#but i can imagine some of my favorite authors going OFF with this source material

[meggettes]

unironically more of you need to watch renegade nell because the quality of fanfic of this series would be amazing. there’s only 15 fics in there now but with your help—

[porcelainseashore]

Into the Ether (1)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.

Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, alcohol, drug references, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, religious themes, minor character death, RE ensemble, VtM concepts.

Author's Note: Super excited for this crossover series! I’ll try to keep a regular update schedule on Wednesdays. I might take some liberties with VtM lore and mechanics to fit the story, but hope to stay as true as I can to the source material. Finally, I imagined RE2R Leon (my favorite!) in this role 🫶

AO3 Link

Chapter 1: RC By Night

You first saw him in summer, when the days were long and the nights were short, and the streets came to life again. There was the heady smell of pollen in the air and the humidity was sweltering. Just a couple of months after you and a bunch of idealistic friends from your theater school days had taken the plunge, and opened an all-night cafe in one of the cheaper, grittier areas of town, east of the river of Raccoon City.

It had been a scrappy little project, one you didn’t expect to receive a cult following and gain in popularity amongst the intellectuals and counterculture crowd. But then again, there was also the City College nearby and the events program you’d lined up each week drew them in. From comedy nights and disco fevers to site-specific and performance art, you knew what people liked and how they wanted to be entertained. A bit of kitsch, a sprinkle of avant-garde and a generous dose of unpretentious social drinking. It pulled him in too.

Him. You didn’t even know his name. The first thing you had noticed were his striking blue eyes that seemed to glow from the shadows of the dimly lit space, peering out at you. Always observing, always watching, never speaking. Sometimes he’d glance over across the opposite end of the room at another pair of companions — a rugged, broad-shouldered man with a dark crew cut bumping shoulders with a younger, spunky redhead in a matching biker jacket. They’d exchange subtle looks of recognition and mild suspicion before returning to whatever they were doing. Though they never uttered a single word to each other.

He came back week after week, ordering the same drink each time, but never touching it. One Manhattan, please. You obliged. A waitress you had sent over to pry on your behalf told you he enjoyed the cocktail, but couldn’t tolerate much alcohol. You saw him lift the drink to his nose, sniffing it as the corners of his mouth turned upwards, silently smiling to himself before he placed it back down on the table again. Strange. You shook your head and prepared a cup of black coffee, taking it over to him as his eyes lit up in surprise with your approach.

“On the house,” you explained, plonking it down on the table. He raised an eyebrow but remained tight-lipped.

Maybe he didn’t like coffee? Or how did he usually take it? “Uh—” you turned back towards the service area, as if to check that the condiments were still in place. “Would you like some creamer or sugar to go with it?”

He raised his hand to indicate it wasn’t necessary and his jaw clenched, before fixing it into an awkward smile. “Thank you.”

Those were the first words he had spoken to you. It rolled off his tongue like a swirl of mist, a sliver of a dream you couldn’t quite remember when waking up. You took another step forward to get a better look at him. He had a baby face, angelic almost, with that typical, boy next door charm your mom would have gushed at, and you imagined he couldn’t be older than his early twenties. Upon closer inspection, he seemed slightly pale, faint dark circles around his eyes that had seen more than his fair share for his age. There was a sense of weariness and jadedness behind them that made him appear older than he was.

Bringing the cup to his lips, he sipped a small mouthful, letting it sit for a moment, before swallowing it down languidly. You admired the curve of his Adam’s apple, bobbing as the liquid poured down his throat, littered with freckles and specks of moles. Something about his very presence mesmerized you, even more so than earlier. It was hard to place a finger on what it was exactly, and why this feeling seemed to grow with every second you were lingering near him.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapping it on the table before offering one to you. Why not? You were a social smoker and took it as a sign to join him. In fact, there was no other place you’d rather be at the moment. You were confused, but did not question it as you took a seat beside him, noticing that he flinched each time he flicked open his lighter to ignite a flame.

His fingertips brushed across your wrist as he lit your cigarette, causing you to shiver in response, while his jaw tensed again, as if trying to rein something in. Licking his lips, he took a puff from his own, exhaling the smoke as it billowed around him and for a second you thought you’d lost him to a wall of fog. Both of you continued smoking in silence, checking in with each other through furtive glances, even though there was nothing to be ashamed about.

At some point, you followed the direction of his gaze and saw that same pair of companions he often regarded from the corner of his eye. They were frowning, giving him dirty looks as he shrugged nonchalantly in return.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” you broke through the thick stillness of the air that surrounded the both of you like a bubble, separated from the rest of the evening revelers.

“You’re observant,” he teased, his eyes crinkling as he stubbed out the leftovers of his cigarette in the ashtray. You followed suit.

“So, what brings you here?” you asked, gesturing to the suit attire sans tie that he was wearing. “Don’t get me wrong, but this place doesn’t exactly seem like the kind you types hang out at.”

“Hm,” he huffed, though your question didn’t phase him. “And what exactly is my type?”

“I’d say you were a yuppie,” you blurted out, your mouth rarely had a filter on these days. “But I can’t be sure, something about you seems…”

“Off?” he offered, smirking, yet his expression carried a hint of somberness.

“Different,” you corrected, but mumbled out a quick apology nonetheless soon after.

“Don’t be,” he grazed your hand again as he adjusted himself in his chair, and you felt like he was doing this on purpose. “At least you’re honest. It’s a rare quality to find these days.” Though the way he said the last sentence sounded loaded with a double meaning.

“These days?” you guffawed. “You’re speaking like an old man.”

He joined in your laughter though that was the end of your conversation for that night. The rest of the evening went by in a blind haze, and you found yourself in a dazed state later on in the wee hours of the morning, still sitting at the same table, but your newfound friend gone without a trace. None of your colleagues had noticed a thing. You didn’t even get his name, but you shook yourself, commanding your limbs to get back to business and clean up after the customers that had left.

The next time you saw him was when you were hosting the karaoke night of the month. Decked out in a shimmery mermaid glitter jumpsuit, hair tied up in pigtails and face caked with extravagant make up, you hopped onto the stage, only to nearly stumble on your flimsy heels when those piercing blue eyes landed on you from the all the way back. Of all the nights he could have dropped in, he chose this one.

You suppressed your embarrassment and warmed up the audience with a couple of well-placed jokes before kicking the event off with those who had registered to participate. It appeared to be a tough crowd as you only had a handful of sign ups, and would need to potentially seek out volunteers when they were done. You hoped the rackety sound system would hold up till then too.

Fortunately, when it came to the crunch — which it did — you always had an ace up your sleeve. “You there,” you called out, pointing towards the back of the room. “Yeah, blue eyes, you.” Crooking your finger, you beckoned him over, waiting in anticipation to see what he would do.

To your surprise, he bowed his head, accepting the challenge, before slowly weaving his way through the crowd, who were cheering him on with your prompting, towards the stage. He flashed you his pearly whites as he climbed up the short stairs, his floppy bangs bouncing with each step. For a moment, you thought you caught something feral in his gaze, but it dissipated when he reached out for the mic from you, his hands sweeping over yours with an electric touch.

You were in awe of him, like almost everyone else in the cafe, when he broke out in a rich tenor voice, effortlessly floating through the notes of the gentle melody, that you felt as though you were being wrapped in a serene, velvet cocoon. Enthusiastic claps and hoots filled the space when he finished. The only two people in the room who were scowling were the same pair of companions he knew from before.

“Will you join me after the show?” he whispered in your ear as he handed you back the mic. Nodding was the only appropriate response.

You were rushed off your feet for the next couple of hours and it was late by the time you called the event to a close, but he was still there, by his usual table, waiting patiently for you.

“So you decided to push me into the spotlight,” he accused with a wry smile.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” you shot back. “Here.” You set a cup of black coffee down in front of him. “My treat.”

“You’re too kind.” It sounded flat, like a game that had become routine between the two of you. He took a sip from it, nothing more, nothing less.

That was all you could recall from your conversation. You didn’t get his name until a few nights after.

“Hey, blue eyes,” you acknowledged as he strolled in.

“Leon,” he disclosed sharply. “It’s Leon.”

That was the night of exchanging introductions. You named all the nights you’d spent with him under various labels, so you wouldn’t forget.

Another night, he had whipped out a flip phone and you nearly choked on your drink. “They still make those?” You stared in disbelief.

He turned to face you in amusement.

“Bet you don’t have a—”

You didn’t even need to finish your sentence for him to fish out his pager, dangling it in front of you like a toy.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “No fucking way.”

He grinned at your outburst and it was one of those times, few and far between, where you experienced a glimpse of that youthful energy he often hid behind a calm, matured facade.

“You’re still living in the 90s dude?” you jested, grabbing the pager as you flipped it over, trying to determine if it was real. It was.

His lips curled up into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”

“Healthcare,” you guessed, squinting at him. “I heard people there still have them. You’re a doctor?”

“I wish.” He coughed out a self-deprecating laugh, before rummaging through his wallet for a sleek white card, sliding over to you. “P.I., actually.”

“Private Investigator Leon S. Kennedy,” you read the title out loud, deliberately emphasizing each word.

“Go ahead, shout it from the rooftops,” he joked.

“Don’t tempt me.” You gave what you hoped was a cheeky wink, not flirty, definitely not flirty.

A lopsided smile spread across his face, and you wondered if you were finally beginning to unravel the mystery of this man, one that he seemed to carry around like a burden.

“Well, now you know where to find me.” He winked back, taking a tiny sip of his free coffee.

That was the night of P.I. Kennedy. Soon, these nights blurred into each other. You felt like you were getting a step closer, but yet you weren’t. He always had you at an arm’s length for some reason, even though he seemed to want more. Why did he keep coming back?

He also appeared to care about what you thought of him. At some point forth, he started dressing down, exchanging his usual formal attire for a shirt with no blazer, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A fine gold chain necklace peeked out from underneath his top collar, which was left unbuttoned. “Better like this?” he asked with no context. You had to pause and consider what he meant for a while before you understood.

“If you’d like to fit in.” You shrugged indifferently. “But I don’t think you want to.”

“You know me well,” he murmured fondly. The back of his fingers caressed the side of your neck, just under your jawline, along a pulse point. You closed your eyes and sighed. It felt sensitive and tender.

“And how well do you know me?” you asked. 

There was no reply, but somehow you already knew the answer.

Another thing you were vaguely aware of was that you kept missing the tail end of your interactions with him. It was as though after a certain point in the night, you would come to, like waking up from a daydream, and he would have disappeared by then.

Your colleagues asked if you were seeing each other. Were you? You were only chatting, you surmised. Nothing had gone that far yet, at least from what you had gathered. But you liked him more than you would’ve liked to admit.

He walked you home one night, and when you reached your doorstep, you were about to invite him in, but he interrupted you. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

Guilt clouded his eyes, unmistakable and heavy. But as he was about to say more, he held back, as if pulled by an invisible thread. Then, you felt yourself overcome with tiredness, but it was pleasant and comforting. “Can you help me to bed?” Your voice sounded far away.

All at once, you felt yourself being propped up under his arm and your weight shifting under your feet, until your head touched a feather-soft pillow. He draped a blanket over your unmoving body. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I never should have—” Even in your state, you could tell it pained him.

“I won’t do it again, unless you let me.” 

That was the last you heard from him for a while.

━━━━━━━━━━━

Leon couldn’t get enough of you. Believe him, he tried countless times, but it didn’t work. From the moment he had set foot into that establishment, he had damned himself. He knew it when he spotted you and smelled your sanguine resonance from afar. It was the humor of your blood, and it was stronger and more consistent than he was used to. You were just so full of life, and enjoying it to the point where he was envious. You signified all the hopes and dreams that had been dashed spectacularly to the ground, ever since becoming… what he was now.

He had to have a taste of you. A little drop wouldn’t hurt, would it? He’d been taught ages ago, by Ada, his sire, that he needed people like you to survive. If one ignored their hunger for too long, things would get worse, so much worse, and not just for himself, but for everyone else around him. It was simply the lesser of two evils to feed, and he’d never actually killed anyone by doing so. Then, why did it feel so wrong? He had gotten good at pushing down these thoughts, until they were reduced to an inaudible hum at the back of his mind. Just like many other things, he learnt to compromise. But compromising meant that sometimes, he’d lose a piece of himself. If there was an equivalent of a soul within the monster he had become, then it was fragmented, and he’d never get back the ones that had dissolved into the ether, due to the bad decisions he had made. Like the ones he would soon make with you.

Taste. Taste was something he had acquired since young. In his human life, he always had an eye for detail, an eye for what fit, what worked, and what didn’t. It certainly helped when he became a cold case detective with the police force, filled with unbridled potential, only to have that overturned, when he decided to chase after love instead of missing people and puzzle pieces. For years, he would’ve done anything for her, only for it to amount to wasted time and regret when the inevitable boredom that came with time struck, and he was tossed aside over something exciting and new. Still, he knew a delicious vessel when he saw one. You were just meant to be a special curiosity that he could pass on to the older vampire for a favor or two. At least, that was what he told himself, when you took the initial bait and he beckoned you to stay through unnatural means. That was the first lie.

When he bit into you, he was met with a burst of color, vibrant shades of all kinds of red. The flavor saturated his mouth: sweet roses, his favorite kind, their scent carried on a gentle zephyr; warm light that enveloped him but didn’t hurt; traces of nicotine coursing through your veins; and the familiar iron tang that gave it its kick. Your face, your voice, your very essence haunted him in that taste. He could see you like a will-o'-the-wisp performing on stage in one of your many plays across a lifetime, laughing with your friends in the back of a car speeding down the highway, crying into a pillow when you had your heart broken by your first love… How was this possible? Your memories came flooding through him and you were blissfully unaware of it all. He felt like a spy, listening in to all your secrets and desires, and his blatant invasion of your privacy disgusted him.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t have gotten so close. He should’ve heeded the warning glances the Redfield siblings were throwing his way. So, he tried his best to stay away, but like an addict, he kept crawling back, seeking you out like a dog with its tail between its legs. How could a mere mortal have such an effect on him? Did he taste this way to Ada when she turned him? He laughed sardonically. If only she could see him now, being so torn up over a woman he had just met.

He tried to erase you from his mind, but you were always meant to be something more. You reminded him of all the things he missed when he was living. You were the best he had ever tasted, but he didn’t want to turn you over to her, not yet. After all, he could afford to enjoy you for just one more time. The second lie had spun its thick, dark webs throughout his head. Truth be told, he would never share you with anyone else.

The third lie came when he resolved to tell you what he really was. He couldn’t keep going on like this and deceiving you, but his sire’s words bore down on him. “You don’t get attached to a vessel,” she scoffed. Wait, wasn’t he one too at some point? Her contradictory words replayed in his ears like a broken record. In any case, he wasn’t attached. He was being brave and honest, which was how he liked to think of himself. But when it came to the crunch outside your doorstep, he was a coward, finding himself unable to breach the rules of the Masquerade and gave in to his urges instead. It was then that he realized deep down, he was truly a despicable and hateful low-life.

Thump! He felt his body slam against a solid wall, as he entered a secluded alleyway round the corner from your apartment. A dull ache bloomed across his skin. After the events that had happened that night, he didn’t even bother putting up a fight. He slumped down until the brawny, older male sibling, Chris, lifted him by his collar and pinned him in place. At the same time, the slender redhead, Claire, Chris’ female counterpart, spoke, “Where the hell are you going with this, Leon?”

“Why do you care?” he spat, blood coating his teeth. “The cafe’s in neutral ground, no one’s claimed domain over it yet. I can feed on whoever I like.”

“Listen, you’re Cam scum, but you saved my brother back then, and you used to hang with us,” she hissed, jabbing her finger into his shoulder to emphasize each point. “So, I’m gonna give you a tip, but just this once.”

She brought her mouth to his ear. “There’s interest in the domain… and you’re not the only suitor vying for her attention.”

His eyes widened at the threat.

“Whatever you do, do it fast.”

[spectralsleuth]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

This is such a sweet and fun ask!! Thanks so much! I enjoyed seeing other authors answering this it’s so hype to get it myself.

1. This is hard to answer, because this year I tried to do something different with every fic I posted. When I got a concept I very pointedly didn’t shy away from it because it seemed difficult, or I thought I might be bad at it, so there’s something that makes me proud with each one. IF I HAD TO CHOOSE THOUGH I’m going to cheat and pick two.

What it Will Be I’m proud of this because it fell out of me SO EASY. I felt like the process of writing it was a testament to how hard I’ve been working at improving all year, and it came together very quickly and very well. I’m also proud because I incorporated @heckitall ‘s comic page to base it off of, and I’d never tried writing fic for a visual media like that. It was super fun!

On the OTHER end of the spectrum is Case of the Hidden City vs Lou Jitsu because it is VERY technically and narratively complicated and is by far the most ambitious thing I’ve ever written. It’s very hard, but I am VERY proud because I haven’t QUIT it. It’s not complete yet, but it is a good amount of the way there and I’m excited to finish it. Probably once I’ve recovered from surgery lol.

2. This sounds insincere maybe, but I really am happy with the engagement I get on my fic. I really do write my fic for me, and while I love to make sure as many people who want to read it can find it, at the end of the day I don’t like assigning people homework! I went through my whole works list and scratched my head and really tried to think of there was anything I wanted to plug, and I don’t think there is!

