#by the end of this i actually moved on to listen to rise by katy perry

[luna-writes-stuff]

Motion Sickness, Xu Shangqi

Yes, I wrote this out self projection. I myself have a very weak stomach and can therefor very easily and quickly catch motion sickness.

For those interested about what motion sickness is and what it means for me: Quick story of it, my stomach cannot stand a lot of motion, especially when my brain is unaware of the direction my body is moving in. I get nauseous and light headed and just feel the bile rising up in my throat. So when I go on long car rides for vacation and I cannot see the navigation, I could easily throw up in the car in a matter of seconds. When I sit on the wrong side of the car, I get sick. When I look anywhere else but outside in the car, I get sick. When the car is taking turns instead of driving straight ahead, I get sick. It’s really annoying and it’s still something I struggle with a lot. I get it on amusement rides, rollercoasters, boats; even when I just move around to quickly or too much. So when I was watching that scene in Shang-Chi where they drive to Ta Lo, all I could think about was how terrible I would’ve been in that situation. And it inspired me to write this (stupid as it may sound.) Yes, I am aware there is medication for this, but it happens a lot of the times and would I keep using and buying it, I would spend way more money than I actually need to. I only use it for long car rides and boat trips.

Fanfic, female! reader

Fluff, bit of angst

Tw: SPOILERS, motion sickness, description of nausea, lightheadedness, description of vomiting, rising temperature, half consciousness, self projected, description of losing consciousness (but not really), Shang-Chi being worried, established relationship, use of Y/N. Also, I could not find the script anywhere, so half of the dialogue is probably wrong.

Summary: When escaping Wenwu’s home, you join the ride to Ta Lo, even as you are aware that you get severe motion sickness in cars and most definitely will end up throwing up later. Shang-Chi knows this and tries to help, but you can’t talk nausea out of someone. Upon arriving in Ta Lo, you’re barely conscious and Shang-Chi gets concerned.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shang-Chi asked, as you sat outside the car you just escaped in.

The ride from Wenwu’s home had been difficult to say the least. You got very nauseous in car rides, and you knew that, yet you wanted to be there for Shang-Chi when he would travel to his mother’s village. It was already clear it was not going to be an easy journey, but you insisted on joining the ride.

At the moment, you were catching some fresh air after the eventful car ride earlier. You forced your nausea down, smiling up at Shang-Chi.

“Oh yeah. I’ll be fine.” You assured, standing up and taking a deep breath in.

“You know you don’t have to come along.” He tried again, but you ignored his offer.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You insisted, walking back towards the car. Shang-Chi let out a sigh of defeat before opening the door to the passenger seat.

“Actually, Trevor was going to sit there. Seeing as he kind of holds the information and stuff.” Katy said, gesturing towards the man behind you two.

“He can do that from the back.” Shang-Chi said, but you shoo’d him, opening the door behind the passenger seat.

“I can sit here too.” You announced, sitting down before your boyfriend could say anything about it.

“Y/N-“ “Don’t Y/N me.” You interrupted. “If I get sick, it’s my own damn fault.”

He groaned before stepping in on the other side, his sister seated between the two of you.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, looking towards you with a worried glance.

“She gets sick in car rides.” Shang-Chi announced, putting on his seatbelt.

“Don’t worry.” You reassured her, “If I’m going to throw up, I’m going to aim for Shang-Chi. You’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to throw up?” She questioned, frowning at the statement.

“I’ll try not to, if it’s any consolation to you.” You offered, throwing off your jacket before bundling it up and letting it rest on your lap, holding it against your stomach lightly.

“I hope you’re strapped in. Morris tells us we need to leave now.” Trevor announced, simultaneously making Katy push the gas.

As you’re driving, Katy keeps a steady pace, causing a feeling of relief to wash through you. If this was going to be the pace you’d keep during the ride, nothing could really go wrong.

In front of the car, the trees suddenly started to separate, creating a road for Katy to drive on. You gasped at the sight, having never seen anything like it before.

“This is so cool.” Katy quietly awed. You hummed in agreement, staring at the greens out of the window.

“Morris says you might want to speed up.” Trevor announced, looking at the rearview mirror. Katy followed his look, before letting a curse word slip and speeding up. All three of you in the back quickly looked behind, eyes widening at the sight of the trees closing back.

You turned around the second you saw what was happening, not ready to move forward while looking back.

“Take a left.” Trevor instructed.

“When?” Katy wondered, sparing the man a single glance.

“Now!” He ushered.

Katy took a sharp turn at his words, causing you to immediately grab hold of the handle on the door. Xialing and Shang-Chi both fell towards your side, not having prepared for the turn. You let out a little chuckle at the sight of them, but stopped as the familiar feeling of nausea hit you again.

“Right!” Trevor instructed. Yet again, Katy listened to him, taking a sharp right turn as the woods split into two again.

You had yet to let go of the handle, but you figured it might the closest thing you’d get to grounding at the moment. You felt Shang-Chi’s eyes drill holes into your head, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you kept you eyes on the window outside, knowing shooting your glance anywhere else might lead to some unfortunate consequences.

“Right again!” And at those words, the car stumbled around. Your stomach started feeling heavy as your head grew lighter, but you refused to acknowledge it, silently wishing for it to be over soon. You knew what would happen. You brought this upon yourself and you had no one to blame but yourself. You were in this now and you would not complain about it.

“Left!”

The next turn came completely unexpected to you, causing you to lose grip of the handle and the jacket on your lap, your hands trying to hold onto the seat in front of you.

As the car was on a straight line again, Shang-Chi quickly leaned over, grabbing your jacket and handing it to you, before opening your window slightly, allowing fresh air to fill the car. He shot you a silent look before returning to his seat.

“Drive faster!” Trevor urged, looking in the rearview mirror again. The forest seemed to close in behind you in an even faster rate now.

Katy just followed his lead, pushing the gas pedal down all the way. The car was hurled forward as your stomach began to flip. You leant your head against the window, your jacket pressed tightly against your stomach.

“Right!” Trevor yelled, the wind that blew into the car now becoming louder than his voice.

As Katy followed his directions, your clothes began to uncomfortably cling to your body, your hair slowly sticking to your forehead. You felt the bile rising up your throat, but you swallowed it back down, knowing there was no way of stopping now.

As Trevor kept shouting instructions, you began to wonder when this maze would end. It had been more terrible than you predicted. Perhaps the nausea of the earlier car-ride still lay heavy on your stomach, which only increased with the current journey. Or maybe the fact that there were no blinkers or navigation used, made your brain confused and uncomfortable, leaving you with a sickening feeling. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

Had this been a bad idea?

Definitely.

Would you ever confess it?

Never.

“Close the window!” Trevor yelled to Katy, holding his hands over his ears.

“Do not close the window!” Shang-Chi shot after him, holding his hand beside Katy’s seat, leaving her unable to access the window buttons.

Your head rested against the backside of the chair in front of you, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, but with every following turn, you felt that uncomfortable substance rising back up. Your head felt too light to lift it now, but your stomach forced you to keep it up before everything would come back out.

You let your head fall towards the window, keeping it up in order to swallow everything down again. The sour feeling stung your throat, nearly making you gasp in uneasiness, but you did your best not to show it. The open window that provided you with fresh air, had begun to lose its purpose, now only filling you with a loud pounding in the ears, every other word suddenly passing by unheard. It wasn’t until you felt a warm hand on the one that clung to your jacket, that you moved your head.

Before even looking, you knew it was Shang-Chi, but there was little he could do for you now. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a bottle of cold water and a plastic bag. You gratefully took the offer, taking small sips from the bottle before placing the plastic bag on top of your jacket, just in case things would go sideways.

Your hands had grown all warm and soggy, nearly gliding off of the fabric. Your shirt was now nearly glued to your back. The hair you had refused to put up earlier was now suffocating your neck with a heat attack. You could feel the sweat of it fall down your body, making you move uncomfortably in your seat. A sharp ringing filled your ears, your vision showing black dots from time to time.

The car increased its speed suddenly. You had no idea what was happening, but you closed your eyes, not willing to look outside anymore. You needed your focus on your body, trying so desperately to maintain it.

Katy’s screaming disturbed the ringing in your ears as you felt an annoying banging against your brain.

And just like that, the car stopped moving. Heavy breathing was heard all around the car, but you had yet to open your eyes. The nauseating feeling was far from over. You figured it was best to continue driving before you would have to experience everything again.

“Everyone okay?” Katy asked, which went answered by multiple hums.

“Morris says to go right through there.” The man in front of you announced.

“Through the waterfall?” Katy asked incredulously.

“Yes.” Was the simple answer.

And then, the car was moving again. You heard the window beside you shut, but you made no intention to open your eyes yet.

“Y/N?” You heard Shang-Chi ask, but you ignored him, waving your hand towards him in a “let it go” manner.

How long the car had been driving afterwards, you did not know. You didn’t look outside, the earlier trip still heavy on your stomach. It wasn’t until the car suddenly stopped, that your stomach decided enough was enough, and resorted to throwing everything out.

You were hunched over the bag in your hands, the vomit slowly leaving your throat, much to your discomfort. You felt two gentle, yet unfamiliar hands wrap around your hair before tying it in a simple pony tail.

Your body felt as if it was on fire, your shirt definitely drenched by now. You tried to catch your breath, but you threw yourself back over the bag before you knew it. A second round falling out just as terrible as the first one.

You could hardly comprehend the door beside you opening, followed by a hand slowly, but steadily rubbing your back. You kept yourself above the bag, even though you were fairly sure you were done now. You began tying it, but it was taken from you before you could grab the ends.

As you unbuckled yourself and stood back up, black spots appeared in your vision again, making you stumble outside, before forcing you to sit down, your back against the car.

“Babe, can you hear me?” You faintly heard, making you hum silently, leaning your head against the car too, your eyes closing again.

“Are you okay?” He asked again, the voice now nearer.

“I just threw up twice. What do you think?” You mumbled.

Your statement went ignored, a soft hand being placed on top of your head instead.

“You’re burning up.” He remarked, untying your hair and wrapping it in a bun instead, making you sigh in relief.

“Give me a few minutes.” You stated quietly.

“Can you give me that bottle of water?” You followed up in a whisper. It was quiet for a moment before you felt the cold bottle back in your hands. You finished it quickly, handing it back when you were done.

“Do you need anything else?” He wondered again, his hand softly touching your cheek.

“A cold shower.” You mustered out, throwing your head forward, making it rest against Shang-Chi’s chest. “And a few painkillers.”

A low chuckle escaped his throat as his hand rested on your back, making you since slightly at the hot and sweaty shirt now being pushed against your body.

“Can you move yet?” He whispered patiently, letting you go, though he allowed your head to keep resting against him.

“Give me a moment.” You muttered, one of your hands falling to your stomach as if it would calm it down.

“That’s okay.” He answered, shifting a little bit before resting his head on top of yours, one of his his hands connecting with the one that was on your stomach.

“Xialing is doing the talking anyway.” He explained, his second hand falling to your neck and stroking it affectionately.

“Tell me when to get up.” He proposed, letting you pick your time and comfort.

You hummed in response, happy to be in his arms back on solid ground. You tried turning in your position, but your body quickly show down the idea, fresh nausea returning fast.

Shang-Chi understood what you were trying to do, luckily. He grabbed your waist, carefully turning you around, making your back rest against his chest.

“You’re drenched in sweat.” He noticed aloud, though that was the only thing he did about it.

Your head fell back in the crook of his neck, making Shang-Chi smile and rest his head against yours. Your hand tried reaching for his, even though you could not see anything right now.

“You want more water?” He misunderstood, his voice vibrating through his chest.

You just shook your head lightly, grabbing his arm and letting your hand slide down it until your hand connected with his. He squeezed it in comfort, before wrapping his arms around your body, holding you against him tightly, your hands toying with his fingers.

“I’m tired.” You whispered. “Do you mind if I fall asleep right here?”

Once more, Shang-Chi chuckled. “Of course not, babe.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled, sinking into his arms, nausea slowly subsiding as your mind finally drifted off.

You were glad he had been understanding, instead of cocky and full of himself at the moment. He did not mention your stubbornness earlier or your stupid comments. And you were thankful for that. You were far too tired or nauseous to deal with these comments now. They’d have to wait until tomorrow morning. Besides, a cold shower was next on the agenda, whether Ta Lo had that or not.

Taglist: @wlfstxr

[dameronology]

you have my number {bucky barnes x reader}

summary: bucky barnes' memory is a little selective, thanks to all the brainwashing - but one thing he'll never forget is his love for you, even if you're a complete & utter pain in the ass. his ass. (based on deja vu by olivia rodigro)

^even tho this fic refers to bucky as having a new gf, the reader is still g.n :)

this is spoiler free! enjoyyy

- jazz xx

Your relationship with Bucky Barnes had been nothing short of a train wreck.

And frankly, that was putting it nicely.

It had been a short & passionate affair; intense and sweet and filled with so much emotion in such high concentrations that you'd both almost drowned in it. For every euphoric moment, there had been one so low that you'd scraped your knees on the ground. Climbing a ladder to heaven whilst simultaneously digging your own graves had taken its toll on you both, and eventually, you had no choice but to go your separate ways. It had been for your own sanity, really.

So there he was, tucked away in a neat little box in your brain, labelled don't touch, ever. Even when you were completely wasted, surrounded by your friends and their respective lovers, you never dared to venture back down that particular memory lane. Forgetting all the bad parts and selectively remembering the good parts was easy enough to do, but you had the common sense to remember why you'd broken up in the first place. Because Bucky Barnes, despite being easy on the eyes and having a charming sense of humour, was a pain in your fucking ass. He managed to press every one of your buttons without even trying and his ability to bring out the best in you was completely and entirely wiped out by his tendency to bring out the worst. That wasn't even getting started on his emotional hold-ups; a can of worms neither of you had dared to open until it became the very reason for your demise.

Six months had passed, and you'd managed to expertly avoid him. You worked different missions and Sam Wilson, god bless his sweet soul, went the extra mile to ensure your paths never crossed in a professional sense. On a personal level, however? That was a little more difficult. New York City felt a lot smaller after your break up. You found yourself occasionally ducking under your hood when you saw him on the F-train, or rushing to cross the road when you saw him coming towards you on the street.

That was when you had the whole city to lose yourself in; streets and shops and little food carts to distract yourself with should you need to. Being confined to the same room for a work party was a different story entirely, and one you didn't want to read. Yet, thanks to some insistence from your boss and a little grovelling from your colleagues, you found yourself rocking up to the former Avengers tower on a Friday night.

"So you do exist outside of your work uniform?" Sam Wilson greeted you with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah - nice to see you too, Wilson."

Despite your initial attempts to elbow him in the rips, he wrestled you off of him and pulled you into a tight hug. Sam was one of your favourite colleagues and oldest friends - he'd witnessed the rise and fall of your relationship with Bucky, and been there for you both during the break-up. That had been an exhausting few days, running between your respective apartments in an attempt to offer emotional support to you both.

"D'you want some champagne?" He asked.

"I'm good, but thank-"

You froze, eyes widening at the sight of James Barnes across the room. He looked quintessentially the same, bar for the fact his hair was a little longer and he had a fresh, pink scar under his left eye. Having ditched his usual attire for a black blazer, he looked good. Annoyingly so, in fact. It made you secretly grateful that you'd chosen to dress up a little more than usual too.

"- on second thoughts." You took the flute of champagne from Sam, also grabbing a shot of vodka from the same trey. It was gone in seconds.

"Need I ask?" Sam gave you a playful frown. His brown eyes followed your gaze over his shoulder, landing on the man you'd been staring at. "Ah. I need not."

"Sorry." You murmured. "We haven't actually spoken since, y'know."

"Since you had a break-up that made Ross and Rachel look good?"

"I don't think Bucky has ever seen Friends." You quipped.

"His loss." Sam shrugged. "You should talk to him."

"Nope." You snorted. "Absolutely not. I don't even know if he's moved on."

"Judging by the pretty blonde on his arm, I think he has," Sam replied. "Would you look at that! They're headed right for us."

That was a lot of information to process at once. You would have needed a week alone for your poor, tired brain to deal with the fact that Bucky had someone else on his arm, and a further three days to big yourself up enough to talk to him. Alas, that was not the case tonight. Instead, you had about five seconds between Sam finishing his sentence and your ex-boyfriend reaching you. It was just as well you found the energy within that timeframe to down your champagne.

You could see the woman on his arm clearer now. To give credit where credit was due, she stunning. She looked like the sort of girl who smelt of strawberries and Chanel, and grew her own vegetables on the fire escape. The kind of person you swore to be with every New Year that came, but quickly ditched after a week, returning to drinking coffee from the Starbucks under your apartment rather than going to the organic, vegan place a few blocks over. There was an ethereal glow about her and fuck. You were mad.

"Sam!" Bucky called out to his friend - for a minute, you thought he was ignoring you, before you realised he genuinely didn't recognise you. Your name rolled off his tongue with a tone of uncertainty, as though he was learning a new language and still learning how to pronounce things. "Wow. You look...different."

"So do you." You shot back. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Katie." He awkwardly smiled. "My...my girlfriend."

"It's nice to meet you." You forced an equally pained grin, taking her hand in a shake.

"How do you and Bucky know each other?" She asked.

"Work." Bucky quickly said. You thinned your eyes at him, almost in disbelief.

"So you're an Avenger like these two?" Katie asked, clearly not picking up on the tension. "That's so cool."

"Not in an official capacity." You replied. "But they'd be fucked without me."

--

The night only got longer from there, really.

There wasn't enough champagne in the world to help the void in your soul. It was a gaping wound that Bucky Barnes had both filled and widened - and tonight, he was doing the latter. It sounded as though him and Katie were having a grand ol' time of it. From the parts of the conversation that you'd actually bothered to listen to, you'd gathered that she'd arrived in New York from London just over three months ago. That meant she had a fucking accent. Of course she did. It made everything she said a thousand times more interesting.

"We were in Paris, in this little cafe. What was it called, babe? Maison de vie?"

"Maison de l'amour, doll." Bucky corrected her. It had only sounded right when he was calling you that.

Your eyes shot up from your drink, immediately staring daggers at them both. The slimy bastard. You had been the one to show him that place. You'd been in Paris for a mission, and after realising it was your four-month anniversary, you'd taken him there for pancakes. It had been a slow morning, filled with hazy eyes and pink skies, and it had ended with him dropping the L-bomb for the first time. The photo you'd taken of Bucky, sat beside a pile of pancakes the same size of him and with whipped cream on his chin, had been your phone background until the day you broke up.

"I've been there." You didn't break away from his gaze, holding cold blue eyes in a trance that he found to be almost suffocating.

"Oh, nice!" Katie beamed. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Yeah." You sniffed. "The company was shit, though."

"Oh, man." She replied. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's not your fault." You gave her a sweet smile - to Bucky, it was a look of venom. "So, tell me more about your trip to Paris."

He quickly cleared his throat. "We didn't do much. Just a weekend getaway-"

"- are you forgetting that we saw Billy Joel?" Katie cut him off with a laugh. "The Billy Joel!"

"Right." It looked as though his mouth had gone completely dry.

"He told me he loved me for the first time to Uptown Girl-"

"-excuse me for a moment." You shoved your glass in her hand, before backing away from your little huddle.

Your brain was focused on getting away and only on getting away. The room suddenly felt a thousand times hotter, and a thousand times smaller too, as though the walls were closing in on you. Maybe that wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just collapsed around you and swallowed you fucking whole. Anything to get away from this situation.

Making a beeline for the balcony doors, you elbowed them open and stepped outside. The cold air of the rooftop gardens was a welcome contrast to the stuffy indoors, biting, night air hitting your face like an icy hug. The sounds of the city rung below you - sirens and yells and tourists - and tangled into the faint sound of the music, all parts of a world that your brain was working overtime to block out.

You focused on the city instead, using the bright lights of the surrounding buildings to anchor you to reality. None of it really even made sense - you were over Bucky. Had been for a long time. It was just the thought of him doing all the things that he'd done with you, with someone else. It made you feel a little bad for Katie, too.

"I was going to tell you about Billy Joel."

You glanced over your shoulder, giving a derivative snort. "Piss off, Bucky."

"I'm serious." He ignored your demand, cautiously approaching you.

"I brought you those tickets!" You turned around to face him. "We were meant to go together. Billy Joel was our thing."

"We broke up!' He reminded you. "Like I said, I was going to tell you that we went together-"

"- I don't care." You cut him off. "I genuinely don't care."

"That was a lot of storming off for someone who doesn't care."

"Okay, maybe I care a little bit." You huffed, taking a seat on a bench. "It's not even that you're with someone else, it's that you're doing all the things we did. The nicknames, the pancake place, the concert."

"I..." Bucky took a seat beside you, pondering for a moment.

"And declaring your love for someone to Uptown Girl is fucking weird." You muttered.

"Do you have a better suggestion?"

"Vienna, obviously."

"You're such a pain in the ass." Bucky replied. "But for what it's worth, I wasn't thinking of Katie in that moment."

You glanced up at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"D'you remember that morning when we were in New Orleans?" He asked. "And we had a few hours to kill before our flight, so you started dancing around the hotel room to Uptown Girl?"

"I remember." You softly smiled.

"That was when I realised I loved you." He admitted. "I was replaying that in my head at the concert, and it just kinda came out, and Katie heard."

"Damn." You muttered. "Sucks to be her, huh?"

"I like Katie." He said. "Truth be told, doll, I'm still stuck in the past a little bit. With you, and with what we had."

"We fucking hated each other by the end, Buck."

"I know, but I mean all the stuff before that." He explained. "You were the first person who saw me for who I am and not what I've done. The first person that actually made me feel loved and worthy."

"I do try."

He lightly elbowed you "I'm serious. I think I'm just projecting my longing for what we had onto my current relationship."

"You're being painfully honest tonight." You observed. "It's fucking weird."

"Who taught me to be painfully honest?"

"Right." You rolled your eyes. "So this is how Frankenstein felt when he created his monster."

"You're the worst," Bucky muttered. "I genuinely am sorry, though. I shouldn't be recycling our memories. I should make new ones.'

Dusting off your trousers, you stood up. "You're right."

"Thank you, though."

"For what?"

"For finding me first," He replied, "and for teaching me what love is."

"Well, if you ever need to be reminded? You have my number."

[sapphicsoie]

73 questions

on a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now? solid 6, i am excited to live in norway for 5 months.

describe yourself in a hashtag? #wellshitok

if you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be? timothee chalamet if it's a film that has the vibe of cmybn, but tom holland if it's a movie that is mainstream.

if your life was a musical, what would the marquee say? probably something like "don't worry!"

what’s one thing people don’t know about you? people don't know that i sleep with a baby blanket named blankey who is actually not a blanket i have had since i was a baby but actually the same type of blanket i had when i was 5. this is the third blanket i have had since then, she (yes she uses she/her pronouns) is from lands end (i buy a new one whenever she turns to literal threads). i got the one i sleep with now when i was 15.

what’s your wake up ritual? i don't really have one unless i'm like at camp or have class, then i will read in bed for a bit if i can, shower, drink a tea and eat breakfast, and brush my teeth last. i also like to listen to music.

what’s your go to bed ritual? i always wash my face and either shower or have a bath, then do skincare, take out contacts, brush teeth, put on lip balm, read in bed, then sleep.

what’s your favorite time of day? i love when the sun is setting.

your go to for having a good laugh? tiktok, or sonny with a chance or kim possible compilations.

dream country to visit? iceland or new zealand

what’s the biggest surprise you’ve ever had? that my dad who is slightly homophobic is actually into kinky gay sex and is a bottom.

heels or flats/sneakers? sneakers.

vintage or new? depends, i would say new for clothes because they don't make cute vintage clothes for fat women, but i love vintage cameras and furniture

who do you want to write your obituary? my best friend katie and if i die before her, my mom.

style icon? fictional? noora amelie sætre. irl? i love zendaya's style for the most part.

what are three things you cannot live without? my phone, my antidepressants, and something to read.

what’s one ingredient you put in everything? GARLIC but also love salt and pepper. i am very white.

what 3 people living or dead would you want to make dinner for? ummmm maybe like my grandma who i never met and or like isak valtersen, sana bakkoush and even bech næsheim from skam lmao.

what’s your biggest fear in life? feeling like my life is meaningless and i won't be rememebered.

window or aisle seat? used to be window, now it's aisle. i gotta pee!!

what’s your current tv obsession? haven't been watching tv AT ALL but i loved moon knight.

favorite app? tumblr or ao3 if that counts as an app, more of a website tho

secret talent? i am very flexible, and can do all three splits, and a perfect cartwheel.

most adventurous thing you’ve ever done in your life? i dated a girl in high school in a small town in the deep south

how would you define yourself in three words? determined, honest, lonely

favorite piece of clothing you own? rn it's a plain ribbed t-shirt from target

a must have clothing item that everyone should have? plain ribbed shirt and comfy high rise jeans

a superpower you would want? shape shifting

what’s inspiring you in life right now? to be transparent, i am simply existing for the most part. i do really want to graduate so i can move to nyc and try acting and not be in school for the first time in 15 years.

best piece of advice you’ve received? that it is okay to feel and show your emotions and that doesn't make you any less strong or capable.

best advice you’d give your teenage self? you won't feel this awful forever. i promise. also, don't let her hurt you over and over again. and lastly, just because you are in pain doesn't mean you have to force your anger and sadness and despair onto others, be kind.

a book everyone should read? i don't read as much as i used to, but i think a book/series that made me who i am is a series of unfortunate events by lemony snicket.

what would you like to be remembered for? i hope i'm remembered as someone who left the world better than it was in some way shape or form, even if it's trivial.

how do you define beauty? i think it depends on the person and what kind of beauty. i think there is no simple way to define beauty because it's so subjective.

what do you love most about your body? my eyes, they are a really pretty shade of blue with a gold ring around the pupil.

best way to take a rest/decompress? listen to music, read, lay in the pitch dark listening to music or city rain sounds

favorite place to view art? gonna be transparent i cannot look at art for more than like 30 seconds, so maybe a museum but i don't really view art :/

if your life was a song, what would the title be? liability by lorde.

if you could master one instrument, what would it be? piano, i played it growing up but stopped.

if you had a tattoo, where would it be? probably somewhere pretty hidden, maybe my ankle or the side of ribs?? idk

dolphins or koalas? koalas literally fuck dolphins

what’s your spirit animal? a platypus.

best gift you’ve ever received? probably my macbook, i use it a lot. idk i've never been given a super sentimental gift?? my friend recently gave me a really pretty drawing of me for my birthday though.

best gift you’ve given? horrible at gifts but got my dad a fancy speaker for christmas but little does he know it was 75% off.

what’s your favorite board game? don't really play them at all and never really have but i like chess

what’s your favorite color? baby pink

least favorite color? any bright colour. or like orange. or teal. i am picky.

diamond or pearls? pearls!!!

drugstore makeup or designer? mostly designer but the occasional drugstore product

blow-dry or air-dry? air-dry unless someone else is doing my hair

pilates or yoga? yoga

coffee or tea? tea, but if i need caffeine, coffee.

what’s the weirdest word in the english language? hippomonstrosesquippiedaliophobia.

dark chocolate or milk chocolate? milk but i'm not a huge chocolate gal

stairs or elevators? elevators

summer or winter? winter 4ever i hate sweating

you are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat? probably something nutritious if we are being practical like salmon and quinoa but if we are being honest, steak and yorkshire pudding

a dessert you don’t like? super chocolatey stuff. or ice cream that is fruit flavoured. disgusting.

a skill you’re working on mastering?

best thing to happen to you today? the children went home and i get to drink tonight

worst thing to happen to you today? woke up at 7.30 am and had to spend time with children until they finally left at 12 pm

best compliment you’ve ever received? that i am determined and resilent.

favorite smell? christmas eve candle by yankee candle. smells like childhood.

hugs or kisses?

if you made a documentary, would it be about? a documentary about how internet culture and grooming affected girls born in the late 90's-early 2000's, like myself and so many of my friends did some crazy shit online as a kid.

last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?

lipstick or lipgloss? lipgloss!!

sweet or savory? savoury but i also love sweets

girl crush? zendaya, maybe margot robbie?? josefine frida pettersen is gorgeous

how do you know your in love? when you never get tired of being around them. like your social battery never runs out with them.

a song you can listen to on repeat? currently kjøre oss by marie ulven (girl in red before she was girl in red)

if you could switch lives with someone for a day, who would it be? probably a rich person who lives in nyc or canada or norway

what are you most excited for about this time in your life? moving to oslo in the fall!!

tagged by @silkscream

tagging: @peterthepark @spidervee @indouloureux

[fruitcoops]

Hi! I love your writing! I live for every notification that you've posted something new.

