#I have never actually written a Doctor Who AU despite thinking of em for most of my fandoms

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Can't be bothered to write it but Doctor!Edwin x Rose!Charles with a little Jack Harkness!Cat King would be a fun time

[deanstop13billyjoeltraxx]

Superposition

a deancas college roommate-AU 

Chapter 7 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here. 

The Gift of Memory’s an Awful Curse

Dean woke up to the sound of his phone ringing. He didn’t even bother to check the caller ID before answering with a groggy “Hello?”

“Dean.” It was Bobby’s voice on the other line. “How you feelin’?”

“Fan-friggin’-tastic.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Bobby chastised. “The guy who drove you to the hospital came by the shop yesterday, told me what the doctor said.” Dean groaned. “You’re not comin’ back in until Thursday, you hear?” 

“Come on, Bobby,” Dean protested, rubbing his eyes with a free hand. “Honestly, I’m already feelin’ loads better.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Bobby deadpanned. “No, you stay at home and get some rest. I can hold the fort for a week.” 

“Whatever you say, old man. Hey, have you looked at Ca- at the guy’s car?” 

“Barely. But, seein’ as it’s an old Honda, my best guess is valves are bent.” Bobby was quiet for a moment, then, “Dean, the guy told me his name was Cas Novak.” 

Dean closed his eyes, silently begging the powers that be to grant him strength. “Weird name.” 

Bobby snorted. “So you’re tellin’ me that’s not the same Cas Novak you met at WSU? The same one you brought home for Christmas? Well, that’s mighty strange, considerin’ he looks exactly like —”

“All right, all right,” Dean said. “Yes, it’s him. Why are we talking about this, anyway?” 

“Just wonderin’.”

“Is Ellen still comin’ down for Christmas?” Dean asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Castiel. 

“She called this mornin’, said she and Jo’d be here on the 23rd.” 

Ellen and Jo were family, mutual friends of John and Bobby. Since Dean could remember, John had been sending him and Sam back home to Lawrence to spend Christmas with Bobby. He didn’t realize until he was older that it was less “go have fun with your Uncle Bobby,” and more “I can’t stand the holidays and would like to be unconscious for most of them.” A few years before his dad died, when Dean was maybe fifteen, the Harvelle’s started joining them. It became a tradition, the Harvelle-Singer-Winchester Christmas affair. 

“I can’t wait to see ‘em,” Dean said, smiling up at the ceiling. 

“Yeah, well. When’s Sam gettin’ in?”

“Tonight,” Dean replied. He looked at his watch. Was it really already noon? “‘Round eight, I think.”

“Damn, am I excited to see that boy,” Bobby said. “Well, you two head down here when he’s done gettin’ settled. He’s finally old enough to have a few beers.” 

Dean rubbed his mouth for a moment. “Bobby,” he said, “he’s not even gonna be here. Well, he is, but he’s hangin’ out with some girl in friggin’ Kansas City after Christmas.” 

“Good for him. ‘Bout damn time, too, he hasn’t even mentioned a girl since that Ruby broke his heart when he was sixteen.” 

Dean thought he was going to explode. Was he the only one who saw how cosmically wrong this whole thing was? 

“Right,” he grumbled. “Well, I gotta go to the store, get some actual food in the house.” Dean pretty much lived off of ham sandwiches and the occasional fast food burger. “I’ll see you later.” 

Dean stood up, testing the waters of movement. He didn’t immediately feel like vomiting, and the room didn’t start spinning, both good signs. Turning on the light in the kitchen, he noticed he still had a mild light-sensitivity, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Satisfied, he grabbed his keys and the sunglasses Cas had given him, and headed out the door. 

As he drove to the Wal-Mart at the edge of town, he wondered idly if he would see Cas again. Dean supposed, at the very least, he might see Cas when he and Bobby had his car fixed. Unless Bobby fixed it before Dean got back to work. He snorted at the thought. That was unlikely. 

Thinking about Cas led Dean to thinking about his final days in Wichita, as it always did. He didn’t remember most of that May, or the rest of the year, for that matter. He’d spent the nights drunk and the days endlessly hungover. Dean couldn’t remember going to a single class after his father died in January.

What Dean could remember, what he always remembered, was Cas. Cas waiting for him to return from whatever dorm party he had found, Cas forcing him to drink water, Cas taking his vomit-stained clothes to the laundromat. Cas bandaging his hand after he punched the brick wall of their dorm room one too many times. Cas holding him as he cried.

A honk startled Dean from his thoughts, and he realized he was sitting at a light that had obviously been green for far too long. He sped forward. Maybe he wasn’t okay to drive. 

Dean groaned as he pulled into the parking lot. It was packed. He wasn’t sure what he expected — Christmas was little more than a week away. Shit. He had been so busy in the shop that he had forgotten to buy a single gift. Bobby was easy — a fifth of Maker’s Mark and new trucker cap would be enough to bring tears to his eyes. Sam was more difficult; he lived in a different world. Dean thought he remembered that Sam liked Lord of the Rings in high school… 

The year before, Dean had written him a check for ten thousand dollars, with “college” written in the memo. Sam had tried to give it back after realizing that was essentially Dean’s entire savings account, built up from working at Singer Auto Repair during the day and bartending the college joints at night. Two years straight. When Dean refused to take it back, saying, “You go and you get a damn degree, all right?”, Sam hugged him until he couldn’t breathe. Dean smiled at the memory. No way he was outdoing himself this year. 

Dean picked up the basics from Wal-Mart — eggs, milk, some salad kits for Sam, a couple bags of coffee, some orange juice. He felt like a douchebag, wearing the sunglasses inside, but the fluorescents were unbearable. He grabbed two six-packs of beer to bring to Bobby’s, then surreptitiously added a pack of hard seltzers for his apartment, because, hey, he liked to switch it up. 

Dean paid for his groceries and headed to the liquor store to pick up the whiskey for Bobby. Upon seeing a case of boozy eggnog, he couldn’t help remembering his first and only Thanksgiving in Wichita. They downed two pints of the stuff while watching It’s a Wonderful Life. Dean teased that maybe Cas, with his angelic namesake, was his Clarence. Then he fashioned a halo out of toilet paper and they laughed until their ribs hurt.  

Dean grabbed a pint at the last second. For good measure. 

Sam arrived at Dean’s apartment just after eight, and, Kansas City be damned, Dean was beyond happy to see him. Sam coughed out a laugh as Dean whacked him on the back in the midst of a hug. 

“‘S good to see you, Sammy,” Dean said, radiating warmth. “Let’s go, Bobby’s itchin’ to give you a beer.” 

Dean let Sam drive the Impala to Bobby’s, peppering him with questions about UT the whole time. Sam gushed about his pre-law classes, which Dean tolerated only because he had just gotten home. 

“How’s your head?” Sam asked when he had finished nerding out.

“Fine,” Dean replied. “Fluorescents still make it hurt like a bitch, but honestly, I’m fine.” 

Sam turned into the shop parking lot, the windows of Bobby’s apartment above providing the only light against the dark. “Hey, you never really answered my question yesterday.”

“What question?”

“That guy, who drove you to the hospital,” Sam said, carefully. “Was it Cas?”

Dean shut his eyes, willing himself against getting out and slamming the door behind him. He was not looking forward to this conversation. “Yeah. It was Cas.” 

“He’s back?” 

“No. I don’t know, man, he’s on his way to Kansas City for some big boy job.”

“Did you guys… You know…” 

Dean gave him an incredulous look. “What, did we kiss and make up like some Hallmark movie?”

“Dean —”

“Sam, just leave it,” he growled. “Come on. Bobby’s waitin’.” The kid had been home for thirty minutes, and he was already giving Dean a headache. 

Bobby greeted them with the biggest smile Dean had ever seen him wear. He pulled Sam into a tearful hug and clapped Dean on the shoulder. The three made their way to the kitchen.

Dean was driving, and still concussed, so he contented himself with a diet Coke and a few slices of the pizza Bobby had ordered while Bobby got beers for Sam and himself. Sam asked how the shop was going, earning about ten minutes of Bobby begrudgingly praising Dean for all his hard work. Dean fidgeted in his seat, face flamed from the compliments, doing his best to insist that it was a team effort, really. Sam beamed at him. 

Dean changed the subject, prompting Sam to tell them both about college, despite having already heard the spiel on the drive over. Dean let his mind wander while Sam talked.

Bobby had been the one to call when Dean’s father had died. Dean remembered, it was the Monday after his nineteenth birthday, a snowy January morning. Classes had been cancelled, so he and Cas were watching Dead Poets Society in their room to celebrate. 

“Wait, pause it, I gotta take this. Hey, Bobby! How’s it goin’?”

“Dean, I hate to be the one to tell you this. John…” 

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

“He’s dead, son. I’m sorry.”

Dean had dropped his cell phone on the floor. It shattered. 

Dean remembered emptying his school backpack and filling it with clothes, his toothbrush, some shampoo. He walked straight to the Impala, his hands shaking, tears clouding his vision. 

“Dean. Dean! What happened?”

“I gotta go, Cas. I’ll explain everything later.”

“Dean, the roads — we have class!”

“Screw the roads and screw class. Family emergency.”

He’d made it to Lawrence in record time.

He hadn’t even told Bobby he was coming, but he was waiting for Dean anyway. He found out that John had had one too many at the bar that night, but insisted on driving home, anyway. He ran into a tree going sixty, died on impact. Sam had been spending the night with a friend. Bobby drove him down to Amarillo, where John had been working one of his odd-jobs that was sure to dead-end when he started leaving beer bottles on site. Dean didn’t speak the whole way there, not until they picked Sammy up. Sam was crying. Dean wished he could cry, too. He felt like he was going to fracture into a million pieces. But he’d felt that before. Not this bad, never this bad, but broken all the same. He did what he always did. He hugged Sammy tight and told him it was going to be okay, everything is going to be okay. 