I guess I’ll post my lowest viewed, my Swanatello fic! @tangledinink ‘s AU I’m sure everyone’s familiar with lol. I knew that one would be lower when I posted it, if only because it has prior required reading (Swanatello). But I wrote it mainly because the AU was starting to reach a critical point and I REALLY wanted to write fanfiction of how I fantasized an ending might be, so I could go back and read it for comfort. I love Odette and the lore Kayson made for his AU, so I’ll plug this only because I think some people may have missed it!

3. Three works!! JUST THREE?? AUGH.

little kid with a big death wish

By @remedyturtles ! This made me leak tears the whole way through, so huge CW’s obviously. Not only was it one of the best fics I’ve ever read, but I got the privilege of seeing how talented Rem is behind the scenes a little and saw how they write and work and I really want to emulate them going forward. One of many all timer fics for me, for sure, I’d love to read any original fiction they put out.

The Whispering Forest and Other Tales

By @sroloc--elbisivni and @kithnkin ! I love love LOVE the feudal Japan fusion, the research, and the perfect blend of Usagi Yojimbo’s universe with what the Riseverse would have been like in this era. Even the little segues into what they’re wearing and eating is endlessly fascinating to me. Every single character is written to be the best and most interesting version of that character I could imagine. Theres Leosagi, there’s a PB&J murder mystery, there’s spookiness- AND Raphael Hamato gets wifed up!! WHAT MORE COULD YOU WANT? I love people that write a fully fleshed story that could be a standalone universe, without losing ANY of the flavor or humor or narrative of the original source material.

And last is I’m Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now

@tangledinink has such a good grasp of family and writing, and realistic portrayals of what would HONESTLY HAPPEN if you discovered literally any aspect of the ROTTMNT narrative. Not even taking into ACCOUNT the turtle nonsense, how do you unpack a family that’s been devoted to destroying a magic monster and sacrificing themselves, or a Dad that fought in a death match battle royale for over a decade, or a RIVAL CLAN OF NINJA? All the characters are written SO WELL, and Kayson does a fantastic job of never letting the characters or story fall into cliche tropes. Their characters are always super detailed, to the point where I really feel it if they’re hungry or hurt or itchy. Which is a weird thing to point out but they make sure you really FEEL the situation. Also like, turtles in highschool? Body dysphoria? My CO-CEO of Hamato Yoshi???

What a great year!! I had so much fun in fandom this year and made a lot of friends.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Her Sweet Little Gumdrop (Yandere!Platonic!Wanda Maximoff x Autistic!Child!Reader CATCF AU)

*Not my GIF, but OH MY GOD THE ACCENT IS BACK!

Summary: Throughout your whole life, you’ve been the unlucky one; you’re constantly picked on, no friends, low grades, even your family doesn’t seem to understand you too well, all because you’re the autistic kid. But when you win a ticket to tour the factory of your favorite candy company, 

(CW: Ableism, use of the r-slur, bruises/scrapes/cuts, sensory overload, drugging)

Author’s Note: I’m back on my Willy Wonka SI, sorta, due to a fanfic I’m writing, and I thought “damn, wouldn’t it be something if Wanda Maximoff was a candy maker?” I mean, she’d basically be Willy Wonka, let’s be honest. She has that capability.

Anywho...I decided why not? 

Also I’m considering on writing a long-term series. Not based on this, but based on the journalist-turned-superwitch imagine. This one.

You have never considered yourself lucky.

You’re just a poor child constantly picked on in school. No friends. Very little happiness. Low grades because you don’t understand the way the material is being given. So many bruises, scrapes, and cuts from falling and being pushed by your classmates because you’re the odd one out. The autistic kid. Almost every day after school, you go home and weep into your pillow, wishing that someone cared, that someone loved you.

What about your family? Well, it's not that they necessarily don’t care. They give you food, clothes, a roof over your head. They support you, to an extent. But you still don’t feel understood by them, so essentially you’re kind of alone.

The only source of happiness you have are two things; your notebook of ideas and your occasional trips to the candy shop to pick out a candy from your local candy company.

Maximoff Confectionaries, having resurfaced after briefly shutting its doors for the time; the motto? “Tastes Like Magic.” You’d pass by the gates, dreaming of getting to meet the mysterious one behind the magic. Your favorite is their famous Scarlet Sweets; gummy candies colored scarlet, but tasting like a different flavor each time you bite into it. One bite might be cherry jelly, the next might be apple pie, the next might be peppermint chocolate. Despite your autism, you do find this sense of unpredictability exciting, because you know it’s unpredictable, but temporary. You’ve fixated on this company since it reopened. The company inspired you to start writing down your own candy ideas, keeping them safe in a notebook you always have on your person.

Then one day, you hear some big news; the confectioner herself, Wanda Maximoff, has decided to allow five children to visit her factory. Five Scarlet Tickets have been hidden among five of her Maximoff Bars. The five lucky children would get a tour of the factory and a lifetime supply of Maximoff Confectionaries’ candy. 

Of course your eyes light up like the stars, despite your constant misfortune. You save up as much money as you can, but your chance slowly begin to dwindle.

One ticket is found.

Then the second.

The third.

The fourth.

Now you’re down to your last chance. You keep saving and buying....But your heart drops when you hear the news; the fifth ticket’s been found. All of your hope is gone. For the next few days, you’re in the dumps. You can’t bring yourself to get out of bed except to go to the bathroom. After some time, you finally manage to pull yourself out of the bed and go outside, when lo and behold, you find a bill on the ground outside. Looking around to make sure no one sees you, you pick it up and walk off. You decide to go to the local candy shop and purchase a few Maximoff Bars; maybe some chocolate will help you feel better. When you get outside of the candy store, you hear the news; the fifth ticket finding was a fraud!

“That means there’s still one out there somewhere!” someone gasps from the crowd forming by the newspaper stand.

You look down at the bars in your hands.

“Could it be....?” you wonder, your heart rising a bit as you move away from the stand, keeping your back to them.

Picking one at random, you slowly remove the wrapper. Your heart is pounding like mad as you hear the crinkle of the foil while you pull it back. You see the chocolate bar, no sign of scarlet yet. Just a little more.....

You can hardly bring yourself to breathe, your stomach is pinballing all over. You pull it back a little more.....

Wait!

Is that a glint of red?

Is it an illusion? 

Is it false hope?

You pull the foil all the way off.

No!

It’s there!

It’s really there!

The last Scarlet Ticket!

You want to scream in delight, but you realize---

“Hey! They found the last Scarlet Ticket!”

The crowd’s found out. They swarm you and almost immediately sounds, sights, smells, textures. People grabbing at you. Shouting in your ear. You can hardly make out what they’re saying. Your heart is beating a thousand miles a second and you soon make a break from them just before you have a meltdown/shutdown.

You dash back home, losing them some ways away, thankfully.

“Look, everyone! Look! I found it!” you cry out excitedly as you burst inside the house, waving around the key to your joy. “It’s the last Scarlet Ticket! I found it! It’s mine!”

They’re all in absolute disbelief as you read over the ticket. And then you realize that the date of the tour is tomorrow! You’re so excited that you can hardly sleep; however, the next morning, you discover that despite the ticket allowing you to choose a plus one, no one in your family’s able to go; they’re all too busy. And you don’t have any friends, so......

You have to go by yourself.

Clutching your ticket like your life depends upon it, you’re an absolute anxious wreck as you make your way to the factory; you excuse yourself past the others to get to the spot reserved for the other ticket winners and their plus ones, feeling overwhelmed by all of the noise. You put your noise-blocking headphones on, but one of the ticket winners snatches it off of your head. The other four play catch with them as you try to get them back while wondering why their parents aren’t stopping them, but the four drop them when they hear the town clock strike 10 am. 

You just barely hear the shattering of your headphones, but you clearly hear the shattering of your heart.

The door opens and there she is; Wanda Maximoff. She dons a scarlet velvet overcoat, a strange sort-of scarlet tiara in her ginger-auburn-brunette hybrid hair, black boots that go up to her knees, a black dress with a minimalist candy flower pattern, and a silver necklace with a giant scarlet gem in the center.

She approaches the gate with a friendly smile and beckons the five of you forward. The four others shove you to the ground to get to her and you feel more pain sear through body, prompting tears to form in your eyes. You manage to find your headphones. They’re cracked in two. Heart sinking, you pick them up and keep your head down as you slowly make your way to the back of the line, hearing a few snickers and whispers from some of the kids in the crowd.

“How did that retard manage to get that ticket?”

“I bet someone took pity on them and gave it to them.”

“Probably. What a loser.”

The tears begin to fall onto your face as the comments dig into your heart. You begin to wonder if you even deserve to be here.

“Why, it’s little (y/n) (y/l/n).”

Suddenly you hear a welcoming, low, gentle voice with a slight Eastern European accent. You glance up to see Miss Maximoff smiling kindly at you.

“I read all about you in the papers this morning. It’s so lovely to meet you. And where’s your family member?”

You shake your head as you present your ticket to her.

“No one was able to come, ma’am.”

She seems a bit taken aback by your formality as she takes it.

“What about a friend?”

You shake your head again.

“I don’t have any, ma’am.”

There are a few snickers and Wanda shoots a glare and a head tilt at the crowd before turning back to you, her face softening.

“I’m sure you’ll find a friend here,” she assures you, holding a hand out.

You’re hesitant, but you take it and she leads you to the others. You don’t want to let go of it. It feels so soft and welcoming. She leads you all inside to a coat wrack room. You all sign the contract with you trying to read the entire thing carefully, much to the chagrin of the other kids, but Miss Maximoff doesn’t seem to mind.

After that, you go through a strange door leading to a peculiar hallway that seems to be getting smaller. She flips open a piano on the door you’re standing around and plays a little tune.

“Rachmaninoff,” someone mutters.

You know that it’s Mozart.

But your attention is drawn to the chocolate room. So many sights and sounds, you begin to feel anxious. Next thing you know, you’re jostled around as the others rush off to who-knows-where. You grasp onto your broken noise-blocking headphones as you fall to the ground; eventually you split off to a small and less overstimulating area, covering your ears and rocking while the others practically decimate the chocolate room.

Miss Maximoff seems to notice you as the odd one out and goes over to you, sitting close to you, but still allowing you your personal space.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know,” she assures you. 

She spies your broken noiseblockers.

“What are these?” Though tone’s not your specialty, she makes it clear that the question is out of genuine curiosity and kindness. You explain to her what you know about being autistic and how those help block out sound and even mention how they’ve been one of the things that’s gotten you picked on.

“How did they end up like this?”

You glance away, reluctant to snitch on the other ticket winners. She seems to understand, and takes the noiseblockers. With her magic, she fixes them up. and gives them back to you.

“There. Good as new.”

You gasp in shock, your eyes sparkling with surprise. You tear up and squeal quietly while thanking her with a hug.

At that moment, something in Wanda clicks as she gently hugs you back; a maternal instinct to the highest degree and beyond. It’s been nagging at her since she first saw you, but now this has sent it over the edge. Such a poor, sweet, innocent, adorable child being beaten down by the world, seemingly left to fend for yourself. Not any longer, she’s decided. You’re gonna be her child.

Of course since this is following CATCF, one of the kids decides to take a taste of the room’s chocolate river and goes splash. You get scared, but Miss Maximoff reassures you that it’ll be okay, they’ll be fine. (She doesn’t know if they will, but she sends one of her workers to try to get them out of the boiler anyway.)

While the others go through the psychedelic tunnel with a few of her workers, she takes you through somewhere much more pleasant; a candy meadow with sheep and unicorns, letting you stop and taste whatever you wish. She can’t help but giggle at how taken in and excited you are by all of this. Finally you get to the Inventing Room and---oh! one of the kids has turned into a blueberry. You’re both terrified and intrigued, but that person gets rolled out quickly to the Juicing Room. Miss Maximoff assures you that they will be fine. (Even though she’s not sure herself as she sends some workers to dejuice the kid; it breaks her heart to see you upset and scared, but it also reminds her of just how helpless and lonely you are.)

The person who broke your noise-blockers is offed next when you go see the squirrels (or geese if you wanna go for the 1971 movie) and the one who took them to begin with is offed in the TV room. Then you’re the only one left. There was one moment that you’d snuck off and taken something you weren’t supposed to have, but that’d been eating you up and you give it back to her with tears in your eyes. (Because I’m not gonna recreate the half-office scene where Wonka yells at Charlie, you’ve suffered enough) She knows you’re the right child to help her run the factory.

“I’d love to stay, but I need to get back home, ma’am,” you tell her sadly. 

“But you haven’t gotten your prize yet,” she tells you.

You shrug.

“Today was a prize enough, ma’am.”

Her heart breaks and melts upon hearing this, and she begins to panic, desperate to keep you, but suddenly she comes up with an idea. She uses her magic to conjure up a Scarlet Sweet.

“Please, at least have some candy before you go.”

You know your parents told you never to accept candy from strangers, but technically you already did when you came to the factory because that was part of the prize. One more can’t hurt, right? You shrug and hold out your hand, sweet little you not suspecting any ulterior motives as she gives it to you; you pop it in your mouth and swallow it.

Suddenly you begin to feel sleepy and give a cute little yawn. Your eyelids flutter and you stumble a bit. You reach towards her for support and she gently takes ahold of you, conjuring up a sensory-friendly blanket for you and wrapping you in it.

“It’s okay, little (y/n),” she whispers softly to you as she picks you up. “I’ll take care of you from now on....."

As you drift into dreamland, Wanda’s mind is planning up a storm. Lifting you up, she takes you deeper into the factory, where she plans to make a sort-of safe room/bedroom for you. She goes through your mind to discover just what’s sensory-friendly to you and what isn’t. She wants to make sure you’re not uncomfortable. Your family will likely come looking for you eventually, but she’s a very powerful witch; she can make sure they believe it’s okay. Besides they don’t deserve you anyways; none of them could be bothered to come with you today, to take a few hours out of their day to enjoy this tour with you. It’s only fair that you be taken care of by someone who would make time for you.

Yes. You.

Her sweet little gumdrop....

“.....You’ll never feel unloved ever again....”

[oogaboogasphincter]

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break. 

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting​ and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic​. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian​

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?” 

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being. 

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.” 

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.” 

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies. 

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.” 

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you. 

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study. 

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced. 

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left. 

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts. 

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt. 

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out. 

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.” 

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester. 

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​, @mellowswriting​

[darling-i-read-it]

The Wrath of the Lamb

3x13

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4.7k (this is officially the longest thing i’ve ever posted, i beat my own record three times with this series lmao)

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, guns, pregnancy, burning, canniablism, death, gore probably more idk 

Author’s Note: My very favorite thing about this rewrite is watching the show and seeing how those writers and creators took pieces of the original source material to create their own show and I took both the novels and the show and just did this. I am very very proud of this. I am so happy I decided to do it. I was going to make a substantial change to the ending but I honestly am hoping that one day, season 4 will happen and maybe I’ll stil be writing. Thank you all SO MUCH for getting this far. I am so happy we got to share this together and that this show is as good as it is. I hope I did it justice because this show is so complex. I hope that you all enjoy and thank you again. 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: Will orchestrates a plot involving Hannibal in hope of slaying Francis Dolarhyde; Bedelia is concerned for Will and the lives of those close to him.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif) 

You looked in the small window of Reba’s hospital room. You were standing outside of it beside your husband, your hand tight around your upper arm. You were almost cradling yourself in a way. This reminded you of when you had come to visit Abigail, when she was still in the hospital. As your eyes went from the window to Will you were once again thrown to the reality of now. If it had been Abigail in that room you would have looked to see a shaking, sweating puppy dog Will Graham who was so unsure of the world around him. This Will was so different. His hair was done, his shirt ironed. You had ironed it. 

He met your eyes and you gave him a small nod. He opened the door and you let him go inside. You did not follow him. He had enough empathy to give Reba and he understood where she was standing. You and him understood. You had all loved a monster.

-

Will grabbed your arm gently. You and him stood in front of Hannibal’s cage. You had no doubt that Hannibal saw you somewhere else. But nonetheless, you allowed yourself to ease in his presence. A thing Will was once again learning to do.

“Ding-dong, the Dragon’s dead,” Will said. Hannibal raised an eyebrow. He looked between the two of you and his smile faded.

“Pity. I had such plans,” he promised. You believed that. “Are congratulations in order?” Will approached the other man, just against the glass wall. 

“I didn’t kill him. Neither did Y/N. Suicide.”

“I would have liked to kill him as well,” you muttered. Hannibal seemed disappointed at that.

“Then he wasn’t as strong as the Dragon after all,” Hannibal whispered. 

“He was trying to stop,” Will argued. You weren’t sure why Will was arguing for Francis. You hated that he was. He had hurt you. Francis had scared you. You didn’t mention it but you could feel that Hannibal caught the emotion

“I was rooting for you, Will. I figured you would adore killing the man who attacked your family, it’s such a shame. You came all this way and didn’t even get to kill anybody. Only consolation is Dr. Chilton.” Hannibal paused for affect. “Congratulations for the job you did on him. I admired it enormously. Did you do it together? Was the idea hatched in the duo?” You straightened your back. 

