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renegadesfic · 2 years ago

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The Radiant Sun - Chapter 1

So this is different from what I normally post here - I just figured I'd do it here since it's still writing. This is original fiction, crossposted to AO3 and eventually its own website, that follows the story of the D&D party whose campaign I just wrapped up. For more notes and tags see the AO3 page! And without further ado...

They met, as all good adventuring parties do, in a tavern.

“Attention, patrons! Attention, please!”

All heads in the building turned to the open double doors - or, more specifically, to the slightly-too-well-dressed man standing in the doorway, a scroll in his hand and a look of immense displeasure on his face.

“My name, as you all should know, is Lord Faryn Venmoir, Chamberlain of House Satra. I have come to share…” An uncomfortably long pause, and then: “A request, put forth by the king. A call to any and all adventurers, known or… less known. He is searching for those willing to undertake a dangerous, potentially deadly mission, and one of the utmost importance - for Princess Kyria has gone missing.”

There were a few murmurs and quiet gasps amongst the half-crowd - this was new news, and the implication that the higher-class adventurers had already tried and failed to find her was a daunting one.

In the corner, a tall, lanky boy with curved horns matching his crimson skin moved to stand, only to be tugged back into his seat by a girl about his age, red hair a couple of shades more orange than her companion’s complexion. A few people at the tables nearest them turned their heads, but their attention was recaptured quickly by the overly pronounced sound of the chamberlain clearing his throat.

“Ahem. I will post this scroll here, on this bulletin board.” Two guards took the scroll from his hands and pinned it to the corkboard that hung on the wall next to the left of the double doors, unconcerned with the fact that they were covering every other message posted beneath their more important notice. “I will discuss with our guard for a moment. If, in that time, someone chooses to volunteer, please come and speak with me. Your efforts will be highly rewarded.”

“Okay, so if money’s on the table-”

“Razor!”

The red-skinned boy had stood fully from his seat this time, dragging his companion to her feet with him. He spoke loudly and confidently, despite the chamberlain’s unamused face turning to active disdain the second he saw him, and despite the girl’s best efforts, she could not silence him in time, her admonishment seeming to fall on deaf ears.

“Yes,” the chamberlain half-hissed through gritted teeth, “there will be financial compensation for a successful completion of the objective.”

“Cool! I’m in.”

“We,” the girl spoke, “are both interested. Thank you, Chamberlain Venmoir, for the opportunity.”

“See to it, then, that you are at the castle by evening. Whomever else comes to join you will be working with you as you undertake this mission.” He spoke calmly, but the clenched fists at his sides indicated that he might be slightly less calm than he was making an effort to appear.

“I would also like to help,” another girl spoke from one of the tables nearest the doors. “If… that’s alright?” She turned her head toward the boy - Razor - and his companion.

“Sure, why not? Not like the two of us are gonna do much on our own.” He grinned at her, a lopsided expression that was toothy enough to show his fangs. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Awesome! Thank you! I will do my absolute best to not let you down! I promise I’ll be very helpful, I’m really good at… healing… and…” she trailed off, noticing now that she was being leveled with a deep, deep stare from the chamberlain. “Sorry…”

“You may travel with… them… to the castle, then.” Lord Venmoir responded. “Are there any further volunteers?”

“If you don’t mind, my lord, I would like to participate as well.” A woman who appeared to be in her twenties, her pointed ears adorned with piercings and hanging jewelry, stood from her seat. She had, before the entrance of the chamberlain, been quietly fiddling with an instrument as she sat next to the stage in the back of the tavern. A performer, the first three volunteers could assume, perhaps a bard of some sort. She was older than all three of them - though elven aging required a bit more detail in assessing it comparatively, Razor and his companion clearly had human-aligned lifespans, and while the enthusiasm in the third girl had died down, she still had plucky teenage adventurer scrawled all over her expression and presentation.

“Wonderful,” the chamberlain said, holding less resentment and more relief in his expression as someone who looked more than sixteen volunteered.

Of course, that relief was short-lived, for the next to stand was a girl who looked like she couldn’t be more than fourteen, and that was a generous assumption. She was short, even for a dark elf, and her hair was messy, though it hung short enough to not need to be pulled back.

“I would also like to come,” she said, her Rs catching as her accent made itself clear. Most dark elves held a similar accent, at least those who had come from the Below in the last few generations, but the pitch of her voice made it even clearer that she couldn’t even be as old as the baby-faced high elf, much less anywhere near the age of the bard.

“Fuck yeah!” Razor cheered, cutting off the chamberlain’s response. Instead of attempting to talk over the boy, Lord Venmoir simply pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to the door.

“With that,” he said, “I will return to the castle. These five will follow me. Should anyone else show interest in volunteering, I recommend you meet us there.”

He stepped through the doorway, gesturing for the new recruits to follow him. The small entourage of guards he had brought moved to follow, save for two who stayed to hold the doors open for the new adventurers.

Most eyes turned back to their tables, drinks, and conversations, so it was easy for a hooded figure who had stayed virtually unnoticeable during the event to rise and follow without drawing much attention to themself. As the newly-formed search party exited the tavern, their undetected shadow kept just enough distance between them that they might not be easily noticed.

—

“So, who are you guys?” The dark elf turned to the rest of the group, beginning to walk backwards with impressive coordination.

“Razor,” the boy of the group proclaimed. “I’m a fire magic prodigy.” A spark of flame ignited at his fingertips as he spoke, following the movements of his hand as he twirled it between his fingers like a skilled rogue would with a knife.

“Verona,” his companion said. “I’m… also good with magic. And I can heal, at least a little.”

“I’m also a healer!” The girl who had volunteered after them spoke. “I’m a cleric, I follow The Elf-Father. I was raised in service, and I chose to continue my service as an adventurer! My life’s goal is to cure the sick, heal the wounded, and bring life to every corner of Toris.” She puffed her chest out, pride evident in her tone and posture - and then drew back into herself again, like a balloon whose air was let out accidentally. “And… my name… is… Aiyise.”

“You’re a cleric of the Elf-Father, huh.” The dark elf tilted her head.

“Yes! I am… oh… is that… a problem?” It seemed to click in her head that perhaps a dark elf might not be so inclined to travel with a high elf dedicated to the god specifically presiding over high elves, especially not within the current climate.

“Nah, you’re fine. Just checking.” A mischievous expression dashed across the tiny girl’s face. “I’m Alixa, by the way. Master of knives. Lady of Knives, if you want. I’ve been trying to get that to stick.”

“Okay, Lady of Knives, I have a question for you.” Razor turned to her. “How does a twelve-year-old get started adventuring?”

“I’m fifteen,” she shot a glare at him. “And it’s hard not to leave home when there’s a war going on at your doorstep.”

“Right, okay. War?”

“You, uh… you don’t know about the war?” Aiyise looked him up and down. “How?”

“How what?”

“How don’t you know about the war?”

“What war?”

“The attempted expansion into the Below? You know, the thing half the kingdom’s up in arms against the other half about?” Aiyise looked down as she spoke - maybe nervous, maybe embarrassed, maybe a little of both.

“Never heard of it,” Razor said, shrugging his shoulders. “Sounds like a big deal though. Sorry about that, Lady.”

“Not like I really remember much from down there. I haven’t been back since I was six.”

“And you’re fifteen?” Aiyise asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“That war’s been going on since before you were born.”

“Yep!”

“That… I’m sorry, that’s…”

Alixa cut her off. “Seriously, don’t. It’s fine. Like I said, I barely remember it. And it’s not like you’re the one down there killing people.”

“No, but…”

“Listen. Aiyise, right? I don’t care if you’re a high elf, I don’t care if you’re a cleric to the Elf-Father, whatever. As long as you’re not gonna be an ass about my skin tone, I don’t care what your deal is. We have bigger problems, right?”

“Like finding the princess,” Verona offered.

“Yeah. Like finding the princess.” Alixa affirmed. She reached to pat Aiyise on the shoulder, which was just a little below eye level for her.

“Are you… sure?”

“Are you gonna be an ass about it?”

“No! I would never… I… that’s not something I would do. I was raised in a culture of only acceptance and love. I wouldn’t judge anyone for anything like that.”

“Then we’re cool,” she said, and flashed a grin, turning away and pulling a knife out of a sheath on her belt, tossing it into the air and catching it.

“So,” Razor said, “one of us still needs to introduce themself.”

“Two,” Alixa said.

“Two?”

“Did you not notice the girl who’s been following us since we left?”

At that moment, the party did, in fact, finally notice the figure shadowing them.

“You have to introduce yourself too, if you’re coming!” Alixa called back. The figure, which the rest of the group now noticed was floating a few inches off the ground, floated closer.

“Um… hi?” Aiyise looked at the figure. There was a long pause.

“Hello,” a quiet, somber voice finally spoke, cutting through the awkward silence. She - presumably she, her voice would indicate - dropped the hood of her cloak, revealing deep brown skin and pure white eyes, a slight glow emanating from her sclera. She looked like she could be around the age of the bard who had yet to introduce herself. “My name is Shade Castlekeep. I hope it’s alright if I accompany you.”

“Fuck yeah,” Alixa said, before the others had time to respond.

“And I,” the bard finally spoke, “am Avaciel. I’ve traveled for several years, spreading music and stories, but I thought my magic - and knowledge of the realm - might come in handy for this task. I’ve… honestly been a little restless lately.”

“As have I,” Shade said, her voice still low and quiet, yet entirely audible despite the chatter from the people talking in the streets around them. “I could use something to do with my time.”

“Well, this sure will be something to do,” Razor offered his hand to shake. “Welcome to the party!”

Shade took his hand, grip firm. Firmer than Razor had expected, maybe, because he tugged his wrist away a little as if instinctively trying to wriggle out of her grasp. She let go at the motion, but made no note of the gesture beyond that.

“So, how long to the castle?” Razor turned back to the chamberlain, who had been trying his best to ignore the conversation behind him.

“Look in front of you, boy.”

Sure enough, the party had traveled through most of the middle-class sector of the capital city of Fallenoak, reaching the high-class housing where nobility and other high-class citizens spent their time.

“Holy shit,” Razor and Verona said at the same time.

“You’ve never seen it before?” Avaciel looked at them.

“Sort of? It’s… bigger up close,” Verona murmured.

“Way bigger. We saw it through windows sometimes, but never like this. I’ve never been near a building this big.” Razor was staring up at the high stone walls, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

“It’s… definitely cooler in person,” Aiyise added. “My family has traveled here before, but I’d only ever seen paintings and pictures. It’s beautiful…”

And beautiful it was, the pale grey stone seeming almost polished despite having weathered countless storms, survived thousands of years. The towers at the corners of its outer walls were taller than most other buildings in the city, and the actual building within the walls reached even higher, all of the corners topped with golden metal plating combined with intricate metalwork frames. The front entrance’s portcullis was lifted and open - presumably for common folk to visit as the royal family held court - and flags with the emblems and crests of every major city in the kingdom blew gently in the light wind that had been lilting through the capital city all afternoon.

The chamberlain gestured for the party to step into the courtyard, and they did as instructed, most of them still staring up at the towering walls and the front spire of the castle, proudly flying the flag of the kingdom of Toris.

The sun was high in the sky. And somehow, this felt like it was going to be more of an undertaking than just investigating a disappearance.

#this is probably gonna be formatted weird because mobile #but i wanted it done! so!#the radiant sun #its happening yall...#dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d ocs #d&d 5e character #no knowledge of dnd is required because ive changed all the official terms so this can be uploaded as fully original #but it sure started as dnd!

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arotechno · 4 years ago

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Jughead (2015), Issues 1-6: Discussion and Commentary

"I am like unto a god, Archie Andrews. Respect me as such."

Recently re-typed and ready to go, here is a broad discussion of the first volume of the Jughead reboot comic series. I was originally going to review each issue individually, but given that the first six comprise one story arc, I decided to do the whole volume in one go. That means this is a bit crunched for time and therefore not quite as in-depth as I wanted to go! But I encourage you to read the comics for yourself, if you are able.

This will not be spoiler-free, for the record! The images here are taken from my own copy using my phone, so they're not the best quality! But they also aren't especially crucial to this commentary, so you'll have to bear with me.

I just really like the inside cover art for this volume, alright (it's also the cover of issue 5)? I can't help it, I'm aro, I see heart imagery and something in my brain goes haywire.

When we first meet Jughead at the beginning of Volume 1, he comes off as lazy and apathetic, at least on the surface. After an all-nighter of playing video games, Jughead is dragged to school by Archie. There, they find that Betty has started a new campaign to save Fox Forest, a beloved local greenspace that is being threatened by Veronica’s wealthy father, Mr. Lodge. Jughead is… not very interested in Betty’s cause, to put it politely. It’s not that he doesn’t care about Fox Forest, but he does not believe that Mr. Lodge would be convinced to change his mind by a petition. He tells Betty as such, and she remarks that he lives a very hollow life.

“Man, you’re so cynical,” Archie tells him. “Is there anything you’d actually fight for?”

The answer is yes. What ultimately gets Jughead to fight for something? Food—well, kind of, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

When Archie and Jughead get to class, they learn that the principal of Riverdale High, Mr. Weatherbee, is being replaced out of the blue by a new guy called Stanger. Stanger is a stiff, serious type, and he immediately starts making changes: new uptight teachers, a strict dress code, new bootcamp-esque curriculum, and most importantly, supposedly nutritious slop to replace the food in the cafeteria.

This sends Jughead down a bit of a rebellious path—he’s not a rule-breaker, but he’s perfectly comfortable with bending the rules in his favor while narrowly skirting around getting into trouble. He starts selling burgers in the cafeteria, with the proceeds benefitting Betty’s fundraiser for Fox Forest.

(Hell yeah, Jughead, unionize that student body! Sell those burgers! You have nothing to lose but your chains!)

This stunt gets Jughead on Stanger’s bad side immediately, and a slowly simmering feud between them ultimately boils over when Stanger plants a knife in Jughead’s backpack to get him expelled. Thankfully, his dad is able to talk his sentence down to a week’s suspension, but that doesn’t stop his friends (and his mother) from worrying about him.

As an aside, I’d like to take a moment to appreciate Mr. Jones.

“Something’s off here and I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure Jughead didn’t bring a knife to school. My boy’s weird, but he’s not a criminal.”

I really like this line from him to Betty. He clearly knows his son and is willing to stand up for him, and it’s comforting to me, especially viewing the story through the lens of Jughead being aroace, that Mr. Jones is not at all bothered by his son being a bit on the strange side, as long as he’s still a good kid. Nothing but respect for Forsythe Jones II in this house.

