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#it's hands down my favorite title like maybe it's the emotional attachment but by GOD it is my favorite and I think it always will be
jaeyooniverse · 1 year
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FIRST COLLECTION — 7 January 2020
"The album features a variety of tracks that highlights the musical attainments that SF9 has achieved and which will present a bright vision of the future. In particular, the members participated in all 10 songs, proving a wide range of musical growth. In addition to the sensuous performance that has become the trademark of SF9, they will open the prelude to the SF9 Golden Age with a luxurious and slick visual concept named ‘GOLDEN RATED’ that only SF9 can be awarded." Happy anniversary to SF9's first full album, which graced us with the much-deserved first win!
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jaeminscoffee · 3 years
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After wedding shenanigans | J. JH
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Pairing- Jung Jaehyun x reader
Genre- Fluff, Smut.
Word count- 2.52k
Warning(s)- typical lyra smut, proper pwp, sensual intercourse, a little roughed, fingering (prep), softdom!Jaehyun..?, slightest bit of breeding kink (yes, jaehyun unloads inside. But this is a fiction, so play it safe), praise kink.
Synopsis- Sure the wedding could be considered the best time of your lives for the both of you, but the after wedding activity was what Jaehyun was more excited about at the end of the day.
Type- requested!
@kpopscape
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"Oh finally alone."
The pieces of night had fallen into place, complete as though you'd just finished a two hundred piece puzzle. 
The wedding night went on successfully, vows were taken, rings were exchanged, lips touched and hearts connected. And of course, the bouquet-throwing ceremony towards the end to determine the next wedding. 
Then came the after wedding reception. You changed out of your heavy gown, instead opting for a more subtle and comfortable dress, flowy to the floor, white the same as the wedding gown, just a little more easy breathing. And because you didn't want to stain your wedding dress with champagne stains, it's too precious for that.
Mrs. Jung. 
You found that title very flattering, to have the 'Jung Jaehyun' as your husband is flattering. The night the ends were made, wishes were passed, you thought of it as the best day of your life. 
Not for Jaehyun apparently, who's frantically trying to push the both of you further into the room, kicking close the door behind him not evening bothering to make sure it's locked 
Jung Jaehyun is a man of high sex drive and that comes of as no shocking fact. 
Even during normal days he'd find it hard to keep his hands off of you, well the same goes for you too but he's just topped you in that factor. His college roommates called you two lovesick rabbits. Well, mainly because of the rabbit like sex drive, also because of how lovey dovey you two always have been. 
It wasn't until years after your relationship that stood as strong as ever, when you, actually beat him into proposing the idea of spending the rest of your lives with each other in a rather comical way that you two decided to get a house of your own. 
Yes, you were the first one to propose, which only increased Jaehyun's love for you. Others found it weird how the female had been the first to ask the male out, but Jaehyun rather found it hot. Your boldness had turned into one of his biggest turn ons. 
"Slow down, boy" you laugh into the kiss when you almost stumble back, your heels doing little to nothing to keep you stable, which, other than Jaehyun's hands around your waist, you wouldn't be. He groans once he stands up onto his feet after making sure you're safely laying on the bed. 
"How the fuck do i do that when you look like this" he threw his head back, removing the now suffocating bow tie and discarding it somewhere behind him. 
Jaehyun meant it. Watching you go around the party hall accepting wishes and presents with a beautiful godly smile was all too much for him. His heart felt content. He felt full. Finally having you all for himself as he'd always dreamed of and now, he doesn't have to worry about anyone stealing you from him. 
"Like what?" you ask, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him slowly remove his tux coat, leaving him in nothing but a white button up shirt that has its sleeves rolled up and a black formal office pants.
You brace yourself to hear a very cheesy, cringe worthy yet heart fluttering answer from his end when he passes you a knowing smile, leaning down and forward to hover over you. Arms by the sides of your propped up elbow, face close enough to have a sniff of the champagne you two had downed. 
"Like an angel" he leaned forward, the smile still prominent on his face. Jaehyun places a kiss on your lips for a short second before pulling away, leaning sideways towards the nape of your neck, right below your earlobes,
"My angel" he blows into your ear, the feeling ticklish which was easily hooded by your now heating up self. Yes, it was cringe and extremely cliché, yet coming from him; You felt like a high school kid who'd just been asked out by her crush. You left like you're in cloud nine. 
The playful mood was immediately set aside when Jaehyun's previous frenzy took over him again. Attaching his lips onto the raw skin of your exposed neck, he placed a few love bites here and there. Mindful to scatter it all over your neck, in case anyone even dared staring at you for more than a few seconds, they'd know you're taken. Taken by him. 
"You're so cheesy" you rasped out the best you could, breath growing short and frantic as he worked his way south, wet lips moving towards your slightly showing cleavage that tempted him throughout the day. He nipped right between your chest at your words, a mischievous yet desperate smile adorning his features, causing your breath to hitch. 
"Just for you" he replied with the same emotions your voice portrayed. 
It could've been your activities or the hotel room must've grown in humidity as you felt the need to rip your gown up and away from your body. So you tapped at the back of his neck which you'd held custody since he started his ministrations. "Get these off me" you plead once his attention was focused on you. 
"It stays on, darling." you whine at his reply causing him to let out a throaty groan at the feeling of something twitch down there. You scoot backwards to create enough space for you to remove your own gown, "You look so fucking sexy in it."
"Can you leave it on for me, love?" He questioned, now standing up to remove the shirt. Not bothering to go button by button, instead, ripping it open instead. Discarding it the same way he did with his coat and tie, his pants following suit.
His voice mixed with the way he's glowing right now, the lights of the room highlighting all of his godly features and the slight plea in his command you oblige, opting to lay back down comfortably on the bed with the gown ridden up just a little to expose your lace inner and look at him with a sultry look, luring him closer to you. 
Wasting no more time, Jaehyun decided it was enough of a wait for both of you as he quickly climbed onto the bed, "Only because i love you" you let out when he came in close, taking up his previous position on top of you.
"I love you too." with that, he engulfed your lips with his, not bothering to slow down as tease has started to become too much for him and his little (not that little) friend down there, and by the way you were constantly rubbing your thighs together, it probably had gotten painful for you to take it slow too. 
You whimper into the kiss when you feel his hand travel all over your body, reaching under the dress to rip the now soaked lace lingerie you'd worn to give him a show (which was a futile attempt as he'd not bothered to look at it for even a second before ripping it off impatiently like an animal in heat) as it joins the pile of his clothes on the floor. 
It was when he cupped your heat with his jewel adorned hand that you began trembling with pleasure. His warm hands in contrast to the cold metal all too pleasurable as you'd finally got some sort of relief at your throbbing core. "J-Jae.."
Jaehyun hushes your whimpers, contemplating whether to actually take time to prepare you after feeling how much you're dripping already. "Such an angel, you're dripping love, doll. Should I even prepare you?" He asked rhetorically. 
"Fingers.. Jae i need you" you moan wanting to feel his beautiful slender digits piston in and out of you. "Hm? You want my fingers?" he asks to which you confirm enthusiastically, "Alright, anything for my wife" 
You were half embarrassed by the fact that the moment he let two fingers slide in smoothly, you'd already felt yourself close to your edge but the other half far too driven by pleasure when he'd started moving his fingers to care enough. 
"Does my doll like that?" Jaehyun inquires, setting a fast, steady pace to move his fingers in and out of you, the rings brushing on your plush walls making your whole being tremble, along with the tips of his finger brushing against your sweet spot turning you into a complete moaning mess. 
"Answer me, love" Settling on his knees to steady himself, Jaehyun brought his other hand up to your chin to make you look at him with a vice grip on your chin. His gaze made you shudder and shrink when he'd felt you clench around his digits. "Y-yes.. I love..-it" he hums with satisfaction. 
Too far into your own zone, your moans mixed with Jaehyun's actions and his sweet nothings, with the squelching sounds echoing throughout the wall, you felt the knot at the bottom of your stomach tighten painfully. All too familiar with you constantly clenching around his fingers, he picks up speed to which your back arches off the bed, "Ja-Jaehyun I'm.. Close. So. -fucking close-!" 
You moan out loud at the addition of his thumb on your clit, which pulled the last string seconds after, coaxing your orgasm out of you, "So well. Look at you, darling. You look ethereal when you come" he stills his wrist, letting you grind your hips onto his fingers to prolong your orgasm, as he watches you moan with your nose scrunched up, your eyebrows knitted and your mouth slightly open ajar. 
You only stop your actions when you felt it was too much for you, and because you heard a moan coming from your husband's end. You look straight at him, only to see him staring back at you with the same intensity while palming himself, which had another wave of pleasure wash over your being as he'd looked so hot at the moment. 
It wasn't once or twice or three times, instead everyday when you'd remind Jaehyun that you thought he was surreal. And that god shows favoritism as he has the looks of that of greek sculptures or maybe even, dare you say, better than the sculptures themselves. 
So when you see his dark eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hooded with lust and desperation, his once perfectly gelled hair now disheveled with a few strands falling stray over his eyes. His lips a shade of deep crimson from the previous frantic make out and his constant lip biting, you let yourself out a silent moan which prompted Jaehyun to hover over you for the nth time that night.
"Jaehyun.." you whimper with an airy voice.
"Fuck me, please" you take his face between both your palms to urge him forward the exact moment he let out a loud groan at your lewd words. You shift below him in a way to allow the head of his shaft to prod at your entrance the moment you capture his lips into a much slower kiss. 
The feeling of your wetness and heat on his painfully inflated member when he slowly eased himself inside up to the brim had him bite down rather harshly on your bottom lips, making drawing the slightest of blood out to which you moan. 
"You're so fucking perfect, doll. You take me in so perfectly.." you both let out a sigh of content at the feeling of being full as you urge Jaehyun to move and not waste more time in taking the next step to lock you in as his for once and for all.
Jaehyun moves his hips backwards  collectively pulling out more than half of his shaft outside, letting just the tip of the head linger at your core, removing his lips from yours, instead opting to find home back at the nape of your neck, which now glowed of pretty red and purple love bites before slamming back inside you with all he'd got, making you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. 
"Oh god, Jae that..-feels so good. So.. So.-good" you whine while he moved faster and faster, one hand clenching your dress and holding it up above your breast while the other dropped down to balance himself on his elbows to avoid crushing you, "Yeah..?" he inquired, which came out as a shaky growl from how fast he was moving. 
"Yeah.. So,..-good" you bite back a whine to hear his moans loud and clear, which caused your body to release another round of arousal at his deep groans and growls.
The wetness dripping onto the sheets with each of his thrusts, causing wet noises to resonate throughout the dim lit room, his moans and your moans mixed causing waves of mixed emotions churn inside you. "You feel so good around me too, love. I'm going to come, urgh-" Jaehyun struggles to keep a steady pace at your constant clenching. 
You squirm underneath him, feeling yourself grow hotter and closer to the edge with each of his sloppy thrusts, whining out loudly when he starts twitching inside of you. "I'm going to come inside,  darling, fill you up to the brim, yeah?" he inquires, not really expecting an answer when he feels you clench harder around his already twitching member which causes him to grit his teeth to hold himself back from coming for a little longer. 
"You like the idea, hm?" 
"You like the idea of me fucking my come inside of you? You like the idea of walking around with my child inside you? Hm?" he asks with pauses as you make it harder for him to move with how much of a tight hold you had on his dick. "Jae..-" you whine out loud at his lewd words, the idea intriguing you enough to throw you off the edge, while blushing really hard
"Jesus fucking christ, Y/n.." He let himself unload right after you, still keeping a slow pace to make sure not a drop of his essence would drip out of you, which was hard considering that your arousal mixed with your come and his had become too much for your body to withhold, causing you to writhe in overstimulation under him as he immediately collapses over you, the feeling of your walls clenching weakly around his now soft member causing him to twitch in the same emotion as you. 
Taking a minute or so to calm down your palms flat on his sweaty back, the other playing with his hair while his hand worked on your side to cool down the burning skin, you speak up, "I do like it.." you let out softly.
You hear a slow and silent questioning hum from his end beside your head, as you speak up louder, "I do like the idea of walking around with your child inside of me" you claim shyly as you feel his hands halt at your sides, his head moving side-wards to place a peck on your cheek with a quirky smirk on his lips, the hands now gripping your side with a slightly tight grip, 
"Round two, then?" 
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Olivia Rodrigo prompts!
I really have been into Olivia Rodrigo lately and so I wanted to create some RP starters based off her songs. I’ll organize it via the titles of the songs like usual. There are 69 total here (hah, the number). 
:: Good 4 You
“I guess you moved on really easily.”
“You found a new girl, and it only took a couple weeks.”
“Remember when you said you wanted to give me the world?”
“Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.”
“Good for you, you look happy and healthy. Not me, if you ever cared to ask.”
“You’re doing great without me? God, I wish I could do that.”
“I’ve spent the night crying on my floor in my bathroom.”
“You’re so unaffected, I don’t get it!”
“I guess you’re getting everything you want.”
“It’s like we never even happened. Baby, what the fuck is that?”
“It’s like you never even met me.”
“Well, screw that and screw you!”
“Maybe I’m too emotional, but maybe you never cared at all.”
“Apathy is like a wounded soul.”
:: Deja Vu
“I bet she’s bragging to all her friends saying that you’re so unique.”
“When are you gonna tell her that we did that too?” 
“She thinks it’s special, but it’s already used.”
“That was our place. I found it first. I told the jokes that you tell to her.”
“Let’s be honest, we do kind of sound the same.”
“I hate to think that I was just your type.”
“I bet that she knows Billy Joel because you played her Uptown Girl.” 
“I bet you even tell her how you love her in between the chorus and the verse.”
“I played you the song she’s singing now.” 
“Don’t act like we didn’t do that shit too.”
:: Drivers License
“You’re probably with that blonde girl who always made me doubt.”
“She’s so much older than me, she’s everything I’m insecure about.”
“I know we weren’t perfect, but I’ve never felt this way for no one.”
“I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone.”
“All my friends are tired of hearing how much I miss you.”
“I kind of feel sorry for them, they’ll never know you how I knew you.”
“I can’t go to the places that we used to because I still fucking love you, babe.” 
:: Traitor
“I played dumb but I always knew that you talked to her, maybe did even worse. I kept quiet so I could keep you.”
“Ain’t it funny how you ran to her the second that we called it quits?”
“Ain’t it funny how you said that you were friends, now it sure as hell don’t look like it.”
“You betrayed me and I know that you’ll never feel sorry.”
“You talked to her while we were together.”
“I loved you at your worse, but that didn’t matter.”
“I guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor.”
“There’s no damn way that you could fall in love with someone that quickly.” 
“Remember when I brought her up, and you told me I was paranoid?” 
“God I wish that you thought this through, before I went and fell in love with you.”
“When she’s sleeping in the bed we made, don’t you dare forget about how you betrayed me.”
:: Happier
“We broke up a month ago, your friends are mine. You know I know that you moved on.”
“I thought my heart was attached from all the sunlight of our past.”
“She’s so sweet, she’s so pretty. Does she mean you forgot about me?”
“I hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me.”
“I’m selfish, I know. I can’t let you go.”
“Find someone great but don’t find no one better.”
“Do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl that you’ve ever seen?”
“Eternal love bullshit that you know you’ll never mean. Remember when I believed when you said it first to me?”
“Now I’m picking her apart, like cutting her down will make you miss my wretched heart.”
“She’s beautiful. She looks kind. She probably gives you butterflies.”
“Think of me fondly when your hands are on her.”
:: Enough for You
“I wore makeup when we dated because I thought you’d like me more.”
“I tried so hard to be everything that you like, just for you to say that you’re not the compliment type.”
“I knew how you took your coffee and your favorite songs by heart.”
“I knew from the start that this is exactly how you’d leave.”
“You found someone more exciting and the next second, you were gone.”
“You always say that I’m never satisfied, but I don’t think that’s true cause all I wanted was to be enough for you.”
“Maybe I’m just not as interesting as the girls you had before.”
“God, you couldn’t have cared less about someone who loved you more.”
“Don’t you think I loved you too much to be used and discarded?”
“Don’t you think I loved you too much to think I deserve nothing?”
“I don’t think nothing could ever be enough for you.”
:: Favorite Crime
“I loved you so bad that I let you treat me like that.”
“Oh, the things I did, just so I could call you mine.. and the things you did.. well.. I hope I was your favorite crime.”
“I defended you to all of my friends.”
“It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do cause I was going down but I was doing it with you.”
“I say that I hate you with a smile on my face, look at what we’ve become.”
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seriouslyhooked · 4 years
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Feels Like This (Part 5)
Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.
A/N: Hey everyone! So let me start by saying how happy I am that you’re all still with me in this story and enjoying the fluff and cuteness. I had such fun with the meet cute, and as you no doubt have gathered this is a story all about instant connection. Emma and Killian are dancing around the inevitable, and this chapter finds that dance still happening a few weeks later. However, we’re greeted with some big steps in the right direction this week, and I *hope* you’ll all enjoy exactly where it heads. So, without further delay, here is the next chapter of ‘Feels Like This.’
“Okay wait for it, wait for it…”
The cautionary words came from a young girl named Eloise, a fiery haired ten-year-old here at the center who was determined to finish her self-assigned mission of the morning. For over an hour Eloise and her band of merry workers had created flower crowns, bestowing them on every girl (and most of the boys) who were out here playing in the back garden. This included almost all of the staff, and finally, after working hard to wrangle her from where she was playing soccer with some of the older teens, Eloise had Emma in her grasp. This meant Emma was being fitted with a crown of her own, and not just any crown, a fairy princess crown that Eloise and the others were imagining specifically for her.
The crowns, to be honest, were beautifully made. Fastened from a mix of summer blooms, ranging in color and size and shape, they all held tremendous detail and design. Right now was the perfect time to make them too, since there was an endless supply of flowers all over the grounds of the institute. The garden was in full bloom, but was mostly off limits for tampering with. Luckily there were thousands of wildflowers in the meadows and all of them were free game for the kids to enjoy. Currently, most of the little girls were on a hunt for the best flowers to impress the older kids, and Emma was amazed at how diligent they all were in participating in this task. Emma assumed they’d all have grown tired with this little game of theirs, but they weren’t. If anything, they were gaining steam and growing bolder and more creative.
Emma looked over to Elsa and Anna who were sitting nearby, quietly allowing the other kids to place random flowers in their hair as well. The three of them shared a look of understanding – this was a super cute activity, but it really shouldn’t be this intense. Flower crowns were meant to feel rushed and free, but Eloise and her ‘assistants’ acted like world renowned stylists prepping for fashion week. Still it was sweet to see them all bonding over a shared goal, and on this easy going, picturesque summer day, none of them wanted to deny the kids anything. The mood all through the institute was positive and the stressors were low. It felt like a real gift, and Emma was happy for herself and for the kids that they could all be a part of it.
“What are we waiting for?” another girl asked, growing frustrated with Eloise’s fastidiousness. “It’s perfect. She looks like the queen of the pixies, just like we wanted.”
“I know that,” Eloise replied, annunciating in a way that was dripping in the authority only a child at play could muster. “It just needs one more flower right here in the center, but I don’t know what kind. It has to be just right.”
“Maybe a bluebell?”
“Too small.”
“How about a violet?”
“Not rare enough.”
“Maybe one of the roses?”
“Uh, uh, uh,” Anna cautioned, nodding towards the larger group across the ways. “If Marie sees any of you going for her roses, there’s no telling what kind of trouble we’ll get into.”
“Right, no roses,” Eloise agreed before groaning and throwing her hands up in frustration. “I just don’t know which to pick.”
“This one,” Cecelia offered, bravely approaching the older girls with a precious blossom hidden in her hand. When she revealed the flower, it was bold and beautiful, and she must have looked long and hard for such a gem out in the meadow. It was similar to a rose, but looked more wild, and the gradation of the petals from a deeper pink to a pretty pastel felt distinctly European. Emma had never seen a flower like that back home. But then again, she’d never in her life had the chance to make flower crowns in the first place.
“Oh my God it’s perfect!” Eloise said happily. She moved so quickly as to snatch it from Cecelia, but the little girl was quick, pulling back and guarding the flower close.
“It’s pink, like for a princess,” Cecelia declared, eying Eloise with some traces of doubt.
“It’s really beautiful,” Eloise agreed. “Can we use it for the crown?”
“For Emma’s crown,” Cecelia emphasized and Eloise nodded.
“Yes, Emma’s. Here you can help me put it on.” Together the two of them worked to attach the captivating flower, fastening it to Emma’s crown with careful attention. Then Eloise even went so far as to fix Emma’s wayward waves, which the girls begged her to set free from her hair tie when she sat down here.
“Thank you, Princess Cecelia,” Emma offered, reaching for the little crown on Cecelia’s head. It was made of yellow and white flowers, for that was all the little girl wanted, and it made Emma so glad to see Cecelia respond to the endearment with pride and joy.
“I like being a princess,” she chirped happily, and Emma’s heart lurched in her chest.
“Well you always are, honey. In here,” Emma said, placing her hand over her own heart. Cecelia followed the action and nodded.
“Right, in my heart.” Her little accent was so cute, and coupled with the stumbling she still made over certain words and sounds, Cecelia was a heartbreaker for sure.
The cuteness of her display made Emma’s eyes mist over. She rarely had this happen in the past, despite all her work with kids, but with Cecelia she was admittedly attached. This little girl was working so hard to come out of her shell, and over the past three weeks she’d bonded to Emma more and more. She was precious, but she needed the space and the confidence to see and to feel that. Every day she made progress in socializing, and the fear she once carried was beginning to slip away. Someday, Emma knew, Cecelia would be past that fear, and she’d be what she was supposed to be – a child – once more. Emma wanted to be the one to help her get there, to help her make friends and make peace with herself too. She felt tied up with this child especially, though she cared for every kid here at the institute. But Cecelia was special, a favorite for sure, and any time Emma saw her making progress she found herself getting weepy, as she only ever had with her own son.
