#a fallen neverland

[kkglinka]

Finally twigged what rwby (+small animal companion) are walking through the field of red plants toward the red prince's castle reminded me of. It's the scene from wizard of oz where Dorothy et all are passing through the field of red flowers (poppies?) toward the wizard's city.

[arc-digital-art]

Been seeing snippets of @alice-angel12x's Neverland AU on youtube and suddenly needed to draw Tinkerbell Wally more than I needed air

[orangeflowerpetals]

He’s a 10 but really wants to eat free range humans

[raccoonscribbles]

Fallen for Hook’s Girl

Peter Pan x Reader; Yandere Character | Hook x ((adopted)) Daughter Reader

Season Spoiler; Has to do nothing with anything in the show except characters, and Wendy being in a cage

Warnings; Yandere, Lying, Acting, Rum(reader does not drink it), Hook being ‘fatherly’, Hook drunk, Pan crying, Wendy, you don’t love Peter yet

italics are flashbacks

Other; Long ((for me lol)) and written out of a dumb spark of imagination that became this abomination, second part?? Maybe if it gets famous or I really want to continue, it’s kind of fever Dream ish. I POSTED THIS ON THE WRONG BLOG, I JUST NOTICED, I posted it like a week ago too. Also, this terrifies me, I don’t know if I should post it.

Hook ended up back on Neverland, with a young girl. Pan was always intrigued by her.

“Y/n, you’re going to be a little spy, and get us Pan’s heart,” Hook said, he was drunk, everyone was, except her, “Rum?”

“I’m alright, drink some water,” she said, “I’ll be in bed.”

“Goodnight, love,” He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her head.

He thought of her as a daughter, he always had. Milah was the reason she ever was able to stay with him. So she was their daughter, to him.

“Wake up,” Hook said, Y/n opened her eyes.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to find camp, alright? The lost boys, when you do, you find Pan and sob and cry like I kicked you off the ship. Capture his heart, and you come back to me,” he smiled, “With his heart, you’ll get everything you want. You’ll get to be a princess.”

“That’s it? Simple..” she sat up.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Hook hugged her.

“I love you, papa,” she laughed, “now, I gotta go.”

Hook knew she was a good actor, she tricked anyone, that was something he adored about her.

•

Y/n found the camp, no one there, but logs and an unlit bonfire.

“Hello,” Pan appeared, “You’re Hook’s girl, yes?”

Y/n turned to face him, “Not anymore,” she grumbled, trying to ‘not cry.’

“What?” Pan was confused, he had seen there bond, inseparable, he believed her.

“He.. he..” she whimpered, tears now falling.

“Hey, it’s okay, follow me,” he said, she did, grabbing his hand.

“Oh.”

“I can let go, I just-“

“No, it’s okay,” it was so obvious he liked her.

He was vulnerable, she was curious as to why.

Felix and Pan sat together, Pan trying not to cry and crumble in front of his second. He was sure Wendy loved him, and then she shattered his heart and he locked her away in the cage. He cried as he told Felix, who was there to comfort. And that was merely an hour ago. Pam trying to heal his heartbreak.

He healed it by falling in love with her, so fast. She did not understand but it happened.

“This is my cabin, come in,” he brought her inside, she sat on the couch, still crying.

He was not going to let her leave, that was for sure. The door shut by itself.

“Do you want cocoa?” He questioned, it was cold in Neverland, being it was early in the morning.

“Please,” she whined, he brought her a mug, she took it with shaky hands.

“Let me get you a blanket, love,” Pan kissed her head, she smiled slightly, still crying.

He came back, wrapping it around her, holding her.

“Why’d Hook leave you?” He asked, she leaned into him.

“He..” she started sobbing again.

“It’s okay, it’s okay..” Pan said, “Don’t cry, please, it hurts me.”

He wiped her tears with his thumbs, she sighed.

[lunarbuck]

Anything/Everything

a/n: this is literally incoherent rambling... sorry. this is mostly just coming from the fact that i feel very lost rn so sorry in advance for that

not beta'd and barely edited, any and all mistakes are my own

bucky barnes & f!reader (any race) have a conversation on a fire escape

no warnings apply

my masterlist  | @lunarbucklibrary

The air is crisp and cold as you climb out the window and onto the fire escape. The metal railing is cool against your palms, grounding you to the moment. There’s too much smog in the city to see any stars other than the North Star. 

Tonight, just like every night, you make a wish. You wish for things to be different, for someone to come sweep you off your feet and take you to Neverland. To take you away from all of this. And tonight, just like every night, you know that won’t happen. That doesn’t keep you from wishing, though. From gazing up at that bright ball of light in the smoky sky and wishing with all your might, for someone. Anyone, to come save you.

Your fire escape is small, but there’s enough room for a little picnic chair, which you settle into after making your wish. The sounds of the city echo and muddle together into a familiar symphony, the background to your nightly ruminating. 

There’s just enough light coming from your bedroom window to journal by, and though summer is fading to fall, you can bear the cooler temperatures for long enough to do tonight’s entry. You pop the cap off your pen, flip to an open page and jot down the date. 

Just as you start writing your entry, you hear the familiar sound of boots on the fire escape below you. You don’t need to peek down to know who it is. Well, technically, you don’t know his name, but you know his face. Those piercing blue eyes, that dimpled chin. 

He moved in last month but no one in the building knows his name. He’s like a ghost. But you’ve come to think of him as your ghost, since every night, he comes out just like you do. You’ve come up with your own story of him, that he’s wishing on the stars just like you are. That he’s just as lost, just as confused, as you are. 

You return your focus to your journal, scratching out your thoughts as they pour out of your head. You’re so focused that you miss the ghost from downstairs walking up toward you. You miss him taking a seat a few steps away from the top. You miss the way his familiar blue eyes trace your features, committing them to memory, and the small smile that graces his lips for just a moment.

“What do you wish for?” He asks, his voice cutting through the night. You jolt. The timbre of his voice makes you shiver, it sends electricity sparking through every nerve in your body.

All you can do is stare at the ghostly man in front of you.

“What do you wish for,” he asks again, this time more gently. 

“Anything,” you whisper.

“What do you write about?” You tip your head from the man up to the sky.

“Everything.” Silence falls between the two of you before you take a deep breath, returning your gaze to the man. “How did you know I was making wishes?” A whisper of a grin that disappears as quickly as it came crosses his lips.

“Because I’m making wishes too.” If this was anyone else, you’d make a joke, break the fierce tension that’s fallen in the space between you and the ghost. But you can’t help but feel like he can see right through you, right down to your soul.

Now, it’s your turn to ask, “What do you wish for?”

His eyes trace your face leaving a burning trail in their wake. “Someone.”

You slide off your chair, letting the chill of metal seep through your pajama pants. The ghost stays put.

“Who?” His blue eyes shift to your surroundings, the sky, eventually settling on the moon.

“I’m not sure anymore.” This moment, so full of vulnerability, makes your throat tighten. “I lost him a long time ago, I think. I guess I just thought he’d come back. He always came back.” The ghost in front of you looks more human with every passing second.

His dark hair, clipped close on the sides, is ruffled like he can’t stop running his fingers through it. His shirt is wrinkled and has signs of loose threads at the seams from years of wear and work. His eyes crinkle in the corners, frown lines litter his forehead. 

“I hope your wish comes true,” you reply, meaning it. The ghost shakes his head.

“It won’t, but thank you.” 

“So why do you keep wishing if you know it won’t come true?”

“Just in case.”

Just in case. 

“My wishes never come true,” you confess. “But I can’t stop myself from coming out here anyways, I can’t help but feel the pull.” The ghost nods his understanding.

“Just in case.”

“Just in case.” Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment, you feel the world stop spinning. You feel time freeze. Everything slows, blurs, disappears, until it is just you and him.

“Who are you?” He whispers, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know anymore,” you reply. “Who are you?” You barely even hear the words as they leave your lips.

“I’m trying to remember.”

I am discontinuing my taglist. please follow @lunarbucklibrary and turn on notifications to be notified when I post new fics.

[thecreditsroll]

Remember what they took from you

If we got a proper season 2 and 3 Mujika/Emma would be canon im sure of it

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 124

Part 1 Part 123

“Should I get a job?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t want a job, is the thing, but there’s a large expanse of nothingness stretching out in front of him that needs filled. And his wallet’s been looking thin around the edges lately.

Steve hums. He’s fussing with his hair, even though the dorky little sailor hat’s going to undue all his efforts. The whole outfit’s a little dorky, honestly. Eddie loves it.

“Do you want a job?” Steve asks.

Eddie groans, sinking further into the bed. His sweatpants bunch uncomfortably around his ankles, so he kicks out his legs trying to get them to roll back down with friction from the sheets. “No,” he replies, unsurprised when it comes out whiney, like he’s a petulant child denied a sweet in the candy aisle. He feels like a petulant child, not ready to grow up and leave Neverland.

