#anyway anna i love you the world is lucky we don’t live in the state because otherwise we would be a combined menace to society

[peachcitt]

you are next to anna. anna is next to her friend. anna is telling her friend how to find her ao3 and tumblr. what do you do. how do you feel.

first of all im obsessed with this. second of all im gonna set the scene. picture this.

@anna-scribbles. me. anna’s friend. we’re sitting the three of us at a lunch table. anna’s friend is new to me and i have begged her. begged her. each time this luncheon has been brought up to not involve me in the miraculous ladybug talk because i have a Process of introducing that side of myself which is: not at all. and the whole time anna has been nodding along, nodding along, and also saying “sure >:). of course i’ll do that >:)” kind of half jokingly. and here anna’s friend comes along to this luncheon where i am white knuckling my utensils staring at anna every time she opens her mouth because, inevitably, we are talking about adrien agreste. and anna’s friend asks me if ive ever seen this ladybug and cat show and anna looks at me from across the table like

and i look anna’s friend in the eye and i say, “well anna talks about it a lot, and i guess ive seen parts of it, but that’s all!🤗” like a liar. and that’s when anna starts pulling up her ao3. and she mentions tumblr user peachcitt who she has collaborated with on various fics and things before. she talks on and on about tumblr user peachcitt until i am forced to say, out loud, that she should stop or else “i’ll get jealous of that tumblr friend of yours because i, the person you make promises to with verbal words out loud, am your real best friend.” because that is funny enough for anna to stop talking since she is so busy laughing that i am able to jump in and ‘save myself.’ to redirect i talk about percy jackson.

and that is how it would go. thank you for your time.

[ahtohallan-calling]

thank you for the prompt!!! this is in plane au verse but i think it can be read as its own thing too :)

                                             Hey, guess what.

U GOT IT????

KRIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                                             Yeah. Goodbye adjunct life, hello full-time. 😊

im so proud of u!!!

knew u could do it

i love u so much 💕💕💕

                                   I want to take you someplace special tonight to celebrate.

😭😭😭 what did i do to deserve u

well celebrate after that too 😘😘😘

if u catch my drift

oh im in a publisher meeting g2g love uuuu

                                  Love you too. ❤️

He slid his phone into his back pocket and headed down the stairs, grinning so broadly his face hurt. Being in such a specialized field-- really, the fact that he had as many students as he did was still shocking-- meant becoming a full-time professor of Scandinavian studies was a long shot, and getting tenure was a total pipe dream. 

But by some miracle this spot had opened up for him in the History department, and they’d needed someone who could cover a couple of lit classes, too, and he’d just so happened to have done his dissertation on Old Norse epic poems and done some background research on similar things and that had been exactly what they needed-- and when he’d explained all of this to Anna, breathless and rambly as only she usually was, she’d squealed and thrown herself into his arms. “You’re a shoo-in, babe,” she’d insisted, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“I mean, I still have to get through the interview--”

“A shoo-in. Trust me. And they know it too.” 

“I just--”

She’d moved her attention to his mouth, already twining her legs around his waist and tangling her hands in his hair. “Shh. Stop worrying.”

And he had, or at least he’d tried to, but the fact was that more than just his career was depending on this. He’d been dating Anna for a year now, living with her for a couple of months, and had been looking at engagement rings not quite casually for a few weeks; but the fact remained that as long as he was just an adjunct, there was no guarantee of stability, no sense in putting down roots when the rug might get pulled out from under him without much warning. And there wasn’t exactly a high demand for professors of any kind in the whole state, let alone just Boulder, especially ones who specialized in Viking mythology instead of chemistry or composition or something else far more practical.

But somehow it had happened; he’d signed the contract and everything, no gotchas! or take-backs now, and he knew exactly how he wanted to celebrate with Anna. He texted that he’d pick her up outside of the publishing office, then ran a couple of errands, picking up what he knew they’d need right away tonight.

He parked in the garage, somehow nabbing a spot by the doors on the right floor and everything-- it really was his lucky day. She was already waiting for him, dancing from one foot to the other. She flung the door of his beat-up Honda open and threw herself inside, leaning so far over the console she was nearly in his lap. “You did it!”

“I did, yeah,” he said with a laugh, meeting her fevered kisses with equal enthusiasm. “But we have to-- mmf-- hurry because-- Jesus, Anna-- they close at six.”

“What sort of fancy dinner place closes at six?” she asked all in one gasp as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her collarbone.

“We’re not having dinner there,” he mumbled against her skin, wishing he’d thought to wait for her in the backseat.

“Then what--”

A honk sounded as someone nearby unlocked their car, and they jumped apart, both flushing scarlet. Her hair had fallen half out of its neatly coiled bun, and he reached over, carefully freeing the rest and letting it fall in waves over her shoulders. He tucked an errant strand behind her ear and let his hand linger there, running his thumb over her cheekbone. “Have I told you how gorgeous you are?”

“Yes. All the time. And I’d love to hear you say it again except if this place closes at six we’d really better get a move on. And there’s lipstick on your-- here.”

She dabbed it carefully off his chin and gave him a quick peck on the lips for good measure. “There-- all set.”

“Thanks. Don’t forget to buckle.”

“I never do,” she said cheerily, already plugging in her phone to play her special “Very Good Day Playlist” she kept handy for special occasions and always begged him to sing along to. 

He pulled out of the parking garage to the sound of Queen and the dinging of the no-seatbelt alarm. “Anna,” he groaned, pretending to be exasperated, and she giggled, fastening the belt. “Sorry, sorry.”

As they got through the worst of the city traffic, he set his right hand on her knee, rubbing gentle circles on it as he drove past the city limits. She rolled the window down, singing at the top of her lungs for all the world to hear, and he couldn’t help but grin, knowing that she was this happy because something good had happened to him. 

They pulled up in the gravel parking lot, and she went quiet as he turned off the car. Neither of them opened the doors.

“Kris?”

“Hmm?”

“You really...we’re really...you’re serious? We’re going to do it?”

She turned to look at him, eyes wide, as if she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. He’d felt that way quite often ever since he’d found himself sitting next to the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes upon on a flight that had turned out to be anything but routine.

He reached over and took her hand. “Well, you know I’m going to marry you someday. Sooner, rather than later, if I can swing it.”

She already knew that, but she let out a little gasp of surprise at hearing him say it anyway. He grinned and squeezed her hand. “But now that I know we can stay here in Boulder for the long-term, I know there’s something else we’ve both been really wanting, too. And now we don’t have to worry about what’ll happen if we have to move or something.”

“But we haven’t got--”

“My meeting was this morning, and I knew you wouldn’t be ready til three. So I ran a few errands. We’re all set.”

She was sniffling now as she put her other hand on top of his; her fingers were trembling, just barely. “You mean it? We’re really doing this?”

“Yeah. If you’re ready, I mean, or we can wait a little--”

She dropped his hand and leaped out of the car, barely remembering to unfasten her seatbelt. He grinned and followed after her, setting his hand on her lower back as they walked through the doors into the brightly lit lobby. A woman with gray threaded throughout her long braid was waiting there at the counter and greeted them with a bright smile. “Hi! How can I help you two today?”

“We’d like to adopt a cat,” Anna said, bouncing a little next to him. “We’ve sent in the preliminary paperwork before and got approved, we just haven’t come in yet.”

(In fact, they’d done that hardly a week after moving in together; they’d known it would be a while before it could actually become a reality, but still-- you never know. Never hurts to be prepared.)

The woman quickly found them in the system and then led them to the back of the animal shelter. “Our kittens are all here,” she said, gesturing to a playpen full of tumbling balls of fluff, “and the kennels are all in the next room.”

They’d talked only a little about what kind of cat they’d like to adopt; Anna had insisted that when she saw the right one, she’d know right away. She seemed determined to prove that correct and immediately crouched beside the playpen, inspecting the kittens carefully. To both Kristoff and the woman’s surprise, she shook her head. “No, they’re lovely but-- not quite right. I think I’d rather adopt a grown-up cat. One who needs us.”

God, he’d never loved her more; he had half a mind to take her to the courthouse as soon as they finished here and marry her right then and there. The shelter employee beamed at her. “I think I may have just the cat for you.”

She led them to the back of the room of kennels and opened a crate, cooing softly and holding up her arms. “Come on, baby,” she coaxed, and a fuzzy, gray-and-brown head peered out. 

One of the cat’s ears looked like it had had a bite taken out of it, and there was a bit of a scar under one eye. Kristoff felt a little brush against his fingers and glanced down to see Anna taking his hand. 

The cat finally emerged fully, climbing into the woman’s arms, and he heard Anna whisper, “oh, bless him,” as they both noticed at the same time that the cat was missing a front leg.

The woman turned, scratching the cat behind the ears. “This is our Marco. He’s been here for a few months now. We think he was a stray, got brought in when someone accidentally backed over him.”

Anna stepped shyly forward and held her hand up near the cat. When he didn’t hiss, she reached out carefully, stroking him behind the ears. He nuzzled against her hand, letting out a little purr, and a smile bloomed on her face. 

“This is him, Kris,” she said, only tearing her gaze away from the cat for a moment. “This is our cat.”

“You’re sure?” he asked, knowing that she and he both already were, and she nodded enthusiastically. 

The woman beamed and held out her arms slightly; Anna did the same, and to Kristoff’s delight the cat went easily into her arms, meowing as if he was saying the same, yes, you’re mine.

He reached over and stroked the cat behind the ears, knowing he was grinning just as broadly. The cat looked up at him with bright green eyes; he nodded solemnly and was rewarded with a loud miaow. “Welcome to the family, buddy,” he said, and Anna let out a little whoop of joy.

He handled the rest of the paperwork and the adoption fee quickly while Anna kept cuddling the cat, muttering different names as she looked him over. “You really don’t look much like a Marco, do you? Maybe-- maybe Tom, like the cartoon-- no, that’s not it-- Crookshanks? No, I don’t actually like Harry Potter that much...maybe something literary, maybe Eliot…”

Kristoff led them back out to the car and pulled out the travel carrier from the trunk. Before Anna slipped the cat inside, she looked up at him, clearly still thinking hard. “What do you think, Kris? What does he look like his name should be?”

He met the cat’s gaze, reached out and ran his hand down his back before scratching behind his ears. “He looks like a Sven to me.”

Anna laughed. “What a funny idea-- but I like it. Sven it is, then.”

She kissed the top of the cat’s head and guided him into the carrier. He curled up quietly, and she settled the box on her lap as Kristoff turned the keys. “Sven, my darling, let’s go home.”

[hforhonesty]

Book Review #3 | Ghosts of the Shadow Market (part 1)

 By C. Clare, M. Johnson, K. Link, S. Brennan, and R. Wasserman

[Beware! This review contains spoilers, so read at your own peril.]

“The Shadow Market is a meeting point for faeries, werewolves, warlocks and vampires. There the Downworlders buy and sell magical objects, make dark bargains, and whisper secrets they do not want the Nephilim to know. Through two centuries, however, there has been a frequent visitor to the Shadow Market from the City of Bones, the very heart of the Shadowhunters. As a Silent Brother, Brother Zachariah is sworn keeper of the laws and lore of the Nephilim. But once he was a Shadowhunter called Jem Carstairs, and his love, then and always, is the warlock Tessa Gray. Follow Brother Zachariah and see, against the backdrop of the Shadow Market’s dark dealings and festive celebrations, Anna Lightwood’s first romance, Matthew Fairchild’s great sin and Tessa Gray plunged into a world war. Valentine Morgenstern buys a soul at the Market and a young Jace Wayland’s soul finds safe harbor. In the Market is hidden a lost heir and a beloved ghost, and no one can save you once you have traded away your heart. Not even Brother Zachariah.”

[Official synopsis of the book.]

  After something like three hundred and eighty-four years, we finally get the Jem Carstairs content we desperately needed since the end of TID. Because a life without Brother Snack-ariah is no life at all, am I right?

The book consists of ten short stories and follows the adventures of Brother Zackariah, our beloved Jem, searching through the shadow market in order to find some information about the Lost Herondale.

Set in 1901, the first two stories (“Cast Long Shadows”, and “Every Exquisite Thing”) are an introduction of the upcoming The Last Hours trilogy, whose first book (Chain of Gold) is coming out on March 2020.

Just eight more months until its release. We can do it, guys. It’s not like we are doing our waiting… Twelve years of it… In Azkaban. By comparison, March 2020… that’s like tomorrow.

Anyway, the co-protagonist of Cast Long Shadows is Matthew Fairchild, Charlotte and Henry’s second born. Matthew’s interests include his parabatai James, fashion, Oscar Wilde quotes, and being adorable 24/7.

The faerie woman looked almost sad. “You come of a brutal people, sweet child.”

“Not me,” said Matthew. “I believe in art and beauty.”

“You might be pitiless one day, for all that.”

“No, never” Matthew insisted. “I don’t care for the Shadowhunter customs at all. I like Downworlder ways much more.”

It’s been a few years since our Scooby gang was expelled from the Shadowhunters Academy, and now Matthew and James are parabatai. I’ve always loved their relationship, especially at the beginning when they were still rivals, and I can’t wait to read more about them.

“Bless you, my Herondales,” said Matthew grandly, scrambling up from the floor and making Lucie his bow. “I come upon an urgent errand. Tell me – be honest! – what do you think of my waistcoat?”

Lucie dimpled. “Devastating.”

“What Lucie said,” James agreed peacefully.

“Not fantastic?” Matthew asked. “Not positively stunning?”

“I suppose I am stunned,” said James. “But am I positively stunned?”

 The Last Hours is going to shatter our hearts. I already know it. You already know it. Everybody already knows it. Which is why I keep asking myself, why am I still reading Cassandra’s books even though each time they seem to inexorably destroy what is left of my soul? Give me a call when you find out the answer.

All right, I never thought The Last Hours was going to be sugar, spice and everything nice, but this is way too much. How am I supposed to live knowing that Matthew is hurting and that there is nothing I can do about it?

I hated reading this novel. I really did hate it. Because Matthew is young and naïve and innocent and so unselfish and sensitive, and yet he was exploited and manipulated by a psycho Downworlder who wanted to hurt the Shadowhunters. His only fault was giving too much credit to the insecurity that he always tried to hide behind an overconfident façade, and this endangered his mother and killed his unborn sister.

Instead of telling the truth, he decides to keep it a secret from everyone, even from his parabatai, since he feels so ashamed of himself and thinks that there cannot be forgiveness for what he has done. So from now on, something in Matthew changes, and he will never be the same.

In the second novella, Every Exquisite Thing, the co-protagonist is Anna, Cecily and Gabriel Lightwoorm’s eldest daughter. Chapeau to the artist for making such a beautiful drawing of her! She’s perfect... and she also looks like Ruby Rose, doesn’t she?

We stan a queen.

Beside stealing her brother’s clothes, she enjoys getting weird (see: voluptuous) glances from other women while walking down the streets. I mean, even Brother Six-pack-ariah states that she looks a lot like her uncle Will, which is something that could give her the power to turn freaking rocks on.

Although Anna was definitely born in the wrong period, she’s still lucky enough to have a supportive family that loves her no matter what.

Anna thought of all the pain of the day again – the wound that had ripped her chest open and exposed her heart. But now it was as if her mother had drawn a rune over it and closed it. The scar was there, but she was whole.

It was like being Marked all over again, defining who she was. This was Anna Lightwood.

When I read this novella for the first time, I was on a plane, so I was like Elsa from Frozen. Conceal, don’t feeeel, don’t let them knowwwwww.

Little did I know that something even more heart-breaking was coming... and it answers to the name of Learn about Loss. Which was the moment when the Elsa in me was like well, now they knooowwwwww.

Let it gooooo, let it goooooo.

Can’t hold it back anymooooooreeeee.

In Learn about loss, we follow Brother Mlml-ariah back to the United States, where he and Sister Emilia (a James Carstairs stan) are investigating some weird activities regarding adamas. They end up in Chattanooga, Tennessee, where a Mysterious Merchants’ Bazar is promising the inhabitants of the city whatever they most desire.

We all know that in the shadow world there is no such thing as coincidences, so the one who is stealing the adamas is the one behind this market... and he is also of the Greater Demons, Belial, who happens to know something important about the Lost Herondale.

“I might know a cure,” Belial said. “Yes, I think I know a sure cure. You could be who you once were. You could be Jem again. Or.”

Brother Zachariah said, Or?

Belial’s long tongue flickered out, as if he was tasting the air and found it delicious. “Or I could tell you a thing you don’t know. There are Herondales, not the ones you know, but of the same blood as your parabatai.”

It could be a great dilemma. Getting rid of a curse that ended your life and becoming a Shadowhunters again – or remaining a Silent Brother just to help out the two people you love the most? But what could be a great dilemma to most... means nothing to Brother Zachariah, who, even as a Silent Brother, is devoted to his loved ones more than ever.

The Carstairs owe a life debt to the Herondales.

which is a deeper and stronger way to say «I love you».

At the end of the novella, Sister Emilia makes a deal with Belial, who promises her to give Brother Zachariah some extra time with his dying parabatai in form of a vision.

In the vision, Will and Jem are young again, and it’s the period before their parabatai ceremony. They find themselves in Shangai, which is the place where Jem was born... a place they never got to visit. For once in a long time, even though for a short moment, Jem is himself again and gets to be with his other half before Will passes away.

I love the way Cassandra Clare describes the bond between parabatai. It is so intimate yet it makes you feel part of something bigger just by reading about it.

