#i love having this little space for myself !! but its so so lonely on tumblr :<

[lovedazai]

if uve ever sent me an ask on anon i love u w my whole heart

[morbidlychubese]

Resubmitting this ask just in case it was the one Tumblr ate. If its not then I guess you can ignore it like the last one. Either way I hope you have a wonderful day.

<--------------->

Fedee splitting open your wedding dress??? I fucking love it.

I can imagine you, Just bearly able to waddle down the isle. Having to use a walker or cane or something, being completely exhausted and out of breath by the time you make it to the alter, where I'm waiting for you. Absolutely no one expects your massive Fatass to stand, so there's a reinforced stool for you to sit on.

Your dress looks Painfully tight on your poor fat Fecund Blubber Gut. Yes Fecund, I decided 11 months ago that I wanted my bride to waddle down the isle with a belly full of my squiming brood. Its not my fault that due to scheduling issues our ceremony  had to be postponed and you had to hold them in an extra 2 months.

Anyway, Our lovechildren aren't the only thing that are bloating out your Blubber Gut today. You think you're soo cleaver. You think that you've stuffed your fat face as much as you possibly could before waddling down the isle and that No One would be able to tell under your vail. I can see through it, hell I can smell it on you. You fat fucking piglet, your mouth is covered in food from your gorging yourself.

Fortunately for you, my sole response to your shameless, disgusting, debased, glutinous, debauchery is Beaming Pride and animalistic lust.

However Pride cometh before the fall, and juuust when you thought you made it to the alter, and are gonna sit down on the stool, thats when it happens.

Your packed full stomach is working hard on your latest meal, as well as your stuffed full Guts are working on the massive meal you had this morning. All this squeezing into too small wedding dresses, and waddling down isles isn't very good for the digestion, so you overworked guts start fighting for more space. Unfortunately for you this wakes up the kids and they start fighting for space as well.

And thats when your pretty little dress loses the war.

⛔ 👗 ⛔

Your dress explodes and while your milk bloated blubber tits are still contained, but from the bust down your dress is naught but tattered ribbons.

The kids take this newfound freedom as an invitation to start playing hackey sack with your prostate, again 🙄. As usual, this makes you involuntarily cum buckets all over the church floor.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen all scramble to cobble together something from the ribbon scraps to cover you with. They eventually peace together a makeshift loincloth to cover you. The front of wich is soon complete drenched by your nonstop emissions.

Our children continue their relentless Assault on your prostate throughout the ceremony. Your bloated belly visibly writhing with their movements. Their all out attack forces you to shoot rope after rope after rope of ejaculate endlessly as the ceremony progresses. Soon the small puddle grows into a larger pool that all the bridesmaids and groomsmen are forced to stand in.

Only the preist, due to the pulpit is spared the 'rising waters'. A lone island of dry land surrounded by the still growing sea of your emissions.

Your thoughts?

It was this one! Thank you!!

I think this is my dream wedding. So utterly embarrassing to be so blissfully indulgent in front of so many people. I'm already round and gravid from you, and I'd have stuffed myself until I reeked like fast food. That's definitely a part of why I explode hehe. That, and being to fat to walk, but being made to waddle anyway. Using my tree trunk thighs for the very last time in front of everyone who thought they knew me. So fucking wonderful.

Also, I would totally read this if it were a kink short story

[fanfixes]

Going down the Rabbit Hole & Why being a Fan Girl is sorta a Saving Grace

How it all began:

I’ve been on Tumblr for years. It started in high school, about 7 years ago and I’ve opened and deactivated multiple accounts across this period of time. There’s some sorta pattern that flows with my sudden resurgence each phase and a licensed therapist would declare it a coping mechanism - and I’d agree.

But it is what it is, isn’t it - an escape. If I could trace FURTHER back, to when I watched my first movie and “escaped” I probably understand why writing fan-fict, deconstructing characters, spending hours reading about other works of the same lengthened that space to ignore the outside world and its mischiefs.