I really like your fics where Coops are being fluffy and adorable, and the team finds them and are all adorable about it, like the Sirius cuddle one. I think that's my favorite.

Would you write Coops skating together before/after practice, and the team finding them and quietly going mushy watching?

I love those moments, too! This was an interesting (and difficult) fic for me to write, since I've never written Cole before, but I'm so looking forward to him in Vaincre. The song playing at the rink is 'American Gods' by ONR. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Cole frowned. Upon Katie Dumais’ request, he had listened to “Hoedown Throwdown” enough times in the past two weeks to know the rhythm in his sleep, and that third beat just wasn’t lining up. He paused his attempt at working through the mess of his stall and straightened up, removing one earbud—sure enough, different music drifted from outside the locker room.

Someone else was at the rink.

He scanned the locker room, but saw no gear other than his own; two voices burst into faint laughter. Not the janitor, then. “Hello?” he called cautiously. It wasn’t against the rules for him to be at practice early, but maybe it was frowned upon by the others. Oh god, what if he became known as ‘the early guy’? The last ‘early guy’ he knew had become a suckup Coach’s pet, and everyone hated him for it.

There was a clatter, then more of the voices. Cole took his earbuds out and crept into the hall, wincing with each squeak of his sneakers.

Dumo’s at home, so it’s not the kids…Cole bit his lip as he tiptoed around the corner to the rink. “Oh, shit!” someone yelped before dissolving into laughter. He spotted two duffel bags on the bench, still full of gear, before a blur of movement flashed past and he had to duck behind the wall again to stay out of sight.

“Did you just trip over yourself?” Remus shouted across the ice from the other end with a wide grin. Cole craned his neck in time to see the captain nod, red-faced. “The great Sirius Black, everyone. Bravo, sir!”

Sirius skated over and checked him lightly—neither of them were wearing their pads, just skates and regular clothes. It was an odd sight. Cole felt a little like his two worlds were colliding. Off the ice, Remus and Sirius were kind (if a bit intimidating), and close with the team in a way he desperately wished for himself. On the ice, Cap and Loops were a wicked one-two punch that he idolized. They were careful with their words, and closed-off whenever media was around.

But out there, in their street clothes with well-loved sticks and a scattered collection of pucks, they looked so very different than the people Cole thought he knew.

A new song came on and Remus started doing the Sprinkler; Sirius had to sit down for a moment to catch his breath from laughing so hard, only to be dragged back to his feet and pulled along as Remus skated backwards. “If I have to get up, you have to sing for me,” he said with a groan, though his fond smile was visible from twenty feet away.

“Tell me all of my secrets, tell me all of my lies,” Remus sang, then paused. “And something, something, something…oh, American gods.”

Sirius shook his head. “Hopeless. Isn’t this your playlist?”

“I only added it for the drumbeat!” Remus protested, spinning him in a slow circle. “What, do you want to change it?”

“No, I want to watch you try to remember the lyrics while I push you over.”

“Wh—” Remus cut off with a squawk when Sirius let go of his hand mind-twirl, nearly sending him to the ice. “Son of a bitch!”

“Yes?” Sirius bit his lip and made a dash for the other end of the rink as Remus raced after him; Cole would never understand how someone so compact could build up that much speed in mere seconds. They chased each other in loops and swirls around the fresh ice, their voices echoing off the empty bleachers that didn’t hold a single fan or camera.

Realization trickled in like summer rain and he rested his shoulder against the wall. If he didn’t know them, Cole would have thought they were just some random couple, instead of two of the most famous modern athletes. He wasn’t watching Cap and Loops warming up for practice—he was watching Sirius and Remus screwing around in their free time, on the equivalent of a date.

Remus tried to dip sideways—a move that had helped him evade countless opponents, though Cole could never figure out—but Sirius caught him around the waist at the last second and lifted him off the ice. “Dirty play!” Remus called, sticking two fingers in his mouth to whistle. “Ten minutes in the box.”

“Ten minutes?” Sirius laughed. “I don’t think there’s an official penalty for picking other players up.”

“You wounded me.”

“Wimp.”

“My emotional state is in tatters,” Remus insisted as he kicked his legs halfheartedly. “I’ll never recover from this.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius set him down and turned him around, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I feel short when you do that.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you are short.”

“Tremzy is short. I’m above the national average for men’s height by four full inches.”

“Shortie.” Sirius caught his hands and pulled, skating backward across the ice as the next chorus began. “Show my life in a mirror, through the opposite side—”

“Singing won’t get you out of this.”

“—and we kill for that moment, when we long to take flight—”

“How do you even know this song?”

“Because I actually remember lyrics when I listen to music,” he teased, turning them in a wobbly circle.

Remus leaned back, using his momentum to slide closer until they bumped chests. “Poet.”

Cole forgot that they were people, sometimes. Just people, enjoying some well-deserved time out of the spotlight.

“Cute, aren’t they?”

Cole jolted and clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his yelp of surprise.

James shot him an amused look. “They do this before every afternoon practice.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“It’s so…normal.” He knew his bafflement shone through every word, but Pots seemed unbothered. Ahead of them, Sirius was lip-syncing to an old Paramore song as Remus tried to skate around him to get to the goal.

Pots raised an eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”

Cole made a vague gesture. “I dunno, actual practice? Running drills? The captain face?”

“The what?” James laughed quietly.

“The captain face.” He felt heat rise to his cheeks. “The one where it looks like you’re about to get reamed out by Cap at any given moment. It’s terrifying.”

“Reyes, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s just his resting face.” Pots clapped him on the shoulder. “He’s the definition of RBF.”

Cole blinked at him. “This whole time, I thought he was gonna kill me if I slipped up.”

“Yup.”

“I’ve been afraid of him for two months and that’s just his face?”

“You get used to it.” He turned Cole back toward the ice, where Sirius’ smile was brighter than every fluorescent light in the building. “But he only looks like that around Loops.”

They stumbled a little going through an awkward attempt at a waltz, but they recovered at the last second, and Remus pulled him in for a light kiss. Cole felt his blush creep to his ears. “Should we go?”

Pots shrugged one shoulder. “They won’t notice either way.”

“This isn’t…creepy? They’re basically on a date.”

“They’re at the rink, remember?” A gleam entered his eye behind his glasses. “That means we get to chirp them for PDA in the workplace.”

Cole paused for a second and looked back, where Remus was playing keepaway with Sirius’ beanie. They darted around each other, practically flying over the ice—their footwork looked as natural as if they were born doing it. “It must be hard for them.”

“What?”

“Finding time to do this.” He glanced at James. “Everyone is expecting them to be one way all the time. I expected them to be one way all the time.”

James’ face softened and he draped an arm over Cole’s shoulders, leading him back down the hallway. “That’s what we’re here for. The best thing about this team isn’t our cohesion on the ice, or the Cup we won, or any of that. It’s that we’re friends, on and off the ice. As long as you remember that, you’ll never have to fit yourself in one specific box.”

Cole blinked at him. In two months of mentorship, he had never thought of James Potter as wise. “I swear you’re the same person that put shaving cream in everyone’s skates and blamed Harzy for it.”

James barked a laugh and ruffled his hair. “No boxes, Reyes. No boxes.”

[imagine-loki]

.....And that’s enough for you

TITLE: … and that’s enough for you  ONE SHOT AUTHOR: ValarieRavenhearst2  ORIGINAL IMAGINE :Imagine getting blind drunk at a nightclub with your friends and Loki protesting that you should head home but you keep saying you’re ‘fine’. After the fourth time you stumble over he’s had enough and throws you over his shoulder and takes you home to look after you.

RATING: 

NOTES: Was gunna make it nasty but ended being happy with cute fluff. 

  The atmosphere at the Avengers base was brimming with excitement as the day was drawing to a close. Friday. Just about all the cadets and agents were ready to hit the town and get the weekend started. Some members who live off the base are arriving back to pick up their friends after getting ready individually. Reverie, an intelligence agent whose role and position has been a constant roller coaster for the past two years, arrives back so that she can have pre-drinks with her friends (who are classed as the rowdy bunch on the base). She had been an active rising star field agent until she was injured in an explosion which resulted in her being benched in intelligence until her performance could be up to scratch again. But since she showed such exceptional skills in her benched field – nobody bothered to hurry the process along. Then along came a certain God of Mischief who needed a lot of one on one time. The job description was more of a Handler but it became a very flexible title. They needed someone who could earn his trust and keep him calm because the directors were all nervous of the murderous persona that was hidden underneath that charming smile. After it was revealed that his war crimes were influenced under the power of the Mind Stone everyone kind of had to just ‘forgive’ him. The exact details are on a need to know basis but currently he’s living on his own wing of the base so that he can be well monitored (just in case). If the Avengers aren’t doing a group mission then he generally stays on the base and keeps to himself. And since he’s generally well behaved the ‘handler’ position has become a flexible term, leaving Reverie’s career once again up in the air.

    Reverie enters the common area of the living quarters where music is already pumping through the speakers as the girls get ready. They all come take a round of shots and some warm up selfies before Reverie goes to check on Loki for the night. She finds him quickly heading back to his quarters and he stops to admire his friend’s striking appearance. He seldom sees her in such a casual attire. Her low cut mini dress was positively revealing, and arousing. The skirt hem swishes around the middle of her thighs as she walks and the neck line scoops over the tops of her breasts to show as much cleavage as possible before they are practically popping out. Though the mesh sleeves and covering runs across her collar bones for that extra layer of security. Loki’s eyes sparkle mischievously with glee as Reverie dances through the hallway to stop him.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” She sings, wrapping her arms over his shoulders, which she can reach with ease thanks to her stilettos.

“I was about to ask you the same thing?” He flashes her an accusing grin as his hands come to rest respectively above her waist.

“It’s Friday, come out with us.” She pleas and he mockingly rolls his eyes at her.

“Hmm, I’ll have to think about it.” He muses and she presses her body against his as she tugs gently on his neck.

“Please…” She pleads, not planning on taking no for an answer.

“I’m just so awfully busy at the moment.”

“Oh phft, we both know you are just going to go to your room and do nothing. Come on, come live a little.” She forces him to slow dance with her which evokes a small chuckle. “It’ll be fun.” She promises but again he declines as he twirls her out of his arms and keeps walking. “Loki, please?” She makes one last attempt, wanting to spend the night with her closest friend.

“Go have fun, Reve, you don’t need me for that.” He waves over his shoulder and she slumps in defeat, knowing that she can never pull him out quickly from a brooding state.

“Well we all know that’s just a lie.” She calls and she can hear him chuckle in the distance before she too, turns on her heel back to the party. She enters the common room again as everyone is ordering cars and taking shots. Katie, another intelligence officer looks at her with an encouraging smile moving her hands to ask whether or not the god of mischief would be joining. She shakes her head with a exaggerated pout before taking a shot. Katie matches her expression but doesn’t bombard her with questions, not wanting to upset her as she knows how much she actually wanted Loki to come. Another girl however loudly boos, commenting how good it was that one time Loki actually came out. Reverie remembers the time fondly, it had indeed been a sensational night. Though it had ended poorly the next day when her boyfriend had thrown a fit about her being so ‘friendly’ with the god. She had actually made out on a dare with two of her other friends as a joke but that was okay “’cause who doesn’t love girl on girl action’ as he put it. But god forbid Loki hugging her around the waist.    Not that it was public knowledge yet, but Reverie’s boyfriend had broken up with her suddenly, leaving Rev reeling in confusion. She had only told Katie because she had caught her having a moment at work earlier in the week. So with her cupids wings on, Katie sneaks out to go get Loki. She sprints across the compound as fast as her high heeled shoes will allow before she begins knocking wildly on his door. When the stubborn bastard takes forever to open up the door she begins calling out. When he does open the door, he appears less than impressed – his scowl would have broken a weaker person.

“You have to come out.” She insists and he just rolls his eyes as he goes to berate her for acting like someone had been shot. “Listen, no on knows, but Reve and Nathen broke up.” She informs, still deciding whether or not she will regret spilling her friend’s secrets. “And you’re her friend so that means you have to come out and support her.” Loki’s eyes widen in contemplation – he can’t say he’s sorry. He hated that little punk but held his tongue for the sake of Rev. He wonders why she hadn’t told him herself? Katie can feel his demeanour softening so she continues to probe him. “Come on, it’ll be fun, she just needs to have a good time and she can’t fully do that unless she’s got her trickster god by her side.” He finally reluctantly agrees and before Katie can order them a cab he says he’ll drive as  Midgardian alcohol doesn’t get him drunk any way.   When the two late comers finally show up at the club Reverie is on her fifth drink and positively buzzing. When she sees Loki swimming through a sea of mortals to get to her she is absolutely elated; cheering with both her arms in the air. She hugs him tightly, trying not to spill her drink on him. She has to yell over the throbbing music even though she’s holding him.

“You came.” She observes with exuberance at her best friend’s sudden appearance, barely making out his appearance between each seizuring strobe light.

“I decided I needed to live a little.” His lips are practically on her ear as they speak. She pulls him on to the dance floor with the other girls who are just as pleased to see him; coming up to grind themselves up on him to welcome him to the dance circle.    With every passing hour Loki notices Reverie trying to drink her body weight and tries to lightly encourage her to slow down. But she continuously boasts that she is fine and continues to dance like there’s no tomorrow. When she’s out of the safety of his embrace he watches as she stumbles spectacularly and he rushes to her thinking that for sure her ankle must be broken. But as he reaches her she’s already back up and bobbing like nothing happened. He already suspects that she’ll be in a world of hurt tomorrow. The night begins to merge into morning and the club shows no sign of slowing down, in fact it becomes fuller and Loki struggles to locate his troubled little friend in a sea of darkness as the strobe lights become disorientating. When he finally catches a glimpse of her, she’s bent up against a wall table taking shots with her friends whilst a group of guys come up behind her and try to start groping her as she dances. Startled by their actions she flinches to try and manoeuvre away but the crowding causes her to stumble. Before she can hit the ground Loki is pulling her back up and into him. With his free arm he slams one of the guy’s head into the table and throws him backwards; and in the strobing light no one is the wiser. Reverie begins to say that she is fine but Loki argues, throwing her over his shoulder and marching out. He piles her into the back seat of his car and switches on the child lock. Her body aches with relief as her legs begin to ache from exhaustion so she doesn’t persist with arguing but manages to sit herself up so she can see him in the rear view mirror.

“Where are we going?” A yawn overtakes her as her body relaxes in to the leather upholstery.

“I’m taking you home.” He tries not to sound too much like an overprotective parent and reminds himself not to chide her.

“Okay.” She shrugs easily, her mind happy to be able to fully shut off as it doesn’t have to worry about getting a way home. “I promise I didn’t invite you to be my deso.” She adds.

“I know.” He chuckles lightly, observing her sitting contently, her head rolling side to side with every turn and bump.  

“When am I going to see you drunk?” She babbles. They’ve shared many drinks together and she’s never even seen him tipsy all because of his godly stature.

“Well unless we raid the cellars of Asgard, then never.” He jokes and she leans forward to rest her head on the edge of his seat.

“I’d do that with you.” She promises and wholeheartedly means it. “When do you want to go? We can go right now, sneak in through some tunnels, you dad would never even know we were there.” She begins to formulate and Loki laughs robustly, reaching over to pat her on top of her head.

“Oh I’m sure you would be such an inconspicuous little thief, stumbling around in those ridiculous stilts.”

“Look, buddy,” she hiccups, “we’re not all born with giraffe necks for legs, so we’ve got to get a little creative.” She continues to make him laugh all the way to her drive way, then he helps her out of the car with a supportive arm around her as they walk up the front path. After a brief moment of searching for her keys, Loki just waves his hand over the door and the locks open. “Thanks magic boy.” She mumbles as she stumbles over the threshold, throwing her purse over somewhere and pulling off her heels. Her legs scream in protest at the sudden change in angle and she almost wishes to just cut them off. Loki scoops her up before she can have a tantrum and carries her off to her room; placing her in the middle of her bed. With no energy to open her eyes she lays still, hearing Loki move about her room. “I don’t want to get ready for bed.” She whines as her limbs ache but her mind refuses to let her sleep with her face still caked with makeup. Luckily everything she needs should be within arm’s reach because she planned for this. “Will you help me?” She pleads as she stretches out her body and her arms become stuck above her head.

“Of course I will.” She feels him crawl on to the bed, climbing on top of her to straddle her hips. “What would you like me to do?” He questions, his tone playful as his fingers lightly caress up and down her sides. She giggles as she thinks of many things she would actually like him to do.

“Can you pass me the wipes, they should just be over there somewhere.” Her fingers point in the vicinity of her bedside chest as her arms go to sleep momentarily. Loki reaches across effortlessly and retrieves the packet, pulling a towelette out he begins wiping away the layer of makeup that covers her face starting at her chin. She giggles hysterically which causes his own laughter to rumble with hers. “It tickles,” she laughs and he tries to be more firm to cease her babbling amusement. The black glitter on her eyes is more hesitant to be removed and smudges all around her eyes.

“How on earth were you going to do this alone?” He questions as this task is becoming harder then he thought.

“I don’t know.” She mumbles with a drunken smile, she’s always gotten it off before. The stars just must align at this time. “You need to take the lashes off.” She informs and she would have laughed if she could see Loki’s startled expression.

“How?” His voice goes high as if he’s watching someone give birth.

“You just pull them off.” She tries to wake her arms up so that she can do it herself but it’s going to take a little bit of manoeuvring. Loki gently touches the lashes before gently trying to peel them off. When the first one begins to pull away he makes an uncomfortable groan which sounds like he’s watching someone have surgery on their eyeballs. “It’s not that bad,” she giggles, her arms coming back to life.

“Why on earth do you do this to yourself?” He mockingly questions as he can’t see a substantial reason behind this peculiar task.

“Too make myself look pretty.” She laughs as she’s able to force her eyes open again when he’s finished.

“Reve, you’re already stunning.” She looks up at him and becomes saddened by the adoration she sees in him.

“Nathan doesn’t think so.” She whispers with a mirthless smile as she tries not to cry.

“Then he’s blundering bilgesnipe.” He cups her face gently and kisses her forehead, “why didn’t you tell me you broke up?” He questions as he caress her hair gently.

“I don’t know.” She continues to whisper so she can’t hear the sadness in her tone, “it just makes me sad. And I wasn’t ready for everyone’s harsh opinions.” She shrugs as she avoids his gaze by playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You know you don’t have to hide things from me.” He adjusts his body so he’s gently laying on top of her as he kisses her cheek gently. “I’ll always listen.” A small squeak emits in her throat as she wills away the tears; holding his head down so he doesn’t see her cry. “I’m sorry.” He mumbles against her pulse. “He wasn’t worthy of you.”

“Thank you.” She sniffles and blinks away her welling tears. Content and happy in his arms she allows herself to drift off again and when she’s calm Loki finishes getting her ready for bed before joining her; laying down next to her with a protective arm draped across her.

[sinsbymanka]

Hello!! It is @rare-egg-hunt month which means we are officially celebrating all our Solas rare pairs!

If you're following this blog you may be somewhat aware I've been "painting" my eggs all through March. Starting next Monday I'm going to be pushing out a multichaptered story built around 12 of the prompts from the Rare Egg Hunt. It's called Cheating the Dread Wolf and will focus on the post-Trespasser love story of Maria Cadash, Solas, and Varric Tethras.

Maria Cadash hung up the Inquisitor's mantle for the Viscountess' crown, but she's unable to stop her desperate and impossible struggle to stop Fen'Harel from destroying the world both her husband and daughter inhabit. The fact Varric, Maria, and Solas are all madly in love with each other just means she may have enough of an edge to win this game.

In other words, everyone is poly and happy but first there's some shit they've gotta go through. I promise there will be angst, fluff, smut, dad Varric, dad Solas, and mama Cadash. Plus an absolutely ADORABLE baby as a treat.

I also have a playlist to go with it! Here's a list of all my songs and why I've picked them as a sneak peek!

Things That Stop You Dreaming by Passenger

If you can't be what you want You learn to be the things you're not If you can't get what you need You learn to need the things that stop you dreaming Oh the things that stop you dreaming

The PINING at the beginning of this story is outrageous. It is honestly a sequel to two fics, the first of which was written by the lovely @blarfkey who inspired, enable, and beta'd this entire project. (seriously. It would never have happened without her and I owe her so much for the idea and the love she's poured into it alongside me).

The two fics can be found in the series Three Liars Mend Broken Hearts on AO3. It shows the way Solas and Maria can't seem to stay away from each other and the ill advised sexy times that happens as a result (yes these are both smut with plot and feelings). So by the time we start Cheating the Dread Wolf they've already acted on their feelings even though they shouldn't and they're all a bit of a mess.

Rest of the playlist below!

Never Really Over by Katy Perry 

Two years, and just like that, my head still takes me back Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over Oh, we were such a mess, but wasn't it the best? Thought it was done, but I guess it's never really over

I revisit the theme of not being able to let go and move on a lot in this story - in both good and bad ways. Varric, in particular, is completely unwilling to give up on Solas no matter what. Solas is unable to let go of his past. Maria can’t let go of her distrust. It’s all a mess.

Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy

So we hide away and never tell You decide, if darkness knows you well That lesson of love, all that it was I need you to see You got that power over me

This is such a good smut song. I will live and die on this hill. It’s on my smut playlist too. ANYWAY. This is a good song for Maria and Solas. Also. Smut. 

That Man by Caro Emerald

Ooh that man is like a flame And ooh that man plays me like a game My only sin is I can't win Ooh I wanna love that man

This is a recommendation from @blarfkey and is the quintessential Varric romance song. I picked this one for a very specific chapter where Varric in effect tricks Solas into a tea party with him and Varric and Maria’s daughter. 

Hold My Girl by George Ezra

I've got time, I've got love Got confidence you'll rise above Give me a minute to hold my girl Give me a minute to hold my girl

This is actually for a chapter that mostly focuses on parenthood and how it brings our trio together. It’s very angsty and heartwrenching and I love it so much. 

You are the Reason by Calum Scott

I don't wanna hide no more I don't wanna cry no more Come back I need you to hold me (You are the reason) Be a little closer now Just a little closer now Come a little closer I need you to hold me tonight

This is THE OT3 song and the unofficial theme song of this fucking fic. I have listened to it on repeat more than anything else on this playlist. 

Me and the Devil by the Fratellis

Tell one last beautiful lie for me Make all your promises rhyme for me Keep me in line but do it honestly Make it real, make it slow, stay alive for me Come on, babe where the line goes dead I'll be fire, I'll be rain, I'll be joy, I'll be dread Come on, baby don't be shy All I want is you and I Out on the street I'll be every face There'll be no man alive That can take my place

This song just gives me Solas related chills. I cannot with it. These two verses in particular scream Varric, Solas, and Maria. This is also on the playlist at approximately the part of the story where shit starts going down. Also another @blarfkey recommendation. 

Move by Saint Motel

This girl, this beautiful girl, with eyes the size of the o-o-ocean. This man, this dutiful man, he's got these mixed up emo-o-o-tions. I want it, can't have it. Oh I can hardly stand it. Oh what's a man to do... Gotta get up, I gotta get up. Move!

A recent addition to this playlist thanks to @paisleybees who sent this to me as I was writing a chapter that fit it PERFECTLY. I actually picture it as a Varric/Solas song for this work. 

Monster by Paramore

I'll stop the whole world, I'll stop the whole world From turning into a monster and eating us alive Don't you ever wonder how we survive? Well now that you’re gone, the world is ours

Another “shit is getting real” song and another @blarfkey recommendation. This is a McFighterson Cadash song for sure. It’s also what I picture for the sole action sequence in this fic. 

Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars

You only know what I want you to I know everything you don't want me to Oh your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine You think your dreams are the same as mine Oh I don't love you but I always will

Enemies and Lovers. Enemies and lovers. Need I say more?! This is SUCH a good song for that trope!

Silence by Marshmello (featuring Khalid) 

I found peace in your violence Can't tell me there's no point in trying I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long I found peace in your violence Can't tell me there's no point in trying I'm at one, and I've been silent for too long

Circling back around to themes of letting go and holding on. This kind of starts the happy ending bit of this work (YES I SWEAR THERE’S A HAPPY ENDING). 

This Year’s Love by David Gray

This year's love had better last 'Cause who's to worry if our hearts get torn When that hurt gets thrown Don't ya know this life goes on? Won't ya kiss me on that midnight street? Sweep me off my feet Singing, "ain't this life so sweet?"

HAPPY ENDING. A bittersweet but ultimately hopeful one <3 

Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney

Do you walk in the valley of kings? Do you walk in the shadow of men Who sold their lives to a dream? Do you ponder the manner of things In the dark? The dark, the dark, the dark I am flesh and I am bone Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold I've got fire in my soul Rise up, ting ting, like glitter

This is for the epilogue. It’s called the Dread Wolf Cub Rises and I refuse to give any other details. 

BONUS

Problem by Natalia Kills 

I'm your dream girl This is real love But you know what they say about me... That girl is a problem Girl is a problem Girl is a problem problem

Bea Cadash shows up a lot in this fic with her background sweet angel boyfriend Cole. There’s been a couple times where I need to write Bea and this is just the perfect song to capture her goddamn attitude. 

Anyway! Happy egg hunting!

[wistfulcynic]

The Meet-Cute (2 of 2)

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six... whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

First part on Tumblr and AO3 

a/n: this chapter contains sweetness, quite a lot of silliness, and a big ol’ hot kiss. 

Thanks to @optomisticgirl for the idea and @thisonesatellite, @ohmightydevviepuu, and @katie-dub for support and general delightfulness. 

-

PART TWO:

The next day was Wednesday and Emma spent the morning on patrol, driving around Storybrooke and trying not to think about how far away Friday was. She was just about to take a break and go to Granny’s for some coffee when her phone rang. The name on the screen was just about the last one she would ever have expected, and she frowned hard at it for the space of a good four rings before answering. 

“Graham?” 

“Hey, Emma.” His voice was just as she remembered it, gruff and accented. And faintly apologetic, which was new. “Um. Long time.” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. How’s life in the woods?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s good. And, um, about that. It’s actually why I’m calling. Because I can’t come in to town, I mean.” 

“Well I didn’t think it was because you wanted to catch up on old times,” said Emma drily. “What’s the problem?” 

“It’s my truck.” Graham paused and the silence stretched. 

“Your truck?” Emma prompted, her patience wearing thin. She was not in the mood for Graham’s strong-and-silent schtick today.  

“My truck.” He sighed. “It—well, it seems to be out of gas.” 