“Hey, Emma?” Elsa asked, calling her attention. Immediately Emma knew that her knew friend was reading her emotions. Elsa was almost witchlike in that way. She picked up on energy and emotion faster than anyone Emma had ever met. It made her a wonderful counselor, and so far a good and honest friend. “I think Killian and Max might have forgotten about the picnic. They’re not here yet and were over at the barn. Would you mind grabbing them?”
Emma was so grateful for the out and she said she would, promising all the girls she’d be back soon, but appreciating the chance to get herself together. No matter where the tears came from, be they happiness or pride, these kids didn’t need to see them from adults, not when their lives were already fragile enough. She could give them all the wrong idea and ruin what was otherwise shaping up to be a lovely afternoon. Getting some distance from them all for a moment would help her collect herself, and if she was honest, it definitely didn’t hurt that the errand she was being sent on involved finding Killian, a man who also made her feel so much but in a completely different way.
As Emma made her way to the barn, she wiped away the tears that had started to form in her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it harshly as her hand came over her throat. She wanted to knock away that warbly voice that always came when she was emotional before it had a chance to appear. If she’d learned anything over the last three weeks, it was that Killian was observant, and if she gave any indication she was feeling something the least bit negative, he would know. She didn’t hate the idea of him comforting her or sharing the cute new memory of Cecelia with him, but with Max there too, it just wouldn’t be the right time.
The further away from the garden she trekked, the quieter things became. The constant squeals of excitement and enthusiastic chatter from the kids ebbed away and in its place were the sounds of bees buzzing and birds singing their songs. The leaves moved gently on the wind, and the trickle of the brook came from the tree line. It was like a whole different world out here, so removed from the chaos of the kids, but as she rounded the back corner of the greenery building, Emma stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. If she had any less control, her jaw would have dropped straight down.
Good Lord in Heaven, that right there, was a sight for sore eyes.
Since getting here bright and early, Killian and Max had both been working hard out on the barn, but Emma didn’t realize that their work would be so physical. It was warm out in the summer sun, and they were lugging big beams from one end of the yard to the other. She managed to catch them through one full motion of it, and her eyes were locked on Killian, from the way his muscles bulged at the exertion, to the way he led the situation with such ease. When they tossed the beam down twenty feet across the field, Emma got a full look at his biceps, and then he pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe away his face and… God Damn, was that his body? Seriously?! How was that even real?
“Emma!” Max greeted her amiably when he realized she was here. Then his brow furrowed in concern. “You all right?”
Uh oh. Busted. Emma was caught and she knew she had to be bright red at this point as she stumbled over her words. “Uh yeah, I’m fine. Great actually. But um. You know. The uh. Picnic?”
“It’s started already?” Max asked, but Emma’s eyes stayed on Killian who was looking at her with a grin too wicked handsome to turn away from. He knew she’d been looking at him and now she couldn’t tear her gaze away. “Well I’m heading over there. Cook’s making pecan biscuits today, and they never last long.”
Without waiting for them, Max booked it out of there, leaving Emma and Killian alone. Her mind was on overdrive, racing a million miles a minute, and as he walked towards her, she felt lost and found all at once. It was disorienting and exhilarating, and she was caught, like a moth drawn to a flame.
“So, you missed me, Swan?” he asked, grabbing his canteen from the ground and taking a long drink after what must have been hours of hard work.
“I - what?” she asked, distracted by the way his Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. Damn, did it somehow get hotter out here? It took everything in her not to fan herself.
“You risked leaving the picnic and forsaking Cook’s sweet treats to see that we joined you. Call it wishful thinking, but it makes me hope that perhaps you missed me.”
“Elsa sent me,” Emma clarified, clearing her throat as she shifted her stance, shaking away the distractedness he’d inspired in her. “The food’s not even out yet.”
“That may be true, but it’s not a denial. Maybe you did miss me. God knows I missed you.” The words were bold – bolder than any he’d said to her so far and his eyes raked over her before coming back up to the flowers in her hair.  
“The kids were making these in the meadow. I know it’s not my usual style, but… what do you think?” she asked, and she felt the charge of Killian’s blue eyes as they took her in.
There was so much swirling around in his expression. The hunger was still there, flaring and real, and so was the affection that had grown the past three weeks of their getting to know each other. But there was something more too, as if her simply teasing query prompted big feelings for him. Whatever it was made her breath catch. Maybe she came across as silly like this, playing with the kids and letting them put flowers in her hair. She looked away, back across the meadow to where the kids were by the center way out yonder. She tried to hide her insecurity and then felt his presence as he closed the space between them. One hand came to her hip while the other reached up to tilt her face back his way. She felt the brush of his fingers as he sought to bring her attention back to him. She followed his lead, and when she looked at him there was so much written on his face. If she didn’t know better, she would say that was love in his eyes. But that was crazy. They barely knew each other.
You know him. He’s the one you’ve been waiting for, her gut said and her heart clenched at that.
It was such a ridiculous notion, but it felt right to her. They may not know every detail of each other’s lives, but she’d seen the shape of who he was over these past few weeks. He was good and kind, strong and determined, and smart too. He tried not to over-insert himself in things, but when he spoke up his ideas were always great and his instincts with kids were spot on. He impressed her each and every day, but more than that he made her feel desirable. It was practically Victorian, the way they were stealing glances and quiet moments, with all of it coming to no real head. At least a dozen times over the last few week’s there’d be this window of possibility, a glimpse of ‘what-if’ where the rest of the world faded away. Every time she thought something might happen, but it never did. Instead it was like they were waiting, luxuriating in the anticipation of it all, and pushing off the pay off just a little bit more. It was the opposite of what she was used to in her romantic life (not that there had been much of one to speak of), but Emma loved it, and her gut told her that Killian was different for a reason, and that he was right for her. She felt like he’d always been a part of her life, and she wasn’t nearly as scared about that as she should have been.
“I think you’ve never looked more beautiful, Emma, and believe me, with you being who you are, that is saying something.”
Her heart hammered in her chest as her eyes flicked down to his lips. It was hardly the first time she’d wondered what he’d taste like. This energy that surrounded them told her that one touch of his lips would start an inferno, and she was terrified of unleashing that, but also desperate not to let it pass her by. She wanted him – no, she craved him - and every day it was getting worse. The more she saw him here with these kids and with her collogues, the more layers she peeled away of this thoughtful, handsome, curious man, the more she wanted to see and to share of herself. No one had ever prompted a reaction like this from her. It was reckless, and driven by emotion, but her intuition wasn’t telling her to run for the hills or protect herself. It was daring her to jump, and to see if what she thought might be here could really exist.
Fuck it, just go for it, Emma. You know you want to. And she did, God did she want to. So she moved forward, closing the distance while he did the same and –
“Miss Emma!” One of the kids hollered from the other side of the meadow, but Emma and Killian jumped apart at the interruption, realizing this definitely wasn’t the time or place to be doing this, heart wrenching as that was. “You promised us a rematch!”
“Be right there!” she yelled back, relieved when the boy grinned and sprinted back towards the group. She let out a sigh, and though part of it was based on gratefulness that they hadn’t really been caught, there was also disappointment that the moment had to end this way. “Sorry about that.”
“Not nearly as sorry as I am, love,” Killian said, and Emma’s brow furrowed. She was confused at his meaning until he explained. “I shouldn’t have hesitated. I should have kissed you when I had the chance. Won’t make that mistake again.”
“Oh,” she said, surprised but excited at the prospect. She liked that he made his intentions far clearer than men usually did. “Good.”
“Good?” he asked, his voice holding a bit of amusement, but there was a genuine curiosity there too, as if it wasn’t totally obvious that she was interested.
“Yeah, good,” she quipped, and with a final smirk over her shoulder she turned back. She headed through the meadow to the picnic once more, all the while feeling Killian’s eyes on her, hinting at the promise he’d just made that she was desperate for him to make good on.
…………….
Gods above he’d wanted that kiss. More than he’d ever wanted anything in his life.
Despite the general merriment of the picnic today, Killian couldn’t help wishing that he could go about an hour back in the past and live every beat of that interlude all over again. If he’d had any sense, he’d have kissed Emma Swan the moment they were alone together, even though that moment had been fleeting.
Perhaps some might think that he should ask her first. Etiquette and politeness would suggest that a prince should never kiss a lady on a whim, but fuck politeness. He and Emma had been caught in this net of mutual interest for three weeks, and every day his want to have her grew. He knew from all the moments that they’d spoken, and even more from the moments where they’d been with each other, working side by side to make the lives of the children here better, that Emma was interested in him too. He couldn’t fathom how that could be, how a woman as remarkable as her could be attracted to him in return, but he couldn’t deny it was the case. Especially during moments like earlier, where he caught her watching him. In those windows of time, she had none of her usual walls erected, and he could read her plain as day. She wanted him, more than a passing fancy, and he had every intention of giving himself to her for whatever role she saw fit.
She may not still want you when she learns the truth.
The thought charged into the forefront of his mind like a rhino on a rampage, and the impact of it pained him more than he cared to admit. The reason for the fear behind that thinking was obvious – three weeks in and Emma still hadn’t realized he was a prince. He had no clue how it had gone this long, but every day was another day where she didn’t realize who he was. A part of him was addicted to that feeling. Those looks she was sending him, the trust she was building with him, that was forged in an interest in him, Killian. Not Prince Killian, not the second in line to the throne, not even the veteran of war who had served with honor and distinction. No, when Emma was with him, she was with him, and she saw him and accepted him and wanted him too.
But while there was a real contentment in being accepted for who he was, there was also a tremendous amount of guilt. Emma deserved to know all the facts, especially since he wanted a future with her. He couldn’t run away from this forever, and it needed to come from him. He worried every day that someone else would let it slip, and so far he’d been lucky, but luck could only last so long. He’d even tried to tell her half a dozen times, but every time he went to say it, he pictured a terrifying moment, a moment where she’d hear this, see the truth, and reject him. What if who he was to the rest of the world was too much to Emma? What if it made her pull away? What if this perfect private passion that they shared was tainted? It killed him to imagine such a scenario, and so he’d chosen a coward’s way out, clinging to all of the good right now, and hoping that the intensifying attraction between them would grow enough to keep her with him, even when his secrets were all revealed.
“Whatever is on your mind seems serious.”
The words came from Marco, who had appeared at Killian’s side here at the picnic. The man was constantly moving, running things here with a precision and a pure good naturedness that astounded Killian all the time. And in the midst of all of his actual work and responsibility, the man made time to be a mind reader. This was not the first time Marco had confronted him with a knowing look and a claim too correct to counter, and Killian doubted it would be the last.
“Aye, it is.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m certain it’ll all work out. The things that trouble us always do. One way or another, everything comes out in the way that it should.”
Killian didn’t reply, but he hoped that the older man’s words would ring true. He could handle anything, go through any hardship, as long as it meant getting to the other side and having Emma still with him. What a crazy thought that was, to so firmly believe in something that had yet to even really begin, but he couldn’t help the way he felt, and he had no real interest in trying to do so.
“But in the meantime, I was hoping you could help me with something.”
“Anything.” Killian offered, knowing that whatever was about to be asked for had to do with benefiting these kids. In three weeks time he’d grown attached to them all, and he’d do whatever he could whenever he could to help them.
“The children are headed to the wildlife preserve next week, and we are working to arrange everything. They’ve got it all laid out, but the preserve needs someone to go make sure things are set up for how we’ll need them next week. We’re bringing some of our own supplies, and there won’t be room in the vans when we’re bringing the children.”
“I can go. But I’ll need to bring -,”
“Your detail, yes. The dowager queen made it very clear that any off-site work would require their attendance. However, she assured me that she’s spoken to the King about some more lax protocols.”
“When did she…?” Killian trailed off, not bothering to ask when his grandmother might have mentioned that. She was a meddler by trade, and it was often better not to ask those kinds of questions. “Never mind.”
“I spoke with Jefferson and he agreed that it’s possible for you and Emma to drive in the van with the detail in a sperate means of transport.”
“Right. Right. Wait – Emma?” Killian asked, he hadn’t realized Emma was coming. This all suddenly took a big step in the direction of enjoyable now that he knew she was coming.
“Yes, Emma. She’s been working with Anna and Elsa on plans for the trip. She’ll know where everything needs to go, and both Elsa and Anna are needed here this afternoon. Emma’s the best one for the job.”
“Of course she is,” Killian said, not with any sarcasm, but full honesty. In his estimation Emma was the best one for every job, but he hadn’t meant to give that away in front of Marco, no matter how observant the institute’s leader may be.
“Well I appreciate the help. It’s likely best for you to head out now. The head of the learning and enrichment center at the preserve leaves early on Fridays, and she’s got the key to the portion of the preserve we’ll be visiting.”
Killian heeded the instruction and watched as Marco went to tell Emma the same thing. He noticed the surprise on her face at the new errand they were going on, but then she looked at him from across the picnic and smiled. God she was beautiful. And he was the lucky bastard who got to spend all afternoon with her. The thought excited him to no end, and as they took their leave from the picnic and headed out back to the van, his whole being came alive in a way that seemed more befitting a teenager in love than a man about to set off for a wildlife preserve.
As they drove the thirty minutes or so to the park, Killian found himself slipping into a sense of normal so much sooner than he would have anticipated. Soon he forgot about the presence of his detail and how out of the ordinary this was for him. He didn’t get to drive much, definitely not since leaving the service, and he’d certainly never driven with a woman who interested him so much. Here they were, sharing the space and just discussing the upcoming week’s activities for the children and Killian hung on her every word. Emma explained in intricate detail all the parts of the process that they’d planned out. This was more than just an outing to give the kids occupation, it was going to have an outdoor classroom component and also some discrete, blended group therapy. That was where Emma and Elsa came in most. Emma was still in school studying how best to provide for children in tumult like this, but Killian discovered much of the itinerary for next week came from plans she alone had designed.
“If you don’t mind me asking, love, why is the preserve the best place for work like this?”
Killian had zero doubt that it was the best place, and he knew that Emma and the team would have thought about this long and hard, but he wanted to hear her explain it to him. Her passion and enthusiasm did something to him that he’d come to crave, and every time she shared her thinking he felt he understood more, not just about her but about this kind of work. For the sake of the children at the institute, he wanted to learn as much as he could, and to find a way to always be a resource to these people and not a detriment or a let down.
“Well the themes of the group work line up really easily with their lessons for the day. Also the animal component. Studies done at the University of California demonstrate that children and young adults take comfort in animals and also practice this kind of self-projection when in their presence. Animals are proven empathy boosters. They’re tied up in a lot of emotions for kids, and for some of the charges here they are also a real wonder. They’ve never had much exposure to the world outside of Montenarro, or even the world outside the institute. We’re hoping the trip will be a sphere of possibility for them all, and therapeutically speaking, you can accomplish so much more with positive ‘what-ifs’ than anything else.”
Killian did his best to keep his eyes on the road as Emma explained all of this, but he kept glancing back over to Emma, tracking the motion of her full lips and the way her hair came loose from its ties as the breeze came through the open windows. Her voice moved over him like warm honey, and he was calmed and intrigued. He heard everything she said, reasoned that it was all brilliant, as per usual, but he found he didn’t have much to offer back. This was so outside of his wheelhouse. Everything they did here was about healing and growing. His past had been filled with fighting and defending. Those skill sets took very different parts of a person to finesse, and while he believed the royal navy could learn more than a few things from Emma, the way things currently stood, her work and his past occupation seemed miles and miles apart.
“I’m sorry for rambling on and on like that. I’m still not used to being here. Everyone really cares in a way that’s so rare, and I tend to get a bit over excited.”
Without thinking, Killian took one of his hands off the steering wheel and grabbed Emma’s hand. She stayed frozen for a moment but then her hand molded to his, grasping his back in a way that filled him with peace and elation.
“Never be sorry for what your heart decides, love. It’s clear as day you love this work. You have a real purpose, and you’re making real change. That’s something to be cherished, no matter what.”
Emma whispered out a thank you, and her thumb ran against his hand absentmindedly. They kept their hands together, clasped liked that as they continued the drive, and unfortunately it was too short for Killian’s liking. Before they knew it, they were there, and the time for them to talk had come and gone. But Killian took joy in the fact that they had the whole drive home to share together too. He smiled at that as he parked the car past the front gates and just outside the preserve’s outdoor classroom pavilion. Soon though that happiness and easy going feeling fled as a thought dawned on him for the first time this outing – he was no longer on turf where people knew to treat him normally. What if he was recognized? What if someone gave the truth away? Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
“Hey that’s the same insignia as the institute. I didn’t realize this was a JR Foundation grant too,” Emma said, and the unease coursing through him grew inordinately stronger.
“Um, err, yeah – I mean yes,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear and trying to fend off the embarrassment. “The preserve was donated by my family a long time ago though. Land prices were a different story then.”
Damn, why did he have to go and say something like that? Now he just sounded elitist, and that wasn’t him at all. Thankfully Emma laughed at him, taking his awkward bumbling as an intended jest instead of the show of panic that it really was.
“Right. Wouldn’t want to be too generous. I mean you all are already enriching the lives of all of those kids. Gotta spread out the random acts of kindness.”
With her lighthearted barb, Emma directed him towards the research center and told him that there was a woman here they’d been connected with. Emma warned him that the woman was a little… off, but in a well-meaning way. Killian just hoped beyond hope that she was old, frail, and barely able to see. Maybe he’d get lucky and she’d have thick glasses and a bit of a spotty memory. He hated to pray for anyone to have such ailments, but in this moment he was tempted.
“Hello? Zelena? Are you here?”
“In the back, dear.”
Oh well that was a good sign, right? Who called people dear at this point? Only his grandmother and at times his mother as far as Killian knew. Maybe he would get lucky after all. But then movement came from the back room and they were greeted by a younger woman with no glasses in sight, and a discerning face that made his stomach drop. Shit, she recognized him. Bloody hell, what was he going to do.
“Marco sent us to drop some stuff off. Killian and I just wanted to make sure that the back lot is still good?” Emma’s use of his first name made the other woman’s brows rise, but she took it in stride, only casting another glance of questioning at him. Killian was attempting a poker face, but he wouldn’t be surprised if this woman could sense his internal turmoil. Either way, she surprised him with her casual reply.
“Yes, that’s perfect. I’ll take you both back there,” Zelena said breezily, grabbing a set of keys and leading them outside. Emma and her spoke about the upcoming outing, and Killian kept waiting for things to take a turn, but they didn’t. This was nothing but a positive exchange. Emma’s comment was proven true, as Zelena did seem to have a tendency to interrupt with wildly irrelevant facts about the natural world and quotes from long dead naturalists, but Killian would listen to her talk about just about anything as long as his secret was spared.
The second we get out of here, I’m telling Emma the truth. I should have told her already. Please God, don’t let me be too late.
Finally, Zelena opened up all of the necessary pens for Emma and Killian to drive the van up here and set up. They all of them unloaded the materials for the outing next week, and covered up things with tarps on the off chance that there was rain. It was much quicker work with three of them acting on this together. But when they were finally finishing up and Emma had bid Zelena goodbye and thanked her once more, Zelena turned to look at him and hit him with a swift punch right to the gut.
“If you don’t mind me saying, you really do look so much like your brother.”
And there he was, left exposed and found out. He did everything he could not to wince openly, and he tried to get his bearings enough to say something else, but Zelena continued.
“But that’s pirates’ blood for you. Dominant stuff. Strong hereditary nature.”
He almost sank to his knees in relief as Zelena turned back around and walked away, all while prattling on about pirates and their effect on Montennaran geneology. She’d mentioned his family, but not their being royals. Maybe he was all right? He looked to Emma to see, and her look of shock scared the shit out of him all over again.
“Wait, so that pirate thing was real?”
“Aye, it was real,” he hedged.
“And everyone just knows that little tid bit about your family?” He nodded. “They must be a pretty big deal to have such a well-known reputation.”
“To me they’re just the people who love me most in the world,” Killian answered honestly.
And that was the truth. He didn’t see his family as royalty, at least not primarily. They were just people, the people he belonged to. Sure they played a role in the public life and persona of this country, and they were not allowed to live the full scope of normal that other people could partake in, but the love that bound them was no less real, and neither was the loyalty and honor that he felt for them. Still, he wasn’t doing any of them a service right now. This was his chance to tell Emma the truth. Just rip off the bandage so to speak, but her response threw him off kilter.
“I understand that. I never had anything like that until Henry, but now… family is so precious. I’m sure that’s just as true, even if you all have a bit of money.
“There’s more than money in our picture, I fear,” Killian said, trying to find the words to express this to Emma delicately. He didn’t want to just come out and say it, so he maneuvered around it all as best he could. “Being in my family comes with a certain level of responsibility. We’re fixtures here, property of public perception as much as we are of ourselves.”
“That sounds terrible,” Emma said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. The action was one meant to comfort him and he wish she could understand how true that was. But she surprised him with even more astute observation. “And it also sounds like the opposite of what you’d want for yourself.”
“You can tell that?” Killian asked and Emma nodded.
“Yes. You like to be useful, and you take pride in doing what’s right. Maybe that’s from your time in the service, but I suspect that’s just who you are at your core. You’re a helper, to the kids you’re a hero, but the second you get the recognition for it you kindly direct praise elsewhere. The spotlight seems like the last place you’d ever want to be.”
“Exactly right,” Killian acknowledged, gearing up to make his confession. “Emma, the thing is-,”
“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” A voice said from behind them, and Killian knew it was Jefferson before so much as turning. Still the presence of another person startled Emma enough to make her jump. Instinctively Killian grabbed her hand as a means to calm her. “But we’ve got a situation at the –,” Jefferson caught himself before saying too much. “Ehrm, something’s come up with your family.”
“Is everything all right?”
“Your brother needs your help with the board sir. I’m afraid it can’t wait.”
The board was a running joke in the family, and it stood for parliament. Liam needed his help with parliament? Killian had no idea what he could possible need, but whatever it was it couldn’t be good. Liam had never interrupted him at work, respecting Killian’s balance of life and duty. For him to make this move meant something, unfortunately it came at just about the least opportune time possible.
“You should go. I can get the van back to the institute. I was paying attention to the route up here. It seemed straightforward -,”
“Jefferson, have John see Emma back,” Killian said, looking to Emma and shaking his head. “I know that you could manage, love, but I also know you’re not used to driving here. Please, let me help, even if it’s nowhere near enough.”