The next thirty-six hours were spotty. A small funeral, just the three of them. Dean telling Bobby he wasn’t going back to school, he had to take care of Sam. Bobby staring daggers. He’d take care of Sam, Dean would finish that degree if it was the last thing he did. An argument, the only time Bobby had ever yelled at him. Dean and Sam sitting on the couch, sharing headphones and listening to Black Sabbath. Bobby pushing him out the door. Driving back to Wichita, numb.

The painful memory was interrupted when Bobby said his name. 

“...We’d love to meet her, right Dean?” 

Dean shook his head and blinked. “What?”

“Sam’s girl,” Bobby supplied. Sam blushed, looking at Dean. 

“What about her?” Dean grumbled. 

“I was gonna bring her around,” Sam said. 

Dean wanted to be righteously angry with Sam for not telling him sooner, and for dipping out on him at the first sight of something better. But the kid just looked so damn hopeful.

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea. I’d love to meet her.” 

They stayed at Bobby’s until midnight, reminiscing about past Christmases, the years Sam and Dean spent under Bobby’s roof. Eventually, Bobby whined about being too old to stay up so late, and that was their cue. Sam was properly tipsy, and Dean was exhausted. They bade each other good night, and Dean and Sam headed home. 

Dean didn’t bother putting on music for the fifteen-minute drive. The Impala was silent as Dean drove, watching the yellow streetlights pass.

“Dean,” Sam said, “What’s up with you today?” 

He was talking with the level of verve only achievable through alcohol. Dean gripped the steering wheel a little harder. Drunk people always asked too many questions. 

“Nothing.”

“No, no, no, man.” Sam waved his hand for emphasis. “You’re messed up. You’ve been messed up. You know what —” he shifted upright in his seat “—you gotta talk to Cas.” 

“I’m not gonna do that,” Dean said shortly. 

“Why not?” Sam demanded. 

“I’m just not, okay? Jesus. You need to go to sleep.” 

“Not true,” Sam argued. “Listen, I know that he left or whatever, but I’m sure he had a good reason, you know, and you loved him, Dean —”

Dean slammed on the brakes. The Impala screeched to a halt as the light in front of them turned red. 

“What?” He asked in a low voice. “What did you say?”

Sam scoffed at him. “I mean, you weren’t trying to hide it or anything.” 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “Stop talking. I mean it.” 

“I’m just saying, the way you talked about him, the way you two were at Christmas, I’m pretty sure nothing he could have done —”

Dean punched the steering wheel. The Impala’s horn sounded. Sam looked at him in shock. The light was green. Dean took a deep breath and hit the gas, both hands gripping the wheel for dear life, now. 

“We’re done talking about this,” Dean said. 

He felt like he was having deja vu. After Cas left school, just after spring break, Bobby had called Dean to see how he was getting on. He’d put Sam on the phone. Sam was only fourteen, but already smart as hell, sometimes able to see through Dean’s bullshit. 

“How’s Cas?” 

“He’s a shithead, that’s how he is.”

“Dean, what? I thought —”

“Yeah, well, stop thinking. Fucker is gone. Guess he found someplace better to be.” 

“What happened?”

“Fuck if I know. But this is the last time I’m talking about that son of a bitch.” 

Dean pulled up to his apartment, anger and regret swirling in his head. He shouldn’t have yelled at Sam. He knew that. But Sam — well, sober Sam — knew better than to bring up Cas in any capacity. 

Sam exited the Impala silently. Dean’s outburst must have been enough to shatter the alcoholic haze. Dean locked the doors and led Sam up to his door. 

“What’s that?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked up from fumbling with his keys. There was a brown paper bag taped to his door, his name written on the front in clean, capital letters. 

“No clue,” Dean replied, ripping the bag off the door. He unlocked the door and headed straight for the bedroom. 

“Dean, come on,” Sam started, but Dean interrupted him. 

“We can talk about it in the morning. Get some rest,” he grumbled. 

Dean closed the bedroom door and set the bag down on his bed. He took off his jacket. Shed his t-shirt. Unlaced his boots. Splashed some water on his face. Brushed his teeth. Traded his jeans for sweatpants. 

Finally, when he could avoid it no longer, he opened the bag. 

Inside was… the Tombstone DVD. Dean picked it up, brow furrowed. He opened it, and the disk was there, along with a Starbucks napkin, tucked into the left side. This, too, had his name in that same, clean script. He unfolded the napkin, and read:

DEAN—

I WAS IN THE AREA THIS EVENING, SO I STOPPED BY TO SEE HOW YOU WERE FEELING, BUT YOU WERE OUT. YOU GAVE THIS TO ME IN COLLEGE. IT’S ABOUT TIME I RETURNED IT TO YOU.

IF YOU NEED ANYTHING, FEEL FREE TO CALL.

—CAS

Cas had written his phone number below the note. Dean frowned as he looked at the DVD once more. That dumbass. Dean had given it to him, it had been a gift. If this was some sort of peace offering, it was crap. He grabbed his phone and punched in the number. 

DW (12:52 am)

movie was a gift, u keep those

DW (12:53 am)

but i guess u don’t want shit from me anymore

He knew he was being a dick, but, well, Cas had been a dick first. And it was late, anyway. Cas was probably already asleep. He didn’t expect a response tonight. Actually, he didn’t expect any response, at any time. He threw his phone on the pillow and got up to turn out the lights. 

Dean flopped into bed, but was surprised to feel his phone buzz.

CN (12:55 am)

Apologies. I did not intend to upset you.

Dean squinted in consternation. Why was Cas even awake — wasn’t he some capital-A-adult, now? He was an accountant, with a job at an honest-to-god accounting firm. Shouldn’t he eat his BLT for dinner and be in bed by eight p.m.? Dean snorted at his own mental image. 

He didn’t bother to respond, finding nothing more to say. He laid back down in bed, but his thoughts were too loud for sleep. He stared at the ceiling fan. It offered no advice. 

Dean sighed. He was pissed. At Sam, at Cas, at himself. Still at his dad, always at his dad. So he did what he always did when he had nowhere to direct the anger. 

“You motherfucker,” he whispered to the fan. “You waltz in here, with your college degree and your cushy office job. You drive me to the hospital and pretend you care. Well, guess what, you’re not allowed to care. You left, okay? We were friends, we were… We were family. I needed you, but you didn’t care then. So you can’t care now. You don’t get to come back here and remind me of everything I almost had. Fuck you. In every possible language, fuck you, man.” 

The pressure behind his eyes lessened. The anger was still there, still burning beneath the surface, but this was enough for now. A temporary catharsis. A way to keep his sanity. He didn’t believe in God — couldn’t, really, after everything  — but this was the closest thing he had to a prayer. He’d started after John died, after he’d realized that burying the guilt and the sadness in alcohol was killing him. When Sam got the scholarship to UT, he’d done it again, voicing the jealousy and fear that he’d never allow himself in the daylight. He didn’t know if it was healthy, but he also didn’t care. It kept him going. He could walk into work every day with a smirk on his face, call Sammy and crack jokes, flirt with female customers after he changed their oil. Screaming into the void kept the “passed-out drunk” nights to a minimum. It kept him from becoming his father.

His only lifeline. He was not, would never be, John Winchester.

-----

tagging @nguyenxtrang :)))

[johannesviii]

Top 12 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2014

The “least good” of the three best years of the 2010s. This is still a top 12. Because I can, and I will.

I know. People also call it a bad year. And I think they’re wrong.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

New job, which is the one I still have currently. Also, I discovered Doctor Who in December 2013 and you know exactly what happened in 2014 because I dived head first into the extended universe as soon as I finished New Who and I’ve never really recovered since then. The end of the year was highly stressful, with my cat being sick, my father needing a very dangerous surgical intervention, and me being so stressed out I was basically unable to sleep for days. Might explain why there’s a lot of cute songs on this list, I needed cute stuff.

That year wasn’t very generous in good albums from bands I liked. Epica released The Quantum Enigma, and it was okay, Within Temptation had Hydra, and it was also okay, and Coldplay had the very underrated (in my opinion at least) Ghost Stories, a mostly melancholic album full of bittersweet post-breakup songs. So I’m left with no choice but to declare The Birthday Massacre’s album Superstition my album of the year for 2014. They had stayed at a consistent level since Pins And Needles so I wasn’t expecting anything better from them, but boy do they delivered. Here is Divide, it’s about a subterranean world and it might be a metaphor but as you know I’m very literal-minded! Here’s Beyond, about a lady falling in love with a strange woman who might be some sort of fae or supernatural entity!! I love most of the album and there’s only one subpar song on it. I know they’ll never get a crossover hit but they’d deserve it so much. Look at the state of the world. We’re so ready for a new mainstream wave of energetic, angsty, weird music. Just bring it on.

There’s only one non-elligible song that truely pisses me off this time, and it’s Traffic Girl by Indochine, another single from their Black City Parade album. It’s about a policewoman in North Korea who has to wave and smile at non existant traffic all day long and the song presents her as a modern hero. It’s one of my favorite songs on the album and I’m so mad it didn’t make the French year-end list.

Here’s a list of honorable menti-holy shit why is this list so long

Albatraoz (AronChupa) - Riiiiiight at the limit between catchy and annoying. But it’s blissfully short.