Something fun and unique about this volume in particular is that in every issue, Jughead either falls asleep or passes out, and has an elaborate imaginative dream about the events of the story. In one he’s a pirate, for example, and in another he’s visited by a descendant of Archie’s from the future, who belongs to the time police. But towards the end of the volume, the line between these daydreams and reality seem to blur for Jughead. He comes to the conclusion in one particular nightmare that Stanger is trying to brainwash them all into becoming mindless agents for his evil organization—and then he realizes he may not be that far off from the truth.

Jughead brings this realization—that Stanger is using the school as a sort of training ground for secret agents—up to his friends, and understandably, they aren’t convinced. They worry that the compounded exhaustion of multiple all-nighters playing games and the stress of being suspended has started to get to Jughead, but he vows to prove it to them.

I mean, damn, Betty, that kind of hurts. (Don’t worry, Betty is actually a good friend, as I’m sure we’ll get into later in the series.)

To make a long story short (and to avoid spoiling the entire plot for those who haven’t read it!), Jughead does find proof, and once he does, his friends are immediately on board. They are ultimately able to save the day, and once it’s revealed that Stanger and the new teachers are ex-CIA trying to brainwash the students (no, seriously), Mr. Weatherbee is re-instated as principal and things return to normal.

I’m leaving out a lot of nuanced details, mostly for the sake of time, but there are a lot of surprisingly weighty moments to this first arc, and Zdarsky’s character writing is incredibly endearing and funny, while still hitting the serious moments when it needs to. There’s an interesting underlying commentary in this arc about military recruitment and U.S. propaganda; Stanger says that he specifically chose Riverdale because the students are so average. There’s something to be said here about the way the military industrial complex preys on average or underprivileged teenagers to convince them to serve when they feel they have no better path to take. It’s an almost funnily serious commentary for Zdarsky to make with a seemingly silly and off-beat comic series, and I respect him for that.

(If you recognize this panel, it’s because it appears on the page where Jughead’s asexuality is canonized. What a good page. So good that nobody ever points out this panel.)

By the end of Volume 1, we see that Jughead maybe isn’t as apathetic and careless as he seemed to be. Sure, he got up in arms about food of all things in the beginning, but it stopped being about food very quickly, once he realized that something truly messed up was going on. And it bothers him, deeply—at one point, the gravity of the situation begins to weigh on him so heavily that he nearly gives up entirely, convinced that there is nothing they can do and that they ought to just lie low until they make it out. But he does end up making things right, with the help of his friends, and in the end, he does decide to help Betty out after all. It’s the least he can do, really. You do get the impression that although Jughead’s friends often don’t take him seriously, they’ll always have his back when it counts—and he’ll do the same for them, even if he’ll insist on being a bit snarky about it.

(That slightly cynical attitude is still there, though, and truthfully, Jughead wouldn’t be the same without it.)

To close out, I am just going to share some of my favorite panels/quotes that didn’t fit elsewhere, including some choice Aro Moods. I hope this (admittedly brief) discussion of Volume 1 convinces you to read the comics, and to join me again when I cover the next arc. Until then, cheers to Chip and Erica.

Jughead’s attitude towards Archie’s romantic problems will never not be funny to me. He’s just like “RIP to you but I’m different.”

Kevin. :/ Kevin come on, man. Mr. Zdarsky, sir, this is character assassination. (Jughead’s face in the corner is a reasonable reaction.)

This one’s gone around so many times before (as have a bunch of other aro moments that I don’t think I need to bother re-posting here), but I just think it’s neat. Don’t worry, Betty lets go.

Aaand lastly, I just really like this line from Jughead. “The world is out of our hands, pal. You just gotta make your own weird way in it.” That we do, Jughead. That we do.

#my god the pain i went through to write this #aro #aromantic #aro jughead #ace jughead #aroace jughead #long post #jughead jones #ooohhh i'm gonna make shitterdale stans sooo angry #jughead comics #techno's jughead reread #<- tag for this little series #op

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wangxianficrecs · 4 years ago

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Follower Recs

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Hi! First of all, thank you so much for running this blog, It's become one of three reasons why I haven't yet committed arson (I jest but the Feeling is true). [Hee, hee, hee.] I have a rec for you! It's called "wholesome life usurp immediately" by comfect on ao3 and it's. So good. It's unfinished but the author updates it literally every other day if not faster! It's a lovely fic, I hope you enjoy it. 🌻

Wholesome Life Usurp Immediately

by Comfect (T, 55k, yunmeng sibs, qingli, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: Wen Qing examines Jiang Yanli at Cloud Recesses and has a cure for her poor cultivation.

Now there are Three Prides of Yunmeng.

Everything kind of fixes itself from there.

~*~

hello mojo!! I would really like to recommend standing still (but we keep going) by lwjromantics!! it's really good!!

standing still (but we keep going)

by lwjromantics (justfantaestic) (T, 5k, wangxian)

Summary: Lan Wangji supposed that if having to take care of little A-Yuan and Mo Xuanyu and having to look at the reminders of Wei Ying in their habits and mannerisms was punishment for his actions, he would willingly take it and flay his own back open.

— There are children in the Burial Mounds.

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hii mojo! I just read this cute fic and I loved it so I wanted to rec it :)

Word Up, Talk the Talk

by Larryissocute (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary: It wouldn’t have been a problem (it really wouldn’t) if they weren’t best friends. Wei Wuxian doesn’t know what good deeds he did in his past life to be blessed with Lan Wangji as a friend nor does he know what evil things he did to be cursed with being only a friend to Lan Wangji.

Or the one where Wei Wuxian kisses Lan Wangji and then runs away.

~*~

Hey! Love your account — and proud of you for taking the hiatus you needed. [Lol - it was really nice!] Idk if you take fic recommendations, but I'd love to rec Roots by ardenrabbit. Fantastic characterization, I really love it!

Roots

by ardenrabbit (E, 46k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: After Wei Wuxian's duel with Jiang Cheng, he finds that stab wounds aren't so trivial when he doesn't have a core to heal them. He wakes to find Lan Zhan in the Burial Mounds with him, already beloved by the Wens and making himself at home. When Lan Zhan tells him that he wants to stay and offers more help than Wei Wuxian knows how to accept, he fears that it's only too good to be true.

Lan Wangji knows that Wei Ying is doing the right thing, and he couldn't live with himself if he let him do it alone. For everything Wei Ying has sacrificed, Lan Wangji is determined to give something back to him.

Hanguang-Jun has turned his back on the clans to join the Yiling Wens and their demonic cultivator leader, and every clan has a different opinion on the matter.

~*~

Hello! I wanted to rec a fic on ao3 called "Restoration" by jelenedra. It's complete, an alternate universe of the sunshot campaign told nonlinearly. It has strong fairy tale and fae elements, with a touch of mystery. Bit of a fix it. Some delightful one liners, and the final ending imagery is just LOVELY. The fic deserves much more love. There's also some YilingWei, wwx not raised by Jiang, and sentient Burial Mounds elements. Enchanting read that keeps you enthralled and curious and intrigued.

Restoration

by jelenedra (M, 85k, wangxian)

Summary: They say he was thrown into Luanzang Gang by the man who killed his parents; they say that he is an immortal cultivator who had been in a deep trance until the Wen sect disturbed his rest and incurred his wrath; they say that he is the fierce corpse of a cultivator who had somehow regained his mind and his spiritual powers.

When Lan Wangji sees him for the first time, he understands why people talk.

Meng Yao wants safety. Xue Yang wants vengeance. The Sunshot Campaign wants victory. Yiling Laozu provides, for a price.

~*~

I usually read all your recommendations. Thanks for gathering all good recs of wangxian. I am in love with every single story your recommend especially the favorites. [I’m so glad!] I just wanted to suggest a fic i came across while searching for phoenix!wwx. Its a new story I think as author has published it today. The first chapter was very interesting that i thought ill recommend it you and know your opinion. The legendary phoenix and his dragon -Devipriya and Hidden Path to Love by ShadowTenshiV

Hidden Path to Love

by ShadowTenshiV (G, 78k, wangxian)

Summary: Wei Ying is a servant working at the Gusu Lan castle. One day he enters through a secret passage way connected to the library where he meets a Lan for the first time. He may have left quite an impression, gaining the other´s attention and slowly becoming friends. They would like to become something more, but a servant can´t be with a prince, but maybe his secret can change that.

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hello mojo! i was wondering if I could make a fic rec? it’s called “and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow” by izanyas. it used to be on ao3 but the author has since moved it to eir own website and has started posting updates there. i was wondering if this could also act as a signal boost bc some old readers on ao3 might not have known that it is now on another website. Author's been through a tough time so I think it deserves a lot more love.

For new readers, please mind the warnings in the prologue and the beginning of each chapter! it’s omegaverse and a very heavy read as it deals with (possible spoiler) off-screen rape that results in an unwanted pregnancy, as well as secondary gender oppression which runs deep, but for people who can bear it the writing, worldbuilding, and emotions are truly spectacular.

and the calm is deep where the quiet waters flow

by izanyas (E, 270k, wangxian, WIP, link is to WordPress rather than AO3)

Summary: Cangse Sanren was the first of her kind to become a cultivator. Talented, passionate, free-spirited, she bested everything that ever came her way until the very end.

Jiang Fengmian refuses to see her son deprived of that same freedom.

~*~

Hello Mojo! I dunno if this's been recced before, but here's another ficrec for you? It's complete, on ao3, "The Third Young Master of Qishan Wen" by KouriArashi. It's 'if wwx was raised by dafan wen, but gets recognized as 3rd heir due to his skill' scenario. Some really nice banter and characterization. Wwx and lz get together before the sunshot campaign. Story follows the live action but diverges into au, and does some cool callbacks to original canon. Love Meng Yao in this! [Oh, I know KouriArashi from my last fandom, I love her works!]

❤️The Third Young Master of the Qishan Wen

by KouriArashi (T, 139k, wangxian, my post)

Summary: The fic where Wei Wuxian is adopted by the Dafan Mountain Wens instead of the Yunmeng Jiang.

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Hi Mojo! I can count the number of times I’ve spoken on Tumblr on one hand (I’m shy heh) but I found this fic that I think you and others would really like? I’m a sucker for emotional hurt/comfort and this was just too sweet for me not to share (did I go through 20 pages of bookmarks just to make sure you don’t already have it? Maybe …) [Aww, you can do a sidebar search in the bookmarks for the author’s name. But I hope you found other good fics by carding through the whole catalog!] It’s “Close Your Soft Eyes” by timetoboldlygo! I also wanna say thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog! It’s a treasure beyond compare. :D [Thank you so much!]

Close Your Soft Eyes

by timetoboldlygo (G, 12k, wangxian)

Summary: When Lan Wangji woke, the first thing he noticed was the slip of paper, folded and tucked between his index and middle fingers, not Wei Wuxian’s absence. His fingers trembled as he unfurled the paper. A donkey with a little smile beamed down at him.

On the nights that Wei Wuxian was gone, Lan Wangji woke to gifts on his pillow.

~*~

Hey Mojo! I love your blog it is beyond awesome! [Thank you!] I was wondering if you would consider reading JaenysBloodcourt series "A Bond to Takes us home"? The summary is weird but I like the fics and would love to hear your opinion on LWJ POV (it's part 2). Part one is Mingxian but part two (Wangxian) reads as a standalone for the most part. Anyways, thank you for all your hard work! <3 [I’ll put it on my list!]

A Bond to Take Us Home

by JaenysBloodcourt (T, 10k, mingxian - nmj/wwx, wangxian, series in progress)

Summary: Wei Wuxian has two soulmarks. He has two soulmates that seem to be the opposite of him. During his first life he meets both of them, loves only one and longs for the other. In his second life, the one he loved first is dead, and the one he pined after is pining after him.

These are the many tales of his soulmates and the raucous they made across the cultivation world.

Some are dark, some are light. Beware.

~*~

I forgot to send this in for Mother's Day a few weeks ago, but have you read dragongirlG's "into the light of a dark black night"? It's a short canon divergence where Mama Lan escapes the Cloud Recesses after spending one last, heartbreaking night with her sons. It's so beautiful and bittersweet! [Oh, ouch. I just read this author’s time travelling juniors au, but hadn’t seen this one.]

into the light of a dark black night

by dragongirlG (T, 3k, Madam Lan & sons)

Summary: The night that Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, plans to escape from the Cloud Recesses, she runs into an unexpected complication.

That complication comes in the form of her younger son A-Zhan running up to her door and kneeling in front of it, hushed whimpers escaping from his throat.

Wu Yuhua knows it's not the full moon, knows that it's not the one day a month she's allowed to see her children—but like hell is she going to leave her six-year-old son out there trying to stifle sobs in the snow.

She opens the door. "A-Zhan," she says, bending down and reaching out a hand. "Come in, my sweet boy."

On a snowy night in the dead of winter, Wu Yuhua, formerly known as Madam Lan, unexpectedly spends one last night with her sons before escaping from the Cloud Recesses.

~*~

Hello queen I’d like to recommend for ur follower rec posts Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender by KouriArashi. Banger of an ATLA au, def the best one I’ve seen. It’s a WIP but the author updates pretty regularly and it’s all around an A+ fic [Oh, yes, I’ve been waiting for this one to finish before I jump in.]

Avatar: The Untamed Waterbender

by KouriArashi (T, 123k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary: You know the drill. Long ago, the four nations lived in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.

100 years later, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli find Wei Wuxian sealed in an iceberg.

Featuring: avatar WWX, waterbending JC, firebending Wens, airbending Lans, earthbending Nies and Jins, Jiang Yanli in possession of the brain cell, et cetera.

~*~

[My ko-fi.]

#follower rec #wangxian fic rec #I HAVEN'T READ THESE YET #wangxian #mdzs #follower recs

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 4 years ago

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Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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hiccanna-tidbits · 4 years ago

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Autistic Hiccup x ADHD Anna Headcanons

SO I’ve been really into the whole Autistic x ADHD ship dynamic and Hiccanna...highkey fits??? Like y’all know I will die on my “Anna has ADHD” hill, but after reading this post by @hobie-brown I’m like wait, the autistic Hiccup headcanon is wonderful too??? And blends SO WELL with ADHD Anna??? And I absolutely HAD to explore it more so BOOM headcanon time! Another special thanks to @hobie-brown for writing the super lovely autistic Hiccup headcanon masterpost that inspired me to do this!