Leaning into the tantrum, Eddie pouts his lip out and looks up at Steve through his lashes. Apparently giving it up as a bad job, Steve drops his hands from his hair to shuffle over to the foot of the bed. He pulls the hems of Eddie’s pants down, fingers lingering against his ankles before dropping them.

Like some sort of angel fallen from above, Steve kneels on the bed and crawls up it, perfect face getting closer, closer, closer. Eddie puckers his lips, anticipation crawling up his throat, but Steve bypasses his mouth entirely to plant one on his forehead.

“Then don’t get a job,” he says, lips caressing Eddie’s skin. He pulls back, smiling down at Eddie. “I can support the both of us.”

Eddie’s heart flutters. It’s embarrassing, really, how gone he is. He presses his hand to his forehead in the pose of feinting wives everywhere and replies, “you’re such a big strong man.”

Moment sufficiently over, Steve shoves his shoulders hard enough that Eddie bounces a little against the mattress and rolls back off the bed. He bends down to get to their sock drawer, and Eddie tilts his head to enjoy the show.

The socks Steve pulls out our ridiculously long and hideous enough to match his whole get-up. Even when working with the bottom of the barrel, Steve Harrington’s still always on theme.

“That can’t really be your uniform,” Eddie says, grinning as Steve pulls both socks fully on and turns around to glare down at Eddie’s supine form.

“Well, it is,” Steve says, crossing his arms, like that’ll cover up anything. But then his fingers stretch out over his ribs and clutch, and it all starts to look more like a hug.

“Hey,” Eddie says, finally shuffling up and out of the bed. He stands in front of Steve, pries his hands free, and clasps them both in his own. He squeezes both, then starts rubbing his thumb against each palm the way Steve likes, trying to get Steve to meet his eyes. When he finally does, Eddie asks, “you nervous?”

Steve’s eyes slip away, but he nods because they took a silent honesty pact way back when they’d been sucked into the Upside-Down that first night. “A little,” he says, mouth twisting in on itself as he thinks. “My coworker doesn’t seem to like me much.”

Eddie scoffs, ruffling Steve’s hair until a quick tussle breaks out as he tries to protect his precious hairdo. “Then she doesn’t know you,” Eddie says, holding Steve in an unwieldy headlock that doesn’t have enough stability to last. 

Steve twists and pulls free, immediately bowling Eddie over so he lands awkwardly on the bed. But he’s smiling now, victorious over his win, so it’s all worth it. Reaching with all his might, he boops Steve’s nose until it scrunches.

“You’ll do great.”

Like those are the magic words he was waiting for, Steve’s shoulders ease, and he gets through the rest of his morning routine with that same energy.

It stays with him until he’s walking through the front door, and Eddie calls, “should I start selling drugs again?”

Steve’s shoulders stiffen and he turns, already halfway outside to point at Eddie like he’s a misbehaving dog, saying, “no,” in the sternest voice he’s ever heard.

Eddie’s laughter rings through the trailer as Steve slams the front door, starts the van and drives off to his first day at his new job.

Eddie whiles away the morning, biting his nails because somehow Steve’s anxiety has transferred over to him. Even if it’s not a job, he’ll have to find something to do, lest he start to feel like a dog waiting for its master to come home.

When the lunch hour rolls around, he steals Wayne’s keys, leaves a note, and on a whim, calls up the Byers’ abode.

As a lucky turn of fate, Will’s the one that picks up with a quiet, “Byers’ residence.”

“Baby Byers!” Eddie cries, throwing Wayne’s keys up and down in the air. “Are you going to still be at home in say, ten minutes?”

Eddie fails to catch them on his third toss, and the clatter noisily to the linoleum of the kitchen floor. “Yeah, wh—”

“Great!” Eddie cuts in, bending down to pick up the keys from the ground. “See you then!”

He slams the phone down on Will’s stuttered protests and rushes out the door before Wayne can wake up and put a stop to his thievery.

He blasts music on the way to the Byers’ house, turning it down just a tick as he pulls into their driveway because while he may not care about the general denizens of Hawkins, he’s got a soft spot for the ones that live here. God forbid he wake Mama Byers up from an afternoon nap.

With that in mind, his knocks are rapid-fire, but not all that loud. They still summon Will to the door within five seconds flat. He’s dressed, but shoeless, and clearly grumpy with Eddie if the frown is anything to go by.

“Put your shoes on, baby Byers, we’ve got places to be.” Just to be annoying about it, Eddie pulls on the string connecting them repeatedly as Will bends down to slip on his shoes without untying them.

It’s not long before they’re shuffling out of the house and on the road.

“Now will you tell me where we’re going?” Will asks, turning the volume down even further, on Slayer, as if that’s not some sort of sin in and of itself.

Still, Eddie loves the kid, so he tells him, “Steve started his new job today, and we’re gonna go say hi!”

Eddie slides his eyes off the road to see how that one lands. Will’s looking at him with an unimpressed expression he had to have picked up from Steve. “Does he know that?”

Eddie laughs nervously and starts tapping his fingers against the steering wheel along with the barely-audible eat eeking out of Wayne’s dusty old speakers.

“Malls have food courts, right?” Eddie asks, blowing past Will’s question entirely. “Maybe we can all have lunch!”

Will scoffs, and that one he got from both of them. Eddie’s almost proud of how snotty it sounds. But Will settles down, ready to go along with Eddie’s hairbrained scheme.

The parking lot’s already filling up by the time they pull in because Hawkins is full of a bunch of townies with nothing better to do. He pulls in right alongside them, and skips inside, Will nipping more sedately at his heels.

The place is big enough that there’s a map, smack dab at the entryway. Eddie brushes past the people loitering in front of it so he and Will can squint at it, trailing fingers and eyes until they find it, a bit of blue writing delineating an even tinier dot as an ice cream parlor. Of course, because this is Hawkins and nothing ever goes Eddie’s way, it’s on the entirely opposite side of the mall than the one he parked at. Will and Eddie spend countless minutes of their lives pushing through gawking crowds and unattended children until they finally reach their destination.

The sign out front is a tacky font on top of an even tackier turquoise, a shittily drawn anchor tying the whole thing together. The checkered tiles, and white tables damn near glisten in the fluorescent lights. Eddie barely notices any of it, because there’s two sailors arguing at the cash register. Eddie’s sailor’s got his hands on his hips and he’s pouting as Buckley of all people gestures wildly beneath the counter and reads him to rights.

Eddie stops on the threshold and watches, helplessly endeared as Steve brings out the king for a little jaunt, visible in the roll of his eyes and the tilt of his chin. But whatever he retorts must be all his Angel because Buckley belts out a laugh and then slaps both her hands over her mouth like she can shove the sound back into her throat and keep on glaring. Steve grins his private little grin and clenches his fist. Eddie can feel the effort he’s putting in to resisting the fist bump that’s carried over from all his jock tendencies.

And here, in fucking Scoops Ahoy of all places, Eddie feels himself getting choked up for all the world to see. Because all it took was one look at Steve Harrington’s smug face under that dorky little hat for his ennui to dry up: a sun to all his rain clouds.

It’s not nothingness in front of him, it’s Steve, and Will, and Uncle Wayne, and the rest of this fucked up family he’s stumbled into. It’s time to spend with the people he loves, and time to figure himself out.

And if the Upside-Down creeps its way back into their lives? All three of them will still be here, ready to plant their feet and stand firm against whatever new horror show pops up in their little cursed town. There’s not a Demo-anything that they can’t take.

And that’s a little too much for a random afternoon on a Monday so Steve tugs on the ties that bind until Steve turns, already beaming like it doesn’t matter anymore that Buckley’s back to scowling at him, arms crossed, and nose upturned like he’s a bug beneath her shoe. Steve tugs back, and they bring Will into the loop, too, feeding off each other’s presences, like always.

They’ll fight if they have to, like this; stronger together than apart, but they’ll live too.

Steve bounds around the counter, ripping off his hat like he was just waiting for an excuse, calling a quick, “I’m taking my lunch!” and not even slowing down at Buckley’s garbled complaints.

He runs clammy hands across Eddie’s arm, then Will’s, smiling like he hadn’t seen either of them in years, instead of a matter of hours. Customer service must be hell.

“How’re those corporate shackles treating you, angel?” Eddie says under his breath, dimples popping as Steve huffs. “Wanna use some of that hard earned cash to buy little old me some lunch?”

“You know I haven’t gotten paid yet, right?” Steve asks, but when Eddie bats his eyelashes, he rolls his eyes, and pushes past both of them. “Come on, Will, I saw a burger place on my way in.”

Will takes up his rightful place at Steve’s side, laughing as Eddie scrambles to catch up. “Me too, right Stevie?” he asks. “It was my idea, and I skipped lunch.”

Eddie pushes himself between them, latching onto both their elbows so he’s not left behind.

Buckley’s still yelling something, but they’re too far away to hear her now, and besides, Steve doesn’t seem to care.

They walk off into a brighter future, or at least toward a cheeseburger of some sort, and aren’t those just about the same thing?