Chandelier (Sia) - I would like this more if it wasn’t that painful to listen to, I swear.

Magic in the Air (Magic System) - Insert my usual comment about these guys and their fun & happy songs.

Un Jour Au Mauvais Endroit (Calogero) - Great music, good lyrics. It’s still Calogero and I tend to dislike how overdramatic he usually is. Not enough to ruin that one song for me though.

Je Garde le Sourire (Black M) - This isn’t the last time he’s gonna appear in this post.

Prayer In C (Lilly Wood & The Prick) - A bit repetitive but in a good way.

Budapest (Georges Ezra) - A bit repetitive but in a good way 2, the return but in a completely different genre.

The Monster (Eminem & Rihanna) - We’ve now entered the songs which I considered putting on the list, and yeah, there’s a lot of them even if this is a top 12. “Bad year for pop music”. Yeah. Right.

Addicted To You (Avicii) - This is good, and the music video is great, and I want to stop feeling emotional about Avicii. Please.

Don’t Tell Em (Jeremih) - I. Uh. What the f█ck. Okay. There’s no way I can justify this. I simply adore this beat even if the lyrics are really, really bad. It’s just visually stunning and I really wish the song itself was better.

Photomaton (Jabberwocky) - I don’t think this would have charted without the success of Kavinsky the previous year. But still. Wonderful stuff. Well deserved.

Madame Pavoshko (Black M) - This was on the first version of the list but in the end I really had no room left for it. It’s a song about a guy telling his old teacher he made it in life despite the fact she labelled him a hopeless case at school. With such a premise, it could be an angry song, but no, it’s upbeat, sarcastic and fun. Wonderful stuff.

Le Graal (Kyo) - Kyo? Wait, you mean the embarrassing emo guys from my 2002 and 2003 lists? These guys?? They were back on the charts after ten years?? And suddenly everyone thought it was cool to like them again?? Including me??? Sounds fake but okay

Turn Down For What (DJ Snake) - The last cut. Stim music at its finest, sharp, aggressive and colorful. Everything I ever wanted from a hit song.

Well, that was long. Here’s the actual list.

12 - Wake Me Up (Avicii)

US: #22 / FR: Not on the list

“So wake me up when it’s all over, when I’m wiser and I’m older” should make no sense. You can’t get wiser if you’re asleep. At least that’s what I would probably say if I didn’t feel this. There’s a lot of times in my life I wished I could be switched off and woken up a couple of years later and be like “hello I’m back, I feel better now, what did I miss”. I totally get it.

The only reason this song is so low on the list is the drop. I don’t like it very much. The rest is damn good.

11 - Boom Clap (Charlie XCX)

US: #34 / FR: #84

Boom! Boom! Boom! CLAP. That song got me after its first seconds. Love its atmosphere, very cotton candy-like, very fluffy, with a sharp voice. Doesn’t work well if you listen to it on a loop, though, and that’s the only negative thing I can say against it.

10 - Stay The Night (Zedd)

US: #94 / FR: Not on the list

This on the other hand works very well on repeat and that drop is golden. I’m afraid I don’t have anything very interesting to say about it. It stayed on my playlist from 2014 to summer 2019, though, so that’s an impressive feat.

9 - Rather Be (Clean Bandit)

US: #41 / FR: #18

Several critics I follow have commented this song is 1) mostly meaningless 2) too perfect to say anything about it and I agree. It’s also too perfect to be really passionate about it, unfortunately, but still, very, very good stuff.

8 - Magic (Coldplay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

You already know I don’t really like lowkey emotional songs and I also hate the first act of Coldplay’s career, so why on earth did I like Ghost Stories so much and why is Magic making me feel so emotional, you ask? Well it’s because the music itself isn’t bland. It’s lowkey but rich, dense and colourful, and it works much better than whatever they were doing before with their slow boring songs. Also, I really struggle with dramatic vocal performances on quiet emotional songs (which is why I tend to have issues with Adele’s voice on some of her stuff), and here the balance is just ideal. Soft colors, soft textures, soft voice, this is like a colorful plushie you’ve lost for years and just found in the attic and it brings you to tears. I adore it.

Also the part of the lyrics that goes “And if you were to ask me / After all that we've been through / Still believe in magic? / Oh yes I do”, that makes me want to hug someone and never let go.

7 - Waves (Mr Probz)

US: Not on the list / FR: #15

This is completely hypnotic. It’s perfect to drive, to walk, to draw. to sit on a bench and look at the trees. It’s just wave after wave of pastel colors with a good beat and it washes away your anxiety slowly but surely. Therapeutic and beautiful without ever feeling bland. Wonderful stuff.

6 - Uptown Funk (Bruno Mars & Mark Ronson)

US: Not on the list (#1 on the 2015 year-end list) / FR: #3

Everyone loved it and I wasn’t an exception. You all know it and I’ve got nothing new or interesting to say about it. A ton of fun. Love the lyrics.

5 - Sur Ma Route (Black M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #7

If you’re wondering what’s going on in this picture, the guy is parodying a lot of famous movies or series in the music video. It’s a simple but super energetic song about trying to trace your own road in life and all the problems you encounter and how you can’t always count on people you thought were your friends. It’s very propulsive and motivating and it’s my favorite song from that guy even though he made a lot of good songs. Just great stuff. Check it out if you’ve never heard it.

Speaking of being on your own...

4 - Ain’t It Fun (Paramore)

US: #47 / FR: Not on the list

I miss hearing that kind of thing on the radio and yes, I’m aware that makes me sound like an old idiot. Oh how I wish this had been released in 2010 when I just started to work, that would have been perfect. I know the song is supposed to be sarcastic with the whole “ain’t it fun being on your own” angle, but yeah, when your life wasn’t great before, it’s actually liberating to “live in the real world”, even if it sucks at times, even if it’s difficult and you have responsibilities and all.

Also the music video is super cute. Love it.

3 - Pompeii (Bastille)

US: #12 / FR: Not on the list

I’m honestly surprised this is only #3 on this list considering how much I loved this one back when it came out, and don’t get me wrong, it’s still a song I love to this day, just... a bit less. Maybe it’s because of overplay? I’m not exactly sure considering #1 was also played very often and I never ever got tired of it. And it’s well written, and it’s not every day that you hear a song about two dead people talking about the wrath of the gods after their city was engulfed in ash.

So yeah. Not sure what happened there. I hope this band is eventually gonna have another hit like this one. Bastille, more of Pompeii and less of Happier, please.

2 - Dangerous (David Guetta)

US: Not on the list / FR: #8

A few months ago I heard Memories by Maroon 5 and I was instantly filled with a truely disproportionate amount of rage for such a bland pop song. See, I love it when music uses well-known classical tunes and completely changes their context and tone, but Memories doesn’t do any of that, it’s just the Pachelbel canon with some bad lyrics on top. So yeah, it’s a pet peeve.

Dangerous, on the other hand, is a song mixing a small loop of Toccata & Fugue in D minor and it basically uses it as an ominous pseudo-police siren in a song about illegally cruising a car with your possibly criminal, possibly gangster crush and not knowing if you’re scared, in love or feeling the thrill of adventure, or all of that at once. I. Love this damn song.

When the only bad thing I have to say about a song talking about driving at night way too fast is “eh this isn’t as good as Kavinsky”, you know you’ve found gold.

1 - A Sky Full of Stars (Coldplay & Avicii)

US: #51 / FR: #9

As much as I love Dangerous, there wasn’t any doubt about what would top this list. I’ve spent about ten lists explaining how my appreciation of Coldplay kept growing over time and four lists explaining how much I loved Avicii, and this song is the best of both worlds. The first time I heard it, I was driving and, no joke, I was so overwhelmed I had to park my car to properly concentrate on the song.

One day I will have to paint this song to explain how fantastic it looks and I’d have to use purple, china blue and pink watercolor inks and basically paint a psychedelic night sky full of little lights and yeah, this is basically another of these songs that are deeply satisfying on a synesthetic level, and it joins this very select club with the blue song called “Blue”, the song full of bright flashes called “Lights” and the song that looks like gentle pulsing lights called “Fireflies”. I’m trying (and failing) to learn how to play it on the piano. I know the chords, and I suck, but I’m very determined.

On top of that deeply satisfying visual, there’s the soft vocals so specific of the Ghost Stories album, and the very simple, very cute lyrics, and I simply hear “'Cause you're a sky, 'cause you're a sky full of stars, I'm gonna give you my heart” and I die instantly. This is high quality musical fluff. Come to think of it, this list is full of it, and this is the Ultimate Fluffy Song. One fluff to rule them all.

Sidenote, considering I fell into the DW audios right when this song came out, that’s one of my theme songs for Eight and Charley. Because of course it is.

Next up: The beginning of a progressive drop in quality but you wouldn’t be able to tell considering how long this list of honorable mentions is

[swanderful1]

A Cold Awakening: Ch 23/25

Notes: Hi all, here with anotha one. Once again, banner made by the lovely and kind @shady-swan-jones Thank you for the support and kind words, it motivates me more than I can say. I never thought I would have the courage to publish anything I had written so to hear feedback is incredible and I’m forever grateful. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and the last 2 after that! 

The whole thing can be read on AO3 or ffnet! 

Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers. As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT

Rating: M

Word Count: ~9200

Emma knew what was coming. When her father called her Thursday morning to ask if it was okay for him to stop by, she knew it had to be serious. Normally if he wanted to drop by he would just show up. Which was why she was now, sitting across from David at her kitchen table, moments after Killian had left and she was nervous. Most of the windows were open, and it was late afternoon but the sun wasn’t too hot. A nice breeze rustled the curtains and Emma tucked her legs up underneath her in the chair.