Disclaimer: I myself am not on the spectrum (part of the reason I’ve always felt a little weird about definitively HCing characters as autistic unless I see actual autistic people HC them that way too), so most of the stuff here is stuff I know secondhand from my autistic friends! I do have ADHD, so I can always promise that ADHD Anna will be 100% authentic XD

~Anna absolutely gets into Hiccup’s special interests to try and impress him. The most obvious one being, of course, dragons, but also dinosaurs (extinct dragons), lizards (tiny dragons), and Dungeons and Dragons (An RPG game that does, in fact, include dragons). Hiccup absolutely had that dragonology book as a kid and got obsessed with it beyond all reasonability. Hilariously, Anna’s wooing strategy of indulging his special interests works like a charm--mainly because a) he’s pretty flattered that someone takes THAT much of an interest in what he likes and b) half the time, ANNA finds that she genuinely gets into whatever said special interest is and finds them easy to hyperfixate on. It helps that the more she obsesses over it herself, the more she has to talk to Hiccup about XD

~Specifically, Anna definitely joins a DnD campaign at some point so that Hiccup will think she’s a “cool gamer girl”--and then gets unironically obsessed with it and starts writing 10-page backstories for all of her characters. She later tells Hiccup it started out as a ruse to win his heart via nerdiness, and he absolutely loses his shit laughing.

~One of their overlapping special interests/hyperfixations is high fantasy. Hiccup is, unsurprisingly, all about the mythical creatures while Anna is more into the magic and the zesty political drama, but you dun best believe they catch every CGI-ridden fantasy movie that ever comes out. They’ve both spent a literal fortune on fantasy movie tickets, even moreso on watching them in 3D or Imax. How embarrassing for both of them.

~Another less-obvious overlapping interest is history. Hiccup gets into it while looking into the cultural mythos of dragons (he’s pretty fascinated by the fact that so many cultures around the world thought up similar creatures independently), while Anna gets into it because she grew up cooped up bored and lonely in a big house, and entertained herself by looking into the history behind some of the family paintings. They don’t seem it at first, but they’re actually both huge medieval and ancient civilization history buffs.

~Hiccup is THE most touch-repulsed person you will ever meet. This is unfortunate, as he is also SUPER touch-starved and absolutely does not realize it (I mean, I’ve never gotten the vibe Stoic was the super huggy type, considering his and Hicc’s relationship in HTTYD 1). This means he has absolutely no fucking clue what to make of Anna when they first meet meet. Anna’s the sort of person to give physical affection pretty freely, especially if she likes you--usually in the form of hugs, arm pats or playful swats, putting her elbow on your shoulder, etc etc. Hiccup is kinda just like “this is way too much touching but like??? I kinda like having her this close to me??? What do???”

~Anna, meanwhile, notices that Hiccup kinda stiffens up whenever she touches him and seems to not be crazy about it and she’s just immediately like “yo what’s wrong???” And as SOON as he admits he’s not all that crazy about being touched randomly she’s like “OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY” and never touches him without asking again.

~As soon as she finds out touch a kind of A Whole Thing for him, Anna is like...AGGRESSIVELY respectful of Hiccup’s boundaries when it comes to physical affection. Almost annoyingly so. She gets in the habit of basically never initiating any kind of physical touch without asking first--even long after they’ve started dating, and he’s told her it’s okay to initiate touching as long as she’s not smothery about it. She still refuses out of principle.

~They come up with a kind of “consent language” so Anna can pretty quickly determine when it’s all right to touch Hiccup--because Anna still really likes being physically affectionate with him, and he does actually like receiving physical affection a lot of the time (because, again, touch-starved), he’s just choosy about who does it. They work out a system based off of small, light touches that Hiccup doesn’t mind where it’s basically 2 taps on his shoulder for “can I hug you around the neck,” 2 taps on his side for “can I hug you around the waist,” 2 taps on his arm for “can I grab/lightly slap/punch your arm,” and 1 tap on is shoulder for “can I put my arm/elbow on your shoulder.” If he’s cool with it he’ll either nod or just say “yeah go ahead.” It works a lot quicker than asking “can I do such-and-such specific touch” every single time, and allows Anna to keep some of her spontaneity. They develop this during their friendship and it ends up rolling over into their relationship, even after Hiccup has basically told her she doesn’t need to ask permission for a lot of these anymore. She adds a new one after they start dating--she taps him a couple times wherever she wants to kiss him to ask if it’s cool to give him a smooch! It usually is.

~INFODUMPING. Literally SO. MUCH. INFODUMPING. Hiccup absolutely WILL NOT SHUT UP when he gets to talking about one of his special interests. Anna just will not shut up in general, but when the topic changes to one of her hyperfixations, it’s even worse. If you try to have a conversation with these two while they’re infodumping, you WILL get talked over. Honestly, left to their own devices, they could probably infodump to each other for literal days on end.

~Despite how much they both like to infodump, they’re both pretty good about being patient and indulging the other when it’s their partner’s turn to infodump in the conversation XD They are, however, notorious about accidentally triggering a barely-related infodump in the other person. It’s not uncommon for one of them to finish a rant and then the other goes “OH THAT REMINDS ME” and sets off on a completely different, barely-related rant.

~Hiccup actually really appreciates how overexpressive--and occasionally overdramatic--Anna tends to be. He never has to try and figure out what she’s thinking because she just says everything in her brain, and her body language basically always matches how she’s feeling to a ridiculous extent, so he never has to give himself a headache trying to read her. The fact that she’s the opposite of subtle and has no filter whatsoever works great for him, because he doesn’t have to drive himself insane trying to understand her. He gets her better than he gets most people because she’s an open goddamn book. The boy’s never been the best with social cues at all, never mind the nuanced, obscure ones, so Anna’s general straightforwardness and utter inability to hide her true feelings at literally any time is a breath of fresh air. What you see is basically what you get, and Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.

~People think when Anna and Hiccup start dating it’s gonna be a disaster, mainly because he’s so blunt and she can be...”oversensitive” (i.e. has a REALLY bad case of RSD). Turns out they’re dead wrong--because Hiccup has RSD too! (I mean, come ON--look how BADLY he wants to get his village’s approval! And how hard he takes it when his dad or someone else is mad at him--even if he tries to hide it with snark) He’s actually one of the few people who can be blunt enough with Anna that she realizes when she’s being a dumbass but tactful enough not to hurt her feelings or set off her RSD--because god, has he been there. When Anna is being especially difficult and has worked herself into a real bad funk, Hiccup (and sometimes Elsa) is the only people who can talk to her and get through to her without getting blown up at.

~They stim in similar ways!!! They both tend to fidget or kinda bounce up in down in place as a way to comfort themselves and calm themselves down (I see them both having a lot of anxiety and generally being kind of paranoid, although Anna is MUCH better at hiding this via putting on a cheerful face). They both do the leg bounce!!! Also if they get SUPER excited they’ll do a little awkward happy dance!!! They both also tend to stim by rubbing things in small, repetitive motions--with Hiccup, it’s usually his sketching pens, his ear, his head, or the back of his neck, while with Anna, it’s usually her other hand, her arm, her clothes, or really anything with kind of a comforting, consistent texture (some favorites are rubber, felt, and velvet). After they start dating, they actually will stim with each other’s hands while holding hands--usually by squeezing the other person’s hand in kind of a repetitive pattern or doing the thumb-rub thing on the back of the other person’s hand. It’s not uncommon for them to each be doing something completely unrelated while holding hands and just stimming on each other’s hands the entire time. Anna especially really loves when she feels Hiccup stimming on her, because it’s her little indicator that he’s happy and feels at peace and content in her presence and she LOVES being able to do that for him!

~They both stim by playing with hair too! Anna likes to play with her own to stim--mainly by figeting with the end of her braids or tucking hair behind her ear. She DOES love to ruffle Hiccup’s hair too (and she LOVES how fluffy it is!), but it’s usually not a stim thing. After they start dating, Anna does occasionally stim by massaging Hiccup’s hair/scalp, but she doesn’t usually do it for very long. Hiccup really loves braiding Anna’s hair, or just playing with it when it’s down. it helps him relax and clear his mind to have something fairly repetitive and/or mindless to do.

~Even after gaining some confidence, Hiccup still has a fair bit of social anxiety, so he and Anna basically always go to parties and social events together and stick with each other the whole time to make it less intimidating for him. Hiccup generally prefers to let Anna do the talking when they chat with people, and sometimes if he’s REALLY nervous he’ll sometimes even let her kinda talk for him (not in a condescending “speaking over” kinda way, but more in like a “I can sense you’re not comfortable speaking here so I’ll help you out as best I can” kinda way). She always makes sure to leave space in the conversation for him to take over talking if he wants. She’s also incredibly prone to bragging about his accomplishments to basically everyone they know. Hiccup is both embarrassed and flattered by this.

~When Anna finds out about meltdowns (probably through Hiccup mentioning it kind of offhandedly--“Eh, sorry I went AWOL last night, I was having a bit of a meltdown. Don’t worry about it, I’m fine now.”) she lowkey gets super anxious and frustrated because she REALLY wants to help, but has no idea how. Cue literal HOURS of research on the internet and AGGRESSIVE memorizing of any and all tips that she reads that she thinks would help. Which, of course, means several MORE hours spent going over flashcards like she’s studying for a goddamn test, because Anna has never been known for her sharp, expansive memory.

~The first time Hiccup ever has a meltdown in front of her (maybe after a really bad phone fight with his dad or something? Just general sensory overload?), she takes him to a secluded room and IMMEDIATELY gets rid of anything that could be agitating sensory-wise. She dims the lights! She closes the blinds! She throws a nearby clock, an alarm, a timer, and several other objects with only the slightest potential of making an annoying noise out of a nearby window in a fit of passion! She goes on a frenzied quest to find Hiccup’s noise-cancelling headphones--and finishes it in record time! Even in a state of emotional turmoil, Hiccup realizes that Anna’s being just a little too methodical in how she goes about all this--these are the kind of things that wouldn’t ever occur naturally to her to do. So as soon as he calms down a bit and has screamed into a pillow for a while, he’s like “...did you go on the internet to look up how to help with meltdowns?” and Anna’s like “...yes?” And Hiccup is lowkey so touched he starts crying all over again...and then, naturally, makes a long string of snarky comments to try and distract from it XD

~For their anniversary Anna saves up a bunch and buys Hiccup a lizard and a terrarium!!! She gets him a crocodile skink because, I quote, “Well, they always look annoyed, they’re kinda shy, they don’t like to be touched, and they look like tiny dragons, so they reminded me of you!!!” Hiccup screams like a goddamn fangirl, he’s SO excited. As luck would have it, Hiccup’s crocodile skink is a lot less skittish and prone to hiding than they usually are, and he actually lets Hiccup pick him up and pet him without much issue. Which is honestly great, because repeatedly touching something smooth and even like lizard scales helps calm Hiccup down when he’s agitated and helps with some of his sensory issues.

~Probably goes without saying, but Hiccup basically NEVER genuinely gives Anna a hard time about her memory problems or how she’s not always the quickest on the uptake, and if anyone tries to call her annoying, dumb, or immature he will absolutely roast them into oblivion. He does sometimes like...lightly tease her about jumping into things without thinking or never shutting up, but he never pushes it if he can tell she’s genuinely bothered by it (and, again, Anna is very easy to read, so it’s not hard to tell XD)

~I’ve seen other people in the fandom HC either Hiccup, Anna, or both of them as BOTH autistic and ADHD, and honestly...fuck yes!!! I’m down for this too! I love the idea of these two disaster ND kids just vibing with each other on so many damn levels that it’s like...incomprehensible to the average human XD Like man, they fuckin GET each other!!! I’m pretty happy with most combinations of ADHD + Autistic headcanons for Anna and Hiccup, so long as they end up vibing!!!

~THEY JUST. THEY LOVE EACH OTHER. SO MUCH. THEY LITERALLY WOULD DIE FOR EACH OTHER. I AM SURE OF IT. I’M CRYING.

#hiccanna #hiccup x anna #anna x hiccup #hiccup #anna #hiccupxanna #annaxhiccup #autistic hiccup #adhd anna #headcanons #hcs #httyd #frozen #crossover #rotbtd #rotbtfd #hiccup haddock #princess anna

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sorry-apsalar · 4 years ago

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Frender Week Day Three: Jealousy

I picked this prompt because they're both the jealous type and I wanted an excuse to write Fry being the jealous one for once. Initially it was gonna be a direct tie in with my 'Friends With Benefits' drabble and the conversation Fry and Leela have would've ended with them breaking up because she'd never liked him like that anyway. And then at the end with Bender, Fry would be like 'well we're both single now, wanna go out?' But writing Leela and Fry in a romantic relationship, even for a little bit made me unhappy so I changed the circumstances to this instead.

Bender spoke fairly often about hating humans and wanting to kill them all. Fry had never taken it seriously because had proven many times that if nothing else there were at least humans he made exceptions for, Fry being his best friend was one of them. But one thing Fry had always assumed, or would’ve if he’d ever given the matter any thought, was that Bender would never be interested in dating a human.

That was exactlywhat he was doing though. And… he was happy, very much so supposedly. He seemed enthused by Amy and she with him. Fry had gone out of his way to show nothing but support for them, what kind of jerk would he be if he hadn’t? But… he hated it. He hated seeing them together so much that the temptation to try to break them up was hard to resist at times.

Seeing Bender dating other people had kind of bothered him for a while now. But it had mostly been other robots and none of those relationships had ever lasted long. And Bender had never been so enthusiastic about any of them the way he was with Amy. It was unlike Bender to even be like that, right? He just wasn’t the type. … Fry was just making excuses, huh? There was no logic behind why he hated seeing them together so much and thus he was just searching for a reason to justify his dislike for it when he should be nothing but happy for them.

It ate him up inside, especially since it meant Bender forsook their usual evenings spent watching TV together to go to Amy’s place instead. Even when they were at work Bender chose to spend most of his time with Amy. Eventually Fry just couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he had to tell someone.

“So you’re jealous,” Leela said matter-of-factly as soon as Fry had finished spilling his guts to her. Maybe while working wasn’t the best time for such a conversation but Bender declining to go on the delivery mission with them to spend time with Amy instead had been the last straw. Fry should’ve been happy to take such an opportunity to try to impress Leela again but was far too preoccupied with Bender to do so – which was probably for the best since it probably wouldn’t have worked anyway, nothing ever seemed to.

“No, why would I be… well, okay I guess maybe I might be a little jealous.” More like a lot. “But he’s supposed to be my best friend and he’s not spending much time with me anymore. And when we are hanging out, Amy’s always there too and I swear it’s like they’re going out of their way to rub it in my face. And I just… I just want to hang out with him again like we used to.”