THE END (unless my beta has other ideas)

We've got some editing to do for the ao3 publication, but this is it for Tumblr!!! I've got a few half-written ideas for on-shots off this same universe from other characters POVs that I'll probably post in the future, but this is the entirety of the fic! If any of you got this far reading this long of a fanfiction on Tumblr, I want to study you like a bug...how did you manage it?? If you've commented or added tags even once, I appreciate you. And, to the few who've been doing it fairly regularly throughout the process? This only exists because of you, and I mean that. I'm going to make another post about the UD AU once It's entirely edited and all posted on ao3, but otherwise, that's all folks! Wild that this all started from a little idea that was supposed to be a one shot <3 Also, because I think it's funny, this was the entirety of the outline I wrote for this part: "Eddie POV- IDK! Something something, Steve gets a job at scoops, Eddie thinks the shorts are so hot. He and Will go to visit him and Robin’s there and seems to hate Steve. The summer is theirs." Wow, thank you past Koko, that's so enlightening.

[plutoswritingplanet]

Lady Disdain (Captain Hook x Reader)

a/n: so i know i’ve been gone for like a year, but here, have this captain fucking hook smut jesus christ what am i doing.... (jason isaacs is hot tho, so can you blame me?)

Warnings: Dream Donging, Female Reader, Shakespeare quotes as foreplay

Summary:  Dreams can be a fickle thing. You're about to discover that, as Neverland drags you into a chance encounter with the devilishly handsome Captain. (cross-posted on ao3)

The first thing that rattles you from the calm embrace of sleep, is the smell. Gone is the fain scent of a coffee you've made and left forgotten, replaced instead by seawater and fresh air. Your nose scrunches, as new sensations flood your system. And then there's light. Not from the dim lamp in your apartment, but from the sun, warm and bright, coloring the insides of your eyelids orange. Ultimately, that's what brings you back to reality. There is no way you have direct sunlight in your room, so either your roof has fallen in while you've slept, or something even weirder happened.

As you finally open your eyes, you're hit with the realization, that something weirder indeed had happened, because as your sight accommodates to the sunlight, you realizes, this isn't your room that you're standing in. No, there are rough planks underneath your bare feet, splinters just about ready to break your skin. The wind blows around you, messing up your hair and tugging on your night gown. Wait... Since when have you been wearing a night gown? You remember, quite clearly at that, going to sleep in one of your favorite shirts. Your hands tug on the almost sheer fabric, the ruffles slide between your fingers as you marvel at the feeling. There's no way in hell you would be able to afford this from your minimum wage job.

- Captain?

Your eyes snap up, looking straight at a stocky, short man, dressed in a striped shirt, a red beanie on his head. Nervously, he reaches towards his face to push his small glasses up his nose.

- There appears to be a... uh... A woman, on the ship. - he says, hands shaking.

Your hands fly on instinct towards the hem of your gown, pulling it down, over your knees. Suddenly you realize, this really isn't your apartment, and even if this is a dream, being stuck on a ship with a bunch of strange men is not an ideal situation.

- Yes, Smee, I can see that.

Another voice joins the conversation, and with a gasp you look up, towards the steering wheel. There he stands, slowly walking down from his spot above the whole ship, movements elegant and smooth. In all your life, you've met many men, short, tall, skinny and fuller. Some of them pretty, some of them handsome. But, you've never seen a man quite as beautiful as the one walking towards you with such flourish, it takes your breath away from your lungs. The man pushes Smee out of the way, his lavish outfit and a gigantic hat covering your entire field of vision. There are black feathers all around his collar, mixing with lush, inky black locks of hair falling down past his shoulders. Icy blue eyes stare at you with intensity you've never experienced before, before his lips quirk up into a small smirk under his well-groomed moustache.

- Captain James Hook, at your service, my lady - the man bows down, taking his hat off, and you take a step back as the main, gigantic feather brushes over your feet.

- Am I dreaming? - is the first thing you say in this strange scenario, voice quiet and unsure.

The man looks up at you with a brilliant, roguish smile, before slowly pulling himself back to his full height.

- Who's to say? - he answers in such a cryptic way, you feel a sudden urge to roll your eyes.

Deciding for your own mental safety, that this is, in fact, a dream, you grab both sides of your gown, and bow slightly, just like you've seen in the movies. The Captain smiles at your curtsy, before reaching towards your hand. He takes is, rather gently, and brings it towards his lips, keeping eye contact with you and... Oh...

So this is "that" kind of a dream.

Your heart does a somersault in your chest, and you can nearly feel the blood, as it travels straight to your cheeks.

- What is this place? - you ask, after clearing your throat - Who are you people?

As you look at the crew, that has slowly gathered around you, you can't help but notice the way the Captain's expression of friendliness seemed to slip, just as your eyes left him. Replaced by a much more sinister, scheming glint, that sends a shiver down your spine. No matter, dream or reality, you were not about to let your guard down, especially around someone so obviously maleficent.

- This - the Captain makes a broad movement with his left hand - Is the Jolly Roger, the fastest ship on all Seven Seas. And we...

Your eyebrows furrow slightly, as you see the man approach you, swiftly invading your personal space. He smells of tobacco and rum, mixed in with the ever-present smell of the ocean and warm skin. It's nice, too nice, too easy to get intoxicated on. Acting on instinct, you start to walk back, him matching you step for step. Your back hits the wood of the mast, but the Captain doesn't stop, his figure towering over you, as he cages you in your spot.

- ...Are Pirates.

His words are but a whisper, shared between the two of you in a mockery of intimacy. For a split second, you think, you would like to wake up now. Because the Captain's eyes bear into you, like they're trying to drill holes into your very being, and his left hand comes up to caress your chin, pushing it up, until you're forced to look at him fully. Your breath comes out of your mouth in quick pants, heat rising from your chest all the way to the tips of your ears.

- Unhand me, Captain - you try, much weaker than you've intended, and the man flashes you a grin.

For a second, you're struck with how white his teeth are. A strange observation, but when was the last time you've seen a pirate with good oral hygiene. Then, as if a bucket of cold water has been dumped on you, your thoughts start to gallop, one, clear one forming between your ears. You don't like being in this situation.

And so, bracing yourself and taking a strong breath, you raise your hand, place it onto the man's chest, and push rather hard. He seems to be startled by the contact, eyes flickering to your hand, and back to you in confusion.

- For a man of such high standing, you sure lack manners - you wonder if the surrounding men can sense your demeanor is a lie.

By the way some snicker, you guess they can. Captain Hook raises one eyebrow at you, regarding you with a skeptical stare, and then he brings up his right hand. There it is, gleaming in the sun, a sharp, curved hook attached to where his hand should be. Your face falls, and the man smiles cruelly.

- Case and point - you mutter, eyes never leaving the weapon. - I'll have you know, I'm a respectable lady, and I deserve to be treated as such.

Captain Hook laughs, a short snicker, before regarding you with a look filled with irony.

-  A "respectable lady"? On a ship filled with men, in only her night gown?

Now, that sparks a fire in you, hands on your hips, you stand your ground against the Captain's oppressing posture, all the rage and fire following you in tow.

- I'm not responsible for my circumstance!

- Neither am I, I assure you - he raises his hands in mock surrender.

- Oh? And I'm supposed to just trust a Pirate's word like that? - you throw him a judgmental stare.

The man laughs again, his head inclining towards you in something, that vaguely resembles a show of respect.

- Wise, very wise, darling - your eyebrows shoot upwards at the new form of endearment - What are your demands, as a respectable lady?

You think for a second. In your mind, you haven't really arrived at that point yet, and making something up on the spot would pose a risk of exposing, just how much you have no idea what was going on. And yet, it's just a dream, isn't it? Soon, you'll smell your day's old coffee, and wake back up in your apartment, with no ocean in sight. Why not indulge yourself for a moment, while sleep holds you in its arms?

- I demand a tour of the ship - you announce triumphantly.

The man laughs, his eyes jumping around his crew, as if looking for a confirmation, that what you've said demanded ridicule. Apparently, it did, because all around you, you could hear snicker after snicker. You comfort yourself with the fact most of them sounded forced.

- Is that all? - the Captain already takes a couple of steps in your direction, and panic rises in your gut at his proximity.

- And do me no harm in the process!

That makes him laugh again, this one is loud and booming. Before you can get properly mad at him for laughing in your face, however, he takes off his lavish hat and bows again.

- Your wish is my command, my hearty.

Your face twists at the nickname, but you decide to say nothing, not wanting to push your luck, especially after being confronted with his deadly prosthetic. It's just a dream, you remind yourself in your head, as he comes over to stand by your side, arm sliding around your waist. It's just a dream, you keep reciting, when you feel his fingers pick at the thin fabric of your nightgown.

- ...Just a dream... - you mutter, and if he has heard, he decided not to comment, opting instead to pull you towards him, as he began to walk around the ship.