Her hands rested around the warm coffee mug, steam rolling off the top. Emma had set out a plate of strawberry poptarts because wasn’t that what adults did?

“Em, I waited a few days to bring this up because you were in the hospital and had been through quite the ordeal…” David twiddled his thumbs. “I’m going to have to suspend you from the police department for 3 months.”

It stung. Three months was a long suspension. She supposed she deserved it. Despite having caught Gold she did it in a way that broke nearly every rule in the book.

“You knowingly entered a highly dangerous situation, unarmed, and with no backup.”

Emma nodded.

“You neglected to inform the team of your suspicions, you put Neal in further danger by having absolutely no in-place plan.”

David seemed to be getting more and more disappointed in her with every word he spoke. And it hurt, it really did. Anger would have been easier to deal with.

“You could have been seriously hurt, or worse, killed by Gold. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know.” She didn’t look up at him. Couldn’t. Not when she knew the expression she would see. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just that night, Em. You took risks and played by your own agenda for months.”

“I know.” She also knew what was coming next.

“Your involvement with Killian was highly inappropriate and I should have never let that slide for as long as I have.”

When she stole a glance at her father, he had softened. No longer disappointed, more so just worried.

“Listen, I don’t want to have to suspend you anymore than you want it to happen. And I’ve bent a lot of rules to reduce your punishment as much as I could. I think the time off would be good though.”

“I hate time off, dad.”

“You should have thought of that before chasing down a madman by yourself.”

Fair enough.

“Take a vacation, Em. Spend time with Henry. Or, you know,...”

“Killian?”

“Yeah. That’s still going on huh?” David gave the barest hint of a smile. The first one she had seen since he walked in. Emma sensed the hard part of the conversation had ended.

“Dad…” Emma shook her head. “He was in the hospital with me, the whole time.”

“I know, I just assumed that it wasn’t….”

Emma realized what he was alluding to.

“It’s serious, with him.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He looked embarrassed, he had never really had to deal with any of the normal father stuff when it came to Emma’s relationships. She was notoriously private, non-committal. The only boyfriend of hers David had ever officially met was Neal. “Your mother told me.”

Emma rolled her eyes. Of course Mary Margaret had to be the one to clue him in.

“It will probably get out that the two of you are together…” David felt uncomfortable discussing this and Emma sensed that easily. Watching as he continued to search for something to do with his hands. “During trials there are plenty of things that are brought up.”

In some corner of the back of her mind Emma didn’t mind the world knowing about she and Killian. She was in love with him. He was in love with her. It was a connection in her life she was proud of. The world could know about the two of them.

“How are Milah and Belle?” she asked, sipping her coffee. It was still too hot and burned her tongue a bit.

“We’re still negotiating. Both of them have made it very clear though that their main goal is to ensure Gold is never released from prison.”

“Do they have lawyers?”

“Yes… Emma you’re suspended I can’t really discuss this with you…”

“Oh… right. Well what can you tell me?”

“I can tell you that they’re both okay and safe. They’re in good hands.”

“Good.” Emma couldn’t help but smile a little as she took another sip of coffee. As much as she didn’t overall agree with the idea to strategically leave clues to implicate your husband/ex-husband for murder, it was an impressive network they built. The amount of planning two strangers came together to do… it certainly was one of a kind.

“Alright mom, can you give me a ride over to dad’s?” Henry said as he came down the stairs into the kitchen. He had an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. After hearing Emma was going on a date with Killian, Henry had immediately offered to stay at his dad’s hotel for the night. Most likely to avoid any kind of romantic business, as teens were known to do.

“Yeah, let me get my keys,” Emma said as she started to stand from the table. But David stopped her.

“I’ll take him, Em,” David smiled, knowingly. Emma assumed her mother had also clued her father in on her big date tonight. “You just relax.”

Emma thought to argue. But then realized that the day had mostly gotten away from her and Killian would be here to pick her up in a little over an hour.

“Alright.” Emma pulled her son into her side. Kissing the top of his shaggy haired head. “Call me if you need anything, kid.”

“I will, love you.” He gave her a squeeze, David had already walked out of the house and to the car. So now it was just Emma and Henry. Her son spun in the doorway and faced her, “Have fun tonight, mom.”

Emma smiled, realizing how lucky she was to have Henry. A kid who was more concerned with making sure both of his parents were okay instead of his summer vacation. She was suspended for the next three months. Perhaps she could make it up to her son by taking him on a trip or something.

“Love you, kid. See you tomorrow.”

And with that he was gone. Leaving Emma alone with her thoughts. Reflecting on the people in her life that she did. To have the son that she had. The parents she did. Her best friend. An ex she was civilized with. And it wasn’t so much an empty feeling that made her want to be with Killian, she wasn’t empty. But for a long time she had doubted whether or not she would ever feel this way about someone. Until he came back into her life, and there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted everything with him. When she had been in the hospital and the doctor had asked her if there was any chance of pregnancy, for the first time ever the question wasn’t a scary thing. The thought of a concrete future with Killian Jones wasn’t scary. The thought of anything with Killian Jones wasn’t scary, aside from losing him. She wondered if she would ever find the courage to tell him that.

She shook the thought. After watching her father and her son drive away, she took a few deep breaths and headed upstairs to get ready.

Emma was nervous. There was no other word for it. She had never been nervous for dates. In fact, she had been on so many first dates at this point she should have a Doctorate in the process. The difference here was, she actually cared for Killian. She had never been on a first date with someone she was in love with. That’s typically not how the sequence of events goes. Killian had texted her earlier saying he would be there around 7 to pick her up. And now it was 5 minutes till.

She stood in front of the long mirror in her bathroom, as if somehow finding a flaw to fix would unwind her stomach. Emma had changed her outfit nearly twenty times. Killian had left much of this date a surprise and said that she could wear whatever she wanted. But when she asked what he was wearing, and he had said a suit, she realized it was the type of date you wear a dress to.

The fabric of her deep red dress clung to her body in a figure hugging shape. The skirt tight around her waist and thighs to the spot just above her knee where the dress ended, her curves on full display. It was a warm summer night so she had chosen a dress that was off-the shoulder, pressing her chest just a bit higher than usual in a tight, scooped neckline. She rarely ever wore dresses, but tonight was special. And she wanted to feel pretty. She looked in the mirror, watching her hands smooth over the silky material of her skirt, taking in her smokey-eyed makeup, her barrel curled hair, her red painted lips and towering kitten heels she realized she was more done up than Killian had ever seen her. She had taken special care to conceal the bruises that remained from Monday. They were mostly gone but she didn’t want the reminder.

“Your face will break out if you don’t wipe this off before you go to sleep,” she said to herself in the mirror. Trying to grasp onto anything she could to ease her nerves. But then she remembered, it wasn’t a normal first date. Killian would want to sleep with her afterward… right? Should she pack an overnight bag? Would they stay here or at his place? Maybe the date would go poorly, it was their first real public outing, it could go horribly and make them both realize they did better together when isolated. Oh boy.

Then the doorbell rang and Emma saw her lined eyes widen. He was coming to get her at the door. Of course he was. She had expected maybe a call to say he had arrived, or a honk like her first dates usually did. Not an actual front-door approach, like she was a teenager in the 1950’s.

With one more stolen glance in the mirror, she made her way downstairs. Grabbing the tiny black clutch purse she reserved for fancy things like weddings and funerals. When she opened the front door to find Killian on the porch, she felt herself take a quick step back. As if even though she was expecting him, she also wasn’t.

“You look stunning, Emma,” Killian’s smooth voice still surprising her whenever her name came out of his mouth. Still giving her butterflies. Emma eyed his appearance. He had trimmed his facial hair and smoothed back his hair. To pair with his sleek navy blue pants and dress coat that brought out the most striking color of his blue eyes. It was then that she knew she had made the correct decision to not put on any underwear.

“You look…” Emma felt herself still holding onto the doorknob for some support. The combination of wearing heels and her attraction to him throwing off her balance a bit.

“I know.” He interrupted. With a smirk on his handsome face he extended his hand and within its grasp Emma was surprised to find he held a singular red rose, one that matched the color of her dress almost exactly.

Emma pretended to be annoyed, but really couldn’t be. Taking the flower and bringing it to her nose to smell. Her eyes gazed up at him, realizing that all of her nerves had disappeared. Like little worry birds, they had just up and flown away. All she felt now was excited.

“Shall we?” he extended his arm for her to loop hers through and without so much as a single sarcastic comment, she followed him outside to where a town car with a driver was waiting. Doors open to the backseat. “I figured this would be easier than me driving us.”

“Where exactly are we going, Killian?”

“It’s a surprise, love,” he said as they climbed into the backseat of the car. Normally Emma wasn’t one for surprises. But there was something about the way he said the word, something about the light in his eyes when he referenced it that made it the most appealing prospect in the world.

In the car, Emma held tight to the rose Killian had given her. Partly so she could give her hands something to do, mostly because the gesture was so sweet. While she was aware that they were going on a very legitimate, romantic first date, she felt a desire to just straddle him right now. Forget all about sitting through dinner, and get lost in each other. The night before, when he had spent the night without making love to her she was conflicted. Obviously she was healing, still was, but she also was unwaveringly attracted to Killian Jones. Especially in a fucking blue suit.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked. Pressing a button on the ceiling console to close a partition between where the driver was seated in the front seat and where they were in the back.

Once the wall was up, he reached one of his hands from across the back seat to grab hold of hers. The embers that always burned for him growing hotter now that they were touching. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she wondered if perhaps he was too scared to after the incident with Gold.