“Sure,” Emma agreed easily, and he saw the worry in her eyes, guiding the way she was handling this with him right now.
“Jefferson could you give us a minute?”
“Sir, we really need -,”
“Just a minute, J.”
“Yes, sir.”
When he was sure they were alone, Killian knew he didn’t have the time to tell Emma the truth, but he had decided he was going to do so as soon as possible. He just needed a prolonged bit of peace and quiet for the two of them, with no interruptions and no unexpected hiccups. As it was, however, he couldn’t risk them being interrupted again, and without so much as a word he closed the space between them, bringing her into his arms, where his intentions could not be misunderstood. Almost instantly Emma melted against him, her hands rest on his chest as she gazed up at him curiously. Her eyes flicked to his mouth and that was all he needed to seal their lips and kiss this wonderful, miraculous woman.
The kiss was world-altering, a cosmic shift in the fabric of his very being, and it packed so much promise that he hardly knew where he ended and Emma began. In this embrace he felt like he was finally coming home after years of searching for his answers, and when they broke apart, both trying to catch their breath, he saw in Emma’s eyes his future. Everything he wanted, everything he never dared to dream of, it could only happen with this woman. She was the key to everything, and he wanted her to see that and to feel that every day of her life.
“This isn’t how I imagined things going today, Emma,” he admitted, his voice gruff from the emotion of their kiss and his frustration at having to leave. “And God knows I’ve thought of this kind of moment more times than I can say, but I find I can’t wait any longer for the perfect situation. So I guess I’ll just ask – Emma Swan, would you go out with me sometime? On a proper date, just the two of us?”
“Yes,” she immediately responded. And the smile she graced him with gave him so much hope that had just seconds ago been scarce.
“Tomorrow?” He asked and her smile faltered. Absentmindedly he brushed his thumb across her cheek, and he watched as she leaned into the motion.
“I can’t tomorrow. Henry and I are spending the day at the beach. Then we’re going to the Institute for the party. Someone mentioned you might be coming too.”
“For the holiday, right,” Killian said, having forgotten about his own agreement to be there. His plans had initially been to lay low, and actively avoid the day. He’d been promised a pass from any royal duties from his brother, and he thought he’d just head out on a long hike, enjoying himself out in the natural world. But when the children asked him to come to their party a few days ago, he couldn’t’ say no. Honestly he was somewhat ashamed he’d failed to remember their request. But when it came to Emma, everything else had a tendency of fading from view. “I will be there. I just…”
“Forgot?” Emma teased and Killian nodded. “Trust me I’m tempted to forget too, but it means so much to Henry. He’s really wanted to meet everyone and he’s been planning our outing all week-,”
“I understand, love,” he said, meaning it whole heartedly. Killian knew how much Emma’s son meant to her. He’d never ever fault her for seeing he was tended to. It was just another part of Emma to love and admire.
“But I could do the next night?” she offered, giving away how invested she was in making a date, and Killian smiled. Damn it felt good to have her in this with him. He’d honestly never felt so happy at anything in his life.
“Brilliant.”
They exchanged numbers and he got Emma’s address, promising that he’d pick her up at 7 in two days’ time. She was certain Elsa could watch Henry, and Killian was determined to make the date one so alluring, Emma would have to see beyond his blasted title. And in the meantime he’d see her still tomorrow, meaning that he didn’t have to wait to taste that bit of sunshine she always aimed his way. Still, despite the time crunch he was under, Killian couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye. It felt too final and too painful for him, so instead he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again, taking comfort in how right this was between them, and how perfectly they seemed to fit together.
“I swear I’ll make this right,” he murmured when they broke apart. He knew there was no more time left. He had to go, but he hated to leave.
“This already is right,” she said, not realizing the full extent of his meaning, but giving him so much hope all the same. He stole one last fleeting kiss before stepping back. He turned and saw Jefferson was back, their moment was broken, but as Killian waved at Emma one last time and headed out to see his brother, he knew that this was not over. No matter what came, he’d make sure he and Emma were together. He would not mess this up. He would be the man she wanted and the man she deserved. He just needed a chance to do so, and he had every intention of taking said chance very very soon.
Post-Note:  Okay so I know that this chapter features a lot of stuff – we’ve got some intrigue, a first kiss, and a lot of teasing moments. I just wanted this fic to have some of that, even though we’re getting close to the halfway point. As you might have guessed, the big reveal is coming sometime in the next few chapters, and there’s a few twists and turns coming in our story, but you can always trust that the heart of this story is true and it will land in a fluffy, love-filled place. Anyway, thanks so much to all of you for reading, and I’ll hopefully see you all next time!
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coepiteamare · 3 years
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2020 in fic
2020 was terrible year but an okay year of fic considering i didn’t really write till october. 
STATS: fics: 1 fic; i wrote drabbles because i can’t write long fics. but i wrote 8 drabbles? female pov: 8 male pov: 1 (i thought i had more but nope, they’re all wips) both pov: 0 (i haven’t written anything long to justify both pov) total word count: (lol, i’ll update this later but i know it’s absolute shite) OVERALL: Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted? both! i started this blog in january, wrote two things, then forgot about it because life kind of took over. because i didn’t write for so long, i didn’t intend on coming back, but i realized that i had a couple wips for the dictionary of lovers that i never uploaded so i came back sometime in october? (i published one and then kind of tucked away the rest because i wasn’t sure what i quite wanted to do with tdol)
i started off this year intending to write and finish tdol (26 drabbles), but that didn’t end up happening, so less. but when i stopped, i also didn’t think i would ever come back to posting, yet here i am! and i’ve posted drabbles and have a bunch in the wip folders, so more! tl;dr: less than i thought but also more than i thought. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January? i don’t write cross fandoms anymore (though that was my start in ff, my peak poetry days), but i never thought i would write 2nd pov/memberxreader because i started off writing memberxmember fics for bangtan, so i suppose that!  Did you take any writing risks this year? most definitely. i never thought i would write 2nd person pov, but here i am. and i didn’t think i’d write memberxreader, but here i am! (a bundle of surprises i am) 2nd person pov is actually a lot harder for me to write, but i’m getting better at it. 
pens and paperwork actually has a lot of dialogue and less purple prose: i think it’s the one piece i wrote that was less emotion based and more plot, which is very out of character for me. it’s also a little (a lot) different than what i normally write, so that was also a risk, but i enjoyed writing that one so much: it’s definitely one of my favourite pieces and i want to flesh out that universe a little more. Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year? write! longer! fics! i want to rewrite “the dictionary of lovers” and put it together into a long fic. i have a multiverse fic that i’ve been planning out, and i want to finish 9,719km and make it at least 10K: i want to practice fleshing out characters and worlds. my goal in general is just to write a long fic (9,719km, i’m looking at you). and also return to writing memberxmember fics too (i have a namgi fic in the works and there are def taekook ideas). get better at writing openings and closing and titling fics. god, i suck at titles. 
also, i would very much like to publish most of my wips. so, future violet, here’s to hoping you do that.  What were last year's goals? this is my first year, but last year, my goal was to just start a writing tumblr and write! and i’ve managed to do that! so yay  🎉  BEST AND WORST: My best story of this year: nine thousand, seven hundred nineteen kilometers. i love it to bits and pieces and i had it in my drafts for a while? because i wanted to publish it as a full fic but who knows when that will be, so i published it anyways. also this part was so much better than the other parts, so no regrets, i suppose. i think it is my favourite piece i’ve written, along with pens and paperwork, because it’s so different from what i’m used to writing? (both are also yoongi fics, funny enough) i definitely think it’s less purple prose (though 9,719km def has elements of that still; can’t get it out of my system) so hs me would not have approved, but i love it to smithereens. i try to not read any of my fics after posting them though because i’m incapable of letting it be: i have to perform autopsies on it, pick at the bad parts, cut open the good ones for flaws, until it’s virtually unrecognizable and ruined, so i can’t bring myself to reread it, but as of now, from what i remember, i think it’s my best story.  My most popular story of this year: love is a losing game (we played anyways): i’m so flattered and in awe that people actually liked this story because it was so hard for me to write. it’s only 1k and it took me a good week before i could publish it because i kept tripping over the language. and i felt (still feel) like pre-dialogue and post-dialogue are two different stories, which was extremely frustrating for me. i think i can write dialogue (this story is a different beast, just because of the nature of the beginning) but it’s really hard for me to combine poetry/prose with dialogue. i feel like it throws it off but the only other way to write it would be in a short bit compilation (i’ll write fics like that again someday) and i didn’t feel like it would work for lialg. (funny story: it was actually a royalty!namjoon fic where he wants to give her the world but it turns out she was a spy and she essentially burns his kingdom to the ground) i’m honestly not too happy about how it turned out but i’m still glad people enjoyed it!  Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: none! i really didn’t expect to have an audience, so people stopping and reading my fics? wild. Most fun story to write: pens and paperwork. that drabble was so much fun to write and i loved the characters. also gave me the least amount of headaches, probably because it kind of wrote itself once i started. i really do want to expand on that universe, just because i want to revisit it and explore 007′s background (maybe write about 005 and 006 as a spin off though whether i want to make it taexreader or taexjimin is to be determined) and yoongi’s journey in the MI6/NIS as well!
Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters: probably pens and paperwork? i’ve always known that yoongi was a dynamic and versatile person but that fic really did it for me. i can totally see him being this sarcastic, dry person, but also someone with a lot of love and care for others, like he does with 007 by bringing her alc when she’s in pain and generally trying to distract her as she’s getting stitches. someone who’s as loud as they are quiet. i definitely want to write more soft yoongi though. 
Hardest story to write: i am your ocean (your little mermaid). hands down. i don’t know if tae is just really hard to write (for me) or if that fic was a monster of it’s own, but i spent two+ weeks working on it. it went through so many storyline revisions and changes and then even after i had a decent idea of the final plot, it took me another week to write fucking 1.4k. absolutely awful. do i like it? i don’t even know. but i don’t like hoarding fics, so it’s out there for the word to pick at, to dissect it’s anatomy, to taxidermy it.  Biggest disappointment: the movietheaterworker!oc x marvelnerd!jk fic that i never published. i don’t know if it’s just bad or it’s just not what i wanted but i haven’t touched it since october (and idk if i want to look at it) so that says something. 
in terms of something i published, probably “heart” from tdol. i re-read it recently and it just felt really bleh to me? i should have more attachment to it considering it’s my first drabble on this account but nope. some parts of it are cute but it’s so clunky. i don’t like it.  Biggest surprise: pens and paperwork or monsters under the bed. pens and paperwork because of how much i loved it/how fast it wrote itself and how much i liked it afterwards, even though it��s written in a much different style than i normally write? monsters under the bed because it was written with no direction and honestly feels like a fever dream (though i did have a backstory to jk’s character and his relationship with oc), yet it still was well liked! i kind of posted it as the start to the “things you said” drabble collection and was like here goes nothing, but people seemed to really enjoy it!! which was very surprising. and my butterfly, noor, called me the bob ross of fanfiction (that still cracks me up) so!  Most unintentionally telling story: hmmm...probably anything from tdol. i’ve been so fortunate to have such beautiful, healthy, intimate platonic relationships, but the one (two if we’re being generous, which we most def are if counting it) romantic relationship i’ve had was quite awful and extremely toxic. (ask me about it if you want to: i like to rant about it from time to time) so tdol is a creation of wishful thinking, of what i think a healthy relationship should look like, through the ups and downs, the highs and lows. because i don’t have experience with healthy romantic relationships, i def put a lot of my friendships and bits and pieces from those into tdol. and it’s not published yet, but there’s an unwritten piece from tdol where oc talks about how she doesn’t believe in love but jk very much is a hopeless romantic, and that’s me writing me into a fic so. 
HIGHLIGHTS + WRAP-UP: Favorite opening lines:
(god, i suck at opening lines)
tdol “perfect” + coming back home to you would always be one of the highlights of my day. whenever the sun shined for a little too long, a storm would hit, but this--coming home to and closing the day with you--was one of the few things in life that was completely and utterly mine to have, out of the reaches of whatever was out there that made sure the road was never too smooth. [note: this isn’t THE opening line but we’ll ignore that]
9,719km + paris is much quieter than the places you’re used to, but it’s not a bad thing.
Favorite closing lines: (i struggle so much with these) i’ll be your ocean (your little mermaid) + the enfilade of rain continues and pelts against the windowpane, against your balcony floor. 
monsters under the bed + but when he opens his eyes again, to the blaring 1:01AM of his clock, you’re no longer by his side. 
9,719km + p.s. did you miss me? + maybe he’s just as potent as a habit, just as hard to kill. 
Favorite lines in general: i’ll be your ocean (your little mermaid) + you let the words fall from your lips, dribble down your skin like water droplets, and dissipate in the ocean of your feelings. watch them dissolve into the seafoam of your being and sink down, down, down. + it feels a little like that now as you card your fingers through his sweaty locks, dyed red like ariel’s, bright red against the blue of both your feelings. 
love is a losing game (we played anyways) + he looks at you like you hold the secrets of the universe, even as he tears through the valley of your breasts with the claws of his ambitions and devotion. + (the summary line: he builds cathedrals in your name, whispers prayers into your skin, and you shatter the stained glass windows of his dreams.) 
9,719km + nothing has been able to keep him out: not the gallery treasury in newport beach with its earthquake proof alarm system, not the cartier vault in new york city with its impressive randomized laser grid, and certainly not the flimsy, fickle alarm system of your heartbeat. 
LIST OF COMPLETED STORIES: [note: does tdol count? i’ll put it here anyways. also i suck at titles] the dictionary of lovers: heart the dictionary of lovers: confirmation the dictionary of lovers: perfect love is a losing game (we played anyways) monsters under the bed pens and paperwork i’ll be your ocean (your little mermaid) nine thousand, seven hundred nineteen kilometers you feel like a holiday
WIP TEASERS: welcome to wonderland (we’re all mad here) (aliceinwonderland!au) summary: queen of hearts!jk x alice!reader
excerpt: be careful in the woods, they whisper. so many girls have gotten lost and made it out with just their bodies intact, bones rattling hollow and mind astray. the girls mumble about tea parties with madness, about croquet games with the heads of the executed, before they are wheeled off to hospitals, still talking to the wall. 
be careful in the woods, they warn. it preys on your fear and feeds on your sanity, if you linger too long. 
i know you (i’ve walked with you once upon a dream) (dreamwalkers!au) summary: oc works for the department of dreams: bureau of night terrors as a dreamwalker. jungkook has chronic nightmares.
excerpt: They tell lucid dreamers to look down at their hands, notice the garbled image to recognize they’re in a dream. Your brain backtracks to what it last remembers. A click of the seatbelt, Jimin’s soft “sleep tight,” the cool air inside the tank. Darkness. You grip the wand a little tighter. 
Dreamscapes are weird, you think as you conjure up an ironwood table and a cup of earl grey. The fabric of reality is so thin, so permeable and malleable with the right amount of knowledge. If you think really hard, slip a hand through that curtain, you can still feel the cold air lingering on your skin from the tank. You look down at your watch. 8:44. Eight hours and fourty four minutes left to wander through other people’s nightmares. 
if the world was ending (you’d come over, right?) (au where the world slowly comes to a halt and you find yourself calling your ex. inspired by “if the world was ending” by jp saxe and julia michaels) summary: ex!tae x female!reader
excerpt: The world starts to freeze over when you’re on the bus ride home. 
Pedestrians pause in the middle of the sidewalk; cars decelerate in the middle of accelerations. The chatter in the bus groans to a stop, like a radio after the plug has been pulled, as everyone slowly freezes. Your hair, which once fluttered in the breeze, gently falls back into place. 
The traffic light is red. 
You pull your earbuds out. It’s quiet. Too quiet. 
“Hello?” you whisper, shaking the arm of your neighbor. No response. The silence is loud, almost deafening.
“Hello?” you walk down the aisle to where your driver sits. His face is still. Annoyance clouds his eyes, chest puffed like he was about to take a deep breath. One he’ll never take again. 
You shuffle your feet back and trip on the stairs, back slamming against plexi glass and metal.
The light never turns green. 
untitled (mermaid!au)
excerpt: Jungkook loves the sea, but he thinks he might like you a little bit more. You, with the sea breeze in your hair and summer storm in your eyes. There’s something about the way you sparkle like the ocean top, sun skimming across skin, that makes him think you might be more than human, a trick of light, an optical illusion.
untitled (desert princess x pirate!jk au) summary:  i love you the way ocean clings to shore, the way the horizon wants the sea, but, darling, we were never meant to be
excerpt: you’re pretty sure the ocean is enchanted, bright blue waters glimmering with magic. nothing else could explain how jeon jungkook, notorious pirate and thief, owns eyes that twinkle like the night sky and a face that puts the sunset to shame, unless he managed to somehow steal those too. you wouldn’t put it past him. + they name hurricanes after girls, he tells you. a prayer for gentleness, a hope for small casualties. huh, you reply, whoever came up with that idea must never have been caught in the storm of a girl. 
IN CONCLUSION: 
wow, could i be any more conspicuous about which drabble i like the most? why do i use so many parenthesis? also, i suck at titles and opening and closing lines. but hey, i’m trying, and sometimes that’s all i can ask from myself. i wrote a lot less than i thought but also more than i thought, so cheers to that. maybe next year will be better, maybe it’ll be worse. who knows? hopefully it’ll read easier though.  p.s. if you’ve read this and if you’ve read anything i’ve written, thank you for reading. thank you for sticking through the calamity of my thoughts, through the hurricane of my mind. you have no idea how much it means. i hope i’m able to make your day a little better, a little brighter, a little light in this time of darkness.  p.p.s. i’ve made a few friends on tumblr. i won’t tag them because i don’t want to put them through this awful clusterfuck of words, but if any of you read this, hi. you’ve really shaped my tumblr experience and i’m so glad to have met you all.  noor (papillionsgf): my butterfly, i adore you. you were my first tumblr friend and you’ve been nothing but sweet to me. thank you for talking to me and thank you for our lovely conversations, for letting me squeal about tfua, for  i absolutely adore you.  hana (cutechims): the two of us are awkward potatoes, and i still need to rewatch batman begins, but thank you for always being so sweet, so kind. i love talking with you and reading everything you write. you make me smile when i see you on my dash, with every response you send. jlin (bratkook): i slid into your tumblr dms because you’re so talented and so awfully pretty. i absolutely enjoy our conversations about rich folxs and karens, and i really hope the pandemic comes to an end because i would love to meet you in person and teach you aerial! (also i will bake you lots of cookies) erin (yeojaa): hi lovely. i adore you to the moon and back and to be honest, you still intimidate me because i love your writing so much, but i wanted to say how much i adore you and how i love talking to you. i hope you’re taking care of yourself and staying warm and i hope to get to know you better in 2021!
notes: adapted from lj, where i started writing! i used to see this a bit on lj (or maybe it was the circle of writers i followed) but i figured i’d bring it over here because it’s a good reflection piece and tumblr feels like a good place for that. 
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incarnateirony · 5 years
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Optimism, Nihilism, Absence, Realism.
Alright, so I’ve got time for some real talk here.
By the title you’re probably expecting a meta, but that’s not really what this is. It’s time for a rare post laced with enough negativity to break my mold, but more congealing thoughts I’ve been banging on about in the background since I came to tumblr into a set of realities on my thoughts on the show at large.
Before this begins, this is absolutely not an invitation to come to my wall and start crowing and screeching about your ship, your characters, bagging on the authors or anything else. If you can understand the difference between constructive conversation, and prim word laced unbridled and pointless cynicism and complaining, you’re welcome to engage, but don’t mildew up this post.
But it’s about time we talk about the elephant in the room with the show. And despite this fandom’s gong banging, it isn’t Andrew Dabb. It isn’t MuH dEStiEl. It isn’t muh poor baby (fave char)
It’s SingerBuckLeming.
And I mean, in a way that’s obvious, and I really don’t think everybody has really, truly, wrapped their heads around it because they’ll still come yelling about Dabb whenever anything goes wrong.
But Dabb isn’t the one that’s been obsessed with a psycho dark godbaby story; Dabb’s the one that tried to at least craft it into something fruitful for TFW and subvert it into something more than burning bibles -- it’s SingerBuckLeming trying to relive the Lois and Clark fantasy they were denied.
It’s not Dabb that decided to hard push the AUverse story and all its attached splendors. The idea started as a one-off intro idea for Wayward, but it had to be pushed off a year, and Leming admitted to snaring the idea and, summarily, attaching it to their evil godbaby and making it their plot point.
It’s not Dabb that has an honest to god boner for Mark P and can’t shut his mouth up about him, that’s Eugenie too. It’s not Dabb that obsesses over half crocked characters like Asmodeus and Donatello. It’s not Dabb addicted to big shiny CGI and super saiyan powerups.
You’ll notice how many of these ideas are enmeshed into one giant ball of fuckery that, somewhere along the way, Dabb has tried to groom into having some sort of substance but there’s a very clear line going on here.
“How does this relate to my ship/my favorite character reeee”, why? Because with the amount of weight being tossed around via advantageous nepotism and a different core cluster in the author room quite clearly on a different creative page than everybody else, guess what -- everybody else gets railroaded.
And at times, yes, some presentations are becoming stressed and stretched. They only way to even bring any sort of emotion to the content is by retreading or exaggerating emotional roads, especially at the end of seasons. A season starts strong, and poetic, and then somewhere around or right after episode 14 everything starts fucking falling apart, often with one or two disjointed episodes in advance but strong character driven arcs. Traction and motion are lost. Poetry starts falling into pieces. Superpowers and over the top manpain become the leading thing.
This happens every year, and this year is more vivid than last. I do remind people that the last time we had SingerBuckLeming throwing their weight around on decisions so hard they double-directed-and-wrote an episode was Dark Dynasty, which the rest of the author room was uncomfortable with, even argued about, even lost author heads in the aftermath of. Guess what - we just got our second episode like that. The attempt to work into this weight-throwing by the rest of an author room tends to turn into a lack of cohesive storytelling. S10 turned into a rapid degredation into a benny hill chase for a book. This year - well, shrug.