“Have you tried talking to him about this?”

“No. How could I? He’s my best friend and Amy’s also my friend, and I want them to be happy, you know?” Just not while dating each other. Did thinking that make Fry a bad friend? Probably at least a little, right? But… he just wanted to hang out with Bender, just the two of them, like they’d done before all this started.

Leela didn’t even look at him. “I think you should try talking to him about it.”

“But…”

“No ‘but’s. When you get a chance to, talk to him about both this and about your feelings for him. Lord knows you’ve never had any issue telling me how you feel about me, why should he be any different? Especially since he has a far better chance of actually feeling the same way. And then if you two get together you can finally stop asking me out every other Friday.”

“I don’t ask you out every other Friday.” He’d gotten a lot better about that even if he hadn’t given up on winning her yet. “And what did you mean by…” He cut off as the full meaning of her words hit him. He took a breath to voice a protest, say he didn’t like Bender like that, they were just friends. But… he’d be lying if he tried to say he never thought about Bender like that. He’d never seriously considered it though because Bender was always ready to say he hated humans. An obvious lie given who he liked to hang out with but one that would make any logical person think that he wouldn’t want to date one. But that was apparently not a thing. So really it was Bender’s fault and Fry was officially annoyed with him over it. Also… “He’s dating Amy so I can’t talk to him about that stuff.”

“For now, yeah. I doubt it’ll last for much longer.”

“I don’t know about that. They seem pretty happy together.” Fry would know, they liked to talk about how happy they were together around him all the time. It’s almost like they wanted to make him jealous.

Leela shrugged. “I guess we’ll see once they finish up the last of the Proposition Infinity business. Now get ready go, we’re almost there. The Professor said this package is going to someone important and potentially dangerous so we should handle it with care.”

Fry groaned but at least work would provide a distraction from thoughts about what Bender and Amy might be doing together right now. They were probably on a date or kissing or maybe even having sex. Ugh! How exactly did robots even have sex? … He was going to have to google later.

***

“I’m bored and it’s not working so we should break up,” Bender said as soon as he and Amy were alone in her apartment.

“We should finish making sure Proposition Infinity passes first though,” she replied as she settled on her bed. “We’re kind of like the heads of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. As soon as it passes though we’re through.” Even if they had ended up entangled in campaigning for it on accident it was still a good cause and would result in Bender being famous so it was definitely worth it. Keeping up the pretense of being happy with Amy grew increasingly more annoying every day though.

“That’s fine with me. But uh, we don’t know if this whole thing failed entirely. Fry could be jealous and just hiding it because he wants to be a good friend. I mean you’re jealous of how into Leela he is and you don’t show it often because they’re your friends and you want them to be happy.”

She had a point but… “I doubt it. He’s only ever really had eyes for Leela.” The fact that Leela clearly wasn’t into him was fitting because that was exactly what Bender was going through too. The best he’d been able to get out of Fry with this scheme was annoying him enough to make him leave the room by being overly lovey-dovey with Amy. Which was fun, especially since it had annoyed everyone else too but it wasn’t enough and even that was starting to get boring.

“Hmmm… maybe. But do you think Kif will really take me back after you dump me?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care.”

Amy sighed. “Yeah, I know you don’t because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

“I’m glad were on the same page.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just hurry up and get the rest of this Proposition Infinity business done so we can finally breakup and be done with this dumb act.”

*Some days later*

“You uh… dropped Amy really fast,” Fry finally said as they strode into the apartment. He’d been dying to bring it up for hours and couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that Leela had been right about Bender and Amy breaking up soon wasn’t surprising because she was right about most things, it’s part of why Fry liked her so much. But the timing of the breakup and just how sudden it had been was still strange.

“Yep,” Bender replied nonchalantly as he settled on the couch and switched on the TV. “I was getting bored of her.”

Fry joined him on the couch, happy their evenings watching TV had been restored. But he wasn’t ready to drop it yet so… “You didn’t seem like you were getting bored of her.” If anything, it had seemed the opposite right up until he’d dumped her.

“Well, I was.”

“And you dumped her because she wanted a monogamous relationship?” It just didn’t make sense because they’d seemed pretty monogamous the whole time they’d been dating, why would that suddenly be a problem?

Bender shrugged. “I guess. I was mostly just looking for a reason to dump her. Now shut up about it, it’s not important.” He was annoyed but seemingly mostly at Fry for asking so many questions and not all that bothered by the actual breakup.

Well as weird as the whole situation was, he was no longer dating Amy and that was a good thing as far as Fry was concerned. And if he wasn’t upset about it then maybe… it was time to take Leela’s advice? She’d never steered him wrong before and the past few days he’d had plenty of time to think about it. He hadn’t really decided anything so maybe he shouldn’t say anything? Or maybe he should? Before Bender ran off and started dating someone else who he might not get bored of, thus killing Fry’s chances permanently. What though and how? Words really weren’t Fry’s strong suit. Well, no sense beating around the bush, right?

“Now that you’re single again you want to maybe go out on a date with me sometime?”

Bender froze for a few seconds before turning to look at Fry. “Are you really asking me out?”

“Uh… yeah. It’s fine if you don’t…”

“What brought this on? You’ve never showed any interest in me like that before so why are you suddenly asking me out now?”

“Well uh…” Blushing, Fry looked away. “I got kind of jealous about you dating Amy and spending so much time with her. It made me realize some things. Or more like talking to Leela about it made me realize why exactly I was so jealous and stuff. It’s fine if you say ‘no’, I’m pretty used to getting turned down and stuff so you don’t have to worry about hurting my uh…” He trailed off at Bender’s borderline evil chuckle. He seemed very satisfied by something, what though?

“Nah, I’m not saying ‘no’. We’re going on a date uh… how about tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yeah, tomorrow afternoon works for me.”

“It’s a date then.”

“All right uh… cool.” Fry wasn’t one to question luck or good fortune even if it was strange. “That’s the easiest I’ve ever had convincing someone to go on a date with me.”

Bender put and arm around Fry, pulling him closer to his side. “Don’t question it.”

#my writing #futurama #frender #frender week

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vindicatedvirgil · 4 years ago

Text

in the library / logicality

for those of you who don’t know, i’m in a master’s degree program studying to become a librarian right now. so, yeah, i spend (or, you know, spent, before coronavirus) a lot of time working in public libraries and learning about libraries and studying.

so, here, a logicality human au. Patton is a Children’s Librarian and Logan brings his two sons, Roman and Remus, into the library. wanna know more about librarianship and how it’s actually a really hard thing to do? i’m always happy to answer questions. i am so Patton here.

includes: dad!Logan, eventual logicality, adopted kid!Remus and kid!Roman trying to get the two together, lots of fluff so please prepare your hearts

wordcount: 5133

(masterlist)

Patton looked down cheerfully at the child he was helping. His biggest joy in life came from helping young kiddos find their perfect book; whether it’s because they’ve read all of the popular stuff and need something new or if they are reluctant readers who need something to pull them in to reading as a hobby, Mister Patton always has something for them. And when he wasn’t doing reader’s advisory, he was trying his darndest to diversify their collection, run storytimes for the littles, and set up a book club for those almost-teens. Sure, most days he went home completely exhausted, feet aching in his sneakers, a dull headache poking at the back of his eyes, but it was all worth it. Even on the days that he had to deal with parents who tried to force their kids to read their childhood favorites or parents who complained about Patton’s Pride Month book display (which he was very proud of) didn’t deter him from doing what he loved.

He never turned away a question or passed it along to a coworker. Sometimes he would ask for recommendations from his fellow librarians but for the most part, Patton stuck to his guns and did his best for every single patron that came in, regardless of what they wanted.

One afternoon, a tall man with glasses and a dark blue tie came in with his twin sons, one dressed in red and the other in green. Patton gave them a warm smile.

“Hello there! Is there anything I can help you find today?” He asked cheerfully, looking between the three. The boy in red spoke up first.

“Do you have any new fantasy books that have dragons and princes?” He asked excitedly. The boy in green rolled his eyes, and the dad set a hand on his shoulder.

“Roman doesn’t judge you for what you like to read, Remus, don’t judge him,” He said. Patton stood up from his seat behind the desk.

“Have you checked out our new books display?” He asked, walking the three over. “These three books right here are some incredible new fantasy books, perfect for kids your age who love knights and dragons. I’d take them all, give them a try. Always read the first few pages and if you can’t get into it, set it down and try something else. It’s never good to force yourself to read something you don’t want to, unless it’s for a school assignment,” Patton explained. Roman smiled brightly, taking the three books in his hands, turning towards his dad.

“Thanks!! Dad, can I go sit on a chair and start reading?” The man nodded and Roman leapt towards some of the reading chairs. Patton turned his gaze to the boy named Remus.

“Alright, and what are you looking for, kiddo?” He asked, smiling. Remus frowned, crossing his arms.

“Got any horror comics?” He asked. His dad sighed, but gave a nod to Patton, who led the two over to the graphic novel collection. He selected a few of the best comics for his age, and suggested some other ones. Remus went over to sit and read, and the dad smiled weakly.

“Thank you, er-”

“Patton,” He smiled, holding out his hand. The man took it and shook it once, the firm grip startling the librarian. “Or Mister Patton, whatever you’d prefer.”

“Logan,” was all that the tall man said, glancing over at his sons. “They’ve needed a distraction lately. I just adopted them. They’ve had a rough time at school, Remus especially. He can be… eccentric.”

“They seem like good kids. Probably a sign of their good father,” Patton said cheerfully. “They might be interested in our Dungeons and Dragons group, our writing club, or our book club. It could be a good way to help them meet kids who have similar interests.” Logan nodded, looking down. Patton started walking back to the desk. “Here, I’ve got a flyer with all of our kid and teen activities coming up for the next month. If you have any questions, my email address is on the bottom of the flyer.” Logan took it, smiling lightly.

“Thank you, I’ll see if they’re interested.”

“Alright, let’s pause the campaign there for now, kiddos,” Patton smiled, closing his DM notebook. “We’ll meet again next week to finish it off.” A chorus of thanks Mister Patton rang out throughout the meeting room as most of the kids left to go home. Patton glanced nervously at Remus and Roman, who left together but were chatting with a few other kids. He cleaned up the space and exited the room to see Logan standing there, waiting for his sons to finish chatting with their new friends. He had a faint smile on his face. Patton held the notebook and tote bag with his materials close to him and approached the man.

“They seem to be… doing well, now,” Logan mused, eyes focused on the twins. Both were talking animatedly, smiles on their faces. “Programs like this… it’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Patton sighed happily. “That’s why I push so hard to have programs for the kiddos. Everyone needs a place to belong, even two kiddos who share the same face and DNA. And who have a pretty neat dad.”

“You put a lot of effort into these things, it’s amazing. So many kids show up and are interested in all of the programs you do, I don’t think it’s just that they need a space to fit into, but I think, in large part, it’s because you provide them with a welcoming space,” Logan watched as Remus walked over to the two. “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Was all that the boy said, watching his brother. “Can we go now?”

“Sure thing, go get your brother.”

Patton was walking the aisles of the grocery store, handbasket in tow, trying to figure out what he would make himself for dinner. He didn’t always love living on his own, especially when it meant lots of silent nights in front of the television, but at least he didn’t have to argue with anyone about what to eat.

“Mister Patton!” A voice rang out behind him. Patton spun around on his heel to see Roman dashing toward him, Remus pushing a cart and Logan not far behind. The dad waved a hand in greeting. “Mister Patton, are you shopping for your family’s dinner, too?”

“Oh, um,” Patton smiled weakly. “I don’t have a family, Roman. It’s just me. I’m doing my shopping for the week’s dinners.” Remus approached him, peering into the handbasket.

“Lots of microwavable meals in there,” He pointed out. Patton stammered, his face turning red. Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses as he turned to examine the poultry.

“M-Mostly for my lunches,” He explained. “Don’t worry, kiddos, I get my nutrients all good and well.” Remus raised an eyebrow. Roman looked to be deep in thought.

“You should have dinner with us, Mister Patton!” Roman finally exclaimed, then he ran over to Logan. “Dad, can we invite him over for dinner? Please?” Patton was at a loss for words.

“I don’t want to impose, really, I’m okay with making myself dinner,” He tried to make his voice as clear as possible but it wasn’t every day that he got invited to have dinner with someone other than his television. Logan sighed, nodded, and Roman bounded back over to Patton.

“Please, Mister Patton?” His eyes twinkled, and Patton’s heart gave a gentle tug. Kids asking him things with eyes like that was his biggest weakness, he could never turn down a kid with a soft voice and hopeful eyes. “We’re making roast chicken and veggies, and I’m going to try to make some cupcakes!”

“Thank you, Roman,” Patton smiled, “I’d love to join you, if it’s not too much of an issue.” He glanced over at Logan, who was setting some chicken in the cart.

“It’s no imposition. You’ve done great things for my sons thus far, and… cooking is sort of our way of thanking you, I suppose,” the tall man responded. Remus took a pen out of his pocket, grabbed Patton’s hand, and scribbled down their address and a phone number onto his palm.

“Here, now you’ll know where to go,” He said, tucking the pen back into his pocket. Patton smiled down at him, then at the writing on his hand. “I wrote my dad’s phone number, too. Just in case.”

“I’ll get it!” Roman exclaimed, running to the front door to open it. Patton stood there, changed out of the clothes he was wearing earlier and holding a gift bag. “Hi, Mister Patton!”

“Hi, Roman,” Patton smiled kindly, stepping inside. “Thank you for inviting me for dinner.” Remus came around the corner and hesitated, then waved at Patton. “Hi, Remus.”

“Hi,” He said before he walked into the kitchen. Patton followed Roman into the kitchen as well, and saw Logan chopping up some vegetables. Remus hopped up to sit on one of the empty counters. “Roman, what kind of cupcakes are they?”

“Lemon cupcakes, and I still need to make the raspberry frosting,” Roman responded, opening the fridge to take out some raspberry jam, butter, and milk. Patton set the gift bag on the table, watching the interactions in the kitchen quietly. “Mister Patton, do you like lemon and raspberry?” He went to the pantry to get the powdered sugar sugar and vanilla.

“Oh, yes, I do,” Patton responded. “Do you often bake cupcakes, Roman?”

“Not always cupcakes. I want to bake more. I like making cookies the most, I think, but last weekend I made a coffee cake for breakfast and it was really good,” Roman mused, starting to put the ingredients in a bowl to make the frosting. Logan put the veggies on a pan and put the pan into the oven, then turned around to look at the boys.