“No,” Will said simply. 

“What a cunning couple you are,” Hannibal said anyway. 

“Are you accusing us of something?” you questioned.

“Does the enemy inside you agree with the accusation? Even a little bit?” Hannibal questioned. 

“We came back to stop the Dragon. He’s stopped,” Will stated. 

“Your family was on his itinerary Will. You’re safe now, all three of you. You can go home again. If there’s any point?” Hannibal suggested. You gave him a look. 

“I like my life,” Will said but he did not sound convincing. 

“It won't’ be the same. You’ll see it’s not the same,” Hannibal promised. You stepped closer to the glass.

“I want it to be the same. Together, we will make it the same,” you promised.

“Mutual assurances you try to exchange in the dark and in the day will pass through some refraction, making them miss their mark. When life becomes maddeningly polite…” Hannibal thought about his words and made you both think about them as well. “...think about me. Think about me, don’t worry about me.” 

Will was ready to leave. You could feel it. 

“You turned yourself in so I would always know where you are. You’d only do that if we, together, rejected you.” Will put his hand on the nape of your back. “Good-bye Hannibal.” Will started to lead you out. 

“Will…” He turned. “Was it good to see me?” 

“Good? No.” 

Will walked out and you followed him. He kept going but you stopped as the doors behind you shut. Your mind reeled and he could see it. 

“I need my own goodbye,” you whispered. He gave you a long look. He knew that this was what you needed. He knew it was. Still though, he didn’t want it. He wanted to protest. 

“I’m going back to the motel. Meet me there?” You nodded. He walked down the hall. You could feel his tenseness but ignored it as you walked back into the room with Hannibal. He was clearly surprised to see you. 

“Was that not good-bye?” he questioned. You shrugged.

“That was Will’s good-bye. Not mine.” 

You walked in front of the glass and sat down. Hannibal did the same. You were arguably one of the only people he would sit down like that for. 

“I take for granted, on occasion, that you enjoyed my company,” you told him. You played with the hem of your pants. “I recognize, to a fault, that you would eat me if let out. You would eat my husband. You would eat my baby. But still…” You smiled, reminiscently. “I loved you.” 

He was pleased to hear this. He was so pleased.

“You never would have left him. Not even if I killed him in the kitchen,” he suggested. You thought about that for a moment. You thought back to that terrible day and felt it again.

“I suppose you’re right.”

“When you came in to interview for the secretary position I had already picked someone. I didn’t want to be rude, so I let you in.” He stopped. That was the end of his story.

“Why would you let me work for you?”

“Because I liked you. And as it turns out, we would have met eventually. Through Will.” You nodded.

“But it would have been different.” 

“Yes. Yes it would have.” You pressed your hand against the glass. He looked at it and he did not put his hand on yours. 

“Will is right. I turned myself in so you and he would always know where I am. Because you rejected me.” Your hand fell off the glass slowly.

“I deserved that.” 

You stood up and took a deep breath.

“Good-bye Hannibal.” 

-

You walked up to the hotel room and started to grab the key from your purse. You struggled for a moment but eventually found it. You slid it into the lock and unlocked it, walking inside. Your mind hung over Hannibal still when you were grabbed. You had just been able to see Francis coming at you enough to push him off, hitting his head. He ran out of the door and you followed him but eventually he went too far and you had to stop. You turned back to the room and ran back, your hand on your stomach as you breathed hard from adrenaline. 

Will sat in the chair, tied down. You rushed to him, locking the door behind you. 

You started to untie him.

“Who was that?” you asked. 

“The Red Dragon,” he breathed. You scoffed.

“Not dead then.”

“Clearly.” You got him out quickly.

“Are you alright?” you questioned. He nodded, rubbing his wrists. 

“Yeah. He didn’t hurt me much.” 

“What did he want?” 

You stared at each other. He didn’t need to tell you. You knew. 

-

Will, you and Jack Crawford stood in the hall leading to the morgue. 

“The obvious thing is to try to get him to come to us. Bait him with something he wants more than us,” Will said. Jack gave him a look.

“He’d be an idiot to go for it,” Jack muttered. 

“I know. Want to hear what the best bait would be?” you asked. Jack stared at you. You stared back at him.

“Not from you.”

“Hannibal would be the best bait,” Will said so that you didn’t have to. Jack shook his head.

“Why in God’s name would anybody want to meet Hannibal Lecter?”

“To kill him, Jack. The Dragon could absorb him that way, engulf him, become more than he is,” Will explained. It gave you a moment of just realizing that was how he used to speak about killers he didn’t know. 

“You sound pretty sure Will.”

“I’m not sure. Who’s sure? I’m not even sure Hannibal would draw the Dragon. I say it’s the best shot,” Will explained. 

“Set up how?” Jack asked.

“I would be hell to do, I know that. We’d take Hannibal into federal custody,” Will said. You gave him a look. 

“Because Y/N and Alana would never sit still for what you’re about to suggest?” You gave Jack a bitter role. 

“We fake an escape.” Will stared at you for a moment and Zeller called his name. “One moment.” He disappeared in the morgue that left you and Jack alone, annoyingly. 

“You’ll have both their lives in your hands,” you whispered. 

“Since when do you care about if Hannibal gets hurt under my care?” he questioned.

“Since now.” 

-

Bedelia did not look happy. You did not expect her to be happy either. You respected her bit of unhappiness. 

“We assign a moment to decision, to dignify the process as a timely result of rational and conscious thought. Yet what you propose is so thoughtless, I find it difficult to imagine that moment exists,” Bedelia said bitterly. You stood behind Will, walking around the room slowly. Will sat down across from her.

“Decisions are made of kneaded feelings. They’re more often a lump than a sum.” Bedelia stood up, walked to where she kept the drinks and poured herself one. She offered one to you that she then realized you couldn’t drink. 

“However you think you’re going to manipulate this situation to your advantage, think again,” Bedelia said.

“There is no advantage. It’s all degrees of disadvantage,” you argued. Bedelia fixed on you and Will with a piercing stare. 

“‘Who holds the Devil, let him hold him well. He will hardly be caught a second time’.” 

“I don’t intend Hannibal to be caught a second time.” A flicker of alarm played in her eyes. 

“Can’t live with him. Can’t live without him. Is that what this is?” she asked, bitterly.

“I guess this is my Becoming,” Will suggested.

“I just tag along,” you whispered.

“Because you have two crazy men in absolute love with you,” she told you. Will stood up, straightening his jacket. He was done here.

“I’d pack my bags if I were you Bedelia. Meat’s back on the menu.” 

-

Alana looked annoyed. She sat in Jack’s office, a place you hated to the ends of the Earth. You messed with your hair a bit, leaning against the wall.

“Hannibal has tentatively agreed to the deal, as proposed,” Alana said.

“What will make him less tentative?” 

“He wants Will and Y/N to ask him.” She turned to him. “He wants you to say ‘please’.” You gave a bitter smile. So very like him.

“I’ll say ‘pretty please’,” Will said. He was preparing to speak to you. He knew what he had to bring up would not blow over right.

“We will have a stampede when people think Lecter is out,” Jack explained.

“Let them stampede. Authenticity. And let them think I helped Hannibal escape,” Will muttered.

“Authenticity?” 

“Someone has to be close. When the Dragon comes.” He turned to you. “And just one person.” For a moment, the other three people in that room let that sink in. It was a surprise even to Jack Crawford that Will would even suggest that he go somewhere without you. 

“Sorry?”

“You can’t come,” he repeated.

“No I heard you, I was letting you change your sentence.” 

“I don’t think you need to be there. You don’t.” You clenched your fist and looked away from him. You understood where he was coming from. There was no reason for you to be there. You would only be in the way and you had a child. It would be stupid.

But still.

Every piece of you wanted to be there with Will and Hannibal. You were always there with them. They were your boys. 

You shook your head slowly. 

“What do you suggest I do?” you asked. Will thought about that for a moment.

“Whatever you want.” You couldn’t look at him. He pulled a pocket knife out of his jacket pocket and handed it to you. You took it slowly but still looked away from him. “For if you need it.” You weren’t sure what that meant and you didn’t want to ask. 

-

You and Will walked into the room with Hannibal again. You had hoped to never have to see it again. He did not look surprised to see you this time.

“I thought you said your good-byes.”

“We’ve had one last good-bye between us.” Hannibal was tied up in a straight jacket. You hadn’t been this close to him for a while. You wanted to touch him but you held yourself back. 

“You didn’t just say good-bye, though, did you? That little extra bit at the end for you Will. It felt very final for both of you. I believe it’s called a ‘mic drop’. You dropped the mic, but here you are having to come back and pick it back up again,” Hannibal explained. There were nurses in there with you that stopped any kind of intimacy feeling you may have.

“I knew you would keep running if I kept chasing you. I knew you wanted me to know exactly where I could find you. When we needed you,” Will said.

“And you did,” Hannibal commented. 

“I need you, Hannibal,” you said. Will finished it off.

“Please.” 

-

Will stared at Hannibal in his cage. Even as Francis drove by, he stared at Hannibal. His mind became blurry. But still, he saw the outline of Hannibal’s face in the fog that was his mind as it crashed. People died. People were killed. 

Hannibal was let out. 

Will did not panic. He figured this would happen. He knew this would happen. 

When his mind regained his moment, he got up and stepped out of the broken car. Hannibal crossed to the police car as he took off his straight jacket. He opened the door and pulled the dead driver from the vehicle.

“What are you doing?” Will called.

“You know Will, you worry too much. You’d be so much more comfortable if you relaxed with yourself. Are you coming? He’s not going to kill us here. What he wants to do requires something a little more private.” Hannibal behind the wheel was an interesting scene. The side window was smashed, blood splashed across the inside of the windshield. Hannibal pulled up alongside Will, opened the passenger door and shoved a dead police officer out of the vehicle. He leaned over the seat.

“Going my way?” Will looked through the car door and then looked back down the road.

“You know it can’t just be the two of us,” Will said.

“It never was and never will be, just the two of us.” 

-

You sat in Jack’s office. Will’s pocket knife was in your hand tightly. You were getting a play by play that way which was the only reason you were truly there. You sat in a chair, head in one of your hands as you heard the voices go out and static. You looked up and Jack looked at you.

“What is that? What happened?” 

“Hold on.” He dialed a number.

There was an excruciatingly long moment in silence. You held your breath, biting your finger gently as you waited. Someone spoke on the other line. You couldn’t make out what they were saying. 

Then he hung up and looked at you. You stared back at him and waited.

“They were intercepted. We don’t know yet if there are any survivors.” You stared at him and he waited for that backlash. He was ready for it. But there was no anger that went over your face, instead it was just a small laugh. You shook your head and that laugh fell. 

He saw that face and he recognized the look in your eyes. 

“Do you remember the first judge of Will’s trial?” you asked quietly. 

“What?” 

“Do you. Remember. The first judge. In my husband's murder trial?” you asked again, louder this time. 

“Yeah. Hannibal killed him.” You widened your eyes and shook your head slowly.

“No. I did.”

He had no time to react. You opened the pocket knife and leaned across the desk, slashing his throat. 

-

You reached the motel room quickly after that. You pulled in at the same time you saw a car pull into the parking lot behind you. You got out of your car, hands still stained in Jack Crawford’s blood. The car slowed down beside you. You looked into it and the window rolled down, revealing Will in the passenger seat, Hannibal in the driver's seat.

You let out an audible sigh of relief. 

“Jack told me you were dead,” you said as you rushed to the window.

“Get in the back,” Will said gently. He went to grab your hand but stopped when he saw the blood. Hannibal noticed it at the same time. You did not address it, instead you got in the back of the car with them. 

Hannibal pulled out of the parking lot and away.

“The blood isn’t...the b-” Will started but you cut him off.

“No. I slit Jack Crawford’s throat,” you stated. Hannibal, pleasantly surprised, laughed. Will turned around to look at you. He didn’t look exactly surprised at you. More surprised at his lack of shock.

“About time,” Hannibal said. 

“Is he dead?” Will asked. You shrugged.

“I left before figuring that out.” 

You were so happy to be back beside the both of them. You just let out another sigh of relief.

-

You got out of the car and admired the scenery. It was such a Hannibal place, you weren’t even surprised. The sun setting, the cliff, the way the house stood on the Earth. So serendipitous. 

“The bluff is eroding. There was more land when I was here with Abigail. More land still when I was here with Miriam Lass,” Hannibal said. Will looked over the view and down the cliff a bit. Water, crashing. Gorgeous.

“Now you’re here with us,” Will said. 

“And the bluff is still eroding. You and I are suspended over the roiling Atlaninic. Soon all of this will be lost to sea,” Hannibal explained. You walked over to where Will lingered by the cliff. Hannibal walked away from you to find the key to the home. 

“This isn’t the right place for us to be,” he whispered.

“Yes it is,” you countered. 

“Running from the law with a child?”

“Sounds like something we would do and do well.” He looked over at you away from the view. 

“Let’s get your hands cleaned.” 

-

The sun set completely. The moon showed through the glass walls. You stared through the view and Will stood beside you, watching you watch your new life. He put his hand on your shoulder and you leaned into him as Hannibal walked into the room. Hannibal pulled a wine bottle from the rack and poured two glasses of wine. 

“I apologize that I cannot offer you any wine Y/N,” he said. You turned to him. Will’s hand dropped. 

“No worries.  I never liked it anyway,” you lied. Will took a glass. 

“You’re playing games with yourself in the dark of the moon,” Hannibal said, moving toward the window as well. “Wasn’t surprising that I heard from the Great Red Dragon. Was it surprising when you both heard from him?”

“Yes and no,” Will said. 

“Surprised me. I just wanted to sleep in my own bed,” you whispered. Hannibal smiled gently but that quickly fell off his features. 

“You intend to watch him kill me?” Hannibal questioned. You shook your head but Will spoke first.

“I intend to watch him change you.” Hannibal took that in, a sad smile on his face as he fingered the corkscrew. He saw it in his hands and wondered if he should kill you. Kill Will. Get it over with. Instead, he uses the tip to cut the seal on the wine bottle. 

“My compassion for you both is inconvenient,” Hannibal stated.

“If you’re partial to beef products, it’s inconvenient to be compassionate toward a cow,” Will muttered.

“Save yourself, kill them all?” Hannibal asked.

“I don’t know if we can save ourselves. And maybe that’s just fine,” you said. 

“No greater love hath man than to lay down his life for a friend’,” Hannibal recited. Will looked out the window and sensed the danger.

“He’s watching us now,” Will whispered. He looked at you and you looked back at him. You were staring at each other the second that the glass wall shattered, impaling Hannibal in the stomach. You turned quickly, moving toward Will subconsciously. Hannibal’s wine bottle dropped from his hand and a large red stain on his sweater blossomed with blood. Glass shards fell through the air and beyond them, the patio is just the black knight. In the darkness came Francis Dolarhyde.

Hannibal slid down to his knee. Blood pumping from the gunshot wound in his abdomen. Will grabbed you but Francis raised his gun to the two of you. 

“Don’t run. I’ll catch you.” Hannibal glanced down at his belly wound.

“Hello, Francis,” he said.

“Hello, Dr. Lecter,” he echoed. Francis pulled a tripod from his bag and tossed it to you before pointing the gun at your head. Will took the tripod from your hands and began to set it up. 

“I’m so happy you chose life, Francis. Suicide is the enemy.” 

“I had one rag of pride that Reba McClane gave me. It told me that suicide was a sorry end,” Francis explained.

“You were seized by a fantasy life with the brilliance and freshness and immediacy of childhood. It took you a step beyond alone.” Francis pulled out a 16-mm camera from his bag and handed it to you who fixed it on the tripod, still at gunpoint. 

“I’m going to film your death, Dr. Lecter, as dying, you meld with the strength of the Dragon.”

“It’s a glorious and rather discomfiting idea,” Hannibal muttered. You back away from the camera and he reached for the gun that was in his waistband. You wanted to reach for Will’s knife he had given you but hesitated. 

“Watching the film will be wonderful, but not as wonderful as the act itself.”

Before you even knew what was happening, a knife slammed in Will’s face. You screamed. Francis shot you in the stomach. You stumbled back and then moved forward again. Will fell through the broken wall you attacked Francis. You had enough strength to get him outside.

Francis lifted Will off the ground and Will stabbed him with the knife that was once in his cheek. As you found your own knife, Francis started to again fight Will. As you moved you saw Will rag-doll across the stones. Will’s blood spattered across the thick drops to the stone. He got to his hands and knees. You went to stab Francis again but he got to you first, slashing your side. It stunned you enough that you fell back on the stones beside your husband. 

Will pulled his gun out and Francis immediately disarmed him, tossing the gun over the bluff. You wanted to scream but nothing came out. Just as Francis went to slash him again Hannibal came out of the darkness. He tried to snap Franics neck but the man's neck was too strong and he swatted Hannibal away. 

The two of them staggered across the patio. You tried to get up and Will did as well. He tossed Hannibal off but you and Will were up again.

You started to use your knives on his legs, hoping to disarm him. Hannibal grabbed a hatchet that he found off to the side. He slammed it into Francis achilles tendon and then his knee. 