There was a lightness in Jem’s chest that he realized, finally, was joy. He saw that joy mirrored in his parabatai’s face. The face of the one you love is the best mirror of all. It shows you your own happines and your own pain and it helps you bear both, because to bear alone is to be overwhelmed by the flood.

We had been waiting for this moment since The infernal devices... and it’s more than perfect.

I think I speak for everyone when I say that we could never thank Cassandra enough for this reunion. Unless she decided to write a new series about them...

Anyway, this is where the first part of my review ends. I hope you guys enjoyed it; in this case, let me know! On the contrary, let me know too!

Ave atque vale,

my brothers and sisters

[lukin08]

The Heart of the Matter- Chapter 1

Based off this adoption drabble here

A/N: Before we start, you should know that this is only happening because of @kristoffxannafanatic.  I loved this idea, but didn’t know what to do with it.  She came up with a whole story line I couldn’t resist and answered the “What comes next?” from the original drabble.  And guess what?  This chapter is hers.  I only edited it and made some updates (with her approval) and I think she did a wonderful job setting up the story.  Hope you enjoy this!

Rating: T (for talk of adoption and minor swearing)

Words: ~2300

Master Post

Uncomplicated.

That is the word Kristoff Bjorgman would use to describe himself.  He didn’t crave danger or drama. The only excitement he found exhilarating was playing hockey or watching it with his brother.  He liked a job well done, being alone and hiking in the trails in the state parks.  A vacation for him was roughing it with a tent and minimal supplies as far away from anyone as he could get.  The only thing he considered mildly interesting about himself was his background. With the exception of being adopted as a baby and having a different last name than his family, he would say he was the most boring person alive.

He was never interested in who his birth parents were, never looked up the meaning of the name Bjorgman or questioned his linage because he had no plans on having a family of his own.  Whatever was part of Kristoff that had made him so unwanted was best to let die with him.

He didn’t believe in most kinds of love anyway.  The concept was a fairy tale with stories of true love and happily ever after.  But what came after that?  In most cases, at least those he observed, it only lead to broken promises and heart ache.  Kristoff was perfectly content with his parents, Bulda and Cliff and his older brother, Sven.  He shared a bond with Sven, both orphaned and taken in by the most wonderful people that dared to love the undesired.  That love was unconditional and hard work.  That love he accepted.  

Kristoff was slow paced, calm and always thought everything through.  Never a leap before you think kind of person until…

The day Anna Arendelle came crashing into it.

Anna was everything Kristoff was never attracted to in other girls.  He dated, but it was always with women who were never serious about a relationship. Lovely girls, but like Kristoff, it was always more of a physical attraction and they would let the relationship fizzle out with both parties happy to go their own ways.

Anna was high energy, bubbly, passionate, happy and definitely a leap before you look type of person. She annoyed Kristoff beyond belief at first and quickly had him at his wits end.  But there was something about Anna that wouldn’t leave him alone. He couldn’t stop thinking about the feisty redhead no matter how hard he tried.  It drove him crazy because she was the opposite of everything he was or thought he wanted.  Kristoff resisted his attraction for weeks but there was no use.  He needed to get to know her.

He stumbled over his words when he asked her out, convinced she would try not to laugh at him and find a polite way to turn him down.  But when he looked down at her he was met with an excited face and exuberant ‘of course!’ From that moment on, he never looked back.  Kristoff’s life went from black and white to Technicolor.

Anna made him the happiest man alive. She introduced him to a life full of new and exciting experiences. She made him want to try everything and he found himself opening up more and more each day.  She also seemed fascinated with what he had to say and think.  Maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as he once thought.  With her, he pictured a life full of fun, adventure and a family of their own.

His mom couldn’t stop hugging Anna when they announced their engagement to his parents.  His dad told him how proud he was and Sven said he knew Kristoff had it in him and reminded him that he was one lucky guy to have found someone like Anna.  Then Bulda swept him up again into a tight embrace, amazingly strong for such a small woman.  She had always told him love would find him if he let it and he was grateful now that all his eye rolls and denials had been so wrong.

Anna loved being so welcomed into Kristoff’s family.  Her parents had died when she was a teenager and her sister lived so far away and it was so lonely all the time.  Kristoff’s family gave her back that sense of belonging.  Bulda was there for every part of planning the wedding, offering support and a motherly hand.  She was invited to every family dinner and holiday, with or without Kristoff, his mom would kid.  His family were the first ones there to help carry boxes in when Kristoff and Anna moved into their home.  Their love for her was unconditional.

Anna always knew Kristoff was adopted.  It was a conversation that had come up early in their relationship.  Anna understood how Kristoff felt about it, how he was happy with the family he had.  As much as she was curious about his background, she respected how he felt and didn’t push him to find out more.  But when they began to discuss trying to get pregnant, Anna’s curiosity got the best of her.  She started to ask Kristoff if he was interested in finding out who his birth parents were.  It seemed a natural part of the conversation.  Kristoff would listen to her talk, but always managed to change the subject whenever she pressed him more.  Eventually she let it drop.  

It wasn’t until Anna was 4 months pregnant that the subject came up again.  They were lying in bed and Kristoff was rubbing Anna’s small baby bump and singing to their baby.

“Are you scared?” Anna asked.

Kristoff stopped his singing.  “I’m terrified… you?”

Anna raised her arms up. “Of course I am!  We’re going to be responsible for a little human being! It’s amazing I can even take care of myself and now we have to keep a very small, very tiny person alive.”

Kristoff let out a belly laugh. “Stop! You’re going to be a great mom.”

Anna knew this was the perfect chance to bring up the subject again. Making sure to use all of her beguiling charms, she smiled wryly at him. “Kris, I think you’re going to be a natural at this.  Just you wait.”

He knew what she was up to. She only called him Kris when she was being seductive or wanted something. “The jury is still out on that.  I know what kind of dad Cliff is and I can only hope to be a fraction as good as him. But as far as natural… that will always be a mystery.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.”

“Anna-“

“Don’t you want to know?”

Kristoff shrugged.  “They haven’t tried to find me. Why should I find them?”

Anna couldn’t believe his lack of interest. “What if they couldn’t?  What if it was an unavoidable decision and they are afraid to interfere in your life? What if it was a hard, sad decision they had to make and are waiting for you to be ready to reach out?”

He gave a grumbled “Hmph” and laid his head down on the pillow.

Anna wasn’t going to give up that easy.  She rolled over on her side, hooking and arm around his waist.  “Well, what if we do just the nationality portion of the DNA test? You don’t have to share it with anyone, but I think it could give us some useful information.  Then you’ll know your background!”

“We’ve already figured from my name that I’m of some Scandinavian country. Isn’t that enough?”

“That is only part of who you are.  And you have two parents.  That doesn’t mean that’s all there is to know.”

Kristoff rubbed his eyes with his plam.  “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Anna lifted her head and gave him that smug look she always gave when she won an argument. “Nope.”

“Ugh.  I swear one day you’re going to be the death of me.”

Anna’s face turned serious. “Kris, it isn’t just for you but our daughter. You want what’s best for her don’t you?  This information will help her.  It’s something she should know.”

Kristoff quirked an eyebrow at her.  “A daughter?  Is there something you haven’t told me or an appointment I missed?”

Anna’s grin was back. “Nope.  I just know.”

Kristoff gave her that sexy growl Anna loved so much and he pulled her closer to him.  He started kissing her collarbone and slowly worked he way up her neck and along her jaw on his way up to her smug smile and kissed her deeply. He pulled his head back and looked at her.  “Okay. For the baby.  But only the nationality test.”

Anna returned his kiss with passion.  When they broke apart, she moved her lips to his ear and whispered.  ”You won’t regret it, Kris.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, babe.”  Kristoff titled Anna’s head back so he could kiss her again.

 Alexandra Elsa Bjorgman was born at 7:19 am weighing in at 7lbs 2oz and 19 inches long.

Kristoff cried the moment she was placed in his arms. He couldn’t believe how in love he was with her. She was only a few minutes old, how could he be so wrapped around her little finger already? He knew he was going to do everything in his power to be a great father.

That included accepting who he was by answering the email sent by his maternal aunt who found him from the DNA website database.  

It was easy to miss.  A tiny checkbox on the profile page you had to set up in order to get your DNA results. Anna hadn’t caught it and that small overlook made Kristoff’s results public.  It was how his aunt found him and it opened up a world of information.

His aunt’s name was Kathleen and she told him his mother’s name was Samantha. She had promised Samantha years ago before she died, that she would find him one day and tell him how much his mother loved him.  His aunt also had an unmatched drive for Kristoff to know what an amazing woman his mother was.  

As much as his mother wanted to keep him, she wanted what was best for her baby.  And what was best for him was giving him a family who could love and provide for him.  Her only request was for him to keep his first name because he was named after his grandfather who was willing to support his daughter even if she decided she wanted to keep her baby.  When Kristoff told his aunt his parents had also kept his last name that was on his original birth certificate, she was stunned.  It was a few days before she was able to email him back, telling him to thank his parents and that it would have meant so much to Samantha.

At first Kristoff was reluctant to tell Kathleen about Alex.  His mom encouraged him to share that with his aunt, but Kristoff still resisted.  It was Anna’s guidance that got him to change his mind.  “She’s family,” Anna said simply.  Kristoff relented and told Kathleen one of the reasons he was open to meeting his biological family was because he and his wife had just had a baby and he wanted to be able to share everything with her. He sent the email and attached a few pictures of Alex and a picture of the three of them for her to see.

Kathleen was overjoyed to be able to tell her sister’s story.  She said Samantha was so loving, caring and gentle. She had hoped that someday Kristoff would try to find out who his mother was and she had so much to share.  She told Kristoff that his grandparents had come from Norway and that Kathleen and Samantha were the first generation of Bjorgmans born in the US.  She told him stories about his grandparents and about the family history and suddenly there was a whole world beyond the data the DNA test had first given him.

He knew his mother had passed away from the beginning.  It was one of the first things Kathleen told him over email as if she was sending him a warning not to get his hopes up.  She had been gone for ten years and he accepted it.  But the more he learned about his mother, the more bittersweet it became.  He had more questions whenever he spoke with Kathleen.  Questions that she couldn’t answer and his mother held all the answers to. Kristoff found himself wondering what mundane thing he had been doing when he was eighteen on the day she died.

Kristoff asked about his father but his aunt, after some reluctance, admitted she didn’t know who he was. Samantha never told her, only saying once that he left as soon as she told him she was pregnant.  Kristoff could sense the bitterness in his aunt, so he dropped the subject. He had already found out so much and was surprised at how happy and fulfilled it made him.  It was enough for him.  He had a history that he could share with his daughter.  If Kathleen didn’t have the answers, the rest was a dead end anyway. And besides, he shouldn’t be wasting his thoughts on someone who clearly wanted no part of him.

Kathleen began sending random packages with pictures of Samantha, Kathleen, his grandparents- anything that she would come across.  He finally had a face to put to part of who he was.  Anna cried when she first saw a picture of Samantha, telling Kristoff how beautiful she was and how there was an uncanny resemblance between her and Alexandra.  Kristoff was happy to store these treasures away for Alex but there was a nagging question that he couldn’t shake.  Who was his father and did the son of a bitch leave a young woman in a bad situation without remorse?

[seriouslyhooked]

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 17/17

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I am back with the last official chapter of Some Call It Magic (though I do have an eventual epilogue crafted in my head already, so not to worry, the fluff is not completely over it will just take some time to get here). It picks up a few months after the last chapter and includes some of my favorite elements of CS happy endings that I have written many times before. I am sure some of you have guesses of what those might be, but nevertheless I hope that you all enjoy and thank you so much for reading!

Since landing here in Storybrooke all those years ago, Emma had grown accustomed to the seasons. The summers were warm but breezy, though a serious heat wave or two did show up once or twice. The autumn, her favorite time of year, was pure magic, but often over too soon thanks to their northern region’s propensity for the cold. And the winters… well they usually seemed to drag on forever. There were no mild March days, heck, there were usually still snow storms in April, but the long slog of winter had come and gone just as quickly as all the other seasons of late, and suddenly spring was here with the flowers and the sunlight and the renewed hope that life and vibrancy and joy were back within the natural world once more.

Of course Emma hadn’t lost any of that sense of warmth during her winter months, instead finding a comfort and a solace that she cherished more and more with every passing day. Things were good – no, things were fantastic – and they were only on their way to getting better. In a little over a month the day she and Killian had been waiting for what felt like forever for would be here. Their wedding was drawing closer and closer, and on the summer solstice (chosen specifically because Henry insisted it would bring good luck) Emma would be walking down an aisle dressed in white and saying ‘I do’ to the only man the world over who could ever entice her into such a life. She was ready for it too, more ready than she’d ever been for anything, and it was hard to find the patience for that next step, though the happiness that she and her kid and Killian had already found was the surest cure to her wishing for more. Things were damn near perfect in the Jones/Swan household and Emma truly appreciated just how lucky she was to have any of this at all.

“If you keep daydreaming like that I’m making you put a dollar in the jar.”

Ruby’s teasing voice cut in from across the kitchen and Emma grinned as she looked up from the cookie dough she’d been absentmindedly tossing together, not bothering to argue that she had been distracted. It was just so easy for her mind to wander towards how good things were, and if that meant Emma had to fork up a few extra bucks a day and put them in a jar that Ruby had designed so that they could raise the funds for them and all their friends to go on a trip next year, then so be it. As far as Emma could tell it was a win-win: she got to linger in the happiness that was her life and invest in a vacation for all their friends that had been years in the making.

“Didn’t I hear you on the phone earlier?” Emma asked with a knowing smirk. “You know technically the rules include stolen conversations with your husband as being jar worthy too.”

“Fair enough. We’ll call this one a draw,” Ruby acquiesced and Emma only laughed, glad for the humor of it all and the genuinely joyous fact that Emma wasn’t the only one with a happily ever after to keep her occupied. All of her friends had found loves to hold and keep forever and that was a special thing indeed. “That being said your time is up, Ems, and Mary Margaret is adamant that we get our asses out there. Also apparently if we fail to bring chocolate cake there will be hell to pay.”

“What else is new?” Emma joked as she grabbed the treat for their weekly lunch and followed Ruby out into the café. Little did she know that this gathering was about to reveal quite a few new things all at once.

“Wait, so Will is moving here? Just like that?” Ruby asked, playing up her shock when Emma knew she was anything but. Everyone had seen how swiftly the connection had formed between Killian’s friend and Belle over the Christmas holiday and in the months following. It was just a matter of time before one of them relocated, and since Belle had always loved this town and her friends and family here, Emma had never imagined that she would be the one to leave.

“Yeah, just like that,” Belle said with a cheerful smile. “Can you believe it?”

The friends all agreed that they could and offered their congratulations to Belle. Emma was actually even more excited if it was possible, not just because Belle had found her special someone, but because this meant that the last piece of Killian’s old life that he really valued would be coming back into place. Having Will in Storybrooke would no doubt be a comfort to him, and now that she thought about it, Emma doubted there was any way Killian hadn’t already known his friend’s intention. She made a mental note to ask him about that later, but then Elsa had some news of her own to share which distracted Emma from the personal musings.

“I’m going to ask Liam to marry me,” Elsa blurted out before anyone else could fill the silence, and at the proclamation and all the friends’ jaw’s dropped. They were each of them stunned into silence, a rare state for most of them, and it was obvious to Elsa that she’d truly surprised them all with her intentions. “What? I love him guys, you know that.”

“We do, Elsa, and he loves you too,” Emma said, finding her words first and trying to soothe the anxiety that their collective shock had sparked for Elsa. “We’re just surprised. Are you sure you want to be the one to ask? If Liam is anything like his brother – which we both know he is – then he’ll have it all planned. It’ll be perfect.” The other friends nodded their agreement but Elsa just sighed.

“I know, I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to wait anymore. All this talk of Emma’s wedding has just made it more and more clear to me that I want that too. So why wait? Anything could happen, so why waste time when we know it’s right?”

“You’re right, Elsa,” Belle agreed, taking her hand in a supportive gesture. “If this is what your heart is telling you to do then you should do it.”

Everyone else agreed with the assessment but there was one noticeable silence in the group and it came from a source usually filled with commentary, especially when it came to Elsa’s love life: Anna was currently sitting there fidgeting in her chair and avoiding the eyes of everyone, but most noticeably Elsa, and if that wasn’t a dead give away that something was afoot Emma didn’t know what was.

“Anna?” Elsa asked and Anna let out a flustered sigh before the walls she’d had up came crashing down and her words came flooding out.

“Oh God I swore I wouldn’t say anything, because Liam wants things to be a surprise, but if you ask him then it will mess things up and you really don’t want to mess this up, Elsa. He told me his idea and it’s like the story Mom and Dad used to tell us about Dad’s proposal only somehow sweeter. Trust me, sis, just a little more patience. If you can wait – oh sheesh, well I guess I’m giving it all away anyway. He’s proposing tonight. There I said it.”

All of the reactions of the friends ranged at that point, with Mary Margaret falling victim to those happy tears she was famous for and Ruby laughing boisterously as she claimed that she ‘knew’ there as no way that Liam wouldn’t be the one to ask. Meanwhile Elsa looked like she was walking on air, her smile was so wide and then she was standing up, probably on her way to go look for Liam when Emma pulled her back down.

“Not so fast, girl. This isn’t the kind of thing you want to rush. Let me send Killian a text. He’ll know every detail I’m sure, and we can maybe tell him to get a move on without totally giving away that you’re in the know now.”

“Thank you Emma,” Elsa said gratefully as Emma smiled and sent the text, hoping Killian would give her good news to give Elsa.

