#✶ — ┊❛ we could steal time just for one day ❜┊❮ self promo ❯

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Into the Unknown With You”

Another one shot from my assorted collection “Of Swans and Swords and Hopeful Hearts” - this one playing with some of the ideas I would rather have seen in 6x10 and 6x11, it certainly diverges from canon at that point...

Summary: As Emma searches for a way back home from the Wish Realm, help comes from a surprisingly welcome source...

{One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.}

Can also be found on AO3 or ff.net 

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells 

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked to Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at Regina, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?!?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend, but one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart to remind Regina just yet that she had spent the last day preaching that none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real, and hurry her along. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

Even if her heart was still crying out for her home and her family, for Henry’s soft hair tickling her nose when she placed a kiss to the top of his head, and Killian’s arms enfolding her, she didn’t know where to go in this topsy-turvy version of the homeland she had never actually lived in, and so she had to wait – more impatiently by the minute – until one of these two, either queen or thief, snapped out of their spell and led the way…

As it turned out, Robin Hood was not the sort of outlaw who would truly do harm to two ladies passing through his territory. He wouldn’t have even made to steal their jewels and furs once the same trance that had overcome Regina seemed to strike him mute as well, but Regina offered him a pouch of coins that had been strapped to her waist and a ruby ring, pressing it into his calloused palm with a quirked smile and the assurance that “she insisted, she was much more partial to his cause than he knew”.

Emma wanted to snort at the ridiculous understatement those words were, and she only barely managed to hold back a roll of her eyes, which she sensed the thief saw but let slide with a conspiratorial wink.

Before she could make an argument for trying to catch up to Gold – or Rumplestiltskin here, she supposed – or ask where they were going to find another bean, it was evening, they were entering a forest in the gathering dark, and soon they had been welcomed to sit around a roaring fire with Robin’s motley crew, and even been offered the ale and venison passed around the circle as if they were part of the merry band.

“Now,” the archer began, seated beside Regina, his boy nodding drowsily on his lap. He looked around her to meet Emma’s gaze head on. “You must be thinking that I owe you an apology. Clearly you were about to leave this place, and because of me, you missed your ride.”

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could get a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, Princess Emma,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The following morning dawned misty and cool, but fair, and Robin greeted Emma at the simmering coals of the previous night’s campfire with a welcoming grin, Regina at his side on the stump they used for a seat, looking as soft and at ease as Emma had ever seen her, her head resting on his strong shoulder seemingly still half asleep. She and Regina had talked at length the night before, and at long last Emma had accepted that Henry’s adoptive mother wasn’t returning with her yet. “I know he isn’t the same Robin, that this whole place is built on a whim, but I’m not losing him again,” she had whispered vehemently. “There has to be another way to get back…one that he could take as well…if he wanted to…” The emotion welling in Regina’s dark eyes had been raw enough that Emma finally consented to go on without further fighting to change her mind, only giving a nod in affirmation when Regina had asked, “You’ll explain to Henry? Tell him I mean to return as soon as we both can?”

“Ready, your Highness?” the sandy-haired outlaw asked, breaking into Emma’s recent memories once more and looking down at her from where he now stood at the ready. “We should make the harbor by noon, if we set out now.”

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

“Yes,” Robin answered her spoken question with an amiable nod as he kissed the back of Regina’s hand in farewell and turned to head off with Emma on his heels. “I happen to know a pirate with whom I sometimes trade my less than lawfully acquired goods. He might have just the sort of thing you need to return home…”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The sound of gulls crying and wheeling overhead and the creak and groan of the wooden docks as they reached the edge of the shore town and neared the sparkling blue harbor was enough to take Emma’s breath away. Robin took a step forward to lead her down the docks, already offering to make introductions, but Emma stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

There before them, as recognizable as always, was the Jolly Roger, bobbing proudly at anchor. Though most might be intimidated by the sight, Emma drew in the first full breath she’d had since remembering herself in this strange realm – as if she had gotten her first real glimpse of home at last. He might still be the vengeful Captain Hook in this reality, but somehow she wasn’t afraid. He would never truly hurt her – and she only wanted to be at his side again without further delay.

Reassuring Robin that she could take it from there, Emma bid him goodbye. Though he looked uncertain, the archer took her at her word and left her with his best wishes. If she clutched his hand a moment longer and a bit tighter than would be normal and bid him be safe a little too fervently – well, she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone here…

At her first step onto the gangplank, a shudder of recognition ran through her, as if the vessel itself was welcoming her back aboard, shivers skittering along her spine. At first glance, the ship seemed deserted, her crew perhaps gathering supplies or unwinding at the nearest tavern, but the air around her wavered, charged suddenly, letting her know she was not alone. Emma felt even before she heard heavy footfalls on the planks or that deep, commanding voice at her back, asking who went there, that she had not gone undetected by the ship’s captain.

Turning, her eyes found him, hungrily drinking in the details; altered, but still without doubt the man she loved. The dark hair was windblown and unruly, practically begging for her fingers to delve into its soft abundance and brush the fringe back off his forehead. Though the strands might be shaggier and generously shot through with grey, it made him no less attractive to her starving eyes. In fact, she only wanted to stare at him all the more, to catalogue every difference, trace the deeper crow’s feet around his eyes and the added lines on his forehead. Those fathomless blue eyes were lined so liberally with the kohl she hadn’t seen him use for some time in their modern Storybrooke life that she almost wanted to chuckle at the effect until she registered the way the blue of his gaze also looked paler – as if washed out by too many tears shed alone and without comfort, or dulled by pain held back because he couldn’t afford to let it show.

Brandishing his moniker, and that dastardly, flirtatious mask he had long since let drop around her, to full effect, Captain Hook stepped well into her personal space. “And who might you be?” he questioned, breath warm on the shell of her ear as he leaned in, hook lifting the heavy rope of her golden braid and tucking it back over her shoulder. It was an achingly familiar gesture and he stood much too close for calm comfort, sending her pulse fluttering again, and yet no recognition lit his gaze as he studied her; the fond devotion she had come to rely on more than she could say was utterly absent, making her heart ache and crack in her chest.

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” she answered as sturdily as she could, raising her chin and meeting his eye with as much confidence as she could muster. “I had hoped to speak to you on a delicate matter of some importance.”

“A delicate matter, is it?” he asked, his enunciation and the way his tongue caressed his words seductively had not been altered or diminished in the slightest, whatever else had changed. He stood back to his full height, fingers in his waistband, hips thrust forward and looking every bit as sinfully irresistible as he ever did, complete with that wide-open, chest-exposing red vest she had witnessed once in their trip to the past through Zelena’s portal. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been fooled by the bravado, but knowing his heart as only a True Love could, she saw the emptiness behind the lascivious look, the pain within the façade – the proper, honorable lieutenant he had been, hating the persona his course had forced him to adopt. Even as he ran his tongue across his lower lip, letting his eyes trace her curves from head to toe almost lewdly, she could see the regret clouding the pupils and the wistful longing – as if he could sense what might have been.

Unable to stop herself, Emma reached forward impulsively, grasping both his hook and hand tightly as she spoke, “Yes, very…but just maybe…I was meant to find you. Maybe you’re the only one who would believe me.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Another hour found them below deck in his cabin, seated at the scratched, weathered wooden table which had served him in his lonely meals for ages, Emma’s hand still clinging to his hook where it rested on his thigh, but the other reaching up tentatively to trace that faded scar she knew so well beneath his eye. Hook – though more and more her Killian with every passing moment – had scooted closer to her on the roughhewn bench, blinking in awe as she saw hope returning to his face. He appeared both afraid to believe her words, but also desperate for them to be true.

“So you’re telling me that all of this around us – this whole life – is an illusion?” he asked haltingly, not daring to move his eyes from her face, as though he thought she might disappear as quickly as she had come to him.

“Well, yeah, basically,” she tried to explain. “Or more like…it’s a possibility that didn’t actually come true. There’s this v-villain in my home, in the real timeline that I come from, who made a wish that reset things, and I was sucked into it. I have a son, family and friends, a-and another version of you…who’s my True Love…there missing me. And I have to get back to them.”

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and drawing comfort from its rhythm. She already felt stronger, more certain, even with this iteration of her pirate. Her watery smile quirked up into a bit of a smirk at one corner, “And don’t worry, he’s still devilishly handsome.”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

Emma hummed under her breath, reaching out to run her fingers along a grey streak in his longer hair. “I don’t know about that,” she offered. “There’s something pretty appealing about this model, grey hair and all.”

“You flatter me, Milady,” he teased, that voice still a sinful purr rumbling from his chest as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to its back. Still, emotion welled up beneath the flirtation, making his magnetic gaze all the harder for her to escape. She was blinking, nonplussed and floundering for some audible response, when he straightened and pulled her to her feet with him. “Enough lollygagging then! I’ll prepare the old girl to set sail. It’s time we got you back where you belong!”

For a moment, Emma was stunned anew. This full-on piratical version of her True Love, who didn’t really even know her and had no reason to do anything she said, had not only chosen to believe her story, but was going out of his way to help her – just as he had ever since he turned his ship around to take her to Neverland. The lump in her throat was almost too much to speak around, but Emma managed to croak out, “You really would give anything to help me, wouldn’t you?” even as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Aye,” he affirmed, looking a bit like he was marveling at that fact himself. “I am not sure I fully understand, nor can I explain it to you, but I sense that I would – that I am almost compelled – to help you in any world or time you would appear to me.”

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ear flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Standing beside him at the helm just a few short hours later, wind in her hair and the salt spray on her face, it struck Emma that though she was desperate to get home, to make sure her son, her family, and her Killian were alright, she didn’t want to simply abandon this pirate captain beside her. She didn’t know what would happen to him, if he would find something to live for, something to be part of, or if she was dooming him to his quiet desperation…even if he might simply vanish into nothingness with the rest of this ill-fated wish. She didn’t know what happened next, to be completely honest. Laying a hand on his forearm, she gazed up into his face, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what becomes of you, or this realm, when I leave here and go home,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you all just go on like it never happened, if you cease to exist, if you wander here aimless forever…I just…I don’t know…”

Covering her hand with his, he guided the ship with no more than his hook rested capably on the wheel. “Worry not, Princess,” was his confident response, fervent resolve painted over his strong, careworn features. “We shall still set things right, as they should be. Whatever comes after this – infinity or oblivion – will be an awfully big adventure.”

Tagging: @kmomof4​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @laschatzi​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @thislassishooked​ @winterbaby89​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @hollyethecurious​ @artistic-writer​ @stahlop​ @elizabeethan​ @donteattheappleshook​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @apiratewhopines​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @ineffablecolors​ @drowned-dreamer​ @thisonesatellite​ @kday426​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @xhookswenchx​ @hookedonapirate​ @blowmiakisscolin​ 

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you get me” (famous!y/n x harry)

Famous!y/n x Harry Styles

First Harry fic so please be kind, but feedback is SUPER appreciated

Initially inspired by the picture of Harry leaving the Gucci store with 15 bags but barely has anything to do with that lol

Definitely thought of Ellen for the interview idk why tho - also I struggle with writing Harry’s dialogue because I really want to get it right, but hopefully the more practice I get, the better/more natural it will sound. ALSO i have like no music or music industry background lol. Somewhat proofread, but its 2:30 am so it could be shit

Fluff!

Warnings: maybe some angst over being famous per say, past loneliness

Word Count: 3.7k literally howwww, i’m going to do a pt. 2 though because it was kind of a long set up and feelingsssss

---

Interviewer: Please, welcome our next guest, a woman who’s sure to have her name written up beside the music greats someday, Ms. Y/N L/N!

You can’t contain the grin that spreads to your face as you carry yourself out onto the stage and see the audience cheering for you. It was your third big interview since your first album had been released and you’d seen your fame skyrocket over night. This being the third one this week meant you’d gotten comfortable getting asked questions, but you also weren’t bored of it yet. It was exhilarating being the center of attention, especially for something that had been your life’s work up until this point. You always had to fight for whatever you got and the recognition you were starting to have was reassurance that you hadn’t been a fool to risk a safe and certain life for your dreams.

The interview begins as the rest had, a few pleasantries, how you were feeling, and then the introduction of the album. The host asked you what your inspiration was for some of the songs and the album name and cover. You loved to talk about the music, it was the whole reason you were there. The meaning, the sound, the name, it all meant so much to you and you talked about how music can be interpreted differently by everyone and even the shifts in someone’s mood can change a song’s meaning, but what it meant to you at the time of writing was always something specific. You practiced those answers in the mirror before the interviews because they were important to you and you didn’t want your words on your art to ever be misconstrued. The host then complimented your style and you were at the point where you thought your interview should be wrapping up when they asked you one more question, and it threw you for a loop.

Interviewer: So Y/N, we’ve been hearing some rumblings around, about you and another famous musician, Mr. Harry Styles. Anything going on there?

Your face heated up, you hadn’t been expecting a personal question about possible relationships. Nothing like this had been asked of you at your previous interviews. It’s about the music, the art, and who you were, it’s always about that and nothing more. To be honest, you were a bit annoyed the host had chosen to stray from those topics. You didn’t care for the celebrity side of being a famous musician, the lack of privacy, the prying eyes of media and the general public. They saw enough of you through your art, you bore your soul through music why did they want to peak into your heart as well?

Y/N: I don’t know if I’d rather be with Harry Styles or actually be Harry Styles. Like, he’s literally such an icon, I want to be able to walk out of a Gucci store after spending hours there with 15 bags full of my purchases and helpers to carry it all out c’mon… He’s also an amazing songwriter, musician, and performer, of course. Didn’t mean to sound superficial, but I’d also love to own even half of his closet.

You hadn’t really answered the question, but the audience laughed and the host obviously got the hint that you weren’t interested in fanning any flames of romance with Harry Styles or anyone else. For one, you didn’t even know the man, but you had always been a loving fan of his. You cited him as one of your role models when you were first starting to try and break into the music world. Second, if you did know him, that wouldn’t be an appropriate topic for your album press junket going on, even if it meant more publicity because of Harry’s big celebrity status. The host decided to qualify their original question with a final sentiment.

Interviewer: I totally feel the same way! I only ask because the outpouring of support you’ve received seems to be from similar groups who also follow Harry. Many have been comparing your sound to his solo career work.

Y/N: Ah...well that’s very kind of people to say. He’s definitely a big inspiration, his creativity and drive is incredible. I’d love to be as successful as him someday.

The interview ended. You and the host shook hands and you waved and sent kisses to the crowd before retreating backstage. You were exhausted, but happy. You hoped to avoid anymore stressful interview questions that didn’t truly revolve around music. Of course, life is never that simple.

-

One month later

You had done countless more interviews and talk shows as promo for your album and the buzz around it had continued to grow. Your fame continued to rise as well and that one question you had dodged at your third interview had come back around to bite you, naturally. Daily Mail’s dumb headline read: “Y/N can’t decide! Date Harry Styles or Steal His Closet?” The Sun was also running with your response and miscontruing it completely, something about how you were madly in love with Harry but jealous of his designer partnerships, you couldn’t even stomach reading the garbage. This was your worst nightmare. Not only was it taking away the focus from your album, but you were also sure this dumb gossip had reached the very set of ears that the gossip was allegedly also about.

You had signed with Columbia Records for your first album, the same record label as Harry Styles, so managers had been in contact with one another about the whole fiasco trying to get the actual truth - which was that the two of you didn’t even know each other and there were no problems whatsoever. Your manager also brought along the good news that Harry had actually listened to your album and loved it, “He said ‘Congratulations’ by the way, loved the sound. Said he’d heard you were very music focused and be open to do some mentoring on songwriting and vocal specifics, if you wanted. It’d have to be in private though, obviously.” She had added the last bit, but you understood why. To have the opportunity to discuss your music with one of your longtime role models, heroes even, was beyond anything you could have imagined coming from your album’s success. And it made the drama all the more palatable because now you at least got to talk to Harry like the media was so adamantly saying you were doing already.

You nodded quickly and agreed, while trying to keep your teenage fangirl excitement hidden below your mature now-famous musician facade. Like you said, Harry was your hero, he’d been your hero since you were in middle school and had Up All Night downloaded on your iPod touch, blasting it as loud as possible, sound hitting your poster-filled walls. You weren’t the same girl as you were then, obviously, you had grown up to be a strong, independent, and confident woman. But, you still smiled at the thought of your younger self with your baby face squealing in the nosebleeds at the Take Me Home Tour (where you swore Harry had looked straight at you) and her seeing you now, dressed in a sleek outfit setting up an appointment to meet with Harry to discuss your first album, a success.

-

The next Thursday evening

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your pursed lips. You were anxious and excited at the exact same time. Your meeting with Harry was tonight, right now actually, and you hadn’t been able to think about much else since your manager had confirmed the meeting last week. She got you the details a couple of days ago, the location: his house in Malibu, the time: 5:45 P.M. You had brought along a copy of your album on vinyl because you thought it sounded best this way, second only to performing it live.

Choosing your outfit for tonight was probably the toughest decision you’d ever made, harder than choosing between an education and following your dreams, harder than choosing your favorite Beatles song. You didn’t want to worry so much, this wasn’t a date you kept reminding yourself, but everything you tried on earlier kept having something wrong with it, too dressy, too boring, too ‘not yourself’. You had settled for these blue high-waisted pants that you’d worn to your first ever podcast interview, a thin black long sleeve, and a brown leather coat that fell below your hips with vans sneakers, casual, simple, yet still true to you and your vibe.

You raised your free arm and formed a fist, hesitant to knock, as if you’d damage Harry’s seemingly perfect Malibu beachfront home by knocking too hard on the wooden front door. You waited a few moments and could here some shuffling behind the door, some incoherent words were seemingly said, but the walls muffled them before they could reach for ears. Soon enough, Harry Styles in the flesh was before you. He beamed down at you, huffing, slightly out of breath as if he had been clear across the house when you knocked. His strong figure towered above your far smaller stature. He was hanging onto the door since he had opened it only slightly. “Hello, Y/N?” he greeted and questioned simultaneously. “Hi,” you responded and extended the same hand that had just rapped against his now open door. He gripped it, ushering you into his home, “Come in, come in, it’s nice to meet you, don’t want you to catch a cold now do we?” He took note of your strong handshake and ring clad fingers.

He walked you into an area between the kitchen and a sitting area. The kitchen was open aside from a bar high top between the two rooms. You sat down at his prompting and made yourself comfortable. “I brought my record on vinyl, sounds best in my opinion, otherwise I’d recommend seeing it live,” you laughed as you handed the vinyl to him and took off your coat. “Technically, y’know, I could hear it live right now, if you were willin’ f’course,” Harry had responded over his shoulder as he placed the vinyl by his idle record player, “Anything to drink?” “Just water for me, please.” His accent was even stronger in person, especially since he had moved back to London and seldomly stayed in California, except for business and quick trips. As far as you knew, he had already been here on business for the week and was able to pencil you in.

You two settled in, with your waters, seated at the bar top beside each other, but swivelling the chairs to face one another more. Again, you were overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, sitting beside Harry Styles as professionals, peers even. He had heard your work and liked it enough to want to discuss it with you. It was a day you never thought would come to pass. He started off not by asking about the music right away, but about how you were doing with the whirlwind that stardom is. “How are you, Y/N? It’s been somewhat of a out of the frying pan into the fire kind of moment for you?” He stared at you intently, caring to hear your answer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle again and contain your smile, “Thank you for asking, Harry. Yeah, its been definitely stressful, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more so the good is still outweighing any bad. Definitely, fucking exhausted though, dunno how many more interviews I can do before my jaw goes completely rigid from talking so much.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, his eyes shone with intrigue at what you said and how you said it. You were gorgeous, but it was how your hands helped you through what you were trying to say and the small laughs you tried to keep in while you amused yourself with your words that really made him want to hear you talk all night long.

He agreed about how the promo junket for an album can get tedious and tiresome, but also the absolute fulfillment you get from people loving the music you’ve made. The two of you chatted about surface level personal matters for a little more, but quickly moved to the music. “I took a listen a couple weeks after the album was released. I especially loved the last track. It reminded me so much of a song I never released, actually…” he trailed off.

Your final track had been a ballad, an homage to George Harrison with your use of guitar and sitar, but the lyrics were a story based off of a poem you had written one night in high school. It surrounded a girl never feeling quite good enough for the person she wanted to be with and how it happened everytime, everytime she was ready to giver herself to someone, they were always closed off. Of course it held some truth to your own life and feelings, but you wrote this girl as someone with a seemingly perfect life - when yours was obviously far from any semblance of perfection.

You wondered what Harry’s song would have sounded like, had it been about a seemingly perfect girl or a guy with a seemingly perfect life, always giving himself to the wrong person and getting destroyed by that very fact because he was impatient as the girl in your song had been. “Can I ask, how so? How’d it remind you of your own song, the words or the music?” “Oh, the story, I felt like that for a time in my life and I like to be vulnerable in my songs because it helps me process, but listening to it back has always been too painful. Could never release that or perform it, it’d wreck me.” You nodded, you completely got where he was coming from. You noticed his downcast eyes and his somber tone, you knew not to push it any further.

It was quiet and you decided it’d be okay to take his hand resting between the two of you. “Harry, I understand,” your sincerity spilled into the words, filling the quiet house, “It’s not easy. Feeling that way. Thinking you’re the only goddamn one and why the fuck does it always happen to you? I used to ask my ceiling ‘why me?’ every night of high school” you smiled then. “But you know how it is,” you rubbed your thumb over his large warm hand and he lifted his head, “it gets so much better - c’mon look at us now! It can get hard, too, all this, I’m sure. But our lives? They’re amazing!” He beamed as he had when he had first seen you at his door and when you’d first really spoke. He moved his hand from under your palm to weave your fingers with his, both of your hands with covered in rings and they clinked to fit together, finally resting perfectly fitted. He shook your two hands up and down, “God, you’re so right! That damn song, m’sorry always puts me in a mood,” he shakes his head, “not yours though, f’course, s’lovely, better than my sodding song” he finishes quickly.

After that, the mood lightened right back up. It filled you with such appreciation for Harry that he would trust you so much with such a personal detail since you two had just met. But maybe, he had trusted you because he had felt that same spark between you. It wasn’t necessarily a romantic spark, but it was obvious the two of you were kindred spirits. Besides your album, the two of you talked about everything. You loved the same bands, movies and books, you both loved to cook and had similar fashion taste, you even had the same person type - something you found out late into the night.

At the end of the Side B of your album, Harry switched to a Bill Evans record that had ‘Peace Piece’ on it. You loved that song. So did he. “So...planning to raid my closet?” Harry raised his brows from the record player and walked back to you. You almost sputtered the water in your mouth. Luckily, you got it down. “Pardon?” “All that bad press the two of us have been getting...I watched the interview that kind of ignited the tabloids. You’re obviously not used to those overstepping personal questions.” You nodded. “It’s fine, even if you’d completely shut it down, the tabloids probably would have picked it up still, they snap up anything and everything, true or not.” You softened at his reassurance. You hadn’t expected Harry to bring the interview up, but you were sure he wasn’t happy about it, he was so private, especially about his love life. “Thanks, I’m sorry I tried to laugh it off, kind of made it worse, didn’t I?” “No! Thought it was hilarious and I totally appreciated the sentiment. Little ol’me, an icon? And an amazing artist? All I gotta do is watch that clip and I’ve fed my narcissistic side for the week!” You giggled and replied slyly, “So does that mean I can raid your closet? As compensation, of course.” Harry threw his head back in an all consuming laughter, when he’d composed himself he looked in your eyes again and said, “You just...God, you get me.”

Harry had continued to put records on throughout the night, diligently flipping sides and asking for requests, he of course had an extensive collection. The two of you had moved onto his plush couch that looked out his french doors to the beautiful ocean view. Finally, your exhaustion caught up to you, mid-Harry describing his latest travel fiasco, you glanced up at the clock. You gasped. Harry stopped. “When did it get to be half 12?” you questioned almost incredulously, “I’ve gotta get home, Harry, but this has been truly amazing, more than I could have asked for, so thank you.” Your speech began to rush as you started to get up and gather your things, that had slowly scattered as you’d gotten more comfortable, jacket by the table, shoes around the back of the couch, your phone forgotten somewhere in the couch. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry Styles.

Harry quickly stood up from his relaxed positioned on the couch and asked if you were alright to drive this late. You scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve driven around at 3 am before, I just have to turn up the music and I can cruise.” He smiled, “This was great, Y/N, I know we didn’t really go super in depth into your writing process, but I’d love to write with you sometime or just hang out again f’course. Your seriously talented and obviously a wonderful person.” He didn’t include that he felt like he’d never met anyone like you, never met someone so perfectly matched to himself, in passions but also in work ethic and demeanor - compassionate yet confident. He felt like you got him perfectly and he got you. You had stopped your scramble to gather yourself and now you were both smiling at one another.

This had really been an unforgettable night, you couldn’t believe how well you two had meshed, like childhood friends reconnecting after years apart. “Can I give yeh a hug before you go?” Harry’s voice had grown raspier as the night had progressed. He had grown rather tired an hour ago, but had pushed through because they had been having so much fun and you hadn’t noticed his physical fading or the time, obviously. You stepped toward him and his large tattooed arms enveloped you into his body. His body truly dwarfed yours now as he held you to his chest. You both were warm and soft. He tucked his head on top of yours that rested on his chest. Your arms were loosely resting where his back met his waist because you would have had to strain to get them to encircle him. His arms rested around your small frame. “Love your jacket,” he mumbled into your hair. His rough voice was quiet, but the house was silent otherwise, Tusk Side C had finished around when you had noticed the time. The embrace lasted long, but it felt so amazing you had a hard time pulling yourself away, but you had to get back home.

“G’night Harry” you said softly at the threshold of his home. He had insisted on walking you to the front door at least, since you had declined his offer to walk you out to your car on the street. “G’night. Safe travels.”

You got in your car and headed to your apartment in the city. You didn’t bother digging for your phone so you turned on the radio and drove home singing whatever came on, including your own song at one point. The whole time you drove with a grin. Harry was the nicest person you’d ever met and you were confident that the two of you were friends now. As you pulled into your parking garage it dawned on you why you hadn’t connected your phone immediately when you got in your car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you put the car in park and rested your palms in the depressions of your eyesockets, over your closed eyelids, and rubbed hard. “Fuck!” It was far too late to drive back out to Malibu for your phone and you obviously couldn’t text Harry that you’d left your phone at his place, despite the two of you exchanging numbers during the night for future hang outs, so they didn’t have to be arranged through your managers, like playdates. Even if he found your phone between the cushions, he couldn’t drop it at your place in the morning because he didn’t know your address. This was a whole mess, you thought. You’d have to drive over in the morning and hope he was still there or email your manager from your computer. The former meant you got to see Harry sooner and likely your phone, too.

part 2

-

@berrynarrybanana​

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part seven

By the end of the night at Jeff and Glenne’s, Lexi was nowhere to be found. You didn’t really mind--you didn’t feel as out of place as you’d expected and Harry had been more than happy to bring you around to different friends or familiar faces to say hello. 

A girl with dark brown hair who sang backup on his album listened excitedly as he brought her up to speed on the new plan for release. The album, originally due out in August or September was now being pushed to December. It was strategic really. 

Late summer buzz when the baby announcement came out. Winter album release, promo before and after to tide his fans over until a spring time tour, giving him the perfect span of three or four stationary months in L.A. that aligned with your maternity leave.

Genius, really. It was all thanks to Jeff and his team.

So you smiled at the girl with the dark hair and pretended you didn’t notice the fact that she kept stealing glances down at your belly, as small as it still was. 

This was the risky stage, really, when people got it wrong and asked about someone’s due date, only to be mortified when someone gave the dreaded response, I’m not pregnant. You’d seen it happen to someone else once, a woman in the checkout line at the grocery store. The cashier put her foot in her mouth and you vowed to never ask someone about their due date unless they mentioned it first. 

So you cut Laura some slack. 

“We’ll tour it next spring and summer, so you’ll have to come,” he said to his friend, a smile on his face when he lifted up his sunglasses. The sun had already sunk beneath the horizon, his cheeks were tinged pink from the hot day.

“I’ll bring your youngest audience member ever,” you revealed, letting a hand rub over your belly as you offered a smile in her direction.

“Oh, that’s so sweet! When are you due?”

“January, middle of the month. So--I might need some noise canceling headphones.”

“Hey--I make good music,” Harry pretended to take offense. 

“I didn’t say you don’t--”

“Is it yours?” Laura asked, her eyes pulling up to Harry’s face for a second, wide with shock.

Harry looked down at you, down at the bump. You could tell he was frozen, unsure of what he should say and how he should say it. 

“No--God no,” you said quickly. “It’s our friend, Peter.”

Harry’s lips twitched into a smile. “Yeah--Peter, he’s a good friend. He’s a great guy, a dream, really. Gonna be a great father.”

“He’s okay,” you made a face at Harry. “A lot to learn, probably never changed a diaper in his life.”

“He has too,” Harry defended quickly. “At least five or six.”

“Well he’ll be changing probably five or six a day.”

“That’s fine, he’ll be fine with that. He’s extremely committed to that baby.”

“Yeah, well,” you stifled a laugh. “We’ll see.”

Laura laughed, a skeptical look disappeared from her face when Glenne came up and offered dessert, effectively breaking up the conversation. Harry draped an arm over your shoulder for a split second when most people had started to make their way to the other side of the pool. 

“Just so you know, I’m gonna make you call her and explain that lie once we come out with it.”

“Deal,” you said. “I’ll tell her you had sex with your friend Peter’s girlfriend and we didn’t know who’s it was until it was born..”

“Jesus,” he laughed. “Can’t tell if you’re the funniest person I’ve met or the meanest.”

“I like to think I’m a mix of both.”

**

It was probably a good thing that you didn’t see Harry for another week after that. The onesie and the party at Jeff and Glenne’s and a completely new project at work had you feeling incredibly overwhelmed, left with only enough energy to drive home, take off your bra, and sit on the couch. 

Most nights Lexi was home. There were a few evenings when she’d meet Glenne and Jeff or stay late on set. She’d come home with leftovers or funny stories, and you’d fall asleep before 10pm. 