You, Will and Hannibal all stood now. Exhausted but equal. Francis bleeded from his wounds, leg destroyed. Hannibal staggered up to him and bit out Francis throat. He arched his back and blood fell all around him.

Eventually he fell and let out one last breath as he stared at Will in front of him. 

Dead. 

Will started to finally feel his wounds, as did you and Hannibal. He looked down at his hands which were drenched in red. 

“It really does look black in the moonlight,” he whispered. You didn’t know what he was talking about but you didn’t ask. You stumbled to Hannibal who caught you. In his other arm, Will stood. The three of you embraced, not quite hugging, not not hugging. 

You caught your breath together. The night was still otherwise. 

“See,” Hannibal breathed. You did not look up at him. Will’s head was against his chest. You were buried in his neck. You grabbed Will’s hand and he held it for dear life. “This is all I ever wanted for you,” he choked. “For all of us.” 

Hannibal sounded broken. 

You felt broken. 

Will looked broken.

You closed your eyes, brushing back the tears that you didn’t know were there. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered. And you weren’t lying. Will stared at you and he genuinely felt that it was beautiful. He felt what you did. A single tear cut through the blood on his face and fell. 

You held onto him and Hannibal tightly. 

These were your boys. These were the people you had risked it all for. And you did not regret it for even a moment.

Hannibal let out a shaky breath and you felt the Earth underneath you move. You felt the ground and then you did not. 

Where you once stood was drenched in blood. It was illuminated by the moon. If someone was to stand there, despite there no longer being a living person standing there, they would feel the emotions that had left. That place was no longer still. It was breathing. 

The sea underneath it was breathing. It had engulfed three people who loved each other more than anyone had loved anyone. 

The waves crashed against the rocks, the only noise left in the dark of the night.

[80sanime]

Top 10 Favorite Manga

I was bored today so decided to make a list of my top ten favorite manga, with little comments describing what’s great about them:

Apocalypse Zero by Takayuki Yamaguchi If you were scared off by the OVA… well, you might still hate the manga since it’s even more crazy and explicit. But the anime failed to capture most of what makes the manga so unforgettable, be it the deliberately over-the-top tone; charmingly grotesque characters; bizarre eroticism; or the stunning artwork. Plus Kakugo is the perfect man?!

Devilman by Go Nagai This has finally reached the mainstream so I don’t have to describe how influential it was/is. I consider it Nagai’s most put-together work, and where his art looked the best; rough but expressive and with lots of character (for that reason I recommend reading the original edition if you can, not the later ones with the stylistically jarring additions). Although to be honest, my true trashy Nagai pleasure is Cinderella Knight…

The Holy Terrors by Hagio Moto I’m not a huge Hagio Moto fan. I recognize her greatness, but most of her original work doesn’t really speak to me. Her adaption of Jean Cocteau’s novel, though, is some of the most magnificent comic work I’ve ever seen. Their unique styles meld to create something not quite Moto and not quite Cocteau... a dreamlike union.

Maison Ikkoku by Rumiko Takahashi This was a tough pick, since I like individual elements of other Takahashi works more (particularly Mermaid Saga and her short stories), but Maison Ikkoku is the one I find the most compulsively rereadable. It’s still so relatable, while also being such a charming snapshot of what everyday life was like in Japan during the 80s. The characters have foibles but aren’t stereotypes, not even Godai’s wacky neighbors (well, except for Yotsuya), and even the romance subverts her infamous will-they-or-won’t-they waffling by delivering a poignant payoff by the end.

Me-teru no Kimochi by Hiroya Oku I feel like I shouldn’t love this manga half as much as I do. Oku is a creator I have a lot of issues with normally. No matter how intriguing the initial setup, all of his long-term series tend to fall apart at the seams... but this three-volume manga manages to come together in a genuinely amusing and touching way. The last few pages make me emotional every time I read them.

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind by Hayao Miyazaki This seems like a cliche choice but, despite how popular Ghibli is in the West now, I feel like a lot of people are still sleeping on this manga. Since it isn’t primarily aimed at children, unlike his films, Miyazaki is able to add a lot more darkness and moral complexity to this apocalyptic war story; I was impressed when, by the end, even his saintly heroine was forced to get her hands dirty. The style is unique (inspired more by European comics than Japanese manga), the world building is fascinating and the entire cast has so much more depth (esp my girl Kushana). The last two volumes are absolutely staggering.

Ogre Slayer by Kei Kusunoki When Viz released the first two volumes of this manga when I was a kid, it was a shock to my system. Kusunoki lavishes as much detail on the terrifying ogres as she does her attractive main character, the nameless boy on a fruitless quest to become human by hunting his own kind. The juxtaposition of cathartically gruesome violence with the emotional, largely female-coded trauma the ogres represent is captivating. So although the series starts to lose steam toward the middle of its run, I still love it for the strength of its early installments.

Rose of Versailles by Riyoko Ikeda I feel guilty whenever I admit this, but most of the time I prefer the anime adaptions of shoujo manga (Fruits Basket, Kare Kano, Ouran Host Club, Please Save My Earth… this is even the case for one of Ikeda’s later works, Onii-sama e). But the Rose of Versailles anime doesn’t come close to matching the detail and grandeur of its source material imo. If you’ve only seen the series, please please make sure to read the manga as well, esp if you love Andre as much as I do… Dezaki did him (and by extension his romance with Oscar) dirty!

Twin Knights by Osamu Tezuka I wasn’t that enamored of Princess Knight, but this sequel captured my attention in a big way. It’s so imaginative and fun, has great supporting characters and features some of Tezuka’s most beautiful Disney-inspired panels. It also manages to avoid most of the dated gender essentialist stuff that made me roll my eyes so hard in the original, despite them both being from the 50s.

Violinist of Hameln by Michiaki Watanabe Where do I even start with this one? It’s honestly a mess, but the best kind of mess. A fantasy adventure about a hero that fights monsters with the magical music he plays on his jumbo-sized violin, the ping-ponging between cheesy humor, extreme tragedy and shonen manga power-leveling is disorienting at first, but you get used to it. The art is a bit amateur (and becomes increasingly abstract as the series goes on) but you can feel the enthusiasm the author has for his work jumping off the page. Plus, it’s jam-packed with classical music trivia!

I’m sure I’m forgetting some big ones but these are the first that come to mind. What are your favorites? Now that I basically have no work to do (orz) I’d love to read some new stuff. Off-kilter series in particular!

[mirrorfalls]

Was that an invitation to ask one of the things? September.

This one's harder than it looks at a glance - I'm not a prolific writer by any stretch, so my pool of commentary is accordingly small. In fact, I'm pretty sure the commentary to my own comments on other people's stories is about seven or eight times bigger. ^^;

And yet - I've gotten a surprising amount of genuinely heartfelt ones from friends and strangers alike, enough that I feel kinda guilty playing favorites. Buuut not guilty enough to not shout-out ShinShi Queen @momocicerone:

There are several things i didn't expect from you-- i didn't expect you to have so few fics, i didn't expect them to be so short, i didn't expect them to be this good-- i am pleasantly surprised ((had i known this, i would have shamelessly recruited you for the zine, even when shipping is kind of an after thought for you)).

About this particular fic: i really love the simple narrative, straight to the point but never lacking to give the right amount of information. I think this is a first for me, i've never read a fic i enjoyed so much but i have no idea how to review? The concept, of course is very interesting with Shinichi being revealed to be part of the murder plot, big zoomeyes moment right there. It actually paints the entire series in a different light, and that's very refreshing.

In all, a very pleasant read, thank you for sharing.

(I still don’t know if I’m ever going to continue the story in question, but I’ve given it more thought these past few months than ever before.)

Now, as a bonus: witness the first piece of concrit I ever got, waaaaaaay back in Ye Olde FFN Days. This was for a One Piece story (which is still up, but all the Googling in the world probably won't help you find), but IMO it's surprisingly readable on its own, without needing to know a lick about the source material.

I'm still not sure what kept me reading this far. I can't say that this is really all that good, because it's tasteless and runny and sort of plays out like the aftermath of Tom Dickson visiting an Anime Exchange with nothing more than a digital camera and his ever-trusty Blendtec to keep him company. The Jokes are often tasteless or overplayed, I don't like a lot of what happens here, and your timing is sometimes slightly off, sometimes non-existant. Also, your particular imagining of the Joker seems so one-dimensional. I've seen Richard, Lord of the Dance (and the Thirteen Hells), act less single-mindedly bent on destruction. Many of the characters, sadly, follow suit. Anyways, enough with the negative. I guess I can say whatever I want, but I kept reading it. I think I wanted to see Blackbeard rock some faces, or any of the massively underplayed but cool characters get some screentime. I like to see what other writers do with them. But again, I digress, and how! I was going to skip writing a review, but I basically had to once you popped that "Sideways Stories from Wayside School" reference. Having not even so much as heard mention of that book in the last seventeen years or so, that missing-nineteenth-story gag caught me right in the funnybone and stuck me hard with a heavy dose of some intoxicating nostalgia. That earned you at least one giant kudos, all other comments aside. Keeping the tone positive, you seem to have a good feel for and love of the original work. Annotating your works with descriptions of obscure references or Japanese words is a handy thing to do, and I'm glad to see more and more authors doing so. Basically, here's the long story made short: I know this work is essentially "crack humour" at it's truest, but keep in mind that throwing reason to the wind doesn't mean you can't build on a foundation. Think steady hands. Whenever you find yourself sitting on a joke that's incredibly over the top, ask yourself if it does anything for the story as a whole. An episode of Family guy often contains more non-sequitors than a jar of baby food contains rat pellets, but when the episode is over they've each become a distinct part of it, so much so that when someone invariably refferences one of them the avid fan will immediately remember the actual plot of the episode it originated from. Now, if I can get Rick Astley to take his leave of my head for a few minutes, I'll finish off this shindig with Chapter Nine and call it a night.

(Am I subconsciously channeling this guy - with 75% fewer barbs - whenever I write one of my famously overlong comments? Maybe so, maybe so...)

[voiceless-terror]

TMA Fic Recs Round Two

Round One

I’m back again with some more TMA fic recommendations- I was going to wait til Monday, but I got too excited as per usual. A mix of hurt/comfort, some Jon/Martin, and some Jon/Tim (my not-so-secret favorite ship which I need to write more for). Here you go!

poetry material by thenavidsonrecord/ tumblr @ryanberga

Jonathan Sims, Academy-Award-nominated actor, accidentally wanders into Blackwood Books in the midst of a panic attack.

Unbeknownst to either Jon or Martin, this accidental encounter thrusts them both onto a path that neither could have ever predicted: one of healing, growth, and love of the sort that neither imagined was possible.

This is a really interesting WIP with Jon/Martin in an AU setting I’ve never seen explored before. Super excited to see where this one goes.

Everything’s Growing in Our Garden by god_commissioned_me/ tumblr @theyrejustboys

Martin finds a lost cat and calls the number on its tag and expects that to be the end of it. What he doesn’t expect is for the cat to live in a secondhand bookshop that’s almost as charming as its owner.

Current WIP with Jon/Martin and bookstores and cats, what else can you ask for? OP also wrote Drawn to that Sort of Library Magic, one of my favorite TMA fics.

Catharsis by Janekfan/Tumblr @janekfan

Prompt: helen just dumped jon in his office when she rescued him from the circus. maybe when he got back he just took a little while to have a good cry but martin found him in the middle of it and was like "where've you been whats wrong holy shit" and jons just like "hnngh... martin..."

It’s not a fic rec list without janekfan, that’s for sure. Just some really tender and loving emotional hurt/comfort between Jon and Martin after the Circus! I can never get enough of it.

Weaving My Heartstrings by arms_full_of_hyacinths

Martin could probably cut an intimidating figure in a pinch. Possibly. Maybe. To some.

At least he was someone. Someone who wasn’t Jon, and could deal with—with the spiders, if there were any to be dealt with. That was probably the source of the nerves unspooling like magnetic tape to fill Jon’s stomach with buzzing static butterflies.

Yes, Martin was much bigger than a spider.

Jon really, really hates spiders. Martin really, really likes Jon. When a statement from an institute employee sends them spiraling into the center of a complicated web, they'll need to learn to rely on each other if they want to make it out alive.

Super great WIP with Jon/Martin, a slowburn with a mix of fluff, hurt/comfort and genuine, good horror (a combo that is incredibly hard to pull off!)

The Midnight Hour is Close at Hand by Athina_Blaine/tumblr @athina-blaine

“What am I even supposed to talk about?”

“We’re going to a Halloween party. On Halloween. With other people who, presumably, also like Halloween." Martin smiled. "You’ve already got at least one talking point baked right into the setting.”

Jon chuckled, haggard. “You always make it sound so easy.”

“Hey,” Martin said, touching Jon’s chin. He waited until Jon dragged his eyes back up from the pavement. “Worst comes to worst, we’re going to carve our little pumpkin, and we’re going to drink our hot apple cider, and we’re going to have a good time.”

Jon struggles. Martin tries to help.

An almost done WIP with Jon/Martin- it’s a college AU Halloween fic with great hurt/comfort and some spooks!

Tiny Paws by basil_and_thyme

The last thing Tim Stoker wants to do is spend any more time than necessary with his boss, but when he shows up late to work acting even more suspicious than he's come to expect, he has no choice but to investigate.

Jon/Tim? Cats? Set in Season Three? What a combo! Delicious fic and excited to see more from this author.

Please Do Not Consume Raw Dough by bluejayblueskies/ tumblr @bluejayblueskies

Jon feels a rush of warm affection that catches him a bit off guard. Perhaps it’s silly to realize just now that he’s quite possibly just a few answered questions away from dating Timothy Stoker, but he’s never been great at putting together the pieces.

Or, Jon and Tim bake cookies.

It’s Jon and Tim baking cookies. Precious Jon/Tim fluff and softness, gorgeously written and something I’m definitely going to come back to every time I’m sad. 

[sesskagarchive]

January Author Spotlight - effinsusie

Q: Where can we find you and your stories? A: Dokuga, A03, FF.net, and Tumblr

Q: How would you describe your writing style? A: Wordy? But in a good way, I hope lol.

I enjoy experimenting with language and styles and ideas, and am kind of impulsive in the chances I take. I like tropes, but try to stay away from cliches (which is kind of a cliche thing to say, but whatever), and I do want to get you there - just not the way you were expecting.

If I can keep their reactions relatable while still keeping them true to form; I feel I have succeeded.  It often makes the characters come off as imperfect, but as long a they remain likable, or at least sympathetic; that is exactly what I am going for. Also, my humor tends to bleed through even when it's not a comedy.  I just can't help myself; I'm effing hilarious.

Q: What's one thing you'd tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics? A: I like happy endings. A lot of readers get nervous because I - at times - put our beloved couple through the ringer. But it would be a pretty boring story if everything worked out for them right away!  I think that when I make them earn it; the ending is much more satisfying, and remember: when the conflict is resolved, the story is over! So you can trust that I love these two with all my heart, and I want what's best for them. Most of the time.

Q: How do you get/stay inspired to write? (ie: playlists, aesthetics, fanart, this blog, etc.) A: Music is a big one. There are some great playlists out there, but I tend to throw my streaming service of choice on shuffle and just walk around my neighborhood. I don't even have a genre; I can get random inspiration from almost anything. The other way is just me fantasizing about what I would like to see.  

The great thing about shipping a non-canon couple is that you need an imagination to satisfy your needs, and there are fewer rules you are beholden to (not like that stops us lol). Also, drawings!  Send me all of your drawings!  I want them.

Q: What's your favorite SessKag moment from Inuyasha and why? A: Oooh, I love every one of their interactions for one reason or another. But I'm gonna have to go with the crowd on this one, and say the time inside Naraku's body in TFA is my favorite.  He put off looking for Rin to keep Kagome safe while she was unconscious, showing his obvious concern for her safety.  After flying her to find his brother (!), he gets angry and even fearful when Inuyasha puts her in danger.  There is also a moment where it cuts back and forth to them sharing the exact same thought.  Finishing each other's sentences?  Keep it in your pants, you two; there's children watching lol.

Q: What do you like most about the SessKag fandom? A: All my fellow shippers are so supportive and fun; creative and passionate!  and talented... goes without saying.  I am so grateful that even - what? 10 yrs? - after the end of the source material, I have still been able to go online every day and read loads of new and quality fanfics and see beautiful art.  It's always been there for me, and I hope that it always is!  After almost 20 yrs, my interest hasn't waned a bit, and I don't think it ever will.  A lot of fandoms aren't so fortunate, and I think we should be thankful for that. 

Self Rec Time! List the top 3 fics that you are most proud of writing.

Only Human

Stripped Bare

Never Let Me Down

Rec Time! List your top 3 favorite SessKag fics of all time.

Vying for Dominance by ShadowsWeaver1

Lord Charming by forthright

Beside You in Time by RosieB

[bonesliketambourines]

Hiya! It's the Festive Fanfic Author Ask! Drop this on or off Anon into the askbox of your favorite authors you'd like to know better: Which one of your own fics do you think feels the most You to you? Which one of your stories would you suggest to read if someone wanted to get the gist of your personality?