That’s not to say I agree with every piss and moan about characters being “OOC” as often, in this fandom, the fandom’s idea of “OOC” ends at “things I don’t personally like”. There are differences between OOC and just not really... belonging in the moment. Because they’re often things the character has in their range of potential action, but whether or not the story is cohesively meshed in a way that’s worth a damn is a WHOLE other topic.
And this has just gotten worse. As the writing room gets newer and younger and SingerBuckLeming age older and older -- some of you may have remembered my panic attack realizing BuckLeming were being seated in position to become the next showrunners and Bobo had been bumped back. At the time, even meta bloggers I trust held different opinions that, frankly, I considered daydreamy “Oh don’t worry BuckLeming only handle this but all of the emotional stuff goes through Dabb co” but no, once BuckLeming get their hands in enough of that, the rest ends up on a railroaded crash course everybody is trying to write around to deliver as better than a doggie doo bag.
And I think, honestly, J2M know that. I’m sure a huge amount of their decision was indeed about family time, but the real question is, looking at this show that SingerBuckLeming have been aggressively railroading off a damn cliff while everybody tries to compensate, is it really WORTH negotiating more family time, do they really WANT to wait for it to crash out, do they really WANT to let Eugenie Leming run the show out of gas in the middle of a desert with hew new, bestest idea once Dabb inevitably leaves and she and her baes get full reign to make the endless Lucifer clone fleet and their godbaby powers all going super saiyan? Is that what they want their legacy to be, or would they rather go home, and be with their family instead of propping this up as it continues to veer to the left?
I keep praying SBL disappear for the final season, kinda like Singer buggered off in S11. And it’s kinda sad, because I do recognize that without Singer we wouldn’t have the show at all but somewhere along the way, he lost his nut, he lost his directing skills, he lost common sense and he let his seniority get to his head, probably in tandem with bringing his wife back in and getting to be a power unit which is just WOEFULLY unadvised to be honest.
This is so far beyond how anyone’s ship or favorite character is treated. It’s about the internal war in a writing room that’s as clear as plain day that’s causing a deterioration of the show that Dabb has DESPERATELY been trying to curtail into SOMETHING of note only to catch shit from people who can’t do a little bit of common denominator searching into events even before his showrunning time that just keep getting louder.
Right now I’m at a point where I’m just begging for cohesion and emotional worth from the final season. For something that BuckLeming aren’t just throwing off the cliff like a sacrifice to their new, bigger, dumber idea once S14′s Jack Course reaches its cap. And honestly, I’d hope that’s everyone’s primary concern rather than circular bitching about whatever element they’re hyper fixated on because this is an issue that spreads well and far beyond whatever singularity you choose to scream about. And most people just blind sweep in rage at the first name that’s easy to pick out that they feel is responsible. But this has been going on. FOR YEARS. It’s just getting louder.
I try to not be negative about the show in general. I do appreciate Dabb, Berens, Yockey, Merecuda, and to some extent Perez (though I still hold he’s the least artistic of that bunch.) I’m still in love with Sgriccia and Wright and Showalter. I still love this crew. But I’ve never been shy about pointing out BuckLeming problems and at this point, it’s just THE problem, to whence nobody is even realizing where they need to set their sights and complaints at. Everything else is an emotional or continuum casualty in their fuck offs to the new shiny idea. Or, in cases of the Lois & Clark godbaby, their old AF tarnished idea.
Some people may remember me saying that without Dabb converting Jack into being a TFW mirror for catharsis, Jack’s only individual arc is that of a villain, and here we are swinging around full force with BuckLeming sinking in, waiting to see how Dabb may subvert that in the final episode. 
“I’m losing faith in Destiel” “I’m mad about Sam/Dean/Cas” “This plot is dumb” ultimately all fall down into the same goddamn railroading that habitually, like clockwork, louder each year, fucks up the end of a season and I just want them to disappear before the final season, but I doubt I’m going to get that. Maybe, just maybe, they can be staved knowing they won’t need the new ultimate escalation to carry on the show yet-again. Fingers and toes and arms crossed. 
That said, this vivid repeat of S10 author room shift should also, hopefully, give at least some potential hope to meta authors who at least remember that S11 was recoverable and was in fact recovered, and also had final season plans afoot. It was on the table, at least, in thought in early concept, just not without the true bang announcement to promise it through. So I’m going to hold out some hope that this is going to shape up fine in the end.
But don’t expect me to humor your bitter bitching about your ship or favorite character of choice. You wanna bitch about the strokes Singer seems to have had that have stripped his directorial gifts, or Eugenie’s obsession with SSJ archangels and Mark P, by all means. They’re major culprits in everything else being flattened on the way with an author room y’all are bitching at trying to make it at least vaguely cohesive.
I’m a natural optimist experiencing distinct nihilism at the absence of any sort of respect for the show or J2M going on with SBL right now, and as ever a realist looking at it in the frame of what’s going on beyond our surface level issues, and what I can hope to maintain to roll back around to the optimism part. Ouroboros. Hopefully ending at the start of the journey and not to loop back through the nihilism by next season.
Can they just retire? Please?
Dump Mark P. Dump Donatello. Hell, dump Jack at this point with as much as they’ve fucked that off again. Dump the AU. Dump the Drama Coffin. Dump the instaboop angels. Just dump all of their dumb ideas and let the final season roll out without the resulting tire fire of all of their ideas and suddenly, the show is infinitely cleaner. Don’t think this is all their bullshit? Literally follow their episode impact in reverse the last few years before you come at me. It’s literally all their bullshit.
I really don’t give a shit about fandom drama around Mark P’s opinions. I get it, but I don’t care. What I care about is his unwillingness to look at his character and refuse a contract for any sort of integrity, doing literally anything to pull a goddamn paycheck out of milking this show. His character, formerly one of the most inspiring renditions of an overshadowing idea of good and evil and biblical scale, has turned into a toddler throwing tantrums on the floor of mcdonalds, begged for redemption that underscores the entire point of the hero’s journey, splattered in remnants of Hallucifer that wasn’t even the original character, and just won’t go away.
And antis can say what they want about, say, Misha or Castiel, but his character at least has a solid direction, and growth, and a real hero’s journey. It’s not just vomit splatter on the wall of whatever he can be niched into like Not!Lucifer. Mark S at least had the dignity to leave when he saw shit degrading for his character.
Oh yeah a lot of that was BuckLeming too. The plotholes in Crowley’s story he called out were BuckLeming, who summarily pitched Rowena. And I love Rowena and Ruthie and wouldn’t undo it for the world but GODDAMN am I glad Yockey basically adopted her. She was turned into something past their basic dumb ideas and, as of yet, BuckLeming has yet to unravel that like they’re proactively doing with Jack after Dabb and co put so much effort into him.
Like literally the fandom’s collective bitchfits have a very common denominator and nobody’s willing to suss out why.
SingerBuckLeming seem to have had a collective stroke and still think they’re creating for Lois & Clark in the 70s and not Supernatural as made manifest into absurdity by 13.23; and several people like Mark Pellegrino refuse to have the basic decency to say, you know what, pass. I had my show here, it’s been good. They feed it. But it still falls back to SingerBuckLeming in the end at the heart of it. 
Not enough for you? Still think it has nothing to do with J2M or Mark Sheppard’s choices? Don’t even just listen to the scalding tea, look at the post-engagement between Jensen and Mark S.
youtube
They need to go away.
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branlovestowrite · 5 years
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The Decoy Groom (4/5): A CS Fanfic
Hello friends!  Apologies again for the delay! This has been a really busy time personally, and I haven't had much time to devote to writing. Here is part 4. No guarantees, but I will try to get the final installment up by the end of next week.
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This is my CS AU loosely (very loosely) based on the movie The Decoy Bride (starring Kelly MacDonald and David Tennant; it’s super cute and highly recommended). Brennan Jones is in this story, and, as it’s a no-magic AU, Tim Omundson will be playing that role.
Title: The Decoy Groom
Rating: M for chapters 1, 2, and 4. Chapter 3 is rated E for smut.
Summary: After a failed turn as a musician in Los Angeles, Killian Jones has returned to his home: Storybrooke Island, a remote, tiny island off the coast of Maine. Emma Swan is a famous actress that just wants one day out of the spotlight so she can get married. Storybrooke Island, just two miles long and accessible only by ferry, seems like the answer to her prayers. But will she really be able to keep her nuptials a private affair? And can Killian find the solace he craves when there’s a world-famous actress in town?
Need to catch up? Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Also on AO3
__________ __________ __________ __________ __________ 
Emma huffed in annoyance as she walked away from the lighthouse. Fortunately, Storybrooke Island being so tiny made it very easy to navigate. She knew that, as long as she followed the main road, she’d be at Granny’s soon. She kept to the grassy shoulder, cursing her bare feet. She was going to have the world’s best pedicure as soon as she got back to LA. 
  The pants Killian gave her sagged on her hips. She’d tied the drawstring as tight as she could, but she still feared for their ability to hold. The shirt he’d given her was likewise enormous, her figure swimming within it. She was sure that she looked like a wild person, storming along the side of the road with her bare feet, baggy clothes, and sex hair.
  Shit. She had sex hair. Of course she did. Before his girlfriend walked in, Killian had given her the best orgasm of her life. She very vividly remembered thrashing her head against the bedspread as he’d tended to her. The man had an extremely talented tongue. A small part of her wished the girlfriend hadn’t walked in so soon, so Emma could have seen what else he could do.
  But she immediately cursed herself at the thought. Killian was in a relationship. He’d cheated on his (very young) girlfriend, who’d sounded genuinely hurt when she’d found them together like that. Less than 24 hours ago, Emma had learned of her own fiance’s infidelity, and now she was helping another man do the same. She felt utterly wretched. How could Zelena have gone along with Walsh when she was fully aware that he was attached to, marrying, even, another woman? Just the thought that she’d caused pain for this Ruby was eating Emma from the inside out.
Were all men like this? Were the cynical anecdotes calling all men dogs speaking the truth? No, that couldn’t be the case. Her friend and lawyer David Nolan was the perfect example that there were good, honest men in the world. He loved his wife, Mary Margaret, with everything in him, and doted on her and their two children, Leo and Ava. David would never, not in a million years, cheat on Mary Margaret or do anything to hurt his family. Emma knew that without a doubt.
  So yes, there were good men in the world, but unfortunately Emma had a talent for finding the rotten ones. She stomped along the road, uncaring now if anyone saw her. Let her come upon Sidney Glass now. She’d strike a pose for him in all her crazy glory. Let it make all the papers. She didn’t care anymore.
  As she continued her trek, passing by a few houses set along the main road, she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Killian catching up.
  “Swan! Please, wait.”
  “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say!”
  “But, Emma, please, I need to explain.”
  “Explain what?! How you willingly cheated on your adolescent girlfriend? What’s the matter? Get tired of spending time with a youngin’ and wanted to experience something with someone your own age?”
  “Damn infuriating woman!” Killian yelled before she could continue her tirade. “Ruby is NOT my girlfriend!”
  Emma stared at him, unable to think of a coherent response. Killian was huffing, out of breath like he’d run to catch up with her. After a drawn-out silence, she finally spoke up. “She’s not?”
  “No!” His face twisted in an expression of disgust. “I’ve known her since she was very little. She’s like a sister to me in many ways. I could NEVER be with her in that way.”
  “Then what the hell was going on back there? Because that wasn’t how a sister speaks to a brother.”
  “She is very young, and I think she's trying to make a point of owning her sexuality. She made a pass at me yesterday, and I failed to let her down properly. I led her to think I was more open to participating in those…” here he waved his hand in the air in front of his face, “…activities with her than I actually am.”
  “So you see her as a sister, but she doesn’t see you as a brother?”
  “Precisely.”
  Emma was dumbfounded. The emotional turmoil of the day had reared up once more, and she felt the stirrings of tears in her cheeks and nose. “So… you aren’t dating her?”
  “No, Emma. Please believe me. I would never cheat on someone I was with. That’s not the kind of man I am or want to be. Being a man of honor is one of the most important things to me.”
  “Honor… right. So… I suppose my actions weren’t very honorable, were they? Seducing you like I did and then using you to make myself feel better.” Damnit! She promised herself not to be self-pitying, but there it was.
  “Swan, please don’t feel bad. What we did, before Ruby walked in, was incredible. The most amazing experience of my life.” Killian paused, appearing to be deciding something, before he grabbed her hand in his and squeezed it gently. “I am truly sorry you were given the wrong impression, and that my thoughtless actions led to that.”
  Emma pulled his hand closer and held it against her chest, closing her eyes and breathing in his masculine scent. He smelled so good, woodsy with a hint of ocean air. For a brief moment, standing with this man she felt an unexplainable connection to, she had a strong longing for home. A longing fiercer than she'd ever felt before. Visions flashed in her mind of settling down in this very island. Living a quiet life, away from the press. Sidney wouldn't stay here forever. What if she stayed after he left? 
  Killian stepped in closer, tentatively wrapping his other arm around her waist. "What are you thinking of?"
  "What was it like, growing up on this island?"
  "Um… dull at times, most certainly, but also quite idyllic. Life here moves at a different pace."
  "What's your favorite memory?"
   He paused for a moment, considering. "I remember trips to the farmer's market on the mainland with Angie. It was an all day affair. She'd get us boys up early and we'd take the ferry over. We'd go to the market with her and load up on produce and sometimes fresh meats and cheeses. I loved sampling all the different wares from the vendors. After we were done there, she'd take us boys to the library and let us spend an hour picking out books to bring back with us. We'd ride the ferry back and show dad all our acquisitions. After mine and Liam's lackluster upbringing, it was quite nice to have so much… normalcy."
  Emma sighed deeply, picturing herself in the same situation. "That would be lovely." She opened her eyes to meet his gaze. "Maybe it's all the insane events of the last day, but I can't help but think about how nice it would be to hide away from all the craziness here."
  "Are you saying you'd want to… stay?"
  "I don't know," she answered honestly. "I have friends and responsibilities in LA, but this seems like such a nice refuge."
  __________ __________ __________ __________ __________
Killian felt his heart speed up in his chest at the thought of Emma staying.He stood in awe of her, still beautiful even as she stood there in baggy clothes with messy hair. He'd treasure a chance to court her properly, and his mind ran away with visions of taking her a proper date.
  Footsteps in the gravel road burst their bubble. The land sloped in just such a way that they could not see the person presently cresting the hill. In a rush Killian recalled why he was running to warn Emma.
  "Swan, I don't know how, but there are more reporters on the island. Ruby mentioned it, and I came to warn you."
  Her face paled in response. "Oh god… a minute ago I was ready to take on Sidney, but I don't think I could do it anymore. At least not dressed like this!"
  Taking stock of their surrounding, Killian spotted a small house sitting by the side of the road. He pointed to it. "That home there is vacant. Go hide in it."
  "Won't it be locked?"
  "No one locks their doors here."
  She eyed him warily, but turned to do as he instructed. Killian followed, seeing her safely inside the home before turning to face their intruder.
  Brennan Jones crested the hill, smiling when he saw his son.
  “Killian!” he called out. “Great news!”
  Killian stayed by the side of the house Emma was hiding in and waited for his father to approach. “What’s up, Dad?”
  “I just made an easy $5,000, and I’ve got a chance for another twenty grand!”
  Eyeing his father wearily, Killian asked “How?”
  “I called my old friend Sidney Glass last night and told him what you told me about Emma Swan being on the island. He paid me five grand off the bat and told me he’d give me a cut of whatever he gets for selling his pictures. He said he could easily get a hundred grand for it, and that would mean twenty for me!”
  Killian gaped at his father. “You… what? How do you even know Sidney Glass?”
  “We worked together for a bit when I first came to the States, before I met Angie and moved here. I knew he was a journalist, so when you told me that last night, I gave him a call.”
  “I…dad… I can’t believe you! I told you last night to leave her alone! Why would you do this?”
  Brennan looked at his son as if he’d sired a moron. “Because Sidney is paying me,” he replied, drawing his words out slowly.
  “Dad, if you need money, I could’ve helped you get some. We’d have figured it out. You didn’t need to sell out that poor woman in the process.”
  “What’s going on with you? I figured you’d be happy for me.”
  “Well I’m bloody well not! Why the hell did you need that money anyway?”
  Seeming to finally comprehend the fact that Killian was angry with him, Brennan struck back. “Because I need to get the hell off this island!” he yelled in response.
  “What?” Killian asked, the flames in his belly instantly receding as he registered the pain in his father’s voice.
  “I need to get away!” Brennan cried, choking on his tears. “I only moved here because Angie wanted to. I see her everywhere I look. I can’t stand it anymore. I’m going to sell the house and move to the mainland, back to a city.”
  “Dad,” Killian said, at a loss for words. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his father. He knew Brennan was having a hard time dealing with Angie’s death, but he’d never known how much pain the other man was in.
  “I miss her,” Brennan choked into his son’s shoulder.
  Killian patted his father’s back. Movement from one of the windows caught his eye, and he saw Emma peeking out from behind the curtain. It appeared she’d heard everything, and looked just as conflicted as he felt.
  When Brennan seemed to run out of tears, Killian released him. “Why don’t you go back to the house, dad? I need to take care of something with Ruby, and then I’ll head home and we can figure this out. We don’t need to sell out Emma Swan to get you what you want.”
  “Okay,” Brennan said with a hiccup. “I’ll see you there. Fish sandwiches or stew for dinner?”
  Killian cracked a smile. “How about burgers, at Granny’s? My treat.”
  “Alright son. I’ll see you later.”
  Brennan stepped away, walking more slowly toward his house than he’d been before encountering his son. Killian breathed a deep sigh before turning toward the door to the house and knocking briefly.
  __________ __________ __________ __________ __________
Emma opened the door to a very anxious Killian.
  “Swan… I am so sorry. I truly had no idea my father even knew Sidney Glass, and if I’d had an idea of what he was going to do, I would have told you straightaway.”
  “I believe you,” Emma replied, calmly. 
  “How much did you hear?” he asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck.
  “Everything.” She stared at him across the threshold. “You’re really sure we’re okay to squat in this house? I find it hard to believe no one lives here.”
  “I can guarantee you that no one does,” Killian replied, gesturing toward the covered furniture in the living room. “The previous owner died last year, and people aren’t exactly clamoring to move to the island.”
  “But the house still has electricity. Wouldn’t that have been shut off with no one paying the bill?”
  “The electricity for the island comes from a generator. The residents have a collective that they pay into each month to maintain it. I’d imagine everyone just increased their contribution when Mrs. White died. It’s not like anyone was in the house to use it.” He sighed and slumped into a covered chair. “Anyway, we’ll be fine to stay here for today.”
  “Okay, good. I wonder if I can wait out those reporters.”
  “Would you like me to fetch Elsa and bring her here?”
  Emma felt her face relax for the first time that day. “Would you?”
  “Of course, love. I feel terrible about what my dad did.”
  “It’s not your fault. This entire day has been such a disaster.”
  “Even so, I wish I could go back to yesterday and stop him from placing that phone call.”
  Emma breathed slowly, unsure how to respond. They stood for a moment, in awkward silence, and she felt an overwhelming urge to kiss the man. At the same time, her cheeks began to flare, reflecting the shame she felt at having so wantonly seduced him. She snuck a peak at his face and recognized the same play of emotions on Killian’s face. They both opened their mouths at the same time to speak, then both closed their lips. Just when she thought she would scream from the discomfort of the situation, Killian broke the tension.
  “Bloody hell… I want to kiss you so badly.”
  __________ __________ __________ __________ __________
Emma gasped at his words, and Killian almost took that as permission to step forward and capture her mouth with his own. He imagined her moaning as he wrapped his lips around her pout, sucking gently. In contrast to their earlier actions, he would keep the kiss soft, tenderly tracing first her upper then her lower lip with his tongue. He pictured her tilting her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and him threading a hand through her hair, gently cupping the back of her head. Her hands would slide around his neck and onto his shoulder blades, scrambling for purchase. Killian’s other hand would slide down to her hip, pulling her body into his own.
  “Killian… Killian… Are you there?”
  He startled back to awareness, staring at the siren before him. He’d never had an experience like there, where he drifted off fantasizing about a woman. “Sorry love. You were saying?”
  Emma grimaced, and he felt a tiny pang that he was making her repeat something unpleasant. “I was saying that I don’t think…” she sighed heavily before continuing. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to repeat what we did earlier. At least not today. I need to take some time to get my head on straight. This last day has been insane. It wouldn’t be fair to you if I jumped into something new before getting myself settled.”
  The pang in his chest expanded to a full-blown heartache. Although her words made complete sense, Killian couldn’t help feeling rejected. When would he ever see her again once she left the island? It’s not like he could follow her back to LA and show up on her doorstep. Considering all her struggles with the press, her home was no doubt behind a veritable fortress of security measures.
  He cleared his throat and looked at his shoes. “Of course. I understand. Should I go and fetch Elsa now?”
  “Um… yes, please.” He turned to open the door. She spoke again as he was reaching for the handle. “Killian?”
  There was traitorous flutter of hope in his heart. “Yes, love?”
  She opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it. Just as he’d determined to turn again and continue on his new mission, she decided what to say. “Thank you. For… for everything. These last 24 hours have been excruciating, but you have been my port in the storm.”
  Killian closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. After living on an island for most of his life, and spending his formative years working on a fishing boat, the fact that she used a nautical metaphor touched him. It spoke to how well matched they were, making her rejection sting more. 
  “I am glad to have had a chance to help you.”
  He turned before she could say anything else and walked away from the house, toward the Inn, where he expected Elsa to be. The walk felt like it took mere seconds, barely giving him any time to clear the tears swimming in his eyes.
  Stepping up to Granny’s, he encountered a bigger crowd than he’d ever seen in the diner, even during the tourist season. Every table was full, including the three wrought-iron tables on the porch. Granny appeared behind the counter as he walked in. 
  “There you are! Your dad was asking where you’d got to today.” 
  Killian walked around the bar to face her, noting that the bar itself was also brimming with people. “What’s all this?”
  “Reporters!” Granny said, not bothering to hide her disgust, though, by the looks of it, she was going to have a record-setting day for sales. “They’re all here camping out because they think some damn actress is staying on the island!”