And funnily enough, Tumblr has always provided this safe space. Twitter, Instagram, Facebook doesn’t cut it for me. The kind of security I receive from this platform is different - I feel heard yet not exposed and I can’t put my finger on it but its just... it’s special. 

It’s a place for creatives, the lonely girls, the hyperactive ones who need to let that energy out onto a page and interact with people who could appreciate their fanaticism. It’s a shared experience, yet also somewhat, incredibly personal.

Coming home:

About a year ago, I lost someone very important to me. This was during a time where there was already so much loss. Grief settled in the air and as I felt my consolations unworthy of attention seeing that everyone had someone they lost, I kept it in, “soldiered through”. My friends checked on me, and they created this list of stuff for me to watch BUT while I sifted through the recommendations, there was a sort of anticipatory anxiety attached to the idea of starting new shows / movies, so I didn’t.

My biggest mistake was pouring myself into my work which felt natural since most of my nights were spent finalising assignments and my days were spent answering my employers. That fragment of curiosity, imagination and fantasy that lived in me dwindle off and can I just say, it was probably one of the dullest times of my life. It was a disappointing time to be alive. 

Work was definitely an excuse, because the first time I tried relaxing, it was chaotic. And I felt awkward trying to be something I wasn’t and allowing myself to be someone I was. 

The Viscount who Loved Me:

It started with Bridgerton, and knowing a little about the show, as I mentioned before in my previous posts, I could somewhat tame that anxiety I had in starting anything new. And GOD did it pay off. 

I loved what they did with Bridgerton. I identified with Kate, I could understand Anthony’s loss and as a struggling artist myself, I got what Benedict was going through. I connected with the show in ways I didn’t think I could. 

There was so much character complexities to drown yourself into and as someone figuring herself out, being able to watch parts of yourself interact with parts of yourself started conversations I wouldn’t have had, if I didn’t first see it. 

That’s sorta how writing fan-fict came about. I couldn’t get Benedict out of my head, so I put him on paper. I devoured the Bridgerton series and well, tweaked the fict to fit my idea of what I’d love to see play out. 

CAST INTERVIEWS & Thank you Luke Thompson:

Cast interviews were somewhat instructive, not just about the characters they played or the dynamic but, being able to just tap into what made the characters their own felt therapeutic. 

Luke Thompson has this interview on the YouTube Channel “An Actor Despairs” and it is my favourite interview of the year. It was inspiring to hear him talk about his journey and that raw dedication to his work renewed my mind on what it was I wanted from my life. How I wanted to build it. How to allow myself to just go with the flow and live.

So it was clear that falling in love with a show came with the territory of falling in love with the actors, especially when they are so passionate about their work. 

That to me, is what differentiates their job from being just entertainment to becoming a vocation. 

You do learn a lot about life and personalities when you are working on these projects. Just diving into An Offer from a Gentlemen for the sake of the fict I wrote, brought me into seasons of understanding Benedict beyond what was written.

Coupled with my deeper dive of Luke Thompson’s process allowed me to get where he was coming from and provided a clearer vision on what Benedict meant to the Bridgerton storyline.

Robert Aramayo nerd-ing out:

Robert Aramayo, is the second actor this year who’s looped me into his vortex. He just fell in love with the legendarium (as he often says) and poured himself into becoming Young Elrond, so much so, that they now feel like two separate individuals. Rob Aramayo disappeared into the world Rings of Power created and as I go through Tolkien’s works now, I can understand why he was so engrossed with it in the first place.

Both these actors made me appreciate acting for more than just the shallow concept I used to have of it - reading lines and conveying those conversations in a convincing enough manner to not look fake. I didn’t appreciate the art enough to get it many years before, but now that I do, it’s such a beautiful form of expression and self-identification.