“It was a really good coffee cake,” Logan said, leaning against the counter. Patton glanced at the fridge, noticing all of the photos that had been put on it, the magnets around. He noticed a photo of the twins with a mom and a dad, but next to it was a photo of the twins with Logan, all three of them in suits, and a sign that said Adopted Today! held in front of them. Patton tore his eyes away from the photos and turned to Logan.

“I brought a small gift, as a thank-you for letting me join you,” He said, gesturing towards the gift bag. Logan raised an eyebrow and picked up the bag, opening it. He pulled the bottle of wine out. “I don’t know if you’re much of a wine-drinker, but it’s a pretty good bottle.”

“I do, actually. I’ll pour some for us to have with dinner.” Logan asked. He turned around and opened one of the cabinets, pulling two wine glasses out.

“These cupcakes are so delicious, Roman, I could have three more,” Patton said, licking the frosting off of his lips. “You really are an excellent baker.”

“Thanks, Mister Patton,” Roman smiled, a pink blush coating his cheeks. “Dad, we should make sure to send him home with some leftovers!” Logan nodded, taking another bite of his cupcake.

“Alright, it’s getting late, you two should both go finish up any homework and then go to bed,” He said, earning a groan from both of the twins. “No grumbling, boys.”

“But we have a guest,” Remus muttered, wiping the excess frosting off of his chin. “Can’t we stay up a little longer?”

“Now, kiddos, your dad is right. Homework is very important, and you can’t do well in school without a good night’s rest. I’ll be in the library tomorrow if you want to say hello,” Patton smiled. The boys both nodded, and Roman stood up, dashing up the stairs. Remus got up slower, hesitating, then he gave Patton a hug before running up after his twin.

“They seem to have taken quite a liking to you,” Logan mused, standing up and beginning to clear some of the plates. “Remus never hugs anyone, not even his friends.” Patton also stood, grabbing the plate with cupcakes. The two went into the kitchen and quietly put the food away, and Patton watched as Logan loaded the dishwasher.

“Can I ask… what happened to their parents?” Patton’s voice was hesitant, but Logan turned around, a firm look on his face.

“They were my students last year. Smart, good kids… and then their parents died in a car accident on the way to the school play.” Logan sighed, eyes trailing to the photo on the fridge. “They didn’t have any other family, no aunts or uncles, no grandparents, no close friends who could take them. I started fostering them, and after only a few days I put in the request to adopt them. And, a few weeks ago, they legally became my sons.”

“You’re a very kind person for doing that,” Patton said, wiping a tear from his eyes. “And… you don’t have a partner. You’re doing it all on your own.”

“The boys make it easy to love them and care for them,” Logan smiled. “When I found out they were going to be sent away, I just… something in me screamed no, you have to take them in, and so I did.” He crossed his arms, watching Patton carefully. “Remus was hesitant, at first, as expected. He didn’t have many friends before the accident, and after… a lot of the other kids avoided the two of them. They really only had each other.”

“And you,” Patton pointed out. “They’re very lucky to have someone who cares for them so deeply, Logan. My mom raised me on her own, and when I was 18 she passed away. I didn’t have anyone. You gave these boys a second chance, you know.”

“Is that why you went into children’s librarianship?” Logan asked. He sat down at the table and Patton sat next to him.

“I went into it because books were my saving grace as a kid. I didn’t have a lot of friends, but the characters in books… they were there for me,” Patton twisted his fingers together. “The librarians who helped me find those books quite literally saved my life. And I figured that there are kids now who need that same thing, and that I want to be that person for them.”

“That’s why I became a teacher,” Logan was still watching Patton’s face very carefully. Patton reached his hand out and took Logan’s in his. “Despite all of the things about teaching that are hard, helping kids figure out their passions and seeing them grow into awesome humans… it’s all worth it.” He squeezed Patton’s hand.

Outside the kitchen, Remus and Roman were in their pajamas, peeking in. They shared a glance and went back upstairs quietly and into Roman’s room. Roman sat on the bed and Remus on the floor.

“You think Dad likes Mister Patton?” Remus asked hesitantly. Roman nodded.

“I like him a lot, Re. Maybe… maybe he could be our other new dad.” Roman pulled a notebook out from under his bed along with a pen, and opened it. “We should figure out ways to get them together.”

“...what if Mister Patton doesn’t like Dad back? Or… what if he doesn’t want us around?” Remus’ voice was wavering. Roman shook his head.

“I think they like each other. Or… they will, once we push them together.”

“Okay, so here’s the plan for today. You’re going to leave your bag behind after the book club meeting, so that Mister Patton has to call Dad,” Roman and Remus were huddled together outside the meeting room. Roman’s notebook was open and in their hands, a complicated timeline plotted out. “When he drops off the backpack, we’ll invite him to join us for dinner. Get them to drink some wine, maybe try to encourage a movie night…”

“This seems kind of obvious and cliche, Ro,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. “What if we invite Mister Patton to join us for our Sunday morning hike? Or… lock them in a closet together?”

“I like the hike idea, maybe we can suggest that at dinner,” Roman said, scribbling it into his notebook. “We should start slow and simple, and then work our way up to the more intense, more thorough methods.”

“What if the simple methods work really well, though? I want my ideas used, too,” Remus pouted, watching as the other kids filed into the meeting room. Patton approached the room, books and materials in tow.

“Hey, it’s my two favorite twins!” He said cheerfully. “How are you boys doing today?” He stepped into the meeting room, the twins following close behind. The room slowly filled up, the meeting began, and at the end of the meeting, Remus “forgot” his bag.

Logan was startled to feel his phone buzz in his pocket. He was making dinner, some baked potato soup. He pulled the phone out of his pocket to see an unknown number calling, but he picked up anyway. “This is Logan Crofters, how can I help you?”

“Hey, Logan! It’s Patton Hart from the library. It seems like Remus left his bag at the end of book club today,” The voice rang clearly from the other side. Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Okay, I can come by to pick it up from the library later–”

“Oh, well we’ve already closed for the day, but I have the bag and I can drop it off at your house if it’s not an issue,” Patton responded. “It’s no problem, really, your house is on my route home.”

“If it’s not too much of a problem, then yeah, that would be really great, thank you,” Logan eyed the twins carefully as they stepped into the living room. “Thank you again.”

“See you soon!” Patton hung up the call, and Logan stuffed his phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He crossed his arms, giving a firm look to the boys.

“What was that all about, Dad?” Roman asked, an innocent twinkle in his eyes. Remus sat down at the table, head down.

“It was Mister Patton. Apparently, Remus left his bag in the meeting room after book club today,” Logan said. He turned to stir the soup. “You’re not usually one to forget things, Remus. Is everything alright?”

“I must have just been… distracted. By our new friends,” Remus said, voice low. Logan raised an eyebrow at him, and he looked down.

“Right. Well, he’s going to come by and drop off the bag, so when there’s a knock at the door, you need to be sure to apologize to him for going out of his way to bring it,” Logan instructed. Roman hopped up on one of the counters.

“Can we invite him inside for dinner again?” He asked, twirling a strand of his hair between his fingers. “It’s been a few weeks since he joined us that one time.” Logan sighed again, but nodded.

“Only if he agrees, don’t beg him to join us this time, okay? He does have his own life,” Logan reminded him.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and the twins went to go and answer it. Roman smiled cheerfully at Patton, who was holding Remus’ bag carefully. “Hey, kiddos. Here you go, Remus.” Remus took the bag gently.

“Thanks, Mister Patton. Sorry that you had to come out of your way to bring it to me,” He said, head down. Patton just smiled.

“It’s no problem at all,” He said. Roman noticed that the librarian peered a little bit around the two, and he wondered if he was looking for Logan. “Well, I should get going. Tell your dad hi for me, okay?”

“You don’t want to come in to say hi? Or you could join us for dinner, we’re making baked potato soup for dinner, and there are some brownies that I made last night,” Roman started, but Patton waved his hands in denial.

“No, really, it’s okay kiddos, I have to work tomorrow and today was kind of a long day,” He smiled still, glancing down for half a second. Logan stepped out of the kitchen just as he was looking back up, and the librarian gulped. Logan’s tie was loose around his neck and the sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed up. His glasses sat on the top of his head.

“Boys, I told you to not beg him to stay if he didn’t want to,” Logan reprimanded them, then turned to look at Patton. “Sorry, Patton.”

“I-um, well… I suppose I could stay for a bit…” Patton’s face reddened and he looked down. “I was just going to have my lunch leftovers for dinner, anyways.” The twins shared a knowing glance.

“But you just said you had a long day and have to work tomorrow,” Remus muttered, raising an eyebrow. Patton stammered, his words not coming out clearly.

“Well, come on in, Mister Patton!” Roman said cheerfully, stepping aside to allow the librarian to enter. They all went into the kitchen, and the boys each hopped up on the counter spaces, raising eyebrows. “So, you work on Saturdays, Mister Patton? What about Sundays?”

“The library is closed on Sundays, so that’s the day I usually get things done around my apartment, run errands, and the like. I don’t usually work on Saturdays, but we have an event tomorrow,” Patton explained, taking a seat at the table.

“You should join us on our Sunday morning hike! We hike every week, and it’s really nice,” Roman suggested. Logan turned away, tending to the soup again, making Remus raise an eyebrow. “Do you like hiking?”

“Oh gosh, I haven’t had the time to go on a hike… in a really long time,” Patton mused, resting his chin on his hand, his elbow sturdy on the table. “I used to hike a lot in my college days, but it’s not as fun on your own.”

“Then you should definitely join us,” Remus piped up from his spot on the counter. “It’s such a beautiful hike. We all leave our phones at home and just talk and look at nature. It’s pretty great, right Dad?”

“It is a really great hike,” Logan replied. “Soup’s done. Remus, would you get me some bowls, please?” Remus did so, settling the bowls down next to the stove. Logan began ladling the soup into each bowl, handing them to Remus to set on the table.

“Yeah, I’d love to join you, then.”

“Alright, here we are,” Logan said, turning off the car. The twins scrambled out of the backseat and outside, and Patton got out from the passenger’s seat, putting his sun hat on. Logan got out of the driver’s seat and locked the car, watching as the twins ran to start the hike. The two men followed close behind.

“It’s beautiful out here,” Patton said quietly, looking around, a smile on his face. Logan watched him carefully, the smell of sunscreen emanating from the librarian, his polo and shorts flowing gently in the wind.

“Yeah…” Logan mused, turning his direction back to the twins. “Don’t go too far ahead, boys!” Roman continued walking but turned around, giving two thumbs up. Patton giggled a little bit, startling the teacher.

“They’re quite energetic kiddos,” He said, meeting Logan’s eyes. “But they’re really great.” Logan nodded but said nothing as they continued walking up the hill. Up ahead, the twins were nudging each other, kicking rocks, and laughing, and Logan smiled.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for them. Maybe they need more than just me.” Patton wrinkled his nose at this.

“Why wouldn’t you be enough for them? You’re such a great father, and it shows,” Patton said, twisting his hands together. “Sure, they had two parents before, but not every kid needs two parents. I had a single mom, and I turned out okay.”

“More than just okay,” Logan said under his breath, so that Patton couldn’t hear him. “I don’t know, it’s just… they’re very touchy, and I’m… not. They want to hug and snuggle, and I can’t provide that for them, at least not in a way where I’m also comfortable.” Patton looked over at Logan, who was wearing his button-up with the sleeves rolled up and workout pants, his eyes focused, facing forward, and he gulped a little. Logan also had a backpack with snacks, water, and a first aid kit, just in case.

“I think that they can understand that,” Patton responded, finally turning his gaze back to the path in front of them. Remus was giving Roman a piggyback ride up the hill, and the two men could hear the boys pretending to be a knight and a horse in battle. “They have each other to snuggle with, at least.”

“Do you have any siblings, Patton?” Logan asked, also watching the boys. “I’m an only child, but I have a few cousins who I was close to in childhood.”

“I’m also an only child, and I didn’t have any cousins, at least that I’m aware of,” Patton said, eyes drifting down. “My dad left when I was three, and I don’t know much about him. I’ve been trying to find him for years, for medical record purposes, but I can’t seem to track him down. I don’t think he wants to be found.”

“He’s a fool, then,” Logan sputtered out, then he covered his mouth. Patton raised an eyebrow, giggling softly. “Sorry. I know he’s your father. But anyone who doesn’t want anything to do with you is an idiot, and they don’t deserve to be in your life.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Logan. Thank you.” Patton said, and the two fell into a comfortable silence, climbing the hill steadily, the twins always in view. Logan, deep in thought, glanced back over at the librarian.

“I mean it, Patton. You’re an incredible person, not just in your career but in how you are around the boys,” He smiled at Patton, who blushed and looked down. The librarian stumbled over a branch, falling forward, but he was caught by two strong hands. His hand still scraped the ground, and he winced. “Whoah! You alright?” Logan sat down on the ground, pulling Patton down too, and inspected his palms. “You’re a little scratched up.”

“I’m alright,” Patton said, looking down, face red. He couldn’t get the feeling of having Logan’s hands on him out of his mind. Logan shook his head, removing the backpack and digging in it for the first aid kit. He got some sanitizing wipes, and took Patton’s hands in his own, wiping off the pebbles and dirt. Logan was focused as he put a bandaid over the scratch on the librarian’s palm. The twins came bounding up to them.

“Mister Patton, are you okay?” Roman’s voice was concerned, and Remus got on the ground next to them watching carefully as Logan made sure everything was okay with Patton’s hands.

“I’m fine, boys, don’t worry, just a little stumble. If your dad hadn’t caught me…” Patton’s words trailed off, and Logan put the first aid kid back into the backpack. The teacher stood up first, and then held his hand out to help Patton up. He took it, and their eyes met, a blush covering both of their faces. Roman coughed a little, pulling Remus away, and the twins walked a ways away, but kept glancing back. Logan still hadn’t let go of Patton’s hand, though. “Um…” Patton looked down, his blush deepening.

Logan hesitated, then decided that he needed to do or say something, because not saying or doing anything was eating him alive. He couldn’t hide it anymore. He didn’t want to hide it anymore. So he took Patton’s chin in his spare hand, tilted his face up, and kissed him gently. Patton gasped, but didn’t pull away; instead, he wrapped his arm around Logan’s neck, pulling him closer, their kiss deepening.

The twins were losing their minds, cheering and jumping for joy.

several months later...