But you figured it was a good thing, the distance and space. The last two times you’d seen him, you left with a glow. The infatuation kind, not the pregnancy kind. That type of shit was asking for trouble. 

So you ignored the urge to call or text him. Most days he’d ask how you were feeling, what you were up to. You’d take your time to respond, give short answers and tell him you were too busy to see him. It wasn’t necessarily true, but you were tired. Too tired to drive all the way to his house in the hills and then all the way home. Especially when being around him required the self-control and restraint that it suddenly did.

You answered when he called, talked on the phone for an hour at a time some days. You told yourself it was nothing. It was normal it was normal it was normal. 

On the Wednesday of week twelve, you were scheduled to meet with the same crew: Jeff, Harry, Dave, Emma, Lola, and John. This time, the topic was a bit more hopeful. Some type of strategy meeting to talk about what type of information to release and what to keep private. 

When you woke up and started rifling through your closet, you came to a grim realization. Things weren’t fitting the same. Buttoned shirts now felt tight around the tummy, pants felt a bit snug in the waist. 

It happened overnight, really. You’d heard about the pop--when your belly finally protrudes outward and when you actually start to look pregnant, not just bloated. You didn’t know when it would come, but you certainly weren’t prepared for it to already be here.

Lexi was already gone, otherwise you’d storm into her room and make her promise you didn’t look funny. You weren’t about to FaceTime Glenne--only in fear that Jeff would be around and think you were being ridiculous. You also figured keeping your distance from him wasn’t a bad idea. 

So you settled on a dress, a casual one, and you didn’t even realize that someone might notice until you walked into work. 

Aarav didn’t even seem to look at you twice--he was too busy in his office dealing with a last minute request from Levi. Simone was busy too, and when you met up with them for lunch, you kept your tray and plate in front of you, praying and hoping that they wouldn’t notice the way you looked a bit more round. 

A text came across your phone when Aarav went on about Carson. 

Harry (12:43pm): Twelve week mark! See you at 5pm?

It was almost a relief to walk into the Westwood office building at the end of the day. It was a comfort, really, to be in a room full of people who knew your biggest secret. Harry met you in the lobby, a smile on his face when you offered a hug. 

“Look at me,” you said quietly, a few people passed by on their way out of work. “I look pregnant.”

He looked down, his brows furrowed together and his lips pushed out. He scanned your figure, a wave of relief washed over you when he spoke. “Wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t say anything--but, you do, a bit. You look good.”

“I feel weird,” you said, following him over to the same elevators as you tried to ignore the compliment. “I used to just look bloated, but now it’s like--real.”

Once the doors shut and afforded you both some privacy, he turned to face you. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, voice quiet as the elevator whirred. “Can I--can I feel it?”

“Oh,” you looked down, a hand immediately on your own belly. You’d been doing it plenty, a force of habit, now, really. You found yourself doing it in meetings, on the phone, one hand on the steering wheel and another on the bump. “Yeah, of course you can--here,” you reached for his hand, guiding it towards you, warmth when he made contact. 

It felt a little silly. It was still just your stomach--somewhere deeper in there was a baby the size of a lime. He kept his eyes on the blue fabric of your dress, both of your hands over his until the doors opened. 

Jeff, on the other side, was caught off guard. “Hi--hey, I was just coming to find you.”

“Hi,” you said, a step back from Harry as if there was some sort of rule about proximity. 

He offered an awkward smile, motioned for you to both follow him down the same long hall, past the same rooms and chairs and windows. Harry let out a giggle under his breath, smirked in your direction, another wave of butterflies.

It was the first time you’d seen any of them since the test results, you swore Dave seemed to soften when you sat across from him, this time, Harry was beside you. 

“So,” Dave spoke, a quick glance around the room. “Good to see everyone.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” Jeff said, settling into his seat before he reached for a water bottle. “Lola--you’re good to start us off?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, short red hair brushed the tops of her shoulders. She smiled in your direction, much less hesitant than times before. “We’re really here today to start thinking about how we want to share this news. It’s obviously not going to stay a secret forever, so we’re wondering about different options to get in front of it--while still maintaining everyone’s safety and privacy.”

You nodded, a sideways glance in Harry’s direction.

“We have a few options, Harry, about how to do that,” Jeff explained. “We could choose an outlet to inform and let them break it. Or, we could talk about a social media post, a statement from Lola…”

He turned to look at you, caution in his eyes when you offered a small smile. Nothing felt ideal--nothing they said sounded like a good option or like it wouldn’t bring trouble. 

Up until now, really, it had just been the two of you. That was, if you didn’t count the four other people in the room, Lexi, Glenne, your mother, and his family. So, the twelve of you, really. 

Things until now were quiet and private, a small buzz that was stressful enough. You couldn’t even imagine the news spreading, questions, accusations, the ways all of the aforementioned would keep you up at night. 

Harry looked around the room. “Uh--a statement is probably best, yeah?”

“I would think so--your fans will want to hear from you though, too,” Jeff nodded.

Lola smiled, softly, in your direction. “What do you think, Y/N?”

You were shocked, really. Stammered a few things before wishing you could disappear, totally not equipped to respond to that type of question. “Uh, yeah--the statement--I don’t know, whatever you think,” you looked towards Harry, a sudden feeling in your gut that out of everyone in the room, you could trust him the most. 

“We should wait until you’re father along,” Jeff said. “Probably closer to the sixth month mark?”

You nodded--that was something you could get behind. It also gave you some more time to figure out who needed to know before then. As contractual as this had become, there were still some people in your life who’d benefit from finding out that you were pregnant with a celebrity’s baby from you, rather than on TV or online.

Lola went on to say something else, but you were too busy making a list in your brain of who that entailed. 

Levi, Simone, Aarav. Your two aunts in Oregon. Your college roommate, Brie, maybe even your father--if you could track him down. You could feel your heartbeat in your chest, more people to disappoint, more people to make the admission to: I fucked up. I didn’t check all the boxes in the right order.

“Does that sound alright?” Harry turned to get a better look at you, his eyes searched your face.

“What?”

“September,” Lola said. “Make the statement in September.”

“Sure,” you nodded. Two months away. That felt like an eternity. 

“How are you feeling about it?” Her question was directed at you, but it took you a second to realize that. Harry watched you, his eyebrows lifted as he waited for a response. 

“About having a baby?”

“About coming out with it,” Jeff said. 

You shifted in your office chair, hands clasped on your lap. “I don’t really know what to expect, to be fair.”

Jeff looked at Harry, then at Lola. 

Harry cleared his throat and rested his elbows on the table, he spoke directly to you. “I think there’ll be some people who are really upset and some who are really happy.”

“You should make your social media private,” Lola said. “That’s the majority of what comes up when I ran a google search of your name. A few things about your work if you dig really deep.”

“Which they will,” Harry said. 

“Okay,” you nodded. “Should I be, like, worried about my safety?

“No,” Jeff said. “Definitely not. If there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable we’ll assess and just get a security detail.”

Harry made a face at that, one you couldn’t read. He sat back in his chair and listened to Lola say more about the announcement and how important it was for him to set the tone once the news was out. 

You were almost as zoned out as he was, but you heard mention of make them believe you’re excited, and that’s when you decided you’d had enough. So you stared out the window, nodded every few seconds to make them think you were listening and invested and following along so you could follow the rules. 

Sure, maybe accidentally getting pregnant wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but Lola’s insinuation that neither of you were excited felt like a dig. Out of everyone in the room, you were the one who had to deal with the most shit. Not only did you get a baby out of one drunken night, but you also got the body changes, the hormones, and the new relationship with someone who was too famous for his own good. 

But aside from all of that--all the shit that made this stressful and terrifying and overwhelming altogether--there was still a piece of you that was excited. And it was easier to feel that later that night when you sat in the same In N’ Out parking lot as before. 

“You don’t, like, regret deciding to keep it, right?”

Your question caught him off guard. He was mid-bite and let out a bit of a cough, wiping his mouth with the backside of his hand before he looked over at you. 

“No--do you?”

“No. I don’t know. Lola said we have to act excited. As if we aren’t at all or something.”

“I know,” he said, voice quieter. “That was pretty shitty, but I don’t think she meant anything by it.”

You nodded, hoping he was right. 

“I am excited, to be clear.”

“Me too,” a nod. “I’m getting more excited. Next time we see Dr. Weston we might be able to know the sex.”

He smirked. “We already know the sex, Y/N.”

“Where’s your premonition coming from?” You laughed. “What makes you so sure?”

He laughed, a sip from his water bottle. “I think you’re going to be a really good mom no matter what. But I think you’d be especially good with a little girl.”

“You’re going to sound like such an asshole if we have a boy.”

“If we have a boy it’ll be great! He can like sports and princesses, too.”

You took another bite of your dinner, a silent prayer that this pregnancy wouldn’t turn against you and make you hate the smell of In N’ Out. “I think you’ll be a good dad, too.”

And then he did it again. He looked out the window and seemed to be somewhere else. Maybe somewhere not as congested as LA, easier and quieter and somewhere were you didn’t exist and the plum sized baby didn’t either. 

You stuck a french fry in your mouth and chewed--thankful for the fact that the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. 

“Would you--” he turned to see you suddenly, a sigh escaping his lips. “Hear me out, okay?”

You nodded.

“Would you think I was totally, absolutely mental if I asked you to move in with me?”

Your eyes must have gone wide, maybe the color even drained from your face, because before you could answer, he rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. “I know--okay, s’fine.”

“No--I just, that’s not what I expected. At all.”

He took another breath, his words came out quick this time as if he was nervous. “I know it’s crazy, but, Jeff got me freaked out today. When he talked about getting you a security detail I thought about your apartment and I know it’s in a house and it’s a nice neighborhood but--”

You didn’t say anything. You watched as he pushed his lips to one side and then the other. 

“I could never live with myself if anything happened to you.” A pause. “Or her.”

You rolled your eyes at that, a small laugh immediately granted levity to the front seat of his car. Dimples appeared on his cheeks when he saw the smile on your face.

“I hear you, but--I’ll be fine.”

He started speaking before you even finished. “Think of it this way, too. When she’s here, we’ll want to be together, right? I mean--don’t you think you’ll want more space than what you’ve got with Lexi? Don’t you think she’ll get sick of dirty nappies and all the crying in the middle of the night? If we live together I can help more and we can go through it together.”

You thought on that for a second. There was no doubt in your mind that Lexi would eventually lose her shit and need a good amount of space from the new roommate you were both about to have. You ignored the thumping in your chest at the thought of it. You, Harry, a tiny baby in that stupid onesie he bought. It sounded perfect.

“Think about it, yeah? I’ve got plenty of room.”

You nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

**

Dave had given you the go ahead to tell your coworkers. It took three phone calls with Jeff and him and Harry, but he eventually relented. When you ended up telling him that he didn’t have to go to work trying not to puke every morning waiting for your coworkers to notice the growing bump, he gave in. 

You were relieved, that is, until Levi called a team meeting, the five of you sat around a conference table on the third floor--also known as the floor with the balance ball chairs. You had no idea how much your back had been bothered by your regular office chair until you settled in to your seat. 

“So,” Levi looked around at the four of you. “Obviously my leaving is bittersweet, I know we’ve all been working hard lately to make the transition as smooth as possible. But we obviously haven’t handled one aspect of that, which is, the new Team Lead.”

You kept a straight face, glanced over to Aarav who suddenly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d been planning on telling them that afternoon, at least Aarav and Simone. Maybe you’d wait until Levi left to fill him in, maybe you’d wait until you left for maternity leave to tell Carson. 

But would Levi still choose you to fill his role if he knew you were pregnant? Bound to take a decent maternity leave right after the holidays? Right when things amped up in the New Year?

“Y/N--you’ve obviously been a huge part of our success this last year, and I spoke with Mike and Tracy about having you fill the role, if you’re interested.”

“Yes--of course I’m interested,” you smiled. “I would love to.”

“Awesome--you’re obviously all in good hands,” he said to the others, a smile in your direction again. “You and I can meet with the rest of the Marketing c-suite--it’ll be painless, I’m sure.”

Now was definitely not a good time to tell them, but, your body decided it was the perfect time for an all encompassing wave of nausea. 

“Okay--yeah, sounds good.” You tried to wrap things up, looked over at Simone, hopeful she’d follow your lead. 

“When’s your last day, again?” Carson closed his laptop, if you weren’t doing your best to keep your lunch down, you’d be more surprised that he wasn’t as bitter as you’d expected him to be.

“August 5th.” 

You stood from the table, beads of sweat on your forehead. Aarav gave you a look, Simone was too busy on her phone. 

Levi started to gather his belongings. “We’ll get everything sorted out, too, about who’s going to take on some of Y/N’s responsibilities. Most things will stay the same, but, I think Mike wants to hire someone else to do some more of the graphic work, too.”

“I’m so sorry--” you said, embarrassed to rush out of a meeting like this. “I have to go--uh, make a phone call, really quick.

Again, Aarav looked at you like you’d started speaking another language. 

“Yeah, go ahead, no worries,” Levi looked suspicious too, but he turned back to Carson.

You bolted for the door, down the hall, no idea where the nearest bathroom was. Water fountain, lounge area, vending machine. Where the fuck was the bathroom?

You found it around the corner, barely making it into a stall before throwing up, desperately trying to pull your sticky hair away from your face when your knees met the floor.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Simone was behind you--the carpet of the hallway had apparently quieted her footsteps. You reached for toilet paper and wiped your mouth, thankful that no one else had witnessed your close call. The only thing worse than throwing up at work was throwing up on the floor at work.

You flushed, stood back up and offered a smile. “Yeah--sorry--bad lunch, I guess.”

“Are you pregnant?”

“What?” You laughed, waving a hand before wiping at your mouth again. “No--that’s crazy!”

She raised an eyebrow at you.

A sigh. “Fine,” you said. “I am. But--you can’t tell them yet, okay?”

Her lips threatened to curl upwards, but she caught herself. “Are you--was it on purpose?”

“No,” a wave of embarrassment replaced the nausea in your stomach. “It was completely unplanned.”

“Who’s the father?”

Dave had been clear on the phone. If you have to tell them, we’ll prepare NDAs for them to sign. 

“You don’t know him.”

Maybe she did. 

“Is it that guy you’ve been seeing?”

“Yeah--we’re just friends.”

“Who have sex?”

“Just once.”

“Holy shit!”

“I know--I wanted to tell you!”

She pouted, an understanding look on her face. “That’s why you won’t have margaritas with us.”

“Busted.”

“How are you doing with it? Does your mom know?”

You thought on that for a second--it had been a while since someone asked. Harry was inquiring quite frequently, but you were also at the point now where you gave him a daily update about any symptoms. Jeff and Glenne and Lexi would check in, too, of course, but Simone was asking you on a deeper level. 

She was asking if you were losing your shit altogether and having recurring panic attacks when you’d try to fall asleep. 

“I’m okay,” you said, a confident nod. “I was freaked at first, and I am, still, a little--but, it’s been going okay.”

“Are you going to tell Aarav?”

“Yeah, yeah--I was gonna let both of you know today, but then Levi dropped that shit.”

“How dare he promote you,” she teased, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well I couldn’t exactly follow that up with thanks so much, I’ll need three months maternity leave in January.”

“A January baby!” She threw her arms around you. “How far are you?”

“Thirteen weeks.”

She let go, looked you up and down. “You’ll be fine, you can totally handle this. Is the father supportive so far?”

You nodded, ignoring the tiny shred of fear that tried to squeeze it’s way up into your brain. “So far, yeah.”

But how long would that last? How long would Harry be interested in having dinner and hanging out? When would he get sick of you and when would he realize that he didn’t have to do this?

He had more options than either of you had mentioned. Harry was acting like his only option was to be completely, totally, one hundred percent involved, or the exact opposite. 

But you felt like the more realistic option was somewhere in the middle, right? He’d visit and have the baby for weekends, go off on tour and you’d FaceTime him every so often to make sure they didn’t lose touch. You’d be the one to handle the skinned knees and all of the tears, but he’d be the fun dad that would swoop in and get to take them for ice cream or out to dinner. 

He’d send a check, eventually. After things died down and he realized that it didn’t make sense for you to live together or be more than co-parents or anything like that. He’d help financially and you’d have to get a nanny if you were going to keep your job--which, as a single mom, you’d have to.

Simone brought you back to your office, smiling excitedly when you told Aarav the news, making them both promise to keep it quiet for now. You didn’t tell them who, you didn’t disclose the name of the guy who had suddenly lodged himself in a strange space in your heart and your head. Because if you did, you’d have to tell them you were also afraid he’d leave. And speaking that out loud was too much to handle.

**

Harry was a regular at Dr. Weston’s office, so much so that you found it a bit embarrassing how he knew the nurses by name and proclaimed proudly in the waiting room that he’d read every pamphlet they had. 

For someone who has to keep this pregnancy low-key, shouting excitedly in the waiting room is the opposite of that, you told him.

So he followed you back into the exam room yet again, but this time with a pout on his face after the nurse left you alone. 

“What’s your problem?”

He held a hand over his eyes to offer you privacy when you changed, the gown in his outstretched hand. “You don’t even care that I’m extremely well read.”

“One of those was a pamphlet about gestational diabetes--which I don’t even have.” You took the gown and stepped into it, tying it in the back before climbing up on the table. 

He took his hands away without even asking if you were clothed, rolling his eyes and making a face. “I’m just trying to care, okay? However will you forgive me?” 

You fought back the laugh that tried to crawl up from your belly. “I appreciate your caring. And your reading.”

“Good,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat back in his seat. “You should. Where do you want to go to dinner tonight?”

You thought on it for a second. “Know any good barbeque places? Some ribs sound so good.”

His eyebrows lifted, he watched you for a second. 

“What?” You asked, a sudden nervousness in your chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He broke eye contact for a second, let out a tiny laugh and then looked back up at you, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Just didn’t know it’d be that easy to get you to hang out with me.”

“Oh shut up,” you said with a laugh, adjusting on top of the sanitary paper. “I’m hungry. It’s almost dinnertime anyway.”

“The only bad news is that I don’t know a good barbeque place.”

“That is bad news,” you said. “There’s one near my house. We can just go there. Or--get take out,” you corrected. 

Okay, so maybe it bothered you a little bit. At this point, feeling like you were a secret and the baby inside of you was a secret was a recipe for feeling like a big, old, shameful one night stand that he probably regretted. But you weren’t about to tell him that. 

“Is Lexi home tonight?”

You nodded.

“We could invite Glenne and Jeff, too, if you want. Or it could be just us, that’s fine.”

You didn’t have a chance to answer, though you wanted to say either would be fine. Dr. Weston knocked and offered a smile, how are both parents feeling? 

She asked the same questions: new symptoms? Any bleeding? Mood? Appetite? Headaches? You answered and nodded along, listening to the advice she gave about any lower back soreness as you started to really gain some weight. 

When she had the ultrasound machine on and when you had laid back and assumed the position, Harry pulled his chair up to be right next to you.

“Definitely growing in there,” Dr. Weston smiled, reaching up to point at the screen. 

“Wow--she actually looks like a baby now.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Weston laughed a bit. “Less of a plum and more a baby.” But she turned, after that, her eyebrows furrowing at the screen before she looked at Harry again. “How did you know it’s a girl?”

“It’s a girl?” you asked, lifting yourself on your elbows to look at the screen closer. “How do you know?”

She turned the screen to show you better, moved the probe along your lower tummy. “Well--if she weren’t, we’d see something right there between her legs.”

“So I’m right?” He looked at you with wide eyes, a smug look of excitement on his face. “We’re having a girl?”

“You are,” Dr. Weston nodded. “I hope it’s okay that you know now.”

Harry clapped his hands together and stood from his seat. “I knew it, Y/N. I totally called it.”

“It’s fine that we know, we wanted to,” you assured her. Harry had already grabbed his phone, likely bragging to Jeff and Glenne that he’d been right. “Now I just have to deal with this know it all, now.”

“Well congratulations,” she removed the probe and clicked a few things on the screen. “Fourteen weeks and everything looks great.”

You smiled, sat up and looked over at Harry, he looked up from his phone and smiled at you. “S’a girl.”

“I know,” you nodded, voice quiet. 

Dr. Weston ducked out of the room quietly, saying she’d see you soon before shutting the door to offer privacy.

“Did you already tell everyone we know?”

“No,” he laughed, letting his phone call into his pocket. “Just my mum and sister.”

You hopped down from the table and he handed you your clothes. 

“Are you happy it’s a girl?”

“I’m happy she’s healthy, and that I’m healthy,” you laughed. “But yes--a girl will be fun.”

“We’d make anything fun,” he said, stepping forward to wrap his arms around your shoulders, the fabric of the gown was scratchy on your skin. You looked up at him, and for a second, you wondered how it would feel to kiss him.

**

Jeff’s mouth was wide open, he was still, a look of shock on his face as Glenne let out a laugh loud enough that the neighbor’s might complain.

“Don’t,” Harry groaned, his eyes pleading with you to not embarrass him any further. 

“They were expired?!” Lexi’s eyes were wide, she looked between the two of you from her spot on the floor, take out on her lap. “That’s fucked man.”

“I didn’t know they were, obviously!” He defended.

Glenne shrugged her shoulders. “Just getting laid that infrequently.” 

“Alright, s’not my primary residence.”

“So wait,” Jeff said. “When did you find this out?”

A drop in your stomach, the nervous kind like you’d said the wrong thing. 

“When she was over once for dinner. Gave her the grand tour and we obviously had to stop by the scene of the crime,” Harry borrowed the language you once used to describe his sprawling bedroom. 

“He can definitely cook but apparently he doesn’t read expiration dates,” you laughed.

“So it’s all your fault,” Lexi laughed, reaching for another drink. “Bet that was tough news.”

Your eyes flashed over to Jeff, curious to see his reaction. In a way, Lexi wasn’t wrong. Sure--you’d fed Harry the response that it’s no one’s fault, and yeah, okay, you could live with that being the agreement everyone settled on. 

But it was also nice to know that it wasn’t anything you did. 

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed himself up off the couch when his phone rang. “One day you’re all going to feel terrible for saying that when you’re in love with our baby. It’s John--I’ll take it outside.”

Jeff followed behind him when Harry signaled for him to, the back door to the patio and small yard slid shut behind them.

“How ya been doin’ lately?” Glenne asked, leaning forward to grab the glass of wine she’d been nursing. 

“Fine,” you said. 

“Yeah?” She eyed you skeptically, Lexi dunked her fork into her green curry. 

“I’m handling the stress and constant anxiety as best as I can,” you admitted.

Glenne pouted. “What are you anxious about?” 

You let out a sigh, hesitant to say anything that would make her feel in the middle. “I just feel like Jeff thinks I fucked everything up or did this on purpose.”

Lexi sipped at her glass of wine. “What makes you think that?”

“I dunno--every time we’re all together I feel like he wants me to maintain a six foot distance or something.”

“He can’t tell you what to do or how to interact with him, Y/N,” Glenned tried to reassure you. “All he can do is give advice or give his input.”

“What if his input to Harry is that he shouldn’t ever talk to me or see me?”

“Bitch, you outrank him!” Lexi sat up straight and looked at you like you were losing your mind. “He’s his manager, he’s a friend. You are the mother of that man’s child. You are going to push his baby through your coochie!”

You let out a laugh, threw her a sideways glance. “I mean, I don’t know if outrank is fair.”

Glenne held up a hand, trying to get her two cents in before Lexi went off again. “He’s not mad--I don’t know why you think he’s mad.”

“Okay--fine, he’s not mad. But do you really want to try to convince me that I’m his favorite person on the planet right now?”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Y/N--he’s stressed. His client got his girlfriend’s friend knocked up. This is all going to explode into a thousand crazy headlines and he’s trying to keep it all somewhat contained. He loves you.”

You let out a long sigh at that, looked through the sliding door and watched as Harry gestured wildly, the phone sat on the small patio table between them. Jeff laughed at something he said and sipped at the beer that Harry was undoubtedly jealous of. 

Jeff had always thought you were funny. You knew that. When you got a good amount of tequila in you, you were no stranger to comedy or outrageous accents with Lexi and Glenne. Jeff would laugh his head off and there was even one time he made you drunkenly take obnoxious snapchat selfies with the stupid filters. It was probably the highlight of your relationship. 

So that night, after dinner was eaten and Netflix was watched, you tried to harness the courage that Lexi and Glenne had instilled in you. 

When Jeff came out of the bathroom, Glenne pulled herself up from a couch, a dramatic groan escaped her mouth when she smiled over at you and stretched. “Alright, my dear. Eat well, sleep well, take care of that sweet little muffin.”

“Okay,” you nodded. “So far, so good.”

Lexi had already retreated to her room, beauty sleep, y’all. Jeff waited as Glenne put her wine glass in the sink, hands on his hips. “Are you hitting the road too?”

His question was directed at Harry. He shifted on the couch. “Uh--might stay for a bit, if that’s alright?” 

Now he looked at you, and once again, you wondered if this sort of thing was allowed. An awkward look in Jeff’s direction, Glenne’s eyes were a bit wide, a smirk threatened to twist her lips into a full blown smile. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking around at all of them. “S’fine.”

You were all for following the rules and doing what you needed to do to protect everyone. But something about watching another episode of The Office on Netflix with the father of your child felt pretty safe. And maybe Glenne was right. Maybe you did outrank him. And if you didn’t, maybe one day you would. 

“Alright, well, we’ll see you both at some point in the next week, I’m sure.”

“Are we on for Saturday night still? With Tom?”

“Yeah,” Jeff said, watching as Glenne grabbed her purse from the counter. “I’ll text you.”

They said their goodbyes and headed out the front door, when it clicked into place you looked over at Harry. 

“Would you actually tell me if Jeff hated me?”

“Why would he hate you?”

“Because you got me pregnant.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” he shook his head, a smile tugged at his lips. “S’my fault, remember?”

“He might not see it that way.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “I just know.”

“How do you know?”

“Trust me, I would know if he hated you. He’s a terrible liar. He’d never be able to hang out with you if he didn’t like you.”

You were quiet, looked back down at the remote in your hands and picked at the skin around your thumb. 

He turned himself towards you on the couch, his voice quiet in the living room. “Why are you nervous about that?”

You shrugged, trying to fight back a smile. “I’m still trying to get over the whole fear about ruining your life.”

He rolled his eyes at that, a laugh escaping his lips when his arm reached up to the back of the couch. “You’re ridiculous! I can tell you a thousand times and you won’t believe me.”

“Probably not.”

“You didn’t ruin my life.”

“Okay.” You stood from the couch and moved towards the kitchen, bringing the glass that Lexi had left behind over to the dishwasher. 

He followed behind, watched with narrowed eyes as you tried to tidy. “I mean it,” he laughed. 

You turned around, hands on the counter as you looked at him. It was late, the light in Lexi’s room was off, you hoped she didn’t have her ear pressed up against the door. Mostly because you didn’t want her to hear what you said next. 

“I just don’t want you to leave.”

He took a step forward, brows furrowed. “Tonight?”

“No--like, in general.”

His lips parted at that, a pause before he sighed, another step forward. 

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to be weird. I’m just--scared sometimes.”

“I know,” he was close now, his chest almost pressed against yours. His fingers reached up and tugged at the hem of your shirt, “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded, stared down at the floor now as if looking up in his eyes would somehow make it more risky. As if ignoring the fear and the doubt and everything that bubbled inside of you when you tried to get your mind off of it would keep you safe, keep her safe. 

His hand nudged at your chin, lifted it up so you had to look at him. Something in his eyes felt promising--or maybe it was the way you felt his lips curl into a smile once they were pressed against yours.

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

**author’s note: **FINALLY!!!!! No but really, thank god. It’s been tough to wait to share that with you. Things are finally heating up in here! You know I’m a fucking sucker for a slow burn.

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila @mell-love @anssu-amry @yelllowgrass @littlesoldierelleora @styles217 @rachkon @c-h-e-r-r-y-y @myhat  @rosegoldbel @passionate-dreamerr @grammyforstyles @haute-romance-quotidienne @dontgiveupthedayjob @ursamajor603 @craic-head-horan @heavenspidey @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry @blackxxmagicc @winter-soldier-007 @ssllbb @wanderlustiing @jdcharliewhiskey  @caritocp @kaybee87 @wildbeee @hsunflowervol @harrys-medicines @tobe-sogolden @theresnooneheretosave @1d-tommo5 @soullikestyles @mrsfstyles  @you-youneverdo @fstopsteph @cock-a-doodely-doo @hinaesthethicc @s-u-t @mleestiles @rubytersteege @heartsandwheels @rainbowparadiseharry @ainatirb-j @sing-me-a-song-harry @g0bl1nqueen @mmithharold @harrymfingstyless @yourpolaroid07 @zarrysfineline @cronias13

[samayla]

Writeblr Challenge Day 25

Self-promo time! Share a snippet from your main WIP that you’re proud of.

I'm not usually a snippet sort of person, at least not when it comes to my original stories, but here goes nothing... This is from the opening chapter of Magpie Grace. Incidentally, it is the same scene for which I shared the outline a little while back. I think it rather perfectly conveys the flavor of the whole story. Enjoy!

“It’s not fair!” Forrest roared, slamming his meaty fist on the table hard enough to rattle the teacups in their saucers. Magnolia tensed but forced her face to remain neutral. The fairy, a golden-skinned ambassador from the Starspire, just cocked her head and drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the scarred tabletop.

Too many fingers with too many joints.

Forrest shuddered slightly and subsided, settling back into his chair.

“I beg your pardon on behalf of my companion,” Magnolia offered, determined not to stare at the fingers as the fairy steepled them beneath her chin. She was clearly amused by Forrest’s discomfort, but Magnolia was determined to remain calm, to find some way of salvaging this situation. It was her job. She topped off the fairy’s cup with more cream, warmed through and cut with bitter tea in the custom of the Starspire. Spirefolk were known more for their creativity than their mercy, and Magnolia desperately didn’t want the fairy to get creative to deal with Forrest’s outburst. “Forrest is overwrought,” she said soothingly. “The suddenness of recent events has taken its toll, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

The fairy just cocked her head the other way, jewel-bright eyes still fixed on the angry, uncomfortable miller. Magnolia sipped at her cream to allow the fairy time to process the situation, and she prayed she’d come down on the side of mercy for his outburst.