To his credit, the tour of the upper deck is completely respectable and rather interesting. As he explains the different parts of the ship, and introduces his crew along the way, you begin to slowly let yourself be carried through this weird experience. The hand on your waist no longer bothers you, even as it travels towards your hip from time to time. The crew is respectable enough, although the energy feels tense, whenever you're allowed to talk to them. As if everyone knows something that escapes you, some terrifying truth that you're not privy to. It's just a dream though, so you push your worries to the back and lean into the Captain's warm embrace.  

- And now - the Captain leans down to flash you a cheeky grin - pièce de résistance.

He opens the ornate door in front of you with his usual flourish, and you gasp, as you enter the most richly decorated room you've seen in your entire life.

- The Captain's cabin. My cabin. Just like the Royal Palace, isn't it?

You laugh, eyes searching the room in wonder, taking in all the splendor and the treasure. There's a beautiful, black piano standing in the corner in the room, pages upon pages of music sheets thrown around it in disarray. Your eyes skim over the papers filled with black ink. And then, you see it. A gigantic bookcase, climbing the entirety of a wall, from top to bottom, filled with books. Your heart nearly jumps at the sight, and you cross the room with determination.

- Oh, this is just wonderful - you whisper, eyes flowing over the titles, some you recognize, some you don't.

You reach towards one of the books and pull it out with a smile.

- "Much Ado About Nothing" - you announce, and immediately step back, collidig with the bookcase.

You have no idea how the Captain managed to sneak up towards you so quietly, but here he stood, mere inches from you, one arm braced on the bookcase, his long black hair framing his face. His hat was left on top of the piano, and his coat became abandoned as well, leaving him in just a silk black shirt and leather trousers. An interesting combination, worthy of a rockstar.

- Do you enjoy Shakespeare? - he asks in a quiet, casual tone, as if the situation is the most normal it could've been

You swallow hard, regaining your composure, bringing the book closer to your chest, as if to shield yourself from his oppressing aura.

- Not particularly, no - you admit - This is an exception.

The Captain pushes closer, and your eyes start to search a way for potential escape.

- What is it about?

- Oh... it's... - you stammer, the hard cover of the book digging into your chest from how hard you're holding onto it.

His smell invades your senses, swirling in your mind and bringing blush back to your cheeks. Slowly, but surely, you begin to be entranced by this strange, dangerous man. Even the gleaming hook propped right above your head doesn't hold as much power as it used to. It all feels so intimate, nearly suffocating. It makes you wonder. If you're dreaming, what harm could be done, in letting yourself be seduced by this beautiful pirate?

He answers for you, his left hand coming up to brush hair out of your face, silver rings bringing stark, cold contrast to your heated skin.

- It's about two people, who hate each other, but over time discover they're in love.

- Ah, a love story? -  his eyebrows furrow - I was never a fan of those.

You shake your head slightly.

- A love story, in a way yes. Mostly it's just funny. - you try to defend your story - But yes, the romance part is beautiful and witty, it's inspiring, really.

Captain Hook leans down, his hand leaving your face and sliding towards the book. Slowly, he worms his fingers under your hold, pulling the book out of your hands. You stare at him in confusion, as he skims through the pages, eyes jumping over the words with an unreadable expression.

- "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." - he reads out loud, and you watch his eyes crinkle, as he shoots you a smile. - Wise words.

You observe with growing anticipation, as he opens his hand. The book slides out, falling to the floor with a thud. Your eyes snap back to him, catching him in the process of staring at your lips.

- “I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.” - you whisper.

- So cruel - he muses, the ghost of his breath fanning over the side of your neck. - I shan't even suggest "love", my darling "Lady Disdain". I do, however, require payment for guiding you through this ship.

His working hand climbs the expanse of your neck, pushing your head up, enough for you to feel the bookcase behind you. Acting on instinct, your leg travels up, the night gown slipping, exposing your thigh.

- And what would that payment entail? - you ask, your heart thrumming hard against your ribs, like a bird still longing to be freed from the cage.

- A kiss.

Your heated stares meet in the corner of your left eye, where he hovers over your pulse point. Soon, your lips pull back into a crooked smile.

- Just a kiss?

- And whatever more you can give me. - his eyebrows knit together, as he answers with a pout on his lips, a poor attempt at acting innocent.

As if there was ever a time for innocence, on this strange ship sailing through your dreams. So, you arch your back from the bookcase, hand coming up to drag itself along his arm. Meanwhile, your leg hooks itself around his calf, intention clear as day.

- What will I get in return, should I decide to give you more? - you say in a low voice, the huskiness of your tone surprising, but welcomed by the Pirate with open arms.

The cold metal of his hook startles you, as it begins to travel from behind your ear, along the main artery, until it rests between your collar bones.

- You'll become one of my most valued possessions.

At this, you frown with no real malice behind the expression. It is a dream after all. That being said, one of your hands reaches up and behind him, fingers worming their way into his soft hair. It takes one gentle scratching motion to his scalp, and the Captain nearly moans, his knees buckling under your touch. It soon became clear as day he wasn't used to physical contact, or at least, didn't get much of it.

- I'll have you know, I treasure my freedom greatly. - you counter, fingers tangling themselves into his black locks and tugging ever so gently.

- Is that so? - his voice cracks, but he tries to hide it, by dragging his hook down the front of your body, until it catches onto the fabric of your night gown. - So do I. But sometimes, one needs to take some risks, to gain something one wants.

- And what is it, that you want, Captain? - your question dissapears into his mouth, as he finally closes the distance between you.

To his credit, at first he tries to be gentle, to go slow and sensual. But as soon, as you allow him to continue kissing you, all pretense goes out the window. His beard scratches your face, as he presses himself impossibly close to you, tongue slipping past his lips and nearly forcing itself into your mouth. You grant him access with no grace left, sighing loudly, when his teeth drag themselves over your bottom lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. He laps the red liquid like a man dying of thirst, and you start to wonder, perhaps your sleep-deprived mind has conjured a pirate vampire.

Finally, when you think your lungs can't take any second more without air, he pulls back. His eyes scan your face, and his expression turns smug, as he notices the redness around your lips, the way they are swollen from the kiss.

- Right now, I want to take you over this desk there. - he answers your nearly forgotten question, and your heart lurches from your chest.

- What are you waiting for, then? - perhaps, you sound just a little bit desperate, but why should you care, it was just a dream after all, and you were far too turned on to play any more games.

So, you squeal in delight, as his arm sneaks under your thigh, and he hoists you up. Your arms immediately encircle his neck, and as he carries you over to the desk, your mouth begins a journey of exploration of the space under his chin. Your tongue darts out,  licking a long stripe along his pulse, and you begin to worry he'll drop you, from the way his entire  body shivers.

Soon, your ass hits the surface of the desk, rich mahogany carved into many intricate designs, never to be appreciated, because as much as you'd love to explore all the antiques, the man before you looks much more appetizing. God, he's beautiful, as he towers over you in all his glory, hair ruffled and shirt even more undone than before. His eyes bear into you, and from where you're sitting, you start to feel like prey, waiting for the predator to strike. And so, he does, his hooked hand coming up to your gown, and dragging it down. You gasp, as the fabric tears, falling alongside your body in long stripes.

- You'll be the death of me - the Captain mutters, eyes slowly climbing over every inch of your exposed skin.

And then he dives in, like a man starved, and all you can do, is angle your neck to give him better access. There's no need for tenderness, as he all but ravishes your neck with rich kisses, his working hand roaming every inch of your exposed body, still, carefully avoiding the one place you needed it the most. The ,almost, painful pressure between your legs starts to build up, not enough to tip you over the edge, but enough to make you annoyed at the lack of any real friction. So, with a furrowed brow and a desperate pout, your hand finds purchase, tangled in his soft hair. Before long, you pull at the roots. Hard.

His head snaps back, teeth snared at the pain you were suddenly causing him. He gives you a confused expression, and you have to shake yourself from the trance his wild eyes put on you.

- Fuck me already, would you? - you pant out, shame thrown out the window.

You can see his face morph right before your very eyes. From slight confusion, to pure, focused determination. You nearly laugh, as he lets go of you almost imediately, in favor of trying to get his pants untied and off of his body, cursing under his breath, as his hand just can't seem to work fast enough. With an affectionate smile, you pull yourself up, hands coming up to help him, detangling the strings holding his leather pants together. Before you can get a glimpse of what's awaiting you, his hand grabs yours, pushing your body down, to lie on the surface of the desk.

Wooden sculptures dig into your naked skin, but at this point, you can't find any care in the world, because his pants are down, and he watches you with such intensity, one would think you're a science project. You can't trust your words, so you just nod your head,  in response to his silent request for permission. Soon, all thoughts leave your head, as he pushes in, in one, smooth, languid motion, as if savoring every miniscule twitch and twist of your body.

