#I don’t remember how old Colin is

[d-targaryenshoe]

Blissful Banter- Luke Thompson

Word count: 1432

Summary: Yet a lie detector brings fun to one's connection even the truth likes to be discovered.

Luke glanced at the lie detector machine with skepticism and amusement.

You sat across from him with a playful smile on your face.

You had been together for a little over a year, and despite your age gap—Luke being thirty-six and you twenty-five, you had developed a deep and affectionate relationship.

However, you both had a teasing nature, often poking fun at each other in a way that only made your bond stronger.

Today, you decided to put your playful banter to the test, literally, by trying out a lie detector test.

"Are you sure about this?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched the technician prepare the equipment.

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice light with excitement. "I’ve always wanted to see if you could lie to me with a straight face."

Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "I don’t lie, love. I’m an open book."

You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Sure, and I’m the Queen of England."

The technician, a stern-looking man in his fifties, adjusted the sensors on Luke’s wrist.

"Remember, the machine will measure changes in your physiological responses," he explained in a monotone. "So try to relax."

"Easy for you to say," Luke muttered under his breath. He caught your amused gaze and winked. "Bring it on."

With the machine ready, the technician nodded at you to start.

"Okay, let’s start with something simple," you said, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair. "Who’s your favorite character in Bridgerton?"

Luke smirked. "Benedict, of course. How can I not."

The lie detector remained steady, confirming his truthfulness.

"Really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your own character."

Luke laughed, shaking his head. "Anthony’s too uptight. And Colin is the opposite of Ben, cool, confident, and irresistible."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile. "Alright, Mr. Confident. Let’s see if you’re as honest about other things."

You leaned forward, your tone turning teasingly. "Do you like my cooking?"

Luke hesitated for a fraction of a second, a split-second that didn’t escape your notice.

"Of course I do," he replied, his voice a tad too enthusiastic.

The machine beeped softly, indicating a small spike.

You gasped, your eyes wide with mock indignation. "You liar! I knew you didn’t like my quinoa salad!"

Luke chuckled, shrugging. "It’s not that I don’t like it, I just... prefer your lasagna."

"Mm-hmm," you said, squinting at him playfully. "I’ll remember that next time you ask for seconds."

The atmosphere between you was light and full of affection, with the lie detector test turning into a fun game rather than a serious interrogation.

You both knew that these little white lies—like Luke’s opinion on quinoa—were part of what made your relationship so enjoyable.

"Alright, my turn," Luke said, sitting up a bit straighter. "Do you secretly think I’m too old for you?"

Your expression softened as you considered your answer. "Truthfully? No, I don’t think you’re too old for me. I love that you’re a bit older. It makes me feel like I have someone who’s mature and knows what he wants."

The machine stayed silent, confirming your truthfulness.

Luke’s heart warmed at your words, and he smiled, reaching across the table to take your hand. "I’m glad to hear that."

You squeezed his hand in return, then leaned back with a mischievous grin. "But just to keep things interesting… Do you ever get jealous when I talk about how attractive Simone Ashley is?"

Luke’s grin turned into a mock scowl. "Jealous? Me? Never." But the lie detector’s soft beep betrayed him.

You burst out laughing. "I knew it! You’re jealous."

Luke raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, fine, maybe just a little. But can you blame me? She's an absolute gem."

"True," you agreed, still giggling. "But don’t worry, you’re the only one for me."

You shared a tender moment, the banter giving way to genuine affection.

Luke realized that despite the light-hearted nature of the test, it was reaffirming what you both knew deep down—that you were crazy about each other, quirks and all.

"Okay, back to business," Luke said, clearing his throat. "How much did you actually know about Bridgerton before we started dating?"

You blushed slightly, biting your lip. "Honestly? Not much. I might have watched a couple of episodes before, but I wasn’t really into it until I met you."

The machine remained silent, and Luke smiled. "So, you started watching it just because of me?"

"Maybe," you admitted, your cheeks still pink. "I mean, it was worth it to understand your character."

Luke laughed, feeling touched. "That’s sweet. I’ll give you that one."

"Your turn," you said, your eyes gleaming with mischief. "Did you really think I was into you on our first date, or did you think I was just being polite?"

Luke chuckled, remembering your first date. "I was pretty sure you were into me. I mean, who wouldn’t be?"

You raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for the lie detector’s verdict.

The machine, however, remained steady, backing up Luke’s confidence.

"Wow, someone’s cocky," you teased, though you were impressed.

"What can I say?" Luke replied, grinning. "I’ve got a sixth sense for these things."

You shook your head, as though you were smiling. "Alright, Mr. Sixth Sense. Here’s a tough one—have you ever lied to me about something important?"

Luke’s smile faltered slightly as he thought about the question.

He wanted to answer quickly and truthfully, but the seriousness of the question caught him off guard.

"No," he said finally, his tone sincere. "I haven’t lied to you about anything important."

The lie detector agreed with him, showing no signs of deception.

You smiled softly, your eyes filled with warmth. "Good. I believe you."

Luke exhaled, realizing just how much your trust meant to him. "I’d never lie to you about something that mattered. You’re too important to me."

For a moment, the playful atmosphere shifted to something deeper, a reminder of the solid foundation you had built together despite your age difference and different life experiences.

"Okay," you said, clearing your throat and lightening the mood again.

"Let’s end on a fun one. Have you ever pretended to be interested in one of my hobbies just because you didn’t want to hurt my feelings?"

Luke laughed, knowing exactly what you were referring to. "You mean like when I pretended to enjoy that pottery class?"

You gasped, your eyes wide with faux outrage. "You didn’t enjoy it?"

"The clay was all over the place, and I made a bowl that looked more like a pancake," Luke admitted, grinning. "But I did it because I wanted to spend time with you."

The lie detector stayed silent, indicating that he was telling the truth.

You giggled, shaking your head. "Okay, I’ll give you that. But I actually thought your pancake bowl was pretty cute."

"Thanks," Luke said, smiling. "But let’s stick to your cooking from now on."

You laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Deal. But only if you promise to keep watching Bridgerton with me, even when there’s no more Simon Basset."

Luke leaned across the table, capturing your lips in a quick, affectionate kiss. "Deal."

As you wrapped up the lie detector session, Luke realized that the test, while initially just a bit of fun, had brought you closer.

The playful teasing, the honest confessions, and the laughter reminded you both of why you worked so well together.

Despite the differences in your ages, your relationship was built on trust, understanding, and a shared sense of humor.

"Well, that was fun," you said as you stood up, stretching after being seated for so long. "We should do this again sometime."

"Only if you’re ready to admit that I’m your favorite Bridgerton," Luke replied with a wink.

You rolled your eyes, as though you were smiling. "We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll start lying just to keep you on your toes."

Luke laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked out of the room. "As long as you keep laughing with me, I think we’ll be just fine."

As you left the building, the sun setting in the distance, you both knew that the little adventure with the lie detector had only strengthened your bond.

After all, love wasn’t just about being truthful, it was about finding joy in each other’s quirks, teasing, and growing together—even when a lie detector was involved.

With that thought in mind, Luke and you walked hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges—and jokes—your relationship might bring next.

[thebennsofdallas]

In defense of Season 6 (What we do in the Shadows)

I’ve seen talk about season 6.  How people are disappointed. How the writers have blown it, how Guillermo and Nandor are in so few scenes together, how canon has been thrown by the wayside.

So, I have to gently disagree. I think this is the best season of the series and that’s coming from a full-on Nandermo truther (with Laszlermo tendencies). I think this season HAS moved Guillermo and Nandor’s story forward. But it’s so much more than that. These 8 episodes have connected all the vampires in ways I never expected.

Think of all we learned about the vampires in just the first episode. Guillermo and Nandor apparently made an agreement to stay away from each other until Guillermo got his life together. (UNTIL. Keep that in mind.) Nandor obviously didn’t give a fuck about that and has been keeping tabs on him in secret. How else can he be so matter-of-fact about being separated from Guillermo and also, know where he was working?

Nadja has longed to interact more with humans and Laszlo forbade it, which caused a massive rift between them that lasted years. Man of science Laszlo had a dream to reanimate life out of dead tissue that he gave up on in favor of spending more time wanking. And Colin Robinson has been lonely for a real friend, even one made out of random body parts.

That’s a lot of stuff there, good stuff. Yes, we briefly had to deal with the prospect of Jerry destroying our show (okay, that was probably just me) but it turns out, Jerry was just a vehicle to reveal more about our beloved characters (I think Jerry will be a factor in the finale but that’s another story). The same with Guillermo’s departure from the vampires’ employ. It was barely a separation. Nadja and Nandor felt compelled to follow Guillermo all the way to his office, to “protect him”. And Laszlo restarted his project to create new life and allowed Colin Robinson to join in.

The writers are mixing and matching the cast in a way they’ve never done before. Nandor/Nadja, Laszlo/Colin, Colin/Nadja, Laszlo/Nandor. It’s a fresh spin on the old dynamic and it’s hilarious. And it demonstrates how much these four care about each other and that feels new, too.

As for Nandor and Guillermo, it might feel like they aren’t together as much but when they are together, it packs a punch. Except for the beginning of episode one, when Nandor childishly pretends like he doesn’t remember Guillermo, there’s been no more pretense. Guillermo has always worn his heart on his sleeve where Nandor is concerned but now, Nandor is wearing his there, too and it’s exciting to see our suspicions confirmed in a big, big way — these two idiots love each other and it’s just a matter of time before they have to acknowledge it. I don’t expect a vampire wedding in the future but something is coming. I just know it.

Episode 9 tomorrow, y’all. Episode 9 is where this show usually goes off the rails and into a ditch. So hold on. It’s gonna be a bumpy night.

[colinsfakeglasses]

About ShowPen and BookPen

I was reading about how BookPen give up LW and ShowPen didn’t or that BookLW didn’t make the same damage ShowLW did and wanted to add my 2 cents.

1. BookPen wasn’t in the same situation ShowPen was in terms of security and madurity at all. Why? Because it is said in the book that the Featheringtons even without a male relative were with no problems financially because Portia’s family left her her own money that wasn’t part of her dowry and Pen, when the book start, had 28 years old so was the double of rich. They had an aunt that died and Penelope make it seems through her solicitor that the aunt was rich and left them money (but in truth was her own money). So was older, wiser and if I remember correctly her older sisters didn’t bothered her and she has Felicity, her little sister who ADORES (*using Benedict’s voice*) her.

ShowPen didn’t have this security and she was practically pushed to look for a husband and change her attitude if she didn’t want her life to be a nightmare. She was already rich but she was still a girl too and less confident (BookPen when heard Colin’s infamous words didn’t run but step up and told him she didn’t want to marry him either and never asked him to).

2. Then why did BookPen give up LW? It wasn’t for love that’s for sure because it happened before her romance with Colin. She give up LW because she was bored decided that even if she never marry she didn’t want to live in the shadows anymore, because living through Whistledown she neglected her real life.

ShowPen was on her peak with LW and wasn’t ready to give her up, basically in that moment her column was the only thing she had some form of control of because all around her was collapsing. She wasn’t ready and she didn’t want to so I LOVED that even when Colin suggested more that once that giving up LW will fix their problems she said “I don’t know” every time. She wanted to before because she make the decision to protect Colin’s heart, but when her secret was out she wasn’t going to let him to push her to give up a part of herself (it wasn’t like Colin was forcing her or anything but a weaker woman wouldn’t have steped up).

I think they found each other in the middle and I loved that ♡

3. BookLW didn’t write the things ShowLW did about her friends. Well BookPen didn’t have a revolutionary friend either or her cousin trying to trap a friend or the Queen breathing in her neck.

I think BookPen and ShowPen have the same spirit and are not differents but their circumstances were.

Peace ✌🏼

[superectojazzmage]

I made a post back when the previous season of What We Do In The Shadows ended (which I can’t seem to find now, thanks for nothing, Tumblr) discussing how it ended the way it did because the whole central theme of the show is really how bad people trap themselves in Hells of their own making where nothing ever changes for the better because they refuse to make the effort to work on their flaws and how, once you cut through the jokes and metaphor, it’s really a show about a group of social parasites slowly destroying whatever joy they could have in life because they’re too set in their toxic ways to do even the bare minimum of treating other people decently, let alone actually doing something good with their lives.

And I bring this up, because the season premiere, I think, just drove the point home EVEN HARDER. Because despite everything that happened in the previous season, the vampires and Guillermo have ended up literally directly back at square fucking one. After everything, every zany scheme, every wacky adventure, every interaction with others, they’ve wound up right back where they started as they always do; puttering around the same shitty old mansion they’ve been in for years. They destroy every possible escape from that godforsaken house and no matter what they try, they inevitably drift back to it because it’s the only place for a group of people like them.

Nandor is still doing stupid shit because of how stuck in the past he is and still burying his feelings constantly. Lazlo is still a bungling moron who’s not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is and still has nobody to hang out with socially except his wife and Sean. Nadja is still whining about never getting what she wants after having literally burned down the best thing to happen to her in years. Colin is still leeching off everyone around him with no meaning in his life except boring others and he doesn’t even remember how Lazlo cared for him while he was regenerating. Even Guillermo FINALLY getting turned into a vampire changed absolutely nothing about his life; the process isn’t working like it’s supposed to — probably because of his vampire hunter bloodline — and nothing has improved about his life. He’s still just playing butler to the vamps and getting nothing but disrespect for it.

I love this show, man. It’s an absolutely brilliant deconstruction of the whole concept of sitcoms, pointing out how toxic, pathetic, and weird a group of friends in real life who do nothing but making snarky comments for a nonexistent camera and getting into wacky situations would be, while at the same time being a legitimately hilarious example of the genre. If it weren’t a silly comedy about vampires, it’d probably be a hard-hitting drama about a bunch of drug addicts squatting in a dilapidated rental being toxic to each other and only leaving to go on benders they don’t even remember after and that is oddly brilliant.

[spaceorphan18]

HELLO AND WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!

Since there's been a huge influx of new people I thought I'd do an official welcome page! Hi, I'm SO (or you can call me Pam). :)

I'm terrible at 'about me's -- I'm old enough to remember all of the 90s, live in a place that looks like your hand, and run a bookstore for a living (which is not as glamorous as it sounds, but yes I get a really good deal on books).

I'm super into media and literary analysis and if you're looking for a place to find all my writing : YOU CAN FIND MY MASTER LIST OF WRITING HERE (I'll try to get this updated soon, it's somewhat out of date.)

I also write fic! : My Ao3 Page Yes, I have a lot of WiPs, yes they are all being worked on. ;)

IF YOU ARE HERE FOR THE BRIDGERTON!