Finally, the fairy took a sip of her own cream. “Strange notions of ‘fair,’” she said. A forked tongue darted out to catch a drop that lingered at the corner of her mouth before she continued. “The same punishment for all is fair, I think. Your companion’s husband stole grain from my lady’s field. A year and a day in that field is the punishment. How fair to release his beloved, and yet hold the others to the fullness of their sentence, hmm?”

“Then release the others,” Forrest cried, throwing himself forward once more, and Magnolia considered killing him herself. He was going to get them both into serious trouble if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He ignored her warning nudge beneath the table. “Free all your bloody scarecrows and let them return home! They have loved ones too!”

The fairy blinked. “They stole from my lady’s fields, knowing full well the punishment that has stood for a thousand years.” She turned to Magnolia, amber eyes narrowed in perplexity. “It is known, is it not?”

“It is taught to our children,” Magnolia confirmed. Forrest shot her a look of utter betrayal, but she ignored it. It would cost more than either of their lives were worth to lie to a fairy outright, especially one who had condescended to negotiate a standing agreement like this. Everyone in Haven knew not to steal from Shiara’s fields, but that didn’t stop the handful of thrill-seekers who’d take a drunken dare to hop the creek, pick an ear of corn or a head of wheat, and inevitably get caught. The Starspire side of the creek was near constantly studded with the scarecrows these trespassers became. Magnolia shuddered to think of what lying about it would earn her.

The fairy hummed and peered around the cluttered room, then out the window, which looked out on an alleyway bustling with Midsummer revelers along the narrow canal. “The people of Haven do not go hungry,” she murmured. “They do not suffer from lack of food, shelter, warmth… The treaty ensures continued commerce and goodwill between our peoples. Anything your hearts desire can be had from us, if you are willing and canny enough to offer a fitting price.” She sipped at her cream again, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I can see no reason for theft, except to offer insult.” The fairy sat up straighter then, and the look in her eyes hardened into pride, sharp and dangerous. “It is not ‘fair,’ I think, to ask my people, who already provide so much, to bear such insult upon a mortal’s whim. Not fair by any definition.”

The color drained from Forrest’s face. “Magnolia…” he breathed, but there was nothing she could say to challenge the fairy’s declaration. She’d told him as much when he’d first come to her for help. The rules were the rules, and the fact that Forrest didn’t like them, didn’t change them. When Magnolia remained still and silent, Forrest slumped at last, all the bluster going out of him in a rush. He collapsed to the table, his face in his hands.

The fairy just watched him, her gaze softening to puzzlement once more as she took in every detail of his body language and his muffled sobs. She did not seem inclined to either leave or cause mischief as she slowly finished off her cup, so Magnolia watched warily as well. “This is more ‘overwrought,’ I think?” the fairy asked at length.

“It is,” Magnolia confirmed carefully.

“Messy,” she commented, as if she were remarking on the weather. “When does it stop?”

“It is usually best remedied by a loved one.” Magnolia was treading dangerous ground, but the ambassador seemed genuinely interested in understanding, and though Forrest’s case was a lost one, that didn’t mean Magnolia couldn’t sew some seeds for future change.

“I see.” She stared a few moments more, before understanding flared in her eyes. She set her cup down carefully, as though trying to decide whether she dared voice whatever conclusion she had just come to. “We have discussed fair,” she said slowly. Forrest raised his head but remained miserably silent. “Fair is no comfort to you, I think.”

Forrest shook his head, but his back straightened, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. The hope radiating off of him was palpable. He was only able to see a possible reopening of negotiations, but Magnolia knew better. She’d miscalculated. She wasn’t sure how it would go yet, but she knew she probably wasn’t going to like it. She put a hand on the miller’s arm in silent warning.

“You do not dispute the law,” the fairy continued,” and yet the law brings you no comfort. You are overwrought still. Being reunited with your husband would bring you comfort, I think?”

“Oh, yes,” Forrest gasped, shaking off Magnolia’s hand.

“You wish to be returned to his side?”

“Forrest, a year and -”

But Forrest was already nodding eagerly. “Yes! More than anything!”

And then Forrest was gone.

On the table before her stood a remarkably large crow. Magnolia sighed. “A year and a day then?” At least he no longer appeared to be overwrought.

“A year and a day,” the fairy murmured in assent, rising from her seat.

[viktorhargreves]

some thoughts i have on the s2 promo stills

I think Ben is appearing either in a dream or to someone other than Klaus. The reason I believe this is the color composition for the shot and the framing. The Umbrella Academy is a dark show. Literally. And the season two promo pictures are no different from season one. Why the sudden departure from this? Promotional photos directly from the source (i.e. the production department) usually are not put through filters so this is how it will be shown in the show. So why the brightness? I think it’s either a dream or revelation (you know the cheesy trope where the sunlight streams in and someone finally pieces things together) or maybe it’s a vision that someone has of Ben. Contenders for this? No idea. But judging from the body that’s strung up on the ceiling (yeah, I didn’t forget that part) it could be Vanya. Or I could be totally wrong. Either way, the body does hint towards Klaus’ telekinesis, something he has in the comics that we have yet to see in the show (besides the suitcase debacle). 

We know that Five is the last to be sent to the 60′s so if he’s stuck in a new time with no one around what does he do? Find a mannequin and make a new friend (or something more). Maybe what we are seeing is him about to home-wreck this bitch and steal little miss blue-dress here. Or maybe he’s looking back at a different character... the villains of this season perhaps? Or maybe The Handler makes a comeback? Either way, he looks cautious and if he is looking at someone less than savory then the set up we see could be set up to mock him rather than a harmless department store display.

The paper reads: “S.J.C.C. asks... Have you experienced DISCRIMINATION by your employeer?” Not much comes up in Google for a look into who S.J.C.C. could be but I personally am SYKED to see The Umbrella Academy hopefully tackle race issues. Especially at this time in the world, it could be what people need. Also a new hairstyle for Allison which I love. I personally hope Allison is thriving but this is the 60′s and even though The Civil Rights Act was signed in ‘64, there was no across-the-board stop of segregation at once. I hope for her sake she stays safe.

Again, we know that Five is the last one to arrive. Perhaps he gathers them all to this place to tell them about the newest apocalyptic event about to take place. But a barn? Not sure why. Everyone else is dressed in back, however, even Klaus which is very telling that something is wrong. Allison has lost the hair bump (she was probably just wearing it to fit in). Luther has a beard which is very telling as well because the only other time that we have seen him with one is when he woke up from his surgery (supposedly after a long period of time) so if it was in his control he would shave it off to be the good little soldier that dad made him. Maybe being stranded in Texas in the 60′s made him depressed like we saw towards the end of season one or maybe he just wants to live a little. Diego’s outfit looks very similar to his vigilante outfit in season one but with what looks like either shoulder pads or a hoodie. This could be one of two things: he is still a vigilante using his powers for good, or he works a job like construction or something similar judging by the cross-chest harness. And Vanya. Look’s like she’s wearing a suit jacket. Peak gay. No further comment. 

GOOD GOD!!!  What to say, what to say. As it’s been pointed out already by many other users, Ben. Is. Holding. Keys. That means he is corporeal and has a physical body. Whether this is for a short period of time like when he punches Klaus in season one or if this marks the beginning of a new era of Ben-filled The Umbrella Academy is unknown. Klaus is a fashion icon. That much we been knew. Although, his beard is longer than the promo pictures despite being in the same outfit. Longer than the picture above too. I’m excited for this scene regardless of what it is about, but if I had to guess: Klaus is motioning for Ben to give the keys to him. The car broke down. Klaus gets out and tries to fix it by popping the hood, only he knows nothing about cars. He gets angry and throws the keys. Ben catches them. Klaus is then irritated and asks for them back. That’s just my take. Klaus looks like he’s smiling but it could be the natural face a person makes when they are squinting from the sun (this is Texas and those are sunglasses (also water is wet)).

#justgirlythings. Vanya is the only one who seems uncomfortable, also where are Klaus’s shoes? If you look in the background it appears this isn’t a salon as you would guess on the first look but rather someone’s house. Maybe this is a way to time travel without Five? Or some other sci-fi device like the shoot that Cha-Cha and Hazel used in season one to get their orders. Either way, there is a lot more going on here than we know from first looking and I wouldn’t put it past anyone that this is an important still to remember and keep in mind.

Iron Man references aside (thank you Justin Min), look at her entire body posture and language. Clenched jaw, clenched fists, forehead straining, eyes closed but not clenched like the others, neck straining. Vanya appears to be in the middle of nowhere so maybe she’s testing her powers? Last time we saw her testing her powers it was in the middle of the woods with Leonard so maybe this will be a good parallel. What else to do in the 60′s when you’re stranded than to try out your superpowers that you just remembered a few days ago?

Vanya! Is! Happy! She is definitely smiling and looks genuinely more happy than she did with Leonard in any event. The blonde woman is Marin Ireland who plays a character “Sissy”. Variety and Netflix have stated that Sissy is "a fearless, no-nonsense mom from Texas who married young for all the wrong reasons". Maybe, and I’m just spit-balling here, she married young because of internalized and outward homophobia that is probably rampant in the 60′s and in Texas. She meets Vanya and the two begin a relationship. Friends? Lovers? More? Vanya’s right hand is either on a gear shift (manual transmission i.e. stick shift cars were much more common in the 60′s than now) or on Sissy’s knee. I like the idea of her resting her hand on Sissy’s thigh and smiling, maybe driving off on a new life together. 

Like. The Gang’s all here, Scoob. Even Ben! Allison is talking, it seems so to have Ben in the shot is odd. Usually Ben only appears when Klaus is the main character of the shot or the scene since he can only see him. Except, maybe everyone can see him!! Klaus can summon Ben as seen in the season one finale so maybe he was able to do it for a longer amount of time. I personally really hope that we see more of Ben (which the stills lead me to believe) and that they will develop not only his character and backstory more but his powers as well. His power rivals only Vanya’s is sheer amount of destruction it can cause. The room, however, where they all are looks unassuming. It could be where Five has taken up a residence, could be a house of one of the other siblings (we know that some of them did in fact settle down and start lives in Texas), or maybe it’s just a safe place to meet as a team. Either way I am psyched!

It’s safe to assume that these are the assassins. Whether they are with the organization that The Handler was with is unclear. What is clear is that I get Stranger Things vibes from these guys. It might be the white hair and dark, cloudy road. Either way, these guys are played by Tom Sinclair, Kris Holden-Ried, and Jason Bryden left to right and they play Oscar, Axel, and Otto respectively. 

Diego, Diego, Diego. My son. Disregarding the long hair and beard completely because I refuse to acknowledge it at this point, here is my interpretation of the scene. This is a flashback in the same fashion that we had a Diego flashback in episode three of season one. That flashback had Grace helping Diego through a stutter and then in one camera motion showed current-day Diego sitting on his old bed. This could be the same kind of thing, with current-day Diego sitting where he past self was and watching a scene unfold around him. Why else would he be in his uniform? How could it fit? How could he be back in the mansion?

-----------

That’s all I have to say about it for now but my ask box is OPEN for theories, possible explanations, or hypotheses on season two or any of the promotional stills. Time travel is messy. Let’s see what happens on July 31st.

[dansedan]

HAPPY APRIL FOOLS DISCO ELYSIUM COMMUNITY HERE IS MY BOLERO/LATIN POP HARRY DU BOIS PLAYLIST FUCK YOU PAY ME 

(liner notes and English lyric translations under the cut, listen-along with the playlist!)

(warning, LONG LONG post)

BOLERO ELYSIUM:

1.       No Soy Nada- Harry mourning over Dora.

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

My love, how I would like to have you with me

Turn back the clock and feel your heartbeat again

My love, how I wish not to be alive for today

And that you can be born again, walk your way

 [Chorus]

And sorry for crying at your feet, unable to see your face

For the sake of both of us I’ll leave, if it’ll make you smile tomorrow

And now I know that I do not do you as well as I imagined

It is not me that you should love because I am nothing

 [Verse 2]

My love, I never meant to be bad, I swear

And as much as I tried and improved, it is not enough for me

 [Chorus]

And sorry for crying at your feet, unable to see your face

For the sake of both of us I’ll leave, if it’ll make you smile tomorrow

And now I know that I do not do you as well as I imagined

It is not me that you should love because I am nothing

 It’s a good, simple angst chanson. Very accurate for a drunk idiot mourning over a relationship and self-flagellating.

 2. Te Fuiste a Tiempo- battle-tested relationshit/partner-divorce

Translated lyrics:

[INTRO]

You could’ve killed me like this,

So cruel and merciless

 [Verse 1]

You left on time

Because you were starting to be a necessity

How lucky was I

When fate gave me my freedom

 You left on time

Because I was beginning to understand that you were a disguise

And with the cynicism of a mirage

You asked for one more kiss

 [Chorus]

I hung a sigh from the spark of your hair

Like a comet that knew it was going to the ground

I gave you my wings when I was just taking off

I gave you everything and even neglected myself

 [Post-chorus]

You could kill me (Ah, ah, ah)

So cruel and slow (Ah, ah, ah)

But it was better ...

You left on time

 (The ra ra ra ra ...)

 [Chorus]

I hung a sigh from the spark of your hair

Like a comet that knew it was going to the ground

I gave you my wings when I was just taking off

I gave you everything and even neglected myself

 [Post-chorus]

You could kill me (Ah, ah, ah)

So cruelly and slowly (Ah, ah, ah)

But it was better ...

You left o-o-o-on time

 From the point of view of both of them!!! fucking insane dudes. It’s an April fools playlist of boleros so I am not going to pretend to have nuance here they are pining cheesily. Jean and “I gave you my wings when I was just taking off/I gave you everything and even neglected myself” makes me see red. Plus the idea of Very Soppily switching Jean’s attempts at having Harry… Not Do What He’s About To Do as “one last kiss” is. Soppy and amazing ok shut up.

 4.       El Último Trago- the bender of apocaliptic proportions

Translated lyrics:

Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink we’ll leave

I want to see what forgetting you tastes like

Without putting your hands over my eyes

 Tonight I'm not going to beg you

Tonight you're really going to go;

How hard it is to have to leave you

Without feeling that you no longer love me

 The years have taught me nothing

I always make the same mistakes

Yet again toasting with strangers

And crying over the same pains

 Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink, kiss me

Let’s hope there are no witnesses

Just in case you were embarrassed

 If one day we accidentally meet again

Do not bend down or speak to me directly;

Let us simply shake hands

And let the people murmur after

 The years have taught me nothing

I always make the same mistakes

Yet again toasting with strangers

And crying over the same pains

 Drink this bottle with me

And after the last drink we’ll leave...

 It’s the LAST DRINK hah see what I did there but also it’s a song about the foibles of drunkenness and drunken romantics so it’s very apt for harry trying to drown his Dora-related sorrows in alcohol. Poor mans. Also Dolores does just mean “pains” in here but. Dolores…

5.       No Soy de Aquí Ni Soy de Allá- Amnesia (hah, get it. Geddit. Yes this is mostly here because of the name but LOOK THERE’S MORE)

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

I like the sun, Alice and the doves

good cigars and bad ladies

Jumping walls and opening windows

And when a woman cries

I like wine as much as flowers

And rabbits, but not tractors

And homemade bread and the voice of Dolores

And the sea wetting my feet.

 [Chorus]

I am not from here, neither from there

I have no age nor future

And being happy is the color of my identity

 [Verse 2]

I like to always be lying in the sand

To chase Manuela on my steed

For all the time, to see the stars

With Mary in the wheat field

 [Chorus]

I am not from here, neither from there

I have no age nor future

And being happy is the color of my identity

 [Verse 3]

I like the sun, Alice and the doves

good cigars and bad ladies

Jumping walls and opening windows

And when a woman cries

 Okay so hear me out: the stupid boiadero rugged macho man listing shit he likes to seem cool? So good for early amnesia Harry. This has Raphael Ambrosius Costeau written all over it. The mild mysoginy is only the cherry on top but all the random-ass nonsense lines that are just there to sound cool is perfect for Harry just. Saying shit and seeing if it sticks. Also the song bops so it’s here. Also like… “bad ladies” = klaasje thirst, “Jumping walls and opening windows” = the jamrock shuffle, “I like wine as much as flowers” = commodore red, forget-me-nots, “the sea wetting my feet”= Martinaise… ey? Ey? Ey?? Am I saying Jorge cafurne predicted disco Elysium? I don’t know but I’m sure saying SOMETHING. Also this would be a great ARB karaoke song.

 6.       Diez pasos hacia tí- getting to know Kim

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Life left us crossed

In a very casual way

You came like the sun

Stealing my shadow gradually

 Any leak of light

Everything was a sign

Ten steps towards you

A thousand doubts over me

And the fear, naturally.

 [Chorus]

You made me tremble like that (You made me tremble like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To embrace your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh, ten steps towards you

Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh

 Any leak of light

Served as a signal

Ten steps towards you

A thousand doubts about me

And the natural fear

 You made me tremble like that (You made me tremble like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To embrace your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 You made me shake like that (You made me shake like that)

Like the moon over the water

And then I let go (And then I let go)

To swim in your gaze

And that's how I discovered you (And that's how I discovered you)

But it was in a kiss that I met you

 Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh, ten steps towards you

Uh, uh-uh-uh-uh

 Okay so clearly they don’t kiss YET but. We’re keeping on the theme of being very very cheesy and romantic because this is a shitpost playlist so here is a song with some vibes of slowly allowing yourself to trust someone who takes a bit of darkness from your life. “any leak of light”, “you arrived like the sun”, sunrise parabellum… also I love Harry being weak for Kim so “you made me tremble like that” is just. Yes thank you.

 7.       Soy un Corpóreo y Dentro de Mí Hay una Actriz Recién Titulada Llorando -superstar cop

Translated lyrics:

[Chorus]

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

 [Post-Chorus]

And in the official photos

I appear smiling with the children of the place

And in the promo clips

The sobs that inhabit me cannot be heard

 [Verse 1]

The show must go on

Experts indicate that it is the best

Two out of three recommend it

For your daily use

 [Chorus]

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

I am a corporeal and within me

There's a newly graduated actress crying

 [Post-Chorus]

And in the official photos

I appear smiling with the children of the place

And in the promo clips

The sobs that inhabit me cannot be heard

 [Verse 2]

I have no other life than the one that sweats inside of me

And I don't want it to go, and I don't want it to go

It is that I have no other life than the one that cries inside me

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

 [Outro]

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

And without her I am nothing, and without her I am nothing

 OK SO THIS ONE IS HEAVY but for both the tentatively-affectionately-titled “terminal cop brain” that Harry (and Kim and Jean) suffer as well as a touch of his internal struggle with his own self-hate and depression AND Dora shit it is here. Superstar cop just needs to buckle up his disco belt and bring down the law (no he doesn’t he needs a lot of real actual help but uh. Okay harrier.)

 8.       Lo Mal que Estoy y Lo Poco que me Quejo- the jamrock shuffle around Martinaise

Translated lyrics:

[Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

 [Verse 1]

I always get up with my foot looking at the ground

The mute voice greets me from afar

He gives me his silence but I play the idiot

Looking in the mirror

 [Verse 2]

And the mirror gives me its reflection without mine

I assume it and I continue but I do not trust myself

I self-diagnose without even minimal success

And so I get depressed

 [Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

I have my soul in quarantine and my body is broken

What pain, what pity and what torment

 [Verse 3]

I go out to the sidewalks, my walking out of tune

My suitcase full of boulders

My smile upside-down from climbing so many stairs

Without getting anywhere

 [Verse 4]

And history criticizes me because I'm always grieving

And I tell them ‘poor is he who hides his crying’

A brick doesn’t know how to cry

But it doesn’t follow a beat well either

 [Chorus]

How bad I am and how little I complain

How bad I am and how little I complain

I have my soul in quarantine and my body is broken

What pain, what pity and what torment

 [Bridge]

And how my whole life hurts

And the doctor has told me

That calls into question the truest truth

That I'm late to the niche

And that to each new pain I look for a placebo

 [Outro]

My donkey, my donkey's love hurts

Because nobody loves him, only me

And grief greets me when I'm laughing the most

My heart is full of patches

My donkey, my donkey's love hurts

Because nobody loves him, only me

And grief greets me when I'm laughing the most

My heart is full of patches

Chin pon!

 Is this not the most perfect song for the absolute insanity of mr. Du Bois? First, the catchy fucking tempo, let us enjoy how splendidly jaunty it is. Amazing. Then, all the stuff about the mirror, ESPECIALLY “And the mirror gives me its reflection without mine/ I assume it and I continue but I do not trust myself”. Also the line “And history criticizes me because I'm always grieving/And I tell them ‘poor is he who hides his crying’” feels so much like an argument between Harry and skills over Dora shit… this song is also just a bop.

 9.       Algo Contigo- falling in love with Kim (which is a canonical event fuck you)

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

Do I need to tell you

That I am dying to have something with you?

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer get close to your mouth

Without desiring you in a crazy way

I need to control your life

To know who kisses you and who shelters you

 [Verse 2]

Do I need to tell you

That I am dying to have something with you?

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer continue spying

Day and night, guessing when you’ll arrive

I don't even know with what innocent excuse to pass by your house, oh-oh

I have so few roads left

And although it may seem like a folly to you

I would not want to die without having something with you

 [Verse 3]

Do I need to tell you

That I'm dying to have something with you, oh

Have you not noticed

How much it costs me to be your friend?

I can no longer get close to your mouth

Without desiring you in a crazy way

I need, baby, to control your life

Know who kisses you and who shelters you

I have very few roads left

And although it may seem like a folly to you

I would not want die without having something with you

 [Outro]

(Something with you, something with you)

baby, I wouldn't want to die without having (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

Sad the fate that awaits me without being able to get to know you (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

There is no excuse, there is nothing I have to lose

(Something with you)

Like a slave (Something with you)

A slave forever, I wouldn't mind being

(Something with you)

Eternally slave (Something with you)

Girl, I wouldn't want to die without having (Something with you)

Something with you (Something with you)

Sad is the fate that awaits me without being able to get to know you (Something with you)

 Okay so for one it’s pretty clingy as a romance song so it’s already perfect. We’re choosing to ignore it’s sung to a woman shhhh but look, okay. “I can no longer get close to your mouth/Without desiring you in a crazy way” is one of my favorite love song lines ever because I’m that brand of idiot but LUCKILY SO IS HARRY DU FUCKING BOIS OKAY so it makes me think of… devastatingly cool smoking Kim. I laughed a lot at the way “Day and night, guessing when you’ll arrive” paralleled a lot of my friends’ testimonies of getting really bummed out that Kim left with the body and they couldn’t hang out with him anymore. Also the sort of desperate air of “I have so few roads left/And although it may seem like a folly to you/I would not want to die without having something with you” also pings really nicely with Harry’s state of mind and inexperience and the assumed (reasonable lol) reaction that Kim might have at figuring out about this very unstable man’s pining after him. I almost had a different version of this song but despite the cheesiness of this rendition I like the way the ending lines devolve into… even more desperation. You go to therapy Harry, maybe you’ll get to smooch Kim if that works out…

4.       Ya Sé- the final dream with Dora.

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

I know ... that you don't want to see me, I already know

That you are tired of my way of loving

That you don’t understand me and my jealousy does you wrong

That my caresses no longer shine on your skin

And that my nights are full of anxiety

 [Verse 2]

I know ... that you're with someone else, I already know

That you are calm and that you do not plan to return

That he has everything that he could never be

What are you saying that I have no dignity

That you don't care if I'm well or if I'm bad

 [Chorus]

Oh Love! Sorry if I call you to hear your voice

Sorry

I know you’re hating me

I'm leaving now! I want you to know something:

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 [Verse 2]

I know ... that you're with someone else, I already know

That you are calm and that you do not plan to return

That he has everything that he could never be

What are you saying that I have no dignity

That you don't care if I'm well or if I'm bad

 [Chorus]

Oh Love! Sorry if I call you to hear your voice

Sorry

I know you’re hating me

I'm going now! I want you to know something:

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 [Outro]

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

My heart fled, it left, I lost it on your lips

 Okay so the final dream kicked me in the emotional nuts and this is such a fucking fitting song. I mean, the phonecall had already killed me pretty hard, and the idea of Dora’s voice being so stuck in Harry’s mind that he can immediately react is… it’s a lot. I like the lip imagery here too bc I’m a slut for parallels between Kim and Dora, sue me. The self-flagellation and repetition and just… “ I know what you’re feeling but I don’t care I’m feeling this about it”  is so very fitting for the two of them… I just think about it a lot…

5.       Ódiame- Jean again… Jean in Martinaise…

Translated lyrics:

Love, don't forget me

Please,

Hate me

 Hate me as a mercy, I beg you

Hate me without measure or clemency

Hate, I want, more than indifference

Because  resentment wants less than oblivion

 Hate me for mercy I ask you

Hate me without measure or mercy

Hate, I want, more than indifference

Because  resentment wants less than oblivion

 If you hate me, I’ll be convinced

That you loved me well, with insistence

But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 What is worth more, me, humble, you, proud

Or is it worth more, your weak beauty

Think that at the bottom of the burial pit

We’ll be wearing the same clothing

 What is worth more, me, humble, you, proud

Or is it worth more, your weak beauty

Think that at the bottom of the burial pit

We’ll be wearing the same clothing

 If you hate me, I’ll be convinced

That you loved me well, with insistence

But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 But keep in mind, according to experience,

That you can only hate that which you love

 OKAY SO THIS ONE IS JUICY AS WELL… the whole theme of hate vs forgetting is very directly a Harryjean dynamic but. Please consider the way that this song is very directly interpretable as Jean just. Straight up going into bargaining over the harry amnesia thing. Like, fuck, even if you’re gonna keep being a horrible abusive asshole and pushing me away, at least don’t go an forget me. WHAT A KICK IN THE FUCKING NUTS. Also love the Broderbund bullshit with “Think that at the bottom of the burial pit/We’ll be wearing the same clothing” because. Cop Angst and their equality as partners is Important To Me. Also definitely calling out Jean’s entire being with “ you can only hate that which you love”

6.       Sí Po’- Inviting Kim to the 41st (gay)/post-mart domestica

Translated lyrics:

[Verse 1]

The stars aligned

You can't guess what happened

Do you remember that chore

That they had set me for today

 [Verse 2]

Yea, see, I managed to run it for tomorrow

I have all the time in the world for you

Mmm mmm mmm

Yea, see, just today that you are also free

We will have all the time in the world to do

Mmm mmm mmm

 [Pre-chorus 1]

It’s not like it was planned

Once it touches us

All the time giving up

Always going towards the crash

 Meeting deadlines that do not exist in practice

Fulfilling goals that you never set for yourself

 [Chorus]

"Let’s not go shopping, not today"

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

 [Verse 3]

The weight of the glue

It doesn't make sense if it's like this

Dying with the excuse (From!)

That there is no other way to live

 [Verse 4]

No, see, I want to spend more time with you

If a window opens I will take advantage of it

Mmm mmm mmm

Yeah, see, and now that you’re also free

We will have all the time in the world to do

Mmm mmm mmm

 [Pre-chorus 2]

More than enough

And I fully complain

But the time of the world

It's not that long either

 Meeting deadlines that do not exist in practice

Fulfilling goals that you never set for yourself

 [Chorus]

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

" Let’s not go shopping, not today " ("please!")

" Let’s not go shopping, not today "

You tell me and I’ll shop for you

 [Outro]

With you I have the impression of being safe

That you don't always have to be doing something

 LOOK. LOOK. I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE THE TROPE OF THESE TWO ACTING LIKE EMBARASSED TEENAGERS AND THIS IS MY SHITPOST APRIL FOOLS PLAYLIST SO I AM GOING TO THROW IN A COOL TEEN CRUSH SONG SHUT UP. I love the intimacy of just. Groceries for each other, “casually” making time for each other, it’s just the best. Also “But the time of the world/It's not that long either” is HNNG with full game spoilers but you know what. It is also sweet. Fuck you, they want to spend quality time…

7.       Tartar de estár major- literally just a terrible cheesy “things will be better OR ELSE” credits scene type song

Translated lyrics:

Tell that old story

That despite everything some things remain

The moments lived

Memories that will remain

Deep in the soul

Nothing can make you forget

That we walked the same path

And the things that we did

 It was because we wanted to be

Again in this place

Despite the mistakes

Despite the flaws and virtues

I keep in me the best

Moments that will remain

Deep in the soul

 abandon everything and think no more

You can not forget what you lived

And your loved ones

They miss you when you are gone

They don't want to cry for you

 Many times

we had to be apart

And feel that despite the distance

We feel the same as each other always

 Nothing can make you forget

That we walked the same path

And the things we did was because we wanted to be

Again in this place

 Do not overthink it more

There is always a reason

Trying to revive

Trying to be better

 Trying to be better

 A song about memories… and being loved and values… and surviving through those memories and that love in order to try to become a better person……. That’s all I’m gonna say….

[onyourzeus]

• with you | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: with you  pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you genre: flufffffff words: 2.9k

author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you

you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions

granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances

not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career

ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right

albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music

you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him

but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say

as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all

it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you 

this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other 

you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes 

when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment

dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you

so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him. 

(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)

you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…

flowers!! 

“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand

“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back 

it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long 

“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands 

“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him

but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment

“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is

“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long. 

you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time

he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics 

“thought you could get away with that huh”

and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection

you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here

“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works

but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way

one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about! 

you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist

he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something

“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response

“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”

“that’s…. a little gross, babe” 

sue you for missing him that much!!! 

but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing

you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand

but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes

it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them

and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way 

you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break 

but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat 

“were you even listening to what i said?” 

“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him” 

wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version 

he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor

“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”

“you just have that face” 

wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy” 

“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner” 

“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter

“i am.” 

there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form

since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room 

he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off

the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place

it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil

when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you

and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and

it’s such a sight to behold

nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead 

you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out

but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too

hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun

however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out

you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart

you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window

and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look

as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time

“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine

you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes

“mmm” is your response

“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner

before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him

and you can never get used to it, to him

“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart 

suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away

now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home

“what if we bake”

“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out

in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him 

“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”

“do you need my help then, wonpil?”