Hi there anon!

I got this ask twice, so I’m going to answer it in two somewhat varying ways, if you don’t mind indulging me! I’ve posted part two here.

This was a tough question, and my friends can attest that I panicked and said “what if you don’t have an actual personality and are in fact just a cobbled-together mishmash of every person you’ve ever found cool” when I first got it. But the more I looked at it, the more it made me think, so thank you for that!

First, I’d like to say that a little bit of me goes into every single one of my stories. I can honestly say that out of everything I’ve written (and that will be 50 Drarry works in 2020 once I post my December drabble, can you believe?), none of them were anything less than from the heart. That doesn’t always translate to an excellent fic, of course, that wouldn’t be realistic, but all of them are Me, at least a little bit.

In these asks, though, there are two fics I’m going to highlight, and this part got super wordy so I’m putting it under a cut; thanks to anyone who reads through to the end of my rambles haha.

The first one is just tell me when it’s alright, which was my @hd-wireless 2020 contribution. This was my second major fest fic for the Drarry fandom (and my second major writing attempt in years; I abandoned fanfic and my other fandom in 2012 and just came back to it again in 2019, and didn’t start interacting properly with fandom and writing until 2020), and I poured a lot of time and effort into this fic. It was an idea I’d had for months, but if it weren’t for @tackytigerfic pushing me to sign up for the fest, and the unending support of the friends I’ve made this year, including but not limited to @maesterchill @shealwaysreads and @p1013, it would have lingered forever unfulfilled in my mind.

This was also a pretty major fic for me in that it was written from Harry’s POV. I tend to gravitate to writing from Draco’s eyes (which I’ll address in the second part of this answer), but this story could only have been told from Harry’s perspective, and I was very nervous about that.

I love Harry Potter as a character; I always have. There’s a lot of negative to be said about the source material and the author (let me just stop here to say that TERFs are not feminists, feminism isn’t feminism unless it’s intersectional, and transphobia and any other type of bigotry is not welcome on my blog; I am fallible and make mistakes but I always want to learn, so if I’m saying or doing something wrong please don’t be afraid to message me, and if you don’t agree with my above statements please unfollow me), but the Harry Potter series did so much to enchant an entire generation of kids and get them into reading; its importance really cannot be understated, and it’s doing the series a disservice to minimize its impact.

There was a time in the HP fandom where disliking the character of Harry Potter was sort of en vogue, and I never understood that. Here we have a boy who experienced some of the very worst humanity had to offer, and came out on the other side still brave, and kind, and forgiving, and generous, and good. He was handed the shittiest luck imaginable, and he wasn’t the smartest, or the most magically talented, but because he was able to rise above it all and love he was able to triumph.

As I grow older, as I see more and more of what this world is like, and how the systems of power in both my country and others actually function, I find myself returning to the story of a boy who became a man much too soon, who was given no breaks and provided no quarter, who watched as friends and family alike died around him, and despite it all managed to do good. What a powerful message. What a powerful character. What an incredible example, for a young child growing up in the divisive environment we find ourselves in these days; a fictional hero who won not by strength, or cleverness, or outwitting and othering his enemies, but by love.

So, with all of that, how could I ever write from the perspective of this character?? I’m much better at writing from the eyes of someone who sees and loves Harry, I’d always thought. But again, this story necessitated being told by Harry, and so I had to do it.

I probably spent more time thinking about this fic than I did writing it. I agonized and stressed and worked myself into a lather about how I was going to make it live up to the idea I had in my head. How, I thought, am I ever going to get such an iconic character right?

This Harry has a lot of darkness in him, a lot of sadness that, based on the comments I got, resonated with quite a few people. He’s traumatized, and he’s unaware of many parts of himself because he was never allowed to learn or to grow, and he’s still trying so hard to live up to the idealized image of himself he was confronted with the second he stepped through that archway into Diagon Alley when he was eleven. He’s not straight but he’s not gay, and he doesn’t know how to articulate what he wants or how he feels; and once he does figure it out, once things seem to settle for him, he’s suddenly up against yet another enemy to battle, but this time it’s his own mind.

Depression is an insidious, horrific thing. It slinks into your mind and crushes you down while simultaneously tricking you into thinking you’re not that bad off, and this is normal, and everyone probably feels this way, and who are you to complain after all? It slowly chips away at your joy and your purpose until you’re left surrounded by an uncleaned house and an inability to do anything to right yourself, no matter how much you want to. I don’t think it would be surprising to anyone to know that I’ve dealt with depression for my entire life, back almost as long as I can remember; I struggle with the apathy it presses into me daily, and there are days when, just like the Harry in this story, I can’t get out of bed, I can’t make my home a pleasing, calming place for me to be, and I can’t do anything but dwell on what I’ve done wrong and who I’ve done it to, and how they’re all going to leave.

There were scenes in this story that were incredibly hard to write. There are scenes that I had a hard time re-reading when I went back and revisited this story a few weeks ago. But this, more than anything else I’ve ever written, is the closest I’ve ever come to addressing my own personal demons, to articulating how it feels to be pinned in place by your own brain like that. And truly, Harry Potter himself was the only character I could ever write who would be able to fully embody this particular battle that so many of us face.

This fic has some of the sex scenes I’m most proud of, and some of the character interactions I like the best, but at its core it’s about a young adult adrift in the world, battling with his own brain and doing his best to bring himself some measure of peace and happiness. And for that, as hard as parts of this were to write (and read), I will always be thankful I was given the opportunity to publish this.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 2)

Summary: Jensen starts his first day of work and learns who the reader is...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader 

Word Count: 2,400ish

Warnings: language

A/N: There is no taglist for this series. Check out the masterlist to see how to be notified of new parts. Please enjoy!

______

“Ella,” you said into your phone the next morning as you walked out of your budget meeting, ready to dive into filming. “It was an accident. I’m sure the girl on the other team knows that.”

“I know. I broke her nose though. I felt so bad,” she said. 

“She’ll live. Talk to your coach. Maybe she knows the other one and you can send a get well card or something,” you said.

“Yeah, I think maybe I’ll do that,” she said. “How’s the movie going? I didn’t hear dad come home last night.”

“There was a slight problem yesterday but hopefully it’s settled now,” you said, hearing the phone get shuffled around. “No, Anthony, I’m not getting you Gil Nicholas’ autograph. Guy isn’t even going to be in the movie.”

“Really?” asked your brother.

“Really. He’s kind of a douche. I gotta go and you guys have school. I’ll talk to you guys later,” you said.

“Wait!” said Anthony. “The Nolan situation. You said you’d help.”

“Help what? You two are dating,” you said.

“Mom and dad, genius,” he said.

“Anthony,” groaned Ella in the background. “Mom and dad will not care that you like boys. Y/N and I like boys and they don’t.”

“Yeah but I’m the only boy and our dad literally plays a badass on TV and in movies, El,” he said.

“Anthony. Our dad also was a single father to me for years. He played dress up and princesses and he gave me the puberty talk. He loves you no matter what. So does mom. Trust me,” you said.

“Yeah, but you’re like, his favorite,” he said. You shut your eyes and sighed. “You know what I mean. You’re special.”

“I didn’t meet mom until I was ten years old, Anthony. Dad and I were on our own. I’m not his favorite. There’s no favorite,” you said. “Dad is just overly protective of me is all. We’ll talk about your cute little boyfriend later, okay? I promise.”

“Alright. See ya,” he said. You shook your head as you hung up and headed onto the set, stopping by the breakfast line to grab some coffee. 

An hour later you were at the Hale’s house location, everything looking like it was running smoothly. You popped inside and saw your dad rehearsing with Jensen, giving them both a smile.

“How’s it going?” you asked.

“Good,” said your dad. “We gonna start soon?”

“Five or so minutes,” you said, Jensen staring at you.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were a PA on the movie,” he said. Your dad chuckled along with a few other people in the room.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you said, holding out a hand and watching the color drain from Jensen’s face. “I’m your director and the author of The Dark Woods.”

“Well fuck me,” he said, shaking your hand as you smirked. “Oh my...I am so sorry for being late last night and assuming you were a PA and you’re Ethan Y/L/N’s daughter and you wrote my favorite book ever which I was totally fanboying out over last night and I’m going to shut up now.”

“Don’t do that. You’re getting paid to talk after all,” you said with a smile. “Walk with me for a second.”

He followed you out to the back porch and across the yard, swallowing loudly when you came to a stop by a tree.

“Sorry about not mentioning it earlier. I didn’t want you to be nervous in your audition if I was there and I figured it wasn’t a huge deal if you found out this morning,” you said.

“No, no mam. It’s-”

“Please, no mam or boss or that crap. Y/N, that’s it,” you said. “I’m not even your boss.”

“I’m mostly embarrassed about how I gushed last night about the book to the freakin author,” he said, some blush crossing his cheeks.

“As the freakin author, we live for that shit,” you laughed. Jensen relaxed and let out a small one of his own. “I watched your audition. You knew Lyle inside and out.”

“I’ve read the book more than a few times. I…” he trailed off, face going red.

“Yes?”

“I should quit while I’m ahead,” he said. 

“Maybe you can tell me why you like it so much over that drink,” you said, giving him a smile. He looked around and raised an eyebrow.

“You still want to do that?” he asked.

“I’m in charge. It doesn’t mean I’m your boss. That’s casting’s job. I would still expect a drink,” you said.

“Is that such a good idea?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I sort of asked as...not friends,” he said. “You being...you and the director…”

“Oh,” you said.

“Your dad is kind of terrifying too,” he said. 

“Yeah. He has scared off more than a few guys. Or they’re more interested in him,” you said, forcing a smile. You’d never in a million years want him to feel uncomfortable so if he wanted to keep things professional, that was okay with you. “I guess I’ll be drinking alone on Saturday then.”

“I mean, I didn’t say…” he trailed off. “Maybe someday-“

“It’s cool, Jensen. Let’s get started for the day, hm?” you said. He nodded and you headed back inside the house, finding your chair in a back room. “We ready to go?”

“Mhm,” said your assistant director AJ as he took a seat beside you. You sat back and pulled on your headphones as various departments started shouting off, the camera lining up its first shot.

“Action!” you called. Your dad walked into the kitchen, pointing for Jensen to take a seat. He begrudgingly did so, your dad going to the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.

“You live here?” asked Jensen.

“No. I pay the mortgage on this place for fun. Of course I live here, kid,” he said. “Now keep your mouth shut.”

“You’re not a very pleasant person,” mumbled Jensen. Your dad spun around and grabbed the fork off the table, holding it up to Jensen’s neck. He froze, not even letting a breath escape.

“I am still not positive if I’m letting you live yet so be quiet if you want to increase your odds,” he said. Jensen swallowed and your dad pulled away, going back to the eggs. “I hope you like fried eggs.”

“Actually I don’t,” said Jensen. Your dad spun around again but this time Jensen stared him down.

“Fried eggs it is,” he said with a smirk. Jensen rolled his eyes and you called cut.

“Do it again,” you said. “Jensen, can you pause when you walk in and take a look around this time? Notice the house a bit.”

“No problem,” he said.

“Reset,” you said, waiting for them to get out of view of the camera. “Action!”

“Hey, Jensen,” you said, catching him in the parking lot for the actors near the production office that evening. He spun around with a smile, fixing his backpack on his shoulders. 

“Hi, Y/N. What’s up?” he asked.

“I uh, just wanted to say you did really good today. I’m really happy you’re playing Lyle,” you said.

“Oh. Thanks. I’m nowhere near as good as your dad,” he said. “He’s kind of insanely good at this.”

“He’s had more practice,” you said. “Honestly though, I’m glad Gil dropped out. He wouldn’t have done what you were doing today.”

“Why’d he drop out anyways? He’s in freaking Marvel movies. He’s huge,” said Jensen.

“I think he got an offer to do some serious drama. He doesn’t need a breakthrough role. He’s already had that. To be honest I never liked the choice,” you said.

“Well, Lyle’s smart. Gil isn’t exactly known for playing intelligent characters,” said Jensen. You smirked and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I probably shouldn’t trash talk him. I’ve never met him.”

“I have. Trust me. He deserves it. You know your Lyle Sullivan,” you said. 

“I started rereading today during a few breaks. Never hurts to have the source material in your head,” he said. 

“Not sure Gil can read so you’re already winning,” you said. Jensen laughed and nodded. “You don’t have to reread though Jensen. I kept the script the same as the book.”

“Oh, I know. I could tell there weren’t really any changes between them. I just like rereading it,” he said.

“I like to read it every once in a while too,” you said. “I’d say if you ever had any questions on how to play a scene or how Lyle would act feel free to ask but I have a feeling you won’t need help in that department.”

“You had plenty of notes for me today,” he said, ducking his head down.

“I’m sorry,” you said, his head instantly popping up.

“No, no. They were good. It’s kind of why I’m reading it again. Take the kitchen scene today. It’s very clear in the book how Lyle looks around the space,” he said. You stared at him and smiled.

“Jensen, you don’t have to memorize the thing. It’s why I give you notes, so you don’t have to. I know I went a bit overboard today. I’ll try to ease up some.”

“No, it’s good. Keep doing it. It makes it better,” he said. “I want to make it look as good as possible. I can’t imagine being in charge of everything.”

“Well I only get called kid in every meeting I’m in which is lovely,” you said. “I mean my dad is the other lead. I get the whole people thinking this is nepotism thing.”

“Didn’t you use a pen name during publishing though, at least to get someone to choose it on it’s own merits, not your name? I thought I read that,” he said.

“Yeah. I did. Once I got the deal I gave my real name. I mean, people can think whatever they want. I wanted it published because it was good enough though, not because some chick in an office thinks my dad is attractive or something,” you said.

“I can understand that,” he said. “Hey, can I ask question about the book?”

“Shoot,” you said as he leaned back against his car.

“Why does the cover have a picture of the woods on a bright day if it’s the Dark Woods? I always wondered that,” he said.

“Oh boy,” you laughed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been asked that. If you can believe it, there was a printing error where they forgot to add a filter but it was too late to go back and fix it. I ended up liking it.”

“Here I thought it was because Lyle’s a good guy, Hale too, despite all the reasons they have to be bad,” he said. “You know, light in dark. Symbolism or whatever.”

“Nah,” you laughed, Jensen letting out one of his own. “I do like that interpretation though. I uh, I’m sorry for keeping you. I’m sure you want to get home. I have to go do some more work. I won’t keep you anymore.”

“No, it’s cool. I like talking to you,” he said. “I’ll catch you around tomorrow, Y/N.”

“You too, Jensen.”

You headed into the building, heading upstairs to where your movie had a few rooms to use. You popped into your small office and pulled out your laptop from your backpack, stretching before you grabbed your binder and sat down.

You skimmed through it and made some notes, hopping back and forth between it and your email for a while. You yawned and put your head in your hand, scrolling through a few things and making a choice on a few costume choices for Jensen and your dad.

“Kiddo,” said your dad, shaking your shoulder all of a sudden. You popped your head up from your production office desk, your dad giving you a smile. “You missed mom’s calls earlier. She had me come check on you since you never answered. I think you conked out at some point.”

“What time is it?” you yawned.

“About three in the morning. I checked your apartment first,” he said. “Come on, up and at ‘em.”

“I got to be here at six for prep, might as well stay,” you said, stretching in your seat.

“You’ll burn yourself out if you pull all-nighters all the time,” he said. “It’s only day three.”

“And it took a lot longer to film yesterday’s scenes than I thought it would,” you said. “Everything was good but the location hopping took way longer than I thought it would.”

“Follow me,” he said. You groaned and he pulled you to your feet, guiding you down the hall and outside to the night air. You walked for a few minutes until you were at his trailer door, your dad opening it up and flipping on the light switch.

“Your trailers have gotten nicer over the years,” you said as you stepped up inside

“And what was your favorite part of my trailers ever since you were a little girl?” he asked, walking you back to the bedroom. “The big ass bed.”

“They were awesome for jumping on,” you said.

“Well next time you skip dinner at our place, text mom so she doesn’t worry and the next time you need to stay late, crash here, sweetie,” he said. “Now sleep, kiddo. I’ll be out on the pullout.”

“Thanks dad,” you said, getting a kiss on the forehead before you plopped down on the bed.

“Rest up. Tomorrow’s a big stunt day.”

______

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

[maxbegone]

IT’S FINALLY HERE!

In an effort to spread some love to the fanfic authors in the Schitt’s Creek community, this post is a compiling of some of our favorite fics! Thank you to every single person who decided to participate in this dedication of love! And to the fanfic authors out there - thank you for being so wonderful and sharing your stories with us! Here’s to many more countless hours of reading - day or night! 

There are repeats! I understand that may seem a little redundant, but I wanted everyone who participated to share their favorite fics regardless of repetition, author, pairing, AU, size, etcetera. 

A very special thanks to everyone who participated! 

@bestwisheswarmestregards // @brighter-than-sunshine  // @danieljradcliffe @darnitdraco  // @imargaery  // @justwaiting23  // @leopxld-fitz // @lickrustdavid // @loveburnsbrighter // @oceanavinfinity @poorguysheadcanon​ // @ratchet // @roguebabyinyourstore @stuck-on-your-heart // @thisbuildinghasfeelings​ // @vulcantastic​ @wlwbaudelaire​

I’m going to go ahead and put everything under the cut, because this should be quite a long post! 