“Wow, so this is kind of a big day? Anyone else got any other announcements. Now’s your time,” Anna joked and at the same time Mary Margaret and Ruby began speaking, then they laughed and both told the other they should go first. In the end it was Mary Margaret who shared her news first.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, looking happier than she’d ever been and all of the friends burst with their excitement. For over a year she and David had been trying, and there were a few times when Emma had thought perhaps the stars were aligning and Mary Margaret was getting her wish, but to hear that she was really getting it now meant so much to every friend there. For Ruby, however, there was a different kind of reaction as she gawked for a moment before sharing her own news, which was that she too was expecting. One baby was one thing, but two new additions on the way left all of the friends completely floored and then all freaking out at once.

“Holy crap, seriously?!” Belle asked as her hands clapped together. “That’s amazing!”  

“It really is,” Elsa agreed with just as much happiness as she’d shown at her own incoming proposal. “But you guys being pregnant at the same time? I mean, what are the odds?”

“Well I’m thinking they were better than normal since I made it my New Year’s wish at the ceremony,” Ruby admitted, reminding them all of the protective spell they’d placed on the town and the people they loved as the new year rang in. 

All of them had participated in the new year ritual as they always did, but their usual goal of protecting the town and its citizens then ended with each of them offering one silent wish of their own as well. Now, all these months later, it turned out some of those dreams were coming true. In fact, it turned out that Mary Margaret had made the same wish, Elsa had wished to marry Liam, Anna had wished to see her sister as happy in love as she was with Kristoff, and Belle had wished for a way forward with Will. The coincidence was too much, but then everyone looked to Emma expectantly wondering what she wished for.

“So, what was it Emma?” Ruby prodded and Emma shrugged.

“I just wished that we’d all be happy and healthy and safe. I feel like I already have so much, I didn’t really think to ask for anything more.”

As she said the words though, Emma remembered one small part of her wish that had seemed almost trivial at the time. In the little fantasy that had played out in her head, the one where she and Killian were together with Henry as a family, it hadn’t been her house that they were living in. It was the big yellow Victorian not too far from the center of town that had long been a favorite of hers. Maybe it was silly, but she’d always pictured that as the setting for a perfect kind of living. She’d never been able to justify trying to live there if it was just her and Henry, and the owners had never given any indication that they were looking to sell, but now that Killian was a part of this family too and there was a chance that someday their family might grow, Emma couldn’t help but picture it and want to know if maybe the magic of the new year had blessed her over too.

Standing suddenly, Emma offered an apologetic look to her friends and said she’d be back after she went to check on something, and as they looked after her Emma moved through the door of Stay a Spell and headed off towards the house in question. It wasn’t a long walk by any means, but Emma felt this charge of energy coursing through her and she didn’t know if it was hope or anticipation that was getting the best of her, but she knew in her heart she had to come here. Maybe if she spoke to the current owners and just mentioned that she’d be willing to buy if ever they were looking to sell it would ease this sudden want in her, but as she turned the corner and her eyes fell on the house, the initial calm that it inspired was crushed by the sight of a big and bold SOLD sign out front.

“I’m too late,” Emma whispered and her stomach sank as the hope she’d just been feeling faded away.

Standing in front of this place that had long been a cornerstone of her secret dreams for a future life, Emma couldn’t help the twinge of sadness that came. She shook it away as best she could, knowing that it would never matter where they were, as long as she and Henry and Killian were together that would be the perfect home. Still, if ever there were a place to spend forever, to share a life, to raise a family… well this was the fantasy, and it had been for Emma for years now. Giving that up, even if it had never really been hers to begin with, was harder than she expected. All she could hope at this point was that the new owners would treat this place with the love and care that it deserved. Emma hoped this house held the happiness she’d always pictured here, and then she accepted the fact that next time, if a dream like this presented itself, she’d have to strike faster or risk losing out once more.

As that idea of letting this home go began to settle, however, Emma watched the front door of the house open up and two people exited onto the expansive front porch. To say they were the last two people she would have ever expected was an understatement, and then a prickling feeling of almost-awareness moved through her. Killian and Henry weren’t here by coincidence. Something was up with those two, and where they’d teamed up in the past, Emma had only ever found the most beautiful, thoughtful, and glorious results.

“Oh shoot,” Henry said a second later as he descended the front steps of the house and made his way to Emma’s side, but even as he said it, her kid shook his head and smiled like he wasn’t really shocked to see her at all.

“Henry?” Killian asked, after having locked the door behind him, but when he turned and saw Emma, Emma knew in her heart what was coming. “Emma! What’s brought you out this way, love?”

“It’s kind of a long story. We were all at the café and then I just ended up here…”

“Should have known we’d never keep the secret long,” Killian said with a chuckle before coming down and taking Emma’s hand in his. “Henry and I had other plans on how to tell you, Swan, but it seems that plan must change.”

“I still don’t understand,” Emma said, even though she followed enough to realize that this house she’d always loved was about to be theirs.

“Operation Our Home is a go, Mom. Killian and I agreed we needed a new place for all of us to build our new memories together, and we figured the best way to get you on board was to pick a house you couldn’t say no to.”

Emma worked hard to keep the happy tears at bay, but her throat was tight with emotion at the lovely sentiment. And they were absolutely right. She would never say no to this place because it was one that she loved so much. She just couldn’t get over these constant grand gestures. Yet even as she thought that Emma knew they would be a constant. Loving a man like Killian who was thoughtful and kind meant that she’d always feel this way. He was a man with his heart set on one thing, making her and her son happy and building a life with them, and as such Emma knew she was in for years and years of similarly spectacular moments.

“So what do you think, my love?” Killian asked as he pulled Emma into his arms, kissing her temple softly. “Can you picture forever here with us?”

“Yes,” she whispered before looking from the house back to Killian and then down to Henry. “Forever with you two is all I could ever need.”

So with that affirmation from Emma, the three of them all headed back into the house to take a look at the new home that was now theirs. As expected, it was gorgeous and filled with possibility, and over the next few weeks the three of them all crafted a plan for the beautiful future that would be had here for now and always. They added their little touches and unique imprints to make their new home all that it could be, and the best part of all was that Emma knew this house was destined to change and grow in the years to come. For this would be a house for a lifetime, a home for a family, and a place where she’d know the peace love and magic that she’d always wanted her whole life long.

…………….

Holding his wife as the swayed upon the dance floor the night of their wedding, Killian could safely say that he’d never known a joy quite like this.

True, he’d been saying that since the very first moment that he had met his precious Swan, but today had been different even by their incredibly high standards. For today, the two of them had stood before their friends, their family, and practically all the town and vowed to love each other now and always. They’d promised each other a partnership and passion the likes of which so few people would ever experience, and Killian knew in his heart that there was more to this than luck. This was, as Henry liked to say, fated from the start. He was meant to find Emma and love her always, and now he would finally have his chance.

As the music played around them, Killian hummed the tune, much to the amusement of his wife, but the soundtrack of his evening wasn’t the funny irony of Frank Sinatra singing about love and witchcraft. It was a loop of the vows they’d exchanged just a few hours before. All he could see was Emma in that transcendent moment when she became his and he became irrevocably hers. Dressed in the ivory lace gown she still wore currently, her golden hair pinned back but with loose tendrils in the front, and her eyes filled with happy tears that made those jade pools he was constantly lost in shine even brighter, Emma was an angel made real. She had been a true vision in the moment they were wed and remained so all evening long, making Killian keenly aware that he was the single most fortunate man the world over.

“Killian, for so long I was scared to even dream of letting someone into this life I’ve made for Henry and me. My past had taught me that love like this wasn’t in the cards for me, and so I shied away for it for a long long time. But thankfully my heart knew better – heck my kid knew better – and because of that faith and a little bit of magic, here we are.”

Those words had caused a stir amongst their audience, who had hardly been contained as the ceremony went on. Not that Killian was surprised. Between the noisy but thrilled tears of half of Emma’s friends and the commentary streams from Ruby, Henry, Liam, and the others it hadn’t been the solemn, sanctified wedding of tradition. But it had been perfect all the same, and Emma had let out a giggle at their antics that Killian still felt deep in his soul as she continued.

“Since meeting you, I’ve felt a change within me and I’ve sensed a shift in this life I always swore to protect. I thought before I had more than any one person could ever need, but I was so wrong. You’ve shown me the light that love brings in, and that magic can be more than I ever thought possible. Together I know we will build a life truly worth living, a life filled with love and laughter and today I get the realest blessing of calling you my husband. I couldn’t be happier for that, because it means I get to walk this path and start this journey with you, the man I love, the man who makes my dreams come true. I’ll love you forever, Killian Jones. Forever and then a little more.”

In the face of her sweetest words and promise of love Killian had been choked up himself, but despite what tradition might dictate, he was unable to simply dive into his own prepared words. Instead he’d pulled his almost wife and better half close for a kiss that wasn’t supposed to take place just yet. The hoots and hollers of their friends reminded them of that, but as he’d broken away and told Emma that she was everything to him, he knew the woman who held his whole heart so gently in her hand didn’t care about tradition. The happiness in her eyes was testament enough that they were in this together and making their own way, no matter what others might think or feel.

“Emma, from the moment we met there has never been a single second where I wasn’t sure that you would change my world. In an instant you anchored a restless a soul that had been wandering too long. I was lost out in the world, but the greatest cruelty was I didn’t even see how much I was missing until I was led here, to the home I so desperately needed.”

“See! He gets it,” Henry had whispered to Liam loud enough for everyone to hear and another laugh was shared throughout the space.

“Aye, lad I do,” Killian responded, turning back and nodding at Henry before looking back again to Emma and proceeding on.

“At first I thought the town itself held something special, something different. But you were the change I needed, Swan. You were the love I’d never hoped to find and through all you are and all you’ve given me you have made it impossible not to love you. In truth, I can’t express just how deep that love goes, for words cannot contain all that I feel. Just know that with every passing moment my love for you grows, and every day I thank God for all we have because you were willing to take a chance, and because fate intervened and showed me the way to the only life I could ever want.  What we have here is more than magic, Emma. It’s something meant to be, and I swear to you that I will cherish you and our family for this day and all my days forever more.”

With those sacred vows now out between them, Killian hadn’t feel any less charged with emotion, and that was only made more real and tangible when Emma too broke form and pulled him in for a kiss before their officient could give them both permission. It was perfect though, every single detail of it, and the party that followed with all the well wishers in their life was beautiful too. It was an evening under the stars, lit up by lanterns and twinkling lights in the same glen on the property of their new home where Killian had proposed at Christmas. Here now wildflowers blossomed, some from the summer season itself, but others magically crafted by Emma and her friends. Fireflies too flashed in the wooded area just beyond, and the subtle sound of waves upon the shore sounded from the beach not too far away.

This was, by every kind of measurement, a runaway success, a wedding to remember, but the only thing that gnawed at Killian was that in all of the festivities Emma and Killian hadn’t had the chance to really be alone. It had been more than twenty-four hours, in fact, since he and Emma had spent the night before their wedding apart, and though he was assuaged on some level by holding her in his arms as they swayed across the dance floor, his heart yearned for the chance to steal Emma away and show her just how much he loved her.

“How much trouble do you think we’ll get in if we make a run for it now?” Emma asked, her voice trickling into Killian’s thoughts and so closely resembling his own line of thinking that he had to grin as he pulled back to look into her eyes, his hand cupping her jaw as his thumb traced gently at the corner of her mouth.

“I’ve been assessing that very question for some time, my love.”

“And have you found any answers?” Emma asked, pulling him in closer by the dress shirt he was wearing so he was only a whisper away. “Because I’d really like to start my wedding night with my husband right about now.”

“Say no more, Swan,” Killian replied before surprising her and lifting her into his arms to carry across the dance floor and from the reception. The cheers that went out at the action were of a raucous if well-meant variety and after a brief check in with Henry, who was staying the night with Liam and Elsa, Killian brought his wife up the pathway from the meadow where they’d just held their reception and to the new home that they’d found together and crafted into a place perfect for them.

Tonight would be the first time that they’d spend in this house despite their owning it for about a month now. They could have moved in sooner, but Emma had made mention one night as they lay in bed together in her old house of how romantic it would be to have their wedding night be the first one spent in the place they’d be building their lives from here on out. Killian had decided in that moment that that was exactly what they’d do. He had no desire to deny his bride in any way, not when his surest form of pleasure was seeing Emma satisfied, but before he could take her upstairs and make love to her the whole night through, there was one last thing he needed from the woman he loved – and he felt his hands begin to shake after he’d carried Emma through the threshold and put her down in their home.

“There’s just one thing left, Emma, and I know it’s a little out of the ordinary in terms of a wedding present, but I was hoping I might ask for mine specifically.”

Emma looked a little puzzled at his words, and then looked surprised when he pulled out a file of papers from a drawer there in the living room, but upon reading what they said, tears filled her eyes and a small smile graced her lips before her hand flew up to cover them. She scanned the lines, trying to be sure of what she was reading, before looking back at Killian with so much love it almost hurt to see it and not sweep her upstairs right now.

“Today you’ve already given me the world, Emma. Becoming my wife, joining our families, it means everything to me, and I never want to pressure you or Henry, but just as my love for you sprang from our first encounter, so too did my love for your son.”

“Our son,” Emma said happily. “Killian this is – God it almost feels like too much, but it’s not, it’s perfect. I know Henry would love to have you as his Dad officially, and nothing would mean more to him than to be a Jones too.”

“You really think so?” Killian asked, hopeful that Henry would be amiable to the idea but never wanting to take the boy’s approval of him for granted.

“I know so,” Emma said with a firm sense of assurance that couldn’t be denied. Then she put the papers back on the side table next to them and pulled Killian in close once more. “And I also know that I can’t wait another second to be with you, Killian. So please don’t make me wait.”

“Never,” Killian promised before they made their way upstairs and to the master suite all laid out and arranged for this evening and the life they’d share here.

Part of Killian felt like the familiar dance of stripping off the layers between them moved too quickly even as it seemed to take an age to reveal his wife to his hungry gaze. With deft fingers Emma had removed all the garments that kept her from him, but when it came to be his turn Killian tried to take it slower. He wanted to commit every element of this to memory, from the way Emma’s wedding gown slipped off her a little more when each button was undone, to the reveal of the barest scraps of white lace underneath that left him even more crazed for her. Every second that past was another moment to hold close forever, but perhaps none struck his heart as surely as when Emma flashed him a knowing grin as her hair hung loose around her shoulders. She had never looked more poised and confident and sure of herself and of him, and that was all he’d ever wanted since meeting this remarkable woman all those months ago.

“Much as I love the way you’re looking at me, I can only take so much waiting tonight,” Emma said, moving back into the bed and bidding him to follow like a moth drawn to a flame. “I need to know that this is real. I need you to show me.”

“Nothing’s ever been more real than this, Emma, and I’ll spend the rest of our lives and then some proving that to you.

Killian punctuated each of those words with kisses against her skin, first at her lips then down her jaw, trailing a teasing path that didn’t exactly hurry, but built momentum towards what his wife ultimately needed. Emma thought hard and fast was the answer, but with a whole life ahead of them Killian had no intention of speeding up the clock. He’d savor every moment, taste every part of her, and sate every need his Swan could possibly conceive of, and then he’d do it again and again before the sun was up. That was his duty as her husband, and Killian would never back down from his honor and his right to lay the world at Emma’s feet.  

With the aim of satisfying both of them in mind, Killian found the balance between sweet and torturous tension that would soon lead to release. He let his hands roam across the expanse of her soft skin, tracing underneath the flimsy bra that she still had on her and feeling her intake of breath. Moments like this were intoxicating, stronger than any high he’d ever felt. Some might say it was like being caught up in a spell that she had cast months ago, but Killian had never felt freer or more alive than when he had Emma in his arms like this. Feeling her writhe beneath him as he stripped her of the garment that stood between them and brought his mouth to her breasts, Killian held back the moan at the back of his throat that came from Emma’s earnest pleas. Hearing his name tumble past her lips over and over mixed with words of her love and her need were almost too much to bear, and when he knew he had her frenzy building higher and higher his hand trailed down, slipping past the lace between her thighs and sinking home to her waiting sex, finding Emma already at the very edge of climax.

“Killian.”

His name this time was barely more than a whimper, caught up in the feeling as she was and Killian looked up to find her eyes closed as she chased the feeling of bliss that would come when he let her fall apart. Perhaps a stronger man would have waited, would have prolonged that state for the sake of more payoff down the line, but Killian couldn’t. Instead he swirled his thumb against her clit with just the right amount of pressure to have her clinging to him as she broke apart in his arms, reveling in how freely Emma gave herself and how undeniable her trust was that he would never steer her wrong.

Seeing Emma in such a state only fueled the need within Killian further. He was aching for his own release, but unable to comprehend it just yet. If this was going to last and he was going to get his fill of his beautiful wife he needed to be patient and draw this out. He did this by slowing back down to a languid speed, kissing his way down Emma’s body and leaving the faintest of marks as he went, much to Emma’s pleasure. Sated as she’d seemed a few moments before, it didn’t take long for Killian to rile her back up again, and by the time he was positioned between her thighs ready to take her with his mouth her eyes had filled with that same glint of need and her skin flushed pink with heat and desire. Then he ripped off the last remaining piece of lace keeping Emma from him and she swallowed harshly, fighting to find words because even in their most intimate moments her wit couldn’t be contained.

“And to think I thought you’d like those…”

“Like isn’t the word I’d use, love, but they were in my way and you know I don’t stand for anything that keeps us apart.”