Emma rubbed her temples. “And how is your lack of forward planning the responsibility of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department?” she asked, in a voice just shy of a snap. 

“Well that’s the thing, I did forward plan,” said Graham. “I had a full tank last night because I knew that today I needed to drive to Portland. There’s a forestry convention I’m going to—well, it’s not important, but I wanted to get an early start so I made sure everything was ready before I went to bed last night. Then this morning I wake up to find my tank empty and the spare can missing.”

A creeping suspicion was beginning to crawl up Emma’s spine. “So you think, what, someone stole your gas?” 

“I know it sounds crazy, but honestly I can’t come up with any other explanation.” 

“Graham, do you happen to know Ruby Lucas?” 

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was confused. “Ah, the woman at the diner?” 

“That’s her.” 

“I chat with her whenever I go there, maybe once or twice a month. She seems nice. Why?” 

“No reason.” Emma glowered through her windshield at Granny’s sign as she drove past it. “Listen, I can bring you a can of gas but it’ll take me at least half an hour to get it and get out to you. Does that leave you enough time to get to Portland?” 

“Yeah, it should. I’ll have to change my plans a bit, but it’ll be okay. Only, Emma, what about the person who emptied my tank—” 

Emma set her jaw as she pulled into the gas station. “I’ll take care of it.” 

—

Thursday morning found her in Granny’s early, marching up to the counter with her fists planted on her hips. 

“I could arrest you, you know. I probably should.” 

“What?” Ruby blinked innocent eyes as she prepared Emma’s coffee, with plenty of milk and extra cinnamon and hazelnut syrups. “What did I do?” 

“Emptying a gas tank is stealing, Rubes. You’ve got to stop doing this stuff!” 

Ruby handed her the coffee, and a bag containing a fresh bear claw. Emma scowled at it as Ruby asked “Did it get you a date, at least?” 

“It did not. At least, not in this decade.” 

“Um.” Ruby frowned. “What?” 

“I already dated Graham.” Emma decided that while the bear claw was unmistakably a bribe she could always just eat the evidence, and took a big bite. 

“You did?” Ruby demanded. “When?” 

“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” muttered Emma around her mouthful of pastry and nuts. “It wasn’t long after I moved to Storybrooke. Just before he decided to ‘escape the cage of civilisation’ and moved out to the middle of nowhere.” 

“Wait, wait. It’s coming back to me now. Are you saying that Graham is Mountain Lodge Guy?” 

“Yep.” 

“Fuuuuck Ems, I’m sorry.” To her credit, Ruby did look genuinely apologetic. 

“Well you should be,” retorted Emma, hardening her heart. “And you should stop doing this, Ruby! It’s getting ridiculous. I mean, it was always ridiculous but now it’s branching into minor-felony-level ridiculous. Please, I am begging you, stop.” 

“Ah,” said Ruby, biting her lip. “Um, can I stop tomorrow?” 

Emma’ blood ran cold. “Why?”

“I—may have already put the next plan into motion.” 

“What? What plan?” Emma demanded, just as her phone started ringing. 

Ruby grimaced. “Let’s just say you’d probably better answer that.” 

—

Emma took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before knocking firmly on the door of a large, sprawling house on the edge of town. It swung open immediately to reveal a man wearing a frantic expression, his dark hair standing up on end. 

“Oh, thank God!” he cried, falling to his knees. “Thank God.” The dog at the end of the leash Emma had looped around her hand wriggled in delight as he licked the man’s face. The man hugged the dog tightly, laughing as his cheeks was thoroughly washed. “How’d you find him?” he asked. 

Emma watched the reunion with a reluctant smile. “I had a tip,” she replied wryly. “Someone spotted him in the street and managed to grab him. They let the sheriff’s department know, and we cross-checked his description with reports of missing dogs.” Or at least that’s what she would have done had the dog actually been missing, and not lured into the backseat of a car by Ruby armed with a juicy steak. The dog had spent the morning in the storage room of the diner, gnawing happily at the bone for an hour before taking a long nap on a cosy blanket. And now he was home again, unharmed and with a belly full of steak. All in all not a bad morning for him, Emma reflected, though she felt sorry for his owner. 

The owner who was now rising to his feet and eyeing Emma with the eye of a man who, reassured of his beloved pet’s safety, could turn his attention to other matters. 

“I’m August,” he said, offering his hand. “August Booth.” 

Emma knew this of course, because Ruby had told her, but she took his hand anyway. “Emma Swan.” 

“Emma,” August repeated. “I’ve seen you around, obviously, but—well it’s nice to finally meet you. Can I offer you a drink or anything?” 

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m on duty and I really should get back to it.” 

“Of course.” He gave her a hopeful smile, as the dog bounced cheerfully at his side. “Another time, maybe?” 

“Ah, maybe.” Emma’s own smile was noncommittal. “Have a nice day.” 

“You too. Emma.” 

__

Emma got home that evening to find Henry with a huge grin on his face and an A on his solar system project. 

“Look, Mom!” he cried, waving the paper at her. “Mr Johnson said it was one of the best projects he’s ever seen!” 

“Wow, that’s great, Henry!” Emma took the paper and examined it with a beam of pride. “Well done!” 

“I can’t wait to tell Killian.’ Henry was bouncing on his heels. “Can we call him? Maybe he can come over again!” 

“Um, it’s a bit late to invite him over now,” Emma hedged. The truth was that she’d been looking for an excuse to text Killian since he’d left her place on Tuesday night, but was also not sure he’d want her bothering him. “But you can tell him tomorrow.” 

“Is he coming over tomorrow?” 

“Um, yeah. We’re going out.” 

“Out?” Henry’s eyes went wide. “Like on a date?” 

“Yeah. Is that okay?” 

“Mom, you don’t need to ask me if you want to date someone. It’s your life.” 

Emma shook her head, lips pressing together in a bittersweet smile. Sometimes her little baby boy seemed so grown up. It had been happening more and more often lately and though she loved to see it, it also gave her an aching twinge in her heart. 

“But you’re the most important thing in my life,” she said firmly, “and I’m not going to date someone you don’t like.” 

“Well, I like Killian. So as far as I’m concerned, date away.” 

She laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “So you can wait until tomorrow to tell him about your project?” 

Henry heaved a great sigh, though his eyes were laughing. “I suppose.” 

—

Henry may have been able to wait, but Emma found she couldn’t. Barely two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner and Henry had settled down to do his homework, Emma found her fingers typing out a text to Killian without her permission, and sending it before her brain had a chance to object. 

Emma: Henry got an A on his solar system project. 

She held her breath after she clicked send, nerves fluttering in her belly. But it was barely a minute before three dots appeared below her message and then Killian’s reply. 

Killian: That’s brilliant! Tell him I said well done. 

Emma heaved a breath and felt her lips curve in a silly grin. I think he’d rather tell you himself, she texted back. I was just too excited to wait. 

The reply came almost immediately. Your secret is safe with me, love, it said. I’ll pretend it’s the first I’m hearing of the news. 

The silly smile was still on Emma’s face as she tried to think of a way to extend the conversation. Before she could come up with anything the three dots appeared again followed shortly by a message. 

Killian: How was your day, Swan? Any exciting crime on the mean streets of Storybrooke?

Emma’s cheeks began to hurt as her grin widened further, and she settled in to regale Killian with the story of the dog, minus a few key details of course. When she finished he told her about a frustrating patron he’d had, who was looking for a very particular book but could not remember its title or author, or in fact any details about its plot or characters. All he could recall was that it had red on its cover. 

Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, did not much narrow things down, Killian remarked. 

The conversation drifted then onto other topics, flowing so easily that before Emma knew it they had been texting for three hours. When she finally got to bed that night—an hour later than usual—she drifted off with a smile still on her face, thinking of him and of their date the next day. 

—

Wear something warm, Killian had said, and so late on Friday afternoon Emma changed out of the thin blouse she’d worn all day and into a sweater. A new sweater, one she’d bought on an impromptu trip to the boutique that morning. It would be winter soon, she’d reasoned, and she could always use another warm layer. It was definitely not because the sweater was a pretty shade of rose pink that complimented her complexion and made her feel soft and feminine, or because its slim fit hugged her breasts in a very flattering way. 

Not at all. 

She finished the look with dark jeans and a brown leather jacket with a sheepskin trim and headed out into the living room, ten minutes early. 

Henry was watching TV but when she came into the room he looked up and his eyes widened. “You look awesome, Mom!” he said. 

“Thanks, kid.” Emma rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying here by yourself?” she asked Henry, who rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I have your number and Killian’s number and the hospital’s number and Mary Margaret’s number. Mary Margaret is just upstairs if I need her and she’ll come in to check on me at bedtime and make sure I’m not throwing any wild parties.” He gave Emma a sardonic look and she couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Dinner’s in the fridge,” Henry continued, “I’m supposed to do my homework so it’s done for the weekend then I can play video games, and you’ll be home by midnight. Did I forget anything?” 

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. “No, I think that covers it.” 

He got up from the couch and gave her a hug. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just for a few hours.” 

Emma nodded, squeezing him tightly. “I know.” He was still her baby, though, and it was a mother’s prerogative to worry. 

Henry seemed to sense her mood because he gave her a cheeky grin. “Be sure you’re home on time, though, or else I might turn into a pumpkin,” he teased.  

She laughed. “I promise.” 

Just then the doorbell rang, sending Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. She took a deep breath and then another as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothes. Henry smirked at her and went to open the door. “Hey, Killian!” he greeted. 

“Hello, Henry,” Killian replied, and God, Emma thought, his voice was even sexier than she remembered. “How are you?” 

“Good,” said Henry brightly. “I got an A on my solar system project!” 

“That’s brilliant, lad!” said Killian, catching Emma’s eye and giving her a wink. Probably the least stealthy wink she’d ever seen, more of a full-face twitch. 

Fortunately, Henry was too busy grinning with delight to notice. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.  

“It was my pleasure.” Killian smiled at Henry but his eyes kept flitting to where Emma was standing behind him, hands clasped and trying not to twist them nervously. “Swan,” he said, transferring his smile to her. “You look lovely.” 

“Thanks.” Emma flushed at the compliment and searched for the right words to return it. Killian was dressed in a sweater as well, a thick fisherman’s one in a deep blue shade that brought out his eyes. “You look...” Hot. Gorgeous. Highly fuckab—gah. No. She shook that thought from her head. “…um…” 

He shot her a small smirk, one that said he knew what she was thinking, even as his cheeks went pink. “I know,” he said.  

She rolled her eyes. Of course he did. 

They stood grinning foolishly at each other until Henry gave a loud cough. 

“Ah.” Killian scratched behind his ear, the flush in his cheeks deepening. “Are you ready then, love?” he asked. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Henry, are you—” 

“Mom.” Henry gave her a stern look. “I’m fine. Go.” 

“All right, all right,” she sighed. “I’m going.” 

She allowed Killian to guide her out the door and down the stairs with a hand hovering just over the small of her back. From another man such a gesture would have felt controlling but from him it just seemed sweet—old-fashioned, like the way he spoke and the general air of courteousness he carried.  

“Where are we going?” she asked, when they exited her building and turned down the sidewalk. 

He smiled, soft and a bit nervous. “You’ll see.” 

They chatted lightly as they walked, conversation made easier by all they had shared in the texting marathon of the previous evening, and when they arrived at the docks a good twenty minutes later Emma felt as though no time had passed at all. 

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around in confusion. 

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Briefly she wondered at how easily she trusted this man she hardly knew, she who almost never trusted anyone, and then he led her up a gangplank and onto a long wooden sailing boat and she forgot everything else in her astonishment. 

“This is yours?” she exclaimed.

“Aye,” said Killian with a small shrug. “You can take the lad off the sea but you can’t take the sea out of the lad. Or something.” 

Emma laughed. “You bought this after you left the navy?” 

“I did,” he replied. “Lived on board for a few months. I was going to stay on her while I was in Storybrooke but Belle said that was ridiculous when there was an empty apartment above the library, so…” 

“Yeah. And doesn’t it get cold at night? On the boat I mean.” 

“I have blankets. And rum.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “But yes, the apartment is much more congenial as a place to sleep, so I’m grateful for it.” 

On the boat’s deck a blanket was spread out, with a pile of cushions on one side and a small camp stove on the other. “I thought we could make grilled cheese,” Killian explained. “Henry, ah, told me it was your favourite. And everything tastes better under the stars.” 

Emma felt a lump rising in her throat. “There—there aren’t any stars,” she said. 

Killian smiled at her. “Not yet.” 

She made herself comfortable on the blanket while Killian produced a leather satchel, from which he removed plates and napkins, bread and butter, and a dizzying array of cheeses. 

Emma gaped as he lined them up in front of the stove. “I usually just use the kind that comes in pre-wrapped slices,” she said. 

“Aye, I have some of that.” he replied, holding up a small, square parcel. “Though I thought, maybe, if you were in the mood for it, that you, ah—might be up for trying something new?” 

His expression was so hopeful, so open, and she knew that he wasn’t just talking about the cheese. He meant the way she’d been living, closed-off and untrusting. Alone. He was asking her to let him in, and God, Emma thought, she wanted to. 

“I—yeah.” She swallowed hard, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “I’d like that. But, I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea which one.” 

Killian laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her inside and out. “Try the gouda,” he advised. 

“I don’t even know what that is,” she said, laughing with him. 

The warm smile remained on his lips but there was something deeply solemn in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked. 

Emma swallowed again. “Yeah,” she replied, and it was true. She really did. 

Killian nodded. “Gouda,” he said firmly. 

She nodded back. “Okay.” 

—

The gouda turned out to be delicious, melting into the kind of stringy, gloopy mess that had Emma’s eyes rolling back in her head with delight. Its flavour was mild, almost nutty, and absolutely delicious—way better, she was sure, than the soft, smelly stuff Killian put on his bread. 

“This is amazing,” she said around a mouthful of melted cheese. “That, on the other hand…” 

He chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.” 

“I’m sure. So... why exactly did you acquire it?” 

An odd look crossed Killian’s face. “Sometimes you eat what’s put in front of you, love, and learn to like it later,” he said, in a voice grim with not entirely pleasant memories. “I’ve been in places where to refuse the food would be a grave insult, and a grave insult could result in... well, let’s just call them unpleasant consequences.” 

“Wow.” 

He gave shrug and an offhand smile. “I mean, not to be dramatic or anything.” 

“Oh no, obviously not.” She munched her cheese, trying to think of a lighter topic. “So, um, what made you become a librarian? No offence but you don’t really seem the type.” 

“No, probably not.” His smile warmed and softened and Emma felt herself relax. “I wanted a quiet life after the navy and I’ve always loved books, so it seemed like a natural choice.” 

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.” 

“It’s been healing,” he said softly. “In more ways than one.” He was silent for a moment, then turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. “And what about you, Emma, what brought you into law enforcement?” he asked. 

“What don’t I seem like the type?” 

“On the contrary, it seems a perfect fit for you. I’d just—like to know you better.” 

Emma felt a flush rise in her cheeks as her heartbeat quickened. “I was in bail bonds before I came to Storybrooke, but there’s not much need for that here so I sort of fell into sheriffing,” she explained. “I didn’t even intend to move here, I was just passing through. But I had car trouble and got stuck for a while, then the job opened up and I just—stayed.” 

“It’s a good place to stay,” Killian remarked. 

“Yeah. Way better than where we were living in the city. Henry was really little when we moved and I’m glad he’s growing up in a place like this.” 

“Aye, it seems an ideal spot to raise a child.” 

There was a wistfulness in his voice that made her heart thump harder. “I just realised I never asked you where you live,” she said. 

“Ah.” He scratched behind his ear again. “That is a question. I’ve been in Boston for the past few years but I’m starting to think I need a change. One of the reasons I was glad for this break in Storybrooke.” 

Emma focused on keeping her breathing steady. “Where do you think you might go?” she asked. 

“I might”—he shot her a mildly wary glance—“stay here.” 

“Here? As in Storybrooke here?” 

“Aye. There’s a job opening up next year at the high school library that I’ve applied for.” 

“I—” She blinked in surprise. “Wow.” 

“I hope it doesn’t freak you out, love,” said Killian, stumbling over his words in his haste to speak them. “It wasn’t because of—well, it isn’t as though you aren’t a factor, but mostly I just—” 

“You could see a future here.” Emma nodded. “Hey, I get it. Same.” 

He visibly relaxed, expelling a long breath before continuing. “I actually put in the application before we met,” he explained. “About fifteen minutes before, in fact. But I’d be lying if I said the prospect of staying here didn’t grow considerably brighter when I realised there was a chance you could be part of that future.” His eyes widened when he realised what he’d said. “I mean, I—” 

“Yeah.” Emma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know what you mean.” 

Dusk had fallen by that time, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky. Killian quickly tidied up the plates and utensils and cheese, then produced from his seemingly bottomless satchel a thermos full of hot chocolate. 

“Mmmm,” said Emma, “that smells amazing. Though I usually have mine with some—”

“Cinnamon?” Killian grinned at her as he held up a small jar of the spice. “Aye.” 

“Henry told you,” guessed Emma. 

“That he did.” 

“When did you have time to mine my son for information about me?” she teased him. 

“We had some quite interesting conversation in between discussions of moons and planets,” he informed her. “It’s a truly wonderful boy you have, love.” 

“Yeah,” she agreed, accepting the steaming cup he offered her. “He really is.” 

Cradling their cups of chocolate, they relaxed back against the pillows and gazed up at the darkening sky. As the stars grew brighter Killian showed her some constellations, pointing to them with one hand while the other lay next to hers on the blanket, close enough that she could brush his little finger with her own. She slid her hand closer and let her fingers curl around his, and when he turned his hand to grip hers more firmly she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder as they sipped their chocolate, looked up at the sky, and talked. They talked about everything, likes and dislikes, pastimes and pet hates. Their childhoods and their dreams for the future, their hopes and their fears. She told him, haltingly, about Neal, and he replied with the story of his affair with a married woman, which had led to him leaving the navy. For two such different people they had a surprising amount in common, she realised. Not so much in the specifics of their lives as in the way they looked at the world, and the experiences that had shaped them. Emma had never in her life felt so understood. 

All too soon her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her that it was almost midnight and she had promised Henry she’d be back before then. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “Henry—” 

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll walk with you.” 

He kept her hand in his as they stood and headed back to her apartment, twining his fingers with hers and brushing his thumb feather-light across her knuckles, setting her heart racing in her chest. His hand was warm and rough and the gentle movements of his thumb sent sparks dancing up her arm and all across her skin. 

When they reached her door she turned with a smile, still holding tight to his fingers, loath to break the contact until she absolutely had to. 

“I had a wonderful time,” she said. “We should do this again.” 

His own smile lit his face, stealing her breath as it always did. “Any time, love,” he murmured. “Perhaps next time we can go for a sail.” 

“I’d love that.” 

His eyes were soft as they caressed her face and she found herself holding her breath as they swayed in each other’s orbit, easing closer and closer, and then closer still until she felt his fingertips brushing across her cheek, until he cradled her jaw in his palm and their lips met. 

The kiss began gently, tentatively—sweet brushes of lips and sighs of breaths that soon grew deeper, hotter, more insistent as the hands they still held gripped tighter, as his fingers left her cheek to tangle in her hair and hers fisted in his sweater to pull him closer. A deep groan rumbled in his chest and Emma felt herself pushed back against the door, his lips insistent now, his tongue hot in her mouth and his body firm against hers. She released his sweater to curl her arm around his neck and hold him tight, pressing herself as close as she could get, rolling her hips over the hardness she could feel low against her belly. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way, if she ever had. Like she couldn’t get enough of him—his feel and smell and taste—like she wanted to tear off his clothes and have him right here, and damn the consequences. But also she felt safe, secure in the certainty that while he clearly wanted her just as much, once the kiss ended he would say goodnight and go, no pressure, no demands, no resentment. She was certain of this because she trusted him, and the inherent decency she’d sensed in him from the beginning.  That kind of trust was freeing, she realised in a bright and stunning flash of understanding. Wonderfully freeing, to let down her defences and put herself into the hands of another person, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage or use that trust to hurt her. Her heart soared as she hugged Killian tighter and kissed him with everything she had, and when the kiss finally ended and he rested his forehead against hers, all she felt was happiness and the stirrings, deep in her heart, of a far stronger emotion. 

“That was—” he gasped, blinking dazed eyes and clearly struggling for words. 

“Amazing?” she supplied. “Incredible? Hot as fuck?”

He gave a breathless chuckle. “One hell of a goodnight kiss. Plus yeah, all those other things.” 

He pressed another kiss on her lips, brief and chaste and gentle, then released her and stepped back. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said. 

Emma tried not to feel bereft at the loss of his warmth and closeness. “Maybe you could come over for dinner,” she said. “I mean, if you’re not busy. It’s just Henry would love to see you, and—” 

“I’d love that,” he said, gently interrupting her before her stream of words could get out of control. “Let me know what I can bring. Not brownies this time.” 

His eyes twinkled with amusement and she gave a slight wince. “Was it that obvious?” 

“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Emma, but you’re a bit of an open book,” he replied. “One I’d very much like to read more of.” 

“I—I’d like that too,” she said softly. “And my favourite dessert is lemon bars.” 

“Lemon bars I can manage.” He smiled, a bit wistfully but with a new light in his eyes that made her feel like she could fly. “Goodnight, Emma,” he murmured. 

“Night, Killian.” 

She watched him until he disappeared around the bend in the stairs then slipped into her apartment, shutting the door silently behind her and leaning against for a moment. She closed her eyes and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, then gave herself a little shake and took off her jacket and shoes before padding silently into Henry’s room. He was fast asleep, with the blankets kicked off and bunched around his waist. She pulled them down and tucked them in around him. 

“Mom?” he muttered. 

“Yeah, kid. I’m home,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.” 

Henry blinked heavy eyelids. “Did you have a good time?” 

“I did. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep.” 

“K,” he replied, and in his next breath she could tell he was asleep again. 

—

The next morning Emma dropped Henry off at a friend’s house and went to Granny’s for some coffee. Ruby greeted her with a scowl. 

“You here alone?” she demanded.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I am.” 

“August another no-go, then?” 

“I have to admit, he was closer than the others,” Emma conceded. “Probably your best attempt yet.” 

“But not good enough?” 

“Nope. Not good enough.” Perhaps once there may have been a time when someone like August would have caught Emma’s eye. Before Neal. Even, possibly, before she’d met Killian. But now...

Ruby planted a fist on her hip and shook her finger at Emma’s nose. “I’ll get you, Emma Swan,” she declared. “Sooner or later, come hell or high water, I will find the man for you. I swear it.” 

“Ruby—” 

“Nope.” The shaking finger became a palm in Emma’s face, which she irritatedly pushed aside. “I know you don’t approve of my tactics,” Ruby continued, “but the gauntlet’s been thrown down. My honour is at stake.” 

“Your honour? Seriously?” 

“Yes, seriously! I’m going to find you a guy or die trying, and that’s just how things are. Now, here’s your coffee.” She thrust a takeaway cup into Emma’s hand and Emma sighed heavily, watching Ruby through narrowed eyes as she handed another cup to another customer, before finally taking a long sip. 

It was a minute before her brain registered the taste of what was in her mouth and then she spit the coffee out with a choking gasp. 

“What the fuck is this?” 

“Coffee,” said Ruby, who was standing ready with a pile of paper napkins. She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why, is there something wrong with it?”

Just then Emma heard the sound of vigorous coughing and a very familiar voice spoke up from behind her. 

“Excuse me, lass, but I think you may have given me the wrong drink,” it said.

“Oh did I?” cried Ruby. “I am so sorry! What seems to be the problem with it?” 

“Well, it’s, er, very sweet.” 

Emma sighed and turned around to face Killian. His face brightened in surprise and pleasure but she spoke before he could greet her. “I think you must have mine,” she said. “You take it black?” 

“Aye.” 

“Here.” She held out the cup she was holding. “This one’s yours.” 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes this yours.” 

They exchanged cups and smiles, Killian’s bright but confused and Emma’s resigned, especially when their fingers brushed and her heart began to race. 

“Wow,” said Ruby loudly, “what a funny mix-up. You two should definitely get each other’s names, in case it happens again.” 

Killian opened his mouth to reply but Emma gave a tiny shake of her head and he closed it again, his forehead wrinkling with a baffled frown. Emma turned to Ruby. 

“All right,” she hissed. “You win. 

“I—what?” 

“I like this one. I’ll take him. Congratulations, you did it.” 

Ruby looked genuinely nonplussed. “Are you serious?” 

“Yep.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

“No catch.” 

“Well I am a bit of a catch,” piped up Killian, who was watching the exchange with amusement and dawning understanding.

Ruby’s eyes flitted between them, narrowed in suspicion. “Emma Swan,” she growled, “if you’re fucking with me…” 

“I’m not! Honestly. Here, look, I’ll prove it.” 

She set her cup down on the counter and turned back to Killian, watching his eyes go wide and the smirk fall from his face as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Dimly she heard the sound of Ruby’s gasp and of Killian’s coffee cup hitting the floor, but then his arms were around her and he was sighing against her lips and all Emma could think was that what she’d told Ruby just now was true. She did like this one, and she damned well would take him. For the first time in far too long Emma truly and honestly envisioned what her life could be with a man in it, a partner to share it with, and found that the prospect didn’t scare her. She was excited for it. She wanted it. She wanted Killian. 

For all its heat and passion he kiss ended softly, and she smiled up at Killian, still clinging to his jacket, pressing her forehead to his. He grinned back, delighted if slightly dazed. “That was rather forward of you, lass, considering we only just met,” he said, deadpan. “But I can’t say as I object.” 

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “What do you say we take our coffee somewhere quiet and get to know each other a bit better?” 

“I’d say that’s an excellent plan. But as to the coffee, well—” He indicated the steaming puddle at their feet.

“Here you go,” said Ruby, and they both turned to see her holding out a fresh cup. “On the house.” 

Killian shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Look, anyone who gets a kiss like that off Emma is going to need it,” said Ruby firmly. She raised an eyebrow at each of them in turn. “There’s something going on here that I don’t know about, and rest assured I will find out what it is,” she informed them. “But for now take your coffee and go. You two are distractingly hot together and I have other customers.” 

“Well if you’re—” 

“I said go!” Ruby glared until Killian took the cup from her. “Enjoy. Oh, and Emma—” 

“Yeah?” 

“Call me later.” Ruby tapped a sharp-looking fingernail meaningfully on the countertop. “Or else.” 

—

@kmomof4, @stahlop, @spartanguard​, @mariakov81, @teamhook 

[quintessenceofdust73]

Colleen had spent the last several minutes arranging the small, brightly wrapped packages on the dining table in the Holts’ private suite onboard the Atlas. This wasn’t exactly where she expected to celebrate her daughter’s eighteenth birthday. Colleen never could have imagined that her youngest child would have been fighting in an intergalactic war at such an age, or that Colleen herself would be out in space with the rest of their little family instead of planning a quiet little party at their home.

She placed the smallest of the packages on top of the stack of colorful boxes. It was wrapped in bright blue paper and tied with a green ribbon. Curious, Colleen glanced at the card. It read “With Love, From Lance.” She smiled to herself, wondering what the gift could be. She knew Katie loved all of the other Paladins like older siblings, but with Lance things has been different. She always sat close to him at meetings and at mealtimes. She blushed when Lance complimented her and pouted when her father set a curfew on her late night video gaming sessions with him. ”Leave the door to your quarters open when that boy is here,” her husband had insisted.

Boy? She thought. No, he was a young man, Lance was nearly twenty, and was of an age to have a more serious view of dating and relationships.