It's obviously been a long time for the both of you. Bodies finding familiarity in almost forgotten rythm, that starts slow, sensual and close. His breathing is shaky. You can feel his chest expand, his heart thrumming against your own. You allow yourself to get used to the feeling of having him inside you, each push and drag melting away at your bones, as your hands find their rightful place, scratching his working shoulder blades.

- C'mon. - you breath after a while of this tender love-making, and as if on cue, his hips snap up.

A squeak dies on your lips, as the Captain leans down to kiss you, his pace becoming faster, hips trying to move deeper. Soon, your whole body jumps on the surface of the desk, as the wood creaks rythmically under the weight of both of your bodies. You have the half-mind to note how sturdy the piece of furniture is, because the way this man above you is going, most of the surfaces in your apartment would've been reduced to splinters by now.

The Captain continues his ministrations, as the both of you grow closer and closer to you finish lines. Your voice slips past your lips as low, guttural groans, the pressure building seemingly with no chance of stopping it. You just need something to tip you over the edge. Pushed by the need for your own release, your right hand leaves the, now covered with sweat, back of the Captain, in favor of slipping between your conjoined bodies. You start rubbing quick circles, something to help you reach your goal, and as your body spasms, your voice grows ever-louder.

The man in front of you nearly trips in his fervor, your moans clearly affecting him. His brows shoot up, towards his hairline, as his hooked hand smashes itself into the surface of the desk. You would've been more alarmed by the violent outburts, if you weren't currently experiencing, what could easily be called one of the best orgasms of your life. Finding purchase in his stuck hook, the Captain resumes his work, going harder now, chasing his own high.

It doesn't take him long, before he topples over, moans and curses spilling freely from his lips, as his whole body weight crushes you. You're too close to being overstimulated, and you whine, as he finally slides out of you, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness, but satisfied nonetheless.

It takes the both of you a while to recover, as you stay for just a moment longer, tangled in eachothers arms, breathing slowly evening out. His head lifts from your chest to look at you, and you push sweat-drenched locks from his flushed cheeks.

He smiles, and for the first time, you can't see any ulterior motive in his expression. It's soft and serene, his eyes glossed over.

- Will the payment be sufficient? - you ask, voice hoarse from all the screaming you've just done.

- Entirely - the man laughs, and you can't help but giggle yourself.

Your body feels heavy with exhaustion. You let your head fall with a thud onto the desk. With half a mind, you note his body weight leaving yours, but there's no energy left in you, to try and look at him. Instead, you choose to close your eyes, the immediate relief of the darkness nearly wrenches a sigh out of you. Blood is pumping through your veins, you can hear it hum in your ears. The desk is slowly getting softer and softer under your body, as if your limbs become accustomed to the wooden surface.

And then, just as you're about to ask for a glass of water, or rum, or whatever the Captain chooses to drink, you smell a familiar scent.

Day's old coffee.

[hannahhook7744]

José Madrigal Prepon Headcanons;

His full name is José Lorenzo Madrigal Prepon.

He is 8 years old by d3.

He is the only biological child of both Mina Prepon and Camilo Madrigal, and the youngest of five.

Has been told he looks a lot like his dad, right down to his smile.

He's also been told that he looks like a frog when he smiles.

His birthday is March 7th.

José is short with skin that's a bit tanner than Camilo's but lighter than Mina’s, ovalish-shaped brown eyes, a button nose, big ears, and wild wavy/messy black hair that goes down to just below his ears.

He has the gift of 'Suspicious Telekinesis'. Which basically means everyone thought he had telekinesis but after Dayana got her gift, they discovered that he in fact does not have telekinesis but instead an invisible monster that follows him around and moves things for him.

This freaked José out at first but now he just runs with it.

He's double jointed and very flexible.

He's been nicknamed boneless, Pequeño estafador, Mi estafa mab, pequeña rana, and sneaky.

Dayana helps both of them communicate with one another now.

José has named the monster Ésoj and calls the monster his best friend.

He is a student at the Encanto’s only public school and he plans to go to a school outside of the Encanto the moment he's allowed because he thirsts for adventure.

José is also running a kid-casino out of his room, which his cousins—Dayana Espinosa Madrigal and Avila Marquez Madrigal—help him with.

José has been running scams since he was in diapers. Much to the bafflement of the rest of the family.

This is not an exaggeration: baby José literally figured out he could get attention from his parents if they thought he'd fallen or if he cried.

He wants to run a Theme Park and Casino when he grows up, and has thought about how he'd like to decorate it and what kind of rides there would be. Some are more practical than others.

José has been described as carefree, mischievous, sneaky, dishonest, obnoxious, slightly manipulative, bossy, selfish, ill-mannered, playful, fun loving, and occasionally impulsive. But he’s also intuitive, hardworking, charismatic, business minded, and a people reader.

The eight year old is single and uninterested in romance as of now. It is unknown whether it will change or not in the future.

He is friends with Mercedes Hood, Rosabio Hood, Jamie Darling, Henry Crewel, and Kansas Russo of Neverland.

Out of his cousins, he is the closest to Dayana and Avila.

Between his parents, José is closer to Camilo because of their similar personalities.

Out of his siblings, José is closest to Amelia because the two of them are considered the more spiteful of Camilo’s children.

Though he does get along with Carlos as well.

José likes playing pool, pulling pranks, fútbol, playing ‘catch me’ with Casita, picket pocketing people he doesn’t like, giving advice, graffiti, flower picking, cars, croquet, sneaking seconds, canoeing with Antonio, leapfrog, frog catching, trap setting, thrifting, laser tag, gaming, home improvement, paintball, roughhousing, kart racing, and drawing/sketching.

He isn’t very good at art but finds it calming and helpful for planning out his schemes and what his business will look at.

He adores theme parks and carnivals and could happily spend all day in one.

José doesn’t like it when his parents (or his siblings with their partners) get all mushy in front of him—he finds it gross.

José finds books boring and doesn’t like reading them. But he does read magazines when he feels like it.

He also can’t play an instrument to save his life.

He also can’t really cook most things to save his life, either, though he’s decent enough when it comes to making carnival, theme park, and circus like foods.

Antonio is his favorite uncle.

Félix is his favorite grandparent, though he gets along with Pepa just fine. He also gets along with his mother’s great aunt, Mata, quite well too.

He has ADHD.

José has a pet Gastric-Brooding Frog that he named ‘Flapjack’. Not even Antonio knows where he got his hands on an extinct frog.

The eight year old loves Flapjack deeply and would be distraught if anything happened to him.

He has Astraphobia and trypanophobia.

He has ended up on the wrong end of people’s wrath on more than one occasion due to both his personality in general and his cons/scams/pranks—which of course, scares and worries his family who don’t want to see him hurt.

Luckily most of the people leave him alone when he scurries to hide behind one of his older family members—usually Amelia, since she doesn’t tell anyone about what José has done and typically doesn’t care what he’s done, and will protect him fiercely without scolding him afterwards. If she's not available, he goes to Carlos for similar reasons.

José loves vests and has several of them to go along with most of his outfits. A lot of his clothes are striped and he can often be found wearing the flower that Isabela gave him shortly before his gift ceremony to calm him down after he got scared by the thunder.

He is a pretty decent actor when he wants to be and would probably be amazing in theatre if he was interested (which he likely will be when he’s older, considering how much fun he has pretending to be a conman/ringmaster/performer).

His favorite colors are grey, black, red, gold, and light purple.

His favorite magazines are ‘Good Castlekeeping’, ‘Wicked Weekly’, and ‘National Aristocratic’.

His favorite shows are ‘Auradon’s Ninja Warriors’ and any variation of ‘The Muppets’. He also loves watching Auratube—Jordan is his favorite Auratuber.

José likes playing video/arcade/board games but also likes watching them. He’s very competitive though, which can cause some problems. His favorite video game is ‘Crown of Duty’ and his favorite arcade game is ‘Knock 'N Down, Win A Crown’.

His favorite band after d3 is ‘The Bad Apples’. Before that he preferred The Dragon Slayers.

His favorite song is ‘Finders Keepers’.

His favorite foods are corn dogs, pizza, and Empanadas.

His favorite candies are Villain Straps, Poisoned Apples, and Fairy Bubble Gums. He loves blowing really big bubbles.

His favorite desserts are pumpkin pastries, funnel cakes, and jelly donuts.

His favorite drinks that he’s allowed to drink are lulo juice and chocolate milk. But he also really likes coffee, energy drinks, and soda. None of which he’s allowed to drink after the Casita Energy Drink incident.

José isn’t allowed to gamble but finds ways around that rule.

He’s considered a bad kid by many in the Encanto (though he’d never want to hurt anyone).

Thinks tourney is boring but finds R.O.A.R interesting and fun because Isabela and Bubo taught him fencing and sword fighting. He wants to participate in it when he’s older.

The eight year old fidgets when he’s nervous.

José cracks knuckles a lot.

Remember when I said he was the youngest child? Well he very much acts like it.

José is great at debate/arguing with people and always has been. Camilo has been talked out of grounding him on more than one occasion and he STILL doesn’t know how he keeps falling for it. Mina finds it amusing.