“I’m better, the whole rest thing is kind of nice. The bruising is almost healed,” she said and she watched to see if he would flinch at the mention of it. He didn’t, but he did hold her hand a bit tighter. “My dad came over today… I’m suspended from work for three months.”

“What?”

“For going after Gold alone, breaking about all of the rules in the rulebook in the process.” She didn’t need to mention that almost the whole office knew she and Killian were together. It was embarrassing enough.

“I suppose that’s fair.” His jaw tightened. “It could have turned out a lot worse.”

“I know.” She looked over at Killian and realized that he still looked worried. “I feel badly about it. I could never regret catching him, but I should have handled it better.”

He nodded.

“Killian, I don’t want you to look at me differently. Or feel like you have to treat me like a baby bird forever…” she flipped his palm, and began to trace the lines in his skin with her fingernail. “But I do want to thank you.”

“For what?” His hand went to her face and tilted her head up to look in his eyes.

“For helping to take care of me.” She thought of all the other sweet things he had done during the course of his time back in Storybrooke. “For a lot more. If I tried to explain it would take up the whole evening.”

“Perhaps you can tell me over time,” he whispered. Brushing a piece of hair out of her face.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him this time. Wondering how he was taking all of the developments in his parents murder that had occurred over such a short period of time.

“It’s been a rough road, I won’t deny that. You’ve been around the whole time to see what’s happened. I finally had enough courage to go see their graves today,” he sadly admitted. Instantly Emma wanted to do more, to do anything she could to help him. “But I’ve been working through it, with your aid of course, love.”

“You went to the cemetery?”

“Aye, it was something I hid from doing for a long time.”

“What was so different about today?” she wondered aloud.

“It was the first morning I woke up and had all of the answers to the most painful parts of my life. Not everyone gets that luxury.”

Emma thought of all he knew now. That Milah had been the ex-wife of the man that had killed his parents. That the reason she had left Killian was not what he had originally thought. That she was one of the women behind the clues. That Gold was actually arrested, and wouldn’t get out again.

“Has anyone ever told you how strong you are?” she asked, stroking his cheek with her hand. The brush of his trimmed facial hair on her fingertips.

“That’s not usually a word people associate with me,” he looked forward. “Stubborn, certainly. Arrogant, yes. Devilishly handsome, of course.”

Emma smiled, he wasn’t wrong about the handsome part. He definitely was.

“Well you are,” she offered. “Strong, I mean.”

“So are you, Emma,” he said in the smooth, silky voice with admiration. It felt like they were in their own orbit together. Just the two of them.

She didn’t realize how close they had drifted in the backseat, until she felt his breath hot on her neck. Her leg crossed over, resting against his thigh. And she was now only focused on that. “Something the matter?”

He hadn’t kissed her yet.

She released a breathy, “No...”

“Are you certain?” he brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. And she could only imagine her cheeks were probably now nearing the color of her dress. “You look a little… flushed.”

He hadn’t kissed her in the way she craved. The hungry way in which he would sometimes devour her mouth. Making her whole body come alive. She noticed her leg was now completely crossed over onto his lap, where his hand was holding the top of her thigh. Crawling closer and closer to the riding hemline of her skirt.

His eyes traced down the length of her body and when they resumed his gaze into her eyes, they were darker.

“Emma…” he moaned quietly into her ear. She thought he would give in, call her a temptress and take her right there in the backseat. He continued, “If you come any closer I’ll be tempted to skip dinner and have you instead.”

“An interesting comment from someone who claims to be a gentleman,” she bit back. After all, he was the one whose hand was basically up her skirt and they hadn’t even made it to dinner yet.

“Forgive me, darling. I find it hard to tame my imagination,” he whispered, his voice so low and wrecked. She was pretty sure an audible moan escaped her lips. Which he still hadn’t kissed, by the way, despite being painfully close to hers right now. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

He teased. Okay, now he definitely knew why she was so tense. The confident smirk on his face giving away his intuitions about her.

“You’re a stubborn lass aren’t you?” He pushed her hair off of her shoulders and began trailing kisses from her jaw down her neck, to the scandalous top of her dress. Avoiding her lips altogether. “Is there something you want, Emma?”

The air in the car was thick. As he continued to kiss just about every part of her upper body except her lips. She wasn’t the only one who was stubborn.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight, my love,” he cooed in her ear. “Red is a delicious color on you.”

His hand pulled her face into his and (finally) their lips met, a tango of tongues and teeth and jaws crashing together. Killian pushing her mouth further open with his tongue, allowing him in. She groaned again. Her hands finding their way to the lapels of his suit jacket. And then, his mouth was gone.

She was so surprised she had nothing to say. Just trying to catch her breath. Typically when he kissed her like that it meant they were going to fuck.

“Perhaps after dinner,” he said confidently. The smirk on his face almost too annoying to consider handsome. Almost. “As you have just been so kind to remind me, I am a gentleman.”

Bastard.

“We’ve arrived, love,” he said giving her ass one more playful squeeze before scooting out from underneath her legs and extending his hand to help her out of the car. She hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped moving. She quickly righted herself, making sure everything was tucked into her dress that should be and reluctantly took Killian’s hand. “I think you’re going to enjoy this place.”

Standing on the sidewalk and looking up at the building, presumably where they would be dining, Emma noted the name of the restaurant. The Golden Swan, read a sign out front in elegant script. It looked like any other building on the street. Assuming it was a regular fancy restaurant with linen table clothes and expensive food. But once she stepped inside she took that thought back.

“After you, m’lady,” Killian said smoothly as he extended his arm to lead her through the doorway.

A doorman had let them in. Stepping onto old, cobblestone floors Emma’s eyes looked to the scene in front of her. It was beautiful. “What in the…” Emma started.

Killian’s hand pressed into the small of her back ever so gently. Directly in her line of vision was a central stone fountain with floating lights and lily pads. Fanning out from the center were tables, filled with couples dining across from one another. Roses of all different colors decorated the tables, wall sconces. A band of finely tuned instruments to her right filled the air with classical music that mixed perfectly with the light trickle of the fountain water. The soft lighting that fell over the space was calming. Candlelit. Romantic.

Her eyes were drawn upward to the ceiling, painted and lit to look like a clear night sky. Purples, and pinks and grays. It extended high, probably another 3 or 4 floors up. With wrought iron balconies that jutted out from the walls, appearing to house individual booths on each level. The walls surrounding the balconies were covered in floor to ceiling vines and flowers. Almost as if you were dining on the branches of a tree in a whimsical forest. And the entire back wall was made of windows that gave a panoramic view of the city at night.

It was like… if a fairytale book had a five star restaurant, this would be it.

“Killian… it’s beautiful.” That was an understatement. It was quite possibly the most unique space she had ever been in. Emma turned to face him. “What is this place?”

But as he was about to answer a young woman dressed in all black walked up to them. “Mr. Jones, your table is ready,” she said. So they knew who he was here? Maybe it was some place he came often. But it didn’t really seem the type of place to go alone or for a business dinner. The atmosphere was simply too romantic.

“Excellent,” he said. Taking Emma’s hand in his and giving her wrist a light kiss, he followed the hostess toward an old fashioned elevator. One where you had to pull the intricately crafted golden gate closed on your own. Emma’s heels clicked on the cobblestone floor, and she held to Killian a bit tighter in case she tripped.

The elevator let them off several floors up. The top of the restaurant, Emma assumed. She stepped into what appeared to be the largest balcony booth. One that looked over the entire restaurant below. It was lined with rows and rows of wine bottles in oak shelving but still captured the theme of her first impression in that whole room looked like a garden. The ceiling covered in vines. Carefully lit with candles and twinkly lights.

Emma had walked over to the balcony. Simply too surprised to even react verbally. She scanned the restaurant below her, noticing details she hadn’t before. Soft violin music from someone playing on the main floor. Thick velvet curtains. She felt the press of Killian behind her, against the balcony. His hands resting overtop of hers on the wrought iron railing. She relaxed into the feel of his body against hers. She felt like Rapunzel, in the highest tower, away from the rest of the world. But instead of a knight on a white horse rescuing her, a dark prince had her heart. Which she had willingly given to him.

“Well, love, what do you think?” he was the one to break the silence. His voice smooth in her ear, not doing much to inspire her to behave at dinner.

“It’s so… unique. And gorgeous.” She wanted to ask him how he had found such a place, but was distracted by him slowly spinning her to face him. His eyes seemed to match the twinkle of the lights all around them.

“I hoped you would like it here,” he said softly. It wasn’t long before they were interrupted by a waiter, dressed in coat tails who came to help them get settled at their table and offer them drinks.

The soft velvet of the booth was a surprising comfort, and being that the seats wrapped around the entire table Emma gravitated a bit closer toward Killian. Sort of because she wanted to indulge in the balcony view, sort of because she wanted to be near him.

“I think we’ll start with a bottle for the table,” Killian was looking at the printed wine list in his hands. “What kind do you prefer, darling?”

Emma scanned the wine list. Everything was way above her level of wine knowledge. She was used to picking the cheapest bottle on the shelf. Or the cheapest box, if she was being honest.

“Umm…” she pretended to actually weigh the options. She settled on the first one at the top of the red list. “The Sangiovese is fine, I guess.”

She had Sangiovese like one time on a date. Some guy had ordered it, and he had been one of those fancy wine-drinking types. Who knew how to swirl the drink and inhale and would send food back if it wasn’t exactly to his liking. She couldn’t even remember his name right now but the wine knowledge was coming in handy.