“yes pls “ :c 

so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team

you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference 

“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge

“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients

“... where’s the cheese”

“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge

“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for

“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients

now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride

you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit 

“i can mix this in—”

“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this” 

“but wonpil—”

“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you

“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing

he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl

and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in

that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame

and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess

you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed

and you just know you crossed the line

“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way 

“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious

and you actually love him more 

“yeah but i wanted to impress you”

if only you knew wonpil

“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly 

the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture 

taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs 

that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly

at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth

“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip

“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek 

you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence

the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face

“oh it’s on, wonpil”

“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin 

you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big

bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil

his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat

“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”

“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now

should he be turned on? threatened? 

he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate

“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there

taking in what just happened

so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter

fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to

share a bath together :) 

maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up

bath foam on his hair, on your nose

soapy kisses, the works

you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash

you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time

“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”

“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”

…”

“okay point taken”

you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven

the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly) 

“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him

“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already

he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food

the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise 

y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought

and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same

with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)

[taylorswiftdiscographyrate]

#90-81

90. Fifteen (7.125) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 4.4

I resent this song for lying to me about being fifteen. I did not have a cute senior wink at me on my first day of high school (though the fact that I’m Australian and the American high school hierarchy isn’t really a thing here might have something to do with that), I did not have my first kiss and feel like flying, and nobody told me they loved me so I did not have the opportunity to believe them. In conclusion:

Highlighted comments: @yourivysgrows: “Abigail gave everything she had 😭”

89. King of My Heart (7.128) Highest score was 9; Lowest score was 2.3

I absolutely love that this song got the full production on the rep tour, because she deserves it. Those drums! The only thing that could make that performance better if Taylor had had a drum-playing interlude of her own a-la Holy Ground on the Red tour.

Highlighted comments: @leadinmeon​: “there is a fucking weird drum sitch here” (RESPECT THE DRUMS)  @corneliaavenue​: “plastic cupppsss, next time please use more sustainable glassware taylor:/”

88. evermore (ft. Bon Iver) (7.137) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 4

I literally have no idea how this song goes. I really should listen to it more, but I kinda don’t want to? This is, in my opinion, the lesser of the Bon Iver collabs. One was enough, Taylor!

Highlighted comments: @leadinmeon: “idgi. like the first bit is gorg and the bon iver bit just comes out of fuckn nowehere. i don't like it” @yourivysgrows: “One of the ones I claimed but she's in the middle” 

87. ...Ready for It? (7.138) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 3

Listen... this song slaps as an opener, but it’s also kinda... funny. I can’t even explain why, it just feels so... not Taylor that it’s funny to hear it as one of her songs. I bop to it, but I do think it was a bit of a mess. Also, it had a bad and weird music video.

Highlighted comments: @treacherousdemo​​: “live version is a 10... the rep tour was on something else” (ok this i can agree with)  @corneliaavenue: “taylor clears her throat and you better listen to her!!!” @yourivysgrows: “I love the Liz Taylor reference”

86. The Other Side of the Door (7.172) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 2

All I can think of when I think of this song is the Australian fans begging for this to be a surprise song at one of the Aussie shows (particularly the Melbourne show), and Taylor stood on that stage and say “this is a song a lot of you have been requesting!”... and played I’m Only Me When I’m With You. She knew what she was doing, I’m sure of it!

Highlighted comments: @corneliaavenue: “the outro gave this song another 2 points” @liabilitys: “bonus points for the last verse” @yourivysgrows: “The ENDDDD” (honestly screaming at the outro being the only part of this song anyone wants to talk about)

85. Haunted (7.188) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 2

I’m flabbergasted at this being so low. Have you all listened to it?! Have you listened to the strings?! THE STRINGS?! This was my first “favourite” Taylor song, back when I only had a limited amount of iTunes credit and had to rely on the 30 second previews to decide what songs I wanted to buy, and the strings in Haunted immediately sold it to me.

Highlighted comments: @itspeterlosingwendy​: “i know other people love it... its not it though”  @corneliaavenue: “WHERE IS MY POP ROCK ALBUM TAYLOR?” @walte01​: “prefer the acoustic version” (I forgot there even was an acoustic version tbh) 

84. The Archer (7.206) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 1

Even though it’s not the lowest rated, I think this is possibly the most polarising Track 5. Seriously, there are people who really really love this song, and people who really really hate this song. I fall more towards the former - partly because this was the first song released from Lover that I actually liked, and because I think the lyrics show a more vulnerable and self-reflective side of Taylor that we hadn’t seen as much previously, even if those lyrics are a bit overreliant on cliches.

Highlighted comments: @leadinmeon: “this song is so boring my goddddddddd” @yourivysgrows: “An underrated track 5″

83. illicit affairs (7.209) Highest score was 9; Lowest score was 5

As a folklore stan, can I say that I found this song to be a bit... overhyped, at least on release? The bridge gets a lot of love, and the bridge does slap, but a song is more than its bridge, my friends! And the rest of the song that makes up illicit affairs is a bit underwhelming compared to the other masterpieces on folklore.

Highlighted comments: @leadinmeon: “this and invisible string are in the wrong order hehe. illicit affairs comes before invisible string on the album” (I’ve been exposed as a fake folklore stan 😔) @corneliaavenue: “bridge slaps, everything else is kinda boring” @yourivysgrows: “Favorite on first listen but she's been overshadowed a bit”

82. Better Than Revenge (7.219) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 2.6

As a shameless lover of Better Than Revenge, I’m delighted to see this not in the bottom 10. It-Girl of the moment Olivia Rodrigo stans Better Than Revenge, and so should we! Of course, it’s not the woke choice to love this song, but this has some of Taylor’s funniest and pettiest lyrics and I think we can all appreciate that. She was right! No amount of vintage dresses gives you dignity! Stealing other people’s toys on the playground won’t make you any friends!

Highlighted comments: @yourivysgrows: “A little problematic to some but don't steal? :/” @liabilitys: “the misogyny slaps” @leadinmeon: “the slut shaming is the only bad part of this song”

81. The Last Time (ft. Gary Lightbody) (7.228) Highest score was 10; Lowest score was 1

This was Exile before Exile was Exile! So to all the The Last Time haters out there who like Exile... learn to respect your elders. This randomly became a single and even got a promo performance on the X Factor for some reason?

Highlighted comments: @itspeterlosingwendy: “best on the album, and that's saying something since all too well is also on this” @liabilitys: “objectively this is a good song it just isnt my vibe as much as some others” @everfolk​: “Taylor please stop doing these kinds of collabs” 

[spnreactions]

15x15: Gimme Shelter

Alright guys! It’s time! 

Just a heads up, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, these posts usually come out later in the day, because even if I watch it live, I tend to do my reactions live, but then write up the full review later. In case you were wondering why the posts don’t usually come right away. 

Anyways! Let’s get down to it! 

Oof. Yep. We’re definitely on the serious track now, with a then like this. 

Also, I didn’t say this before, but I really love the “then” and “now” openings for this season. It’s beautiful with the Impala like that. <3 

Oof. Interesting flashback to Jack breaking out of the Ma’lak Box. 

...ew. Maybe it doesn’t taste as gross as it looks, but it looks gross. 

Jesus girls, chill. 

Okay, I already like the pastor. 

I’m watching live this week, and I’m in a FB group that’s commenting as we watch, and someone just pointed out that the pastor is Dr. Sexy MD!! Man I love when actors return like that. 

Ope. Connor’s gonna die. Poor kid. He seemed nice. 

...that teddy bear definitely wasn’t there when he was walking over before, but okay. 

UMMMMM...TALKING TEDDY!

NO THANK YOU!!! 

I HAVE A DOLL THING!!! NOT COOL!!! 

Hmmm...gotta be honest, I’m not sure how I’m feeling about Cohen’s directing on this one. :/

It had a talking teddy bear. I bet it is. 

Darkness. Nice pun. 

“He’s not that funny.” XD XD 

Dean you just want to go to Atlantic City whether Amara’s there or not don’t even deny it. XD 

Cas’s confused face will always be one of the cutest things ever. <3 

I love the way they’re all walking down the hallway together. It’s such a simple thing, but I like the way they’re positioned and everything. Point: Matt Cohen. 

SCENE FROM THE PROMO! 

Sure they can. 

“She and I used to have a thing” DEAN!! XD XD 

HIIIII JACK!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

Dude, let me tell you, I am so ready for some quality Cas and Jack content. 

I love all the different reactions here. Dean is trying to get Cas and Jack out of the house, which Jack is super excited about, and Cas is very not into. XD 

...wait, did they not tell him about Mrs. Butters? Or did they just not mention her name? 

Cas looking at Sam like “help me out here” and Sam being like “sorry but no”. XD 

Oh come on Cas. Look how excited Jack is! I love how enthusiastic he gets over every hunt. It’s adorable and I love him. (Yeah you’re gonna be hearing that a lot. XD)

Cas is like “you’re kidding me right?” 

“Highway to Heaven” XD XD 

THE SCENE!!

MY BABY IS SO EXCITED I LOVE HIS LITTLE SMILE AHHHH!!!! 

No matter how Cas is against going to deal with something so small fry when they’re in the middle of something so huge, he will still smile affectionately at his son, because he loves him. <3 <3 <3 

“Blue’s a good color on you.” XD XD <3 <3 

“Agent Swift.” XD XD XD XD 

“Agent Lovato.” I’M DEAD THESE TWO ARE THE BEST!!! XD XD XD XD

HE’S HOLDING HIS BADGE UPSIDE DOWN JUST LIKE CAS DID ON HIS FIRST HUNT I’M DEAD!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

A BABY YODA REFERENCE?! This show oh my god. XD XD XD 

“I just graduated from CSI.” JACK OH MY GOD YOU ADORABLE LITTLE BEAN!!! XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

Okay, I love watching Cas and Jack together, and I love watching them go on a hunt, but guys, could you at least TRY to be subtle? “Did you find tiny bags with chicken bones? Smell any sulfur? Feel cold?” Like, NO you two. XD XD 

The cop lady is just like “what the heck is wrong with these two?”

Oh. “Liar” isn’t a seven deadly sin thing. Maybe I was wrong about that. 

“For my stepson, Ronald.” JACK!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 I love him so much oh my god. 

For someone who’s new to hunting, that was actually an awesome cover. <3 <3 

Wait...speakers? Maybe it isn’t something supernatural after all? 

“Almost demonic.” Okay so that was a little more subtle. 

Okay Cohen, I take back what I said about your directing. That was a good shot of the stop sign. 

I love the way Jack’s sitting in the back of the truck. <3 <3 

Learning from Sam. <3 <3 <3 

Cas, there is no such thing as too many cats. His face when he says that though. XD 

THAT ENTIRE SEQUENCE ABOUT PARENT/GUARDIAN PERMISSION I’M DYING HOLY FRICK!!! XD XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

That was both the cutest and funniest thing ever and I just...I LOVE THEM AHHHH!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

I feel like Cas is upset though. Like, he’s extra frustrated with the whole Amara and God thing. Not that I blame him of course. He’s just got a certain...coldness to him in this episode. But I like how it disappears whenever he’s talking to Jack. <3 <3 Good acting on Misha’s part. 

For example, that little soft smile when he looks over at Jack logging in to the social media account is so sweet and so cute and so undeniably fatherly. <3 <3 

Okay, gotta be honest: British demon? Totally hot. 

"Why is he talking like that?” he whispers, very loudly in a way that the party he is speaking of can definitely hear him. XD XD <3 <3 

“Because Zack has style.” 

WAIT!!! 

He’s not ACTUALLY British??!! 

Oh my god that shouldn’t have made me laugh, but it TOTALLY did. 

AND he made the “Highway to Heaven” reference just like Dean did! 

I love this demon holy frick. XD XD 

Cas’s and Jack’s confused expressions at his sudden change. XD 

“I would watch that show.” XD XD 

How this show manages to introduce a new character, however brief, and give him so much personality when we’re six episodes from the end is beyond my understanding, but man, it is one of the many reasons I love this show. <3 

Ha! “Demons are get, humans are just crazy” ring a bell? 

Ha! Of course Rowena has that philosophy. God I miss her. 

“You’re a deviant soul corrupted by Hell.” Ah, Cas, ever quick with the logical wit. XD 

Cas’s “and we’re done”. XD 

Zack is so desperate. 

And now, Zack is all of us during COVID. XD 

I love Zack. Take him with you. XD <3 

Oof. Too true, Cas. Too true. 

Awww...Jack. 

AWWW! Cas!!! Knowing his son wanted to be busy and help people. I LOVE THEM!!! 

THOSE SMILES AT EACH OTHER OH MY GOD SO CUTE!!! <3 <3 <3 

She’s gonna steal the money. 

Yep. Classy lady. *eye roll* 

Ope. And now she’s gonna die. 

AHHHH!! 

OKAY I TAKE THAT BACK!! BRING THE TEDDY BEAR BACK!! SCARY MASK IS WORSE!!! 

My mom and I both screamed jesus christ. 

“Focused.” Interesting phrasing, but okay. 

I like the way this phone call is happening. The back and forth is cool, and I like their easy talk with each other. 

Dean can’t just give straight advice. Ever. “Drink the Kool-Aid and sign up.” XD 

Oof. Jesus. 

Clearly Dean wasn’t talk about the Amara thing. 

Wait, this was over a two-day timeline? Huh. Okay then. 

Dean that doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you stop. 

“Messengers of God’s Destruction”. 

No, but did any of us? 

“Least this time it’s not you or me.” Yeah, yet. 

That look Sam gives him means he had the same thought I did. 

Okay sorry, I am super not religious, and the God speak makes me want to barf. 

HA! JACK! XD 

See, this is why you have to give straight advice, Dean. I know that’s hard for you, being your chaotic bi self and all, but angels tend to take things literally, bud. XD 

Jack you dork. XD <3 

Geez girl. Be nice. 

Jack whispering again to try to be sneaky I love him. <3 

So that’s a yes then. 

Jesus. She’s a b***h. I don’t like her. 

That little head nod OMG!! <3 <3 

I LOVE THE CAS AND JACK TEAM UP THEY’RE SO CUTE!! <3 <3 

Oh. That was a sweet hug. 

My Mom: It’s him. It’s the pastor. He’s the bad guy. 

Oh! Greed! So this is a seven deadly sins thing! 

Ummm....that’s a little weird. Maybe this is as monster after all, with the tech working like that? 

But if it was a monster, why is she set up like that? 

Okay no, I take that back. I watch Criminal Minds, and this totally looks like something a serial killer would do. Especially the timer thing. 

“The new guy’s hot.” MEEEEE. That girl is me. XD <3 <3 <3 

EVERY. SINGLE. THING. JACK. DOES. IS. SO. STINKING. ADORABLE. <3 <3 <3 <3 

Boyfriend and girlfriend, I’m guessing? 

Awww...baby. :( 

Awww...Jack. :( :( 

Okay but, like, we’ve learned now, right? Don’t give her your whole story please and thank you. 

Oh okay. That’s okay. 

This girl is...off. Is it the acting, or is the character actually weird? I honestly can’t tell. 

Oof. Daddy issues alert. 

“I have more dads than most.” AWWW!!! XD XD XD <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

Wait baby no, you’re not letting them down stop that. :( :( :( 

Ew. “Put your trust in God, not people.” Now I hate her. Trust me honey, the last person Jack--or anybody, for that matter--should be putting his faith in is God. 

Oh okay then. 

Ha! I love Cas’s subtle little sass with the “faith-based community”. 

Oh. A.V. and tech. TV screen. Bingo. 

Yeah I don’t think it’s the pastor. He seems too innocent. 

...except he’s definitely not getting any father-of-the-year awards. But what else is new with this show. 

“It’s complicated.” What are you talking about?? Just say yes, Cas. 

Awww...soft side of Cas. <3 

Yeah no. It’s not the pastor. There’s no way. It must be that Brother Rudy dude. 

Ha! Awkward. XD 

That’s actually really nice. I like that idea, having a church community (sorry--faith-based community) helping other people like that. It’s sweet. 

Oh. Connor was gay. That honestly totally makes sense. Poor guy. :( 

I’m glad the pastor was accepting of him though! <3 <3 

Awww...that’s a good line. “A saint is a sinner who keeps trying.” 

I really hope it’s not the pastor. I like him. 

My Mom: Wait, have we just never seen them put gas in the car before? I had no idea it was behind the license plate! 

I’m thinking back and I didn’t know that either, so this must be the first time we’ve actually seen them, like, open it, and that’s HILARIOUS to me. XD 

OOOOH WAIT!! This is where they see Amara, according to the promo photos!! 

Oh heeeey girl. 

Wow she looks really pretty with that snow in her hair. 

She...she...smelled them? 

“You have a very distinctive musk.” “Thank you.” ARE THESE TWO STILL PINING FOR EACH OTHER? XD XD XD 

I like this Amara. She’s fun. 

My family and I always make kielbasa with our pierogis (I had no idea that that was how that was spelled, btw), so pierogis without the kielbasa feels wrong. XD 

Jensen’s facial expressions say so much all the time and I love it. XD 

Oh boy. 

NOOOOOO!

WHAT IS IT WITH SUPERNATURAL AND FINGERS ON THIS SHOW JESUS!!

Okay, WHO is the timer for?? Like, is it just some form of slow torture?? Because it’s not like it’s being shown to anyone other than her. 

Ooh. I like that he’s listing off all of the different names for God. Good pastor. Please don’t be a bad guy. 

HIS FAMOUS “hello” OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUUUUUUUUCH!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

...oof. Ummm....

Awww.... Poor baby. :( :( :( 

AWWW!! Dad Cas to the rescue!! <3 <3 <3 

Jack looking at his dad omg. <3 <3 

I already like this speech from Cas. I can tell it’s gonna be good. 

“I guess I found a family.” <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

JACK’S LITTLE SMILE!!! 

“And I became a father.” THERE IT IS!!! THERE. IT. IS!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

THE WAY JACK LOOKS AT HIM AFTER HE SAYS THAT AHHHH!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

AWWWW!!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 

GOOD SPEECH CAS!!! GOOD SPEECH!!! WAY TO MAKE YOUR SON FEEL BETTER!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 

Awww...I really like this pastor. <3 

FRIIIICK. 

Oh sh**. There’s the time for everyone else. 

JESUS!!!

Yeah okay. This is 100% a human being’s doing. A monster wouldn’t bother. 

Jack running over to turn it off right away. Ever the hero. <3 <3 

The pastor seemed too surprised to have done it, which, for me, puts pastor in the clear. Thank goodness. 

True, but also he sucks, so help us out Amara. 

Okay, I’m sorry, but quick side note. Everyone keeps saying he’s “very nearly done”, but when Dean looked in the telescope, he didn’t see anything. I thought that meant he was done. Unless it only reaches so far? I guess it probably only reaches so far in terms of other dimensions. 

Sure there is. 

“Our pal Jack.” That’s such a weird thing to hear him say, but okay. XD 

Also I’m not sure how I feel about them telling Amara about Jack. Like, I like her, and I feel like she’s gonna help, but what if she doesn’t? She could, whether intentionally or unintentionally, wind up seeing Chuck and mentioning Jack to him, and if she does, that ruins the whole plan. But, on the other hand, I guess they have to earn her trust, and keeping details from her would definitely make that harder. But I still don’t like it. It puts my baby in danger. Again. But anyways. 

Oh. Just like that? 

“I get he’s your brother” Dean says oh so casually, as if he hasn’t literally moved heaven and hell to protect and save his own brother. 

“Squirrely weirdo” XD XD 

Oh. The Big Bang. New theory. I like it. XD 

Sure he can. 

Ummm...yeah, Amara. You’re a fool. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. Maybe he cares about you a little, but definitely not as much as you’re giving him credit for. Not right now anyways. 

Wait...she actually said no? No way. I thought they were gonna be able to convince her. Guess my initial theory was wrong... What does that mean though? Like...what now? 

Jack’s gonna come slamming through that door, according to the promo. 

Called it! 

Wait...why did Jack slam through it while Cas is just...casually standing there? You’re an angel, Castiel. XD 

“Lust” It is based on “Seven”! I love it! 

Welp...guess it’s not him. 

Wait, so we are walking away with a no? That never happens to us! 

THERE we go. Go get her Dean. 

Is it just me, or has Sam been, like, really not involved this episode?? Jared’s had, like, six lines. XD 

OH! Okay, the “then” makes sense now. 

Oof. You tell her, Dean. 

That she sucks. That’s what she wanted. Because she does. 

Wait NO WAY! That’s what I said! Kind of, anyways. 

Woooow. That’s actually pretty messed up, Amara. But it makes sense for why Mary was such a terrible character and why I hated her so much. She is only human. A sucky human, too. 

Is it, though? 

“That you could finally start to accept your life.” Okay, that’s actually kind of cool, and that’s awesome on the writers’ part for adding in that explanation of why everything went the way it did. Nice. 

But also, that’s pretty messed up Amara. 

Oooh. We’re about to get some awesome Jensen acting, aren’t we? 

Jensen’s trying not to cry face is so incredible wow. 

Awww....poor Dean. 

Jesus Amara. A little sympathy? 

OOF. I love that quiet fury that Dean has. 

OOH! He got her! 

YES DEAN!!! TELL HER! 

“Well now who’s living in a dreamworld?” ...ouch. But true. 

...oh boy. That was a bold-faced lie. But so brilliantly told, Dean. 

After ALL THAT, you’re going to THINK ABOUT IT? Really??!! 

But hey! I KNEW IT!! BEAUTIIFUL acting moment on Jensen’s part!! AWESOME scene. <3 <3 <3 <3 

Oh! It’s the girl. I’m calling it. 

Yep. Daughter. 

I KNEW SHE WAS BEING WEIRD! 

See?! Super religious people are crazy!! 

Go Cas and Jack go! 

Ope. Cas is gonna heal, and Jack is gonna attack. Go boys go! 

Cas is gonna heal in front of all those people oof. 

Girl has ISSUES. 

Wow, this girl is WAAAAY too religious. Chill. 

Yeah, cause you need help. 

HEY!!! NOT COOL SYLVIA!!! 

Oof. Yeah nice try, but that’s not gonna work. 

I love how Jack just takes it and then heals all bada** like “yeah sorry but no”, but then he still looks up with the kindest and most innocent expression and I love it. <3 

Meanwhile Cas is like “yeah I’m not having any of this.” XD XD 

Does...does he always have to say sleep when he does it? Cause he didn’t used to, and for some reason, that was hilarious. XD 

Jack’s little nod. So cute. <3 <3 

Fixed her fingers, but couldn’t wash the blood off. XD 

Yeah ummm...how you gonna explain that one, Cas? 

At least pastor dude seems nice. And, like, being the good kind of religious, he’ll probably be totally cool with the angel thing. 

Wait, pastor dude is still processing this when morning hits? Okay then. 

“Not a very good one.” WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! You are literally the BEST angel, thank you very much. 

Man that girl is MESSED UP. 

And Jack still feels sorry for her, my baby. :( <3 <3 

Ah. Nothing like your daughter becoming a murderer for you to finally step into a proper role of fatherhood. 

WAIT A SECOND! IT’S ZACK!! 

Dude waaait. What does that mean?? That’s, like, a really random thing. Does that mean she’s gonna come back? Or that Zack is gonna come back? I’m not sure what that means. That seems so random! I DEMAND ANSWERS SUPERNATURAL! 

The way Cas looks at Jack after the pastor says that about looking after her better. Cas I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re the best father Jack could’ve asked for, okay? 

Awww! Cas and Jack talk time!! <3 <3 

Cas is trying so hard to help him I love him. <3 

NO YOU DON’T STOP!! THIS IS WHAT FAMILY IS FOR!! WHHHHYYY are all you Winchesters like this. 

Wait. WAIT! He was hiding something?! I hate it when Sam’s right. 

Wait WHAT?! 

HOLD ON!!! 

NOOOOO NO NO NO NO NO!!! NO! JACK NO!!! That is NOT ALLOWED!!! 

HOLD ON A SECOND!!! NO!!! THAT IS NOT WHAT I WAS EXPECTING WTF??!!! 

Wait wait wait. A bomb?? Like, just like S11?? Because no. No no no. We’re not doing this again. JACK YOU ARE NOT GONNA DIE WTF??!! 

THIS THROWS ALL OF MY THEORIES OUT THE WINDOW NOOOO!!! IT CAN’T BE JACK!!! I REFUSE!!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( 

WE JUST GOT YOU BACK!!! WE CAN’T LOSE YOU AGAIN!!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’(

Cas’s face is all of my emotional screeching right now. 

WHAT DO YOU MEAN “Don’t tell Sam and Dean.” ARE YOU KIDDING ME JACK??!! THESE ARE YOUR DADS!! THEY NEED TO KNOW!!! YOU CAN’T DO THIS!!! CAS WON’T LET YOU!!! 

JACK NOOOO!!! STOP IT WITH ALL OF YOUR GUILT! GOD you’re such a Winchester!! NO!! DEAN BAKED YOU A DANG BIRTHDAY CAKE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! YOU DON’T NEED TO DIE FOR HIM TO FORGIVE YOU!!! 

I’M HAVING SUCH A HARD TIME TYPING RIGHT NOW WTF IS THIS SCENE??!! :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( :’( 

Me too, Cas!!! 

SEE JACK??!! YOU CAN’T!! 

NO! WHAT IS THAT?! 

NO!! STOP IT!!! STOP IT YOU STUPID IDIOT NO!!! YOU CANNOT SACRIFICE YOURSELF LIKE THIS!!! THEY WON’T LET YOU!!! 

Cas tell Sam and Dean. Please.

Oh WAIT! We have, like, two minutes left craaap. This is the scene from the promo. Cas is gonna say Sam and Dean need to know something and then it’s gonna end. I’m calling it right now. 

YES CAS!! GO CAS GO!! SAVE YOUR SON!!! 

Yep. Here it is. It’s gonna cut off. 

GODDA**IT!! I HATE IT WHEN I’M RIGHT!!! 

WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME LIKE THAT SUPERNATURAL??!! You can’t just...DROP A BOMB like that and then NOT RESOLVE IT GOD DA**IT!! SCREW YOU WRITERS!!! 

AHHHHH!!! I NEED NEXT WEEK RIGHT NOW!!! AHHHHH!!! THIS IS SO NOT OKAY!!!! 

If I deny it ever happened, then it didn’t happen, right? Jack and Cas solved the case, Sam and Dean got Amara’s help, and they all went home and had family dinner, okay? New ending. There we go. Problem solved. Because NO! 

Well...f**k. I guess it’s review time?? But JESUS CHRIST!!! Okay, okay, I need a minute. Please hold. 

(Several Hours Later)

Okay. I’m back. Let me start with something kind of amusing. Several minutes after the episode ended, while I was still trying to process everything, this interaction happened: 

Me, breathing heavily and dying inside: Mom, you do not seem as distressed about this as I am. 

My Mom: I am never as distressed as you are about anything in this show. It’s impossible for me to reach that level of distress. I don’t know how you do it. 

So...if you didn’t already realize how emotionally connected to this show I am, now you do. XD 

That said, let’s get down to it. 

God, there is soooo much to unpack with that episode, and even crazier, it honestly all comes from that last five minutes. Let me start with this: 

I really enjoyed this episode! It can’t quite beat last week’s episode--but, honestly, I don’t know if any of the other episodes will be able to, except for maybe the finale--but it was good! I had a few qualms about Matt Cohen’s directing, but he definitely had some strong moments, so it wasn’t bad. And, admittedly, at first, I felt like the pacing of the episode was kind of slow, and switching back and forth between the Winchesters and Cas and Jack felt kind of choppy for a bit, but as the episode played out, I realized why. This was a full-on set-up episode. While last week gave us a chance to be silly with the boys and see some beautiful family bonding, this was the one that set us up for what’s sure to be heavy and plot-filled coming up. (And yes, I know next week’s episode is much more of a monster-of-the-week, but 15x17 is when things will likely really get down to it, so I’m sure there’ll still be some important plot stuff next week--especially since we need a resolution to the Cas and Dean talk). Between the boys having to find and trick Amara, and Cas and Jack bonding and working with each other again, plus that big reveal at the end, it’s setting up the next string of episodes to be fast-paced and intense as they finally start to take on God. 

With that said, I really loved being able to see Jack and Cas together again. It’s been so long since we’ve seen them really spend time together and bond, and watching them play off each other and be father and son was adorable and hilarious. Plus, I just love Jack with every fiber of my being, so that makes everything better. XD <3 

I also really loved Dean’s interactions with Amara. I mentioned this already, but that scene, where he’s talking about Mary...that was some INCREDIBLE acting on Jensen’s part. He’s always been really good at that subtle rage, especially when it’s also filled with sadness, and this scene was no different. And I’m glad that they did finally get Amara on board; however, I’m a little concerned with what she’s going to do when she finds out he lied. Especially after how worried she seemed to be. AND SPEAKING OF LYING!!

THOSE LAST FIVE MINUTES! HOLY SHIT!! 

Okay, so I’ve had some time to think about this and talk it out with some people, so I’m just gonna roll with the thoughts as they go through my brain. First of all, that is a big no a thousand times over. Jack, you cannot die. Second of all, that reveal was very well done on the writer’s part. After such a nonchalant episode--in terms of pace, that is--to have that in the last five minutes, AND to end with that cliffhanger, was a beautiful way to keep us fans guessing, invested, and wanting more. But also, SCREW YOU! 

That said, as freaked out as I was--and honestly, I’m still pretty worried--I really don’t think Jack’s going to die. There’s no way. Initially, my theory left Cas and Jack standing at the end of all of this. After CW said that thing about one of the main characters not surviving to the end, I thought it was gonna be Dean, but I can also see how it could be both Sam and Dean. However, in any case, Cas and Jack, in my various theories, always end up on top. So Jack saying he’s going to die in order to kill Chuck and Amara TOTALLY threw me. BUT! After talking it through with someone else, I seriously doubt it’s going to happen. 

First of all, Cas is about to go look for another way, and, as we’ve seen in the past, they always find another way. After all, this is the Winchesters (and yes, Cas counts, obviously). 