Patton unlocked the door and stepped in. He closed the door quietly behind him, then peeked into the kitchen to see Roman stirring some cake batter and Remus chopping some fruit. He stayed quiet, going into the living room, where Logan was putting up a sign that read “Happy Birthday!”

“Hey,” Patton finally spoke, startling the teacher. Logan set the banner down, then approached the librarian, hugging him close and kissing him.

“Welcome home, babe,” He said, leaning down to kiss Patton again. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn’t need to do all of this, Lo…” Patton’s face was bright red as he glanced at all of the decorations and the pile of gifts on the coffee table. “But… thank you.” He leaned up to kiss Logan again, but was nearly knocked over by the force of two preteens joining the hug.

“Patton!” The twins cheered in unison. “Happy birthday!” Patton laughed, hoping that Logan would be able to keep all of them from losing their balance.

“Thanks, boys,” Patton said. The hug finally broke, and the twins went back into the kitchen to finish the cake. The librarian took a breath and sat on the couch, watching Logan carefully. “Hey, Lo?”

“Yeah, what is it?” Logan asked, going to finish putting the banner up. He didn’t look back down at Patton until the banner was up, and when he saw his boyfriend next, the man was on one knee, holding a ring out. Logan gasped, then fell into a fit of laughter as he took a ring out of his pocket, getting on his knee in front of Patton.

“I guess that’s a ‘yes’, then?” Patton giggled, tears trickling down his cheeks.

“I had a huge thing prepared,” Logan sighed. “The twins were going to play a song for you.” He scooted a little closer to Patton, then kissed him. “But yes, of course Patton. Yes.” A flash startled the two of them, and they glanced over to see the twins. Roman had his phone in his hand, taking pictures. Remus was pouting a little.

“Aw, man, he ruined the plan!” He said. Logan and Patton laughed, kissing again, then they stood up, sliding the rings onto each others’ fingers. The twins bounded towards them, and they fell into another group hug. “Does that mean we can call Patton ‘Papa’ now?”

“Of course, kiddo.” Patton smiled. Logan wiped a tear from his fiance’s cheek, and held his family close together.

“I love you,” He whispered into the librarian’s ear. Patton smiled, kissing him again.

“I love you too, Logan.”

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psychiatristreturning · 4 years ago

Text

i wouldn’t mind (sam seaborn x reader)

word count: 1k a/n: for @duck2005. i kind of like this idk. please request more. warnings: none, just fluff masterlist

Time seemed to stand still as you listened to your dad drone on as you sat in your families farmhouse in Manchester, waiting for your uncle, the president, to arrive. You hadn’t seen your uncle in quite some time, and he absolutely adored you, and always had since you were a child. He had helped nurture your love of English literature and writing even though he wasn’t much of a writer himself.

“Dad, could you just stop talking for one minute?” you cringed at the harshness of your words, “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous.” you were meeting the entire staff, and you weren’t ready to meet them.

Your dad set down his glass of water, “I know, but there is nothing to be worried about. They’re gonna love you.”

You gave him a tight and unconvincing smile, “I’m just going to go upstairs,”. You trotted up the creaking stairs to one of the many rooms, the room which you were staying in, and laid down on the bed. The many books in the room did nothing to entertain you and you were about to give up, when you heard police sirens, knowing the motorcade was here.

You leaped off your bed and downstairs, to see your parents standing on the porch, you joined them, trying to keep the eager smile off your face. Secret Service walked up beforehand and stood on the steps as your uncle came up the stairs. He opened up his arms to you and embraced you tightly. “I missed you Y/N.”

“I missed you too,”

He stepped back and looked at you, “Later you’ll have to tell me about what you’re working on.”

You nodded as he said hello to the rest of your family. The senior staff stood at the bottom of the steps looking very tired, or that could just be what they look like constantly. Everyone looked worn except for a short man standing next to whom you presumed was Toby Ziegler. The man looked like he had never known a bad day in his life. His small, yet hopeful smile, made you smile.

The first other person who came up was Leo, of course he was the only member of the senior staff you knew. He hugged you and the two of you exchanged pleasantries it was having been a long time since you saw each other.

~~~~

Introductions were odd to say the least, Donna was nice as all get out, Josh was just horrifically awkward, Toby is monumentally sad at all times, CJ was annoyed, but she just seemed tired, Charlie was the most sweet and polite man ever, and the very happy guy was Sam. Sam was excited and interested in meeting you, though he did stumble over his words quite a bit. You found it endearing.

The White House staffers had- for some reason- gone to the barn to work on and discuss the speech for the campaign announcement. You were in your room trying to work on an analysis of songs in Rent for a project you were hired to do. That was until Charlie knocked on your door to ask you if you could come down and help with the speech.

“I don’t know, Charlie.”

“Y/N, please, the president asked.”

You took a deep breath, “Sure, why not?” You followed Charlie through the house and into the barn where the grumpy staffers were sitting and CJ was staring at a snake. You knocked softly on the wall, as not to startle anyone. “Hello,”

Everyone turned to you not expecting you, your uncle opened his arms to you and ushered you in, “Everyone, you met Y/N. Well she has a degree in English and specializes in analyzing text and speeches.” he handed you a copy of the speech. You began to read it, everyone’s expectant eyes on you.

Toby timidly spoke up, “What do you think?”

Your eyes continued to scan the words on the page, “It’s good, don’t get me wrong, and yes I understand that this is a presidential speech, but what is with the extremely flowery language?” you chuckled, “As a citizen I would like to see a president who is smart, of course, but maybe don’t flaunt incredible academic ability in a campaign speech. He is speaking to the public not the pope.”

CJ had her gaze fixed on you, “I like her,”

Then Sam spoke, “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” he picked up his copy of the speech distractedly. No one had ever given him true feedback like that, and Sam enjoyed it. Sam enjoyed you, even though you had only talked to him twice he wanted to talk more. Luckily that night he was able to.

~~~~

The dark bar was bustling with life in Manchester that night. Sam weaved through the crowd trying to find you in the crowded bar. He found you sitting alone at a high-top writing in a notebook. He tapped your shoulder, “Hey,”

You turned to him and smiled, “Hi!” you tilted your head at the seat across from you, “You wanna sit?”

He gratefully accepted the offer and sat across from you, “Hey-” you both started, he gestured to you, “Go ahead.”

“I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to make fun of your writing.”

He laughed, “It’s really fine, you’re wonderfully smart. Plus, no one besides Toby ever gives me feedback, it’s nice to have a fresh pair of eyes looking.”

“Thanks, you both are amazing writers.” you looked down at your hands. You pondered what to say next to the incredibly attractive man across from you.

Thankfully he picked up the conversation, “Hey could I have your number? I’d like to see you again if you wouldn’t mind?” he cringed at his words.

You looked up at him again, “I wouldn’t mind.”

#sam seaborn x reader #sam seaborn #tww #the west wing #west wing

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hookedonapirate · 4 years ago

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Figure of Speech

Summary: Killian has been in love with Emma Swan ever since he was eleven and she was his babysitter. The last time he saw her was the day he kissed her, thinking they were having a special moment… right before she headed off to college with her boyfriend.

When their paths cross years later, he’s just happy she remembers him—because while he’s a talented, free-spirited journalist who takes risks and has a knack for finding trouble, Emma is an accomplished and sophisticated politician who’s planning to run for President of the United States.

Sensing Killian Jones—the boy who once knew her and supported her long before she entered the soul-sucking world of politics—is the key to unlocking a part of herself that’s been dormant for so long, she hires him as her speechwriter. As she travels the world to launch her 2020 presidential campaign, he is by her side, helping Emma find her voice again.

The attraction between them sizzles, but when they eventually give into it, will their relationship withstand the demands of the election and scrutiny of the public?

A/N: Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for beta reading and @onceuponaprincessworld for your help with this! Thank you @captainswanmoviemarathon for starting the event and everyone on discord for all your help!

Before you read, there are a few things I want to clarify.

First off, this story is heavily based on the movie, Long Shot, for the Captain Swan Movie Marathon, with some elements of OUAT weaved in. What I’m referring to mainly is that the president in this fic is in no way based on President Trump. In other words, I am not using this fic to bash the current U.S. president in any shape or form, or any other real-life president. So if you plan on going into this with that mindset, I beg you to hit the back button right now. This story in no way reflects my opinions or views, I mainly stuck to the plot of the movie.

Secondly, I hope that I have made it perfectly clear in the beginning scene of this chapter that Killian is not actually a white supremacist, he is only going undercover to get his story. Nor is he Jewish like Fred Flarsky is in the movie. He’s the Killian we all know and love. So please don’t send me hate messages accusing me of either being a racist or writing Killian as one. I was very torn whether to include this scene or not but I feel it is relevant to the plot and shows Killian’s character in this story as very passionate about what he believes in and is a big risktaker when getting his point across, so I decided to keep it.

Third of all, I know some of you are sick of hearing about politics, especially since the U.S. election is so close. But this is not a political movie, it’s a romance. There is of course some talk of politics, but I’ve tried my best to keep it to a minimum. So if you’re worried about that, please don’t be. The movie genre is a romantic comedy.

Writing this fic was a huge wake-up call for me because it’s the first one in a while that I’m not proud of, for lack of a better word, because I have not been able to spend much time on it. I have so many wips in my docs it’s not even funny and I think that has really impacted how this chapter turned out. But because of this fic, I decided to take some time and work on finishing some of my wips before posting them, with the exception of this one because today is my posting date.

With that said, because I’ve been pushing myself to finish my wips, I finished writing my first original novel after working on it for two years, and I will be publishing it soon. So be sure to look out for Follow My Lead, a romance about a former ballerina and a gym owner.

Okay, now I am done with my rant, so please enjoy!

AO3 FF.N

Rated: M

2018

“So you guys are fairly active on social media, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaxon answers absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the cue ball as he lines up the shot.

“How many times a day would you say you Tweet on average?”

Jaxon taps the ball, sends it into its pocket, and high-fives Marcus, ignoring the question.

“Hey Rogers, ready to get a Swastika tattoo?!” Richard calls from the other room as the tattoo artist is finishing up with him.

“No, that’s okay, I’m cool,” Killian replies nonchalantly through the large lump in his throat, glad his British accent didn’t leak out as he takes his turn.

“Oh, come on, man, we’ve all got ‘em!”

Killian gulps and looks around the room, all the members pulling up their shirts to show their tattoos on the left side of their chest. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but he can sense Jaxon is already suspicious of his motives. He forces a small smile, pointing to himself with his free hand as he holds up the cue stick in the other one. “You want me to get a swastika tattoo?”

“Yeah!” the group chants in unison.

“Then I’ll get a swastika tattoo,” he agrees submissively, hoping the anxiety he feels isn’t clear in his voice. He removes his leather jacket, or rather the jacket he borrowed from Victor, depositing it in a chair before he walks into the adjacent room where the tattoo artist is waiting for him. He sits in the parlor chair, his stomach twisted in knots as he chooses his left bicep for the tattoo and cringes at the thought of getting it. He’s never gotten a tattoo before, and not only is he afraid of needles, but his beliefs don’t at all resemble anything a swastika symbol resembles. Tattoos are removable, though, right?

When the needle pierces his skin, he pinches his eyelids shut and yelps, “Blo-ooooody he-eeeell!” He realizes his mistake immediately when the words screech out in his thick, British accent. Plus, bloody hell isn’t exactly an American phrase.

He’s praying no one noticed, because if they did, they would know he’s lying about who he claims to be, but when he flips his eyelids open, everyone’s staring at him.

Fuck.

Jaxon, the leader of the group, enters the room with Killian’s jacket in one hand and wallet in the other, raising it for everyone to see Killian’s driver’s license. His heart flitters with panic. “Look at this. He’s been lying to us. His name isn’t John Rogers,” Jaxon announces angrily. Marcus appears next to him, holding up his laptop. On the screen is the Storybrooke Advocate website with Killian’s profile pic on the page. “It’s Killian Jones. He works for the Storybrooke Advocate! He’s a fucking journalist!”

“Wait, wait, wait, I can explain!” Killian pleads, raising his hands in surrender.

The members circle him like sharks, and everything becomes a blur as they yank him from the chair and slam him against a table.

“What are you doing, trying to fucking embarrass us, huh?!” Jaxon screams at him. “Who sent you?!”

“No one sent me!” Killian claims adamantly, fear and pain crippling him as he tries to think his way out of this. “I was just…”

Before he can finish his sentence, Marcus reaches into Killian’s jeans pocket as the others hold him down, and pulls out his phone. Which is currently recording everything. “He’s been recording us this entire time!”

Jaxon’s face is red with anger, steam practically emitting from his ears as he grits his teeth and fists Killian’s shirt in a vice-like grip, pulling him so close that Killian smells his wretched breath. “You infiltrated our group! You’re gonna fucking die!”

They say your life flashes before your eyes during your very last moments. They say it’s like reliving every moment that’s ever stuck with you—every moment that’s ever made an impression on you. Killian always thought when he was finally shuffled off to sleep with the fishes, his life would appear in sequence or at least in random order, featuring all the people who have played a vital role in his life—his parents, his brother, his best friend—but he never thought one person would stick in his mind. He never thought all the images flashing before his eyes would be of one person and one person only.

The woman he’s been in love with since he was eleven years old.

Killian remembers when he first fell in love with her like it were yesterday. Or at least an eleven-year-old boy’s version of love. He remembers the song, It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday by Boyz II Men, was playing on the boombox. He remembers what day it was, what he was wearing and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. He remembers thinking about one of his favorite movies, The Sandlot, how Squints tricked the lifeguard, Wendy Peffercorn, into kissing him and how she eventually married him even though she was older and way out of his league.

Back then, a three or four year age gap seemed like a huge deal, but maybe because he was so young and she was… well she was so grown up and mature and very beautiful for her age. Not Wendy Peffercorn. Well, he supposes Wendy was too, but Killian had his real-life version of the movie character. His version of her was also blonde. She may not have been a lifeguard, but she was his next-door neighbor and also his babysitter ever since his brother left to join the Navy. Killian’s bedroom had an excellent view of her backyard and he would occasionally watch her sunbathing by the pool as she listened to music on her headphones or read a book in her bikini. Not only did she have a beautiful body, but she was wicked smart. She was passionate about the environment and the things she cared about. She was super nice to him—which went a long way with him—and had a ridiculously cute, dimpled smile. She was perfect. An angel.

Maybe that’s why, right before his death, she’s the only one he sees.

Before he met her, he never considered kissing a girl, or even liking one for that matter. He thought girls were gross and had cooties. But Emma was no girl. Not even at fifteen. She was a woman.

Emma Swan was his Wendy Peffercorn.

