#authors note: disney “owned” snow white's voice

[hotfudgecherryrosy]

People will be like "ai voice controversy!" and then it will be like

Actor: hey please don't use my voice to make an ai, it scares me, could confuse people, and could affect my livelihood

People: wow so entitled! who are you? the voice of Disney's Snow White?

[musicallisto]

✒️ + bucky barnes?

i'm not up to date with the events of tfatws (because i lost my disney+ subscription so i guess it's back to p*racy lol), so I hope this is not completely disproved or annuled by events in the show! also shadow and bone + finale of tfatws on the same day? man, they were not playing around.

⚖ 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬)

song: coldplay - in my place | 𝄞

author notes: I'm not sorry to say that if y'all don't like old school coldplay then you don't pass the vibe check. coldplay has been here for me through all of my emotional breakdowns and I couldn't be more thankful for the scientist <3

features: female reader. soft angst.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 pushed the clouds out of Y/N's field of vision; they grazed up in the summer sky, peaceful and fluffy like sheep of light. It had rained not long before, the humid grass under her a telltale sign; but she cared little for the stains and creases she'd get on her clothes. She never had, as long as Sam had known her; and it was because he knew her so well that he had told his friend where she'd be: lying in the grass. A poor excuse of a field for those who had grown up in the city, but a respite nonetheless, perfumed with the smell of the sea, and the distant and content lapping of the tide...

It was where Bucky found her. Sprawled on her back, hair fanned around her head like a halo. A picture of tranquility, she might have been, if he hadn't sensed the waves of abated anger from their prior argument. It was, it seemed, her way of clearing her head before she said something she might regret... a technique most useful he could take into consideration.

"Can I join you?"

She looked over her shoulder, but didn't move, merely gave him a nod of the head, and a long exhale. His shoulders relaxed, and wordlessly, he sat down beside her. Though his gaze was fixed up at the clouds she was admiring, his fingers kept fiddling of their own accord.

How did one have so much trouble finding the right words, even after eighty years to practice them?

"I'm sorry about earlier."

"It's okay, Bucky. I understand what you're going through."

"Do you?"

He bit his lip, blinked furiously in distaste, but the words had come out already. She didn't need any more of his quick wit and defensive cynicism; perhaps he needed to stop it from winding its way through his head in the first place.

Exactly what he dreaded — perhaps he needed to drop the sarcasm and victimhood, and open his arms wide, knowing full well either an embrace or a punch to the gut might come.

"No, I don't," Y/N replied after a moment's hesitation. "You're right, I don't know what you're going through. But I really wish you would let me carry it with you. At least... understand it."

He gulped. Above him passed a cloud that looked exactly like a dragon spitting fire out of snow-white jaws, and the sight was enough to make him crack the smallest of smiles. She would have loved it—if she hadn't seen it already.

"I'm trying to... figure out where I am and what I need to do now. With all this, and with Sam, and..."

With Sam and without Steve, they both understood, though neither said it aloud. Another whisper for the clouds only, like a silent firecracker thrown into the sky.

"And it's scary, putting myself out there, after all that happened to me, all they've done to me..."

"I understand, Bucky. But that's what it means to have someone care about you—I want to help you go through it. I want to lift it off your shoulders. At least a little bit."

She still wasn't facing him, but he could grasp the tone of her voice very well; not resignation, but the tiniest bit of weariness, and, under it, the most discreet layer of hope, like a survival blanket. Bucky glimpsed at the sun from the corner of his eye, still rubbing his fingers in an attempt to soothe himself; the sun, spitting image of all he had lost, yet unwavering and sizzling... he reached into his chest, found the words he meant to say, tried to grasp them; but they slipped out of his fingers, and he breathed out. Very slowly, as though he were afraid his breath could escape him.

"I'm not ready."

She nodded again. She did not breathe out. She took in. She understood.

She would always, and it hit him then that she loved him, that Y/N loved him, truly but not ardently; like a steady ember, slow and prudent in the night, but ready to combust with the slightest rustle of wind.

"How long will I have to wait?"

Bucky extended an arm to her, and though she did not turn her head to glance at it, she found it in an instant and intertwined her fingers with his.

"Not long. I promise."

The lightest of pressures on his hand, the freshness of water droplets underneath.

"I'll wait."

tagging; @softeninglooks @fives-cup-of-coffee (all my writing) @swanimagines @bravelittlesunflower @lxncelot @amortensie (mcu)

[admiringlove]

“did you bring me here to die?”

— welcome to sam’s brewery, where we commemorate reaching 500 customers! this event lasts for one week, and will only take up to twenty orders(as above that can become quite overwhelming).

+order: HI SAM!! This is such a cool concept. but let me just tell u that when I saw ur event post, all dialogue I‘be ever heard/read left my brain. But after some thought, I came up with “did u bring me here to die?!” + atsumu. I feel like he’d do some stupid shit like that lmao!! I can’t wait to see what u come up with for this event!! 💗 [submitted by @bubblingclementine​]

+word count: 0.6k

+author’s notes: erin, i'm sorry but this is just crack lmaooo. to anyone who wants to send a prompt, here is the link to the event masterlist so you can know which shows you can request from!

Miya Atsumu did not like camping as a child.

He hated the idea of being away from the comfort of his own home—especially in the middle of nowhere, with tents or a cabin as his only alleviation and a stupid fire to roast marshmallows on.

Why would any sane person willingly give up their own state of ease to go stay in the wild for a few days? Unless they were delusional, that is.

So when you, his long-time best friend and also partner, suggested a camping trip, he freaked out. He, with wide eyes and a scared expression, said, "What if a bear eats me? Even worse, what if my marshmallow is contaminated? I'd rather live in my house and watch Disney movies with you than go in a jungle!"

You had laughed in his face for that, but he kept his word. And when you came up with the next best thing(which was a big cabin in the middle of the woods), he really couldn't say no to those pleading eyes of yours. Little did he know, that you were only faking being sad.

And what Atsumu hated more than camping, was camping during winter. Being in a cabin while it snowed like a bitch outside was the worst idea possible in his mind. He hated this trip already, now his poor car is getting swarmed with evil white particles. You arrived in his field of vision not long after, so his mind calmed down a bit.

"Here's your hot chocolate," you smiled, sitting on the couch with him as the fire in front of you burned. The lights were still on, but you had insisted that the fireplace be lit.

(Atsumu still doesn't understand how the two of you had become friends. Even though he was a professional athlete, you still managed to surprise him with your bizarre yet somehow exciting ideas.)

He hated this trip, but he hated it a little less when he was with you.

"Ya know, I still don't like that it's snowing and we're in the middle o' nowhere," he grumbles, before sipping from his mug. You chuckle smally, leaning on the nape of his neck as you mumble, "It's okay. I'm happy you agreed to come along."

"Look, [Y/N], if the lights run out or somethin', I'm callin' the cops," he says. You laugh this time, a voice melodious to his ears. Your cheeks are tinted carmine, as you hug him just a smidge tighter.

And just as you do that, the lights turn off.

"Holy fuck!" he yells, the half-empty mug almost falling out of his hands. He places the drink on the coffee table and clutches the blanket a little closer to him. You laugh again, clutching your stomach this time as you tease, "You're such a baby."

"What the hell?" he frantically rants, "I literally just said somethin' about the lights turnin' off and it actually happened! This place is already creepy, and now the lights are gone!"

"We still have the fireplace, 'Tsumu. Don't worry- oh."

"Did you bring me here to die?! That thing's out too! This place is haunted, I'm tellin' ya. I've always hated camping. The thought itself is so dumb. Why would anyone want to stay in a fuckin' forest for a day? We were idiots to come here. C'mon, let's go back home," he picks up his phone and turns on the flashlight, only to get scared again.

You were laughing. Again. And to Atsumu, your laugh was like the ripples in a pond after throwing in a rock. It slowly radiated towards other parts of the water before fading, and he let this sound live in his mind and heart forever, because you, were his solace. He shakes himself out of his thoughts, because this is not the time to be hopelessly in love with you. This is the time to be frantic and call the cops because your cabin might seriously be haunted.

"This is not funny!"

"It..pfft-" you break out into another fit before finally regaining your composure as you say, "I-it is."

"Why?"

"Because there's a blizzard outside, and the trains have been cancelled so we have to wait at least a day till we can go back home."

“This is why people don’t like camping-”

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[tophthedaydreamer]

i’m looking through my old notes rn and i found something cute:

Disney Princesses (and others) if They Were in High School/College

Snow White -- Shy, cottagecore girl. Much loved because of her kindness, and many are jealous of her simplistic beauty. She never wears makeup but still looks like a supermodel. Her favorite subjects are culinary arts, art (primarily sketching), and medical studies. Wants to be a veterinarian or a nurse when she graduates. Has a part time job as a maid for Ms. Grimhilde’s mansion down the road. Lives with her seven uncles.

Cinderella Tremaine -- Hardworking dreamer girl. Loves the nighttime and enjoys gazing at the stars. Known across the school/uni for being a neat-freak and well stocked with pencils. Her favorite subjects are economics, musical theater (mostly because she loves singing), and writing. Wants to be a business manager or an author when she graduates. Is Snow’s coworker at Ms. Grimhilde’s. Lives in her own apartment after leaving her abusive stepmother.

Aurora  -- Rich, but generous forest girl. Incredibly spacey and frequently falls asleep during classes. Can sleep anywhere because of this. Many assume she’s lazy, but she really isn’t. Adores nature walks and birdwatching. Her favorite subjects are silvology (study of forests), sewing, and garden growing. Wants to be a silvologist or park caretaker. Lives with her wealthy family on a sprawling estate.

Tinkerbell -- Feisty and resourceful. Very short and petite, the smallest in school/uni. Doesn’t say much, has long monologues in her head. It is said her voice sounds like bells. Won’t hesitate to get in a brawl to defend her friends. Her favorite subjects are mechanical engineering, physics, and chemistry. Wants to be an engineer or a pilot when she graduates. Lives by herself in her own apartment.

Alice -- Imaginative and bookish. Had a traumatic head injury as a child. Writes about all the weird places she’s been, has favorite odd haunts she likes to go to. Firmly believes in ghosts. Has an extended family filled with strange characters (her favorites being her Uncle Cheshire and Cousin Wight “Rabbit”). Her favorite subjects are writing, investigation, and poetry. Wants to be a detective, journalist, or author when she graduates.

Ariel -- Spunky fire-heart. Enjoys breaking the dress code and generally being a rebel. Her family business is fishing, her father owns a large fish production company. Most are intrigued or intimidated by her boisterousness. A chronic kleptomaniac, she compulsively takes small, shiny things to add to her enormous collection in her closet. Her favorite subjects are musical theater (always gets the starring roles), marine biology, and archeology. Wants to be an explorer or scientist when she graduates. 

and that’s all i wrote about that hehe! i wonder what i’d do with the other princesses?

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The tale of Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 1

*Author’s note*

Okay so firs the gif has NOTHING to do with the story, that was just the 1st gif I saw out of the borhap gifs that was displayed. So this came after the success of my Disney Aladdin AU fic so I decided to do a Robin Hood fic, so as a little cast list for you all here’s what I’ve got. I’ll also update the cast list as each new character is introduced so that none of you get lost. Hope you all enjoy this little AU fic starring our beloved Borhap cast.

Also on a side note, any italics written like this signifies a change in narration where the character of Alan O’Dale speaks his own narration verses what I’ll be writing.

Robin Hood: Rami Malek

Little John: Joe Mazzello

Prince John: Paul Prenter

Sir Heston: voiced by Allen Leech

King Richard (mentioned): Roger Taylor.

Alan O’Dale: Freddie Mercury (think 1975 version of Freddie)

Chapter 1,

Robin Hood and Little John

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@simonedk​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queendeakyy​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@wormzteef​

@geek-and-proud​

_____________________________________________________________

The legend of Robin Hood.  Ahhh yes, that handsome rouge who robbed the rich to feed the poor, who led a band of Merry men and made their home in Sherwood Forest.  But there is more to the tale than meets the eye, and more people were involved in his rise to fame and glory.  Like me.

Oi I’m over here, the handsome black-haired devil with the harp. Yes hello there my darlings. The name’s Alan O’Dale, and I am a minstrel.  That’s an early day folk singer, I go about parading songs from town to town, kingdom to kingdom about brave knights, fierce battles, and of course my favorite stories, love stories.

And do I have two of the best love stories to share with you lovely darlings.  Thankfully it all takes place at the same time so I don’t need to run my mouth on for very long.  Anyways let’s first open our tale up to two dashing young men walking through the forest.

Two of the best friends anyone could ever ask for.  These two young men were known other than Robin Hood and Little John.  Now it didn’t start it off that way at first, those two chuckleheads always kept crossing each other’s paths as children and constantly argued and fought over territory, women, you name it.

But when they reached their late teens, Robin was one day captured by the despicable, ugly, and revolting Sheriff of Nottingham.  Fortunately with the help of an additional 3rd party, Robin was saved from the hangman’s noose and from then on, Robin and Little John were the best of friends. You don’t believe me, let me sing you a little something.  

Tuning the harp, Freddie then begins to play an uplifting little tune as he begins to sing.

Robin Hood and Little John walkin' through the forest Laughin' back and forth at what the other'ne has to say Reminiscin', This-'n'-thattin' havin' such a good time Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Never ever thinkin' there was danger in the water They were drinkin', they just guzzled it down Never dreamin' that a schemin' sheriff and his posse Was a-watchin' them an' gatherin' around

Robin Hood and Little John runnin' through the forest Jumpin' fences, dodgin' trees an' tryin' to get away Contemplatin' nothin' but escape an' fin'lly makin' it Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day

Deep in the forest on top of a tree there hid two young men in their mid to late-20’s.  One was a pale white man with long shoulder length auburn brown hair.  His eyes were a mixed brownish-green and he was a handsome young man.

The man beside him was around the same age, if not slightly older and had skin that almost seemed to be kissed by the sun.  His eyes were an intense blue color that could almost hypnotize you and at the same time make you feel relaxed.  His short jet black hair topped off his head.

Together the two of them wore a similar green and brown clothes. Similar to a ranger’s outfit.  Fit to camouflage them within the forest terrain, but also enough layers to keep them warm from the elements be it rain, sleet, snow and hail.

The two young men watched as the Sheriff of Nottingham and his men gave up on the search after losing them and retreating back to the city. Once they fled the forest, the two men threw themselves back against the top of the tree branches and laughed their heads off.

“Ohh we sure showed those clowns who the real woodsmen are!” boasted Little John.

“Indeed we have Little John.” It was then Little John saw on top of his friend’s and boss’ famed yellow hat an arrow sticking right through it.

“I wouldn’t be too quick to boast my friend. Take a look at your hat. She’ll not be pleased to see that.” Robin picked his hat up and his eyes widened in surprise and he said as he took the arrow out and fiddled with the newly made hole in his hat.

“Hello. This one had my name on it didn’t it? They’re getting better you know.” He placed his hat back on top of his head. “You’ve got to admit it, they are getting better.”

“Yeah. And when that day comes the Sheriff will have a rope hanging around our necks.” Little John said gravely.  He then mimed out a hanging as he proceeded to make a brief choking sound.  “It’ll be hard to laugh hanging there Robin.”

“Ha! The Sheriff and his whole posse couldn’t lift you off the ground. En Garde!” he then flicked the arrow right at Little John which went through his own smaller green hat.

“Oi watch it you bastard that’s the only hat she made for me!” Little John exclaimed as he took his hat off the arrow.

“Oh come along my friend. If she can patch mine up a hundred times, she’ll patch yours up as well. At least she won’t kill you for it.” Robin said nonchalantly as he leaned up against the trunk of the tree.

“You know something Robin I’ve been thinking.”

“Thinking that’s a first.” Robin teased.  Little John glared at his friend before saying.

“I’m serious here. Are we good guys or bad guys? I mean our famed mantra of robbing the rich to feed the poor.”

“‘Rob?’” Robin tsked. “That’s a naughty word we never rob. We just—sorta borrow a bit from those you can afford it.”

“Borrow?” Little John chuckled. “Then we truly are in deep debt.” Before Robin could say another word, from the distance the sound of trumpets rang out.

He climbed a few feet higher up the tree till he reached the very top of it.  He could hear the whole ensemble of a band playing in the distance and he chuckled softly.

“Sounds like another collection day for the poor eh Johnny me boy?”

“Yeah. Sweet charity. So, what’s the plan this time my friend?” Robin slid down the trunk to meet back with Little John and together he laid out the plan.

Just a few miles along a dirt road, the royal ensemble was walking through the forest.  The royal band played an up-tempo beat, walking behind them was the royal guard all dressed in their armor and holding their spears.

Some of the guards even carried a very large treasure chest which held the taxes throughout all of England.  Then shortly behind the guards was the royal coach of pure gold, and inside it was the vile, selfish, arrogant, man-child that was Prince John, the younger half-brother of the great King Richard.

An Irish bastard’s son.  Who claimed right to the throne of England after his mother who was Queen. He was inside his coach happily running his hands through all the gold he had collected from the people as he boastfully cheered.

“Taxes! Taxes! Beautiful, lovely taxes!”

“Sire. You have an absolutely skill for encouraging contributions from the poor.” His talking albino python that he had named Sir Heston. He had Heston ever since he found him as a egg abandoned in the woods.  With the help of some magic from the faes, Prince John gave his pet human intelligence and the ability to speak.  And once he gained the throne, he allowed his snake to be his right hand man.

“The coin a phrase, my dear advisor. Rob the poor to feed the rich. Am I right?” The two of them laughed.  “Now tell me, what is the next stop Sir Heston?” Prince John asked as he held the crown of England in his hands.  Heston slithered over to the map and he hummed with interest.

“Why, the next stop is Nottingham sire.”

“Oh! The richest plum of them all. Nottingham.” Heston held a large mirror in his coils and held it up as Prince John placed the crown on top of his head and admired himself in the mirror.  The crown slid off down his face as Sir Heston spoke out.

“A perfect fit sire. Most becoming. You look regal, dignified, sincere, masterful, noble. Chival……”

“Now, now don’t. Don’t overdo it Heston.” Prince John scolded as he adjusted the crown to make it fit upon his head. “There. That does it. This crown gives me a feeling of power! Power!”

“And how well King Richard’s crown sits on your noble brow.”

“Yes indeed I—ah King Richard?!” Prince John first started off before snarling by the end.  Heston gulped and was soon choked by his master as he proclaimed again “I told you to never mention my bastard of a brother’s name!”

“A mere slip of the forked tongue your majesty.” Heston apologized. “But remember we were in this plot together. After all it was your idea that I hypnotize him…..”

“Yes. And send him off on that ridiculous crusade. Ah-ha! Ah-ha!” Prince John laughed along.

“Much to the sorrow of the Queen Mother.”

“Yes! Mother.” Prince John sobbed. “Mother always did like Richard best.” He muttered angrily before proceeding to suck his thumb.

“Your highness, please don’t do that. If you don’t mind me saying so, it’s undignified for a King to suck his thumb.” Heston said to him. He then slithered up to Prince John and his eyes began to shimmer and glow as he said in a low hiss, “Hypnotism can rid of your psychosis….so…..easily…..” Prince John began to slowly relax but he quickly snapped out of it.

“None of that! None of that!” he shouted at his snake advisor.

“Well I was only trying to help.” Heston said annoyed.

“Help. Help indeed. Now, now one more stunt like that Heston, and you will be walking to Nottingham.”

“Snakes don’t walk they slither. So there.” Heston muttered angrily as he slithered back onto his tree-like pole and lay there pouting.

Racing through the woods putting on their disguises was Little John in the lead.  He wore a long blood red gypsy dress that revealed his shoulders.  Once he got into the dress, he took out a few rings and placed them on his finger as well some anklets, earrings, and he quickly tied a purple sash around his waist to finish off the look.  

While behind him, Robin wore a long blue dress that was fit for an elderly woman and had a long black wig on.  He placed a couple of earrings on his ears and had a bandana tied to his head.

As the two of them stopped behind a tree, they saw the royal band coming in as well as the guards and the coach which held Prince John inside.

“Well this is a letdown. It’s only a circus. A peanut operation.”

“Peanuts? Why you dunce that’s the royal coach. It’s Prince John himself.” Robin snapped as his friend.

“Prince John. Alright you and her might be crazy enough to actually rob royalty but I am not having it. I’m gone!”

“What? And miss this chance to perform before royalty?” Robin said as he stepped in front of Little John. Quickly placing his hands over Little John’s fake breasts before backing off and doing a grand twirl of his blue dress.  Little John rolled his eyes as he sighed.

“Here he goes again.” They waited till the coach got closer before stepping out and waved their arms in the air trying to get the attention of the Prince.

“Oo-de-lally! Oo-de-lally! Fortune tellers!” Robin proclaimed masking his voice to sound like an elderly woman’s voice.