  “Emma Swan! We go’ a tip that she’d be here and there’d be a ‘ell of a story!” Chimed in one man, slumping over the bar top, his head resting in his hands lazily.
  Killian looked questioningly to Granny, but she only grunted in annoyance before refilling the man’s beer. Having been dismissed, Killian continued toward the back of the diner. Most of the patrons would assume he was visiting the restroom, but he took a turn at the last second and ascended the back stairs toward the Inn.
  Once upstairs, he knocked on the door to the room he knew Elsa was staying in.
  From the other side of the door, he heard her yell “Go the fuck away you vultures, or I will sue your ass so hard that your grandchildren will still be paying your debts!”
  “It’s me,” he hissed. “Killian Jones.”
  Elsa cracked the door and peered out, before finally opening it entirely and letting him enter. “Thank God. Where’s Emma. Is she okay?”
  “She’s fine. She’s safe. We found a house that she’s hiding in.”
  “Thank the Lord.”
  “Why are all these people here? I wouldn’t think Sidney Glass would be the kind of man to share a story.”
  “Fucking Walsh tipped them off. I’m sure this is part of his plan to punish Emma for wising up to his bullshit.”
  “That bastard,” Killian growled in response. “What are you going to do?”
  “I have a plan. Can you get me to Emma?”
  “Yeah.”
  “Okay good,” Elsa replied, picking up a leather duffel. 
  “What’s in there?”
  “A change of clothes and some makeup and hair supplies. I’d imagine Emma is in need of freshening up, and she’ll want to look her best for the next phase of the plan.”
  “Which is?”
  “I’ll tell you on the way. Let’s go.”
  __________ __________ __________ __________ __________
Emma could do nothing but pace the length of the small living room while she awaited Killian’s return. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized with a pang that she hadn’t eaten anything all day. In vain she looked through the pantry and cabinets of the kitchen, but found nothing to eat.
  As she was closing the last cabinet, she heard the front door to the house open, and her heart jumped into her throat. She eyed the back door, preparing to bolt again, when she heard Elsa’s voice.
  “Emma?!”
  Relief flooded her body, and she turned to embrace her friend.
  “Oh! You’re okay!” Elsa cooed, hugging her tighter. “I was so worried!”
  Emma couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m okay, Els. I’m okay.”
  “Good.” Elsa replied. “Today has gone to utter shit.”
  “I know. Killian told me about all the reporters. I know now how Sidney got here, but I have no idea how they knew about it.”
  “Wait… you know who tipped off Sidney?”
  Emma looked up to see Killian over Elsa’s shoulder. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Erm… my dad, he… he knew Sidney from when they were young. He called and let Glass know Emma was here after I mentioned to him last night that I thought I saw her.”
  Elsa rounded on the man. “You what?! Did you know about this all along?!”
  “No! No! I swear, I had no clue.” 
  “He’s telling the truth, Els.”
  Elsa looked at her incredulously, so Emma recounted what she’d overheard Brennan Jones say to his son. Elsa still looked wary once she’d finished, but seemed pacified.
  “Okay, we can work with that.” She paused, and Emma could see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. 
  “What are you planning?”
  Squaring her shoulders, Elsa turned to fully face Emma. “It’s time for you to stop running. Even without Killian’s dad interfering, Walsh sold you out. It’s time to expose him for the piece of shit he is.”
  “How do you propose to do that?” Killian asked.
  She looked at him slyly. “With you.”
  “Pardon?”
  “Your dad wants money to buy a house somewhere off the island, right? We will pay you enough money to buy a house cash if you will agree to pretend to be Emma’s husband for one year.”
  “What?” Emma asked, panic lacing her tone.
  “We’re gonna get you cleaned up, walk right up to the diner, and have a press conference.”
__________ __________ __________ __________ __________
@artistic-writer @bubblegum1425 @captainkillianswanjones @fairytaleprincessatlast @flslp87@gingerchangeling@hollyethecurious @hookswan25 @initiala@jonirobinson64 @kday426 @kingofmyheart14 @kmomof4@kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @nerdyhuntress @nikkiemms@objectsatsleepstayatsleep @princesseslikepirates @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @sherlockianwhovian@shireness-says @snidgetsafan @snowbellewells @teamhook@thejacketandthehook @thejollyroger-writer @thislassishooked@welllpthisishappening @winterbythesea @winterbaby89@wingedlioness @withheartfulloflove @wyntereyez
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tvdversefanfiction · 4 years
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Canary Carnage
Fandoms: Arrowverse, DC Universe, TVDverse and The Originals
Chapter Six: Carnage of Bane
Warnings: I don’t own any of the rights, content or characters belonging to any of the DC content I use within the story along with not owning any rights, content or characters within The Vampire Diaries, Originals or Legacies.
18 Rating: Moderate/Graphic displays of violence, sexual innuendos, sexually charged scenes, SMUT, strong language and potentially triggering scenes.
Pairings: M/M, F/F, M/F.
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Marcel Gerard had survived centuries as a vampire who claimed himself the king of New Orleans the city he was born and had dealt with the Mikaelson family many times having seen Klaus Mikaelson as his father figure while finding himself falling in love with Klaus’ favorite sibling Rebekah.
He had seen the family of original vampires come and go from his city a few times now and despite his fondness for Rebekah or his complicated history with Klaus New Orleans often came first to the upgraded original and it was due to his loyalty towards his city that he wasn’t willing for their recent return to lead them to regaining any more control.
In the years since the Mikaelson’s fled New Orleans Marcel had constructed a perfect city of his own idealism with the help of Hayley Marshall and many other New Orleans residents and it was his love for this city that cost him his love for Rebekah so when the originals returned home he knew he’d need to make new alliances to keep Klaus from dethroning him once more.
Marcel knew Hayley’s dedication to the Mikaelson family especially her daughter was stronger than her commitment to the city knowing she’d take their side over his in a heartbeat and therefore he needed people he could trust starting with the girl he loved like a daughter the wonder witch Davina Claire who returned to the city reclaiming her title as Regent with the New Orleans witches.
One thing was for sure in Marcel’s mind if he was going to keep the Mikaelson family in line especially with Elijah’s recent return he was going to need all the alliances he could get even if it meant partnering with the canaries in order to do so which despite Davina’s fondness of the Black Canary and the White Canary had Marcel less than pleased due to being forced to work alongside the Red Canary who didn’t exactly make the best first meeting with the upgraded original.
“Is there a particular reason you’re standing outside of this hotel in particular?” Laurel Lance questioned Marcel after speeding to the front door of the hotel her and her siblings had called home, only to find Marcel stood there waiting, while holding a large brown envelope. “If you’re here to claim revenge on my brother then you’re out of luck he’s still not back from France and I’m not sure he’s going to be coming back.”
“Let me guess your little brother has a tendency for disappearing and leaving you to clear up the mess?” Marcel asked the Black Canary. “I’m here for you actually…I have gift for you that will help you level the playing field against a certain family of originals you’ve sincerely pissed off.”
“I thought you were a part of that family or did all that change when you upgraded?” Laurel wondered, knowing she trusted Davina who trusted Marcel but also knowing Marcel’s beef with her brother making her uncertain of whether to trust him herself.
“You and your brother are now the proud owners of the New Orleans Voyage hotel I was going to put your sister down as co-owner too but there’s no point now she’s a vampire.” Marcel informed her while handing the envelope to Laurel. “You’re a lawyer so you’ll know all the paperwork is above board I even changed property details ever so slightly so that this business now classes as a home.”
“This is a very generous gift why would you do this for me or my brother especially my brother?” Laurel questioned the upgraded original while opening the envelope and checking the deeds to the hotel.
“Because now you can walk into the Mikaelson’s home whenever you want but they can’t come into yours.” Marcel answered her. “Also, because I want to align myself with you not so much your brother but I’m willing to compromise.”
“Okay, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here…” Laurel scoffed before Marcel interrupted her.
“No games I know you’re a good-hearted gal who just wants to protect the world which means you also want what’s best for my city and that’s me.” Marcel replied to the Black Canary. “I don’t want the Mikaelson’s dead at least not anymore but I want them out of this city just as much as Davina does and rumor has it your sister’s got you banned from your old home so I thought giving you a new one would be a good gift.”
“I honestly have no idea what to say…” Laurel admitted, in shock by her latest alliance proposal. “I’m not sure I can trust you and trust is a big thing for me.”
“Laurel Lance I’m the only person both outside this hotel and inside it that you can trust.” Marcel told her honestly. “I know you don’t trust your brother because you’re not a fool and you don’t know your sister any better than your enemies around here.”
Marcel had a genuine point and they both knew it, after all the years her sister Sara had been missing and the secrets that had been exposed since her return it was never going to be easy for Laurel to just trust her blindly especially when last time it resulted in her sister sleeping with her boyfriend and although Lucas had been recently showing some hope of not being an entirely emotionless psychopath she’d be a fool to give him any of her trust.
The only person so far that had proved themselves trustworthy to Laurel Lance was the wonder witch Davina Claire and she knew Davina loved Marcel like a father, a love he must of earned and if he could earn that maybe he could also earn her trust.
Elijah Mikaelson was torn about his recent return to New Orleans on one hand it was great to be back home and surrounded by his family once again but on the other he had experienced life without the constant betrayals, deaths and sacrifices that came along with being by his family side and although he’d never admit it to his siblings a part of him wished they had never found him.
As usual with his family the noble original returned to them learning news of yet another war they had found themselves in although this time their opponents intrigued Elijah who had never heard of other worlds or meta-humans and wanted to learn more about his rivals, that’s if his brother Klaus allowed them to live long enough for Elijah’s curiosity to be fed.
Elijah had already met Lucas Lance whose scream banished the hollow from within him before the Red Canary’s blood kick-started the original vampire’s memories and he couldn’t help but wonder what else Lucas and his siblings could do especially his sister Sara who had recently turned vampire.
Elijah was devastated to learn of his sister Freya’s death and her lover Keelin’s and wanted revenge just as much as his siblings perhaps even more he considered as he quickly realized Rebekah had struck up somewhat of a friendship with Laurel and Klaus found himself enticed by Lucas, Elijah had no personal attachment to either of the three canaries so he was willing to do whatever it took but unlike his fiery siblings Klaus, Rebekah and Kol he wanted to play this at his own pace with as little emotion as possible.
“Clearly whatever the bloody hell Lucas did to your mind has clearly fried it somehow.” Rebekah snapped at her older brother Elijah as the two of them stood opposite the fountain within the Mikaelson compound. “Freya died because of that bitch and I’ll be damned if your return pulls the break on my revenge!”
“It’s nice to see your still very much the same Rebekah.” Elijah said with a smile, amused by his sister’s outburst. “I want revenge more than anything but let’s be logical for a moment think more like Niklaus perhaps.”
“Oh god,” Rebekah replied while looking at the noble original with disgust. “That canary blood has done some terrible damage to you Elijah.”
“So far their screams banished the hollow and their blood returned my memories as well as tasting very delicious I must add.” Elijah tried to explain to the original female vampire. “Their talents may perhaps come in useful yet why not figure that out before instantly killing them all? Besides it would give you more time to bond with Laurel Lance about your shared struggles of having siblings.”
“Firstly, I wasn’t bonding I was distracting I just happened to get lucky with her having siblings almost as terrible as mine.” Rebekah snapped. “Secondly, you just want this feud to last as long as bloody possible so you can prolong your conversation with Hayley.”
“That is completely not true Rebekah.” Elijah lied; Rebekah was too correct for his liking. “I simply just want my siblings to think before carnage ensues straight away.”
“They killed Freya we kill them it’s really that simple.” Rebekah corrected her brother. “Take the rest and lock them up as lab rats for all I bloody care but I want Sara Lance dead by the end of today and I don’t mean undead!”
“Very well.” Elijah caved while rolling his eyes at his sister, knowing he would have to compromise with her. “Just keep the other two alive…for now.”
Lucas Lance had taken his recent trip to France as an opportunity to spend some time away from New Orleans and reconsider his strategies going forward after almost dying at the hands of both Klaus and Elijah he considered it was time to start taking them as serious threats and to get into survivalist mode.
He had considered leaving his sisters Laurel and Sara to fend for himself while he found somewhere far away from the originals to call home but as much as Klaus Mikaelson infuriated the Red Canary he was just as equally fascinated by the original hybrid and deep down for once in his life he didn’t want to run from his family, well at least not for now.
After a few days recharging his batteries as he prepared for an inevitable war against Klaus he decided it was time to return to New Orleans not sure what to expect as he walked into the reception area of the hotel he and his sisters had claimed for their only to find nobody there as he feared his time away may have resulted in some trouble for Laurel and Sara.
His fears were quickly cut short as he walked into the hotel’s bar to see both Laurel and Sara sat at the counter drinking bottles of beer, much to his momentary relief as he walked over to them quickly realizing questions were going to be asked.
“A text or a call would’ve been nice to know you made it out of France alive.” Laurel snapped at her brother as she stood up for face him, making it clear she was far from happy with her youngest sibling. “I thought Klaus had killed you.”
“Oh, calm down Laurel you thought I was dead for a few days it’s not like I went missing for a few years taking your boyfriend with me.” Lucas replied to Laurel, while making a dig at Sara at the same time.
“Do you want to tell me when the bloody hell you spiked me with vampire blood?” Sara demanded from the Red Canary as she too stood up, clearly also pissed at her brother. “You don’t just go spiking people with that kind of shit!”
“I guess we’re back to the old days with sister act taking on the littlest prey well guess what guys I’m not one of you and nor do I ever want to be one of you. Laurel you’re such a doormat you were mourning instead of celebrating the deaths of two backstabbing bitches who never cared about you enough to stop sleeping with each other.” Lucas snapped back at them both before turning his cruelty towards Sara. “As for you, you’ve clearly killed a lot of people as an assassin and instead of embracing who you are your running from it trying to be someone who quite frankly neither of us ever cared for.”
“Hold up you turned me into a vampire a freaking vampire and you want to come at me because I want answers.” Sara shouted at her younger brother. “Just because I’ve killed doesn’t make me a killer…I never enjoyed anything I did while with the league of assassins, but you clearly enjoy every twisted little thing you do!”
“Well I don’t enjoy everything I do for example I’m clearly regretting keeping you alive when I should’ve just waited for you to wind up dead.” Lucas cruelly replied to the White Canary. “I had come here with a plan of action a way to win this war that you technically got us into but on seconds thoughts I’d rather just go solo with this one and see how long you last.”
“Lucas!” Laurel shouted over them both, demanding her siblings’ attention before going on to ask her brother. “What plan have you come up with now?”
“Like I said I think I’m better off going solo with this one.” Lucas answered his oldest sister before super speeding his way out of sight.
“When the hell did, he get so bloody twisted?” Sara asked her sister while rolling her eyes, trying to calm herself from her argument with Lucas.
“Hard to tell really but I do know that’s him saved us both now and we’ve not given him the credit for it.” Laurel replied. “I’ve waited a long time to see some good in him Sara and since we wound up here, I’ve not only seen it but I’m seeing it grow.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me Laurel he turned me into a bloodsucking monster!” Sara moaned at her sister.
“You’re also still breathing because of it just like I’m still breathing because of his actions when Rebekah and Kol tried to kill me.” Laurel explained to her sister. “I’m not trusting him or anything stupid like that, but we are down one canary cry now you’re a vampire and he is the reason we’re both still in this fight.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive him for this Laurel, what he’s done it’s changed me forever and he didn’t even tell me beforehand.” Sara told her older sister, hoping for some wisdom from the Black Canary.
“What you did to me stealing the man I loved then being presumed dead before I found out and stealing my rage from me in the process that changed me in many ways, some for the better and some not so much.” Laurel stated, making it clear she was taking her brother’s side for once. “Except what you did wasn’t to save me it was to destroy me…if anyone has valid reasons to be pissed off at either of use it’s me!”
Klaus Mikaelson was thrilled to have his family back under one roof barring his daughter Hope who was in Mystic Falls attending Salvatore Boarding School and his eldest sibling Freya who had recently died at the hands of the White Canary. Despite this loss Klaus had found himself happier than he had been in a long time because now he had Elijah, Rebekah and even Kol back in his life as they fought together against their common foes.
However, Klaus couldn’t help but notice Elijah wasn’t quite himself and was having a hard time readjusting to life back in New Orleans as the original hybrid hoped his elder brother would settle better once he was reunited with Hayley Marshall who was currently visiting her and Klaus’ daughter Hope.
For once in Klaus Mikaelson’s thousand year existence he had began to wonder whether or not vengeance was the correct thing to preoccupy himself with at that moment, he considered going to spend some more time with his daughter or concentrating on helping Elijah get back to his normal self but deep down he knew why he was attempting to prolong his revenge against the canaries and that reason was none other than the Red Canary himself.
Klaus didn’t know how but Lucas Lance had managed to get under the hybrid’s skin when he wasn’t expecting it, he saw the darkness the Red Canary battled with, the weaknesses within he tried to hide and his hatred yet twisted devotion he had towards his sisters and found himself wanting to learn more about the youngest canary.
He wanted to know how this man found himself down such a dark path why his blood-lust was as bad as his own and how he managed to prove himself quite the foe against Klaus and his family time and time again.
Of course Klaus was fascinated with the canaries in general, their abilities were unlike anything he had ever seen and they came from another world he never even knew existed but it was the Red Canary that managed to claim most of the original hybrid’s fascination.
“Don’t tell me you killed the bartender just to get some time to yourself to drink.” Klaus joked after vamp speeding into Rousseau's to find Lucas sat at the counter drinking a bottle of whisky to himself. “My family have grown rather fond of Josh I’d hate to have to add another reason to kill you.”
“Don’t worry I just claimed the place today under the promise of not destroying anything again besides you already have plenty of reasons to want me dead.” Lucas replied before taking another drink from the bottle. “Question is are you here to kill me now or are you just looking for a drink?”
“I was simply looking for a drink had I known you’d be in here I’d have gone somewhere else.” Klaus lied to Lucas as he walked towards the Red Canary and sat down next to him, having been told by Josh already who was residing within Rousseau's. “Are you going to share that bottle or start screaming at me?”
“This isn’t some play is it because I thought you’d be wiser than to try and play me again?” Lucas wondered as he handed Klaus the bottle of whisky, which Klaus grabbed with forced grabbing Lucas’ hand in the process as the two stared at each other intensely.
“You’d love for me to really play with you, wouldn’t you?” Klaus asked with a flirtatious smile on his face, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“You only flirt when you’re planning on killing a sister of mine but luckily for you, I’m not in the saving sister mode today.” Lucas replied as he moved the bottle from Klaus’ grip, placing the bottle on the counter and began to lean slowly towards the original hybrid.
“I guess your back to trying to murder your sisters yourselves then?” Klaus scoffed for a moment before beginning to lean towards Lucas, the two meeting in the middle as their lips were mere inches away from meeting once again. “Maybe that means I don’t have to waste time distracting you?”
“Maybe it does…” Lucas teased with a flirtatious smile, only for the two of them to be interrupted by the door to the bar flying of its hinges as Lucas’ old ally turned enemy Bane walked into Rousseau's wearing his usual attire and causing both Lucas and Klaus to rise to their feet to face one of the infamous Batman’s greatest foes.
“It’s good to see you again Red Canary.” Bane said through the mask which changed his voice, making him sound even more sinister than he looked.
Bane was often referred to as one of Batman’s greatest enemies who managed to break the bat not just physically but also mentally.
He was feared by many due to his seemingly unmatchable strength, his ever-growing kill count and the sinister mask he wore which was attached to a tube at the back of the head leading downwards to his wrist, the mask also giving the villain a terrifying voice that even the villains of Gotham City were afraid of.
One of the few people who wasn’t terrified of Bane upon first meeting was none other than the Red Canary Lucas Lance who was fresh off a partnership with The Joker and Harley Quinn and eager for a new partner in crime.
Lucas Lance was a hyper active individual who often talked too much even in Arkham were very few talked to each other, he also never failed to get his flirt on even when the prison guards at Arkham Asylum would torture him it was almost like the Red Canary enjoyed his time in there and that baffled Bane.
Bane liked his peace within the asylum in fact that was the only thing he enjoyed about being held prisoner there and with dampening devices, gasses and materials layered within the walls of the asylum he couldn’t beat the canary into silence so instead he found himself debating with him instead which led to an inevitable team up between the two leading to an escape plan.
However, Bane became one of many who quickly found themselves double crossed by the Red Canary who used Bane to overpower the guard and break the two free as the two villains made it outside of the building Lucas was quick to take advantage of his recently returned power and canary cried into his partner’s ears until Bane gave in and was left unconscious giving Lucas the opportunity to get far while Bane dealt with the staff inside Arkham Asylum.
“One could presume it’s safe to say this guy is from your world.” Klaus stated as he and Lucas stood side by side in Rousseau's while Bane stood in front of them both staring Lucas up and down, clearly wanting revenge.
“Is this your new partner?” Bane asked while looking Klaus up and down. “You’ve clearly ran out of willing participants.”
“Yeah I’m not his partner I’m his enemy just like you I’d assume.” Klaus snapped back at the mysterious mountain of a man standing in front of him.
“When did you get out of Arkham? Better yet when the hell did you get here?” Lucas questioned his former cellmate with a clear look of terror on his face, a look that didn’t go unnoticed by Klaus.
“I’m here to kill you Lucas Lance!” Bane announced before charging towards Klaus and Lucas, Lucas instantly launching a canary cry towards his enemy making Bane stop in one spot.
Lucas continued to use his cry with more and more intensity the strength of the vibrations growing stronger and stronger as glasses all around the bar including the glass windows exploded while the ground beneath them all shook viciously as Bane stood there barely effected at all and much to Lucas and Klaus’ horror began to walk forward pushing past the force of Lucas canary cry before Klaus grabbed a hold of Lucas, stopping his cry in the process and vamp sped into the backroom with the Red Canary slamming the door shut and speeding to move a large table in front of the door hoping to hold Bane from getting in too soon.
“I’ve never seen anyone fight back against your cry before and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you scared before.” Klaus said to Lucas as Bane began crashing up against the door, making it clear to them both it wouldn’t keep him out for long.