I can’t help but be engrossed in these new worlds, in my private space and love it for what it makes me feel. I am thankful for all the creations and different forms of entertainment they bring and the heartfelt discussions on the characters which remind us of some people we meet or are. Bridgerton and Rings of Power aren’t the only shows I’ve watched the whole year, I have to add - ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING about this universe of ART, FANTASY & MOVIES/SERIALS are what make people feel alive, are what made me feel alive.

As John Keating said in Dead Poet’s Society:

“WE READ AND WRITE POETRY BECAUSE WE ARE MEMBERS OF THE HUMAN RACE. AND THE HUMAN RACE IS FILLED WITH PASSION. AND MEDICINE, LAW, BUSINESS, ENGINEERING, THESE ARE NOBLE PURSUITS AND NECESSARY TO SUSTAIN LIFE. BUT POETRY, BEAUTY, ROMANCE, LOVE, THESE ARE WHAT WE STAY ALIVE FOR.”

We dive into these worlds of imagination because of its relationship with our minds, these are what gives life a meaning. The mechanics of making money, succeeding in the financial and lucrative sense is monotonous and dry - there’s nothing much to it but stacks of papers and detachable figures. There is nothing more exciting than finding something to be excited about and as the days passed, I realised I wanted to be more in touched with a part of me that I felt needed to be suppressed after surpassing a certain age. That inner child shouldn’t have to vacate the premise simply because I’m 25. After all, I was probably the closest to being my truest self back then than I am today. And I wouldn’t have known it... if not for this saving grace.

[londonspirit]

2022. 

Well, it has been a year indeed. 

Talk about rollercoaster. 

Looking back, two things immediately come to mind: the loss of my father, and OFMD. 

Yeah, I know, that’s some insane comparison. 

But once again, fandom helped me through real life horrors.

Losing dad was hard, but (yes, there’s a but) overall it was a relief. He’s been sick and weak for a while, and everyone who only remotely knew him, knew how terrible that was for him. He wasn’t able to do the things he wanted to do, couldn’t really do anything much at all towards the end. He was suffering a lot (as was my mom) so him finally finding peace was the best for him. I know it sounds harsh, but it’s what it was for us. 

The time after that was…weird. 

But we got through it, made sure mom was doing okay; and after the funeral life continued - as it tends to do. 

Everything was a tad dulled and tinged with grief but when I (finally) listened to Tumblr which kept raving about that ‘gay pirate show’, well things… changed.

I will forever be grateful for those i follow that they kept screaming about it otherwise i’d never checked it out. But I was fandomless, there wasn’t anything I was currently obsessing over, and I needed something to distract me from that massive loss. 

And by the Gods, that they did. That perfect little show, full of queer love and wonderful friendships, of beautiful sentiments and funny quips was JUST what I needed. It filled the empty space in my heart and helped me through the toughest times. 

I have lost count of how many times I’ve watched it by now (and will again once the UK will finally get it officially just to experience the SQUEE that will happen when it airs!). 

I love every damn thing about that show: its amazing creator, that insanely talented cast and the wonderful crew making sure every single one can shine and sparkle as they deserve!!! 

Nothing was ever the same after April 3rd, the day I left hanging with the most gruesome cliffhanger in a while and no renewal in sight!!! 

Once again I am soo soo glad for the friends that fall in love with the same things - but then again, this damn show is just soo fucking perfect and everyone else really need to get their shit together to even get close to the level of perfection that show has!!! 

The show and its cast has occupied my mind ever since (and will continue to do so once season 2 comes out so expect more screaming about it in next year’s review). 

But there have been more lovely and wonderful things - it’s almost as if this year wanted to make up for the pain. 

I’ve been to London again!! TWICE!! Six glorious days in the summer, and four in autumn. Summer was on my own, and boy did I enjoy that. Having time for myself, doing the things I wanted to do, being on my own with  my thoughts - there’s nothing better to recharge the batteries. 