“Fortunes, forecasts, lucky charms!” Little John proclaimed making his voice go an octave higher to sound like a woman’s.

“Get the dose with your horoscope!” Robin called out again. Prince John pulled back the curtains hearing the proclamations of the two ‘women’.

“Fortune tellers, how exciting! Stop the coach.” He ordered the guards as the entire royal party stopped their marching.

“Sire, sire. They maybe bandits.” Sir Heston whispered to his master.

“Oh poppycock. Female bandits, what’s next? Rubbish.” Prince John scoffed.  He turned back to the two ladies who bowed before him and he said. “My dear ladies, you have my permission to kiss the royal hands. Whichever you like.” Both Robin and Little John stared wide-eyed once they saw the size of the jeweled rings that rested along the prince’s fingers.

“Hmm. Oh how gracious. And generous of you your majesty.” Robin said as he lowered his head to kiss the Prince’s left hand while sneaking off a ring from his tall finger.  Sir Heston who had seen the ring being taken whispered in Prince John’s ear.

“Sire! Did you see what…..”

“Stop! Stop hissing in my ear!” Prince John scolded as he rubbed his left ear.  Little John kissed right over the four rings on the prince’s right hand, secretly taking the jewels right off their encasement.  Heston began stammering in the Prince’s other ear which made the Prince proclaim and rub his other ear like he did his last one.

“Heston! You’ve hissed your last!” he took his python by the neck and slammed him into a basket before closing it and sitting on top of it. “Suspicious snake.” He hissed lowly.

“Masterfully done. Ehh your excellency. Now the fun can truly begin.” Robin tempted the Prince as he climbed into the coach with Prince John and closed the curtains.  He turned the lanterns down low and said to him, “Now close your eyes and concentrate.”

Prince John closed his eyes as Robin continued to tell him to close them tighter and not to peek.  He looked around the room until he found the pile of gold, he did a soft chuckle before chanting out.

“From the mists of time, I call forth ye spirits.” Outside the coach, Little John had a glass bowl tied to a string that was attached to a pole.

“Alright you little fireflies. Glow, glow.”

“We’re waiting!” Robin sung out.  That’s when Little John sent the bowl inside and he could hear Robin gasp. “Look sire! Look!”

When the prince opened his eyes, he saw three floating spirits within a crystal ball.  He was in pure awe as he said.

“Incredible. Floating spirits.” He went to touch the ball until he was slapped by Robin.  He chuckled a soft witchy cackle as he said.

“Naughty, naughty. You mustn’t touch young man.”

“Well how dare you strike the royal hand I—”

“Shh, shh, shh. You’ll break the spell just gaze into the crystal ball.” Robin took the ball with the fireflies and set it down on the table between him and the prince.  Robin then began chanting in an ancient Arabic tongue before letting out a gasp. “A face appears.”

The Prince immediately looks closer at the crystal ball intrigued.

“A crown sits on his noble brow.”

“A crown! Oo-de-lally how exciting!”

“His face is handsome, regal, majestic, loveable, a cuddly face.” From outside Little John heard all the comments Robin was laying on the Prince and could help but mime out a gag and roll his eyes.  Especially when the Prince began agreeing with everything that was said about him.

Robin then went for the treasure while the Prince was in his own head.  But as soon as he reached out his hand for the bag of gold, Heston who had found a weak spot on the basket poked his head out and actually struck out at Robin’s hand.

Biting his lip as he quickly retreated his hand to see it bleeding from the snake’s bite.  He let out a pained groaned which got the attention of the prince.

“Now what?” he asked impatiently.  Robin swallowed his pain and chuckled softly.

“I—I see your….illustrious name.”

“I know my name! Get on with it!” the Prince cried impatiently.

“Your name will go down, down, down in history of course!” Robin said as he struggled to take the bag of gold from Heston, who had it wrapped around his tail, but with a finally good tug, Robin managed to get the gold and send it towards Little John through the back curtains of the coach.

“Ahh! I knew it! I knew it! You hear that Heston!? Oh no you can’t he’s in the basket.” He then banged the side of the basket and said to his snake, “And-and-and don’t you forget it.”

Meanwhile outside, Little John slowly circled around the coach when he took notice of the solid gold hubcaps on the wheels of the coach.

“Hmm now that’s what I call pure gold hubcaps.” He looked around and stood in front of the back one and unscrewed it from the wheel and shoved it up the back of his dress.  He then moved over to the front on and did the same thing. “Oo-de-lally the jackpot.” He muttered softly as he eyed the royal treasure.

However it was completely surrounded and carried by guards.  Little John pondered for a bit but remembered a trick that he learned from a friend of his.

The one sure fire way to get a man’s attention away from their post.

He whistled out to the guards and when they turned and saw him, their mouths immediately dropped and their eyes widened.  He slowly and seductively untied the purple sash from his waist and began to do a seductive dance.

Shimming his shoulders and swaying his hips back and forth. Little John was light on his feet as he leaped and hopped about like a graceful deer.  He then skipped on over to the first guard who was just in awe.

Little John wrapped the purple sash around the guard’s neck pulling him in a little closer.  Close enough to kiss him.  But to tease him, he shoved the guard’s helmet over his face before retreating back and flaunted the guard, who was still hypnotized by Little John’s performance.

He twirled around before suddenly dropping down into a full split.  The guards now began to hoot and holler as they applauded, dropping the treasure. Little John then went up to another guard and took his spear out of his hands and jammed it into the ground.  

With the grace of a deer, Little John then began to spin and slid down the spear’s long pole before ending with a pose with his right leg high in the air and he winked at the guards who were now applauding and whistling.

“Ohh stop it. Stop it you boys are too much.” Little John spoke his woman voice.

“That was the best show we have ever seen.” Said one of the guards.

“Well gentleman. It was my pleasure to dance for you. But of course every bit of contribution helps. For you see I—oh I just can’t say it.”

“What is it?” asked another guard.

“No it’s—it’s too painful to speak about.” The guards feeling sympathetic for this beautiful woman all started speaking up and telling ‘her’ that they wanted to hear her story. “Well…..I wasn’t always like this. My husband was beating me, cheating me, then left me all alone with no money. That’s when I—I forced myself to flee even without a cent to my name. That’s when I found Ms. Olga, the elderly gypsy woman I came with. But even then we—we hardly get by with enough food for you see…..I found myself pregnant at the time I left.”

These men were falling for the story hook, line and sinker. It was then one of the guards took the treasure chest and slid it over to Little John.

“Please, take it all.” Little John gave the young guard a surprised look and he said.

“Oh no I couldn’t possibly take all this.”

“Please. My—my mum had to raise me on her own when my father left her. For you and your baby.”

“Ohh you sweet thing.” He stroked the side of the guard’s cheek and Little John dragged the royal chest away from the guards.

As he came around the corner of the carriage, he felt someone bump into him which knocked him over the chest.  He turned around and saw Robin wearing Prince John’s royal cape and surrounded by a bunch of gold pieces that had fallen out of a bag that lay on the ground.

“Nice robes your majesty.” Little John teased, his normal accent finally coming out.

“And what of you, you vulgar young hussy. I heard all the wolf whistles and cheering. I could hardly keep the Prince under my hypnosis to swipe his clothes and gold.”

“Never mind that. Just gather the gold and then help me with this.” Robin and Little John then worked together to put as much gold pieces back in the bag as possible.  Robin stuffed the bag into his dress then both he and Little John picked up the chess and quickly raced off.

Prince John who had woken up from his dazed state, saw the two gypsy women running away from the scene, the elderly woman wearing his robes. He looked down and saw that he was in his undergarments.

“ROBBED! I’VE BEEN ROBBED! HESTON! YOU’RE NEVER AROUND WHEN I NEED YOU!!” Heston slithered out of the basket and raised half his body length up and looked the prince up and down. “I’ve been robbed.” He choked out as he covered himself up.

“Of course you’ve been robbed!” Heston hissed.  Far in the forest, Robin was gleefully chanting as he and Little John made their escape with the royal treasure.

“AFTER THEM YOU FOOLS!” Prince John proclaimed.  The guards now realizing they had been tricked, immediately took off running.  The carriage soon began to chase after Robin and Little John, unfortunately due to the missing hubcaps, the wheels began to pop off which made Prince John hop out of his carriage and fall straight into the mud.

Leaving him stranded in the middle of the forest trail alone with Heston.  He sobbed as he pounding the ground whining like a child.

“I knew it. I knew this would happen. I tried to tell you but no, no you wouldn’t listen. You just have to—” when Heston realized that he had angered the Prince, he began stammering as he tried to warn the prince as he now held a very large mirror, “Seven years bad…..” he then had the mirror smashed onto his head. “Luck. That’s what that is. Besides, you just broke your mother’s mirror.”

“Ahhh! Mummy!” Prince John whined as he began to suck his thumb once again.  He took it out of his mouth as he said solemnly, “I’ve got a dirty thumb.”

[franadamo]

CASE STUDIES AND INSPIRATIONS.

Sleeping Beauty

Disney’s notorious and classic movie, Sleeping Beauty, was released in theaters on January 29th, 1959. The movie centers around a young princess, Aurora, who was cursed at a young age to prick her finger on a sewing wheel and to fall into a deep sleep on the day of her sixteenth birthday. At the end of the story, the Prince comes to her aid, by getting rid of this curse with a kiss. While it has been re-released four times, it is also the second highest grossing movie of 1969. 

The writing for Sleeping Beauty began in 1951, after Cinderella was released and the success it followed. Some of the elements that are found in Sleeping Beauty were taken from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, although that doesn’t come as much of a surprise. Alongside Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty was the third fairy tale movie released by Disney, and the last to be released for some time, before returning to them with The Little Mermaid in 1989. 

During the production of the movie, there was a series of replacements of directors. While the movie was originally led by director Wilfred Jackson, he had a heart attack in 1953, leaving the work to the directing animator, Larson. Disney would eventually replace Larson with Clyde Geronimi.

With this movie, Disney wanted the “film’s design aesthetic to be completely unique to anything the studio had previously crafted.” The idea for this movie was to go with a “moving tapestry,” in a sense, as if it was a moving illustration. This was a result of art director John Hench’s seeing the 16th century unicorn tapestries artwork at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. Disney also wanted the work to be as detailed as possible with, both, the character designs and the backgrounds, this work falling on background painter, Eyvind Earle, who worked in the studio for only three years. 

And this, specifically, is exactly why I wanted to include Sleeping Beauty as one of my case studies for my animation. While the overall aesthetic, color palettes and style behind Disney’s Sleeping Beauty resembles the one I envisioned for Mavis and her world, Eyvind Earle’s masterpieces are one of the things that stood out to me the most. While he had previously worked on projects such as Peter Pan (1953), For Whom the Bulls Toil (1953) and Lady and the Tramp (1955), he “truly left his mark” with Disney’s Sleeping Beauty. He was greatly notorious for his “lush landscapes” and strong verticals. After Disney saw his work, he decided that, instead of having the background artists follow on to the animators’ footsteps, he’d have the opposite, where Earle would lead with his paintings, and the animators would follow in with his style. As a matter of fact, “the animators found it difficult, even impossible, to translate Earle’s detail-laden style into viable character designs.” 

Sadly, the movie was a “financial flop.” Not necessarily because of its art direction, but because, as author Bob Thomas noted, “the emphasis was on visual beauty and spectacular effects.” Furthermore, the movie was “released in Super Technirama 70mm, which means there was a higher level of detail and stylisation,” being a huge step forward in the animation field at the time. It also featured a significant transformation in terms of animating, where the traditional “round imagery” turned to a flatter and more graphic sophistication. 

Similarly, in terms of style, I also wanted to include Disney’s One Hundred and One Dalmatians (1961) and Pinocchio (1940).

References: 

Cain, A. (2017) This Artist Made Disney’s “Sleeping Beauty” Enchanting - and Nearly Impossible to Animate. Available at: https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-artist-made-disneys-sleeping-beauty-enchanting-impossible-animate.

Jamieson, D. (2020) The House of Mouse Project - “Sleeping Beauty”. Available at https://thejamreport.com/2020/04/22/the-house-of-mouse-sleeping-beauty/

Deja, A. (2013) Deja View: The Art of Sleeping Beauty. Available at http://andreasdeja.blogspot.com/2013/01/the-art-of-sleeping-beauty.html.

Rowney, J. (2019) Sleeping Beauty Facts on 60th Anniversary - Movie that nearly Bankrupted Disney. Available at https://www.mirror.co.uk/film/sleeping-beauty-facts-60th-anniversary-13838175

Oliver, M. (2000) Eyvind Earle; Artist and Disney Painter. Available at https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2000-jul-25-me-58783-story.html

Thumbelina

The movie Thumbelina was originally released on March 30th, 1994, by Warner Bros. It was directed and produced by director Don Bluth. While the movie was produced in the 1990s, the story itself originates from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale, Thumbelina.

The story features a tiny girl born out of a tulip, after a woman struggled to have a child of her own. Thumbelina herself, like the name suggests, is the size of a thumb. Throughout the story, Thumbelina learns to love herself by undergoing several adventures. The production featured renowned voice actors, including Carol Channing, John Hurt, and even Jodi Benson, who’d notably voiced Disney’s Ariel in The Little Mermaid, in 1989. Some of the animators that worked on this movie were Paul J. Kelly, Jacques Muller and Mark Pudleiner. 

When producing the movie, Merlin and Media Assetshave offered to spend 6 million dollars in the production of Thumbelina, as well as A Troll in Central Park. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as successful as it was planned to be, gaining almost half of what was put into the production of the movie. While I personally remember liked the movie as a child because of its colorful aesthetics and in the way that the animals’ features were overly exaggerated, it was also very colorful, while having a, somewhat, darker theme, when it came to the presentation of a fairy-tale world. In a sense, it stayed true to the darker hints that Hans Christian Andersen left behind his stories. Also, while the colors are plenty and to be seen everywhere throughout the movie, they’re also quite muted, and not as bright as they’d usually be for an animation that is aimed at children or at a younger audience. 

Nonetheless, aside from the style and the use of colors, I also included this movie as one of my case studies because of the way that the creatures are shaped and presented. In a way, they serve as some sense of inspiration when I work with Mavis’ own universe, in terms of anthropomorphic and normal animals.

References:

The Big Cartoon Database. Thumbelina. Available at https://www.bcdb.com/bcdb/cartoon.cgi?film=23391

AllMovie. Thumbelina (1994). Available at https://www.allmovie.com/movie/v133496

Hersholt, J. Thumbelina. Available at https://andersen.sdu.dk/vaerk/hersholt/Thumbelina_e.html

Dawtrey, A. Merlin’s Magic May Animate DBE. Available at https://variety.com/1992/biz/news/merlin-s-magic-may-animate-dbe-100532/

Spirited Away

The movie was released in 2001, by the notorious Studio Ghibli. It was produced by the Studio Ghibli co-CEO Hayao Miyazaki. After releasing the greatly acclaimed Princess Mononoke, he immediately began working on this new project, after he found inspiration during an outing with some of his friends and their daughters. At that time, he noticed how girls were reading manga, and how the latter were often times focused on romance, and subjects of the sort. This made him think, ultimately asking himself: 

“Is there possibly more that we can offer the young girls of this country?”

And so, the idea for Spirited Away, originally called The Spiriting Away of Sen and Chihiro, was born. The story follows the adventures of a young ten-year old girl through a “strange world of spirits,” where she needs to “find the will to live and save her parents,” who, in the meantime, had been turned into pigs. The movie began with a budget of 15 million dollars, while Disney agreed to finance 10% of its production costs. After its release, Spirited Away had a massive success, way more than the Studio could have ever imagined. In fact, “by the spring of 2002, the film would go on to shatter the previous record helf by ‘Titanic’ at the Japanese box-office.” Furthermore, “Spirited Away's $235 million not only sunk Titanic, but also set the film as the first non-American film to make $200 million outside of the US,” surpassing Princess Mononoke’s $155 million’s box office, back in 1997. 

This movie is, to this day, the highest grossing movie in Japanese history. Additionally, frequent director of notorious Pixar movies, John Lasseter, was assigned with the task of Disney’s creative consultant in the US release of Spirited Away. This was also a key factor in the commercial success of the movie outside of Japan, as John Lasseter, aside from being a highly renowned animator, was also a huge fan of Miyazaki. 

* Miyazaki is also very known for his use of watercolors. Furthermore, he often times includes anti-war, pro-environmentalism and feminist themes into his works.

In terms of the animation itself, Miyazaki wanted to explore the use of computer technology. However, while he and his team wanted to work with this media in particular, he also didn’t want it to use too much. Instead, he wanted to “keep the technology at a level to enhance the story, [and] not steal the whole show.”

“Studio Ghibli has forever shifted Japanese popular culture through their unique and constant quality storytelling coupled with beautiful visuals.”

Similarly, in terms of style and color use that I like to associate with the world and animation that I have in mind for Mavis and her own universe, I thought of Studio Ghibli’s Kiki’s Delivery Service (1989).

References:

The Making of Hayao Miyazaki’s Spirited Away - Part 1. Available at http://jimhillmedia.com/alumni1/b/michael_howe/archive/2003/04/15/1391.aspx

Herskovitz, J. “Mononoke” Creator Miyazaki Toons up Pic. Available at https://variety.com/1999/film/news/mononoke-creator-miyazaki-toons-up-pic-1117759995/

Gurney, J. (2017) Watercolor Tips from Hayao Miyazaki. Available at http://gurneyjourney.blogspot.com/2017/03/watercolor-tips-from-hayao-miyazaki.html

Ewens, H. (2016) Why ‘Spirited Away’ is the Best Animated Film of All Time. Available at https://www.vice.com/en/article/8geg4b/spirited-away-ghibli-miyazaki-15th-15-year-anniversary-best-animation-hannah-ewens

Mcdonald, T. (2020) Studio Ghibli and its Affect on Japanese Culture. Available at https://www.arcgis.com/apps/Cascade/index.html?appid=b2e39738b7d140babc407db5a40415e8

BBC. (2016) Hayao Miyazaki: Japan's Godfather of Animation? Available at https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-38074088

Honorable Mentions: Disney’s Robin Hood (1973), Tangled (2010).

[something-tofightfor]

Triple D: Delos Does Disney (Part 4)

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader

Word Count: 6875

Rating: N S F W 

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading and all of the feedback... this part of your life with Logan is coming to a close. I love giving him a happy life, and I have no plans to stop that any time soon. 

Summary: As the day winds down, Logan’s got a few more surprises in store... and so do you. 

Tag list: (Please let me know if you wanna be added, removed, or moved to a different category!)

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts  @wangmangagavroche @agentlingerie

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman @damalseer @chibiyanai @life-is-a-melody @songtoyou

@madamrogers @ethereal-heavcns @editboutique @marauderskeeper @ilkaeliseb @delicatelilyflower @king4thesirens @ymariejp @mr-robot-x @rageshots @littlemermaidprobz @introvertedlibrary @writing-for-a-chance @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals @likeorions @swiftyhowlz @dylanobrusso @malik-payne @lynne1993 @traeumerinwitzhelden @ladyblablabla @dreamwritesimagines @audreychaz @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa @binbonsadoration @ificouldhelpyouforget @ms-delos @jeanettexkillian @avengerswhore @elioelioeli0 @projectcampbell @giggleberts @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

There had been short lines for Indiana Jones and the Jungle Cruise, meaning that by the time you finished with those, you had to make a choice: Splash Mountain or Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. “We’d have to walk all the way back almost to Galaxy’s Edge to get on Splash Mountain,” Logan said, leaning back against a fence. “And you just checked the app, the wait is almost 40 minutes, so we wouldn’t -” 

“You just don’t want to get wet, Logan.” You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Splash Mountain is…”

“No, you’re right, I don’t.” Logan shrugged, scratching his beard. “It’s dark and I’m already cold, and then we’d have to stand around in wet clothes while we watched fireworks.” He pushed off of the fence, hand reaching for yours. “Plus, we’ll be in the Bahamas for weeks.” He leaned down, kissing you on the corner of your mouth, lips lingering. “There are a ton of waterslides there, we can get as wet as we want and we won’t be cold.” No, but… You closed your eyes. He’s right. You were a little cold too, but would never admit it to Logan, because he’d never let you live it down. Thunder Mountain it is. 

“Let’s just go on Thunder Mountain, Logan. It’s right here, and then we can meet them … where, again?” He slipped his fingers between yours, squeezing. 