Second of all, they’re telling us this five episodes before the end, but Jack is, supposedly, completing his final ritual in 15x17. That leaves three episodes of unaccounted time, and if Jack is really going to die to kill Chuck and Amara, there’s no way they can stretch that over three episodes. Therefore, his dads are bound to stop it. To FURTHER that, 15x17 has Jack and Dean heading out together to complete Jack’s final ritual while Sam and Cas stay behind, which means that, once Jack does whatever he’s supposed to do, Dean is bound to find out what Billie’s true intentions are, and I’m convinced that he’s not going to be okay with it. Because here’s the thing. Between Sam and Dean, Jack is the one that Dean still needs the most forgiveness from. And, kind of like what happened in Last Holiday, the second Dean realizes Jack is in actual danger, he’s not going to let anything happen to him. And I’m hoping that the resulting protectiveness will give Dean the chance to tell Jack that he does forgive him, which will hopefully release some of Jack’s guilt complex and give them the ability to find another way. 

THIRD of all, (and I mentioned this in my reactions), this whole “becoming the bomb to kill the cosmic entities” is an exact mirror of what Dean tried to do in S11, and we saw how that went. But the thing is, why would the writers play the exact same storyline again unless they were intending to parallel it and connect it to Jack and Dean’s relationship now? When Dean didn’t detonate in S11, he got his mom back, but then Jack killed her. Now, Jack is ready to detonate himself as a bomb because of having killed Mary, and Dean’s bound to stop him, especially after that conversation with Amara. Maybe this is all wishful thinking, but I really, sincerely feel like (and hope) that Jack isn’t going to make that sacrifice. Because, on top of all of that, while I love the family that is Team Free Will 2.0, this show still is, as it always has been, about Sam and Dean, and, as such, it should end with them too. So the odds of Jack being the “be all end all” without Sam and Dean’s help? Super slim. 

So, to sum that up, as worried as I am about my baby, I really really really think (and god I hope I’m right) that that’s not the way this story will end. There has to be more to it. 

With all of that addressed, let’s talk about WHATEVER it is that Cas is about to tell Dean. For me, there are two things it could be:

First, there’s the obvious answer based on the episode itself. Cas is about to tell Dean that Jack has to die in order to kill Chuck and Amara. However, I don’t think that’s it, because that seems too easy and unrealistic. If Cas tells Dean that now, then why would Dean take him to do his final ritual in 15x17 (I guess this is what happens when you read too much promotional material lol)? And even if he does, the next episode seems to be very Sam and Dean centric, and Cas dropping a bomb like that would not allow for a Sam and Dean centric episode, at least not when it’s putting their whole big mission in a different light. Plus, on top of all of that, that Cas and Jack conversation is an exact parallel of the conversation the two of them had about Cas making his deal with the Empty back in Season 14. Cas told Jack not to tell Sam and Dean, and Jack never did, even though his life is at risk. So Cas telling Sam and Dean about Jack now, knowing that Jack kept that secret for him, might break a certain level of trust between the two of them, and I don’t think Cas would do that. Which brings me to my second and, in my opinion, more likely theory. 

Cas is about to tell Dean about his deal with the Empty. While this would also be a huge bomb to drop in the middle of this big fight, and in the middle of all this chaos, it technically doesn’t directly correlate with their fight with Chuck. However, if something does happen to Cas, that’s something that Sam and Dean do need to know, because it’ll affect how they handle things and what they do, in a lot of ways. At the same time, I feel like, if Cas is gonna do a whole “go it alone” thing, it’s important that he tells them before he leaves, because there’s no telling what could happen, to any of them, when they’re not all together, and being as open as possible before separating like that tends to be a good idea. It seems like Cas might finally be learning. 

That said, I could be wrong all around. It could be neither of those things. It could be both of those things. Honestly, there’s no way to know for sure until we get to next week. However, after a crazy ending like that, I am definitely looking forward to seeing what Supernatural has in store for us next. 

My Rating: 8/10

[searchingwardrobes]

Self Promo Sunday

I have honestly really enjoyed going back to my older fics and making picsets for them to post here on tumblr. This one is a cute little one shot that came to me because I did a brief stint in direct sales and was HORRIBLE at it! (I sold - or tried to sell - scrapbooking supplies). I know Killian is good at charming his way out of trouble and using his charm to steal things, but I imagined that being a salesman wouldn’t be as easy for him. You see, I was horrible at sales because I don’t like talking people into buying something when they clearly don’t want to. Killian Jones is very passionate about choice and free will, so I imagined the following story!

Words: 2k and some change

Rating: G for silly, sweet fluff

Also on Ao3

Tagging:  @snowbellewells​​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​​ @kmomof4​​​ @let-it-raines​​​ @teamhook​​​ @bethacaciakay​​​ @xhookswenchx​​​ @tiganasummertree​​​ @shireness-says​​​ @stahlop​​​ @scientificapricot​​​ @welllpthisishappening​​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​​ @thislassishooked​​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​ @kday426​​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​​ @lfh1226-linda​​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​​ @nikkiemms​​​  @optomisticgirl​​​ @carpedzem​​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​​ @branlovestowrite​​​​ @superchocovian​​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​​ @winterbaby89​​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​ @snidgetsafan​

Emma Swan really hopes Killian Jones has a second job. Because she’s never seen a worse salesman. The first time he comes into the diner, the last thing she would have pegged him as is a salesman. All mussed hair and black leather with piercings and a tattoo. The heavy black vinyl bag leaning against the booth next to him that says Buy the Book: Direct Sales is out of place.

He’s so bad at it that it takes him forever that first day to give her his sales pitch. Until his second cup of coffee, to be exact. That’s when he hems and haws as he gives her his business card. She stares at it, wondering how she can politely decline as he scratches behind his ear and slides a glossy catalogue across the table. She normally wouldn’t have any qualms at turning down either a sales pitch or a pick up line with a gruff not interested, but he’s so adorably nervous. He starts pulling sample inventory out of his bag, and that’s when she’s in trouble because Henry sniffs out the books like a bloodhound. Her son hops from his stool at the counter where he’s been doing his homework, and eagerly starts looking through the books.

“Look at this one, mom!” Henry exclaims, holding up a pirate sticker and activity book. “It’s not for babies. It’s got cool facts about the history of real pirates.”

Yes. Emma Swan’s son is not your typical ten year old. He’s both a bookworm and a history nut. And she loves him for it. Which is why she buys it. Not because salesman Killian Jones has killer blue eyes.

She pulls a twenty from her apron pocket, hands it to him (because there’s no way she’s giving a guy she just met her credit card information), and tries not to swoon when he smiles. It’s killer, too. She’s his first customer, he tells her, and she can’t help smiling back. He frowns, though, when he realizes he doesn’t have change for a twenty, and then Emma rolls her eyes because, really? It’s just a nickel. He smiles again at that and, well, crap. That smile!

She rolls her eyes later when she sees the ten he left for a tip along with a note telling her she’s “bloody amazing.” The fool went and gave the majority of his profit right back to her. Yeah, he really sucks at this.

*********************************************************

The second time he comes into the diner, he wisely comes in the afternoon again, ensuring Henry is there doing his homework. But this time, he tries (and fails) to chat up fellow customers to get a few sales. They seem skeptical of a salesman who looks more like a biker/rock star than someone who peddles used cars. Emma almost laughs when the only single woman in the diner’s face instantly falls when Killian Jones produces his business card and a catalogue. Seems his blue eyes and his smile are powerless against a woman scorned. She huffs as she tosses her tip on the table and exits the diner post haste, leaving a clearly baffled Killian behind.

When Emma approaches his table, he smiles half-heartedly and she feels sorry for him. Once again, he doesn’t try to sell her anything until she fills his coffee mug a second time. That’s when he pulls out a book he thinks Henry might like, all about knights and castles of the Middle Ages. Henry eagerly peruses it, and Emma is a sucker once again. She buys it because Henry loves history so much he’s the only ten year old Emma has ever heard of who was pumped about a weekend trip to Gettysburg. It’s not because of the way Killian Jones swipes his tongue over his lower lip when he’s nervous.

*****************************************************

The next time Killian comes into the diner, Christmas music is playing and a garland of evergreen hangs in loops over the counter. It’s mid-morning, so Henry’s at school. After his second cup of coffee, Killian admits he came when he knew Henry would be at school because he was hoping . . . and then he’s hemming and hawing again, rubbing at his neck and scratching behind his ear. Emma thinks for a split second that he’s trying to ask her out until he pulls his company’s Christmas catalogue out of his bag. She tries to ignore her disappointment when he asks if she’s finished her Christmas shopping yet.

She ends up buying a “Daily Inspirations for Teachers” desk calendar for Mary Margaret and Nicholas Spark’s newest bestseller for David (a guilty pleasure she loves to tease him about). For Granny she gets a book of knitting patterns. Killian pulls out a book he thinks Henry would like: a leather bound book of fairy tales with the title Once Upon a Time embossed in elegant script across the front. Emma knows Henry would love it, but gasps at the price. A forty dollar book is way over her budget, and like the horrible salesman he is, Killian doesn’t push it. She orders two graphic novels for Henry instead, and when she places the order she slides her credit card across the table.

Killian tells her it’s his biggest order to date and smiles so wide Emma is able to confirm her suspicions. There are dimples underneath that scruff. She begins to second guess her assertion that he’s a bad salesman. Because she’s pretty sure he could sell beachfront property in Kansas with those dimples.

*************************************************

In January, Emma is alarmed when a dejected Killian Jones enters the diner and slumps in his usual booth, his head in his hands. Emma decides to stop the charade when she approaches his table.

“You don’t have to wait till your second cup of coffee.”

Killian lifts his face to hers and quirks an eyebrow in confusion, “I’m sorry, love?”

“You know,” Emma says, gesturing with her order pad, “selling me books. What do you have for Henry this time?”

Killian sighs and leans back in the booth, “Alas, Swan, I am no longer in the business. I’m pretty much the worst salesman in the world.”

Emma hates that she chuckles, but she can’t help it, “Yeah, you pretty much sucked.” Killian, thankfully, laughs as well. “I’m glad I was your best customer, then. While it lasted.”

Killian winces, “Actually, love, you were my only customer.”

Emma’s jaw drops at that and her sympathy grows exponentially. She never bought that much, really. She glances around for Granny as she slides into the booth across from him. Although, based on Granny’s reaction to the knitting book (Why don’t you kiss the man already instead of buying all his books?), she doesn’t think she’ll mind.

“Are you okay? I mean, you don’t seem like you’re starving and destitute, so I’m assuming you have another job.”

“Several, actually,” Killian says, drumming his fingers on the table. “My brother and I do seasonal work on the Cape with a boat charter we own.”

“Cape Cod?”

“Aye. The Cape is beautiful in the spring and summer, but in the winter it’s downright depressing. So I like to come here to Boston once we winter the boat. The hustle and bustle is a nice change of pace, and I love city life during the holidays. Plus, like your boy, I’m a bit of a history buff. I work seasonally at the bookstore down the street.”

“So why the direct sales?”

Killian sighs, “A foolish notion. The bookstore only hires me through the end of December. I thought with this second job I could stay in the city until spring,” he shrugs. “Turns out convincing a customer in a bookstore to buy J.M. Barrie’s original Peter Pan instead of the abridged illustrated version is a mite different from selling books all on your lonesome.”

Emma’s heart drops at the implication of what he’s saying. “So what will you do now?”

“Slink back to the Cape with my tail between my legs and help my sister in law at the ice cream shop, as usual.”

So he’s leaving Boston. He’s leaving, and Emma is surprised at how much it disappoints her. “An ice cream place on the cape can make it through the winter?” She almost face palms. Can she sound any more desperate to convince him to stay?

Killian doesn’t seem to pick up on any subtext, thank goodness. “Elsa inherited the place from her aunt. She and her sister helped out there since they were kids. They know how to make it through the lean months. Dull as tombs, though. Yet, as they say, spring will come again!”

Emma tries to smile, but she knows it’s half-hearted. Killian reaches into his bag and pulls out the leather bound book of fairy tales she couldn’t afford at Christmas. Emma arches an eyebrow, “Still trying to make a sale?”

“Oh no, Swan, this is a gift. To thank you.”

“Killian, I can’t accept that. You need to sell off your inventory, or you’ll lose everything you invested.”

Killian chuckles sardonically at that, “Too late for that, Swan. Besides, you’re the only one who ever bought anything, and you know it wasn’t for the books. You felt sorry for me.”

Emma’s face flushes, and she wishes she could tell him that wasn’t it. She’s always despised pity and vowed she’d never doll it out. But how can she explain that while still guarding her heart? Instead, she accepts the leather book and hugs it to her chest, mumbling a soft “thank you.” Killian smiles in return and exits the diner without ever ordering a thing. And she hates the finality of his departure and the possibility that there could have been a them, but now she’ll never know.

She looks down at the book in her hands and notices a little rectangle of cardstock poking out of its pages. She pulls it out, expecting it to be Killian’s Buy the Book business card. Instead, it says Jewel of the Realm Charters with the names Liam and Killian Jones and a phone number. Emma’s heart flips in her chest when she sees that Killian has jotted a note on the back.

I owe you and Henry a free day of sailing. – Killian

The fool still knows nothing about making a profit.

********************************************************

In February, Emma Swan walks into Any Given Sundae along the shores of Cape Cod. She convinced herself there was nothing stalker-ish about her showing up here, but now that the bell is jingling above the door and the blonde woman behind the counter is smiling at her, she’s having second thoughts. Killian had mentioned his sister-in-law’s name, so it’s not like she had to be a private detective or anything to find the place. Still, who drives all the way from Boston to Cape Cod just to visit an ice cream shop? In February?

“May I help you?” asks the blonde, and Emma fiddles with the end of her scarf. She was kind of hoping Killian would just be there when she walked through the door.

“Um . . . I . . .” and she almost laughs thinking of the way Killian would hem and haw when selling her books. She glances around the store. It’s one of those tiny places that beach goers walk in and out of on hot summer days. There are no tables or chairs anywhere in the place. But in the corner a display table has been set up. A display table of books. Emma walks towards it. “You sell books?”

“Oh,” says the blonde – Elsa, she assumes – with a dismissive wave of her hand, “that’s a failed business venture of my brother-in-law’s. Please buy one. I need to get those out of here before tourist season.”

Emma reaches out and runs her fingers along the edges of the books.

“Swan?”

Emma turns to see Killian standing behind the counter with a large tub of ice cream in each arm. He deposits them quickly into their slots behind the glass then comes around to face her. They stand there staring at each other for a few moments, grinning like a couple of idiots.

“Wh-what are you doing here, Swan?” he stutters, and she swears he sounds more nervous than he did when he was trying to sell books.

“Guess it’s too early for that day of sailing, huh?” she teases with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases back, “there’s a foot of snow on the ground, Swan.”

Emma bites her lip and fiddles with her scarf again, “Actually, I came to tell you thank you. For Henry’s book. He loves it.”

Killian raises his eyebrows, “You drove all the way out to Cape Cod to tell me that?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Emma blush, and they just stare at each other again like goofballs. She sees Elsa laugh and shake her head out of the corner of her eye, and she thinks that she couldn’t possibly embarrass herself any more than she already has. So with a roll of her eyes and a screw this, she grabs him by the shirt collar and kisses the living daylights out of him.

He dives back in for more when she finally pulls away, and when Elsa tells them, “Easy there, tigers, you’re gonna melt all the ice cream,” they laugh against each others’ lips.

************************************************************

Two months later, Henry brings his book along when Killian takes them sailing. He reads parts of it out loud to them when Killian lays anchor, and Emma finds that it’s modern versions of classic fairy tales. Snow White is a bandit with a bow and arrows, Red Riding Hood is a werewolf, and Captain Hook is a hero who falls in love with a princess. And Emma thinks that she really likes this story. A pirate and a princess.

But she likes theirs better.

A salesman and a waitress.

Make that a horrible salesman and a waitress.

[jezebel-brando--jojo-oc]

[This is a Non-Selective rp/ask blog for an oc who is Dio Brando’s older sister. Mun is 17]

[Just don’t interact if you think having ocs that are related to canon characters are ‘cringe’ Let people have fun]

[Jessie’s story is down below, it’s very long though] [Promo’s greatly appreciated]

Jezebel Brando is the elder sister of Dio Brando. Her early life, wasn’t exactly a good one, as we know, Dario Brando was not a very good parent. At the tender age of six years old, Jessie was informed that she would be kicked out of the house in under a year. Her mother was pregnant again, and being a very poor family, they could only support one child. Jessie was far more likely to survive out on the streets, as well as the fact that this baby could potentially be a boy, who could carry on the Brando name, so was far more valuable.

She spent these months collecting what she could. Any money, clothes or nonperishable food she could scavenge was hidden away where her father would not find it. Of course, she also helped her mother while she was pregnant, even though she absolutely hated her yet to be born brother.

Upon the night of Dio’s birth, she was given an hour to collect her things and leave. Jezebel saw Dio for about five minutes, and she despised him. She gave her final farewell to her mother, not her father, or her brother, she didn’t think they deserved it. And she left to live on the streets.

Jessie spent a few years out on her way, doing odd jobs and stealing to earn her money. At the age of nine, she was taken into a church orphanage run by nuns and sisters. As she aged, she stayed within the comfort of her home, becoming a sister, and then a fully fledged nun.

Slowly, Jessie grew out of her hatred for her brother. She came to understand that her being kicked out wasn’t Dio’s fault, it was due to their father. Over time she grew to care for him, even love him. That was. Until she was twenty eight.

At 28, Jezebel Brando finally, properly, met her younger brother for the very first time. But it wasn’t a very happy reunion; at this point, Dio had already become a vampire. He mercilessly killed every other human being in that church, aside from her, well, not yet at least. 21 years after Dio had gotten Jezebel exiled from the Brando household, 5 years after she forgave him for it; Jessie had the stone mask forced onto her face and became a vampire. Now, she loved her brother, she excused much from him and would have excused more.

But this? This was unforgivable. Now Dio was plenty strong enough to mow through the docile members of the church, but another vampire was a whole other issue, especially one as extremely angry as Jessie was in that moment. She drove him away from her home and proceeded to collapse in the ruins of the church she’d grown up in. She sobbed and wailed until she had no more tears to give, and then she set to work. Jezebel buried every last one of her sisters and children, marking each of their graves as best she could.

During the day she would hide within the building creating headstones, and by night she’d dig the graves. A bed of plants she planted lovingly over each of them, and she would tend to her garden religiously. It was not immediately noticed the state the church was in, but when they finally set out people to search for the children and adults that were nowhere to be found, the search party was attacked by a dark figure with bright red eyes. They were not killed, they were simply knocked out and deposited at the border of the woods that cut the church off from the rest of the village. Although when they were checked by the doctor, they were found to be missing some blood, not a significant amount, a little more than what would be given in a blood donation.

The myth of the thing in the woods was a local superstition for near 100 years. Tales of a shadowy woman with glowing eyes were passed through the generations. The sightings were quite consistent, it would be seen stalking through the woods at night, and when it noticed itself being watched, the person looking for it would be knocked unconscious, and when they woke up on the edge of the trees, they would normally have less blood than they entered the woods with.

When these stories were discovered by the Speedwagon Foundation, they entered the woods during the day to search for a possible case of a vampire. And they found her. Jezebel was found curled up under a makeshift shelter in the garden, trying to avoid the rays of light that would occasionally come through the holes in the fabric she used to cover herself. Originally they were going to dispose of her, but the person in charge of the operation noticed how scared she seemed, pressing herself against the wall as if she was trying to hide inside of it.

They ended up calling for backup, and an agreement was made, Jessie would willingly come along with the foundation, and allow herself to be subject to tests to help figure out vampires more. In exchange for her gardens to be looked after, and to be able to visit at times.

Jezebel learned much about what she’d missed during her self imposed isolation. What her brother had done, the fact that he was now deceased, and much about stands.

During testing, they figured out that she seemed to be a stand user herself, although her stand seemed to be dormant for the time being, and nothing so far has managed to bring it out. She has the ability to see stands however, despite her own having yet to make itself known. Jezebel currently lives with members of the SPW, being often passed around to anyone not on duty.

She’s a little awkward from one hundred years of nobody to talk to but herself. But she’s kind and tries her hardest to not allow herself to be set back by things her family has done. Don’t let yourself be put off by the rest of the family, Jessie would love to talk, she’s not done it in so long.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: Into the Unknown with You

Good morning all! Here’s a little alternate take on what could have happened in 6x11 as Emma looked for another way home. I wrote all but some of the last scene before the midseason premiere of 6B, and when I didn’t get it finished before then, I debated even posting this, but I decided I wanted to anyway. I’ve come to be even fonder of it since then, so I hope that someone finds a bit of enjoyment in it! Clearly I don’t own them, as I would sometimes have had wildly different things happen (particularly in this stretch of episodes).

One more Author’s Note: The “awfully big adventure” bit is a tiny nod to J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan.

On AO3                     On ff.net    

“Into the Unknown with You”

by: @snowbellewells​

‘No, no, no!’ Emma’s mind reeled horrifically as she stared at the spot where only moments ago the portal had been whirling, her way home to her son and her pirate wide open. She wanted to scream; it couldn’t just be gone, and yet, a second too much hesitation, and the chance was lost. She looked at Regina anxiously, her fists clenched so tightly she felt the impressions her nails cut into her palms. It was all she could do not to rail at the older woman, this whole twisted world, and her own bad luck.

‘What now?’ she wanted to demand, wanted to shake her former nemesis turned tentative friend. However, one glimpse at the other woman’s stunned, disbelieving face staring across the shoreline at her presumed dead True Love, and Emma knew it would be a lost cause. Having stood beside a grave in grateful stupefaction at her own love’s miraculous return to life not so long ago, Emma couldn’t find the heart just yet to hurry Regina along or to remind her that she had spent the last day preaching how none of their surroundings or those they encountered in the Wish Realm were real. She too found herself blinking dazedly at this other – very convincing – version of Robin Hood for a few moments.

Even if her heart was still crying out for her home and her family, for Henry’s soft hair tickling her nose when she placed a kiss to the top of his head, and Killian’s arms enfolding her, she didn’t know where to go in this topsy-turvy version of the homeland she had never actually lived in, and so she had to wait – more impatiently by the minute – until one of these two, either queen or thief, snapped out of their spell and led the way…

As it turned out, Robin Hood was not the sort of outlaw who would truly do harm to two ladies passing through his territory. He wouldn’t have even made to steal their jewels and furs once the same trance that had overcome Regina seemed to strike him mute as well, but Regina offered him a pouch of coins that had been strapped to her waist and a ruby ring, pressing it into his calloused palm with a quirked smile and the assurance that “she insisted, she was much more partial to his cause than he knew”.

Emma wanted to snort at the ridiculous understatement those words were, and she only barely managed to hold back a roll of her eyes, which she sensed the thief saw but let slide with a conspiratorial wink.

Before she could make an argument for trying to catch up to Gold – or Rumplestiltskin here, she supposed – or ask where they were going to find another bean, it was evening, they were entering a forest in the gathering dark, and soon they had been welcomed to sit around a roaring fire with Robin’s motley crew, and even been offered the ale and venison passed around the circle as if they were part of the merry band.

“Now,” the archer began, seated beside Regina, his boy nodding drowsily on his lap. He looked around her to meet Emma’s gaze head on. “You must be thinking that I owe you an apology. Clearly you were about to leave this place, and because of me, you missed your ride.”

She tried to shrug it off nonchalantly, not wanting to get them kicked out in the cold, or to lay blame on him for something he couldn’t have known, but instead, to her own mortification, she felt hot tears stinging in the corners of her eyes. Though her sight grew glassy, Emma refused to let them fall. “So,” she tried for flippant, even if it fell horribly flat, “does that mean you know where we could find a replacement bean and want to help us get it?”

“Actually, your Highness,” Robin winked, a knowing sort of mischief in his eye, “I just might.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The following morning dawned misty and cool, but fair, and Robin greeted Emma at the simmering coals of the previous night’s campfire with a welcoming grin, Regina at his side on the stump they used for a seat, looking as soft and at ease as Emma had ever seen her, her head resting on his strong shoulder seemingly still half asleep. She and Regina had talked at length the night before, and at long last Emma had accepted that Henry’s adoptive mother wasn’t returning with her yet. “I know he isn’t the same Robin, that this whole place is built on a whim, but I’m not losing him again,” she had whispered vehemently. “There has to be another way to get back…one that he could take as well…if he wanted to…” The emotion welling in Regina’s dark eyes had been raw enough that Emma finally consented to go on without further fighting to change her mind, only giving a nod in affirmation when Regina had asked, “You’ll explain to Henry? Tell him I mean to return as soon as we both can?”

“Ready, your Highness?” the sandy-haired outlaw asked, breaking into Emma’s recent memories once more and looking down at her from where he now stood at the ready. “We should make the harbor by noon, if we set out now.”

“The harbor?” Emma asked breathlessly, dazed for a moment by what this could mean. Her heartbeat kicked up in both anticipation and dread. Surely he wasn’t here too…was he?

“Yes,” Robin answered her spoken question with an amiable nod as he kissed the back of Regina’s hand in farewell and turned to head off with Emma on his heels. “I happen to know a pirate with whom I sometimes trade my less than lawfully acquired goods. He might have just the sort of thing you need to return home…”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

The sound of gulls crying and wheeling overhead and the creak and groan of the wooden docks as they reached the edge of the shore town and neared the sparkling blue harbor was enough to take Emma’s breath away. Robin took a step forward to lead her down the docks, already offering to make introductions, but Emma stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

There before them, as recognizable as always, was the Jolly Roger, bobbing proudly at anchor. Though most might be intimidated by the sight, Emma drew in the first full breath she’d had since remembering herself in this strange realm – as if she had gotten her first real glimpse of home at last. He might still be the vengeful Captain Hook in this reality, but somehow she wasn’t afraid. He would never truly hurt her – and she only wanted to be at his side again without further delay.

Reassuring Robin that she could take it from there, Emma bid him goodbye. Though he looked uncertain, the archer took her at her word and left her with his best wishes. If she clutched his hand a moment longer and a bit tighter than would be normal and bid him be safe a little too fervently – well, she didn’t have to explain herself to anyone here.

At her first step onto the gangplank, a shudder of recognition ran through her, as if the vessel itself was welcoming her back aboard, shivers skittering along her spine. At first glance, the ship seemed deserted, her crew perhaps gathering supplies or unwinding at the nearest tavern, but the air around her wavered, charged suddenly, letting her know she was not alone. Emma felt even before she heard heavy footfalls on the planks or that deep, commanding voice at her back, asking who went there, that she had not gone undetected by the ship’s captain.

Turning, her eyes found him, hungrily drinking in the details; altered, but still without doubt the man she loved. The dark hair was windblown and unruly, practically begging for her fingers to delve into its soft abundance and brush the fringe back off his forehead. Though the strands might be shaggier and generously shot through with grey, it made him no less attractive to her starving eyes. In fact, she only wanted to stare at him all the more, to catalogue every difference, trace the deeper crow’s feet around his eyes and the added lines on his forehead. Those fathomless blue eyes were lined so liberally with the kohl she hadn’t seen him use for some time in their modern Storybrooke life that she almost wanted to chuckle at the effect until she registered the way the blue of his gaze also looked paler – as if washed out by too many tears shed alone and without comfort, or dulled by pain held back because he couldn’t afford to let it show.

Brandishing his moniker, and that dastardly, flirtatious mask he had long since let drop around her, to full effect, Captain Hook stepped well into her personal space. “And who might you be?” he questioned, breath warm on the shell of her ear as he leaned in, hook lifting the heavy rope of her golden braid and tucking it back over her shoulder. It was an achingly familiar gesture and he stood much too close for calm comfort, sending her pulse fluttering again, and yet no recognition lit his gaze as he studied her; the fond devotion she had come to rely on more than she could say was utterly absent, making her heart ache and crack in her chest.

“Princess Emma of Misthaven,” she answered as sturdily as she could, raising her chin and meeting his eye with as much confidence as she could muster. “I had hoped to speak to you on a delicate matter of some importance.”

“A delicate matter, is it?” he asked, his enunciation and the way his tongue caressed his words seductively had not been altered or diminished in the slightest, whatever else had changed. He stood back to his full height, fingers in his waistband, hips thrust forward and looking every bit as sinfully irresistible as he ever did, complete with that wide-open, chest-exposing red vest she had witnessed once in their trip to the past through Zelena’s portal. If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been fooled by the bravado, but knowing his heart as only a True Love could, she saw the emptiness behind the lascivious look, the pain within the façade – the proper, honorable lieutenant he had been, hating the persona his course had forced him to adopt. Even as he ran his tongue across his lower lip, letting his eyes trace her curves from head to toe almost lewdly, she could see the regret clouding the pupils and the wistful longing – as if he could sense what might have been.

Unable to stop herself, Emma reached forward impulsively, grasping both his hook and hand tightly as she spoke, “Yes, very…but just maybe…I was meant to find you. Maybe you’re the only one who would believe me.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Another hour found them below deck in his cabin, seated at the scratched, weathered wooden table which had served him in his lonely meals for ages, Emma’s hand still clinging to his hook where it rested on his thigh, but the other reaching up tentatively to trace that faded scar she knew so well beneath his eye. Hook – though more and more her Killian with every passing moment – had scooted closer to her on the roughhewn bench, blinking in awe as she saw hope returning to his face. He appeared both afraid to believe her words, but also desperate for them to be true.

“So you’re telling me that all of this around us – this whole life – is an illusion?” he asked haltingly, not daring to move his eyes from her face, as though he thought she might disappear as quickly as she had come to him.

“Well, yeah, basically,” she tried to explain. “Or more like…it’s a possibility that didn’t actually come true. There’s this v-villain in my home, in the real timeline that I come from, who made a wish that reset things, and I was sucked into it. I have a son, family and friends, a-and another version of you…who’s my True Love…there missing me. And I have to get back to them.”

“There’s another me?” he breathed, and where anyone else would have been skeptical, he looked merely stunned, wanting. “And…we’re…together?”

“Yeah, we are,” she whispered, laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and drawing comfort from its rhythm. She already felt stronger, more certain, even with this iteration of her pirate. Her watery smile quirked up into a bit of a smirk at one corner, “And don’t worry, he’s still devilishly handsome.”