Pretty solidly a Pen and Colin girly, but I like most of the characters on the show, and am pretty respectful of all other ships

General tag is : bridgerton and Meta tag is : polination

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Rogue has been my girl since I was a child and I am 100% here for all the Rogue and Gambit. I'm a really huge fan of X-Men in general, as well as the greater Marvel universe. I also really enjoy the MCU (even if it is in a questionable state at the moment).

General Tag : xmen, Meta Tag : Marvel Meta, MCU Tag : mcu

Also check out The Rogue and Gambit Project where I'm talking about Rogue and Gambit's 30 year comics relationship.

IF YOU'RE HERE FOR THE GLEE

That probably means you’ve been here a while, and I’m so sorry I changed all the decorations on you. Please know that Klaine will forever have my heart. And I’m still reblogging plenty of Glee related things.

Tags:

Celebrity Kindred Spirit - Chris Colfer related things

DC Appreciation Hour - Darren Criss related things

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(plus see the main master list of writing for ALL the rest of it)

IF YOU’RE HERE BECAUSE I DRAGGED YOU ONTO A PODCAST ALMOST A DECADE AGO…

That’s your own damn fault for befriending me and now you’re stuck with your life choices, get used to it.

I’m pretty multi fandom these days and in addition to the above, will discuss non stop The Office, Parks and Rec, Lost, Legend of Zelda, and all things Tolkien, as well as whatever else suits my fancy. I do try to tag things in a general fashion so it’s easy to black list anything you don’t want to see.

I also have a tag for writing advice I’ve collected over the years : S.O. Writes

As well as a book blog where you can check out what I’m reading : SBC Bookclub

My Ask Box is always open, but don’t be an asshat on the internet, you’ll either be deleted or ignored. I do try to respond to everything I get as long as you’re polite!

Come say hi! I’m pretty friendly and I do love chatting with everyone!! Thanks for coming to my blog!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 30

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Three days since Lloyd’s return and you’re already suffocating. He may not be his most volatile but he’s always better in small doses. So you wake up a bit earlier than usual and gear up; leggings, cotton shirt, a hoodie too tight to zip, and your pregnancy belt.

He rolls onto his back and groans. His bruises are fading but he’s still in pain. He lets you know it. His griping is driving you nuts. You need a break before you beat him up yourself.

“Where are you going?” He asks groggily, rubbing his cheek only to wince as he touches the bruises there.

“For my walk.”

“Your walk?” He pushes himself up on an elbow to look at you, “what does that mean?”

“It means you were gone for a month and I got a month of freedom,” you sneer, “it’s nice out, so I like to walk around the neighbourhood a bit. It’s good for the baby.”

“You shouldn’t go alone,” he sits up and groans, rubbing his discoloured stomach.

“I can handle myself, Lloyd, it’s almost eight in the morning, there aren’t any thugs out their waiting to jump me,” you scoff, “the only thug around here is in this room.”

“Hm,” he lays back on the pillows, “fine.”

“How about I bring you a coffee before I go,” you offer, “hate to say it, but I think you’re in worse shape than me. I just really don’t care if you’re left to fend for yourself.”

“Wow, you know, peaches, I think I overestimated you,” he shifts and lets out another strained groan, “you’re not as nice as I thought.”

“Well, you could get your own coffee. I mean, it’d be justice considering I can’t have any. And it’s all your fault.”

“Baby cakes,” he whines.

“Ugh, see, this is exactly why I need to get out,” you shake your head, “I’m not your mother, Lloyd, she’s gone home.”

“But you are mommy,” he grins and you resist the urge to find something to throw at him.

“Ew, I’m gonna get the coffee on, then I’m gonna get my shit and go,” you turn on your heel and shuffle away, “I have faith in you, Marion, you can make it to the kitchen.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he bemoans.

“You’ve called me worse and you know it.”

💎

You leave the coffee dripping from the machine and a mug beside it. The burner will keep it warm long enough for him to find a way down. You shove your feet into your sneakers, leaving the laces loose as you can’t bend far enough to do anything about it. Besides, your feet are swollen as fuck.

You put in the wired earbuds that came with your phone and turn on the podcast you found about some old reality show you used to watch when you were younger. You remember how you would wake up in time to watch it on primetime before heading out for another night shift. Colin’s looming memory hardly makes you think anymore, he’s just someone who was there, just a bystander in your wasted life.

You follow the long drive and breathe in the fresh scent of pollen, your allergies tickling behind your eyes. You’ll have to water the bulbs Harlan planted when you get back. They’re starting to sprout up. 

Birds bathe in the marble bath and tweet around the feeder Dottie helped you hang. In Lloyd’s absence, you’d done your best to distract yourself, to do the things you could never do in your old duplex. To enjoy what you could before a baby got in the way.

You reach the gate and stop to take a breath. You brace your back, just over the top of the thick belt, and start down the street. The neighbourhood is sparse, a collective of oversized mansions across lush fields, framed with perfectly trimmed hedges. You try to meter your breath as you reach the end of the Hansen estate.

As you pass in front of the next house, you nearly scream. A man nearly bowls you over as he hops through his gate and catches your arm as he steps back, steadying both of you. Your earbuds tug free of your ears as your hand hits the wire. The stranger lets you go and pulls out a wireless bud from his ear.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“Me either,” you say as you lay your hand on your stomach, his eyes following the habitual touch, “I wasn’t paying attention at all.”

“Neither was I,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, just along the stubble that weaves into his thick beard. He’s familiar in a very unnerving way. “I’d feel awful if I’d knocked you over,” he nods to your stomach, “both of you.”

“Oh, uh, well, it’s all good,” you say as you pull up your dangling earbuds, “I was just about to turn back at the end of the street anyway. Can’t make it much further.”

“Ah, do you mind company? I was headed in the same direction.”

“Please, I don’t want to slow you down,” you note his obvious running gear.

“I don’t mind. Always good to get to know the neighbours,” he smiles, his eyes sparkling at you, “Andy.”

He offers his hand and you consider it. You shake it stiffly and return your name. 

“So, which house do you live in?” He asks.

“Just next door,” you point over the tall brick wall before heading away from it, resuming your usual path.

“Hansen’s… wife? Wow, I didn’t even know he was married.”

“Oh? I guess… I guess we don’t go out much.”

“Well, I’ve seen you here and there,” he admits as he walks with you, keeping an easy pace with you, “I just didn’t know how to say hi, I guess.”

“Mmm, right,” you nod as you wrap up your earbuds around your phone and tuck it back in the pocket of your leggings, “I guess I’m not very… observant. Especially since I got knocked up. I tend to zone out a bit.”

“My wife was the same way,” he intones, “do you know your shoes are untied?”

“I’m aware. I can’t really reach.”

“Hold up,” he stops you with his arm across your path, “it’s a tripping hazard.”

“But–” you stop yourself from arguing that they’re tucked in.

He tugs them out from under your feet and you feel him knotting them tight. He reappears as he stands up and you continue down the lane. He’s friendly enough and it wouldn’t be so bad to know someone beyond the man you call your husband.

“So, you said your wife was pregnant… how old is your kid?”

He’s quiet as he takes a breath, “he was fifteen.”

You cup your hand over your stomach, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says, “really. I’m not saying it to get sympathy. It’s just… what happened.”

“Still, it’s a lot to go through. Losing a child,” you can’t help but peek down at your belly.

“And a wife,” he adds, “car accident. I’m working through it.”

“I’m–”

“Don’t. No sorry’s. None of it. It’s behind me,” he assures you. “You and Hansen, how long you been with him?”

“You care that much?”

“Well, I’d rather talk about your family than mine.”

“Fair enough. Uh…” you’re not sure how to answer, “too long.”

He laughs, “yeah, about what I expected. He’s a character for sure.”

“You know him well?”

“Not as well as I thought, apparently,” he says, “never even said anything about a wife. Or a kid… kids?”

“Just the one,” you say as you reach the corner and stop, “I’ll tell him you said hello.”

“Actually, I wouldn’t,” he puts his hands on his hips and squints against the sunlight, “I know him, but I wouldn’t say I like him. Or that he likes me for that matter.”

You push your lips out and make a noise, “got it. Actually, I don’t know why I thought he would.”

“He’s not really the neighbourly type,” Andy remarks as he checks his watch, “anyway, I’ll let you go. And next time you go out, get your husband to tie your shoes. Can’t have you falling out here.”

“Will do,” you muster a small smile, “sorry to slow you down.”

“Not at all,” he bounces in place, “it was nice meeting you, neighbour.”

“You too,” you reply and turn on your heel, leaving him to stretch as you head off back to the house in no hurry. You unfurl your earbuds and put them back in your ears, skipping back to your place in the episode. Lloyd can wait a little longer while you finish your podcast in the garden.

[fancyfade]

in regards to your post about damian retiring being boring I agree. I think most fans in favour of that mostly like it because they hc he’ll move into the medical field. Either as a surgeon or vet, which I like as a concept and think it’s cool. However I don’t like the idea of him retiring it’s boring and lame I can’t see that being written interestingly enough that would keep him in content and would most likely be a way to have him written off or erased from Batman/fam comics etc.

anyway I don’t know if you’ve discussed it before but what kind of superhero identity do you see damian creating or a mantle he inherits after moving on from Robin? and what would you want his civilian identity to be like? I definitely see the appeal of damian pursuing the something in the medical field or finishing college just like his mom

Like he’s an extremely skilled surgeon already??? And doesn’t he already have a phd or something. So like having his civilian identity as a Wayne studying in college and maybe becoming a doctor or vet is cool. Or maybe he’d not be interested when he already has those skills and knowledge. Though I have seen some interesting discussions from some fans who don’t see the concept of him being a vet or surgeon cause they don’t think he’d like to see animals in pain ? Or seeing more blood and life loss as a civilian when he also sees that in the other parts of his life.

If they ever brought back him on stage acting or anything theatre related that would be fun. Sorry for the long ask I’m mostly just rambling

Yeah, realistically if Batfam characters retire most of hte time they just aren't going to show up. Which is a shame, b/c I Think there are some characters who could have/should have retired (namely JPV/Azrael, who is vocal about you know, not wanting to be Azrael all throughout no man's land and at various points in his solo) and dcould've worked really well as supporting characters (him being a supporting character to Cass would've been cool).

I am glad that main canon is recognizing Damian's medical skills again, they did give him surgery skills and just then forget to mention it again XD And yeah, as you say his family is full of physicians and surgeons, Thomas Wayne, Ra's al Ghul, Talia went to medical school, etc.... It'd be nice to see Talia being like "🥺 my baby's gonna be a dr..."

For Damian as an adult, I did like this (link) idea for a Damian identity. Tallant, after his elseworld self, kind of Talia adjacent.

Civilian identity wise as an adult I am partial to him kind of doing whatever he feels like, if he does not have a set job but just does art whenever, takes care of business stuff as necessary (remember he was doing that at like 10 years old XD) it leaves a lot of freedom for him continuing moving around the world like in Robin: Son of Batman, and opening up lots of story possibilities, but barring that I think a doctor or a surgeon would work.

I do not think the 'he can't be a surgeon because he doesn't like seeing people (or animals, if vet) in pain' thing holds up very well when like... yes, Damian does have a strong sense of empathy and want to help people but that never really stops him from acting? Like he throws up when he sees a bunch of kids dead bodies in streets of gotham, but he still goes undercover to get himself kidnapped and investigate and doesn't freak out when Colin (a kid he was trying to be protective of before he figured out he had super powers) fights Zsasz tho I guess he's bleeding some during this. And we see plenty of analysis of dead bodies on his part that don't upset him, especially if they're not kids he can be quite casual (to the point it offends Gordon). But generally while he's empathetic I'm not sure I see how that'd preclude him from being a surgeon or vet. If anything makes it unrealistic, it would be the long hours necessary for working as a surgeon and various superheroic duties necessitating a sudden departure - you can't really do that in the middle of surgery XD

The upside of surgeon/doctor civilian idea has over my initial proposal (rich world wandering dude who does art and business occasionally) is that it'd introduce a consistent supporting cast, presumably in coworkers. We may hopefully see this in PKJ's Batman and Robin (Just with Damian being a teenage volunteer obviously, not a surgeon, b/c regardless of how talented someone is I don't think a hospital would want the liability of having a teenager with no medical license perform surgery XD)

[crescentcampbell]

Wouldn't You Like to Know, Ch. 15

AO3 LINK HERE| WATTPAD LINK HERE

Fifteen

There were times where Penelope still felt like a seventeen-year-old girl. Her last years of high school had been particularly rough. First, because of her father stealing money, and then because of Eloise finding out about the Whistledown Blast account. Her senior year was also the same time Colin started acting, going on auditions, and met Marina.

She still remembered when he got his first movie with her. The two of them had gone out to a club to celebrate. Penelope wasn’t really a clubbing kind of girl, but they were teenagers in New York and it was the practically a staple of their social life at the time. “I don’t dance,” she remembered telling him for the millionth time in the back of an Uber.

“Oh, come on, Pen! You’re my oldest friend. I just got offered a part in a big, fucking movie. You’ve got to celebrate with me.”

Penelope winced. “People are going to stare.”

“Of course they’re going to stare,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her blush, “we’re hot.”

She laughed nervously. What was it about Colin Bridgerton that made her feel so unraveled? He was handsome and had the kind of smile that made you want to smile too, and had perfect hair. If she had been smart, she would have hated him. But the Bridgerton’s had that special shine of wealth and celebrity that made people want to be around them and want them to like them.

Penelope’s family had money, but not Bridgerton money. That didn’t even include Violet Bridgerton’s YouTube empire. The homemaker had become the modern Martha Stewart that everyone wanted to know every detail about the lives of the eight siblings and always had.

Daphne dating a prince had only escalated things this past year, and now, Colin was going to be in the movies. He had the whole future for.

They got into the club without even waiting, and when they were inside, Benedict Bridgerton was waiting for them in the VIP area with Eloise. “There you two are!” Eloise said. “Honestly, what took you so long?”

“Colin insisted on getting food,” said Penelope.

Colin grinned at his sister. “I can’t very well consume alcohol on an empty stomach, can I?”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “You just like watching girls lick their fingers after they eat.”

He smirked. “I’m a man with very particular tastes.”

Benedict snorted. “Brother, you are hardly a man. Although, you are going to be a movie star from what I’ve heard. You got the part?”

Colin nodded. “I’ll start filming this summer, but my agent says there’s some promotional stuff that they want me to do.”

“What, like fake dating your co-star?” Eloise joked.

Colin laughed. “Not a chance. I’m not that desperate for fame. I’m going to do this the honest way.”

“Through nepotism and Mommy’s fame?” his sister said.

Penelope laughed. “Come on. He has talent.”

Eloise rolled her eyes. “You always say that about him, because he’s your favorite Bridgerton. Even compared to me.”

Benedict shot a look over his shoulder at Penelope. “Oh Pen, I’m hurt. I thought I was your favorite.”

The redhead blushed, and Colin took her hand in his.

“Benedict, she likes me better. Always has, always will,” he said, “come on Pen, let’s go dance.”

He dragged her out onto the floor and Penelope was aware of how short the dress she’d put on was. It kept riding up as she moved. They got to the center of the dance floor where a fast song was playing. Colin came up behind her and placed his hands on either side of her hips. “I don’t know what I’m doing!” she shouted over the music.

Colin laughed. “I do!” he shouted back.

He gripped her hips and moved her from side to side against him. Penelope found herself getting more into it, swaying along side of him. She felt something hard, pressing against her backside, and she realized that it was Colin’s cock. Penelope kept on swaying, trying hard not to think about it. But then one of Colin’s hands was on her left breast, and the other was inching its way up the skirt of her dress.

One finger went inside of her, stroking her, and Penelope found herself holding onto Colin around his neck as she was unable to focus. She was lost in the feeling of him touching her in the most intimate of places, something she had never expected to have Colin Bridgerton of all people, do.

Colin Bridgerton was finger fucking her in the middle of a night club, and his cock was hard against her ass. Colin Bridgerton was desperate for her. “Penelope,” he murmured, his face close to her ear so she could hear him.

His fingers hit at exactly the right spot and he covered her mouth to keep anyone from hearing the little noises that she was making. When he pulled his hand out, he turned her around and looked at her, his gaze darkening.

Penelope’s heart pounded against her chest.

“Come on,” he said, “let’s go.”

They snuck out of the club, and neither one of them told Benedict or Eloise they had left.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

In the spirit of the spooky season, what Halloween traditions do Roy and Jamie have? Separately and later together 💜

They always go trick or treating with Phoebe of course!

Also be absolutely insane and Jamie leaps for slutty costumes. Keeley throws a party every year and the team goes all out.

But I wanna write about them married with a three year old who’s trick or treating for the first time!

(I don’t care if the uk doesn’t go as bonkers as the usa I refuse to google things!)

((Sorry this is a day late))

-

Roy fixes Carrie’s little cat hat. He knows she runs warm like Jamie but he can’t help but care. “Papa! Daddy! Candy soon!” Roy laughs and kisses her head. “Yeah baby. Candy soon.”

Jamie swirls behind Roy with a hand brushing over his back. “Okay bowl to leave out. Bag for Carrie costume for us. What am I missing.” Roy stands and picks up their daughter as he goes. “Photos.”

“Fuck! Photos!”

Carrie taps Roys face and leans in to whisper, “daddy said a bad word.” Roy snorts and nods. “You’re so right kitty cat. Daddy will put money in the jar.”

Jamie glares back at the two of them. “You two just want to see me go broke.” Roy grins. He reaches an arm out to bring Jamie closer. “No. Just want goo behavior.” He gently pinches Jamie’s ass when he says that. Jamie swats at his arm but leans closer to see the whiskers he drew on earlier. “You look cute Carrie. The perfect kitty.”

Carrie claps her hands and starts wiggling. “Candy! Candy! Candy!” Her to fathers laugh. “Yeah kiddo candy. But remember you’ve gotta hold our hands.” She grins up and then and leans her head forward for a kiss. “Kay papa.” Jamie grins at Roy. Their kid is incredible.

“Where’s your lightsaber Luke Skywalker.” Jamie jolts and springs back to the living room. “Daddy is silly.” Roy laughs and nods. “Yeah he is but we love him yeah?” “Yeah!”

Jamie comes back to his Han Solo, “ready fly boy?” Roy shakes his head at his husband but sets Carrie back on the ground. “Dani’s house then Colin’s right? Keeley said she’d meet us half way with Phoebe and Molly.” Carrie claps her hands at the mention of her aunts and cousin.

Jamie sets the candy out on the porch and smiles at the two of them. “Come on kiddo let’s go!” Carrie cheers and races toward him. She’s scooped up and put on his shoulders. Roy knows she probably won’t walk most of the night. Probably be carried the entire way until their friends houses.

Roy snorts at the fact they forgot photos. It’s fine they’ll take them with their family.

“Come on papa let’s go!!” Roy grins at the two. He can’t believe how cute they both are. It’ll be a good night.

[teiasviago]

hey I'm the previous anon!

I kinda logged off for a while but seeing your answer made me want to ask so really, I'd love to hear about it from a screenwriter pov.

hope you don't mind all these questions!

as per the hot takes of this season, how do you feel about them? so fa the ones I've seen are:

pen not deserving forgiveness and being the villain of the show

the queen and the ton being too easy on pen

colin needing to grovel more

eloise having to be kinder to cressida and have her become besties with penelope by saving cressida together

eloise and cressida having to be endgame and eloise being the queer bridgerton instead of francesca

benedict having to be w a man or w a crossdressing sophie because he's bi

and, what do you think of the choices made by the team this season?

what do you think of franchaela? was it a fun twist or should they have avoided giving francesca the gay storyline?

what about benedict? his gay storyline this season and why just this season?

why do you think the mondrich are so important? could it be (like some people speculate) because lord kent is gonna be hyacinths gareth?

how you feel about the very modern twist on makeup and style this season?

what do you think of penelope continuing as lw and using her name and potentially putting herself in danger?

I've tried to ask as much as possible but if there's anything else you want to elaborate on feel free!

I don’t mind the stack of questions at all! It’s very exciting to dissect it all and answer them. Honestly, I have a whole document dedicated to unpacking and debunking lots of the hot takes I’ve seen because it’s so annoying to see people type with their brains off. Like, no shame if you don’t think while watching stuff—lord knows I watch something for the first time without much in the way of higher thought happening. But I also recognize that and take the time to organize my thoughts before I speak on anything. (Although that might just be a bit of a coping mechanism I developed because of my anxiety disorder that serves a good purpose generally.) This post will also be spoilery because I reference events from the books a lot.

Pen doesn’t deserve forgiveness/Pen’s the real villain of the show/QC & the ton were too easy on her.

There is no “actual” villain of the show. It’s fucking Bridgerton, like, be honest! That claim just makes me laugh because it’s like... You can’t fool me. I know a lot of people who say that are just indulging their internalized fatphobia. And in the instances when they’re not, it’s still plain old misogyny. On the topic of forgiveness, I personally did not read what happened as anybody forgiving Pen for what she wrote in Whistledown. I think, just like when Colin said he would never court Pen, though he had a change of heart, he never did forgive her.

The people that matter to Pen—the Bridgertons and the Featheringtons, her family—accept what she did and understand that Pen recognizes that she was wrong, would do things differently if she could, and not only resolves to do better but already in season three has demonstrated that effort to do better numerous times. Pen never asked for forgiveness, she requested clemency from the queen.

She gave her speech in front of the ton because hiding that she’s Whistledown implied that some of her best qualities—her cleverness, her passion for writing, her humor—were things to be ashamed of. But they’re not and in embracing her full potential, Pen defied the misogynistic idea pervasive in the ton—which her mother repeats throughout the show but especially in season three—that all women are meant for is bearing children. No, women don’t just have to be mothers and gossips, they’re full human beings.

Pen continuing the column is a good outcome for the ton because they eat her writing up. I remember how, at the beginning of episode six, everyone’s upset that she hasn’t published! They love her writing so damn much. And as Genevieve explains to Alice in “How Bright the Moon,” they all “feed off the nouveau.” They love having new information to gossip about, and what is better than the reveal of who Lady Whistledown is? They probably talked about that reveal all the way through Pen’s maternity leave (or as they called it: confinement) until she published her next issue of Whistledown as Penelope Bridgerton.

Some people just hate to see a woman succeeding. “I don’t care that your spouse worships the ground you walk upon and that the job you love is very lucrative, that should’ve happened to me instead,” sorta attitude is what I’m getting from Pen’s haters, lol. Anyways, all that to get to the screenwriting part of this: Pen becomes Whistledown as an outlet for her frustrations with society. All of her mistakes are reflections of the terrible treatment she gets because she doesn’t fit the ton’s ideal. As Colin said, it makes sense that Whistledown would reflect, at times, the cruelty around Pen.

It’s part of the mirror motif of the season because Pen as a character is a mirror for society. She reflects people’s best and worst qualities. She wants to be more than a wife and mother like Eloise, she shares Colin’s loyalty and kindness (someone has to specifically do her dirty for her to not be kind to them), and she is also deeply critical of herself like her mother, sisters, mamas, and debutantes. She also amplifies all those qualities; for example, when she writes about Colin adopting his rake persona, she’s taking the cruelty of him declaring that he’d never court Pen and turning it back on him but with a megaphone.

I mean, I completely understand why (and I can’t remember where exactly I learned this but I think it was in a live interview she gave during season three promo but I could be wrong) Shonda Rhimes wanted to adapt the Bridgerton books because of Penelope. Obviously she saw something in the other aspects of the series, but Whistledown/Pen is a captivating way of conveying information and examining the ton. Putting Colin and Pen’s season before Benedict and Sophie’s (and, of course, all the other siblings) allows the writers to even more thoroughly use Whistledown to examine and criticize the ton, which will go hand in hand with Benedict marrying Sophie in spite of her being a bastard.

Colin needed to grovel more.

I completely understand where this idea comes from but at the same time... Please give it some actual thought if you believe this. 😭 Not knocking Kate and Anthony, as an oldest sibling I have no choice but to stan them, but it is greatly to Colin’s credit that he approaches Pen the the very first episode of the season with an apology. Anthony isn’t able to do that until the last episode of season two because he’s spent every day since Edmund died repressing his feelings in order to effectively carry out his duties as viscount.

Colin never had any of that sort of pressure and because he’s also significantly younger than both Anthony and Benedict, he’s one of what I call the “sibling-kids.” They’re Ant and Ben’s siblings, yes, but in many ways they are also Anthony and Benedict’s children. It’s kind of like a teen parent relationship with C through H. Anthony, Benedict, and Violet are very much the parents: Anthony nurtures their minds, Benedict nurtures their souls, and Violet nurtures their hearts. Anthony preaches logic (advising Colin to straight up tell Pen he loves her, going on a second honeymoon with Kate since the estate is in good hands and love is important), Benedict preaches freedom (encouraging El’s rebellious pursuits and trying Colin’s drug tea), and Violet preaches wisdom (advising her children to follow their hearts).

Kind of a tangent but as a screenwriter I greatly appreciate the careful construction of the interplaying relationships in this show. With all that, Colin has the benefit of having three advisors in his life and is able to be a very sensitive person, so he doesn’t completely freak out and not know how to approach the situation. Therefore, he doesn’t go overboard with the groveling, which would end up making it Pen’s responsibility to lift him up and set him straight. Instead, he calmly approaches Pen and offers a very thought out apology. The onus is entirely on him and earning Pen’s forgiveness requires no emotional labor on her part. (And this is forgiveness because Colin doesn’t stand by what he said, whereas Pen does, she simply regrets the way she said things.)

It’s such a beautiful scene when he apologizes, partly because it shows the true nature of their relationship: when Colin’s hero complex, his rake persona, Pen’s wallflower persona, and her Whistledown persona are set aside, they are complete equals. They are their truest selves around each other with no need for duplicity or grandstanding. Colin doesn’t need to grovel before Pen for her forgiveness because he takes a mature route where he says his piece and gives her the space to accept his apology or reject it. He truly listens to Pen when she speaks and, as proof of his regret and dedication to their friendship, he offers to help her catch a husband—something she obviously seeks to do but which he didn’t previously know about her.

Honestly, if Colin had just done a bunch of groveling, it would’ve been boring because it means we wouldn’t have the Colin who took Pen’s silence to mean that even the person who was most interested in his travels no longer found them—and therefore him—interesting or worthy of her time. Because he came to that conclusion, he changed everything about himself in the hopes that both Pen and the ton would like the new him better and would take him seriously. The ton certainly does but Pen, who matters more than anybody else, doesn’t.

Colin has always been the type of person who thinks before he acts. The times when he doesn’t are in opposition and that’s on purpose. When Marina seduces him into proposing and agreeing to run off to Gretna Green, she’s manipulating him by using his hero complex to override his thoughtful nature. But we see Colin in his natural state with Pen a lot in season two, especially “The Choice” when they have their conversations about purpose.

Colin and Penelope have also known each other since they were kids, which is why they’re able to be their truest selves around each other. It’s why Colin picks up on Pen’s melancholy and probes her on it, and it’s why Pen immediately understands that Colin isn’t simply growing up when he returns in season three but is putting on a persona. They bypass needing Colin to grovel over his comment in season two because they don’t need grand gestures between them to convey that they’re being earnest.

Eloise should’ve been kinder to Cressida and should’ve worked with Pen to get Cressida a better ending.

If Eloise actually developed the maturity to recognize that Cressida simply wanted to escape her unhappy and tragically doomed life and went about achieving that with unsavory efforts, El wouldn’t have much of a character arc left for her season. As for Pen, she doesn’t owe Cressida shit after all that bullying, and she still didn’t decide to be vengeful. She didn’t disparage Cressida in her column, despite very clearly wanting to. Cressida not getting an HEA serves the same purpose as the Mondriches having to sell their club: only Bridgertons get happy endings. We see this concept even more in Queen Charlotte where there are no Bridgertons and none of the main characters’ situations are happy endings. We know how Charlotte and George’s story turns out, Lady Danbury and Lord Ledger cannot be together, and Violet’s home life is a far cry from the abundance of love she nurtures amongst her children.

Creloise should be endgame and Eloise should be the queer Bridgerton instead of Francesca.

All this nonsense about “the queer Bridgerton” is annoying at this point and I’m so glad that I haven’t had to see it personally surrounding season three. Now, aside from Phillip already being in the show, Creloise was never going to be endgame because neither of them are mature enough for that. Eloise is too focused on how different she feels from everyone else and trying to reconcile that with the idea of everyone having interiority and not being automatically lesser for wanting to get married and have kids. Cressida is too focused on finding a solid marriage and then escaping society for good. Eloise may not like society, but she loves her family and could never leave them behind. However, I do very much read their friendship as queer and think it was probably on purpose that it read that way to us. It’s just that it could never work out in this universe. (There’s always Creloise fics on AO3, it’s fine.)

Frannie’s story is perfect for a sapphic romance, which I’ll talk more about later, and Benedict is obviously also queer, which I will also talk about later. Additionally, from season one, both Benedict and Eloise have been thought of as queer, so I honestly have no idea where people are getting this idea of El being the only queer Bridgerton from. As if we don’t have multiple!

Benedict needs to end up with a man/Sophie should cross dress.

Every person I see saying that Ben needed to end up with a man gets blocked. I don’t need that in my life, especially not when Benedict is representation for me. I don’t think Sophie needs to cross dress in season four because the show has already dedicated a lot of time to Benedict going to little parties and experimenting. Benedict meets Sophie as the Lady in Silver at the masquerade ball at the beginning of An Offer from a Gentleman, yes, but he meets Sophie the maid while he’s leaving a house party. I imagine that he’ll start off the season having a pretty grand time hooking up with people, embracing his sexuality, and then he’ll be hit with the Bridgerton lovesick-itis where he won’t be able to stop thinking about his Lady in Silver. Sophie doesn’t need to dress up as a man to incorporate Benedict’s queerness into the season; he’s queer regardless, and there are much more tasteful—and likely—ways we’ll see that in the show.

Is Franchaela a good change?

I’m so excited for Franchaela I don’t even know how to express it. Like, yes, Polin is my favorite ship and they’ll never be topped for me, but Franchaela is a very close second. I was on board with the gender swap from the get-go because after the first two seasons and Queen Charlotte, it was clear to me that the people making these shows know what they’re doing and aren’t in danger of fucking up the stories they’re telling (despite what some may think). But it was reading When He Was Wicked that I really got excited for Frannie’s season. It’s the perfect book to genderswap because Michael and Francesca spend most of the book dealing with their grief for John and their guilt for falling in love with each other; they perceive that as a slight against John. Using all that guilt in the book and adding in all the emotions that come with discovering that you’re queer—for Francesca, because I assume that Michaela already knows and embraces that about herself. In the book, Michael accepts his feelings for Frannie a lot earlier than she accepts her feelings for him, and I think that translates well into a sapphic version of the story—then Michaela has to deal with Frannie not accepting her queer feelings for her. It’s delicious and we’re not even there yet!

I will say, though, that I understand the worry some people have that the writers may be mishandling Fran and John’s relationship by having Fran immediately have feelings for Michaela and seemingly display some doubts when she kisses John at their wedding. Personally, I think it’s too early to go around decrying the way Fran, Michaela, and John’s story is going. I don’t think Fran and John’s dynamic will be ruined, I think it’s simply a matter of taste when it comes to the book. Francesca and Michael are at the park together in London when Frannie very suddenly starts to view Michael in a sexual light and she gets very flustered, which is obviously brought to the show. But I felt that it was very random and not constructed very well; there was no reason given as to why specifically at this point in their lives, at this moment, Francesca started to view Michael differently. I’ll be happy with how it turns out in the show as long as Francesca isn’t secretly pining for Michaela. I think it’s for the best if she’s immediately attracted to Michaela, so then it doesn’t feel sudden later, but that she doesn’t actually fall in love with Michaela until after John dies and we get to their season.

What is the point of the Mondriches?

I talked earlier about how the Mondriches serve as contrasts to the Bridgertons, where the leads get HEAs but no one else does. In season one, while Daphne and Simon have their issues within their relationship, they ultimately solve their issues without completely compromising their morals. Meanwhile, Will has to completely compromise his morals in order to provide for his family. In season two, Kate and Anthony are struggling to meet their expectations for themselves, just as Will is struggling with expectations vs reality for his club’s success. Where Kate and Anthony are able to step back, accept that they were going about everything wrong, and have their HEA together, it’s only through Colin’s kindness that the club is successful. Although, in both cases, those outcomes are dependent on spokespeople using their influence to rectify the situation: the queen for Kate and Anthony, and Colin for Will and Alice. In season three, while Colin and Penelope don’t have to give up their literary pursuits to have success as the parents of a titled son, Will and Alice have to give up the club.

How do you feel about the very modern twist on makeup and style this season?

I don’t mind it at all. Some of the costumes are irksome (mostly when it comes to minor characters) but for the most part I liked them or at least understood their purpose. I mean, Cressida and her mother’s looks were insane but it fits the fact that they’re trying really hard. I heard somewhere that it’s not so much trying to find the perfect look for Bridgerton but that each season purposefully has a different look that fits with the story being told through the lead romance. So for season three, they take a page out of Portia’s lookbook and the ton goes a little OTT—even Charlotte goes for it (I don’t think she should have but my opinion doesn’t much matter lol).

What do you think of Penelope continuing as LW and using her name, potentially putting herself in danger?

I went into the season expecting Pen to continue writing the column and that’s the outcome I wanted. In Romancing Mister Bridgerton, she simply retires it, but I think it means way too much in the show and also has too many uses as a screenwriter for her to stop writing it. But it’s important that she starts writing it using her real name instead of the moniker. She’s claiming her writings and not hiding from herself anymore. In terms of danger, I think people are very much going overboard. Firstly, nobody is in danger of being beheaded, because in Queen Charlotte, Charlotte melodramatically wishes that she could still behead people because a servant had her woken up in the middle of the night. Secondly, the worst punishment would be imprisonment, but this is Bridgerton, and the queen’s rivalry with Whistledown is a fun game of wits, not a game of “how fast can Charlotte unearth this treasonous snake?”

As for everyone else, they don’t have enough power to actually threaten Pen. She hasn’t written about anyone in a way that would make them want to put her in physical danger, just efforts to stain her reputation, which is why she offers Colin an annulment. What Pen doesn’t know—and what we do know, alongside Lady Danbury—is that the queen wasn’t just in a good mood when she went to the Butterfly Ball, she went with a plan. She wanted to display her power in front of everyone to keep the ton in line but also preserve her rivalry with Pen so that she has something to occupy her time with.

It’s Bridgerton. The romantic leads aren’t actually at risk of death.

I hope I answered all of your questions satisfactorily! I had so much fun dissecting everything!!!

[kalinara]

It’s interesting to me how many Nate-haters in the Ted Lasso fandom seem to also be big fans of Rebecca Welton, or “Tedbecca” as a ship.

Disclaimer: this is not an attack on either character or ship.  I like the idea of Tedbecca, and I love Rebecca as a character.  I am also not saying ALL Tedbecca/Rebecca fans hate Nate.  Many people actually have taste.  :-)

But it’s very interesting.

I had an old post reblogged recently by someone who just HAD to add tags about how they wanted Nate to be redeemed, but thought he shouldn’t be able to come back to Richmond afterward.  He’d done too much.

On that person’s tumblr was another post, of a gifset from the most recent episode, talking about how much they wanted to see Rebecca tear Nate a new one.

I am not, for one moment, trying to excuse what Nate did.  But there is no objective standard where Nate’s actions are worse than Rebecca Welton’s.

Rebecca spent an entire season trying to destroy Richmond.  She very nearly succeeded.  If Ted Lasso the show were just a hair more realistic, or Ted Lasso the character just a hair less magical, then Richmond the team wouldn’t have stayed together during their demotion.  The more talented players would have jumped ship to greener pastures.

That is, assuming they were recognized for their talents.  Rebecca’s sabotage was long-term, and it made the entire team a laughing-stock.  They have the advantage of performing very well during their Champion League year, but they still have the stigma of season one to get past.  She might well have done irreparable damage to more than one career.

The funny/sad thing about Rebecca’s plot this season is that her humiliation and fear of ridicule isn’t due to Rupert’s actions, but her own.  

Rebecca can’t even claim the moral high ground when it comes to Ted himself.  She was sympathetic to his panic attacks, sure.  But that was after she’d already been softened by half a season of sincere friendship, plus the emotional catharsis of her reunion/reconciliation with Sassy.  This is also the woman who tried very hard to get Keeley and Ted exposed for an affair that never existed, remember.  And she’d had no idea at the time that Ted and Michelle’s marriage was on the rocks anyway.  She could have destroyed his (and Keeley’s) life if she hadn’t belatedly realized it could be traced back to her.

And bullying?  Sure, Nate was a dick to Colin (who had been a dick to him first, remember?) but Rebecca spent a whole year making Leslie Higgins miserable.  Did she have a legitimate reason to be angry with him?  Sure.  But that’s when you fire someone.  You don’t spend a year torturing them.  

I am not saying this to attack Rebecca.  I’m just pointing out that if Nate’s actions caused enough harm that he can’t possibly return to Richmond (assuming he’d want to), then why isn’t that true for Rebecca, who has caused far more harm to far more people?  

I think maybe it might come from the idea that Ted forgiving Rebecca is a cornerstone moment of the ship, and that it’s somehow less impactful if Ted extends that same forgiveness to someone else.  

There are other, less generous interpretations, of course...

[stilespeters]

SALVATION (series)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

pairing: colin zabel x reader

words: 3047

A/N: i told myself i was gonna make the chapters shorter but its still somehow 3k🥲, anyway i hope its not boring. lmk what u think bc feedback is always appreciated. also, im still working on the requests, im having a bit of trouble atm with writing the smut but it’ll be alright. Should mosy likely be posted this week.

summary: after some drama at home, a detective saves your life. Later, an invitation is in your mail.

warnings: swearing, hallucinations

part 2: the invitation

“I’m home!” You yelled as you placed your bag next to the counter and you walked to the kitchen with your car keys where Zoe stood. She looked up from her phone and she smiled when she saw you. She waited for you to give her the car keys so she could drive herself to her internship.

“Did everything go alright?” she asked and you nodded as you leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, I got a new psychiatrist. His name is Rudy Vincent.” Zoe had a smug look on her face when she heard it was a male, and before you could protest, she already spoke.

“Is he cute?”

“He’s too old for you.” you retorted.

“I wasn't talking for me, I was talking for you.”

You gave her a knowing look and you raised your eyebrow at her, making her raise her hands up in defense.

“You’ve been single since what? The stone age?”

You huffed at that and crossed your arms. “Come on now, I’m 23. I’m not that old.”

Zoe rolled her eyes in a playful manner with a scoff. “Can’t believe that I, as a 17 year old, have more sexual experience than you, my 23 year old sister.”

“Zoe, that’s not… I don’t want to talk about this right now. I have 99 problems to think about and sex isn't one of them.” She chuckled, and this time you were the one who rolled your eyes.

“What about you? Seeing anyone interesting? A certain blonde maybe?”

She turned red and looked away and you gave her a smirk. You remembered a blonde boy that came by now and then and then Zoe would go with him. You never asked about it since you were always busy with something in the house, but now you were curious. “I thought he was the mailman first until I saw the letters KLG on his shirt. He’s a frat boy?” You scanned Zoe’s face and you couldn't help but laugh when you saw her biting her lip. “You like him.”

Zoe looked everywhere but your eyes, and you immediately knew the answer. Lately you had noticed that she was much more glowy. It was visible in her face but it was also noticeable in the way she acted. She was much more on her phone lately and she kept smiling behind her screen.

“And I think his school is close to your internship so that means you’ll get to see him even more.” You winked at her and she bit her lip while looking at her feet. “How do you even know him?”

“I met him at a frat party where Madison dragged me to a week ago.”

“Cute, you should show me a picture sometime, I haven't seen his face yet.” you respond. “Oh, and to answer your first question, Vincent seems nice but I’d like to just keep him as my psychiatrist. I have no interest in dating at the moment. For now I have my hands full with two teenagers,” you froze, your face turning into irritation. “Speaking of which, where is Violet?”

“She's upstairs, but Y/n… maybe it’s not the best idea if you-” but before she could finish her sentence, you had already moved to the stairs. You spun around to face Zoe one more time and she caught your car keys before you walked upstairs.

In the hallway you walked to the door on the right with a board that said “Do not disturb”, but you opened the door anyway and immediately stepped into a t- shirt on the ground.

When you looked up, you saw Violet with headphones next to the window with her head resting on her palms, and a cigarette between her fingers.

“Violet!” you tried but the music in her headphones were too loud for her to hear you. So you walked inside and stood next to her with your arms crossed and your eyebrow raised.

“Violet!” This time she looked up a you and placed the headphones around her neck. “What.”

“Don’t give me ‘what’” you sighed. “I got a call from school. You’ve been skipping classes, seriously Violet?”

“Skipping one class isn't gonna hurt me, Y/n.”

“This isn’t just one class, it’s four days. You’ve been skipping school for 4 days. Where the hell have you been? How do you even get cigarettes?” you eyed it in her hands with disgust.

She rolled her eyes and looked back outside. “You’re not my mother, I don't have to tell you,”

“No that's right, but as long as Cordelia is in France, you’re my responsibility. And as long as you're my responsibility you do as I say.” You closed your eyes while sighing and you rubbed your temples. “All I ask from you is to just go to school and not smoke in the house.”

She didn't seem fazed, and as a means to annoy you even more, she brought the cigarette back between her lips and made eye contact. That’s when you plucked it out of her mouth and threw it out of the window, and you could hear her protest as she watched it fall into the grass.

“You’re such a bitch.” she snarled and you rolled your eyes. “No smoking in the house, you're free to do whatever you want as long as you obey those rules.”

“Whatever.”

You sighed again, and you turned around to leave the room. You stopped however when you heard her mumble something.

“You're not even my real sister.” it was as quiet as a whisper but to you it was like a gunshot next to your ear. You slowly turned around and scanned her for any sort of hesitation on her face. All you could read was irritation that you threw her cigarette out of the window. You tried not to show her how hurt you were by her words, but your jaw clenched and your eyebrows were knitted together.

“You know what, I cannot deal with this right now, I’m gonna clear my head,” you sighed and turned around to leave the room. “We’ll talk about it later when I get back.”

When you walked downstairs, Zoe was still in the kitchen and she looked up at you once you walked over to her. You leaned against the counter.

“What am I gonna do with her.” you groaned and you covered your face with your hands. You had always been patient with Violet, especially since you saw so much of your younger self in her, but lately with everything going on, you felt like you were failing as a sister. Sisters were supposed to support each other and have fun with each other. They aren't supposed to disagree with everything and fight about everything. You hated that you kept acting like her mother, but in cases of skipping school, you had to.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you slowly looked up to see Zoe look at you with an understanding smile. “You're doing great, Y/n. Don't beat yourself up. She'll come around, I know she will.”

“Yeah,” you whispered and you looked outside into the garden. “I think I’m gonna go for some fresh air, maybe get some coffee. I need to clear my head.”

“Alright, I’m going to my internship,” she walked to the door but paused. “You’ve got mail by the way.” She pointed at the stack of posts on the table. “I’ll check them later.” You said and you walked over to the coatrack.

After you sat down at a table with coffee in your hands you couldn't stop thinking about what Violet said. It was like a knife to your chest, and you hated that you and her didn't have a bond as tight as it was before. Yes, you weren't her sister biologically, but you didn't care that you weren't blood related to the Goode family. Violet was still legally your sister whether she liked it or not.

And although you knew it was probably just her moody teenage self, it still hurt.

You loved her unconditionally and part of you felt like that love wasn't fully returned.

You bit the inside of your cheek and before you knew it, thoughts consumed you. Most of them were about you and violet. You didn't even realize that half an hour had passed.

That’s when you looked up, and came face to face with your worst nightmare.

Kai Anderson.

It was so sudden that your smile immediately disappeared. It felt like the air got sucked from your lungs, and your mind stopped working. As if the wheels in your head stopped spinning, and the world around you froze.

He was casually standing on the other side of the crosswalk with his hands in his pockets, a neutral expression on his face and his lips in a thin line. When you made eye contact, his lips curled upwards in somewhat of a mocking smile and you analyzed him cautiously. His blue hair was shoulder length as always, he wore a black jacket and black trousers, and he had a dark blue beanie on his head.

Even from a distance he looked menacing.

Your eyes narrowed at him, and your knuckles turned white as you squeezed your coffee cup. It was a wonder that you didn’t squish it, but luckily it didn’t since the coat you were wearing was Zoe’s. She’d kill you if you stained it since it was one of her favorites. One time when you stole her scarf for a day and stained it with cola, she didn’t talk to you for the rest of the day. Which is funny since she wasn't the most fond of fashion.

After a few seconds of recollection, your grip loosened on the cup and your mouth that hung slightly open, closed. You remembered what Vincent said.

“If you see him again, I want you to try and convince yourself that he isn’t real.”

So you closed your eyes, and let out a deep sigh while repeating the same sentence over and over again.

you are not real, you are not real, you are not real.

You were sure that if bystanders were to see you chant this, they would absolutely think you were batshit crazy, but you didn't care. They already thought you were. All you wanted was for this fucker to go away and rot in hell, not in your dreams or in your daily life. And if making yourself look like a fool was the solution to get him away, you would gladly do it.

After minutes passed, you sucked in one deep breath, and when you opened your eyes part of you expected for him to be gone.

Yet again, you were met with the same terrifying eyes of Kai.

Fear began to creep back in, and your muscles that loosened a while ago now tensed again. Why wasn’t he going away? Why was he still standing there like time hadn’t passed? How did he look so real?

Your eyes blinked rapidly, like there was something in your eye that wouldn’t go away. But no matter what you did, he just didn’t go away. He was like a fly in the room at night who kept zooming in your ear. Like, no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to swat it away, it just keeps zooming like a nuclear alarm. It was the most infuriating thing ever.

Suddenly you had the urge to kick him as hard as possible. You downed the last remaining bits of coffee down your throat, clenched your jaws shut together and your clammy hands turned into fists. Suddenly all the fear and confusion started to morph into anger.

It morphed into pure rage.

He had taken control over your life for 7 years.

He wasn't gonna take more.

So you did something that might be the smartest or dumbest thing you had ever done.

You stood up, threw 5 dollars out of your purse on the table for your coffee, and you started making your way to the other side of the crossroad. People around you didn’t notice the way you marched in one line straight to Kai, except for the people you pushed away. They glared.

But you didn't give a flying fuck. For years you had made yourself a victim, trying to ignore your problems until they eventually went away, only to recur again. But right now, you wanted to face your problem, in the hopes of finally overcoming your fear. In the hopes of finally being able to breathe without feeling paranoid. You finally decided to not cower or run away.

You almost reached the pedestrian cross, when you suddenly got pulled out of your thoughts as someone roughly pulled your coat, making you let out a yelp. Your body got tugged backwards just as a car screeched down the road, and you nearly tripped as your heel got stuck in front of the trottoir. Your eyes went wide as the car honked, and if it weren't for two hands holding you steady, you would've fallen down due to the momentum.

“It’s a pedestrian crossing, are you blind?!” A man shouted. He held your arms firmly, afraid that you’d fall if he didn't and his voice was filled with worry. “I got you.” His voice was gentle and you stared at his chest in shock. You didn't realize that your inner monologue made you not watch your surroundings. It almost got you run over. A few people who were now crossing the road, looked up at the two of you and you couldn't feel more embarrassed.

His eyes were still focused on the car that moved around the corner. Your eyes were still wide and your heart was rapidly beating as adrenaline flooded through your body. Your arms were clutched to your chest and your mouth hung slightly agape. You looked like a lost child who just lost their parents.

“Hey, are you okay?” You snapped back into reality and your head tilted to look at the man who saved your life. “Yeah.” You managed to get out in a voice crack and you gulped harshly. He gave you a soft smile and let go of your arms carefully. His hands went into his pockets and you scanned his face. He had dimples, dark brown eyes and dark brown hair.

“You saved my life, thank you.”

“It’s nothing. That asshole should’ve seen that it was a pedestrian crossing. There are children walking around here.” He looked at two kids eating ice cream a few meters away from you before looking back at me again.

“Are you okay, truly? Cause that must've been quite the scare. I hope I didn't grab your arm too harshly.”

“Yeah I’m fine, really. Thank you again for pulling me back. I owe you.”

There was a short silence and you both exchanged shy glances. You had never seen this man before, but he had somewhat of a familiar face. You swore you had seen him somewhere before but you couldn't quite place it from where you had seen him. It was probably just one of those faces that looked similar.

After you got out of your trance, you looked at the spot where Kai stood, and now he was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” you said as you stared at the empty spot, and the man raised his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you began and the man looked at the spot where you were previously staring at. “Never mind.”

You looked back at him and after a short glance, he raised his hand for you to shake. “I’m Colin by the way.”

His hands were big compared to yours. “Y/n.”

His smile faded and his eyes widened. “Holy shit, you’re the girl from the Anderson case,” he could faintly remember your features from the girl in the court video. You looked identical, only older.

You slowly nodded while kissing the back of your teeth and he immediately shook his head. “I’m sorry, you must be tired from hearing that all the time, I’m new to the area here for work.”

That’s when the wheels for you began to click. “Wait, you’re that one detective guy, the one who solved that one cold case and the one who solved that one case in Pennsylvania.”

“Yup.” he placed emphasis on the p and you smiled. Funny how you two both recognized each other.

“That’s really impressive, are you here for the recent killings?”

“Yeah, I was on my way to the station actually, you?”

“I was uhmm… just about to head home, I’m sorry for holding you up,” you referred to his previous answer. “Thanks for saving me, again I’m really grateful.”

“It’s alright.” He said and as you looked up at him, he was contemplating whether or not to continue the conversation, but before he could speak, you had already walked away.

He cursed himself for not talking to you more because he really felt something when he touched you. He knew it was silly, but as he watched you walk away, he felt kind of… drawn to you.

When you got home you had placed yourself on the couch with your mail at hand. Most of it wasn't that special. Bills, insurance, advertisements… You scanned through it all, until one envelope caught your attention.

It was sealed with red marking and on the center of the envelope was your name written in elegant calligraphy.

You carefully opened the envelope to not damage the paper, and when it opened, a card slid out of it. The paper felt thick and expensive, and when you read the words, you knitted your eyebrows together.

Dear Miss Goode, it has been a while since we last spoke. I hope you’re doing well in these times of despair, and I hope to get our status up as acquaintances after all these years. Thereby I am most delighted to invite you to the opening of the Hotel Cortez. Saturday at 8pm. You can bring a plus one if you’d like. It would be delightful if you were to attend.

JPM

[bilightningwhumper]

Mangst 2024- Day 3

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Picture Perfect (Rapunzel + Hansel and Gretel) Masterlist

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Summary:

Leslie learns more about her family Potential spoiler excerpt from "Picture Perfect"

Notes:

Colds are terrible and I've already got enough brain fog without them. Next chapters are going to be slow going while I get over it. I've managed to make notes for them, but making a narrative is a lot of effort at the moment Warnings for this one: panic attack, semi-mental breakdown, mentions of brainwashing by and trauma bonding for abuser Characters: Leslie- Rapunzel "Mama" (mentioned)- Mother Gothel/Sorceress/Witch

Leslie's POV

At least outside wasn’t as stuffy as her room. Leslie didn’t understand why she couldn’t leave like the others could. Well, Isaac had made good points, like the Institution taking her back. But Mama wouldn’t make her go back if she just knew. If Leslie could just make a call and explain, Mama would take her home. Then everything could go back to normal.

“Leslie?” The nice nurse, Crystal, was behind her with a strange woman. “There’s someone who’d like to talk to you.”

The woman approached as Crystal stepped aside. She gave Leslie a strange sort of smile as she put a hand on the chair opposite her.

“May I sit with you?” she asked.

Leslie tilted her head. The people here were odd, always asking for her permission to do things. But it could be a trick, so she nodded.

Pulling out the chair, the woman sat down, putting a thick file on the table between them. “My name is Rosemary Carroll. I’m an agent of the Felony Tracking Agency, ‘FTA’ for short. Do you know what that is?”

Leslie shook her head.

“We’re partnered with the Huntsman Legal group to find out more about you. Well, people like you. Trying to reconnect you with your family or soulmates. Other people who won’t take you back to the Institution.”

She perked up. “Did you call Mama? Is she here for me?”

Ms Carroll got a funny look on her face. “We didn’t find her, no. We found out something else, though.” Opening the folder, she took out a set of pictures and placed them in front of Leslie. “Can you look at these for me?”

She took the pictures, spreading them out and ordering them neatly in front of her. They all looked like pictures of the same family. A mother, a father, and a little girl. The little girl was blonde, different ages in the pictures. Ms Carroll didn’t tell her what to do with them really other than look, so she arranged them in how order of how old she thought the little girl was. Leslie could feel Ms Carroll watching her and her hands started shaking. Was she doing something wrong?

“You don’t remember, do you?”

Leslie looked up, confused. “Remember what?”

“This,” Ms Carroll held up a picture of the little girl on a bike, her father behind her, and her mother cheering behind them. “This is your family.”

That didn’t make any sense. “But that’s not Mama.” She pointed at the woman in the pictures. “Mama has black hair and she’s tall and skinny. This lady is blonde and short and pudgy.”

Ms Carroll sighed softly, pulling out more papers. “Do you remember how when you first arrived, they ran tests on you? One of them being a DNA test?”

She nodded. “They said it was to find Mama. Or my daddy. But Mama said he was a bad man who didn’t want me.”

“Well, we found this couple. These were the results of both your test and theirs, along with their missing daughter’s.” Ms Carroll passed her more papers that had charts and names on them.

She recognized her name and could read three others, all with the same last name: Anita, Colin, and Riley Shepard. The charts and numbers she didn’t understand. Leslie looked up at Ms Carroll.

“What is this?” she asked, laying down the papers on top of the pictures.

“Well, their parental matches are fifty percent matches to you.” Ms Carroll pointed at Anita and Colin’s results, both with a 50% next to them. “Typically, a one-hundred percent match for children to each other would be in the case of identical twins. But the Shepards only had one child, their daughter, who went missing when she was seven.” She pointed at Riley’s results, that had a 100% next to it.

Leslie stood up, ringing her hands. “Why does it say this? It’s wrong. Mama’s my family. She took me from the hospital herself. She always told that.”

“She wasn’t lying to you, Leslie.” Ms Carroll pulled out some more papers. “The case files from Riley’s disappearance talk about how she was sick, always in and out of the hospital. I talked with the Shepards and they confirmed this. Riley presented very early at age five. So her heats were very intense for her and hospital intervention was the only way to help. Right as the doctors found the right medication to balance her heats for her age, Riley disappeared.”

Foggy memories pulled at Leslie. Waking up in cold sweats. A cool hand on her forehead. Someone singing something to her. Mama never sang to her.

‘I’m your only family, baby bird. The only one who wanted you. Never forget that.’

“No.” Leslie shook her head., pacing back and forth “That’s not me. I’m sorry for that family, but it’s not me. Mama loves me. She’d never do something like that.”

“Do you remember any baby pictures? Any evidence she’d had you when you were a young child?”

“Mama didn’t keep any. Babies aren’t pretty. She only kept pictures that were pretty.” Leslie couldn’t breathe. Maybe she’d made her corset too tight. “Mama doesn’t like it when I’m not pretty.”

Ms Carroll pulled out something else from her pocket. A bulky looking thing that had a camera lens on it. She flipped out something on the side. “Listen to this for me?” Then she pushed a button.

“Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly…”

Leslie froze. She knew that. She knew…

‘I’m your only family, baby bird.’

“Lavender’s green. When I am king, dilly, dilly…”

“Stop it.”

‘The only one who wanted you.’

“You shall be queen. Who told you so, dilly, dilly…”

‘Never forget that.’

“I said stop it!”

Leslie knocked the thing out of Ms Carroll’s hands, shattering it on the ground. The music stopped and someone was crying. No, she was crying.

“Leslie…”

She ran. Away from the woman. Away from the pictures. She ignored anyone calling after her. Dodged any attempts to stop her.

Once she got back to her room, she locked the door, breathing hard. That stupid singing was still in her head. Why wouldn’t it go away?

Mama was her family. Mama loved her.

Mama…

Mama lied.

Breathing hard, she backed away from the door.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Makeup streaming down her face. Hair a mess. Dress rumpled and wrinkled.

‘Oh, baby bird, you look terrible. Let’s fix you up and make you pretty again.’

She sat in front of the vanity, picked up her make-up brushes, looked back up at the mirror.

‘You look beautiful like this. You don’t need any of it to be pretty.’

No, that was wrong. Mama made her pretty. Mama knew what made her look best. Mama made her the best.

‘You’re beautiful, Leslie. And funny. Smart. Don’t let her keep telling you otherwise.’

She shook her head, dropping the brushes, tugging at her hair. No, not that again. She’d been doing so well. Mama sent her to the Institution to forget about that. Mama loved her. The only one who truly did.

‘You’re mine, not his. Maybe I should help you remember that.’

There were scissors to the side of her. She remembered asking for some so she could make art again. Picking them up, she looked at herself in the mirror again.

‘You don’t need any of it to be pretty.’

It felt like someone else was controlling her hands. Like she was a puppet on strings. She watched as she pulled out hairpins, took up a chunk of hair, then-

Snip

Hair fell to the floor, some of it on her shoulder.

Snip

More hair gone. Her chest felt lighter, even as tears clouded her vision and her breath shuttered.

She kept cutting until her hair was just above her shoulders, varying lengths in most places. It looked awful, choppy, messy. Not at all what Mama would like.

Laughing to herself through tears, she got her make-up wipes and scrubbed her face. She probably used too many, being wasteful with what Crystal had given her. A glance in the mirror told her she was successful, though, getting all of the make-up off, face red and raw from crying.