But I wasn’t lonely: finally met some old friends again and got to spend some quality time with them; I saw one of my fav musician again, after almost a decade of not being able to do so. London in summer is gorgeous, London during Pride month is even better! I saw an amazing queer Shakespeare which I wished I could’ve seen twice; Come From Away will ALWAYS make my heart soar and I’ve spent hours in a beautifully immersive Van Gogh exhibition. 

When I came back, I even got to spent more amazing time with my dear C, went to see Queen - even though the one souvenir i didn’t ask for put me in quarantine for 10 days! (Still so thankful for 3 vaccinations and a very mild case!) 

There was a brief visit at B’s to see her boys and spent some time with her as well - it’s been too damn long since I’ve seen her (even though I LOVE her video chats when she can squeeze them in in between her kids!) 

Another London trip, seeing David Tennant (hating the play - a very first!), LOVING Letter Live at the RAH (beautiful beautiful place; def going to go back!); getting tipsy in the skies and walking all the steps!!! 

And just when I thought the year couldn’t get any better, there’s the chance to see the one and only Taika Waititi live and in colour! (Massive shoutout to the like minded and equally obsessed people that helped me secure a ticket for the show!) 

GAH!! That’s still a thing I never thought to happen! And yet it did. And once again, a new fandom always comes with the most lovely people - thank you, Twitter (even though you’re currently a terrible hell hole!) for connecting fandoms across borders!!! 

WHAT A NIGHT that was!!! Even though he was tiny and far away on that stage, that night will forever be seared into my memories! (hell, even just typing it out makes me grin like a loon!) 

There was one small hiccup as mom had to go to hospital for an astonishing four weeks, but she’s back home again and feeling more or less okay, so I’ll take that!!! (Plus, she’s gotten through her 1st Covid infection rather nicely, thanks to 4 vaccinations and despite everything else a rather healthy constitution it seems!)

And now it’s New Year’s Eve - another one for the books. 

Closing out 2022 on a more optimistic note though. 

Pandemic slowly but surely turning into an endemic which means less restrictions and more travel for me. Maybe even working without face masks in the spring. 

It’s getting there.  And I'm hopeful, and looking forward to all the things 2023 has to offer. 

For seeing old and new friends again. 

For seeing my beloved London again. 

For making plans and doing things and enjoying life to the fucking fullest because it is too damn short to not do all the things you want to do!!! 

BUT once again, I will not make too many plans, these days being spontaneous is the better way to do things without being too disappointed. 

So, for the new year: hug your loved ones; tell them you love them; look after them; make friends; let go of the things that are not good for you! 

ENJOY life as much as you can. Be it in big things or the small ones - as long as it brings you joy and makes you smile, it’s a GOOD thing!!! 

Here’s to a glorious 2023 - have the most wonderful year, my darlings!!!

[itsallyscorner]

For Tom x

Pairing: Tom Holland x singer!reader

Summary: You have a surprise for Tom:)

Warnings: none, just pure teeth rotting Fluff:)

A/n: Hello my loves! This is literally a rewrite because I accidentally deleted the original version of this story on Tumblr RIGHT before I was gonna post it😭 Anyway here it is, I hope you all like it! Ally x

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

look at my sunshine🥺

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Your giggles filled the hallway as you lead Tom into your makeshift studio. Since you were quarantining with him and his mates in their shared home in London, you were miles away from your crew and studio. Which, yes, made it difficult to record an entire album on your own—but it did give you the creative freedom to do whatever you pleased for the album.

The boys had their own creative outlets; for example putting together a puzzle or having a movie marathon. While you found those activities enjoyable, the inner singer in you couldn’t stop thinking of beats or coming up with lyrics in your head. You needed the studio—you needed to bring those beats and lyrics to life before you could forget them. So with the help of the houses’ tech lord himself, Harry made it possible for you to have your own little studio in the spare guest room of the house. There, you spent endless days writing and recording things like harmonies and building melodies. Little did you know that this would lead to the creation of your sixth album. Now a couple months later, your latest album is currently in its final stages and would soon be released to the world.