More than once Colleen had noticed that Lance had casually slipped one of his long arms around her daughter’s slight shoulders when the Paladins gathered with her family to have a movie night. She also noticed that Katie wrapped her arms around Lance, clinging to him and affectionately nuzzling his chest, a gesture that always made him smile and draw her even closer to him.

Colleen had always thought they were cute together and had hoped for the longest time that their friendship would blossom into something more. She smiled at the recollection of how Lance had won a stuffed Green Lion for her when they went to the Clear Day carnival together. Katie cuddled with it every night, falling asleep with it in her arms.

Sam, on the other hand, wondered what his daughter saw in the boy.

“He’s not as smart as Hunk,” Sam had observed after Katie had gone to bed one evening. “Why would she like a boy who isn’t even close to being her intellectual equal?”

“Shh! She’ll hear you,” Colleen whispered.

”She’s asleep,” Sam replied. “I still think that she and Hunk would make a good match though. He’s a very bright young man—“

“Who’s in love with a very sweet Balmeran girl,” Colleen reminded him. “Katie has told me things about Lance. Did you know that he nearly got himself killed while saving Coran from an explosion? Lance was practically comatose from his injuries, but he woke up momentarily just to take a shot at Sendak when he was trying to hurt our daughter. Did you know about that?” Sam shook his head. “Did she tell you what Lance did when they were captured by Galra Pirates? Those fiends wanted to torture our child, but Lance wouldn’t allow them to come anywhere near her, so they gave him a good thrashing instead.” Colleen stood with her hands on her hips, as if daring Sam criticize Lance for his heroics.

”No,” Sam paused to consider this new information. “She didn’t tell me about any of that.” He didn’t comment on their daughter’s choice of boyfriends any further, but Colleen was still half-convinced that Sam still believed that no one was good enough for their little girl. Not wanting an argument, Sam changed the subject to what Matt had been doing on his latest missions with the Rebels.

Their son was, at the moment, far away from this sector, fighting in a battle in a distant solar system whose name Colleen couldn’t even pronounce.

So much of their time together as a family had been cut short by the apparent tragedy that had befallen Sam and Matt on the Kerberos mission. The grief she experienced at their mysterious disappearance consumed her, then was multiplied when Katie ran away from home to join the Garrison under a false identity. She later found out that her daughter and her friends had been abducted by a sentient spaceship and taken through a wormhole to the other end of the universe. Her only daughter was lost among the stars for three years, and when Katie finally returned home, Colleen could barely recognize her. Her long hair was shorn, her beauty concealed by the disguise of her brother’s old round spectacles. Most shocking of all, she was clad in the hard shell of some high-tech armored alien spacesuit. Although she had returned home physically unharmed, Colleen knew her the little girl she had raised was gone forever.

Every time she watched Katie fall asleep in her narrow bunk, she could momentarily forget that her daughter was a confident young woman who was, among other things, a Paladin, a scientist, and a veteran of far too many battles in the endless war that had been tearing the universe apart centuries before she had been born. Losing this war might mean the end of humanity’s freedom and possibly its very existence. Of course, they weren’t just fighting for Earth’s freedom, but for the liberation of all of the sentient beings that the Galra Empire had enslaved over the last ten thousand years. Defeating Honerva was all any of them could think about these days.

And here she was, making preparations for her youngest child’s birthday party. Colleen sat down at the table and covered her mouth to stifle a sob. But there was no one around to hear it. Sam and Katie had already departed for the mission briefing. She let the tears flow only when she was alone. Then, in order to face the day, she straightened her uniform and donned the steely facade of the brave officer and loyal crew member that she had to present herself as. She wiped the corners of her eyes and hastily departed for the main conference chamber.

As Colleen strode through the metallic corridors of the Atlas, her mind wandered, sorting through data she had gathered in recent days: inventories, reports, results of experiments, news of distant battles fought, and of crew members’ gossip. She recalled that Keith had been with Allura when she finally awoke from her mysterious coma. Not long after that, the Princess had declared that she knew exactly what they must do to end the war. Colleen had seen the two of them walking hand-in-hand after supper last night. The princess looked depressed and Keith looked as if he had not slept in days. They had called a private meeting with Hunk, Lance, and Katie late last evening, and when her daughter finally returned to the Holt family’s quarters, her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying. She hugged Lance and Hunk in the corridor before they departed for their own quarters. As Colleen expected, her daughter lingered in Lance’s arms the longest. The two of them looked at each other sadly, as if there was much left unspoken between them. Hunk had dropped off a shopping tote containing wrapped birthday gifts from himself, Lance, Keith, and Allura, smiling as if nothing were wrong. He acted as if it was perfectly normal to make plans to celebrate the birthday one of his best friends in the middle of a war that might just tear the cosmos apart. Hunk’s friendly smile was the reassuring mask that he wore, but Colleen could see the fear, worry, and terrible sorrow in his eyes. What had Keith and Allura told them?

“It’s past your bedtime, young lady,” chided Sam from inside their suite.

“Dad, I’m almost eighteen! I don’t need a curfew anymore,” her daughter said, but she didn’t have the energy to argue with her parents any more than that.

Lance cupped her chin, tilting her face upward so that her gaze could meet his. “Listen to your father, Pidge. And try to get some sleep, okay?” He kissed the top of her head. “I love you,” he added in a low voice, the color rising in his cheeks. He looked as if he was holding back tears. “I love you so much.” His voice cracked the second time he said those words aloud.

“I love you, too,” she said, her watery gaze locked with his once more.

“Whoa!” Said Hunk. “Is this a thing that you two say to one another now?”

Pidge’s right hand was behind Lance’s neck. She stood on tiptoe and guided his face towards her own. They kissed briefly, just a quick peck on the lips, but Sam saw it as an act of defiance.

Sam cleared his throat. “Katie—“ he began.

She ignored her father and moved to kiss Lance again. This time she ruffled his hair as she pressed her lips to his. It was a prolonged, lingering kiss that became more passionate the longer they embraced.

Colleen chuckled. “Sam, leave them alone!” Embarrassed, she turned her glance towards the Yellow Paladin, who looked as uncomfortable as she felt. “Goodnight, Hunk, dear. And thank you for dropping off the birthday gifts.” She closed the door, leaving her daughter and her friends in the corridor.

The door swished open several minutes later, and Katie was soon inside, blushing but still looking triumphant. Colleen heard Lance grumbling to Hunk, “There’s just no privacy on this ship!” as they walked towards their quarters down the corridor. The door slid closed behind her.

“The birthday girl had to finish kissing her boyfriend goodnight,” Katie announced with an impish grin to mask her sorrow.

“You still have a curfew young lady. You’re not eighteen yet,” Sam argued.

Katie glanced the chronometer on the wall. “Actually I am. It’s after midnight, Dad.” She walked over to her father’s chair and hugged him. “Goodnight.” she kissed Sam’s forehead. “And stop worrying. Lance is a really great guy.”

“We know he is, sweetheart,” Colleen agreed. Katie hugged her mother where she stood. “Happy birthday, dear.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek.

“Thanks, Mom.” Katie walked towards her tiny, private bedroom in their suite. “I love you guys.” And she blinked back tears before disappearing into her room without any further explanation of why she had been up so late with the other Paladins or what Allura might have told them that had all of them so visibly upset.

In the brightly lit corridor, Colleen shook her head almost imperceptibly as if to clear her mind of too many memories and needless worry. She entered the main conference room. Shiro, Coran, Romelle, Slav, Veronica, Sam, and all five of the Paladins were present in the elite group that Iverson had assembled. She sat in the vacant chair next to her husband as she always did. Sam reached for her hand beneath the conference table, and gently squeezed it to comfort her. She smiled at him, then tried to focus on the presentation.

Iverson droned on about fleet locations and coalition battle plans for a quarter of an hour as Sam held her hand. The Paladins were seated directly across the table from her. Katie swiped the screen of her tablet with the index finger of her right hand a few times as she listened, and Lance, she noted, sipped his morning coffee with his left hand, which was unusual for him. Colleen was almost certain that the team’s sharpshooter was right-handed. That’s when she realized where Lance’s right hand had been all of this time. It was under the table caressing her daughter’s left hand. They gave themselves away when Lance squeezed Katie’s hand and she looked up from her data screen to give him a little smile.

Colleen didn’t know that the room was about to explode when Keith stood up to brief everyone on Voltron’s next mission.

*****

Veronica, whose analytical mind had reached the same conclusion as Colleen and Sam, exclaimed, “It’s a suicide mission!”

“It’s too dangerous!” Coran exclaimed. “We can’t allow it!” He was so angry that he was nearly sobbing.

“If I were still the Black Paladin, I would never allow the team to do this,” said Shiro sternly, trying to keep his temper in check. “Keith, you must reconsider this course of action.”

“This is the only course of action because it’s the only path that leads to victory. And let me remind you that you’re not the Black Paladin anymore, Shiro. I am,” Keith said coldly.

Shiro glared at him across the conference table, clearly stung by his words. “I’m still the captain of this ship and ultimately I am the one who is responsible for my crew and the mission. I forbid you to——“

“You only command this ship, but I am the commander of Voltron. The team supports my decision. There’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

“Is this true?” Coran asked. He looked at the other Paladins. “Surely you don’t support this madness!”

“Katie can’t go on this mission!” Colleen interjected in a tearful voice. “She’s too young!”

“We’re her parents. We forbid it!” Sam added. His face was red with fury.

“Mom, Dad, I love you very much, but I am an adult now, and you don’t speak for me anymore,” Katie said gently as she stood up. “I speak for myself, and I support Keith’s decision.”

“But don’t you understand? There’s no way back to our reality if you go through the rift to seal it from inside.” Veronica’s face was wet with tears. “Lance, please talk some sense into them!”

Lance’s expression was grim, and his uncharacteristic seriousness frightened Veronica a little. He gave his sister an apologetic look before he spoke. “I’m sorry, everyone, but I believe Keith is right.” Lance stood up. “We were chosen for this mission the day we became Paladins. Whatever skills we have as warriors and pilots—“ he looked at Keith and Shiro, who were still glaring at each other—“or with engineering, technology, or quintessence,” he said as he glanced at Hunk, Pidge, and then finally Allura, “those abilities were not the reason why we were chosen. The lions chose us because of what kind of people we are. I know this because they chose me, and I’m not a great warrior, or a genius, or an alchemist, but they still chose me.” Keith and Katie both gaped at Lance in astonishment, and Allura nodded, her eyes shining. “I think they chose each of us because of the sacrifices that we are willing to make.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes, attempting to hold back tears.

Colleen saw that her daughter had been trying very hard to keep her emotions in check as well, but when Lance was finished speaking she released an involuntary sob. Katie turned her face away from her parents and towards the front of Lance’s uniform coat to hide her tears from everyone. Lance hid his tear-streaked face in her hair as he held her close.

Hunk stood up. “Lance is right. Most of us were just scared kids when we were chosen, but somehow the lions knew exactly what kind of people we would grow up to be. I’m standing in support of Keith’s decision. You guys are just trying to stop us because you love us, and I totally get that, but this is war, and in war sometimes people you love have to— have to—“ Hunk broke down at this point and began to sob uncontrollably. Lance and then Pidge turned to look at Hunk as soon as they heard his broken sobs, and they both moved to embrace him as the three of them wept together.

“Keith, I know you mean well, but there must be another way,” Shiro said quietly. “I’ve been in your position before. I know what you’re willing to sacrifice, but—“

“This is the only way, Shiro, and you know it. We both have been in situations where we were ready to sacrifice ourselves for the team, but you haven’t ever been in the position that I’m in now. I have to sacrifice my friends to save everyone.” Keith’s already raspy voice was raw with emotion. “This isn’t a choice between victory or death. Our only path to victory is through death.” The look in Keith’s eyes was so tormented that Shiro could no longer bear to gaze upon him. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Keith bowed his head, desperately trying not to cry in front of everyone. Allura stood up then, not to speak, but to embrace Keith. His shoulders shook as he broke down in Allura’s arms.

“They are still just scared kids,” Coran observed quietly, his face damp and his expression filled with weariness and pain. It was when Coran spoke these words that Shiro finally lost his self-control: his bottom lip quivered as tears cascaded down his cheeks. His organic hand flew to cover his face as his metal hand formed an angry fist.

There was a sudden outcry of anger and grief from every corner of the room. It seemed that nearly everyone who wasn’t a Paladin was shouting simultaneously.

While Keith stepped into the shadows to try to regain his composure, Allura wiped her eyes and faced the chaos in front of her.

“My friends—“ she said softly. Apparently, no one heard her. “Dear friends—“ she began again.

“BE QUIET! THE PRINCESS IS SPEAKING!” Coran bellowed angrily. The room fell silent except for a few quiet sobs and sniffles.

Allura’s hands were shaking slightly. “My friends, there was an ancient saying among my people. It has been said that love shows us what we want, but war shows us who we are. I know that you all want what is best for the ones you love, but doom is upon us.” She paused so that all could consider the meaning of her words. “What Lonce said earlier was absolutely correct. These brave Paladins were chosen by the lions because of what is in their hearts. This selfless love is what gives each of them—each of us—“ she corrected, “the strength and the courage to do what we must, and that is to stop Honerva and seal the rift between the realities. It is the only way the multiverse can be saved. We must sacrifice Voltron.”

“But what about the Paladins? How will you ever get back home if the rift is sealed?” Romelle asked.

“There may not be a way back for us,” Allura admitted. “But if the Paladins go beyond the rift and face whatever is on the other side of it, we may be able to save this reality. It is true that if we embark on this mission, we may face oblivion, but if that happens, at least we will have each other at the end of all things. There is comfort in that.” She stood between Keith and Hunk, and she took the hand that each of them offered her. Beside her Hunk held Katie’s hand, and she, in turn, held Lance’s.

“We are united in this,” Keith remarked. “This is why we were chosen to be Paladins. This is our destiny.” There was a faint glow around the eyes of all five Paladins, and in the massive hangar where the five lions hibernated, each of the five metal beasts arose in turn and roared so loud the ship vibrated.

An eerie silence fell upon the Atlas in which no one dared to speak.

*****

Within the next three hours, the Paladins were in the hangar, saying goodbye to loved ones as Atlas crew members loaded survival gear, food, water, and other supplies into each lion’s cargo bay. No one could guess how long they would be gone or if they would ever return.

As Colleen walked alone through the busy hangar, several crew members stopped to salute her even though some of them outranked her. She noticed the black armbands they were wearing and tried not to cry. It wasn’t time for a funeral just yet, so why were they dressed for one? Sam and Katie had a huge argument when the briefing ended. When Slav suddenly whisked Sam away to their shared laboratory, her husband wouldn’t respond to comm calls from anyone, not even Shiro. They locked themselves in, and by the sound of it, the two of them were arguing in the lab as well.

When Sam had yelled at his daughter earlier, Katie yelled back at him, fiercely defending the decision that she and her friends had made. But it was Lance that she turned to when she wanted someone to hold her as she cried again, not her mother. Colleen hoped that she understood that her father’s anger was rooted in the love he had for his youngest child. Sam could not bear to lose her anymore than Colleen could. As brilliant as her husband could be, Sam’s judgement could be clouded by his personal feelings as much as her own. In a foolish act of desperation, Colleen had gone to the captain’s quarters to beg Shiro to lock the Paladins in the brig for disobeying his orders, but he refused. And when Colleen herself finally lost control of all of her emotions, yelling, crying, and knocking several small items off of Shiro’s desk, he didn’t call for security. He simply wrapped his arms around her and allowed her to grieve, insisting that he knew exactly how she felt.

When Colleen knelt on the floor of captain’s office to begin cleaning up the mess she made, she found a framed photo of Shiro and the younger Paladins that must have been taken during the first year that they had gone into space. Her daughter looked so tiny next to them, dressed in Matt’s old clothes and glasses. Keith was shorter and much slighter of build back then, and Lance was even slimmer. Hunk was plump and more round-faced than square-jawed. Now he was far more muscle than baby fat. She almost didn’t recognize Allura, who had her hair down and was wearing a soft, colorful gown which gave her the appearance of a fairy princess from a children’s tale. The only Allura Colleen had known was a fierce and regal woman, like an armored warrior queen or an avenging angel. That courageous young lady had lost her home, her family, her entire civilization, but not even the horrors of war had broken her spirit. She didn’t deserve to die. None of them did.

Colleen assumed that Coran must have been the one who took the photo of the young Paladins. The old Altean’s words came back to haunt her: they really had been just scared kids. All of them were so young, and so far from home. Colleen realized just how terrified they must have been. Then she noticed that the glass within the frame was cracked right down the middle, separating Keith from Shiro.

“I’m so sorry—“ she began as a new wave of grief overwhelmed her.

The memory of Shiro kneeling beside her to comfort her faded away to be replaced by the present reality.

Shiro stood in front of Black Lion with a strong hand resting on Keith’s shoulder. They spoke as men, as equals, with their deep, quiet voices, then embraced as brothers. Her vision blurred as she turned away from them and saw Coran and Romelle bidding Allura and Hunk farewell. All four of them were crying.

”I just wanted to see Shay one last time.” Hunk blubbered as Romelle hugged him and patted his back.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Coran told the princess, as he struggled to control his emotions.

“My father would have forbidden this, and if I defied him, he probably would have put me to sleep for another ten thousand years,” Allura said crossly. “I should not disrespect his memory, Coran, but I have not thought much about him lately. He never understood that if you truly love someone you have to respect them enough to let them make their own decisions.”

Coran nodded solemnly.

Allura placed a gentle hand upon Coran’s shoulder. “The one whom my father should be proud of is you. Ever since we lost Altea, you have been both father and mother to me.”

When the elderly Altean embraced the princess and wept with her, Colleen had to pause. Her vision was so blurred with her own tears that she could not see where she was going.

A little beyond where Hunk and the Alteans stood, Lance hugged his sister, who snapped to attention when they broke apart. They both gave Colleen an overly formal salute before Veronica angrily walked away. Lance wept unashamedly as his sister departed. Katie ducked under the arm he was saluting with and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, then he said, “Pidge, your Mom is here,” and he moved away from her a little.

Katie ran to her mother and threw her arms around her. “Mom—“ she began in a broken voice, hoarse from all of the crying she had done that day.

“My beautiful, brave girl! I love you so much. I love you so much,” Colleen repeated over and over like a mantra as she held her daughter and stroked her hair. No matter how many times she said it, it would never be enough.

“The docking bay must be cleared in fifteen minutes,” a voice over the public address system announced. “Lion pilots, prepare for launch at 1300 hours.”

There was the sound of booted feet dashing across the deck. “Katie! I hope I’m not too late,” Sam began. He was gasping for breath as if he had run all the way from his lab. “Take this. It’s very important.” He handed her a small device that resembled a key or perhaps a miniature portable hard drive.

“Dad! What—?” she began.

“You just plug that into Green Lion’s auxiliary system as soon as you start the launch sequence, and then you’ll understand. I’m sorry I lost my temper earlier.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I understand—“

“I love you, Katie, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“I love you too, Dad.” Sam hugged her, and Colleen smiled through her tears, relieved that father and daughter had been reconciled. They were so alike in how brilliant and how stubborn they both were. She was momentarily lost in thought when she was startled by a gentle hand upon her shoulder. Lance, she realized. She hugged him as if her were one of her own.

“Take care out there, young man. We want you to come back home to us, too.” She sniffled

Lance smiled at her. He was handsome in spite of how harried he looked. She noticed that his eyelids were a bit swollen and his hair even more disheveled than usual.

“Thanks, Mrs. Holt.”

Sam stepped forward. “You really do love my daughter, don’t you?” he asked.

“Yessir. I love her very much, sir.” Lance replied nervously. He always stood a little stiffer when Sam was near. He was clearly intimidated by him, and Colleen had to admit to herself that Sam and Matt had made things very difficult for Katie’s first and only boyfriend in the short amount of time that they had been dating.

“Then I won’t worry quite as much. I know you’ll be there to keep her safe,” Sam said, the tears in his eyes welling over to spill down his cheeks.

“Sir, even if we were the last two Paladins left standing, I would defend her with my life.” Lance’s voice cracked as he spoke, and he was once again crying unashamedly.

When Lance extended his hand, Sam took it only to pull him into a warm embrace. He patted the boy on the back, and then said quietly, “You were the first Paladin the Lions chose for the very same reason that you’re my daughter’s first choice, young man. The Lions, like my Katie, can see what’s in your heart.” He patted the chestplate of Lance’s armor right above his sternum then moved towards his daughter once more.

Katie sobbed loudly. “Dad—“ she began.

Sam hugged her tightly, then kissed his daughter’s forehead. “I love you, Katie, and I have never been more proud of you.” He closed her fingers over the small object that she held in her palm. “Don’t forget.”

“All non-essential personnel must clear the deck at this time. Paladins, prepare your lions,” said the serene amplified voice.

Sam and Colleen hastily made their way across the hangar deck. Slav was coiled around Shiro’s neck and annoying him with some indecipherable technobabble about alternative realities and parallel universes while Keith tried to wrestle Kosmo into a very strange-looking high-tech dog collar. It seemed to be made of the same material as the device that Sam had made for Katie. But there was no time to think about that now...

“All non-essential personnel, please clear the deck. Paladins, prepare your launch sequence.”

Colleen turned to take one last look at hangar deck as they stood inside of the open elevator.

Hunk and Allura had already donned their helmets and scrambled for their lions.

“Come on, boy!” Keith called to the giant alien wolf-like creature who raced after him towards the Black Lion.

She watched as Lance and Katie shared a brief but tender kiss before breaking apart and running in opposite directions toward the Red and the Green Lions.

The elevator doors closed just as Shiro and Slav were the last to step inside. Then the lift ascended rapidly to the observation deck as the lions powered up with a mighty roar.

As the Paladins blasted off into space, she heard Sam ask Slav, “Do you think it will work?”

“Without knowing exactly how many fissures there are in the fabric of all of the realities, it is very difficult to calculate the probability of success,” Slav replied.

“Do you think WHAT will work?” Colleen asked testily.

“The summoning beacon I made for Katie,” Sam replied. He checked the small tablet he pulled from the pocket of his uniform. “It will start broadcasting the signal as soon as Voltron is through the rift.”

They watched as the five lions began the combination sequence, forming the torso, legs, and arms of the giant super weapon.

“Ah! It’s already working!” Sam exclaimed triumphantly as Voltron soared through the rift and disappeared.

“Are you still getting a signal?” Slav asked.

“Yes! Yes! We did it, Slav!” Sam looked more hopeful than he had in a long time.

“What exactly are you summoning?” Shiro asked.

“The signal should pass through all of the tears in the fabric of all of the realities,” Slav began.

“Of course!” Shiro exclaimed. He turned to Colleen. “There are parallel universes with other versions of ourselves. We met another version of Slav and me—“

“Sven,” Slav added.

“Yeah. Sven saved Lance’s life and nearly got himself killed doing it,” Shiro explained.

“In at least one reality he actually did die,” Slav said. “In another he spent a long time in the Space Hospital. I have been observing all of this for a long time and gathering data. You see—“

“Observing what, exactly?” Colleen wanted to know.

“The other realities. There are other versions of our Paladins out there,” Slav replied.

“Other Paladins means that there are other Voltrons as well?” Shiro asked, wide-eyed with the realization of that implication.

Sam nodded and flashed a triumphant grin at Shiro and Slav before turning back to his wife. “If they are out there, our daughter is summoning them right now.”

“Yes,” agreed Slav. “When our young ones stand against the Great Darkness, there is a high probability that they will not stand alone.”

Shiro grinned and Colleen gasped. “Honerva won’t know what hit her! There’s no way she can defeat all of the Voltrons in the multiverse. I could kiss you both!” She settled for merely kissing her husband as Slav clicked his beak thoughtfully, looking at Shiro.

(Continued in the reblog.)

[grimelords]

So since the last time I posted one of these the entire world has changed dramatically and hopefully 4 hours of music will tide you over in quarantine for a bit longer. Strangely I’ve been busier than ever, and what started as a personal challenge to listen to a new album every day in February turned into me listening to 116 new albums in March and 124 in April. I’ve got a stacked google doc full of star ratings and dates now and it’s really been a lot of fun, I highly recommend trying it yourself. This is my March playlist, because I accidentally took a month off, and I’m thinking of either switching these playlists to weekly to make them a little more digestible or just dropping them whenever. Who knows. Let me know what you think and drop album recommendations in the comments please.

Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0k1JjT8fXcUFO6VpM3kaez?si=gWSv88vdShKSnHhLJ_80pQ

If you’d like to receive these playlists in a more digestible email format, please subscribe to my tinyletter here: http://tinyletter.com/grimelords

On A Slow Boat To China - Bing Crosby & Peggy Lee: Ok first off it’s amazing this song isn’t more racist. I don't remember now how or why I came across this. I think I was just thinking about crooners and how as a genre it's now existed in common popularity as a nostalgic idyll of a mytholigised past far longer than it was ever actually popular which is interesting. The origin of this song, according to wikipedia, is also one of the most 40s ideas I've ever read: "I'd like to get you on a slow boat to China" was a well-known phrase among poker players, referring to a person who lost steadily and handsomely. The idea being that a "slow boat to China" was the longest trip one could imagine. Loesser moved the phrase to a more romantic setting, yet it eventually entered general parlance to mean anything that takes an extremely long time".

Fight Night - Migos: I saw that Offset had some new show on Quibi the extremely fake sounding streaming service and I thought "how did Migos get so world conqueringly large that they get to make 10 minute shows nobody will watch for a $2 billion venture capital funded app that will never make any money?" They seem to have this massive reputation without having much to back it up. The last thing I remember everyone talking about was how Culure II was two hours long in order to game streaming numbers and was simply not good. They seemed to have sort of settled into making background music for scrolling instagram. But then I remembered Fight Night and I thought: "oh wait, that's right, Migos are fucking great". Where their other big hits like Bad And Boujee and Walk It Talk It have this sort of laid back vibe where they've comfortably nailed the formula and relax onto it, Fight Night commands your attention. StackboyTwan killed the beat - it has this propulsive momentum where it feels like it's constantly ramping up, moving up from the sidesick and bassline in the verse, up to the claps on the beat, and the big gang chants on the offbeat once the full instrumentation kicks in - then it just goes around and around and around with the constant bassline the whole tim. It's a perfect all-rise production because it never actually explodes, it's all building tension held down by an unchanging bassline.

Do It Puritan! - El Hombre Trajeado & Sue Tompkins: I am extremely delighted to announce that Sue Tompkins of one of my all time favourite single album bands Life Without Buildings has broken a nearly 20 year musical hiatus to appear on this song by El Hombre Trajeado. It is so nice to hear how her voice has changed and her approach has stayed the same. Her style is so unique and so good and I don't think I'll ever get tired of it.

5 8 6 - New Order: Before 'the incident' I had tickets to see New Order at the end of March and so I embarked on a big listen through of their discography, which has now unfortunately made it feel even worse that live music is cancelled indefinitely.

Oom Sha La La - Haley Heynderickx: First of all I love songs where they talking about how they're writing a song halfway through. And I love songs that seem like a pretty normal singer songwriter indie thing where someone just starts screaming near the end. I love this song. A great staring at the wall and absolutely losing your mind because you haven't done anything with your whole life anthem.

Elektrobank - The Chemical Brothers: Can you believe I've never listening to a full Chemical Brothers album before this month? Can you believe big beat ever went our of style? It feels insane that we ever swapped this sort of energy for the beige algorithm of EDM. I think there's a real triumph in this album, and in this track especially of replicating the live feeling in studio. Giving it this much space to grow and change and get very hairy near the end is amazing, it feels like it was just recorded live.