She still is. Even as he’s being threatened by a group of angry white supremacists.

She’s all he sees.

“Did you know that every year, the school throws away over five hundred tons of recyclable garbage? And no one cares!”

“Aye, it’s rubbish. But how do you get muppets to care about stuff they don’t care about?”

Emma shrugs. “They’ll just…” She bites her bottom lip, hesitance etching her features, “they’ll just c-care because it’s the right thing to care about.” She may not have all the answers, but she’s the most inspiring person he knows.

He smiles and rests one elbow on the counter, his chin perched in his hand as he admires her passion for the environment. He admires how beautiful she is in simply a snug pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a picture of a buttercup on the front. He admires her waist-length, golden hair, how it glows radiantly in the sunlight cascading through the kitchen window and how it swishes from side to side when she turns around to grab a mitt and pull the pizza out of the oven. Delicious aromas of crisp, baked bread, melted mozzarella cheese and sweet tomato sauce waft through the kitchen, making his stomach growl. Licking his lips, he jumps off the stool and heads over to grab a slice from the pan.

She gently swats his hand away. “Don’t touch, kid, you’ll burn yourself. Let it cool, first.”

He frowns as he returns to his seat. He hates it when she calls him that. He doesn’t want her to think of him as a kid; he’s almost a teenager! Heeding her warning, he does his best to resist the temptation of getting up again and grabbing a slice, even though the gooey, golden cheese, colorful toppings and toasted crust look amazing. Instead, he places the hand she’d touched on his cheek. He never wants to wash his hand or his cheek ever again.

Emma continues the speech she’d prepared for her Student Council election. She’s running for president, and he is not only her biggest supporter, but he also came up with her campaign slogan, ‘Stay calm and vote for Swan’. He was quite proud of himself when she actually thought it was clever enough to use.

“I would definitely vote for you, Swan.”

“Thanks, Killy,” she says, ruffling a hand through his hair.

Now that’s a better nickname. Though he hates when his brother calls him Killy, he never minds when Emma does.

Once the pizza is cool enough to eat, Emma returns to the oven, using a pizza cutter on the pie. She plates two big slices, one for each of them, and brings them to the counter, sitting next to him. They eat their pizza in silence at first, besides the yummy food noises they make.

“Thanks for helping me. I know it’s probably boring hearing my speech over and over again.”

He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he mumbles through a mouth full of pizza. “I’m just happy to help,” he smiles. His hand pauses midair, still holding his half-eaten slice of pizza as he locks eyes with his beautiful babysitter. He wonders if she feels the same way he does, and normally he wouldn’t think it was possible, but the way she’s looking at him right now makes him rethink everything.

She reaches out to him, and he closes his eyes as she caresses his cheek. His heart slams against his chest and he loses all the air from his lungs. And that’s when he knows he’s totally and completely in love. Her hand feels so wonderfully warm, he wants to spend the rest of his life feeling her touch and immediately gets a chill when she pulls her hand away.

“All better.”

His eyes flip open to see Emma wiping her hand with a napkin. She looks up at him and smiles. “You had some sauce on your face.”

He chuckles on the outside, but internally he’s berating himself for being foolish enough to think someone like Emma Swan could possibly like him. She’s way too good for him.

Especially when he’s thirteen and has to wear glasses. As if hitting puberty isn’t bad enough, he also has to sport the most hideous pair of thick-framed glasses. By then, his father said he was too old to have a babysitter, so he didn’t get to see Emma as much. He mowed the Swans’ lawn occasionally, but she was gone most of the time with extracurricular activities and prepping for college. He convinced himself she could never be into someone like him. Someone who was nerdy and awkward and four years her junior.

Until one day when he’s fourteen and she’s eighteen.

She’s leaving for college and he’s been in his room sulking while listening to It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye for two weeks, not looking forward to her departure. He’s afraid he’ll never see her again. But he’s also happy for her. She’s off to better and greater things, greener pastures as they say. She’s going to Harvard and leaving him in the dust.

He’s on the front porch, sitting on the top step, his chin in his hands and his elbows propped up on his knees as he watches Emma and her parents packing up her things. He wants to offer his assistance, but this seems like a very important bonding moment for the three of them and he doesn’t wish to interrupt. He can tell Mr. and Mrs. Swan are both incredibly sad but also very proud of their daughter, and there are lots of hugs and tears by the time the car is packed. Then Emma says something to her parents and they wave at Killian. He smiles and waves back before they head inside.

Emma walks over to him, and he immediately stands up, making his way down the remaining steps.

“Hey,” she murmurs, smiling at him.

“Hey,” he parrots, offering a small smile. “So, you’re all packed?”

“Yeah, we’re leaving soon.”

Nodding nervously, he scratches behind his ear as he looks away, not sure what to say.

“Look, I’m not a goodbye person, but — ”

“Let’s not say goodbye then,” he suggests and offers his hand. But instead of shaking it, she throws her arms around him. Killian’s stunned, and can’t even move at first, completely paralyzed in her embrace.

Emma’s hugging him.

He slowly molds into her body, his arms wrapping around her waist as she tightens her hold. Her hair smells like strawberries and cream as he buries his face there. He never wants to let her go.

“I’ll miss you, Killian,” she whispers in his ear.

His heart does a little somersault, and he whispers, “Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you.”

He feels her smile against his neck. “Good.”

That one simple word does something to him and he grins into her hair, holding her tighter.

She breaks the hug long before he’s ready, and he’s still awestruck as she leans in to kiss him.

Bloody hell.

Emma Swan leans in for a kiss as he springs forward to meet her halfway. Their lips finally connect like they had so many times in his dreams, but he doesn’t fail to miss how surprised she is when a gasp escapes against his mouth. She doesn’t pull away, but he knows he probably should after realizing she was actually going for his cheek. But her lips are so soft and warm and taste like cinnamon and cocoa, and he swears they move ever so slightly against his. He still has his arms around her, pressing her to him, and her center suddenly moves away from him. Forcing himself to break the kiss, he looks down and notices the very prominent and very hard erection tenting his pants.

Fuck.

His cheeks are on fire as he looks up, apology and embarrassment flushing his face. He’s expecting her to either slap him or storm away and never look back, but she stares down at his groin, her mouth agape.

“Bloody hell, I’m so sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” Emma squeaks as her eyes snap up to his.

Just then, a ‘69 Ford Mustang pulls up in front of Emma’s house, the music booming through the speakers at an obnoxious volume.

He panics when Emma’s boyfriend gets out of the car and makes his way over to them. Killian forgot Neal was riding with Emma to Harvard, where he was certainly not attending. Neal could only get into a community college.

Killian quickly pulls off the backward baseball cap from his head and uses it to cover his obvious boner.

“Hey, babe, ready to go?”

She nods and looks at Killian, a small smile tilting her lips.

“Bye, four-eyes,” Neal taunts with a condescending sneer as he wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders.

Really?

Killian bites his tongue as he rolls his eyes. That nickname really gets old. Can’t he think of something more original?

“Don’t call him that,” Emma scolds her boyfriend, swatting his chest. “He has a name.”

“Sorry, I mean Killian,” he says insincerely before turning around and pulling Emma with him.

As Killian watches them walk away, pushing up the bridge of his glasses with his finger, he would give anything to be the one with his arm around Emma, the one leaving with her instead of being the one she leaves. She cranes her neck to look at him as she walks away. He swears she’s looking at him longingly but he’s sure he’s only imagining it. She’s still gazing at him until her parents emerge from the house. Neal doesn’t even have the courtesy to open the door to her parents’ station wagon for her, and instead hurries into the back seat.

Arsehole, Killian thinks bitterly as he watches the vehicle pull away from the curb. Emma stares at him through the passenger’s window, and their eyes connect. He flashes one last smile and waves. She smiles back at him and presses her palm to the window before she disappears down the road and out of his life, leaving a permanent gaping hole in his heart.

He always thought not being able to see Emma anymore was the scariest thing he’s ever experienced. But that was before he was inked with part of a swastika tattoo so his cover wouldn’t be blown. That was before he fell from a two-story building and landed in a dumpster. Luckily the trash bags cushioned his fall and didn’t contain any glass or other sharp objects. He hadn’t really thought that through when he jumped. But then again, he didn’t really have time to do anything but run for his life while Marcus and Jaxon were busy trying to figure out how to stop Killian’s phone from recording. Killian took advantage of the distraction and plucked the phone from their hands, sprinting for the nearby window.

His phone.

Killian quickly lifts his hand to see that not only is his phone still in his hand but it’s still intact. He climbs out of the dumpster, his entire body sore, but he lands on his feet. He’d left his leather jacket up there, but it wasn’t even his. Killian doesn’t wear leather jackets, he’s content with his hoodies. He borrowed the jacket from his best friend, Victor. He’ll be pissed, but oh well, Killian will buy him a new one.

Three of the members are poking their heads out the window and Killian looks up at them, throwing the hand that’s still holding his phone in the air. He feels like Bennie in The Sandlot when he finally gets the baseball from the beast and hurdles the fence, still holding onto the ball. The difference is the beast chased Bennie down. The difference is the beast in the movie was not actually a beast at all. He can’t say the same about those white supremacists, though.

“We trusted you, man!” Richard calls out. He’s the one Killian had contacted through one of their social media groups.

“Sorry, mate,” he says in his British accent, his words lacking any sort of apology as he spins around. “Peace!” he calls behind him trying to sound as American as he can, and instead of saluting the members with two fingers, which is not a peace sign for Brits, he flips them the bird as he goes.

∞∞∞

“Tonight on Walsh News, we take an in-depth look at Emma Swan, a Rhodes Scholar, a Pulitzer Prize winner and a protégé of President Gold who tapped Swan two years ago to be the youngest Secretary of State in the history of this nation.”

As sore as Killian is from that jump out of a two-story window and as much as he hates that arsehole, Walsh, and everything the media mongrel represents, he lifts his eyes from his MacBook. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and manages a small smile when he sees Emma on the television screen. He knows what he’d done to write his article and expose the White Power group was worth it. He may have lost faith in humanity long ago, but Emma’s passion and ambition and hope have always stuck with him. He wants to believe the support he’d always shown her when they were young has always stuck with her too, but he doubts it. She doesn’t need his support. She never did. She was never a helpless duckling, and even after she lost the student council election to August Booth because of his stupid two prom platform, her wounds healed and she eventually spread her wings and soared high in the sky, leaving Storybooke in the dust.

As Killian gazes at her wistfully at the screen, he sees the elegant swan he always knew she’d become. While everyone he knows had hopes and dreams they gave up on long ago, Emma is the one person who made hers come true. Well, not quite all of them. She always talked about saving the planet, but he knows her work isn’t nearly finished. She’s only thirty-seven, and even though they haven’t spoken to one another since the day he watched her ride away in her parents’ 1987 Pontiac Safari Station Wagon, he still believes in her. He’ll always believe in her.

∞∞∞

Emma sucks in a deep breath as she twists the knob and opens the thick, wooden door, entering the Oval Office with a little bit of forced enthusiasm. President Gold had been vague over the phone about what he’d wished to discuss with her, but his tone of voice indicated it might be something big. “Good morning Mr. President,” she greets with the smile she had practiced in her bedroom mirror repeatedly that morning.

“Hello, Ms. Swan.” He rises from his chair and rounds the desk, gesturing to one of the couches. “Please, have a seat.”

She sits down and crosses her legs, folding her hands in her lap as he sits on the couch across from her and rests his elbows on his knees. “Ms. Swan…”

“Yes, sir?”

He blows out a long breath as if whatever he’s about to tell her has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. “I will not be seeking re-election.”

Emma’s sure the awestruck expression on her face doesn’t even come close to how surprised she actually is. “Really?” Did she hear him correctly?

He nods, clapping his hands together. “Look, I know how absurd it sounds seeing as I’m only halfway through my first term—”

“And you’re incredibly popular, sir.” But she knows most of his popularity stems from being a television star before he took office. He hosted the popular game show, Let’s Strike a Deal.

“And I’m going to use that popularity to transition into something more prestigious than the presidency. I wanna make it in the movies.”

Emma blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to process this. “Yoooouuuu… want to leave… the presidency… to be a movie star?”

“I know it’s tough to make the leap from television to film, but I think I’m going to give it a shot.”

After the initial shock washes over her, she sees this as an opportunity. She had planned on running for president in 2024, but with Gold leaving office at the end of his first term, perhaps she can use this to her advantage. And she knows just how to go about it. Gold may be good at convincing people—he is an actor after all—but Emma not only has far more education than him, her extensive political background has helped her greatly improve her cajolery tactics over the years. After she lost the Student Council election to August Booth in high school, she’s learned that in order to get ahead, sometimes you have to use a little sleight of hand to get there—give the people what they want, so to speak. Or, in this case, help Gold realize just how legendary his presidency could be.

“Mr. President, have you given any consideration as to whom you might endorse? I’m sure you’re probably thinking of Yang or Crowley. Sound choices,” she nods and purses her lips, averting her gaze, a look of contemplation on her face. “It’s so strange because I was considering a run in 2024, and I can’t stop wondering what…” she looks at Gold again, “what it would do for your legacy to endorse the first female president. I mean, wow. ” The word is breathy, almost a whisper. “Now that’s a legacy.”

Gold presses his joined hands to his lips and has a thoughtful expression embedded in his features, but she can’t discern what he’s thinking.

She looks at the floor between them while he ponders her words.

“Emma?” he finally says after a moment.

“Hmm?” She reverts her eyes to him.

“I would like to endorse you to be the next President of the United States.”

Her entire body is thrumming with excitement and her stomach is full of butterflies; she doesn’t even care he said it like it was his idea. She’ll even give him credit for it. Besides, trying to convince him otherwise would be like trying to teach a fish how to bark. She closes her eyes and refrains from jumping up and down on the couch. She opens her eyes again, trying to hide the excitement in her voice but fails, her tone coming out unusually high pitched. “I mean, if you think that’s a good idea, sir, I trust you completely. I’d be… I’d be honored.”

He reclines back, wagging a finger at her. “I’ll be pulling for Team Emma. Because you’ve been a great secretary.”

“Of State,” she adds.

“Whatever. You’ve done it well, Dearie.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“So stay focused. Don’t make any major screw-ups. Don’t kill anyone. That’s probably not a problem for you. I don’t know what you’re into. Whatever. And before you know it…” He rises from the couch and hums the US Presidential Anthem.

“I like the sound of that,” Emma says with a jubilant smile as she stands up.

“Hey here she comes, it’s the first lady president,” he chants.