José didn’t like Diego, Rosana, or Eleanor at first but once he figured out they wouldn’t hurt his siblings he started cutting them more slack.

He doesn’t like school and finds it torturously boring.

He is that one older cousin who is scaringly good at convincing the younger ones that something is true. Like when he convinced Renata that when she lies her ears turn red or when he convinced Giovanni that the Boogeyman was real (Giovanni wasn’t scared like he was aiming for, unfortunately, and instead started leaving sweets out for it).

José would commit tax fraud without a moment of hesitation if he was old enough.

He doesn’t like having his picture taken and will try to duck out of them at any given chance.

He is a picky eater.

Somehow he always manages to roll a 20 when he and his cousins play ‘Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons’. No one knows how.

José is very good at cheating in class and during games but no one can ever prove that he is doing it. José takes great joy in this fact. He calls hearsay whenever someone tries to claim he’s using his gift to cheat.

He is the 4th youngest boy in his extended family (right behind Dolores and Maraino"s twins, and Antonio’s son).

He is a surprisingly good student despite how ill-behaved he can be.

He finds Isabella's potato people creepy. He's scared of them.

Mirabel made his baby blanket and his first ever toy. A purple, black, and gold frog blanket with red flowers on it, and a frog plushie that he named ‘Leapie’.

If José had to choose a weapon, he'd either choose a slingshot, a canon, a sword, or a cue stick.

The reason why José is afraid of thunder and lightning is because Pepa startled him really badly one time after she lost her temper on Yanamaria when he was two. Pepa feels terrible about it to this day.

He's afraid of lightning because he got hurt badly by lightning one time (it wasn't Pepa's lightning, it was nature’s lightning). He has lightning scars all over his body from it.

He's allergic to shellfish.

Despite their differences, José is Mina’s baby and she will absolutely go to bat for him if anyone tries to hurt him.

He's still small enough for both of his parents to be able to carry him. Camilo does it often to annoy the people who keep saying José is too old to be carried regardless of whether or not he enjoys it.

Camilo inherited Pepa’s protectiveness when it comes to his children. If you have a problem with his babies, you have a problem with him. That protectiveness extends to the rest of his family too.

José had inherited this protectiveness.

He likes horror movies but is a bit of a scaredy cat when it comes to them. Not that he'll admit it to Dayana or Avila. They'd never let him live it down.

One time, José broke the family tree on the wall and panicked—telling Leta and begging her to help him. Leta did, but unfortunately, her duplications aren't always perfect and Marcelo and Marisol and Mariana got swapped around on the tree.

Luckily no one has noticed.

He's good at making balloon animals, and it's his go-to gift to people.

José sounds like a mix of Antonio and Camilo but with a higher pitch.

His door shows him with a large shadow behind him that is easily mistaken for his shadow. His hand and the shadow’s hand outstretched with a pool ball floating above it.

The floor of his room is a light purple color and is carpet. His walls are black and grey, and striped. The ceiling has a fan and looks like the top of a pool table.

At first glance, the room is a bit bigger than the nursery with a red racecar bed in one corner of the room. The bed had frog bedsheets and pillows but the main blanket is the one Mirabel made him.

Across from that is a frog toy chest.

There's an area where he can play and another where he can practice his fencing, and in another corner of the room near his very business-like desk (except for the frog rolling chair) is a large enclosure for his frog.

He has a closet. What people don't know is that through that closet there is a door that leads to his own mini casino-arcade- play bar where he plays his favorite songs and gets to eat his favorite foods. This area has a bottomless mini-fridge and lots of pool tables.

But back in his main room, he has a couple of drawings of his dream Amusement Park on the wall along with a couple of band posters and a picture of him playing pool.

He has a magazine rack in his room and a appearing and disappearing tv that appears and disappears depending on his mood/attention span. He hasn't noticed this. It drives Dayana and Avila insane.

Alma passed down Pedro's gold watch to him on his eighth birthday after he did something that reminded her painfully of Pedro. Pedro’s ghost very much approved.

On his (black and gold) nightstand he has a purple vase filled with red roses.

When José is overwhelmed or upset the casino in his room will become unavailable to him and the frogs on his blanket will flee, and not return until he is comforted.

The days Amelia, Sofia, Carlos, Hugo, and José are all in the mood for getting into some mischief are all nightmares because the five of them are surprisingly vindictive when mad and working together and when they’re just in the mood for a good prank.

Camilo once unironically said ‘I know my kids, they wouldn’t do that’ and immediately all of his kids side-eyed each other because their father was 100% in denial and it doesn’t look good on him.

Once José gave Camilo a heart attack when he was three simply by virtue of being in another room and asking Carlos (eight) “is this really a good idea, buba?" to which Carlos replied “Trust me”. Camilo has never moved from one room to another so fast in his life.

Camilo often complains that he got most of his (non existent) grey hairs from Dolores and Mariano’s kids and that the rest are from his kids—José especially. If he were able to have permanent grey hairs this would be true.

José once kicked Camilo in the face when he needed to get a shot because he was three and already terrified of needles.

He is the king of making people he doesn't like uncomfortable enough to leave him alone. It comes in handy when someone is bothering his siblings or cousins.

[queer-boo-radley]

Same curious anon. When do you think Regina fell for Emma then?

Hi curious anon! I think Regina had several flashes of physical attraction/fondness towards Emma all throughout seasons one and two. But then when they were in Neverland looking for Henry, her feelings really deepened. That dark environment where they had to rely on each other, working so close together to find Henry, and getting to know Emma in that context, loosened her up enough for the feelings to slip in. I think she realized/accepted that she had fallen in love with Emma the moment she made the decision to send her over the town line with Henry and her memories. And then she spent the time they were separated bricking those feelings up deep inside of her heart where they could never potentially hurt her.

[nemo-in-wonderland]

10 People I'd Like To Get To Know Better Tag!

Thank you SO MUCH for tagging me into this., @mogruith (and I am so immensely sorry for the delay in which I respond: between IRL stuff and flu, eh, no strength was to be found! BUT AM READY NOW!! :D

So, without further ado, let's do this!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Last Song: "Farewell Neverland" - John Williams. Hook' s soundtrack is honestly one that I listen the most, because of personal reasons and also because it kinda helps me get out of myself and literally fly with imagination (plus, I was working on a small artwork while accompanied with this, so it was kinda fitting).

Favorite Color: I work with colours A LOT, so for me it's kinda hard to choose, because I love them all. But I would say that my most favourite palette would be blue-green, pale pink, pale lavander and white.

Last Book: I was rereading "Demon:The Fallen" to get some ideas for my Hellions squad in BG3 :)

Last Movie: "Hook". I watch it pretty often, it just makes me happy, so while I was sick, I just put it on to keep me company.

Last Game: Final Fantasy VII. I am taking a small break from BG3 now that I finished Act 2, and I am SO BEHIND with FF VII, so I just went with it!

Last Show: "Hellsing". I was kinda in a vampy mood, so I just went down memory lane and watch it again lolol

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: I used to be a "sweet" kind of gal, but in the past few years I have become more and more a "savory" person. So, by all means, gimme pasta con sugo, and I am happy gremlin lol

Relationship: Married to Mr. Nemo, who has been my better half for the past 17 years <3

Last Internet Search: "Amon:The Darkside of Devilman"

Tagging, as usual my mooties: @susann-noir @nyanykamito @gravecleric0900 @margridarnauds @fairytalelagoon @aiza-luna @abowlofcurry @savage-rhi @bloodsol94 @inquisitorcastellanos @hakongin @straight-into-the-animus (and if I forgot someone of my usual mooties, please do forgive me, and consider yourself tagged).

[wanderingoff]

Challengers Fic Recs!

I've completely fallen down the Challengers fic rabbit hole since I saw the movie a second time in June, and I'm surprised I haven't seen any Challengers rec lists floating around! I've read what feels like half the tag at this point, so I decided, hey, I guess that one's on me. I've been really impressed by the overall quality of what I've been reading, so these really feel like the creme de la creme and I hope even if you haven't read Challengers fic before, you give some of them a shot! (I will say, I'm not sure this is the best fandom to read without having seen the film, but the movie is SO good, just watch it and then come back) (Also, I don't read Reader inset fic which seems really popular in the fandom, so no shade to any of those authors, just not my bag!)