With those words spoken between them and the responding look in Emma’s eyes that said she felt the same way, Killian descended towards her slick flesh and Emma caved to the sensations in an instant. Time had taught Killian exactly what his Swan desired and every flick and suck and lick was purposefully meant to stoke the flames she felt within. It was all done in the hopes of watching her shatter again, and by God he did, but before he could send her tipping over for a third time she pulled him back with her hands in his hair and shook her head, trying to silently say what she needed before she found her words.

“I need you with me this time, Killian. Please.”

That one word rendered him powerless to resist Emma’s wishes, not that he’d ever want to. He was at the edge as it was, but when he’d slipped home and filled her in one solid thrust that state of mind-numbing lust shocked his system once again. She was so damn tight it cast out all other thoughts from his consciousness. They fit together like they were made to be one and every time they made love was more powerful than the last, but tonight was different. Tonight they were man and wife and the comfort and peace that came from that was matched only by the adoration Killian always carried for Emma and the endless love he felt for the woman who had transformed his whole world.

Eventually, despite his plans to make this last as long as could be, they came together, crashing into ecstasy side by side and panting for breath as they did, but they both knew it was just a short reprieve. They’d be like this all evening, wrapped up together, neither of them letting go when all they wanted was this closeness. If they slept at all it would be a miracle, but who needed sleep when they could have a love like this instead?

“So… is this the part where the guy and the girl live happily ever after?” Emma asked, her cheek resting on Killian’s shoulder as her fingers traced a delicate design along his chest. Killian smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before replying.

“Aye, love. That’s typically how these stories go. At least that’s what they tell me.”

“According to Henry our story has a few more characters on the way,” Emma said thoughtfully and Killian felt his heart skip a beat at the mention of more children. He hadn’t wanted to say anything or push Emma to go faster than she was willing, but by bringing it up he had to believe she was more ready for that step than he’d originally anticipated and God knew he was just as willing to start that journey together.

“Well it is our destiny it seems. And if we’ve such a destiny ahead of us then perhaps we better get a move on,” Killian murmured as his fingers trailed up Emma’s stomach lightly, bringing out goose bumps as he did.

“We actually might already be there,” Emma whispered and Killian’s eyes flew up to hers, searching for an answer. “I haven’t taken a test or anything, but I’m a few days late and last night I had the strangest dream…”

“A dream, eh?” Killian asked, biting back a smile since dreams seemed to have a very powerful implication in this family.

“Yeah. It was eerily similar to some I’ve only ever had once before.”

“And when was that, love?” Killian asked, though he already knew in some way where Emma was going with this.

“When I was pregnant with Henry. Before all of this I might have thought it was just a coincidence but now…”

Would wonders never cease? Killian couldn’t imagine how one day could bring all of this joy into an already happy life, but here he was feeling like the universe just kept on giving. A wedding, a wife, a son, and possibly another child on the way… Could there be anything to describe this other than that he lived a charmed life?

“But now,” Killian said as he took Emma’s hand in his and kissed it lightly. “Now we know not to question your magic, my love.”

“Or the magic we make together,” Emma said with a laugh and Killian couldn’t stop himself from laughing too as Emma clarified her statement. “Okay I’ll admit that was cheesy, but I figure we get a pass because it’s true love right?”

“Aye, love, the truest love that love can be.”

And the beautiful thing was that it was a pure and unyielding kind of love, the likes of which are ripe for magic and joy and every good thing. Years would come and years would go, and in the life that Emma and Killian built together, their love, and the magic it inspired, always seemed to follow. Good things came, and trials came too, but in the end it was a happy union that the two of them shared together, and thanks to the strength of their love and the unbreakable bond they’d created by saying yes to their hearts’ desires, that magic would never die and never waiver, instead extending to their children and their children’s children for generations and generations to come.

Post-Note: It is always so bittersweet to come to the end of a story, especially ones like this one where not only was it a joy to write, but it clearly was a new favorite for a lot of my lovely readers. So I just want to thank each and every one of you who reached out about this story in any capacity. Whether it was reviews, comments, messages, or what have you, you guys fed the muse even through the driest spells of my PhD program and for that I am so grateful. As I said before, there will undoubtedly be an epilogue (or a couple epilogues) to come for this story, because how could I ever not show a better glimpse into the happy ending a few years down the line? But I just don’t know when that will be at this point. It might have to wait until my next school break but it will come. Anyway thanks again, I really hope you all have enjoyed and be on the lookout because I have plans for a new AU coming out in the new year and many more oneshots to boot. Thanks again, and happy New Year!

[julystorms]

The men in power were from the old government. They were the ones running the world. But now look at who holds the highest authority, Historia, oh and guess what she's a woman. Eren and Reiner who both hold the title of protagonist didn't make number one Mikasa did, oh and she's a woman and pretty much stronger than half the males there. Also as the other anon stated Maria, Rose and sina. So I doubt Isayama is as sexist as you make him out to be.

Dude, separation of writer and text, thanks. I stated that in another post earlier today. Whether or not Isayama is sexist has nothing to do with the fact that his world is sexist. I try not to include writer opinions in my interpretation of a text; it’s not always relevant. (Yes, you can choose to interpret these things with the author’s intention (or author’s opinions, however unconsciously they exist) in mind if you want to, but I actively choose not to.)

Moving on. I want to address your comments re: SnK as a sexist (or not) world.

1.) Historia is a puppet queen. She has no real power. I’ve discussed this before. Darius Zackly is the one who was actually in charge the last time we checked and God knows how many cronies he has working for him.

2.) One female character who ranks #1 in a class of badassery does NOT mean that all women are equal in the world. I mean, for fuck’s sake, she’s an Ackerman: a science project born with special talents. If Levi wasn’t in the story at all, I’d maybe give him a few points for Mikasa being a badass and not needing a male counterpart to balance her strength but nope, she can’t just be strong on her own merit alone or the only special female character. (Not that fandom wouldn’t call her a Mary Sue if she wasn’t balanced out by Levi anyway but ya know. Fuck fandom.) For a real life example how about the US women’s soccer team? 

3.) Legendary/mythical/important women are great but they don’t make the world somehow less sexist just because they exist. I have two things to talk about in regards to this:

The first is the Bible. You don’t think there aren’t a lot of women in the Bible? You don’t think every good little Christian learns about prominent figures like the (Virgin) Mary and (Other) Mary and Elizabeth and Deborah and Sarah and Anna and all of the other women who appear in the Bible and mean something? Play important roles? You don’t think little Christian girls latch onto those women ‘cause it’s the only positive representation they get? You don’t think those SAME LITTLE GIRLS (and boys!!) aren’t taught to be sexisT AS FUCK THROUGH the use of women like Delilah and Jezebel? Taught to hate women like that? Shown them as Bad Evil examples of What Not to Be? Hell, even Rahab is used as an example that Wicked Women Can Change Their Ways and Gain Favor with God–not by helping Joshua’s spies and doing what she feels in her heart is the right thing* but by changing her career (whether or not Rahab ever had a choice is never discussed). Oh, and don’t forget Lot’s wife who turned into a pillar of salt. Boy howdy Christianity has lots of ladies!!! But it’s also a religion that has by default rooted itself so goddamn deep into the patriarchy and sexism that it’s become more toxic than I can even parse properly.

*don’t get me started on the canaan land y’all.

So cool, let’s go back to SnK. SnK has three walls (objects, hello) named after women that are kind of like goddesses of a religion that is scoffed and laughed at by most of the population within the walls. The wall cult is crazy, they say. HELL, THEY CALL IT A CULT for fuck’s sake. It’s also a religion that isn’t real? It’s a front for the fact tHAT THERE ARE TITANS IN THE WALLS. Don’t damage the walls it’s our religion lol (but really we don’t want the titans to get out.) Pastor Nick knew this (and notice that it was a man privy to this secret, not a female religious leader).

Also, I mean, there have been lots of historical queens. It didn’t make their countries or people any less sexist. HM. WONDER WHY.

Literally every person in this series with REAL POWER or control over others? Is a man.

I’m not talkin’ Team Leader Nanaba here; she has very little power. 

I’m talkin’ actual power. I’m talkin’ can make a big order and have people follow it under penalty of being accused of treason or worse, or has the kind of money to make a difference. I’m talkin’ Dot Pixis, Erwin Smith, Nile Dok. I’m talkin’ Darius Zackly, whom these men all answer to. I’m talkin’ the noblemen that we see who supposedly were abusing their positions (and yet no noblewomen talked about or even, iirc, in the throne room when Erwin’s about to be hung). I’m talkin’ a fake king and Rod Reiss. I’m talkin’ Reeves. I’m talkin’ Magath and all the men in Marley at their big important meetings. I’m talkin’ about the fact that every council meeting we see, every military meeting we see, we’re LUCKY if we see even one woman in the room, and many times we don’t see a single one. When Eibringer walks into a room to play cards and smoke/drink and hands his duty over to Marlowe, he goes into a room full of other men. When all the bigwigs are in meetings? Again, men. 

Who cares if Marley has Pieck, Gabi, Annie, Zophia? They have no power. They’re all being used. They’re little more than slaves, and we don’t even know how many of them volunteered for the job or were forced into it via coercion or otherwise.

And who cares if Paradis has Mikasa graduate her li’l class at #1? Has Nanaba in a team leader position? Gives us Rico (who is also an elite team leader)? Rico takes orders from Kitz who takes orders from someone who takes orders from Pixis who takes orders from Zackly. Nanaba takes orders from Mike who takes orders from Erwin who takes orders from Zackly. And hey, they gave us Marlene, who served no real purpose except, idk, to die; she doesn’t even count. She was made to tease Hange and die horribly. That’s not power.

Mikasa is physically strong. She’s an awesome female character who has seen some lovely character development in this series. But…where is her power? Her ability to influence thousands of other people? It’s not there. She’s strong, and she can make a difference, but she lacks that influential power–the kind men have in this series. Women don’t rule this world. Men do. 

Women are not equal to men in SnK. If they were, you’d see a 50/50 split of women in the trainee corps, women in roles of power, women as merchants. You’d see stay at home dads. You’d see women wearing pants and skirts as casual wear in equal measure. Notice that you don’t. Notice that every shot of random characters is almost entirely random men. Think about it. It’s not equal.

And Mikasa’s existence in the series doesn’t balance out the fact that she lives in a sexist world. She shines because she chooses to, not because she lives in an equal-opportunity world where women and men are treated exactly the same.

[angelicspaceprince]

The Doctor’s Lines

Author: Anna

Title: The Doctor’s Lines

Pairing: Doctor/Time Lady/Lord!Reader (9-12)

Character/s: 9-12 Doctors, Time Lady/Lord!Reader, Gender Neutral!Reader, mentions of and actual various companions cameos, few OCs

Word Count: 5, 222 words

Warnings: Nothing but fluff and cringe-filled pickup lines. There is a minor mention of depression in one of them.

Tags: elyshakate

Notes: I know I’ve been a way for a while and I’m sorry, uni and stuff. But thanks to the amazing inthisformiambadwolf and their amazing Ten/Reader story called To Have and To Hold, and their other stories too (check them out guys like seriously, they are all perf), plus the current marathon I’ve been having has led to this. I’m hoping this will lead to either a series or be a trial run of a Doctor/OC fic I’ve been thinking of. We will see what happens. Also, I don’t have access to any Classic Who…so it’s all from 9 to 12. You also be married (aww.) Also, sorry its jumpy I’m working on a fic idea so its kinda put into this as well so practice run? Also some of them (like the Snowmen episode) I chopped a massive bit out because I was going off of memory and didn’t have the time/energy to fix it, but if this does become a series and I do use these scenes again, then I’ll just rewrite as I can. Also, sorry about the shit title, I kept changing it. Still not happy with it, might change it later.

Buy Me a Coffee

The Doctor’s Lines

You had been married the Doctor through nine regenerations and ten faces, so you’d think you’d know him like the back of your hand by now. But every now and again, he’d pull something new out to keep you on your feet. And with his tenth face, his stupid, big-eared, leather-jacket-wearing face, his love of puns also formed its way into the form of extremely cheesy pick-up lines.

The first instance of this was just before you met the lovely Rose for the first time. When travelling by 1837 to view Queen Victoria’s coronation ended up with the two of you on the run from a small group of rogue fish-like aliens. His hand in yours, pulling you along somewhere were the two of you could recalculate your position.

“Doctor, over here!” You call out, pulling him towards an empty shop at the end of the street. Closing the door behind you, you simultaneously release a sigh of relief. You take a few steps back as his hand leaves yours as the Doctor goes to investigate the shop. “Alright, what now? Clearly, they are scared and trapped here. Not an invasion, we just need to figure out how to communicate with the-”

“Hey love?” You spin around to see your husband sending you a cheeky grin. “You had me at cello.” He declares proudly, holding the neck of the said instrument. You try to hold back your smile.

“Not the time, dear.” You state softly as he puts the cello away. He pouts.

“I thought it was clever.” He looks over at you and you try not to laugh at the fully-grown man sending you puppy-dog eyes.

“It was very clever love, I’m very proud.” He perked up, grabbed your hand and started to plan what to do next.

~

After that, it was like the Doctor made it his personal mission to find the cheesiest and worst pick-up lines to use on you. His next body was more flirty, and loved to think he was smooth.

The two of you raced down the corridor, trying your best to avoid DALEK fire. The two of you wait in the corner, waiting for a clear path out. “You alright, Doctor?” You quietly ask as you keep a look out.

“Fine, fine.” He mutters. “Ready?” You hum in agreement. “Before we go, here, hold this.” He holds out an empty hand. You turn to look at him, his hand, then back up to his grinning face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You think you are so smooth.” You grab his hand anyway as he begins to pull you away.

“I think you’ll find that I am so smooth.” His face turns from saucy to pouty again. You quickly kiss his cheek before the two of you take off running once again.

“You are so lucky that I love you.”

~

During one of your more quieter days was when the bow-tie wearing Doctor retook up his hobby of bad pick-up lines. After attempting to fix the Doctor’s fiddling with the TARDIS, you were taking her on a test flight when you felt two arms wrap around your waist. He kisses the side of his head as he watches over what you were doing.

“I bet 20 credits that you’ll turn me down.” He whispers into your ear.

Without hesitating, you place 20 credits into his hand and work your way out of his grip, moving to check another part of the panel, fighting a smirk. When you look up, you snort at the look of disbelief still plastered on the Doctor’s face.

“You alright, dear?” You can see what just happened computing in his brain as you grin. Feeling slightly bad (not really) you saunter over and pull him down for a kiss by his suspenders, trying to wipe the look off of his face. “I love you Doctor.”

“I love you too.”

~

The big eared Doctor wasn’t impressed with you. After you had saved Captain Jack Harkness from certain death, the two of you got into a massive argument. You were still fuming over the stupidity of the fight and were too hot headed to apologise, demand an apology or try and talk out the situation. Knowing this Doctor the way you do meant you seriously doubted that you were going to get an apology, even though it was equally both your faults.

You turn onto your side and pull your blankets up to your chin as you curl up on yourself. You just wanted to sleep and tomorrow forget that today ever happened.

You hear someone shuffling along the corridor outside your door, causing you to retreat into your warm hideaway just as they gently knock on your door. Once. Twice. You hear a sigh before something is slipped underneath your door.

You try to ignore it, but curiosity eats away at you until your feet lead you to the door almost automatically. The fancy, thick paper has clearly the Doctor’s messy handwriting scrawled in the middle. You hesitate before seeing what he has to say.

‘If I had a star for every time you brightened my day, I’d have a galaxy in my hand.’

You wanted to stay mad as you bit your lip, he was a jerk after all. But as the blood rushes to your face, you release that in this generation, this was the apology you wanted. Or as good as you could get anyway.

You open the door to see his semi-sheepish face looking back at you. “Ready to go?” You look back down at the paper before nodding, leaving your room with your arm through his.

“You are a massive sap, you know that right?”

~

You rolled your eyes at the Doctor as he rushes around the TARDIS, trying to back her up to get the side of the Titanic out of her. “Why did you have her shields down anyway?”

“I was rebuilding her!”

“Doctor, the last time you were rebuilding her, you froze her Chameleon circuits!” When you don’t get a response you huff and move to move the TARDIS for him before putting up the shields once more. “Doctor, its like you are a white dwarf. Extremely hot, but not very bright.” You mutter to yourself. His saucy look returns as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“You think I’m sexy?” You raise an eyebrow.

“And overconfident.” You add sarcastically. “Go get changed, I want to go dancing on the Titanic.”

~

Today was just one of those days. The Doctor had just gotten his sight back, which was a relief, but he was already getting into trouble. After the situation was resolved with the Ice Warriors on Mars, you were helping the Doctor, Bill and Godsacre finish the message to be seen in the future when the Doctor looked over to you, excitement clearly plastered over his face. ‘Oh no,’ you thought as he walks over, ‘he’s got a bad one coming.’

“Do you live on Mars?” He asks as soon as he is close to you. “Cause you are out of this world! Ha!”

“Proud of that one?” You ask dryly.

“Extremely.”

“Good, glad one of us is.”

~

You look out for Donna as she searches for her perfect man now that everyone has been evacuated from the library’s computer. It had been a long day, not quite defeating the Vashta Nerada (you did need to be gone within the next twenty hours, but you weren’t going to be eaten so you were kinda in a stand still at the moment), losing River and briefly losing Donna drained all of your energy as you morn the loss of yet another innocent person in your life.

The Doctor could tell that you just wanted to sleep and forget today had happened, your body language was enough to alert him that you probably weren’t going to be wanting any amazing adventures any time soon. Still, he wanted to make you feel better as he came to stand next to you.