**If there are authors on tumblr whose handles were not properly added, please send me a message!

@bestwisheswarmestregards​

Fic 1: Ace Of Hearts by loveisallyouneed21

Why I like it: It is just really sweet and made me really happy. Plus I like seeing Patrick as an asexual being one myself. I don’t see a lot of ace characters in the media so seeing someone portray Patrick, a character I love, as one makes me really happy. 

Fic 2: An Unexpected Arrival by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: It was one of the first fics I read in this fandom and I fell in love with it. Plus the Brewers are in it and I love anything with the Brewers. 

Fic 3: Hammock by @maxbegone​ 

Why I like it: This fic makes me so fluffy inside. Early morning and snuggles are one of the best combinations. 

@brighter-than-sunshine​

Fic 1: Your Wings Prepare To Fly by @icmezzo 

Why I like it: I’m not the biggest fans of AUs/ Fantasy takes on fics, but the characterization of David and Patrick is so good here. It’s such a beautifully written fic, and I just couldn’t get enough of it when I first read it! A definite reread.

Fic 2: Today and All the Days that Follow by @unfolded73​

Why I like it: This one is one of my all-time favorites, because it explores so many of the relationships between all the characters… I especially love the bits including Stevie and Alexis. 

Fic 3: Little Reminders of our Love by @justwaiting23​

Why I like it: The whole idea of David and Patrick leaving each other notes was too adorable not to recommend this fic!

@danieljradcliffe​

Fic 1: Watching Through Windows by @helvetica-upstart​

Why I like it: Some fandoms have those fics that just inevitably change the game and define what fanfiction can be and for me, this is that fic for Schitt's Creek. It is a staple that everyone's read and continues to talk about and recommend a year after it was published; I'm sure we will continue to talk about it for years to come and to recommend it as new folks come into the fandom.

Fic 2: Until Now Gives Way to Then by swat117 

Why I like it: I just read this one-shot recently thanks to your (feel free to edit this how you need for your post) recommendation of their other fic, 'Exposed Brick.' This is a fic that (for me) completely captures why David and Patrick fit and work so well together and how their pasts have made it possible for them to be who they are as a couple in SC. I haven't read another fic that resonated with my own interpretation and appreciation of their relationship as much as this one. This author truly and completely sees them for all that they are.

Fic 3:  Red White and Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​  

Why I like it: I saw this fic published earlier this year and wanted to read it so badly but figured I should read the source material (Red, White, & Royal Blue) first so I did and absolutely fell in love with that book (who wouldn't?). I attribute this fic for inspiring me to read Casey McQuiston's book and so when I went to finally read it, I had extremely high expectations and even still, this fic exceeded them. The author does an amazing job of incorporating aspects of the original book (RWRB) while keeping the story true to the characters and relationships we know and love in Schitt's Creek. I read the entire fic in one sitting and then instantly, read it again. It is laugh out loud funny while being romantic as hell and keeps David and Patrick incredibly in-character throughout.

@darnitdraco​

Fic 1: Red White And Blue Jays by @grapehyasynth​

Why I like it: this fic is the reason I bought Red White and Royal Blue. Going into the fic, I didn’t know what the book was about so it was all new to me but it was great nevertheless. Now that im almost finished with the book, I love this fic even more. I know its an AU but I think the characters are written well and I pretty much love any fic when Rachel isn’t made out to be the bad guy. Its 13 chapters and I will 100% be rereading it after I finish the book. 

Fic 2: Nothing Burns Like The Cold by @wildxwired​

Why I like it: This is a one shot and definitely Patrick Centric. I thrive on Angst and Hurt/Comfort. I personally feel like it is Patrick coming to terms with a things he didn’t have control over and him getting closure on things of the past. I don’t want to give away too much of the plot but please read this guys!! 

Fic 3: sometimes good things fall apart by @blueink3 

Why I like it: I have reread this multiple times and it gets better each time. Its only 4 chapters but it isn’t rushed. As I said above, I THRIVE on angst and hurt/comfort. This has both, AND protective Patrick. It is a spin on what could’ve happened after the barbecue and it has a happy ending so don’t worry.

@imargaery​

Fic 1: Dodgeball is f*cking stupid by alldaydream

Why I like it: This is a one-chapter piece that comes in just under 6k and yet the author manages to build a super rich AU experience and tell a complete story that is at once heart-wrenching, sweet, sexy, and thematic. If you want angst that doesn’t last too long, that leaves you feeling warm and fuzzy, this is the one-shot for you. I go back to it as much as I go back to some of my favorite D&P scenes from the show.

Fic 2: if not for you by goingmywaydoll

Why I like it: When it comes to fanfiction about our boys, there’s almost nothing I love more than a high school AU. This is that. But it’s also a ROAD TRIP. What better scenario is there for a slow burn, mutual pining, dialogue heavy love story with plenty of bed sharing and nobody bothering them?

Fic 3: Beneath the Winter Snow by Distractivate

Why I like it: Can you tell I love a good AU? This one’s about the Olympics and it imagines a world in which Patrick and David have already fallen in love, had a relationship, and have broken up. This is a story about them finding their way back to each other--which isn’t hard because they have to be around each other all the time and work through their issues. It’s written with grace and thoughtfulness, and walking with Patrick and David as they learn to communicate with one another and work on healing makes the reunion that much more satisfying.

@justwaiting23​

Fic 1: hit me with your best shot by @ignisgayentia​

Why I like it: This is a bit of a random one but it has stuck with me ever since I read it. It’s a short little AU about David and Patrick meeting at a baseball game where Patrick is one of the players. It’s really sweet and does such a great job of keeping the voices in character, especially with the flirty teasing and awkwardness and is one of those fics I go back to over and over again.

Fic 2: Spills & Thrills by storieswelove

Why I like it: This is one in a series of ‘Meet-Uglies’ that the author has written which I adore but it’s my favourite one out of them. It has the perfect mix of awkward interactions which make you cringe and also really sweet and fond moments between the two of them.

Fic 3: You Can Plan on Me by odofidi

Why I like it: This is a sweet little piece of marital fluff about the first Christmas after the wedding. It fits exactly with my idea about what married life would be like for them and is really sweet, plus I always love it when the Brewers are able to see Patrick so genuinely in love with someone like that so it’s definitely one of my very favourites.

@leopxld-fitz​

Fic 1: best wishes, warmest regards (sent with confetti effect) by reymonova (costiellie)

Why I like it: This fic is just pure fun. The character voices are always perfect, and it’s such a nice addition to the series. This story is full of incredible one-liners and I think about “th*nk y*u” at least once a week. A must-read for anyone who loves a good Stevie-David friendship moment. 

Fic 2: Going Down by @concannonfodder​

Why I like it: This is a perfect AU. Rich David? Check. New York? Check. Patrick’s gay awakening? Check, check, check. This fic feels as real and in-character as any canon events of the show, and the author does an incredible job at lining up a love story for the ages all over again under completely different pretenses. Plus, who doesn’t love a “stuck in an elevator” trope? I would watch 10 movies based off of this.

Fic 3: I’ve Never Liked A Smile As Much As I Like Yours by hagface

Why you like it: I live for college AU’s, and this one doesn’t disappoint. I love how the author repositioned characters and events for a new setting, and David as a picky art major is all I ever could have hoped for. Character interactions are pitch perfect and there’s a true “paint me like one of your french girls” pining moment that was truly glorious. A great read!!

@lickrustdavid​

Fic 1: Tonight I’ll Drift in A Dream With You by torakowalski 

Why I like it: It’s rare to find such a well-written fic with a great family dynamic that makes you feel like you’re almost just reading a script for the actual show instead of an idea. There’s something soft and comforting about reading cohabitation with Alexis and David and Patrick doing there own things on separate sides of the motel room. 

Fic 2: A Week with the Brewers by @justwaiting23​ 

Why I like it: The dynamic with David and the Brewer’s is genuinely authentic and it’s made me flash back to some of my own experiences with partners parents. The fact that Patrick’s totally willing to have sex while his parents are there while David is mortified at the idea is also great and realistic. I feel like this fic also shows how partners grow and learn to communicate with one another and trust them. 

Fic 3: Welcome to Cabaret by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why you like it: The concept of David being more included in the whole Cabaret experience was something I definitely appreciated, since during the show I was kind of bummed with the lack of him. Stevie is wonderfully written in my opinion, and I really liked Patrick going on dates with the choreographer and watching David figure out how to cope. 

@loveburnsbrighter​

Fic 1: Small Projects by GCLane

Why I like it: My ultimate comfort fic.  Soft relationship feels and loving, passionate discussion of fiber arts, plus nuanced discussion of coming out and fitting in and what it means to be queer.  Also David trying new things and doing his best, which is also fun (he learns to knit!)

Fic 2: You and Me and This Temptation by @leupagus​

Why I like it: Another comfort fic!  Musician Patrick/manager David.  It's funny asf and super sweet at the same time.  Plus it does justice by Rachel, and made me totally love her.  Also, I was never sold on AUs of any kind and this is the fic that converted me.  I re-read it when I need cheering up and it never fails.

Fic 3: The Moment I Touched Down by rockinhamburger

Why you like it: Patrick learning about David's past and being the sweetest most sympathetic bean :(. This one is full of tragic backstory and good emotional hurt/comfort.  Super cathartic to read, and it makes me want to wrap David and Patrick both in big hugs and protect them from the world.

@maxbegone​

Fic 1: my heart was broke, my head was sore by @blueink3

Why I like it: This was the first fic I read since coming into the fandom. It’s canon-divergent, which, as it turns out, I kind of love. It’s so beautifully-written; a story about David meeting the Brewers much sooner than he anticipated, under unforeseen circumstances that take Patrick back to his hometown - and David is right along with him. And just like in every universe, Marcy Brewer is an angel.

Fic 2: Cleanser by @cypress-tree​

Why I like it: Hello and welcome to my comfort fic! This is just the most soothing story. It’s my wind-down fic, and every single time I read it, it makes me want to do my own in-depth skincare routine (that I already do morning and night). But it’s not just about that - it’s about Patrick taking a look at his identity as well. It’s all so tender and sweet, and so intimate in its own lovely way. David pampers Patrick a little bit and shows him that “femininity” and “masculinity” do not have rigid divides. And the first time I read this, I was wearing a mask from LUSH.

Fic 3: keep my spirit strong, you do by fishypots

Why you like it: Content warning; eating disorders, food issues. This hit me square in the chest. It resonated with me in a way I knew it would but struck so much more within me. By the end of it, I was smiling because of how represented I felt. I know this is a difficult topic for some, but I needed to share this fic. As someone with dysmorphia and struggles with disordered eating, it was such a comfort to read about David, who is a character so vulnerable and his partner who doesn’t pester him with questions. Instead he listens, he does a little research (it’s Patrick, of course he does), and remains by him. It’s all written so realistically and tenderly, and without any jabs or awkward nods toward body image. This will forever be at the top of my list.

@oceanavinfinity​

Fic 1: I Carry These Heart-Shapes Only to You by ladyflowdi, ships_to_sail

Why I like it: It is a work-in-progress au set in Paris during WWII. Patrick is a soldier on leave, and David is a gallerist who sailed to France to help Alexis (as usual). The characters are so, so true to canon, and the world building of Paris in that era will whisk you away from your current place. I love it.

@poorguysheadcanon​

Fic 1: bright lights by falconeggs (series)

Why I like it: my favorite schitts creek fic is definitely the series “bright lights” on ao3!

@ratchet​

Fic 1: In the Temple of Artemis by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: This story has Stevie exploring (with some help) the identifier of Aromantic after navigating what she thought were her romantic feelings for David. Really sensitively written, with a scene that almost perfectly puts into words my feelings about David & Stevie’s soulmate-esque relationship.

Fic 2: David Rose, Your Husband Is At Guest Services by @patricksdavid​ 

Why I like it: Husbands! At Costco! Giant muffins and comically large bags of doritos! 2071 words of pure domestic fluff! What more could you ask for?!

Fic 3: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it: Okay so. This is very new as part of the Reel Fic Fest, but I needed to include it. I love Wild, both the book & movie, and I am very much a “deal with my problems by hiking/biking in the forest” so this spoke to me immediately. Patrick and David meet as strangers hiking 1500 miles of the Pacific Crest Trail. There’s nature, pining in nature, tent shenanigans, tent emergencies! Stevie being an excellent friend from afar, a cribbage board, journaling, secret trail register entries, David in flannel, and an ever-present toque. It’s just a really satisfying and calming 30k words with literally 2 characters. I read it twice in 12 hours.

@roguebabyinyourstore​

Fic 1: Fifteen Hundred Miles by MoreHuman 

Why I like it:​ I like a good AU as much as the next person, but this one is just STUNNING. The descriptions of the pain and struggle endured by both men, both physical and emotional, was vibrantly visceral. David and Patrick’s relationship bloomed organically and you are hooked on their journey through the wilderness as they grow closer and eventually fall in love. Plus it’s Patrick’s POV. What’s not to love?

Fic 2: Getting Over Getting Older All The Time by Distractivate  

Why I like it:​ You’ve heard of slow burn? Well meet glacial burn. This masterpiece takes us through 10 years of friendship, of missed opportunities, of pining and heartbreak. But most importantly it shows what we all knew - David and Patrick will find their way to each other regardless of time and distance. Also Patrick’s POV, I sort of love Patrick Brewer.

Fic 3: You Could Be The One by bigficenergy 

Why I like it: ​I have a soft spot for early relationship David and Patrick. But almost no fic does it quite like this. This fic highlights points from our boys’ developing relationship scored by the incomparable Carly Rae Jepsen. This fic is so true to the characters, their voices and their story, that it’s all one giant headcanon for me. This fic is part 1 of a larger series and I highly recommend all of them.

@stuck-on-your-heart​

Fic 1: a kiss from a rose by mihaly ( @davidroseshusband​ )

Why I like it: This was the first multi-chapter fic I read when I joined the sc fandom, and I hadn’t read fic of any kind in over a year. It’s a brilliant story where Alexis stars in a reality-dating show. All the characters are portrayed so perfectly in this fic, and you can hear their voices in every piece of dialogue. It’s sweet, it’s hot, it’s everything you could want in an AU. This story helped me fall in love with fic again so it has a very special place in my heart. 

Fic 2: Rose’s Eleven by leupagus

Why I love it: This story honestly feels like a movie. I know the concept is based on a film franchise, but the writing in this fic is truly exquisite. It’s so complex and gripping, and there’s a heist which is always a good time. Despite the very different world these characters are in, they are still true to themselves, so it’s very exciting to see how they interact with one another in this universe. This is such a fun read from start to finish and just thinking about it makes me want to go back and read it again.

Fic 3: Simply the Vest by orphan_account

Why I love it: If you couldn’t tell, I’m obsessed with AUs. This fic is such a satisfying AU because it incorporates several tropes that we all know and love. In this story, Patrick is an FBI agent, and he has to go undercover as David’s boyfriend. So right off the bat there’s fake dating! And then it has pining because our boys are dumb! AND THEN it has a little smut if that’s your cup of tea. And while all this is happening, Patrick is being capable and looks very dashing in his FBI vest.

@thisbuildinghasfeelings​

Fic 1: Happy to help by @vivianblakesunrisebay​

Why I like it: This was the first Schitt’s Creek fic I fell in love with when I started exploring what was out there after bingeing the show for the first time. It’s basically a deep dive into Patrick’s POV from Motel Review through Grad Night. It really helped me appreciate Patrick as a character when I was fairly new to the show. I think I formed a lot of head canon regarding Patrick’s life and backstory based on the things I enjoyed in this fic. And it’s just incredibly well written.

Fic 2: turn down the lights, turn down the bed by @hudders-and-hiddles​ ( @wild-aloof-rebel​ )

Why I like it: I love this take on David and Patrick remaining just business partners until Rock On. I can be a bit of a canon purist, so I’m really picky when it comes to AU fic. However, there are actually quite a few I enjoy in this fandom. My favorite thing about this one is that it has the exact right amount of angst, to the point where it’s almost physically painful, but in the best possible way. Especially because you know how it’s going to end. This is angst with a happy ending executed perfectly. And it’s so good that it holds up to multiple rereads.

Fic 3: my heart was broke, my head was sore by blueink3

Why I like it: Another canon divergent AU that I love. This one diverges from canon after Grad Night, at which point Patrick has to go home for a family emergency and David goes with him. What I really love about it is how it puts Patrick in a position to be truly vulnerable and gives David the opportunity to kind of be the strong one and really take care of Patrick. This is something we don’t get to see to this extent in canon until maybe Meet the Parents, so it’s nice seeing it here so early in their relationship. Also, it’s just so beautifully written.

@vulcantastic​

Fic 1: no other version of me i would rather be tonight by wardo_wedidit

Why I like it: I’ve always enjoyed the concept of love languages, and it was so sweet watching David do so much for Patrick to show he loves him. Of course, it stems from fear and anxiety that David isn’t doing enough for Patrick (especially with Alexis egging him on), which reads very realistically to me. I think we as the audience tend to forget that David  has never had anything like this before, has never experienced the love of someone like Patrick. He’s still learning how to accept that love and return it, in his own unique ways. This fic does a great job of examining that.