“The California or Italy?” the waiter responded. Seemingly, a sensible question. Her eyes widened though, involuntarily.

“The California is fine, thank you,” Killian answered for her. Probably sensing her nerves. As beautiful as this restaurant was, it was also far nicer than any place she had ever been. And it didn’t matter how much makeup she was wearing or how nice her dress was she was still a fish out of water.

“You’ll chase down an escaped criminal, by yourself, unarmed but ordering a bottle of wine makes you sweat?” he said, smirking at her from across the table.

She rolled her eyes at him at she put her napkin into her lap. A human moment. She had never really been to restaurants this nice, even as a child her family lived a simple life. Not like the one he had grown up in and continued to live in as an adult.

“Hey, Emma,” Killian said as he reached for her hand from where he sat, diagonal from her. “I was only joking, love.”

“I’m sorry,” she squeezed his hand. Relishing in the warmth of his touch. “I just, I’m a little nervous.”

“I see. Well would it help if I told you I was nervous as well?”

“It might.” She smiled, and he returned it. Her rigid posture softening a bit when she remembered why in the world she had stuffed herself into this ridiculous dress and spent all afternoon preparing. Because she was excited to be out on a date with man she loved. Because she was his, and she wanted the world to know.

After the wine was brought out, and they each had a glass or so to relax, the rest of the meal went smoothly. The light lull of violin music filling the booth. The candles dimmed as the evening went on. By the time dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate pastry of some sort, covered in strawberry sauce and whipped cream, it had felt like she had been smiling the whole night. Emma’s eyes widened the second it was placed in front of her.

“How is it?” Killian asked after she had taken the first bite. They had moved to the middle of the booth now. Watching from their cozy balcony at the scenic view of the city at night. He had shed his suit coat and now only wore the white button up dress shirt that revealed a sinful amount of chest hair. His arm was draped around the back of the velvet bench, behind where Emma sat. As if they had done this a thousand times together, and it was just routine for them to end a date this way.

“So good,” she said, licking the bits of whipped cream from her lips. At that Killian smiled, and leaned in closer to her to help wipe the rest of with his thumb. But didn’t pull away once it was gone. Instead his hand lingered on her skin, and she caught him glancing down at her lips. “Do you want to try some?”

“Sure, love,” he said, dropping his hand from her chin. It rested on the table in front of them, so Emma prepared a spoonful of dessert. Serving a collection of the chocolate, strawberry, and whipped cream right into his mouth. “Mmmm, delicious.”

Emma felt a warm feeling spread deep in her belly at his throaty words. He was looking only at her now, his eyes focused. She broke his gaze to look around again, some piano music had joined the violin. Making for a beautiful sound that bellowed through the expansive space of the restaurant.

“How did you even find this place?” she asked, leaning into his side and drawing her eyes back to his again. Killian was warm, his arm falling from the back of the booth to cradle her close to him. “It’s incredible.”

“Well…” He scratched behind his ear, looking nervous. She wondered for a moment if this was a place he had taken other dates in the past. A spot he frequented to woo women when he was in the area for business. “I own part of it.”

Not what she was expecting. “You own this place?”

“My company bought the building years ago, when it was entirely apartments. It was part of a bid we made for the structures on this street.” He so rarely spoke with her about his work. She knew he did consulting but the specifics he had never gotten into. Realizing that her work had completely overshadowed his since they had entered each other’s lives months ago. He seemed to realize this at the same time and halted. “This is our first date, Emma. I don’t want to bore you with real estate details.”

“Hey… no I want to know, Killian,” she shifted so she could see all of his face, not just his eyes.

Her tone appeared to reassure him, as he took a deep breath and began to speak. “That’s part of what we do. Restaurant consulting. We do it in other industries as well. Manufacturing, retail, residential. But my favorite section is in restaurants. That’s how I learned to cook. I spent so much time in places like this, I picked up a thing or two.”

Just when she thought he couldn’t surprise her anymore, he goes ahead and tells her that the most magical restaurant she’s ever been in was partially his creation. Emma was pretty sure her mouth was open in wonderment, but she didn’t mind.

“When my company acquired the building it had been vacant for years so a lot of work needed to be done. During construction there was a fire that burned through half of the building. It left the building empty and right before they were about to rebuild the center I recommended it be left open. Which is the space you saw when you first walked in.”

It was hard to believe a place as beautiful as this existed in the real world. Tucked away amongst the hustle and bustle of a city. Passing by on the street you would never know something so unique was here. Emma had known Killian would come to Boston and New York regularly for business but she had never imagined this to be part of it.

“Instead of building more apartments we decided to use the space for a restaurant. One that was private and elegant… a bit over the top. It took a lot of work to bring it to life. It only opened just last year but it’s been going exceptionally well.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this place? Or what you do?” she wondered allowed. As he had spoken of the process he had seemed to swell with pride, and she loved the glimpse of that she was getting.

“It never seemed important. In comparison to what else was going on,” he said. Taking a measured sip of the red wine the waiter had poured. And then disappeared so that they were, once again, alone. “Besides, my career had been such a thorn in my last relationship, I didn’t want to ruin this one as well.”

“Your last relationship ended for a lot of reasons,” Emma said as her hand toyed with the chest hair that was revealed. She felt his heart rate speed up beneath her palm. “Working and having a job you’re passionate about, doing work you’re proud of doesn’t make you a bad man.”

“It was what my father would do,” he said, and for the first time when he referenced his father Emma felt that all of the emotions Killian had toward his father weren’t negative. There was something else in there, like a bit of understanding.

“It’s all in the balance,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. Settling her hand at the back of his neck. “That’s something we can figure out… together.”

He dipped his head a bit. Looking somewhat embarrassed but there was still a smile on his face so she knew that on some level she had gotten through.

“Killian, I want you to feel like you can always tell me things, no matter what’s going on. I want to know what you do with your days and what you’re working on or what you’re watching on Netflix or what you’re reading.”

He clearly liked the sound of that, looking a bit more relieved. Usually he was the one who was more verbal. In conversation, in sex, in anything. But it felt good to talk, and to let him in on a little of what went through her head when she thought of him.

“I want to know about your life. Because…” she wondered whether or not this was an ideal time to dive into this. “Because I want to be a part of that life.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. And I want you to be a part of mine.”

“Well then, there’s something we need to discuss.” He was all serious again, despite being in such cozy quarters with her. This was definitely the most interesting first date she had ever had.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been thinking about moving back to America. For some time now, I’ve gone back and forth about it. Even going so far as to tour an apartment in Boston this week.”

He reached down and pulled her hand up to his chest.

“After I lost my parents, I was terrified of being anywhere near Storybrooke. For years, every time I flew to Boston for work I would be sick with anxiety. Everything was so uncertain. I had no clue what had actually happened to them all those years ago. It was a beast I wasn’t willing to deal with.”

He took another deep breath, and kissed her hand.

“But coming back here now, twenty years later. It feels like there isn’t a place in the world I would rather be. I think part of that comes from my brother being here, he’s my only remaining family so there’s a desire to have roots. And obviously some of it comes from the actual solving of the case, the answers I’ve wondered about for a long time.”

Now his hand went up to cup her cheek. The warm palm sending tingles down her whole body, and the way he looked at her right now made her never want to leave this spot.

“It also comes from you, Emma, and in wanting a future with you. If you want that as well..”

It took Emma a second to process everything. All that he was saying, and asking, was something she never pictured herself having with someone. Let alone someone she cared so much for. The idea alone made her knees completely weak, and she was grateful to be sitting down. Nearly on the lap of this man who she loved so much.

“Of course I want a future with you,” she said, barely able to hold it in anymore. Those words had been on the tip of her tongue for more time than she cared to admit but she was admitting it now. “I just always thought maybe that after the case ended that…”

“That I would leave?”

“Yeah, kind of.” She was embarrassed to even say it. Because every time she looked into his eyes she knew he wasn’t going to leave her.

“As if I could ever resume a life without you in it, Emma,” he said as he twirled a piece of her hair with his finger. “On the contrary I would like your help finding a place for me to live.”

“Yeah?”

“Aye, yours is an opinion I greatly value.”

“Well, it turns out my schedule just freed up a lot, for the next three months actually.”

“I love you,” he said smiling.

“I love you too,” she replied. Relief flooding her body as she realized they just talked about their future, and they both wanted the same things.

Taking their time, they finished the remaining dessert on the table. Feeding each other little bits, savoring in the way the chocolate tasted on each other’s mouths. Flirtier with each bite of dessert and each sip of wine.

At one point, Emma stood from the booth to look down from her tower again. The view of the restaurant below more bustling with activity than when they had first arrived. The bar was crowded with people, the tables on the ground floor were filled with couples, and even a dance floor had opened up around the central fountain. She felt Killian approach her from behind, moving her hair off of her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the bare skin. Her head fell back into his chest. Knowing there were other people in the booths below, but each couple seemed to be just as occupied. “Killian…”

“As good as that dessert was it doesn’t even compare to how delicious you look in that dress, my love. I can hardly wait to tear it off of you later…” he said between kisses. Moving from chaste to near desperate quickly. Emma couldn’t force herself to care that they were technically in public. She just wanted him to keep going.

“You sound awfully sure of yourself, how do you know I’ll let you?” she feigned protest as she extended her neck back so he had more places to put his lips. This was what she always wanted with him. The games mixed with the familiar endearments. It almost reminded her of the night he had shown up at her office and taken her right on the desk. The toying with one another that ensued after. The give and take. He was the only man she had ever known who could keep up with her, in more ways than one.