“You’ve never met Bane before even Batman is scared of Bane and Batman’s scared of nobody.” Lucas mumbled to Klaus, a look of terror still paralyzing the Red Canary. “I really need to stop screwing over everyone I meet.”
“Who the hell is Batman?” Klaus wondered why launching the cellar door in the backroom leading to the tunnels open with force just in time for Bane to burst into the backroom.
“I’ll explain later.” Lucas answered as both he and Klaus sped down into the cellar towards the tunnels, eager to leave Bane behind who grunted a large scream of frustration before walking towards the cellar door.
Klaus Mikaelson had worked relentlessly to strike fear in the eyes of each canary since they arrived in his city and somehow had failed much to his own fury so when the day came when he saw Lucas terrified he’d thought it would bring him nothing but pleasure but instead he found himself anything but happy to see the fierce and fiery canary left broken by a mere encounter by Bane.
Normally Klaus would’ve stayed put and fought against Bane whether Bane turned out to be stronger than the original hybrid or not Klaus wasn’t scared of him for he knew he couldn’t die and he was curious to see if this mountain of a man could take him but instead of fighting he chose to run and it was becoming painfully clear to him that the reason he ran was for Lucas Lance, to keep him safe.
Whether he liked it or not no matter how big a betrayal he believed it to be he had found himself well and truly growing fond of Lucas to the point where he didn’t even want to kill his sister Sara, fearing whatever was growing between them would quickly be destroyed if he did what was needed to get revenge for his fallen sister Freya Mikaelson.
“Please do go ahead and tell me why we are providing a safe haven for the brother of the woman who murdered our sister?” Elijah asked as he handed Klaus a glass of whisky in the dining area of the compound while keeping a glass for himself before sitting down at the table, sitting next to his younger brother. “I’m all for discovering more about them to feed our own curiosities but the plan is still very much to kill them all, not protect them for those who want to kill them.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m some kind of child you need to put in line if anyone knows anything about how to handle their enemies Elijah then it is me!” Klaus snapped at Elijah before taking a drink. “When Lucas Lance dies it will be at my hands and my hands only, I’m simply preserving him for a later kill.”
“Yeah you see I don’t believe that for a second Niklaus in face I think you saw a look of fear in his eyes and you’re attached to his first sign of weakness if anything you’re growing fond of him.” Elijah argued with his brother, knowing Klaus better than Klaus would like to admit. “I say we meet with this Bane man and give him exactly what he wants that way we can focus on the other two canaries who are frankly a lot more predictable and easier to deal with.”
“It was Sara Lance who killed our sister not Lucas!” Klaus shouted as he slammed his glass down on the table and stood up. “If our vengeance should be focused on anyone it should be her!”
“Exactly! That’s why we get rid of Lucas now while an opportunity has risen then use Laurel as our lab rat and seek vengeance on Sara.” Elijah snapped at his younger brother as he stood up to face him. “None of them are innocent over what happened to Freya and we will make them all pay for that.”
“Of course, I know that Elijah!” Klaus replied, as he rolled his eyes in frustration over his brother and the predicament, he had found himself in.
“It’s not as black and white as that though Elijah none of this is!” Hayley argued after vamp speeding into the room, shocking Elijah in the process, as this was the first time the former lovers had seen each other in almost a decade. “Laurel is a good person and the only reason any of you were reunited she doesn’t deserve to be somebody’s test rat just because of her sister and as for Lucas he’s probably spilled as much blood as the rest of us and you don’t see any of us turning on the other over it.”
“Freya is dead Hayley and she’s dead because of his family.” Elijah replied to Hayley, clearly uncomfortable with arguing with the woman he loved.
“Actually we’re as much to blame as everyone for Freya’s death for we jumped straight into this stupid war just like Lucas did and as for Sara although I despite her with every bone in my body for what she did to Freya she was only trying to protect a sibling something which have driven you to do some terrible things yourself.” Hayley continued to argue with Elijah much to Klaus’ amusement, Klaus didn’t fully agree nor disagree with Hayley’s words. “I think if we’re wise here, we should start trying to repair our former alliances with them instead of going to war.”
“Okay I didn’t quite say end the war I was more thinking of postponing it for now.” Klaus butted in before Lucas sped into the room.
“I’m always down for a new partnership especially if it keeps me alive.” Lucas stated with a sinister smirk that made everyone feel uncomfortable about the idea of ever trusting him. “I promise not to try screw use over like Bane of course that promise is purely based on getting rid of Bane.”
“Not a chance in hell!” Elijah snapped at the Red Canary.
“Hey dude I’m the guy who brought you back into the fold show some more appreciation.” Lucas replied before throwing his arm around Hayley, turning his attention to the female hybrid. “Clearly you’re the brains of this operation.”
“Maybe we should just kill you right here and now.” Klaus suggested, clearly as unamused by Lucas in that moment as Elijah.
“Yeah now you could do that Klaus, but I doubt you would.” Lucas replied before removing his arm from around Hayley’s shoulders and walking over to the original hybrid. “I mean after all you’re fond of me right now, but I can promise you’ll be even fonder in the future.”
Lucas Lance’s arrogance annoyed them all deeply especially Klaus which was rather ironic considering he was often considered arrogant himself but with his arrogance he was convinced he had earned the right to be.
However, despite how much Lucas’ arrogance annoyed Klaus he was somewhat happy to see him back in the fighting spirit which infuriated him at the same time as he started to realize just how fond he was growing towards him so much so that he found himself agreeing to an alliance with Lucas and his sisters as they prepared to go up against Bane.
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jmgiovine · 5 years
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I am Jack’s Review
SPOILER-review FOR THE FILM FIGHT CLUB (1999)
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                                                                                      by: J.M. Giovine
There is beauty underneath the chaotic mayhem fest that David Fincher’s infamous 1999 adaptation of Chuck Palahniuk’s equally infamous book from 1996. At this point in his career, Fincher managed to achieve a well-deserved recognition towards his name, thanks to his immortally disturbing noir-90s jewel Se7en (1995) and The Game (1997) starring Michael Douglass in one of his highly acknowledged main roles. But what about a film that, on first screenings, was bashed out of the general positive opinions from audiences and critics that were baffled as well as disturbed by the amount of self-awareness and lighthearted take on extreme and visceral violence? Why did it manage to become one of this era pieces of reference and fascination? I admit, I never saw this until summer 2011 after a massive Blockbuster rent, taking advantage of a special Thursday’s sale I already became familiar with. By that time, I started an already educational process of watching classic films, as well as considerably well-reviewed flicks from the last 30 years, and of course, Fight Club resided on those lists. 
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Of course, I never imagined my shock, excitement and, of course, surprise, at that specific watch. What did I have in my humble-still-neophyte hands? Several key-moments inside the 2 hours 19 minutes feature served as grappling hooks, but it was the final shot on the film... the finale presenting the Narrator and Marla, together, in a panoramic-perfectly symmetric frame bathed in dark-blue color pallets, with the crescendo guitar and lyrics of Pixies that made me realize... I just saw, officially, my new and definitive favorite movie, of all times. 
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How I dared to pick a partially recent film (back in the day) as my epitome of filmmaking? The cornerstone of my affection for storytelling, the birth of the true nest of visuals, the reaching-point of directing and, well points given, the professorship of how to act a damn movie, for all that matters. Edward Norton is a downright perfect personification of the defeated conformist, who is subdued to the pleasures of an empty-consumer’s life in order to fulfill and existential vacuum, from a life that desperately wishes for more... a true revelation. Is funny how the film’s title customizes the story true intentions; a character micro-study throughout the elements in his life that’ll lead him onto an existential-madness, and the odyssey in his path to self-freedom.  
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Because there’s much more in Fight Club than just, well, fights. There’s also, more than a message hidden in every single dialogue provided by Narrator, evolving until eventually turning into a constant emotional reminder of self-emotional dilemmas in every ‘Jack’s Something’, and considering the plenty of theories and interpretations about this particular script-element (Jack as another pseudonym of God is perhaps the most accurate and personal favorite), every character in the film serves a purpose, rather than being there. Example of this is, perhaps, the most important character in the whole film, and no, I’m not talking about Pitt’s sanctified Tyler Durden, no, I’m talking about Helena Bonham Carter’s Marla Singer. 
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But why is she so important? Well, there’s the notorious plot-aspect that she basically quick-started Narrator into becoming (fully) Tyler. Noticed the several flashes in between frames of Tyler manifesting constantly in between important scenarios that are defining the Narrator’s demise and condition around his insomnia, and we’re understanding (after reaching the film’s memorable twist) that Tyler wasn’t fully presented as another character until Marla started “ruining everything”, as Narrator well stated the first time we’re introduced to her. It’s funny because people often believe ‘insomnia’ was what triggered Narrator’s alter ego, leading up to the real plot of the film, but this is part of what the magic behind Fight Club resides. Jim Uhls mastered the structure in which the film would be build, offering the essential elements and aspects from the novel, but adapted in benefit of movie format, also, to please Fincher’s aesthetics and development between characters. While Palahniuk’s take on his story is essentially similar to what Fincher accomplished in the film, the differences are notorious, one could even argue “more than needed”, in order to reach the final product we all enjoy and love, but here’s  the thing; adaptations shouldn’t be about maintain a copy-paste-like attachment to the original source material... which is considerably impossible for movie purposes. No. It’s all about transition. What works in the novel. What works in the potential script. What to leave just the way it is narrated, what to improve, or modify, or (apparent writers taboo) to ‘change’. 
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But what about the film’s true ‘meaning’? Is not so complicated once digested, but it never hurts to explore it deeply. If you ever grabbed a single Nietzsche, Schopenhauer or Camus book, you’ll understand (in a way) what you’re getting into. Like mentioned above, an existential-madness, and the odyssey in his path to self-freedom. All in all, this could be the accurate take on the film’s story. Fincher is a master at exposing a story gradually until, eventually, the truth comes up, grabbing our backs not with fingernails, but claws. I’m still mesmerized, 8 years after seen this for the first time, how quotable the film is, considering Palahniuk’s book does have a similar quality, but never onto this degree; Uhls managed not just to comprehend the novel’s traits, but he basically embraced them and made them his own, worthy of Fincher’s direction. Every line in his script is memorable, every dialogue and conversation can be quotable and acknowledged, perhaps with not definite importance to advance the story, but these scenes feels as important as if they were heavily essential plot-points in order to reach the bigger heights. 
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And, then, we have the lungs of the film; the true engine that makes this work above what it already was. Tyler Durden, performed by a ridiculously shaped Brad Pitt from the 90s. Tyler is the antithesis of what the Narrator represents. If we have to give Jack an identity, it’ll be Tyler, although the best representation of the reference is God, we’re talking about the complete opposite of God. As Tyler states: “ Fuck damnation, man! Fuck redemption! We are God's unwanted children? So be it! “, declaring war to the conception mankind has about God. Interpreting the shit out of it, maybe Tyler is the definitive XXth Century representation of Lucifer, but more in the way Milton conceived him; as a tragic-yet-freedom figure. Tyler frees Narrator by turning him into what He is, in all expressions of the word. Pitt really has a blast of a time interpreting the film’s anti-hero, and it is HIS performance what engages us into loving the film. We want to be Tyler, we need to become HIM, we need to follow his ideals, as radical as they grow, and we’re okay with it, because deep down inside, we know he’s right, we know he’s the TRUTH. As he declares once he’s revealed as the Narrator’s alter ego: “ All the ways you wish you could be, that's me. I look like you wanna look, I fuck like you wanna fuck, I am smart, capable, and most importantly, I am free in all the ways that you are not. “ We know that’s the assumption we’ll adopt if we were on the same situation, and perhaps unintentionally or purposely, but the film taught us this eventually will happen if we continue this meaningless path of self-improvement. In my book, that kind of character is a complete achievement.
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If we come to compare the movie with the book, the difference its quite clear, although, like I aforementioned, a movie adaptation of anything should never be a direct attempt of a copy, that’s useless, pointless and downright impossible; while we can manage to preserve elements from the source material, there has to be changed made in order to accommodate formats and the media used, in this case, the novel-structure, narrative and progression will never mix with the whole production of a full-length feature film, even with movies 3 hours long such as, let’s say, The Lord of the Rings Extended Editions, there were still changes made and story elements that were left out. In the case of Fincher, he’s the perfect example of someone meant to preserve only the useful and adequate book-elements in each one of his films, since most of them have been film adaptations of books. Notice his structure and neat direction in films such as The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008) a short-novel originally written by F. Scott Fitzgerald, or The Social Network (2010), a book simply conceived as the chronicle of the birth of the most famous and relevant social media in the world. Notice the tendency of Fincher to own those properties, such as he did with the novel Gone Girl adapted in 2014 from author Gillian Flynn. Fincher has the ability to understand his source material, embrace the spirit within, and provide his own unique vision and talented direction to offer a new identity. Again, Fight Club is no exception, hell, it probably was the first time it happened inside Fincher’s filmography. 
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However, and in spite of the film’s iconic title as modern-classic (this due to the DVD’s mouth to mouth spread), we should never remove the merits from the actual novel. Palahniuk’s prose and style are unique, and so are his stories, specially his magnum opus-debut from 96′, and while the film manages to truly be its own thing, the novel pretty much deserves the fame it has gathered throughout the years, specially since the third part in comic-book mini-series format is about to arrive. For the fans of the film, I highly recommend the novel and its sequel. For the really hardcore Tyler-space monkeys-fans, such as myself, I strongly recommend checking out the rest of Palahniuk’s work. Back in the day that was my personal Tyler-homework, and thanks to my devotion for this film I managed to know one of my favorite writers, along the complete filmography of Fincher. Yeah, it pretty much deviates from Tyler’s philosophy against possessions and material attachments (since I own the books and films), but hey! If it weren’t for the media, I wouldn’t have met this story.
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I think, in the end, I could finish praising the film even more. There’s not much of a point in doing so, since almost everyone who had claim to be a film-goer have seen it. The best part of this movie is the pre-judgement; when you pop the disc into the console and start the ride without actually being aware of the twist and the general story line following the second and third act. Whether it is for its dark-comedic direction, the near-perfect script-adaptation value, the hilariously magnetic and hypnotizing performances by every single member of the cast, or its composition, it’s perfect editing, the mesmerizing color pallet, stylish soundtrack, beautiful camerawork... Fight Club is a mix, a mix between chaos, battery acid, adrenaline, blood and dirt inside a smart and fun container. It’s almost impossible not to fell for it, just as our Narrator and pretty much the entire fucking world fell for our Tyler’s ideals of destruction and self-liberation. In the end, we are all Tyler’s Space Monkeys, and we are Jack’s trapped audience members...
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cami-chats · 5 years
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A Cliche In Love
Title: A Cliche In Love
Link: AO3
Square Filled: Clothing: Corsetry 
Ship: Tony Stark/Natasha Romanoff
Rating: Mature
Major Tags: None
Summary: “Natasha is a prostitute, and Tony mistakenly thinks that she doesn't really like him.”
Word Count: 1745
Created for @mcukinkbingo
Full text also below
It was such a cliche to fall in love with a lady that worked at a whorehouse. That didn't stop Tony from doing it anyways. It had been normal enough at first. He'd looked at the various ladies selling their time and chosen the one that caught his eye. He offered her the cash, and she took it with a smile, telling him that her name was Natasha as he kissed her knuckles. She'd been good, and it was enough to bring Tony back the next night looking for her. He visited for the rest of the time that he was in town, but then it came time to go back to Manhattan. He wanted to tell her goodbye, but at that point it had been more like a crush than being in love.
The next time he was in Malibu, he stuck his head in to see if she was around. She was, so he visited her every night for that visit as well. The time after that was when it really got him. It wasn't a week-long business trip, it was moving into his beachfront summer home while he oversaw the opening of the newest factory. He spaced out his visits that time in an effort to not grow too attached, but it didn't work. It was still too much like a routine of coming home to his girl.
Natasha was... gorgeous. And she made Tony believe that she was happy to see him every time he showed up. He knew, intellectually, that she was faking it for the money, but he couldn't see it with his eyes and that made it impossible to convince himself that she didn't mean it. When he left for New York after that, it felt like he'd left a piece of himself behind. He tried to sketch her, but his technical drawing skills did not transfer to people.
He tried to draw her hair, her eyes, her hand, and her leg, but all of them looked wrong and he threw them into the fire angrily. Frowning at nothing, he didn't notice what his hand was drawing until it was half finished. It was his favorite corset that she wore, a red and black masterpiece that, in Tony's opinion, made her look more cute than sexy, but maybe that was the smile on her face. He loved every single time he got to take that corset off, unlacing the front and opening her up like she was the world's greatest gift. He hadn't done it yet, but he did want to spend a night with her when they didn't take it off at all. He left the drawing as it was, knowing that if he tried to complete it now that he was thinking too hard about it, he would butcher it entirely. He closed his sketchbook and set it aside and got to his feet, wondering at what point he became so pathetic that he saw fondness where there was just money. He didn't blame Natasha for it in the slightest-- she was just doing her job, after all-- but he should have known better than to grow that attached.
He didn't know what he was going to do about it, especially when Pepper told him that they were moving the base of Stark operations to Malibu now. He figured that he would try to stay away, but that didn't even last two days after they arrived.
He sat down at the bar when he didn't immediately see her, telling himself that if he didn't see her in the next twenty minutes he'd leave. Unfortunately, after he made that decision, she showed up forty seconds later. She grinned when she saw him, sliding into the seat next to him. "Hey Tony. Word around town is that you're moving here permanently. Any truth in that?"
"True enough," he said with an incline of his head. "Foreseeable future, not sure I'd say permanent."
Her smile faded when she saw how completely unenthused he looked. "I thought you liked the Malibu weather. Or were the complaints about snow just for show? Not that I'd blame you, I miss Russian weather sometimes. I was disappointed when you didn't show up yesterday when you came to town. Had to wear the same corset two nights in a row hoping you'd show up." It's true that she was wearing her favored black and red one, but Tony doubted that it was especially for him. God he really needed to snap himself out of this.
"How many offers of exclusivity have you had?" Tony asked out of the blue as far as Natasha was concerned.
Natasha blinked. "What?"
Tony shrugged, shoulders tight as he poorly pretended that he didn't care. "How many people have offered to take you home with them?"
"Not as many as you're imagining."
"What makes you think I'm imagining anything?"
She raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have asked if you weren't thinking about it."
"There's a leap between thinking about it and what you're implying," Tony said, because like hell was he going to up and admit it, even if Natasha clearly already knew. Not to mention that this was hardly the most incriminating thing he'd said to her.
"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying-- to your face, Tony-- that you should come out and say to me whatever it is you want to say."
Tony didn't react well when cornered, which was probably why he decided to shoot their relationship in the metaphorical face with a shotgun. "Fine, I'm saying that you don't have to make conversation because that's not what I'm paying you for." Since he was also a coward, he all-but shoved her off his lap and left the building. He stormed home, slammed the door behind him, and immediately wanted to drink himself into a stupor. What the fuck. What the actual fuck had he been thinking? Natasha didn't deserve to be treated like shit, especially since she hadn't done anything and got caught in Tony's own fucked up emotions.
He jumped when someone knocked on the door, turning to open it before he even knew what he was doing. Of course then he was face to face with Natasha, who-- surprisingly-- didn't look like she was there to punch him in the nose.
She had her hands on her hips, her skin glowing in the light of the setting sun. She looked formidable, though someone else may not have thought so, with her corset and the ruffled skirt and her hair pinned back in an artfully messy style so that strands of her red hair were brushing the side of her face. While she didn't look like she was about to punch him, she did look serious and, in a word, unhappy. "You don't get to insult me and then run off."
Tony winced, running a hand through his hair in shame. "Right. I'm sorry, I never should have said that. You don't deserve it, and--"
"You're damn right you shouldn't have said that. Do you think I give a shit about any of my other clients?" Natasha said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Do you think I pay attention to what clothes they like on me and wear them when I think they're going to show up? Because I don't. I don't care about them. They can go rot." Tony blinked. "The only person I care about is you. Well, and my friend Clint, but I haven't seen him since I moved to Malibu so he doesn't count," she added with a roll of her eyes. "Any time I hinted to you that I wanted something other than a client/companion relationship, you brushed it off. Then you show up and ask me if I'm interested in being with you, and then you run off before I can really give you an answer."
"I... think I'm an idiot."
"Well I could have told you that a year ago. The question, Tony, is what are you planning on doing about it now?"
Tony fumbled. "Uh, taking you on a date? When you're free?"
Natasha continued to glare at him.
"Or... now?" he guessed.
"You're not good at this," she stated.
"I thought you just said that you wanted a real relationship. I'm... okay I'm completely confused. Why don't you tell me what you want me to do? That way I can't fuck it up. Or you could do it yourself, I wouldn't mind."
"Well if you insist." She put a hand on the center of his chest and pushed, making him back up until there was enough space for her to step inside. She stopped pushing as she kicked the door closed, and moved so her arm was resting on top of his shoulder. "If you weren't so sweet Tony, I would question my own sanity right now." She stepped into him and kissed him, threading her fingers through his hair. It was something they'd done a dozen times, but it felt different. Maybe it was the conversation they'd just had, but more likely it was the fact that they were in Tony's home instead of at the inn in one of the temporary rooms. She dragged Tony's bottom lip through her bottom teeth as she pulled away, then immediately went back in to nip at it against because really lips that full deserved to be bit. She looked past him and saw a chair that was... the perfect size. She nodded at it. "Sit over there."
Tony figured that even if she did tell someone how quickly he listened, they wouldn't believe her. Not that he was ashamed, but when people thought they had something on him they never shut the fuck up. He wasn't thinking about any of that at the moment though, because he sat down and saw Natasha stalking towards him.
She pulled up her skirt in two bunches for her hands so that she could climb onto his lap without the fabric getting in her way.
Tony gulped as his hands automatically went to her hips.
"We're not in public anymore," she said, an amused smile playing on her lips. She grabbed his hands and put them on her ass, rocking into his touch.