“On Main Street, they’re going to save a spot for us by the corn dog stand, that way we can go on that Buzz Lightyear thing before we leave, it’s Em’s favorite.” Another ride? But you nodded, letting Logan lead you up and into the line for the last roller coaster in the park. The line moved quickly, and you’d ridden and were off before 8:15, giving you just enough time to stop in the bathroom before heading back toward Main Street, following the crowd. You saw women eyeing Logan, paying no attention to the men that they were with, but you ignored it, leaning into your husband’s shoulder as you walked. They don’t matter. “There they are.” Logan raised his left hand, ring catching some of the twinkling lights from the lampposts as he pointed. “Plenty of space.” As you met the other three, Emily launched herself at Logan, who crouched down to her level, listening intently as she recapped the past few hours of her day. With him distracted, you looked at Mark, who nodded and used one hand to lift the strap of his backpack, indicating that he’d picked up what you asked him for. Perfect. “Hungry?” Logan’s voice interrupted your thoughts and you nodded at him, eyes moving to the line of people waiting at the cart, which was shorter than you’d thought it would be. “Be right back.” 

He stepped into line and while you kept an eye on him, you spoke to Mark. “We’re doing Christmas when we get back, that way we don’t have to take anything with us or worry about getting it home… so if you want to drop that off at our place sometime, that’d be great.” Juliet laughed, her hand on Emily’s head. 

“If you think my brother’s not going to give you a gift on Christmas…” You rolled your eyes, but smiled too. 

“I know, believe me. I’m taking something for him, because I know he will for me, but…”

“We’ll get it there, I promise.” Mark pressed his lips together. “I had to get one for myself, too.” I figured. The three of you were laughing, Emily sitting on the ground and watching as the people walked by when Logan returned with your food ten minutes later, handing you the basket and your drink. 

“Thanks, Lo.” He picked up his corn dog, holding it out to you and you responded by tapping yours against the fullest part of his, one eyebrow raised. “Cheers.” Without worrying about the condiments, you took a large bite, closing your eyes. I didn’t even realize how hungry I still was. Finishing your food without speaking, you took Logan’s trash and quickly stepped to a garbage can, hurrying back with only minutes to spare. “Can we see everything here?” You questioned him, leaning back against Logan’s chest as he wrapped his arms around you, turning you so that you were facing the castle, which was illuminated in thousands of white and blue lights. 

“We wouldn’t be standin’ here if we couldn’t.” He whispered the words into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Promise.” You didn’t want to check the time, instead focusing on Juliet as she told Emily to stand, Mark as he reached down, taking Emily’s hand in one of his as she stood in front of her parents, his other arm going around Juliet’s shoulders. The three of them took a step or two away from you, Juliet looking over her shoulder and winking, Logan nodding once. Thanks, Jules. While you’d wanted to spend time with the three of them, and Emily wanted you and Logan to be there, there was a clear separation between families for arguably the most meaningful part of the night. “Here we go.” The lights dimmed and the music began playing, Logan’s arms tightening around you as he hummed along with the music. 

You knew Logan could sing, he reminded you every so often in the car when you were listening to the radio, or when he was working out, headphones in. But you weren’t expecting to hear him sing Christmas carols quietly into your ear in time with a fireworks display in a crowd of thousands, and even though you were enraptured by the lights and music from the park, it was your husband’s voice that made your knees weak, puffs of air hitting your cheek as he sang along, swaying back and forth slightly. “Logan…” You whispered his name but he didn’t stop, one of the hands at your waist sneaking beneath your hoodie, fingers flat against your stomach and spread out, pulling you even closer to him. The castle went dark as the music stopped, and you turned your face toward Logan, the words dying on your lips as he kissed you quickly, your own hands covering his. Oh. 

“I love you, Mrs. Delos.” He spoke quietly but you heard in his voice that he meant every word as much that time as he had the first he’d said it. You repeated the same back to him, and then the castle was illuminated again in shades of white and blue as White Christmas began playing, Logan’s voice low in your ear again. But even that was drowned out by the excited reactions of the people around you as it started to snow, the flakes falling quickly from the sky. You grinned, turning your face upward and laughing. “It’s soap.” Logan reminded you, squeezing your body once more before dropping his hands and turning you slowly in the dark, his hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. I love you so much, Logan. 

You rested a hand on his chest, staring into Logan’s eyes as the ‘snow’ fell around you and the music continued, people ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aah’-ing loudly, but you only saw Logan, the flakes resting in his dark hair and on his shoulders, swirling around his head. “Logan, I -” He shook his head, leaning in and dropping the hand on your face to the side of your neck. 

“Just shut up and kiss me, alright?” You nodded, closing your eyes as your lips met your husband’s, fingers curling into the material of his shirt. The finale of the fireworks boomed behind you, but you ignored it, instead focused on Logan in front of you, his free arm circling your body. 

“Alright, you two, that’s enough.” You hadn’t even realized that the show had ended and the lights were back on, but Juliet’s voice interrupted the kiss, Logan grinning against your mouth for a few more seconds before he pulled away. “You guys didn’t even see the end, and that was the best part.”

“Didn’t need to,” Logan said as he casually draped an arm around your shoulders, clearing his throat and looking down at Emily. “We saw the snow, right? And that’s better than the fireworks.” Emily nodded vigorously, the snowflakes still collected in her hair, and Logan glanced back at his sister. “See, Jules? Even Em agrees.” Mark laughed, shaking his head and within a few minutes, the five of you were walking toward Tomorrowland again, Emily leading the way. “One hour.” Logan whispered in your ear as you stepped through the doorway and into the darkened hallway line. “One hour and we’ll be in bed, and…” Logan groaned quietly and you closed your eyes. Not soon enough. 

Though the ride - glorified laser tag - was fun, and a good way to be competitive, you were tired of the park, tired of being on your feet, and tired of keeping your hands to yourself. I’ve got an idea. “Logan.” You turned to him, eyeing the line. “I bet I get a higher score than you.” Logan rolled his eyes before answering, head shaking back and forth. 

“I’ve been coming here for years, there’s no way that you get a higher score than me.” We’ll see about that. Emily, Mark and Juliet slid into one of the cars and you and Logan followed into the next, settling into the seat and waiting for the lap bar to drop. As you left the loading area, you turned to Logan, reaching for the gun attached to the front of the vehicle. 

“Alright.” You grinned, holding the blaster up. “High score wins.” He nodded at you, a serious look in his eye as he reached for his own gun, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the top of the car. “Lo?” He glanced over, lips pressed together. “Good luck.” You’re gonna need it. As the car entered the darkness of the ride and the sound effects started, you used your left hand to point the gun, firing haphazardly into the darkness while you reached for Logan with the right, fingers tugging on the zipper of his jeans. 

“Shit!” He jumped, hand tightening on the handle of the gun, head whipping toward you. “What are you…?” You shook your head, looking away and firing off a few shots, fingers pushing the denim of his jeans to the side before making contact with the material beneath them. 

“Logan, keep firing.” You glanced back over at him, pleased to see his mouth hanging open slightly. “Wouldn’t want to lose, would you?” He shifted closer to you without speaking, and you continued the game you were playing, one hand shooting for the targets and the other on your husband, who grew hard beneath your touch, his breathing changing quickly and becoming more rapid. After a minute, you took a breath, turning your head and aiming the gun to the opposite side of the car, giving you an excuse to look at Logan, whose jaw was set, eyes wide. 

“You’re terrible,” he growled, nose wrinkling, but you nodded, winking. Your fingertips found the opening in his boxer briefs, glancing off of his skin and Logan hissed loudly, head dropping forward. Anyone looking would have thought it was in defeat, but you knew that he was simply looking down and following the movement of your hand. “But I love every fucking second of it.” Of course you do. You kept shooting with one hand and stroking him with the other, knowing that there was nowhere near enough time to get Logan worked up enough for him to finish, but that you could get him going. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Logan leaned his head back, the gun aimed with his right hand, his left on his lap, fingers pressed against yours. What are you doing, Delos? He guided your hand in the dark, applying more pressure, and you heard him say your name under his breath, the end of it turning into another groan as he twitched beneath your hand. There’s no way. But even as the ride continued, slowly twisting you past the mechanical figures, you realized that you might have miscalculated, not taking into account Logan’s penchant for PDA and how aroused he got when you touched him. I’ve been teasing him all day, I should stop. 

Luckily for both of you, you watched as the room grew brighter, signaling the end of the ride. Quickly, Logan pushed your hand away from his lap, squeezing your fingers before letting them go to pull his zipper back up, adjusting himself through his pants while he sat up straight, breath escaping through his nose as he bit down on his lower lip. “Logan.” You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he shook his head, swallowing hard. As the ride pulled into the station and the bar went up, you slid out of the car, Logan following closely. 

“Stay in front of me.” His voice was strained and you nodded as you followed Emily and her parents down the hallway to the TV monitors where you could pull up your picture. Oh, shit, I forgot about… As you and Logan stopped walking, Emily quickly jabbed at the screen and you heard him swear under his breath. Oh, I hope it’s as blurry as it usually is. “Em, we don’t need ours, just get yours.” Logan cleared his throat. “It’s -”

“There you are!” The girl’s voice drew your attention to the screen above her head, where your picture was displayed. “You and Uncle Logan aren’t even paying attention.” Your eyes widened, Logan hissed and Juliet forced a laugh into a cough as everyone’s eyes focused on the screen, on which a slightly blurry image showed you and Logan holding your blasters - Logan’s was pointed downward, yours was angled toward his side of the car, but it was the position of your bodies that told the whole story. “What’s your email, Uncle Logan?” You tried not to laugh as Logan recited the address to his niece, eyes still on the picture on the screen. His head was tilted down, and you were looking at Logan’s lap, too, leaning forward, your hands hidden by the front of the car. Whoops. You glanced up at Juliet again, the woman’s eyes bright with a mixture of shock and amusement. So sorry, Juliet. 

“Thank you, Emily.” Logan cleared his throat, shaking his head and stepping next to you. One glance downward told you that things were back under control, and this was confirmed as Logan pulled you close, kissing the side of your head. “You’re the fucking worst.” But he wasn’t mad, and though your face was bright red, you glanced up at Mark, who was grinning. At least they understand. Within a few minutes - both images sent - the group of you were walking back toward Main Street, which was crowded with people, most of them headed toward the exits. “Wait a second. Stop.” Logan tugged on your arm, fingers closing around your elbow. “Look.” He raised his arm and pointed at one of the vendors, who was holding a large bunch of balloons - most of which were brightly lit, the interior Mickey-shaped portion in red, white or green. “Didn’t you say that you wanted a picture holding them?” 

“Logan, I said that like two years ago, when we were -”

“Yeah, I know. It was before we lived together.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well? What are you waiting for?” You shook your head, pressing your lips together. 

“Logan, it’s silly, it’s just -” But he cocked his head to the side, waiting, until you finally gave in and started walking toward the vendor. You waited in line, Emily joining you at Logan’s insistence and when you made it to the front of the line, you smiled. “I was just hoping I could get a picture with the…” The vendor smiled back at you, motioning for you to wrap your hand around the ribbons attached to the balloons before she slid her hand further down, giving herself room to back out of the picture. 

“Wait, she can’t hold them?” Logan questioned the vendor, who shook her head, explaining that she had to keep ahold of them just in case. “Then I’ll buy ‘em.” Logan shrugged, reaching for his back pocket. “All of them.” What? 

“Logan, that’s not… no way, we don’t need fifty....” But he was already handing the woman his credit card while she counted the individual strings, giving him a total, the amount not even phasing him. As soon as the transaction had been completed, the woman let go of the strings and you took possession of the balloons, Logan stepping back and raising his phone as you posed, the smile on your face giant. Even after a full year of marriage - three years of being with Logan, he was still finding ways to surprise you, ways to make the things you didn’t vocalize happen. You weren’t used to having his endlessly disposable income, and knew you never would be… but Logan, even when he spoiled you, didn’t make it a huge deal. It was just another thing to him, something that he wanted to and could do, so he did it. Oh, Lo. Your picture taken, you handed the bunch of balloons to Emily, letting her parents take a few shots of her before she handed the balloons back to you. “Ok, Logan, what do we…” You took a deep breath, making your decision and separating two of the balloons from the bunch and handing the strings to Emily. “One for me, one for you.” She nodded, stepping back toward her parents while you turned back to Logan. 

“Alright, what are you going to…” He paused, seeing the look on your face and lowered his head, grinning. “That’s fine.” With a grin of your own, you turned back to the employee, holding the bunch of balloons out to her. Merry Christmas. 

“Here.” She looked confused, frowning. “Give them away.” The young woman’s jaw dropping, she reached back for the ribbons, holding them tightly in her fist. “Hand them out ‘til they’re gone.” With a nod, you turned away from the woman, reaching for Logan’s hand. “Alright, Lo. Let’s go.” The smell of gingerbread followed you out of the park, the five of you separating on the plaza while you and Logan waited for your hotel shuttle and the other three walked toward theirs, the balloons bobbing above Emily’s head as they got further away. “You ready to get back, Logan?” His arm was around your shoulders, both of yours wrapped around his midsection as you waited for your ride with a small group of people. “It’s been a long day.” 

“It has,” he agreed, inhaling deeply. “And you’ve been teasing me all day.” Though his tone was conversational, you caught the longing in it, the promise. “It’s time to repay the favor.” As the shuttle pulled up, you felt yourself shiver - but it wasn’t from the cold. I’m gonna hold you to that, Logan. 

--- 

The ride back to the hotel seemed even longer than the one to the park, you again sitting on Logan’s lap, his chin tucked back against your shoulder. He took a picture of the two of you in that pose, his eyes as dark as you’d ever seen them in the artificial lighting of the shuttle but both of you looking as happy as possible. He’d posted it to his account within minutes of taking it, his fingers flying over the keyboard on his phone and he watched over your shoulder, a laugh leaving your mouth as you read the caption - The first night of Christmas: Disney with Mrs. Delos - and felt him tighten his arms around you. 

You barely registered the walk through the hotel lobby and the elevator ride up to your room, but you were acutely aware of Logan’s hand flat on your back beneath your hoodie, the way he pushed you forward, urging you back to the room as quickly as possible. He had his key in the slot before you could even reach for yours, the door opening inward as you re-entered the room you’d left so many hours before, you kicking your shoes off. “Clothes off,” he whispered as his lips latched onto your neck from behind, the quiet click of the door loud in the otherwise silent room. “Now.” He dropped his hands from your body as you turned to face him, reaching for the hem of your top. “Wait.” Logan reached up, hand reaching for the headband you still wore, pulling it off of your head and tossing it - along with his - onto the chaise against the wall. “Alright. Go ahead.” He winked at you as you pulled your hoodie over your head, dropping it to the floor and stepping back toward Logan, who watched silently. 

You ran your hands up his stomach and to his chest, leaning in and kissing your husband’s jaw as he placed his hands on your shoulders, long fingers slipping beneath the straps of your bra. “I’m sorry that I teased you all day, Logan.” You grazed your teeth against his beard, fingers working to undo the buttons of his thermal shirt. 

“No, you’re not.” He was speaking quietly, hands moving the straps slowly and deliberately down your arms. “And I’m not, either.” You’re not? “You know me so well, know what buttons to push, what…” He dipped his head down, kissing the top of your shoulder. “What to say to get me goin’.” His lips moved toward your neck, hands dropping from your arms to your waist, your palms flat on his chest. “All I wanted all goddamn day was you, and not bein’ able to act on that?” He groaned, biting down on your skin, which caused you to gasp quietly. “Made me want you more.” His hands tightened on your waist and Logan pulled you closer to him, falling silent. 

You turned your head to look up at him, raising one hand to run your fingers through his hair and felt yourself smiling. The urgency was there - you felt it, coursing through your veins, but it was no different than any other day with Logan - you always wanted him, always needed him, and couldn’t imagine ever feeling any different. “You’ve got me, Lo. What now?” He sniffed, running his tongue over his lower lip and sliding one hand up your bare back, fingers catching on the closures of your bra. 

“First, I’m gonna help you take this off,” he said before swallowing. “Then I’m gonna step back from you so that I can take -” You rose onto your tiptoes, kissing him hard on the mouth and pulling on his hair. Shut up, Logan. He undid the fastenings with one hand and you felt the material loosen against your chest, sliding down to expose your breasts, but he didn’t break the kiss. You sighed into Logan’s mouth, feeling his tongue moving against yours, fingers digging into your back and waist, just above the top of your jeans. “Little impatient, hmm?” Logan finally pulled away, taking a deep breath.  Yes. 

“I am, Lo. I just want…” He let go of you, reaching down to pull his own shirt off, the material dropping from his fingers to the floor. He stood in front of you wearing only his jeans and boots, and you shrugged out of your bra and then reached forward, undoing the button on his jeans, hooking your finger into the material and urging him forward. “You, Logan. Don’t make me…” You shook your head, hand moving up from his waist to his chest again, nails dragging over his skin. “Fuck, Logan.” He’s doing this on purpose. Standing up straight, you reached down, undoing the button on your own jeans and pushing them down your hips. “Need to take those pants off, Delos. Boots too.” Tearing your eyes away from him, you removed the rest of your clothing, standing in front of Logan as he did the same. 

You watched his long fingers untie the bootlaces, hands pulling them from his feet before he tossed them toward the wall, socks following quickly after. “Look at me.” It was a command, but you didn’t feel like he was forcing you, and you brought your eyes back up to Logan’s, waiting. You glanced down and watched as he removed his boxer briefs and jeans in one movement, pushing them down and then stepping out of them, kicking them away. “We’ve already broken in the bed.” He licked his lips, reaching for you and moving your hair over one shoulder, lowering his mouth to your skin. You felt his tongue tracing along your collarbone, hands moving down your arms and then against your ribs, thumbs stroking over the area beneath your bare breasts. “What’s next?” 

He kissed your jaw and you raised both arms, wrapping them around his neck and shoulders to keep him close, lips moving to his ear. “How ‘bout the dresser, Mr. Delos?” Logan groaned, nodding once and his hands dropped back down your body, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you. You tightened your hold on him as he stepped across the room, using one arm to support your weight while he swept things off of the top of the dresser beneath the TV. Heartbeat loud in your ears, you glanced down, watching two cups, a remote, a few cords and some papers scatter to the floor before Logan set you down on the smooth, cool surface, hands balling into fists, knuckles on either side of your body as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“This works.” He swallowed, nodding. “This is…” Logan kissed you without warning, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and leaning even closer, pushing you backwards so that your shoulders were against the wall next to the flatscreen, though your knees were still bent over the front edge. “Spread your legs.” You did as he requested, Logan’s hands moving to your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh. “All you, Mrs. Delos.” His lips brushed against yours and then so did his tongue, tracing the edge of your lower one. “All you.” You nodded twice, reaching forward with one hand and wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing as you sat up straight, scooting forward and hooking your legs around Logan’s thighs. “Fuck. That’s what I’ve been waitin’ for.” 

He was solid and hot in your hand, skin smooth against your palm and as you stroked him, you let out a low whine, appreciating every second of intimacy that you and Logan shared. The first time you’d been with him in the Bahamas, it had been fast and intense, neither of you knowing exactly what to expect. The second time - nearly two and a half months after you’d moved to Los Angeles, you’d taken things slower, Logan’s hands and mouth working over every inch of your body before he’d slid into you. But each time since had been a combination of the two, your bodies seeming to know what the other needed; even the night after finishing your bet in Logan’s dimly lit bedroom in the Delos mansion hadn’t been a frenzied as that first night, but as you ran your thumb over Logan’s tip, hearing him hiss out a breath, you were suddenly desperate for your husband - needing to feel him inside of you without any more delay. 

Protection wasn’t necessary - the tiny implant in your arm ensured that - and so you didn’t hesitate in guiding him to where he needed to be, raising your gaze to meet his, Logan’s pupils enlarged as he waited for your next move. You felt him against you and caught your lip between your teeth as you rolled your hips slightly, the muscles in your legs tightening as you pulled Logan closer and inched toward the edge of the dresser in the same movement. “Shit!” He slid into you smoothly despite the lack of foreplay, and as soon as that happened, you felt the mood in the room shift, control passing back to Logan as easily as he’d given it up to you in the first place. His hands slid up toward your body as he rocked his hips into you, fingers curling over your hipbones and then down, ensuring that your body was steady. “Need you to touch me,” he murmured, lips against your neck. “C’mon.” You nodded, uncrossing your legs from behind his and letting them drop, allowing Logan to widen his stance slightly, giving him more power behind his thrusts. 

As you brought your hands up to his back, you felt the bite of the edge of the dresser against the back of your legs, Logan’s thrusts becoming more controlled. “Logan.” You moaned his name out, your nails digging into his back as you tilted your head to the side, exposing your throat to him. He replied with yours in a tone that you rarely heard from him outside of the bedroom, breath warming the dampened skin beneath his lips as he worked his way back up to your face, sucking on the skin that he covered one moment and then biting down on it the next. By the time his mouth was on yours again, you were panting, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted. He took advantage of your condition, kissing you sloppily as you cried out, one hand gripping your hip tighter, the other letting go and moving to the back of your head, cradling the base of your skull in his long fingers. Jesus. 