Her captain’s eyes fell to their joined hand and hook in his lap, huffing out a laugh at her words. “More so than I, I’d wager,” he murmured.

Emma hummed under her breath, reaching out to run her fingers along a grey streak in his longer hair. “I don’t know about that,” she offered. “There’s something pretty appealing about this model, grey hair and all.”

“You flatter me, Milady,” he teased, that voice still a sinful purr rumbling from his chest as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to its back. Still, emotion welled up beneath the flirtation, making his magnetic gaze all the harder for her to escape. She was blinking, nonplussed and floundering for some audible response, when he straightened and pulled her to her feet with him. “Enough lollygagging then! I’ll prepare the old girl to set sail. It’s time we got you back where you belong!”

For a moment, Emma was stunned anew. This full-on piratical version of her True Love, who didn’t really even know her and had no reason to do anything she said, had not only chosen to believe her story, but was going out of his way to help her – just as he had ever since he turned his ship around to take her to Neverland. The lump in her throat was almost too much to speak around, but Emma managed to croak out, “You really would give anything to help me, wouldn’t you?” even as she shook her head in disbelief.

“Aye,” he affirmed, looking a bit like he was marveling at that fact himself. “I am not sure I fully understand, nor can I explain it to you, but I sense that I would – that I am almost compelled – to help you in any world or time you would appear to me.”

“Thank you,” was all she could really say in response, her wondering smile nearly blinding him with its brilliance.