“There was nothing we could have done.” He offers. You hum. He’s right, River had knocked you out and chained you to the wall, you probably would still be there if Lux hadn’t walked past twenty minutes later. “We got her saved into the computer, we might be able to get her out one day.” You simply look at him.

“Doctor, I love you, but we both know she is stuck there for the rest of the CAL’s life.” He nods. “But she is alive.” Silence rings between the two of you before he grasps your hand.

“I have a library card, do you mind if I check you out?” He smirks for a second before looking down at you worried. “Sorry, I’ve been meaning to say that all day and I-” You cut him off, laughing lightly.

“They just keep getting worse.” You chuckle before laughing harder. The Doctor smiles. You were going to be okay.

“I was thinking somewhere relaxing for our next trip, less running and so on. Do you think Donna would like a spa day?” The Doctor offers as you look at the disappointed Super Temp returning to where you were standing.

“I think so. Have any spa in mind?”

“Thought maybe Midnight, the diamond planet?” You nod.

“Sounds like a plan.”

~

Clara, the Doctor and you landed in the middle of the snowy forest, you instantly start shivering. The Doctor starts rubbing Clara’s arms to warm her as she complains and he explains the heat loss filter would kick in soon.

“I wish we had actual clothes.” You offer as Clara walks off and he turns to give the same treatment to you.

“Do you know what this shirt is made of?” The Doctor offers, trying to hide his excited smile. You sigh, another one was coming up.

“Technically, you aren’t wearing a shirt.” You try to defuse the inevitable cringe-worthy, cheesy line that was going to come next. He pouts, ignoring Clara as she walks closer towards the hand in the snow. “Fine, what’s it made of?”

“Boyfriend material.” He declares proudly.

“We are married, you complete and utter dunce.” You state fondly as you give him a quick kiss.

“You look cold. Want to use me as a blanket?” He offers as you take a step back.

“Seriously, why are you like this?”

“Clara step away from it!” You both shout at the same time, the hand grabbing her ankle.

“Don’t look away from it, it’s a Weeping Angel.” You explain. “It looks like a statue, but isn’t a statue. Can you get out?”

“Only if I get out of my shoe.”

“You’re not wearing a shoe.” The Doctor reminds her.

“Good point.” She continues to struggle.

“Doctor, help Clara, I’ll keep an eye on the Angel.”

~

Donna was dying for a coffee and would not leave the TARDIS before she got it. Which was okay, meant you and the Doctor had some time together just walking the streets of London. It didn’t happen often, usually you were running around, saving lives and planets. It felt almost strange to be standing in a Starbucks waiting for your coffees.

You had gotten pretty good and noticing when another line was popping up, the Doctor’s eyes if not face would light up with excitement when he hears to thinks of a new tacky pick-up line. But you were certain that something as simple as coffee wouldn’t cause him to think of a new one.

Oh how wrong you were.

“Do you work at Starbucks?” He starts as you sigh, waiting for the end of this. “Because I like you a latte.”

“Where do you even find half of these? Do you have a book hidden somewhere or what?” You grab the coffees and walk out. “If you do, I’m going to burn it.”

“No you don’t!” He looks at you offended. “I thought you loved my pick-up lines.”

“Yeah, sure.” You roll your eyes.

“I love you.”

“Love you too. Where are we off to next?”

~

You were being marched down the corridor towards God knows where, looking around for the TARDIS, the Doctor, some kind of sign or signal that he was on his way to save you. “What are you looking for?” One of the guards demanded.

You pause. “You could say that I’m looking for my Mr. Right?” You offer right before a large chunk of the wall exploded, causing the six of you to fly against the opposite wall.

“Hi, I’m Mr. Right. I heard you were looking for me.” The northern accented Doctor makes his entrance as you make your way onto your feet.

“How long have you been sitting on that one?” You ask as he sonics your cuffs, releasing you from your chains.

“A while.” He admits. “Come on!” He pulls you away as you start to run towards the TARDIS and to safety.

~

You know you had done the right thing, Missy was both the Doctor’s and your friend, no matter what her previous regeneration’s actions had been. But going from adventure to adventure to being stuck in the University thanks to Nardole’s insistence that the TARDIS be more or less turned off.

The three of you were getting on each other’s nerves, thirty-five years of doing pretty much nothing. The Doctor was fine, he could teach. You on the other hand, as a married woman in the 1910, weren’t allowed to teach. Being in Wales didn’t help either.

Things were already getting tense, the Doctor couldn’t stand being in one place for too long and was becoming insufferable. The latest argument exploded over something minor said when you were found, yet again, trying to enter the TARDIS for something to do. The Doctor sided with Nardole, and after years of putting up with his attitude due to his boredom, you snapped.

In hindsight, there were better ways to deal with it, and you probably should have taken that path, but after been turned down from job after job due to your marriage, being told by both of the men that you couldn’t go see Missy because it was too dangerous even though they went in to see her almost daily and the Doctor not making an apparent effort to try and understand your frustrations at all, you couldn’t handle it. So, after a screaming match that would have woken up all of Cardiff if it wasn’t for the TARDIS’ covenant sound-proofing, you stormed out.

You had been walking around the town aimlessly, purchasing the few necessities you had run out of as you went to try and keep yourself busy as you worked off some steam. You had been walking for hours, the sun had gone down and you left at noon, before you finally made your way back to your shared apartment, where Nardole was pacing the living room and seemed to be a bit stressed.

“The Doctor and I have been looking for you.” He scolded lightly as sat down on the worn out couch. “After you didn’t come back after his next class, we both started to become worried. It’s not safe for you to be out on your own.”

“It’s Cardiff.” You rolled your eyes. “I was fine.”

“What about James Marks, eh? Could have run into another fellow like him.”

“The guy that exposed himself to a female with apparent intent to harm? Please, I’ve faced DALEKS, I can face a human criminal.” You looked over to him. “I get that you and the Doctor care, but you can’t assume I’m going to run off. I was trying to find something to do, the Doctor is an University professor and you are his valet. I have nothing. Can’t do anything, can’t help in anyway. Do you know how frustrating that is?” He thought for a second.

“Maybe we could open up a small business to keep you busy?” He offered. “That’d be nice, just something small to keep you occupied and make a little bit of extra money on the side.” You paused, trying to think of what you could do.

“I think that could work. Thank you Nardole.” You smiled over to him before you suddenly saw a small envelope on the table in front of you. “Who’s this?”

“Yours I think, the Doctor left it for you when he went out looking for you. I stayed here in case you came back.” Nardole sat next to you as you opened it to pull out the thick paper. Circular handwriting looks back at you as you read the Gallifrean.

‘I love you. And I was wrong. Your beauty makes the morning look like the dull glimmer of the moon.’

You smiled, cheeks reddening slightly as Nardole looked over your shoulder. “What’s it say, then?”

You paused, trying to think of what to say before you realised what it actually was. “An apology. It’s an apology.”

~

Your bow-tie wearing Doctor was out of the TARDIS, which was good. He had been stuck up there since the Ponds were taken by the Angels, which devastated you but the Doctor….the Doctor took it harder than you did.

The snow was something different, as it fell you had an eerie feeling that something was wrong. You were sure the Doctor did too, but he didn’t want to frighten or make you think that he was trying to find some alien mystery when there wasn’t one.

The Doctor wasn’t the same when the Ponds were taken, you made sure to go down and see Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax at least once a week, at the very least to get an update of London and you’d give them and update of the Doctor. You then had something to tell him, to distract him, even if it didn’t work until Vastra called saying someone said that the one word used to describe their problem was pond. That got him on the case quick smart.

So, here you were. Strax was struggling with the memory worm, the Doctor was telling him off, the governess that had the issue and you were giggling at their antics. The Doctor looked over at you to shut up as Strax, yet again forgets the gauntlets, which caused you to raise an eyebrow and continue giggling. He rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and turned to Clara.

“Don't come looking for us. Forget about us. You understand?” He warned her before pushing her into the carriage, retaking your hand once he stepped back.

“What about the snow? Shouldn't we be warning people?” Clara insisted, looking over to the two of you.

“Not my problem. Merry Christmas. Take her back where we found her.” He instructed Strax after brushing her off and started to lead you away, the both of you hearing Strax’s ‘sir, ma’am’ behind you before he takes off. You moved to link arms with the Doctor to stop him from dragging you off.

“Doctor, we both know that if it’s a human problem, then it’s your problem.” You gently stated, trying to hide a smirk as you realise that Clara was, indeed, following the both of you. “Humanity could be in danger, and normally you make it your responsibility to, ya know, save them.” He frowns.

“No, not this time.”

“I know you are upset, luv, but we need to keep doing what we do.” The glare alone was enough to stop the words in your mouth. “Okay, just know whatever you decide to do I’m supporting you all the way.” The two of you walked in silence for a bit as you watched the snow. “Snowmen, low telepathic field. Very alien.”

“Y/N.” He warned.

“Yes dear.” You placed your best poker face as the next sentence formed in your head. “I must be a snowflake, because I’ve fallen for you.” The Doctor’s face tightened as he tried to hide his smile.

“Really?”

“I miss the pick-up lines.” You confessed. “But I love you.” You stated firmly as he pulls down the ladder and offered you his hand to lead you into going first. He kisses your temple as you grasp the rails of the ladder.

“I love you too.”

~

Visiting Van Gogh was partially difficult. You had a bit of a past with depression, and seeing the great artist himself caused a whole lot of feelings you didn’t want to address to reappear. After rereturning to the gallery post seeing his reaction to his paintings in the 21st Century, you caught Amy crying in the TARDIS.

“Amy? Are you okay?” She wiped away her tears in an attempt to hide her reaction to your current adventure. “Oh, come here sweetheart.” You pulled her close in an attempt to console her, the both of you sat on the stairs in the control room. “What’s wrong, love?”

“After everything we did, what we showed him, why did he still do that?” You hummed, understanding her confusion.

“Depression….it’s like herpes.” She looked at you really weirdly. “Hear me out. You have your oral herpes, your cold sores, that go away with time. That’s some depression. Then you have herpes herpes, the bad kind that never goes away. You say ‘tomorrow, I’m going to do all these changes, I’m going to keep up to date with my meds and make my life a better place and I won’t have herpes because of these changes’. The next day, the herpes are gone. But the virus is still there. The symptoms, they come back and sometimes they come back with vengeance.” You paused to pass her a tissue as she dabs her eyes. “The same thing is with depression. In the case of Vincent, it’s a disease that never truly goes away, he might have felt better for a month or two but the disease came back. And it got worse. But he kept his paintings because he knew they would help people in the future, and he knew you’d go see them one day. And do you know what.” You pulled yourself away and smiled down at her. “I bet you that he thought of you and how ginger your kids would be until the day he died.” She laughed a little.

“Did we make him happy?”

“Yes, I think we did.” She nodded, pleased with that answer.

“I think I’m going to go to bed.” She said after a few minutes of quiet thinking. “Good night.”

“Good night Amy, we will see you in the morning.” You let her to go her room without any fuss, knowing that she would be fine and in the later stages of grieving in the next few days. Getting up, you walked over to the control panel and started to plot where you would ideally like to visit next, even though the Doctor and TARDIS probably had other ideas.

“Are you okay?” You looked over to see a very nervous-looking Doctor. “I noticed that…..at the gallery….you seemed to be struggling.” You smiled over at him as he came up to hold you tightly.

“I’m fine. Just had a few moments where I needed to readjust myself.” You push away at the hair covering his eyes. “Thank you for worrying.”

“Always.” He kisses you lightly. “You know, if a thousand painters worked for a thousand years, they could not create a work of art as beautiful as you.” You rolled your eyes, smiling softly.

“Do you know what? I’m just going to take that.”

~

Bill was having the time of her life out on the ice, viewing all the different things that 19th Century Britain had to offer. Meanwhile, you had lost the Doctor. You kept careful guard of your sonic screwdriver, the only valuable you had, as you wander the streets looking for him. People bombarded you with advertising, entertainment and pleading for spare change and assistance, to all you said no to. You knew the game, you weren’t losing anything.

It wasn’t until a Scottish voice behind you scared you out of your guarded state. “Hello, are you married?” You turned to see a grinning Doctor.

You hesitated. “Yes….?”

“I didn’t hear you say happily.” You let out an annoyed sigh as you slap his chest lightly.

“I’m married to you, you twat!” You exasperated.

“I know. Lucky you.” You shake your head before linking arms with him and walking off in an attempt to refind Bill.

~

The Child was beginning to freak you out. Super strong, able to communicate through phones and God knows what else, all of them was setting you off when you realised that you were in the Child’s room. Jumping through the hole in the wall provided by with Jack, you are tossed the banana the Doctor placed in place of his gun. “Don’t drop the banana!”

“I won’t!” You called back out as Jack and Rose asked why.

“Good source of potassium!” Doctor called back. “Hey, Y/N!”

“This better be important!” You moved up next to him. “What is it?”

“Are you a banana? Because I find you a-peeling!” He laughed at his joke as you punch his arm.

“Really not the time Doctor.”

~

Bill was home safe and you had just found out the Doctor had not, in fact, regained his sight after fighting the Space Zombies from Hell. You weren’t happy about the lying but you were helping him adjust to his new blind status, even though you weren’t impressed that he decided not to tell Bill.

It had been a fortnight after the incident, and you had come up with a system that allowed you to communicate where he needed to move to avoid danger or to look in the right direction without anyone knowing you were doing so, and taught him how to read braille, along with coming up with a system in the TARDIS so the Doctor could find whatever he needed whenever he needed it. He knew you were still not impressed, but you were both coping with the new changes.

“Hey Y/N!” You popped your head out of the kitchen and into the hallway at the sound of the Doctor’s voice, wiping your wet hands on a tea towel..

“Yeah?!”

“I need you in the library!” The rich, accented voice rung out.

“Hang on then!” You ditched the towel and half-jogged, half-walked to the library. “What is it?” You saw him hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Can you come here please? I need you to read my palm, I’ve written something on there but I don’t know if its legible.” You sighed as you walked over and placed your head on his shoulder, looking over to see both of his palms empty.

“Doctor, there’s nothing there….”

“Ah yes, I didn’t expect you to see anything because love is blind.” You took a step back. “Y/N?”

“Okay, no, seriously, run because I am going to kill you.” He laughed at your reaction. “That was so bad it’s not even funny.”

“You love it.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that buddy.” He stood up and you walked over to face him. “In front. Are you sure you are okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m always fine. I’m the Doctor.” He tried to reassure.

“I know. That’s why I worry.” He smiled down at you as you stood on your tiptoes and gave the tip of his nose a kiss. “We’ll be okay yeah.” He pulled you in for a hug.

“We will always be okay, I promise you that.”

~

After Vampire Fish in Venice, you needed a break. All you wanted was to watch a little bit of Netflix and relax with some junk food and maybe a nap between shows.

Rory was cool with that, he needed just a little bit to not so much process or accept, but just think over what had happened during the last 48 hours. Amy and the Doctor, on the other hand, wanted to keep going.

“An hour. Just an hour of watching Netflix, then we can go.” You pleaded. “Or you two go by yourself and do something, Rory and I don’t mind, do we Rory?”

“No, no, you lot go ahead. We are fine here.” He agreed as Amy pouted a little.

“It’s no fun if its just the two of us.” They all ignored the Doctor’s ‘hey!” in protest as they tried to figure it out. “If we watch one movie, can we go after that?”

“Sure!” Rory and you both state together.

“I have to choose.”

“Don’t care, Amy’s choice. Up to you.” You nodded as you directed the couple to the entertainment room. “Come along Doctor.” You called over your shoulder.

Forty minutes into some movie from the 22nd Century that Amy said looked interesting, the human couple were sound asleep, Amy draped over her fiancé as the Doctor sat behind you, playing with your hair as you watch the movie, staring at you as you do so.

“Alright there, dear?” You question.

“Are you Netflix? Because I could watch you for hours.”

“Hun, I love you, and I appreciate the attempt, but that’s very creepy.” You pat his arm lightly.

“I tried.”

“And I appreciate that.” You pull him in for a kiss. “Now shush, I wanna see the end of this movie.”

~

It had been five months since the Monks had taken over Earth, and the Doctor had nearly finished rehabilitating the men that were keeping you ‘captive’. With your small army nearly ready, you had to prepare a way to figure out if Bill was still Bill, or had given into the Monks reprograming.

“I think out of all the aliens we have encountered, the Monks are the worst.” You complain as the camera is taken away from the room after another recording was demanded from the two of you.

“Was your father an alien? Because there’s nothing else like you on Earth!” You looked over to the soldier who said that with a slightly raised eyebrow as the Doctor’s attack eyebrows furrowed together to form a lethal stare of death.

“Don’t you start too. I’ve never gotten it out of him.” You indicated to the Doctor.

“You’re married? He’s old enough to be your grandfather!” That angered the Doctor even more, and you knew you had to defuse the situation.

“It’s all about the experience, love.” You sent over a cheeky wink as you noticed the slight victory smirk accompanying the slight red tinge on the Doctor’s cheeks. The soldier laughs it off and moves on to complete his other duties. “You alright, love?”

“Am I too old for you?” He asked as he pulled you close. He was normally against the hugging, but never with you.

“Never! I love you always, regardless of your age, you know that.” You played with the few loose curls at the back of his head. “Can’t believe it wasn’t you who said that.”

“I was going to, someday. I had it saved away for another time.” You grinned.

“Ah well, I’m sure you have more.” You pulled away. He grinned, the red beginning to fade.

“You are out of this world you know.”