Fic 2: Exposed Brick by swat117

Why I like it: To me this is the perfect “Patrick and David visit New York” fic. Patrick is characterized so beautifully here; we not only see how he aims to please throughout his relationship with David but in his interactions with Rachel and his family as well. I imagine there was a lot left unsaid on the show regarding Patrick’s uneasiness about moving to New York and David’s ultimate decision to stay with him in Schitt’s Creek--this is explored wonderfully here. Plus, as a new New Yorker, it was really nice to read about all the iconic places in and around Manhattan.

Fic 3: we’ll take the world together by sonlali

Why I like it: I am a sucker for stories that examine David and Alexis’ relationship before the start of the show. This fic in particular is heart-wrenching, touching on the trauma both siblings likely experienced before we as viewers knew them. I love the idea of David as protector of his younger sister, and to see that sentiment returned by Alexis now that they have grown (physically and emotionally) while living in Schitt’s Creek is beautiful to read.

@wlwbaudelaire​

Fic 1: you’re my peace and my quiet by chocobos

Why I like it: This fic is just so soft and sweet and always puts me in a good mood whenever I reread it. It’s wonderfully written and I can truly see this as an actual scene in the show. 

Fic 2: Terrified But The Truth is This by ryry_peaches ( @loveburnsbrighter​ )

Why I like it: As someone who’s had a headcanon that David is autistic since I started watching the show, this was the first fic I saw pertaining to it. I was happy to see how well it was portrayed, especially giving how poorly I’ve seen fics portray autism in other fandoms, and it even made me see the episode “Girls' Night” in a completely different light. 

Fic 3: Putting Down Roots by @this-is-not-nothing​

Why I like it: Absolute domestic fluff is my jam and this fic delivers it and then some. It gives me everything I could want in a post-canon fic where David and Patrick are happily married and living in their cottage.

Again, thank you to everyone who made this post possible! I am so happy we were able to spread some love and cheer to the fic writers of this community! Sending so much love to each and every one of you, and I’m hoping this provides some new material for the community to discover as well! 

[unabashegirl]

#1 “Kings of Leon” HS

Author’s Note: First Harry Styles imagine! Hope you like it! Request are open!

--

He leans against the frame of the entrance of the living room. He was locked away in the office for a few hours, trying to write something down in his journal for the day. It was until he heard the faint sound of music playing that he decided to leave the room and investigate the source of the ruckus.

It was her. The music sounds too familiar to him as he walks down the hallway. Kings of Leon play loudly throughout the entire house. He had discovered that it was her favorite band after the first few dates. That day after lunch, they had decided to go for a walk. They ran into a small music store where Y/N bought a Kings of Leon vinyl. She then proceeded to invite Harry to her small apartment for some coffee and to listen to the record together.

Her appearance captivates him. She dances around the living room without a single care in the world. She only wears a simple t-shirt over her bikini. Her hair is down and still wet from her previous dip in the ocean. She is attempting to air-dry it. She also holds tightly to a tall glass of Pina colada and tries her best not to spill it on the hardwood floor of the house, but she is still not holding anything back. He can see the small bruise forming on the side of her thigh. Last night Y/N had turned off the lights before getting in bed and had walked into the corner of their bed. Harry had to turn the lights back on with the switch beside the bed to go tend her. 

It is only their second day in the Caribbean, but they have both already managed to burn. Jamaica will always hold a very special place in Harry’s heart. He has enjoyed showing Y/N the best places to eat and loved her reaction after they had gone snorkeling.  After being in Japan for so long, he had only desired to spend sometime under the sun and away from the real world especially with her. It also didn’t take much convincing to get Y/N on the plane. 

In one of her twirls her eyes land on Harry, who is only staring at her while enjoying the view of her careless self. 

“What are you doing?” She breathlessly asks as she stops moving while Pyro plays in the background. It was one of her favorites songs. Y/N pushes her hair away from her face, her cheeks are blushed which only entices him to approach and kiss each of them.

“Just heard the music” He honestly just wants her to go back to dancing. He relishes watching her when she isn’t looking. It is mesmerizing for him. He had even sneaked into her office once for a  few hours before lunch just to watch her work. He would just tell her that he needed to finish some lyrics for a song and pretend to write in his journal. He loves seeing how she knits her eyebrows when she reads over her emails or how she fiddles with her pen as she tries to remember what she was about to write on a post-it. 

“I am sorry if I interrupted you” She kinda feels bad and flustered. She knows how important writing time it’s for him. It wasn’t her intention to disturb him in his sacred time. It is his alone time and it helps him to put all his thoughts in one place whether they are bad or good. While Harry walks over to the small bar and pours himself a glass of whiskey, she turns down the music with her phone. When he chooses his drink, he heads back and sits on his usual seat. She just stands around. 

“No need to apologize, kitten” Y/N has the habit of apologizing for things that aren’t her actual fault especially when she is around him. She is just terrified to piss him off and for him to send her off. After all, there is nothing binding them together. They have no commitment to one another. They weren’t even formally dating per se. Even though Harry whispers that she is his every time he makes love to her. 

“Did you get to write anything tho?” She pulls on the back of her shirt, trying to cover some skin. He knows how nervous he makes her feel and he can only blame himself for it. They had met in a time when Harry was fragile due to his past relationship. It was a few weeks before his departure to Japan. He had already bought the tickets and his team had already organized everything for him. In the following weeks, they had multiple dates. She invited him to her hot yoga and spinning classes in the morning. They would usually go out for breakfast or lunch after. He grew accustomed to having her around. He asked her to accompany him to Japan three days before his departure.

“This is something you need to do on your own,” She said that day to him while she held him tightly. That was the day, Harry knew that she was so different from all the girls that he had even gone out with him. It wasn’t only because she wasn’t a model and she was just like any other person, but because she truly cared for his mental health. “You need to recover and I think this will do you good” Y/N said a few hours before his departure. He had stopped at her apartment before leaving. He wanted to tell her how much he liked her and to wait for him.

It wasn’t easy for Y/N. After all, he was leaving the country to write about his ex, who he was still in love with. She took a step back after his departure and let him do his own things. If it was meant to be, it would happen without her having anything to do with it. It certainly was because the first place that Harry went to when he arrived was her apartment.

“I did” He smiles as he reached out for her hand. It had been mostly about her and their long passionates nights on the island. “Are you hiding from me?” Harry asks as he pulls her on his lap. She nervously shakes her head as she settles each of legs on either side of him. “How was the water?” He runs his fingers over her skin noticing the little specks of salt on her brand new tan skin. Harry had stayed in for their usual sunset dip. He had fallen asleep after making love to her and devouring a giant bowl of fruit with her in bed.

“Warm and kinda lonely” She pouts, wrapping her free hand around his neck then leans over and places her drink on a table. 

“We can’t have that can’t we?” Y/N smiles and shakes her head at him as she gently pulls on the curls at the back of his head. The skin of his cheekbones is slightly burned making him more irresistible. She had tried to apply sunscreen on his face, but he kept making faces. It only distracted her and she ended just laughing at him “I guess I won’t ever leave yeh again” Harry leans in and kisses her jawline gently. He can still smell the faint aroma of her carrot tanning lotion on her skin.  

She enjoys the coolness of his rings pressed against her bare lower back. She runs her hands on his chest noticing the soft material of the shirt that he has on. The living room slide doors are opened allowing the sound of the waves crashing soothe them along with the faint sound of her favorite band.

“I need to tell yeh something” he mumbles against her the salty skin of her neck. She immediately tenses up and goes cold. A million thoughts run through her head. Harry pulls away wanting to see her reaction. He takes a sip out of his drink and leans back on his seat. He still grips her hip in place wanting to keep some kind of content with her.

“What is it?” She gulps, silently playing that he wasn’t dumping her or sending her away.

“I first have to confess something. I told you I liked you before I left for Japan, do yeh remember?” Y/N nods along too scared to say something. She also feels like she was about to be sick. It might have to do something about the amount of rum that it’s running through her veins. “I was actually not sure if I did. I was hesitant. We had just met and I was leaving for a long time. I didn’t want to lose you. I lied”

“Why are you tell me all of this now?” She frowns not comprehending where he is going with this or what he is trying to tell her.

“For us to have a healthy relationship. I have to be honest with yeh from starters. We can’t build a relationship based on lies” He explains hoping she would get what he is trying to say and catch up.

“In that case, I actually didn’t lose your sweater” she confesses, “It's actually in my closet at home. It just reminds me of you” Harry laughs lightly showing her his pearly whites.

“I know babe” A few days ago he had seen it in her closet. “I think that you are absolutely beautiful inside out. I love how much you worry about little things, how you sing in the shower, how much you take care of your plants and even how your lips still taste like pineapple when I kiss them” he jokes at the end. He tries to keep it short even though there are still a million things he can mention about her.  “I guess I am trying t’ say is that you are worth having my heart broken a thousand times more if that means that I get to be around yeh” He watches as a wide smile appears across her face. She presses her lips against his. 

“Would you be my girlfriend?” She doesn’t say much but just repeatedly pecks her lips. Y/N was starting to grow impatient. She was starting to believe that their relationship would never move forward and she would remain to be just a friend who he occasionally has sex with until he found a girlfriend. 

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, silly” she giggles then proceeds to peck the tip of his nose. “I thought you were going to send me home for a minute” Y/N admits as she presses a hand against her chest. 

“No. You’re stuck with me now”  He is so infatuated with her that it wouldn’t surprise him if he tells her he loves her before the trip ends, but that is another story. 

[zorya-wellness]

Tarot and Books: TOP 10 Books on Tarot for Beginners that Will Help You Become a Professional FAST

It’s not a secret that nowadays, many start their Tarot journey by watching YouTube videos, Instagram IGTVs and Reels and simply reading posts on the internet or social media.

Are the books dead then?

They are absolutely not.

While all mentioned above provides with an enormous amount of information, this knowledge should not replace a proper education that includes courses and literature.

As someone who spent approximately 100 hours on educational COURSES ONLY, studying from various professional across the globe, I can still say that when I read a good book on Tarot, some aspects are mind blowing and eye opening.

At this time, there are so many different books available to purchase, both hard copy and electronical. Some give away their books and guides for free, while others come up with beautiful Tarot decks in addition to their published work.

What I’m really trying to say here is that for a beginner it will be difficult to figure out which book is worth investing in and which one is a waste of money.

For example, does a beginner need “The Complete Book of Tarot Reversals” by Mary Greer? What about “365 Tarot Spreads: Revealing the Magic in Each Day” by Sasha Graham? Does a beginner really need all these spreads when they are just starting out getting familiar with the energy of the cards?

Let’s figure it all out.

Does A Beginner Tarot Reader Need to Read Educational Books?

Of course, educational Tarot literature is necessary for beginners, especially those who are barely familiar with Major Arcana Tarot cards meanings. You need to understand key symbols, variations of interpretations and combinations.

On the other hand, here is something you need to be mindful of: nowadays SO MANY Tarot readers and authors start writing books based on their own PERSONAL views, interpretations and “author’s created techniques and methods” that sometimes they start to deviate from traditional card meanings and interpretations.

Is it good or bad?

Neither, really. When you advance in Tarot, you will start feeling each card in your own way and may also see some aspects slightly differently and that’s quite normal. BUT for a beginner it’s just not good at all.

When you are just being introduced to the world of Tarot, I always suggest that you stick to the classics. You just can’t go wrong with a traditional Tarot deck and a few good books to support your education.

RELATED POSTS: TAROT FOR BEGINNERS: HOW TO BECOME A GOOD TAROT READER: My 3 Tips for Beginner Tarot Readers

Author’s opinion can certainly broaden horizons, improve and stroke your imagination, and really explain how the traditional meaning of the card can be expanded.

On the other hand, some beginners that don’t want to invest in proper education, may take this “point of view” as the holy truth and the only way to interpret the card.

As a result, their readings will be of poor quality and it will take time for them to understand why.

It’s important to mention that some of the books that come as a package with a Tarot deck are a true masterpiece and also a must-have when you are working with their deck. And truly, in my humble opinion, you should only buy a deck that comes with such book and not the teeny tiny black and white book that gets lost in your drawer.

Lastly, I���ll say that the best and most perfect Tarot book is the one that ignites your imagination, inspires you to learn and practice, and really helps you to believe in your abilities and trust your intuition.

What Types of Tarot Books Will You Find on The Market?

Before I give you the list of my Top Tarot books, let me explain to you what you can learn from them.

Tarot literature should be divided in the following categories:

· “Base” Books: these are your “must read” books that will help you to understand the cards well and really feel each card. They will contain practical examples and advice, as well as useful spreads with guidelines. These are the Tarot books I will be focusing on below in this Blog post.

· “Additional” Books: these Tarot books provide with additional materials to improve and deeper understand Tarot from all the different angles, mystical and occult studies.

Some examples would include numerology, Kabbala, astrology, reversed Tarot cards, Tarot and Ritual Magic, as well as some author’s unique techniques for using Tarot. An example could be creating a psychological portrait of a person using Tarot cards.

These are definitely NOT must haves for Tarot beginners but you can selectively purchase them later on based on your interests and also gaps in your knowledge.

I included reversed Tarot cards in this section because MANY Tarot readers, myself included, do not read cards reversed. It is absolutely not a must and you can give quality readings just the same without reading reversals. In fact, I’ve noticed that they tend to scare the beginners off from learning Tarot because people find them confusing.

· Literature That Comes With a Deck: this is something I have already briefly touched on in this Blog post. These books are written by a person that created a Tarot deck and wishes to make sure that a person using it, understands where they are coming from and should the meaning deviate from the original, it would be explained in a great detail why and what it means for you.

RELATED POSTS: TAROT FOR BEGINNERS: STARTING WITH BASICS. HOW TO CHOOSE A TAROT DECK that is right for YOU.

A good example of this is using Tarot: Journey into Egypt Tarot deck that is absolutely gorgeous and one of my favorites. This deck is definitely NOT suitable for beginners. Not only there are variations of card meanings based on the history of Ancient Egypt, the creator of the deck chose to switch Fire and Air elements in Wands & Swords suites and this dramatically changes how you would read the elements energy in a spread.

What Are Some of The Best Tarot Books for Beginners?

I want to just put it out there: these are some of MY PERSONAL TOP books for beginners and some Tarot readers may disagree with me and have their own list.

I trust that you have read some of my other blogs or have been following me on Instagram for a while to really establish a connection and understand what type of a Tarot Reader I am.

“The Key to the Tarot” which was later expanded and republished as “The Pictorial Key to the Tarot” by Arthur Edward Waite

These books are mentioned first because most people start their Tarot journey using a traditional Rider-Waite Tarot deck.

The book "The Key to the Tarot" describes symbolical and divination meanings for Rider-Waite Tarot deck and they are offered by the creator of the deck himself.

This really is the SOURCE for your Rider-Waite Tarot studies and a Tarot beginner should never skip this book because no one can give you better information than the creator.

Whether you are going to use Tarot for divination, meditation or magical and ritual work, this is your NUMBER 1 BOOK.

"The Holy Kabbalah" by Arthur Edward Waite

Now, IF you are planning on sticking with Rider-Waite deck for some time and work as a professional Tarot reader with clients, you should really consider "The Holy Kabbalah" book.

You probably heard people ditching this deck because it is highly "kabbalistic,” but this is some very powerful and ancient stuff and you really need to consider this before you switch this deck for some rainbows and unicorns.

This book by Arthur Waite is a very rich in information and well documented source. 

"The Ultimate Guide to the Rider Waite Tarot" Book by Evelin Burger and Johannesburg Fiebig

This book is my absolute favourite companion to this day. I have mentioned it before in my other blog post because I am so in love with it, I feel like it is worth preaching about it again and again.

I was actually quite hesitant to purchase it.

It was my FIRST Tarot book and I bought it together with my first deck! So, here it is my absolute beginner book suggestion from a perspective of a beginner!

I have no regrets about purchasing it. I referred to it a thousand times while I was studying cards and here is why.

It was always my goal to become a professional. And I believe that as a professional you need to know your cards inside out.

And you can’t really do this without understanding properly WHAT IS ON THOSE CARDS!

What does the tree mean? What about a blue colour? Is this an astrological symbol?

You NEED to know these things! Because this blue colour or astrological symbol of Venus repeat thought the deck and unite the cards that contain them.

You will be able to truly know your deck when you know those symbols. And it’s the same thing with any deck. If you go with Thoth Tarot, you will need to spend some time learning about Alchemy because this was Crowley’s thing. And if you want to use Rider-Waite deck, you will need to learn his techniques and methods.

In this case, this book is your best friend.

The book gives a short description for each important element of the Tarot card. It also gives a short basic meaning of the card AND its meaning as a card of the day which is amazing because most beginners start to practice Tarot by pulling their daily card and journaling it.

Lastly, which I think is great, is that it gives Tarot card’s meaning in love and relationship. And let’s be real, relationship questions comprise 70% of all Tarot reading, if not more.