“Come then,” he offered her his arm, his speech all business again, even while the pointed tips of his ears flushed, clearly uncomfortable with the gratitude and praise. “Above deck, and we’ll be off. I know someone who deals in nigh impossible to procure objects.”

~~~OuaT~~~~~CS~~~~~OuaT~~~

Standing beside him at the helm just a few short hours later, wind in her hair and the salt spray on her face, it struck Emma that though she was desperate to get home, to make sure her son, her family, and her Killian were alright, she didn’t want to simply abandon this pirate captain beside her. She didn’t know what would happen to him, if he would find something to live for, something to be part of, or if she was dooming him to his quiet desperation…even if he might simply vanish into nothingness with the rest of this ill-fated wish. She didn’t know what happened next, to be completely honest. Laying a hand on his forearm, she gazed up into his face, swallowing hard. “I don’t know what becomes of you, or this realm, when I leave here and go home,” she admitted. “I’m not sure if you all just go on like it never happened, if you cease to exist, if you wander here aimless forever…I just…I don’t know…”

Covering her hand with his, he guided the ship with no more than his hook rested capably on the wheel. “Worry not, Princess,” was his confident response, fervent resolve painted over his strong, careworn features. “We shall still set things right, as they should be. Whatever comes after this – infinity or oblivion – will be an awfully big adventure.”

Tagging a few who might enjoy this: @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @tiganasummertree​ @spartanguard​ @thislassishooked​ @therooksshiningknight​ @stahlop​ @lfh1226-linda​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @let-it-raines​ @ineffablecolors​ @optomisticgirl​ @shireness-says​ @snidgetsafan​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @mayquita​ @ohmightydevviepuu​ @revanmeetra87​ @teamhook​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @gingerchangeling​ @blackwidownat2814​ @nikkiemms​ @kday426​ @hollyethecurious​ @seriouslyhooked​ @ohmakemeahercules​

[welshdragonrawr]

For the Valentine's Day asks: 1-5, 7-11, 13-17, 19, 20, 22-27, 29-33, 35, 39, 41-43, 44 (fuck, marry, kill: Amanda, Audrey, Ally), 47-49 pleeeeeeease?? I know I said I wouldn't request a million but I'm a curious bean hehe ;)

Seeing as it is actually Valentine’s Day, I thought I’d finally answer these. Under the cut, because it’s a loooooong post and I didn’t want to overtake peeps’ dash. Well here goes;

(Also, the post format messed up, but I couldn’t be bothered to fix them because this already took ages so they’re just in the order asked and I bolded answers so they stand out)

do you have a crush on anyone? - I do indeed, and I am fairly certain they are well aware of it ;)

what’s your favorite candy? - It changes all the time because I have such a sweet tooth but right now chocolate-wise it’s probably cadbury or kinder chocolate, and actual candy probably haribo (tangfastics to be precise)

favorite love song? - There are too many to choose from or list here but right now it’s probably still ‘Wasteland Baby’ by Hozier, You Are In Love by Taylor Swift, or for entirely cheesy reasons a certain someone might know Hero by Enrique Iglesias 

what was your first kiss like? - Terrible because I didn’t know what I was doing and was with entirely the wrong person at the wrong time and I didn’t know it then

what was your last kiss like? - If it’s the one I’m allowed to think of in this context, pretty damn good ;)

do you prefer poems or love letters? - Both - I can’t decide, because I love anything remotely like that, when someone goes to the length of composing something like either of those because they were thinking of me? Incredible! 

favorite fanfic trope? - Slow-Burn if that counts, with a side order of fake dating or mutual pining, potentially both at once heheh 

have you ever been in love? Mayyyybeeee, maybe I aaaaam, I’ll just have to let you ponder that one ;)

favorite milkshake flavor? - Chocolate brownie, even if I can’t have too much because then it gets sickly but in small quantities? Yesssss! Or cookies&cream in any variation

dinner dates or brunch dates? - This one was tough because I don’t really have any experience with either, but I think Brunch dates, and not just because I would have much much less anxiety about awkward food ordering and stuff, plus I feel like Brunch dates have much less formal expectation about them, and you have the rest of the day after to do more things if you want to!

favorite perfume/cologne?  - Probably the Ghost one that has a bottle shaped like the moon, or Good Girl by Caroline Herrera (the bottle looks like a high heel?)

favorite candle scent? - There’s a seasonal Yankee Candle one they do around Christmas time that I cannot remember the name of for the life of me right now, but it’s just the right kind of sweetness in the air when you have it burning for a lil while? If I ever remember what it is I’ll come back and edit this post haha

what’s your ideal first date? - I’m not really sure, because all types of dates make me nervous especially first dates haha. I’d like to leave it up to the other person to decide what we do, as long as I could treat them in some way with whatever it is/wherever we go? 

favorite love story? - Are we talking classics or fandom or...? What currently springs off the top of my head though is Hades & Persephone - I’m convinced he didn’t ‘steal her’ to be a dick, he stole her away to somewhere cool and calm away from the pressures and terrors of life on the surface so she could catch her breath for a couple months, and can we blame her? And he makes her his Queen, like - if he was gonna be mean, he could have made her his slave, or his concubine or his pet or something, but instead he gave her his whole world to rule with him. Sounds like a better guy than that bastard ol’ Zeus, no? (Historians/Classics students please don’t fight me) 

what’s the most attractive thing a person could wear? - Happiness. Doesn’t matter to me whether you’re wearing a trash bag, or a Chanel dress or your faded ol’ pjs or not a single thread. So long as you’re happy and you’ve got that glow about you and that bright shine in your eyes? Yeah..

snow, rain, or sun? -  I love all three for different reasons (I’m indecisive, don’t judge me, or do) give me a snow day with my dog or my lover with hot chocolate and snowmen and flurries out the window, or an afternoon reading inside while it rains with blankets and a cup of tea, or a sunny afternoon walk with just the right amount of cool breeze to keep it balmy but bright? Yes please. But again, if I had to choose, probably rain... Because I live in England for one thing, but there’s something so comforting about the rain.

sweetest romantic memory? - My partner at the time took me to a second-hand bookshop and let me browse the stacked shelves as long as I liked, and I found a hardback copy of a book by a fave author but it was too expensive so just admired it and put it back, then when my birthday rolled around 2 weeks later, they turned up with that same book they had gone back for without telling me as a surprise gift

fictional crushes? - Cordelia Goode, Theo Crain, Mildred Ratched, I could keep listing but that means we’d be here forever and if you’ve been following me long enough you probably already know anyway...

what’s your dream wedding like? - This would need a whole post on its own to answer if I could actually be decisive and sit down with some thought over it. But alas... I don’t really know, I’d like things to be somewhat fancy and romantic, but I’d also like for it not to feel all stuffy and super serious like, that everyone can have fun and be a little goofy and a little merry and not have to worry about oh am I doing this certain thing right or feeling all self-conscious while dancing. So I’m not really sure how to narrow it down into specific details or events...? Except, there’s a really dumb nerdy part of me that wants to be able to do the cake slicing with a sword rather than a knife. Because reasons. 

what makes you blush? - Too much. Usually compliments. 

do you believe in love at first sight? - I believe in *attraction* at first sight, and *affection* you find or work for later. 

do you believe in soulmates? - Yeah, but I also believe a soulmate doesn’t have to be someone you’re in love with or a romantic partner, a soulmate can just as easily be a friend you keep on keeping on through this silly little game of life with, y’know? You’ve both been dealt shitty hands, but you’d be willing to share each others cards to get through, and some other cheesy af analogies...

denim jackets, leather jackets, or bomber jackets? - Leather jackets, tho technically I have worn and do wear all three so - I hoard jackets like some people hoard shoes and handbags, it’s a problem

are you single? - if you know you know, and that’s the that on that ;)

do you prefer to charm, or be charmed? - Both? I love to see the look on a partners face when they’re charmed, all blushing and cute and sparkly eyes and big smiles - I think I like to be charmed too but I would also get suuuuper awkward and not sure what to do with it or in response to it because I’m not used to being on the receiving end of attention like that?

guitar or piano? - I love both, and girls who can play either/both are heavensent sirens who can have me under their spell for hours (I think it’s the hand thing again, see?) but if I had to choose it would have to be Piano.

favorite romcom (or any romantic movie)? - Um... Does Love & Other Drugs count? Or Imagine Me And You - I’m not big on too many ‘traditional’ rom-coms because they make me cringe way too often, and often not in a good way, but there’s sometimes the odd one I enjoy! (Though I must admit, being British, Bridget Jones and Love Actually are like, historical treasures so...)

do you fall in love easily? - Nope. I mean, do I love people easily? Yeah I try to give the best of myself to the people I cherish as much as possible. But do I *fall in love* easily? Nah, takes a while before this oblivious lil heart realises it.

would you prefer to propose or be proposed to? what’s your dream proposal? - Oh gosh, honestly, I don’t know... I’m one of those people that *love* to do anything and everything to bring a smile to my partner’s face and make them happy and there’s just something so magical about seeing their face light up and their eyes sparkle, y’know? So I feel like I would want to do that by giving them the perfect proposal for them (but on the flipside this means I would also be incredibly *terrified* of ever doing it remotely wrong/not exactly how they wanted it, or getting the wrong kind of ring or all of that plethora of details and minutiae that could be messed up ahha). But also, I kinda wouldn’t mind being proposed to either? Like I’m so used to taking care of other people, it might be nice, at the risk of sounding like a bad pokemon promo. to have that validation of someone else saying ‘I choose you’ y’know? As for dream proposal, much like dream wedding, I’m not entirely sure? As long as it’s memorable and with the one I love? (Which is such a cop-out answer) I honestly don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it, probably because I never really thought it was happen so I figured why think about something that’s never gonna happen ahhah. Somewhere picturesque I guess? So I could really capture the picture in my mind for the rest of my lifen, not like for a social media photo post or any of that shit but just for myself to look back on, if any of that essay ramble makes any sense. 

kittens or puppies? - How DARE- Nope. It’s both. I’m sorry but it’s both. They are both adorable AF and I will love and pet and cherish them all. 

favorite soda? - Cola I guess? And don’t try to rope me into the Pepsi V Coke thing, because honestly I like both for different reasons and choosing one over the other seems silly when either of them tastes good if you’ve got enough whiskey or rum in them ;) 

do you prefer gazing wistfully out the window or lying dramatically over the sofa? - I rather like doing both tbf, but if I’m gonna be honest, give me ‘cosied up under a blanket, with a mug of hot tea/coffee gazing wistfully out the window at whatever weather is going on outside, any day.

favorite ABBA song? - How dare you - umm... Slipping Through My Fingers or The Winner Takes It All because I am at heart a soppy dramatic fool.

fuck/marry/kill? (anons name 3 people of your choice) - You meanie, how dare you make me decide such a thing. Buuuut Fuck Ally (cuz you just *know* that canon wlw got some mooooves), Marry Amanda (because she seems like someone I could get along with in all the day to day stuff y’know? Like, I could settle down with her, you feel me?) and don’t hate me but you asked the question but Kill Audrey (*runs and hides*)

do you think about love a lot? - Yeah, I think so, in all its different incarnations. As a writer I’m kinda obligated to? But I think I think about it even when I’m not super aware of it or the reasons for or why. 

a walk in the park or a walk on the beach? - It’s a tough once because I love it when the light filters *just so* through trees and looks so pretty, but the beach has the lapping waves and soft sand to walk on and pretty colours at sunsets and sharing ice creams/chips/doughnuts/pretzels and- Yeah so beach probably.

hand kisses or nose kisses? - Hand kisses, fo’sho, because haaaands

[livingbecauseofwriting]

Life’s Too Short

Hello loves! So i’ve never really done anything like this (except like 3 horrible short stories I put on Wattpad like 5 years ago), but I really hope you enjoy. Please like and share and comment what you think. 

Me and my sister are doing a writing exchange where each month we draw 2 short dialogue prompts and a character and write a story and give it to each other at the end of the month. We just started this so this is the first story. 

I posted something about it and someone responded saying they’d want to read it so here you go. Anyway Imma shut up, but If you like it and would like for me to continue posting each month’s story and possibly opening up requests and stuff to write regularly please let me know!

This month’s prompts were:

“Don’t think about anything, just tell me you love me and hold me tighter” and “What are you doing up?”

I got Grayson Dolan.

Word Count: 8487

Warnings: life threatening event but I don’t want to give it away.... and cursing if that needs a warning

(Tumblr fucked up the formatting when I pasted it in here so if it looks weird I’m sorry I tried to fix it)

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Bright golden rays cut through the curtains as the sun set high into the new day’s sky. The sunlight spread cross your modern style bed and illuminates you and your husband’s bodies. You were facing each other with your legs tangled together under your pure white comforter. The bright light spreads across your face and you groan softly as you come into a conscience state. Grayson smiles softly at your utter look of annoyance at the signaling of the new day that has brought you out of your slumber. Grayson has always been a morning person, while you are not, and would sleep until the late hours of the day if given the chance. Because of this, Grayson is usually a wake a good hour or two before you in the mornings and gets up, always careful not to wake you, to start his rigorous work days. Today, however, Grayson had a day off, something that had become increasingly rare in your lives, and so he opted to stay in bed and just admire the heavenly women that he gets to wake up to every morning.

He chuckles as you slowly shift in the bed in an attempt to block the sun from your eyes. He reaches a hand up and gently moves some of your messy bed hair behind your ear and places a soft kiss on your forehead.

 “Good morning babe” He whispers, his voice still groggy and scratchy from sleep. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him with both a look of love and annoyance.

 “It would be a good morning if the sun wasn’t being so rude.” You pout and bury your head in Gray’s bare shoulder as he pulls you closer and presses another kiss to your hair.

 You lie like this for a second until you suddenly become very aware of his presence as well as what time it probably is, seeing as the sun is shining so bright and he’s usually up and working at the crack of dawn. You pull your head away from him abruptly and look at him with a very confused look on your face.

 “Why are you still here? You’re usually deep into your work and filming with E by this time of the day?”

 When the twins started their online presence on Vine back in 2013, the rose to fame rather quickly. It was something neither of them expected. The videos they made were just of them having fun and being their own idiot selves and it turned into a massive following. When they moved onto YouTube in 2015 that following only grew. Now with well over 18 million subscribers, filming every day, marketing meetings, promo meetings, gaining sponsorships, creating video ideas, and finding new creative ways to reach an even bigger audience, the twins were busier now more than ever.

 “Usually yes, but we did a lot of work this week and got ahead. So, we earned ourselves a day off.” Grayson explained softly as he continued gently caressing your hair as he studied every feature of your tired, yet beautiful face. It’s been just over 4 years since you two met, and every day he was still completely in awe that he got to wake up with this life, with you beside him. How’d he get you? I mean he honestly just couldn’t understand, how he possibly got this beautiful woman beside him? Every day when he saw you sleeping beside him, he silently thanked God for that day, that day that started everything for you two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Back story ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Grayson met after you moved to California for an internship in your senior year of college. You had quickly discovered a coffee shop perfectly placed right between your apartment and work that became your favorite place to study and get work done. Coincidently, this was Grayson’s favorite coffee shop and he had been a regular since He and Ethan moved to Cali years prior.

 After constantly seeing you  in the café time after time, Grayson became curious. You were this mysterious girl who showed up out of nowhere and took over his coffee spot, even the workers were beginning to get closer to you and knew you better than they knew him, and he had been going there MUCH longer. However, he just couldn’t get up the courage to question the beautiful girl that made his day just a little bit better whenever he saw you there sipping your hot chai tea with almond milk and concentrating intensely on god knows what you had to work on that week.

However, the day came when he had no choice. You had only been at the shop a short while before you get an emergency call from work making you hastily gather your things and rush out the door at exactly the same time Gray was trying to enter causing you to slam into each other. Your hot chai went everywhere, mostly on you and your computer.

 “SHIT!” You yelled looking down at your clothes and your probably now ruined computer. You quickly looked up at Grayson who looked just as stunned as you as Ethan completely lost his mind, laughing his ass off behind him.

“I’m so sorry. I should have been looking where I was going. I’m sorry. I just- oh my god this is probably ruined... and oh my god, are you wearing a Gucci shirt that I just ruined because of my clumsy ass self…” Your muttered so quickly that it practically came out as one sentence.

 Grayson’s expression softened as he noticed how stressed and petrified you looked.

“It’s ok. I mean yes, it is, but it’s fine. I can just steal my brother’s, he has the same one.”

Grayson smiled. “Oh, shoot here let me get you some napkins” He said immediately after, rushing inside and grabbing a giant stack of napkins off the counter and bringing them over to you.

 You smiled hesitantly still shocked and stressed and took the napkins from him and began to attempt to wipe the chai off your clothes, computer, and books.

 “You look like you’re in a hurry, can I help you with something? Do you need a ride... or new clothes?” Gray asked chuckling a bit. You looked up giving him a look that you clearly didn’t find this funny as you continued to wipe your belongings.

 “Um thank you, but I really do have to go. I’m so sorry again. Um, you come in a lot. Maybe I can make it up to you next time... I’m really sorry.” You responded quickly still in almost a single sentence. Before Grayson could even comprehend what you said or even mutter an “ok” you were halfway down the street rushing to your work emergency.

 To say Grayson was stunned would be an understatement. He really didn’t care that you spilled hot chai all over him, no, he was mainly shock at how everything went down. This girl he’s been wanting to talk to for weeks and THAT is your first interaction. It was like something straight out of a movie. Grayson collected himself and punched Ethan’s arm as he made fun of Grayson’s flushed expression.  He wondered if he’d see her again, and if he did what it would be like now that the ice had been broken.

 He was disappointed when he didn’t see you in the café the following day, but figured either you were entirely too embarrassed to show your face around here anytime soon or you were busy sorting out your computer problem, either way, he desperately wanted, no, NEEDED to see you again.

 That’s why his heart nearly stopped when he walked into the café three days later and saw you sitting there, your back facing him so you didn’t see him as you intensely poured over your books and typed away on what looked like to be a different computer but not necessarily a new one. He couldn’t resist the smile that spread across his lips and he silently thanked God that Ethan was too lazy to get out of bed and opted out of coming to pick up their coffee with him.

 Grayson noticed you weren’t sporting your usual hot cup of chai and hastily went to the counter and ordered Ethan and his usual along with your chai tea order which he had picked up on after watching you order it every single time you came in. When the drinks were done he carefully made his way to your table. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing but he knew there was no turning back, he was already in motion.

 Grayson reached you and you still hadn’t noticed him as you were so focused on your work and had your earbuds playing soft music in your head. He cleared his throat gently and placed the chai tea on a clear spot of the table in front of you making you jump slightly as you quickly yanked out your earbuds and looked up. You smiled as a noticeable heated blush spread across your face.

 “Oh, uh, hey sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. I uh got you your drink. I noticed you didn’t have one today and I thought I’d get you one to say, ‘sorry I got in your way the other day.” Grayson said awkwardly desperate to explain himself without looking weird or creepy as he rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged softly.

 You smiled brightly and shook your head softly. “Please don’t apologize. It really wasn’t your fault. I need to watch where I’m going, but thank you this is very sweet.” You took a sip of the chai not sure what to expect that he had ordered you, but as soon as the drink passed your lips you looked up at him surprised. “Char tea with almond milk and an extra shot...How’d you know? Are you stalking me?”

 Grayson’s eyes widened and he quickly shook his head, “Nononono, I uh, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we’re here at the same time a lot and I’ve just noticed you get the same thing every time and honestly it’s not that hard to remember.” He said chuckling nervously.

 You smiled at his quickness to defend himself. “I was kidding. Thank you though. I love this.” You took another sip and there was a bit of an awkward silence for a second before he gestured to the computer you were using and questioned, “You got a new one? I hope the other one didn’t mess up too bad. I know you probably had a lot of work saved on there.”

 You nodded and placed the cup down sighing. “Not a new one just a loaner from a friend. I can’t get mine to turn on and I can’t afford a new one which is fine except I can’t retrieve any of my work from my computer so I basically have to start all over from scratch.”

 Grayson nodded in understanding and cringed sympathetically at your pain. “I know your pain. My entire work exists in my computer but my brother’s very clumsy and has messed up one or two. So yeah I know a guy who’s been able to fix some of mine and if he can’t fix it he can at least retrieve the data from it. I can hook you up if you’d like.”

 Grayson swore his heart stopped as he watched your eyes widen and a look of utter disbelief and amazement, but most of all relief, wash over you. It was adorable. “Really!?! That would be absolutely amazing. Oh my god you’re literally saving me so much time and work.”

 Grayson smiled and nodded just glad he could help but also hoping this gave him an in or at least an excuse to spend some time outside of this small café with you. “Yeah of course. Actually, he lives just down the street from me. I can talk to him when I get home and see when he’s available.”

 “That would be perfect. Here let me give you my number so you can contact me.” You said picking up a pen and ripping a small piece of paper from a page in your notebook. You quickly scribbled down your number trying to make sure it was readable as Grayson stared at you, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, he couldn’t believe it. You handed him the number and he took it tentatively, like it was the most valuable item on the planet, and honestly at the moment in his world, it was. Grayson starred at the number and quickly realized he didn’t even know your name.

“Thank you, but um, what name should I use for the contact, I don’t think I ever caught it.” You smiled surprised at his words and chuckled softly as you leaned back in your seat.

 “You managed to remember my coffee order but never picked up on my name?” You questioned smirking at him watching in amusement as his face went completely red.

“I mean… now that I’m thinking about it, yeah. I’ve always just kind of referred to you as the ‘chai tea girl’… I mean not that I’m talking about you often but like the few times it came up with other people that’s what we called you.” Grayson said rambling nervously as his face went even more red. You chuckled and shook your head softly.

 “I’m just giving you a hard time… I’m Y/N, but I’d hate to mess up what you already know me as, so please continue referring to me as “chai tea girl’ if you must.” You laughed softly at your words and Grayson’s heart melted. Your laugh was like music to his ears, it’s something he could see himself listening to everyday. These thoughts were nuts to him. He barely knew you, yet at the same time he feels like he’s known you his whole life, it was like nothing he’s ever experienced.

 “Y/N...? I like that name, it’s really pretty.” Grayson responded softly smirking making you blush. “I’m Grayson…”

 “Yeah I know. And your brother is Ethan? You guys are a bit bigger than I think you’re giving yourself credit for. My sister really likes you and I’ve seen a few videos through her. You’re funny, and unique from every other YouTuber. I like that. Originality.”

 Grayson smiled and nodded softly, proud of his brother and his work. “Thanks that means a lot. We work really hard to create good content that’s original to us so I’m really glad you like it. We do a lot of crazy stuff, shit happens, things break, that’s why I know this guy. He’s fix many computers and cameras for us and retrieved a lot of content we thought we lost. He’s good, he’ll for sure be able to help you.”

 “That’s awesome. I hope so, I can’t lose all that.” You said sighing in relief. You were so intrigued by Grayson. Sure, he was hot af, but there was something else. The guy standing in front of you was so different from the guy everyone watched on YouTube and something inside of you was begging to find out more about this real, authentic version of Grayson Dolan.

 The conversation eventually died out as Ethan spammed Grayson with texts asking where the hell his coffee was and you had to get back to work anyway but you left each other feeling like you were floating and neither of you could stop smiling.  

 Grayson texted you later after talking to his friend and you agreed to meet at his place the next day. It took his friend all of 5 minutes to fix your laptop and retrieve all your work. You were so relieved and in the rush of gratefulness to Grayson and his friend, and with all the time you suddenly had on your hands now that you didn’t have to do all that work over again, you and Grayson agreed to go out, somewhere other than the coffee shop.

 The next night Grayson took you on one of the most unique and fun dates ever. What you thought was going to just be dinner turned into a picnic on top of a cliff under the stars and breaking into an old theater and performing for each other, just complete nonsense. You continued to an amusement park where Grayson of course won a stuffed t-rex with giant eyes after watching you freak out about how cute it was. You explored the city and later found yourself at a beach to watch the sun rise. Everything about the night was perfect. It was a night pulled straight out of a movie and neither of you could comprehend it, but that night was just the start.

 Soon you and Grayson were seeing each other at least every week (outside of the café) and then once a week turned into three times a week until it got to the point that you were practically living with the boys. They started including you in bits and pieces of their videos and soon their whole fan base knew you. You and Grayson dated for two years before he finally asked you to marry him. Everyone knew you were meant to be together and it was just a matter of time, so it was no surprise when you finally sported that diamond ring on your finger.

 It was quiet and intimate. Grayson rented out the whole coffee shop that started it all. The place was filled with fairy lights and all the tables were moved and the floor was covered with pillows and blankets and Grayson made sure you had all the chai tea you wanted. A screen was projected on the wall and once you were settled in it began playing starting with the Disney intro to fake you out, but quickly turned into a slideshow movie about you containing all sorts of pictures of you, you and Grayson, your friends and you all together, and a bunch of videos, some which you had no idea they were filming.

 When the movie finished you had tears in your eyes, just seeing all these memories, you couldn’t believe this was your life. You turned to hug and kiss Grayson but he was down on one knee holding an opened velvet box with a beautiful, simple diamond ring inside. You didn’t know how you didn’t notice him get up before but there he was. It was incredibly cheesy but that’s just who he is. He already had tears in his eyes not even having said anything yet.

 “Y/N…if that video isn’t testimony enough to the impact you’ve had in my life, then let me tell you. Babe I have no idea where I would be without you. From the moment I saw you, sitting in this coffee shop working your ass off on whatever project you had due that week and drinking that damn chai tea, my heart knew it needed you and I don’t care how fucking cheesy that sounds, it’s true. Everything happens for a reason, and when you ran into me two years ago, destroyed your laptop and ruined my favorite Gucci shirt, it was fate. That was the beginning of something so beautiful and nothing else mattered. Our love is once in a lifetime, and I’m so glad it exists in ours. I would fight for you and find you in any lifetime, and I want to spend the rest of this one with you by my side. So please God, will you marry me already?” Grayson chuckled and smiled as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“It’s about damn time!” You laughed crouching down to his level and flinging yourself into his arms. “I love you so much you fucking asshole. Of course I’ll marry you.” You giggled pulling away, cupping his cheeks in your hands and wiping his tears with your thumbs before pulling his lips to yours. You both smiled uncontrollably into the kiss and pulled away leaning your foreheads against each other. Grayson looked down and placed the ring on your finger before pulling you in for another long hug.

You guys decided to keep the engagement quiet for a while, only telling family and friends, just wanting to enjoy this special time to yourselves for a bit before letting the whole world know. When you did finally tell his fans you two made a short little video about it and both made Instagram posts shortly after the video went up. You got married a little over a year later and it was everything you could have asked for and more. The rest is history.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Back Story~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled, beaming brightly at his words. “Really!?! Oh my god it’s been so long.”

 “Yes really.” Grayson chuckled softly at your excitement. He knew you needed this, you both did. You barely ever saw each other now-a-days. Grayson almost never had a day off and your days were usually spent apart, not seeing each other until you both fell into bed at night, and at that point it was much too late and you were both too tired to do anything together. “I was thinking we could go out, spend the day together doing the things we don’t normally get to do.”

You smiled wider and nodded in agreement before leaning in and pressing an excited kiss to his lips. You two sat like that for a second, just holding each other, enjoying each other’s presence before you gently pushed yourself up, Grayson soon following, and stretched your arms out, squinting at the harsh daylight pouring through the big floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding your room.

 The twins had bought a compound with two houses on it overlooking LA with a beautiful view of the city and the beach. The twins always knew they wouldn’t able to live apart, but when Grayson and you got married and Ethan was sure to follow with a fiancé of his own eventually, the old house was getting too crowded. When the twins created this property with their house literally only 20 feet apart connected by a glass tunnel/hallway, it was an absolute dream come true for them. It was very modern and green. The whole house contained big windows for lots of sunlight to come in. There were plants everywhere, but placed perfectly to create a beautiful aesthetic. The floors were all wood and most surfaces throughout the house were all made of stone or marble. The house generally contained an all-white or grey color scheme with pops of color here and there and everything was very open. It was everything you imagined a famous California house to look like.

You pulled yourself out of bed and wrapped your silk robe around you and went to make your way to the kitchen before Grayson stopped you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and kissing your neck gently.

“Let’s eat out today love. No working in any way, let’s just enjoy this.”

You smiled and closed your eyes softly as his lips and hot breath grazed your skin as he spoke. You turned in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck and nodded kissing his softly. “Sounds lovely. I guess I’ll just get dressed then.” You two pulled apart and made your way to your separate closets. You picked a pair of black and white checkered slacks with a light blue sweater with your black vans. After you got dressed you went to the connected master bathroom and applied a small bit of makeup and pulled your long hair into messy bun. You walked out just as Grayson finished pulling on his shoes. He was wearing black ripped jeans and a white t-shirt with black and red strips and a pair of red vans. Damn did he look hot.

You smiled as he took your hand and led you out of the bedroom, grabbing his keys as he made his way to the car. He opened the door for you like the gentleman that his is and you jokingly curtsied to him in response as you both giggled softly. Grayson climbed into the driver’s side of his custom vintage 1960s teal Bronco and backed out of the driveway, one hand on the wheel while the other held yours in his lap. Neither of you knew where you were going or even had a plan but you knew it was going to be a perfect day no matter where you were.

 Grayson drove slowly through downtown LA so that you both could scan the different shops and cafes to find a place to eat. You pointed out a small breakfast/brunch place on the corner and Grayson quickly found a parking spot and pulled in. Once again Grayson rushed over to your side and opened the door for you offering his hand, which you gladly took, as you stepped out of the vehicle and made your way into the corner café. It was a cute little place and had a modernized retro look, defiantly very California.

Once you and Gray were inside you were seated and ordered rather quickly as in the car you both had mutually expressed a craving for pancakes that needed to be satisfied ASAP. You made light conversation about what you wanted to do with the rest of the day, which neither of you had any opinions for and opted to just let whatever happens happen. When your food arrived, you couldn’t help but snap a pic of Gray, I mean you were both influencers now and had to please your audience and you knew this would make the fans drool… for the pancakes of course

 @HeyItsY/N: Hey there good looking ;) …. Oh and @graysondolan is here too

 After you both devoured some of the best pancakes you’ve ever had, you paid and made your back to the car. You hesitated as Gray opened the door for you.

“Why don’t we just walk. See what we see.” You said shrugging lightly. Gray smiled shutting the door without question and locking the car again. He grabbed your hand and you two set off down the street not really sure what you were doing or where you were going.

 The day end up leading to places you wouldn’t have imagined. You and gray found a hidden park where you eventually brought food and had a picnic type lunch. You shopped around a bit at the different vintage shops around downtown LA. You bought a lot of thrifted vintage clothes and some new vinyls for the custom player Gray built. Of course, Gray had to go to the Gucci store and Louis Vuitton where you bought clothes he defiantly didn’t need but you didn’t mind because he looked hella good. You and Gray were walking along a sidewalk that had an open view of the mountains and valleys of California. It was beautiful and even though you weren’t speaking or doing much, you couldn’t have been happier than that moment. You wish you could stay here forever.

It was only about 3 o’clock and you and Gray were just getting started, still having big plans for the day. You were making your way back to the car to travel to some other nearby destination when Gray’s phone rang. He groaned and grabbed his phone out of his pocket and pressing answer before moving it to his ear.

 “Hello? … Yeah… No, I’m out with Y/N … Why, we have the day off? … Can we do this tomorrow? … Are you sure? Ok ok calm down ... we’ll head over now. See you soon.”

Grayson sighed hanging up the phone and turned around to look at you. You could tell from little bit of the conversation that you had heard that your day-off was cancled, but you knew there was nothing you could do and you could tell Grayson wasn’t happy either.

 “I’m sorry love, they need me to go to the warehouse and discuss some business shit I don’t even know. I’m sorry, I know you were looking forward to having this whole day. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

 You sighed and nodded softly taking Grayson’s hand. “Gray its ok. There’s nothing we can do. Plus, we’ve already done so much more than we usually get too and that’s all I could ask for. This day has been amazing. Let’s go, they’ll be mad if you make them wait.” You said and kissed him softly before hopping into the car to head to the twin’s business warehouse.

The twins had bought a small warehouse/business building that they transformed into their work center. They used this to take care of business meetings, storage for their merch and a secondary filming location for shit they couldn’t film at the house.

 When you arrived at the office Grayson headed straight to the meeting room but not before leaving you with few soft kisses to hold onto as you waited in the small lounge area for him to return.

 You became restless as you moved around the lounge trying to get comfortable as Gray had been in this meeting for over an hour now. You jumped a little as you heard a door slam and Gray came from around the corner looking mad but his face melting into sadness as soon as he saw you. He sighed and grabbed your hand ignoring your questioning as he led you out to the car.

 The car ride home was silent and you anxiously starred out the window as your mind swirled with the possibilities of what had gone on in that meeting. When you pulled up to the house Grayson took a few moments, deep in thought, before pressing his lips to the back of your hand and getting out of the car, you following closely behind. You could tell whatever had happened in there was bothering him and he was torn over it and it killed you to not know, to not be able to help, but you didn’t want to push him.

 A couple of very quiet hours of walking on eggshells around Gray went by before he entered your bedroom and signed softly as he sat down next to you. You looked up at him from your laptop stopping whatever the hell you were doing to keep yourself from going crazy from the tension and silence. You shut your laptop and look at him waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you. You’re probably really confused, I just needed to figure it out myself because I know you’re going to be upset.” Gray says softly looking down as he intertwined his fingers with yours. You shift and move close to him now even more curious.  Gray sighs rubbing his eyes as he figures out how to form the words to tell you what he needed to tell you. “The team has set up a bit of a radio/venue tour for me and E. It was a last-minute thing, everything fell into place, and they couldn’t pass it up. They didn’t even talk to us about it until today… They need us to leave in 2 days for London to kick it off. They said it’d probably last about 3 to 4 months.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and take a second processing his words. “Can they even do that? I mean it’s your channel you get to make these decisions. You could say no if you wanted.” You barely saw Gray as it is and you live together, hell you’re married, but this would just drive a wedge between you two since you wouldn’t be able to go with him having your own job and life to take care of here in LA. You didn’t have the freedom like he did to just up and leave for 4 months.

Gray shook his head and looked at you. “I know I know. We can…to an extent. But these guys have really helped us out and this is a really great opportunity for me and E. We’d be able to reach a bigger audience and it’d be really good for the channel-”

 “Wait, you’ve been walking around all day moping your ass off for something that you WANT to happen… can’t you see that this is a horrible idea? Why can’t you just say no? Why are you letting these people control you and your lively hood?” You question pulling away from him.

 “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you because I knew you’d react like this which quite frankly is a little selfish… This is a really good opportunity for us and it hurts that you don’t support that!” Gray said raising his voice a bit. You opened your mouth and stood up from the bed looking at him in disbelief.

 “I’m being selfish?! Oh ok, I’m sorry that I don’t want to be away from my HUSBAND who I barely get to see EVEN THOUGH WE LIVE IN THE SAME HOUSE!”

 “Oh my God. I’m sorry I’m working every fucking day to make sure that we can support ourselves, that we can afford this house, that you don’t have to work as many hours as a normal human being. I’m so fucking sorry for being the fucking back bone of this relationship.”

 You had no idea how you guys had gotten to this point but there was no turning back now, everything was coming out and there was no stopping either of you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You have probably the easiest job in the world! People would kill to have your life. You’re ‘work’ is doing dumb shit with your brother every day and posting it online! But I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize doing something you love was such a burden, I didn’t know I was such a fucking burden! …And just to be clear, YOU asked me to stop working all together, I decided to keep it to part-time so that everything didn’t fall on you, but apparently that means nothing to you! I’m sorry for fucking caring about you”

 You exchanged a few more choice and heated words back and forth for a while. You couldn’t believe he had the nerve to call you selfish when he’s the one up and leaving for the sake of “getting more followers” when the man has 18 million fans already. Gray opened his mouth to speak again but you couldn’t stand this anymore.

 “Grey I think you should go stay with Ethan. Obviously, we’re not going to get anywhere with this except just hurting each other more. I need space to think and I can’t do that with you here.” Your voice cracked a bit and at this point tears had been streaming down your cheeks for a while. Gray closed his mouth and just nodded. You were both too tired to continue with a conversation that was going nowhere. Gray stood up and left the room without say anything and made his way to E’s place, which was technically the same house just a different part, but it didn’t matter, it was far enough for you to not feel like you were suffocating anymore.

You sat down on the bed processing what had just gone down before letting a few more tears fall from your eyes as you screamed into your pillow. As clique as it sounded, it really works.

 You were exhausted and didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up the next morning from the sun rudely shining in your face once again. You instinctively reached over to Gray’s side of the bed only to be met with an empty cold spot as memories of last night’s events replayed in your head. You didn’t want to get up, knowing the house was going to feel cold and empty, like it was swallowing you whole without his presence in it, but you also knew you couldn’t stand to speak to him yet, it would only end in more fighting. The argument was stupid to begin with but it turned into something serious as you both continued to share hidden feelings that got magnified out of proportion. You didn’t know what this meant for you especially with Gray leaving, but you had no choice but to just wait and find out.

In the past 2 days, the only sight you saw of Gray was him quickly coming into the house to gather some of his things to pack in his bags. You still hadn’t spoken. You were both stubborn as hell and it defiantly didn’t help the situation. So that night you laid down yet again in the cold, deprived of his warmth and presence.

 When you woke up the next morning, you weren’t really sure what had come over you but you just knew you needed to see him. You practically ran over to Ethan’s side of the house and didn’t even knock as you burst through the door. Your heart raced and you gently called Gray’s name but was met with silence. The house was empty. E’s bags were gone and so were Gray’s. He was just gone, without even saying goodbye. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks and you stood there in silence. You were sad and angry but you weren’t sure what feeling was more dominate. You couldn’t believe he’d leave like that and you were heartbroken you had missed him.

 The next couple of days were a whirlwind of emotions. You had tried to call Gray a few times only to be met with his voicemail. You always made some excuse as to why he wasn’t picking up but you knew he was most likely just ignoring you. Why was he so damn stubborn? You listened to the radio shows they were on and you could swear he heard the pain in his voice, but he was so good at laughing it off that it was invisible to everyone else, but you heard it.

 It had been over three weeks since you and Gray had last spoke, which was the night of the fight. You had managed to get a hold of Ethan who sounded so desperate to help you guys but then he’d say things like “oh we have bad reception here” or “Gray’s busy” and you knew he was just trying to be a good brother and saying what Gray told him to say.

 You were driving home from work listening to the boy’s latest broadcast. You scoffed a little as the interviewer brought up their relationships and questioned how all was going, what the future held for their family, etc. Grayson covered it up with “Oh it’s really great. We’re really good. Happy.” It was a lie. The audience had no idea. The listeners would have no idea. No one had any idea what your reality was. Everyone saw these celebrities and their families as perfect people, absolute couple goals if you will, they saw the love and beauty, they saw the pictures you meticulously chose to post, they saw what you wanted them to see. They didn’t see the pain, or the long nights, the fights, or the going to bed without your husband by your side, they didn’t see the struggles.

 You were deep in your thoughts that the next few moments were all a blur. It was about 7 o’clock, already dark out and you drove carefully, LA was a mad house at this hour, especially since it was Friday night. You proceed forward when your light turns green yet within moments your car is jolted to the side. The loud horn blared in the background, it sounded so distant, so faint. It took a moment for you to realize you were on your side. Your head pounded and your vision was blurry. You could faintly make out people yelling trying to talk to you and your mind screamed to just say something to them but your body failed. The red and blue flashing lights streaming through your shattered windshield was the last thing you remembered before everything faded into black, a piercing ringing in your ears before complete silence.

When you woke up, it wasn’t to the usual rude sunlight you were used to pouring through your window. No, rather, the room was very dark, an annoying beeping filled your ears, and you felt a heaviness weighing down your arm. It took a few seconds for you to actually collect yourself. Your throat felt like the fucking desert, your right arm was in a cast and sling, and your body felt like it had been hit with a ton of bricks. You shifted and looked over to see Gray holding your hand, his head rested on your arm as he slept. You moved your hand softly and nudged him.

“Gray… Gray… Grayson fucking Dolan wake up.” You managed to croak out before Gray finally shot up, his expression a bit disoriented before lighting up at the sight of you awake. He didn’t even hesitate as he pulled you into a hug, gripping you softly, scared he’d hurt your damaged body even further.

“Oh my god…Y/N… I’m so sorry... I’m so so sorry. Baby I thought-” Gray started to ramble before you cut him off, gently shushing him.

“Just shut up please.… Don’t think about anything. Just tell me you love me and hold me tighter.” You whispered softly as you held back tears. You vaguely remembered what happened but in this moment, you chose not to.

“I love you, I do… I love you so fucking much and I could never say it enough.” Gray whispered back, fighting his own tears. You and Grayson just held each other for a while before a nurse finally came in.

 “Oh, you’re awake. Thank God. We were getting a bit  worried.” She said and she walked over to your bed and poured you a glass of water. Gray sat back in his seat but kept holding your hand in one of his while he held the cup up for you with the other so you could drink from the straw. The nurse asked some basic questions and checked your vitals before looking at you seriously. “Do you remember anything that happened?”

 You sighed laying your head back and closed your eyes. Everything was a blur. “I was in an accident, that’s obvious. I remember sitting at the light listening to Gray on the radio. I remember driving forward when I got the green light. I remember the horn, it was loud but everything seemed to happen in slow motion so to me it sounded far away and distorted and then a jerk. I remember it was blurry but I could see my windshield shattered, I-I could see blood on my hands and I could feel it dripping down my face. I remember the sirens and the police lights and then nothing and now I’m here.” You concluded taking a deep breath and opening your eyes. Gray wiped a stray tear from his cheek and sniffled softly trying to cover up his crying. The nurse nodded and took some notes.

“That’s good you remember. Yes, you were in an accident. It was a drunk driver. He ran the red and t-boned you. Your car flipped three times. You broke your right arm and three ribs. You twisted your leg bad but it’s not broken or anything. You hit your head bad and have a few stitches and a severe concussion and you’ve been unconscious for the past three days.” The nurse said gently trying to fill you in without scaring you. You nodded softly and thanked her before she left.

 You turned to Grayson and squeezed his hand. “Hey. It’s ok. I’m ok. Please don’t cry.” Grayson chuckled and shook his head wiping his eyes again. “Damn I thought I covered it up… You know me too well.”

 The next couple of days were spent trying to get your strength back. It was a bit more than a week before you were able to go home. The doctors just wanted to make sure you had no neuro damage because you were out for so long. You had a brace on your leg to help but you could walk… kind of… that is when Grayson actually let you. At home Grayson waited on you hand and foot and made sure you were ALWAYS comfortable.

 It had been about a week and you convinced Gray to let you have some bit of freedom. Grayson finally stopped sleeping on the couch as you convinced him he wasn’t going to crush you or hurt you.

 You stirred in your sleep and reached over to pull Grayson’s warm body closer to your freezing one, but you were met with his empty cold pillow. You furrowed your eyebrows as you opened your eyes. You checked your phone for the time, 2:35am. Shit.

 You groaned softly as you pushed yourself up, your whole body still aching and screaming at you to lie down again but you needed to go find your husband. You threw on your robe and slowly made your way out of the bedroom and to the kitchen/living room area. The house was dark except for a single lamp dimly lighting the sofa area. You watched as Grayson sat on the couch wearing only his plaid pajama pants, starting at the black TV in from of him. When you made your way to him you gently placed your hand on his shoulder, careful not to scare him. He looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot and you could tell, even in the poor lightly, that he’d been crying.

“Gray? Love? What are you doing up?” You questioned as you sat beside him wrapping your arm around his shoulder. He opened his mouth to respond but simply shook his head as he buried his face in the palm of his hands, soft cries escaping his lips. You pulled him close and just held him letting him calm down.

 “Gray baby what’s wrong?” You questioned gently as his cries subsided. He lifted his head to look at you and pulled you close to him.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry...”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for”

“Yes, I do…I fucked up… I made you believe you were worthless to me, that you were selfish and then I just left… I’m a terrible husband... I mean who the fuck leaves his wife in the middle of an argument like that and goes half way across the whole damn world refusing to even talk to her on the phone. I’m so fucked.” Gray speaks, voice cracking softly ever so often. This is the first either of you had spoken about the fight. In light of everything that happened you had thought you would just move on, but it was clear it was still a crushing reality.