“I know. Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[tomeandflickcorner]

OUAT Episode Analysis- Murder Most Foul

Well.  That was unexpected.  Not sure how I feel about the ‘gotcha’ moment at the end, though.  I know they probably needed a bit of drama to drag the current CS storyline out, but...huh.  Maybe it’s best to reserve judgement until I see where A&E plan to go with this new development.

We start off with the night that Charming and James were separated as babies.  It turns out that during the winter, the brothers fell ill, and Ruth and Papa Charming (whose name is revealed to have been Robert) didn’t have enough money for medicine.  Cue DO Rumple, who offers to give them money for medicine, on the condition they surrender one of their sons to be raised by King George.  And I really love Ruth’s initial reaction to this.  She actually grabs a knife, ready to defend her two sons with her life.  (She did realize she was facing down a man who could reduce her to a pile of dust with just a thought, right?)  But Robert decides they have no real choice, as it’s the only way to ensure their sons will live.  So they, with great reluctance, agree to the terms, with James being selected via coin toss.

Apparently, that event is what led to Robert becoming an alcoholic, with him turning to the drink in an effort to escape from the pain and regret of giving up James.  He admits to the bartender at a local tavern that David, now six, deserves a better father than him.  At that moment, Robert is shocked when King George enters the tavern.  King George announces that his son, Prince James, had been abducted, and he’s looking for anyone who has information. Robert, wanting to help his biological son, decides to take it upon himself to rescue him.  And it was here that I started ‘aww-ing,’ as we see Little Boy David.  (He’s so adorable.)  It turns out this was the true story behind the tale Shepherd David will one day tell Anna. Little Boy David was under the impression that Malcolm was leaving home to recover from his alcoholism.  But in fact, he was trying to rescue long-lost brother James.  To give his father a little bit of luck, Little Boy David gives Robert his lucky coin. (Hmm.  Was this the same coin used in the coin toss?)

Robert makes his way to the Dark Castle to see Rumpelstiltskin, who reveals James actually ran away.  He gives Robert a ticket to the place where James went.  In exchange, Robert has to give up a hair from his head.  While DO Rumple initially implies he has plans for the hair, it turns out this was all an act and the ticket was a freebee.  Because Robert’s determination to see James reminded DO Rumple of his own desire to reunite with his son.  (Okay, fine.  You get a gold star today, Rumple.  I can admit when you act like a halfway decent person.)

The ticket, it turns out, allows the holder access to Pleasure Island of Pinocchio fame.  (Interestingly enough, sharp eyes can spot August was actually writing about the place at the end of the last episode.  Unfortunately, I can’t locate the post that pointed this out to me, so I can’t currently credit the sleuth for this observation.)  Anyway, Robert makes his way there, and is even able to resist the lure of drink in his determination to find James.  He does, however, have a run-in with Pinocchio, back when he was still a wooden puppet.  (Not sure how Pinocchio was around back then, as he’s only supposed to be roughly ten years older than Emma, who won’t be born for another few decades, but oh well.)  Thanks to that pesky trait of his nose being a lie detector, Robert figures out that Pinocchio saw James.  Upon locating Little Boy James, we see he’s completely different from his adult self. He’s just a gentle little boy who doesn’t want to become a knight and kill people.  Robert offers to bring Little Boy James to live with him, stating he’ll have a brother to play with.  Unfortunately, the people who run the place spot them trying to leave, so they have to make a run for it.  When they reach the docks, however, they find King George is there.  Robert identifies himself as Little Boy James’ real father, and states he has no desire to give up his son again.  As such, King George orders his guards to take Robert back to the mainland and kill him, instructing them to make it look like an accident.  

I guess this is how James was able to figure out he had a twin brother somewhere.  I’d always wondered how he seemed to know that information in the Underworld, despite King George never knowing there was a twin brother until after James’s death.  In any event, I feel even more sorry for James than I did before.  From the looks of it, all the negative traits he displayed as an adult were most likely due from being raised by King George.  If he hadn’t been stuck with such a nasty piece of work, he might have turned out differently.  (Seriously, A&E, can we please address those pour souls who got dropped into the River of Lost Souls?  It would leave a bitter taste in my mouth if the show ended with them still trapped in there.)

Flash forward to present day, with Charming leading the Nevengers in a toast commemorating Emma’s safe return from the Wish World and defying the vision of her death at Gideon’s hand. (And I got a huge chuckle from Killian toasting with his flask instead of a wine glass.)  However, when Charming later slips outside to mourn the fact that Snow can’t be present, due to the lingering curse on their shared heart, he starts to hallucinate, seeing an image of his dead father.  He then collapses for some reason.  Wasn’t really clear why, but I guess it’s because he’s currently sleep deprived due to his stubborn refusal to switch off with Snow until the incident with Gideon was dealt with.  (Does this variation of the Sleeping Curse prevent Charming from taking a non-cursed nap or something?)  Killian apparently noticed his friend collapse from the window, as he hurries out to check up on him.  But Charming is too high-strung to be accepting of Killian’s concern, and resorts back to his S3 attitude, dismissing Killian as a pirate.  Killian is visibly hurt by the snub, but backs off without a fight.  When Killian goes back inside, however, Charming notices something on the ground- his father’s lucky coin, the one he gave his father as a boy.

The next morning, we see Charming had taken Killian’s advice and swapped with Snow, as she pays a visit to Regina.  They talk a bit about Robin Clone and Regina’s decision to bring him into Storybrooke.  While I am a bit put off we didn’t get to see how Snow reacted to what Emma went through while she was out, I do applaud her for talking sense here.  Just because Robin Clone looks like Robin Prime, it doesn’t mean he’s the same person.  (Speaking of which, was Robin Clone sleeping in Regina’s living room?  With the size of Regina’s mansion, you’d think she’d have a spare bedroom on hand.  What are you using all those extra rooms for, Gina?)

Meanwhile, Killian, in a surprising turn of events, pays a visit to Archie’s office.  (Is this the first time they’ve interacted since the start of the Revenge arc/2B?) Turns out Killian’s still a bit hurt over the incident the night before and is worried that Charming still views him as the man he used to be, and that Emma deserves better.  Killian then admits the reason why he’s so concerned with how Charming views him is because he’s planning to propose to Emma.  (Insert the shrill squeeing of the CS fandom.)  But, old fashioned gentleman that he is, he wants Charming’s blessing first.  Archie assures Killian that everyone knows he’s a better man now, but suggests that Killian should just come out and ask Charming how he feels about him if he’s that worried about it.

Speaking of Charming, when it’s his turn to be awake again, he has another hallucination of Robert.  His father accuses Charming of forgetting about him, and Charming retorts that Robert was barely his father and was just a drunk he worked hard to forget.  When Charming demands Robert say what he wants, Robert says he wants ‘truth.’  This sets Charming off, and he’s now more determined than ever to solve the mystery behind his father’s death.  To achieve his goal, he decides to enlist Killian’s help when the man stops by to follow Archie’s advice.  Killian suggests that Charming might be better off going to Emma for help, since she’s the sheriff and has magic, but Charming refuses, stating he doesn’t want to worry her or Snow, and that they might not approve of what he might have to do. He then states he needs a pirate, completely oblivious to how Killian becomes crestfallen at his words.

They make their way to the Swan-Jones house, with Killian saying it should be empty, as Emma took Henry out on a canoe trip.  But he briefly balks when he finds out Charming is planning to steal some potion ingredients to conjure up a spell.  Gotta say, I’m with Killian on this one.  Magic isn’t something you want to mess around with.  At least not when you have no formal training.  It’s like operating heavy machinery.  If you don’t know what you’re doing, you could cause a lot of damage, or get badly hurt.  But Charming is not to be swayed and instructs Killian to stand watch. Killian, who is desperate for the man’s approval, reluctantly goes along with it.  At the same time, you see how upset he is about this.  While Charming is occupied rooting around the shed, Emma returns unexpectedly, as Henry forgot to bring the life jackets.  Which leads to a great scene of Killian trying to keep her distracted long enough for Charming to slip away.  A task that’s not easy due to Emma’s superpower kicking in. Killian is able to get away with a half-truth, despite how uncomfortable he is with not being 100% honest with her, talking about how her near-death had made him reflect on some stuff.  Obviously, we know he’s referring to his intent to propose, but he doesn’t let Emma in on that just yet.  In the end, Charming is able to avoid being seen by Emma and the two men head off together.

Back at the Charming loft, Charming and Killian proceed to conjure up a spell that will show them where Robert’s lucky coin was the day that he died.  (Insert cute moment with a beaker.)  Despite their lack of magical training, the spell works, pointing them in the direction of Pleasure Island.  Now that they have a lead, they go see August, who explains the last he saw of Robert was of him escaping Pleasure Island with Little Boy James, and that he never connected them with Charming.  The knowledge that his father had been trying to save his twin brother clearly stuns Charming.  August then explains that he took some pages out of Henry’s book waaaayyyy back in S1, as those pages chronicled his time in Pleasure Island, something he’s not proud of. He offers to look for them in case they reveal more about Charming’s father.

After leaving August’s place, Charming deduces who may have killed his father.  However, Killian, realizing that Charming is out for blood, tries to talk him out of it, as he knows better than most what a quest for vengeance can do to you.  Unfortunately, Charming takes this as a cue to handcuff Killian to a nearby bike rack in order to keep him from stopping him.  He then heads right to the psychiatric ward beneath the hospital, which I guess is now used to hold long-term prisoners.  There, he confronts King George/Albert Spencer, who admits he ordered Robert’s death.  Charming proceeds to challenge his former adoptive father to a duel to the death. But just as Charming gains the upper hand, Killian arrives, having broken out of the handcuffs off-screen, and quickly returns King George/Albert Spencer back to his cell.  Killian proceeds to try and talk Charming down, stating that while the man did admit responsibility for Robert’s death, he also told Charming that his father resisted temptation in the end, and became a father Charming could be proud of.  This leads to Charming to have a full-on emotional breakdown, admitting his fears that he’ll lose everything.  Killian then presents Charming with a choice.  He can proceed to kill George/Albert, but first he has to remember that Robert did everything in his power to be able to look his son in the eye. He asks Charming if he wants to be a man who can look his father in the eye, too.  With these words, Charming collapses and cries on Killian’s shoulder, completely overwhelmed.

Sometime later, Charming makes his way to the docks, where he makes peace with his father’s memory as he now knows that Robert did come through in the end, overcoming his vices. Killian, once again concerned for his friend, sticks around to make sure he’s okay.  Charming proceeds to apologize for his behavior throughout the episode, stating that Killian was the noble one that day, and that he’s sorry for how much he risked that day, including Killian’s relationship with Emma. Upon receiving confirmation that Charming believes he’s is good enough for his daughter, Killian gathers up the courage to ask for his blessing to propose to Emma.  After a brief pause that clearly makes Killian very nervous, a smiling Charming grants that blessing and the two men head off together.

However, that’s when the ‘gotcha’ moment happens.  When Killian is making his way back home to Emma, blissful that there’s nothing holding him back from proposing, he’s approached by August, who located the pages pertaining to Pleasure Island.  Even though he didn’t find any new information about Robert, he figured Charming might want them anyway.  Killian agrees to pass them along.  But after August leaves, Killian spots an illustration of Robert and is horrified to realize he recognizes him.  It turns out the two guards who were hired to stage Robert’s fatal ‘accident’ were interrupted before they could complete their task.  Killian, back when he was still the infamous Captain Hook (and apparently taking a slight detour during his time under Pan’s employ, as this took place when Charming/David was only six), had targeted the cart that was to be used in the frame-up with the intention of making off with some of the king’s gold.  In the processes, Hook kills the two guards and then, in a tragic turn of events, he proceeds to kill Robert as well, stating he can’t afford to risk the older man keeping silent about what he’d seen on his own.

So, yeah.  That stinks.  I think this is the first time we’ve actually seen Killian/Hook at his most ruthless. Up until now, while we have certainly seen him do some underhanded stuff, they just….never seemed all that bad to me.  Not that what he did in the past wasn’t bad, of course.  But there was always something that made it not seem unforgivingly bad.  It was usually just him reacting to something that set him off.  But this?  Yeah, this is completely different.  This wasn’t just another spur-of-the moment thing.  This was straight up cruelty.  I think this is the first time you actually can see why he earned the reputation he had as Captain Hook. And I am wondering how Charming’s going to react if he finds out this new tidbit about his future son-in-law. I admit, I won’t be surprised if he’s initially put off by this.  But I’ll also be disappointed if he doesn’t eventually come around and remember what he said about Killian in this very episode- that he has changed since then. Besides, it’s clear that Killian is deeply remorseful now that he realizes what he’s done, as he’s now back to feeling unworthy and therefore reluctant to propose to Emma.  And you know, seeing as Snow forgave Regina for killing her father despite there being nothing substantial to suggest she’s remorseful for it, I expect Charming to eventually forgive Killian for this as well.  Especially since Killian/Hook hadn’t realized he was responsible until just now.  Unlike Regina, who knew perfectly well she was killing Snow’s father, Killian/Hook had no way of knowing this man was the father of someone he’d eventually view as a friend and brother, as well as the future grandfather of the woman he’d one day fall completely in love with.

This right here, while it is an upsetting revelation, can also serve to be the final step in Killian’s redemption.  While he has admitted he’s deeply remorseful about the murders he committed during his time as vengeful Captain Hook, this is probably the first time he’s being directly confronted with the people who suffered because of it.  Sure, he’s faced down people he’s hurt in the past, like Ursula and Liam 2.0.  But those were either easy fixes or, in the case of Liam 2.0, more about putting an end to a vicious cycle of blood and revenge.  This time, there’s no easy fix.  Granted Robert was going to die regardless, but Killian/Hook had the chance to spare his life and didn’t take it.  As a result, he unknowingly caused a lot of pain for people he would one day love dearly.  When he gathers the courage to admit the truth to Charming and Emma, and they forgive him for it (because it’s obvious they will, with the only question being how many episodes it’ll take), it’ll be symbolic of Killian being fully absolved of his past.

Come to think of it, I think it’s a huge testament to Killian’s character that he was able to recognize Robert when he saw the illustration.  Just think about it for a moment.  When he killed Robert, the man was nothing to him.  As far as Hook/Killian was concerned, he was just some random stranger that was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  And yet, he is clearly able to remember what that man looked like, even though it’s been years since that night.  I can’t see how anyone wouldn’t find that impressive.

Meanwhile, in subplot B, Regina, following Snow’s advice, starts trying to help Robin Clone acclimate himself into Storybrooke.  Unfortunately, Regina gets momentarily distracted by Zelena popping by to say she won’t allow Robin Clone anywhere near Baby Robyn, stating he has no rights to his sorta-daughter.  (I know, dead horse, but technically you shouldn’t have any rights to her, either, Zelena.  You know, seeing as how you were Robin Prime’s rapist.)  By the time Zelena leaves, Robin Clone has gone and scarpered. While out and about, Robin Clone runs into Keith/Sheriff of Nottingham.  (Ah, so I guess he didn’t die at the end of ‘Lacey.’  I’ve always wondered if Gold beat him to death after the cutaway.  Looks like he didn’t.)  Regina steps in before Robin Clone could kill him, but this leads to a small confrontation between the two, which leads to Regina stating that, even if Robin Clone didn’t regret killing Keith now, he might later on.  Okay, I’m completely okay with that line.  It’s nice to see brief glimpses of redeemed Regina.  If only they weren’t so rare to see.  And it gets better.  When Regina takes Robin Clone to her vault to tend to his hand, which was slightly injured in the struggle with Keith, we learn that Regina still hasn’t returned the hearts she collected. Finally, someone addresses that! I’m starting to like Robin Clone. He actually calls Regina out on stuff. Regina even states she knows she sounds like a hypocrite.  (Did I mention I really like this Regina subplot?  How’s that for a novel concept?) However, Regina insists she has changed, (then why haven’t you gotten around to returning those hearts in your possession to their rightful owners?) and that she brought Robin Clone back with her because she was hoping she could be a part of his fresh start, too.  The two proceed to kiss, but it’s visibly obvious Regina feels something is off about the kiss.  It doesn’t feel the same as when she kissed Robin Prime.  Regina later talks to Snow about the matter. (So we get two scenes with Snow’s interactions with Regina in this episode, but none between Snow and Emma? Yeah, that’s lovely.) She begins to acknowledge that this isn’t her Robin.  But that leads to her wondering who this Robin Clone is, and what he could possibly want.  That question is made even worse when we see Robin Clone swiping a fancy-looking box from Regina’s vault. What he plans to do with it remains a mystery at the moment, but I doubt it’s good.

(Click here to read more Episode Analyses)

[haleyfury]

Is it that much of a surprise that this reader and fangirl has an anticipated releases list solely dedicated to contemporary books? As per usual, I am excited for SO many new contemporary books in 2020 across YA, new adult, and adult fiction. And never fear, I have another anticipated releases list with all the upcoming non-contemporary books I’m most excited about coming next week.

YA

The Map From Here to There by Emery Lord

Release Date: January 7

The much anticipated sequel to The Start of Me and You, I have a feeling I’ll be rereading The Map From Here to There (live love my love for Max Watson) at some point in the new year, after reading it for review in 2019.

Tweet Cute by Emma Lord

Release Date: January 14

Hype for Emma Lord’s Tweet Cute has (appropriately) been all over YA Twitter, and I really want this one to be one of the first 2020 releases I pick up early next year.

The Gravity of Us by Phil Stamper

Release Date: February 4

I’m so excited to read The Gravity of Us because it sounds super unique! It follows two teenage guys who are the sons of the astronauts involved in NASA’s first mission to Mars.