“Thank you, sir.” She heads for the door, Gold following behind her still singing.

“Who can believe she is actually a woman. She’s got a big brain and a couple other assets.”

Emma opens the door and walks through, not even giving another thought to how incredibly sexist Gold is being. She’s floating high on a cloud as she sashays proudly down the hall and raises a subtle victory fist in the air, whispering to herself, “Yessss!”

∞∞∞

“You’re gonna love this,” Killian raves as he hands the piece to his boss. “I almost died for this.”

Sidney lowers the mug from his lips, swallowing his coffee down. He offers a tightlipped smile as he glances very briefly at the draft before looking up at Killian, a serious expression clouding his face. “Got a second?”

“Of course.”

“Come with me.”

Killian follows Sydney into his office and sits across from him at the desk, setting his satchel on the floor.

Sydney sets down Killian’s article and his coffee mug, folding his hands together on the desk. “I have some great news, Killian. We’ve just been bought by Walsh Media.”

Killian pales and his stomach drops. “What?!” Blood bubbles under his skin at the thought of the wanker buying the Storybrooke Advocate. The thought of him owning something Killian has literally put his blood, sweat and tears into. “Bloody hell. Are you fucking kidding me?!” Ever since he was a kid, he’s dreamed of being an investigative journalist, so he’s been nothing but loyal and dedicated to the company from day one. But in the blink of an eye, Walsh has managed to ruin all that for him.

“Look, I knew you would have a poor reaction—”

“A poor reaction?!”

“Killian, this is a good thing.”

“How?! That wanker represents everything we’ve been fighting against since day one. The whole point of this paper is to fight giant media conglomerates. Now we’ve been bought by a giant media conglomerate.”

“I see the irony,” Sydney nods.

“Irony?!” Killian stands from his chair, his voice growing louder with every word. “He’s going to turn us into a giant propaganda machine! And not the good kind!” Anger pulsates through him as he paces back and forth in front of Sidney’s desk; he’s never been this worked up before in his entire life. And that’s saying something for him.

“Killian, we’re running out of options. We’ve been running as long as we can on ads for weed doctors and escorts.”

Killian stops in his tracks and raises his hands in the air. “Then run penis enlargement ads or something!”

“Come on, Killian,” Sydney admonishes.

He sighs in exasperation, trying to calm down, his voice calmer. “This Walsh guy ran fake stories to get Gold elected.”

Sydney shakes his head and raises a finger at him. “No, they couldn’t prove that.”

“We proved it!” He holds up three fingers. “I wrote three articles about it. You published them!”

Sydney nods, lowering his face into the palm of his hand. “I did.”

“The shite that comes out of this guy’s mouth? He said same-sex marriage caused tornadoes! He represents everything that’s wrong with this country!”

“Killian, it’s done, alright?”

He freezes. “It’s done?!”

“They’re upstairs, finalizing the deal right now.”

Killian presses the pads of his fingers to his temples and turns away from his boss as he tries to process this.

Sydney stands and rounds his desk, sitting on the edge, pleading with him. “Look, we have to cut two-thirds of our staff.”

Killian turns around, devastation in his features. “Two-thirds?”

“Yes. But we want to keep you on. They want to keep you on. It’s just,” he blows out a hesitant breath, “you just have to tone it down a little bit.”

Killian furrows his brows in bewilderment. “I don’t know how I can tone things down any more than I’m toning them down, mate,” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“Okay look, Killian, you’re a brilliant writer…”

“Thank you.”

“You’re funny, you take risks, you connect with people…”

Killian’s brows pinch in suspicion. “Why am I sensing there’s a big but coming?”

“You have a distinct, authentic voice… but… ”

“And there it is…” he sighs.

“But, sometimes you’re a little too much.”

Killian is taken aback. “I don’t think I am too much. I actually think I’m the perfect portion,” he says defensively.

“Look, you have your job, so focus on that and just toe the line a little bit.”

Killian is enraged. Toe the line a little bit?! He’s not toeing any lines. “I quit.”

Sydney’s face twists with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Oh, come on, Killian…”

“You should quit, too. Everyone should bloody well quit.”

“No, I’m not quitting, I need my job.”

“I need my job too. I’m broke. But I can’t work for that tosser.”

Sydney sighs. “At least let me fire you so you can collect unemployment.”

Killian slices a hand through the air over his chest. “No bloody way! I want nothing from him. Besides, I want him to know I quit.”

“He’ll never know it, he’s never heard of you. You’re going to destroy your life to spite a guy who’s never heard of you?”

“Yes! You said it best! That’s exactly what I’m doing. Fuck this.” Killian grabs his satchel and walks out of Sydney’s office, closing the door behind him, announcing to all his former coworkers, “Journalism died today, people!”

∞∞∞

“So the headline is, you’re in great shape,” Mary Margaret, the polling team manager, points out as she displays the next presentation slide.

Emma’s sitting at the meeting table between her Chief of Staff, Regina Mills, and Deputy Chief of Staff, Robin Locksley, trying to follow along with the presentation, but it’s difficult for Emma to focus when her stomach is full of butterflies. She still can’t believe she persuaded Gold to endorse her. Her head is spinning.

“Ninety-two percent, that’s good,” Regina comments.

“It’s very good,” Mary Margaret agrees exuberantly and moves on to the next slide, which shows Emma’s personality traits and how they were ranked. “Your sense of humor is eighty-two, which is solid.” Mary Margaret cocks her head to the side, as though she has to rethink that assessment. “It’s solid, but we wouldn’t mind seeing that number go up a few points… or more.”

Regina leans in to speak to Emma as she takes notes. “I’ll get some writing samples from some funny speechwriters.”

Emma sets her pen down and smiles. “Thanks, Regina.” She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together as she reverts her attention to Mary Margaret and says, “But I’m really interested in knowing how people feel about my accomplishments.”

“Right, so we don’t drill down on specific policies, and that’s only because people don’t seem to care.”

Well, that’s a blow to the gut.

“With that said, if you could broker a deal that gets you out there talking about something you feel strongly about, that would be really great.”

“Well, that’s perfect,” Emma says enthusiastically, sitting on the edge of her chair. “We’ve been looking for an opening to start a conversation about the environment.”

“That sounds great,” Mary Margaret says with a grin, but Emma’s not sure if she’s being sarcastic and trying to hold back a laugh, or if she’s being sincere. “Now, if I may, onto your romantic life…” The brunette shows a photo of Emma and Graham Humbert smiling for the camera.

Emma refrains from rolling her eyes as she rests her chin in her palm. She doesn’t have a romantic life. One make-out session with a world leader she barely knows doesn’t constitute a romance.

However, the way Mary Margaret gushes as she looks at the couple in the photo, one would think they were actually a couple. “Remember the stir online when you and the Canadian Prime Minister were seated next to each other at the Global Business Forum?”

Emma nods, wishing she were taking a nap right now. She doesn’t care about improving her personality traits or starting a romance that will raise her numbers and appease the public. Although she is quite proud of her two highest scores, elegance and charisma, both ranked at over ninety-five percent.

“A relationship like that,” Mary Margaret points to the photo of Emma and Graham, “could push you into the high nineties.”

“High nineties? Wow,” Regina murmurs to herself, making note of it.

“That brings us to…” Mary Margaret switches to the next slide, showing Emma’s wave.

She knits her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with my wave?”

“That kind of elbow movement is um…” Mary Margaret purses her lips as though she’s trying to figure out how to put it delicately, but then gives up, “well, it stresses people out.”

“You know what? It’s just an area of improvement,” Robin assures Emma after sensing the offended tone in her voice.

She supposes the movement in her elbow is a bit too much. It makes her look like a robot actually. “Fine, I’ll work on the wave.”

∞∞∞

“I’m not going to a fancy rich person party,” Killian declares after Victor proposed going to the World Wildlife Fund benefit in Philly tonight. Killian had shared the details with Victor and now they’re walking down Main Street discussing their plans for the evening. But Killian thought Vic was trying to make him feel better. Going to a fancy, rich person party will only remind Killian how rich he is not. He had something else in mind, something involving the closest bar and lots and lots of rum.

“Oh, come on, Jones. Don’t be so judgemental. There will be free booze and pandas and shit. People love pandas and shit.”

Killian shakes his head. “I just lost my job, I’m not really in the mood to mingle.”

“Fine, just sit at home and do nothing. Don’t hang out with your best friend and Boyz II Men.”

Killian’s ears perk up and he stops in his tracks. “Boyz II Men will be there?”

Victor stops walking and turns around, nodding. “Yep. They’re bringing their timeless blend of R&B and hip hop to the party. The fancy rich party doesn’t sound so bad after all, now does it?”

Not at all. He used to listen to Boyz II Men and other popular musicians in the nineties. But mostly Boyz II Men because it’s what he and Emma would listen to when she was over at his house babysitting him. He didn’t know Victor then; they met in college before Victor went off to medical school, but they have similar tastes in music. Which is how Victor knew exactly how to persuade Killian into going to a fancy, rich person party. “Okay, I’m in, mate.”

“That’s the spirit!” Victor pats Killian on the shoulder, and they walk again as Victor sings Motownphilly.

∞∞∞

“I’m starving. Why didn’t you power bar me?” Emma asks Robin as they make their way down the staircase, Regina and her Secret Service agents following behind them.

The Grand Room glitters like something out of a fairy tale, all candlelight and crystal chandeliers and gilt and sophisticated shine. The attendees glitter, the women dripping in diamonds and other precious stones and the men donning suits and black ties.

“I tried to, but you pushed my hand away,” Robin chuckles.

“Hopefully they don’t have skewered foods. I can’t eat skewered foods gracefully; I always look like a fucking cavewoman.”

“And there are cameras everywhere.” Regina points at a dutiful photographer who’s unobtrusively circling the perimeter of the room, taking pictures of as many of the guests as he can. “That would hurt your elegance score.”

“That’s my best score.”

When they reach the buffet table, Emma’s relieved to find that not all the food is on skewers. But even so, she’s so hungry, she may still look like a cavewoman trying to stuff as much food into her mouth as she can. “Cover me?”

“Of course.”

Regina and Robin both stand behind her like walls as Emma makes her first selection, grabbing a saucy meatball on a toothpick and bringing it to her mouth, being careful not to drip any sauce on her black dress.

“Oh my god, these meatballs are really good,” Emma mumbles through a mouthful of food.

“Graham Humbert is approaching,” Regina warns her. “He’s about nine feet away.”

“Shit,” Emma whispers and shoves another meatball into her mouth before wiping her lips and chin with a napkin. After swallowing it down and discarding the napkin, she spins around, offering a bright smile.

When Graham approaches her, giving her a once over, Regina and Robin disperse.

“Graham… how are you?”

“Good evening.” His lips twitch in a pleased smile as he takes Emma’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I am so sorry I missed you at the White House a few weeks ago,” he says in his thick, Irish brogue. He was born in Canada, but his parents are originally from Ireland, so naturally, he took on their Irish accent.

“Oh, it’s fine.” Emma waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Maybe next time?”

“Well, I—”

“If I may?” the photographer interrupts, holding up his camera.

“Aye, of course,” Graham turns toward him, and Emma relents, remembering what Mary Margaret said about how being seen with Graham would raise her score. She supposes if she’s going to be running for president, she must endure some things she may not like, in order to appease the public. Besides, it’s not like Graham is bad looking; in fact, he’s rather handsome with his curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes. But her hectic schedule doesn’t allow time for a romantic relationship.

Graham wraps his arm around her as she places a tentative hand on his back. The camera flashes a few times as Emma and Graham hold their smiles.

“One more,” Graham says, just as Emma’s about to pull away.

A few more successive shots are taken before Graham thanks the photographer and they break their pose, turning toward each other.

He inches closer, speaking intimately in her ear. “What do you say we get out of here? Grab a drink somewhere a bit more… private?”

The music changes from something soft and elegant to something more familiar. Very familiar actually.

Motownphilly.

Emma looks over Graham’s shoulder and her eyes light up when she sees Boyz II Men on stage. “Yeeeessss!”

When Regina told her about the World Wildlife Fund benefit, she failed to mention Boyz II Men would be performing.

“Yeah?” Graham asks, a big smile spreading across his lips.

While he’s thinking she was saying yes to his invitation, Emma had forgotten his presence as soon as she heard the music. Not that she would’ve accepted his invitation anyway. But now she sees this as an opportunity to avoid the question altogether. “Oh my God!” Emma scurries over to the crowd that’s gathering around the entertainers of the evening.

“Alright, alright, alright, alright. Philly, make some noise. Make some noise!”

The crowd whistles and cheers, and Emma is taken back to when she was a kid again. She was ten when this song came out—when she bought their CD—and listened to it constantly throughout her teen years.

Graham joins her on the dance floor as she moves to the music, not even caring about her elegance score. She literally hasn’t danced like this since high school, but she feels more carefree than she has in years and she hasn’t even had a sip of champagne. Stuffy music and champagne have never been her thing. But this… this is her music.

“Duty calls.” Graham’s deep voice in her ear makes her jump, and she spins around to look at him. “I’ll take a snow check on those drinks. Canadian for a rain check,” he winks.

“Okay,” Emma says, forcing a small laugh at his joke.

“Good evening,” he bids her, slowly walking away.

∞∞∞

“I feel very underdressed,” Killian grumbles as he peers down at himself. He’d never thought to change out of his blue jeans, t-shirt and black hoody, and here he is drinking champagne in a room full of rich people who are wearing tuxes and formal dresses.

“Don’t worry, you look fine,” Victor says as they make their way through the crowd.

Killian knows he’s just being nice though. Even Victor is wearing a dress shirt and blazer, but then again he blends in more with the other rich folk because unlike Killian, he’s not jobless or poor; he’s a doctor who makes more than a decent living.

Killian finishes his champagne and places the flute on a tray when a waiter approaches, and snatches another one, gulping it down like rum.

“Easy, buddy. You’re pounding those drinks pretty hard, don’t you think?” And that’s coming from Victor, who’s at the bar every night he’s not on call.

“I got fired today, mate.”

“I thought you said you quit?”

Killian’s gaze moves across the room as he turns his head to look at Victor who is standing next to him. “I was forced to quit because—” His words die in his throat, his jaw dropping when his eyes land on a gorgeous blonde dancing.

But not just any blonde. Killian recognizes her.

It’s the Secretary of State. It’s Emma Swan. His first crush. His first kiss.

He hasn’t seen her in person since she was eighteen, but she’s even more stunning as a grown woman. And she’s even more stunning than she is on television.

#cs ff #long shot au #captain swan

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