 “And I… I could have lost you Y/N…You could have died and the last thing I would have said to you would have been something so crushing, telling you you’re a burden, making you believe I hated you…I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself…” Gray whispers looking down at the ground ashamed. You sighed wiping away tears from your cheeks before cupping his cheeks in your hands and making him look at you.

 “I didn’t die. I right here. I’m ok. We were lucky. If anything we should be looking at this as a second chance. We’re not finished. Our story isn’t over. I still have so much love to give you. I’m not finished with you Grayson Dolan. There’s so many adventures we still need to on, I still haven’t given you a baby yet, or taught you how to actually cook a damn meal. Yeah, you may be an ass sometimes, but you’re mine, so don’t you think for a minute I would die on you without kissing you one last time, or reminding you that your fans love me more than you...” You giggled sniffling softly at the joke. When you and Gray went public with your relationship the fans were so supportive and loving that Gray was constantly saying that they loved you more than him, so it became a running joke between everyone. It may be the Dolan Twin’s channel, but you were the star.

Grayson shook his head chuckling and kissed you softly. “I love you so much Y/N Dolan. You are the most caring selfless person I know and I have no idea how you can love me, but I thank God every day that you do.” Grayson smiled before kissing you passionately. You both cuddled on the couch for a while, neither of you tired anymore, just feeling content in each other’s presences.

The next day Grayson sat down with Ethan and their team and made sure the rest of the tour was canceled. Grayson and Ethan agreed they wanted more control over their work and had their managers and marketing team back off and those who didn’t were fired. After business was done, Gray and E sat down in front of the camera and made a video to the fans. They explained what had happened over the last few weeks and really opened up about their lives. They let the fans know that they would be taking a short break to focus on their family and when they came back they would start making content that they actually loved, and it would be on their own time and not just for the sake of feeling obligated to post. As the video came to a close Grayson talked to the camera about how important this was to them and how they hoped the fans could support this because this is how it should have been a long time ago.

“So that’s that. It’s been rough, but we’re figuring it out. If these past couple of weeks have taught me anything it’s that life’s too short to be worried about this kind of stuff or to be mad at people. You need to focus on the now, on this moment. Hug the people close to you and tell them you love them, because you never know when they’ll be gone. I’m lucky to be given a second chance to love unconditionally and uncontrollably. I wish I would have realized that sooner but I’m so grateful I have now. Life’s too short not to love. And please know we love you guys and we’re so grateful for all the continued support through everything. You guys are unreal. Thank you for everything… Until next time. Peace.”

[nostalgicphan]

the one i’ll always love

Complete - 1065 words

life couldn't get any better than this, phil thought to himself.

(or the fic where dnp decide to go thrifting on a rainy day)

[read on ao3]

It was a normal day in November, cold with a breeze that carried with it the crisp breath of winter. Phil was sitting by the glass door in the lounge, opened a few inches so he could hear the rain pitter-pattering on the wooden balcony. It was moments like these he knew he’d miss this flat. While he was excited to move into his forever home with his partner, this flat had been the place of some very important memories, ones he’d carry with him for the rest of his life.

“So you’re the reason I’ve been freezing my ass off.” Phil turned around to see Dan, not angry with him but rather glowing with happy dimples and a pink nose that suggested just how cold he had been. 

“Sorry,” Phil giggled, as Dan joined him on the floor. 

“It’s okay. This is nice,” she said, burying their head in his shoulder. The two sat in silence for a few minutes, not needing anybody else but themselves. Phil thought to himself how perfect things were in this moment and reflected over how far they’d come since they’d met. He smiled. Nothing could be better than this.

Dan was the one to break the silence. 

“Let’s go out,” he said, muffled through Phil’s jumper. 

“What? Now?”

“Yea, why not? We have umbrellas.”

Phil turned and pressed his forehead against the top of Dan’s head. “Where would we go?”

“I dunno. We could visit that charity shop a couple blocks away.”

At that, Phil pulled away. “Dan,” he said, smiling, “We’re getting ready to move house, we really shouldn’t be buying more stuff.”

“Fuck that, I wanna find some matching Christmas jumpers. And I’ve been searching for the perfect dress to wear the next time I take promo pictures for my book, but all the ones I’ve seen online are boring.”

“You could buy that strawberry dress?”

“Nah, it’s pretty but it doesn’t much fit my aesthetic.”

Phil scoffed. “Your aesthetic.”

“Shut up!” Dan said, dimples showing again. Xey got up off the floor and reached for Phil’s hands. “Come on, if we go now we’ll have a couple hours to shop before it gets dark.”

-

As they walked down the streets of London, Phil smiled to himself. They were holding hands and it was perfect, it was everything they’d been wanting in the past eleven years for themselves. 

“This is it,” Dan said, voice slightly muffled through his black cloth mask. 

They entered the small shop. There were a couple people roaming around, but the store was otherwise empty. A short person with shoulder-length black hair and dangly earrings greeted Dan and Phil from the register and let them know they could ask them for help with anything.

Phil pulled a grey T-shirt out from the rack in front of him. It had a picture of Sonic on it, and he turned to show it to Dan, but moon was nowhere to be seen. He sighed and stood on his tiptoes, searching for the familiar curly mop of brown hair that was bound to stick out above the surprisingly short clothes racks. 

Meanwhile, Dan was exploring the section full of “woman’s” clothes. He pulled out a long white skirt and held it up to his waist, ignoring the staring customer at the other end of the rack. “God, I wish I could try things on,” he mumbled to xemself. That was just the unfortunate reality of the moment. It wasn’t that bad, as it was a rule meant to protect everyone’s safety, but it had led to Dan previously purchasing a couple sweaters that were much larger than intended by accident. Not that they minded, but it wouldn’t be the same situation with a skirt.

“There you are- ooh, are you going to get that?” Phil said, having finally found Dan. Moon spun around, still holding the skirt at their waist, and smiled, making her eyes go all crinkly and leaving Phil’s heart skipping a couple beats. “I think so! It quite suits me, doesn’t it?”

Behind them, the customer made a point of sighing loudly before leaving to a different aisle. Neither of them cared to notice.

“It most certainly does suit you,” Phil said. They stared at each other for a few seconds, until Phil remembered the shirt in his hand. “Look what I found!” Dan laughed, feeling the material and exclaiming, “It’s perfect for you! Though it feels quite soft, so I might accidentally steal it to wear as a pyjama shirt.” Phil rolled his eyes and Dan laughed again. 

They both turned back to the racks, pointing out ridiculous clothes and expressing their regret whenever one of them found a perfect piece too small for either of them. Phil moved on to the holiday section to search for jumpers while Dan continued looking through dresses.

-

“I just found the perfect dress,” Phil heard from behind him. He turned around and froze. There was Dan, smiling down at the black dress xey held in front of moonself. It had sleeves of lace and a fitted waist that turned into an ankle-length skirt of layered sheer black material. “You can’t tell with the way I’m holding it, but the skirt at the very inside is red!” Dan said, lifting up the top layers of the skirt to show it to Phil. 

Phil, who was still at a loss for words. He was mesmerized with the way Dan simply radiated joy, with the way he knew exactly how wide her dimples were at the moment although he couldn’t see them under the mask. He loved the person Dan had become, how confident he now was in expressing xer true self. He could remember a time where wearing ripped skinny jeans and nail polish was Dan being brave, and, just as he was back then, he’s so proud of them.

“Well? Why are you just staring at me? Tell me what you think of the dress!” Dan laughed, but he knew why Phil was staring.

Phil blinked. “I think it looks perfect.”

“God, you’re such an idiot.” Red showed at the sides of their mask, and Phil giggled.

“I already found some jumpers. Let’s go check out,” he said, taking Dan’s hand in his own. And together they walked to the front of the store.

Life couldn’t get any better than this, Phil thought to himself.

[iesorno]

We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper. We just kept on going with it all until we ended up with a mammoth interview going into every corner of his mind, from practice and accessing his creativity, to grafting to make a living outside of the norms of the mainstream.

I think it’s a fascinating look into the practice, experiences and the will to succeed that powers Adam, as well as a window into the wider world of underground creators.

WARNING – GORE and some SEX

You can find Adam here

webstore                youtube                facebook

  ZL – Hi Adam! Thanx for agreeing to this interview, hope you enjoy it. 

Let’s get introductions out of the way. For anyone that doesn’t know, can you tell us your name, where you grew up and where you currently live?

AY – My name is Mr. Adam Yeater. I grew up a swamp rat in Florida and traveled around a lot. I finally settled down in Arizona as a desert rat. I went from one Florida to another. 

ZL – For a little bit more background. You clearly enjoy underground and mini comix, so how did you first find out about them and what were you interested in before you started reading them?

AY – I discovered zines through the early Death/Grind Metal scene in the 90s. There was no internet so everything was done via snail mail. I used to get so much great printed matter. Demo tapes, fliers for bands, albums and review zines. I eventually started my own zine called Subliminal Message. We lived in Ohio in a shit hole little town. Trying to get high, fighting, reading comic books, listening to Metal, Punk Rock, Hardcore Rap and skateboarding.

I was a very industrious broke ass 14 year old kid. I found a way to get some of the mainstream metal record companies to send me promo stuff for their bands for review. I was getting stacks of stuff in the mail. The record companies were mailing backstage passes to me! My mom thought I was running a mail scam.

I once did a phone interview with Chris Barnes when he was in Cannibal Corpse. Chris called for an interview and my mom picked up the phone. He was like “Are you a fucking kid? Holy shit! I usually do interviews with old dudes?” We talked for an hour and half about Metallica selling out. It was amazing. I idolized these weirdos and was getting to just hang out with them. 

I did an interview with Cro-Mags right when the original singer got out of prison. I did an interview with Entombed for my high school newspaper! I even interviewed the Goo Goo Dolls when they were on Metalblade Records just for the hell of it. Those metal bands were my heroes. They treated me as an equal and I was this punk kid. They all encouraged me to keep at it. I was getting first hand knowledge of trying to make a living as a creative in American society from them. The good and bad. 

ZL – What did it feel like the first time you ever spoke to one of your heroes? It must have felt pretty excellent, right?

AY – It was awesome talking to those bands, it was a real rush. I would get so nervous. I got to hang with some of the bands before and after the shows. All these dudes just embraced me as one of them. I am super tall, so I looked a lot older than I was. I was also a big nerd for the metal scene so I was turning them onto all this other new stuff I was getting. I think they saw me as an oddity. Then we moved to Tucson where there was no metal scene. 

ZL – Is that why you stopped making your zine then, moving to Tucson?

AY – Yeah, moving from Ohio to Arizona. The scene was pretty lame in AZ. No bands would come through Tucson at the time. So I ditched the ‘zine and started a Grindcore band with some friends. We did pretty well for a local death metal act. We played shows with Napalm Death and smoked a ton of weed with Sadistic Intent, that was cool. 

Lots of drugs and drama, bandmates stealing from each other. . . even more drugs. It was a very fucked up time in my life that I am happy to have survived. 

ZL – At what point did you get back into zines and start to think that self-publishing comics was something you could do or that you were good at and wanted to do more with, to just keep going and going and see how far you could take it?

AY – After the band and metal zine I started printing my own mini comics and comic books. I really got into self publishing and art because I had nothing else really. My last “legit” job was as a janitor before I decided to do art and publish full time. I figured I would rather starve as an artist than starve scrubbing shit off toilets. Art is the only thing I have ever been really good at. So I just keep doing it. 

ZL – Circling back to get a bit more from your background for a minute, what first turned you into a comic reader and from there, did you move to be a collector or fan, if that distinction makes sense!! And where in all of that did you start making your own comics?

AY- I was into comics a lot when I was young as a collector and fan before I moved into extreme music. I was keeping up with the medium but was focused on the death metal band I was in.

After the band. I was doing paintings and fine art for quite a while. I had also done comics on the side but my fine art was doing well. Then the housing market crashed and nobody was buying art for foreclosed homes. 

Luckily I had been doing an extreme comic strip in the metal ‘zines and in the mini comics I was doing. I saw that a local comic convention had started. So I printed them all up and booked a table. I sold out of my first printing and a bunch of art. That is when One Last Day started. 

ZL – How did that feel, selling out of books like that? I’m guessing it must have been quite a boost as you carried on and set up an online store! What was the convention like, if you remember at all, did you have a good time there chatting and meeting fans and creators? A lot of people talk about how much the community at a convention matters to them, was that important to you at the time?

AY – It was a real boost. From that little bit of seed money I have been able to keep the ball rolling and have kept printing comics ever since. The comics scene in Tucson in the early 90s was really small and bare bones. It was me and like 2 other indie guys actively printing their own comics. I have encouraged and fostered so many people to make their own comics since then. Many writers and artists from the Tucson scene are now in the mainstream and indie comics system. 

The couple who started the Tucson Comic Con have been the best thing for our local comix and art scene. Rather than neglecting local and indie comics they embraced and promoted them. I was so lucky to be in a place where the local comic convention focused heavily on independent comic artists. 

I see kids that I taught inking classes to that are now publishing their comics on Amazon. Kids that now give me their books and thank me for all the support and inspiration I gave them. It is humbling. Before the ‘rona I was leaving 1000s of mini comics all over town instead of fliers for the last 15 years. It has exposed people in this town and state to my art and a world of comic books they never knew existed. 

ZL – Speaking of coronavirus, I’m wondering how much that has affected your income currently? Do you rely heavily on con sales or do you have a whole set of ways to get sales, which is a terrible way of asking that I’m really interested in how you generate sales for your work, what venues and sources and what sort of percentage of sales comes from them. Have you got a regular set of fans that buy everything, are you using email communications, just facebook?

AY – In today’s art and comics world every successful artist has to be a little bit Andy Worhol and a lot of P. T. Barnum. Otherwise nobody will give a shit about you. So I have a ton of different ways to move my stuff. The website is my main hub but I do small zine fests and shows whenever I can. I have been doing OK but had to switch gears during the crisis. My online sales picked up so that helped a lot. I also have new books coming out all this year. I think that helps too.

Comic conventions at one time were a really good source of income when I first started doing them. I was making great money. Every year it has become progressively less of a viable option for creators like me. The big comic shows are just pop culture festivals. The last few years a lot of the larger shows could care less about indie comics. Table prices and entry fees are way too high for a self publisher or upcoming creator to make any money. Especially out of state shows. Hotel, travel, etc. Because of this I was only doing smaller zine/comic shows and focusing on my online sales already. The virus was a great reason to really focus on my online presence. 

ZL – I first saw your work through a facebook group, one of the indie comics groups that sort of specializes in small press superhero and space operas, and I was wondering whether you think those groups help the creators reach more readers, or whether they are all more community pages as in it’s all people that want to make comics and they’re all working to support their own bubbles? (Obviously I’m exaggerating a little, they often have horror and then there’s oddball work that pops up, but there do seem to be a lot of big boob bad girls and massive muscles in some kind of genre thing. )

AY- I look at social media differently than most. I talk shit about comics on it but I have never used it as a political soapbox or a place to talk about my “personal journey”. I post my art and comix. That is it. I speak through my art. I like to “post and ghost”. I feel I am a healthier person for it. 

This year I have slowly been taking my art off all the platforms. They are not an unbiased purveyor of ideas. Like the original internet was intended for. Social media is making us all sick. Scientifically proven sick. 

I have grown to hate the self imposed censorship imposed on social media by advertisers and cancel culture. We as artists should have the right to dictate our expression by taking risks. Without having to worry about some simp nerd in Silicon Valley shadow banning or blacklisting us. 

These leeches profit heavily on ALL of us. Especially artists. They work to infringe on our rights and hinder our freedom to express. The platforms are privatizing our existence. Fakebook and the Twits are just digital emotional vampires. 

They should be paying you a fee to use your content and sell it to their stupid advertisers. They make billions off you and you know what you get, a little dopamine for that “like”. Wow, sweet trade off. Not!!

We all need to stand up in some way as artists. Post fucked up art and weird shit all the time! I wanna see a sea of artistically drawn dicks and vaginas. Shitposts, and fucked up memes on my “news” feed. Random acts of artistic defiance. We need confrontational art more now than ever! I want to see original artwork that pushes against cultural dogmas and shitty societal norms. 

Instead I see oceans of fan art and trash pop culture mashups. Useless e-rage and cat pics. Art without confrontation is just advertising at this point. 

ZL – Now, that’s an interesting one, because there are two sides to the argument on this and I sort of flop wildly between the two without any great reason. I can see why social media is not going to allow seas of dicks – they are easy triggers to SEE, so they’re easy to switch off to maintain acceptability, it seems pointless to me, but is important to a lot of people, so… There’s also the issue of managing genuine freedom to express and people posting images of tentacles raping 6 year old girls and how you manage to monitor that, so it’s just EASIER not to try and figure it and blanket ban it all. 

What I think calls bullshit on their motives for me is that they’ll censor that, but allow neo-nazi lies or channels where people openly spout homophobic, racist or sexist bile. There’s a stinking dichotomy there that calls a lie to their talk of community and keeping us safe from damaging content. 

I certainly wouldn’t want to have to be the poor sod that sifted through all of this stuff to check it though!

Pippa Creme and the Pearl Necklace – Dexter Cockburn

Equally, with work like yours or – to call in someone else I follow who is always getting bumped from facebook – Dexter Cockburn – who does some great porn comics. I see these things as being completely ok and not deserving of banning, but seeing cape comics and how innately sexualised and soft porn like the women are made to look, that makes me feel very dubious, it seems wrong in that context, as it’s so pervasive and so unspoken and clandestine. 

AY – Exactly. It is weird how the mainstream sexulizes it’s heroes. The guys look just as bad. It is a form of repressed erotica. I think it all looks so funny. Balloon shaped breasts or the massive man bulge. There is a big market for that stuff so more power to them. 

It just seems erotica in comix is ok for some and not others. The censorship online is selective. Dexter is a comix friend of mine and a great example. The guidelines are so ambiguous and filled with jargon it becomes nonsense. 

I totally get censorship for criminal reasons. That is a no brainer. What I saw was not that. 

I saw the platforms actively destroy the online followings of some extreme horror artist’s I was following. Some of us had built large fan bases on Myspace and brought our fans over to FB with us. When FB started shutting accounts down it crushed a lot of those artist’s online communities and sales. A lot of artists had to start all new accounts with different names causing them to lose 1000s of followers. Some just gave up or stopped posting extreme art all together. They are still doing it to some of the Ero Goro artists from Japan. It is really fucked up.

ZL – That’s part of the curse and benefit of social media though, they give and then they take away when you’ve made them successful. I do wonder what we can do about that though, maybe they should migrate back to Myspace, maybe the whole retreat to mailing lists is the answer? I don’t know, we need community spaces but we need them to not go dark and end up being hiding places for crime or the dark web. What do you do about it, eh? Maybe you should start curating work into new mail lists and have link sites for different peoples’ interests!!

AY – I like that idea. I have always wanted to do a monthly brochure of underground creators. Like a double sided mailer. I might do one for the Smalll Press Express to hand out at shows. Getting the word out is why I do the YouTube channel. Nobody is shedding light on the best part of comics. The odd, voiceless, strange and marginalized. I think anything that promotes the underground scene and unites indy comic artists is good. I feel every little thing helps. We are all in this sinking ship together. The mainstream comics people keep poking holes in the boat. The indy creators have to keep bailing it out.

ZL – Moving on from that unanswerable conundrum… Is community important to you and comics? Is publishing and buying and communicating with other creators a way of building a place in the wider world for the kinds of things that you enjoy and the kind of things you want to make?

AY – What community. The comics community? 

It just saddens me so much lately. The internet and social media had so much potential to dissolve physical, cultural and social boundaries to our communication around the world. 

Instead most people have developed the attention span of a gnat. I doubt anyone will actually read all this. So I am just gonna lay it all out. How I see it as an outsider looking in.

There is a massive world of art and comics that is ignored in the west. It is where I exist as a creative. I work with toy making friends in South Korea and send comix pages to Artizines in Spain. Send instant messages to slap sticker artists in Japan. All in a few seconds!! This used to take weeks, even months via phone and mail. Many here just take this shit for granted. 

I had a “stick poke” tattooist from Taiwan ask if she could use one of my mini comic images in her little shop. How sick is that!! I live for that!!

I have worked with 100s of the most creative and amazing artists from all over the world. I have had enough love and inspiration from the global art community to last me two life times!!

  The American comics community is a weird story. My books sell well. My fans are awesome. First time readers always come back. I do really well at every comic convention I have ever done, even small ones. I have printed, sold or given away thousands of my mini-comics, floppies and magazines. All over this crazy earth. 

Somehow I have largely existed as an outsider in Western comics. Other than a few supportive cats in the southwest comics scene like Brian Pulido. I feel like they largely just ignore my comics. I have had a few pros refer to my work as ‘zines’ as a sort of insult. 

I started Blood Desert as a big middle finger to the whole corporate comics crowd. The main character is stuck with a permanent middle finger. Good luck co-opting that sucktards. 

When I complete the World of Knonx series I wanna only make comics that are a massive fuck you to that whole unimaganitive self indulgent English centric corporate comics world. I wanna make comics for shitheads all over the world like me.

Most of the comics in the mainstream indie world are leftovers from that hokey auto-bio movement. All of them are still pining over Crumb and Pekar to this day. 

Who knew making super boring comics about your masturbation habits and history no one cares about would be considered as works of high literary art. I guess it is an easy claim to make when the critics also work for the publishers of said high grade comic “art.”

That is just the indy crowd. At this point most people’s knowledge of modern comics comes from dopey stupor hero comics and movies that are made for mouthbreathers by ex-television writers. 

These books are made by “Professional” comic book writers that get top billing over a bunch of lazy artists. These are the same “professionals” who waste their time all day on Twitter and YouTube race baiting each other and blathering nonsense about politics. Somehow they can never seem to get books out on time or any real work done. Go figure. 

Can we all just agree that the comics Youtubers are totally obnoxious. Normal people do not care about all your dumb nerd drama. The “comics news” channels love to foment drama in the industry to make money off of more views. They live to promote division among creators. Mind numbing 4 hour live streams of inane political blather. Interviewing the same old industry jobbers about some dopey superhero comic they made 20 years ago. Effete dorks gushing jizz in their whitey tighties over their wonton nostalgia.

These formerly bullied nerds bully each other constantly online. Doxing, Blacklisting, Censoring, Attacking and Canceling each other. Bunch of grade school kid popularity bullshit. I want absolutely NO part of either side’s dysfunctional cult. These sad people must love to live in a heightened state of anxiety. 

There are 100s of amazing prolific working storytellers chomping at the bit to talk about and sell their titles. Why not interview and promote these creators. Artists who choose not to engage in either side’s petty childish games. Those creators are largely ignored or admonished for not taking sides. 

The industry seems to only want to dwell in nostalgia? A Nostalgia that actually hurts creators. I really wanna talk about Alan Moore. 

Let’s all wax about the greatness of Watchmen ONE last time and finally let it go. Watchmen is the comic book Alan Moore won’t even have in his house because of the disdain he has for the American comics industry.

Comics culture could care less about Alan. They talk about his work gushing with praise. Then they call the man a nutter behind his back. 

The majority of the comics press treated him like a clown and discounted his opinions at every turn. 

Watchmen, the comic they keep in print just so Alan does not regain any of the rights back. 

By promoting and working on Watchmen in any way they are all pretty much saying fuck you to Alan. It is just accepted by everyone. “Oh well! We should just keep screwing this dude cause we all really love those characters.” It is shameful.

Shall I go on about the other creators that were screwed by this “industry”. Seigel, Shuster, Kirby, Finger, Simon and so many more.

The House of Morons track record with creatives is just as terrible. It would take all day to list the Big two’s transgressions against their freelancers. 

All their Editors in Chief make millions while their freelancers get crumbs.

Or maybe there is hope in the price gouging comic book store owners. They did nothing but complain about Diamond and the Big 2’s scams non stop for years. Then they still lap up everything they do or make like pablum. Accepting and still embracing this constant abuse. Over and over and over. I wonder if the majority of store owners are into BDSM? 

Should I bother mentioning all the sex predators that the major comics companies have been covering for?

So now after a long career and all my hard work building a loyal following I am supposed to kiss ass and play nice as a potential artist for them. I am supposed to work on shit I don’t care about? I get to beg for a job doing interior pages for less than minimum wage and no healthcare? No thanks. I am busy building my own worlds not piggybacking on the stolen worlds of others.

The US comics “industry” is kind of a total joke to me at this point. 

ZL – It sounds like you are existing as part of a community though, maybe not an American comics community, but an international underground art community, does that seem fair to say? 

AY – I was actually becoming a big part of the community for a popular comics Youtube channel for a minute until I was excommunicated. The two creators that host the channel constantly espouse to be a bastion for indie creators. As Maury Povich likes to say…” that is a lie.” 

The channel blacklisted me because of a mini comic I did showing cartoon portraits of accused sex predators and general jerks working in the American comics industry. 

I am not part of Comicsgate or any other stupid comics cult. I am not a lecherous ogre who harasses women at comics shows. I am a boring family man who makes weird comics. I speak through my art not by posting constant drama online.

I made a mini comic that someone didn’t like. That was it. Instead of finding out my side of things related to the matter these hosts just booted the videos my comics were featured in off their channel. They also had admins remove my posts off other platforms related to them. I was blatantly censored by these “artists.”

So looking back I think it had nothing to do with that mini comic. They have featured sexually violent work like Vigil’s. My stuff is tame in comparison. I feel they were threatened by my output and my dopey little youtube channel. Which is laughable. 

I have worked tirelessly my whole career to support marginalized creators in my community and around the world for over 20 years. 

At this point I would rather work with the people who get what I do and dwell in quiet obscurity rather than work with these kinds of self-serving troglodyte hacks that are so prevalent in the medium of modern mainstream comics and the art world. 

Most of these “pro comic artists” are just glorified fan artists with a little bit of stylized skill. I think that’s why all their books are so derivative of all the other stuff in the mainstream lexicon. They dwell in constant nostalgia and their work is proof of it. 

I actually feel sorry for them. To have so little faith in yourself that you have to try to take down other artists is such a sad pathetic way to live. 

One thing you can count on with some artists and comics creators. Their egos are as fragile as glass.

Comics culture in the US is steeped in all this kind of nonsensical dogma. It has become an idiotic cult of reactionary clones with Youtube and Twitter accounts. 

ZL – Thinking about that wider world of community and how there’s always been an underground arts community and sometimes people travelled through them, often linked to universities or small art publications. Do you feel like that community is something that is now easier to achieve and to curate for yourself with social media, but it involves a lot of effort and commitment to do that and that’s why it takes those in a scene, those dug into that creative feeling, to do that kind of curation?

AY – I guess It is easier to find new stuff now, but there is a lot of oversaturation online. Lots of skilled but boring fan art. Way too much fan art online. 

All the crowdfunded stuff is pretty boring and derivative of the mainstream comics they say they hate. Plus there is a high failure rate. Very slow/low delivery rate on those projects that nobody likes to talk about.

I kind of wish the companies cracked down on all the IP theft at shows and online the way they do obscenity. Before the pandemic the comic conventions in the states sucked for indie creators because of all the fanart.

ZL – Yeah, that seems to be a big issue all round, but it’s also tricky as a lot of indie creators make bucks doing commissions of existing mainstream IP. I also think that the move from mini comics and zines to pop-culture sources and attempts to be as professional as professional comics has done a lot of unspoken damage. Yeah, sure, you get a lot of a crowd, but how many are BUYERS?

AY – That is why I stopped making any kind of fanart about 15 years ago including commissions. I think fan art and commissions are a crutch for artists to lean on.

To me it shows a lack of ability to tell stories or have faith in their own creations. They are too afraid to go all in and only make and sell their own comics. They wanna draw cool spidey pin-ups not tell stories with art. There is a huge difference between the two kinds of artists.

The best Mangaka spend their whole careers telling these long form epic stories. We should aspire to that aesthetic not do a bunch of cool variant covers. 

It is easy to draw an existing IP. The design and imaginative work was done for you. You are just a human copy machine. It takes a lot of time and faith to go all in on your own ideas. I think a lot of artists try it and just give up and fall back on selling fan art at shows.

I do great at shows without any fan art. You don’t need it. I think selling fan art actually hurts indie creators. They are selling books for our competition. 

If you just offer people something new and different and work hard to sell that work they will buy it. I offer people something that is unique. Not just another Deadpool print or sketch.

ZL – Do you see yourself as part of a comics lineage, either style or approach wise? Do you feel it’s important to leave your own mark on the world, hence the making of items rather than posting online, or are you interested in building a space for now or are you trying to just get out what needs to be got out to keep your brain quiet?

AY: Comics lineage is less of a thing now because of oversaturation in the medium. Everyone can make and print their own comics now. So the key is to have your own style of storytelling. I don’t like the autobio comics genre but at least they know how to tell a story. 

That’s why I think physical media is still very important. An artist is not curtailed by the formats of printing anymore. You can adjust your style to any kind of printing process now. It used to be the other way around.

Aesthetically I want my work to be as beautiful and be as prolific as Osamu Tezuka was. Dark and creepy as Hideshi Hino‘s. Confrontational and cooky as Mike Diana‘s. With a mad dose of the dark action of a 2000AD Magazine. 

Boiled Angel – Mike Diana

ZL – I don’t know if you’re old enough to remember the Mike Diana obscenity case and the outcome of that ridiculous situation? It was big, even in UK comic magazines at the time. I remember them telling him that he wasn’t even allowed to draw AT HOME and that they would be coming in to check that he wasn’t drawing! So, I guess there’s that as a check to what we were saying about social media silencing creators, it’s not like it’s a new phenomenon, sadly. 

AY – I started getting into making fucked up comics at the same time as him. I was making One Last Day which is nowhere near as extreme or pornographic as Mike’s stuff, but it was really violent. His case scared me into being real careful who I sent my books to. 

ZL – When did you first encounter Mike Diana’s work, then and what’s so inspiring about it?

AY- I have seen more of his work recently. I like the absolute absurdity of it. It was so hard to get out here in the west coast unless you ordered it. I am not a big fan of pornographic or cheesecake comics. I do like some of the cruder stuff that is just too weird to be arousing. The work exists more as a piece of weird art rather than porn in some odd way. I have not gotten to read a ton of his stuff. He is actually a big fan of mine on Instagram. The punk rock kid in me loves seeing a block of “likes” by Mike. I have mailed him a bunch of my comix for trade.If he is reading this “Yo man! You gotta mail me some of your books!” Heh! 

ZL – I’m also intrigued to know how you found out about 2000AD as my understanding is that it’s not well known over in the US. What’s your favourite strip from there?

AY: I got a huge run of the re printed 2000AD and Dredd comics from a comic store when I was 13. I really love the old Rogue Trooper strips the most. They were some of the best sci fi war comics made essentially. Those artists were all emulating those old Action war comics they were reading

Rogue Trooper – War Machine by dave Gibbons and Will Simpson

Rogue Trooper – War Machine is a work of comics art. It definitely inspired a lot in my Blood Desert series. “The Fatties” stories in the early Judge Dredd strips are some of my all time favorite comics. I have read them a hundred times. It is just so nuts. I love that line between absurd and gross.

The Fatties – Judge Dredd

ZL – Oh yeah, those early works were really UK punk as punk can be! I’m surprised you like Rogue Trooper more than Nemesis though, Pat Mills and especially Kev O’Niell’s art is extreme as extreme art gets in comics back then. You mention in many interviews I’ve read that Japanese comics, particularly horror comics, have been an influence. How much influence do you see from Japanese horror comics in small press and self-publishing circles, it’s something I see a lot of in the creators I follow for sure, but I’m wondering what your experience is?

AY – I follow the underground Japanese scene pretty well. I am pen pals/friends with some of the newer japanese horror artists. It is funny. They all wanna get published here and I want to get published there. 

There are huge barriers in Japanese comics for Westerners. I would kill to get World of Knonx published in Japan. It is specifically designed and made for a world audience. It needs no translation. Manga publishers should be more open to Western comic artists the way we have.

I have grown very weary of all manga flooding the market lately. Most of it is just nicer formated versions of reprints of that older stuff I read in the 80s. It is not the weird upcoming stuff you see on the shelves. 

The American publishers bend over backwards to reproduce a lot of Manga but largely ignore American artists working at the same level of productivity. It has become a one way street. 

ZL – I see that a lot of publishers seem less inclined to have cartoony horror, they seem to have decide it must all be cheesecake or more realistic, I mean, you’re not going to see the likes of Shaun McManus on Swamp Thing art chores nowadays, which seems absurd because cartooning lets you play up emotions or gore without it getting all pornographic and seedy. I wonder if part of it is that as well, they want everything in that style. It’s also something that’s changed in horror as well. You think about something like Saw and how realistic those horror movie effects are compared to, say Friday the 13th, it’s changed what horror is. You could laugh at those things, not so much Saw, they’re far more EARNEST and wanting to show things REALISTICALLY.

AY- Yes! Exactly. I have been embracing the cartoon aspect of comics very heavily. Cartooning is dying in comic books not just in the horror scene. Comics have lost the ability to move the fans to a desired emotion.

I think it has to do with the industry’s reliance on writers. Artists are usually more creative and experimental than writers. Artists think in images and writers think in words. Writers can hammer out stories all day. The storytelling artist has to really think about every panel in a conscious way and how it will move the story. Images should drive comics not inane narrative. I should be able to understand the story in a comic by just looking at the art. If not then both the writer and artist have failed. Being able to type does not automatically make your stories interesting. Kirby’s cartooning made all those comics great not Stan and his stupid dialogue. 

  Personally I don’t wanna spend 12 hours drawing the perfect building in a panel that no one will care about. I wanna move the story. Cartooning creates a fluidity through the pages that perfect structure loses. Manga is great at moving you through a story in that way. 

ZL – So, in all of the ways you make things and with all of your feelings about being a part of US comics and international makers, what place do you see your new youtube videos playing into what you do? Is it more boredom relief or is it a way of pumping up awareness of the community you enjoy?

AY: I do the YouTube channel for fun and to shed light on independent creators. I also wanna try to create a new narrative in comics. Not just regurgitate the one fed to us by reactionary corporate comix culture.

ZL – Why the trash talking of something at the end? I ask because I have this pet theory that there’s a strong link between people doing underground comics currently, especially over the top gross out ones, and wrestling and I’m wondering whether that’s a bunch of nonsense I’ve made up, or whether this is like the trash talk between wrestlers, a funny sort of way to make a point about something, to build some low stakes drama? Or, is it a way to disarm a serious point by making it funny! 

AY: A little bit of both I guess. There is some carney action to all creatives who do it for a living. I think a long life as an artist hardens you. 

Comic book artists could learn a lot from Tattooists. Talk to a hardcase who has been making money everyday drawing. The one doing it in your hometown the longest. That is someone who can teach you a lot. They have had to put up with so much stupid shit from customers and society. They have a confidence and respect for their trade few artists do. They have real confidence that is inspiring. They won’t even fuck with some stupid walk-in. They are not gonna deal with some kid who wants a shitty Mickey Mouse tat. Some hokey fan art commission bullshit. People pay them good fucking money for their original style, skill and creativity. Comic artists conceded all that when they settled for being what amounts to storyboarders for ex-TV writers. 

Artists have to always remember Western society devalues you at every turn. You really have to learn to sell your art and self. Your skin better be real thick. You hear “no” and that “you will fail” constantly! You will work your ass off just to barely make it in most creative fields. 

ZL – Yeah, that really comes with the territory, especially if you’re coming at it from an underprivileged background, art seems to still be a very middle class opportunity and still seems to need strong patronage to make a living, so if you’re aren’t populist or aren’t from the right background you need to get money from somewhere else or learn to live cheap. 

AY – Starting out it is always a struggle in any field but comics has kind of embraced and even fostered failure among it’s creatives. A perfect example. No one with the talent level of Tim Vigil’s should ever be living in poverty. Which he pretty much is. If Tim started in tattoos he would probably be pretty set by now. Instead he chose to work in comics. 

ZL – You seem to be really knocking out your comics and developing an amazing backlist. I remember sharing a video where, I think that you were drawing a page from The Lottery, where you were filling in your spot blacks with this chunky dip pen nib and that just seemed like it would take a long time to get work done! So, I’m wondering whether you’ve changed up a gear and started doing lots of work, or am I just in circles where I’m seeing you pop up and you’ve been constantly busy for a long time?

AY – I mainly use a brush for large areas. Sometimes a fat nib. I have had the same process for the last 10 years. I have always had a pretty good work ethic with my art but my tools are just that. Lots of trial and error for the first 5-10 years. I had no one to help or any training. I am a lot faster at inking with some modern stuff but it is still the same process it has always been. I try to only work full time M-F 9-5. I love creating so much I get addicted to it. I will draw 18 hours straight if I am not careful. 

ZL – What inspired you to get making, not necessarily the style you make, but the actual circumstances behind you getting yourself together to put out comics instead of just sketching or posting online? What is the difference for you between posting online and publishing?

AY – Posting online is just a form of promo to me. Online is so ephemeral. I feel printed comics and animation is the best way to tell new stories and get them out. Period. It is hard to say what inspired me to start creating. I can tell you how I create though. 

I have always hated the idea of needing drugs, a muse or constant inspiration as motivation. It is not a sustainable model. It is a crutch for lazy artists to lean on. We all can learn skills and borrow from influences to make pretty art but real creativity comes from our imaginations. 

Clive Barker said it in interview after interview for years! He spoke of how fostering the imagination is being lost and even stifled in today’s world. He stressed the utmost importance for working artists and children to have an active and focused imagination. He is the greatest living horror artist of our age. The Poe of our time and everyone completely ignored him!!

Well I didn’t! I would meditate and do mental exercises daily for years to try and imagine whole working worlds. Clive was 100% right. I don’t get artists’ block or any of that shit. 

This is gonna sound super new age but it is the best way to explain it. With short meditation techniques I can light the fire of creativity instantly now. It can keep me awake some nights if I let it. My mind’s eye fills with the most moving and colorful images you could ever imagine. I have learned to embrace it and snatch stuff from the ether. It’s like a true form of art magick. When I break into the astral plane of endless creativity it recharges my inner being and overwhelms my soul with love, and joy. I am flooded with new ideas constantly. The Buddhists actually have a name for this place but the name escapes me. 

ZL – I remember reading that Moebius, Jean Giraud, the French comic artist took a similar approach, that he drew all his Moebius strips in a semi-conscious state of meditation, so it seems reasonable for you to do the same! 

AY – Exactly! I have read that and felt a kinship with him. I think Jim Woodring works in a similar fashion as well. 

ZL – Yeah, I’ve read that about Jim Woodring as well.

Looping back a second to The Lottery, I really admire the style of character design, the shapes you put down on the page, that I’ve seen in that. I’m guessing, from what you’ve just said, that much of these things arrive semi or fully formed? How much planning do you put into character design and story content and then could you give a general idea to how you approach a story and what you’re trying to achieve with your stories?

AY: Like I said prior, the initial ideas will come like a flood or in pieces. I will mentally “hang on” to my favorite ideas and build a story around them. Once I get most of it all sorted out in my brain I will do some general super loose thumbnails of a story or idea or the whole book. Sometimes I will start with a one shot style story and expand on it. The one shots will inspire more stories or ideas for other worlds as well. 

ZL – I know we touched on this earlier, but I’d like to dig deeper into whether you’re making money and what sort of sales you’re achieving, because, you know, I’m just damn nosey! More seriously though, I think part of making and why people cease making is an unrealistic idea of what can be achieved within an arena. The amount of people coming into comics and underground comix all thinking they’ll end up on Adult Swim or bankrolling a comfortable life always saddens me. You know they will get worn out banging their drum to sell 10 copies and lose hundreds because they completely over print. 

Which is a very tortured way of asking whether you make money from your comics or, at least break even? Are you happy to tell us numbers of sales and if not exact amounts of income, what sort of percentage of your income comes from your comic sales and for context, the kind of lifestyle you currently live?

AY: I grew up pretty poor. I was out on my own at around 17 with zero money. So it has not been an easy road for me in art and comics. I am not complaining, I have made good money off my comix.

I print modestly with print on demand services. I can print a few copies up to a few 100 at a time. It just depends on demand. You don’t need to have a warehouse of stuff. I focus on the stuff that does well.

It took a long time but I am in a great spot on my own. Because of the virus a lot of the mainstream crowd are kind of sitting around with their dicks in their hands. While I am hammering out stories. I am 100% owner of all my titles. I am not an LLC so a corporation can’t get my “creative content” without my direct consent. 

Luckily I don’t really need them. I have done the math, I make way more per page and book then I ever would with a publisher. I can create, print, promo, mail and repeat. I have no need for censors, editors, publishers, stores, mob run distro or other middle men. They are all just standing between me and making the profit from my books. 

No one will admit it, but the Cerebus model is still the best model for creators to sell their comics. If you are serious about ownership. More people should have the same faith in their work as Dave Sim does. Only without being a total jerk. 

ZL – I’m guessing your politics don’t mesh with his, but I think Dave Sim is definitely someone who has lessons for self-publishers and creators alike. If you were going to pass on any of his advice, how would you summarise what you’ve taken from his example?

AY – His politics aside he was pretty cantankerous in most of his interviews but he was not afraid to speak his mind. Everyone is so afraid to speak up in fear of never getting or keeping that “sweet corporate comics gig”. 

Dave was right about a lot of stuff. If you can’t stand up for your own work then who will? Before I started reading all his interviews I thought he was just a jerk but now I kind of get his anger. I could only imagine what the mainstream tried to pull back then when they saw he wouldn’t play ball. What’s worse is nothing has changed really. All the shit he was raving about in comics is the same or even worse. 

I think he was really hated by the industry when he started speaking out about all the shadiness going on. It always felt the comics press started attacking his political stances after he started to state his opinions about the practices of some of these publishers. I don’t agree with him on a lot of stuff politically but he never backed down and stayed true to his ideals. I admire him for that. 

Comics has a long sordid history of trying to silence voices they don’t want to hear. It has happened to me and many others still to this day.

ZL – How long has it taken to build up your back catalogue and what sort of tail end do you currently see on your titles, are we talking release and then forget it, sustained sales over months/years or occasional bumps when you get new titles out?

AY – It took 20 years to build the whole catalogue of large format stuff. I have printed 100s of different minis along the way. I now just mainly sell my larger format floppy and magazine stuff that does well continuously. I do have a goal to be able to fill a whole small magazine size comic book box with all my different floppy comics and mags. 

ZL – And how far away from that goal are you? 

AY – I have never actually checked. I would say I am well over halfway there. 

ZL – How do your sales and income compare to where you thought you’d be when you first started making your comics or did you not really care about that, other than not losing money?

AY: It is a weird thing that exists in indie comics. It is like they are ashamed of making money. 

You hear so much altruism in indie comics. “It is not always about the money man.” Tell that dumb shit to a career tattooist. They will laugh in your stupid face while they make $200 bucks an hour and drive off in their fully customized Dodge Challenger. While you stand there with a handful of comics and empty pockets. 

We should look at indy comics like tattooing or a little like a one man touring metal band or rap act. People wanna buy my books for my nutty unique style. So, yeah I am doing better than I ever could have dreamed of in such a dismal backwards looking field. I would rather be like a Tech 9 or Frank Zappa in comics. 

ZL – Last question, for you as a fan now, if you could get everyone in the world to read one of your books or series and a book or series by someone else, what would it be?

AY: Out of all my books I would say the World of Knonx series is my crowning achievement. I dumped every skill I have developed into one massive tale.

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté. It is one of the most amazing comics made in the last few years. It is one of the most beautiful comics ever made. It flows like water. It is the zen of comix. I cried the first time I read It. 

Park Bench – by Christophe Chabouté

I only make silent or wordless comics. So that is mainly what I am into. It is more common in European comics. So I try to mainly follow works coming from there. 

Comics should move us and excite us. Gross you out or move you to a new place emotionally. Not just be inane 80s TV sitcom serials. I am only interested in comics that exist and aspire to be comics. I have no interest in storyboards with dialogue. 

ZL – Thanx for your time Adam!

AY- Thanks for this in-depth interview. It is not often I get to talk deeply about things in comix that I care about. I never really get to explain how I create or how I truly feel about the medium.

I am grateful for the opportunity to speak my mind. To everyone who has ever supported me and my art. I truly frikkin’ love you all!! 

all art copyright and trademark its respective owners.

content copyright iestyn pettigrew 2020

  Adam Yeater, underground comix creator, talks in depth about his practice, his work and how comics remains closed to many outside of mainstream companies #comics #horror #underground #selfpublishing #fantasy #inspiration We spoke to Adam a little while ago about his influences and inspirations and found his answers intriguing, so we decided to dive in and dig a bit deeper.