“Because if I know you, and at this point I think I do,” he spun her so her back was against a wall of vines and flowers. His hands raised to either side of her head, blocking her in. No longer in the balcony view, “you’d have me right now.”

“Would I?” she smirked and dragged her index finger up his chest to where his white dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to see a bit of his chest hair that she loved so much.

“I’d wager your panties are soaked through right now just thinking about it,” he whispered as he bit her ear and his hand began to slowly crawl up her leg. Emma stared at the smug look on his face. He thought he’d won.

“I’m not wearing any,” she said smoothly.

Proud of how confident her voice had come off and using that adrenaline to push her way out of his caged arms. As she walked through the arch toward the elevator she felt his eyes on her back. When Emma turned around to see him staring hungrily at her, she knew she had won. But she wasn’t done yet.

“Why don’t we go downstairs for a dance?” she asked with a coy innocence she wasn’t sure she could pull off until she watched Killian walk purposefully, but with slow, measured steps over to her. She never saw his eyes so dark.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said grabbing her hand and leading her into the now waiting elevator. Being that there was an attendant inside the lift, Emma had to behave herself. And she did… mostly. She grabbed his hand and led him to the center of the dance floor the second the elevator door opened. It had reminded her of the night in his hotel when they slow danced to Frank Sinatra. Though this was their first real date, it occurred to Emma that they had shared so many wonderful nights already. And she thought of more to come, since he was planning on moving back. The night was perfect. When they slow danced for song after song to wordless music, surrounded by other couples in the dim light of the restaurant. When she had lost track of how long they had been dancing. When she pressed her forehead to his and realized the time didn’t matter, she had nowhere to be but here. Until… Killian stepped on her foot and it certainly didn’t help that she was wearing kitten heels with no real support.

“Ooo,” she groaned and leaned over to grab it in the middle of the dance floor.

“Emma, are you alright?” Killian asked, putting one hand on her shoulder. Helping her balance. “I’m so sorry.”

And then she started laughing. Out loud. Much to everyone around her’s disapproval. Killian looked confused.

“I was just thinking about how perfect everything tonight was,” she said, her laugh subsiding as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Pulling him back to her.

“Forgive my clumsiness, I was a bit distracted myself.”

“Maybe it’s time we got out of here,” she leaned in and whispered in his ear. Feeling his whole body tense at her suggestion. “I seem to remember a promise was made in the backseat of the car…”

Before Emma could catch her breath Killian grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd of people. Making their way to the front doors, he dialed his cell phone and muttered a quick, “bring the car around.”

Emma slid across the backseat and Killian crawled in after her. The partition was still up from earlier, thank god, because as soon as the car door closed behind Killian, she was on him. There would be time for slow later, but right now all she wanted was fast and dirty. Something she knew Killian was more than capable of.

“Here.” Between kisses he lifted her and placed her legs on either side of him. Her skirt riding up around her waist. It was too tight for the straddled position across his lap. She continued kissing wherever her mouth could find. His jaw, his neck, his lips. And he did the same with her. The clumsy and hurried kind of foreplay that only worked before car sex.

“We have to be quick,” she moaned. Though she certainly wanted this to last longer.

“Am I having the driver make one stop or two?” he asked, in a way that indicated he knew her answer.

“Only one.”

His tongue trailed wet lines along her sensitive skin. The warm feeling of him sucking on the tops of her breasts that her dress revealed. The sensitive spot just above her nipples. Emma grabbed onto his hair, forcing his head further to her chest.

“Killian,” she breathed. Her head arching back and hitting the partition. She didn’t care though. To have Killian’s lips working their way along her skin was electric and her hips began to grind against his. She could feel his length now fully hard beneath his pants and it made her ache more for him. “Fuck…”

“Christ, Emma,” he moaned, running a finger through her dripping wet folds. “So wet for me… were you like this the whole night?”

She smiled, thinking of how she had been. Emma pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. Then began working on his belt and shirt. Opening the white buttons with no less than reckless abandon. And he slid the top half of her dress down so the red fabric bunched at her waist, giving him full access to her breasts.

“Oh god...” she groaned as he grasped onto a nipple. Taking it between his teeth while the other was massaged by his hand. Everything was quick, hurried. So different from their dinner. But it was no less pleasurable. Her center dripping with want for him as his fingers carefully began to massage her, readying her for him.

Emma reached down into Killian’s unbelted pants and pulled out his hardened cock. Their breath heavy from the quick pace of all their movements.

“I need you… inside of me…” she said between gasps. She didn’t know how much more time they had in the car before it arrived back at his place. So it needed to be fast. She rose onto her knees, heels digging into the leather of the front seat.

“As you wish.” His hands rested on her waist as she eased down onto his length until he was fully inside of her.

“So good,” she screamed. Feeling the whole of him in her. It was unlike anything else.

He began to move, after waiting a few seconds for her to adjust to his size. And for that she was grateful but she needed the friction. Craved it like a woman starved.

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever encountered, darling,” he breathed into her hair. Which had formed a cloak around their faces. Her tamed curls now wild with the passion that coursed through her. “So tight. All for me.”

“Yours,” she cooed, breathless. Trying to keep up with him.

That only made him pump harder, his hips working at a brutal pace. Thrusting up to meet hers, she cried out his name.

“I love when you say my name,” he confessed, continuing his motions as he found her face to kiss her. Rough lips were on hers, hungry, desperate, delicious. She could still taste the barest hints of wine in his mouth. She sucked on his bottom lip to claim it. Make it bright pink from her teeth, and he moaned in satisfaction.

“A bloody temptress you are. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my hands off of you tonight?”

With his words she felt her pleasure building to the heights only he could take her to.

“Your legs in those shoes.” He grabbed at the top of her thighs, running them down to where the spikes of her heels were.

“This damned dress,” he groaned. Bringing his hands up underneath the skirt. She arched her back, leaning into him. Finally reaching her peak, waves of pleasure crashing over her. He was soon to follow, his cock emptying itself inside of her. She milked him dry. Not wanting the feeling to leave her body.

Their ragged breath the only sound in the backseat. It was dark, they had left the lights off to ensure privacy. But she could still see the angles of his face in the dimness that came from the street lights they passed by.

“What are you thinking, love?” he said finally, after he had somewhat caught his breath. Though his voice sounded wrecked and Emma felt a surge of pride at her ability to reduce this man to swoon. Even as his seed was drying on the insides of her thighs as she eased him out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in a car since…I was a teenager” the last time was probably when she was in high school. When the backseats of cars were the only option unless you wanted your parents to catch you.

“And how did this time measure up?”

“So much better,” she leaned forward, still in his lap, pressing her breasts into his chest. Loving the feeling of his rough chest hair on her bare skin.

“I should hope so.”

“I’m so happy.” She latched her hands onto the sides of his shirt that she had torn open. His hands that were resting on the tops of her thighs tightened around her. Pulling Emma all the more close. He smelled incredible, his perfectly manicured hair from earlier now a wreck from her hands.

“Me too.” His hands moved from her legs to wrap around her back. Drawing figures with his fingers in her skin. “How is it that it has only been a few days since I last had you and it felt like an eternity?”

Oh thank god she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“We’re one of those nauseating couples who can’t get enough of each other I suppose…” She planted a kiss on his lips. Far more chaste than any they had shared so far this night. But the car had come to a stop, and they would have to get out sooner or later.

“Help me get this back on, please,” she said hurriedly in reference to her dress. That was currently covering nothing.

“Seems a bloody waste, as I’ll be tearing it off of you as soon as we get upstairs,” Killian whispered in her ear. Sliding the fabric back up her body and then putting his suit coat over her shoulders. Lifting her long blonde hair and laying it so it framed her face. “You’ve red marks all over you from my mouth, I would hate for the hotel staff to see.”

Emma felt her cheeks get red. She could only imagine what her skin looked like. It was always so responsive to him. Every part of her was. She loved the feel of his mouth on her, the way his body felt pressed against hers. The way every move he made was to please and excite her. As if that made him just as happy.

But when they got off of the elevator, walking into Killian’s penthouse nothing was hurried. In fact, it was quite the opposite. They were greeted at the door by Killian’s dog, who needed to be let out.

Emma followed Killian out to the patio, it was a nice night. The stars could be seen from where they stood. Killian poured Emma and himself another glass of wine, from an ice bucket that rested on a room service cart, waiting for them. The white linen cloth covered in red rose petals. He had thought of everything. Right down to last possible detail. It had felt like a fairytale. The date she had been so nervous for. Holding her glass of wine, she looked over at Killian who was leaned against the railing sipping his glass of wine.

“Come here,” he said with a smile. And she went to him, allowing him to envelop her in his arms. She looked up at him, even with her heels she was still a tiny bit shorter than he was. “I thought I would make a toast.”

“Hmm, and to what are we toasting?” Emma swirled the light, bubbly colored liquid in her glass.

“To all of your hard work,” He raised one of his arms that was wrapped around her with the wine in it, “Bringing justice to a situation I never thought I would know the solution to.”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, clinking her glass to his. Keeping their eyes locked with one another as they sipped.

“And to our first date, something I’ve waited a long time to have with you, my love.” His honesty was jarring. The genuine look of love and admiration on his face warmed her heart, reminding her that it in fact was full. “How did I do?”

“Everything was perfect, Killian,” she said with all of the feeling she could muster. Hoping that he knew how wonderful it had been.

“Will you go out with me again?” he asked, all of a sudden very serious. His eyebrow up in question. And she couldn’t help but smile. Another question he obviously knew the answer to.

Instead of answering aloud, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Of course she would go out with him again. Her mouth moved slowly but deliberately on his. Easing her tongue inside she got carried away. Not entirely her fault, as his mouth was just as needy. And it never ended.