Of Curses and Kisses (St. Rosetta’s Academy #1) by Sandhya Menon

Release Date: February 18

Sandhya Menon is seriously blessing us contemporary YA readers in 2019 with two new books! Of Curses and Kisses is the first book in her new fairytale retelling series set at an elite boarding school.

Anna K by Jenny Lee

Release Date: March 3

An Anna Karenina retelling, Anna K sounds so extravagant. Many bloggers have especially loved its Gossip Girl and Crazy Rich Asians vibe.

Harley in the Sky by Akemi Dawn Bowman

Release Date: March 10

Many readers absolutely love Akemi Dawn Bowman’s Starfish, making me even more excited to pick up that and her upcoming release, Harley in the Sky. After a huge fight with her parents, Harley joins her family’s rival circus group to perform as a trapeze artist.

We Are the Wildcats by Siobhan Vivian

Release Date: March 31

The most anticipated book on my list, I have been basically waiting for another Siobhan Vivian book since I finished Stay Sweet in 2018. We Are the Wildcats has me especially intrigued thanks to my field-hockey playing self.

Time of Our Lives by Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka

Release Date: April 21

Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegemund-Broka have spoken a lot about their own long-distance relationship during college, so I’m especially excited to see them enter the college YA world with Time of Our Lives. Time of Our Livesmore-so focuses on the transition from high school to college.

Chasing Lucky by Jenn Bennett

Release Date: May 5

One of my top three releases on this list, I couldn’t be more than excited for Jenn Bennett’s Chasing Lucky. I love anything and everything about her books, but I’m so, so excited for Jenn Bennett to explore one of my favorite settings, A BOOKSTORE!

Bookish and the Beast (Once Upon a Con #3) by Ashley Poston

Release Date:  June 16

Ashley Poston’s Once Upon a Con series is such a fun blend of contemporary and fandom. I’m really excited for her to take on the Beauty and the Beastretelling with this third book, Bookish and the Beast! This is one of my favorite book titles ever!

10 Things I Hate About Pinky by Sandhya Menon

Release Date: June 30

I had a feeling while reading There’s Something About Sweetie and Ashish that Pinky would be the next protagonist to take on the ‘Dimple and Rishi’ world.

Love & Olives (Love & Gelato #3) by Jenna Evans Welch

Release Date: July 7

Jenna Evans Welch’s Love & Gelato and Love & Luck are two of my favorite summer contemporary books, so I’m really excited to see her expand this world with Love & Olives. I might’ve not read a book that takes place in summertime Greece since reading The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series!

Untitled/American Royals #2 by Katharine McGee

Release Date: Expected September 2020

Although American Royals #2 isn’t 100% contemporary, set in an alternate United States with a monarchy instead of democracy, I’m so excited for this book that I’m going to likely include in every anticipated releases post ever. There’s no official synopsis or title for American Royals #2, but I’m so interested to see where it begins, especially considering book #1’s jaw-dropping ending.

Untitled by Morgan Matson

Release Date: Expected 2020

Since Morgan Matson has published a new book every two years, it’s expected that her latest novel will come out this year. Her books usually come out between May and June. I don’t even need a synopsis in order to pick up one of my all-time favorite authors’ books, but I always end up loving her premises anyway.

New Adult & Adult

Wild at Heart (The Simple Wild #2) by K.A. Tucker

Release Date: March 3

I did not expect there to be a sequel to K.A. Tucker’s Wild at Heart, but I was so pleasantly surprised while watching one of Kristin of Super Space Chick’s News & Stuff videos. There aren’t too many details just yet, but it will follow the main characters from The Simple Wild, Calla and Jonah.

The Honey-Don’t List by Christina Lauren

Release Date: March 24

Christina Lauren became one of my go-to authors in 2019. What makes this book even more of a go-to read? It’s about a book tour!!

Beach Read by Emily Henry

Release Date: May 19

I’m excited to continue my new-found love for adult romance with Beach Read. This one sounds super unique, following a romance author and literary fiction writer’s summer together trying to get over their writer’s block.

Undercover Bromance (The Bromance Book Club #2) by Lyssa Kay Adams

Release Date: March 10

The Bromance Book Club was one of my favorite 2019 book reads, and I need the companion sequel, Undercover Bromance, ASAP! I’m really glad we don’t have to wait a year, since The Bromance Book Club just came out in November.

You Deserve Each Other by Sarah Hogle

Release Date: April 7

There a ton of enemies-to-lovers stories, but You Deserve Each Other is instead a lovers-to-enemies story following two fiancés who are doing anything to avoid their lavish wedding- and the nonrefundable bill.

The Heir Affair (Royal We #2) by Jessica Morgan and Heather Cocks

Release Date: June 16

Another unexpected release, but another way I am BEYOND excited about, I know I need to reread The Royal Webefore jumping in The Heir Affair. Live love more royal contemporary in 2020.

Honorable Mentions

Lucky Caller by Emma Mills | Release Date: January 14

How to Build a Heart by Maria Padian | Release Date: January 28

A Castle in the Clouds by Kerstin Gier | Release Date: January 28

Together We Caught Fire by Eva V. Gibson | Release Date: February 4

Running by Natalia Sylvester | Release Date: May 5

Influence by Sara Shepard & Lilia Buckingham | Release Date: June 30

A Cuban Girl’s Guide to Sweaters and Stars by Laura Taylor Namey  | Release Date: expected 2020

What contemporary books are you most anticipating in 2020? Any of the above? Any that I didn’t mention? Share in the comments!

Anticipated 2020 Releases: The Contemporary Edition Is it that much of a surprise that this reader and fangirl has an anticipated releases list solely dedicated to contemporary books?

[avanneman]

Amy Chozick’s Chasing Hillary: You don’t have to be a pr*ck to work for the New York Times, or the Clinton campaign. But it helps! A LOT!

Newspaper reporters are not like you and me. They believe newspaper reporters are important.

That’s one of the takeaways from Timesgal Amy Chozick’s new opus, Chasing Hillary Ten Years, Two Presidential Campaigns, and One Intact Glass Ceiling, a political campaign book with a difference, because it’s more about Amy than about Hillary, about how a compulsively over-achieving Texas Jew from the sticks fought her way up to the tippy-top of the journalistic food chain so that people could shit on her.

That’s Amy’s picture of life at the top: everybody hates you. Your “colleagues” try to undermine you, because they want all the good stories for themselves. Your “sources” try to crush your spirit, make you their bitch, so that you will write what they want you to write. People are always trying to “get in your head”—make you afraid, psych you out—but it’s also an accusation—“Are you getting in my head?” which is somehow seen as horrible, even though, as Amy tells it, that’s really the whole point of life in the Big City, to make others subservient to your will.

The “One Intact Glass Ceiling” line in the title (probably the publisher’s idea) has encouraged a number of ax-grinding reviewers to seize on Amy’s book as proof (as if they needed any proof) that the mainstream media were in the tank for Hillary. But they were just looking for a hook, an angle. Amy wanted Hillary to win, not because she liked her, but because the election of the first woman president would a Great Story, which Amy would write! And thus, in her own mind, become immortal.

The old-fashioned dream/fantasy of some reporters that, if the media reports "the truth" the people will make the "correct" decisions, in the voting booth and elsewhere, is largely absent from Amy's world. However, she does feel that she, and the rest of the media, were deeply "burned" by the Russian/WikiLeaks hacking of the Democratic National Committee emails. The hacking, not the DNC's inside gossip, should have been the story.

Although Amy tells us “no one else could fascinate and inspire and infuriate me all at the same time the way Hillary could,” I never got the feeling that that was true. Chozick seems to have no interest at all in Hillary’s “ideas”1—what she stands for—and thinks of her almost entirely as an awkward yet remarkable obsessive compulsive who has willed herself into the national spotlight out of sheer ambition (like Amy?), one who, moreover, deeply distrusts all reporters in general and hates Amy Chozick in particular.2

In fact, there’s plenty of reason for Clinton’s distrust, for, as Amy tells it, there’s nothing Amy likes more than embarrassing people, though she’s always bewildered when they resent it. One of her most favorite “scoops” occurred when she learned that the Clinton Foundation, to obtain Natalie Portman’s appearance at an international event, bought a first-class ticket, not just for Natalie, but for Natalie’s dog! For both Amy and her editor, Carolyn Ryan, the cream of the jest occurs later, when Republicans reference the ticket for Natalie’s Yorkie in a fund-raising pitch. Because that’s why Timesgals get up in the morning: so they can help Republicans raise cash.

In the real world, of course, the Clinton folks probably felt lucky to get Natalie for the price of a first-class plane ticket for her dog, instead of, you know, the price of a first class plane! “A big one—the kind you can stand up in. He has terrible claustrophobia.”

When Hillary 2016 was just a glimmer in someone’s eye, Amy wrote a cover story (a cover story!) for the New York Times Magazine, “Planet Hillary”, filled with both la-di-da graphics and zingers (many of which she recycled for this book), which began as follows:

“Hillary Clinton was nodding solemnly to the mother of a 9/11 victim when Huma Abedin, standing across the room, called out, “Let’s load!” to the staff members and bodyguards. The former secretary of state had yet to pick up her award from the Voices of September 11th, but her entourage was already preparing to shuttle her off to the next event, a benefit for God’s Love We Deliver, which was co-hosted by the designer Michael Kors and where she would sit next to the Vogue editor and former Obama bundler Anna Wintour.”3

So, to summarize: “Sure, 9/11 mothers are important, but we’re talking Anna Fucking Wintour here! Move your crab-ridden ass!”

In her story, Chozick organized dozens of Clinton folks into various categories, from “The Inner Circle” and “Chelsea Patrol” to “The White Boys” and “Poseurs”.4 For some reason, Team Hillary, aka “The Guys”, didn’t appreciate being held up to public ridicule in such a manner and demanded a meeting with Amy, who tells us that “I apologized. I said I’d try to do a better job next time and I’d be more careful moving forward. But that just pissed The Guys off more. The shrinking violet act and all.”

At the same time, Amy tells us that she feels she was set up, innocently reporting intramural backstabbing and payback as fact, which sounds sort of like, you know, bad reporting to me.

As you might guess from Amy’s opening paragraph, Amy likes to think of herself as an across the tracks gal, who had to fight her way up from nothing to make it in the Big Apple, her path blocked every step of the way by entitled Ivy League pricks and shits, but her specific motivation isn’t revealed until she goes to a Hillary rally at Washington Square (in New York City), where Hillary is passé and Bernie is le dernier cri:

“I dove into the crowd like an anthropologist, eager to understand why young women, in particular, weren’t With Her. But as I talked to so many students from NYU—and as their mouths moved and I followed up with “What’s your major?” and “How do you spell Delilah?”—I was secretly seething with resentment. I’d wanted to attend NYU ever since our seventh-grade Hobby Middle School trip to Washington and New York.”

But NYU cost $25,000 a year back then, so Amy has to settle for UT instead. But now, all of a sudden, confronting these Bernie chicks, she’s proud: “I looked at these twiggy, unshaven girls living in the West Village on their parents’ backs. … My envy began to fade. I’d been a brat.” Of course, she’d been living in Austin—which somehow manages to think of itself as cool—on her parents’ backs, with a ring in her nose—“a silver loop too big for my face that sat in a dollop of pink pus on my left nostril.” Well, you’re only young once, and she was saving her dad $21,000 a year.

Unlike conventional campaign books, which describe, you know, the campaign, Chasing Hillary is largely about Amy, about the frenzied, pointless exhaustion of covering a presidential campaign—driving down deserted roads at midnight during a blinding snowstorm to cover a meaningless speech in Wherethefuckarewe, Iowa, pigging out on junk food until your fat pants don’t fit you, wearing the same clothes for three days, losing any semblance of control over your Jewfro5—but it’s not all about her. Chozick has some shrewd things to say about Bill and Hillary—in particular, the extent to which they did sell out to Wall Street, for both political and personal reasons. She describes accompanying the Clintons on a philanthropic tour of Africa, staying at the Saxon Hotel in Johannesburg, once the palatial residence of South African billionaire Douw Steyn. Bill, naturally, has his own private luxury bungalow: “Yeah, I always feel slightly guilty staying over here,” Bill tells her. “But I get over it.” Hey, livin’ good and doin’ good. You can’t beat that!

In 2008, Amy caught Hillary saying some interesting things about NAFTA, which was still okay to like: “The benefits haven’t been uniformly distributed.” Unfortunately, she didn’t follow up on that. As Amy tells it, Team Hillary decided that they didn’t need angry white guys, even though, clearly, the electorate—a large chunk of it, anyway—was angry, as Hillary found out in the form of one Bernie Sanders. Chozick, because she didn’t trash Hillary 24/7, got a good taste of it in the form of endless emails from the Bernie Bros, ragin’ incels whose only form of sexual release seemed to come from calling women “cunts”.

Amy clearly believes that if Team Hillary had listened to Bill, with his old-fashioned ideas about going after working-class white voters, she would have won. I believe if she had used the State Department server, she would have won, comfortably. I also believe that if she had been a sensible secretary of state, persuading Obama not to invade Libya instead of invading it, she would have won going away. I also believe that if Obama had been more concerned with catering to the middle class, instead of pushing both for universal health care for the poor and entitlement cuts to please Wall Street, the ranks of Democratic governors and senators wouldn't have been decimated, giving Democrats more attractive candidates than an aging, battle-scarred figure loathed by many both on the right and on the left.

Chozick portrays Hillary as compulsive fund-raiser, even in the closing days of the campaign. Hanging out with the upper class at $10,000 a plate dinners is so much more relaxing than hand shakin’ and speechifyin’ with the many headed. She particularly puts a stick in Hillary for taking off most of the month of August to hang with her famous friends in the Hamptons, staying with Steven Spielberg and bringing Hillary’s two dogs along (“Masie, a curly-haired mutt, and Tally, a toy-poodle mix”), which strikes Amy as particularly over the top—“I mean, who brings their dogs?” Amy confesses that she herself and husband Bobby have taken an occasional weekend in the Hamptons as well, but I guess sans dogs, sometimes staying at “Daunt’s Albatross” (which definitely is cheap). “When the motel didn’t work out, we did what Bill, Hillary, and most of New York did: we mooched off rich friends.”

Well, in August 2016 Hillary and Bill did mooch, but in the past they rented their own place, but Amy still won’t give them a break. “Previous summers, when the Clintons rented their own beachside estates, Hillary’s brothers, Tony and Hugh, and the entire extended family showed up—the moochers of the moochers. (A grocer in East Hampton told me he saw Roger Clinton buying milk in a track suit).”

Bitchy much, girl friend? If the Clintons rented their own place, they weren’t moochers. If Amy’s sister stayed with her in New York, would she be a “moocher”? What is proper attire for buying milk in East Hampton, a blue blazer and white flannels? Or is the point that wide-assed hillbillies like Roger Clinton don’t belong in East Hampton in the first place?6 That’s the worst thing about snobbery: it’s catching.

Afterwords Ever industrious, and ever ingenious, Amy not only wrote a book recycling her coverage of Hillary, she wrote an article for the Times about writing the book: “How Does a Political Reporter Write a Memoir? First, Read Books. A Lot of Books.”. I confess that I haven’t read that article, but I have read her book, so I’ll offer a few suggestions for the second edition:

—Said of Carolyn Ryan: she “had New England newsprint in her blood.” The cliché that Amy’s groping for here of course is “printer’s ink”.

—“the youngest of two daughters.” Try “younger”.

—When Hillary gets pneumonia, according to Amy “the virus became a status symbol,” and quotes editor Carolyn as joking that people are infecting themselves with “pneumonia bacteria” to keep up. Props to Carolyn for knowing that pneumonia is caused by bacteria7 but none to Amy for not knowing that viruses and bacteria are not the same thing.

—Amy also talks about “pulsing” veins. I know that “vein” has traditionally been used to mean both arteries and veins, but it’s been almost four hundred years since William Harvey wrote On the Circulation of the Blood. Let’s get caught up.

—Amy repeatedly uses the word “suffragette”. Maybe this is second-wave feminism or whatever, but some gals prefer “suffragist”. Like “actor” instead of “actress”.

Amy shows a distinct lack of enthusiasm for dogs, which I am totally down with. I am known, in my building, as the grumpy old man who hates dogs.8 Which makes me wonder (though not really) why she made no mention of the fact that former NYT executive editor Jill Abramson celebrated her promotion by inaugurating a (long) series of columns about her dog “Scout”, which she then turned into a book, to which the Times devoted two highly favorable reviews!

Afterwords II, special nitpickers edition Like 99.07% of the population, Chozick says "lay" when purists like myself would say "lie"—as in "I'm going to lie down now." Almost 20 years ago I was reading a recipe online in the Times and came across the instruction to let two sheets of phyllo dough "lay open like the pages of a book". I immediately sent an email to the Times instructing them of their error and got a response thanking me for "holding us to our high standards" about 45 minutes later. Maybe I haven't been paying attention, but I haven't seen them make that mistake again.