"Right." He swallowed again. "Right. Just uh, getting used to this." His eyes were drawn to that perfect, gorgeous corset on her, and he licked his lips. "Will you leave this on?"
Natasha grinned. "Absolutely."
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taz-writes · 6 years
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25 Writing Questions
@whycanthisnotbeeasier tagged me in this pretty massive tag game, which is pretty cool! Thanks for the attention! Here goes nothing... 
1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?
A few of them, for a few reasons! The most obvious is Book 3 in my Feilan series, under the working title Storm and Shadow (it’s edgy I know). Reason being, it just got too damn messy. The end of book 3 is the low point of the whole series in every available subplot--so many things go wrong, a few MASSIVE things happen that are game-changers for book 4, and it’s hands down the most difficult scene I’m going to have to write for this series. When it came down to it, I couldn’t do that. The real end of the story at book 4 wasn’t that clear to me either, which is a major problem. So what I’m doing now is working backwards, a little bit. I’ll return to the Purple Sands once and for all after I’ve tackled book 4 and I know where I’m actually going with this. 
Also, I’ve been delaying work on a few other baby WIPs because they’re just not developed enough to see the light of day yet. But that’s pretty minor. 
2. What work of yours, if any, are you embarrassed about existing?
Uhhhhhh... literally the entirety of the original drafts of books 1 and 2. They’re beautifully-written bullshit. Also there’s some really bad Homestuck fanfiction from six years ago still floating around the Internet somewhere under an old pseudonym of mine. I like to pretend it doesn’t exist. 
3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favorite scenes first? Something else?
I like to write front-to-back, which in my case is the same as chronological. I’m a bit of a pants-er, and my outlines often don’t make any sense once I’m actually a few chapters in and I realize that the planned plot point coming next is painfully out of character (or just impossible in general). I tend to use the exciting parts as motivators to get me through when I get writer’s block. 
4. Favorite character you’ve written?
Violet. Hands down, indubitably, Violet Ravenhart. She’s probably the best fictional character I’ve ever created--she has so many layers to her, and she’s so nuanced, and genuine and close to my heart in ways I never expected. I think I’ve done a really great job creating her, and I only hope I can write her as well as she deserves. 
5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing?
Kyrina, I think... she was originally supposed to be something COMPLETELY different than what she’s become. All of my villains used to be really two-dimensional and flat, but Ky’s come the furthest away from there. She used to be an Azula expy? Now she’s just a dumbass. 
6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late / complicated to change now
Part of me wants to say that I’m proud of everything I’ve made, and I do plan to stick to my guns, but there are a lot of aspects of Feilan’s worldbuilding that are incredibly messy. The magic system is the most obvious... if I could go back and change that, and make it significantly less complicated and hard to understand, then I probably would. But the whole thing is built into the structure of the world, and I’m emotionally attached, and besides, it’s unique! It’s definitely got plus sides. 
When it comes to things like that, I’m more likely to retcon or explain the weird thing than erase it altogether. Any dumb trope can work if you write it the right way. 
7. When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?
Oh god, I love telling people about my stories. I talk about Being A Writer all the time! I don’t share my work very often, though. 
8. Favorite genre to write
Fantasy!
9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?
I like to take walks, or just go sit alone in places. I draw my spirit and energy in writing from the natural world... when I feel drained and creatively empty, I go to the creek behind my house, or I take a walk around Schenley if I’m at school. It even helps to just sit outside for a while. Nature inspires me. 
10. Write in silence or with background music? Alone or with others?
Depends on the scene! Always alone, though. Other people tend to distract me. I write with background music most of the time, but if I’m working on poetry or the scene is particularly intense then I turn it off. My writing style, especially in emotional moments, is very reliant on the rhythm of the words. Having music in the background interrupts the natural flow. 
11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?
DIALOGUE. Dear lord, I used to be so bad at dialogue. I’ve also improved at plotting, but that improvement is... nebulous. 
12. Your weaknesses as an author?
I like tropes, and I also like doing weird stuff. I often like both of these too much, resulting in plots that jump from point to point with little clarity. I’m also a consistent retconner, so my characters’ motivations and goals can change with little to no warning. I’m working on that. 
13. Your strengths as an author?
I’ve been told that my prose has a very strong flow to it, especially in descriptive passages. So for all my faults with the construction of my stories, my actual mechanical writing is consistently excellent. And I’m also a fan of my character concepts, even when I don’t write them out as well as they maybe deserve. 
14. Do you make playlists for your work?
Absolutely! I have spotify playlists for most of my stories and all my main characters. I don’t actually listen to those while I’m writing, I prefer listening to video game music, but making playlists for my writing is a lot of fun. 
15. Why did you start writing?
Because I couldn’t find any books that told stories I wanted to read, so I decided I’d make them myself. I wanted to read stories with characters who dressed like me and thought like me and did amazing things without people questioning it all the time. Also, I wanted stories with fairies who weren’t vapid useless girly-girls. 
16. Are there any characters who haunt you?
Most of them, at some point or another. All of my main characters in Feilan are manifestations of some part of me. I wrote Violet to cope with depression in high school, Dusk came directly from how trapped I felt when my parents wouldn’t listen to anything I said, Sayara is the physical manifestation of righteous fury against the world. So their muses lean pretty hard into me when I start running into those problems again. 
17. If you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?
Please use an outline. I know they “cramp your style,” but please, for the love of God, use a freaking outline. And figure out the ending FIRST. 
18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they?
Yes!! Some of those were things I watched more than things I read, but it still counts. I was really into the Redwall books as a kid, and they’re a direct cause of the weird tropiness inherent in my early writing. I think I still favor a lot of cheesy tropes that I learned there--I like to think I write them with more nuance, though. The TV show Avatar was also a MASSIVE influence in how I create stories and characters. I mentioned earlier that Kyrina used to be an Azula expy, but on a larger scale ATLA introduced me to grey morality that works. Zuko’s redemption arc is on a level I strive for to this day. Rick Riordan’s books inspired my character voices, I’ve always liked his humor and his writing showed me that you don’t have to cling so closely to traditional grammar rules to write well. Fullmetal Alchemist was another big influence on my stories’ morality, 
There are probably more, but I don’t remember any right now. 
19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, etc.?
See: Taz’s greatest flaws as a writer. 
Jokes aside, I like to keep one single print paper outline for each story that I’m working on. I’ll write out notes to myself there, create a chapter-by-chapter outline, and edit things in the outline as I go. They’re a great time capsule of all the things I’ve retconned over the course of my series. Recently I’ve also started using Evernote to track things digitally, but I’m still figuring out how it works. 
20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?
Both! Depends on the day. I write when I have the spark and the attention span, and I write for however long it lasts. 
21. What do you think when you read over your older work?
Some of my old work is actually quite good! So I’ll appreciate that for what it is. The parts that are less good I laugh at, and I’ll send excerpts to my friends going “hey look at this ridiculous bullshit I created three years ago isn’t it funny??” 
22. Are there subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?
Yeah. There are a lot of uncomfortable things lurking on the periphery of Feilan that I’m super awkward with. Violet’s trans-ness is the main one that comes to mind, because I want to confirm it in canon but there’s really no way she would ever bring it up of her own volition. Sayara’s too stupid to notice anything and definitely wouldn’t be rude enough to ask about it if she did. There’s also, well, the fa Viandre situation. I’ve avoided going into too much detail about the abuse there, but every situation with Dusk and fa Viandre gives me the willies. I write it because I think it’s important, and it’s a powerful arc, but it’s fucked up. 
More generally? Sex scenes are uncomfortable to write in general for me, I don’t mind reading them but writing them is super awkward. Romance in general can be that way sometimes. I just don’t know how to handle it. 
23. Any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?
I don’t know if there’s anything obscure, necessarily. I think being a musician helped my writing improve, because I’m very sensitive to what Sounds Good, and with poetry especially it’s become more of an instinct than conscious knowledge. 
24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?
I wouldn’t say I’ve ever become an expert on anything in the interest of research, but I’ve become moderately proficient with a few things. I’m in the process of learning everything I can about conlangs so that I can finally give all my made-up words some internal consistency, so that’s cool. I took a couple group fencing lessons. I’m pretty lazy about my research, honestly, and when I don’t already know something I lean towards just making it up from wholecloth. 
25. Copy / paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of.
I knelt by the crack, peering into it, hoping, even as the desperate stillness grew stronger and the silence did not change and time almost seemed to stop.
Cool starlight slid like molten silver through the shimmering gaps in the trees, sinking into the world around me. This cool starlight illuminated everything: the pocks and picks in ancient stone, and the knife-point edges of blades of growing grass, and the dust that had settled upon the little hiding place and the child’s bones it hid. 
-
This is an old excerpt, from my newer draft of book 2. I think I wrote this almost exactly two years ago. I’m rather fond of it, though. This is Feilan’s aesthetic in a nutshell. 
This was an essay at the end, but also a tag game, so... @jade-island-lives @firewritten @thewingwriter @lady-redshield-writes, if yall wanna do this, go for it! No obligation of course. :) Anyone else who sees this and thinks it’s cool, feel free to do it and say I tagged you, too! 
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madboxwithagirl · 7 years
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No Reset
IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ:
After posting this story, it was made public that the lead singer of Brand New, the band that sings the song featured in this fic, committed sex crimes against multiple teenage girls. I no longer support this band or their work. I will not be editing this specific posting of the story, but a new version with a different song will be released in the near future. It will be exactly the same story, just with a new song and title. Thank you for reading.
10th Doctor x Reader
Hello everyone! So before I get to the story, I’d like to give the biggest shoutout to @blueboxshenanigans11 for not only inspiring me to start writing, but for also being my beta reader! Go give her a follow and read her Doctor x Reader stories (they’re really good!)
This is based off of the interlude in the song “Out of Mana” by Brand New. I would highly suggest listening to it!
https://youtu.be/kuta3PDr-4E?t=3m46s
This is my first story on here, so any and all likes, reblogs, follows, and feedback are welcome. I tried to make the reader gender neutral so all can enjoy it! I also avoid using Y/N and other similar things in my writing if I can, so just a fair warning. Enjoy!
Summery: The Doctor learns about your love for him and finds that you’ll always be around, even after your tragic death.
Warnings: Heavy Angst. Blood. Major Character Death. Cursing. Depression.
Words: 3,993
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Humans are mortal creatures, this is very well known. With such short lifespans and so many outside forces that can easily shorten them more, humans are not the most resilient of beings. And yet, they survive years upon years of torment from both mind and body. Some manage to heal from what should have been fatal wounds or diseases. Miracles, they are called.
The Doctor saw a lot in humans. While they may not be the strongest of species, they’re quite mysterious at times, though many are easy to figure out. A glance into their eyes can reveal their entire souls to their viewers. A quick look and he can see their pain, happiness, confusion, and every other feeling under their rather small sun.
Yet somehow, you managed to keep your most intimate of feelings held under lock and key. Now, this rather smart alien knew full and well that you were hiding things from him, but he could never find a way to see into your soul. You were a defensive human, he knew, but he always thought that perhaps he could coax you out of your shell. He wanted to know every little thing about you from your favorite color, to your saddest memory, to your worst fear.
Despite knowing that so much of you was inaccessible, he managed to fall in love with you. He loved yet hated the mystery surrounding you, wanting nothing more than to crack open the locks on your heart and soul and loot every little thing that they held. But he would never dare to try to force open your hidden treasures. He needed you to unlock them on your own terms. Oh, how he tried to get you to show him every part of your mystery. He would pour out his hearts to you, lament to you his sorrows, silently beg you to maybe, just maybe, give him a story of your own past to make him feel less alone and perhaps relate to someone else.
But, alas, you would never allow yourself to open up to him. This impossible man didn’t need to know the struggles of a minuscule human. His life had been full of sorrows and demons that you could never fathom trying to fight. He had lost his entire species, taken by his own hand from a decision that none, not even the most powerful of gods, should ever have to make. What were your demons compared to that? No, you didn’t need him to feel sorry for you.
You sealed up your being, bound it in rope and chains. You locked yourself up nice and tight and let the key fall into your ocean of despair. You knew that this alien-man would be your downfall if you didn’t block off your emotions from him. Now, you would allow yourself to laugh along with him when he made a rather Doctor-like error and you would allow yourself to hold him close as he offered you his broken hearts to mend. You would offer up the best of yourself, the kindness and thoughtfulness that your heart would allow.
But in your struggle to keep your emotions in their prison, one managed to escape your watchful eye: adoration. You somehow had let yourself grow attached to the Time Lord, but not just as an acquaintance or even a best friend, but full blown head-over-heels in love. Night after night you scolded yourself for letting yourself fall for the perfectly flawed being who took you away from your original suffering, only to bring on more by just being so wonderful. You knew that anything intimate between the almost-immortal man would never last, so you never said a word to him.
And so you continued on, keeping a tight grip on your secrets for years, fighting off the rust and the fire from your bounds. But the rope was burning and the rust was poisoning. You were losing an uphill battle and all you wanted was to open yourself up and let everything spill out onto the TARDIS floor so the Doctor could sort through the mess and perhaps find something he liked. You wanted to stop fighting, finally give your treasures up, and maybe retire away somewhere far away from your love so you could relax once again.
The bottled up thoughts started to become too much for you. You had to get something, anything, out in any way possible. You knew you couldn’t tell the Doctor of your sin, no matter how much you desired to do so. You got yourself a journal from the library, happy that it was yet to be stained with the ink of a flowing thought. Starting off slowly, you settled with just a simple sentence in your most wonderful of handwriting.
“I’m in love with the Doctor.”
                                                          ___
It was supposed to be a simple trip to your hometown.
It was supposed to be a quick visit, that was all.
It wasn’t supposed to have any deadly aliens looking for the Doctor.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Humans are mortal creatures, he knew. Of course he knew that. But he wasn’t prepared to face that reality again so soon. And he certainly wasn’t prepared to face that reality with you.
His clothing was stained with your life force from head to toe. Not a single article was left untouched, all of it drenched in the blood of his beloved. The Doctor had held you in your final moments, hysterical and oh so terrified. He knew that you were dying, that there was nothing that he could do to fix you. There was so much blood, from each deep wound to what was pouring out of your mouth. It was so much more than he really realized that a human could hold. Not knowing what to say, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. He confessed his sin to you, kissing your forehead roughly, feeling your cooling body.
And as you began to fade away, you let your rope and chains go slack. You let him see into your soul. You stared up at him, taking in every little detail for what you knew would be the final time while he stared deeply into your glossy eyes. He let out a sob as he saw the pure fear in your eyes, something that he had never been granted to see before. You wished that you could tell him that you loved him too, that you wished you had told him sooner, that you had told him everything, but you couldn’t. You were too weak and the blood pooling from your mouth wouldn’t have allowed you to anyway. As the Doctor began to repeat his confession, you slipped into your everlasting sleep. The last thing you saw were his gorgeous but incredibly sad, brown eyes. You let your own orbs close and you let yourself slip away.
Everything the Doctor did after that was a blur. He remembered finishing off your killers and he remembered taking your body to your family. He didn’t remember ever making it back to the TARDIS, or the machine’s broken whirls upon realizing that you were gone. He didn’t know how long he was curled up on the ship’s floor, begging whatever god that was out there to bring you back to him. He couldn’t remember when he had last eaten or had a sip of water. All he knew was that you were gone forever and that he’d never get to see you again.
Eventually, the broken man rose from his spot on the cold, metal flooring and he stumbled his way through the TARDIS. He needed to shower. He needed to get your blood off of his body. He needed to get rid of the smell of your death. A door appeared at the end of the hallway and he made his way into the shower that his ship had kindly found for him. He stripped of everything and stepped into the shower, turning the hot water on. His skin became red from the scalding water, but he didn’t notice. All he could register was that your blood was all over his body. It had soaked through to his skin, staining him. And so he scrubbed and he scrubbed and he scrubbed but your blood wouldn’t come off. He cried out and scrubbed harder and harder until his own blood found its way to the surface. At this, he quit his attempts and leaned back against the shower wall, defeated. Your blood would never leave his hands.
The TARDIS had taken the bloody clothing and disposed of them before the Doctor finally got out of the shower. She had replaced them with soft and clean sleepwear, for which the Time Lord was grateful. He slowly donned them and left the bathroom, nearly sobbing when he saw where he was. The TARDIS had lead him to your room. Your room was decorated from items found in the ship and gifts that the Doctor had given you on various trips. It was clean and organized, all of your valuables on display throughout the space.
And it still smelled like you.
The Doctor made his way to your bed and wrapped himself up in your blankets, wanting to take in your scent once more. It was such a lovely change from the blood that he had known for who knows how long. He held one of your pillows close to him, imagining that it was you. He used to love to cuddle with you whenever he was feeling particularly down. You would hold onto him tightly and hum your favorite songs, doing what you could to sooth him. How he wished that he could hear you hum into his ear one final time.
He eventually fell into a restless sleep, seeing images of you being attacked and hurt by the aliens over and over again. He never able to stop your death. He awoke a few hours later covered in sweat, fresh tears falling onto the pillow. He buried his face into the pillow and cried, letting all his emotions out. He needed you more than ever. How was he going to live without you? You were his most valuable treasure and you had been stolen from him.
The Doctor soon sat up and looked around your room, wanting to soak up everything he could about you. Even though you were long gone, he hoped that maybe he could learn more about you from your possessions, maybe finding out more about your values from them. He hoped that it might sooth him, even if only for a moment. Taking a deep and shaky breath, he untangled himself from the blankets and got up, immediately missing the strong scent from the fabrics.
To the Doctor’s dismay, nothing immediately seemed to be gained from any of your items. All that was there were miscellaneous TARDIS items, the many gifts he had given you, and some pretty little souvenirs from tourist traps in foreign places (though you never seemed to care, they were all new and different to you). However, upon further inspection, he saw that his presents were the most cared for and that they were the most proudly displayed. Each item was placed methodically, in places that you would be around most. They were on your dresser, your desk, your nightstand. Each was covered in far less dust than the souvenirs (how long had it really been since you passed?) and they all looked brand new.
His tired eyes locked onto one particular item on your desk. He picked up an old and worn journal that he recognized as a gift to him from a journey long passed. A bit confused as to why it was in your room, he slowly opened it, not entirely sure what to expect. As he read the first line of your familiar handwriting, he gasped and cried out.
“I’m in love with the Doctor.”
His entire form began to shake and fresh tears ran from his eyes. You loved him. You had committed the same sin as he had and fallen in love with a creature that you shouldn’t have. He sat himself back down onto the bed and tried to steady his breathing, overjoyed that you had felt the same but devastated that it was never meant to be. God, he knew that he shouldn’t read more, for it was your own personal thoughts that had bled onto the pages, but he simply couldn’t contain himself. Taking a few deep breaths and wiping his eyes, he continued to read your secret thoughts.
The book was filled with memories from your past that you had been too scared to reveal to him. His hearts cracked at everything you had had to suffer through throughout the years prior to arriving on the TARDIS. Why hadn’t you told him? Why did he have to find out through a journal after your life had been snatched from you? The Time Lord soon left behind the writings of your past life and found himself reading of life on the ship and your new form of suffering.
“Damn the Doctor. Why did he have to find me? Why did I have to find him? Why couldn’t we have just not met? I would have continued to live my boring old life, yeah, but I wouldn’t have been doomed to be in love with an impossible man with an impossible machine doing impossible things. I could just be working in a cubical or sitting at a front desk and greeting people each day. Nothing glamorous, but normal. No gorgeous alien to distract me each day and make me want to commit some weird inter-planet bestiality acts.
I don’t understand how I let myself fall in love with this man, but I did, and I regret it each and every moment of my life. I never wanted to open up to anyone ever again, but this stupid man comes in and tries to get me to spill my guts to him. And I really fucking want to. But my past and my problems are nothing compared to his. He’s suffered more than any human has. He’s the last of his kind, doomed to travel the universe alone. Every now and again, a new person shows up and spends a little time with him, but they all leave in the end, he’s said. How does he go day after day knowing this? Knowing that he’s going to live for centuries more and lose everyone that he befriends? He is a strong man, the strongest I’ve ever met.
He told me of Rose, the last person to posses his hearts, and everything that had happened. As he cried and revealed the terrible events, I couldn’t help but feel jealous. It was selfish of me, really, but I wished that he would feel the same level of attachment to me. I could never tell him that, of course. I heard of Martha. He doesn’t need to know that another human is in love with him.
It’s a terrible fate to be in love with the Doctor it seems. I hate that I’m doomed to suffer the same fate. I thought that leaving that old life behind would help me forget, or at least feel more okay with, the pain that everything had caused. What I didn’t expect was to find a new pain with the madman. Maybe one day I’ll tell him so I can stop hiding from it. It’s unlikely, though.”
The Doctor let out a bitter laugh, agreeing with your words. Loving him was a terrible fate, a curse even. Anyone who loves him finds nothing but suffering and, in turn, hurts him. He grit his teeth and let out a crying howl, angry with himself for being so selfish. You thought yourself as selfish for wanting his love, but there was no shame in that. No, he was the selfish one for taking so many away with him and causing them pain, whether he meant to or not. Every companion gets hurt in some way and it was all his fault. He brought pain to so many simply because he didn’t want to be lonely. He deserved to be alone. He wasn’t some savior or messiah, but a monster, a beast that brought destruction everywhere he went.
But yet, you had felt sorry for him. You put his problems over yours, caring for him and loving him even after finding out what he had done to Gallifrey. You comforted him, made him feel as if he was important. You made him feel like he deserved to be happy. But that was who you were. You saw who he was when you were traveling, when you encountered a foe or someone who needed help. You saw how he tried to fix everything, even if it wasn’t possible or if he would get hurt in the process. He was a selfless man, and hearing of his atrocities didn’t change your mind on that. You had risked your life for him time and time again, knowing that he deserved to live and eventually find happiness more than anyone else. You loved him.
The more he read, the more sorrowful he became, but he simply couldn’t stop. He needed to know everything about you. He had longed to know what you had kept hidden away from him, but he had wanted you to tell him on your own accord, finally venting to him each and every little detail about your life. He wanted to hold you and comfort you like you had for him. He wanted you to feel loved and protected. But fate would never allow him that. Instead, he was here in your abandoned room, invading your privacy. He truly was a selfish man.