Their kissing moved from standing, to lying side by side on one of the lounge chairs on the patio. Slow movements of their mouths crashing into one another, with no promise of stopping. They made love. Loving, passionate sex for hours. Emma crying out his name over and over. Killian whispering dirty yet beautiful things to his love. They broke only to bask in the pleasure of simply being able to have one another at any time. They memorized each inch and curve of each other. The way you could when there was nowhere to be. No crisis to take care of, no outbreaks of injustice. Nothing could interfere.

For once, their time was not borrowed. It was theirs.

[ktrosesworld]

50 Questions for Fic Readers

I just felt like answering some questions (source post @braveten)

1. What fandom(s) do you read?

Doctor Who and TenInch Fic

2. If you could request more of a certain type of fic, which would it be?

I would love for more people to take up the challenge of writing TenInch Fic ... so many DT characters that need some loving

3. What is your favorite all-time fic?

It’s not possible to pick just one!?!?!?!? It would be a toss up between stories written by @whoinwhoville @kelkat9 @jellyneau-xo @studio-forty-two @natural--blues @licieoic @pipertennant ... okay i’m stopping there because this list will get really long

4. Do you ever re-read fics? How about triple-read?

I quadruple read, quintuplet read, sextuplet read, septuplet read ... some I read every six months or so because I need to live in those worlds

5. Do you prefer angst or fluff?

Yes

6. Do you prefer long fics or short fics?

Yes

7. Name some incomplete fics that you wish were completed.

Blimey ... umm ... okay ... here’s a short list

Bad Wolf by @licieoic Shades of Blue Series by @bluedawn0123 [Edit: oops I had the wrong author] Out of the Ashes by @mercwithamouth Meetings Series by @wildwinterwitch Every story ever abandoned by throughanamberfocus especially The Zeppelin Verse

8. Talk about the ships that you read.

Doctor x Rose is the beginning, the middle and the end but really I’m all about the story ... if it’s good and captures my imagination I’ll read all sorts of little and giant ships

9. Do you read smut?

Of course!!! And you do too ;p

10. What’s the most hard-core smut or kinky fic you’ve ever read (be honest)!

I’ve read some really weird stuff in the wee hours of the morning ... but as for the ones I really enjoyed

Claimed by @licieoic Metacrisis: Jack by @fogsblue  Four Dimensional by Annissa

11. Do you read AUs?

I LOVE AUs!!!!!!

12. List a few of your favorite AUs.

Gallifrey Records by @allrightfine and @gallifreyburning  Perfect Match by @lastbluetardis  TARDIS Bookstore by @ofstormsandwolves A Ghost Story by @kelkat9 Evolution of a Scandal by @rishidiams Elsewhere by @fadewithfury Heartsmith by @licieoic Arkytior: A Snow White Tale by @natural--blues 

13. What type of AUs are your favorites? Give a general description.

See the list above :D

14. What makes you give up on reading a fic?

Mainly if I don’t like the way the characters are written or if the story is not put together well ... having said that I’ve persevered with some really crappy writing for a story idea that captured by imagination

15. What makes you pick up a fic, what makes it sound interesting?

It’s different every day because my reading tastes change with my moods

16. Name a fic that made you cry (or that made you come close).

The Time Loop series by @weezly14 ... every single damn time my poor heart hurts just thinking about it

17. Name a fic that made you laugh a lot.

Psychedelic Pollen and Dalek Squirrels by @kelkat9 ... tell me you’re not laughing already just at that title :D

18. Do you have a fic recommendation page or master list?

Do @timepetalsprompts and @teninchfic count as rec pages???

19. How many fics do you think you’ve read before?

Easily tens upon tens of thousands probably even into the hundreds of thousands now

20. What’s the weirdest fic you’ve ever read? Describe it.

I read one where the Doctor’s penis had it’s own personality and I think it was detachable and possibly changed personality when the Doctor regenerated ... it was one of those that you kept thinking the author was on some fairly serious drugs when they wrote it but you just can't stop reading it

21. Do you read crack!fic?

I think we should just take it for granted that I read all types of fic

22. Name a few of your favorite crack!fics.

Once again favourite ... okay the first one I thought of was ...

Lordstorm and his LiveJournal Adventures by @kelkat9 

23. Has fluff ever made you cry? What about angst?

Oh I’ve definitely cried at both

24. What’s the longest fic you’ve ever read?

The Life and Times of Daniel Ulysses Barrow by ceeare ... it was over 500k but unfortunately the author took it down to “break it up in to readable pieces” and has never finished publishing it again ... it was one of those ones that will rip your heart out

25. What’s your opinion on reading dubious consent or no consent?

Once again it all depends on the story ... there are some where its sex pollen induced which I’m completely okay with ... but then there are some stories that describe rape as if it’s just a normal sex scene which I am very much against ... I’ll stop reading those stories immediately and never look back

26. Name a type of fic you’ll never ever read.

I try not to say never ever because there are ships that I thought I’d never read but then got desperate for new stories and discovered some amazing authors who made me fall in love with ships I had in the notp bucket ... I’m looking at you @basmathgirl in particular

27. Name a type of fic that you wish there was more of.

teninch fic and doctor piper fic ... I just love authors challenging themselves to write new characters

28. Who are your favorite fanfiction author(s)?

This gets me into trouble ... okay authors I’ve not mentioned yet that I love to read ... @caedmonfaith @thedistortedmirror @emkaywho @faithosaurus-fics @justbygrace @lixabiz @lostinfic @nannyogg123 @nopondintheforest @perfectlyrose @doctor-who-hears-a-horton @rudennotgingr @tenscupcake @veritascara @whatwecanfic ... there are soooooooo many more but this is quick list from my following page

29. When you find an author you like, do you follow them?

Absolutely!!!!! If I fall in love with one of their stories I want to read everything they’ve written

30. How often do you read fanfiction?

EVERY DAY ... for many many hours ... before I go to sleep ... when I wake up ... whenever I can

31. Do people know that you read fanfiction?

Well everyone on here knows ... in RL ... well I’ve made vague mentions about reading Doctor Who and Broadchurch stories online but don’t get into specifics ... although I did get my Mum addicted to A Million Holes Poked in the Soul by @nannyogg123 

32. Do you leave reviews after reading fics? If so, what do they sound like?

I used to write comments after every fic I read but it was slowing down my reading now I only leave comments on things I really enjoyed and felt compelled to comment on ... so they tend to be gushy :D

33. When you read a good fic, do you go to the author’s page?

Definitely, I always want to read more stories by a talented author

34. Name a common type of fic that you cannot stand.

You’ll probably hate me for this but ... I’m not a fan of the drabble ... there I said it let the backlash begin

35. Name all the Work in Progress fics that you are currently reading.

hahahahahahahahaha ... umm sorry ... currently I have 40 update notifications of individual stories in my email ... and that’s just the ones I haven’t caught up with yet ... oh and some of them I’m a few chapters behind so I’ve opened the new emails to keep the count down so I don’t feel so bad ... the reality is that I’m probably reading about 60-70 WIPs ... this post is long enough without me adding this list to it

36. Has a fic ever left you unable to fall asleep or think about anything else?

Heeled by @jellyneau-xo ... I don’t think I’ll ever be able to own a pet again ... actually all of Jelly’s stories have me thinking about them long after they’ve finished

37. Are you good about keeping up when reading Work in Progresses?

Despite what I’ve said above I’m not that bad ... although I tend to delay reading fics I love so I get a nice big chunk of reading in one go

38. Name some of your favorite fic recommendations pages.

See all the rec pages by @allegoricalrose ... definitely some quality reading there :D

39. Name a fanfiction author that you’re scared to talk to because they’re so amazing.

I remember being terribly scared about talking to @kelkat9 and @whoinwhoville because I am so in awe of their writing but they are both absolutely beautiful people and you should definitely reach out to them to talk about writing and all things DW and DT :)

40. Have you ever written fanfiction or considered it?

I once was strictly a reader only and then I wrote a little thing and then another and then @pipertennant and @studio-forty-two kept encouraging me to write more and more and well I guess I have to call myself a fanfic writer now

41. Name a fic that has a perfect ending.

Don’t make me choose ... as long as they have a happy ever after I’m good

42. Name a fic that you wish was longer.

ALL OF THEM.  ALL! OF! THEM!!!!!!!

43. Do you read OT3 fics commonly? Have you ever?

I love ‘em especially ... Loved ‘verse and Lostverse by fid_gin and unfolded73

44. Do you mainly read TV shows, movies, or books?

umm yes?? DW and TenInch fic cover all of that don’t they??

45. Do you read fanfiction about Anime?

No, I’m claiming generational age gap ... I’ve never really got into Anime

46. If you could imagine the perfect fic, what would it be like?

The one yet to be written ... don’t know who the author is yet

47. If you had to introduce someone to fanfiction with a few fics, which would you suggest?

For TenInch Fic ... Providential Contingency by @studio-forty-two and tennantmeister ... they created the genre with this story ... I know I talked them into it ;)

For DW ... blimey there are just so many ... take a pick of any of the ones I’ve recc’d above

48. Have you ever read a fic containing character death?

Yep, and written one ... and writing another ... shhhhh it’s taking a while to write it and this time I’m not going to publish it until I’ve finished it

49. Do you have an AO3/Fanfiction.net/LiveJournal page? Link it.

This is me on AO3

50. What sites do you typically use to read on?

I started reading on Teaspoon but now I read almost exclusively on AO3 ... I like being able to leave kudos and get notifications of responses to comments :)