There is no mention in this book of Clinton’s record either as a senator or as secretary of state, nor of any of Clinton’s policy proposals made during the 2016 campaign. Chozick defines "news" as whatever it is people want to talk about and is scornful of reporters who want to explore the issues in-depth. ↩︎

Hillary told people who “knew her when” not to talk to Amy because Amy hated her. ↩︎

Additional zingers: “It was just another hectic fall evening in Manhattan for Clinton, and she was keeping herself busy as usual in the “is she or isn’t she” interim. There were paid speeches to give (at $200,000 a pop) to the American Society of Travel Agents and the National Association of Realtors, filled with the wisdom gleaned from being the nation’s top diplomat (“leadership is a team sport” was one favorite; “you can’t win if you don’t show up” was another).” ↩︎

Robert Zimmerman, Johnathan Orszag, Matthew Hiltzik, and Declan Kelly, in case you’re interested. ↩︎

I did not know that “Jew hair” was a thing until a couple of months ago when I read a review of season 4 of *Broad City” in New York magazine, in which the topic came up. What really surprised me was that a Jewish girl would worry about her Jew hair in New York City. ↩︎

Rog does have a bit of a history of drug and alcohol abuse. So he should fit right in. ↩︎

Carolyn was probably/possibly remembering from biology class how Oswald Avery proved that genetic information is carried by the DNA molecule through a series of famous experiments using pneumonia bacteria. ↩︎

I don’t hate them, but I don’t have to love them, do I? Especially when they fucking bark at six fucking o’clock in the morning! Goddamn it! ↩︎

[ahtohallan-calling]

chapter 18 of love is the only thing we can carry with us (kristanna slowburn/angsty but cute/no magic au, rated t) is up!

next chapter // all chapters

“And that way, you see, someone of your bloodline can still inherit Arendelle down the line. Things will work out so very nicely in both our favors. So much neater than the alternatives.”

“And those would be?”

He poured her a cup of coffee. “There’s just one, really, but so many ways we could get there. It’s inevitable that one way or another, Arendelle will pass from your family’s hands-- whether I take it by force or your sister runs it into the ground, no matter what, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces for my own.”

“And if Arendelle didn’t need you or your kingdom’s support?”

He laughed, stirring in a lump of sugar and handing the cup to her. “You are so funny, darling, I think I’ll never tire of hearing your silly little ideas. How lucky I am to have won your heart.”

chapter 18: sisters

Get up, Anna.

Blackness was creeping in at the edge of her vision, unconsciousness rolling in like a fog. It was tempting to lean in to it, to let it consume her entirely. 

Get UP.

Another wave of crushing pain rolled through her chest; she would have been sick if she had been able to stomach breakfast that morning. Maybe this really was it; maybe that was what Hans wanted.

If you die right now, then you left him for nothing.

Anna staggered to her feet, stumbled over to the wall. She leaned heavily against it, waiting for her knees to stop wobbling. Once she was steady, or at least close enough, she started walking, unsure of where to go at first. No one could know about what had happened, but if she collapsed again and was on her own…

She gritted her teeth. She knew where she had to go. 

Getting up the stairs was the hardest part; she had to stop every three or four steps to catch her breath, desperately grateful that no one passed her way. From there, it was easy; she’d walked this path so many times as a child, in the dead of night or on holiday mornings or just when she wanted to check if her parents were still there.

They weren’t her parents’ rooms anymore, but the only family she had left was inside, whether she liked it or not. She raised a shaking hand and knocked on the door, slumping against it as an aftershock of pain rolled through her. 

By some miracle, Elsa was there. She pulled the door open, frowning, and Anna fell into her. 

“What happened?” Elsa gasped, catching her just in time. 

Anna couldn’t respond, too focused on staying upright. Elsa kicked the door shut and helped her over to an armchair; she slumped into it, her vision going hazy again. Cool hands pressed against her face, giving her something to focus on, something to cling to while she found her way back to solid ground.

When the pain finally subsided to a dull ache, she blinked and realized Elsa was crying, silent tears rolling down her cheeks and dropping heavily to the floor. “Sorry,” Anna whispered, her voice tremulous as she, too, began to weep. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

Elsa leaned down then, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and pulling her close. Anna hesitantly hugged her back; she couldn’t remember the last time they had held each other like this. She closed her eyes, letting herself be comforted by it, even knowing that by the end of the day they’d likely be at an impasse once again. For the moment, at least, it was an anchor, something to help her keep her balance while she prepared to take her next step.

---

Eventually, Elsa had coaxed her sister into lying down in the four-poster bed. It hadn’t taken long for Anna to fall into a fitful sleep, but Elsa had no intention to leave her side. She rang a bell to summon a servant, instructing him to cancel all of her meetings for the rest of the day and send up a pot of tea.

It was lukewarm now, she was sure, but it was the closest thing she had to an idea of how to help her sister. Anna had always loved tea; even as a little girl, she had insisted on drinking some with the adults, though never with more than a pinch of sugar. “Just milk,” she would insist, put out when the grown-ups tittered about how funny she looked holding such a big mug in her tiny hands.

Elsa had brought her some every afternoon back when she had first gotten sick, carrying the pot and cups on a tray all by herself, all the way upstairs from the kitchens, holding her breath to keep it steadier every time she turned a corner. Growing up, they’d still kept up the tradition on occasion, but as they had grown apart, Elsa focusing on matters of state while Anna learned...what had she learned? How did she not even know that? How long had it been since she had really talked with her sister? 

She realized, suddenly, that the last time they had even had tea together like this had been the night their parents had died. Anna had brought the teapot then, hands tremulous as she poured, and Elsa had let her do it, knowing that finding some way to make herself useful was the way she showed her love.

It struck her then, the terrible weight of what Anna was doing for her and for Arendelle, and suddenly Elsa found herself clambering up onto the bed beside her sister as she had when they were children and one of them had a nightmare. Anna blinked blearily and rolled to face her. “What time is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

Elsa shrugged. “I-- I’m not sure.”

Anna started to sit up then, but Elsa reached out, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You need to rest. Please.”

Her sister eyed her, clearly debating whether she had enough energy to start another argument; apparently, she didn’t, and instead sat up the rest of the way, swinging her legs to the side of the bed before freezing suddenly.

“You...made tea?”

“Well...I had it sent up. I thought maybe it would help.”

Anna bowed forward, burying her face in her hands. Frightened, Elsa leaned forward, pulling her into a hug as her sister burst into tears again.

“He knows,” she sobbed. “I think he’s known the whole time. I’m so sorry.”

Elsa’s heart dropped. “What happened?”

Anna told her everything, from the beginning, explaining how Hans had dragged her out for so many excursions, had insisted on all the dances, had made her dance today until she had collapsed on the floor and then left her there. Anger curled around Elsa’s heart like a snake poised to strike, fierce and deadly. “That monster. I’ll--”

Anna shook her head. “We can’t do anything. I’ve sat in enough meetings. I know how bad of a spot Arendelle’s in.”

She was right; Elsa hated to admit it, hated herself for not finding a better solution, hated her parents for leaving them in this mess. The Southern Isles had had its eyes on conquering Arendelle since even before their parents’ passing; a marriage tie might be the only option left protecting them from the larger kingdom’s ambitions, might buy them enough time to find a long term solution.

Still, she found herself stroking Anna’s hair, desperate to find some way to comfort her. “There might be another way,” she said. “Maybe-- maybe I can talk with some of the ambassadors of the other smaller kingdoms, or...we still have some money, if we put off a few projects, in case they tried an embargo…”

“It’s okay,” Anna murmured, looking drained. “I...know this isn’t your fault. Not really. But thank you for trying to fix it.”

“I should have been trying long ago. I should never have let the advisors even suggest this as an option. It’s not worth it, making you marry him, making you leave Kr--”

Anna let out another little sob. “Don’t-- please don’t say it. I can’t bear it.”

Elsa nodded, pulling her a little closer. “I mean it. I’ll do what I can to find another way.”

“There isn’t one. But...thank you, anyway, for trying.” Anna squeezed her hand then, turning and giving her a weak smile. “I miss you, Elsa.”

“I miss you, too. I’m sorry for...everything. I should have told you about your heart years ago. And I never should have pulled away like I have. I just...I didn’t know what to do, especially after Mama and Papa...oh, god, Anna, they left us in such a mess.”

Her sister nodded, resigned. “No use sitting and crying about it, though, is there? Time to start finding our way out of it.” 

---

He was waiting for her when she went downstairs the next morning for breakfast. She had been expecting it, though normally he only joined her for dinner. She was surprised, really, that he had even waited this long before pouncing, though she wished he’d waited a little longer; her throat was still sore from all the crying the previous night, which would make it much more difficult to tell him off if it came to that.

“Good morning, darling,” Hans purred, standing up from the table and pulling out a chair. “Do come and sit beside me, won’t you?”

Anna curtsied prettily, rising with a sweet smile. “Of course.”

She settled herself in the chair, folding her hands neatly in her lap to keep them from trembling as Hans piled toast and eggs and bacon onto her plate. She hated eggs.

“You know,” he said conversationally, “Some people would suggest I cancel our engagement, cut my losses and let the world know of this little game to marry you off to someone before you drop dead.”

“And what would you suggest?”

“That it doesn’t matter to me, really, how long you live, so long as the wedding happens. I hope, of course, that you’ll live long enough to give me an heir. Wouldn’t that be lovely? A little prince, with your lovely blue eyes.”

Anna simpered at him. “How sweet.”

“And that way, you see, someone of your bloodline can still inherit Arendelle down the line. Things will work out so very nicely in both our favors. So much neater than the alternatives.”

“And those would be?”

He poured her a cup of coffee. “There’s just one, really, but so many ways we could get there. It’s inevitable that one way or another, Arendelle will pass from your family’s hands-- whether I take it by force or your sister runs it into the ground, no matter what, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces for my own.”

“And if Arendelle didn’t need you or your kingdom’s support?”

He laughed, stirring in a lump of sugar and handing the cup to her. “You are so funny, darling, I think I’ll never tire of hearing your silly little ideas. How lucky I am to have won your heart.”

---

“How did the meeting go today?”

Elsa shrugged, glad Anna was turned away so she couldn’t see her expression. “Pretty well, all things considered,” she said, hoping she sounded lighthearted as she continued plaiting her sister’s hair.

Anna turned her head and was rewarded with a gentle tug on her half-finished braid. “Okay, okay, geez,” she said with a tired little laugh as she turned to face forward again. “But I can definitely tell you’re lying. Just so you know.”

Elsa sighed. “I tried talking with the Duke, really. But he’s happy with our current trade arrangement. If we raise import taxes on Weselton’s goods, that’s going to change, and we can’t afford to lose that income entirely. If you’d been there, though, maybe things would have gone better. You’re much better at diplomacy than me.”

“Maybe I should marry the Duke instead, then.”

“He’s even shorter than you.”

Anna shuddered theatrically. “You can have him, then.”

Elsa laughed and tied off the braid. “You’re all finished.”

Her sister didn’t move, content to be sitting at her feet and leaning back against her knee. “This is...nice. Getting along with you again.”

Elsa couldn’t help but agree. It was a small miracle, really, that her sister had forgiven her for her coldness and for her part in shutting down her relationship with Kristoff. It was plain to see that Anna still longed for him, if anything even more now than she had when she had first left, now that the wedding date was drawing nearer. Hans was planning on taking her back with him the morning after the ball, now only a week and a half away. A lump rose in Elsa’s throat; she had only just gotten her sister back and now was losing her once again, and as much as she had hoped that Anna’s recovery over the summer would stick…

She reached down and squeezed her little sister’s shoulder. “Dinner should be ready now. Will you come down with me?”

“I’m not really hungry, sorry. And my head still hurts.”

Elsa frowned. “Should I have them send some sandwiches up to your room?”

“I’m fine, really.”

She wasn’t; they both knew it. A pang of fear struck Elsa’s heart, not for the first time; she was starting to worry that before long she would be losing her sister to a place much farther away than the Southern Isles.

---

Hans still insisted on his walks, on introducing Anna to this diplomat or the other, on their 

little dance practices, though now, mercifully, he would let her take breaks when she started getting tired.

She questioned it one day as they were walking back to the castle, having just had a close call; they had only made it a few blocks into the town before she had suddenly felt faint, leaning heavily on Hans’s arm and despising herself for needing his support in yet another way. “Why did you want me to...you know...that one day in the ballroom?”

“I already had an inkling. But I needed to know for sure.”

“How did you know? They kept it hidden for so long.”

He chucked her under the chin, smiling fondly at her as a group of noblewomen passed, eyeing her enviously. “That was exactly it. Who would hide such a lovely flower of a princess, and for what purpose? It’s been clear for years that something was wrong in your little kingdom. I’m just the only one smart enough to do something about it.”

It made her stomach turn to hear him talk so about Arendelle, not only because of his obvious disdain but also because she knew he was right. Her parents had been good people, but they had never been fit to rule; her father had come to the throne much too young, and her mother had been a commoner. She wondered what they would think of what their kingdom, what their daughters, had come to now.

She wondered if wherever they were, they were sorry.

---

Talking together had become something of a nightly ritual, so when Anna was nowhere to be found one evening, Elsa was more than a little worried. She had just spent the day having a final dress fitting with Hans; there were only a few more days to go before the engagement ball. Elsa was starting to worry that perhaps something had happened, that Hans had made some more daring move; desperate, she ran to Anna’s rooms and almost flung open the door before catching herself and pausing to knock.

“Come in,” came the weak reply, and she did, hurrying to where Anna was laying on the bed, curled up on top of the blankets and wearing a deep blue sweater that was far too big for her-- the same one, Elsa realized, that she had been wearing when she had left the mountain.

“Anna! What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Just...tired. Long day.”

Elsa placed the back of her hand against Anna’s cheek. “You’re burning up! How long have you felt like this?”

“I’m fine, I promise. Probably just the fire.”

“Let me call a doctor.”

Anna sat up. “No! I’m okay. Please.”

“But your h--”

“No.”

Anna’s eyes were bright, that spark of anger returning to them. Elsa tried again. “Anna, if you’re not--”

“I probably just have a cold.”

“But--”

“Whether I’m sick or not, it doesn’t matter,” Anna snapped. “The sooner I marry Hans, the sooner Arendelle is safe from the Southern Isles. There’s not any time to waste. And if I die before it happens--”

“Anna!”

She clutched Elsa’s wrist, silencing her. “Call a doctor. But I’m not staying in my sickbed. If I die before I marry that bastard, then I gave it all up for nothing.”

“There’s still time to see if there’s another way.”

Anna let go, sitting back as a cloud passed over her face. “I don’t think there is.”

Elsa didn’t dare to ask more; she didn’t think she could bear to hear Anna explain further. “I-- I’ll send someone up with something, at least, to see if we can break the fever.”

Anna nodded. “Okay.”

She flew from the room, asking a servant to call for a doctor as she passed by them in the hall, hardly stopping to explain where to send him. She kept going until she was outside, in the crisp, late-October air. She looked up at the gray clouds on the horizon; the first snows were supposed to fall in just a couple of days, maybe even before Anna left. Hans had been right; there was no time to waste before this wedding.

She took a deep breath, willing herself not to be sick in the middle of the garden. Anna had proven herself over the last few weeks to have a sharp political mind, to be a more skilled diplomat than she had ever realized, but she had refused to accept Elsa’s suggestion that she simply break the engagement and stay to help sort it out. “I don’t actually know what I’m doing,” she had insisted. “This way I’ll know for sure. We can’t risk it.”

Elsa had never been a risk-taker, but now, after the revelations of the last few weeks, she was ready to make a gamble, even if it meant the stakes were so high they raised the possibility of losing both her sister and her kingdom. It was a long shot, she knew, in more than one way, but she would take it, would take any chance that meant keeping Anna in Arendelle and Hans out. 

She turned and went back inside, heading straight for her writing desk. A regular letter wouldn’t do; she knew her correspondence was being watched carefully-- Hans had come with quite a few servants and fellow noblemen to keep him company, and though her parents had failed her in so many other ways, that had always made sure Elsa knew how to recognize a spy.

There were still a few invitations left for the ball, and one last batch going out in the next morning’s mail for the people who hadn’t made the first cut. She picked one up, flipping it over and writing carefully in the top corner, hoping no one would think to open the envelope and pull it out.

K,

She needs you. I’ll have someone meet you at the gates. Come ready to leave.

E

---

A knock came on the door. “Come in,” Anna called wearily, fumbling with her petticoat again. She’d sent her servants away, tired of their fretting; she was still running a fever thanks to this blasted cold, and her head had been pounding even before they had started trying to talk her into calling off the party. She was regretting it now that she was faced with the prospect of getting into this monstrosity of a ballgown alone.

To her surprise, it was Hans who slipped into the room, already dressed in his finery and carrying something in a black garment bag. “The night’s finally here, darling. Isn’t it exciting?”

“Very. Help me with my corset?”

He did, pulling the laces tight with practiced ease. “You’re lucky I have a couple of sisters, too.”

“I’ll have to thank them in person.”

“You’ll get a chance very soon. The first snowstorms are rolling in earlier than expected. We’ll leave tonight immediately after the ball.”

She whirled around. “Tonight? But I didn’t get a chance to--”

“I am sorry about that at least. I’ll make sure you get a chance to talk to your sister before you go.”

Anna squeezed her eyes shut tightly; at least it would mean getting it all over with sooner. She was suddenly so, so tired she didn’t even have the strength to argue. “Fine. Help me with...that?” she asked, gesturing weakly to the underskirt.

“No need. I had something else made for you so you won’t have to worry about changing after the party.”

He pulled a gown out of the bag; to Anna’s surprise, it was more to her taste than the massive ballgown had been. “It’s...nice.”

Hans chuckled, motioning for her to step into the gown. “I’m not a complete monster, dear, no matter what you may think. I can at least do this for you.”

She tried and failed not to shudder as he fastened the buttons up the back, imagining a lifetime of this, of being grateful for his small and unpredictable acts of mercy. You’re doing it for Arendelle, she reminded herself. It’s worth it.

Hans offered her his arm. “Are you ready?”

She wasn’t, but she never would be. She took it and let him lead her away.