I wrote these little summaries cuz this post was so long! Without further ado, in order of length so I didn't have to obsess over that too:

let it once be me by wastelandbaby - 4444 words, M, Post-canon, Throuple, Getting together. Summary: An immediate post-match threesome can't fix what's wrong with them. Tashi and Patrick are texting and Art's crippling insecurity won't let him see what's directly in front of his face. Art POV. Rec: This fic is so short and un-sweet; I want to say it speedruns the beats that make so many throuple getting together fics work except it doesn't feel rushed in the slightest, and the ending is completely unique and honestly took my breath away.

open heart / open container by comosum - 5106 words, M, Post-Canon, Getting together Summary: The throuple is getting together, but Art and Patrick have to have a conversation first. Art POV. Rec: A large portion of this is one conversation and the dialogue fucking slaps. It does an unusually good job of having Art and Patrick directly/explicitly address each other's queerness before initiating sex, managing to thread the needle of "he would not fucking say that" and "it's actually not totally unrealisitic for these guys to be moderately self-aware at least of themselves."

give it a hand, offer it a soul by thcscus - 6493 words, T, Post-Canon, Established Throuple Patrick is playing his best for Art and Tashi. Patrick gets injured. Patrick doesn't know if it's the tennis that's over, or everything. Mixed POV. Rec: In the Exquisite Agony fandom, this is possibly the most Exquisitely Agonizing fic I've read. It's horrific. It's shocking how short it is compared to the rest of this list, but within the first 400 words my heart was in my fucking throat and it didn't come down for the remainder.

a romantic fool by spqr - 10300 words, E, Canon-compliant, Established Throuple. Lily is Patrick's. Art loves her for it. Art POV. Rec: Hands down, the fic that inspired this list and one of my gateway drugs into Challengers fic. I want everyone to read it.

this monstrous fire by kithmet - 10672 words, E, Post-Canon Throuple Getting together. An immediate post-match threesome can fix what's wrong with them. Along with some eavesdropping. Art POV. Bonus: kithmet made an incredible Challengers playlist not specifically for this fic, open relationship Rec: This is the closest thing to a fix-it on this list (it's very far from a fix-it), and I think convincing me these three could possibly figure their shit out in the short timeline of this fic is incredibly impressive character work.

neverland by ameliepoulain - 14079 words, E, Post-Canon, Art/Patrick, Getting together. Patrick quits tennis and moves on. Art quits tennis and does not. Patrick POV. (The second part of the series, second star to the right, is Art POV, pre-throuple, and essential.)(Bonus! Comes with playlist!*) Rec: Of all the fic on this list, I think this one takes the biggest swing on its set-up and for me that completely pays off. The two parts of the series also do an incredible job of demonstrating how opaque these people are to each other and do SUCH a good job of differentiating voices/experiences).

wishbone by a__peach__tree - 18375 words, E, Post-Canon, Throuple, Getting together. An immediate post-match threesome can't fix what's wrong with them. Patrick buys a ticket to the US Open, and waits, and tries to get his life together. Patrick POV. Comes with playlist*! Rec: This author does the most convincing Patrick-trying-his-hardest I've read; the action becomes so interior over the course of the fic and the tension ramps up so high I caught myself talking to the characters out loud, literally begging them to do the right thing.

american doubles by sticky valentine - 19166 words, E, Post-Canon, Throuple, Getting Together. An immediate post-match threesome won't fix what's wrong with them. Art invites Patrick to follow them to Cincinatti. Tashi thinks she knows what's going on. Tashi POV. Rec: I'm SO glad I found this fic before sending this post to press because we need Tashi POV and I think this does a great job of drawing back the curtain on her machinations and leaning into how human, fallible, and confused she is.

make it all look painless by sundaymournin - 20277 words, M, During-canon slight AU Or, this author outright rejects that these three had the self-control to actually stay away from one another. Art POV. Rec: Another true Exquisite Agony fic; it interlaces with canon beautifully and addresses Art's obvious anxiety more directly than anything else on this list, along with his self-loathing. This is the fic that takes the "none of them can stop hurting each other or themselves" to it's logical extreme without like, actual extreme behavior that would break character or make canon events impossible.

Bonus AU: it's getting better by spqr - 9025 words, T, No injury AU Let Art and Patrick be shlubs! Reckon with painful truth of a life in service to a single, unloving dream! Let Tashi find her way back to them anyway! Tashi POV. Rec: For me, the appeal of Challengers is how well crafted the movie is, so I've shied away from the handful of AUs. But a) ALL of spqr's Challengers fics are shockingly good, and b) out of all the fic on this list, this is the one I can most easily hear the dialogue in the actual voices of these characters & their actors, which is a high compliment from someone who does not have a very concrete imagination.

*I made these Spotify playlists based off text lists of songs in the author's notes of these fics.

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

And now here is Day 6 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs!!! @zaharadessert specializes in turning the angst up to about a 12, but the payoff she gives makes all the pain to get there sooooo worth it!!! So here are my very favorites of her fics!!

Get Your Motor Running - Rated E - Emma Nolan is driving home to Storybrooke having finished college, when her car breaks down. With no cell service the only thing in walking distance is the local biker bar…

Canticum Sanguinis Lux - Rated E - Once, all Emma Nolan wanted was a normal life, but when she had a run in with a vampire as a teenager she realised that she couldn’t escape the life of a hunter. Now all she wants to do is prove herself, and she’s going to end up going above and beyond to be the hunter the world needs her to be.

The Halloween Gambit - Rated M - Bar wench and orphan, Emma Swan is taken captive to lure Captain Hook to the noose. Things don't turn out as her captors expect.

The Heart of the Savior - Rated E -

One night, in every corner of every magical realm, every boy aged nine to seventeen disappeared. Not one remained. That was when Pan made himself known to the realms, and from that night the eve of every boy’s ninth birthday meant their disappearance, until finally the realms demanded to know what he wanted to return their children to them. Pan told them he wanted the saviour, and while most realms were confused Snow and David knew what he meant and confessed the role their daughter was supposed to have played in breaking the curse. The realms voted and agreed to Pan’s terms, and Pan stopped taking the realms sons, holding the children he’d currently taken as insurance of their compliance. 

For the next fifteen years Emma’s birthday wasn’t a celebration, it was another tick on the countdown clock to the end of her freedom. Not that she was ever free in the first place, but to save every male child in the United Realms including her younger brother, Leo… She understood that she had a job to do, and she would do her duty with her head held high. What she didn’t count on was the sparkling blue eyes of the man Pan sends to escort her to Neverland in time for her twenty-first birthday.

A Dream of Home - Rated E - Life with the Gold Pack has never been smooth sailing for Emma Swan, and things are getting worse now the pack leader's son has decided he wants her for his mate. Nothing she says or does seems to deter him, or deter his parents from encouraging the match. Emma's only hope is a promise someone made her seventeen years ago; a promise she's forgotten about in all but the deepest recesses of her dreams.

Fallen Angel - Rated M - Forced into a marriage she didn’t want with a man she didn’t love when her parents died, Emma Nolan did everything she could to make the best of it. But when he died, leaving her with an infant son, she realised the depths of his disregard for her and the sanctity of their marriage. Not only was he a gambler, he spent his winnings on his mistresses and left his young wife and with enough debt that she ended up in a workhouse. A workhouse which, like everything she used to own, has just been sold, and the new owner is coming by to survey his new purchase.

I Did Right series - Rated E -

chaos reigned supreme in Central Park yesterday, when the Mayor’s foster son was kidnapped in broad daylight under the supposedly watchful eye of hired staff. The mayor’s office has yet to make an official statement…

When Henry is kidnapped while Regina should have been taking care of him Emma is furious and resolves to do whatever it takes to get her son back. But will the CARD Agent sent by the FBI to help handle the case be more of a distraction than a help, or can he manage to be just enough of both to make this work?

All of Zahara's fics are fantastic, but these are my personal favorites. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have!! See you tomorrow for Day 7!!!

[aileetoilee]

Been playing a bit of Kingdom Hearts lately and by a bit I mean 7 hours straight in one day

I'm almost done with KH1! Still have Atlantica, Halloween Town, neverland and whatever comes after (Really curious as to what Hollow Bastion is) So no Spoilers please!!

Also if anything happens to my son Sora I will blame it all on Rikku (＃`Д´) That dude has been making a series of decisions I'm mad about lmao

Fun story, when I was around 8 I followed this youtuber that was a fan of KH and even had his minecraft avatar as sora from KH2. I watched a lot of his let's play including Zelda WW (Fav Loz game) and KH! Fast forward 12 years later, my Vtuber friend starts streaming KH since it finally released on Steam and I've fallen down that rabbit hole since hehe

I started playing KH1 like 3 days ago on a Ps2 emulator and player 8+ hours before a friend of mine gifted my the ENTIRE KH collection on steam (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) I'm super grateful to my friend cuz that wasn't cheap but man,,,, 8 hours down the toilets lmao

Anyways, here's me as a Keyblade User! I noticed the keyblades also had titles so mine is the Shooting Star! hehe

[assortedvillainvault]

Captain Hook,Davie Jones and captain Barbarosa are competing each other who is better captain,has better ship and can loot more treasure.

It’s a tense air that carpets the dark, back corner table the three of them are sat at, bottles in hand.

“Well, obviously, it’s yours truly.” Hook artfully sips from the bottle cradled in his namesake. “Formerly first mate to Blackbeard, immortal scourge of Neverland, a name known worldwide and, clearly-” he sneers a bit, “The one with the most class present. Of course its me.”