Next was the clothing. Ripping, tearing, destroying the things Mama wanted her to wear. No more dresses. No more corsets. No more Mama’s pretty bird.

She was no one.

Nothing.

No one’s.

She pulled out some of the clothing from her nest. A shirt from Isaac. Pants she got from the clothing the center had supplied.

Burrowing into her nest, she pulled a blanket over her head. She didn’t know who she was anymore. But she had a pack. She belonged with them.

That much she knew.

That’s all she needed.

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Trying Something New: Chapter 2: The Healer and the Thief -- a Captain Swan, Once Upon a Time fanfiction

Summary: 

After Rumplestiltskin traps Emma and Killian in the past, they manage to escape him and realize they will have to live in the past in order to catch up to the future.

Read on fanfiction.net or AO3 or below.

Note: Remember that Emma and Killian have given themselves the aliases of Emily and Colin, and they told Marian that her name was Maria. So any POVs that aren't Killian or Emma with an exception or two, will call them Colin and Emily and Maria. I know it will be confusing for a bit, but that's partly why I chose names so close to their actual names, not just to help Emma and Killian remember but to help readers as well.

For my own sanity, Marian's POVs the narration still calls her Marian, but she will call herself Maria. 

Also, while I was writing the muse went wild and decided to bring in a character from a certain kingdom that I wasn't prepared for. 

And the muse decided Killian's new backstory, not me. I don't know why I let the muse out of the kennel, because she always goes wild. 

Hope you guys enjoy. 

Chapter 2: The Healer and the Thief

When they arrived in town, Killian led them to an inn further away from the docks where it wasn’t all that busy. The small inn looked quite cozy with its brick facade and warm light shining through the windows. 

He opened the door for Emma and Marian, allowing them to enter first. 

Emma was relieved to be inside where it was warm and where she was one step closer to a bed. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could’ve spent walking, even with Killian's support. She felt like a freight train hit her and she'd collapse at any moment. 

The late fall chill was settling in and soon enough winter would be coming. Emma hoped they’d be back home by then if she could get that stupid wand to actually work. 

“May I help you?” An older woman with a kind smile, but sharp brown eyes, looked at them from behind round glasses. 

“Yes, milady.” Killian stepped forward with a charming smile. “My wife,” he motioned to Emma, “our companion,” he motioned to Marian, “and I were all traveling on our way to your lovely town when our horses were stolen.”

The old woman’s eyes widened. “Oh my dears, I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

Killian played his part well as he asked her for two rooms; one for Marian and one for them. 

The older woman looked at Emma softly, clearly pleased that a young, newly married couple (according to Killian’s story) were planning on making Marawick Harbor their home. As Killian laid on the charm, Emma smiled small and shy, acting the part of the blushing bride. Honestly, she was too tired to try to speak and add to their act.  

Marian smiled as well, but with her memories gone, she wasn’t too confident in her interactions. 

“Of course, dear.” The old lady smiled a little bigger. “I’m Mrs. Wright. How long will you three be staying with us?”

“Well, we’ll be here for a while.” Killian said. “It might take some time to find more permanent lodgings.”

“Oh how wonderful.” Mrs. Wright smiled. “Since you don’t know how long you’ll stay, perhaps pay for five days and should you find more permanent lodgings before then, you’ll be reimbursed.”

“A lovely idea.” Killian said. “I’ll be paying for both rooms. Poor Maria here lost the most in the robbery. She helped us when we needed it, so it’s only fair to return the favor.”

Emma looked around as the prices were discussed and the room paid for; it was very clean and tidy, which gave her hopes for their room. It was then that Emma realized a flaw in the marriage plan. They’d be getting one room which very likely would have just one bed. Even if it was a big bed, it was still one bed. They’d slept near each other before, camping out in the Enchanted Forest and Neverland, but this would be different. They’d be in closer quarters for one thing. He’d probably be a gentleman and take the floor, but having slept in worse places, Emma didn’t want him to suffer a full five nights or longer if they couldn’t find a place to live. 

“Ready, my love?” Killian asked, turning to her. 

Marian was already following Mrs. Wright up the stairs. 

Emma smiled and took his arm again. Her heart skipped hearing the “my” before love, but she knew that it was just for show for the old lady. Of course, he had feelings for her, but he couldn’t love her so soon? Well, all right, they’d known each other for over a year and a half, but the better part of it they were separated and she hadn’t even remembered him. 

They were led to a room on the second floor, the lady unlocked one for Marian and then the one across the hall for them. One key went to Marian and the other to Killian. “A hot bath will be brought up shortly for both of you young ladies.”

Emma and Marian both thanked her. When Mrs. Wright disappeared, Emma stepped towards Marian. “I could heal your head if you’d like.” Really Emma felt obligated to since they caused her head injury, but she wasn't sure if she could stand to use more magic. 

Marian shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ve done so much for me already. Both of you. I don’t even know where to begin thanking you.”

“No need to worry about it.” Killian reassured her. 

Marian smiled before entering her own bedroom. 

“So what do we do now?” Emma asked once they were ensconced in the sanctuary of their private room. Emma unbuttoned her cape, glancing at the single bed at the center of the room. It looked to be about full sized. That would be close sleeping quarters. Emma draped her cape over the back of the armchair by the fire, which was low, but still burning. She ignored the singular bed for now, moving instead to sit in the armchair in front of the fireplace. It was a great relief to sit down. 

“Well, if we’ve learned anything on this adventure, we can’t mess with the main timeline.” Killian said, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. “So best thing to do is stay low. We’ll need to find work and a place to live since we don’t know how long we’ll be here. Marawick is a busy port, but it’s far from your parents and Regina.” He explained. “I can guarantee my crew only docked here in emergencies, and since we know my ship, should that happen, we can easily avoid that.” 

“Okay.” Emma nodded. “What job is low profile?” 

“What skills do you have?” Killian asked. 

“Well, I’m a former thief, waitress, bail bonds person, and sheriff.” Emma said. “I doubt the Enchanted Forest has many female law enforcement officers.”

“Well the military is the law.” Killian said. “But you’re not wrong. Female soldiers are unheard of. I’m not sure about waitresses, but a barmaid might be too risky, especially if someone we knew or my past self showed up.”

Emma could agree with that. In her time, bar brawls were a constant, so she expected taverns in this day and age would be full of fights that would draw way too much attention. “So that leaves me with nothing.” 

“We’ll figure it out, Swan.” Killian reassured her. “We just have to stick together.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile. “I’d like that.”

His heart stuttered a bit in surprise before he smiled shyly at her.

Emma’s own heart skipped a beat. They were interrupted by a knock on the door. 

Hurrying over to the door, Killian opened it to find maids with the bath. Once it was settled and they were given towels, rags, and soap, the women asked if anything else was needed. 

“No, thank you.” Emma smiled, allowing Killian to usher the maids away.

Killian set up the privacy screen. “I can leave if you’d like.” 

“The privacy screen is enough.” Emma said, walking behind it. She saw Killian’s silhouette through it due to the firelight behind him. She watched him sit in the armchair, which had its back to Emma. As she took off her clothes, hanging them up, she realized that they didn’t have clothes for bed. With how much magic she used today, she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to use it anymore. “What about you?” Emma asked, making conversation to distract herself from that line of thought.

“I can live without one.” Killian said. He took a seat in another armchair and closed his eyes. It had been quite an exhausting couple of days. 

“Why don’t you use the bath after me? I’ll be quick so the water will be warm.” Emma suggested as she soaped herself up. 

“Don’t worry about me, love.” Killian said. “Also, soap in this time isn’t used in hair. You’ll have to use hair oil. Over there on the vanity.” 

Emma glanced over towards the vanity where there were a few bottles of oil, a hairbrush, a comb, a hand mirror, and other items sat ready for use. “Killian, we can both take a bath. We both need it.”

Killian wasn’t too sure about that. Then he looked over at the bed. The lone bed. That was an easy enough fix. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

A huff of frustration left Emma over the subject change. Why was he being so stubborn? “We’re adults, Jones. We can responsibly share a bed.”

He sighed, sensing that they’d only end up arguing more about it if he didn’t concede. Maybe she’d fall asleep first and he could sneak onto the floor. It probably wouldn’t effect her as much as it would him for them to share a bed together anyway. “Fine.”

Emma knew the conversation wasn't over and he was still going to fight her on this, but Emma was tired enough to take whatever victories she could get. Sinking into the warm, steaming water, Emma bit back a moan of pleasure. It wouldn’t do to make sex sounds in mixed company, particularly company she knew would enjoy hearing those sounds. Despite the warm water, thinking about sex and Killian in the same go sent a thrill down her spine. Stop it, Emma. Come on, you can’t think about this. When you get back home and things settle down, then you and Killian can have a long talk. 

Emma continued to lather herself up, trying to dismiss the man from her thoughts, despite him being only feet away. 

Killian stared into the fire, desperately trying to block out the sounds of water splashing behind him. The last thing he needed was picturing Emma naked and wet. Shaking his head, he thought about the next steps that needed to be taken. They needed more clothes. Emma couldn’t keep conjuring things or transforming items. She was hiding it, but he could tell that her magic was draining her. Perhaps in the morning, they could go to a tailor and order some clothes. He’d also have to give some money to Marian as she was as much his responsibility now as Emma, even if he felt Emma was his priority above all else. 

He walked over to where he left his coat and took it back to the armchair. Going through his pockets, he emptied everything out onto a small circular table beside the armchair just to double check how much he had after paying for the rooms in advance. A handful of gold and silver coins, which would last them awhile. Various jewelry pieces with diamonds, sapphires, rubies, emeralds, and opals. Those would fetch a good price. He’d probably use up the coin they had while job and house hunting and save the jewelry for emergencies. He returned everything to his pockets and realized the room was silent. He looked over at the privacy screen. “Emma?” 

There was no answer. 

“Emma?” He called again. When there was still no answer, Killian hesitated, but he had a feeling she’d fallen asleep. Carefully, he peaked around the screen, trying not to see anything he shouldn’t. As he looked, he saw Emma was asleep, her head bent back over the tub rim, hair cascading out. Knowing how tired she was, he was loathed to wake her, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to get her out of bath without her consent. He walked over, kneeling next to the tub. Reaching out his hand, he gently shook her exposed shoulder with his hand. “Emma, love, wake up.”

It took a few more shakes and calling her name for her eyes to flutter open. “Killian?” 

“You fell asleep in the tub.” Killian explained. He stepped away and grabbed a towel as Emma moved to sit up. He held it out for her, diverting his eyes. 

Emma sleepily stood up in the tub and took the towel from Killian, shakily wrapping it around her body. She swayed a bit as the fog of sleep refused to clear. Damn, her magic took more out of her than she thought.

Realizing that Emma was still tired, Killian held his hand and fake hand out to her. “Here, love.”

Emma took his hand and allowed him to hook his arm around her to help her out of the tub. “Thanks.” As she steadied herself, she looked up at him. “We don’t have sleeping clothes.”

And she was too tired to conjure any. Killian understood her meaning. “Go ahead and dry off. You can sleep in my shirt.”

Emma nodded and walked over to the bed. 

Killian quickly unbuttoned his vest and hung it up, before pulling off his shirt. He walked over to find Emma sitting on the bed, wrapped in her towel. “Here you are.” He set the shirt beside her and turned away. 

Quickly Emma shrugged on the shirt over the towel. She stood up, straightening the shirt, and dropping the towel to the floor. She pulled back the covers and fell into the bed, letting sleep claim her once more. 

Killian turned after a few minutes and saw Emma passed out, the covers haphazardly over her. His brows drew together with concern. He shouldn’t have pushed her to use her magic so much when she wasn’t used to it. Walking over to her, Killian properly tucked her in before taking his own bath. The water was lukewarm, but that was fine. At least he’d get clean. Once he was done, he took a throw blanket and the other pillow and made a pallet on the floor. It wasn’t comfortable, but he’d slept on worse. Finally letting the days catch up to him, Killian let his exhaustion take over and he soon fell asleep. 

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

After her bath, Marian realized since they were robbed, she had no other clothes. She dried off and decided to sleep in her tunic and undergarments. There was no money on her, so she wasn’t going to be able to buy much of anything without a job. 

Colin had been too kind to pay for her room for the week; he and Emily both did so much for her that she felt she could never repay them. 

Still, her lack of memory didn’t sit well with her. Her head ached, but it dull now. Colin and Emily looked so surprised at her amnesia that Marian doubted they were involved. They’d been so kind she doubted there was anything nefarious motivating them to help her. 

But why could’t she remember anything? Even her own name eluded her until Colin told her it was Maria. Her name didn’t feel quite right, but if that’s the name they knew, surely it had to be her name? Who was Maria though? Where was she from? Why had she been on her way to Marawick Harbor? Did she have family here? Or had she left family behind her?

It was all so confusing and overwhelming. 

Dressing for bed, Marian tried hard to think of anything. What was her mother’s name? Her father’s? Did she have any siblings? Aunts? Uncles?

Nothing came to her. Her mind filled with absolute nothingness.

She fell into bed, her dull ache pounding as her mind fought to uncover its secrets. 

Tears filled her eyes as a deep sense of pain and loneliness overcame her. No one knew who she was, not really, and she had no memory of those who knew her. Colin and Emily, kind as they were, were strangers. Even they admitted they’d only just met her on their travels; likely they’d known her for a day or two at most. 

Why had she been traveling alone before? Perhaps she was independent and stubborn. Had she decided to go out on her own? Had she left a home behind to forge a new path?

Her pillow muffled her sobs as Marian allowed the emotions of the day to possess her. 

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

He was up before the sun, still feeling exhaustion in his bones. Pushing himself up, Killian looked up at the bed from his position on the floor, finding Emma still asleep. Good, she deserved rest after everything that she’d been through. Unfortunately, that also meant that he couldn’t get his shirt back just yet. He hoped to get some things done this morning, but he didn’t want to wake her. Perhaps he could don his vest and coat, but that would get him some strange stares. It wasn't cold enough to have his coat fully buttoned up. No, he’d just have to wait until Emma awoke. 

Killian rose from the floor and stretched away the soreness from the past few days and sleeping on the floor. After a good stretch, he went over to where the water pitcher was and poured a glass. Leaning against the dresser, he watched Emma sleep while he drank the water. Sometime in the middle of the night, she moved to the middle of the bed, her arm stretched out over one side. Her face was relaxed in sleep, not peaceful, but at least open and unguarded. It was a nice sight to see. One day, he hoped to see her unguarded in her conscience state as well. 