Soon, he reached the final entries. Knowing that this would be the last of you that he would ever take in, he read through slowly.
“We’re going to visit my hometown today. So many terrible memories have been made there, but I wanted to visit the old place where I used to hide away when things were bad. Maybe that will help me clear my mind a bit. But then again, maybe I’m getting too hopeful. After all, that was where I found the TARDIS. I will never forget seeing that wonderful, blue box, meeting the strange man with the wild hair and overabundance of clothing (seriously, who needs that much outerwear?), and wondering who the hell he was. I never imagined that my life was going to change so suddenly and so dramatically.
The Doctor has truly been kind to me in the time that I’ve been here. He’s always willing to take me anywhere I want to go, excited to see the places I find the most fascinating. I know it’s really him trying to figure out more about me since I won’t open up to him, and I commend him for being creative in his ways. He’s a brilliant man, but not even he can see into my soul. But I want to tell him. It’s starting to become too much for me to bare. I want to finally get everything off my chest and expose my thoughts and feelings to him. I can’t handle it anymore. I have to tell him.
When we get to my special place, the place where we met, I will tell him it all. If it goes badly, which it most likely will, I will be able to stay there on Earth. No need to go back into the TARDIS and say my goodbyes. I can simply walk away and try to continue at home on Earth. But if by some miracle he feels the same and wants me to continue traveling with him, I will continue to do so. I can only hope for the best.”
“It’s been a few hours since the last entry and we haven’t left yet. The Doctor isn’t in the console room and I can’t find him anywhere. I assume that he’s in a room that I can’t find or he’s stepped out for a bit. I took that time alone to examine the console of the TARDIS. This box is truly an impossible machine. She’s a living being and has her own thoughts and emotions. She’s been just as kind as the Doctor, taking me to places that even I didn’t know that I wanted to go to. She seems to see more into my soul than the Doctor. I’ll bet anything that she can read minds.
Haha, as soon as I wrote that, she started to play a song that’s been stuck in my head. I suppose that proves my suspicions. I only hope that she doesn’t tell the Doctor any of my secrets. Though, if it’s been this long already with nothing coming out, I guess I’m safe. I’m hopeful that I won’t have to leave this wonderful place that I’ve learned to call my home. I don’t know how I’m going to survive if I go. I always thought that I’d live out the rest of my life here. I don’t want to go.”
“The TARDIS is continuing to play the song, over and over again. Why is she doing this? Does she want me to do something? I’m a bit lost. I think I’m going to investigate some before we head off. This blasted machine may seem to like me, but she sure makes things tough on me at times. It’s well worth it though. And considering how this very well may be the last time here, I should take in all I can. Please, don’t let this be it.”
The Doctor suddenly heard the soft sound of wind chimes throughout the room, but saw no such things. Instead, he saw an image of a lost soul appear faintly in the room. And then he heard a soft, sad voice began to sing to a soft guitar strum.
“I have to go
I want to say I'm in love with you
And I'm more than the skin of my teeth
I digress
I am a mess, I'm in love with you
I will go without water or sleep
I'm a ghost
I can't say I know that I'm even here
Or is this some eternal test
Hold me close
I'll never know if it's more or less
No reset
I love you, Doctor.”
The song ended as you spoke your most well guarded secret, your voice fading away with the declaration that the Doctor had longed to hear you say. The TARDIS must have played your song over and over until you had given in and sang along. Your eyes were closed in the recording as you slowly danced to the somber tune. It looked as if you were unaware that you were being filmed. The machine had done it as if she knew that something was going to go wrong, that you would never return.
Silent tears ran down the Doctor’s face, his eyes never leaving your form. His ship had given you back to him. She had led him to your book of secrets so he could finally solve your mysteries, so he would know that you returned his feelings. She had recorded your being so he would always have a view of you unbroken, alive, and healthy. She taped your voice so that the Doctor would never forget what you had sounded like. But the most wonderful thing that she had done was catch your lost voice saying out loud that you loved him.
With a broken smile, your Doctor closed the journal and held it tightly to his chest. Looking up at your still image, he whispered out his greatest curse one final time.
“I love you too, my Treasure.”
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avengeultrons · 7 years
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Title: Boys Break Hearts (Part 6 Back to the Future(Reader x Peter Parker))
Summary: The reader gets a surprise visit and a shocking confession from Peter, who hasn’t been around in a while.
Word Count: 2212
Warnings: Angst 
A/N: I’ve been working on this all week during my vacation and I hope it’s perfect and you all enjoy it! This series is def my favorite!
PART 7
--
“Did I do something wrong?” you glanced wearily at Natasha across the steaming mugs of coffee and stacks of pancakes dripping in golden maple syrup, two things from breakfast that you hadn't even touched yet.
 She looked over, sympathy for you taking over her expression and making you feel self conscious.
 You hadn’t heard from Peter in so long that you could barely remember what his face looked like. Of course that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it was long enough for Natasha to feel a bit sorry for you. That's why she practically dragged you along to her favorite breakfast spot.
 Natasha took a long drink of coffee, pushing your plate of pancakes towards you with her knife and fork, “You should eat, Y/N. I can't remember the last time you had something other than Frosted Flakes,” she laughed lightly, waiting for you to take a bite of one of the large pancakes before resuming her own meal, watching you cautiously,  “Y/N? You didn't do anything wrong.”
 “Then why hasn't Peter even come by to train? He's usually always over trying to impress Tony or something, I don't-it has to be my doing,” you said, poking at the sugary breakfast cakes in front of you, “I guess I read our relationship wrong. God, I cannot believe I did this.”
 Natasha’a eyes widened and she shook her head profusely at you, “Misread it? No way, Y/N. Peter’s practically head over heels for you. One thing I know about the kid is that he's one Nervous Nelly, he's probably just trying to figure it out. What you need to do is stop wallowing in your own self pity and do something to get your mind off of it,” she smiled a wide smile, spilling some of her tepid coffee on the table when she threw her hands out in exasperation, “Let's go shopping!”
 “Maybe I should try calling him again?” Natasha pouted as she paid for your meals, batting her long eyelashes at you, “Of course that’ll be while we’re drowning our sorrows in new shoes and makeup.”
 You'd have to confront Peter about ghosting you sooner or later, but you knew that some retail therapy might actually be helpful. Shop ‘till you drop, as they say, “That’s the spirit!”
 Natasha was becoming more and more like the best friend and older sister that you never had. You were always a loner back home in 1946, no one wanted to be friends with the girl who was never around thanks to her job with the infamous Howard Stark. Wanda and Natasha both had practically taken you in and made you feel more at home than you felt at your actual home.
  That's how you forgot all about calling Peter; you and Natasha had lost track of time goofing off in small mall shops and fancy boutiques. The two of you made it back to the tower with bags draping off of your forearms, your faces made over with bright lipsticks and glittery eyeshadow that was as blue as the sky.
“There you are, we’ve been waiting for you!” Wanda jumped from her spot in the kitchen, throwing sauce on her apron as you and Natasha stepped in. She was busy making something for dinner, something that filled the room with a deliciously aromatic smell. You beamed at her. It was a moment of bliss, like the couple of seconds you have after you wake up where you don't remember anything, the seconds before reality hits you. Just you, Natasha, and Wanda.
 Natasha quirked up an eyebrow, dropping her bags on the table as you followed suit, “We?” she said the word as if it was taboo, her nose scrunching up as she crossed her arms. Just as she said it, Peter walked in, asking Wanda where the television remote was kept.
 “Oh. H-hey everyone,” he smiled sheepishly, his cheeks flushing pink as his eyes landed on you. You smiled back, looking down at your shoes nervously. You weren’t prepared!
 Wanda rolled her eyes and Natasha giggled, shaking her head at herself, “Well I noticed that we haven't seen Mr. Parker in a while, so I decided to invite him for dinner!”
 “That's true, we haven't seen Mr. Parker in a while. A long while,” you nodded in agreement while Peter mouthed an apology, his face going crimson as you stared at him.
 Natasha popped open a bottle of wine and poured herself and Wanda a glass, “Remote’s on the coffee table. Go find a movie or something!” she smiled and shooed the two of you away, a smug look on her face as her and Wanda high fived in satisfaction.
 “Wanna watch Star Wars?,” you collapsed on the couch and smiled at Peter, almost as if he hadn't been missing in action for weeks.
 He sat tentatively next to you, his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry. I guess I should start by saying that,” he said it in one breath, talking so fast that you weren't even sure that he said anything at all. You smiled and were just about to say that you accepted his apology, but he cut you off.
 “It's just that Mr. Stark told me that it wasn’t very professional Avenger behavior and that it would be best if I stayed away just for a little while-that doesn't matter, whatever. I just want you to know that I'm sorry and that I like you and-and I'm sorry.”
 Your eyes widened when he said “Mr. Stark” and your ears burned red. Had Tony really tried to scare him off? A shaky sigh escaped your lips, “Tony tried to scare you away?” you felt your stomach drop to your feet, why would he want to meddle in your life so much? Peter’s face scrunched up and he shook his head.
 “Well, no. I mean, yes. But-” you jumped to your feet, Peter’s own eyes widening, “Wait, where are you going?”
 The main title song for Star Wars was just beginning, which made the whole event feel even more intense. It was time to be courageous. You were in 2017 for heaven’s sake.
 “You like me?” you kissed Peter, a soft and shy kiss that could've happened in a dream more than in real life, but it was a kiss nonetheless, “Thank you for apologizing, but there's obviously nothing you need to apologize for. I'll be back,” you gave a huff, stomping out of the room while a dreamy eyed Peter staring after you.
 “What's going on?” Wanda perked up as she heard your quick footsteps.
 There was no denying one thing; you were on a mission, “Tony told Peter that liking me wasn't appropriate Avenger behavior. I'm going to find him,” you hardly had time to stop, your anger was carrying you through the tower almost as quickly as Forest Gump himself, “I kissed Peter!” you concluded, practically feeling Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen to the size of tennis balls. Natasha let out a gasp, trying not to choke on the red wine in front of her.
 “I don't know how to feel,” she concluded, staring over at Wanda in disbelief, “What just happened?”
 You found Tony in the lab with Bruce, safety goggles on the both of them. Sparks were flying as they worked on a new invention, “Knock knock,” you said. Bruce smiled over at you and the work was put to a halt, they needed a break anyways. Bruce promised coffee if Tony promised not to go on without him, and he did. He needed the break, “So, Peter’s here,” you said once Bruce left, Tony’s eyes widening.
 “That's great, we haven't seen him in a while. I was thinking of ordering a pizza, want any? I know you like the plain cheese,” he gulped as you crossed your arms, heads of sweat forming on his forehead. He could play it off by saying it was from the hot lights, but you knew he was nervous.
 You shook your head, pressing your lips into a thin line as you tried to form a cohesive sentence in your mind, “He said that you told him to stay away, is that true? Why would you say that to him? You know Peter’s my only friend, like, ever, right?”
 “I didn't mean for him to stay away…Mr. Parker was becoming a little attached to you and I didn't think it would be the best thing for your mission, that's all,” Tony knew he was in the wrong, his face had gone pale and he was avoiding eye contact.
 You threw your hands up, a cold laugh escaping your lips, “So? You don't know what's best for me or my mission, Tony. I could've gone home a while ago, but do you know why I’m still here? It's all of you,” you said quietly.
 “We’re not asking you to stay for us, Y/N,” he said. Those words made your stomach drop to your feet, your fingers go numb. It felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with an icicle, “I was trying to protect your identity and your mission,” his voice cracked as he watched your face fall, your eyes pooling with tears.
 You clenched your fists at your side, a shaky breath escaping your quivering lips. You couldn't cry in front of him, that would just be embarrassing, “Why do you treat me like I'm this baby who's never been out in the real world and needs to be coddled and babysat all of the time? I'm capable of taking care of myself, you know. You're the only one that treats me like a kid all of the time.”
 “You are a kid, Y/N,” he said, a light laugh escaping his lips. Maybe he was hoping that the laugh would ease the tension, but it really didn't. It was like a rubber band pulled so tight that one wrong move would cause it to snap.
 You wiped a tear off of your cheek, looking down at the ground, “A kid who can time travel, Tony! I'm not your daughter and you're not my father! I've been sheltered long enough.”
 “Do you want to know the truth, Y/N? Really? I watch you and Peter all the time. The way you look at him, the way he smiles at you. I told him to take a step back because I don't want to see your heart broken when you go back. I won't be able to-I just want to protect you.”
 You sniffled, watching Tony carefully. He wasn't one to show emotion too often, he always put on a facade of not having any feelings. You could see his shell breaking a little, which made your heart shatter into a million tiny pieces, “My heart won't be broken,” you said defiantly. He rolled his eyes at you, waving you off as if you were some pesky fly at the family barbecue.
 “I know how these things work, Y/N! This isn't Disney, this is real life,” he said.
 His words stung like salt in an open wound, so much so that you turned on your heel to leave, not knowing what to say in response, “Y/N, come back here. I’m sorry, okay? We can order pizza and talk.”
 “You're not my dad,” you spat out, “Life may not be a Disney movie, but it isn't always terrible and cruel for no reason. I've gotta go, Wanda made dinner.”
 Tony sighed, a suffocated sigh that was shaky and rattly. He was trying to shock some reality into you, trying to look out for you, “Y/N, please listen. Life isn't always a bucket of sunshine like you may think it is. You may go on one date and have a great time, but it's going to end and it probably won't end well. Peter’s a wonderful kid- we all love him - but he's still a boy and boys break hearts. Especially hearts of those who are from 1946 and don't necessarily belong.”
 “I'm glad to know I don't belong,” you said quietly, wanting to run away from Tony and the conversation and the tower for a while. Your eyes were blurry with hot tears as you looked up at him. You could practically hear him saying “the truth hurts” but you wanted to pretend that it wasn't true. It couldn't be. It was Peter, and you.
 You turned on your heel swiftly, trying to escape, “Y/N, wait. Please, I’m sorry. That's not what I meant,” Tony let out a defeated sigh as you hurried off, a sob stuck in your throat. He’d definitely messed up, Bruce could see the sad look on his face as soon as he entered the lab.
 “There you are, Y/N! I was just going to have Peter find you. Dinner is ready! Oh-oh dear,” Wanda’s bright smile fell as she saw your face practically covered in tears, “Is everything okay?”
 She wrapped an arm around you and led you to the kitchen, Peter’s eyes widening as he stood abruptly once he saw. Natasha’s mouth fell open as you wiped a tear off of your face quickly, your face red from embarrassment, “Do I really not belong here?”
TAGGED: @fangeekkk, @multifandom-hoellander, @whimsicaldreaming, @im-an-eclectic-mess, @sleepy-rad, @theb-tchyidol, @1022bridgetp, @imaginingadifferentlife,  @spideytrxsh 
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reality-retold · 7 years
Text
; top 15 favorite beast/highlight songs
so, i’ve wanted to do this ever since i watched K!Junkies video of their top 15 favorite Beast/Highlight songs. tbh this is something that i sometimes do, picking my top 10-15 fave songs from each group i like and then compiling them to make a playlist. more often than not, though, i end up getting somewhat frustrated because i can’t make up my mind on which songs i have to include on the list l o l. but it’s good fun, and the list tends to change from time to time, depending on my mood, so yeah.
it really took me awhile to finish this list because, again, it is never an easy feat to have to choose only 15 songs. i mean, come on, beast/highlight have been amazingly consistent with their music and they have LOTS of awesome songs. so i decided to base my choices on my own personal attachment to the songs - whether they hold sentimental meanings to me, and so on. that said, it doesn’t mean that the songs not included here do not have any effect whatsoever on me, no. 
anyways. here goes my list, and it’s in no particular order, i guess?
1. 주먹을 꽉 쥐고 (Clenching A Tight Fist)
As far as i can remember, this was the first Beast song that i listened to. I can’t recall how i ended up listening to this song, though - it was around the time when i wasn’t into them yet and barely knew them, but i remember feeling impressed by their vocals. So yeah, naturally this song owns a special place in my heart for being my first Beast song ever. It’s just my kind of song, because boy am i a sucker for Beast ballad. Once, Doojoon also talked about how special this song was for him and, as shallow and silly as this sounds, it just made me grow fonder of this song :’)
2. 숨 (Breath)
This song is one of my favorite title tracks ever, hands down. Idk, it’s just.... epic? I love everything about it. The fast-paced, sort-of rock-ish, gritty instrumental, Dongwoon’s adlib at the beginning (that he gained after his Dad bribed the producer l m a o), Yangyo’s impressive long notes, the dance, the styling they’re sporting for this era, just.... everything, really. And this may not be a popular opinion, but I personally think that this era marked the beginning of their more... sophisticated sound and style? 
3. Fiction
Ask any B2uty/Light and they’d most likely tell you Fiction was the era (or one of the most significant, at least) for Beast/Highlight. And i just can’t agree more even though I actually joined the fandom just right when the promotion era for the song was ending. I know, what a bad timing, eh? I guess, what i’m trying to say is, I didn’t include Fiction on this list because it was such a massive hit back in the days, but because it’s the song that sealed the deal for me? Really, there’s no turning back for me after listening to their Fiction and Fact album. 
4. You
If I have to describe this song in one word, it’d be Dongwoon. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It is a beautiful song in its own right and all the other members sound so good (Doojoon’s part is still one of my ultimate favorite ever), but for me personally, Dongwoon owns this song. I was snatched from the moment he opens the song with his I’m gonna make you love me line. Yeah, I do love you, all right, so mission accomplished, magnae. l o l.
5. 비가 오는 날엔 (On Rainy Days)
On Rainy Days is one of the songs that I always seek for first whenever they hold a concert or perform in an event. I’m not sure why I love it so. Maybe because imo this song is just such a perfect representation of them? They’ve always been known as a vocally strong group that are especially good with ballad, and this song showcases it all? I’m pretty sure I’ve listened to and watched performances of this song for hundreds or even thousands times already, and yet I just can’t get tired of it, ever.
6. Midnight (별 헤는 밤)
Midnight is probably one of their finest songs to date. And it’s special to me because it’s the pre-release for It’s A Beautiful Night comeback, which was their first comeback after I became a fan. Every time I listen to it, it’s like I can relive the excitement I felt back then, and the feeling is just wonderful. I love the original version, but I also like the acoustic version that they did in some of their concerts.
And Doojoon’s part during the bridge is pure perfection. It still gets me every time, even after years. Ultimate favorite of all his parts in any songs, hands down ;-;
7. 니가 보고 싶어지면 (When I Miss You)
I fell in love with this song from the get go, and I think it’s easy to see why. It’s one of their slower songs and it’s beautiful in a bittersweet kind of way. And it’s also one of the songs that show just how much Dongwoon has improved over the years, as he shares the chorus with Yangyo ;-; He also harmonizes for Yangyo’s parts during the live perf of this song. And then there’s Doojoon part ;-; Anyone should know by now that I have such strong affinity for his voice l o l.
8. Good Luck
While I can’t say I loved everything about this song’s era (I wasn’t digging Dongwoon’s purple hair and Doojoon’s brown hair), but the song itself is so awesome I could overlook everything else. It’s so fierce and packed with energy and just... amazing. And i think the song also served as a reminder that yes, they are actually capable of doing some intense choreo - it’s just that most of the time they choose not to do so l o l
9. 12시 30분
If I had to choose the ultimate favorite of all my favorite songs, this is it. I’m not sure why I feel so emotionally attached to this song. Maybe it’s got to do with the fact that they released this song (and the mini album) as a commemoration of their debut 5th anniversary. Maybe it’s got to do with the fact that this is like everything i ever want of them. The concept is on point, the styling is on point. And the song and the dance are both challenging and yet they manage to make so effortlessly easy, belting out those notes while dancing gracefully. Idk, i just love it bunches ;-;
10. 가까이 (Stay)
As per Can You Feel It concerts, this song screams Doojoon through and through. Seriously, it’s legit the most he has ever sung in one single song! So of course I would have to put this song on the list here. But, to be fair, I’ve loved this song since I heard it the first time back then, though admittedly, yeah, it’s mostly because I thought Doojoon (and Dongwoon) sounds amazing. I can’t help ruing the fact that they never got to perform this song with Hyunseung, but it is what it is.
11. Stay Forever Young
Their one and only Japanese track to make it to the list. While I love their other Japanese songs, I have to say this is my ultimate favorite. I just love the vibe and the feel of it? And how it’s about life and being young, and it’s just like a reminiscent of the kind of song my favorite jpop group would sing, so yeah. 
12. 리본 (Ribbon)
I know not everyone is a fan of this song. Some found it too boring, even. But not me. Granted, it’s not the song that I’d always put on my playlist like every single time. But whenever I do listen to it, it overwhelms me with feels. I suppose it’s because it’s their first title track as 5-member Beast, and also their last as, well, Beast. So in a way, it represents both a new beginning and an end for them.
13. 아름답다 (It’s Still Beautiful)
God, if i ain’t choked with emotion the first time i listened to this song ;A; But could anyone blame me? This song was like solid proof of how these boys survived against all the odds, of how they’re still pretty much in it together, bringing music to their fans once more. I will never not feel things whenever I listen to this song ;-; And don’t even get me started on how beautiful it is, simple as it is. It shows that they don’t need much else because their vocals just shine.
14. 얼굴 찌푸리지 말아요 (Plz Don’t Be Sad)
I don’t think there could be a better, more fitting song for their comeback/re-branding as Highlight than this song. It just hit all the right notes. It’s fun, it appealed to the public, it showed their versatility in music while at the same time conveying their message for their fans: don’t be sad, be happy because we’re back to bless you with more music :’)
15. Sleep Tight
If anyone ever questions why Yangyo is their main vocal (though, seriously, why would anyone?), well, this song will tell you exactly why. He simply slays the song, all right, with his raspy voice that is so fitting for such a rock-ish kind of song. And it also proves, yet again, how their music is so versatile, that they can tackle almost everything: heartbreaking ballad, uptempo fun, rock, you name it,
Honorable mentions: Shadow (그림자), 그곳에서 (At That Place), Easy, I’m Sorry (2013 version), Butterfly.
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