My Mind's A Ship (That's Going Down) - Katie Pruitt: It feels very rare to me that this sort of extremely smooth Nashville prduction actually makes a song better. It has a habit of strangling the life out of a song and making it blend into a boring paste of soundalikes, but with Katie Pruitt it works amazingly. Her songwriting is so distinct and clear and her voice, especially near the end where it punches hole in the sky, is so strong and so her own that it doesn't need anything else.

Water - Ohmme: "What if Tegan And Sara were a noise band instead?" is a question I didn't know I needed an answer to. I love any band that has the guts to write songs like this that sound like pop from an alternate history, so off kilter and odd and noisy but with this undeniable pop heart that the duo vocals make sound like schoolyard clapping chants remixed by Lightning Bolt.

Lions, Tigers and Bears - SLIFT: A friend put me on to Slift and described them as French King Gizz and really, I'm inclined to agree. This is the traditional long last song at the end of their new album, and as usual I am advocating that every song should be the long last song at the end of the album. I love this style of jam where everyone else goes to space but the rhythm section just digs in and works hard as fuck for ten minutes. Then the whole last 3 minutes of the song are just fat drone riffs. This song's got everything.

The Pines - 070 Shake: This 070 Shake album is unbeleivably good and it warms my heart to see the dark energy of The Pines live on through another century in yet another permutation. I have more to say about it later in the Jackson C Frank version coming up but it feels like this 070 Shake album kind of came and went but I implore you to listen, it’s an aoty contender for sure.

Standing On The Verge Of Getting It On - Funkadelic: If you can stop thinking about the intro, which I certainly can’t (Hey lady won’t you be my dog and I’ll be your tree and you can pee on me.) there is so much goodness in this song. For a while now I’ve been thinking about how, for lack of a better word, ‘positive’ music is consistently underrated in the critical canon. Dance music, disco and funk especially are derided as empty sugar music, while every cookie cutter metal band absolutely demands to be taken seriously. In dance music this manifests as genres like tech house sucking all the fun and individuality out of music until it’s just an endless parade of producers working to a schematic of the barest essentials. It feels like you can’t have fun and be taken seriously at the same time, which feels like an obvious contradiction but shouldn’t be!

Spoils - Dry Cleaning: Dry Cleaning are my Lock Of The Month Band To Watch In The Future Because They’re Gonna Go Off. They have such a great sound and I’m desperate for an album because I just need more. This song absolutely knocked me down when I first heard it. I love any band where it sounds like the singer has just wandered in while the rest of them were rehearsing. There’s a very good talking-songs movement happening in the UK right now between these guys, Do Nothing and Fontaines D.C and i’m excited to see where it progresses. I might put together a playlist a little later to show you what I mean.

As - Stevie Wonder: I finally listened to Songs In The Key Of Life this month, which is an experience I would recommend to everyone. This shit goes for 21 songs over 105 minutes and absolute bangs the whole way. The original release of this album was a double LP plus a 7", which is yet another reason I am grateful for streaming that I don't have to buy a damn box set to hear this thing.

Sleep Now In The Fire - Rage Against The Machine: I am working on a very niche playlist called Songs Where The Guitar Amp Accidentally Picks Up A Nearby Radio Station For A Couple Of Seconds and it's only 3 songs so far. A Man A Plan A Canal Panama by The Fall Of Troy, Melody 4 by Tera Melos and Sleep Now In The Fire by Rage Against The Machine. In every single one of those songs it feels like a critical component even though it's just an accident that's been left in because it sounds good. Here it's the perfect ending as the rage dies down and the commercial world fades back in. Anyway, my other question about this song is about the great Michael Moore directed video where they famously shut down Wall Street for an afternoon. There's a shot of a guy for a second holding a sign that says Donald Trump For President in 1999. Which is odd but not out of the question, he's been famous for a long time and there's always been freaks. My question is why the fuck did he have that sign that day? Was he amongst the Rage Against The Machine Fans that showed up? A counter protestor? Was he, perhaps most chillingly of all, just walking idly around Wall Street with his Donald Trump For President sign like usual and stumbled upon this whole hoo-haa accidentally?

Applause (Purity Ring Remix) - Lady Gaga: Did you fucking know that Purity Ring did a remix of Applause? If there’s something I’d love to know more about and it’s Purity Ring’s forays into pop production. After their first album they did some production for rappers like Danny Brown in the great track 25 Bucks, which is a good fit really - their sound is witch house with the tempo pushed back up, witch house of course just being chopped and screwed reinvented by tumblr users. So it’s a natural fit to take that new perspective back into the world of hip hop. They also did this fantastic remix of Applause after their first album. Then, after their second album they produced 3 songs for Katy Perry’s Witness album, and one Katy Perry song for a Final Fantasy mobile game soundtrack (?) and feel like the long silence and delay between their second and third albums is because of more behind the scenes pop production work - but if that’s true, where is it? Is it, as I suspect, part of my own personal Pepe Silvia, Katy Perry’s scrapped 2019 album that has vanished into thin air? Or is it part of Chromatica? I think Purity Ring have solidified an interesting place in pop, paving the way for Billie Eilish and Kim Petras’ dark anti-pop and so i’m excited to see where they go after this new album now that they’re the architects of the new wave.

React/Revolt - Drahla: The smartest thing you can do is add a saxophone to your band. The whole first half of this song could go for 20 minutes of growling screaming saxophone post-punk and I wouldn't mind. Then when the second half of the song kicks in it's fantastic in the way this whole Drahla album is: it's tight and sprawling post-punk at the same time with a complicated structure that seems to just pile onto itself instead of ever circling back.

And I Was Like - Porridge Radio: I'm seemingly having a real thing this month for songs that open with a bizzare acapella chant. Between this and the Funkadelic one it's a genre I'm very interested in hearing more of. Isaac Newton was a virgin and it's important to recognise that. The thing I love about this song is how it's in 3 distinc sections: Isaac Newton was a virgin, she's a birthday girl in a birthday world, and mum no please it's grunge, and they all feel like the concentrated energy of a 14 year old's thoughts. She sounds like she's almost crying when she sings 'she's a birthday girl in a birthday world'. The concentrated confusing teenaged energy of this song is just overwhelming.

Dirty Mattresses - Mama's Broke: So much of contemporary 'traditional folk' either exists as pure nostalgia music or as music that's trying too hard to be 'authentic' and evoke a mythology of a bygone time, but Mama's Broke manage to make it feel new and modern but honest and  authentic at the same time. The super close harmonies and modern approach remind me of House And Land who I also love, but the songwriting is in another class entirely.

Building A House - CHOPCHOP: I don't know if you've ever seen Bad Boy Bubby but CHOPCHOP feels a little like the band that he ends up joining at the end. A musical ensemble built to enable the will of a very strange man. I think the band is from the UK and I'm not sure where the singer is from, but he has this incredible deeply accented voice that brings such a gravity to everything he sings in the way that anyone speaking english as a second language accidentally brings new weight to common turns of phrase.

Universal Soldier - Jay Electronica: It feels fitting, looking back, that Jay Electronica finally released his album right before the world ended. It was literally now or never. Some how Jay-Z is the breakout star of this album for me. He's got some of his best verses in years on here and he's a great opposition to Electronica's flow when they trade verses. I would also, as an aside, like to know the origin of the kids cheering sample throughout this, because it's the same one from AM//Radio by Earl Sweatshirt and Wish You Were Gay by Billie Eilish. So what's that about.

Sticky Hulks - Thee Oh Sees: I've been very slowly getting into Oh Sees and I love them a lot so far. Their unweildy, huge discography spread across a lot of variations of the same name makes digging into them very rewarding as well. There's a great line on their wiki detailing all the times they've changed their name that goes: Orinoka Crash Suite (1997–2003), OCS (2003–2005, 2017), Orange County Sound (2005), The Ohsees (2006), The Oh Sees (2006–2008), Thee Oh Sees (2008–2017), Oh Sees (2017–2019) Osees (2019) to give you some idea of what we're working with here. Basically it's just everything you could want from a pychedelic band like this: a history and discography as shaggy as the songs themselves.

Knife On The Platter - BODEGA: In reading about Bodega I learned that they don't have a drummer in the traditional sense. They have someone credited as a 'stand up percussionist', and in listening back I realised that's they key to the groove in their music. He's not playing a kit he's just slamming at a tom and a snare on a rack, while one of the singers plays hi-hat here and there. So all the drumming has this barebones caveman feel to it and I absolutely love it. The band feels a lot like The Fashion, and that whole mid-2000s dance-punk movement that I've been desparate to come back so naturally I love it a lot.

Against Gravity - Horse Lords: Horse Lords are one of the most incredible bands I've heard in a long time. Somewhere between a more analogue Battles and Laddio Bolocko, they make a kind of churning math-jazz that sounds like huge intersecting squares of rhythm slowly overlapping. It feels like there's an infinite depth in these songs, you can listen and focus on a single instrument and see it shifting in and out of place with everyone else, before you lose it again and it retreats back into the swirling mass.

Plain To See Plainsman - Colter Wall: I've been listening to this Colter Wall album a lot, and it's really beginning to rank among my all time favourites. I grew up around the flattest place in the southern hemisphere, so I love the plains and it's very nice to have a cowboy song I can relate to like that.

The Nail - Sarah Shook & The Disarmers: Sarah Shook has so much character in her voice I completely love it. She is also a fantastic songwriter that manages to make outlaw country punk that sounds authentic and doesn't have the rockabilly posturing that a lot of the genre suffers from.

Inner Reaches 慾望的暗角二 - Gong Gong Gong 工工工: The best thing about Gong Gong Gong is you can listen to this whole song before you realise they don't have a drummer. They're a guitar and bass duo that play and sing with such a layered rhythmic intensity between the two of them that they really don't need one. A drummer would just clutter the space already taken up by their ferocious rhythm.

Country Pie - Bob Dylan: I'm a big fan of Bob Dylan's dumb songs. He has a lot where if it's the first song you ever heard from him you would be mad at whoever told you he was the greatest songwriter to ever live for trying to trick you like this. What I especially love about this song is how abruptly it ends, like dad just came home and everyone panicked cause they're know they're not supposed to be staying up that late.

You Did It Yourself - Arthur Russell: It seems hard to believe that I've only just found out about Arthur Russel. He seems to be a mainstay of Music Guy lists and somehow I've only heard of him this month. I've been obsessing over the Iowa Dream album, which is a compilation of a lot of different (mostly extremely high quality) demos from the late 70s to mid 80s and what really shines through other than the singular strength of his songwriting is how readily and easily he bends from country style folk to romantic piano ballads, to groovy post-punk like this. What I love so much about this song is it's a great lesson in songwriting: sometimes a song can just be a vague review of a middling movie and still have emotional resonance. Incredible. There's a great NPR article about Arthur Russel and the process of assembling half-takes and demos into complete recordings that you should read if you're interested. https://www.npr.org/2019/11/20/779721417/which-arthur-russell-are-we-getting-on-iowa-dream

The Dogs Outside Are Barking - Arthur Russell: I love this song because it's such a perfect distillation of a teenaged moment: trying to find a moment alone with someone when you have no freedom at all to create one. The song cycles through potential situations but leaves the problem unresolved, existing in the moment of nervous romantic tension preceding an unasked question and it's just beautiful.

Men For Miles - Ought: I love the vocal melody in the verse here so much. Spiking up unnaturally at the end of the lines like a nervous and strange version of The Strokes. Even the way he cramps his words in in the chorus is so good, switching registers randomly like he's impersonating someone else.

Mister Soweto - Lizzy Mercier Descloux: https://pitchfork.com/features/from-the-pitchfork-review/9828-lizzy-mercier-descloux-behind-the-muse/ Pitchfork has a great article about Lizzy Mercier Descloux detailing how she is continually undervalued and underappreciated. I found her though my Discover Weekly and became immediately obsessed with this album - a perfect mix of off-kilter 80s bass and brass that is so colourful and seems to move in a million directions at once like the songs can't even catch up with themselves sometimes. I'm excited to dig into her discography more and try to understand her more because she has a truly unique approach that I can't get enough of.

Sweden - Marilyn Crispell: I've been looking for a while for other pianists of Cecil Taylor's calibre, rare type that it is and I am so glad to have finally found out about Marilyn Crispell. She plays free jazz like Taylor, but in much less percussive and disonnant style. There's a New York Times quote that seems to follow her that says "Hearing Marilyn Crispell play solo piano is like monitoring an active volcano. She is one of a very few pianists who rise to the challenge of free jazz." and it's really very apt. She will move with seemingly no warning at all from mediative, colourful stokes to a mad descent unto uncertainty and beyond, then back again without a moments hesitation. Her music moves like a dream, linking a stream of unlinked images with an ease that only seems incongruous on reflection.

Twins - Gem Club: I have loved this song for a very long time and I come back to it over and over and appreciate it anew. What I appreciate about on listening to it this time is the strangeness of it's structure, following up the verse with an instrumental break, and then a long instrumental intro to the chorus gives it so much space to spread out and breathe, giving the beautiful gravity of the song even more weight. Then after the chorus it moves straight to a bridge and then the intro and first verse again. It's a fantastic song that makes it's small parts so large, where another songwriter or another producer would pare them down.

Grand Central - Paul Cauthen: Something I've learned in listening to a lot of cowboy music is that the number one thing that cowboys hate and fear is getting hanged. They hate it worse than cats hate getting sprayed with water. I found out about Paul Cauthen combing through Colter Wall's similar artists looking for more of this brand of new old fashioned country and I really found it here. Paul Cauthen comes from four generations of preachers and left the church to pursue country music instead, which feels like an extremely old fashioned position to be in here in 2020 but I guess lots of people in Texas still live like that, and thank god they do or we wouldn't have Paul Cauthen's big mournful Elvis voice to sing us songs about the railway.

Serafina - BAMBARA: I love this sort of spoken word leather jacket rock and roll. It's so extremely Cool in an old fashioned way. Like a more rock and roll version of Enablers.

So 4 Real - The Hecks: I love love love this song that sounds like a sped up Prince demo. The strange thinness of the mix and the way the vocals are buried just makes it sound so strange and great, like it was put together on some ancient 4 track recorder that can't handle the pure energy of the song.

In The Pines (Version 2) - Jackson C. Frank: There's a very good 3 hour compilation of Jackson C. Frank recordings that came out a few years called Remastered And Unreleased that I listened through the other day. It's just magnificent. This version of In The Pines is one of my favourite I've ever heard, the mournful vocals coupled with his churning rhythm guitar really brings out the darkness of it in a way I've never heard.

(Tumble) In The Wind (Version 1) - Jackson C. Frank: Another favourite from this compilation that is slightly hard to listen to. I don't know if there's a date on it but I'd guess this was recorded near the end of his life. It is so beautiful, but you can hear in his voice and breathing that he's unwell. In Horseshoe Crabs by Hopalong she sings a story from his perspective this song really seems to fit in the second half of that. "Woke from the dream and I was old / Staring at the ass crack of dawn / Walked these streets up and down / Looking for Paul Simon / All I found was myself, lost in time / I tried singing my songs / But I lost my mind"

Sludge - Squid: I'm thinking of putting together a playlist of all the great Black Midi-adjacent bands I've found out about recently and Squid is at the top of the list. This new breed of art-punk is so fantastic and goes in a million different directions. I'm just so excited it exists.

Straight Shot - Quelle Chris: I love this song and Guns is a phenomenal album but there’s one thing bothering me. The ‘who are you, what are you’ part at the end sounds so incredibly familiar to me and I can’t figure out why. As far as I can tell it’s not a sample, but googling reveals that the english voice on it is fucking James Acaster the standup comedian. So what’s going on? Quelle Chris himself is less than helpful: “Straight Shot is one of those ideas that reached out to me, we got along and I simply showed it around town. The chorus, poem at the end and basic piano progression literally came to me in two separate dreams”. Who knows. Great song though.

Levitation - Dua Lipa: What I really like about this song is that she says sugarboo. This whole album bangs and Dua is really reaping the benefits of being the only pop star with the guts to release an album while everyone’s in lockdown I also have a half-baked theory about the way this song is almost interpolating Blame It On The Boogie in the ‘moonlight, starlight’ part as a sort of aggressive takeover of Michael Jackson’s cancelled legacy. Which is smart really. The same way Taylor Swift is re-recording her albums, let’s just get The Weeknd in the studio for a couple of days and give the world back it’s bangers.

Another Crashed Car - Nine Inch Nails: I am so glad Trent Reznor put out another two volumes of Ghosts. Ghosts I-IV from 2008 seems to have been the bridge from his Nine Inch Nails work to his film score work, and now that he’s had such success with that it’s nice to hear him writing in this style without telling anyone else’s story again. It’s also interesting for him to go back to this project now that Ghosts I-IV has paid dividends in the form of the sample at the centre of Old Town Road but that’s neither here nor there. It’s hard to pick and individual track from these, because they work so effectively as long form albums and not individual tracks, but I chose this one because I put the album on as background ambient while I was doing some boring data entry at work and this track is the point at which I realised I was going out of my mind with stress from doing the simplest tasks because of Trent’s Damned Chords.

Lilacs - Waxahatchee: This is a perfect song. It makes me want to like, draw charts about it and go through it bar by bar to figure out how she did it. It’s perfectly put together. It feels like she uses every trick in the book and it just comes together flawlessly in 3 minutes. Amazing.

Cool Water - Hank Williams: I decided to properly listen to Hank Williams because his shadow stretches over so much of country music, and while a lot of his music really alienated or bored me, and a lot of his songs feel like they would read as novelty songs today (like Hey Good Looking), this is the song that made me understand why he’s so revered.

In My Bones (feat. Kimbra and Tank And The Bangas) - Jacob Collier: Jacob Collier generally irks me. He makes brain music for redditors that lose their mind when someone shows them chord inversions or odd time signatures. Youtubers whose whole personality is ‘y’all heard Giant Steps?’ But he killed it on this song. It’s great despite him. There’s still a lot of corniness to work through, mostly in the big yuck funky lyrics, but structurally it’s a kaleidoscope and a big chunk of its success I’m putting down to Kimbra and Tank who understand that performance is a bigger part of a song than composition in a way Collier maybe doesn’t yet. He can overload the bassline and stop-start the rhythms as much as he likes but without actual personalities driving it it’ll just sound like a Peter Gabriel midi played at 200%.

Earthquake - Graham Central Station: I learned something wonderful in researching this band. The leader, Larry Graham, who was in Sly And The Family Stone is credited with inventing slap bass. He himself refers to the technique as "thumpin' and pluckin' ".

Quand Les Larmes D’un Ange Font Danser La Neige - Melody’s Echo Chamber: Once again furious that I’ve known of Melody’s Echo Chamber for years but never listened to them until now. I have been missing out. This is a perfect sprawling psychedelic jam punctuated with a bizzare cut-up recording about shitting yourself when you die and being declared brain dead in the vatican. It’s got everything. I had to look up who the drummer was on this song because he’s just nailing it, and it turns out it’s Johan Holmegaard from Dungen which is really a perfect fit.

Murder Most Foul - Bob Dylan: I was thinking the other day about how Bob Dylan is doing in quarantine. The man who hasn’t stopped moving his whole life and who’s been on a never ending tour  since the 70s is now, I assume, just pacing a hole in a hotel carpet somewhere and jabbering to himself. The strangest part of Bob dropping this 17 minute song about JFK out of nowhere is that he hasn’t put out any original music since 2012. So a gigantic song like this is an even bigger surprise. I, already a huge fan of gigantic songs and Bob Dylan, unsurprisingly love it. I love the slow stirring of the instrumentation, like he hired Dirty Three as a backing band and I love that nearly the entire second half is just listing good songs that he knows. It’s a remarkable song and unlike anything i’ve heard before from Dylan or anyone else. It’s interesting to hear Bob Dylan step into being the great chronicler of the 60s like he’s been told he already was his entire life almost 50 years later, finally accepting the fate foisted on him. The other thing I love about this song is the line when he for some reason praises Lee Harvey Oswald’s shooting “Greatest magic trick ever under the sun / Perfectly executed, skillfully done”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0k1JjT8fXcUFO6VpM3kaez?si=gWSv88vdShKSnHhLJ_80pQ

[thegoodprincess]

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 2

Author: thegoodprincess

Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character

Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au

Word Count: 2.1k [series, ongoing]

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentions of violence [a stabbing occurs]

Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.

(I recommend listening to this song while reading)

Together We are Apart, but Apart We Are Together

Chapter 2. Fate

“Fate has a funny way of intervening in people’s lives.” ― Katie Ashley

It was a few months later in the dead of winter when I was walking near the Han River. Due to the icy temperatures the river was partially frozen. The ground surrounding it was coated in a fresh blanket of snow that came down earlier in the day. A chilly breeze nipped at the tender flesh of my cheek, causing an involuntary shiver to rake down my spine.

Sighing out my condensed breath formed a cloud that mingled with the crisp air. I glanced up at the sky. Overhead the pale moon glowed bright, illuminating the night sky against the backdrop of countless glittery stars. Looking around I stood alone admiring the the way the shadows created by the city lights flitted across the pavement. It was quiet, not eerily so, but in a way that emphasized the bare stillness of wintertime. Most people were at home presumably getting ready to go to sleep as it was fairly late.

I was waiting for my next patron to arrive: a man who was going to be murdered during a robbery gone wrong. This was a common occurrence for me. I was one of many angels of death. I was not a malevolent force. I did not decide who lived and who died, and how the act itself was carried out. I simply collected the souls of the fallen and escorted them to the afterlife.

It was bittersweet condoling the newly deceased once they realized their predicament. I would allow them to say their last goodbyes to loved ones and others they deemed fit before they departed into the light. But it was harrowing having to witness death first hand and being strictly forbid from interfering.

I had seen countless people perish a variety of ways. I had seen it all from natural deaths having to do with diseases or natural processes like aging, to accidental deaths like car fatalities. Suicides and homicides were some of the worst. While death was inevitable, loss of life done by the hands of oneself or by another wasn’t. There always lied a choice, humans just choose to be masters of their own and sometimes other’s destinies.

While I was a creation of purity, I had been become well acquainted with grief. It was almost as if I was stuck in an endless cycle; each time the metaphorical wound was healed it was being habitually ripped open. In the grand scheme of things it was woefully the one major downside of the duty. Tonight would be no different. I would again begrudgingly be a bystander to yet another fateful demise.

As if on cue an older man adorn in designer clothing came into view, walking cautiously with shifting eyes assessing his surroundings. His shoulders were tensed and his pace was quick as he shuffled across the sidewalk. He looked genuinely frightened as if he was paranoid that someone was following him, and I guess he wasn’t wrong.

Then seemingly from the shadows a man wearing a black ski mask and gloves appeared from behind some foliage. He snuck up and roughly grabbed the older gentleman from behind with gloved hands, startling him.

The two men fought for a short while until the masked man managed to get his forearm around the older gentleman’s neck. He began to strangle him. However, I don’t think the masked man’s intent was to maliciously murder him. Rather he was meaning to strangle the older man to the point of him passing out. This would ensure that the masked man could steal his wallet without the risk of being followed and potentially caught.

But nevertheless, the masked man exerted lethal pressure for way longer than necessary to the elder’s neck. The older man’s knees began to buckle and his struggling became less erratic. Regardless of the older gentleman involuntarily becoming compliant, the masked man had yet to let up his hold on him. The older gentleman’s arms dangled limply at his sides. He was dying.

Just then a third party came into view. I was bewildered as I wasn’t expecting anyone else to show up. A young man with a bag slung over his shoulder was inching closer and closer, until his face came into view. He seemed vaguely familiar, the distance between us was making it hard to distinguish certain features.

Then almost instantly I recognized him. It was the boy whose face I had found to be bewitching. He was indelibly engrained into my memory. While I had stopped secretly hoping to catch a serendipitous glimpse of him when I was out, there hadn’t been a day that went by where I didn’t wonder what he was doing, who he was with, or if he even frequented the same places.

He still looked the same dressed smartly in a white turtleneck, tan trousers, wool trench coat, and tartan print scarf. It was apparent that the overcast winter weather had subtly lightened his complexion by a few shades. The only significant difference about him was his hair. His once dark locks had been dyed to a golden blonde hue. In addition to the new color, the parting of his hair now showcased his entire forehead.

Regardless of the butterflies that had erupted in my abdomen from seeing him again, the feeling dissipated all too soon as my stomach sunk. There had never been a greater time where I wished he hadn’t show up, especially considering the circumstances of this situation.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

My veins ran cold, as if the very ice water of the river before us, coursed through them. Every hair on the back of my neck rose on end. I silently prayed he would turn around back in the direction he came from and not involved himself. But I was sorely mistaken. He stopped in his tracks, witnessing the killing of the elder. Swiftly dropping his bag, he ran over to help.

What ensued caused me to let out an audible gasp. The boy threw a hard punch and was able to stun the masked man momentarily, as the criminal fell to the ground. Assuming the masked man to be knocked out, the boy then attempted to help the older man who fell to his knees gasping for breath. Crouching down, the boy pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. But his attempt was short lived.

Rising from his place on the ground a bit disoriented, the robber fumbled around in his front coat pocket and hastily pulled out a small pistol rashly pointing it at the pair with a quivering hand. The older gentleman cowered low behind the younger boy, almost as if he was using him as a shield. The boy’s arms immediately came up to surrender, remaining perfectly still. The gunman agitated at the boy’s heroics fixed his aim directly to the boy’s chest. He was purposely planning to deliver a fatal shot to his heart. All to quickly the gun shot’s sound reverberated off the concrete. I could only watch in horror.

In that moment the world seemed to turn upside down. My mind was reeling. I felt dizzy, bile crept up into my throat while all I felt was I was my heart slamming against my ribcage. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as the bullet exited the barrel of the gun. Naturally the boy screwed his eyes shut while he tensed his entire body, bracing himself for the inevitable impact. A second later he flinched backwards.

Shortly after the deafening crack of the bullet penetrated my eardrums, I squinted my eyes to check where the boy had been shot. To my relief the middle of his chest was still intact, but a bright red substance began to slowly spread from his shoulder region and seep down into the area where his heart lay beating. The gunman had indeed missed his intended target, and instead shot clean through the boy’s left shoulder. The boy’s facial expression twisted into a state of confusion, shocked at what had just occurred. I assumed the adrenaline numbed his senses, altering his frame of mind.

The older gentlemen looked like he wanted to help but he remained unmoving still afraid to come out from behind the boy. The gunman tried to shoot again but to some miracle his trigger jammed. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, the older man quickly abandoned the boy, scurrying off without looking back. But the boy was too weak to follow, he remained holding his shoulder nearly doubled over. The pain was beginning to set in.

In an effort to make due with the boy, the gunman reached into his interior coat pocket to withdraw his hand holding an odd black object. It was revealed to be a switchblade when he subtlety flicked his wrist and the blade sprung out. Since the older man escaped on the boy’s behalf, the masked man felt it was only fair the boy be robbed instead. The boy assessing the situation held out one of his hands as if to plead for mercy. A pained grimace painted his pretty face.

Then I saw the boy’s lips begin to move. The two appeared to be exchanging words. I felt petrified, so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Their voices came out distorted, sounding more like unintelligible mumbles than any actual language. It was as though they were talking underwater.

In a last ditch attempt to save himself from further harm, I saw the boy slowly reach into his back pocket with his good hand and pull out his wallet. He dangled the wallet in front him to show the criminal before he chucked it into the snow at the criminal’s feet, hoping this would satisfy the man.

The man hastily grabbed the wallet off the ground and excitedly opened it to reveal its contents. But his smile soon faltered, boiling anger brewing in his eyes instead.

Originally it seemed he didn’t intended to stab the boy after already shooting him in a fit of blind rage, the knife was just the extra assurance he needed to intimidate the boy into cooperating. But the boy stuck his nose in business that didn’t concern him and ultimately costed the masked man.

Not only did the boy escalate the situation and cause the victim he purposely targeted to get away, but the masked man wasted time and energy grappling with the boy which increased the likelihood of him being seen and or arrested by the authorities. He went through all that troublesome effort and for what? Some chump change he could have easily pickpocketed off someone on the subway. He was throughly pissed.

The criminal was going to teach the boy a lesson. Taking the measly amount of bills out, he hurled what remained of the wallet back into the snow. He stalked closer to the boy ready to attack with a sadistic smirk.

Slowly the boy began taking small steps backwards subconsciously putting distance between him and the impending danger. Unfortunately he was unknowingly inching closer to the water.

But all hell broke loose when the boy accidentally slipped on some dangerously slick ice that caused him to lose his balance. He then clumsily stumbled backwards and plunged into the frigid water of the river, breaking through the ice in the process.

The gunman realizing the gravity of the situation, almost instantly snapped out of his aggressive trance-like state and stood there with a blank expression. It was then that he began to visibly panic, nervously looking around to see if anyone else had witnessed what had just happened. He apprehensively neared the edge of the river and looked as though he was debating whether to help the boy or not. But he knew if he did, it would only further incriminate him.

Deciding to conceal his involvement in tonight’s events, he plucked the jammed gun and wallet from the snow and hurriedly planted the two respective items by the river’s edge.

The gunman made it appear as though the boy had committed suicide by first shooting himself and then falling into the river. He subsequently raked his feet sloppily over the snow in a back and forth motion to disguise his shoe prints. Once he was pleased enough with his work, he bolted off fleeing the scene.

Quickly wrenching myself from my deep stupor, I rushed over without taking a second to assess the severity of my actions and immediately jumped in to rescue the boy.

[mybunnyparadenme]

(This is my edgy blog btw) Ship: bunny duh Prompts: 3, 11, and 12 I couldn’t choose so you can pick one if you don’t want to do them all!

Sorry it took me so long! I managed to combine all three prompts and here’s the result! Hope you like it~

#2 Things you said too quietly/#11 Things you said when you were drunk/#12 things you said when you thought i was asleep

Kenny couldn't think of a better way to spend a Friday night. He and Butters were hanging out in Butters' bedroom, listening to sugary sweet pop music and drinking McDonald's iced coffees that Kenny had picked up on the way over. They weren't drinking just any iced coffee though. Butters had nicked a bottle of Kahlua from his parent's liquor cabinet, and the two of them had been adding it into their coffees all night. Kenny already had a good buzz going, and Butters had just gone past that judging by how loud he was talking.

"You can't hog it all, Ken!" Butters pouted, reaching for the bottle with grabby hands. "Give it here!"

"Dude you've had more than me by now." Kenny said, laughing when Butters pouted even harder. He handed it over easily though, Butters deserved a night to let as loose as he wanted.

Instead of pouring more into his drink, Butters brought it straight to his lips and swallowed down several mouthfuls before he pulled it back with a grimace. "Oh that's strong!"

"You should've mixed it with your coffee!"

"It's pretty much all Kahlua at this point." Butters said, swishing around the contents in his half empty cup. It was much darker now than when Kenny had presented it to him. He looked up and gave Kenny a wild grin. "Besides, I can handle it. Waterin' it down is for pussies!

Kenny laughed again, the full kind of laugh that only happened when you were drunk enough that every little thing became the funniest thing you ever heard. He was so glad Stephen and Linda were going to be gone until tomorrow afternoon. The two of them could enjoy this time without having to worry about getting caught with pilfered liquor. Speaking of being caught though... "Okay, so how grounded do you think you'd be if your parents walked in right now?"

"Um." Butters paused, looking worried for a split second downing the remainder of his drink. He shook his head and raised his fist in the air with a shout, "I don't know and I don't care! You're looking at a guy who doesn't give a fuck about getting grounded!"

"Holy shit, drunk you is a badass." Kenny said, a slow smile forming on his face. He felt more attracted to Butters in this moment than he ever had before, but then again being attracted to Butters wasn't really new to him. Still, he couldn't deny Butters saying he didn't care about getting grounded was really fucking hot. He grabbed the bottle of Kahlua, hoping a strong shot would clear his thoughts, and found that it was almost empty. "Damn, we almost finished the whole thing, Butters. We're gonna have to fill it up with something before your folks come back."

"Do we have to?" Butters asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. "They get enough from me already, fuck them and fuck their booze!"

"Hell yeah, fuck those tyrants!" Kenny said, but mentally he told himself to brew some coffee and vodka together later. As much as he loved this new side of Butters, there was no way he was letting Butters get grounded into oblivion over one night of fun.

"And if they try anything we could run away together!" Butters said, looking excited now. His eyes were bright and dreamy. "That would really show 'em. Ooh, we could really piss them off and leave a note sayin' we went to Vegas and are getting married!"

"Huh?!" Kenny had been about to tip the rest of his iced coffee into his mouth, but hearing that last bit shocked him so much he ended up spilling it all over his sweater.

Like a light switch flicking off, Butters' bravado fell away into concern. "Oh no, I'm sorry for getting so carried away and startlin' you Kenny! We gotta get that sweater in the wash before the stain sets in."

"It's... it's not that bad." Kenny murmured, hoping the heat rising to his cheeks looked more like a drunken flush. "I can just rinse it off in the sink when I go home."

"And catch your death of cold? Uh-uh, we're getting that cleaned right away. Give it here." Butters leaned over and started to lift it off of Kenny's body.

It took his alcohol addled brain a minute to realize that Butters was actually undressing him right now. Kenny couldn't help the long 'nice' that went through his mind as the sweater went over his head, but immediately afterwards their eyes locked and the full awkwardness of the situation finally hit them. Kenny's arms were over his head and tangled up in his sweater's sleeves, Butters' nose an inch away from his. He was close enough to a kiss...

"Oh sweet Mary." Butters breathed as he pulled back, his cheeks blazing. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't've done that."

"No big deal!" Kenny quickly reassured him, his heart was slamming against his ribcage. He slipped his sweater the rest of the way off and held it out in front of him, keeping his eyes locked on the ground. "Here."

"Thank you!" Butters squeaked, standing up way too fast. He swayed on his feet, but managed to stay upright. "Y-You can go ahead and grab one of my shirts while I get this washed okay?"

"Okay, I will. Thanks." Kenny said, standing up awkwardly. He felt so exposed without his sweater, goosebumps rising all over his arms. He could feel Butters eyes on him even without looking up.

"I'll be back soon!" Butters said before bolting out of the room.

Kenny let himself wallow in embarrassment for a few seconds, but then the cold got to him and he made his way over to the dresser on the other side of the room. He picked the first long-sleeved shirt on, a pale green one that smelled like citrus detergent. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized it as the scent that always seemed to cling to Butters' skin. He brought the sleeve up to his nose and inhaled deeply, then buried his face in his hands when he realized what he was doing. The alcohol, he blamed this on the alcohol.

A few minutes later Butters came back into the room, still looking a little flustered. "O-Okay, it'll be ready in a little while."

"Cool." Kenny said from his spot on the bed. The tension was still thick between them, and it was high time they brought the mood back to what it was before. He put on an exaggerated grin and casually asked, "So what'd you think of my tiddies? They were pretty great right?"

"Oh my god!" Butters giggled, all of his nervousness fading away as he laughed. He let himself sink onto the bed next to Kenny, their shoulders brushing casually. "My honest opinion? They were a little flat for my tastes.

"You wound me, Butters." Kenny sighed, placing a hand over his heart dramatically.

"But I thought your freckles were neat. I never realized these were an all-over thing." Butters said, tapping the tip of Kenny's nose.

"Yeah, they... they're usually hidden underneath my clothes." Kenny said, his heart leaping at that easy touch. He hoped it wasn't just the Kahlua making him do that.

"You should show them off more often." Butters smiled at him. He said the next part softly, almost too low to hear. "They're really cute on you."

Cute? Butters thought he was cute? Kenny chewed the inside of his cheek, fighting back the smile that was threatening to give away how happy hearing that made him. Holy shit, Butters Stotch thought he was cute!

"I feel like dancin', don't you Ken?" Butters asked, as he rose to his feet again. He moved over to his nightstand where his phone was still playing pop songs. "Pick something fun for us to dance to!"

"Uhhhh, play some Katy Perry!" Kenny blurted out as he stood up too. "The earlier the better!"

"Got it!"

A minute later the two of them were belting out lyrics about getting hitched in Vegas, laughing and jumping around so much that Kenny was sure the floor was going to collapse underneath them. The room was spinning and the Kahlua and coffee mixture was sloshing around in his stomach, but Kenny felt better than he had in a while just being here with Butters. He always felt better when they were together.

They danced for half a dozen songs, shouting gibberish when they forgot the lyrics or just plain didn't know them in the first place. They were out of breath by the time they shut the music off and fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, giggling from both exhaustion and the alcohol still coursing through their bodies. Butters had a smile so wide his cheeks had to hurt.

"That was a lot of fun, Kenny." Butters said, reaching up to brush Kenny's hair from his sweaty forehead. His eyes were shining. "Thanks for coming over today."

"Thanks for inviting me." Kenny said, leaning into the touch with a sigh. "Hanging out with you is the best."

"Yeah?" Butters closed his eyes, a sleepy smile forming on his face. "I feel the same. You're my best friend, you know."

Had he known that? Kenny thought back to all the time they spent together, just the two of them. They were close definitely but... best friends? God that was freaking profound. Was that just the alcohol talking? Would Butters even remember saying it in the morning? God he wanted Butters to remember this.

"Butters do you-" He started, only to cut himself off when he saw that Butters' eyes were closed, his breathing even like he was fast asleep. He reached up and waved his hand in front of his face, holding his breath until Butters' eyes fluttered open.

"Mm? What is it, Ken?" Butters murmured, his eyes soft with slowly fading consciousness.

"You meant it right?" Kenny swallowed down the nervousness from earlier that threatened to steal his words away. God his eyes were the palest shade of blue. He wanted to tell Butters how beautiful they looked.

It was silent for a moment, long enough for Kenny to worry that Butters had fallen asleep with his eyes open, but then he reached up and patted his cheek softly. "'Course I meant it. You're my sunshine guy."

Kenny wanted to melt into this moment. Butters' fingers were warm on his heated face, and surprisingly rough with callouses. Probably from all the chores his parents had him do, but it was comforting all the same. Butters eyes drifted shut, and without the eye contact Kenny felt brave enough to reach up and place his own hand on top of his. He could feel his whole body relax as this quiet moment stretched on, and sleep started to overtake his consciousness. Just before he drifted off, he let himself murmur, "You're my best friend too Butters... light of my life. I love you so much."

He was asleep before he could hear the soft gasp that followed his confession.

[doof-doofblog]

"IAN!"

Friday 22nd January 2021

Hello again everyone! I hope you're all doing okay. I'm really looking forward to writing about this blog, I think this is the moment everyone has been waiting for! The build up to this point has been massive! I'm sure the majority of you know what's happened already, but I truly can't wait to jump right in.

Wow! What an absolutely fantastic episode! Everything has finally come out! Before I even mention the main event, let's focus on Frankie and Katy to start off with. After finally reconnecting with her Dad, in the previous episode Frankie called up her Mum informing her that she wants nothing more to do with her. Tonight, Katy desperately approaches her daughter, claiming that everything she's been told is a lie, however as soon as Frankie mentions she's going to get a DNA test done to prove who her Father is, Katy knows she can no longer hide the truth from her, she admits that Mick is in fact her Dad. Frankie is absolutely disgusted with her Mother, as she's claiming that they were in love. Regardless if that is true or not, the fact she had sexual intercourse with a child, plain and simply makes her a paedophile. Frankie turns and walks away, leaving her Mother crying in the middle of the Square. As she settles back into the Carter household, both Mick and Linda are talking about the excitement to introduce her to the rest of their family, including all her brothers and sister. Even though Frankie questions if they would be happy with that, it looks as if her Mum is still on her mind. Was she really naïve and confused?! Both Linda and Mick fully understand that Katy, at the end of the day, is her Mum and it'll be hard for her to move on knowing what she knows. Frankie pleads for them not to report her to the police, even though she doesn't condone her Mother's actions, she fears it will absolutely destroy her.

This episode also seems to show that it's Phil's birthday, and he's celebrating his 60th! Even though his family have organised a special birthday at home, it's fair to say that Phil has his mind focused on other things.

Which brings us to the main event of the episode! Firstly I just want to say that the performances from both Adam Woodyatt and Letitia Dean were absolutely incredible! They absolutely carried this episode! After realising that Sharon lied to him about Dennis's phone being broken, it seems that Ian is starting to believe that Sharon could be the one behind him being unwell. As Sharon calls him that his dinner is ready, Ian's phone pings notifying him that he's got a voice message, as he hears it - it appears to be the Doctor he visited with Max, he mentions that in regard to his tests there appears to be some cause for concern. It looks as if this brings it all full circle for Ian and he knows that Sharon has been the one behind it all. As his wife calls him to get settled, he sees the lovely meal she's prepared - a beautiful candlelit dinner with a bottle of wine on the table.

--

As they get comfortable and Sharon plates up his food, you can see he is watching her every move, wiping her hands on her napkin etc. He attempts to make small talk with his wife, talking about the people they've lost in their lives and how its just those two together now. As he really tries to make conversation, its easy to notice that he's not touched a single piece of food on his plate, not even drunk any wine! He questions her why she had used separate pans to prepare their food, to which she simply explains that she doesn't want to put on any weight, and with Ian being so unwell recently, he needs all the energy he can get. Ian attempts a smile at his wife response, but you can see deep down that he knows something isn't right, he still reluctant to touch his food. Instead of causing a fuss, he suggests to Sharon that they have something else instead and they could reheat this food for another day. Sharon, at this point is visibly getting frustrated, she pleads for her husband to a least take a bite, as she's worked so hard to make it for him. She informs him that she wants to make this night special for him.

It looks as if Ian can't hide his suspicion any longer, out of blue and getting straight to the point he asks his wife "Where's the poison, Sharon? Is it in the wine or the sauce?" - Instantly, Sharon denies any wrong doing, informing her husband that he's gone mad due to his paranoia since his attack. But Ian doesn't believe a word she says as he scoops a fork full of food and directs it in Sharon's direction, informing her to eat it instead. In an attempt to prove a point to her husband, she takes the fork from Ian, knowing full well the poison is in the food, she slowly raises the fork to her lips, but before it can get any closer into her mouth, she takes it away, leaving Ian knowing everything he needs to know. In absolute devastation, he questions his new wife "Why?" - Sharon leaves the table, knowing her plan has been sussed, all you can hear is Ian's pleads of an explanation as to why she tried to poison him. Deep down, part of me thinks "How dare he asks her "Why?"" - but Sharon turns sharply informing him that he knows EXACTLY why she tried to poison him. In response, Ian simply says the name "Dennis!"

It's at this moment that everything comes flooding out, Sharon forces Ian to listen to the voice message her son had left her on the night of the boat crash, instantly they both start crying, floods of tears falling down their faces. (Once again, I have to say fantastic performances from both Adam and Letitia). It's then that Ian attempts to inform his wife that he never killed Dennis, but Sharon doesn't want o hear it and gives him a huge smack across the face, calling him a "Liar!". To be fair, he probably did deserve that slap, but he begs once again to explain everything to Sharon, the full details of what happened that night. All this time, Sharon has believed that Ian locked her son in the room and left him to die, but Ian pleads to her to let him explain. He reveals that he never knew the boat was going to sink, if he had he would never have locked him in in the first place. He explains how Dennis was acting that night and wanted to teach him a lesson for bullying Bobby, however when things started to get more dangerous he realised he had to go back and try and save Dennis. He continues to explain to Sharon that he actually attempted to save her son, recalling that he got him out of the locked room, they went down the corridor with the water rising up to their necks, she recalls there being a loud noise and huge wave came out of nowhere, unfortunately this caused Ian to lose hold of Dennis, even though it was dark he tried to find him but he simply couldn't - very sadly, Dennis got swept under and drowned. Both of them are in floods of tears at this point as everything revolving around how Dennis died comes to light.

Regardless of this Sharon informs her husband that everyone around him hates him, the fact that he had so many suspects out to kill him. She mentions that his children hate him also, how is it fair that Dennis is dead and that Ian gets to live? All her anger and grief once again comes flooding out, attacking Ian with harsh words of truth. Suddenly, Ian seems to agree on everything she's saying. He looks back on his life, how many wives he's had, have any of them really loved him? He's sadly lost two children and his remaining children hate him - to him, it all kind of makes sense, why should he carry on living? This is where things, I thought took an interesting turn - he started actually eating the food placed in front of him, much to Sharon's shock. At first, she questions what he's doing, but when he carries on eating and eating, she shouts that he should eat every bite and die alone. She scurries out of the room, leaving Ian alone eating. However, it looks as if everything gets too much for Sharon, would she really let Ian die, knowing full well his food was poisoned? It looks as if the guilt gets to her, she hurries back upstairs and pushes the plate of food away from him, although he attempts to carry on eating it, she forces him to be sick and bring it all back up. Interestingly, instead of attempting to kill her life-long friend, she does a complete 180 and tries to save him.

After everything that has come to light and Ian bringing up all the poison food, he still desperately tries to apologise to his wife. To be fair, Sharon has never been a killer, if she's wanted someone dead she's always asked someone else to do it for her, or even backed out at the last minute. Something tells me that she thought "Enough is enough!" - both she and Ian have suffered enough due to the circumstances of Dennis's death. Sharon then decides to take off her wedding ring, it's true she never loved Ian. He begs her to put it back on, but she simply says "I've just tried to kill you!" but Ian pleads for her to reconsider and they can work things out. But in all honestly, it's not going to really is it?! After everything they've been through the past few months, how could they ever come back from this? Plus the valid fact that Sharon never loved him and was only doing it to get her revenge. She simply says goodbye and leaves him alone in the Vic.

--

While all this has been happening at the Vic, Phil has been waiting urgently to hear news that Sharon has gone ahead and killed Ian. During his birthday celebrations, the doorbell goes and Phil rushes to the door to see Sharon. He asks her straight out whether the job was done, she bows her head and simply states that if he really wants Ian dead, he's going to have to do it himself. Phil looks completely disappointed that she's backed out of their plan, he takes it upon himself to walk directly to the Vic. Without anyone seeing, he sneaks up the stairs, searching every single room for Ian. But he's nowhere to be seen, he's simply disappeared, scarpered, in pure frustration and anger Phil screams Ian's name, as if it could be heard from all over the Square!

The final clip we see is Ian, slowly making his way to the train station. Has Sharon's words really hit home for him? Is he really not wanted by his family? Do his children really hate him to the core? As his phone rings, he doesn't even take a look at it a flings it into the bin. He turns and takes one last look at the Square and heads off to places unknown.

I have to say, this has been one of my favourite episodes! The script writing, the performances from everyone involved was absolutely incredible! EastEnders at it's absolute best! Where has Ian gone? the one thing that comes to my mind now is that people will instantly be asking questions to where Ian has fled? Max? Kathy? Peter and Bobby? Even Phil? People are going to be curious to his disappearance? Will Kathy blame Sharon? What is going to happen between Phil and Sharon now? Honestly, I really can't wait to see the aftermath of this episode, it's going to be really interesting that's for sure. I do have mention though that we have not seen the last of Ian. Adam Woodyatt has simply taken a well deserved break and will be back later in the year! From what I believe, I think there's going to be a massive twist which will see him return, but who knows what that's going to be?!

Overall a brilliant episode! Thank you all for reading, it really means the world! I really enjoyed reviewing this one. Thank you all for your on-going support. I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'll back very soon! Love you all xXx

[imagine-lcorp]

Use Somebody (One Shot)

Request

How about a post-season 4, where kara and lena have feelings for each other then to get back at kara for keeping her supergirl identity, lena rejects her and started dating reader but ends up really falling in love with the reader in the end. Reader gets at by Lena's ulterior motive. Angst with happy ending please. P.S. I really love your writings! :)

A/N: Okay guys, so furst of all I’m soo sooorry, I haven’t wirtten much, honestly October is like a pretty busy month for me but please know that I’m still around, trying to write and pretty much obssesing over Lena Luthor and Katie McGrath. Now, this little imagine was supposed to be angsty but it seems like my brain cannot function when writing angst so please forgive me because i think this is actually pretty bad but i did my best for you as always. Please let me know what you think, i hope you still like it and love y’all!!!!

Lena Luthor x  R//Word Count: 1,904

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

It was right after Lena broke the picture in her desk that she decided she had had enough. Enough lies, enough pretending, enough betrayal. Enough of a broken heart. So, when Kara visited her that morning to ask about her, Lena didn't hold back.

The confrontation couldn't have been more nerve wrecking for both of them. Lena didn't want to know anything about her anymore outside of what was strictly necessary. If Supergirl or the DEO needed her, she would comply and that was it. A courteous agreement for the greater good and to preserve the peace among them. It no longer mattered the reasons why Kara had kept her secret from her or how much she had claimed to care and love Lena. At the end of it all, Supergirl and Kara now fused in the same person, were confined to a corner in Lena's mind where a box with all she had made Lena feel once was sealed and left to never be opened again.

It had hurt Lena so deeply that she could only think how much she wanted her to hurt too, make her feel the same she was feeling. Wounded, hopeless, tired. A punishment to fit the crime.

Then you entered her office and she didn't know if it had been the alcohol or the way you looked at her from her door, so innocent and full of concern just like she used to.

"Sorry to bother you but I heard what happened. I thought you could use a friend."

"Thank you, (Y/N)." She smiled sadly at you. "I could definitely use one right now."

And so she did.

It was no secret that you had a crush on Lena, even she was pretty much aware to some extent about it, but you never made a move or showed more interest than it was necessary. There had always been a speck of hope that your friendship with her could became something else but you kept your distance on those matters.

But then Lena invited you on a date and then another and another, and date after date you tried to prove yourself more than just a good friend and someone she could trust.

When the Superfriends found out about you, they seemed relatively happy about it. Or most of them anyway.

You started to notice soon after the way Lena acted towards Kara. However, she never mentioned why it was like this and you also never questioned her about it. Their relationship was still in good terms as far as anyone could see. Lena had made sure of that. So not a single time it occurred to you that something was wrong. Or at least that was you said to yourself over and over and over.

The bites of tension every time Lena and Kara were in the same room. The way Kara kept her eyes on Lena trying to catch her attention, the extra politeness they dedicated to each other when their encounters were inevitable, and how Lena tried to stay on the other side of the room if Kara happened to be there too. Silly glances and coincidences that were made obvious in the was she tried too to stay close to you or showing a little more of affection if there were people around. If Kara was around.

Over and over you had convinced yourself it was due to the novelty of your relationship. How bad you wanted to be near each other, how in love you were with each other.

As the days with you passed, Lena started noticing a few things by herself. How little by little the ache and the sadness that had plagued her dissipated to shed some light on the new feelings nesting inside her heart.

At first, it was strange to realize thinking about Kara didn't hurt as much when you were around. You were by her side and on her side and that was more than enough at the end of the day, having one person to trust and love.

It was the careful, thoughtful way you cared for others and made them feel heard, the many things you liked and tried to share with her, the sound of your laugh when you found something funny on your phone, and the little quirks she had learned about you that were so you she couldn't imagine you without them. The way you looked at the world. The way you looked at her. All of you that helped her forget.

If only you had remained blind to real reason why Lena had choose you to stay by her side, it would have been enough for you too.

It was a Friday night, out with your friends and Lena that you finally found out. Between drinks and laughs and jokes and bad songs on the karaoke, you left Lena's side for a moment and headed to the bathroom. You hadn't notice Kara and Alex had gone there too.

"... this whole thing with (Y/N) and Lena, I know it's getting on your nerves." You heard Alex's voice before entering the bathroom and at the mention of your name you stopped.

"On my nerves?" Kara scoffed in response. "No, that's not what-" The sound of glass breaking made you jump a little.

"Well, you broke your drink." Alex remarked.

"Oh god, Alex, what am I suppose to do." Kara sounded tired. "They look like they are made for each other."

"I wouldn't go that far. I mean, do they look cute together? Kinda. Will that last? No. Why?"She pointed each question and answer and you frowned."It's obvious Lena has feelings for you. Why do you think she started dating (Y/N) in the first the place?"

"Because she hates me and is in love with someone else?"

"Because she's hurt." This was definitely something you didn't want to listen, but your feet had seemed to be glued to the ground. "From what I can see, this is Lena's rebound and I'm sorry (Y/N) had to be the one caught in the middle." You didn't listen to anything else after that.

No one could understand why you had left the bar in such a rush and neither did Lena until she called after you.

"(Y/N), wait!" You stopped dead in your tracks in the middle of the street at the sound of her pleading voice. It wasn't something you ever thought hearing from her. "Would you tell me what's going on?"

"Sure, I'll tell you what's going on." It was a second before the anger came back and you turned to face her. "Only if you tell me first, why did you ask me out the first time?"

She was taken aback for a moment at your question but took a couple of steps slowly towards you as if not scare you. "Because I like you (Y/N), why else would I-?"

"Are you sure it wasn't because you wanted to get at Kara?"

Lena didn't move. She couldn't. Because she knew there was truth in your words. So she let the silence fill the space between you before she was able to respond. Her answer was confirmation enough for you.

"It's not what you think."

"Not what I think?" You scoffed. "And what do I think, Lena? That this whole time I was only a piece you could use in your little game?"

"(Y/N), please, let me explain."

"What for?" Your voice kept rising at every word. "So we can keep pretending you had some kind of real interest in me? So I can keep making a damn fool of myself since I was the only one in lov-!"

You stopped yourself from finishing the final word as you felt your chest crumble and your voice break.

You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a ragged breath before looking back. "Did you even really cared?"

"(Y/N), I..." Yes, she had wanted to say. "I'm sorry." She said instead.

You swallowed trying to keep your voice from cracking. "Yeah, me too."

Lena couldn't seem to move anymore as you turned back and left. She realized too late she should have gone after you but the fear of rejection had made her stay behind.

She started calling soon after that, leaving messages, voice-mails, knocking on your door whenever she guessed you could be at home, only to find no answer. There was no reason to have an answer from you when all she had done was give you the same lies, the same pretense, and the same betrayal she had received from the person she used to love. A fitting punishment.

There were many times, however, when you had wanted to answer those calls. You would hear and read her messages over and over just to listen to her voice again. Although every time you listened to her you felt your heart grew heaver and heavier at every word. Because you loved Lena and it was impossible to you to understand how she was capable of playing you the way she did. You had believed every single word that came out of her mouth, not seeing the calculated moves and actions behind them. Or rather, you hadn't wanted to see them.

"(Y/N)." She called through your door one last time after many days she had spent trying to get a word from you. "I know I'm the last person you want to see ever again, but I want you to know that...I'm sorry."

"I was so angry and hurt by someone that I believed using someone else was a good idea to hurt them too. So, when you entered my office that day, my mind was already plotting vengeance. But you were so good with me, so caring and kind, that I started to forget why I had done all of it in the first place."

"I'm sorry." She repeated. "I love you, (Y/N), and I hope you can forgive me someday."

Lena pressed her forehead on your door and left out a defeated sigh not expecting it to open. She waited for a moment, her last hope of getting an answer.

She didn't receive any.

She turned to leave, finally accepting the fact that her mistake had been too great for you to ever forgive her. If it had been her on the other side of the door, she wouldn't have opened it either, she thought.

But then she heard the knob turning and the little squeak your door did every time when opening and she stopped herself one step from your door. She turned again to see you looking at her with a frown she couldn't quite read. It may have been anger, tiredness, confusion, a mix of all of those even, but when you spoke your voice was filled with concern. The same way you had looked at her that morning from a long time ago.

"You seem like you could use a friend." You said.

"Yeah." She swallowed. "I could use one."

Behind your door you had heard, her words so true that even when you couldn't see her you knew, that for everything she had said and done before there must have been something true. So you swung the door open wide and let her in once more, and that was enough.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI Rogers and Barnes Ch12: An Excelsior Turn Of Events

Part 1 Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Steve, Katie and Bucky head to Tony’s lab to find out what was on that Pen-Drive. Fury’s back, being Fury and then they discover some other stuff that’s gonna make you all go “arrrrrrgh!”

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Episode Pairings:  Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Song for Episode:  A Thousand Trees by Stereophonics

A/N: This is another LONG chapter guys, but there’s a LOT going down as we really are ramping up to blowing this popsicle stand (Or case…) Again we’ve split into 2 parts for you to read either all at once or separately, however you wish.

Oh, and we KNOW Steve was in a uniform here, and not a suit, but damned the only pics out there of the beautiful bastard in a police uniform are when he has that damned moustache (huh? you know I’m talking to you…) so, yeah, we used one of him in a suit because like who CARES?????

With a special birthday dedication to the handsome man himself, and of course the beautiful @jtargaryen18​

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

Series Master List  // Main Masterlist

It only takes one tree to make a thousand matches, only takes one match to burn a thousand trees

When Steve, Katie and Bucky arrived at the lab and entered the main room they found Banner, who was reading something on a computer screen while muttering something unintelligible.

"Good afternoon Bruce. Trouble experimenting?" Katie greeted the scientist.

"What? Oh… hi Katie." he stuttered as he stood up and approached her reaching his hand to greet her. "I was just.... I was just thinking I have to heat up the cube to 120 million Kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier." he explained absentmindedly fiddling with the reading glasses he had just taken off.

Katie looked at him puzzled. "The what?"

"Are you trying to achieve heavy ion fusion?" Bucky suddenly asked.

"Oh hi, Sergeant Barnes. Captain." Bruce greeted both men when he acknowledged their presence. "Yes, you could say that. Just on every reactor in the lab." he answered Bucky's question to what the Sergeant nodded knowingly.

"What just happened?" Steve whispered leaning over Katie who simply shrugged.

"Look, Bruce. We really need to speak to Tony. Is he in?" she asked.

"Oh sure. Yes, he's in his office. You know the way." he said pointing at one of the corridors with his glasses.

Steve and Katie nodded at the scientist before heading towards Tony's office. Bucky followed their steps after patting Bruce on the back and stating "I've read about your work in antielectron collisions. It is unparalleled."

Both Katie and Steve turned to look at Bucky giving him a questioning look.

"What? I do my readings." he shrugged as if it was something so obvious he couldn't be bothered explaining.

When they got to Tony's office, they could hear him talking to someone on the phone. His voice getting louder as Katie knocked on the door twice, before cracking it open just a bit. Tony looked up as she turned and gestured with her head for Steve and Bucky to follow he in.

"Of course you can quote me on that, I just said it." Tony waved, greeting them and signalling for them to take a seat as he finished talking on the phone. He surely wasn't amused by the person at the other end of the line, as he rolled his eyes continuously and sighed when he finally hung up.

"Sorry, that was the wedding planner. Told her to tell the man at the venue to go to hell..." he offered, while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Wedding planner?" Katie asked, surprised.

"Oh right, yeah, we've set a date..." Tony explained. "Maybe if you were home some time, I could have told you earlier." he added grabbing a foil packet from his desk as Katie rolled her eyes and took a breath at her brother’s snarky comment. Steve gently rubbed her back, signalling for her not to rise to his bait.

"Blueberries?"  Tony offered his guests. But they all refused with a nod of their heads, so he leaned his head back and

"Weddings are great" Bucky said with a huge grin. When he felt everybody staring at him, which was happening a lot that day, he added "As long as they're not yours..."

"You're invited Manchurian candidate and your Toy Boy " Tony snorted.

"What?" Bucky asked with a frown.

"Yeah, Doc is invited too..." Tony replied, a knowing smile spreading on his face.

Bucky was going to ask Tony what he was trying to imply when the landline on his desk started ringing.

"Sorry guys..." he apologised as he pressed the button to answer. "Stark...Yes, hold please..." and he pressed the button again.

"He likes to watch the light blink" Katie explained to Steve and Bucky who were looking at each other.

"Yup. Why are you guys here so late anyway?" Tony asked, sitting on his office chair.

"We need to speak to you, Tony..." Steve trailed off as Tony frowned.

"Oh God..." Tony looked at Katie "You're pregnant aren’t you..."

"What? No..." she protested.

But Tony ignored her, glaring at Steve instead "You knocked her up?"

"Not that strange an idea considering the amount of times they..." Bucky opened his big mouth to speak.

"Shut the fuck up Bucky!" both Katie and Steve shouted at the same time.

There was a pause as everyone fell silent.

"This is serious Tony..." Katie finally said.

"I went to see Fury today...." Steve helped her.

"Oh, how's the Goth Pirate doing?" Tony asked casually.

Bucky sniggered. He knew Howard had been close to Fury and therefore Tony and Katie had known and been around him since they were kids.

"For once in your life will you shut up and listen?" Katie was starting to lose her patience.

Bucky saw that Tony had noticed Katie's facial expression and frowned, suddenly concerned "What's the matter kiddo?"

"Fury gave me this..." Steve said, showing Tony the pen-drive.

"What's on it Cap?" Tony asked, looking between the Captain and the pen-drive on his hand.

"We don't know yet." Steve replied.

"Yet?"

"It's encrypted." Katie explained.

"So take it to tech..." Tony said leaning back on the chair and crossing his arms.

"When it arrived Fury opened it. Before the encryption started scrambling there was a clear message that it be handed to Katie and only Katie because it concerns..." Steve trailed off.

"It concerns stuff about Dad." Katie finished for him.

At that Tony frowned, not understanding where she wanted to get "Dad?"

"Yeah...Fury thinks... " Katie took a deep breath before continuing. "He thinks that mom and dad’s deaths might not have been accidental."

"That's absurd..." Tony frowned.

"Maybe, but until we open it we won't know..." Katie looked at him.

Tony took the stick and looked at it. "And there were no clues, nothing, zip, nada as to who sent it?"

"Nope. Might as well have been delivered by a ghost..." Katie sighed.

"Well, let's see what the ghost wants." Steve said with determination, nodding at the pen-drive.

Tony plugged the stick in and they all watched as the screen filled with a load of random numbers, which didn't seem to make much sense to any of them, nor did they appear to look like they were going to stop filling the screen randomly anytime soon.

Tony started talking about running an algorithm or something to crack it, much of the jargon he used was alien to Steve but he did remember what Fury had said about the message on the pen-drive, “My guess is it will be a date or a combination that means something to Stark.”  But so far Katie looked as lost as he was as she was staring at the screen intently frowning.

"This requires insight" Tony mused "It looks like the programme the CIA uses to choose targets."

"They look like random numbers to me." Bucky quipped leaning over Katie's and Tony's heads.

"They're not random...there's a pattern." Katie muttered without taking her eyes from the screen.

"Like what, what do they represent?" Tony asked, looking at her.

"They don't represent a thing...it's what's missing." Katie explained, borrowing a notepad and a pen from Tony's desk and scribbling something.

Steve frowned at what she said and then spotted what she was trying to say "There's no 6s or 1s..."

Tony and Bucky pointed at the same time "4s....0s..."

"Exactly..." Katie said, as she wrote down the different possible combinations with the missing numbers.

"What the hell..." Bucky asked, watching her stop at one combination as she drew a circle around it.

Katie simply grinned at him and looked at Tony, showing him the notepad "14.605..."

"What are the dots?" Bucky asked.

“A stuffed Llama…” Steve muttered and Bucky glared at him as he shrugged, a small smile flickering across his face.

“She’s not a llama she’s a goat…” Bucky started to argue until Katie shook her head.

"Whatever she is it doesn’t matter as they aren't dots, they’re zeros. Actually, it should read 14.605.000" she said looking at Bucky and then at Tony.

"Fuck, of course..." Tony said with eyes wide open as Bucky looked at Steve, who simply shrugged. He had no idea what that number meant but clearly it was significant to the siblings. Tony nodded at Katie "Go on, type the numbers."

Just as Katie had finished typing the last digit the numbers on the screen stopped moving and the image faded to black for a couple of seconds. Everyone in Tony's office was holding their breaths when a video recording started, showing a white haired old man with a wrinkled face, with a beard and a moustache. His eyes tiny and sparkling behind his smoking glass glasses.

"Do you know him?" Steve asked.

Katie shook her head slowly, looking at the screen while sweeping through her memories trying to find something that stated the contrary.

"Wait. I've seen that guy." Bucky intervened. " I just can't seem to figure out where from..." he mused.

"Miss Stark. Please listen carefully as following this message the drive will wipe. I knew your father, he was a good man and I'm hoping I can trust you like I trusted him. I've been watching the case from afar, hoping I was wrong but after the latest killings it all seems to be leading to one conclusion. We need to speak in person. You can contact me on the following number to arrange to meet but we have to be discreet....."

Katie grabbed a pen and rapidly scribbled down the number the man was showing on a piece of paper he was holding up to the camera with both hands.

"Take care Miss Stark, and trust no one...."

And with that, the screen went still and the drive wiped.

"So this adorable grandpa knew dad?" Tony asked.

"Apparently...is he from the police?" Katie asked, turning to look up at Steve.

"I don't know. I've never seen him, and I spent a lot of time with Howard" he replied as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"But I have...he's been at every crime scene to date...like some kind of dead famous actor or a series creator, you know, when they get to do cameos for fun..." Bucky suddenly quipped, everyone looking at him in disbelief.

"That told us nothing...I thought you said Fury told you it contained information?" Katie protested, looking at Steve, frowning.

Now she was snapping at him, but Steve didn't take it to heart. He knew she was pissed and he could understand where she was coming from. It had been an exhausting day for both of them but more to her and alone the fact that her parents could have been murdered was more than enough to rile her let alone everything else that had happened. To say she had the right to be angry and frustrated would be an understatement.

"He did, that's what he thought..." Steve replied cautiously.

"I mean we don't even know who the fuck he is!" she snapped again.

Steve was about to say something to appease her anxiety but just as he squeezed her shoulder Bucky spoke.

"One way to find out, Doll face..." he interjected. “Call him."

So Katie picked up the phone on Tony's desk. Steve, Bucky and Tony looked at her expectantly but Katie frowned as soon as she put the earpiece close to her ear  "Yeah, he'll call you back..." she told the person who had been on hold all that time before pressing the button to finish the call.

"Oh, shit...I  forgot...I like the red light..." Tony apologised. Steve saw Katie take a deep breath before calling the number and putting the call on speaker. As soon as it picked up a robotic voice said "Meet me tomorrow, 2pm at Green-Wood Cemetery. Bring no one but the Captain."

The recording finished and only white noise could be heard. Katie slammed her hand against the button to end the call. She was about to explode, Steve could tell as she stood up straight and tried to call the number again, but nothing came from the other end of the line.

"Burner." Steve sighed. "Chances are he's destroying it as we speak." he said hugging her from behind and placing a kiss on her head.

"FUCK!" Katie yelled, slamming the handset down. "We know nothing more than we did before!"

"Ok Kiddo, I want you to go home and rest. There's nothing else you can do now." Tony tried to calm her. "Are you coming with me tonight or shall I rent your room to someone else?" he continued, testing the waters with his joke.

"Right, coz you're definitely running a bed and breakfast." she repeated the same exact words Tony had been bugging her with for the past week.

"Well, it's not like I see much of you lately. Not even managed to tell you all about how I’m having a civil war with the venue guy or that we set a date yet" Tony whined. "Come on, Pepper will be thrilled to share the details with you. Although I'm warning you, you may need to put your shades on to look at the new rock I bought her."

“You bought her a new rock?” Bucky frowned “Why would you do that?” “Because it was a few years old and…well we should have set a date ages ago so I kinda re-proposed…”

"And that's my brother for you, ladies and gentlemen." Katie snorted. “Ostentatious bastard…” “Don’t start snapping at me!” Tony looked at her, his own temper flaring slightly “Look, I’m as pissed as you are, especially if this guy has information on mom and dad, they were my parents too you know…” “Oh get to fuck Tony!” Katie snarled “You’re such a-“ “Ok, ok…” Steve said, stepping in quickly before the pair of them really went at each other. They were so different yet in other ways extremely similar, and both had developed that infamous Stark temper from Howard, along with his stubborn streak, which made for some spectacular brother-sister arguments as he had seen many a times over the past decade. But now wasn’t the time. They were going to need each other, and he didn’t want them at odds. He turned to Katie, his hands falling to her shoulders "Tony's right, doll. Go home. Spend some time with Tony and Pepper. It'll do you good." he encouraged, trying not to push too much.

Steve knew she was restless enough as it was but, although he'd be more than glad to spend the night with her at his place, he also knew being with her family would be a perfect distraction for her already distraught mind. God, it was only half past six but he had the feeling his meeting with Fury had been weeks ago. Could anything more happen in a day?

Steve saw Katie hesitate and decided to help Tony out. He knew the man needed his sister as much as she needed him.

"Look, we can't do anything more until tomorrow, sweetheart, you should go..." Steve said, taking both her hands in his.

She bit her lip and looked at him until Tony spoke.

"Cap, you can come too...if you want." he shrugged, sensing Katie's hesitancy.

"YESSSSS BOY!" Bucky suddenly shrieked with joy at the fact he had the apartment to himself as he fist pumped in the air but a second later he stilled, pouted and jokingly asked "What about me?"

"Go to the mortuary or something, I dunnno, wherever you and Sam...." Tony deadpanned, waving his hand. "And for fucks sake stop eating my blueberries!"

"Erm, are you sure Tony?” Steve asked. In all honesty he was taken aback by Tony's offering, was that an olive branch? Well, if it was, he would be more than happy to take it as the prospect of spending his free time away from Katie was really not all that great.

Tony shrugged “Well you two are…you know, together. And I suppose you’re better than Shitweasel…”

“Yeah as far as bars go, that’s not particularly high…” Katie frowned. Tony glared at her and Steve once more jumped in.

“Well, that would be great " he nodded, “It’ll be nice to spend some time with you and Pepper. I just need to nip home first thought and get some stuff..."

"Like you need clothes." Tony scoffed, earning a glare from Katie and a snigger from Bucky which  made him turn to look at him again "I told you to stop eating my blueberries, Robocop!"  

Steve rolled his eyes "I'm not sitting all night in my uniform."

"Yeah, as long as you don't sit on my sister." Tony muttered.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking out loud." Tony brushed him off. "See if I could find something in my closet that fitted you. But then again it might not be spangly enough for your liking”

**** "What a sight for sore eyes, young lady." Pepper teased Katie as soon as they walked into the apartment.

They had dropped Bucky at the flat earlier and Steve had changed into a more casual and less conspicuous outfit and  grabbed his overnight bag, one he would have never in a million years imagined he would be taking to Tony's. Katie's car remained back at Sarah's. Seeing the events of the day they had decided it would be better if she didn't drive. They would sort that out the next day, after meeting their new informant.

"You only saw me on Friday, remember?" Katie protested as she hugged her brother's fiancé.

"You're right. And from what I've heard a lot of things have happened since then. Hi, Steve." Pepper said before moving to hug Steve, who greeted her back.

"You could say that." Tony said, entering the living room. "But the prodigal son, sorry daughter, returns. Much to her brother's joy."

"Oh, cut the crap Tony. I saw her on Friday! It’s only Wednesday!" Katie glared at her brother.

"Don't mind him and make yourselves at home." Pepper said, inviting them to take a seat on the couch. "I'll take your bag to Katie's room." she offered Steve, who handed her the bag after thanking her. He had always liked Pepper and how easily she could handle Tony.

"Drinks?" Tony asked. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. In the meanwhile... Gin, Kiddo?"

"Always." Katie answered.

"Rogers?" he asked, looking at Steve as he prepared Katie's drink.

"I'll have a beer, thanks." he answered, trying to suppress the feeling of awkwardness of being at Tony's as his sister's boyfriend.

"Somebody told me you had a big blinding rock to show me." Katie told Pepper as soon as the woman was back in the living room.

"You know your brother. He likes to push the boat out." she said stretching her hand for Katie to look at the ring.

"It's an exclusive cut. The Infinity Stone." Tony boasted.

Steve looked at Katie and he could instantly tell she really couldn't be less interested, instead she rolled her eyes at her brother's bragging. She made a comment about it being very big, more out of courtesy than because she really liked those flashy pieces of jewellery, Steve knew she wouldn't like anything so gaudy. Wait, why was he thinking about that? He tried to wipe the image of his mother telling him about the ring out of his mind and focus on the conversation Katie, Tony and Pepper were engaged in.

"So, you finally set the date?" Katie asked the couple, who grinned at her excitedly.

"Yup. 20th December. Pepper wanted a Christmas wedding." Tony explained.

"That is not entirely true, Tony" Pepper protested. "I wanted for us to get married as soon as possible and your brother suggested we could do it right before Christmas." she explained to Katie.

"Well, that's certainly sooner than I expected." Steve said.

"Well, if I don't kill the wedding planner and the venue dude before, we'll have a Christmas wedding. It will be like Christmas but with more me." Tony smirked.

"You know, guys, I can't be living with you when you're married...I appreciate you putting me up but I need to think about what I'm gonna do seriously." Katie spoke softly, turning her eyes to Tony.

"What do you mean, Kiddo?" her brother asked

"You guys are gonna be newlyweds.” She smiled “You should be building your home together, you won’t need me here.” “Kiddo, you’ll always-“ “I know, I know Tony…” she smiled at him “But, I was saying to Steve before, the lease on my apartment in DC is up in a few weeks...I'm not sure I'm gonna renew." she explained.

"You’re not gonna go back to DC?" Tony was now frowning.

"Not until this case is solved and we have no idea when that's gonna be." she said looking at Steve who shook his head.

"But you could cancel that lease and then need to be back there a week later."  Steve looked at her. "I told you, just leave it as is and come stay with me."

Steve didn't know why but he could tell Katie was hesitant about it. And then back up came from the most unlikely source in the entire Universe.

"That's not a bad idea..." Tony mused as Steve looked at him with an expression of utter shock on his face. "You wanted that role in DC so badly...you'll kick yourself if you don't go back...give it till Christmas. If this is still going on...then you can make a decision as to whether you stick with it or go back." Tony told his sister.

"And then we have the added complication that I can’t stick with it and be under Steve's command when we’re together, it's against regulations. So we’re either stuck as a secret for fuck knows how long, or I go back to DC or I have to find another precinct." Katie sighed, rubbing her forehead.

Steve could see she was getting worked up again as she was rambling and decided to calm her down. "Ok, look, let's tackle this one problem at a time ok? You got a few weeks yet. I told you, you're welcome to come stay with me Sweetheart."

"Aww. That's so sweet Steve." Pepper spoke this time. "You're so cute together. Are you seeing them, Tony?" she asked her fiancé.

"Yup. Seeing, still working on believing." Tony wise cracked. "Yet, I must say if dad could see them he'd be jumping for joy. He always wanted you to end up with golden boy here, Kiddo."

Steve rolled his eyes at Tony's comment, but he was indeed very pleased to hear he would have had Howard's approval. Not only was he Katie's father but his mentor and the man he had always looked up to, considering his own father had passed away when he was still a baby.

Katie was looking a little upset again, clearly thinking about her dad and the possibility he could have been murdered so Steve decided to change tactic a little and asked something he had been dying to ask since they left the office, but for some reason had forgotten about.

"So, I'm curious...the number 14605...how did you know what order the missing digits had to be in?"

He saw Katie grinned before answering "Oh, it’s a number dad used to quote all the time..."

"14 million, six hundred and 5..." Tony offered

Steve was now utterly lost “I'm not..."

"When I was 4 I asked Dad how many stars there were in the sky. He said 14 million, six hundred and 5...just a random number, but I believed him. It was only when I got older I realised he had just made it up, and then it became a bit of a joke." she explained, her green eyes sparkling again at the childhood memory of his father.

"Yeah, like when dad asked how many times he had to ask you to tidy your room before you would do it..." Tony quipped.

"14 million, 605..." Katie finished, grinning widely.

"And like when mom asked how many eggs dad wanted on his breakfast..." Tony started again.

"14 million 605..." she repeated.

"How many dresses you tried on for prom..." Tony continued and the siblings smiled to one another for an only answer.

"All right, dinner must be almost ready. I'll go and check it" Pepper cut in.

"Right. Good to go on this end. The rest is up to you." Tony told her as he sat up and waved for Katie and Steve to follow him to the dining room.

Following their dinner, they retired to the large lounge in Tony’s penthouse, the 4 of them chatting and sharing another bottle of wine. Well, 3 of them chatting as Steve noticed that as the night ran on Katie was participating less and less. She’d clammed up, gone in on herself as she often did when something was bothering her. Tony had noticed too as Steve caught him looking at his sister more than once with a concerned expression on his face. Eventually she stood up and said she was tired and heading to bed. Steve agreed, eagerly considering he too was whacked and they bid Pepper and Tony a good night and headed down to the spare room, or Katie’s room as it now was.

“C’mere…” Steve said to her gently as she shuffled down under the soft duvet. She sank into his arms, snuggling into his chest as his hand gently ran through her hair, his lips pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She stayed silent for a moment and then he felt her shoulders beginning to shake as her soft sobs hit his ears. With a sigh he turned onto his side, brushing her hair back off her face. “Hey, look at me.”

She raised her eyes to his and he placed a soft kiss on her lips. “We’ll work this out sweetheart I promise”

“You don’t know that.” she shook her head “You can’t make promises that you don’t know you can keep Stevie…” “Well, I promise I’m gonna do everything I can to make this ok.” he appeased, wiping her cheeks with his thumbs “Trust me.” “I do, you know I do.” she sniffled “I trust you with my life but…how is any of this ever going to be ok?”

“Let’s see what our mystery guy has to say first.” he said gently “It could just be a load of conjecture and…” “I don’t believe coincidences Steve, not on stuff like this, you know that.”

Steve merely sighed and fell silent, unable to think of anything else to say he simply pulled her closer, his legs tangling with hers as she pressed her face into his bare chest. He ran his hand softly up and down her back underneath the shirt she was wearing, his chin resting on her head.

He lay away long after the events of the day lulled his girl into an exhausted sleep.

**** The next morning Katie and Steve arrived together at the station. They had gone to Tony's in Steve's car the previous night and besides there was no point in even trying to deny they were together though they still had to be careful to not be touching or doing anything that wasn't keeping a professional front.

Katie went straight to her computer. Steve had talked her into ignoring Wanda as they drove in. They’d had enough having to put up with Tony's snarky comments during breakfast about them sharing a bed under his roof.

He tried to keep verbal exchanges with Wanda to a minimum. It hadn't been difficult, the redhead had handed him his mail without even looking him in the eye and had basically sat behind her desk without engaging in conversation with anyone, which was very out of character. Tension really could be felt in the air.

Clint and Nat just said hi, nothing more, no sassy remarks or interrogation of any sort. Steve was definitely getting more nervous by the minute, but tried to brush it out of his mind as he entered his office and closed the door behind him.

"Briefing will be interesting today." Bucky turned to Katie.

"I don't think I can be in that room with the bitch." Katie whispered, nodding in Wanda's direction.

"Thanks for the money." Natasha said, startling Katie.

"Fuck, Nat. Where did you learn to be that stealthy, in the KGB?" Katie asked, still trying to catch her breath.

Natasha laughed and explained to her the little bet she had with Clint about who would blow cover first and that she had won, twice.

"I should be surprised you know but I’m not. Nothing gets past you two" Katie shrugged as she nodded at Clint, who was having an argument with someone on the phone about a pile of logs that needed cutting.

They all waited for Barton to finish his call before going to the kitchen for coffee and a few minutes later Thor appeared, with his characteristic “Greetings, Morons.”

"I bet he can smell coffee from three blocks down the street." Clint quipped, opening the cupboard to grab a packet of pop tarts for the police officer.

“So I see it is out about you and the captain.” he said, grinning widely at Katie.

“Good news travels fast." Katie muttered.

Bucky at that moment thanked God that Wanda wasn't in the kitchen.

“I knew on Monday.” Thor informed as he shrugged.

Katie glared at Clint and Nat. Bucky flinched. Nat had assured him the bet was only between her and Clint and they hadn't told anyone.

“We didn’t tell him…” Nat protested.

“No one told me.” Thor said, “I figured it out.”

Not that was rich, Bucky thought. How the fuck can the bungalow have figured it out by himself. So he decided to ask. “How?”

“Oh the Captain’s doodles on his briefing notes.” Thor shrugged “Changed from random little shapes to stars…and we know that’s his little nickname for you…he did buy you that necklace after all…”

Bucky saw Katie’s hand fly to the silver star shaped pendant around her neck, her mouth hanging open slightly.

“You clever bastard…you should be a detective.” Bucky snorted.

“No, I prefer the action. We get a lot more fights on the front line…and you know how I love fighting…” Thor said, after laughing loudly.

"And here I was thinking Banner was the smartest person I knew. Just yesterday I was telling him..." Bucky started but couldn't finish as Thor cut him in, excitedly.

"Aw, good old Banner. How's he doing? I tell everyone I know him. Hey, he's a friend from work. That's what I tell them." Thor rambled just before his phone beeped.

They all saw him grunt at the name on the screen of his phone “I am sick of this” he mumbled before dialling a number angrily.

"Noobmaster. Hey, it's Thor again. Listen bud, if you don't drop this immediately, I'm gonna fly down to your house, come down to that basement you're hiding in rip off your arms and shove them up your butt!"

They all looked at him dumbfounded as he finished the call and, without further explanation, put his phone in his pocket again and bit a pop tart.

"Are you ok?" Clint said, squeezing Thor's shoulder.

"Yes. I'm fine. Why?" he asked "Why, don't I look all right?"

At that he paused, reached for his phone and pulled a face. "Sorry. Heimdall got a message for me. Erm, Fury is here." he informed.

Then, all of a sudden, Bucky saw Thor vanish as quickly and suddenly as he appeared. It was almost as if some magic beam from another world transported him in and out.

Exchanging glances they all hurried into the office and true to word, Fury was there.

“I swear Heimdall sees everything…” Natasha mumbled, and they all agreed.

Fury nodded to everyone before calling Katie over.

"Stark, may I have a word with you? In your Captain's office?" Fury asked her.

"Yes, Sir." Katie answered softly.

Bucky saw her looking at him, puzzled, before following Fury to Steve's office but he could only shrug. Then Bucky noticed Wanda was going bright red and he glared at her as the door of Steve’s office shut

“What did you do?” he asked. He was fuming.

But Wanda shrugged and simply turned back to a file cabinet she was sorting. Bucky, Clint, Nat exchanged a glance.

"Oh shit…"

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

Continued in Part 2

[ohmightydevviepuu]

our little life (rounded with a sleep) / chapter 6

our little life (rounded with a sleep) chapter six

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful detective. She had blonde hair, green eyes, no family, and she was good at finding people; in fact, she proclaimed this on her office door. “Swan and Humbert,” it said. “Private investigations, missing persons, and bail bonds.”

Only lately, she’s been thinking that maybe it should say “Emma Swan: Loner, Loser, Complicated wreck.”

Her partner’s been killed on a case after she made a deal with her landlord to find what had been taken from him. But when she tracks a possible perp to a bar on the outskirts of town, Emma will find out exactly how deep the rabbit hole goes.

--

@thisonesatellite had a lot of feedback on this chapter (spoiler:  it involved a lot of screaming).  also, take this leap with me, friends:  as i saw in the notes i made for @captainswanbigbang, this is officially where we leave the realm of anything previously written for this story and begin our inexorable journey toward the end.  we are halfway through!  i am very excited about this and hope that you are, too!

for @profdanglaisstuff and @katie-dub, just because.

--

cw: canonical character death rating: T/M (implied violence, language) word count:  ~4.5k AO3  chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

--

chapter summary:   Emma confronts Hook--Killian Jones--just, whatever the fuck his name is. Twice.   Neither of those is what Hook might call a ‘pleasant conversation’--and Henry was right:  Emma is not ready for the answers she gets.

She’s also not ready for the way her breath hitches and the world contracts when she stands in Hook’s office, his hand on her wrist and his eyes blazing as he calls her ‘princess’ like that is a curse in itself.

-- 

Emma banged on the door of The Rabbit Hole. The front door this time; no lock picks necessary, though she reconsidered this approach when it took awhile for the door to open. She was greeted by a petite blonde with a messy topknot and a pinned-on name tag (“Tink”) who looked singularly unimpressed when Emma asked to see Hook.

“He warned us you might be coming by,” Tink said. “We’re not meant to let you in.”

“Fine,” Emma sighed. “Then I’m here for, like, pixie dust or whatever.”

“I’m fresh out,” Tink deadpanned, rolling her eyes as Emma pushed through. “And I don’t think he especially wants to see you.”

In the daylight, the vintage air lent by the Edison bulbs was absent, leaving only the sense of grime. A man--by the looks of him, Hook’s companion from the alley the night of Graham’s murder--was stocking shelves and stacking glasses while shouting orders at a small, ratty-looking man in a red cap. The singer worked on some equipment on the small stage, humming to herself, and Emma tried not to listen as the feeling of subtle unease rolled through her in discordant harmony with the song.

Lacey, she of the stilettos and the t-shirt with the cascading auburn hair, was nowhere to be seen.

She’s new. The maid won’t help you kill Rumplestiltskin.

Emma shook her head and wended her way toward the office, past the restroom and the entrance to the small kitchen along the route she had taken the night before--how had it been only the night before?--following the faint sound of conversation she could hear leaking into the hallway.

“--matters grew complicated.” Hook’s voice stopped Emma in her tracks, and she paused by the door of the restroom so that she could eavesdrop. “Honestly, the details of the affair are a bit of a bore.”

“I doubt that,” a woman’s voice said. “I would imagine running off with the Swan girl--the Savior, Hook--and alerting my daughter would be anything but a bore. And while I would love to know why you thought either of those things was a good idea, you know that’s an unacceptable betrayal.”

“Come off it,” Hook snapped. “Our agreement--”

“I’ve crossed through too many worlds to be brought up short on the brink of success,” the woman cut him off. “I don’t have time for whatever game you think you’re playing.”

“You think that I don’t comprehend what the stakes are here?”

“Your actions,” the woman said, “would certainly suggest otherwise.”

“Rest assured, it won’t happen again.”

“No,” the woman agreed. “It won’t. You chose her. Now you can face the consequences of that decision.”

Emma ducked into the restroom and only just got the door shut as she heard someone, presumably Cora Hart, walk by. She counted ten and added another ten just to make sure before stepping back into the hallway and into Hook’s office.

His shirt, the same one from last night, was wrinkled and untucked, though he had discarded his waistcoat and the sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, exposing the brace on his left wrist and a flash of ink that must have been a tattoo. His hair had gone from artfully mussed to full-on mess and he needed to trim his beard back. Hook was pouring himself a drink--the rum bottle again--and drank it off quickly before pouring another.

He saw Emma as he was lifting the glass for round two; Emma watched his expression darken into something twisted and hurt. He put the glass down, turned, bent, and pulled out another glass, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge her as he poured a third shot into the clean glass and pushed it toward her.

“I generally prefer not to drink my breakfast,” Emma said, but she took the few steps forward to the desk anyway.

“Drink with me, Swan,” Hook said, his eyes flashing blue murder, “or get the hell out.” His mouth twitched upward in a harsh facsimile of his real smile. “I’m recovering from a trauma, don’t you know. In all of the times I’ve been condemned to the brig, I’ve never before been force-fed bologna.”

“You do look like shit,” Emma said, raising her glass in a toast.

“Whereas you, darling,” Hook said, “look stunning.” He drank the rum and Emma flinched, glad the glass in her hands kept her from reaching self-consciously for her flattened curls or rubbing under her eye for stray liner. The tone of his voice was deadly and Emma had never before heard an endearment sound so much like an epithet. Emma moved the glass to her lips, grateful for the burn of the liquor down her throat.

Grateful for his anger and grateful for the proof that she had been treating their acquaintance--connection--like more than it was.

She concentrated on the burn and ignored her awareness of the very fact that his anger, and his hurt, was proof that their connection was--had been--real.

“It was a mistake,” Emma said, but he didn’t let her say anything else.

“Is that what you want to call it?” He snorted, and reached for the rum bottle. Again.

“Well, I tried to call it ‘Al’,” Emma said, starting to feel her temper rise. “But it would only answer to ‘mistake’.”

Emma was trying to figure out what had happened to Graham.

Nothing else.

She was not a believer. She was not a parent. She was not interested in being part of something.

There was no future here; not a happy one, at any rate.

Consider it a reminder.

Her hand went involuntarily to the chain around her neck. “You would have done the same,” she said, and knew it was a lie.

Look out for yourself and never get hurt.

“Actually, princess,” he said, his eyes following her hand, “I believe in good form. I had no need to bring you there at all, much less hurt my own cause to do so.”

Consider it a reminder.

“Fuck you, Jones,” Emma said, and cursed herself when his eyes flickered.

“‘Killian’ will do,” he said. “I see that you had a busy night after leaving me to the tender mercies of your constabulary.”

“I came to apologize,” Emma said sharply, “and to give you this.” She started to pull at the chain around her neck, but at the stricken look that flashed across his face, put her glass on the desk and lifted it with both hands, the ring cradled in her palm.

“Well done, Swan,” Hook said. “Wouldn’t you make one hell of a pirate?” His voice was now completely emotionless, which was somehow worse than the undercurrent of malice that had been there a moment ago. “Perhaps you’re the one who should have been locked up.”

Emma dropped the ring into his outstretched hand. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“It was my brother’s,” he said, his voice still flat; he didn’t even bat an eyelash at her confession. “I’ve had it for--a very long time.” His fingers curled around the tarnished silver. “I think it might be the reason I’m still alive, this reminder that I once had a family.”

Emma felt the blood draining from her face and took another sip of the rum to cover it up.

“What else did you find, princess?” The word was practically a snarl. “My elder brother, Liam? My dead lover, Milah? The crusade for vengeance that carried me for nearly three hundred years?”

“Don’t call me that,” Emma said.

“Can’t handle it, Swan?” That verbal tic of his was back in full force as he landed hard on the ‘t’. “But it’s true, princess, all of it. For more years than you can imagine, I offered a black heart or an ugly death to everyone that I met, and I did it with a song in my heart--without conscience, and without remorse, because I had been done wrong.”

“Like Cora Mills?” Emma said. “Or is it Cora Hart? Either way, she seems to be in pretty good shape for a dead woman.”

“A busy night, indeed,” he murmured.

“You don’t exactly strike me as the musical type,” Emma said.

“Think, Swan,” he said. “You’ve obviously figured some things out. Think about every evil act attributed to me, every sin that has been laid at my door.” His voice was quietly terrifying, but Emma was not going to back down. “Recite to yourself my catalogue of cruelties and consider if you really want to provoke me right now.”

Emma walked to the desk and reached for the rum bottle.

He stopped her, his right hand wrapped around her wrist. The metal of the ring pressed into her and she shivered.

“I came here by choice, Swan. I am one of the few who did, though I was played just as surely as any of the poor sods who were brought here against their will. Only I was given a gift: To wake up, for twenty-eight years, and not dread the day before it began. To live the same day, over and over, and to welcome it, because I felt like someone alive.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. And she was not prepared for how quickly Hook--Jones--closed the gap between them.

“You’re a liar,” he said.

“Captain Hook is calling me a liar,” Emma said, feeling the color rising again in her cheeks. “What happened to ‘the mystique is part of my charm’?”

“No, princess,” he said. “Killian Jones is calling you a liar.” He took another step forward, further crowding her personal space.

And he had not let go of her wrist.

“Vengeance is a siren’s song as much as any other,” he said, and Emma could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. “But my constant pursuit of revenge--for the death of the crocodile--left my life empty. That’s the thing about revenge, you see: it’s an end, not a beginning.”

Emma looked into his eyes and saw all of the despair of a lost little boy who had never mattered, and who believed he never would. She did not hold his gaze. She already had a mirror.

“Your arrival in our little corner of the world was enough to trigger the protection spell I had traveled under; the arrival of the Savior, come to break the curse, and suddenly I remembered all that had come before. I had been living in a dream powered by magical nonsense. I’d had a life, and friends, and lovers, and none of it was real.”

“And a brother,” Emma murmured, and the shock of him dropping her wrist was almost worse than his grip on it had been.

“Do not misunderstand me, princess,” he said. “Your arrival reminded me of my purpose, but I cared not one whit whether this curse ever broke. And then--”

He tilted his head, angling it down and toward her. “You,” he said. He was so close, Emma could almost grab his collar and make the space between them nonexistent. His eyes flashed as he said: “Why didn’t you come for me last night? Why did you turn on me?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t believe in any of this. I just need to find out what happened.”

“Liar,” he breathed, his lips just over hers. “I should thank you, Swan, for reminding me what I’m all about. And if you want to pretend that all of this isn’t happening, that’s fine. I don’t dance, anyway.”

Liar, Emma thought, watching him take one step backward and then another. He settled his weight on the desk, one leg crossed over the other, his arms folded across his chest, the chain dangling against the fabric of his shirt.

“Now,” Hook said, his expression flipping to one of complete disinterest. “If you’re going to apologize, don’t be afraid to, you know, really get into it.”

“Fuck you, Jones,” she said again.

“Alas, princess,” he said, every syllable dripping with disdain and disappointment, “the time for that is done. Just as I have done--with you.”

--

Only after she had left The Rabbit Hole did Emma realize she still had the folded parchment in her back pocket.

--

“Miss Swan,” Mr. Gold greeted her, the small but satisfied smile on his face immediately making Emma uncomfortable. “I wanted to thank you for a job well-done.”

“Mr. Gold,” Emma said, confused, “I--”

Then Emma saw it--the small object on the desk in his office: white, delicate-looking--if the chip in it was anything to judge by. A teacup.

A freaking teacup.

“I must say I was quite impressed by your efforts at tracking, Miss Swan, once you finally put your mind to it. But then again, Humbert has always been known for his ability to, shall we say, hunt down those who wish to remain hidden.”

“Happy hunting, dearie.” The Hunter. “ You kissed the Hunter, Swan.”

“How was my old friend, I wonder? Surprised to see you?”

“I was under the impression that you and he were not friends,” Emma said cautiously.

“I don’t believe he is capable of having friends,” Gold said simply, “but then again, neither am I. ‘Enemies’ might be a better term, if one were being dramatic.” He giggled, and the sound of it was heavy in the air. “Mortal enemies, one might say.”

“Thank goodness we’re not being dramatic.”

“As you can see,” Gold continued, “I have retrieved my property thanks to your efforts and so there is only the matter of payment left between us.” He smiled. “For now.”

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a roll of cash. “I trust this will be sufficient for your time.”

Hating herself, Emma took it.

Gold folded his hands on top of his desk and looked at her, still smiling.

Emma opened her mouth to speak and then changed her mind, closing it.

The man in the animal coat, the one with the skin that seemed to glitter. In his hand was something small and white and he carried it as though it were both delicate and valuable.

“Crocodile,” Emma whispered.

The smile faltered--just for a moment. “Ah,” he said, as if that was an answer to a question.

“He’s Awake, Regina. And you’d have been stupid not to realize it the instant you saw what he did to Humbert.”

“You did it,” Emma said. “It was you. You killed Graham.”

Gold tilted his head. “Miss Swan,” he said carefully. “I understand that the loss of your partner must have been difficult for you. But I was given to understand that Mr. Humbert endured some type of physical attack. And I, well--” he paused. “I prefer small weapons: the needle, the pen, the fine points of a deal.”

It sounded so reasonable.

But it was not a denial.

All of it is because of Regina Mills and Robert Gold.

“Why are you doing this?” Emma asked. “Why did you do this, when you knew--you knew Regina had your ‘precious object.’ You wanted me to go after Hook. Everything I’ve done since Graham died is exactly what you wanted me to do.”

“Oooooh,” he smirked. “Such hostility.” His hand toyed absently with the cane propped up against his desk. “And yet you saw with your own eyes the first time in this world I’d ever laid eyes on Regina Mills. Your finding James Hook was the first time I’d ever heard the name.”

“You created the curse, didn’t you? You set all of this into motion?”

“Really, Miss Swan,” Gold said. “You’re quite emotional, dearie, but this isn’t over yet.”

“Not yet, dearie. Not yet.”

“I couldn’t in my wildest dreams understand what notions have gotten into your head,” he said. “But it sounds like something out of a book of fairytales. Perhaps you would be better off discussing it with young Master Mills.”

The gold tooth glinted as he said it.

Emma shifted her weight, uncomfortable in the chair, and the piece of folded parchment fluttered to the floor. Gold, moving more quickly than she would have imagined, bent over to pick it up, smoothing it open as he did so.

“Ah,” he said again, though it was a pained sound this time. “Now where did you get this?”

“Seeing as our business is concluded,” Emma said, holding her hand out, “I don’t see how that is any of yours.”

Tucking the drawing back into her pocket, she turned and left the room.

--

Henry was sitting in the small courtyard outside the diner as Emma walked by, a quiet Liam Jones--Hook--sitting next to him and sipping on a cup of tea. Emma tried again to give him his book back, only--

The tattoo is just proof.

“Oh, yeah,” Henry said when she asked him, flipping happily through the pages until he got to an illustration of a tall blonde man brandishing a sword and shield, the sigil rendered in broad, clean strokes.

A lion rampant.

On a field of buttercups.

“Thats Prince Charming’s sign,” Henry explained. “Why do you ask?”

Emma pulled her sleeve down so that it covered her wrist and “No reason,” she lied.

Liam watched her as she did it, a mixture of curiosity and hostility on his face, until she tried to meet his eyes. Then his face was pleasantly bland in a mask that he unquestionably had learned from his brother.

Now Emma’s head rested on her crossed arms at the counter at Granny’s, her hot chocolate getting cold and her grilled cheese untouched on the plate as her fingers rubbed across the shoelaces tied around her wrist and covering the tattoo.

“It’s part of your father’s heraldry.”

With the yelling and the tension of it all she hadn’t even gotten to ask Jones--Hook--why the fuck he had a picture of her son in his lockbox.

Like something out of a book of fairytales.

And Gold--what did he know about Henry?

What if--

If Hook--If Henry--

If they were telling the truth, then she had to come up with a way to get Henry out of this place.

“You know my mom’s the Evil Queen.”

Emma sat up, nearly knocking the plate over. Just--

“Emma!” David’s tone was frantic, his voice raised to get her attention.

“So you’re talking to me now?” Emma said.

“I need to find Snow,” he said. “She’s missing, but I will find her. I will always find her.” He looked at her seriously. “Will you aid me?”

“I thought your wife’s name was Kathryn,” Emma said, “but color me not at all surprised that you had more than one side-piece.”

David looked affronted. “Kathryn?” he asked. “I know of no one named Kathryn. Snow White is my True Love. I’ve known it ever since--”

“You first saw your mother’s ring on her finger?” Emma asked.

True Love. "I’m pretty sure that Sheriff Nolan is Prince Charming.”

“Indeed,” he said. “That was when I knew I would never love another woman.”

“Very cute, Charming,” she said.

“I have a name, you know,” he said, but something about it made him smile. “You’re so much like her.”

Emma tried to get up and leave but his hand wrapped around her bicep. She grabbed his wrist and found not a hand, but the silver metal of a hook. The hook was where his left hand should have been and Emma looked up, already knowing what--who--she would see.

“I don’t mean to upset you,” Hook said, “but we make quite the team, Emma.”

“Emma!”

Someone was shaking her shoulder.

“Emma!”

She opened her eyes; it was David.

“Emma,” he said, “have you seen--”

She was still sitting at the counter at Granny’s--her hot chocolate was ice cold now and her grilled cheese congealed into something inedible. Emma shook her head and tried to orient herself.

“Mary Margaret,” Emma said slowly. “You’re looking for Mary Margaret.”

“Yes,” David said. “I haven’t seen her since--well, I think something might be wrong.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Emma said, signalling to Granny for a cup of coffee and adding, “in a to-go cup, please.” She turned back to David and said: “You broke her heart, David, what else do you need from her?”

“I can’t find her anywhere,” David said, his eyes pleading.

Granny came back over with the coffee and Emma stood up to take it.

“Listen, you need to leave her alone,” Emma said. “You fucked up, Nolan, and--”

“Can you please just--” he took a deep breath, running his hand over his hair. “Can you look for her? Please?”

Emma paused, her jacket halfway on, and looked at him. “Yeah,” she said. “Whatever.” She waved at him dismissively and went through the door, the bell above announcing her departure.

She stood on the front step, taking a sip of her coffee, wanting to shrug it off.

All of it--everything.

Emma Swan was not a believer.

She sighed. She didn’t need her lie-detecting superpower to know when she was lying to herself.

Someone bumped into her in the courtyard and Emma turned to see a figure in a long topcoat walking away. She’d seen him before, Emma was sure of it. But her thoughts were elsewhere; she needed to talk to Hook again. About--the parchment.

And the dreams. Because some things--some things she couldn’t ignore any longer.

“You know my mom’s the Evil Queen.” “We make quite the team, Emma.”

Some things, she couldn’t shrug off.

...in my wildest dreams… ...the first time in this world...

Emma stopped dead in her tracks.

Gold knew. He fucking knew.

--

It was as she was about to turn into the street that she saw him: his back to her, his dark-leather-clad back acting almost as a shield between himself and the world. Emma took a breath and steeled herself before saying, “Hey.” It was one word--one syllable--and she had to force it past her lips. “We need to talk.”

Hook flinched at the sound of her voice. “I find,” he said, “that when a woman says that, I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.” He hadn’t turned to face her. “And, in case I had not made myself clear--we’re done, you and me.”

Emma walked toward him anyway, using her free hand to pull the parchment out of her back pocket. The coffee went down on the table, next to his flask, which was uncorked.

“I need you to tell me about this,” she said. There was a flash of pain in his eyes before his zero-fucks-to-give-mask slipped into place, and Emma sat down opposite him. “I need you to tell me about the boy in this picture. Who is he?”

“I like the commanding voice, Swan, all, ‘who is he’. Truly--chills.” Hook took a sip from his flask, giving an exaggerated shudder.

“Why does he look like Henry Mills, Hook?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hook said cooly.

Emma took a deep breath. “Henry likes you,” she said, trying not to let her frustration through. “He trusts you. He apparently believes your bullshit fairytale nonsense and thinks that I’m some kind of savior and you’re Captain Hook.”

She was not successful, and this did not go unnoticed by Hook; his lips turned just slightly upward in a smirk.

“I am Captain Hook, Swan,” Hook said, “just as you are the Savior. These things remain true irrespective of the boy’s beliefs. But that drawing is not of Regina Mills’ adopted son.”

Emma smacked her hand on the table, hard. The coffee cup jumped. “His book, Killian. He’s got a fucking book of all of the same stories you’ve been spewing. And,” Emma said, not noticing the color rising in Hook’s face, “He’s not Regina Mills’ son. He’s mine. My kid, and you had his picture in your desk, and I need to know why.”

Hook was completely silent and the weight of what she’d said began to sink in.

Mine. My kid.

“That’s not Henry,” Hook said again, more slowly this time. His expression was troubled, his eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to be considering his words with extreme care as he shifted in his seat and removed his leather jacket.

“Milah,” he said softly, deftly working the left cuff of his shirt unbuttoned with his right hand. He proceeded to roll the cuff up off of his wrist and past his forearm until it revealed the tattoo she’d caught a glimpse of only that morning. It was a red heart pierced with a dagger and the name MILAH was emblazoned across both. “That’s Milah, Swan. My Milah, and her son.”

Emma shook her head, pointing at the picture, her other hand clutching her to-go cup. “That’s Henry, Hook. They could be fucking twins.”

The color was slowly draining from Hook’s face. “That’s Baelfire, Swan,” he said, his voice insistent. “Bae, we called him. Milah drew that portrait herself, to remind herself that one day we would go back for him. I watched her do it, though she died before we were able to make the attempt.” He looked away from her before adding, “Bae could have been my son, if I had had the strength to let him in.”

My son.

“I don’t understand.” Or maybe she just didn’t want to.

“Baelfire is Henry’s father,” Hook said seriously. “It was obvious to me the first moment I saw him without the influence of the curse clouding my mind.”

Emma’s mind was reeling, and she took a sip of the cold coffee just to break their eye contact. It tasted sour going down, but she took another. And another, ignoring the feeling in her stomach even as he said the words.

“I know not what means he may have used to travel to this realm, nor what name he adopted once here, but there can be no mistake.” Hook paused, uncomfortable. “He stayed with me for a time in Neverland.”

She shouldn’t believe him--but she did. He was telling her the truth.

“Henry’s father’s name is Neal,” Emma whispered finally, closing her eyes. “Neal Cassidy.”

Damn it, she’d always known he was older than he’d said he was. She was feeling an irrational urge to laugh.

Or maybe cry.

Just--what even was her life?

Emma tightened her grip on the coffee cup like it was some kind of lifeline.

“Swan,” Hook’s voice was urgent, and Emma felt his fingers brush against her wrist. “Are you telling me the truth? You--you knew Bae? Henry is, truly, your son?”

He’s mine. My kid.

That was the first time she’d ever let herself say that.

The thought made her dizzy. Emma let go of the cup to put her head in her hand and leaned her weight into it, bracing herself.

“Emma,” Hook said. The fingers around her wrist pulled tighter. “Emma--Swan, are you all right?”

The cup fell over, spilling cold coffee onto the table.

“What did you do?”

Emma tried to answer, but couldn’t. She also could not seem to open her eyes.

“What did you do?” Hook repeated. “Answer me!”

The last thing she remembered as she blacked out was the feeling of Hook’s fingers threaded through hers.

--

@kmomof4 @shireness-says @stahlop @carpedzem @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @snowbellewells @captainsjedi @eirabach @scientificapricot @mariakov81 @searchingwardrobes 

[kevinskorner]

Katy Delivers!: Smile Review

First off, I just want to say CONGRATULATIONS to Katy and Orlando for having their daughter, DAISY DOVE BLOOM! I absolutely ADORE that name and I was hoping that they would pick the name Daisy! Katy has been working non. stop. ever since “Daisies” came out. Doing promo after promo, either American Idol or just interviews, she has worked her ass off to promote this album and doing it all PREGNANT. Power. Mom. Moves. After “witnessing” (lol I had to) the Witness era and seeing it underperform and seeing Katy battling depression it was really upsetting. Katy has been a force in the pop music world since she came out with “I Kissed A Girl” and when Witness came along and it wasn’t performing like her past three records, she was disappointed which totally makes sense BUT, the success of her first three albums was very rare and unlike any other pop star. I mean, a number one debut single, 5 number one songs from her second album, the most for any artist, (its really 6 because there was a rerelease but anyway) 2 number one’s from the third album I mean... That success doesn’t usually happen for an artist in their first few album so I totally understand why Katy would be upset by the underperformance of Witness because she was living on that high for so long. 

Now, we come to the present. Katy has come out with her fifth studio album Smile and I really enjoy it. I heard Katy say that she didn’t expect to make an album like this or that it wasn’t planned but I think it’s a perfect representation of what she’s gone through and who she’s become. Katy really did lose her “smile” after Witness. She went through a lot, but she has made it back onto the other side and has become a stronger person. She’s more dignified, humbled and simplified and you can see it. She’s still the Katy Perry we all know and love but she’s grown now. I will never get over the fact that she gave BIRTH to her FIRST CHILD and release her FIFTH album in the span of three days. 

“Never Really Over” has become a staple in Katy’s discography and I would call it a classic. It’s just so addicting and a GREAT pop song. When Katy announced the tracklist I didn’t know how I felt about it as the opening track but I think once I listened to the album straight through, it made sense. She says “two years and just like that my head still takes me back, thought it was done but I guess it never, really, over”. The production in “Cry About It Later” is so good. I can totally relate to the lyrics because it talks about when you wanna put your emotions to the side and not focus on the drama or sadness going on, just live in the fun moment you’re having. I honestly love it. THE CHORUS in “Teary Eyes” IS EVERYTHING. I’m loving this new venture Katy has taken musically with the more club/house/dance vibe. That is the type of music you want to listen to when you’ve lost your smile and are trying to find the goodness in life again. “Daisies” has really grown to be a great song. It can be played on and on and i’ll still scream every word. It has even more meaning with Daisy Dove Bloom being born now. I don’t know how it goes with the album aesthetically but I still love it. “Look at me now, look at me now, I’m in full bloom”. “Resilient” as a song is my least favorite but, it does have some of my favorite lyrics. I like the message of pushing through in the lyric “you’re gonna watch this flower grow right through the cracks”. Ugh, I'm just loving the the metaphors to her daughter and to Orlando because she is like the flower in her life becoming a Bloom and giving birth to a Daisy. Also, her vocals remind me of someone but I can’t put my finger on it... I was NOT expecting this SERVE in “Not The End Of The World”. I think this is actually a perfect pop song for 2020 honestly. It’s giving post apocalyptical/rise but more poppy and ooo i LOVE the sample! I have really grown to like “Smile”. It took me a little while to catch on but it’s so fun and catchy and just enjoyable. I also love the  Giorgio Moroder remix even more! I totally can see how “Champagne Problems” relates to Katy and Orlando’s relationship. After their break up they’ve come back together and realized how much they love each other and as long as they have that love, they don’t have any worries. I really love “Tucked”’s chorus and it makes me wanna just groove! It sort of gives that roller skating at a roller rink vibe. “Harleys In Hawaii” is a CLASSICCCC. It’s just GREAT. SMOOTH & SEXYYYYYY. I’m really happy that it ending up making it on the album because it’s too good not to be. “Only Love” was a surprise to me. I didn’t even know there was a song with this title on it. It’s so raw and brings out the emotions while also making your head bop. It helps you realize what’s important in life and to stop thinking about the negativity. In “What Makes A Woman”, I love the “doing what the fuck I want” lyric and production. This is such a great note to end the album on because it shows the power and strength Katy has and it shows her vulnerability as she goes into this new chapter of life as a mother.

I am so happy for Katy. I am so THRILLED that she got her SMILE back! This is a solid album filled with pop joy that helps you put on a smile. I recommend listening straight through. 

Standout Tracks: “Never Really Over”, “Teary Eyes”, “Cry About It Later”, “Daisies”, “Harleys in Hawaii”, “Only Love”.