He wondered if Marian was doing all right. Before they headed out into town, he’d need to give her some money to buy herself some things. While they had to look out for Marian, Killian wished he could keep his focus on Emma. Even though Marian had no memories, surely some things from her life still stuck with her, but Emma was completely new to this world and he had to help her learn. It would be hard to help her with Marian around and not raise Marian’s suspicions. 

When he finished his water, he perused the room for something to do. There were a few books, but nothing piqued his interest, so he chose to sit in the armchair. Once Emma was awake, they’d dress and get Marian and then get some breakfast. Then they’d get clothes and much needed items. After that, permanent lodgings would be a priority. Jobs would be another matter. Since this was a port town, perhaps he could be a fisherman or find some job on the docks. Those were the ones he was best qualified for. For Emma, that would be a little harder. Marian was another story altogether. 

They agreed a barmaid was too risky for Emma. There weren’t truly any jobs that her bail bonds or sheriff skills would be of use. It truly was unfortunate how limited jobs for women were in the Enchanted Forest. There had to be something that Emma could do. Though they wouldn’t know what jobs were even available until they ventured out in the town.

He watched the sun rise through the window of the inn, lost in thought as his mind turned to ways to return to their future. Rumplestiltskin wasn’t a viable option, but Killian didn’t know much of other sorcerers or witches around who could help. They still had the wand, of course, but Emma hadn’t gotten it to work. He wasn’t sure if Rumplestiltskin had been lying or not, but if he’d been telling the truth and Emma’s magic was back, then why hadn’t it worked? What was keeping them here?

As the morning sun rose higher, Killian's attention returned to Emma. Concerned that she wasn't waking, he walked over to the bed, sitting at her side. Gently, Killian brushed a few errant locks away from her face. "Emma?" 

No response. She was breathing; her chest rising and falling steadily. 

That was a relief, but Killian wondered if her magic use had unintended consequences. "Emma, love, can you wake up for me?" 

Not even a groan or grumble left her. She was warm to the touch, but not feverish. She was sleeping, just not waking. 

There was a knock on their room door.

Killian silently cursed. Clearly her magic exhausted her, but it wasn't something he could explain to the maids. Not if they wanted to keep her magic secret. "Who is it?"

"It's Maria." Marian called through the door. 

Killian waked over to the door and opened it, pulling her inside, before shutting the door. 

Marian registered that he was shirtless and tensed up. "Now just wait a minute, you cannot just manhandle..."

"I know, I'm sorry." Killian said, cutting her off. "Emily isn't waking up." He headed back towards the bed, not sure what to do. 

"What do you mean she's not waking up?" Marian followed him, concerned. 

"I think she used too much magic." It was the only thing Killian could think of for Emma's state. "She's not use to using it so much."

Guilt settled in Marian's gut. Hadn't she pushed Emily to use her magic? "What can I do to help?"

Killian brushed his hand against Emma's cheek. He figured she'd be all right for now if she was just sleeping off the ill effects, though Killian worried about just how long Emma would stay like this. "For now, I don't think there's anything we can do." He turned to Marian. "I need to go around town and get some things done. Since we didn't have sleeping clothes, Emily borrowed my shirt. Can you help me change her into her undergarments?" 

Marian nodded, walking over to the vanity where Killian folded up Emma's clothes the night before. 

Killian leaned over Emma and whispered. "Forgive me love. I'll be on my best behavior." His joke fell flat even for him. 

When Marian brought Emma's undergarments and tunic over, they worked together to undress her and redress her, Killian keeping his touch as light and noninvasive as possible without causing suspicion. After all, he was meant to be Emma's husband. This wasn't supposed to be the first time he ever saw her fully unclothed. With Marian's help though, it was a quick process. 

"Could you stay here with her?" Killian asked Marian. "I know it's a lot to ask..."

"Not at all." Marian said. "You've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

Killian nodded gratefully. He pulled on his shirt and began to fully dress for the day. "I don't know if a healer can help her, but I look around for one. I have other things to do, but I'll come check in when I can. If there are any changes, send someone for me." He ensured all of his coins and jewels were on him. Once he was ready, Killian couldn't help himself, he went back to Emma and kissed her forehead. "I'll be back, Swan." He whispered. "I promise you'll be all right." 

He turned to Marian. "Take care of her." 

"I will." Marian said, not sure exactly what she else she could do.

Killian left the room with a determined stride. He needed to find a healer, but not just any healer. He needed one who understood or had magic. Could he find one here? 

Mrs. Wright might know where to start. 

He headed down to the front desk. 

"Good morning, Mr. Jones." Mrs. Wright greeted. Then she saw his grim expression. "Is everything all right?"

"My wife seems to have fallen ill." Killian said. "Do you know where I can find a healer?"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Wright said. "There's a woman who lives near the docks. Vivienne Wilder. I'm not one to fall ill myself, but others say her touch is like magic."

Magic. That intrigued him. "Thank you, Mrs. Wright."

Now, he needed to find out if it was like magic or actual magic. 

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

“Oh leave me alone.” An old man growled at the young woman standing before him. His scowl deepened the wrinkles on his pale face. One milky blue eye didn’t see ahead of him, while the other glared at Vivienne Wilder, the resident healer of the Wharf.

Vivienne, who looked in her twenties, sported long black hair in a tight bun. Sepia skin stood out underneath her pale yellow top, and her brown corset and skirts were plain. Sharp dark eyes rested under an arched brow. “Mr. Holbrook, I need to check your ankle.”

“Grandpa.” A young red-haired girl of about ten poked the older man in the shoulder. “Let Miss Vivienne take a look. Grandma says it’s been bothering you.”

“I don’t need no healer.” Mr. Holbrook huffed. “Me ankle is just fine.”

His granddaughter shook her head and spoke to the healer. “Grandma says he’s been limping for days now. Thinks he pulled something.”

“You hush now, Eileen.” Mr. Holbrook admonished. “I can move around just fine.”

“Mr. Holbrook, are you in pain or is your ankle just causing discomfort?” Vivienne asked, deciding to ignore his cantankerousness. 

Holbrook huffed. “It’s just fine I tell you.”

Vivienne shook her head. “Fine. If it’s causing true pain I suggest drinking a cup of ginger tea in the morning and at night.” She handed a vial of oil to Eileen. “Also, rub rosemary oil along the ankle every night and wrap it in a cold compress.” 

“How much for the oil?” Eileen asked.

Vivienne smiled. “No charge this time, but if he’s still having problems, let me know.”

“I ain’t having problems.” Holbrook grumbled. 

Vivienne shook her head and walked away. Mr. Holbrook would come around; he was just old and stubborn. She needed to see to other patients. While she'd lived in Marawick Harbor for just over a year, it took time to earn trust and build up her reputation. 

It wasn’t the first time she had to start over and she doubted it would be the last. There were times she missed home, of course, but going back wasn’t an option. 

As Vivienne turned up an alley, an old woman caught her eye. Wrap in a cloak of black, with silver hair framing her ancient features. 

The Crone’s grey eyes pierced Vivienne in place.

Vivienne curtsied. “Well met, Wise One.” 

“Well met, daughter.” The Crone said. “Lir’s son returns. He has the Light with him.” The Crone was never one to beat around the bush. 

Vivienne’s heart stopped for a long moment. “The older one or the younger one?” 

The Crone grinned showing crooked, yellowed teeth. “The younger one.”

“And he has a Savior with him?” Vivienne scoffed. She remembered him well. Always trailing after her and his brother. Unlike his brother, Lir’s younger son inherited the sea’s tempestuous nature. Leap first, think never. 

“Not just any Savior.” The Crone said. “The Savior. The one to finish what your father began.” 

Disbelief was a rather paltry term for what Vivienne felt in that moment. “The Savior?” It took a moment longer to compose herself. That’s why the Crone was here. “You need something of me?”

“The Savior is untrained. Reckless with her magic.” The Crone said. Her ancient eyes looked Vivienne up and down. “You’ll have to do.” 

“Me?” It didn’t take long for her to understand. “Me? You want me to train the Savior in the craft?” 

“It isn’t as though your father is available.” The Crone lamented. 

Of course, she’d prefer it if he was. Vivienne thought bitterly. Her father was The Sorcerer after all. “What of Lir’s son?” 

“He remembers nothing.” The Crone shrugged. “That is for the best. He’d be much more dangerous if he did.” The old woman stepped forward, looking Vivienne straight in the eye. “Train the Savior, and you will be rewarded.” Then she disappeared in a swirl of mist. 

“Fuck.” Vivienne cursed. The last person she wanted to deal with was Killian Jones. 

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

His eyes searched the market for a new mark. Sure, he got proper work once in a while being a lamplighter or a courier ever so often, but Dodger couldn’t let his skills get rusty. 

Any thief worth their salt kept perfecting their art. 

A new face to market caught Dodger’s attention. Average looking fellow, with a thick beard. His clothes were rather nice. A determined stride told Dodger the man was on a mission, which meant he’d be too focused on his goal to pay much attention. 

Dodger used the alleys to get ahead of the man. It looked as though the man was headed in the direction of the docks, so Dodger hurried along in between buildings, coming out near the end of the market, closer to the Wharf end. 

He was now in front of his mark, watching the man walk through patrons with ease. Dodger pretended to be looking at stalls as he made his way towards his mark. Passing by closely, Dodger’s feather light touch fished a few coins out of the man’s pocket. 

Smirking at his success, Dodger didn’t expect a hand on his arm, jerking him back. 

Fierce blue eyes glared at him. “I’ll have my coins back, if you please.” 

His mark marked him. Great. Okay, time to play the innocent victim. 

“I beg your pardon, sir.” Dodger’s offended act was instinct. Even as he looked at the man, sensing danger, he thought maybe he could keep it up. After all, how dangerous could this posh bloke be? "Whatever do you mean?"

The man rolled his eyes. “I don’t have times for games. Hand over the coins and I won’t alert the authorities.” He held out his hand expectantly. 

Dodger stepped back to put distance between them. “Good sir, I’ve no idea what you’re talking about." He needed to convince this man that he was wrong; if he left now, the man would alert the soldiers, and Dodger hadn't gotten caught in Marawick yet, but he didn't have the means to leave the city. 

The man smirked and Dodger's blood ran cold. Calculating anger filled blue eyes. Dodger swallowed. You sure know how to pick 'em, Dodge. 

"Perhaps you didn't hear me clearly." The man stepped closer, hand grabbing Dodger's arm in a vice grip. "I've no time to mess about. Give me my coins, and I won't gut you like a codfish and leave you here for the vultures to pick apart."

Something in the man's eyes made Dodger believe his threats. Unassuming as the man was when Dodger marked him, this man was far from unassuming now. Dodger debated for a moment longer; run or give in. Though he doubt he'd be running from this man for long. He handed the coins over. 

"Thank you," The man grinned tightly before walking off. 

Dodger watched him go, an intense curiosity filling him. Just who was that man?

Don't do it, Dodge. He told himself. Leave it be.

Ah hell, he was the Artful Dodger. When did he ever leave well enough alone?

Dodger kept to the shadows as he followed the man into the Wharf. 

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

Emma woke up in a meadow of pink flowers. The sun shone through the canopy of trees, birds chirped, but the world felt as though it was covered in haze. 

"Killian?" Emma called out. Where was he? Where was the inn? She remembered being in the bath and then briefly Killian helping her out. 

She was fairly certain that she fell asleep in a bed. "Killian?" She slowly stood up, looking around at her surroundings. 

"He isn't here." A man spoke, appearing out of nowhere. 

Emma stepped back. "Who the hell are you?"

The man appeared young, in his late twenties or early thirties, it was hard to tell. He was dressed in a thick, brocade shirt, underneath a brown leather tunic vest, and brown pants. His dark brown eyes felt ancient as they looked her over. "I'm Merlin." He said simply.

Emma stared him down as she processed that. "Bullshit."

Merlin grinned. "You're parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, you've met the Evil Queen, Rumplestiltskin, Peter Pan, and your lover is Captain Hook, but Merlin existing is a stretch?"

"Hook isn't my..." Emma shook her head. "Never mind. So what, Camelot and Excalibur are real too?"

"Indeed they are." Merlin smirked knowingly. "But they are also concerns for another time. Right now, I'm more concerned about your appearance here."

"Where is here?" Emma asked. 

"The Astral Realm." Merlin said. "A plane of existence in between living and dead." He motioned to the meadow around them. "This is the Middlemist Meadow of Camelot. I used to tutor my students here. It's a place I find calming. You see, I'm in between life and death myself, trapped for eternity. This is my piece of home." Merlin focused on Emma. "It worries me that the Savior is here."

"I'm not dying, am I?" Emma asked, fear gripping at her heart. She didn't want to die without seeing her family or Killian again. 

"Depends on how you came to be here." Merlin said. "What happened, Miss Swan?"

"Uh, well, it's a long story." Emma said. 

Merlin smiled patiently, a paternal air about him. It made Emma wonder just how old he truly was. "I have plenty of time." He sat down amongst the flowers and beckoned Emma to join him. 

Warily, Emma joined him, uncertain about whether or not to trust him. Even so, she briefly explained her plight leaving out some details here and there she didn't deem necessary, but explaining about the time travel and her overuse of magic. 

"Ah, so you've been training under the Evil Queen." Merlin said. 

Emma hadn't mentioned that. "How did you know that?" Her eyes narrowed as she leaned away from him.

"The Astral Realm transcends realms." Merlin said. "I can be anywhere, any time, and watch anyone."

"Creepy." Emma huffed. 

Merlin shrugged. "It's useful. I've seen Storybrooke and I'm aware that Regina and the Dark One are the only two people you could learn magic from. Considering your magic is the antithesis to the Dark One, he certainly would never teach you. That leaves Regina, and she isn't one to actually sit you down and explain things."

"You're right about that." Emma said. "So what is happening to me?"

"You're fine." Merlin said. "You're in Healing Sleep."

"What is Healing Sleep?" Emma asked. 

"Magic drains the system." Merlin began. "Regina uses magic all the time, so she's built up a tolerance to the drain. More than that, she also isn't very powerful and limited on how much magic she can expend, so even if she felt the drain, it wouldn't cause total exhaustion. There are certain beings, demigods, products of True Love such as yourself, elves, true sorcerers, who have so much power that it's harder to control. You aren't limited on how much magic you can use like Regina is, which means you can overdraw your power. Thus causing Magical Fatigue. Healing Sleep happens when you over use your magic to the point your body forces you to rest in order to refill your magical reserves."

Disbelief overcame her. "Wait, I have unlimited magic?" 

"No, you have a higher limit of how much magic you can use." Merlin explained patiently. "True Love is the most powerful magic of all, but you don't have the same benefits of other species, who have power. You're still a mortal, you still bleed, and you will fatigue. Even after training and building up your tolerance, you would still need to watch how much magic you call upon." 