“Touch me,” he whispered when he pulled away to breathe, his nose wrinkled and his lip curled up, teeth bared. “You couldn’t keep your hands offa me all day, and now -” You groaned, letting go of his back and moving your hands to the front of his body, pushing backwards on his shoulders to create space between you. “Fuck.” He was breathing hard too, the movement of his hips slower as he waited and watched you, eyes hooded. You nodded at him, rolling your neck as you licked your lips, fingers curled as they moved downward, faint red marks trailing behind them on his skin. 

“You want this, Lo?” He nodded, glancing down at your hands, at the place where your bodies connected. “Yeah, I know.” Hands still traveling down his chest, you dug in a little harder, leaning forward to kiss his sternum, the feeling of his chest hair different but not unwelcome against your lips, parting them to suck gently on his skin. He hissed again, and your hands reached his abdomen, Logan’s hand tightening on your head and the one on your hip letting go as he ran it back up your side, your entire body shivering beneath his fingertips. You felt how tense his muscles were beneath your fingers, the coarse hair beneath his navel rough against your hands as you looked up at him, lips still pressed against his skin. His head was tilted back, eyes closed, and while you could catch him off guard, you chose to - moving your mouth to one of his nipples and sucking it into your mouth before you bit down. 

He cried out, immediately looking down at you again, and as you felt his hips falter for the first time, you pulled your hands and mouth away from his body, leaning back on the dresser and bracing yourself, lips pressed together. Your turn now, Logan. You’re close, I can feel it. The changed angle allowed him to deepen his thrusts, and without worrying about your hands on his skin, you once again wrapped your legs around him, staring up at your husband. Logan’s left hand was pressed against your leg where it joined your body, thumb in the crease of skin, but his right, no longer tangled in your hair, was traveling slowly up your stomach, fingers flat and palm warm. He was entirely focused on his hand’s movement, eyes on his fingers as they approached the bottom of your breasts before diverting from the center of your body, pushing one breast up and allowing his thumb to swipe over the fullest part, lingering against the peaked nipple. Fuck, Logan. You closed your eyes at the contact, nodding your head and without thinking, removed one hand from the dresser, bringing it to the apex of your thighs. I need… I’m… “Stop.” Logan spoke one word and your hand froze just above your skin, eyes snapping back to his. “You don’t need to do that.” 

“Lo, I -” He let go of your chest, sliding his hand back down your stomach and shook his head, mouthing the word ‘no’ before he touched you, knuckles pushing against your skin as his thumb moved slowly against you, forcing your eyes closed. He knew what he was doing - Logan always did, applying pressure as you once again dropped your hand, gripping the edge of the dresser hard. “Logan, please, I -” You swallowed, opening your eyes again and looking up at him, unsure of what you wanted to say. “Logan, you -”

He pulled out of you almost completely at the same time as he sped up the movement of his finger - catching you off guard, and with one final, deep thrust, Logan gripped your hip tighter, sending you over the edge. You fought to keep your eyes open, body tensing and then relaxing, your weight shifting back onto your elbows as your muscles contracted around him, toes curling. You moaned loudly, eyes locked on Logan and you nodded twice, urging him on with the tightening of your legs, even though you were sensitive almost to the point of overstimulation. He continued moving his hips, dropping his right hand away from your body and covering your left with it, fingers falling between yours easily. You gripped his hand, his name leaving your lips as his hips met yours - over and over, and you forced yourself to sit partially up, reaching for him and pressing your hand against his chest. Come on, Lo. He opened his eyes to look at you, and you watched as he scanned your face, taking in your flushed skin and damp brow, the parting of your lips and the way you were looking at him, and that’s all it took - Logan’s nose wrinkled, his eyes closed and you felt warmth inside of you as he came, hips still moving - but much less fluidly. “Oh, shit.” 

His head drooping down toward his chest, Logan took a large breath, his grip on your hand relaxing, and your hand dropped from his chest as you sat up all the way, legs falling from Logan’s body to rest against the wooden dresser. “Hey, Lo.” You spoke quietly, bringing the hand that had been on his chest up to the side of his face, stroking his cheek with the back of one finger. “You alright?” He nodded, still looking down, and without speaking, he shifted his hips, pulling out of you with a low hum. “Let me get you a towel.” You leaned in, kissing him gently and he stepped to the side, allowing you to hop off of the dresser and head for the bathroom on still-unsteady legs. You wet a towel for him and then one for yourself, walking back into the bedroom and handing it to Logan, before you busied yourself, cleaning up your own skin and then turning around to wipe down the dresser, too. 

“Here.” You glanced over your shoulder at Logan, who was holding out his towel to you, a smile on his face. “I know you’re goin’ back in there.” Of course you do. Taking the damp cloth from his hand, you winked at him and then went back into the bathroom, taking your time getting ready for bed - using the bathroom, brushing your teeth, washing your face - and by the time you walked back out into the bedroom, Logan had stood up from the edge of the bed, boxer briefs pulled back on. “I’ll be right back, alright?” You nodded and Logan leaned down to kiss you on the mouth - taking his time, the fingers of one hand trailing up your spine - before he, too disappeared into the bathroom. 

You plugged both of your phones in to charge and pulled one of Logan’s t-shirts on to sleep in, not bothering with pants or underwear, and then crawled into bed, a satisfied smile on your face as you laid back against the pillows. Logan took much less time in the bathroom than you did, and after a quick detour to his overnight bag, he sat down next to you on the bed, reaching over with his left hand to take yours. What’s happening? “Logan?” He didn’t say anything, using his thumb to turn your engagement and wedding bands, and you sat up, suddenly worried. “Logan, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head and looking at you, blinking. “I have something for you.” What? You cocked your head, noticing for  the first time that Logan was holding a small box in the hand that wasn’t holding yours. What’s… “Logan, what is that?” That looks like… He laughed, lifting the hand and holding the box up in front of your face. “Logan Delos…” 

“It’s not what you think, I promise. Take it.” You did, pulling your hand away from his so that you could open it. It is what I thought it was, what are you… “I was talking to Juliet last week.” Logan cleared his throat as you used two fingers to pull the silicone ring out of the box, the shiny bronzed color gleaming even in the low light. “She said you told her that you were… worried about spending three weeks at the beach with your other rings.” You groaned quietly. Why would she tell him that. “So… I bought you another ring.” You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “I get it, I really do. Those rings mean a lot to you, and I don’t want you to… spend the whole trip worrying about them, or looking for excuses to take them off so nothing happens to ‘em.” Logan held his hand out and you placed the new ring into it, finally looking up at your husband. “But I’m not going weeks without you wearin’ anything on your finger.” You bit back a laugh at the serious look on his face. “I married you three times, and I want you to have a ring, so… this is my solution.” 

“Logan, I would have worn them, I just…” He shook his head, reaching for your left hand and pulled all three rings off in one movement, leaning over and setting them on the bedside table. Your hand felt light without them - the missing weight a strange feeling - but as Logan slipped the new band onto your finger, you smiled. It’s perfect. “Logan, it…” You held your hand up in front of your face, feeling your smile grow. “That’s perfect.” 

“It’s not the same, but it works.” He nodded, smiling too, and you felt your heart thumping in your chest as you looked at Logan. He just wants people to know I’m his. “We’ll put the other ones in the safe when we get home tomorrow, this one too,” he said, taking your right hand in his and squeezing the ends of your fingers for emphasis. “But as soon as we get -”

“Logan, I don’t care what I have on my finger. I’m your wife, and that’s not going to change.” You grinned at him, reaching over and pulling your rings off of the table, putting them back on your finger along with the silicone one. “Besides, all these diamonds didn’t seem to deter anyone today, maybe something simple will do -” But you were cut off as Logan tackled you backwards, his weight settling on top of you as he buried his face in your neck, shaking his head back and forth, his fingers digging into your sides as he tickled you. You laughed out loud as you felt his beard scratching against your skin, both hands going into his hair and tugging, back arching off of the bed. “Logan, come on!” He laughed too, finally pulling away and looking down at you, a lazy smile on his face. 

“Nothin’ simple about the way I feel about you, and you know that.” Logan swallowed, the look in his eyes serious. “None of them matter.” You nodded, relaxing into the mattress as Logan leaned down, kissing you again. “None of ‘em ever mattered.” You lost yourself in the kiss, and when Logan finally pulled back, rolling off of you and reaching over to turn the light off, you sighed, turning onto your side and facing him. 

“Thank you for today, Logan.” He settled in next to you, his hand moving up to push the hair away from your face. “It was the best way to start this vacation.” Logan nodded, his eyes moving over your face. “I hope that you had fun, even though I’m not a Disney princess…” He groaned, shaking his head and rolling onto his back, one hand covering his eyes. One more time, Delos. “But I’m not done with you yet, Lo.” He peeked at you through his fingers and you winked at him again, moving so that you were straddling his hips, hands flat against his chest. “You did just give me another ring, and that’s enough reason to -” 

He groaned again and cut you off with a kiss, using both hands to pull you down and against him, but you felt him smiling against your lips, his hips lifting off of the bed to meet yours. Feels like you’re not too mad at me, Logan… 

---

[writersblockfreeflow]

You don’t have a Codeword (Part Eight)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six  Part Seven

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Words: 2063

Author’s Note: A few things...

1) Thank you so much for being so patient and supportive with me as I worked to get back to A+ health. I really appreciate it and I hope you all can forgive me for the month-long hiatus.

2) I originally planned for this part to come out today, as I finished editing it last night. Imagine my surprise when I was finishing the final touches this morning and news about Marvel/Disney’s split with Sony broke through. I may or may not have spent most of the day between news and social media wondering what this could mean for the Holland-Spiderman storyline.

3) As we get closer to the end of this story, I wanted y’all to know that the parts will now be released further apart, instead of my original every-other-day timeline. This is because a lot of responsibilities were pushed upon my health concerns, and I reallyyyyyyyyy need to catch up on everything. Thank you for understanding!

You and Peter were running late. After landing on his apartment building, he quickly changed back into his regular clothes and began guiding you through the building. He said he would’ve lead you down the fire escape to his room, however it would just pose too many questions that he didn’t want to answer.

The building looked vaguely familiar to the building Peter took you to the night you told him the truth. You asked Peter if your suspicions were right, but he just blushed and looked away, changing the topic to how excited he was to see his friends. His smile reflected on your face until a voice in your head distracted you.

The nagging voice reminded you that you would be seeing the timers of Peter’s loved ones. It reminded you of the timer above Peter himself. The overwhelming feeling started coming back.

“(Y/N)” Peter called, waving his hands in front of you. You hadn’t noticed that he stopped in front of you, standing next to what you could assume was his apartment door. You whispered your apologizes but he frowned in response. Turning away, Peter bit his lip. After a moment, he spoke up, “Do you know why I-“

The door opened, stopping Peter mid-sentence. You turned to your father, who now stood in the doorway.

“Took you two long enough.” He teased with a small smile, grabbing both your and Peter’s shoulders and pulling the two of you into the apartment. You barely had time to glance around the home before someone was already eagerly shaking your hand.

“It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Ned. I’m Peter’s best friend!” The boy greeted, still shaking your hand. You smiled at him as you tried not to glance up at the numbers that danced above his head. You looked beside you, however Peter was no longer there. You fought the urge to bite your lip and cross your arms as you responded to his best friend.

“Hi Ned. I’m (Y/N)” If he noticed the nervousness in your voice, he didn’t comment on it because he quickly began asking you about what it was like living around the Avengers. You responded to every question he had and took this time to look around the apartment. It was small but comforting. Your eyes traced the walls that were decorated with pictures of Peter’s family. Ned’s questioning was soon interrupted by another voice, one you didn’t recognize. Your eyes met with an older woman.

“Ned, sweetie? Can you help MJ and Peter bring the food to the table?” The woman gently asked. Ned looked at her abruptly, nodding his head, taking one more glance at you, before disappearing to the kitchen. “So you’re (Y/N). I’m Peter’s aunt, you can call me May.” She smiled down at you, as you looked at her gratefully. It was nice to have peace from the questions.

“Hey there, Sleepy” A voice came from behind you. A smile quickly found its way onto your face upon hearing it. Turning around, you came face to face with the Happy Hogan. Before Happy was in charge of Spiderman’s development, he was tasked with checking in on you. Although, you mostly stayed in your room- giving you the nickname ‘Sleepy’. A smile was returned to you as he ruffled your hair. You feigned annoyance as you tried to fix your hair back. He chuckled as he walked around you to stand next to May.

“It’s very nice to meet you May.” You politely greeted, feeling a lot more at ease with a familiar face around. You slightly turned your head to look at Happy, your voice taking more of a playful tone to it “Long time no see, Grumpy”

“Grumpy?” Asked May, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, turning to Happy. His cheeks grew a light pink shade, flustering when her eyes landed on him. You looked at him questioning. Was he blushing? Should you help?

“When I was younger, I was really into Snow White and the 7 dwarfs. And…” You trailed off, hoping she understood the reference. You were more interested in Happy’s response, however. May softly laughed as she nodded in understanding, her eyes twinkling as they met Happy’s.

“Why Grumpy?” She wondered. You smiled in memory as Happy looked at you, shaking his head slightly as the corners of his mouth took a slight upturn.

“He can’t help but get grumpy around me. One time, when he was especially wound up, the kid heard him grumbling to himself in front of the mirror about how ‘one of these days, I’m going to put Tony Stark in his place’” Your dad chimed in, putting his arm around your shoulders. He quickly looked between May and Happy, “But I think you might need to change it to Bashful, with that look” He joked. Happy choked on air as you nudged your dad in the ribs. “What?” Happy grew a deeper shade of red, so you quickly changed the subject, asking May about her life. He looked over to you, grateful for the change in topic, while your dad snickered beside you.

“Dinner is ready!” Peter called out from another room. May lead the three of you to where Peter and his two friends set up for dinner. The table held 6 chairs, and it looked like they grabbed a random chair from a different room to fit the 7 of you. Almost immediately, May took the head of the table. Happy took the seat to the right of May and Tony next to him. Peter took the other head of the table with Tony to his left and MJ to his right. Ned sat next to her and you went to sit between him and May.

The dinner was delicious but otherwise uneventful. Peter was speaking to his friends and family with ease and you couldn’t help but rest your eyes on him for the majority of the time. You justified it by explaining to yourself that he did say it was okay to do so when you were feeling overwhelmed and you were. He surrounded by his loved ones, and unbeknownst to them, his time was running out.

Peter’s time shortening was your fault even if you didn’t want to acknowledge it. And here you were surrounded by the people who loved him and who may have to live without him because of you. You could only hope that you were wrong. Taking a deep breath, you focused on your almost empty plate. You were full and awkwardly pushed the food around on your plate.

Throughout the dinner, Ned engaged in different conversations from TV shows to movies with you. You were trying your best to keep up, however you were easily distracted by Peter and MJ in their own private conversation. You tried not to let the sour taste in your mouth change how you behaved, slightly wishing that it was you that was having private conversations with the boy sitting on the other side of the table.

The wish only grew when you heard Peter laugh at something she said as she pushed his shoulder in mock anger. Ned stopped talking upon noticing your attention was elsewhere.

He sighed, envy etched onto his face, “Yeah, young love…” The sour taste returned, this time paired with a sinking feeling filling your chest. You looked down at your plate once more, trying to think of something- anything- to change the topic to. Your hopes were dashed as Ned continued, “Honestly, sometimes I think they were probably made for each. They are both into the weirdest things, you know?“  

No, you didn’t know. From all your talks with Peter, he never mentioned anything that you would consider weird. Did that mean he did not feel comfortable sharing with you? You felt yourself sinking in your chair as emotions you never felt before over took you. It felt like there was a weight pushing down on your chest and you couldn’t focus on anything else that came out of Ned’s mouth. You wondered if you even had a right to feel the way you did. You’ve only just met Peter, but the anchor in the pit of your stomach didn’t lighten the load you felt in your throat.

“The fair is in town. (Y/N), have you been before?” May interjected as you felt Happy’s and your dad’s eyes land on you, softly trying to provide comfort. Your dad’s eyes then flitted over to Ned, narrowing slightly. Guilt seeped into your heart. It wasn’t Ned’s fault. MJ and Peter stopped their conversation at the question, turning towards you. You felt the tips of your ears burn as you straightened up in your chair.

“No, I didn’t even realize there was one that came to town.” You shook out, your voice a little uneven from the added attention on you. You coughed, trying to clear your throat as May smiled gently.

“Oh! You should go then, you should all go. I’m not sure how much longer they’ll be in town.” Your stomach tied in knots. You’ve always wanted to go, however the sight of timers made it almost impossible. But this time would be different, you thought, this time you would have a distraction. The knots started to loosen as you grew giddy at the thought of being able to attend and see what it was all about.

Before you could give your response, you remembered… Today wasn’t about you. You turned to look at Peter, biting your lip in hopes that he would be okay with going. He tilted his head as his eyes scanned your face. You weren’t sure what he was looking for but whatever it was he found, because after a moment he smiled and gave you a nod. You felt the smile return to your face as you turned back to May.

“I would love to” You responded, feeling the tension leave your body. Ned beamed next to you.

“Oh my gosh, you’re going to love it! I go every year. Peter, MJ, and I are going to go next weekend, if you wanted to wait until then.” He rushed out. Your eyes widened, swiftly glancing over to Peter. He made no effort to look away from you, taking a moment to himself, before turning back at Ned with a small smile, wavering in its portrayal.

“How about we go tonight instead?” He asked, slowly and purposefully looking around the table at Tony, you, Ned, and then MJ. Ned pursued his lips, mulling it over in his head. You held your breath, not sure what the response to the change of plans would be. MJ was the first to speak up.

“Ned, it’s not like we were going to do anything tonight anyways. We don’t have lives like that. Let’s just go.” She deadpanned, with a slight roll of her eyes. The harshness of the comment was undercut by the small curl at the edges of her lips. Nevertheless, your jaw dropped at what she said, as Ned and Peter laughed. The adults, other than your father who joined in the laughter, looked slightly uncomfortable at the jab. You rapidly blinked as you looked around the table with wide eyes, not sure how to proceed from the comment. Thankfully, Ned was able to continue.

“Wow, you can’t even let me have my moment in front of the Tony Stark.” He got out in between laughs. He was able to calm down a bit after checking the time, “We should head out soon. I’d rather not stay out ‘til midnight.”

“Heaven forbid you miss your bedtime” MJ loudly whispered. Ned stuck out his tongue at her as more laughs came out. Peter grinned at his friends, eyes softening as he looked between them. You took this chance to observe him. He looked so carefree with them, so happy. You wondered if you would be able to make him laugh as hard as MJ did. You wondered if he would ever look at you with as much ease as he did with Ned. You wondered if his heart pounded in his chest when he looked at you, like yours did.

Peter turned back at you, his grin widening as a soft pink filled his cheeks. 

A warmth replaced the sour taste in your mouth as you grinned back.

Part Nine  (coming soon)

Taglist: @shaydeevee33, @peter-spider-parker-man, @savedbystark, @antisocialprincessxox, @mxxkscreate-write, @stuckonpeterparker, @roserrys, @00midnight-thoughts00, @ironspider-girl, @mikariell95, @sailorcrescentpotter1, @spideykiks

[imassivedreamcollection]

Today is the one year anniversary of Once Upon a Time’s series finale. As a six year watcher, I greatly reveled in the show’s magic, storytelling and characters. I love Emma’s journey, Regina’s romance with Robin and Rumpel’s life as the deliciously naughty Dark One and his romance with Belle. I even found a crush in Zelena. I hope my fellow Oncers also loved the show’s run. 

However, like some others, I thought the show could’ve been more than what it was. 

Here’s some of my thoughts on what I’d do to make the show better, but first let’s start with some things that could stay:

Rumple and Belle’s romance.

Emma and Hook’s romance.

Regina and Robin’s romance.

Red and Dorothy’s romance. 

Henry being Emma and Neal’s son. 

The Neverland/Oz Arc.

The Underworld Arc.

The trio of Aurora, Phillip and Mulan. 

The Frozen Arc. 

The Camelot Arc. 

Henry and Violet’s romance. 

Henry becoming Rumple’s apprentice. 

Jacqueline and James’ journey up the Beanstalk and their raid of the Giants’ treasure. 

Some of the realms untouched by the Curse like Dun Broch. 

Jasmine’s story in Agrabah.

Ariel and Eric eventually leaving the Land without Magic and having adventures in Fairy Tale Land. 

Mulan helping Phillip save Aurora. 

Merida. 

The Author subplot.

Hook’s animosity for Rumple. 

Grumpy romance with a fairy.

Okay on to my ideas. Hope you don’t mind I have a lot: 

One

As much as I liked the Blue Fairy as the go to fairy for help, I think they should’ve had Flora, Fauna and Merryweather instead. Think about it; in the “Sleeping Beauty” movie, they were pretty much the real heroines in the story while in Pinocchio the Blue fairy was only in two scenes. I even thought of Storybrooke names for them:

Flora: Sarah Felton 

Fauna: Josephine Allen

Merryweather: Barbara Johnston 

I even thought of occupations for them: Sarah would be a dressmaker, Josephine a baker and Barbara a cleaning lady. (These are references to the scene where they use magic in the cottage) 

I also thought for them to somehow get their memories back before Emma broke the curse and for them to help Henry make Emma believe. 

I also they should powers connected to nature like in the early story of the movie while it was in development. Flora has the power of plants and flowers, Fauna can talk to animals and Merryweather can use Atmokinesis (weather magic) 

Let’s also have Grumpy have a romance with Merryweather. 

Here’s who I thought should play them: Helena Bonham Carter as Flora, Tina Fey and Debi Mazar as Merryweather. 

Two

Maleficent and Ursula should have been Regina’s allies in Season One. Maleficent being Regina’s deputy mayor and Diablo the crow being her partner and human while Ursula owning a beauty parlor and bringing the latest gossip to Regina. Flotsam and Jetsam being human form too and working in her business. 

Three

Pinocchio/ August Booth should’ve also been part of the main cast. He also should’ve stayed by Emma side at least until their teens when she became a criminal. They also should’ve been shown more of his life in the Land without Magic without his father, Jiminy or the Blue Fairy to guide him. 

Four

Let’s make David’s backstory more simple and make him and James the legitimate sons of King George with David being the nice one due being closer to his mother and James being more like his father. On that note, let’s toss in the tragedy of David’s mother getting killed by thieves when he was little in a raid, leading him to have a further distrust of Hook in Season 3. 

Five

Let’s give the reason for David and Abigail’s marriage alliance be due to Robin Hood and the Merry Men raiding King George’s royal treasury and a failed attempt to steal the Giants’ treasure up the Beanstalk.

Six

Let’s start Snow White life as an outlaw begin with her helping Bluebeard’s wife get away from him. 

Seven

Let’s change how Rumple become the Dark One by somehow having him kill Zoso to end the Ogre Wars and prove he wasn’t a coward. 

Eight

Let’s make Red’s boyfriend Peter the wolf terrorizing the village all along and her having to kill Peter. Later, Peter’s pack learn of his death and want to take their revenge of Red and her Granny. Let’s also not make Red a werewolf. 

Nine

Let’s make Maleficent the daughter of Chernabog and Vidia, the Black Fairy. Let’s also have Clarion, the Queen of the Fairies send Terrance to destroy their union, but Chernabog kills him. Let’s show Maleficent’s childhood and how she became the Mistress of all Evil too. 

Ten 

Let’s set Tiana’s story in the “original” Enchanted Forest and make Mama Odie her godmother. Let’s have Angela Bassett play her. 

Let’s make Dr. Facilier’s dept be with Hades and the Underworld. When the gang to the Underworld, he should have a role in the story arc. 

Let’s make Tiana in Storybrooke a worker at Sarah’s bakery.

Eleven

Let’s give Regina a better reason to hate Snow than what happened in the show. Let’s also make her the girl Queen Eva abused when she was younger a la what happened to Cora in “The Miller’s Daughter”. And give us a love triangle between Regina, Eva and Leopold. 

Twelve

Let’s make Robin Hood at first what like he was in the Wish Realm (stealing so he could be rich) and somehow Snow and Charming change him for the better before or after the Curse was broken. 

Thirteen

Let’s make Flynn Rider a former member of the Merry Men who betrays them, stealing some of their loot and running off to eventually meet Rapunzel. 

Fourteen

As I’ve said let’s keep Jasmine’s story in Agrabah, but lets have her never leave Agrabah for the Land of Untold Stories and married Aladdin by the time the Curse is cast; in short let’s keep the Aladdin story from the movie in the show, genie included. Let’s also have the genie protect Agrabah from the curse. Let’s also maybe have Ali Baba put the Genie’s lamp in the Cave of Wonders. I see Aladdin’s genie as not the one who meets Leopold on the show. 

Fifteen 

Let’s keep the number of realms to a minimum: Fairy Tale Land (The Enchanted Forest, Arendelle, Dun Broch, Camelot, Agrabah)  Neverland, Oz, Wonderland, The Underworld ... Okay that may not be a minimum. Sorry. Anyway let’s lose, 1920s England, Victorian England, The Land of Untold Stories, New Enchanted Forest.. Too many realms in the original show, don’t you think? 

Sixteen

Let’s fully tell characters stories and make them count to the overall plot and stick primarily to fairy tales and no classic literature works like Jekyll and Hyde and 2000 leagues under the Sea or movies like 101 Dalmatians.

Seventeen

Let’s have Rumple hear of how Geppetto can build a magic wardrobe and have him kidnap Geppetto and force him to make it like how Ratigan kidnapped Olivia’s father in “The Great Mouse Detective”.

Since I said that, here’s how I see Pinocchio’s story:

Pinocchio’s adventure begins when he’s sent on an errand. After escaping Stromboli, he discovers Geppetto’s been kidnapped. He and Jiminy sent sail to find him and on the way stumple upon Pleasure Island. After escaping there, he finally finds Geppetto and they escape, but Rumple sends Monstro after them. They survive and the Blue Fairy turns him into a real boy and for Geppetto and Pinocchio to seek asylum in Snow White’s kingdom. The End.

Eighteen 

Let’s name the Blue Fairy Evangeline (guess why I named her that. Think of a firefly character you may know) and sadly have her killed by Rumple before or after the curse.

Nineteen

Let’s give Rumple this reason for asking for the first born babies of Cora and Cinderella: to use the Time Traveling Spell to make sure his son was never lost to him.

Twenty

Let’s make The Dragon Mushu from “Mulan” and the mentor of Mulan and give him a role in Storybrooke.

Twenty One

Let’s give Mulan and Phillip Storybrooke counterparts. Let’s make Mulan a self’defense teacher at a dojo and bisexual and in a relationship with Phillip.

Twenty Two

Let’s make Aurora the only “Sleeping Beauty” that Maleficent cursed and have her also curse Phillip as an Yaoguai for him to be saved by Belle and Mulan. In Storybrooke let’s have Maleficent keep cursed Aurora, still asleep, in the basement of her house. 

Twenty Three

Let’s show more characters from Disney and fairy tales like Mad Madame Mim and Goldilocks. 

Let’s make Madame Mim a rival to Maleficent and Goldilocks a stooge for Rumple. 

Twenty Four

Let’s make cursed Eric the boyfriend of Ursula and have cursed Ariel mute with Ursula keeping her voice somewhere at her home or beauty parlor. 

Twenty Four

Let’s have more commotion in Storybrooke after the curse is broken: the Giant trying kill David, Gaston rising a mob to kill Rumple, etc. 

Twenty Five

Let’s have Archie Granny, Ashley, Ariel, Red, The Seven Dwarves in the supporting cast with the Mad Hatter and Flynn Rider and Rapunzel 

Twenty Six

Let’s see more of the Home Office (Greg and Tamara’s group). 

Twenty Seven 

Let’s include more fairy tales like Goldilocks and the Three Bears, The Emperor’s New Clothes and Thumbelina.

Twenty Eight

Let’s make Mother Goose the author of Henry’s book. 

Okay’s that’s all I’ve got.

Thank you to any one who stayed so long to read my thoughts. What do you think? Let me know in the notes section at the bottom of this post.

Thank you for your time and have a good day. 

[maya-tl]

Slice of Life

Author's Note: This fic is inspired by @altruistic-skittles and their Slice of Life Sanders Sides AU, which can be found here. All worldbuilding credit goes to them, I only stitched the ideas together in writing.

Author's Note #2: Due to Tumblr restrictions, the story has been split into three chapters. Next chapter will be posted on Sunday.

Language warning: There's swearing, but it's only a small part of the chapter.

Link to my Ao3 profile will be at the end! Tag list will be in the replies! Enioy!

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

"Roman."

Virgil can hear Patton enthusiastically greeting their neighbour outside, and then Thomas' equally enthusiastic response carries into the house through the wide open front door.

"Get your things, we're going to be late."

He picks up one of the pillows on the couch, brows knitting together tighter when he doesn't find what he's looking for, and he runs another hand through his hair, further messing up the strands that he had tried to brush down earlier. Logan doesn't even acknowledge him from where he's sitting, same book still in his lap.

"We're driving the boss, pops. It's literally impossible for me to be late." his son is in the corner of the room, cooing at the tiny bird perched onto his finger while the other, larger one stares at him from the back of the armchair with what could only be described as contempt.

Much to the despair of both himself and his youngest, Roman had persuaded Patton on the very day they moved into buying him not one, but two pets, albeit on the promise that he would be the one to take care of them.

Of all the things he could have gotten, his eldest had to choose birds.

Virgil would sooner swear off coffee altogether than admit that the feathered troublemakers have actually grown on him.

"Okay, I'm going to be late, which means I'll have to work late, which dad won't be happy about and you know that if he's upset we're all going to be upset." his fidgeting is probably giving off bad vibes, because Baby Blue lets out a particularly pitiful chirp and flies over to proceed making a nest out of his hair, like it does to anyone who ever seems even remotely down.

Baby Blue. Because 'the birds in Snow White totally count shut up Logan'.

"And here I was hoping I could actually turn up to work looking normal for once." he sighs, while Roman pouts like a kicked puppy.

"Guys, Thomas is waiting for you outside!" Patton lets them know as he peeks out from behind the door, eyes darting immediately to his husband's head.

Baby Blue tweets and makes itself more comfortable. Virgil snorts and cracks a smile, trying not to flinch when Patton squeals, taking a picture with the flash on; he's probably running late anyway, might as well indulge.

"Ugh, fine, have it your way." Roman relents, arms crossed and pout firmly in place. "But Zazu will be jealous if I don't give him a proper goodbye!"

Zazu. Because 'I know a macaw is not the same as a hornbill shut up and let me live Logan'.

Zazu, who Virgil is sure would have raised his eyebrows in the most condescending way possible if birds had eyebrows, glides over to the couch, perches himself on Logan's shoulder and pick at his feathers, as if Roman weren't even in the room. His eldest splutters indignantly, and a twitch of the lips is the only sign his youngest gives of finding it amusing.

Virgil doesn't think Zazu is actually capable of showing any emotion other than indifference—he's not even sure if that is an emotion—but the bird tolerates Logan the most and it drives Roman up a wall.

"Roman." Virgil says, handing the tiny blue bird to Patton, who's making eyes at it like it's the cutest thing he's ever seen next to maybe that dog down the street. "Things. Car. Now."

Roman huffs, marching out the room like he's been told to do the impossible, and if he wasn't his kid Virgil would have called him a childish brat the moment he opened his mouth. Spoiled too, because Patton does spoil him and he seems to think himself a prince thanks to it.

Luckily he loves his kids, even if they sometimes drive him up a wall.

"You were looking for something, dad?" Logan's voice pulls him out of his thoughts. His eyes haven't moved from his book and he sounds about as bored as Zazu looks.

"Oh, right." he snaps his fingers, remembering that he was supposed to be scanning the room. "Have you seen my keys?"

***

Thomas very nearly drops his phone and falls over when a tiny bird flies into his face with a trill that sounds suspiciously like a greeting. He chuckles, and he could swear the little thing actually smiles back.

"Aww, aren't you the cutest!" he holds out his finger and is surprised when it lands on it as if it's the most natural thing ever.

"Oh, it likes you! Roman's the only one who's got it to do that so far!"

He turns to Patton, who's wearing one of those smiles that bring out the green in his eyes. There's no shortage of those, that man is such a bright ray of sunlight it's a wonder Thomas didn't go blind when he showed up on his doorstep with a grin and a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the day the family moved in.

"Really? Well, then I'm honoured."

The bird twitters, looking straight at him, like Thomas is expected to tweet back. No wonder Roman talks like he's in a Disney movie—Thomas waved at him from the window once when he saw him picking up the mail and got 'greetings and fair morning, neighbour!' in return.

Honestly, he loves that kid, Roman often reminds him of himself. If he were to shave off about twelve years they would be almost the same person.

Patton nods proudly, as if he's reading his mind. He didn't say that out loud, did he?

"I usually hold it like this." he cups his palms together and the bird instantly glides into his hands, nestling into the warmth. It's the most precious thing Thomas has seen all month, next to maybe that cute dog down the street. "Sometimes it sits on the spine of the book Logan's reading and tries to read with him, it's adorable!"

Thomas laughs, running a finger over its tiny back, and they both practically swoon when it tilts its head back and happily receives all the affection.

"What about Virgil? Do they get along?"

It was the middle of the day the first time Thomas met Virgil, but Virgil looked as if he'd only been awake for about half an hour and had loathed getting out of bed so much that he had to drink five cups of coffee, straight black, just to be able to stand on his own two feet.

Thomas had swallowed his words and the encounter had been beyond awkward; the only consolation was that Virgil had looked just as uncomfortable.

Patton's entire face softens at the question, and it's safe to say Thomas would sooner give up pizza for a week before he told Patton that his husband doesn't seem like the friendliest person.

"He acts all grumpy about it, but he loves them really." he runs his fingers over its wings and the bird definitely smiles. "He joked about getting a haircut because apparently his hair is perfect nest material, isn't that right, Blue?"

He coos at the little bundle of feathers, and Blue has the gal to be so adorable as to look sheepish. Thomas blinks more times than is necessary and thinks that maybe he's been watching too much Disney.

"Nest...?" Patton pulls out his phone, unlocks the screen and shows him a picture. "Oh my goodness that's so cute!!"

Roman suddenly comes stumbling out the front door with two dress bags in one hand and a stack of papers in the other, a backpack hanging from the crook of his elbow and a pen tucked behind his ear. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sanders!! I hope the day finds you in good grace?"

"You know, you don't have to call me that, Roman." Thomas replies while Blue flutters over and tries, to no avail, to help the poor kid.

"Pfshhfpff!" Thomas avoids mentioning that his vacuum cleaner made that noise once. "Nonsense! Manners are underrated!!"

"You need help, Ro?" Patton asks, taking the bags before his son can answer and folding them neatly.

Thomas seizes that moment to ask Roman about the papers, because he doesn't remember the script he gave them having that many pages, and Virgil shows up just as Roman is struggling to explain to him why he deemed it necessary to make some improvements to the dialogue without sounding like he's insulting his writing skills.

It's not very successful.

Virgil puts one foot on the doormat, pauses and then swears, very loudly, throwing both of his hands up.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?"

It's a warm outside for an autumn day, with beautiful weather, barely a trace of clouds in the sky. Virgil's car is still in the driveway, all black and shiny except for a few rainbow stickers plastered on the doors, but only half of it is shadowed by the leaves of the tree in the front yard.

Which means the other half has been sitting in direct sunlight the entire day.

Which explains the giant python currently lounging on the roof of the car, sunbathing like there's no tomorrow and looking extremely bored.

Roman takes one look at the car, shrieks and jumps back about two whole feet, startling both Thomas and the bird, while Virgil promptly loses every ounce of chill he may have possessed in his body.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE—I'M SO FUCKING DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT!!" he gestures so wildly at the snake that it's a wonder his hands don't spontaneously combust. "CAN I HAVE JUST ONE FUCKING DAY WHERE EVERYTHING GOES RIGHT?!?"

Patton sighs, crosses his arms and mutters 'language' in a defeated voice, before leaning into Thomas' space. "Has it been there the entire time?"

"I think so, yeah." Thomas shrugs, like he's just having a casual conversation about politics with his friendly next door neighbour while his husband initiates a one-man shouting match with a snake; the usual. "I mean, it was already there when I got here."

"It looks really tame, for a snake... oh, like a puppy!!" considering Patton's eyes light up like beacons Thomas safely assumes it's the first time he's made that comparison. "Do you think it'll come if I call it??"

"No, I don't think so. I tried that a while back and it didn't work, pretty sure Mr. Slimy Boi doesn't train his snakes." he says, as Patton giggles behind his hand at the silly nickname.

He honestly can't remember where he got it from—he said it once in front of Logan and received a whole lecture about how snake scales are just smooth and they don't secrete slime—but it's stuck with him since childhood.

At some point Thomas forgot the guy's actual name so, he officially became Mr. Slimy Boi to him and everyone who was unfortunate enough to ask him who the unsettling man was and how many snakes is he hiding in that house and why is he wearing a bowler hat that's so weird.

He may be all about loving thy neighbour but he really didn't have it in him to argue with Virgil when he claimed they have a cryptid living next to them.

Thomas has lived here his entire life and could swear that man looks exactly the same as he did twenty something years ago.

"I'm also pretty sure he wouldn't listen to you anyway, that slippery old bastard. I accidentally kicked my favourite football over the fence once and it came out of nowhere and just... ate it. And refused to spit it out."

"Huh." Patton says, brows furrowing in thought. "How long ago was that?"

"Uh..." Thomas drags the syllable, scratching the back of his head. "I... don't remember? It could have been a different snake that just looked exactly like it, actually... how long do snakes live?"

"Morelia Amethistina, commonly known as the amethystine python." Logan, who probably heard his brother's manly scream of terror, declares as he pokes his head out the doorway. "In captivity they tend to have an average lifespan of fifteen to twenty years, but if provided with ideal conditions they could live to about twenty five."

"Aww, thanks Lolo!" Patton clasps his hands tohether and grins at his youngest with so much pride that Logan actually ducks his head, presumably to hide a blush.

"Oh my God, Pat, don't encourage him." Virgil pinches the bridge of his nose and the python, who has ignored every single word to come out of Virgil's mouth so far, looks awfully smug. "Soon he'll want to do studies on it or something and a pet snake is where I draw the line. And we're not going any closer to that house than is necessary either!"

Roman makes a vague noise somewhere between agreement and disgust. "Dad, it's staring at me with its creepy snake face and I don't like it, make it go away!!"

"And how, pray tell, do you propose I do that??"

"Poke it with a stick, throw it over the fence, I don't know, you're supposed to be the adult here!!"

Virgil takes a deep breath and analyses the nest of pure muscle engulfing half of his car for a solid ten seconds. "Lo, how much does this thing weigh?"

"About ninety pounds on average..." the boy adjusts his glasses and squints. "But this one seems to be quite a large breed, so I would place it around one hundred and twenty four."

"Yeah," Virgil says, hands on his hips, "not happening."

"Um, excuse me?" Thomas is staring at his phone, finger raised to get everyone's attention. "I hate to interrupt and I don't wanna seem ungrateful, but we're running a little bit late?? The rest of the group's already there."

Roman lets out a distressed whine, the kind that would end an argument with Patton immediately and earn him multiple of whatever it is he was asking for.

Exhibit A: if Virgil hadn't put his foot down at two birds his son would have turned their entire house into an animal shelter and Patton wouldn't have done a single thing about it.

And they just moved.

"Virgil, sweetheart, maybe it'll move if you ask nicely?" Patton walks up to his husband and puts a hand on his shoulder, and Virgil visibly leans his entire weight into the touch.

Thomas doesn't know them enough to judge yet, but he gets the impression that Virgil is a completely different person with Patton around.

"Perhaps Roman should attempt to talk to it, since he so vehemently believes that Disney princes are real." Logan suggest in his driest voice, which isn't too many tones away from his regular voice.

Roman twists his head around so violently Thomas swears he heard a snap.

"DID YOU JUST BESMIRCH THE NAME OF DISNEY?!?!"

"Now kiddos, what did I say about playing nice—"

"You mean the company tasked with creating fictional characters? I sincerely hope you know the definition of that word, Roman."

"HOW DARE YOU, YOU HEATHEN!!"

"Ro, calm down now—"

"You take creative writing, surely you must have the vocabulary."

"YOU ARE NO BROTHER OF MINE!!!"

Thomas takes turns to stare, first at Patton, who's trying to talk his kids out of getting into a fight, then at Virgil, who looks like he's praying to every God from every religion to take pity on him and end his suffering, and then at the python, who calmly slithers off the car, over to the yard next door and into the house through an open window.

Blue lands on his hand, next to his phone, and watches the screen as Thomas enters the group chat and writes a message announcing that they're going to be late.

Or, well, later than they already are.

***

My Ao3 profile.

[adorkablephil]

Fic: The Happiest Place on Earth

Title: The Happiest Place on Earth Summary: Phil Lester hates his job playing Prince Charming at Disneyland, until another British boy shows up and unexpectedly charms him instead Word Count: 4.6k Rating: Mature Tags: Disneyland, Flirting, Strangers to Lovers, Semi-Public Sex, Hand Jobs Author’s Note: This fic was inspired by the @phanfichallenge’s Disney Challenge. Thanks a million to @ivy625fanfic and @jorzuela for their general wonderfulness, assistance, and encouragement! Also on AO3

The Happiest Place on Earth

Phil pulled off his white NASA t-shirt and black skinny jeans (with the stylish rips that had of course made the jeans ironically more expensive) and began to don the costume that he had rapidly come to despise. He was a fan of colorful clothing, but even he recognized the cheesiness of the bright red polyester pants, and the ridiculously thick white polyester coat always made him sweat like a pig in the Californian summer heat.

God, he missed England! He missed the rain, and the green grass, and the snow in the wintertime. Here, the only greenery was carefully manicured topiary. But he couldn’t control where his father found work, and so he’d relocated with the rest of his family to this godforsaken suburban desert called Anaheim.

Sure, he could have stayed in England on his own, but when not only his mum and dad but also Martyn had all planned the move here together, he hadn’t wanted to be left behind without the three people he was closest to in the entire world. They’d always been a tight-knit family, and he would have missed them terribly.

But he was beginning to think that moving back to England on his own might be the only answer, as working this wretched job at Disneyland had come to seem like a fate worse than death. But he hadn’t been able to find any other work with his degree in English Language and Linguistics. The other Californians he’d met outside of work had joked that his university education had prepared him very well for a career articulately asking, “Would you like fries with that?” Ha bloody ha.

Playing Prince Charming every day might drive him insane, but at least it paid better than McDonald’s. Marginally.

Phil donned the military-style coat with its ridiculously fiddly golden closures and high, scratchy collar, and adjusted the fringed epaulettes on his shoulders, then also the snug belt at his waist. Last, always last, he tugged on the pristine white gloves he was required to wear at all times. Yes, he had to wear not only a thick coat but also gloves in the 33ºC heat. This job sometimes felt death-defying, as if earning his meager wages might actually result in him expiring from heat stroke at any moment.

With his naturally sunny disposition, he had thought that playing a Disney character to amuse children all day would come naturally and even make him happy. But it hadn’t turned out quite as he expected, and his sunny disposition was growing cloudier and cloudier under the bright California sun as he toiled endlessly in this costume so ridiculously unsuited to the local weather.

He slathered his face with sunscreen, since no other skin on his body would be exposed to the sun, before he combed and shellacked his hair into the required unmovable quiff, and then practiced a bright smile as he gazed into the dressing room mirror.

Well, thus started another shift at the happiest fucking place on earth.

***

As he escorted Julie (a.k.a. Cinderella) down Main Street, they maintained their constant smiles and stopped to chat with any park guests who showed an interest. They also, of course, posed for about a thousand photos per hour.

“Oh, you’re even faking a British accent!” a woman in plaid shorts and a striped tank top cooed at him after taking several photos of him with her children as they pelted him with questions about what it was like to be a prince and were he and Cinderella married and where did they live and did they have any kids and a million other questions Phil had to answer a hundred times every day, always making sure to stay in character.

That was the most important part of his job, as the management had stressed over and over during his hiring process and continued to stress nearly every day. He must always stay in character, must always be Prince Charming. Even when one of the overly entitled children kicked him in the shin, he had to laugh it off and tousle the boy’s hair with a faked fondness that potentially put him in danger of getting his hand bitten.

Luckily, the annoying costume gloves would have protected him from whatever rabies the brat might be carrying.

“Your accent doesn’t sound quite right, but it’s good enough to fool the kids, and that’s what matters at Disneyland, right?” The woman grinned at him, showing red lipstick smeared across her front teeth. She made no attempt to control the four children apparently in her care as they ran about and climbed on anything they could get near.

Phil smiled at her, trying not to grind his teeth audibly, and said, “Children certainly are a blessing and a joy, yours especially. It’s been so wonderful to talk with all of you,” and then he took Julie by the gloved hand to guide her away.

“One more picture!” the woman yelled after them, so he and Julie turned, and she looped her arm gracefully through his as they’d been forced to practice a thousand times, and they posed with those bright fake smiles as the tourist snapped a few more photos with her phone before they were released to stroll again down the boulevard full of families sweating in their summer clothing, sure that none of them ever spared a thought for the costumed park employees in their much less comfortable attire.

He thanked his lucky stars that at least he didn’t have to wear one of the non-human costumes, like the fellow who played Mickey Mouse. That guy was always a disgusting, sweat-drenched mess at the end of his shift, but at least he didn’t have to actually talk to the park guests like Phil and Julie did.

It must be much easier to stay in character when you didn’t have to smile or talk.

Suddenly, out of the constant babble around him, Phil noticed an English accent, then another. A family stood nearby, and they were clearly from one of the southern counties. Berkshire, maybe? The voice he had first noticed seemed to belong to an utterly beautiful boy near Phil’s own age, and he couldn’t help but stare a moment until Julie patted his arm to remind him to keep playing his character role.

Always stay in character. Always be Prince Charming. He smiled brightly at the beautiful boy, who raised an eyebrow.

And then suddenly the boy walked away from what Phil could only assume was his family and approached Phil and Julie. “This guy’s a philanderer, you know,” he told Julie, jerking his thumb at Phil. “He’s got loads of other girls on the side. Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel … and who knows how many other hapless women who subscribe to the ridiculous gender roles that require them to passively wait to be rescued by a man instead of proactively getting themselves out of their own stupid predicaments.”

Great. A heckler. They didn’t appear often, but when they did … joy. This one was surprisingly—and intriguingly—articulate, but still … a heckler. Phil forced the smile to stay on his face, nodded politely to the beautiful pain in his ass, and began to lead Julie away. The heckler grinned at him, showing deep dimples that only made him more lovely, and Phil contained a groan of dismay at the bolt of intense desire that shot through him.

“He’s also the villain of the story,” Beautiful Heckler continued loudly as they started to turn away. “Anyone who’s watched the Shrek movies knows that.”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Phil bestowed upon the little asshole his most gracious smile, “my princess and I must continue to visit with our many guests.”

The heckler’s brown eyes went wide as he heard Phil’s voice. “You’re English!” he exclaimed in obvious shock. Phil only nodded, his hands embarrassingly sweaty in those terrible gloves, and tried to extricate himself and Julie from this potentially out-of-character conversation.

“Indeed, I am. It’s been lovely to meet you, but we should continue on our way. Please do enjoy your stay in our magical kingdom.” Julie’s hand tightened on his arm, signaling him to speed up their escape. It wasn’t his job to stand talking to a twentyish twink with gorgeous dimples when there were hundreds of small children and lipstick-smeared mothers waiting to meet their favorite Disney characters come to life.

But Heckler Boy put his hand on Phil’s other arm and asked, “Where are you from? And why are you working at Disneyland, of all places?” He was shaking his head in disbelief, shiny brown curls bouncing slightly.

“I’m from a kingdom far away,” Phil replied in character, ignoring Julie’s increasingly tight squeeze on his arm. “But I journeyed far to find my true love.” He turned to smile at Julie, and she smiled at him with her mouth but glared at him with her eyes.

Phil gave in and nodded his best aloof Prince Charming nod at the beautiful heckler, who was now staring at him in apparent fascination, making Phil want to do nothing but stay there and stare at him in return. But he wasn’t Phil right now, and he couldn’t flirt with anyone but Julie, and he couldn’t be visibly gay—though, honestly, what Prince Charming didn’t seem at least a little gay? So he just patted the boy’s hand on his coat sleeve, wishing that there wasn’t a layer of polyester glove preventing their skin from touching, even just for that brief moment, and then he and Julie continued on with their stroll, only to be stopped almost immediately by a family with two small children who wanted to pose for photos.

Smiling for the tourist’s camera, Phil dared a quick glance in the direction where he’d left the beautiful British boy and saw him still watching Phil, which made him blush a bit. Blushing in this costume was extremely unpleasant, as it only made him even warmer than he already was, but he couldn’t help it when such an attractive guy was watching him like that.

After the family had taken their photos, Phil took Julie by the hand again, tucked her arm through his, and escorted her further into the park.

He didn’t look back toward the boy again.

***

Phil groaned with pleasure as he pulled off the hated gloves at the end of his shift, divesting himself of the rest of the horrible costume as quickly as possible. The entire thing was soaked with sweat. It was lucky the park supplied him with a clean costume each day, because he could never have kept up with the laundry himself.

In another stroke of luck, the “backstage” area had showers, so Phil cleaned up with a thorough soap and shampoo, running the water cool enough to give himself goosebumps, but glad of the temperature change after an entire day of roasting in the sun and polyester.

Donning his own clothes again and giving his black hair a quick combing, he snuck out through the backstage entrance instead of the employee exit he was supposed to use. Character-role employees were forbidden to re-enter the park in their street clothes, lest a guest recognize them, spoiling the oh-so-important illusion. Phil couldn’t have said what inspired him to break the rules today when he never had before, but if he’d been forced to guess, he probably could have intuited that it had something to do with a certain heckler with irresistible dimples.

In a park filled with thousands of people, he was extremely unlikely to even see the guy again, let alone have a conversation with him … but only 10 minutes or so after he left the employee area, he saw him. Phil wondered if maybe the guy wouldn’t recognize him now that he was out of costume, but when their eyes met, the boy immediately grinned and said something to his family before turning and walking toward Phil.

He looked Phil up and down, and his first words to him were, “I like the ripped jeans a lot more than the prince outfit. You look hot in a very different way.”

Phil had no idea what to say to that. He’d sort of secretly hoped to see the guy again, but he’d had absolutely no expectation of the guy actually hitting on him.

“Um,” Phil stammered, “I’m not … I’m not really supposed to talk to guests … when I’m out of costume.” He was blushing again, and he cursed his fair skin for giving him away.

The guy leaned close and said quietly, “What if we go somewhere where people won’t see us?” He smirked.

Phil looked around, then walked toward one of the buildings that housed supplies, then ducked behind it so that he and the boy—who had eagerly followed him—were hidden between the wall and the nearby foliage. With the sun going down and the park beginning to get a little dark, there was very little chance anyone would see them here. But he could still see the beautiful boy in the dimming light.

“I’m Dan,” his beautiful heckler said, and then he leaned in to kiss Phil, just like that.

“Whoa!” exclaimed Phil, pulling away slightly. “I mean … what are you…”

Dan raised his eyebrow again, just as he had when their eyes first met hours ago and he asked smugly, “You don’t want to?” And Phil found himself numbly shaking his head.

“No,” Phil rasped out, his voice exhausted after a day of greeting strangers, then laughed a little. “I mean yes.” And then he smiled his first real, honest smile of the day, and Dan kissed him again, this time with a much more enthusiastic response from Phil.

Phil didn’t even know how long they’d been kissing when he felt Dan’s hands slide underneath the back of his t-shirt, stroking the bare skin of his spine. Phil gasped, and his head fell back slightly at the incredible unexpected pleasure.

“I can get away tonight if you want to … you know … meet up and … do something. Together,” Dan suggested awkwardly, kissing the notch at the base of Phil’s throat and then flicking his tongue out against the sensitive skin there to make Phil moan.

Phil lowered his head to look into Dan’s eyes. “I don’t even know who you are,” Phil protested. “Why are you in California? How long are you here? Are you a student, or do you have a job, or…”

Dan asked wryly, “You don’t really care about any of that, do you? Really?”

But Phil shook his head, then nodded, confused. “No. Yes. I do. I don’t just … do this.”

Dan raised that damned eyebrow again. “You don’t? Because, you know, you could. You could pull almost anybody you wanted. You’re fucking gorgeous, you know. Even better out of that ridiculous costume.” He ran his hands through Phil’s damp, freshly showered hair. “And I like your hair better like this. It looked like plastic before, but it’s actually really soft.” Then he stroked his hands through Phil’s hair to the back of his head and reeled him in for another kiss. He pulled away slightly and whispered, “My family’s here on holiday.” Then he kissed Phil again before breathing against his lips, “I’m on my gap year.” Another kiss, longer this time, his tongue stroking against Phil’s in a maddening caress before he slowly pulled away to kiss the side of Phil’s neck and murmur against it, “And we’re in town for another week. During which time I really really hope I’ll see a lot more of you.” He pulled away to look Phil up and down before blatantly licking his lips. “And I do mean that in every sense.”

Phil leaned back against the wall of the outbuilding, breathing heavily. “Jesus. Do you do this on every vacation? Everywhere you go? Just find some stranger and pull him into a corner and suggest…” He shook his head slightly, not sure how to finish that sentence. Because what exactly was Dan suggesting? Quite a bit, if Phil wasn’t mistaken.

Dan sighed and leaned away slightly. “Do we really have to have this conversation? Because … no. No, I’ve actually never just dragged someone off into the bushes like this before, but I feel like … I don’t know. Both of us being from England, and meeting here, and the way you looked at me, and the shivers I got…”

Phil interrupted him. “You got shivers?”

“Didn’t you?” Dan asked, and for the first time he sounded a little uncertain.

“Yeah,” Phil admitted with a slow grin, finally feeling a little more confident. “But I thought it was just me.”

“It wasn’t just you,” Dan replied. “It was like … an electric shock. Like fate or something, meeting you here. I feel like I’ve known you forever, almost from the first moment our eyes met. I can’t explain it.” He breathed out a sort of frustrated sigh. “Are you really going to make me say all this sappy stuff, or can we just kiss some more, and maybe make plans to meet up later?” He swallowed, then looked at Dan with those warm brown eyes, and they looked happy, which made Phil happy, too. “Because I’d really like to meet up later,” Dan whispered, like it was a secret, then leaned forward to kiss Phil again.

They kissed for a long while, Dan pressing up against Phil, pressing him up against the wall so that Phil could feel that Dan was just as hard as he was. “Won’t your family be looking for you?” Phil gasped, reluctantly pulling his lips away from Dan’s.

“I told them I’d meet them at the front gate after the fireworks,” Dan purred. “There will be fireworks, won’t there?” And he slid his hand down to stroke the front of Phil’s jeans, making Phil groan.

“Yes,” Phil gasped, and he didn’t know if he was answering Dan’s question or responding to Dan’s wayward hand. He reached down to press Dan’s hand against his cock through his jeans … and noticed that Dan’s fingers were shaking. Perhaps the boy wasn’t as confident as he seemed? Maybe they should put this all off. Dan had suggested meeting up later, which would give him time to decide if he really wanted this.

Phil spun their bodies around so that Dan was against the wall, with Phil the one leaning forward to press them together. He ground against Dan once, then once again, and Dan’s body arched against him with obvious pleasure. “There’ll be fireworks if you want them. I promise. But not here,” Phil said firmly. Then he frowned. “I mean, there will be fireworks here. There are fireworks here every night during the summer. But not these kinds of fireworks.” And he ground his hips against Dan’s again, and Dan was the one gasping now. Phil wrapped a hand around each of Dan’s wrists, then pinned them against the wall on either side of his head. He thrust against Dan again and they both groaned. “Because for these kinds of fireworks, I’d rather have you naked.” He waited to see how Dan would react.

Dan opened his eyes to look at Phil, and the pupils of his brown eyes were hugely dilated, though Phil wasn’t sure if it was in response to him or to the growing darkness. Dan’s body leaned limp against the wall, as if he’d collapsed, as if he’d completely submitted to Phil. He’d started out as the aggressor, but now he just gazed at Phil in willing, helpless abandon. Phil leaned in to kiss him again, licking his tongue into Dan’s mouth until the beautiful boy was groaning again, his body tight as a bow, pressing as close to Phil as he could get. Both his hands grasped at Phil’s back as if he were absolutely desperate. “Please?” he begged, pressing himself as tightly against Phil as possible.

“Oh, fuck it,” Phil ground out, and he let go of Dan’s wrists so he could reach down to unzip Dan’s jeans, slipping his hand inside to feel him hot and hard through his underwear with its rather obvious damp spot. Dan had been leaking pre-come while they were making out. The evidence only made Phil harder. “I can get you naked next time.”

Dan’s hand reached between them, fumbling to get Phil’s jeans open with eager hands.

“I’ve never done this before,” Phil laughed as they rubbed at each other there in the hidden corner where anyone could happen upon them.

“With a guy, or outside, or at work?” Dan asked, breathing heavily. He squeezed Phil’s cock briefly through the denim and Phil closed his eyes with pleasure.

“Oh, I’ve definitely done it with a guy,” Phil chuckled, “but never outside, and definitely not at work. But somebody tempted me too much for me to resist.” He leaned in to press their mouths together again and felt the eagerness in Dan’s returning kiss. He slipped his hand into Dan’s underwear and Dan cried out at the first touch of skin on skin. Phil quickly placed his other hand over Dan’s mouth, whispering, “Shhh. We don’t want anyone hearing us and coming back here to see what’s going on.” Dan nodded, and Phil took his hand away from the boy’s mouth. As he pulled his hand away, Dan licked his palm with a saucy grin.

He grasped Dan’s cock and pushed his underwear out of the way with his other hand. Meanwhile, Dan was still struggling to get Phil’s jeans open. Suddenly, Phil wondered if Dan had ever done this before. “How about you?” he asked, then stroked Dan’s cock lightly, not wanting this to be over too quickly. “Have you done this before?”

“Of course,” Dan replied, finally getting Phil’s jeans open and slipping a hand in to rub him through his underwear. Phil’s hips bucked toward the touch, but he’d heard the obvious nervous lie in Dan’s words, and this all of a sudden got even hotter. Not only was he exchanging hand jobs with a stranger at work, but it was the boy’s first time with another guy.

“I don’t believe you,” Phil whispered against Dan’s lips. “I think I’m the first guy you’ve been with, even though you’re…” his words cut off in a moan as Dan’s hand slipped into his underwear and grasped him in a tight grip. “Even though you’re doing fantastic.” Phil bit his own lip in pleasure, then leaned forward to nibble at Dan’s arching neck, giving it a flick of his tongue in apology and wondering if he would leave a mark. He liked the idea of Dan returning to his family with Phil’s mark on him, even if it might not be the best idea. He decided to try to be more careful.

Dan was panting now, thrusting into Phil’s hand as he squeezed and stroked Phil’s cock with an obviously inexpert touch, unaccustomed to this angle. “Okay,” Dan admitted on a moan. “Yeah, I haven’t done this with a guy before.” He leaned forward for another passionate kiss before adding, “But you just … the way you looked at me … and then in those ripped jeans … like I said … shivers.” And Phil felt Dan’s body shiver again, just at the memory. But a moment later he realized it had been a different kind of shudder as Dan’s cock pulsed and he began to come. Ironically, the first boom of fireworks above them happened at nearly the same time, and Phil saw Dan’s ecstatic face illuminated by blue lights falling above them.

“Faster,” Phil urged as Dan’s hand slowed during his own release. Obligingly, Dan sped up his strokes and soon Phil too was coming, his orgasm spurred by the knowledge that they could be caught at any moment, combined with awareness that Dan had never done this before and Phil was his first.

As their breathing slowed, fireworks continued to explode above them, occasionally illuminating their faces with a variety of different colors as they stared at each other. Phil hadn’t hoped for anything more than maybe a glimpse of the dimpled heckler, and he now guessed that Dan had probably hoped for nothing more than perhaps a quick make-out session. They both gazed at each other in wonder, chests still heaving.

“I saw fireworks. How about you?” Dan laughed breathlessly, his smart mouth finally making a reappearance. He was grinning, and his dimples were shadows in the light of the sparkles falling high above their heads.

“Definitely fireworks,” Phil replied and kissed that smart mouth. “And shivers.”

“And shivers,” Dan agreed on a quiet breath.

They lingered, kissing more softly now, their bodies leaning together as if they were holding each other up. Phil noticed Dan holding his hand away from his body and laughed. “My shirt is white. Nobody will notice before I get it home and wash it.” Dan didn’t seem to understand what Phil meant until Phil grabbed his hand and wiped the come off both of their hands onto his NASA t-shirt.

Dan laughed softly. “God, I hope we didn’t get my jeans. What’ll my parents think?” Phil guessed that he was probably blushing, though the hues of the fireworks hid any natural color of Dan’s skin.

“Probably nothing even nearly as good as the truth,” Phil joked.

He stroked his hand down Dan’s body again, making the boy twitch, but Phil merely slipped his hand into Dan’s jeans pocket to pry out the boy’s phone and type in his number. “Call me. Then we’ll see about more of those fireworks.” He grinned at Dan. “Like I said … they’re every night during the summer.” He kissed Dan softly again as he slid the phone back into Dan’s pocket.

Dan gazed at him with eyes deep and filled with stars. “What name should I look for in my phone?”

Phil frowned, confused. “What?”

“Did you just put your name as Prince Charming, or do your friends call you something a little less pretentious?”

Phil laughed and said, “Oh my god. I can’t believe I never told you my name. It’s Phil. My name is Phil.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Phil,” Dan said formally, and then broke into giggles.

Phil pulled away and giggled along with him, seeing his own giddy happiness reflected in Dan’s face as the firework show’s grand finale exploded in multiple colors at once above them. “I have to … um…” Dan stammered shyly. “I have to go meet my family at the front gate.”

“I know,” Phil replied, then kissed him one more time, just a brush of their lips.

“But I’ll call you,” Dan hurried to add. “Phil.” And he smiled again.

“I know,” Phil repeated with a grin, and then gave him one last kiss. Dan turned to walk away, but looked back once before he disappeared into the crowd. Phil smiled and raised a hand, then chuckled to himself when he realized it was the one that was still slightly coated in drying bodily fluids.

When he was sure Dan was gone, Phil turned to walk back toward the employee lot where he’d parked his car. He walked loose-limbed, thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his ripped jeans … and for the first time today, Disneyland really did feel like the happiest place on earth.

Author’s End Note: I’m just going to ignore the logistical difficulties of mutual simultaneous hand jobs when one participant is right handed and the other is left handed. Pretend I never even pointed out the potential awkwardness.

[nebulous-frog]

The Prince and His Helper

Summary: Dan and Phil work together at Disney World. Dan is Prince Eric's handler, and, well, let's just say you never see Phil and Prince Eric in the same place at the same time. Dan really likes Phil. He's been known to get a little jealous at the most idiotic of times, but his heart's in the right place.

Part Two is now up!

Word count: 2260 (this chapter- 17,212 overall)

Rating: G

Warnings: Some swearing

Genre: Fluff, Getting Together

Author’s Note: This is part one of probably three, so stay tuned for the rest soon! 

Written for Day 5 of @phanfichallenge​‘s week of fics!

Big thank you to @imnotinclinedtomaturity​ for betaing!

Link to AO3 Fics Masterlist

Dan sat in front of the makeup mirror in the character dressing room, scrolling mindlessly through his phone, too tired to process what he was reading, and occasionally sipping from one of the two coffees on the counter to keep himself from falling out of his chair in a dead sleep.

It was too damn early in the morning- the sun hadn’t even come out yet- but at least caffeine would get him going. Mostly.

Other handlers and characters were scattered throughout the room, putting on or helping to put on costumes. They were too busy to chat with Dan, not that he wanted company anyway. He was content to sit alone in the corner and wait for Phil to arrive.

Phil was an actor who was “friends with” Prince Eric, as the Disney cast members were required to call it (they had to preserve the magic; no child would want to come to Disney if they knew there was a human living inside Mickey Mouse), and Dan was completely enamored with him.

This was their fourth month working together as a handler-actor pair, and they had long since become friends. During breaks, they would chatter away about their many common interests until Dan remembered Phil had to save his voice for talking to the kids, and then Dan would gladly carry the whole conversation.

Their interactions gradually got flirtier and flirtier, and Dan often went home excited for work with Phil the next day.

This morning, however, Dan had gotten to work much earlier than he had anticipated and now he was bored, tired, and a little anxious. Phil would be there soon, of course, but Dan’s brain liked to mess with him.

What if today is the day the ever-dependable Phil Lester is finally late? He really needs to be here, though. I have to talk to him. Maybe he somehow knows and is trying to make me extra nervous. That’s legit, right?

But Dan’s worry was pointless, as, true to form, Phil arrived right on time- 6:30am on the dot.

 “Hey, Dan,” Phil said as he walked into the room.

Dan looked up from his phone and smiled. Phil looked as cheery as ever, which always surprised Dan. Who could be that happy so early in the morning? Luckily, his attitude was contagious, so Dan couldn’t help but feel his nerves melt away and turn into a tired excitement for a new day right along with Phil.

“Hey, Prince. Ready for another day of bringing joy to small children?”

“Of course!” Phil chuckled. “I see you have my costume all ready for me already.” He quirked a questioning eyebrow at Dan. “You always make me get it myself. What’s up with today?”

Prince Eric’s blue slacks, yellow sash, royal jacket, and shiny black boots sat out on the chair next to Dan’s. Phil walked over and toed his own tennis shoes off.

“What, can’t I just be a helpful handler for once?” Dan asked incredulously. When Phil raised his eyebrows skeptically, Dan continued, “Fine, fine, I got here early and was bored while waiting for you to show up.”

Dan stood up, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his blue shorts, then walked over to Phil.

“Need any help?” he asked, watching as Phil took everything out of his pockets.

“Not just yet, but you know I always need someone to do the sash and zipper for me.”

Phil slipped his pants off and pulled up the costume pants, holding out the sash for Dan to help.

Dan took one end of the sash, then wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist to grab the other end of it and tie it. He was so tired that his hands fumbled the fabric a few times, but he hoped Phil didn’t think too much of it.

Don’t think about how you’re basically hugging him right now, or how you can feel how toned his stomach is when you brush against it, or how close your face is to his, or how you can literally feel his breath on your face, Dan thought. He pointedly kept his eyes down, focusing intently on tying the sash and keeping his expression neutral.

Once Dan had stepped back, Phil took off his t-shirt and slipped the white decorative jacket over his shoulders and let Dan zip up the front of the jacket and button the flap to hide the zipper.

“Do I look princely yet?” Phil giggled, carefully sitting down to put on his boots.

“Of course, my liege,” Dan joked with a mock bow. He leaned his butt against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to look at Phil.

“So, someone’s early today. You’re literally always late,” Phil wondered after a beat of silence. “What gives?”

Dan blushed and spluttered. “What? I am not always late!” he exclaimed, stalling for time as he thought of a good excuse.

Phil shot him a look that clearly said, Yeah, right, and Donald Trump is marrying the Queen of England.

“Okay, Mr. Perfectly Punctual, why were you especially early today?” There was a glint in Phil’s eye and a cheekiness to his smile that showed Dan just how pleased Phil was that he had taken the bait.

Dan loved that cheeky smile.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to just get up and get here early,” Dan explained, trying to appear nonchalant.

Phil glanced up from his now-finished task, concern clear on his face. Dan must not have done a very good job of playing it cool.

“Couldn’t sleep? Is everything okay?” Phil’s brow was furrowed and he had a slight frown tugging on his lips.

Dan refused to acknowledge the voice in the back of his head calling it adorable.

“Yeah, I think I just had too much caffeine or something. You know me.” He brushed it off with a wave of his hand and an awkward laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

It wasn’t a lie, really, it just wasn’t the full truth. Dan had had a lot of caffeine yesterday, and something made him unable to sleep. It just... wasn’t the caffeine. Caffeine never affected Dan so much he couldn’t sleep at night.

No, what had kept Dan lying awake most of the night was his decision to ask Phil out on a date after work today.

Months of pining and flirting had built up, and Dan finally decided to throw caution to the wind and ask Phil to dinner, or coffee, or a movie, or literally anything, so long as they were together and it was a date.

Unfortunately, Dan’s brain had the rather awful tendency to overanalyze anything and everything he could possibly come into contact with, so his night had been full of what ifs and worst-case scenarios. They ranged from What if Phil already has a boyfriend all the way to Phil’s straight and homophobic and if I ask him out he’ll throw up on my face at the very idea of dating another man.

He knew it was ridiculous, he knew nothing horrible would happen, and he was 86% sure Phil would accept the invitation of a date. He even knew for a fact that Phil was very much not straight, since they’d talked about how hot multiple male actors were. But of course Dan’s brain would insist this was a terrible idea and he’d surely get rejected.

So when 5am rolled around, Dan decided he’d had enough and instead distracted his thoughts by getting ready for work and leaving a whole fifteen minutes earlier than necessary.

Obviously, he couldn’t tell Phil any of this without seeming like a complete idiot, so Dan just hoped his vague half-truth would be enough to get Phil to let it go.

After one more suspicious side-eye, Phil turned to the mirror and began to apply the required Prince Eric makeup to his face.

“Just make sure you take care of yourself, yeah, Dan?” Their eyes met in the mirror and Phil flashed Dan a small smile. “Wouldn’t want you passing out in the middle of a meet-and-greet.”

Dan let out a quiet sigh of relief and nodded. “Of course. Extra water for me, today.”

He stood up straight and turned around to watch Phil in the mirror.

Mirror Phil rubbed sunscreen-infused foundation on his cheekbones, and Dan’s mind wandered.

I wish I could be the one touching his cheeks like that. I bet his skin is soft and warm. Dan sighed internally.

I wonder what it feels like when he’s blushing. And what it looks like up close. How does he even stay this pale? He works outside for half the day, but he still looks like a genderbent Snow White. His lips are too pale for Snow White, though. Not that that matters- he doesn’t have to be Snow White. He’s absolutely gorgeous just the way he is, anyway. And his eyes, god, they’re so pretty. So blue, but also not, and they’re attentive, and-

It took him at least ten seconds to realize that Phil was staring back at Dan. And Dan was staring at Phil like some kind of lovestruck princess.

“Are you really that tired, or do you see something you like?” Phil said with a smirk.

Dan felt his cheeks heating up again. He couldn’t come up with a good comeback quick enough, so he just settled for a mumbled, “Oh, shut up,” and flicked his gaze down to the counter again.

His coffee was still sitting there, and Dan eagerly reached out to take another sip from it, half for the distraction and half for the necessary caffeine. Leaning against the counter again, he slid the other Starbucks cup over to Phil.

“This one’s for you, by the way,” Dan said around the lip of his own travel cup. “An extra sugary Caramel Macchiato just for you.”

(What he had wanted to say was “It’s just as sweet as you”, but that’d have consequences he wasn’t prepared to deal with just yet.)

Phil gave an adorable little “yay!” of delight and took a sip.

“Mmmm, it’s perfect. Thanks, Dan,” Phil said with a smile. He set the coffee back down and continued applying his light makeup.

“Of course.”

They remained in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Phil finished getting ready. Dan desperately hoped the caffeine would finally wake him up enough to be decent at his job today, because he was likely to fall asleep standing up if it didn’t.

While he waited for Phil, Dan took a moment to make sure his uniform looked decent. Granted, it was hard to make blue culottes (the dumbest shorts in existence), a Mickey and Friends polo (who the hell thought blue and green stripes were a good idea?), a lanyard (heavy with stupid pins), and a black belt (dorky and dad-like) look good.

All together, it was kind of hideous.

Dan tried his best to spice the gross outfit up a little. He rolled the sleeves slightly, exposing a bit more bicep, and french-tucked the shirt (for Tan France), hopefully making the overall outfit less… garish, to put it nicely. If nothing else, he hopefully looked less like a sad sack of potatoes now.

Finally, Phil sat back in his chair and let out a sigh, then took a sip from his coffee.

Dan glanced away from his own reflection to find Phil looking unfairly pretty. Phil was always pretty, obviously, but the makeup smoothed everything out so well that he looked- well, like a prince.

Their eyes met, and Dan let out a small cough and trained his eyes back onto the ground.

“All set, then?” He took a drink of his coffee and chanced another glance up at Phil.

“Your prince is ready to go,” Phil declared triumphantly, throwing both hands in the air.

Dan snorted. “Alright, my liege, let’s get moving. We have to go get our assignment for the day and I’d rather not have to stand in line behind all the other characters again.”

He stood up straight and swallowed the final dredges of his coffee. When he turned to Phil, he was met with Phil’s hand outstretched, waiting for Dan to help his lazy arse up. Dan rolled his eyes, but took Phil’s hand and helped him stand.

How are his hands always so soft? He’s clearly magic. Probably has little animals that moisturize his hands for him.

“Thank you, my dear servant,” Phil said in a snooty tone, nose in the air.

“Oh, you are most welcome, my liege,” Dan replied sarcastically, bowing low with his right arm pointing towards the door to the dressing room.

As they walked out the door, Dan noticed a physical change in Phil’s demeanor; Phil was now in Prince Eric Mode, getting himself warmed up to be in character for a day of entertaining children.

It was always fascinating to watch Phil slip into character. He started by changing his posture: broad shoulders raised, back straightened, chin up just enough to appear confident without seeming cocky. Then, his facial expression would change. Some of the excitement would dim from his eyes, turning into a more relaxed openness. His smile would soften, too, making him seem less like a giddy puppy and more like a responsible-yet-kind adult.

By the time they made it to the door of the main office, Dan wasn’t walking next to Phil anymore, he was walking next to Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid.

And so the workday properly began.

Part Two

[imagine-loki]

A Day In The Life

TITLE: A Day In The Life CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1: Caller ID AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine finding Loki’s phone and seeing that your name in his contacts is “smol mortal”. RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: This will be a series based on different prompts, with maybe one chapter per prompt unless my mind decides otherwise. Updated whenever. XD

___________________

    “Isabel; I require a favour,” Loki called without bothering with a greeting as he walked into the lounge to find precisely the Avenger he was looking for.

    The woman in question - a tan-skinned, voluptuous female with long wavy black hair currently tied into a messy bun high on her head, and almond-shaped eyes of a blue so light they were practically white as a result of her icy powers - was sitting curled up on one of the couches wearing an oversized black t-shirt that read ‘Don’t Blink’ in large white letters over cut-off jean shorts, holding a tablet in her hand and occasionally poking at it with her other hand.

    “Depends on how illegal it is and whether or not I get to keep my clothes on,” Isabel replied distractedly without looking up from the screen.

    Loki rolled his eyes. “It was one time, woman,” He began then smirked, “Let it go.”

    Isabel lifted her hand from the tablet to flip him the bird, earning a laugh. She was never going to forgive Clint (or Disney) for that one. “What do you want, Loki?”

    “I want many things, dear,” Loki replied amusedly, “I need you to call my phone.”

    “Why?” Isabel drawled, still not looking up.

    “I can’t find it,” Loki replied. Isabel looked up at him with a raised eyebrow to find a slightly embarrassed expression. “I… may have been a little drunk last night,” He admitted somewhat sheepishly.

    Isabel let out an amused snort. “More likely, it’s a wonder how you found your bed,” She teased.

    “You assume it was my bed I found,” Loki retorted, the embarrassment vanishing in favour of a smirk.

    “Con tan buena madre…” Isabel snorted, earning a wide grin she shook her head at. “And what do I get in return?”

    “My undying gratitude,” Loki replied importantly, waiting for her reaction.

    He didn’t have to wait long. “Ha! Fuck, no,” Isabel retorted, “I want something useful, pana.”

    “What’s more useful than the gratitude of a god?” Loki scoffed with mock indignation.

    “Tampons?” Isabel suggested.

    Loki opened his mouth to reply then paused for a moment. “I see your point,” He conceded, “Very well; what do you want in return?”

    Isabel thought for a moment then shrugged. “Favour for a favour? The usual rules?”

    “Done,” Loki replied with a nod.

    “Well, alright then,” Isabel said then set her tablet aside and unfolded herself from the couch.

    She picked her phone up from the coffee table in front of her and looked through her contacts, letting out a quiet snort at the picture of a very unamused Loki covered in bright orange paint that she’d set for his ID before dialling. Once it connected, she nodded to him then they waited for a moment. Hearing nothing in the room (not that either thought they would, but you never know), they went throughout the rest of the rooms on that floor. When that proved fruitless, they split up to search the tower; Loki went one floor down and Isabel to the one above, intending to work their way through the rest as they finished.

  ******

      Half an hour later, they had turned the search into a sort of competition to see who could find the phone first. Isabel wasn’t quite sure how that happened, but it was hardly surprising that it did; whenever she and Loki were left to their own devices for extended periods of time, they tended to end up with either a competition or a dare, followed by their one phone call to either Steve or Thor (or the pizza place that one time). At this point, they knew the guys at the precinct by name and wished their kids happy birthdays.

    Isabel poked her head into one of the labs and listened, getting a few odd looks from the people working inside, then moved on to the next room and so on. Finally, she faintly heard the chorus of The Romanovs’ ‘King’ further down the hall and she laughed quietly to herself. Of course that was her ringtone. Say what you would about the man; Loki certainly was one to pay attention to detail. Using her powers to create trails of ice on the floor, mainly to piss Tony off, Isabel slid the rest of the way until she reached the door the music was coming from.

    Isabel spared a thought to wonder why the hell Loki left his phone in one of the storage rooms then walked inside. The call went to voicemail before she could see where the phone was so she dialled again, finding it behind a shelf, which only raised more questions. She was about to hang up and go look for Loki, when she noticed the caller ID and stopped, looking again to see if she was mistaken.

   But, no; there it was in bold letters, above the picture of her in a burgundy cocktail dress, holding an open bottle of champagne and blowing a kiss to the camera that he’d taken on New Year’s Eve:

Smol Mortal

    Isabel stared at the screen until the call went to voicemail, wondering how she was going to retaliate. She knew she was short, barely reaching five-foot-two, something Loki immensely enjoyed using against her despite the danger it posed to his well-being. But she drew the line at ‘cute’. She was not cute, dammit! With that in mind, she left a message and went off to find Loki. And possibly murder him; she hadn’t decided yet.

  ******

      Loki had just stepped out of the elevator where the lounge was, figuring Isabel had found his phone as it had to be in one of the floors she took, when he was pelted with dozens of snowballs, one of which felt much more solid than the others. Isabel, of course, had fled the moment she’d launched her attack, not that that would stop him from getting her back.

    He always did enjoy a good hunt, after all.

   He looked down and noticed something that looked suspiciously rectangular under the snow; bending over, he picked up his phone, unwrapping it from the plastic Isabel had put it in so as to not ruin it. Loki unlocked the phone to find the ridiculous number of missed calls that their search resulted in as well as one voicemail. He dialled, figuring the message was Isabel’s explanation for the snowballs.

    “I knew giving you unsupervised access to the internet was a bad idea,” Isabel’s voice said, not sounding particularly amused, “You are such an asshole.”

    Loki chuckled to himself and, drying himself from the melting snow with a careless wave of his hand, walked down the hall to look for Isabel. He found her in the kitchen raiding the fridge for a snack. Sparing a moment to… admire the view; he walked up behind her as she straightened back up, a container of what remained of the cookies she had made several days prior in her hands, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, earning a surprised gasp as she froze. Literally.

    “Cabrón; get off me!” Isabel cried as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp. ‘Tried’ being the operative word.

    “You’re the one who wanted me to stop calling you ‘Íss’,” Loki said matter-of-factly, not letting go even as the chill of her skin started turning his arms blue.

    Isabel paused, momentarily wondering what that had to do with anything until she remembered her message. “So you go with that?” She asked incredulously.

    “It seemed fitting,” Loki replied with a shrug.

    “Asshole,” Isabel retorted, smiling despite herself.

_________________

AN:

“Con tan buena madre…” = from the saying “Con tan buena madre, y tan hijo de puta que eres”, which means ‘With such a good mother, and you’re such a son of a bitch’ “pana” = 'pal’ “Cabrón” = depending on the context, it’s either an insult or something akin to 'dude’ “Íss” = Old Norse for 'ice’

[badwolf1988-blog]

A Stranger No More

Summary: In the season one episode, 'The Stranger', David doesn't reject Regina, he stays. The consequence of their night together is that David regains his memories. Why doesn't he tell anyone? Why does he keep returning to the Evil Queen's bed?

Rated: PG-13

Disclaimer: Property of Disney folks. I just borrow their characters to play with from time to time. Opening lines taken from the show.

Author’s Note : This story was requested by @Maria_Lynch on A03

A BIG thank you to my beta reader, Meghan!

Status: COMPLETE

“You were on the side of the road, unconscious. So cold you felt like ice. The doctor said if I'd found you ten minutes later it would have been too late. It's amazing, isn't it? If I hadn't forgotten my phone, I wouldn't have been on the road at that time.” The lie came so easily from Regina's lips. It was almost like she had told it so many times that she actually believed it.

“Yeah, it's... almost... almost like the universe wanted you to find me.” David's voice was confused and more than a little conflicted.

Regina, sensing that she had caught the unknowing Prince Charming in a weak moment, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on David's lips. It felt nice... a little too nice if she was honest. She was surprised that instead of pulling away, David deepened the kiss, gripping her hips tightly, and pushing her back against the wall as he devoured her mouth.

The only person that Regina had been with in years was Graham and while he was a great way to blow off steam and scratch an itch, the heartless Huntsman didn't have a lick of passion in him. David was capable of rendering her speechless with a simple kiss. No wonder Snow White was so enthralled by him.

“Bedroom,” David broke the kiss long enough to demand against her lips as his hands found their way under her blouse to cup her breasts through the fabric of her bra.

Regina moaned. “Upstairs, third door on the left,” she directed him. Cupping her ass, he lifted her in his arms, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, as he headed for the stairs.

When David awoke the next morning, he was confused. Where the hell was he? Once his senses were fully back online, he registered that he wasn't alone in bed. There was a warm, feminine body curled up on his bare chest, her hair tickling his neck and her rose and apple scent invading his nostrils.

It hit him. He had slept with Regina. He had made love to the Evil Queen and gotten his memories back halfway through their carnal act... and he hadn't put a stop to it. No, he had been too caught up in lust for the vixen withering beneath him as he slowly stroked in and out of her. Regina may have been evil but that had never stopped her from being beautiful. Even he hadn't been immune to her beauty back in their land. And the passionate way that she sought evil and reigned down terror was the same way that she made love. He had never been with a woman like her.

David knew that he should be fleeing the bed and going out in search of a way to break her curse. He should be running into Snow White's arms and properly meeting his daughter for the first time. He knew what he should be doing. So, why then did he give into Regina's half-awake request to go another round? Why did he kiss her goodbye before he left and make plans to get coffee at Granny's after work?

If David thought his presence in Regina's life and her bed would cool her need for revenge and self-destruction he was sadly mistaken. After a few weeks, her stunts only seemed to get worse. He was starting to suspect it was because she was facing the same problem as him.

David had started their fling unknowingly but his reasons for continuing it had changed... or maybe he had finally just stopped living in denial. At first, he kept it going because, in his mind, he was spying. Who got closer to the Evil Queen than the man who shared her bed? It wasn't like Snow remembered him and Emma was happily living next to that river in Egypt. She had pitched a tent and didn't appear to be coming back anytime soon. He realized his feelings had changed the first time he stepped in and stopped her from doing something stupid (tearing down Henry's playground) solely out of a deep seated need to protect the insane woman from emotional harm.

One thing he had learned about Regina was that she was a lot more fragile than people believed her to be. Nothing had ever come easily for her the way that it had Snow White, especially love. Only four people had ever really loved her in her life: her father, Daniel, Henry, and it was like getting zapped with Zeus' lightning bolt when he realized that he was the fourth person. He could see past her walls to the rather adorable woman with the nasty temper that she was underneath. The woman who would very happily die for Henry. The woman who would stiffen up every time he wrapped his arms around her as she battled some kind of internal war with herself before eventually relaxing and allowing herself to enjoy the unfamiliar affection. The woman's lust for revenge and power had been driven by one simple thing... love. She wanted to be loved and Snow had stolen what she thought was her only chance at it. She was wrong. David loved her and was there to stay, curse or no curse, their land or Maine. He would try and get to know Emma and he was doing his damnedest to make her and Regina get along for Henry's sake but he and Snow were done. If she ever regained her memories, he would do the right thing and break things off properly.

It was when he caught Regina planning to set Snow up for the murder of Katherine that David realized that his lover's feelings probably went beyond lust. ‘Mary Margaret’ had been stopping him more and more just to chat recently and... Regina was jealous.

As oddly arousing as he found the lengths she was willing to go to, to keep him, he knew he had to put a stop to her plans. He had to tell her the truth.

“You know, sweetheart,” he said as he dropped the order form for a human heart on the desk in front of her. “You can stop this. You've already won, you got your revenge.”

He saw the fear momentarily flicker in her eyes but she kept her tone even, “What are you talking about? I pulled some bureaucratic strings and ordered that heart for Dr. Whale. You can ask him.”

“Oh, I'm sure he'll tell me exactly what you want him to.” David crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled. “Even in this world, people fear you, Regina.”

This time, Regina couldn't hide the fear in her eyes as she slowly got to her feet and walked around the desk to stand in front of him. “What do you mean 'this world'?”

“You know what I mean, sweetheart.” He took a step closer and took her by surprise when he wrapped his arms around her waist. “The two of us, this whole town... we're not exactly from around here.”

“I...I...”

“Have you ever stopped to think…” he tightened his hold on her and continued like he hadn't heard her stuttering, “that maybe I'm your true revenge, Regina?” He reached up and cupped her cheek. “Snow took Daniel from you, now you've taken me from her.”

“Ha... have I?” She finally found her voice, a voice that was much more timid than normal.

“You have.” He nodded. “The man that's spent the past month making love to you was Prince David, not David Nolan. I got my memories back that first night but I couldn't stay away from you... and I'm done trying to. I'm yours.” He caught a tear that slid down her cheek with his thumb and wiped it away. “So, how about you let me kiss you before I take you home and show you just how much I belong to you, Your Majesty,” he smirked at her.

“I like that idea.” Regina gave him a small, honest smile.

No one who grew up in their land could have missed the surge of magic that swept through them when his lips met hers. David knew immediately what had happened and was grinning when he broke the kiss. “Regina, I think you just broke your own curse, sweetheart.”

She smiled. “I love you, David.”

He chuckled huskily. “I think that's pretty obvious. Just like it's obvious that I love you too.”

There was a world of trouble waiting for them outside but at least they both now knew that they would be facing it together.

FINIS

  ​​​​​​​MY WEBSITE

[mysteryshelf]

ANNIVERSARY WEEK BLOG TOUR - Atone for the Ivory Cloud

 FIRST ANNIVERSARY WEEK!

Atone for the Ivory Cloud

by Geoffrey Wells

March 1-31, 2017 Tour

DISCLAIMER: This content has been provided to THE PULP AND MYSTERY SHELF by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours. No compensation was received. This information required by the Federal Trade Commission.

Synopsis:

A brilliant composer and coder goes undercover to trap a cybercrime syndicate that has hijacked her website—to traffic blood ivory. She must survive impossible physical, virtual and cultural obstacles and choose between the opposing forces of privacy and responsibility.

Allison is stunned when the CIA leaves her no option but to go undercover to surreptitiously modify the code she wrote to protect her symphony. She is deployed from New York with a savvy street vendor to Tanzania, where he is from—and where the cybercrime trail goes dead. Their guarded love affair is sidelined when they are abducted by a trafficker who poaches elephants on a massive scale. To avoid betraying each other they abandon their CIA handlers and return to New York City. Allison must find a way to bring down the syndicate knowing that she might have to sacrifice her symphony, her loved ones and her privacy—for a greater good.

Book Details:

Genre: Thriller Published by: Ice Wine Productions, Inc. Publication Date: February 2017 Number of Pages: 309 ISBN: eBook: 978-0-9981666-0-5, Print: 978-0-9981666-1-2 Purchase Links: Amazon 🔗 | Goodreads 🔗

IVORY TRAFFICKING Trailer for the thriller, Atone for the Ivory Cloud:

Read an excerpt:

Voices. Unintelligible fragments. Words she didn’t recognize. Faint, distant—the sound of city traffic. A tone—plaintive, sung. The smell of cumin. And diesel. Incense. A flurried breath of diaphanous light across the white mosquito net. The awareness of being alive. The air, saturated. Four notes.

Allison stretched out her arm, her hand touching the cold steel pole that held the IV bag. A hissing clamp dug into her nostrils. In a hallway perhaps—nearby—a woman’s voice: elderly, clear, solidified into a black shape in the doorway, the same abaya shape that had stolen her away from the resort—that stole her from him. She shut her eyes and felt adrenaline surge through her. Regulate your breathing, she thought. Her limp arm was carefully lifted and placed inside the mosquito net. Try to ignore the gnawing anguish in your brain. They can’t know yet; they can’t know that you are conscious, that you are Allison Schwartz, that you have forgotten the name of that other person you are supposed to be.

Sleep. Later, the low sun having painted the walls of the room yellow and red, Allison heard the kalimba—her sipho, or was this Sipho himself, luring her from her unconscious mind? Again—four notes: three words and four consonants to go with them—the sum-mer wind. Impossible, yet it could only be him. She listened. Outside on the quiet street, again the four notes played, repeating, waltzing. She woke again. This time painfully, step by step, she detached from the IV and the oxygen tube clamped to her nose. She was able to sit up, to touch the cool ceramic tiled floor with her toes. With a pounding headache, she gingerly hobbled to the open window, taking deep breaths of the humid ocean breeze. How true, she thought, the line from their song about the wind being a fickle friend. Closer—those four notes again.

From her second-story window she peered down into the narrow street, now suffused with hues of blue and purple light, bare lightbulbs here and there spilling yellow across the cobbled road, turning the Muslim pedestrians into silhouetted abstractions that silently shuffled toward the minaret, thin and resolute at the intersection. There, lying on the windowsill, a mobile phone rang with the ringtone she heard. So, no Sipho on the street below, beckoning to her, like Romeo. Yet only he could have thought to create that ringtone, the significance of which only she and he would understand. When she swiped the glass on the phone, she saw her own wallpaper screen. The CALENDAR app date showed that two days had passed.

She had an unread text message, respond.

Behind her, a noise. She scrambled back into the bed, her heart churning as she reattached the oxygen, leaving the IV dangling. She set the phone to mute and tucked it into her panties. She resumed her former comatose state. A burka and abaya-clad woman approached, re-inserted the IV needle, and took Allison’s pulse. Think of nothing, Allison; of Central Park at dawn, when the sleeping snow is left behind and the storm has moved on. Be calm. The woman called out abruptly and left. Allison reached frantically for the phone.

Passcode? She remembered keying it in at Amsterdam airport, the sea of faces coming and going, paying her no attention. How naive she was. She keyed her mother’s phone number, remembering that the agent had told her to swap the first and last numbers.

The reply came back immediately: Pay 50% in bitcoin asap. Use BOX. Have Ts delivered to fabric stall at Kariakoo market – north side of Tandamuti Street. Pay remaining 50% after we weigh/inspect and after they supply 1989 certs. I will get u soon—only text if u have issues. DELETE THIS MESSAGE THEN TURN OFF YOUR PHONE

k, she texted, now thankful for the ingrained system she had been using for years to memorize sheet music: Walking through the score in rehearsal, organizing the sequence of events, elaboration—the assignment of meaning by association, and mapping the score to a familiar location—in this case, Central Park, for which she now pined. As she read the text ten times and applied these principles, she found hope in the message. First, only Sipho and she referred to the device as “the box”, and second, she confirmed that the box was close enough to be discovered by her phone, all of which led her to hope that Sipho had found her. The rest was instructions on how the deal needed to go down—and this, too, meant that her usefulness on this mission had an end point.

She deleted the text.

Author Bio:

Impressions on a South African farm, boarding school, a father who read from the classics to his children, and a storytelling mother, sparked Geoffrey Wells with a writer’s imagination. Though the piano and drum kits and Mozambique led to his first thriller, A Fado for the River, his career as Art Director in advertising led him to the American Film Institute, and an awe of digital technology propelled him to VP/CIO at Disney, ABC-TV stations and Fox. Wells wrote an award-winning animated film, has visited elephant reserves, and climbed to the tip of Kilimanjaro. He lives on Long Island where he swims the open water and runs a video and design company. He writes thrillers about imperfect characters who, always with a diverse band of allies, fight villains that devastate our natural and virtual ecosystems.

“Atone for the Ivory Cloud is a compelling, fast-paced thriller with an exotic international flavor. Geoffrey Wells takes the reader on an enthralling ride, skillfully entwining cybercrime, music, and the fate of African elephants in a breathtaking tale of danger and romance.” Pamela Burford, best-selling author of Undertaking Irene.

Catch Up with Geoffrey Wells on his Website 🔗, Twitter 🔗, & Facebook 🔗!

  Tour Participants:

Stop by these other great hosts for to learn more about Geoffrey Wells and his book Atone for the Ivory Cloud with inteviews, guest posts, & reviews!

  Giveaway:

This is a rafflecopter giveaway hosted by Partners in Crime Virtual Book Tours for Geoffrey Wells. There will be 5 winners of one (1) eBook copy of Atone for the Ivory Cloud by Geoffrey Wells. The giveaway begins on February 28th and runs through April 2nd, 2017.

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ANNIVERSARY WEEK BLOG TOUR – Atone for the Ivory Cloud was originally published on the Wordpress version of The Pulp and Mystery Shelf

[accio-sorting-blog]

Sorting: Disney Princess Edition

FORWARD: I don’t believe in house stereotypes. You don’t have to be a Gryffindor to be brave, or a Hufflepuff to be kind. What really matters is the why behind each characters actions, and that’s what I’ll be sorting based off of.For all my sorts, I will put the characters in both Hogwarts and Ilvermorny houses. Enjoy!

SNOW WHITE : Hufflepuff//Pukwudgie

Snow White didn’t get a lot of character development, so it’s a little difficult to get an accurate sorting for her. However, she does show that she is a hard-worker, patient, and kind, and that is why she’s a Hufflepuff. 

Snow’s also a Pukwudgie, because she values the power of healing. When she’s with the seven dwarves, she tries to take care of them and help them resolve their issues to the best of her ability. She cares about others well being, which makes her a strong fit for Pukwudgie. 

Aurora: Ravenclaw//Thunderbird

Aurora is a very dreamy and curious girl, as evidenced by her long walks in the woods. She wants to understand about the world around her, and feels trapped by living in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. She wants adventure and to understand, which makes her a great fit for wise old raven-claw.

That need to understand the world around her also makes Aurora a Thunderbird. (haha, she’s a Bird Bird) Aurora has a strong curiosity, and explores the world around her frequently. She would look for adventure everywhere, and try to learn about it while she was at it. 

Cinderella: Gryffindor//Pukwudgie

Cinderella,while a sweet, hardworking girl, shows courage and chivalry, traits that are developed further in her sequels. Cinderella will do what is right, and stand up for herself. “They can’t tell me to stop dreaming” shows her brand of quiet defiance, as she is going to stand by her dreams no matter what, and fight for them.

Cindy would be a Pukwudgie, like Snow. She’s very protective of her animal friends, as well as the Prince as seen in the next few films. She wants to make sure her loved ones are always safe and taken care of, which shows that she truly represents the heart of a wizard. 

Ariel: Slytherin//Thunderbird

Cue the outraged cry of “BUT ARIEL IS A GRYIFFINDOR!!!” Yes, Ariel can be pretty reckless and can be brave. But you know what she does that really makes me think she’s one of the shrewd and cunning? She actively seeks out her movies villain. She literally goes to someone that is regarded by everyone to be the epitome of evil because a) she wants to become human [aka any means to achieve their ends], and b) her dad pissed her off, and she views this as the best form of revenge. She uses her cunning and resourcefulness to get herself out of sticky situations plenty of times, and uses manipulation to get Eric to fall in love with her, and so that she can keep her legs and regain her voice. Ariel would fit right in at the house of snake. 

Ariel’s Ilvermorny house would definitely be Thunderbird. She is so curious about the human world, and collects thousands of artifacts from in, not because she’s trying to learn about it, but because she’s fascinated. She also makes reckless decisions in pursuit of her adventure, and longs to be rid of the normal and boring. 

Belle: Ravenclaw//Horned Serpent

Belle is extremely intelligent, curious, and defies societies expectations. She’s also accepting of the Beast, another trait of Ravenclaw. Belle is a beautiful character who is herself in all ways, and has a thirst for learning like no other. 

Belle’s Ilvermorny house would be Horned Serpent, the mind of the wizard. She’s noted for her brightness and desire to understand, and shows dedication to this passion. She would do well in Horned Serpent, as she would spend hours upon hours reading, and frequently engage in fervent intellectual conversations. 

Jasmine: Gryffindor//Wampus

Lemme express my love of Jasmine for a minute. She does not take ANYONE’S bullshit, and displays a lot of recklessness and desire for adventure. Jasmine also has courage out the ass, as you can see whenever she abandons her life in the palace to go out and see the world, and when she has an animal that could maul her as a pet. [side note: Aladdin is a complete Slytherin, and their relationship makes me happy]

Jasmine would also be a great match for Wampus. Her strength and willingness to fight for what she believes in indicates that she would fit in well with a crowd of kids who attacked problems head on, and with a fire. 

Anna: Hufflepuff//Thunderbird

I really struggled between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for her, but ultimately decided upon the latter. Why? Anna is loyal to the end. Even after years of being shut out by her sister, she persists in trying to establish a relationship with her. She defends her love for Hans even though people tell her she is crazy for doing so, because once she has formed a bond with someone she has to stand by that. Even after Elsa struck her in the heart, Anna sacrificed herself to save her sister, which speaks volumes about who she is, and what she values the most. 

Man, there are a lot of Thunderbirds! Anna fits in this house because she wants to know what the outside world is like. She’s been isolated for so long that  she’s begun talking to paintings, and seizes the first chance she can to interact with others and see what her kingdom is really like. She’s also eager to get to go in search of her sister, even if it’s a little cold, because adventure is out there. 

Elsa: Slytherin//Pukwudgie

Ironically, Elsa fits right into Slytherin because of her desire to get away from power. Elsa’s ambition isn’t one stereotypical of a Slytherin: all she really wants is to get to live a life free from pain. She believes that isolating herself from her sister is what will keep her safe, and that deep seeded loyalty shows her Slytherin side. 

Elsa, though not the best with emotions, is a healer. She keeps herself from her sister to protect her. She keeps herself locked in her castle to protect her kingdom. But the most important person she healed was herself. Elsa’s journey to self love and acceptance echoes that of what I believe many Pukwudgies may go through, as they discover that in order to take care of others, they first must take care of oneself. 

Rapunzel: Hufflepuff//Thunderbird

Rapunzel adds on to the long list of Hufflepuff’s on the list, but for good reason. She’s definitely a hardworking gal as seen in ‘When Will My Life Begin?’, and feels a strong sense of loyalty to those she cares about. (Y’all she was torn up when she left her tower because she felt so guilty) I almost placed her in Ravenclaw due to her artistic leanings and curiosity about the outside world, but her repeated line that she “never, EVER, breaks a promise”, shows her true yellow and black colors boldly, and makes it a clear pick where she’d end up to me. 

Rapunzel’s motivation throughout the movie is to go see the lanterns. She wants to understand why she is so drawn to them, but she also wants to get to see the world outside of her tower, and experience every bit of it. Her thirst for adventure is abundantly clear as she finds life in it. 

Pocahontas: Ravenclaw//Pukwudgie

Pocahontas is so so wise. She is constantly looking for adventure and questioning authority, something that is strongly indicative of Ravenclaw to me as she goes against the status quo. She is extremely rational, as I believe her decision to save John Smith didn’t derive only from her love or from chivalry, but from an understanding that killing him would mean war. She’s accepting of John and patient with him, as she teaches him of her culture and learns of his own. Pocahontas is very brave,but any house can be brave. What’s important is her main desires in life, and those are to learn as much as she possibly can. 

Pocahontas plays the role of mediator in the film, as she bridges the divide between the white men and her tribe. This is a very Pukwudgie like role to me, as she is bringing healing to two groups of people. She is loyal to her tribe, and will make sure that they are always taken care of. Her concern and dedication make her a strong Pukwudgie.  

Tiana: Hufflepuff//Wampus

Another Puff Princess! There’s a lot of them, I know. Tiana belongs here mostly because the girl knows how to put in WORK. She busts her butt to try to fulfill both her and her fathers dream, and remains loyal to the values he taught her all along. She also displays loyalty when she realizes that she is falling for Naveen, yet feels guilty because he is meant for her best friend. Even when she’s a frog, Tiana does not take her eye off of the prize, and does what she needs to while still staying true to herself to ensure that her dreams come true. 

I think Tiana would have been the rare witch that would have had every single house choose her. She shows that she could do well in Pukwudgie as she views food as therapeutic, and frequently uses it to bring her community together. She also shows a thirst for adventure while in the swamp with Naveen, and the ingenuity of a Horned Serpent whenever she concocts a new recipe. However, I believe that Tiana would have ended up going with the house of Wampus, has the head strong spirit and fire to always fight for her dream 

Mulan: Gryffindor//Wampus

Mulan has a sense of honor and extreme bravery that would make her a perfect fit for Gryffindor. She will do anything for her father and her family, and shows that she cares about honor when she consults her ancestors. Even after she was dismissed and could go home knowing her Father was safe, Mulan decided to fight the war because she was going to do what was right and be brave. Her strong sense of duty indicates that she has the roar of a Lion. 

Mulan would be a Wampus, not only because she is a warrior, but because she is defiant in the face of defeat. She proves herself to Shang after she is dismissed, and constantly pushes herself to be her best because she has to prove herself. She will always do the best she can, and make sure everyone knows it.

and finally... 

Merida: Slytherin

*shocked gasp* But...but isn’t the name of her movie Brave? Well, yes. Slytherins can be brave Every house can. What matter is what they’re being brave for, and how they’re going about it. Is it by signing up for a war to do the right thing, like Mulan? Is it by standing up for yourself and working hard like Tiana? Or is it to free yourself, like Merida? Merida is ambitious, and will do anything to get what she wants, even if it means hurting her own family (which is a bad part of Slytherin). She’s especially cunning, as seen when she finds a loophole in the marriage law. Merida is extremely independent, and wants her fate to be in her own hands. She does not follow blindly. Merida will take care of herself and get what she wants, no matter what. 

Merida would be a Thunderclaw due to the desire to take her life into her own hands. She wants to be free to adventure, and believes in magic, something that screams Thunderclaw. She doesn’t want the boring obligations of a Princess, but a life filled with danger and escapades. In short, Merida wants to fly free from obligation, and would find the power to do so in Thunderbird