Barbossa rolls his eyes as he takes a rough swing of his own bottle, apple in hand. “Hardly.” he drawls. “Yer a coward who couldn’ kill a little ginger whelp and got yerself eaten for the trouble.”

“How dare-!”

“Besides-” Barbossa continues as though Hook weren’t even speaking, enjoying the way the red coated captain’s face was turning purple. “In case yer memory be failin’ ye, I ended my tenure at sea as Cap’n of a pirate armada, more swag in me hold than can be found in most palaces, and only the wrath of Poseidon ‘imself kept me from returning to stalk the waves again. Clearly.” He clacks the bottle against the table in finality. “It be me.”

The third occupant of the table leisurely lights his pipe even as Hook’s temper breaks and lunges across the table, the razor sharp hook just barely missing Barbossa’s throat as the older pirate swears and topples arse over ankles back from his seat. Bottles are thrown, swords are drawn, and Barbossas laugh is cut short as Hook slashes his feathered hat in half – fighting back properly with a snarl.

Jones idly puffs smoke and settles in as the bartenders weigh in against the squabbling captains, blue eyes glinting in the dark. His first mate, Maccus, leans over from another table.

“Uh-” the shark begins. “What’s the question again?”

Jones boredly taps out the ashes and lights another smoke. “Who be the best pirate.”

Maccus blinks. “But we ain’t even pirates. Most a th’ crew were honest sailors.”

“Aye.” Jones shrugs. “Ah dinnae know what they think we could do with looted holds - bar souls - anyway. The Dutchman regrows any damage.”

“And normal folk run screamin’ at port or sea.” Maccus nodded, teeth clicking idly. “...bets on these two?”

Jones surveys the broken furniture and theatrical shenanigans across the room, where Hook and Barbossa posture and swing, evenly matched as the barstaff duck for cover under tables and fallen wall hangings.

“...ten years say’s Barbossa, but only if it dinnae come to pistols. Hook’s a mean shot.”

Maccus grins full of sharp teeth. “Twenty years. Hook’s bloody quick, even if Barbossa’s all bones.”

Thanks for the ask!!

[laianely]

Whumptober

I decided to participate in Whumptober, running by @ouatprompts And this is my first entry. All stories are going to be Emma centric, Killian centric or Captain Swan.

no beta 'cause I'm too shy to ask, haha, sorry

Weaknesses of the Strong

2nd - Witchcraft Wednesday Poison - Hallucinations - “Who’s there?”

Rating: T Summary: The jungles of Neverland can break even the strongest of people. Even such people as Emma Swan. Read on AO3 Also decided to post it on Tumblr

Emma stared at the blank piece of paper, trying to see something in it. But all her efforts were in vain. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes to the sky and lowered her arms. Pan's mocking words rang in her ears.

"You’ll only be able to read that map when you stop denying who you really are".

She knew who she was. She is Emma Swan, and she has to solve another problem that had fallen upon her shoulders in all this fairy messy madness.

"You are the only one who can find Henry".

It's just her again, on her own. No one could help her. Not her parents’, who suddenly appeared in her life; not the pirate, who never took his eyes off her; not Regina, who tirelessly talked about what she was ready to do for Henry. It didn't matter. And the responsibility she hadn't asked for was back on Emma's shoulders.

Glancing in the direction of the camp, she made sure that no one was awake, and headed in the opposite direction. She needed a place where she could think about the riddle without being distracted by thoughts of the others. After all, they couldn't do anything to help her. 

As she made her way through the stubborn bush, Emma felt one of its branches catch on the bottom edge of her top. She yanked the fabric violently to free herself from its grasp, but immediately she felt a sweet, cloying scent irritating her nose, and a yellow haze of toxic yellow haze appeared in front of her eyes. Coughing, Emma stepped aside and looked up, covering her nose with her palm. Lush orange blossoms hung from the upper branches, their brightness almost glowing in the darkness. And now, disturbed, they were releasing pollen, showering it on their abuser.

"Damn this island," Emma swore under her breath, turning and walking away. 

She had no idea where she was going. She didn't really have a definite goal, just a desire to think and use the impromptu walk for that purpose. It was better than sitting idly by. In silence. And alone. The way she was used to.

But she wasn't alone.

A rustle of footsteps disturbed the silence of the night, and Emma glanced around furtively without stopping. Her thoughts raced as she wondered who might be keeping her company. One of Pan's henchmen? Or a local predator? From the sounds of it, it was alone, and she was ready to snatch her sword from the sheath on her back at any moment. She knew how to stand up for herself. She had to learn. 

Anxiety sent a cold tingle through her body, running along her spine and coating her skin with goosebumps as the rustling grew louder, thicker, larger. The creature was no longer alone. And Emma wasn't so sure of her powers anymore. A sudden crackling sound dangerously close to her made her flinch. Drawing her sword, she struck a pose and turned around.

"Who's there?!" she shouted, trying to hide her trembling voice behind an illusion of confidence. 

For a moment there was silence, deafening and dense, as if palpably pressing down on her, pinning her to the ground. Even nature fell silent, plunging the island into a dead calm. Only Emma's own breath cut through that viscous mass of hot jungle air in anxious gusts.

The sharp screech of several voices broke the silence, and Emma's hearing was filled with ringing, accompanied by pain. She dropped her weapon and covered her ears with her hands, but it didn't help. She turned around frantically, looking for the source of the sound, just in time to see something dark and shapeless flying toward her. Barely dodging it, she turned to look at the mass, but another one was moving to her. Crouching on the ground, Emma watched in horror as the creature flew over her, whirling her hair. And then, turning around, she realized it was impossible to count them anymore. They hovered in shadows around her, encircling and thrusting sharply over her. They touched her skin and burned cold, bringing panicked shrieks from her lips. Squirming, Emma tried to hide herself with her hands, nervously searching with her eyes for cover through the swirl of blurred darkness. Off to the side, she saw tall rocks forming a hollow. On the one hand - it would be a dead end. But on the other - it would prevent the shadows from surrounding her on all sides and give her a chance to fight off only one of them. Grabbing her sword, Emma crawled on all fours to cover when an unintelligible whisper began to break through the shrieking. And her body seemed to be pierced by a cold point as the words began to take shape.

"You're an orphan."

"I'm sorry, they didn't come for you." 

"You'll find your parents next time."

"We'll start a new life in Tallahassee."

"You are under arrest. Your boyfriend ran away."

"Emma, it's a boy."

"You can still change your mind."

"No, no, no," Emma mumbled brokenly. "Stop it".

Barely forcing herself to reach for cover, she wrapped her arm around her knees, hiding her face in them. 

"Go away! Leave me alone!" she shouted, swinging her sword to the side.

She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't hold back. She wanted to scream, to spew out the bitterness that filled her to the brim like a vessel of loneliness and sorrow. Her eyes stung, and she let her emotions take over, collapsing into sobs. 

"Please! Enough!" Emma begged.

She felt as if the sword had touched something tangible. Another illusion, designed to break her from her vigilance, no other way. But then the sword slipped from her fingers and something grabbed her tightly.

"No! Let me go!" Emma shrieked, kicking her arms and legs in an attempt to fight off the thing that had her in its grip..

Suddenly through the hum of voices something familiar began to nail her. Someone was calling out to her with a concerned uneasiness. A gentle voice filled with sympathy and compassion.

"Emma! Emma, open your eyes! Look at me!" the woman asked.

"No! No! Go away!" Emma screamed. 

But that person only pressed her harder to themselves, to a warm body. A hand was gently stroking her head, overcoming all her struggles. And Emma, abruptly opening her eyes, realized that she was in the arms of Mary Margaret. David was sitting next to her, staring intently at their daughter's face. 

"Dad... mom..." Emma wheezed, surprised at her own words coming out of her mouth.

She's used to coping on her own, shutting herself off from everyone and pushing them away. But there was a little girl hiding in the body of this strong adult woman who just wanted her parents.

Pulling away from her, Snow White smiled at her, and Emma noticed a deep, bleeding cut on her mother's shoulder. Realization slapped her as she remembered how her sword had met resistance.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Emma's voice trembled as she could barely hold on to more sobs.

"It's okay," Snow White shook her head, her smile strained in an attempt to overcome the pain. "I'll be fine. We both will be fine".

She pulled Emma into a warm embrace again, and this time David joined them, pressing his daughter's head against his cheek.

Emma could see Hook and Regina behind them. Even their faces expressed deep regret and concern. 

"What the hell was that?" Regina asked Killian quietly.

Assessing the yellow coating on Emma's clothes and skin, Killian frowned.

"A creepy flower," he replied.

"What a weird name,"  Regina was indignant.

"It reflects its essence. Its pollen sends out visions of the worst nightmares for a person," Killian explained.

He touched Regina's shoulder, and she turned to look at him, but he gave Emma and her parents a meaningful look and nodded towards the camp. It was a rare situation when Regina didn't argue. After all, even she understood how serious the situation was when even the Savior had broken down.

Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche