#happened to find the perfect degree and now i´m excited as hell

[greensleeve]

Might actually start studying in January already, goddamn

(if only I get in, that is)

[yourfandomfriend]

Analyze Thyself || Mobius Meta

Like a lot of people, I was thrilled to hear Owen Wilson would be playing Mobius M. Mobius in the Loki series, but I never expected to be so damn impressed with the execution. He's a trickster, and while it's appropriate, I don't think anyone expected it.

Not just because of Wilson’s comedy background, either, but because Mobius has all the painfully earnest, embarrassing energy of a youth pastor trying to "rap" about Jesus to a troubled orphan. Like he’s the type of guy who wants to settle your argument about whether or not Midnight Run is the best romantic movie of all time over a heated game of checkers. But thankfully, Mobius is nowhere near as boring a fella.

For one thing, he gives two conflicting motives for his behavior. What's the truth? We don't know yet for certain, so we have to look at his actions. And while finding out the truth will surely inform his character to a degree, finding out what he's wrong or lying about is just as revealing.

It's only fair, given that he's an analyst, that we all turn that microscope around and ask: what makes Mobius tick?

**SPOILERS**

For Loki: Episode Two, “The Variant” **SPOILERS**

Also, I’m not gonna entertain a lot of unknown-unknowns, because assuming everything is a plot twist is just maddeningly unhelpful.

The Risk

To begin with, the first action I think begins cracking this character open is his willingness to stick his neck out on the block to become Loki's handler. It’s risky behavior, to say the least. Is his reputation on the line? Or job? Or more? We don't quite know, but agreeing to babysit that bundle of chaos is, even in the best circumstances, like agreeing to catch a bullet in your teeth. 

He’s clearly not stupid or reckless, so that means Mobius believes the rewards for doing this, whatever they may be, outweigh the risks to himself. He thinks whatever might happen to him as a result of this action is an acceptable cost.

Conclusion #1: Good or bad, he's not strictly a selfish man.

The Rewards

Mobius gives a lovely little speech in this episode about how he has perfect faith and trust and gratitude in the TVA. Unlike Loki during Avengers, he has conviction in what he does. He lives for the TVA, he'd die for the TVA. He believes that the "Sacred Timeline" should be defended and thus will do whatever it takes to stop the threat of the Very Dangerous Variant. 

Order out of Chaos. Peace. Contentment. For all time. Always.

If Mobius gets his way, the Variant is caught, obviously. It's all the motive he needs but... it’s not all the motive he has. 

At the beginning of the episode, Mobius catches Loki stalling to let the Variant get away. He’s then hauled into Renslayer's office where he argues for another chance for Loki and swears he's only doing all this because it's a good strategy. That he isn't being a softy, that he has no esteem for Loki, and that if Loki betrays them again, Mobius will be the one to take him out.

Renslayer and Loki both call bullshit -- they think they see an exploitable Achilles heel, here. And according to Renslayer, Mobius has a history of this kind of behavior. She’s worried about him, though, and she has good reason. You see, Loki is the antithesis of everything the TVA believes in. Not only is he the God of Mischief -- the one called Lie-Smith, Mr. Chaos -- he's also a variant.

In fact, the prime entity he's a variant of is the same as the Very Dangerous Variant who's attacking the TVA. Which means that if Mobius loves the TVA and has perfect faith, commitment, and conviction in the Sacred Timeline, logically, he should hate Loki.

And yet...

Later in the episode, after Loki's done some genuine helping and he and Mobius have gotten to bond over their detective work, Mobius is excited. It's a clever as hell idea, that someone could hide from the TVA in apocalypses, and they now had a real shot at catching the Variant. 

But that's not the extent of the excitement. Because, aww, look: Loki's helping. Willingly and with a good attitude. He's doing the work, he's focused, he's genuine. He has a knack for the job, and Loki's proud of himself.

And Mobius is proud of him, too. He's beaming about Loki’s progress, insisting he should be there on the field op, almost past caring how foolish he looks at this point. He feels vindicated. He even gives Loki a couple of daggers, he's that convinced of Loki's progress. 

But then? Then he fights B-15 when she wants to split them up. He insinuates that Loki's up to shit and that B-15 can’t handle him, proving that he both doesn't trust Loki to behave on his own and thinks Loki belongs on the op. Meaning he must be there, but Mobius must be by his side.

Because Mobius believes Loki needs him-. Wait, wrong accent: Mobius believes Loki needs him. Him, specifically.

Conclusion #2: Mobius is invested in more than just the timeline.

Complications

So we've established that "Mobius doesn't care about Loki" is the false statement. What's the point of that? Well, it recolors some of his behavior. 

For one, the confusion about his motives can be read as either a lack of self-awareness on his part or as a clever ruse to keep Renslayer from canceling his risky "takes a Loki to catch a Loki" experiment and to keep Loki from believing he can exploit Mobius' fondness for him.

I'd err more on the side of it being a bit of both, though. He seems aware that he cares about Loki, but not that it's clouding his judgment or that it has anything to do with a personal predilection for "broken things."

But affection for Loki isn't the only thing complicating Mobius now. We're shown two instances of him bearing witness to the nigh-apocalypse, and he is thoroughly uncomfy with it. 

Both Loki and a hunter are shown being callous toward people they know are about to die, people they know they can't save, and Mobius doesn't like it. Even when he was just rifling through files, the frequency of great tragedies that he knows all about but isn't allowed to help with is beginning to affect him.

I mean, it's hard enough when you're staring at bodies in a branch timeline that's about to be pruned, but knowing you can save living people who are about to be wiped off the map but can't because you believe the Fabric of Reality rests on maintaining the timeline? That's painful. Makes it hard to keep one's convictions, don't you think?

Conclusion #3: Mobius is more complicated than even he knows.

I don’t like to call shit this early, but if I had to take a wild stab about Mobius right now, I'd say that the cornerstone of his character is an unconscious desire to feel needed, and thus an irresistible weakness for people in crisis. That his devotion to the TVA is based on this weakness, but that it's also this weakness that will undermine his devotion -- if not because of his desire to help Loki, then by his desire to help other people harmed by the "natural" course of time.

[badger-bear]

I thought it would be fun to post something non-fandom related! I’m starting a new dungeons and dragons campaign with friends tomorrow so I thought I would share my character and their background story. The campaign we are starting is going to be set in college and since I have never been in college, I’m very excited to live vicariously through my character! 

Zackery Gabbro: a rock gnome/bard, early 20s, grey skin with moss green spots all over, medium length brown hair that is always in a clip or in a bandana, uses all pronouns but really likes dude/bro, attends silverquill college and is in a fraternity, aspiring musician, dulcimer is their preferred instrument but can also play the drums and the hand drum. 

Under the cut is the character’s background if you want to read it. Nat, if you’re reading this STOP!!! THERE ARE SPOILERS!!!!!  Everyone else enjoy! I should say trigger warning for parent death in the background.

Dreaming of being the next Bob Dylan or Hozier, Zackery Gabbro is an aspiring musician trying to fulfill his parents' vision of his future. Growing up with folk heroes Amethyst and Granite Gabbro as his parents, it was fate that Zackery grew up with an affliction for all things musical. They would use anything and everything as drum sticks. She got her first dulcimer at the age of three and never went anywhere without it. 

In their small village, it was normal to see Zackery on the street corners after school performing for the village folk or singing lullabies to the children to help them fall asleep. During class, they were often yelled at for tapping on their desks or chairs. Knowing they didn’t want to do anything other than music, they were never the best in school and had to be tutored in order to pass. 

All of that changed, however, when his parents were killed via fire in their apothecary shop. Zackery was at school when it happened and was told by the head of the school that they were now an orphan. Fortunately, her parents prepared for the future and left Zackery an inheritance but he could only receive it after they got their college diploma. 

Zackery was heartbroken. All he wanted was to make his parents proud and to live up to the family name. She was confused that her parents didn’t want the same for them. Distraught with being an orphan and feeling like a failure for not wanting to fulfill his parent's wishes, Zackery ran away. They spent time on the road performing for sailors or guards or drunken people at bars. It wasn’t as easy as Zackery thought it would be to be a musician. She spent most nights sleeping under the stars and talking to his parents and asking for advice. It took a few years but she finally swallowed her grief and decided to do what his parents asked.

What Zackery learned when he returned home was that not only did his parents leave the inheritance but they also had a monthly allowance to help her get through school. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to get by and allow Zackery to do what he was destined for attend college, get a degree and make his parents proud. 

Standing in the quad of Silverquill College, dulcimer strapped to his back and his hair in a clip on top of his head, Zackery was ready. 

                                                         -

That was the lie he was practicing in his head as he walked through the campus trying to find his dorm. It needed work but she was sure they would be able to come up with the perfect story when he finally met people he would consider friends. It’s just. Zackery lived a comfortable life. It was true that his parents made somewhat of a name for themselves as musicians and they did have a shop but they didn’t die. They were lovely parents and they gave him everything she ever needed and more. 

But that wasn’t a good story for an artist. He needed to be hurt, he needed to struggle and have tales of desperate times and perseverance. All the greats struggled and had a traumatic background and how the hell was Zackery going to make it if life was handed to him on a comfortable silver spoon? Albeit, not a real silver spoon but a silver spoon nonetheless. He would pass his classes, get the stupid degree then go out in the world and became a household name.

It was a little white lie, it didn’t hurt anyone and there was no way anyone was going to find out. What’s the worst that was going to happen?

[cheshiremadd]

until she falls in love with me

AO3 Inspiration

Interlude: The Ladyblog

Here it is, folks! Last month’s non-akuma video submissions: The Convention Compilation!You guys sent in so much footage; so I’ll be posting a second compilation later in the week. Thanks for your support! - Alya Cesaire, Ladyblogger Extraordinaire

A group of people are down the street from the camera. They are all wearing black and all have blonde hair. The view turns 180 degrees to show Chat Noir. A cheshire grin and a wink, and he turns it back to the group. The camera bobs as he walks towards them. As he gets closer, it becomes clear that every person in the group is in a Chat Noir costume. They range from I-found-this-in-my-closet to well tailored, used-every-reference-image-the-Ladyblog-had-to-offer imitation. One cosplayer turns his head and catches sight of Chat. He waves and calls out, “Hey man, looks like your going to the con, too! Wanna join us?”

Everyone else turns and most wave or call out greetings. “Sure! Mind if I record?”

They all look at each other, shaking heads. The first one responds as he holds out a clawed hand. “I think we’re all okay with that. I’m Bertrand.”

“I’m Chat Noir!” The group laughs.

“Yeah, so are we!” One of the girls says, still laughing. She’s wearing a simple jeans and t-shirt, both black, and a cat ear headband in blond hair that looks more real than wig. “Woah, wicked costume! Are those the ears off Amazon? It’s great to know they actually work.”

The group starts walking again, and Chat follows with his camera. They chatter about which panels to see (Marvel vs Miraculous: What Comics Can Tell Us About Real Life Superheroes and Protagonist? Villain? Goofy Side-Kick? How to Recognize Your Role in Life and What You Can Do About It seem to be two favorites), make bets on what cosplays they’ll see the most of (“I’m telling ya, Bertie, there’s gonna be more Ladybugs!” “Chat’s costume is easier!”), and eventually moves to celebrity sightings.

“Guys, did you see?! Adrien Agreste is coming! He confirmed on Twitter this morning. Says he’s got his costume ready to go and everything!” He hops up and down in his excitement. “Do you think he’ll dress up as Chat Noir? I loved his work on the Ladybug and Chat Noir movie. His portrayal of Chat Noir was spot on! Do you think he’ll take a picture with me?”

“Don’t you mean ‘his portrayal was purrfect’?” Chat interrupted.

The teen smacks his palm to his forehead. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!”

Amid giggles, Black Jeans and a T-shirt speaks up again. “Okay, but is he a guest? Or a pleb like us? I’m sure that he isn’t going so he can be mobbed by fans, Matthieu.”

“It’s general knowledge that if you go to a convention in costume, people will want to take pictures.”

“It’s general courtesy to ask before you take pictures, and back off if he says ‘no’.”

“Of course!” Matthieu raises his hands in defense. “Of course I’d back off.”

A curious sound, almost like a heavy-duty fishing reel being released and drawn back in, comes over the video. Chat’s slightly awed muttering can barely be heard, “This is one of the best parts of my day..”, and then Ladybug is dropping gracefully on the other side of the multiple Chat Noirs.

“Hi everyone.” She gives a brief warm smile and then turns her attention to the person behind the camera. Her blue eyes are vivid and piercing. “Are you coming or what?” She waits for a moment, expecting an answer. The group trade confused looks. “Look, I know you hate overscheduled days, but I have a lot to do today, and if I don’t follow mine, I will end up disappointing someone.”

The silence continues. Black Jeans and a T-Shirt shifts from foot to foot. Tuxedo Chat wipes her hands on her pants. Professional Cosplayer Chat looks like he’s about to melt from Ladybug’s mere presence. The camera shifts and picks up a muffled snerk that the cosplayers don’t register.

“Uh, ma’am?” Bertrand starts, then cuts off as she looks at him. “...we’re, uh….None of us are actually Chat Noir.” He pauses a moment. “We’re.. cosplayers?”

She stares at him with an amused eyebrow and a barely-there smile. “I know my partner when I see him.” She glances back at Chat, and mischief dances in her eyes. “Alright, fine, but I’m enacting a penalty game.”

Ladybug shifts her weight into a more relaxed position. Brings her fingers to her chin as if stroking an invisible beard. “Hm...I’ll just have to find your Number 1 Fan and see if I can sway her my way.”

There’s a loud gasp. Chat and his camera begin moving to the front of the group.

“Nope! No! Not happening! Sorry, guys, it was fun, but there is NO WAY in HELL that I am letting that happen.”

“I’m sure it’d be so easy, too. She’s a fashion designer, isn’t she? All I’d have to do is show her how fantastic she’d look in red.”

Chat practically chokes. Ladybug looks smug.

“Bug. You have the Ladyblogger. You have Adrien Agreste, and Chloé Bourgeois. Jagged Stone. You can keep your 90% of Paris. But Marinette Dupain-Cheng is mine. You may not have her.”

“Hey! Jagged loves us equally. And it’s probably more like…” She seesaws her hand in approximation. “..78% of Paris.”

“Um…” The camera turns back to the cosplayers, who are wearing a variety of facial expressions. Mouth-gapingly dumbfounded. Disbelief. Confusion. Stars in the eyes excitement.

The feed cuts as they all ask for autographs.

-

"Mommy, look! It's Chat Noir!"

A small girl runs up and hugs him. She has a navy dress, red hair bow, and an orange bag.

“Élodie! You need to ask before you touch.” Élodie’s mom sounds both like she’s said this a hundred times today and like she thinks the scene is adorable. She steps around part of the crowd and into the camera view. Élodie immediately lets go

“Can..can I ha-have a hug?”

Chat Noir looks delighted. His eyes shine and his grin is threatening to overtake his face. He drops to his knees to better accommodate the four year old. “Absolutely!”

She’s squeezing him for all she’s worth, and he’s holding her as if she’s the most precious child in the world. Her mom quietly produces a phone and snaps a picture. She glances at the screen with a small smile. Chat only pulls back when Élodie does.

“You are the cutest Kiki!” Chat tilts his head. He’s still on his knees, at her eye level. “But where is your Jiji?”

Élodie lights up even more and paws for her bag. The black cat plush is proudly presented. Chat takes it, gingerly, and says, “Did you know that cats can talk to one another?”

The little girl nods enthusiastically, hanging on his every word. He lifts Jiji to his cat ears and closes his eyes. Tilts his head. ‘Listens’ for a moment. She squirms, doing a kind of butt wiggle like she can’t possibly contain her excitement.

Finally, Chat nods. “Mm-hm. I’ll be sure to pass the message on.”

She jumps once, twice, three times. Her little hands are clenched fists not quite hiding her mouth. “What’d he say? What’d he say?!”

“He says that he loves you. And also please stop hogging the blankets at night.” His smile turns teasing. “Are you a blanket hog?”

They talk for a few more minutes. She asks him every question under the sun (“Ca-can you really see when the sun goes down? Do you eat cookies? Could you tie up a dinosaur and a tiger?”). She touches his ears and tries to stop his tail from moving. Her last question has him tapping his chest and beckoning Ladybug closer with his other hand. Élodie looks to her mom, who nods and smiles, and lays her head where he indicated. Ladybug slips a hand into his hair and, with what is clearly practiced ease, begins scratching. His eyes droop and close. They stay paused for a moment, until Élodie shrieks with laughter, pulls away to tell her mom giddily, “He purrs, Mommy! Like Jiji!”, then goes back to hear again.

When the little girl and her mom finally go on their way, the cameraperson has scooted close enough to the heroes to catch one final exchange.

Ladybug, who hasn’t taken her eyes off her partner and his tiny fan the whole time, says “Chat, if you ever decide to have kids, you’re going to make the most incredible father.”

-

The previous scene ended with a red faced Chat Noir. And this scene starts with one.

The view zooms out to bring a full view of the dark haired Chat. Her costume is perfect, down to the honeycomb pattern on the fabric. Hair unbound and rockstar teased, blue cat eye contacts, clawed hands nervously twirling her belt-tail. She’s in a convention hall, surrounded by crowds of people. Some are in costumes like her, some in regular clothes.

“Are you livestreaming this?” Marinette says.

“Nope! But you can bet I’m putting it in this month’s submission compilation post. Your work deserves to be shown off!”

“Alyaaa, you’re making me blush!”

Alya laughs, then gasps as a giant space marine moves and reveals the real Chat Noir. “Chat! Chat Noir! Care to share a few words with the Ladyblog?"

He waves and works his way to them. He’s smiling brightly until Marinette turns to greet him, and he stops dead. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open. His face is now very, very red. He waves his hands like he’s trying to get something out and is having trouble, but then reigns them in, covering his mouth with one and putting the other to the opposite elbow.

��That’s, um,” His voice comes out high and squeaky. He clears his throat and tries again. “Wow. That’s wow. How, uh, how did you get the fabric to do that?”

She seems too stunned to answer for a moment. “L-lots of experiments. And practice. I had to do so much research on how fabrics are made.”

“Wow,” Chat says again. His eyes are roaming all over her form, taking in every detail.

“Hey, M, turn around. I want to get a good shot of you two!” The two jump a bit, but do as she asks and line up facing the camera. Standing next to him only exemplifies how exact her creation is.

Alya leads her impromptu interview with: “How long did it take you to make your outfit?”

“Mmm...six months or so, about when the presale tickets went live.”

“So long?” the superhero asks. He’s mystified.

Marinette just shrugs. “I knew that I’d have to work around school and commissions and other stuff, and I wanted to give the project the consideration it deserved.”

“What was the hardest part to recreate?” Alya asks.

Marinette laughs. “Definitely the fabric! I went through so many different types, trying to figure out the best way to get the pattern on right, because it’s just not something you’ll find in a store. I ended up contacting someone that I’d met at a design competition, and they were able to point me in the direction of a company that will print your pattern for you.”

Chat’s eyes widen once more and he pulls out his baton and starts tapping on it. Nino walks up, in a store-bought Chat Noir costume, also holding his phone out.

“Babe! No Adrien?”

Nino glances at Alya, then back down. “He says he’s here, but there’s so many people, it’s impossible to find anybody. Oh, hey, you found Nettie and Chat Noir. HOLY SHIT MARINETTE. That costume is wicked!”

He circles her, putting his phone up, then holds his fist out. She bumps it with a grin.

Chat harumphs and replaces his weapon. “Looks like LB’s already detransformed. I wanted to show off Marinette’s amazing skills!”

Alya laughs. “Ladybug’s right, though. M does look fantastic in red.”

Chat stares at her, decidedly grumpy. The girl in question snorts out surprised laughter. A tall Mad Hatter in the background notices the camera and sticks up crooked bunny ears over Chat’s head. Alya cackles in delight.

“As I told my lady,” he wraps a possessive arm around Marinette’s shoulder, “my Number 1 Fan. Not hers.”

He looks directly at the camera. “Oh, and to anyone still arguing over the position: Look at this” he gestures to her costume “and don’t even bother trying to convince me otherwise.”

-

Dorothée Beranger Yeah, that’s fair... She wore that costume to school the next day and it’s *chef’s kiss*. Also she’s, like, Chat Noir’s biggest defender. Word of advice: do not insinuate that he’s a sidekick anywhere this girl might hear.

Antonin Lamarre I've seen her Chat rants on the Ladyblog! She really knows her stuff!

LuminousPollywog Seeing Chat with that little girl cleared my face, watered my crops, and gave my grades the boost they needed.

miraculousluckycharm13 THAT SOFT LOOK! #LADYNOIR IS REAL --Paradiddle --are we just going to ignore the marichat? chatinette? in the room?

[thewritingstar]

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (Chapter 1)

Pairing: Blossutch (Blossom x Butch)

Fandom: Powerpuff Girls

Rating: M (drug use, mature themes, it’s butch do I even need to explain??)

Summary: An Ivy League school and a plan in place, Blossom has everything in order. But when a person from her past suddenly shows up, she wonders if her plans could be slightly rearranged.

I hope you all enjoy this new Wip that I am determined to finish!!! Enjoy!!! Also I’m on mobile so I’ll put the keep reading thing once I get on a computer sorry for the long post lol

———

“Bubbles, please stop crying.” Blossom patted her sobbing sisters back. She let out a laugh as Bubbles finally pulled away and squished her cheeks. 

“But I'm going to miss you!” The tears were coming again and Blossom pulled her into one last hug. 

Buttercup only huffed as she placed the last box on the ground. “Bubbles she is going to a college only three hours away from ours. We can fly in less than twenty minutes to see her.” 

It was true. Blossom had gotten into every single college she applied to, no surprise there and only the ivy league schools would be suffice for her. On the other hand Bubbles and Buttercup were attending the same college on the opposite side of the city, Buttercup on a full ride for sports and Bubbles in one of the top art and fashion programs around. Their sister almost went to that school but after a smack to the face and yelling about going to the best school, Buttercup made sure her sister only got the best, afterall who was going to brag at Thanksgiving dinner? 

“I know. I know but it just feels weird.” She shrugged before opening up a compact mirror and fixing her makeup. it closed with a pop. “I mean we all haven’t really been apart like ever.”

The thought did startle Blossom but that’s degree plaster on her wall protected by glass was the goal and if she had to be away from her sisters for a little bit, then so be it.

“She’s going to be fine Bubs.” And after a few more minutes of a goodbyes, Blossom was left alone in her apartment. 

Her sisters got roomed together but Blossom knew she was a fragile person to live with. It was better to live by herself than try and work out a routine with a random stranger, plus the dorms were right next to all the frat houses and Blossom cringed every time she went near them. 

How could such a presteigne school allow such juvenile behavior? She would never know. 

It only took an hour for everything to be in place thanks to her super speed and pre-planning of the layout. It was a simple apartment. One bedroom with a small kitchenette and a living room, nothing fancy but had a few places to study and get work done, perfect.

Not to mention her bulletin board that already had her schedule up with prime study times and library hours, this was gonna be fun.

By the time she was done and took a shower, her stomach grumbled and she knew she should eat. It was no secret that Blossom wasn’t the best in the kitchn. Okay it was known that she was the worst but she knew how to boil water and use the microwave, but eating at all the small local cafes seemed much more appealing. 

With her purse in hand she made her way out. 

“Um excuse me?” A voice came just as she was locking her door. “You must be Blossom”

Blossom wanted to turn back around and go into her room. Yes she might have been one of the most famous people on the face of the earth but the girl was one for her alone time. She put on a smile and was ready to meet the fan, she loved meeting fans she was just hungry.

She looked up at the girl with bright blue eyes and long brown hair. A gasp leaving her lips and she squealed. “Robin!”

Her childhood friend who sadly moved a city over during middle school was now staring back at her. “Hey Blossy.” She giggled as she was pulled into a hug. “I would say I am surprised to see you but I’m not.”

Blossom could hardly contain her excitement as Robin wrapped an arm around her own, a little trait that she did with everyone, and they walked down the hall. “Dinner time?”

“Absolutely, we have so much to catch up on.” Blossom smiled back. 

--

“I can’t believe you actually had to fight a monster on prom.” Robin laughed as she bit into her sandwich and Blossom rolled her eyes playfully. 

“Really? I'm not.” 

In that moment Blossom was thankful that Robin was there. Out of all their friends in school, she had always been the most genuine. Never once did the girls status affect their relationship and she never worried about any information about them getting leaked, unlike some of their classmates. 

To be honest she was afraid to be on her own. Her sisters were still together and she had no one. She was a peoples person but not in the way Bubbles was. It was hard for her to deeply connect to people unless it was intellguiet. 

“Soooo.” Robin started. “Did the boys go to high school with you?” She asked eagerly. 

It took a moment for Blossom to process it. The boys? And then it hit her. Robin had been a fangirl, like most, when the boys had joined the school system at the age of 16. Of course she was gone before that had happened and only knew them as the counterparts who tried to kill the girls every once in a while but it didn’t stop her from eyeing them. 

“They went to the rival high school.” Blossom said unenthusiastically as she patted her mouth with a napkin. “We all got along fine, just slight teasing.”

“Did you date any of them? I always thought you and the red one, Brick was it? Would end up a thing.” 

“Why would you think that?”

“Bubbles and Boomer did. I followed her on social media and saw all the cute couple posts about them but someone.” She looked at Blossom. “Didn’t have social media.” 

Blossom could see how everyone thought Brick and her would end up together. But to everyone dismay, they were only friends, maybe. And well, he was more occupied in the boy population than the girls. Of course she was one of the few to know that and they spent just as much time arguing about Shakespeare as they did bonding over the hottest member of boy bands. 

“I have a private instagram that you can have. Brick and I are just friends, well he’s more like my best friend” 

“That's too bad, I always thought you would end up with a ruff.” Robin laughed as she took Blossom's phone and plugged in her new number and every single social media she could find. 

She got her phone back after a minute and dropped some bills on the table. “Sorry to disappoint but he doesn’t swing that way.” 

“Oh really?” This surprised Robin. 

She laughed a little. “Actually we tried to date.” Robin almost spit out her drink. “He took me on a date and when he kissed me it felt wrong, no spark, nothing. It was werid since we are counterparts but afterwards he told me that he was gay and was just making sure.” 

“That's sweet.”

“So now we just braid each other's hair and judge people while complaining that we are single.” 

“What about the green one?” Robin eyed her. “I don’t think Buttercup was into him right? But you could be. Imagine it, the bad boy and the good girl.” Robin was practically blushing.

“Absolutely not.” Blossom almost laughed. “I don’t even think he would go to college and plus, we don’t have anything in common.”

The brunette shrugged and picked up her jacket. “Don’t worry Bloss, this is college. We will find you a hot piece of ass to match with your fine ass.” 

A loud laugh left her lips. “Thank you Robin. Now I heard there is a bakery near here that is to die for.” 

“Oh you and your sweets.” 

----

By the time her alarm went off, Blossom had already been on a morning run, ornginzed her books and ate at the small bakery that had the most amazing danishes. Unlike most people, she lived on the thrill of first days of school. 

She made sure to double lock her door as she strutted out of her appartment and took in the fresh autum air. There was still about an hour before class but so she could walk as slow as she wanted. 

The leaves where starting to tint to a rustic brown and crumble underneath her pumps, she was always a show fantaic and adored walking in heels even though she was already 5′6. There was something about being taller than most of the girls around her that provided a staggering connfiedcen in her, plus it made her more intrmidating against villains. Sometimes she wore 5 inch heels just to be 6 ft tall for the hell of it. 

The walk to the main campus buildings took her past the majority of the socail houses. She eyed one of the frat houses that she wouldn’t bother knowing its name and a glare and bad taste formed in her mouth. She wondered why people even bothered going to college if they were just going to mess around and not do their work. 

She huffed. She didn’t have time for those silly parties and games, she worked to damn hard to be the top of her class and she was determine to conquer this school too. And the school for her masters and eventally doctoral. She was going to be a leading chemist after all and follow in her fathers foot steps. He nearly cried when she said she wanted to work in his lab one day. 

By the time she got to class, and stopped for a tall iced coffee, extra vanilla for her sweet tooth, class would begin in just ten mintues. 

She was thrilled for her class. Professor Keene was amoung one of the smartest and well known chemists in the contry and when Blossom found out she was going to be learning from her, she almost blew up the house from exictemnt. 

She took a seat in the middle row of the lecture hall and was happy that she wasn’t the only student in there. The class began to fill in but she was engaged in her book so she didn’t notcie anyone who was shuffling in the seat behind or around her. She thought about turning around and intrducing herself to other students. She felt a little bad about how stand offish she could be but she was a famous superhero so not wanting to be the center of attention was something she strived for. Unless it was for grades, then she would gladly take her crown. 

Her phone buzzed quietly in the pocket of her skirt. A small smile came to her lips as she read the text from her sister group chat. 

Bubbles: Hope you have a good day at school sis!

Buttercup: i hate this already 

Blossom: Miss you!

She placed the device away as her closed her book and took out her text book. 

“Hey can I borrow a pencil?” A voice came from her right and she reached into her bag and grabbed one without hesitation. 

“Here you go.” She smiled brightly and as soon as her eyes locked onto his, she let out a gasp and nearly choked on air. 

A smirk appeared on his face as took the pencil from her hand, their fingers touched and she felt a jolt of electriy run through her body. Those dark green eyes that she knew all too well pierced through her soul as she gaped at him. 

“Butch?” 

“The one and only.” he winked and she only narrowed her eyes at him. His being in his prescne had set a shiver down her spine and she thought she wouldn’t see him again, espcecially not at a place like this. 

“How the fuck did you get into college.” She blurted out. She never meant to be rude but could you blame her? 

The smirk fell instantyl as he raised a brow. “That wasn’t very nice.” His smirk reteruned quickly. “When the fuck do you cuss Pink?” He disregearded the isnult and instead leaned closer towards her. “Its pretty hot babe.” 

Ugh those winks made her mad. Remindered her too much of there teenage years. 

She wanted to yell at him for the use of the pet name but soon the professor walked in and Blossom almost forgot that she was in class. She shot him a glare and he only laughed as roll was being called. She could feel his eyes on her occsianlly and wanted nothing more than to freeze his hand and punch him in the stomach.

Her eyes stayed glue to the board and her ears listened delicatly to the lecture. she ignored every time he poked her with a pencil or said something that only super hearing could pick up. 

“I could squash him like a bug.” She mumbled under her breath and she knew he heard, and was proabbly smiling and thinking dirty thoughts. Ugh. 

“Alright that wraps up day one. I am cutting class shorter so that you all have time to get settle and situated.” And with that she packed up her breifcase and made her way out. Blossom admired how she held herself so well, all she saw was a image of what she wanted to be. A respectable woman of science. 

Blossom looked down at her notes and smiled proudly at how neat they were. she had spent all of high school learning differnt technquies for optimal note taking and she had mastered it like a sience. 

“So Pink.” Butch intterupted her thoughts and she turned to look at him, she almost forgot he was there...almost. 

“What?” 

“Wanna hang out?” He asked innocently. He even batted his eyelashes for an effect and Blossom fianlly finished packing up. The room around them had cleared out so they were the last two in the room. 

“No not really.” 

He scoffed at her and dramatically leaned in his seat. “Come on babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.”

“You never yelled at Brick for saying it.”

She turned and rolled her eyes. “First of all Brick is my best friend, secondly, he calls me Toots.” 

“So that's why I’m claiming Babe.”

“No!”

“Don’t tell me Boomer has that one? Because thats not fair, hes got Pigtails already, you should learn to share.” He was acting like a child. 

“Ew no Boomer calls me nothing and neither will you.” She got up from her seat and left class, of course he was hot on her heels. 

She didn’t bother walking fast as he would just catch her anyways and she had a feeling he wasn’t leaving her side any time soon, great.

“I like those shoes Pink.” He whistled. 

“Stop staring at my legs.” She knew she should have worn black leggings instead of nude, fuck, it didn’t even matter, boys would find a way to make an outfit sexualized anyways. 

He fake scoffed, he does that alot she noticed. “I would never look at your long goddess like legs and wonder what they would feel like wrapped around my waist as I-” 

She hit him on the side of the head as he opened the door to exit the building. “In your dreams perv.”

“You better beileve in my dreams.” She ignored him and it was well past noon, she should get food. 

“Wanna grab lunch?” He asked as if he read her mind. She probably should say no but she was too hungry to even care. 

“Fine.” She’ll be “everything nice” for now. 

--

Everything nice her ass. Sure she was a sweet girl but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put her foot down on bad behvior. Actually yes she would, she was Blossom after all. Bossy Blossy is what Buttercup always said. But scolding Butch, who is 19 mind you, for chewing with his mouth open was not being bossy, just a decdent human being. 

“So high school? Did you graduate?” She asked him with a teasing tone. 

During their high school years, the boys went to one on the oppsite side of town, probably for the fact that middle school was spent trying not to kill each other. I mean when you are born to kill someone, takes a while to get over it. 

As the crime rate for the RowdyRuffs died down, and ya know the whole Boomer and Bubbles hooking up thing, they all decided to be civil with each other. Butch had taken up the sport of ‘flirithng with every girl he sees and pissing of BC because he felt like it. And Brick just wanted to beat Blossom in all things academic, they always tied. 

Butch shurgged. “Nothing to tell, got to graduate, almost failed doing so too but I had my share of fun.” 

Blossom took a sip of her lemonade. “How did you get here then?” 

“Oh that. Yes how did I, Butch Jojo end up at this ivy league school? Well babe-”

“No”

“Yes. I am what you called, athetically inclined. Buttercup got a full ride on that basketball scholarship and I got the same, kinda of a greens thing.” He winked and she thought it over. It made sense that he would get a sports schaolrship but why here. 

“Aren’t there other schools with better sport programs?”

“Sounds like you don’t want me here.” He gave her a pout.

“Not thats not it-”

“Relax babe, im teasing.” He stole one of her fries. Bitch. “I got them from all over but I didn’t want to go where Buttercup and the lovesick puppies were, I’m never living with Boomer again, superhearing is a curse when Bubbles is over.” He made a face and Blossom nodded as she emeber that one time she caught them-ew nevermind. 

“So not there, what about Bricks school.”

“And have him up my ass constantly, no thanks. I needed to breath fresh air, plus the frat that I joined is top notch.” 

She almost gaged. “Frat?” Why was she surpised? 

He notced the hint of disapointment but brushed it off. “Yep. Apprently four other guys got the schalrship from that fraternity alone. If you get it and accept, you have to be there for at least two years, which means party, booze and babes.” He winked and it was her turn to scoff. 

She stabbed a piece of lettuce from her salad. “Well you must be enjoying yourself then.” She had lost her appetite suddenly. 

“Aww you’re the only girl I have eyes for doll.” That didn’t make her feel better and it shouldn’t have anyways.

“I would say don’t do anything stupid while you’re there but we both know thats not possible.”

“You flatter me Pink, thinking im the dumb one when blueberry boy is the offical Dumbest of the Dumb.”

“I’d be careful Butch, he passed high school with good grades.” 

“And yet im at an ivy league school and hes not.” 

“Touche” 

“So which frat did you get into?” She asked out of politeness but that smirk that showed his slightly sharper than normal teeth already had her regretting it.  

   ---

She shouldn’t have been shocked. No really. The fact that she was staring at the notorious frat house wasn’t even the worse part, it was how she didn’t connect the dots sooner. Of course he was in the highest ranked frat, Alpha Alp. 

“Welcome home babe.” He winked and her eyes widened before offering her most polite smile, ya know the ones reserved for the press.

He hung an arm around her shoulder and lead her up the path way to the front door. Her eyes turned to the lawn, which was scattered with beer cans, cigarette buds and oh my, is that underwear? Why is she not surpised. 

The house itself looked like it had alot of money invested in it and the boys who lived here were all proabbly from rich familes where daddy was sending them for a bussiness degree and to fuck around. She hated it. 

Frats to her were the lowest point of college. Everyone here didn’t even work to get in, well not everyone, and they just got to party and spend money. The amount of horror stories that came from this house alone made her shutter. 

There were handprints made of paint lining the wooden deck, presumabley of all the past members and a dark green print with ‘Butch’ sctarched in looked to be apart of the newest batch. She found it oddly charming in some sort of sick twisted way. 

He opened the door with a loud slam and she knew that if he was back home, Brick would have yelled at him for being obnoxious and brash. She couldn’t blame him. 

“Hey boys.” He yelled at the five guys surrouding the tv with more booze on the table. It was only a little bit past noon. 

“Sup Butch. Ooo got a new toy and its only the first day!” One of them cheered and Blossom instantly scoffed and glared at him. 

Butch sensed the disconfort immediately. “Actually boys.” He sneered with a smile. “This lovely lady is just an old friend who is smarter than all of you dimwits combined.” Blossom was now being pulled towards the right side of the house and up a flight of stairs. 

That was a smart move Blossom thought. He knew better than to piss of a red. Sure the greens were the toughest and the blues could cry and throw the worst tantrums but the reds, making them mad was a death wish that only few had endorsed and would like to keep it that way.

They passed some more of his frat brothers, each giving them a wolf whistle, wink or a high five and each one made Blossom shiver. Before more things could be said Butch had closed the door of his room, ignoring all the hooping and hollering. 

He let out a sigh and turned to Blossom who was sporting a frown. 

“Sorry about that Bloss” He smiled lightly and she only shrugged. 

“I didn’t expect anything less.” She replied as she turned to absorb the atmosphere

It was a simple room. Two beds, she assumed there was a roommate, dark oak furniture and a suitcase thrown on the ground. Clearly he hadn’t finished moving in. However when she turned to his desk there had been a sign of clear drug use. 

“Did you snort cocaine before class?” She asked. 

“Would you believe me if i said it was a pixie stick?”

“No.”

“Okay then.” He shrugged and plopped onto the bed. “So Pink, whatcha you wanna do?” He wiggled his eyebrows and she glared.

—

He had won this round of Go Fish. Of course she had already beat him five times but he said she couldn’t leave until he had a taste of victory or a taste of her lips, she chose the first one obviously.

“In ya face Pinky.” He flicked her bow and she rolled her eyes. He liked the bow. Even though it seemed childish to wear it, it screamed power and authority. Ever since he was a kid, he waited until he saw that flash of velvet red before starting a duel between the groups.

“One against five isn’t very good odds.”

“Maybe not but it just shows that I don’t give up. Now how about some poker, we can make it strip poker if ya like.” Again with the winks.

She shook her head. “The day I play strip poker is the day hell freezes over.” She looked out the window and saw the golden sky. “I should probably go, it’s getting late.”

It just registered that she had been here since noon and now it was almost 5 pm. How?

He frown and she thought he looked cute. No. He looked fine, not cute. Not cute.

She stood and slipped back on her shoes. Her eyes now level with his. She didn’t realize how tall he was compared to her. Sure she was only 5’8 in these shoes but she wasn’t used to someone being taller than her, specially since all the other Puffs and Ruffs fell below her.

He finished shoving the cards in his nightstand which probably had a stash of weed, cigarettes and snacks that again, probably laced with weed. He was lucky that the chemical x in his body reversed any damage those caused or else she would have scolded him more than usual.

“Well we can get dinner, there’s this really good place that has the best pizza.”

She thought about it and almost agreed. “Well pizza sounds good but I promised Robin that we would have sushi and movie night.”

“Can I-“

“Sorry Butch, it’s ladies night.” She shrugged and finally managed to get out the door before his puppy eyes showed up.

She ignored all the stares and teasing that the other frat house mates made as she walked out the door. The green ruff was right behind her and even though she couldn’t see him, she had a feeling that dark glare was being pointed in their direction.

“You don’t need to walk me home, im a big girl.”

“I know I just felt like it.” He clicked his tongue. “Ya know babe.” She shoved him. “This is the longest time we’ve ever hung out, jusy the two of us.”

“What are you implying?” Her voice was cold.

“Nothing doll. Just, it’s nice.” He fell silent after that and took in the fresh air.

The walk to her apartment wasn’t that far but when she arrived at the steps, she was a little sad.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Butch, do your homework.” She slightly scolded.

He leaned against the handrail. “Are you gonna punish me if I do bad?” That smirk again, ugh.

A dangerous thought got into her head as she leaned closer to him, their noses barely touching and she could see his eyes slightly widen and pink dust his cheeks.

“Maybe.” And as soon as he blinked, she was already walking up the stairs to her apartment.

His eyes blew wider than before as he realized just how close she was and that damn smirk. A smile grew on his face as he pushed off the rails and headed back to his own place.

“Game on Blossy.” He whispered to himself.

—

Robin was finishing the last of her food when Blossom told her about today.

“It’s not a big deal but we’ve never really hung out before.” Why did she feel weird.

“Is he hot?”

“Robin”

“Hey I haven’t seen him since middle school and if he was a hottie back then, imagine him now.”

Blossom didn’t want to admit that Butch was hot, but he was. Slightly tanned skin with dark raven hair and of course he was ripped and tone. She saw the way his arm flexed every time he grabbed a new card and yeah maybe he was attractive, so what?

“He’s fine.” Liar. “You would probably kill over if you saw him so it’s best to keep your distance.”

A laugh bubbled out of Robin and Blossom finished her own food.

“But it’s nice to have him around, much different from Boomer or Brick. Carefree and fun, dare I say.”

Robin nodded and the girls fell back into a comfortable silence as the movie played.

“Would you date him?” She asked out of no where. “I’d bet he date you.”

“He would date anything that moves.”

“Anwser the question Bloss.” Robin was now playing with fire. Blossoms love life had never been a top priority and now with the added stress of college, it may never be.

She thought about it and shook her head. “No.”

Robin only shrugged and became engrossed with the film again. Blossom sat there wondering why she didn’t believe herself when she said no.

She pushed those feelings aside and watched the screen as the man brought the woman into a passionate kiss with a beautiful sunset behind them. Deep down she wanted that to be her.

————-

Ahhh first chapter of my newest PPG fic!!! This is dedicated and practally for all the lovely people in the fandom!!!

[hookedontaronfics]

Under His Spell

Title: Under His Spell Pairing: Taron x reader Rating: M Warnings: Smut [fingering, unprotected sex] A/N: Wanted to write a fun little one-shot for Halloween. I’m a couple days late but who’s counting? Halloween never really has to end! There are no tricks, only treats for you in this sexy one shot, so enjoy! x

October 31: Your favorite day of the year. A day full of tricks and treats and pranks and spooks, where people let themselves have a little fun. All Hallow’s Eve wasn’t just for little kids, and everyone usually tried to get in the spirit somehow, whether it was just wearing a fun T-shirt or accessory at work or donning a full-on costume, decked out to the nines at a party. Either way, you loved sharing in the spirit of the day, and this year was no exception.

In fact, you were incredibly excited because this year you’d been invited to a somewhat exclusive masquerade costume party. Your job as an executive assistant meant you had worked for someone who knew someone, and you were pretty sure there might even be some celebrities in the mix at the event. You wondered if you’d be able to recognize them by their voice and mannerisms; it would be a fun night trying to guess. You had also spent a lot of time and money on your costume and were sure it would be a hit, so you were looking forward to the evening even if you’d have to schmooze with your boss.

As soon as you got home from work, you scarfed the Chinese takeout you’d picked up, stuffing noodles in your mouth even as you plugged your curling iron in, letting it heat up while you ate. You didn’t have much time to get ready, and you wanted everything to be perfect, from your hair to the makeup to the mask you’d spent many hours with a glue gun creating. The rhinestones had been a bitch to work with, but oh so worth it.

You finished your food and quickly curled your hair and did your makeup before carefully pulling on your stockings, boots and the dress you’d designed and sewn, inspired by Christine Daaé from the “Phantom of the Opera.” After graduating from college with a fashion degree, you’d found it difficult to break into the scene so you mostly used your skills for Halloween costumes while working as a personal assistant for your boss and his contingent of clients. You really didn’t mind that work; the pay was fantastic and the work relatively easy. Maybe someday you’d design and try to sell an entire collection to the fashion houses, but for now this sort of work paid the bills.

You affixed the mask on your face and took a look at yourself in the mirror; you were hardly recognizable as yourself. The bra you’d bought specifically for this costume gave you decolletage you normally didn’t have, and the dress was rather plunging though you’d sewn in a nude mesh panel to keep something to the imagination, but the slit along the side also went all the way up your thigh. It was sexy but tasteful, and that’s how you hoped to come across that evening.

You deemed yourself as ready as you’d ever be, took a couple of photos and texted them to your best friend for approval, and walked outside immediately to be blasted with a gust of cold air. “Nope!” you squealed, running back in and grabbing your winter jacket and gloves. You were just going to have to deal with your winter gear; it was far too cold to go bare-shouldered.

You took the tube across London, and many people were dressed up; you were pretty sure you spied a banana, a taco, and a handful of Spice Girls. No one else seemed to bat an eyelash, and you spent the ride across the city texting back and forth with your best friend, who had squealed at how gorgeous you looked. You normally spent your days in work slacks or leggings, but today you actually did feel pretty, and wondered if you’d catch anyone’s eye tonight. Not that you were necessarily looking for a hookup, but what happened on Halloween night, stayed on Halloween night.

You were actually feeling nervous by the time you reached your tube stop, and you followed the Google directions to the proper street, gasping at the size of the house; well, really it looked like a mansion to you. Whoever was throwing this party was exceedingly rich, and you almost turned away before someone you presumed was a valet approached you and escorted you inside. They led you to the coat check and you marveled at the architecture of the entrance hall alone, mesmerized by the place, which was decorated to the nines. You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Christmas; these were the kind of people who probably paid for it to be decorated for literally every holiday and season.

You wandered in amongst the crowd, most people already paired off in the groups they arrived with, and you quickly acquired a flute of champagne from one of the trays being carried about by servers. You knew what your boss was wearing, as he’d made sure you could find him, but you weren’t tall and so you had to weave yourself in and around people chatting animatedly, avoiding random flailing arm and stepping around already-tipsy masked men and women. The place was dripping in decadence and you felt slightly out of place, to be honest.

Suddenly a man swayed into your path and you jumped back in order to keep him from knocking you over, but you had backed into someone else on accident behind you. You spun around quickly to apologize, feeling embarrassed, but the apology died on your lips as you took in the costumed man in front of you.

“Ahhh, my Christine, I’ve been looking all over for you!” he grinned congenially, making your heart skip a few beats. The suit and cape he was wearing were sharp and fit his body well but that’s not what you noticed first. His green eyes peered out at you from behind a Phantom mask, but it had been done in an inventive way so the whole face was covered; the part that wasn’t white was done in glittery black. You had no idea who was behind that mask, but his smile was charming as hell.

“I, um, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Phantom,” you stumbled over your words as his eyes fairly twinkled at you, sweeping over your body and somehow making you feel exposed.

“The pleasure is certainly all mine,” he said, taking your hand so gently in his and placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “What’s a Phantom after all without his muse?” he asked, his voice somehow familiar to you even though you couldn’t place it. You weren’t even sure how to respond when someone put their hands on your shoulders from behind.

“There you are! Glad you could make it!” your boss said as you whirled around a bit.

“I’ve been looking all over for you!” you replied with a laugh, turning to say something to the Phantom but he had already melted back into the crowd, like mist in the wind. You frowned slightly to yourself but hoped you’d run into each other again, and then followed your boss back over to his group, sipping your champagne and having small conversations with people he introduced you to, people whose names you wouldn’t remember after tonight.

You did have a fun time despite yourself, snacking on hors d’oeuvres and imbibing even more champagne, feeling a bit tipsy and also trying to catch further glimpses of the Phantom, but he was proving to be quite elusive as the evening wore on. Your boss was kind and engaging with you, but at some point got suckered into a conversation about stocks and bonds and you were entirely bored to death, so you quietly slipped away from the conversation, taking a self-led tour of the place and snapping a couple of pictures to send your friend.

<Can you believe this place?> you texted, standing next to some kind of pumpkin display, festooned in black and orange and purple lights and ribbons and cobwebs. 

“What’s a lovely woman such as yourself doing standing here all alone?” a voice asked you, and you turned around to find yourself face-to-face with the unidentified phantom again.

“I was looking for you!” you said in surprise, before you could think better of it.

“Were you?” he asked, and even if you couldn’t see his face, you could imagine him quirking his eyebrow up to match the crooked smile he gave you.

“Not for any particular reason,” you said, fidgeting with the sleeves of your dress slightly.

“Well, that’s too bad. I thought it’d be nice to get to know you better,” he said, taking a sip of the drink in his hand, a dark brown liquid swirling inside.

“Oh, I thought that too,” you said, almost shyly as he leaned in quite close to you. You were a bit overwhelmed with how beautiful he was, even though you could only see half his face. You resisted the urge to reach out and run your fingers along his sharp jawline; you were tipsy but not so drunk as to just randomly touch a man you didn’t even know. Still, the way he was staring at you made a thrill run down your spine.

“So what brought you here tonight?” he asked casually, both of you quite forgotten by the rest of the crowd in the little alcove you were standing in.

“Oh, I work for someone who was invited and I’m an exec assistant so I guess he just decided I should come along,” you shrugged. “What about you?”

“I … work in the entertainment business,” he hedged slightly.

“What kind of answer is that?” you laughed. “That could be anything at all.”

“Would you like to tour this house?” he asked suddenly, tipping his head back and downing the rest of his drink.

“Uh, sure,” you replied.

“Alright good, stay right here,” he said, squeezing your hand slightly before disappearing into the crowd again for a minute. You were confused but obliged, and when he returned he had two cold longnecks in his hands.

“Ahhh, good idea,” you laughed as he handed one off to you and you took a sip of the beer, which was surprisingly just a regular pedestrian brand. You giggled slightly as he took your hand again and led you toward the grand staircase.

“You sure we’re allowed?” you asked, and he just shrugged as you both nearly tripped on your dress on your way up the stairs, giggling and slightly out of breath when you reached the landing. It was much quieter up here, and you hadn’t realized how much the music had been making your head dizzy. Or maybe it was the alcohol you’d consumed. Or maybe just the close proximity of this handsome stranger beside you.

Either way, you followed after him, examining the massive paintings hanging on the walls along the plush carpeted hallway. “Imagine having so much excessive wealth that you could have a house like this. It’s practically like living in a museum,” he sighed. So definitely not rich then, you thought to yourself. Maybe some kind of production assistant? You were still trying to puzzle out who he was, still troubled by the fact that he seemed somehow familiar. But you were quite certain if you had known him from before, you would have recognized him immediately.

“What’s in here?” he said, just randomly opening doors, and you were mostly just amused at his antics. He was clearly way past drunk, but you were enjoying being in this space with him too much to point it out.

“Hey look, a study,” he said, pointing at it before pulling you inside and letting the door shut behind you. He searched for a desk lamp and found one, turning it on and illuminating the deep cherry wood paneling and burgundy carpet. 

“Damn,” you commented. “Pretty sure this room alone is more expensive than anything I’ll ever own in my lifetime,” you laughed.

“Definitely more bougie than anything I’d ever own,” he chuckled as you walked around, checking out titles on the bookshelves.

“Must be a lawyer. That would make sense,” you said as you ran your finger over the spines of the books before turning around and finding him standing right next to you, staring at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher thanks to the mask. He hesitantly reached out and then swept a lock of your hair off your shoulder, tilting his head and gazing at you.

“I’d quite like to kiss you,” he said, his voice a bit rough, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

“Okay,” you said, not even knowing why you had agreed, but something told you you wouldn’t be regretting it. He stepped in close, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, but it didn’t bother you at all. He placed a hand at the nape of your neck and after hesitating a moment more, finally pressed his lips to yours. You had no idea who he was, but damn could he kiss like no one else. You felt like you’d suddenly tapped into a live wire as one kiss turned into another and into another. It was like neither of you could get enough of each other, and suddenly his tongue was dancing in your mouth with yours, setting your body alight as the kisses deepened into something much more needy. When you both had to come up for air, he looked a bit taken aback with his actions, but all you wanted was more.

“I’m terribly sorry, I… I’m not exactly the kind of guy to just kiss random ladies in random places,” he said, but you shook your head.

“Tonight’s a night for mystery and mayhem. If there’s any better night to find that, well, I’m glad I’ve found it with you,” you smirked lightly at him. His hesitation was sweet and kind of adorable, but all you could focus on was the insistent throbbing between your legs that he had awakened.

“Mystery and mayhem, yeah?” he chuckled, taking a long drag of his beer before setting it down on the edge of the desk. You walked up to him and pushed him up against the desk lightly, peering into those green eyes, seeing the evident lust there.

“No one else here but just the two of us. Perhaps the phantom would like to live out his fantasy with Christine after all?” you smirked. You’d never really come onto a guy before like this, but something about the masks made you brave. You could walk away from this never knowing each other, and it would be nothing more than a drunken memory. You saw him swallow hard, his green eyes wrestling with something for a moment, but he must have decided “fuck it” because he suddenly wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you into him, attacking you with fierce kisses that took your breath away.

You moaned slightly into his mouth as his fingers grazed over your bare shoulders, goosebumps already standing out on your skin as he dropped his kisses to our neck. You tilted your head to give him better access, those velvety smooth lips leaving fire along your skin. He turned you both around until you were the one leaning against the desk, and his hands had found the thigh-high slit in your dress, pushing the material aside and seeking purchase even as he trailed kisses over your chest, yanking the bodice of your dress low but not completely undressing you.

When his fingers found your aching, wet core, he let out a strangled sound to find you weren’t wearing anything underneath that dress. You groaned at the touch of his fingers over your folds, dragging your juices over your sensitive nub even as he captured your lips in kisses again. You were completely at a loss for what he was doing to you, your head thrown back in ecstasy; it was almost as if he’d put you under a spell, a sexy one at that, and you were helpless to break it.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he slid two fingers into you, your fingers gripping his biceps for support as he started to pump them in and out of you slowly.

“You are so fucking hot,” he groaned, his voice deep and gravelly and full of lust for you. “I thought it the minute I saw you across the room. Never thought I’d get to have my way with you,” he growled, nipping your skin with his teeth.

“Oh god,” you gasped, trying to hold on but you could feel your muscles clenching, the spiral of your orgasm threatening to unravel. Suddenly he pulled his fingers away, leaving you wanting and desperate for more. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked your arousal from them, and you nearly came at the sight of that alone.

You immediately reached for the belt of his pants, undoing it quickly and then fumbling with the zipper before pulling them down, desperately needing more. He lifted you up slightly until you were sitting on the desk, then laying you down before lifting your skirt up and over your hips, spreading your legs wide. You whined in anticipation as he took his cock out of his briefs, stroking himself a few times before lining up with you and thrusting into you with abandon. You cried out, but it was more pleasure than pain as he filled you up completely, leaning over you and panting in your face.

“Fuck, darling,” he groaned, his hands splayed out on either side of you as you wrapped your legs around him, trying to pull him in even closer. He took the hint and started pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the empty room. You tried to muffle your moans and groans but it was hard to do with this mystery man driving you absolutely insane. “That’s music to my ears, baby,” he spoke gruffly, his fingertips digging into your skin but you could care less. It was probably the hottest, craziest sex of your life, getting down to dirty business with a masked stranger in someone else’s house.

You didn’t even have time to reply as you started to cum around his length, your walls contracting around him, your entire body shaking as his thrusts began to grow sloppy. He soon spilled over into you, grunting as his cock twitched inside you and sent your entire world spinning. He pulled out quickly and looked around for something to clean you both up with, finding a packet of tissues in one of the desk drawers. You both quickly tried to put your clothes right again, giggling slightly together in your mutual drunk, post-sex haze.

“Do I...thank you now?” he chuckled, running his fingers through his slicked-back hair and messing it up a bit. 

“You don’t need to say anything at all. Just shut up and look pretty,” you giggled at his bemused expression. You reached over to smooth his hair back down and in a rare stroke of courage, slipped your fingers under the band holding his mask on and yanked it off his face. Your hands flew to your mouth and you gasped as you instantly recognized the man who had just fucked you into oblivion as none other than the Taron Egerton.

“Oh fuck,” you said, unable to tear your eyes away from him, as you’d had a crush on him for an embarrassingly long time. Your brain couldn’t even reconcile what you’d just done with him and the fact that he was standing there in front of you. If this got around, if anyone ever found out, you’d be completely scandalized. You could never live this down, you could never tell anyone. You felt suddenly, painfully sober as you hopped off the desk and pushed him away from you, ignoring his confused, hurt expression.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” you gasped, turning and fleeing out of the room, chastising yourself angrily even though there was no way you could have known it was him. But hadn’t you recognized that sexy voice, that sharp jawline, those sweet eyes? How had you not put it all together?

“Wait!” he called down the hallway as you headed for the stairs, hoping all of your body parts were covered. You tore down the steps two at a time and grabbed your coat from the coat check. A few people threw glances at your haste but didn’t try to stop you. You threw your coat on, glancing over your shoulder to see Taron descending down the stairs after you, but you already had a head start. You pushed your way out of the doors and into the cold night air, fleeing down even more stairs as one of the valets yelled out “Have a good night, miss!” You were fighting tears that were blurring your vision and two steps before the sidewalk you managed to trip on your dress, missing the last step and scraping your knee as you fell to the concrete. The fall had knocked the breath out of your lungs and you laid there for a moment, staring up at the dark, cloudy sky, blinded by the lights of the mansion.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Taron asked, kneeling down next to you and helping you sit up.

“I’m fine,” you said, brushing off your hands, your teeth already chattering from the bite of the air.

“Why did you run away from me?” he asked you, his eyes searching yours for some answer you weren’t sure you could give.

“I’m not some amazing actress or pretty woman you should be with. I’m just a nobody and… I’m not good enough to be with you,” you said, pulling the edges of your coat around you and staring at the blood welling up from the scrape on your knee.

“That’s bloody nonsense. You already told me who you were and I still chose to be with you. It’s not about money or fame or looks for me. You intrigued the hell out of me,” he said, gently removing the mask from my face and gazing at me fully. “ And you are absolutely beautiful, and I sure as fuck don’t regret what just happened back there,” he added softly. “But let’s get you back inside, and clean that up, and warm you up, and then you can tell me your name, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but nod at that; the way he was looking at you sent shivers of a different sort down your spine. He helped you limp back up the stairs and after making you sit on the toilet in the bathroom [which was as extravagant as every other part of the mansion], he went in search of some bandaids and returned after being successful, doctoring your knee up to the best of his ability. He’d also brought you a bottle of water and you took it gratefully when he handed it to you. “Y/n,” you said, as he took a seat on the edge of the tub. “My name is y/n.”

“Taron, but you already knew that,” he said, smiling at you a bit sheepishly. “And I really don’t do that, you know,” he said.

“I really don’t either, Taron. This was supposed to be no strings attached. I could walk away never knowing who you were.”

“But do you want to walk away, now that you know it’s me?” he asked quietly, looking vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected. It was almost like he’d grown attached to you somehow, but neither of you really knew each other, and that was the startling reality of it.

“I don’t, but where the hell would we go from here?” you asked, watching as a wicked grin spread over his face.

“My place, for starters. We could certainly get to know each other better,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at you, and you couldn’t deny the excitement rising in your chest at the thought of that. “I might have more tricks and treats up my sleeves after all,” he said with a smirk, his eyes burning into you a bit. “So should we leave and see what else the night has in store for our long-lost lovers?” he said, his words tugging at your heart yet again. You were at his total mercy, it seemed, caught up in the spell of this green-eyed man who was no longer just a stranger.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said as he reached out his hand to you. You placed yours gently in his and let him escort you out of the bathroom. You had to laugh when the song being pumped through the sound system was appropriately “Music of the Night,” part of whatever spooky playlist someone had put together. The mood was fitting as you swept back out into the night, the cold wind making the edges of Taron’s cape flutter around you both. You would never have guessed when you’d chosen this costume that you would have been caught up in the magic and madness of the night. 

But one thing that night was for certain; Taron had taken possession of your soul, and you were completely at his mercy. He was sweetly intoxicating, more than just a face behind a mask, and the best part was that he was all yours.

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Sweltering

This is a request from a few months ago? Well technically two in one. Someone asked for Arthur and reader to go swimming and another asked for the same thing but with smut SOOOOOO

You swore that Hell itself had rolled through your little town overnight.

It was only 10 am, and even through the air conditioning of your house, the heat was sleeping through slowly. You sat at your kitchen table, munching on some cereal as you scanned the weather app on your phone. It was 86 degrees, and due to reach almost 100 by midafternoon. You sighed and put it down, knowing it would probably be best to stay in today.

“Somethin’ wrong, darlin’?”

You looked up at Arthur who sat across from you. “It’s gonna be hotter than Satan’s balls today,” you replied, “It’s just an expression.” You quickly added with a giggle, catching the look of confusion on his face.

He hummed in response, glancing out at the window. The sun shone through the blinds, streaming a golden light into the kitchen. “Good thing we ain’t out there then.” He chuckled slightly.

You nodded, finishing off your meal before standing up. Halfway across the kitchen, the steady hum of your air conditioner suddenly went short. You stopped in your tracks, listening to the now complete silence that surrounded you. ”Uh…”

“What?”

Your eyes first went for the microwave, searching for the bright green numbers on the screen. There were none. You turned and flipped the light switch experimentally, your gaze fixated on the bulb above. Nothing happened.

“Well,” you sighed. “There goes the power. Which means it’s gonna get hot in here real quick.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and looked at you curiously. “So what now?”

You sighed in thought, wondering what the extent of this power outage was. Town-wide? County-wide? How soon would it come back on? Either way, you weren’t determined to sit around and find out. You scratched your head, contemplating on driving around town to see if any stores would be open to keep cool in. Perhaps the movies, even?

Grabbing your phone, you began to check your social media. Statuses began to appear, complaining about the recent outage. Apparently it was county wide, meaning you were shit out of luck for doing anything local. You groaned lightly and scrolled through some more absentmindedly, hoping for some other news, until something caught your eye. It was just a simple ad, one that you’d scrolled past dozens of times. A photo of an island beach with clear skies and crystal clear water against perfect white sand.

You hadn’t been to the beach in forever.

“Arthur,” you looked up from your phone. “How do you feel about going to the beach?”

--

In an attempt to beat the heat that slowly crept into your house, it didn’t take long for you to get ready. Although you spent at least ten minutes trying to dig your bathing suit from storage, silently cursing yourself that you hadn’t done it much earlier this year. After putting a light colored sundress overtop it, you began to pack other necessities. Towels, sunscreen, sandwich ingredients and drinks, the works.

Since you didn’t have swim trunks for Arthur, you planned on stopping by one of the surf shops to grab a pair. Once you had a tote bag and a cooler packed and ready to go, the two of you headed outside. Stepping outside was like diving into a blanket of fire, the heat pressing into you as you hurried to your car.

The initial drive wasn’t long; at least an hour. The scenery gradually changed, the mountains giving way to summer rental houses and corner shops. You passed by many boats being towed, cars with surfboards or kayaks on top. The sidewalks were littered with people in shorts and tank tops, excited kids already in swimsuits carrying buckets and shovels.

It was obvious that it would be busy today, to which you didn’t mind. You found a parking spot fairly close to the shoreline, although your first goal was to get Arthur his own swimsuit. Stepping out, you could smell the ocean in the warm breeze. You led him to the nearest shop, which was fairly busy. You managed to locate swim trunks, pointing them out to him so he could pick out a pair.

You noted the look of confusion on his face. Of course, swimsuits from his time were much different. He eventually pulled out a pair of dark blue trunks, which you promptly paid for and headed back out.

The walk from the shop to the shore took only five minutes, but you were sweating already. From the edge, you observed the huge crowd that already took up the majority of the beach. It certainly would be hard to find a spot, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Off to the side, a building with bathrooms caught your attention. The changing area.

Wandering over, you pointed Arthur to one of the changing stalls. As you waited, you peeled off your sundress. You were eager to get into the water and cool off.

Hearing the door open, you turned to see Arthur stepping out. He seemed a little shy, looking left and right before emerging entirely. God, you could never get tired of looking at that man’s torso. As soon as his gaze landed on you, his eyes widened.

Of course, this was his first time seeing a bikini.

“Jesus, Y/N. You’re practically naked!” he exclaimed.

You merely shrugged. “These are pretty common, don’t get yourself worked up.”

He mumbled something that you didn’t hear, and you began walking out into the sand. Up close it was easier to find a spot, placing yourself a small distance between other beachgoers. You could feel Arthur’s eyes on you as you set up the towels and umbrella.

Once you finished, you eagerly shook your sandals off and turned to face him. It’s as if the awe were permanently plastered on his face as he was poorly hiding it. “Arthur?” you said, catching his attention. “Arthur, you’ve seen me naked. And look around, most women are dressed like me. This isn’t a big deal.”

His cheeks flushed slightly, tearing his gaze from you as he rubbed his neck sheepishly. “M’ sorry, just ain’t used to…seein’ you like this in public. I’m from-”

“A different time, I know,” you huffed slightly. “Just ignore it, okay? We’re here to cool off and have fun,” you reached out for his hand. “Now, let’s get into the water!”

He looked at you again. “You go on n’ have fun. I’ll join ya in a bit…I’m hungry.” He added, noting the look you gave him.

“Alright, don’t take too long, cowboy.” you said, stretching up to kiss his cheek before stepping away and running to the water.

As you approached the water line, you stepped into an rolling creep of a wave. The cool water immediately felt so relaxing, washing up over your feet. Walking in closer, allowing yourself to become waist deep before diving in, engulfing yourself within an oncoming wave. The force pushed you back up to the surface. Taking a deep breath, you whipped your hair out of your face. The water felt so refreshing.

Continuing to swim around, diving into waves and floating atop them, you realized a little bit of time had passed and Arthur hadn’t joined you. You glanced out towards the sand, spotting him sitting underneath the umbrella. He didn’t seem to be eating like he said he would.

Frowning, you made your way back to the shallows and stepped back onto the sand. Dodging a pack of little kids, you approached him. He had his knees up, arms wrapped around them and looking uncomfortable. Upon seeing you, his expression changed. “Done already?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I’m wondering why you’re not joining me. And why you haven’t eaten yet.” You glanced toward the cooler that hadn’t changed position since your arrival.

“I…” he trailed off, shifting slightly in his spot. “I just…”

Your head tilted in curiosity, and you knelt down in front of him, feeling genuinely concerned. “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

He broke his gaze from you, although you could have sworn his eyes went straight for your cleavage beforehand. His cheeks bloomed pink. “It’s…kinda embarrassin’…” he murmured so quietly you had to strain to hear.

“What?” you asked, leaning a little closer to him.

His lips pursed, still keeping his head turned. “I, uh…” he huffed. “I-I have a problem…”

You stared. “Problem?” you repeated, unsure what he meant.

“You know…” he continued, giving you a side glance. “My-”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly. His flinch calmed you down. “Sorry,” you dropped your voice, shuddering with a small giggle. “Really?”

“It’s that damn swimsuit,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t help it…”

You couldn’t help but to giggle more. “Is that all? Why are you embarrassed about that?”

He gave a sigh of annoyance. “Cause I can’t get rid of it, Y/N. I try to think o’ somethin’ else, but nothin’ helps. All I see is you…in that godforsaken outfit.”

Oh, this poor man. More like a hormonal teenager who thought with his dick. You kept that thought to yourself, however. You reached out to caress his cheek. “Guess I should have shown you beforehand, huh?”

“So I could fuck ya in the privacy of your home, yeah.” He muttered, though slight amusement in his voice.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at this. So straightforward. “So…you wanna fuck me right now?” You asked.

He snorted slightly, staring at you directly now. “You have no idea, woman.”

His expression was so intense, those blue eyes reflecting the arousal within him. It wasn’t the ideal place to do so, not while being surrounded by families. You glanced back toward the changing building. A little bit of a distance away, but somewhat private. Maybe you could get away with it.

“Then let’s fix that,” you gestured for him to stand. “Come on.”

He looked at you, confused and surprised. “What...wait, I can’t-”

“Tuck it in your waistband, silly,” you instructed. “Then follow me back to the building.”

Arthur did as you told, carefully shifting himself without making his actions too obvious. He then stood up awkwardly, trying hard not to tug on the fabric as he stepped behind you. He kept close as you led the way, noting the amount of people entering and exiting the changing stalls.

They were mostly empty by the time you’d approached them, with a couple still closed. Quickly looking around, you pulled Arthur into one farthest away from anything else. Closing the door behind him, you turned to face the blushing cowboy.

“Ya sure we’re good in here?” He asked, appearing sheepish. “Ain’t want trouble from anyone.”

“We’ll be fine,” you said reassuringly, reaching for his swim trunks. Tucking on the drawstring, you loosened the waistband. The bulge underneath immediately released with it, and you tugged the fabric down to unveil it in its entirety. “Just be quiet.” You added, wrapping your hand around his length.

His breath hitched slightly at your touch. He opened his mouth to speak, yet was cut off when your mouth engulfed the head with ease. A low groan emanated from his stomach as he leaned against the wall.

You teased him first, sucking just a little and placing small kisses along his warm pink flesh. His hand tangled itself within your wet hair, prompting you to go further. You did so, slowly taking his length to the root, before pulling back and bobbing slowly.

He shuddered against the wall, quietly moaning your name. His touch gentle, yet firm as he pressed on the back of your head for more. You have in to the pressure, swallowing him a few more times at a tantalizingly slow pace. Though you weren’t planning to spend much time on the foreplay.

 Another moment passed by, sliding your lips back to the tip, popping them off before standing back up. The slight forlorn look on his face soon changed when you shimmied off the bottom of your bikini.

It was as if a switch had been flipped. The hunger in his eyes gleamed brightly as he practically lunged forward to you, his hands gripping your hips hard it was almost painful. “Turn around.” He commanded, the dominant growl in his throat sent a shiver down your spine.

You obeyed silently, turning to face the opposite wall and sticking your ass out teasingly. You heard him make a satisfied noise as his hands ran down your back. He squeezed the soft flesh of your butt as he stepped forward, running his erection along your folds and center. It didn’t take long for him to begin, easily sheathing himself in one smooth glide. You gasped softly as your inner walls stretched for him, and uttered a soft moan as he began to move within you.

He gripped your hips again, using the leverage to drive himself deeper. The sudden change brought up a yelp that you bit down. It certainly would be hard to keep quiet.

“You feel amazin’,” he growled lowly, leaning to kiss the back of your neck. “Fuck…”

Your only answer was a moan, your back arching to enhance your pleasure. He hit your G-spot perfectly, your knees buckling from the sheer ecstasy that washed over your body. He managed to hold you still, pounding away with such power.

His teeth ravaged your flesh, knowing he’d leave marks on your already mostly bare body. His nails dug into your skin, so tight with your hips. He was relentless in his pursuit of his pleasure, wanting nothing more to release the energy into you. The way his voice rumbled was like music to your ears.

He whispered profanities to you, sinful utterances which ignited your core even more. A hand brushed against your belly before his fingers found your clit, expertly dancing against your sensitive nerves. Throwing your head back, forcing down another yelp that nearly left your lips. Arthur was quick, covering your mouth with his other hand. Though muffled, you were able to express your pleasure.

“That’s it, darlin’.” He groaned to you. He eagerly buried himself to the hilt over and over, feverishly toying with you without a pause. Somehow it seemed as if he was going even faster, the sounds of his hips slapping against your ass overtook your muffled mewls.

Your peak was arriving quickly, your mind too addled to staunch it. The climb was short; the explosive ache that cascaded down your core. You sang out loud, though still stifled by Arthur.

“That’s m’girl.” he huffed, pausing to kiss the back of your neck. The fresh moment of intimacy swayed you, your knees trembling, threatening to buckle as your body came down from your high. He didn’t give you any time to recover, as he thrust deep within once again. His hand moved from your soaked pussy to run his hand down your back a second time before gripping your waist.

“Arthur!” you cried out against his fingers, the muscles in your legs almost rendered to jelly. It was amazing how you still stood, though part of it had to be from him. Pinned between the wall and his strong grip, letting him have his way in this miniscule changing booth.

“I-I’m close.” he grunted, shoving himself even harder within you. Tears formed in your eyes as he hit a sensitive spot, though the pain felt wonderful. Your hands grasped at the smooth wall, unable to hold onto anything. With a few more heavy pounds, he released your mouth to grip your waist hard, so hard that you whined. Growling your name, his hips pressed hard with yours, he held you still as his spend emptied deep within you.

The silence surrounded the two of you for a long moment, until Arthur eased his grip. He pulled away from you slowly, a trail of his seed dripping down your leg instantly. He took a deep, shuddering breath and straightened up. You turned to face him, pulling the swimsuit bottoms up, the warmth gathering in the damp fabric.

“Feel better?” you asked, a hint of amusement in your voice.

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly. “Christ, that’ll keep me good for a while.” He pushed his slightly sweaty hair out of his face and fixed his swim trunks.

“Good,” you responded. “Now will you join me in the water?”

He gave a short chuckle. “’Course.”

You exited the booth first, carefully peering around to make sure no one was within vicinity. You hoped no other beachgoers heard what was going on, but it seemed safe enough. Arthur quickly joined you, heading back to your spot on the beach as if nothing happened. Despite the ache that lingered between your legs, you were able to hit the waves once again, pulling Arthur in with you.

[q00kies]

00Q fic rec list

So, those are my favorite 00Q fics and I thought I might make a list of them ! Most of these include pining and emotional constipation on some level.

The favorites

Sigh No More, by dhampir72 rating : T  words : 20K

Bond wants nothing more than for someone, just once, to be waiting for him at the airport when he returns home. 

My favorite. The characterization is beautiful and gives depth to a damaged, vulnerable James Bond. “Do you want me to arrange a car for you?” Q asks. “I want you to come get me,” Bond says. [...] Q says: “Okay.”

come a lily, come a lilac, by pdameron rating : T warning : AU - flower shop words : 8K

"Most people just pick whatever flower they think is prettiest. It doesn’t require a lot of input from me.” The man walks up to Q, leaning against the counter between them. “Well then, what can I do to get your input?” (In which Q runs a flower shop, and his newest regular is almost definitely a spy.)

This fic features all the good tropes : violent mutual pining, misunderstandings, mild angst, fluff, humor. The characterizations and banter are excellent. pdameron is my favorite 00Q writer, you should read everything they’ve written. 

Ordinary Numbers, by Bootsnblossom, Kyptaria rating : T warning : AU - different first meeting, AU - Q is not Q yet words : 44K

More than anything, Mike Taylor wanted to be ordinary. Being a genius, he learned early in life, meant people expected too much. A career at the MI6 Help Desk seemed the perfect way to guarantee a lifetime of obscurity, until he got a very unusual tech support call.

Excellent plot and detailed writing. Such a worthy and satisfying read.

Ulysses, by girlbookwrm rating : T words : 89K

“Paperwork for the new head of Q-Branch,” Tanner said.“Of course.” The words were like glass in his throat. Smoke inhalation was a bitch. His brain felt slow and foggy, like it was full of smoke too. “Who shall I take them to?”M lifted one white brow. “They’re for you, Quartermaster.”Bond and Q are drawn together by names, work, and a certain Aston Martin. In which Q is kidnapped once, Bond is poisoned twice, and Eve is a badass on at least three occasions. AKA that time I tripped and wrote 80,000 words of 00Q.All titles unapologetically stolen from Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

This also features all the good tropes imaginable. Like, everything you need. Delicious read. Brillant writing. Dialogues and narration were clever. Beginning is Skyfall and Spectre rewrite but don’t let that deter you, it only lasts for 2 chapters or so and it’s well done.

Long-ride / slow-burn

Lay it down, by damphir72 rating : M words : 81K

Bond and Q agreed: their relationship was nothing more than physical. Until it suddenly isn't.

sick fic. Bond takes care of Q. Similar to Where You Are, with such dedication and softness and love. 

Nodus Tollens, by Only_1_Truth rating : T words : 88K

Nodus Tollens: the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore Q's life at the technical help department of MI6 was decently quiet and paid reasonably well - it even gave him vacation time, although he rarely used it. So when Q was finally coaxed to leave work for a bit and relax, he thought that Paris might be fun. Of course, that was before the gunfight, witnessing a shooting, and being kidnapped by a strange, blue-eyed gunman named James Bond.

Yours, J, by swtalmnd rating : E words : 39K

Bond sends letters. Q is vexed. Q-branch starts a betting pool. There are an appalling amount of sweets. Also, 002 is a bit of an arse.

haven’t finished this one yet but recing it because it’s GOOD. pining hell “He was the one person James Bond didn’t want to seduce”. urhhh

Quriosity, by dr_girlfriend rating : E words : 79K

COMPLETE! Bond finds himself increasingly curious about his enigmatic Quartermaster. Excerpt: "Your prior hotel is no longer secure, I will direct you to a new location. Your luggage has already been transferred. A field agent and medic from the Diréction Générale de la Sécurité d'État will be waiting at the side entrance. I have cleared them both personally." In contrast to his crisp dry English, Q's pronunciation of the French words was fluid and flawless, the throaty tone of the fricatives sending a surprising jolt of awareness straight to Bond's cock — all the more remarkable given his degree of blood loss. "You're wasted on Q-branch, you have the voice for a phone-sex call-in line." The words slipped out of Bond's mouth without forethought, although he had plenty of time to think in the sudden pause that came afterward and stretched on for endless moments. Bond hadn't realized until now how Q was always there, with an immediate reply. In all their banter Q had never before been at a loss for words. Ever.

classic. very in character : the banter, the dynamics. good tropes. 

Humor

Dramatic Arts, by scioscribe rating : T warnings : none words : 2,9K

In which Spectre is actually Bond's poorly written attempt at falsifying a mission report. Q wants a flight simulator, Eve wants more lines, and M wants a drink. Everybody's a critic.

So If You Give, by TheCatOnTheMoon rating : T words : 6,1K

Bond gives Q things because of reasons. Q thinks that Bond completely misses the point.

Hilarous. MI6 works like B99. Q is everyone’s darling.

some guys just can’t hold their arsenic, by pdameron rating : T words : 5,8K

“Motherfucking - goddamn - fucking shit!” “Good lord, Q,” Bond says from behind him with no small amount of amusement. “One would think you’d never been in a quarantine before.”

a lot of pining and them being dumb. hilarous dialogues. the writer writes WELL.

By no Ordinary Means of Communication, by laughtershock rating :  E words : 7,9K

Q can’t help but wonder how, exactly, his life has come to this (The one where Bond discovers post-it notes, Q discovers how not to talk about feelings, and together, they fight crime make things far more complicated than necessary.)

this is here because I love the sex scene in it : Q gets plugged for a meeting.

million dollar question, by skylights rating : G words : 5K

Q doesn’t bend for anything and Q certainly doesn’t break for anyone, especially when it comes to stubborn double-ohs intent on making Q’s life hell, so when Q wakes up on a Saturday morning to 12 new texts from Bond and the incessant ringing of his flat’s doorbell, Q makes sure to bring a gun to answer the door. “Delivery for one…Quabik Quadree?” Q feels the weight of the Glock 19 in the pocket of his dressing gown and sincerely wonders whether to shoot the delivery man or himself. (or, that fic where everyone wants to know Q's name and stupid things happen in the process)

Fluff

A modest proposal, by Tokyo_the_Glaive rating : T words : 3,3K

Or, five times Bond asked Q to marry him, and one time Q beat him to the punchline.

there’s love to be had, by pdameron rating : T words : 1,2K

“I won’t begrudge you your happy ending, Bond. If you want to ride off into the sunset, MI6 won’t stop you,” Mallory says. “But I will say this. If you do walk away, take care with what you leave behind.”

(In which Bond has a bit of an epiphany on the bridge and finds that he can't leave MI6 just yet.)

I don’t take your pleasure for granted, by CatchClaws rating : M words : 6,2K

Q tries to talk himself out of having a crush on James Bond. Bond makes that rather difficult.

In which Bond reads sci-fi books. Well written. Banter is delightful.

please stay, by pinknamjoon rating : T words : 2,7K

Bond keeps flirting with Q while he's on missions, both over the comms and through surveillance cameras, and Q is extremely flustered.

Name on my skin, by the runawaypen rating : G warning : SOULMATES !! words : 900

Everyone has the name of their soulmate written on their skin. And Q can't help but feel excited to learn that the James Bond written on his wrist is one 007. It's a shame James doesn't know Q's real name. Things could have been simpler.

Angst (with happy ending. always)

Remember me, by Jen (ConsultingWriters) rating : T words : 5,6K

Bond has lost his memory. Q has lost his love. "What have I forgotten?” Bond asked; Q watched him, trying to find the James he knew. “Nothing that you won’t work out on your own, if it’s really important,” Q said carefully, before returning every fraction of his attention to the computer in front of him.

dying noises

Loneliness is a disease, by fairyjimjam rating : T words : 9,5K

Q stands up, nearly breathless, and ventures towards the lift. Bond is back. He's back. Back. Back Back Back- "I need a car." Q stops in his tracks. He's not back. No of course he isn't. Q's chest hurts. "Have fun at an automobile shop then," is what slips out of his mouth.

Q is absolutely miserable after Bond’s left and Bond is clueless. Sad pining hell. What’s new. Ending is dubious though. 

just like old times (please, don’t ever change), by Rosslyn rating : T words : 5,1K

Sometimes when Q is alone in his workshop and there is an experiment that needs to be supervised and he can’t go home and he can’t sleep, he watches Bond’s vitals.

canon

as permanent as stone cathedrals, by pdameron rating : T words : 6,0K

Q has been in love for two years, six months, and twelve days when James Bond walks away, leaving him with a bleeding head and a broken heart on a dark and noisy London bridge.

If you didn’t get the hint, yes, go and read everything this author has ever written.

Bittersweet, by dr_girlfriend rating : M words : 14K

The first time Bond flirted with Q, it was purely out of self-defense. The second time Bond flirted with Q was largely manipulation. The third time Bond flirted with Q, he just wanted to feel something. The fourth time Bond flirted with Q was out of sheer boredom.

Somehow, flirting with Q became something of a habit for Bond.

And then, it became something else.

features rejection hmm delicious. ‘Those who love to pursue fleeting forms of pleasure, in the end find only leaves and bitter berries in their hands’

Missed chances, by cherrygoldlove rating : G words : 2,7K

Eve leaned across Q's desk.” Bond has someone!” Q's eyebrow lifted as he sent her a quick look from above his glasses. “He has someone every thirty minutes.” He returned his gaze to the screen and continued to type; “No, not like that! He has someone long term, they're dating!”

misunderstandings, jealous Q, fake relationship, angstish, heartbreak, pining what more ?

Favours, by dhampir72 Rating : T Words : 6,1K

James Bond never looks at Q unless he wants something.

it’s not angst but idk where to put this. pining. 

Omega verse

The two fics below are mpreg-free, don’t feature any consent issues and are full of pining. Alpha!Bond and Omega!Q

A Matter of Convenience, by junetangerine (culuyetille) rating : E words : 19K

‘twas why the whole thing had been sanctioned in the first place: minimal disturbance of the status quo, just a blip in their routine, no consequences. So what if the Quartermaster had had an untimely, dangerous heat and 007 had been the one assigned to see him through it. Both of them knew better than to let anything come of it. (Alpha/Omega dynamics) 

Light omega fic. This is the only omegaverse fic you need to read. Wonderful ! 

Where you are, by dhampir72 rating : E warning : WIP 5/7 chapters BUT chapter 5 can be considered as a satisfying ending. words : 44K

An Omega unable to create life is a creature to be pitied, or at least, that is what society says. Q is fine with it, really. He had never wanted children anyway...and settling down with a mate never truly sounded appealing. So he’s fine with it: being alone, bearing no children. It’s fine.Until it isn’t.

Angsty omega fic. Q is diseased, Bond takes care of him with such dedication and softness and selfless love. I cried. (no tragic ending)

Porn without plot

Gloria in excelsis, by feelslikefire rating : E warning : barebacking words : 3,8K

Q has a dirty secret; Bond has an attraction and now he's got the excuse to act on it. Smut featuring glory hole(s).

glory hole

Resource sharing, by rsadelle rating : E  Warning : dom/sub, Bond/Q/Trevelyan threesome, double-penetration words : 3,4K

Q experiences what it means when James says he and Alec share everything.

[xmagicxshopx]

😈 Secret Admirer 😈 Epilogue

Genre: fantasy adventure, romance, angst Rating: PG-13 bordering M Warnings: brief but graphic violence, temporary deaths, angst Pairing: Jungkook x reader Notes: demon!jungkook au. Private Investigator Jungkook. Not idol!jungkook. Single quote marks ‘ ‘ are for thoughts and double “ “ are for talking. Additional Notes: This gets pretty emotional really quick. But I promise you, this is a happy ending~

Tagging: @sebastianshoe @fortunexkookie

Summary: All you’ve ever known is struggle. You fight to survive every day and you’re grateful for the little things. But one night, when you make a wish at 11:11pm on the 11th day of the 11th month…….your whole world gets turned upside down.

“Kookie.....Is this trip necessary???”

“Of course it is. Absolutely.”

“But what if they’re in there???”

“My beautiful angel.....that’s what we want.”

It had been three days since you discovered that your mysterious secret admirer was actually your coworker who turned out to be under cover as a private investigator. Not confusing at all, right? How about we throw in the fact that he’s a demon too. Yeah. That would explain the red eyes you had nicknamed him for.

You weren’t going to lie, it was quite the shock. Even more so when he explained to you how you had been in a coma for nearly six months. It didn’t even feel like that much time had passed. It just felt like you had fainted and woken up a few minutes afterward. How wrong you were.

It had all happened so fast. You woke up from your coma, discovered what Jungkook was, accepted him for what he was, and then you had blacked out. Only from Jungkook’s point of view, you had flat lined. He sat there frozen with confusion and fear as he watched the line on your monitor and the straight beep ringing in his ears.

You were dead.......

“No.....No.......No no no no no no no no. Human! Don’t do this! Don’t go! Don’t leave me! Come back!”

The demon had never ever lost his cool. It was just something he was good at. But having dealt with your absence for so long and to finally have you awaken only to be taken away from him a few minutes later......it broke him. He was in hysterics as he started sobbing over your motionless form; even going as far as trying to shake you back to life.

You were gone. You were on your way to Heaven.....

Wait......

That’s it.

He had to stop you.

Thinking fast and knowing time was short, the male climbed into bed with you and instantly fabricated a large kitchen knife with the snap of his fingers. As he positioned the tip of the knife to the spot over his chest where his black heart beat, he mumbled to himself,

“Probably overkill but nothing like making sure I don’t miss.”

Closing his eyes and calming himself enough to focus, Jungkook swiftly pushed the knife forward and ended up letting out a small choke before allowing himself to fall backward onto the bed; arms falling limp at his sides.

To any outsider, it would be like watching a modern play of Romeo and his beloved Juliet. There the two of you lay on his grand king sized bed. You with your lips blue and skin ashen gray. The demon motionless as black liquid poured from his self-inflicted wound; a small trickle of the same substance crawling its way down from the corner of his lips.

Jungkook woke up in a foggy field full of wild flowers. It was so peaceful as he sat up and gently rubbed the back of his head. Looking around, he took notice of a stream nearby with a few wild animals refreshing themselves with the crystal clear liquid. Looking down at himself, he realized his chest was completely free of injury and he was dressed in white.

“Little Human!”

That’s right. He was on a mission. Scrambling to his feet, the demon looked all around for some sort of path or directory that would tell him where you might be. Did Heaven even have a directory??? Just when he was about to say screw it and start running in a random direction, it was like his thoughts were being read as a stone pathway suddenly formed right in front of him.

Not even questioning it, Jungkook started into a sprint as he followed the newly laid path. He could only hope this path would lead him to you. The demon obviously wasn’t one to pray, but for the first time that he could recall, he was praying you hadn’t walked through the pearly white gates yet. He prayed that he was going to make it in time to stop you.

Honestly, it was a miracle the demon hadn’t burst into flames yet. He wasn’t exactly welcome here. Now that he thought about it, how had he even made it here??? Of course every one of God’s children were to be judged at their time of death, but one would think a demon would automatically be sent to hell, right? Hmm.....

And there you were; standing in front of the famous gates to Heaven. A paradise for all of God’s children who stay faithful to Him and His word. The perfect home for an angel like you.

But a place he could not follow.

You were absolutely beautiful. Stunning, even. Standing there looking the healthiest you had ever been with an excited smile on your face. Your skin had a radiant glow and the sundress you wore hugged your body perfectly. You were gorgeous. The angel to his demon. The light to his darkness. You were his other half.

And he couldn’t let you go through those gates.

“Wait! Don’t do it!”

‘Huh?’

You recognized that voice. Quickly turning around, you were shocked to find the male that had quickly become your whole world running right towards you. Within seconds, he had you wrapped up in his strong arms and was pulling you away from the entrance to Heaven. Confusion filled you as you tried to calm the frazzled boy down.

“Jungkook---What are you doing here??”

“You can’t go in there. You can’t.”

There the two of you stood with your arms around him rubbing his back and his face stuffed in the crook of your neck. Honestly if you weren’t already dead, you’d guess he was squeezing the life out of you with how strong he clung to you. Trying to get him to understand while still soothing him with back rubs, you spoke softly.

“Kookie. It’s my time to go. God told me I don’t have to struggle anymore. It’s time for me to go home.”

That only seemed to make things worse as you felt his towering form begin to shake against your smaller frame. If it were possible, it only made him cling to you tighter. With audible tears soaking your shoulder, he shook his head against your neck and managed to wail through his tears,

“No! I refuse to believe that! It’s not your time! Not yet!”

It broke your heart seeing him like this. He seemed like too good of a person to be a demon but the red eyes don’t lie. God his tears were making you cry now. Sniffling and whimpering, you clung to him just as tightly. Perhaps there was a part of you that didn’t want to leave if it meant being without him. You had grown quite close over your time together in the storage room of the department store.

You enjoyed his cheesy corny jokes and of course he always made sure you were eating and drinking plenty of water. Jungkook took care of you. Your secret admirer had been taking care of you all this time and you didn’t even know it. The repairs to the apartment, the new shoes, the sticky notes. Everything. It was all Jungkook. The big bad demon who was supposed to have a black heart.

But then it hit you......If you were here......and he was here......then that meant---

“Jungkook----You’re----”

“Dead. Yeah.”

You stared up at him wide-eyed while he smiled a bit sheepishly but sadly. He had finally stopped crying. Reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear, the demon explained in a soft voice,

“I had to stop you somehow. This was the only way I knew how.”

Before you could respond, he continued.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths, little human. Deaths that were well deserved. Souls that resembled rotten apples. Hearts blacker than the ace of spades. They deserved to die. But you......”

Your eyes began to water once more as you knew where this was going. You whimpered as he lovingly tried to wipe your tears before they could fall from your eyes; a sad smile on his face.

“You don’t. You deserve to live. A soul as pure as yours deserves a second chance. Take it. Live the life you were meant to live. You can have my apartment and my funds. While you were in a coma, I made up a will and put everything in your name should something happen to me.”

“Jungkook stop.”

But he just kept going.

“I’m a demon. A dark soul. A follower of Hades. I belong in hell. I deserve to die. But not without making sure you’re taken care of first. My precious little human. My angel. Please don’t cry.”

“Ahem.”

The two of you broke apart from your desperate clinging to each other only to turn around and see a young man dressed in a white robe with the hood up. He was standing by the gates with a warm smile on his face. His skin was the most beautiful tan you had ever seen and you were pretty sure those were dimples you saw coming from his smile.

“Hello, my children.”

You instantly recognized that voice. It was the voice of God Himself! Your eyes widened as you immediately gave a 90 degree bow to which the male only chuckled softly while waving a hand gently in the air.

“No need for formalities, my child. Please rise and face me as an equal.”

You felt Jungkook rest his large, warm hand on the small of your back as you straightened up once more to stare at the man Himself. Swallowing hard, you watched His smile widen a bit; a twinkle of amusement in His warm brown eyes.

“I see you are reconsidering your choice to come home.”

Eyes watering all over again, you sniffled to help stop your nose from running and making your face look even worse than it already was. Swallowing hard, you spoke in a begging voice,

“Please, Father, let Jungkook come with me.”

“Forgive me, my child. But Jungkook is not like you and I. He does not belong here. Where you and I go, he cannot follow.”

This only made you sob harder with your eyes screwed shut and your face twisting in emotional pain. Just when the demon himself was about to reach out and comfort you, he was shocked by the next words that came flying out of your mouth.

“Then let me take him with me back to Earth! If I go back, so does he! I’m not leaving him! I love him! We’re a package deal!”

Whoa. Okay. That definitely wasn’t what Jungkook was expecting. Did he hear you right? Did you just say that you.......that you loved him? All he could do was stare at you in shock while you stared firmly at the Heavenly Father Himself; a stubborn pout on your face the entire time.

Meanwhile, God was smiling fondly at the two of you. Things were going exactly as He had planned. It was true what they say, God has a plan for all of His children. That included you and your little demon boyfriend here. With soft chuckles, the pure male spoke with amusement in His voice.

“I thought you might say as much, my child. Fortunately for you, I came prepared for such a demand.”

And that was how you now found yourself three days later back on Earth standing in front of the department store you and Jungkook worked at for all those months. Hand-in-hand with you sporting a nervous expression while he was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Letting out a shaky breath, you watched the small cloud leave your mouth from how cold it was outside. It was November after all.

“Do we have to go in there? What if they recognize me???”

“Babe---again---that’s what we want. We want them to recognize you.”

You chewed on your bottom lip in extreme nervousness while the male simply glowed with giddiness and opened the door for you; gently nudging you in first before following close behind you. No longer were you shivering from the cold, but from nerves.

This was the first time you were back in the clothing store since your coma. It had been six months since you were last here. Surly they had replaced you already, right? Perhaps it had been so long that no one would recognize you. However, your persistent boyfriend was about to make sure they didn’t.

“Hello. Welcome to----”

Dang. So much for being forgotten. The two snooty girls who always stayed on register duty definitely recognized you as both you and Jungkook approached them. Good lord you really didn’t want to have this conversation. Your instincts drove you to cling against the male’s side like lint on his designer dress coat. Not able to find your voice, your boyfriend spoke for you in a chipper tone.

“Hello, ladies. My girlfriend and I are hoping to find her a new winter coat. Only the best for my angel, after all.”

Dear god he was laying it on thick, wasn’t he? You nearly squeaked in shock when you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head with his arm wrapped around you lovingly. Any other time, you would have mewled and cooed at the display of affection. However, right now, all you wanted was to hide in the nearest clothes rack and never come out.

The two girls stared on in shock as they tried to process what they were seeing. How could a handsome man like Jungkook be with a scrawny, poor peasant like you??? It didn’t make sense. However, upon seeing the male raise a curious eyebrow with an expression that clearly stated he was waiting for their assistance, the two girls immediately started to scramble and stumble over their words; trying to explain where the best coats were in the store and such.

“Thanks, ladies. My angel and I can take it from here.”

Needless to say, Jungkook pulled one last prank on the two witches before he strolled out of the store with a brand new coat for you; whistling as if he hadn’t just totally caused the two females to fall flat on their faces as their shoelaces had become mysteriously tied together sometime between ringing up the new winter item and handing the large bag to your boyfriend.

“That’s not what God meant by using your powers to right wrongs, Kookie. You know He’s watching, right?”

You pouted cutely as your boyfriend simply winked at you and replied casually, gently swinging the bag that contained your new winter fur coat,

“I’m sure He’ll let this one slide, babe. Think of it as karma. No worries. Now---Let’s go to the diner and have some lunch. I’m starving and you need to keep eating so that you stay glowing and beautiful.”

Meanwhile, just across the street from the diner watching the two lovebirds taking a seat at a booth perched against the window, stood two young men wearing trench coats along with hats to cover their faces. One wore a gorgeous white coat while the other wore a pitch black one.

“Told you he’d prank them. You owe me a drink, Joon.”

Joon. Kim Namjoon. Also known as God Himself. The tanned male smiled in amusement as he watched the young couple happily chatting in the diner. You would occasionally giggle over something the young ex demon would say; hand covering your lips in an attempt to stay decent and respectful to others trying to enjoy their meal in peace.

“Fair and square, Tae. But I still have faith the boy will keep his end of the deal. He’s not all bad.”

Tae. Kim Taehyung. Also known as Hades himself. The blonde male sported a boxy smile as he too watched the scene from across the street. Taehyung had taught Jungkook everything he knew about being a demon. However, ever since you had stepped into the picture, Jungkook’s performance was more than lacking. With a soft bark of laughter, the evil male said coolly,

“Eh. You can have him. He was turning sloppy anyway. Hasn’t handed me a soul in months.”

On the other side of the street, you sat there staring out the window with a clear view of the two males leaning against a wall opposite the diner. Your smile was warm and loving as you instantly recognized God Himself. Hoping that He could see you, you couldn’t help but say out loud in your head,

‘Thank you.’

Life was rough sometimes.

But with a little faith......

Things could always turn around for the better.

[prorevenge]

My Gaslighting Manager told me I did NOT have a degree

I've been lurking here for a while and thought I'd share.

This will probably be a long one so my TL; DR: My gaslighting manager told my I didn't have a degree, was a terrible programmer and that HE could write a script I was assigned better and more efficiently so I quit the day he went on an international month and a half long vacation so he'd have to do it himself from paradise.

So some background, I'm an African American woman who's been working as a programmer for about a good 4 - 5 years now. This situation happened in my first job out of college about 5 years ago and I was employed there for six months. I got a degree in Computer Science and I had tried to work at a larger company but decided to work somewhere smaller and then work my way up to a big company.

I stumbled upon a job for a programmer at......let's call them Gaslight Business Solutions (GBS), and decided to apply. At the time I was living in the Bay Area and the job was in SoCal so after successful phone interviews I flew down for an in person interview. The interview went fine with the CEO and he mentioned that as a small company (8 people at the time) I'd have to wear multiple hats and at the time I was okay with that. The CEO then proceeds to tell me that I'd spend maybe about 25% of my time being a support rep for a software, let's call it TerribleSuite (TS) (a CRM and ERP software), and the other 75% of my time programming for it. Once again I was fine with that and so the CEO offered me employment and I accepted. He did warn me that I'd start off making something pretty low but my pay would become exponentially better after three months.

So a few days later I receive an email about the terms of my employment, my initial pay for three months was going to be 12.00 an hour and my overtime rate was 18.00 an hour. I was pissed, programmers make significantly more than that! But I justified it that they were a small company, and my pay was going to be exponentially better three months from my start date so I could hold off. I also noticed that my title wasn't "Programmer" but "Software Analyst" which I thought was strange but once again wrote it off.

​

On my very first day, THE VERY FIRST DAY AFTER AN HOUR OF BEING THERE, several employees asked me "Do you still like it here?" and "You're not going to quit right?" I thought it was strange but I explained that I liked working there and asked why they were asking that. They explained that another African American (I'm not sure why that was important to explain to me) programmer had quit on them after only a couple of days of working there so they just wanted to make sure I was happy. I assured them that I was happy and had no plans of leaving.

These questions proceeded for the next six weeks, every. single. day. MULTIPLE times a day. I thought it was strange behavior but at the time believed that it was because of what happened with the other employee so I didn't think much of it. The next red flag was when I had to go to a customer and my coworker told me within five minutes of driving to the customer he told me "I needed to get my experience and get out." I was flabbergasted, I asked him about it and he explained that I had better opportunities and I shouldn't waste my time at GBS. I was shaken by his words and I told him a bland okay.

​

For pretty much 90% of my time at GBS I spent most of my time was spent learning TerribleSuite and being a support rep, I did pretty much ZERO programming. I was pretty annoyed, I was promised I'd be doing programming and I began to lightly voice my displeasure about a month in, since that's what they wanted a programmer. My manager, "Jav", decided he'd "test" my programming skills so he gave me a script to rewrite. I was just to rewrite the code and not look into the different functions I could use or to research the functions that were used. As my first programming assignment I was on it and I was excited to finally be writing some code, even if it was just a rewrite. I rewrote the 200 lines of code down to under a hundred, sectioning off repeated code into separate functions so it made the code more legible.

​

I returned it to my manager within under a day and he called me into a code review. He proceeded to scold me about how I didn't really enhance the code and that I didn't really understand the methods being used. I told him that he told me not to and he just looked at me strangely but didn't say anything. Jav then told me that he could have written it better but he told me I did a good job. I took at a small win but I felt a little strange.

​

Now Jav knows how to program, he was self taught but made a LOT of mistakes. Some of them were very blatant and others were just subtle rushing mistakes. He'd sometimes forget a closing bracket or he'd forget to null check variables. Just mistakes every where, but typically the code would function, but it was pretty much always volatile.

So after that point my manager proceeded to make my life a living hell. He'd find any moment to critique my work. On multiple occasions he'd tell me I'd do something wrong and after I had apologized then tell me I had actually done it right. I was confused and I asked my fellow coworkers and they laughed it off as a quirk of Jav. He would assign me scripts and when I had questions he'd say he was too busy and schedule time to talk about it AFTER the script's due date. I'd see him goofing off in the conference room and if I'd ask him to help me he'd tell me he was going to be in call in a few minutes and was just letting off steam. I'd leave come back after about 10 - 20 minutes, and when I'd walk by the conference room he'd still be goofing off, or listening to music. If I did catch him at a time where he wasn't busy he'd dramatically sigh and reluctantly "help" out. His help sessions would go like this:

Me: Hi I need to access this sub object in TS but the help doc doesn't say what the api name is. Jav: You need to use a for loop to go through the object and then use a nested for to access the sub object.

Me: Yes, I'm aware of that but I don't have the name of the sub object's api name. Jav: You need to use a nested for. Me: Yes, I...

[He'd respond with one of the following] Jav: Well then you know what you're doing, I have a call/I'm busy so go upstairs and finish the script. Jav: You're just confused, go upstairs and think about it more. Jav: You don't understand the business process, go back upstairs and ask [coworker] about the business process.

​

For those of you non-programmers out there I'm basically asking for a key to access a room that's in another room and Jav is just confirming that the key exists but he's not telling me where the key is so I can access that room.

I always left these meetings extremely frustrated because he'd always tell me extremely basic computer science knowledge instead of what I really wanted to know. Jav also loved to spend time trying to tell me the "proper" ways to program. The longer I was there the more convinced he was that I actually faked my degree.

​

For those of you who don't know for loops are used to do an operation multiple times. Nested for loops with do multiple operations multiple times depending upon the number of nested loops. I write my nested loops like this, like a lot of programmers.

int n = 5; int m = 10; for(int i = 0; i < n; i++) { for(int j = 0; j < m; j++) { // Do something } }

He would BADGER me on this saying that it was the incorrect way of doing a nested for loop and that I was an idiot for doing my nested loops this way. If I tried to submit any scripts with the code above he'd throw a fit and told me to rewrite it the "proper" way. This is the way he wanted me to write nested loops.

int i = 0; int j = 0; int n = 5; int m = 10; for(i =0; i < n; i++) { for(j = 0; j < m; j++) { // Do something } j = 0; }

While this isn't incorrect, when n and/or m is large, like in the millions, resetting j to zero that second time after the inner loop wastes a computers time and it's unnecessary because the first "j = 0" will reset it to zero. I had tried to explain that to him, but he'd throw a fit insisting that ALL CS degree programs write nested loops his way AND that my way did NOT reset the inner loop counter. He say I was confused and I didn't know what I was talking about and that I learned how to do nested loops WRONG.

After this he really began to up his game on criticizing my programming skills, began to lightly suggest that I actually didn't have a computer science degree and made me his personal punching bag when his code broke.

​

On several occasions, scripts would break on the production accounts of GBS's customers mostly due to tri-yearly updates to TS. When that would occur he'd waste no time lambasting me about how I can't just go into accounts, change code and that I'd need to go back and "put the code back to the way it was". TS kept a history of when files were changed so I'd look it up and shockingly the last time the file was touched was before my hire date. I'd tell him this and he'd respond with the following: "I KNOW you touched the file. My code is PERFECT. You must have hacked into TS and changed the code!"

(First off WTF, if I had those skills I wouldn't be working at their tiny company and secondly ???? who thinks that?!)

​

I'd have to fix his code, test it in the sandbox account (if a customer had one) and then redeploy it to get the customer up and working again. After I fixed it, Jav would continue to reiterate that I hacked TS and that if I had been good and left things alone the script would have worked just fine. Needless to say I was pissed and I had to hold my tongue because I wanted to tell him how much of a moron he was.

Jav had once given me a script for a customer where given a particular day in the month it would renew a contract for the next year. If the day was in the first half of the month, the contract renewal would be for that month for the next year, it was in the last half of the month, the contract renewal would be for the next month for the next year. For example a March 3rd 2019 the contract renewal would be for March 3rd 2020 and for the second option March 20th 2019 the contract renewal would be for April 20th 2020.

​

So I wrote the script but forgot that for the last half of December I needed to add an additional year because if I didn't the contract would only be good for a month.

​

I didn't discover this issue until I was demoing it for the customer. It was going to be an easy fix, three lines of code max and the customer was very forgiving, they were just happy that the script was done and how easy it was going to make their lives. I apologized profusely to the customer about the mistake, but they assured me it was okay because they were just so happy about the script in general. They still had to go through a couple more stages with their bosses so they didn't mind that I needed to add in the quick change. Jav. Was. PISSED. He goes off on me on the call with the customer telling me that I needed to double check my code to make sure that it was working properly and that I always present customers with working code instead of broken code that clearly doesn't work. (If I remember correctly I had demoed it for Jav and another coworker and Jav was very pleased with it, albeit him saying he could do it better). The customer was awkwardly silent on the call as Jav spent a good five minutes berating me and my work. He then addresses the customer with multiple apologies before we hang up the call. I get a call to come downstairs to talk to Jav and when I get down there he continues his tirade and ends the discussion with, "You're NOT a programmer and I don't think you have a degree in computer science and, to be honest, I'm not even sure why we even hired you."

I was furious and on that day I started to seriously look for a new job (I had been casually looking since around the four month mark). I went back upstairs and started a journal of everything he had ever said to me. I also began to have a little "fun", I'd ask "why?" like a toddler when he assigned me new scripts just to see his eyes get as large as saucer and see the little hamster wheel in his head race when he couldn't come up with an answer.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when Jav asked me to write a Julian Date converter for a customer. The customer needed unique numbers every time they created a new item order, so they needed it to be a Julian Date rather than a Gregorian Date. So I researched different algorithms wrote the code and with two other coworkers showed Jav the script after a few days. Like normal Jav was pissed. He looks at me and says I'm confused because I CLEARLY don't know what a Julian Date was. I blinked a little confused, and waited for him to continue. Jav tells me that he wants just month, day, year and that was it. He looks at my other two coworkers and expresses disappointment that they would leave me to this task given my current skills and that they needed to look over and oversee all of my work or do it themselves because they couldn't trust me with the work. (They had some programming knowledge but it wasn't very extensive. They actually passed along all their script writing to me). He orders us to go back upstairs and for me to rewrite the code to use a "proper" Julian Date.

​

My coworkers and I go back upstairs and a little angered I proclaim that Jav clearly doesn't know we are Gregorian calendar. My coworkers agree and said they were sorry that I had to rewrite the code. Suddenly Jav calls one of my coworkers and asks my coworker to put him on speaker so the whole office could hear (remember we have like 8 coworkers). She does as she's told and Jav proceeds to say that I'm a confused idiot who has no idea what she's doing and that I can't be left unsupervised because I go off and do what I want to do instead of the writing code that I should be writing. Jav says that he's a much better programmer and that his code is faster and more efficient than mine and that if he wasn't so busy he'd be writing all the scripts. He tells my coworkers that they need to keep a close eye on me and hangs up the phone. The office is awkwardly quiet and I'm so upset that I'm seeing red. I was so upset that if people asked me questions in person I'd IM them because I was going to explode at any minute. I immediately stopped working on the Julian Date script switching over to another script that was due much later.

​

I confided in a coworker who missed out on what happened above, and I told her that I was going to quit that Friday. She tells me to wait a few weeks because Jav always takes a month and a half long vacation. I thought that this was gold. In the weeks up to his vacation he kept parading around about how happy he was about not having to work on his vacation and that he was NOT taking a computer with him because he wasn't going to do anything but relax. He told me he was worried about the Julian Date script and that he was hoping it would be done soon because he didn't want to work on it during his vacation. On the day his vacation starts I go to the CEO and hand in my resignation letter saying that today was my very last day. The CEO is stunned and says "You don't want to give us two weeks" and I reply "No, I'm unhappy here". The CEO is taken aback and asks why, I pull out my journal and began to detail all the things that Jav has done. The CEO is dumbfounded and doesn't believe me since he and Jav had been working together and no one had ever said anything like this about Jav. I didn't really care because I wasn't going to be working there anymore. The CEO calls in my coworkers and announces that I have quit and the coworkers are also STUNNED. I go back to my desk which I had already packed up and put all my personal items in my car before everyone had arrived, and open up the Julian Date Script and write in the comments at the top of the file: "Hi Jav just to let you know, we're currently in the Gregorian Calendar and not the Julian Calendar. I'm so sorry that you're confused and don't understand the business process of this script. I hope you have fun on your vacation!"

I couldn't find a good place to add this end but around fifth month I learned that GBS had hired several people and all of them subsequently quit because of Jav's behavior and that the CEO had been told on multiple occasions that the reason why the person had quit was because of Jav I also learned that someone had went online and wrote negative reviews about Jav on any review site they could find. I tried to find those reviews but unfortunately they have been taking down. I'm upset that the CEO lied to my face stating that no one had ever told him about Jav's behavior but hey I'm not longer working there so I don't really care anymore.

​

I know that was incredible nasty and it's definitely a low point in my professional career but I don't regret it one bit. My only regret is not deleting all the code in the file so he had to start from scratch.

Sorry for the incredibly long post but I just thought I needed to tell the whole story. Hope you enjoyed it.

(source) story by (/u/CurlyCoderGirl)

[sitinthelight]

I have a few people that I need to message back...I’ve done a lot of self isolating since moving back to Wilson. It’s been an adventure, these past 2 months.

I’ve also started physical journaling so that’s kind of quenched my need to be on tumblr. I bought a bunch of colorful pens so getting to switch between colors mid sentence has been a joy.

A month ago, I was so fucking stressed. Terrified. No idea what was happening in my life. I started a job at Target because they were the only ones who responded quick enough (cause I have bills to pay) and that was...an ordeal. Like, I appreciate their promptness and excitement to hire me but like, my mental health took such a hit working there. I have never hated working anywhere as much as I hated it there. I can’t put into words how miserable I was working at Target. Like, the work wasn’t even that hard, it was just tedious. So much effort put into something that was destroyed in seconds and the stress level was so fucking high. And they expected so much from me?! The visual merchandiser put in her notice and immediately came to me and was like, so I think you have what it takes to take my position. Let me know if you want me to train you. At that point, I was already preparing to put in my notice as well but hadn’t told anyone yet. But the only thing I could think about was the fact that I was the only person she came to and suggested the position to when there were employees who had been there literally for 15 years and knew way more than I did. All because I had a degree. All because I worked at Macy’s and H&M and apparently in Wilson, that means a lot. Wilson is this whole different environment, omg. 

Target was a wreck. Like, so many of my coworkers were cool as hell but so many things bugged me and I just didn’t know if I could handle it for much longer.

BUT BLESSINGS HAPPEN. BB&T HIRED MY ASS. I quit Target and while I feel bad for ditching that ship after only a month of employment, it is so worth it.

I’ve been at BB&T for only 2 days but it is leagues better. So fucking amazing.

I’m on a salary! LIKE A LEGIT SALARY?!?! I already get my first pay check on the 31st and it’s only for 4 days but it’s more than I made at Target and Macy’s in a week?!?! I want to cry. I absolutely am just in shock. 

It’s like 8 weeks of training. 5 weeks of classroom training and 3 weeks on the floor heavily supervised. Everyone who works here seem to love it? People grow quickly here. We get our own cubicles. For the first time in my life, I have a job where I can sit my ass down. I can do overtime if I want to make extra cash. I have so many benefits?!?! I CAN BUY MORE VACATION DAYS? LIKE WTF. I HAVE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH WITCHCRAFT. I CAN BUY AN EXTRA WEEK OF VACATION. They gave me 2 vacation days right off the bat for the rest of this year. I have really good insurance? Like, it’s insanely good so I can take my ass to therapy and maybe get medicated. I also have life insurance now?!

I have a real legitimate job that makes me feel good and this is something I’ve never experienced before. I am never going back to retail. Fuck retail. I can also keep my nose piercing?!? Which has been a whole ordeal because no one told me I could keep it and so much happened in one day to my poor nose.

So yesterday (Monday) was the first day of my new job. I used a retainer for my interview because it’s a bank? I never knew a bank that let you have facial piercings so I played it safe and even wore a cute as hell pink blazer. 

So I figured I’d wear a retainer again until I could ask more questions on the dress code but I lost the original one I got so I went back to a really cool tattoo place downtown to buy a new one and they gave me a bone with a little ball at the end and omg. I couldn’t get it in my nose. I tried and I tried and I tried but it just wouldn’t go through because my hole is tiny and that ball at the end, was not. So I gave up and just accepted the fact that my 2 and a half year old piercing was probably going to close while I was at work. AND IT DID. THAT FUCKER CLOSED UP ON THE INSIDE LIKE NO ONE’S BUSINESS. I had just bought a ring too and was loving my new ring. 

So I took my dumbass back to that tattoo shop and the guys there are amazing and fucking saints. They literally dropped what they were doing to save my nose. They were amazed that my hole closed so quickly for how old it was, but alas, after much poking around, they couldn’t get my ring in through either. So I had to get it tapered (basically repierced) and my god, it bleed more than it did the first time. It is still fucking bleeding. I’m back to a stud :( I miss my ring. But the guy said I could come back next week with it and he’ll see if I can get it safely switched out. But now I have to go through the whole healing process again with my stupid fucking nose for almost no reason because I can have a piercing at my new job all along. What a fucking day. I went to Walmart to run some errands while blood was still dripping out of my nose but you know, I’ve shopped at Walmart looking way worse. 

BUT I MADE A FRIEND AT WORK????

She and her aunt sat right next to me and we immediately started to vibe. Like, joking the entire time. We both collect cameras. We both like Buffy. We have the same sense of humor. We both like anime and so many other things. We both just got out of 5 year relationships. And we are both desperate for human companionship. It’s a match made in heaven. Coincidentally, we also happen to be in the same team and shift so we’ll get to stay together after training. She moved from Texas and like her whole story is sad and I just want to show her the pathetic world of Wilson. She asked me if there were any good coffee shops in town. Like...what coffee shops? There is one downtown that’s always fucking closed cause their hours are weird and then there is starbucks. That’s basically it. Like, I’m in withdrawal from so many things living in Wilson. Anyway, I’m looking for a scrunchie to give to her tomorrow. I have the power of distributing scrunchies out to those who are unaware of their delights. My collection is massive and always growing because I am never going back to regular elastics. 

Also...I was single for a minute. Literally a minute. My last few months have been the weirdest fucking rollercoaster and things are still kind of dodgy but I’m in a relationship again. However, it’s on the down low.

But I’m happy? For the first time in sooooooo long, I’m happy. I don’t know how long that will last for because SAD is about to hit me like a bitch as soon as it gets cold but for right now, I feel safe and okay in so many areas of my life. I’m actually forming relationships with coworkers? Like legit talking to people and forming bonds?!? The insanity. I have a secure job that pays so fucking well. A four day paycheck put me in shock. It made me realize I’ve been undervalued my entire retail career. Plus, if I stay with BB&T for 6 months, they’ll pay for school if I can relate it to banking and since the company is going through a billion changes and moving it’s headquarters to Charlotte, things may be lining up for me. I may find a way to transfer to another position in that direction, keep my awesome benefits, and not be in debt from school! I could cry!

I also adore my new relationship. Like, it’s not perfect and still a lot needs to develop before I can feel anywhere close to the same comfort I had in my last one, but that stuff takes time and we’re both committed to taking that time at our own pace. The distance does suck but it turns out, I really like driving. 

Having my license is so freeing. I just can’t wait to get my car working and when I get my first full paycheck, I can do just that!

[haatake]

Undenied  -  Hakyona OneShot

Timeline: Modern Time AU Rating: M, for rooftop fun Also in: AO3 fresh off the oven(but not really)

A/N: SOOO, wow, it’s been forever! Is this fandom still out here?  don’t really know, but YES, i used to write a happy amount of Hakyona lovelifes, but then life happened and also i never finish my stories, i get frustrated and whatever. Ths one i had cooking for a looooooooooooooooooooooooooong time, it was my dear friend @lichthime​ (Who I visited in Amstedam last year!!!!) convinced me that this was ready to be posted and that people here would appreciate it since there’s not much fic going around lately. So without further ado, some HakYona smut because why not

Undenied

“Now that I've found you And seen behind those eyes How can I

Carry on?”

The smell of his skin makes her almost dizzy, instantly lost. He is serious but every once in a while he can’t contain a low grunt when she kisses and licks his neck and his face is buried in her bright red locks. His flesh feels like heaven against her, eager and strong, and rough to the perfect degree, gosh she missed this so much. He straightens up, fixes up a lock of his hair that was rebelling and stares at her. Her legs wide open and surrounding his body, her flowery black dress rolled up to her hips and the sleeves no longer covering up her young and round breasts; and her hair, messy and out of control just as his. His gaze takes it all in, and in this bench, on the rooftop of a fancy club, Yona feels suddenly perfect.

“I love this sight” He says with a grin as he catches his breath, and she grins too, because his bare chest is a sight she’s also grateful for, gosh he’s so hot. He takes one of her legs and crosses it to the other side so it lays on top of the other one and then leans for a kiss as he starts pounding again. Perfect. He’s perfect, she thinks as her body starts instantly reacting to the movement.

It had been instant. She walked in and there he was, all lights were on him as the bartender juggled with indistinct bottles of liquor. He was focused and didn’t miss a single beat, it was probably the coolest thing she had ever seen in years. Suddenly the other bartenders joined, two women and another man and together they did probably the most amazing juggling show she had ever seen. Where the hell had she been brought to? She knew Ayura was gonna go all out on her bachelorette’s party, but the party had not even started and she was already over the moon.

She had to have him.

Him and only him.

He moved like lightning, and made it look so damn easy that she wondered if he could throw her like that into the air. Something tingled insider of her chest, and she knew she had a target.

“Let’s get drunk!” She yelled to her friends, and then walked straight towards the bar.

She clutches her hands around the metallic bar and looks down the 4 floors, a shiver excites her skin as his lips travel the road of her spine. He’s a teaser, and she’s feeling everything so much and so intensely that she’s probably cum twice already, and as she stares into the dark empty street, she feels ready for more. His hand slides to her center and he circles his fingers there as he roams her body with his other hand, she moans and smiles when he fills her once more, pounding hard against her in search for his own release this time. And she wants him to get there, she wants to hear him and feel him dissolve for her, he’s made her sing before, and now it’s her turn to make him. She straightens her body and presses her back against him, he grunts in her ear when she guides his hand to her bare chest as she inches her lips to his ear.

“Attack me” She dares, and he instantly holds her harder and presses her against the railing, her body instantly reacting to the cold metal in her stomach. But she loves it, how he gives her the perfect kiss as he’s just about to come, thrusting his hips adamantly into her, his tongue softly entering her mouth and meeting hers as he unconsciously presses her neck deepening the kiss. It feels like it’s all going in a slow daze, sensuous and almost cinematographic, like a hot dream she’s about to wake from. Only it isn’t.

He presses his forehead to her shoulder when he comes, holding one of her breasts firmly in one hand, he moans and his back tenses as he pushes in one last time.

For once, she didn’t mind how her hair stood out in even in a crowded space, because the bartender’s dark eyes would find her once in a while as she danced, and for the space of the three seconds his gaze held hers, Yona would dance just for him.

She had to have him, she had never felt like this before.

“The night of letting go” She thinks in her drunken stupor, feeling how the music swallows her whole and the alcohol blurs her mind. “I’m moving on” She said to herself repeatedly, but today she felt it. He threw a vodka bottle over his head and poured it in an almost sexual way, he looked so hot. She had to have him.

His eyes laid on hers again, inviting, and this time Yona didn’t back up. With a strong stride, she walked towards him, unsure of what to say or do, completely out of touch with her flirtatious side, but always willing to improvise. He smiled as she approached the bar, taking his time to finish preparing another person’s drink before turning his attention to her.

“Hey” He greeted

“Hi” She answered, pretending to be calm as she sat on the stool.

“What can I get you?” She could see he wanted to know what she was gonna order, he had that look in his eyes; the eyes of a hunter. She could play too.

“Mmmh” She touched her chin playfully “I want…” Yona smiled whimsically “...your favourite drink”

“ My favourite drink?” He asked, puzzled “That’s a new one”

Dink! Dink! Dink!

“Yes… I want that” But I don’t mean the drink

“You sure?”

“Yeah”

“ Fuck ” He grunted as he pulled himself out of her

“Feel good?” She asks turning around, he only smiles matter-of-factly as he removes the condom

“Did you finish?”

“Oh, I’m more than okay” She answers, reaching for his face. He shortens the distance until he has her against the railing again, a cold tingly shiver rolls down her spine and she loses her breath. He grabs her jaw decidedly, shortening the distance even more.

“Did you?” Hi asks firmy, his fingers roaming her back, forcing her to close her eyes and give in just a little more.

“No…”

He smiles.

She was jealous. Drunk and jealous. So far two girls had given him smudged digits on pieces of paper. She wanted to go back to the bar and steal his kiss, steal his time and his desire. She wanted him, but how can you compete with a club full of beautiful women? How can you call the attention of a man that must get hundreds of numbers from all kinds of strangers? They had had a moment there, he happened to caress her hand when handing her the drink, he winked when he said “ Enjoy ”, he then moved onto the next costumer and she went back to her group, trying to hold her dignity intact.

Discouraged, she gets devoured by insecurity and quits. I can’t compete. I won’t compete. A bartender, lots of girls, he must a player, he must fuck them all, he must get laid everyday, make them shiver without making eye contact, dismiss them next morning. Just one more of those, I don’t wanna be.

But he looks at her, finds her in the crowd, no matter where she was he found her. Her . The paper is pressed in his fist strongly and tossed away right before her eyes. He raises one eyebrow defiantly and Yona, shaking internally, feels like her knees are gonna betray her before she can make her next move.

But they don’t, so she walks directly to him, drunk and certain, never ever more sure of anything. The music is too loud for her to say it, so she reaches for a napkin and a pen that’s next to the computer screen. It’s an impulse, she knows, but one of those you can’t help.

See you after closing?

His answer was a wink of his left eye that she swears, could have melt an iceberg or two.

Not even she could believe that she stayed. It was 3 and then 4 and she stayed. Her friends left, everyone left and there she was, sitting at the bar flirting with the bartender. Hak was his name, and even that she found gorgeous. She learned he was a student of some sort of mechanics and that he played bass guitar to relax. She learned he had a soft spot for gin and tonic, but was more of an old fashioned kind of guy. She leaned she wanted to fuck him until she saw the sun.

"I know a place I think you will like" He said, picking up keys from a drawer. She followed him up some stairs, a sober part of her wondering if this was actually a good idea.

When he opened the door she was sure it was. The rooftop was illuminated with the faint red neon sign of the bar and there was even some benches here and there. Could this night get more worderful?

Yes it could.

His lips embrace hers softly, yet deeply, as if they wanted to warm her body again, fuel the fire that’s inside of her. Making hot trails in her skin, he lowers to her neck and then to her chest, tasting and teasing her breasts as she struggles to find enough air in her lungs. He kneels and throws her leg over his shoulder, demanding a better angle to her core, and boy does he get it. Yona shivers and hardens, hey body reacting instantly, intensely, to the feeling of his tongue. She holds on to the metallic bar, pressing it hard in her hands as her back arches when the orgasm strikes her. She makes a deaf noise and reaches it probably too soon for her taste, but also too strong to regret. It’s like a strike of lightning going through her, she thinks, a whole blissful moment of nothing but pure pleasure. She had never felt anything like it before. This could become addictive.

“Stop, stop, stop…” She begs and he smiles, giving her a final kiss before standing up.

He kisses her and she loves the taste in his lips and the strong feeling of his back, his scent fills her. For a full moment she remembers when she first saw him, juggling those bottles of vodka effortlessly, almost unconsciously, like he was bored of this act already, like he could do it with a blindfold. He probably could. The thought makes her want to drag her nails across his back, if only to claim him.

He breaks the kiss and lays his head on her shoulder, and suddenly she’s aware of how tired she is. They sigh in unison and then laugh, becoming aware of what had just happened.

“That was…” She manages, containing a giggle.

“Mindblowing? Best rooftop sex of your life?” He jokes, as he walks back to the bench to fetch his clothes. The sigh of his behind makes her bite her lips.

“Uh, it’s in my top 5 definitely” But she’s lying. It was most definitely the best sex of her life, let alone in a rooftop

“Well, it was my pleasure, Princess” He winks at her as he gets into his boxer briefs.

She wants to tell him something though, something true and real, that this is not who she is, that she never does things like this, that she would love to do it again. But she remains silent, as if saying the words would make all this fantasy disappear; this bold persona that she created wouldn’t ruin a moment like that. She puts on her clothes in silence, trying to find the perfect thing to say that will make him want to see her again, that will make him want to date her: but what is it?

“So…” She says

“Listen…” His words crash into hers

“Oh? Sorry…” She smiles “Tell me”

“Yes, uh…” She sees he is nervous and it’s so endearing that he is after what they just did, Yona can’t help but smile to herself

“What?”

“Look, I don’t do this often and I think we started the other way around…” He hesitates, walking towards her “But I would like to…” He inches closer to her, inching his lips to her ear “I would very much like to see you again”

She can’t help but laugh out loud at the innocent tones “And do it indoors for a change?” She winks, he smiles shrugging

“Well, yeah, yes. Maybe some dinner?”

“Mmmm! I’m a picky eater, though” She jokes as she slides back into her dress

“We can always skip dinner and go straight to the roof, you know”

“Oh my God, Hak!” She exclaims, playfully hitting him in the chest. They both explode into laughter and it feels to her like they have known eachother for a while; Comfortable and yet new. She had almost forgotten how it felt like.

“Look” He says after struggling with getting dressed again, his finger pointing at something behind her. She turns around and there it is. Majestic. Bright, perfect and breathtaking. The first ray of sun of the morning. She did it.

“Wow” She sighs, filling her nostrils with the smell of a fresh new day and her mind with the pink and red image of the sunrise. “I love it” Yona smiles, turning to him. She’s surprised to see his phone out and pointing at her as he takes a sneaky picture. “Hey!” She jokes, blushing

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” He lowers the phone and seems to type something in it “I just found the perfect name for you on my phone”

“Really? What is it?” She walks closer to him as he shows her the screen. And there, next to her picture the name reads: Yona of the Dawn.

Muaks ;)

[katie-dub]

The Princess of White Chapel (7/12)

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

AO3 | Tumblr

Rated M for alcohol use, violence, minor character death, frank discussions of depression and grief.

This particular chapter is a tough one for Killian - be prepared for some emotional breakdowns and distressing flashbacks.

Sorry I’m posting later than usual guys, it’s been a week. Still, I’m excited to share this chapter - thank you to all of you who are reading, reblogging and all those other lovely things, they mean a lot.

The magnificent @princesse-swan made my header - and here’s her latest gorgeous picset.

The utterly perfect @distant-rose and @ultraluckycatnd made this work better with their beta skills.

Killian was dragged from sleep by his alarm. He groaned, wishing that he could just close his eyes and forget about the world.

It had been a long time since he'd joined in the drinking on a night out with his friends, and he was certainly feeling the after effects. He may not have overindulged, but he wasn't as young as he once was - and the alcohol was only part of the issue.

The emotional hangover however was crippling.

He felt like last night he'd taken a huge leap forward on the road to recovering from the devastating loss of his first love. Only to fall and stumble backwards, losing himself in his guilt and grief.

He hadn't realised what a burden on his soul his grief had been, unable to recognise the weight of it until he met Emma. After one night of feeling like he didn't have to shoulder his pain alone anymore he felt lighter, but knowing that reprieve was only temporary also made him feel centuries older than his true age.

And there was the kiss.

Bloody hell, that kiss.

It had been perfect, passionate, and utterly impossible.

First kisses didn't feel that good, it was nonsensical. But they kissed like they had been doing it for a lifetime - for several lifetimes in fact. And he was going to have to send her home to another realm where he could not follow. Talk about unfair.

And there was the guilt that followed. He had devoted himself to Milah long ago and when he loved, it was with his whole heart - his entire being. How could he find room in his heart for someone new?

But he didn't even have to try. It hadn't been a conscious choice to fall for Emma, but somehow he was falling for her. He knew that Milah still owned a piece of his soul, had left an indelible impression on his heart, but it had somehow swelled to make room for another. He shouldn't feel bad for that, but he couldn't help himself.

He had far too many feelings for 8:15am.

Tea. He desperately needed tea, after a cup or five he might begin to start thinking more clearly. He could only hope that would happen.

It was probably for the best that he had to report to his new lab this morning and pick up the pieces of his tattered research. Throwing himself head first into a new challenge and letting it consume him utterly was his best coping mechanism, even if he now could see it for the unhealthy avoidance tactic that it was.

It wasn't a solution, merely a short term reprieve.

He finally sat up with an effort, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and pushing back the hair that was obscuring his vision. Blinking blearily, he glanced over to the chair that should have contained his clothes for the day. Except with all the drama of the previous night, he'd forgotten to get his clothes out of the room before Emma had gone to bed.

He was going to have to sneak into his own bedroom to get something to wear, without disturbing Emma from sleep and risking looking like a creep. Or what if she wasn't asleep, but just hiding from him?

Bloody hell.

His life was ridiculous.

He filled the kettle right to the top and flicked it on to boil. He busied himself with getting the pot and adding the tea bags, giving himself a few moments to find his courage. When he went so far as to wait until the kettle had actually boiled, he tried to tell himself it was just so he could get his tea brewing, but deep down he knew he was just being pathetic.

Instead of stalling any longer, he walked to the bedroom. He softly knocked on his door - just in case Emma happened to be awake - but on hearing no reply, he carefully opened the door and crept inside. He quickly found the clothes he wanted, hardly daring to breathe lest he disturb her and hurried to get back outside. As he turned to close the door behind him, he caught sight of her.

She was stunning.

She looked at peace in her sleep in a way he'd never seen while she was awake. A faint blush graced her cheeks, and her hair was a mess of waves around and over her face. She wasn't some Renaissance painting of frozen perfection. She was messier, but she was a true sleeping beauty all the same.

He only caught a glimpse of her before he turned away, feeling like he hadn't earned this intimacy. He didn't deserve her unguarded moments and probably never would. But seeing her like that? Oh how it made him wish he were a better man, someone who was worthy of a princess.

As he drank his tea and stumbled his way through his morning routine, he tried to put her out of mind. But his fantasies of her hair tickling his own nose as he woke up, her soft sigh against his cheek, would not leave him.

She still hadn't emerged by the time he had finished inhaling his slightly burnt toast and third cup of coffee. He breathed a sigh of relief as he scribbled a note - “gone to the lab, back by 7” - and pulled his door shut behind him.

He hadn’t fully processed everything that had happened last night - and he needed to concentrate on his work. Based on the way she had bolted from him after their kiss, he was fairly certain she wasn’t sure how to feel about it either. He suspected that she would prefer to act as if nothing had happened instead of having a heartfelt conversation, but doing either would be emotionally taxing and was more than he could handle right now.

After the fresh air that had breezed through the city the night before, the heat had returned with a vengeance. It was not yet 9am and already the atmosphere felt heavy. By the end of the day, Killian was sure the scent of melting tarmac would fill the air. A storm must be brewing.

As he walked through the streets, torn between rushing to get out of the suffocating air and sauntering at a leisurely pace in deference to his hungover state, he couldn’t help but wonder at how quiet the area was. There were still people around, but the place should be packed, the pavements actually overflowing with commuters at times. He never thought he’d miss having to fight his way down a street, but right now, everything felt somehow lifeless in comparison to its usual noisy, bustling state.

He reached the base of the Gherkin. He’d never had cause to go in before - uninterested in the shops and trendy bars it contained. It was an impressive sight, bearing down on him with its unusual triangular archways with their sharp points that reminded him of a crocodile’s teeth. How fitting for Gold, he thought, suppressing a shudder.

He took a deep breath that brought him no refreshment as it filled his lungs with the humid air, passed through the archway, and entered the building.

The sudden cool was a blessed relief. Before him were two sleek black desks with smiling receptionists behind them and turnstiles in between. There were textured white walls behind them. All was sparkling clean and futuristic. He looked around, unclear of what he was meant to do next.

“Dr Jones!” a man in a white coat ran towards him. He panted slightly as he arrived at Killian’s side, despite only having crossed a few yards. Killian furrowed his brow as he looked the man up and down - he looked out of place here, his thick, fuzzy beard and short, stout physique contrasting unflatteringly against the sleek, glistening surroundings. More concerning to Killian, though, was the way his eyes darted around the lobby as though he were on edge.

“Dr Smee,” he said, extending a hand for Killian to shake. “Astrophysicist and lecturer in quantum mechanics at Imperial College and your partner for as long as you need me.”

Killian took the man’s hand. It was clammy with sweat despite the pleasant temperature inside. He’s here under duress, he thought cooly. Good, he’s not entirely Gold’s man. I can work with that.

His assessment was perhaps callous, but he was going to have to trust his team, and he needed all the leverage he could get.

Smee ushered him into the lift. Even though it quickly filled up with other people, it took just minutes for them to reach the 32nd floor.

“Fastest lift in Europe,” Smee said with a smile when Killian's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the speed of their ascent.

“Impressive,” he begrudgingly admitted.

Smee led the way to glass double doors. “Welcome to your new lab, Dr Jones!” he said grandly as he used his swipe card to throw open the door.

“Bloody hell…” Killian breathed. So much for not being impressed.

Immediately in front of him were floor to ceiling windows. First a neat row of standard large rectangles, then a gap that housed impressive white triangular supports before you got to the trademark diamond windows that gave The Gherkin its distinctive shape.

And the view through the glass? Nothing short of breathtaking. A stunning panoramic vista showing what felt like all of London sprawling out from it, with its huge office blocks, grand architectural landmarks and mammoth cranes all reduced to toys by the great height.

“We have the whole 32nd floor, Dr Jones,” said Smee, noting his wide-eyed gaze, “that means 360 degree views of London, you can see Tower Bridge, St Paul’s, the Shard, the Eye, everything from here.”

He felt like he could spend forever circling the windows, gazing at the city below. He wondered briefly what Lily had looked like on Tower Bridge from up here.

“Now if you look over here -” Smee was pointing to his left - “we’ve got multiple computer banks.” They began to walk around the circular space. Large curved screens were mounted on the clean white walls, he could see everything from blueprints and coding to the latest news and twitter feeds. In front of the walls there were sleek slate grey desks with state of the art computers placed on them, alongside phones and laptops. Already there were teams of people tapping away on keys.

“How long until we have everything back from my old computers? Killian asked.

“It’s already done.”

“You restored the data already?” Killian arched his brow, framing his respect as scepticism. He didn't want them to see how impressed he truly was. Better to let them think he was doubting their ability than to show Gold that he'd won this round.

“Gold expects excellence in all things,” was the honest reply. “Of course, with Gold there were no second chances. You get the job done or call a priest to hear your final confession and read you your last rites.”

Killian nodded to show he understood, but gave no encouragement and expressed no sympathy. That was simply the price you paid for working with a crocodile. Sooner or later, he'd eat you alive.

They continued past more computers until the space opened out further. There was one last desk set apart from the wall, all the the computers on it faced towards a grand space where construction was in progress on a new machine. A team of technicians in white coats were assembling the parts efficiently, referring to plans on impressively large laptops on portable workstations.

“Well, I have to say, this is all much better than I hoped,” Killian admitted begrudgingly. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

“I’m not sure I quite follow -” Smee began.

“For a start, anyone who leaves more than five personal items in the lab is banned, make sure that you enforce that rule.”

“I don’t see the need...”

“Am I in charge here?”

“Yes, Dr Jones, it is your research project after all.”

“I’ve seen the walk-in petri dishes that some scientists work in, anyone who treats my lab like they would their childhood bedroom has no place on my team.”

“Oh I see. It must be that I’m used to a slightly higher calibre of scientists. Ones who aren’t living some kind of clichéd man-child scientist life like bit parts in The Big Bang Theory. Imperial is ninth in the world for physical sciences after all - fourth in Europe - but I don’t think King’s College gets a look in?”

Killian scowled at Smee. He shouldn’t let this jab at his university’s reputation bother him, it was nothing more than typical local rivalry at play, but it was a bitter reminder of everything that Gold had cost him in life. It hadn’t been enough to take love and limb from him, he’d come close to destroying his career, leaving him scrabbling for funding and struggling to get published. But King’s was a decent university, he was proud to have fought back and won his role there despite the constant setbacks. But if he were to say that? To reveal that their generous benefactor was in fact a constant thorn in his side, that would sound like nothing more than sour grapes.

“I find it’s not the size of your ranking, but what you do with it that matters.” Killian smirked at Smee.

“And what have you done with it Dr Jones? I tried looking you up, but found that your published works were rather thin on the ground. It’s hard to believe that you still have funding with such a poor record.”

This was a definite power play, and one that Killian didn’t appreciate at all. Not only had he inadvertently hit a sore spot, but also Killian didn’t like that he had been left in the dark on who he was to work with, while his partners were able to do their homework. While his initial impression that Smee was not entirely comfortable working for Gold may have been accurate, he was nevertheless a clever man and not to be trifled with

But Killian Jones had trained to deal with men that were far more fearsome than the portly Dr Smee. He advanced into the man’s personal space, looking down on the man with obvious disdain.

“Let me make one thing clear to you, Smee, was it?”

“Dr Sm-”

“Right. Smee, you're only here because I allow it. You may be useful to me and I don't want to deal with the inevitable headache I'd have if I kicked you out of my lab and you ran off to tell Gold on me like a good little lackey. But don't mistake this for kindness or weakness and don't take me for a fool. If I catch even the slightest sign that you are standing in my way, I will not hesitate to end you. Not your research, not your career. You, Smee. Have I made myself clear?”

Smee swallowed hard. “Cr - cr - crystal.”

“Very well then Smee, welcome to my team.” He clapped Smee on the back, just a touch too hard to be considered truly friendly and dropped his voice. “No offense, but I can’t have a rat in my lab. It’s most unsanitary, you understand.”

Smee nodded, looking terrified. Once upon a time, Killian might have felt sorry for the man, but he'd learned the hard way to never underestimate Gold and his cronies. Smee was Gold’s man, he couldn't be trusted.

***

Despite his suspicions and total dislike of relying on Gold’s support, Killian found that he had a productive day. The reason for his machine behaving in this way eluded them all, meaning they were still far off figuring out a way to reverse the effect. But at least progress was being made on rebuilding the machine.

He stepped out onto the street at the end of the day and instantly was reminded why he sometimes hated London in the summer. There was the smell of molten tarmac on the breeze and the air felt sticky with sweat. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing the tattoo that he usually kept hidden, and unfastened a few additional buttons on his shirt, exposing more of his chest than he usually would on a work day. But considering he could see at least one lobster red tourist who’d stripped out of their shirt entirely, he felt smart in comparison.

He toyed briefly with the idea of inviting Emma for a walk after dinner down by the river where the air would be cooler. He could take her to the Southbank side, get a drink in the nook by the Golden Hind, go people watching on the grass by the Tate Modern.

She’d probably appreciate escaping the flat for a few minutes at least. I should really get her a key, he thought, and possibly a phone. She shouldn’t have to stay cooped up indoors all day. He tried not to think too much about how much he cared for her comfort - or how he was acting as though her presence might be long term - or how much he hoped it was.

A cat darted in front of him, startling him from his thoughts. He might have paid it no further attention if the creature hadn’t unfurled a pair of wings lazily and took flight. He blinked in alarm. These strange occurrences were happening ever more frequently, and once again, the streets were far quieter than he’d ever known them to be before. Something was deeply wrong in town and he was daydreaming about playing house with a princess.

Still though, providing Emma with some creature comforts was something he could do immediately and with little effort on his part. Handling arsey dragons, vanishing fairies, and dwindling crowds was firmly in the territory of mistakes that he had made and had no idea how to fix.

That fact made him deeply uncomfortable.

He was always one to admit when he was wrong, meaning that Gold’s unwillingness to ever accept responsibility for Milah’s death and do his time disturbed him greatly. When he was wrong, he would do everything in his power to make amends. But this was beyond him. The only person he could make amends to on any level was Emma.

That made his mind up for him. He knew a little place not too far out of his way where he could get a set of keys and a cheap phone. (And, if he so desired, all manner of cheap tourist crap, his dry cleaning done and, he suspected, an eighth of pot. Not that he’d know for certain, having taken no interest in recreational drugs since his mission was set. Still, it was hard to ignore the distinctive smell that wafted out of the doorway when he passed and he highly doubted that the teenagers with glazed eyes flocked there for their range of designer perfumes of dubious origin.)

He marched towards the shop, feeling as though he were wading through treacle, determined to get what Emma needed. He wondered fleetingly if he could get away with undoing a few more buttons, but decided against it as that was just a little too close to wandering the streets topless and while he didn’t mind people seeing him in that state, his British reserve kept him clothed.

Bloody hell, Emma will need more clothes too. Ruby only brought her enough to last until the weekend. We can hardly have her walking around the city dressed in only my shirt.

The image of Emma’s long legs filled his mind - and his thoughts quickly turned to the previous night of feeling her straddling him. He wondered about what might have happened if he’d kissed her again. Would she have let him? How different would his morning have been if he’d woken up in bed with her after a night of exploring each other? Would he have slipped out of bed leaving her naked and sighing for him in her sleep?

And despite himself, those thoughts stayed with him throughout his entire walk to the shop. It was only the scent of weed wafting on the breeze as he drew closer that shook him out of his uncomfortably domestic daydreams.

He wondered what it said about him that he’d been fantasising about having a life with her, and not of just having her. (Although he did think about that too.) He was on the verge of playing at living with a girl he knew he’d have to give up all too soon, after his previously doomed relationship with a married woman.

He sure knew how to pick them.

A short while later he let himself back into his flat, unsure of how exactly to bring up the set of keys that were burning a hole in his pocket and the phone that was sitting in his leather satchel.

“Swan?” he called out as he walked towards the living room, wanting to give her warning that he was home. “I’ve got s -” He stopped dead at the sight before him.

Emma was lounging on the couch with her knees up to create an easel for the drawing pad that rested against them. She was sketching and from what little he could see over her shoulder it was a simple, beautiful swan.

The image of another beautiful woman, who he’d found in that exact pose so many times before, filled his mind. His eyes misted over as he realised how faded those memories were. He knew that he’d find Milah like this and he’d creep over to see what she was drawing. She would tilt her head back to invite a kiss, but the picture was insubstantial as smoke.

Emma jumped and accidentally drew a line straight across the swan’s throat. He hadn’t even realised that he had drawn closer to her until he was a little too close for comfort.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, stepping back to a safe distance and cursing his own stupidity. This was Princess Emma Swan, golden haired beauty and badass from another realm. Not his lost love returned to life.

She scrambled to shove the art supplies on the table, looking guilty. “Oh, um, I - I hope you don’t mind - I - I wanted something to do other than watch the magic mirror -” she shook her head, eyes squeezed shut as though trying to shake the wrong wording out of her brain. “I mean, TV. These were in a drawer...”

Killian’s eyes widened as he watched her babble. Did he look angry? Had he said something harsh that he hadn’t meant to? He had thought that princesses were meant to be spoiled, but this one seemed determined to apologise for her very existence in a way he found frankly alarming.

“Swan -” he touched her arm gently, but she jumped nevertheless “- it’s okay, love. It’s about time someone used those again.”

“You don’t draw anymore?”

“They were Milah’s.”

She looked down to the tattoo on his forearm - a heart with a dagger through it with a ribbon wrapped around it bearing the name “Milah” - then to the ring on the finger of his prosthetic. She looked even more guilty at these words. “Your wife?”

“Emma, Milah and I were never married.”

“But…” Emma frowned in confusion, her eyes darting down to his ring once more. He understood her hesitance at once.

“This -” he held up his prosthetic adorned with his ring “- is my engagement ring from Milah. She was murdered the night she asked me to marry her.”

“Oh, oh fuck, I'm so sorry, I hope I didn't upset you, calling her your wife when you didn't - you couldn't -” Emma faltered and shook herself. “That's awful. I'm sorry that you didn't get to marry her. I didn't mean to make it worse. In my realm, it is customary for the man to do the asking and the woman to wear the ring.”

Killian laughed. “It is here too, but my Milah was never one for doing things the traditional way.”

***

After champagne toasts and congratulations from many strangers and waiters, and the manager absolutely insisting that their drinks were on the house, they finally floated home on a cloud of joy.

They were so wrapped up in each other that neither noticed the figures following them home. If they had, perhaps they wouldn’t have taken the shortcut through the dimly lit park that Killian had originally intended to propose in precisely because it was out of sight of inquiring eyes.

(But then again, they were hoping that perhaps they could start their private celebrations early and they didn’t want an audience. They were just so high on each other and they felt so good.)

They were pressed up against a tree when they realised their mistake.

“Well, well, well, dearie. What do we have here?”

At the sound of Gold’s voice, Killian’s whole body stiffened. He pulled his lips away from Milah’s, expecting to see fear in her eyes. He was incredibly proud to see nothing but defiance and contempt. She had come such a long way from the frightened woman in desperate need of an escape whom he first met. If it weren’t entirely the wrong time for it, he might had even chuffed a little with pride at how he had helped her to escape this man - this crocodile - so that she could become the fierce, strong, and independent woman she truly was.

He turned slowly to face Gold, moving slightly to the side so that Milah could look at her ex, but placed firmly between them, his body still close to hers.

“Go away. Nobody wants you here,” Milah spat out.

“Come now dearie. What kind of husband would I be if I didn’t congratulate you on your engagement?” His manic grin dropped and a dark scowl crossed over it. “Oh wait, a normal one. Did you really think I’d let you -” Gold’s words stopped as his eyes fell on the ring sitting on Killian’s finger. He sneered at the sight and gestured to it dramatically. “What is that?” He looked back up at Killian’s face in disgust. “Are you wearing an engagement ring too, princess? Did your true love get down on one knee? Was it everything you dreamed of as a little girl?”

Gold stepped back and gestured to one of his henchman while pointing at Killian’s ring. “I can’t have people thinking my wife has already married someone else. Get rid of that.”

With that one dismissive command, Gold condemned Killian to a life as an amputee.

At the sight of the two huge lunks advancing on him, Killian felt nothing but terror for Milah. He turned to her ever so slightly and spoke in a low voice, “Milah, you have to run!” He pleaded with his eyes for her to listen to him, to just save herself.

“No. I’m not leaving without you!” He should have known his amazing, darling love wouldn’t abandon him to his fate.

He spun back around to face his would-be attackers, stepping fully between them and Milah.

“Do whatever you want to me. Just let her go.” He summoned up all the bravado he could muster, hoping he sounded at least vaguely intimidating. One of the henchmen sneered and shrugged almost lazily, pulled out a handgun, and shot Killian through the wrist.

He dropped to one knee, crying out at the intense pain.

He couldn’t feel his hand anymore.

He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at his surely useless limb. Instinctively, he grabbed his wrist tight to stem the bleeding. He clenched his jaw to try to hold back his screams.

He felt Milah drop down beside him. A fresh wave of sheer panic flooded through him.

“Milah, no! Please go, I can’t lose you.”

He heard a blood-curdling cackle from somewhere nearby that made him shudder.

“Oh, I’m not going to let her go, dearie. You two have made a mockery of me for far too long. I need to make it clear to the world what happens to people who defy me.”

Killian’s eyes flew open at Gold’s words. He found himself looking straight into his Milah’s eyes. She looked at him tenderly, her eyes shining with love. She smiled. “I love you.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth then he heard the bang of a gun. He jumped at the sound. His ears started to ring. Milah slumped against him, lifeless.

He looked up into Gold’s face, which broke out into a crocodile smile. “Congratulations, dearie!” the beast said with a flourish before disappearing into the night.

***

Emma looked shell shocked in the wake of his revelation. He could hardly blame her. Even though he was there, had seen it happen, he still often felt like it was all just a nightmare, one that he might wake from at any time.

“This man… Gold, the one who did - well, ordered, all this, he's rotting in jail now, right?”

Killian laughed bitterly. “You'd think so, wouldn't you? No. He's free. Living, breathing, and fucking up my life.”

Emma looked repulsed, her nose scrunching in distress and furrowing her brow. “Fucking up your life? He took your love and your hand, isn’t that enough?”

He shook his head and stared down at his prosthetic, muttering under his breath, “you underestimate how black his vile heart is.”

“What else could he possibly do?” she whispered, sounding as if she couldn’t bear to hear it.

“Anything he could to make my life miserable.” His tone was light hearted, as if his decade of mistreatment at Gold’s hands was nothing more than some grand farce. He looked back up at her with a poor attempt at a grin stretching his lips. Emma’s eyes met his and they were so full of concern and understanding that he couldn’t even make that half hearted attempt at pretending this was all ok. He sighed, and let his anguish of the past few days spill out of him. “I was going to save her.”

“What?”

“When we met, I told you that I had built a time machine…” He eyed her meaningfully and saw the moment that she understood, her eyes widening in alarm for the briefest moment before she caught herself and schooled her expression into something far more neutral.

“You - you were going to go back in time and stop her from dying?”

“I was going to kill the beast.” His voice was matter of fact, but a manic, bloodthirsty glee filled him at the thought and he knew that it must show on his face. “You know, he didn’t even have the guts to kill her himself? He always was a disgusting little coward, hiding behind his guards and his money and his powerful allies. I trained hard to take out those guards and then it would have just been me and him and with that dodgy leg of his, he never stood a chance.” His dreamy voice sounded strange even to him, he felt detached from everything he was saying. It was like waking up from a nightmare - as though he were finally seeing himself for what he’d become: a beast every bit as vile as the one he had hunted. He shuddered and the ripple of revulsion that spread through him at that revelation soon turned into a deep, wracking sob.

He hadn’t realised how completely his mission had kept him from feeling the pain of Milah’s passing until now. But now? He knew it was over. His pain was unleashed. There was no use denying it anymore or begging for a second chance. For years, he had been determined: he could fix it and he would. But now he knew that wasn’t the case.

He was broken.

And nothing could ever put him back together again.

He sobbed long and hard.

He gasped for breath and the gulps of air burned his throat as he forced them down.

His heart seemed to beat harder as though it was struggling against the inevitable, determined to prove that it could still work even as it shattered into a million shards of ice, brittle, fragile, and unfeeling.

He curled in on himself. He drew his knees to his chest and his arms wrapped around them. He dug his fingers into his upper arms in an attempt to anchor himself and not be carried away in a tide of depression.

Time stood still.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick.

Until.

He realised there were arms around him.

Gentle fingers running through his hair.

A soft shushing and murmured reassurances in his ear.

The warmth of a firm yet tender touch.

He was swaying in time with the comforting rocking of another.

Emma.

His breathing slowed, his heart rate returned to normal, the tears subsided.

He lifted his head and saw how close Emma’s face was to his. Her eyes were closed, lost in the need to soothe him, to make everything better for him. He gazed at her in unabashed awe. She had saved him from himself.  

She seemed to feel the force of his attention, her eyes opened and she looked at him. She met his eyes and instantly shrank away from his side guiltily. He missed her presence immediately, his head throbbed and he felt alone.

“Thank you,” he managed to croak out. He coughed, his throat ached and his voice was hoarse. “I - I need water.” Emma nodded, but didn’t look back at him. He leapt to his feet to get himself a drink, eager for the excuse to leave this awkward moment behind.

He busied himself with fetching drinks for both of them and tried to ignore what had just happened.

He returned to the living room with water for the both of them and they sat in silence.

“What was she like?” Emma’s words broke the awkward tension that had filled the room. He looked at her in surprise. “I just think she must have been very special for you to have tried to time travel for her. I’d like to hear about her - if you want to tell me of course.” Still he stared at her, surprised by the kind gesture. “It kind of seems like you need someone to talk to.”

How did she understand him so well already?

His friends had always wanted to help, but they had been so eager to see him recover that he found their attention stifling. He was struggling enough to adjust to his new life as an amputee, and their need to see him move on romantically too left him feeling broken and bitter.

You’re damaged, their actions said to him. You need fixing so you can stop being a burden - so we don’t have to worry about you anymore.

He knew that this was more than a little unfair to his nearest and dearest, but logic played no part in how he felt.

And now, here was this woman, who barely knew him, who might perhaps feel threatened by the ghost of his former love, and she could see exactly what he needed. How could he ever let her go?

“Milah loved to draw,” he began and Emma smiled, encouraging him to continue. “She was always looking for adventure and just taking a photo was never enough for her. She took so many pictures but when we travelled, she would still sit and sketch the people, the scenery, the exotic and unusual details she could see around us.” He laughed a little at the thought of her, lost in her own happy world, needing the peace of her art to help her process all the wonder around her despite filling entire rolls of film with photos. “She would sketch frantically, needing to record every detail, to make it hers. Those pictures are hers.” He gestured to the framed sketches adorning the wall above the TV.

Emma stood up and examined the scenes on the wall. Markets in India, bustling and full of life, tourists crowded around the Trevi Fountain in Rome throwing their coins and casting their wishes, lovers and families and friends sharing food and drinks in the cafes that spilled into the streets in Paris. Every scene carried that same chaotic, desperate pen stroke that was her trademark, creating detailed and vibrant scenes.

“She was so talented,” she said, her voice full of awe. She stared long at the lone painting in the middle of the drawings, a simple scene of the Thames in the moonlight, the lights of London glittering on the water. She gestured to the landscape as she turned back to Killian. “I love this one.”

Killian scratched behind his ear awkwardly. “That’s actually mine.” Emma’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “It was Milah’s favourite too. She insisted that we hang it alongside her pictures, but she was the one with the true talent.”

“You’re both amazing,” she said sincerely, once again staring at the art on the walls. “Do you still paint?”

“No,” his voice was hard and Emma looked back to him, frowning with concern. “I threw away my paints when - when everything happened. I didn’t have time for painting when I had Milah to save.” His voice turned wistful. “I never could bring myself to throw out her supplies though.”

He looked away from Emma’s penetrating gaze, stood up from the couch, and crossed to a bookshelf, plucking a sketchbook from it at random. He beckoned her to sit back down beside him, and when they were both seated, he held the book out to her. She took it hesitantly and opened it.

“This was one of Milah’s sketchbooks,” he explained, and Emma began to look through the book. She smiled at the patterns with the hastily scribbled notes, “Taj Mahal, 2007, stunning detail in the marble carvings”. The quick sketches of unaware women and children were studied with care, “lonely waitress, 2005”, “cheeky boy, 2008”, “happy siblings, 2006”.

The pictures of children always made Killian’s heart clench. They had wanted a family, had talked about trying for a baby, but Milah was scared of Gold’s retribution if she were to fall pregnant. Until he had completed his PhD, and they could leave England permanently, the risks were too great. But as time went on, Milah drew more and more children, longing for what she could not yet have. (For what she worried she might never have.)

Emma lingered over the pictures of the happiest children, Killian realised curiously. She seemed as drawn to their likenesses as Milah had been. He wondered at this, but would not push her to confide in him.

Emma turned a page and gasped a little. He looked down to see a picture of himself as he slept, lying on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms. He was naked, although the sketch stopped at his waist, where a blanket covered his modesty. The picture was intimate, not obscene, merely a study of the muscles in his back. He hadn’t noticed over the years how his physique had filled out as he built his strength in his training, but he could see at a glance how much better defined his muscles were now, compared to the somewhat gangly figure he had in his youth.

Emma stroked a finger across the image and he looked up in surprise. A blush had spread across Emma’s face. Despite himself, he grinned at the effect that this simple sketch had on her. She seemed flustered by the sight and helpless to stop herself from turning her eyes to the patch of hair on his chest exposed by his unfastened buttons.

Unthinkingly, she reached a hand out towards him. He licked his lips as his heart beat faster and swallowed hard. Tension filled the air as she ran her fingers through the dark curls of chest hair. He let out a soft sigh, barely even a sound, but it was enough for her to jump back from him as though burned.

He blinked at her, watching as she curled in on herself, embarrassed by her actions. The intimacy of the moment was too much for him and he defaulted to outrageous flirting to distance himself from it. “See something you like, love?” he teased, sticking his tongue into his cheek and quirking his brow suggestively.

“You wish,” she snorted derisively. “I need a drink.” She ran to the kitchen in the corner of the room and busied herself with noisily opening cupboards, banging around in search of refreshment.

Killian stared at her untouched water glass on the coffee table. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one struggling with what just happened.

“So what did you get up to today?” he asked brightly when Emma returned, politely ignoring the way her cheeks reddened as she spotted the second drink resting on the table. “Not been sketching all day I assume?”

“I watched the TV - very strange things appear to be happening in this realm.”

“What kind of things?” he asked, cocking his head at her with curiosity.

“The lady in the TV said that all the dogs in a place called Batter…” she trailed off, and frowned, apparently struggling to remember the name.

“Battersea Dogs Home?” Killian guessed and her eyes lit up.

“Yes! Battersea Dogs Home. They all vanished and were replaced by wolves in the night - who turned into people in the morning.”

“What?”

“Werewolves. Somehow a hundred dogs were replaced with werewolves. I take it they aren’t all that common in the Land Without Magic?”

“They're a myth as far as we're concerned.”

“Not anymore. There were some angry women on the TV arguing about whether they should be kept locked up or not.”

Killian blanched. “They wanted to keep the people in cages?”

“I think it was actually the wolves they wanted to be locked up. They just couldn't see that they're people most of the time.”

“I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

“There also was something called meat munchers -”

“I think you mean beefeaters,” Killian cut in, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“Whatever. Guards with stupid hats. They showed a moving picture thingy of them turning into the Evil Queen’s black guards. That was just a temporary glitch though. They all seem to be back to normal now.”

“Oh well, nothing to worry about if it’s only temporary,” he said sarcastically.

Emma raised a brow at him. “That machine of yours has caused more than enough permanent damage for us to worry about.”

He had no reply for her. Like it or not, she was absolutely right.

“The ruler of this kingdom was on the news talking about the ‘chaos in the capital’ too.”

“James Nolan actually did something?” Killian asked, stunned.

Emma scrunched her nose in disgust. “No. Not unless you call making vague speeches ‘doing something’. I only really remember him because he looks like my f- like someone I know.”

Killian looked at her quizzically, but she was once again taking a deep interest in Milah’s sketches so he wouldn’t press her to explain whatever it was that she stopped herself from saying. “Nolan really should have told me he’d be making speeches. I wouldn’t have spent all that time in the lab today if I knew he was going to be sorting everything out for me. What’s a doctorate in astrophysics and quantum mechanics compared to a first class degree in bullshit?”

Emma snorted with laughter and immediately looked a little ashamed at the noise. Killian thought it was utterly delightful to hear someone so happy (and if he was the cause of that, so much the better). Especially when it seemed that she’d been on the verge of retreating into a dark funk - he’d experienced enough himself to recognise the signs.

“It’s okay to laugh at my impeccable wit, Swan, I’m naturally hilarious, it’s understandable that you can’t help yourself.”

At this she rolled her eyes, but it brought the smile back to her face as he’d hoped it would. “I was thinking actually -”

“How I got to be so witty?” He hadn’t meant it as yet another show of false bravado, genuinely confused by where her train of thought could be going, but it came off as Killian Jones, Cocky Bastard™, all the same. He cringed internally, but grinned all the same.

“Surprisingly I find other things to think about than your big head.”

“I find it hard to believe you think about anything but me, but, please, do go on.”

“Well, you see, I was thinking that perhaps Ishouldbeusingmymagictohelp.” In her rush to get her words out, Emma didn’t seem to pause in between each one, running them all together into something that was almost - but not quite - English.

“Come again? It’s the Germans who go in for the big compound words, here in Great Britain we like to breathe in between them. Makes it easier for people to understand us you see.”

“Seriously?”

He knew that her exasperation was at his teasing banter, but he couldn’t resist reacting as though her question were sincere. “Seriously, you should try it sometime.”

“God ok, I thought I should using my magic to help, happy now?” She was glaring at him and he figured that he shouldn’t want to grin in delight at her, but he couldn’t help it.

“Aye,” he said with a nod, “very happy in fact. That sounds like an absolutely marvellous idea.”

“It does?”

He was confused at her uncertainty. “Why of course it does, you rescued me from certain death at the hands of an angry dragon, I doubt there’s anything you couldn’t overcome once you put your mind to it.”

One corner of her lip quirked up into a smile almost involuntarily. “Thanks,” she breathed out, looking directly at him with genuine gratitude radiating from her.

“I don’t know what I’ll do with myself when I don’t have you around to clean up my mess.” He’d meant it as a joke, but it felt just a little too genuine. He climbed to his feet and ambled over to his leather satchel, digging out the spare keys and phone he'd bought earlier. “It's just as well I picked these up for you on my way home,” he said, dropping them in Emma's lap, “you can't save London Town if you can't leave my flat.”

Emma picked up the phone turning it over in her hands. “Is this one of those talking phone things?” she asked.

“Just a phone, love. I can set it up for you, program my number in.” He caught the blank expression on Emma's face. “You'll have a Killian button, press it and you can talk to me if you need to.”

Killian thought he caught a glimpse of something akin to amazed gratitude in her eyes, but it was quickly gone leaving just a smirk on her face. “You think I'll need to talk to you?”

“Just in case my realm with its technological wizardry confuses you.”

“There aren't any wizards in your realm,” Emma reminded him.

“You'll have no need to call for my assistance then. I'm sure you're quite capable of handling anything alone, but you don't have to.”

There was a moment of silence between them, Emma looked overwhelmed by the sentiment and he found that he did too. It shouldn't have been much, but after shutting out his friends for so long, it felt like everything. He didn't know what had happened to her, but they understood each other and he was sure this was just a little too emotional and meaningful for her, as it was for him.

“Tomorrow, we best get you some new clothes,” he said, avoiding her eyes and desperately focusing on practical concerns. “Can't have you saving the world in Ruby's pulling clothes. It's Saturday, Gold might expect me to work, but I'm not letting that wanker dictate my schedule. Now how about some dinner?” He made to stand, but she stopped him with a tug on his arm.

“I don't know how I'll ever repay you for - ”

He couldn't look at her, feeling like a fraud in the warmth of her gratitude. He didn't deserve it. “No need, I'm just cleaning up my mess.”

“Killian,” she said, but stopped and waited until he met her eyes. “It's more than that and it - ” she took a deep breath “- it matters. Thank you.”

He nodded to show he understood, but couldn't find the words. Somehow in just a few days Emma had come to mean so much to him. He would give her everything, but still it wouldn't be enough to mean that he could keep her with him. He wasn't worthy of her and he never would be.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hey there lovelies! I was wondering if you could make a list where Derek is the bad boy of the school and he underestimates Stiles but it ends up as Sterek anyway? Or basically badboy!Derek where he starts a meanie and ends up totally in love, doesn't have to be in school but they are the cutest lmao :D Thanks for your help! ~M.

Sterek fics with Badboy/bully!Derek it is! (Mostly high school aus)  -Emmy

Serious by AlexTheShipper 

(2,135 I General I Complete)  *nerd!stiles

Derek asks Stiles out on valentines day, but Stiles mistakes it for a prank. Leaving Derek confused, and Stiles hurt, can their friends fix it? 

Don’t Judge a Book by His Cover by captaintinymite (augopher)

(4,510 I Mature I Complete)  *nerd!stiles

Stiles doesn’t care about the rumors surrounding Beacon Hills High School’s resident bad boy, Derek Hale. In fact, he thinks the rumors are total crap. Of course, being secretly in love with someone has a way of clouding one’s judgment.

However, he knew for a fact that Derek liked books. So when the two paired up for a final English project, he was excited (but also a little terrified).

But you know what they say…never judge a book by its cover. The same goes for people.

A Devil Named Derek by Mimiminaj

(5,835 I Mature I Complete)  *pastor’s son!stiles

Derek Hale is the resident bad boy of Beacon Hills. At 22, two years after his family burned alive, his sister still forces him to attend church every other month. When Stiles returns from his mission trip, Derek practically salivates at the chance to ruin the boy. He wants to take his virginity, and he want’s to take it now. (Dark! Derek. Pastor’s Son! Stiles. Sexual Content)

Good Shabbat by Benaya 

(6,055 I Not Rated I Complete)  *Jewish!Stilinski family, nerd!stiles

Stiles lost his faith after his mother’s death and now that finally things got back to being normal, someone new has decided to destroy his life again.

The Athlete and the Criminal by damnfancyscotch 

(12,122 I Explicit I Complete)  *breakfast club au

“What’re you doing here, Stilinski? Did you only score half the winning points at the last lacrosse game instead of all of them?”

Stiles snorts and says, “I thought you were locked up, Hale.”

Derek huffs a laugh and drawls, “Not quite yet.”

or

A Breakfast Club AU

Mr. Tan and Muscular by KostraKitty 

(12,440 I Explicit I Complete)   *roommates/housemates, lacrosse captain!derek

Stiles’ life had been a living hell since kindergarten where a certain Derek Hale tortured him on a daily basis throughout the years. Stiles is a completely lonely and slightly depressed teenager just trying to get through the days when the worst thing imaginable happened. Derek moved in. Turns out what Stiles thought would be hell, actually turned out to be exactly what he needed.

That’s Debatable by cloudsarefluffy 

(16.703 I Mature I Complete)  *omega!stiles

Stiles is known for not being a run-of-the-mill omega.

He’s mouthy, stubborn, strongly opinionated, and he doesn’t appreciate egotistical alphas in the slightest. In fact, he’ll tell them exactly where to shove it— … if he could. Sadly, when you’re in a Contemporary Issues class at school with a teacher who loves write-ups, one must curb the tongue to some degree.

Even when lacrosse star and alpha Derek Hale is being a massive asshole, and continues to argue with Stiles every chance he gets.

Love Hurts by DustinMcDreamy 

(17,366 I Explicit I Complete)

Stiles Stilinski is a high school sophomore, and his life is a living hell because of senior Derek Hale, but Stiles doesn’t want to do anything about it because he knows something. This is in a “Flipped” format, with chapters alternating between Stiles and Derek’s lives.

You Are My Undoing by Samcgrath 

(47,392 I Explicit I WIP)   *sick!stiles

Derek Hale is the bad boy of Beacon Hills everyone wants their kids to stay away from so obviously Stiles Stilinski talks back to him. Derek remembers Stiles from years ago, before the fire, and now the kid gets under his skin. Derek’s already dealing with a lifetime of angst, and he knows giving in to his feelings means certain pain. Especially when Stiles gets sick.

In a Moment of Vulnerability by cloudsarefluffy 

(87,097 I Explicit I Complete)   *omega!stiles, mpreg

While in New York City to visit his aspiring and success-hungry friend Scott, who left for an internship he fought for over several years ago, Stiles runs into an alpha with a devilish reputation and a dark, tantalizing look that precedes him. Couple that with horny loneliness and failed suppressants, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for a one-night stand that will set the bar forever.

But what if forever isn’t something that the one person you’ve given yourself to wants? What if a forever is somehow growing inside of you after a few months pass and a planned heat is missed? What if you don’t know what to do and there’s only so much chocolate that can soothe an aching heart before you feel like you’ve got morning sickness all over again?

This is a story about how Stiles loses his virginity alongside himself, and somehow, he manages to find something he never thought he’d ever have along the way.

Under the Surface by 1jet2unknown

(99,633 I Explicit I WIP)   *college au

Stiles had been warned several times by his father to never go near a werewolf. But the 12 year old kid just couldn’t resist its curiousity and even though the wounded wolf he found near the woods should have been terrifying, he brought him home, trying to help him heal. Little did he know that this encounter would bring out a side of him he never knew and would have to hide forever, even with the world around him changing over the years and werewolf turning from mystic legends to open members of the community.When Stiles enters College and his life gets more and more entangled with Derek Hale, it gets harder and harder for him to hide his true self from the world…

The Fire in my Veins by tearsandholdme

(128,742 I Explicit I Complete)

Derek Hale is the resident bad boy that everyone warns Stiles about. They judge him but they don’t know him, not the real him, and it doesn’t stop Stiles from wanting and falling for Derek anyway. He’s got underneath his skin for both of them and no amount of warning is about to keep him away from Derek. Stiles can’t imagine his life without him.

Blue Monday by ExpectNothingGainEverything

(244,036 I Explicit I WIP)   *omega!stiles, mpreg

Stiles would have never guessed that the star player of the lacrosse team and presumably the hottest guy in school who everyone wanted a piece of and one of his most hated bullies would turn out to be his soulmate.

Derek would never have dreamed that fate would be so cruel to pair him up with a freak like Stilinski.

[fyrapartnersearch]

SHAME SHAME SHAME

everybody's people watchin' everybody’s punch clockin’

hey how are ya my name is emmy and i’m here to search for a new rp partner. a bit about me, i’m 22, canadian, work two part time jobs and attend uni full time and i go by she/her pronouns. i reside in the mountain timezone and i am thrilled to hopefully start writing with you. 

why should you write with me? because i promise that if i pick up an rp with you i’m gonna put 100 and 10 percent of my effort into our story. i’m looking for a long term gig, someone who i can really weave a plot with, someone who digs the cut of my jib. i want us to be able to sob over our characters together late into the night. i want us to exchange songs, playlists, posts found on the internet, aesthetic boards, whatever reminds us of our characters/our plot.

i will probably spam you with pictures of my character’s playby and i want to see mad pics of yours, too. i want us to go through our character’s struggles together as well as be able to cheer together when our characters get a hold on their situation and come up on top. i want us to inspire one another with our writing. it’s gonna be great. you & me honey. 

right now I'm looking for 1-2 new rp partners who are interested in something long-term and fully fleshed out. think 'mains'. 

gee, that sounds nice! i’m inclined to agree! but a few things you should know before you go any further: i write anywhere between full lit to lit + to novella style, so expect posts of at least 4 - 6 paragraphs baseline. sometimes i crank out 10. or just 5. depends entirely on what’s going on. i write according to situation, with a great amount of detail spent on what my character is thinking/feeling in response to yours. the replies you get will be fully fleshed out & enthralling. i am a stickler for grammar and spelling, though nobody’s perfect, i do occasionally have my slipups. all lowercase text is strictly kept to ooc communication. i can be sporadic with capitalization ooc but still keep good spelling. i will never pressure you into posting or writing ridiculous amounts just to match my post. i want you to have fun too! if i’ve had a bit too much to drink or am about to hit the hay, i’ll wait to post until i can give my post my full attention. usually i’ll be able to post at least once every week, sometimes multiple times a week depending on work & schoolwork. i'm available for ooc chat almost all the time. i also totally understand life happens and sometimes we just need a breather. ♥ i have bipolar depression, and sometimes my depression kicks my ass, but i’ll let you know when that happens.

oh goodness, what else? i write predominantly m/m pairings but i am open to m/f and f/f as well. i do not write high fantasy settings, sorry doll. my interests mostly align with modern day, slice of life kinda stuff, aside from the fandoms i do have. i don’t have many limits besides excessive gore, scat, mpreg, and writing smut for sake of smut. i love my romance just like anyone else does, but it’s got to have plot. our characters have to have chemistry or else i get bored. i haven’t doubled before but i think i’d be down for it with the right plot. usually i prefer that we play one character each, or we play multiple characters within a plot, but not usually more than one plot at the same time. but!!! i am totally willing to try new things!! just be patient with me as i learn m'kay? i have had several threads going at once with one partner which can be super fun. also most of my characters are pretty kinky but like, i prefer that we talk about kinks and limits one on one as opposed to airing out my character’s laundry. also- i wanna be your friend ooc. let’s chat. i find it’s so much easier to have muse and post if i enjoy the virtual company of the people i’m writing with.

ok but what do you write? 

what *don’t* i write? kidding. here’s a bit of fandom for ya. if i’ve got plots listed, they’re the ideas i have, but i’m totally open to yours as well. stars denote how much i’m craving them. i’ll list the canon characters i write after i list the fandom: 

mafia 2: vito scaletta  ***plot for mafia 2 a: we explore the dynamics of a relationship between vito and your oc. your oc could be in a position of great risk- think outside of the mafia, possibly a police officer, prostitute. some position where power dynamics could be played with. if the pairing is m/m we also deal with the themes of internalized homophobia and coming to terms with one’s identity. 

*bioshock 1, 2 & infinite: brigid tenbenbaum, andrew ryan, frank frontaine & eleanor lamb, sofia lamb & booker dewitt 

**marvel cinematic universe: tony stark, steve rogers

***greater marvel universe: logan howlett, carol danvers  ****random plot: we do a crossover and we ship sharon carter/carol danvers. i just. uuugh i have a lot of feelings about them and i have hella muse for these babes. lemme know if you’re down to give this a shot i will love you forever no word of a lie. 

but honestly where my heart lies is within oc rp. here are a few plots i have of mine, stars denote how much i’m craving them:

****(m/m) power & politics: my oc is a prestigious state senator, who lives a double life. he is currently in the closet with no intent on leaving it anytime soon. however, a certain someone falls into his life, making him question what he thought he knew for certain. your oc breaks down the walls my oc has put up and changes him into a softer, better man. however, with an upcoming presidential campaign on the horizon for my oc, the limits of the secret relationship will be pushed and pulled beyond what both parties have ‘signed up for.‘

****(m/m) the guardian: your oc is a newcomer to the nhl but is quickly making waves- think connor mcdavid style. he’s young and impressive, but mostly, impressionable. he starts to get battered around by both his teammates and opposing teams. after a few hard hits and fowl play within the game that have cost your oc bench and recovery time, the team’s coach calls in reinforcements to boost the team’s morale and serve as a protector to your oc. my oc is a player who hasn’t got the talent part but has got a huge heart. not to mention… huge hands. good for makin’ fists. good for fightin’.  my oc protects your oc during the games, coming to your oc’s aid, picking fights for your oc and protecting him on the ice. as such, the two players grow attached to one another.. perhaps too attached for the captain to be comfortable with. possibilities for a love triangle and other complications, for sure

***(m/m) too good to be true: our ocs start out in the whl, both as promising wingers. their good chemistry is vital to bringing back their team’s success. however, one of our ocs starts to get too attached to the other, and when an nhl draft separates them, one of our ocs is all too eager to cut contact and try to forget. the two excel in their nhl careers without one another, and end up on nhl teams with a history of deep rivalry. occasionally, the gloves hit the ice, fueled by the tension of unresolved feelings and the pressure of the respective teams to keep up the rivalry. the two are reunited when they are both chosen to play nationally for the same team, and are forced to reconcile what they have both buried so deeply within them. 

***(m/m) big money: these two ocs play for rival teams in the nhl. while their teams have a history of tension, our two ocs take it to the next level. audiences are more excited to watch these two fight than they are to watch the game itself. there’s a market in the violence between these two, and a reputation to maintain on both ends. if the public found out that these two were secretly seeing one another, their careers would both be over. 

**** (m/m) sugar daddy: my oc is a law student studying in your oc's country in order to get their degree abroad. they're from eastern europe and uh. broke af. they settle into an arrangement with your oc where your oc agrees to ~pay him for his company after they meet while my oc does camming online to make ends meet. we could take it anywhere- your oc could whisk mine off his feet and 'save' him or. be toxic & trashy and make my oc's life hell.

okay and, here are just some general prompts that could be intertwined with the plots above, or could be something we use to springboard into our own rp:

my oc has serious commitment issues. they often go around ‘ghosting’ individuals after 4-5 dates, with little to no explanation of why. your oc falls for mine, and is the first to confront my oc about their shitty habits. 

your oc and my oc were best friends, but they lost touch over a stupid fight they had when they were preteens. they can’t believe that they’re seeing one another in a bar, halfway across the world from where they met. 

your oc and my oc were flames. my oc proposed to yours, but yours turned them down. they never spoke again… until they were sharing a crammed elevator, with my oc being completely intoxicated, and still confessing their feelings for your oc. 

your oc is a huge fan of my oc’s nhl career/political career. your oc wins a contest to meet and have dinner with my oc. while my oc expects a boring night out, my oc is completely surprised by how well they hit it off with your oc. 

my oc, your first oc and your second oc all grew up together. your first oc has always been pining for my oc’s attention, and is thrilled when my oc and your first oc finally get together. they develop a long term relationship, but my oc knows it would devastate your first oc if they told them that they have been seeing your second oc for most of the relationship. 

i recognize that a lot of these focus on the nhl/the lives of professional hockey players- please don’t be worried about hockey knowledge/nhl jargon/whatever else goes through your head! i’m more interested in sport as a realm for drama than i am for following the rulebook and being 100% accurate to life when it comes to hockey. there’s a lot i don’t know and am still needing to learn, myself! if you know a lot, great!! if you don’t, let’s figure things out together! as for general oc ideas, here’s a list:

professor x student

veteran x civillian

cop x criminal 

psychiatrist x patient

** OC superheroes (I have a lot of muse for this one!)

street racing, fast-and-furious-esque setting

rival gangs 

** nhl/hockey based (lol obviously)

small town canadiana or americana 

fun, fluffy romance based modern settings

darker themes such as addiction, abuse, etc - i find it cathartic sometimes to write about violent material buuuut this has to be really fleshed out between us

historical setting- preferably, the second world war/1940s-1960s 

light worldbuilding - new to this but wanting to learn

honestly whatever you can pitch to me that isn’t high fantasy :)

i can expand on and work with any of these ideas, these are just like, topics. whatever i do with you, i promise it’ll be fleshed out, with tons of opportunity for drama. 

hell yeah let’s do this pal 

if any, and i mean any, of this piqued your fancy, pleaaaase shoot me an email at 

↳ ehmmywrites@gmail.com ! 

i will respond! but please send me something thoughtful! i’d like to hear what part of my ad that you’re interested in/why you chose to contact me. i am most wanting to rp over email and talk over google hangouts but i can be open to skype, too.  i sure look forward to hearing from you!   ♥

emmy

[buckyywiththegoodhair]

Good Hair, Better Fics (Best of 2017 Edition)

We made it y’all - the last day of 2017. It somehow feels like this year dragged on for far too long and flew by all at once. Through it all, there were countless fics that made this this year a bearable one. Fics that deserve to be placed in the spotlight alongside authors who deserve all the thanks in the world. 

In order to do just that, I’ve listed a bunch of fics below and decided to include my reactions to each one. This is gonna get long.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Salvation | @marvelingatthewonder​

Amberly, I don’t know if you’re going to see this or not, but I need you to know that I never got over the excellence of this fic. Never. And I don’t thing I ever will. You showed us the relationship between the reader and Bucky not through their words, but through their thoughts and actions. And that moment when Bucky realized someone out there could care about him? I’ll never forget the way my heart sang.

Faithfully | @avengerofyourheart

‘Faithfully’ is a song that owns m heart. It’s one of those songs where, if it comes up on a shuffle, I’m not allowed to skip (not that I’d want to). So, when I saw you wrote a fic based off of the song with Rockstar!Bucky? I was floating on clouds. And I continued to float on those clouds throughout the entirety of this well-written fic with an even better plot. Now when I hear this song, I think of this fic and you.

Cheap Thrills | @avengerofyourheart​​

Gosh. I remember reading this fic and practically dancing in my seat. I had to refrain (probably because I was around people), but when I get too happy to put into words, dancing is my go-to option. That’s what your writing and this wonderfully fun fic did to me. 

New Beginnings | @redgillan​​

The realism of this fic was killer, Maisie. Whenever I think about it, the first thing that comes to mind is “bittersweet”. The second is “what if?”. You gave us the perfect combination of both when hitting ‘Post’, sharing this gift with the rest of us and making the conscious decision not to write a sequel. Happy endings aren’t guaranteed and knowing that the reader and Bucky just missed out on what could’ve been a beautiful relationship alongside the hints that all of the friendships you wrote about don’t make it out unscathed was something tangible. Something I could relate to and i thank you for that.

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) | @cassiopeiassky​

My darling, Cass. In my eyes, this isn’t a Tumblr series. It’s so much more than that. It’s a novel that I’ve been lucky enough to find for free online (even though I’d be more than happy to pay to have this on my shelf). The depth of each and every character you’ve included is impeccable. The emotions you write about are raw and real and I feel them. Whenever I start a new part, I kid you not when I say that my heart starts and stops, clenches and thumps away happily. This is what you and your writing do to me.

Roses | @rotisserierogers​

You broke my heart, Kumi. I’m not sure if you’re aware of that, but you did. Your writing and this fic did that to me. “Is it possible to win a girl’s heart in a day?” I’m convinced that the answer to this is yes because it took approximately 1.3k words for you to win my heart and then proceed to break it.

ocean eyes | @whothehellisbella​

Angelic Isabella, you stunned me with this fic. Not because I was surprised you could write something so beautiful (you do it on the regular), but because of how perfect it was. Finding the right words is never easy, I’m sure every writer is fully aware of that, but you somehow managed. You wrangled the English language as if you were a farmhand and it was a wild horse and you made it bend to your will and calm down under your touch. I don’t know if this makes sense so, if it doesn’t please know this fic meant the world to me. And it really is something I could read every day without growing tired of it.

Lovebug | @thewinterswimmer​

I have never forgotten this fic. I will never forget it because it is one of the best things i have ever read. You evoked every possible emotion out of me. When I say you took my breath away, I hope you know that’s not an exaggeration. I could feel the time and effort you put into this and I hope you know how appreciative I am of it.

The Ink of My Heart | @theassetseyeliner​

This was easily one of the most unique fics I’ve ever read. I was intrigued by the concept and you kept my interest for the entirety of everything you wrote. Also, you made me realize something I never realized before - I would very greatly appreciate having a tattoo artist!Bucky in my life.

Intertwined | @theassetseyeliner​​

Erin, my love. I am a sucker for royal!au’s and this one in particular was so damn adorable. I can’t tell you how excited I was when I saw the word count for this. It was the perfect length with all the best details and all the most fluffy things going. Just writing about it now makes me want to go back and read it and I think I’m going to do just that.

Home | @spee-iderman​

These days, people make it a habit to refer to things as ‘soft’. You yourself used it in your summary for this fic. And, let me tell you, you did not lie. In this world you created around Bucky and the reader, everything is soft. If I had to compare this fic to an object, it’d be a blanket or a fireplace or anything else that could be used to keep me warm because that’s exactly how my heart felt while reading it. Warm and happy. 

If I’d Stayed | @soldatbarnes​

Nikki, my love. This fic. THIS FIC. What you did with it was you took my heart, which I willingly handed over to you, and smashed it in the most beautiful way possible - with your words. That ending where he’s at her tombstone and he thinks about her refusing to let him go off to war without taking his last name because she wanted him to know she was waiting for him, no matter what?? Killer. You’re much more talented than you give yourself credit for.

Flirt | @soldatbarnes​​

This fic is exactly what I wish would happen to my shy-as-hell self. You captured the whole shyness, being a terrible flirt thing to a tee. I couldn’t just sit back and read this. I had to sit back, read it, and nod along like crazy because I knew exactly where the reader was coming from. And the fact that I couldn’t stop nodding? Well I’d say that speaks volumes about your abilities as a writer.

Hearts Entwining | @lovingkatsuki

Jade, there’s something about your writing. Something I struggle to put into words every time I come across one of your fics. Something I’m struggling to do right now as I think back to how I felt while reading this fic. But here I am, convinced that this will be the time that I finally find a way to properly express myself. I’ve never been to a ballet, but I can imagine that people keep their eyes trained the stage with bated breath as delicate excellence unfolds right in front of their eyes. Hopefully what I just said makes sense because that’s how it felt to read this. 

roygbiv | @marvelous-fiction​

The idea to use colors to describe a person’s feelings is such a brilliant idea and I’m certain that no one could have done this as well as you did. You made me look at the colors in a whole new light and you did it so beautifully. I could feel the love that the reader and Bucky had for each other. And you accomplished that in 1,100 words - I hope you know how impressive that is.

The Five Times You Caught Bucky Blushing | @mindingmyownbusiness​​

Elizabeth, this series of yours is the definition of adorable. I remember sitting at my kitchen table reading through the whole thing with the biggest smile on my face. You know there’s the whole notion of people having ‘feel-good’ things (shows, movies, books, etc.) that make them happy? That’s exactly what this fic was to me.

open letter | @bookybuns​​

Heartbreak is such a complex subject. How does one write about it in a way that is relatable? Understood by an audience who have (potentially) experienced this very emotion, all to varying degrees? Well apparently you, my darling Blade have the answer to this question. You wrote this piece, gave us the juxtaposition of happiness and pain and somewhere in between it all, took my heart with you. And of course, you accomplished such a feat in the most stunning, eloquent way possible.

Bring It to You | @thewinterswimmer​

When I think back on this fic, I remember how well you portrayed Bucky and his general tiredness. You didn’t spend much time describing him and yet, with the small amount of words you did dedicate to him, wow. I felt his exhaustion, which made it that much better when the reader came to save the day. And your descriptions of the reader and Bucky together? Holy hell. I haven’t reread the fic since reblogging it, but I still clearly remember your description of the look in his eyes when he was looking at the reader. And the fact that I remember that really is a testament to your writing.

Like Rose | @viollettes​

Being a beta-reader for your writing was one of the easiest tasks a person could do entirely because there were rarely any corrections that needed to be made. Other than a spelling error or two, everything you wrote was spell-bounding and this fic is no different. It’s an interesting concept really, to take comfort out of a movie that was built around a tragedy. But that’s what you always did, isn’t it? You saw the beauty in everything and I admire you immensely for that.

Steve Rogers x Reader

Two Weeks | @viollettes​

The emotions you were able to evoke with your writing were always out of this world, babe. I will never forget the way my heart ached while beta-reading this for you and knowing that your personal experiences inspired it. You molded something beautiful out of something heart-wrenchingly terrible. You were always good at that.

“Dating Pre-Serum Steve” | @aubzylynn​

I still remember the moment I read this headcanon you had written. It showed up on my dash and I was intrigued. That intrigue quickly gave way to love and admiration because holy hell, you had written something so damn beautiful and amazing. After I finished reading it, I had to stop for a few seconds and take it all in while also reconciling the fact that, unfortunately, there is no pre-serum Steve for me to love. But if you somehow find a way to write one into existence, please remember me.

Wrong Number, Right Person | @4theluvofall​​

There was so much cuteness in this fic. So damn much. Enough to keep me smiling the entire time I was reading it. I love them getting to know each other before actually meeting. I love meddling Tony. I love the nervousness that sets in for the reader after she sends something close to her heart to Steve and fears his response (so relatable!). You gave us all the best things with this fic, truly.

Christmas to Remember | @avengerofyourheart​

ANIKA. YOU BROUGHT BACK MY FAVORITE MINI-SERIES AND I FLIPPED. Not only did you bring it back, you slayed. In this case, the things that were slayed were: my emotions, heart, and soul. But slayed in the best way possible because everything about it was pure gold.

Autumn | @viollettes​​

The last thing we spoke about was this fic and your writing. I can’t imagine a better final conversation to have. This fic was a reminder that hope is out there and I’ll carry that message (and you) with me in my heart. Always.

The Lonely Tree | @sarahwroteathing​

This series took my breath away. Just thinking about it has the same effect. This was a masterpiece, from start to finish. I was also hooked from the very beginning, entranced by your writing style and ability to make me feel like I really was in the story. And don’t even get me started on your portrayal of artist!Steve seriously, don’t - we’ll be here all day.

Peter Parker x Reader

the six stages of falling in love | @parkerstcr​

My darling, May. It is my hope that, at this point, you know how deep my love for this series and your writing is. There’s something beautiful and insanely poetic about the way you write. To say it ‘flows well’ would be the gosh dang understatement of the century. It does so much more more than flow. It soars and it makes me feel like I’m flying right along with it.

enough | @parkerstcr​​

You do angst well. Like too well. Like give my heart a break well. Luckily for me, you did give me a break and let this one end on a high note even though the path to get there was real rough and I didn’t know if I was going to make it out with my heart intact. 

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Stole the Show | @writingruna​

“Pulled at my heartstrings” is an overused expression. You hear it so much that it begins to lose its meaning. For me, that expression gained back all of its meaning after reading this fic. I’m pretty sure my heart was begging me to stop reading this fic because of how much pain it was in. When it comes to angst, you don’t play around and that’s something I’m grateful for. 

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Know No Better | @ughjoekeery​ 

You know that saying “the best of both worlds”? That perfectly describes this. You gave me Bucky. You gave me insecure Eggsy. You gave me the amazing level of writing that only you can produce. You gave me everything I could ever want and so much more. 

Safe Haven | @ughjoekeery​​

When I was rereading this, the first thing that came to mind was “we found love in a hopeless place”. That’s what happened between the reader and Eggsy. That poor man found the love that he deserved and you gave me Roxy. You are a true angel, a queen, and I’m so thankful to you for writing this and giving me the good stuff my poor soul needed especially after the trash that was Kingsman 2.