"Secrets of the Waite-Smith Tarot: The True Story of the World's Most Popular Tarot" by Marcus Katz

This book is considered to be one of the best on the market for Rider-Waite Tarot.

From this book we can learn more about the lives of Pamela Smith (the artist of the deck) and Arthur Waite.

Just when I started reading this book, I could already feel so immersed in the world of Waite's Tarot. The author of this book did an incredible research job to put all this information together.

This book has it all, from descriptions of each Arcana and examples of spreads and understanding how to use them, to the lives of two great people that gave us the most used Tarot deck of all time.

You will really feel being a part of the wonderful world of Tarot after reading this book.

“21 Ways to Read a Tarot Card” by  Mary K Greer

Mary K Greer has come with a truly unique and wonderful method that gives you 21 ways to interpret each Tarot card.

Just as the Fool travels through “The Journey of the Hero”, the author offers anyone to join the journey and experience the transformational power of Tarot.

You will learn the mysteries and wisdom of Major Arcana and live through the cards to deeply connect with them and understand their true meanings.

Mary K. Greer shares her personal and unique knowledge and approach to Tarot that in turn will help you to get the answers to the most important questions using Tarot cards.

What is most encouraging is how she  really draws out from your heart all those hidden negative patterns and emotions and guides you on how to turn them into positivity and growth.

The author also helps you to create your own new reality and encourages you that no matter where you are right now in your life, you can always start your journey again from scratch and accomplish your goals.

To sum up, the book will teach you the following:

· How to create and maintain a Tarot journal properly (throughout the years of my work with Tarot beginners, I have noticed that many start Tarot journals but don’t seem to go through with them for a long time).

· It will teach you the author’s own method of learning each card and obtaining additional information when necessary that still is applicable for your traditional cards use.

· The book will provide you with rather novel ways and methods of Tarot spreads interpretations.

· It will really broaden and deepen your understanding of each card which in turn will help you to interpret combinations better.

I personally think that this book is a real gift to those trying to become good Tarot readers from the start, but also to those who want to improve the quality of their own life and relationships with others.

The book of Mary K Greer 21 “Ways to Read a Tarot Card” is not only about studying the cards, like most others, it’s also about how to transform your life with Tarot.

And, honestly, lately I have seen a lot of beginner Tarot Instagram profiles of people trying to use Tarot to get through trauma, loss and challenges. But people tend to give up quickly because all they do is read cards daily for themselves and if this is all you do, trust me, you will get bored quickly.

This book will help you on this journey and will teach you how to use Tarot for transformation, growth and happiness.

Tarot for the Healing Heart: Using Inner Wisdom to Heal Body and Mind by Christine Jette

The book focuses on the utilization of your inner wisdom to heal your mind and body.

It is a very powerful book written by a nurse with 30+ years of work experience, bachelor in Psychology and a professional energy healer and a Tarot reader.

Wow don’t you think she’d have a lot to tell??

Because she definitely does.

Her focus is using Tarot cards for healing and, in particular self-healing.

So often I see people trying to use Tarot to overcome trauma, to heal their body and soul and they just struggle to figure out how to do this.  

While I mentioned Mary K. Greer teaching somewhat similar things in her book, this one really expands the subject of healing.

The symbology of Tarot carries the healing messages that can activate and kick start self-healing processes in your body, ultimately guiding you to becoming whole again. And feeling whole is what paves a path to healing.

And in this book, healing process is divided into 4 levels by the 4 Suites of Minor Arcana in Tarot: physical (Pentacles), emotional (Cups), psychological (Swords) and spiritual (Wands).

By using symbology and Tarot spreads provided, you will be able to get information on which level is blocked and what you need to do to lift this block and allow energy to flow freely again.  

“Tarot Tips” by Ruth Ann Amberstone, Wald Amberstone

This books is very unique in a way that it’s is more of a Q&A writing style.

The Authors Ruth Ann Amberstone and Wald Amberstone at this time have over 70 years of Tarot experience and are founders of The Tarot School.

The Tarot Tips books is composed of techniques and methods of work with Tarot cards. It contains information and very clear answers to 78 real questions that were asked by the Tarot readers from the various Tarot schools and backgrounds.

It will be equally beneficial to a beginner and an advanced Tarot practitioner.

If you are a beginner, the book will give you some incredible insights, ideas and recommendations on how to use Tarot.

This wraps up my list for some MUST have Tarot books that every Tarot beginner should read.

Thoth Tarot Books

Of course, it’s necessary to mention Thoth Tarot, particularly for those who are starting with it their Tarot journey. While I myself don’t recommend this, I have met those who used Thoth Tarot deck from the very beginning. There are way too many books on Thoth Tarot, so I want to tell you which ones I do AND do not recommend.

Recommend:

“The Book of Thoth” by Aleister Crowley

It is always best to start with the book written by a person who created the deck. Even though not all deck creators are the best writers and the books can be tedious and, at times, difficult to follow, you should still give them a chance. You should also check out other books by Crowley because he really was an incredible person. 

"Understanding Aleister Crowley's Thoth Tarot" by Lon Milo DuQuette

This is also a very good work and is absolutely worth a purchase. The book gives cards descriptions and elements that Crowley added or changed based on his vision and work he’s been doing during his life.

Books I do NOT recommend:

“Tarot: Mirror of the Soul: Handbook for the Aleister Crowley Tarot” Book by Gerd Ziegler

“Keywords for the Crowley Tarot” Book by Brigitte Theler and Hajo Banzhaf

These books I would recommend to avoid amongst others “best sellers” for Thoth Tarot, due to the many inaccuracies and wrong interpretations. I don’t blame some of the authors. Thoth Tarot is not easy to understand and not everything was explained by Crowley himself, but you can clearly see that some people haven’t even tried.

"Tarot and Astrology: Enhance Your Readings With the Wisdom of the Zodiac" Book by Corrine Kenner

I want to also suggest you a few books that I would include into my "Additional literature" section because if you want to really dedicate your time to study Tarot on a professional level, sooner or later you will get into other aspects that are integral parts of divination.

Astrology has a very big influence on Tarot and I think Corrine Kenner has done an amazing job to put everything together for the reader.

The book starts with Astrology basics with regards to Tarot but also talks about the twelve signs of zodiac and the planets.

I personally offer 12 Houses of Astrology Tarot reading every year in December and it's always a huge success because it is an extremely informative and fun reading, so a book like this helped me to connect even deeper with Astrology.

Some actually use Astrological aspects of Tarot to predict and plan dates, so if that's something you are interested in, this book will also be very helpful for you.

Bonus Book 📚✨

"Understanding The Tarot Court" Book by Mary K. Greer and Tom Little

Lastly, I want to include this book because we all know that Courts cards tend to be the most difficult to understand and interpret in a Tarot reading.

While some think that Court cards solely describe a specific person, the authors of this book give a suggestion on how to use these 16 cards as a tool to describe different variations and sides of personalities of the querent and people in their life.

Whichever method you choose to follow, this book has a massive amount of information and will definitely make your Tarot journey so much easier.

[westallenfun]

A Most Unexpected Love, Chapter 2

WestAllen secret santa gift  

From: @jade4813

For: @sophisticatedloserchick

Author Notes: For the lovely @sophisticatedloserchick from @jade4813! Merry Christmas, and I hope you like my first fic after a long hiatus!

Title: A Most Unexpected Love

Rating: PG

Synopsis: Iris has loved Eddie Thawne Allen her entire life. When she returns home just before Christmas, it looks like she might finally have a chance to catch his eye…unless an accident puts his older brother, Barry, directly in her path. Story inspired by Sabrina (with some quotes lifted more or less directly from the source material).

Chapters: 2/7

Chapter Two

Iris squinted at the glare of the sun reflecting off the fallen snow, pulling a pair of sunglasses out of her purse and sliding them on before grabbing the handle of her suitcase and giving it a tug. It had been a long journey, but she was finally home, arriving just in time for the holidays. Her father was supposed to pick her up, but she’d jumped at the opportunity to take an earlier flight than originally scheduled. It would make a tremendous surprise for him, she decided upon landing, and so she walked purposefully toward the taxi station, rather than calling to update him on her change of plans.

The drive didn’t take long, but she still needed to stretch some kinks out of her muscles when she stepped out of the car and fixed the Allen house with a critical eye. It looked almost exactly as it had in her memory, though it appeared someone had affixed the shutters with a new coat of paint at some point in the three years since she’d last stood in this spot. She’d missed this place, she realized, as well as all the people who worked there. Not to mention Eddie. She could never forget how much she’d missed Eddie.

But Eddie wasn’t her primary concern at the moment. She ran a hand down the fabric of her skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. She wanted to look her best for her first meeting with her dad. Of course, they’d seen each other numerous times over the last three years. He’d come to visit her at school, and they Facetimed at least once a week. But this was her first time coming home as a college graduate – and an adult woman who had proved herself capable of running her own life. She wanted to make him proud.

Thanking the driver, she passed him a tip before grabbing her bag, pulling it behind her as she approached the house. It was rather heavy, so she pulled it to the side of the house, where it would be out of the way until she could retrieve it later. Then she stepped indoors on a quest to find her father.

Knowing he often stopped by the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, she decided to head in that direction first. On the way, she heard the clattering of balls knocking together in the game room and peered in on her way past, curious to know who was inside. Her heart skipped a beat when she caught her first glimpse of Eddie, his tousled blond hair falling expertly across his forehead as he leaned over to line up his cue stick with the ball. As though sensing her presence in the doorway, he glanced up and straightened abruptly at the sight of her, his eyes growing wide.

“Wow. I mean, hi,” he greeted her with that boyish grin that had captured her heart so many years before.

Feeling a little shy, as she always did in his presence, she threw him a small smile. “I don’t mean to disturb you. I was just looking for someone.”

“Whoever it is, I’m happy to pretend I’m him if it means you stick around,” he reassured her hastily, setting his pool cue aside.

The obviousness of his pickup line, combined with the headiness that his attention was focused on her for a change and the astonishment that he didn’t seem to recognize her, made her laugh. “I’m afraid not,” she said, pulling off her sunglasses so she could get a better look at him. How could he not know her? Granted, it had been a few years, but they’d grown up together, and she didn’t think she’d changed that much.

But still, while she was a little disappointed in his continued ignorance of her identity, she was warmed by the gaze he swept over her body. “Let me guess…you’re looking for Barry. He’s always had all the luck. Well, today is also your lucky day because he happens to be my brother. So I’m pretty much the same thing, right?”

As he teased her, he threw her another one of his devastating grins, prompting her to laugh again. “I don’t think so,” she said, shaking her head. As tempted as she was to linger and bask in the glow of his flirtation, she couldn’t wait to see her dad, so she took a step back, intending to walk away.

Eddie wasn’t content to let her go, as he bounded after her. Taking position by her side, he walked with her as he chided her gently, “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh? And here I was, hoping we could get to know each other better.”

Iris threw him a wry look out of the corner of her eye. “Really? And here I was, thinking you just liked the chase but you wouldn’t know what to do with me if you caught me.”

“That is categorically untrue!” he protested, feigning offense. Reaching out, he grabbed her hand gently, and Iris thrilled in the warmth of his touch. “But, you know, I won’t be able to prove that to you if you don’t let me catch you.”

“I suppose that’s true,” she conceded, humoring him. Then, succumbing to curiosity, she pressed, “You really don’t recognize me?”

She knew full well that Eddie wasn’t a good enough actor to feign the surprise that crossed his features. “Why? Should I? I can’t imagine we’ve ever met. I’d definitely remember you.”

“You might be surprised,” she returned in a dry tone.

Eddie might have lost the battle, but he wasn’t about to concede the war. Instead, he pressed, “Well, that’s all the more reason for you to give me a chance. I tell you what. We’re having a Christmas party here tonight at eight o’clock. Say you’ll come. We can catch up on old times, just the two of us.”

Chuckling, Iris shook her head. “You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, secretly pleased with his efforts. After all these years, he’d finally noticed her. He was finally chasing after her. Perhaps it was small of her to revel in their altered circumstances, but recognizing that fact did nothing to change it.

“Nope,” he replied with a shameless grin.

Iris nodded. “All right. I’ll see you tonight. Eight o’clock.” His display of elation at her agreement didn’t even come close to that which she secretly felt. She managed to hide her smile until she walked away and turned a corner. Then it was all she could do to bite back her shriek of joy. It was all she’d ever hoped for, catching Eddie’s eye, and the reality was so far better than she’d even imagined.

That night, Iris gave her reflection one more critical look before leaving her room and heading to the party. Her dad had been overjoyed to see her, but his happiness had been diminished slightly when he’d heard about her interaction with Eddie. She knew he was just worried about her; he’d never approved of her attachment to the younger Allen son. Though he loved the family and would give his life for any of them, he’d confessed he didn’t think Eddie was good enough for her, but she’d always dismissed his opinion as being clouded by paternal affection and a life-long overprotective streak.

His concern did nothing to diminish her excitement, and so she’d shrugged it off as she’d dressed into one of her favorite gowns, obtained during her studies abroad. Floor-length and deep red in color, it was strapless, with a chiffon skirt and beaded top with a sweetheart neckline. It was the perfect dress for a holiday party, and – more importantly – she knew it would draw Eddie’s eye.

She was almost skipping with joy as she walked into the party, her eyes sweeping over the crowd looking for one face in particular. But it wasn’t Eddie who caught her eye first; it was Bartholomew. Tall and lanky – and able to wear a tuxedo like he was born into it, even more than his brother (though it seemed traitorous of her to think so) – he’d always stood out from a crowd. She’d recognize him anywhere, even when his back was to her as it was now. She watched as the tall redhead before him said something to him, nodding toward Iris in the doorway. He turned to follow her gaze, his face breaking into a heart-warming smile when he caught sight of Iris.

She watched as he said something to his companion and then raced toward her, stopping barely a foot away. For just a moment, she thought he was going to pull her into a hug, but he didn’t. Instead, he smiled at her warmly and cried, “Iris! You’re home? Why didn’t you come by and say hi? How was your trip?”

Before she could answer, Eddie appeared as though out of nowhere, stepping in front of his brother. “You came!” he said gleefully. “I wasn’t sure you would.” When Bartholomew cleared his throat, Eddie stepped to the side and looked at his brother in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I – wait, do you two know each other?”

Bartholomew looked at his brother in confusion and concern. “You’re kidding, right? It’s Iris.” When Eddie didn’t seem to register the name, he prodded, “West? Joe’s daughter?”

Eddie’s head whipped around in surprise. “What, really? Iris?” As his gaze swept over her again, understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pulled her into a tight hug. “Oh my god, it’s so good to have you back! Now you really have to dance with me. Let’s go.”

He grabbed her hand and started to pull her away, and she was more than happy to follow, but his brother intervened. Clearing his throat, he moved slightly into Eddie’s path and cautioned him, “Is this really a good idea? How is Patty—”

Eddie cut him off. “Barry, I know that you excel at being a stick-in-the-mud, and you’re twenty-five going on eighty. But it’s a party! Surely you can go bore someone else? Iris just got here.” It was the first time in her entire life that she could recall being so taken aback by or disagreed with Eddie’s behavior, and when he grabbed her hand to pull her onto the dance floor, she hung back. Finally, her reluctance seemed to get through to him, because he stopped to ask her what wrong.

“I know he’s your brother, and the two of you…well, you don’t always get along. But that was unfair. He a little serious, but he isn’t a bad guy,” she reprimanded him gently.

He grimaced. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry.” He gave her another one of his boyish grins, which had gotten him out of trouble over his entire life. “I’ll apologize to him later, too. But for right now, I really do want to dance with you.”

Iris almost protested, but then she was in his arms and he was sweeping her around the dance floor, and it was better than she’d ever dreamed. She felt herself get lost in his eyes, barely noticing when the song changed to something soft and slow and he pulled her closer, tempting her to rest her head on his shoulder.

“You know what I want?” he murmured in her ear. “I want to dance with you.”

“You are dancing with me,” she shot back with a slight laugh.

His grin was unrepentant. “I want to dance with you alone. It’s too public here; we can’t really talk.” Then, as though the idea had just occurred to him, he added, “Hey, there’s something you should see.”

She’d seen him pick up enough women that she knew what he was about to suggest. He was going to suggest that she meet him in his mother’s solarium. He would meet her there with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and they would dance under the twinkling lights that were undoubtedly strung along the ceiling in observance of the upcoming holiday. While they danced, he would woo her with his words, and then they would kiss. Just because it was a scene she knew had played out dozens of times didn’t means she didn’t want to be a part of it.

“Okay,” she breathed, swaying toward him.

“Meet me in my mom’s solarium?” He paused, grimacing, as he realized that she wasn’t like most of the women he courted in this manner. “Oh, I just realized…you’ve probably already seen my mom’s solarium, huh?”

Afraid this hitch in his plans would cause him to grow skittish, she reassured him, “But I haven’t seen it in years! Will you show it to me?”

“I’d love to.” He danced her closer to the exit and came to a stop, though he didn’t immediately release her. “Head over, and I’ll follow you in a minute. I want to grab a bottle of champagne first.”

“Sure,” she breathed, watching with a wistful smile as he stepped away. The entire stroll to the solarium, she felt like she was walking on air.