"Okay, well, I'm stuck in the past for the next four years," Emma sighed. "I'll need to learn this stuff. I just need to wake up first."

"Fate already has a teacher in mind." Merlin smiled. "You'll meet her soon. As for waking up, well, depending on your body's recovery time and how much magic you used, you could be asleep for days, or weeks, or..."

"Don't finish that sentence." Emma glared. "If you're some great sorcerer, why can't you teach me?"

"I'm indisposed at the moment." Merlin said. "You can only meet me in the Astral Realm, but it's dangerous to spend too much time here if you're a novice. It likes to play tricks sometimes, which means if you aren't careful to spot them, your soul could move on into the Afterlife."

Definitely want to avoid that. Emma thought. "Is there a way to speed up this sleep?"

Merlin's infernal knowing grin returned. "You'll learn in due time. Until then, rest and enjoy the Middlemist." 

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

Marian ate only a little of the soup the maid brought up for her and Emily. She told the maid that Emily was just sleeping off her illness, and she hoped she was right. Emily was still breathing, and she was warm. Nothing seemed amiss other than Emily would not wake. 

Marian attempted to wake her for lunch, but the blonde woman didn't react. Not a mumble from her lips, not a flutter of her eyes. 

She worried that Emily might not ever wake up. Colin was convinced that her magic had something to do with this, and he would know better being Emily's husband. Marian wondered if this was common. She wasn't surprised by magic existing, though her memories were gone, so surely magic was commonplace.

Why then did Colin and Emily want to hide Emily's magic? Was magic good to have, or was it dark? Colin and Emily didn't seem like bad people, and Emily's magic seemed so helpful.

Could she really trust these strangers after all? Or was it better to move on, and try to rebuild her life on her own? Her gut said Colin and Emily didn't mean any harm, but they also didn't know her. Should she try and find out who she was? Should she ask them if she mentioned where she was from and why she was moving here?

It was just strange that everything was gone. Even her dreams were hazy images, but nothing indicating her past. 

Marian sighed, pushing away her half eaten soup. She glanced where Emily lay, sleeping peacefully, wishing she could sleep just as well. "Why can't I remember?" She whispered to the silence around her. She looked at her hands. There were callouses, light as they were, so she was used to work off some sort. 

But what work? Did she do cleaning? Was she a barmaid? A seamstress? That was just another thing to figure out. Once Colin returned and she knew Emily was going to be all right, Marian needed to go into town and figure out just what to do next. She couldn't rely on them forever. It was time to figure out what little she could and go from there. 

Starting with a job. 

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

Killian waited outside a boarding house, where he was told the healer currently was checking on a patient. He hoped this Vivienne could help him. He figured someone with magic would be better, but perhaps the healer knew someone who could help with their situation. 

He just wanted Emma to be all right. He couldn't let anything happen to her, not when he promised to get her home. Not when he needed her safe and happy for his own sanity. 

A young woman with black hair exited the building, a basket of herbs, potions, and poultices in hand. 

Killian pushed off the wall of the house across the street and put himself in her path. "Excuse me, Miss?" 

The healer froze at his voice before turning to face him. Oddly, her dark eyes recognized him. 

An uneasy feeling settled over him. Had Emma unintentional glamoured the face of someone from around here? He doubted it. 

The woman glared at him. “How can I help you sir?” Her defensive stance had Killian backing up a bit.

He wasn't sure why she didn't like him, but he wasn't going to chance pissing her off more than she already was, not when he needed her help. “So sorry to bother you.” Killian smiled gently. “My name is Colin Jones. My wife and I recently moved to town.”

Surprise flickered over her expression. Vivienne relaxed a bit, realizing Killian truly didn't seem to remember her. Though she was confused about the wife part. The Savior couldn't be his wife, could she? That was a dangerous match if that was the case. As it was, the Savior needed to work on her glamour spell. It worked well for non-magical people, but if Vivienne could see through it, then so could the Dark One, or others a might more powerful. This close to the sea, it would be better to disguise Lir's son as strongly as possible. "And why am I interested in this information?"

"I heard you're the healer in town. My wife fell ill on our travels." Killian said. "I hoped you'd come look at her. She's not waking up."

His concern for the Savior was genuine. What did he mean by her not waking up? 

Vivienne wanted to tell him no and go back to her rounds, but the Crone wanted her to teach the Savior. It seemed that for the time being Killian and the Savior were a package deal. Vivienne would deal with that later. "Does she have a fever?"

Killian shook his head. "No, she's warm, but not feverish." Killian glanced around and slowly stepped closer, careful not to crowd her. "What do you know about magic?"

"Enough." Vivienne challenged. There was no way she'd give away her hand. Not to him. "Why?"

"Because my wife has magic." Killian spoke lowly as to not be overheard. "I think she used too much of it." He looked at her imploringly. 

Here's where Killian not having his memories hampered him. He'd been one of her father's best students, all the more why Vivienne disliked him, and now he had to come to her for basic magical knowledge. She'd feel smug if she didn't hate him so much. 

Alas, she had to teach the Savior, so she'd have to suffer Jones all over again. "All right, take me to her and I shall see what I can do."

His immense relief was palpable. "Thank you, miss."

"Vivienne." She introduced. "Vivienne Wilder."

[goatsorcery]

after re-watching, i actually really like both episodes. i still feel like the pacing in the last episode is a bit off, and things feel rushed towards the end, but overall, i liked it.

guillermo’s decision makes sense; he never wanted to be a vampire to be a vampire, he wanted to be one so he could feel power, sexy, and like he belonged, and he didn’t get those things when he became a vampire. but, this season has really driven home how much all the vampires care about him, and other seasons have solidified that guillermo is powerful due to his van helsing lineage — all he needs is to feel attractive, and that's something he needs to figure out for himself

while there isn't a direct cliffhanger, the finale still hangs on a few questions: was this the right decision? and what will guillermo do now?

this season has solidified that guillermo is part of the family and that they all care about him, i doubt that he would just leave, but what’s the driving force that will make him stay? the vampires all care about him, that's fact, but will they show it? will they just fall back into old habits of how to treat guillermo?

everyone’s story-lines from the season are wrapped up with no continuation; nadja’s curse is broken, laszlo’s experiments are obviously done, the guide feels apart of the group, and… now as i'm writing this, what was nandor’s goal for the season? his focus seemed to be on other characters, but his only goal(s) really was to find a friend (failed with alexander) and, i guess, to impress guillermo?? if so, nandor has also achieved his goal, by fully acknowledging guillermo as his friend and impressing him (or at least impressing me) with nandor’s elaborate plan to allow guillermo to truly decide what he wants

there are a few story-lines and plot threads that haven't gotten a conclusion:

colin robinson starting to remember (in dreams at the moment) that he died, was ‘reborn’, and raised by laszlo

laszlo seems to have a secret that's weighing on him. i still don’t buy that laszlo was in a daze for weeks just thinking how to organize his books, and, in the finale, he was about to tell guillermo something he’d never told anyone. both could just be throwaways for the bit, but i'm not convinced.

nandor’s overuse of hypnosis which is commented on in multiple episodes and then never mentioned again

i feel like i could write a hundred posts about my thoughts, and i just might

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 32

Sequel to Unsolicited

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, car sex, Lloyd being the worst, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Lloyd Hansen is a storm. You can’t stop him, you can only brace yourself for the eventual rain of his presence. For the time being, he is calm and you will let it last as long as you can. But you will keep the windows boarded and the doors shut tight.

His bruises are a pale tint of yellow though he was just as reluctant to leave the bed. You are not more eager to be awake and on your feet but you know you must. You find it harder by the day to stay active but if you slow down, the pain will catch up to you. 

So you follow him, after ten minutes of internal turmoil, strapping on your pregnancy belt over a tee and some leggings. Your usual attire as it’s the only thing that fits or offers a degree of comfort for your growing body. You smell cinnamon as you descend, leaning on the banister heavily as you take careful steps, barely able to see your feet past your stomach.

You follow your nose to the kitchen and find Lloyd in a whirlwind, but not his usual tempest. He flips a pancake in the skillet as he looks over his shoulder, a crooked grin under his mustache. He still hasn’t shaved. Is it a new look or neglect? The stubble is getting pretty long.

He wears an apron over his briefs. Nothing else. Not very safe but you don’t mind if he gets a spatter of hot oil. You almost wish you could throw some on him yourself.

“I made decaf,” he announces proudly, “and I have blueberry syrup for you, baby cakes.”

“Blueberry syrup?” You squint as you near the counter, brushing a hand over the curve of your stomach.

“That was a you thing, wasn’t it?”

“A me thing? What are we talking about?”

He uses the spatula to remove the pancakes from the pan and puts them onto a plate, covering them to keep them warm. He sets down the utensil and moves easily to pull down a mug and fills it from the carafe.

“You had some in the crappy old fridge back at the hellhole,” he shrugs, “hidden behind the ketchup.”

You bite the inside of your lip and tilt your head. How did he know that? Besides, why would he even remember that? An overpriced bottle of organic syrup that had Colin halfway down your throat.

“I guess,” you answer nonchalantly, “I don’t mind it.”

“Hm, sure,” he seems disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm, “icing sugar too, if you like.”

“I’ll just have the pancakes,” you accept the mug as he slides it over to you, “thanks.”

He faces you, watching you as you watch him. Your eyelids slit as you warily sip your coffee. His blue irises sparkle menacingly.

“Stop,” he says, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You utter dully.

“Like I put poison in the decaf.”

You pause and pull the cup away from your lips. You give it a long look. Now that you think of it…

“I didn’t,” he huffs, “I can be nice. I’m being nice. Baby,” he puts his hands on his hips, “you gotta let go of old grudges. Once the kiddo is here, we can’t be fighting like cats and dogs. We’re going to be too tired.”

“We’re?” You scoff and carry your cup past him, “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“What?”

“You. Doing anything for anyone else. That has no benefit to you.”

“I’m making you breakfast–”

“You’re getting on my good side so I don’t try to sleep on the lawn again,” you roll your eyes, “and so I don’t smack you every time you touch my ass.”

“Peaches, you’ll see, I’m taking this serious. I’m gonna dad so hard–”

“Mmhmm,” you wave him off without looking back, “and I’m gonna go water the tulips.”

“Tulips? What about breakfast?” He whines.

“It won’t take too long,” you dismiss him, “it’s nice out and I’ll forget.”

He exhales heavily, “since when do you garden?”

“There’s a lot more to me than the contents of my fridge, Lloyd,” you toss back at him as you approach the back door, “some of us have dimension.”

“What? I have–”

You don’t hear his argument. He’s about as dimensional as those pancakes. Flat. Just a mustache that talks too much. Even if he uses that mustache to your advantage. You know him. He pretends to be complicated but he’s really rather simple. Maybe his complexity is that he’s simple in more ways than one.

You balance your coffee tenuously as you go down the back steps. You near the corner of the house and unwind the long house from around the plastic wheel. Harlen installed it while he was there. You take the head with the trigger and tug it around the east wall with one hand. Your progress is slow as you try not to spill the decaf.

You stand before your little plot of blooming stems and aim the hose, pushing down as you sprinkle water over the dirt. You should do some weeding but it’s getting harder and harder to get down that low. Even before you were this big, your back could make bending, squatting, or kneeling a task.

You turn the hose head back and forth, sending an even shower across the patch. Content, you let go of the trigger and gulp back more coffee. You’re going to miss the peace you found in the garden now Lloyd is back. You were ready to let it go for the baby, but you really weren’t prepared to do so this soon.

Footsteps hit the pavement on the other side of the gate and you peek over. You narrow your eyes. You should get those checked. You recognise the figure on the other side as he stops and waves.

You let the hose hang off the iron rooster ornament sticking out of the soil and waddle to the path. You follow it down to meet Andy at the iron grate. You’re slightly confused but don’t mind wasting time.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Just out for a run,” he says, cheeks slightly tinged pink as he catches his breath, “I saw you out here and figured I’d ask.”

“Ask?”

“You know, I got some of Lori’s things still, thought maybe you might want some. I’ve been meaning to do something with them but I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Lori? Your wife?” You’re slightly taken aback. You’re not really in the market for a dead woman’s earrings.

“It’s only taking up space. I’d be happy to know they went to a good home.”

“Mm, I don’t know, there’s not much I need…” you shrug but notice the way he stares, expectant, hopeful. It might not be about the stuff, maybe just about the company. You can’t say you aren’t lacking for that as well. “Well, I guess I could have a look through, see if there’s anything I’m missing.”

“Great, I can bring a box over later,” he offers, “tonight or tomorrow, if you’re not busy.”

“I…” you glance back at the house, “we’ll have to see.”

“Yeah, you must be busy,” he wipes his glistening forehead, “getting ready for the baby. Well, you know where I am. You can always come knock on my door.”

“Thanks, Andy, that’s… very nice of you.”

You force a smile. You never really were a neighbourly person. Mostly, you’ve lived next to people even more miserable than yourself. Those who can only afford shitholes don’t typically tend to be optimistic.

“So, you didn’t say if it’s a boy or a girl. Do you know?” He prompts.

“Uh, oh,” you look down at your stomach, “a girl.”

“Wow, I always wanted a girl. Jacob was a good kid but… maybe he wouldn’t have gotten in so much trouble if he had a sibling or two.” His cheek tightens and he turns his head slightly, “Lori couldn’t, you know? She just had him. Her body just couldn’t handle any more than that.”

“I’m sorry, Andy–”

“I told you, don’t be,” he shakes his head, meeting your eyes, “I should be sorry. I try not to talk about them but I can’t help it.”

“You have every right to talk about them. We can’t help who we miss,” you assure him, “hell, sometimes I miss my ex-husband.”

“Ex? Lloyd’s–”

“Number two,” you sigh, “yeah.”

“Hmm, interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s not really the type to settle for being the second choice.”

You nod. He’s right but he also has no idea about how fucked Lloyd really is.

“It’s complicated,” you say, “anyway,” you look into your nearly empty cup, “I think I should go back before breakfast gets cold.”

“Sure thing, neighbour,” he grins and for a moment, you hesitate. Beneath his thick beard, there’s an odd reminder in the cut of his jaw, you’re reminded of Lloyd’s overgrown stubble, “you need any help with that garden, let me know. I’ve got a bit of a green thumb.”

“Will do,” you say as you raise your mug awkwardly and turn on your heel, “see ya.”

You set off back towards the house. The door is open as your husband stands watching you. Even from a distance, you sense his impatience. It’s in his posture and his steady gaze. You can’t handle an argument over cold pancakes. Not with only decaf to bolster you.