Tom adoringly watched your figure, which was drowned in one of his oversized jumpers, excitedly skip towards the guest room. As soon as you were both inside, you rushed to close the door and eagerly pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“What have you been up to, lovey?” He teasingly asks you. He knew you were up to something, he just didn’t know if it were bad or good.

Your figure was bent over the desk where your laptop was located. Turning over your shoulder you tell him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” You’re met with an amused grin on his blush pink lips.

Gathering your laptop into your arms, you move to sit beside Tom on the bed. He curiously leans forward, trying to get a glance at what’s on your screen.

“Nuh uh, it’s a surprise, Thomas.” You playfully scold him and gently push his face away from your laptop. He responds with a pout against your palm before pressing a kiss onto your skin. You continue to click around on your laptop, looking through your documents for the specific file.

Meanwhile, Tom shuffles further up the bed, getting comfortable. He notices the new distance between you and him and decides that he’s unsatisfied with the additional inches. He choses to snake his arms around your waist and lifts you up, happily placing you on the empty and lonely space on his lap. Laying down on his back, he takes a moment to admire the way you look in his jumper. It was a few sizes bigger than you and stopped right above your knees. The jumper may have looked good on him, but it looked absolutely perfect on you.

“You look so cute in my jumper.” He hums, hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs. Your nose scrunches up as you lightly slap his chest; your silent way of saying “shut up” whenever Tom would say something that made you blush.

You finally find the file you were looking for and place your laptop on your lap. You nervously glance at your screen, biting down on your lip out of habit.

“Ok, so I did something.” You started. Tom squints his eyes at you, “That sounds like the beginning of a really bad something.”

You huff, “I just told you it wasn’t anything bad! Do you want your surprise or not?”

Tom chuckles and grasps onto your thighs, “Yes—yes, sorry, keep going.”

“So you know how I’ve already finished my album?” You question him. Tom nods, staring up at you while you sit on his thighs.

“Well, I wrote a few more songs that were supposed to be on the album. But I don’t know, I felt a bit greedy and decided to keep them for myself.” You explain. Tom raises a brow at you, “Baby, you don’t have to feel guilty about keeping songs to yourself. If you don’t want to share them, you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just that, they’re about you.” You pause, staring down at your fingers that fiddled together. “Like I wrote them specifically for you to listen to. I wanted to include them on the album, but it just didn’t feel right to share something that was meant only for you.”

You place your laptop on the bed and turn it so the screen is facing Tom.

“So...as a solution, I made you your own album.” You were too busy avoiding his stare, that you missed the twinkle in Tom’s coffee colored orbs. He carefully sits up, his arms around you getting tighter, as he pulls you closer into his chest. Tom ducks his head down to yours, nudging your nose with his to get you to look at him. When your eyes finally meet, the lopsided grin on his features grows wider.

“You made me my own album?”

“Yeah.” You shyly answer. Tom softly coos at you, cupping your face and pressing a chaste kiss onto both of your cheeks.

“You are the most precious thing in the world, sunshine, I swear.” He squishes your cheeks together and began to cover your face with butterfly like kisses. Sweet laughs erupt from you, the sounds making Tom’s heart swell.

You stuff your face in the space between his neck and shoulder, using it as a place to hide from his lips. Instead, Tom opts to lay his kisses along the side of your face, your neck, and your shoulder.

“Lemme kiss you!” He whines. You chuckle at him, finally moving away from his neck. His attention darts towards your lips more than once, prompting you to lean forward and connect them with his. Tom’s lips were soft against yours, like clouds or cushiony pillows. The kiss was short and sweet; though it didn’t prevent you from feeling the adoration and passion he felt for you in that moment. In fact, he felt it all the time, but right now, his love for you was coursing through his veins.

He finally pulls away, leaving the taste of him linger in your mouth. “Can I have a listen?” He motions his head towards your laptop beside him.

“Go ahead.” Tom’s arms unravel from your waist, the area they once occupied left cold and yearning for his warmth. He uses one of his elbows to hold himself up and the other to control the touchpad. His eyes scan the file.

For Tom x

someone like u

test drive

worst behavior

main thing

He glances at you, “I start with ‘someone like u’, right?” You reply with a quiet “mhm”.

Tom clicks on the link. The opening notes of ‘someone like u’ begin to play followed by your angelic voice. You hear him release a content sigh, making a small smile to form on your lips. His arms make their way around you again, this time holding you closer against him. He rests his head on your chest and sneakily presses a kiss onto your neck. You fondly run a hand through his curly hair and rest your chin on the top of his head, listening to the songs you’ve made for him.

The two of you listen through the album in one go with no stops. You found joy in Tom’s reactions towards every song. Sometimes he would make little comments or sounds of shock whenever he heard you hit a certain note. He nodded along to the beats of ‘test drive’ and ‘worst behavior’, dancing around in his seat and making you join him. This time, you didn’t miss the twinkle in his eyes when he listened closely to the lyrics. ‘Main thing’ got him the most, leaving him with a goofy-lovesick grin plastered onto his face.

When ‘main thing’ came to a close, the room became silent, leaving Tom enough time to process the four songs you wrote about him and the meanings behind them.

You were the first to speak, “So did you like it?” You scan his face looking for any signs of dislike.

Tom’s eyes widen, “Are you kidding me? That was bloody fantastic—that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! I’m obsessed with it, oh my god!” He expressed, arms moving around as he spoke.

His face was radiating with happiness, “You are the most talented and loving woman in the world. And I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you or your love—but I just love you so fucking much.”

“I love you so fucking much too, you dork.” You laugh, pecking his lips.

“No, but seriously, thank you so much. I know you’re used to writing songs, but the fact that you actually took the time to write songs about me means a lot. They’re just a bunch of songs, but they mean the world to me and I cherish each and every one of them.” He admits, taking one of your hands and placing it onto his heart. Your palm feels the faint rhythm of his heart beating against his chest.

You tilt your head at him, mirroring the smile on his face, “I’ll always write songs about you. You somehow manage to inspire them anyway.”

Tom smirks, “Well I am Tom Holland.” You snort and roll your eyes at his humble brag.

“You’re still a dork, Tommy.” You comment.

Tom shrugs, “I’m a special dork because I’m your dork. Therefore making me superior to the other existing dorks—there’s a difference, darling.”

“And where did you come up with this hypothesis, Mr. Holland?” You question him, playing along with his antics.

“It’s Tom’s Theory.” He answers with feign seriousness. You burst out laughing, “Oh is it?”

Tom leans down to your laptop and restarts his album. “Yes, and now Tom’s Theory, believes that we should listen to the album again until I learn all the lyrics to every single song.” He proclaims.

“Babe, you don’t have to—” Tom stops you, “I’m dead serious.”

It was going to be a long night.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tags ↴

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Tom Holland + characters Taglist

↪︎ @lovableparker @aprettyfleur @sunwardsss @dummiesshort @thotforcriminalminds @cuddlykoala101 @itstaskeen @whoslili @white-wolf1940 @tomsirishgirlx @roseke @kaylans-imagines @spideyspeaches @slutforsebstan

General Taglist

↪︎ @quxxnxfhxll @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @thegirlwiththediary @agustdowney @bi-lmg @rqmanoff @sesamepancakes @stardustofreading

[darthkruge]

Hello! I'm kinda new to the whole tumblr thing so sorry if this request is bad but I was wondering if maybe you could do an imagine for spencer reid where the reader is Garcia's younger sister and Garcia brings her in to meet the team because it's her first day there. Maybe Reid recognizes her from somewhere and he will not leet it go until he finds out how he knows her? Btw it's totally fine if you don't get to this! :)

Spencer Reid x Reader ~ Piano

Summary: When a new agent joins the BAU, Spencer knows he’s seen them before but literally cannot figure out where. His memory having never failed him before, he doesn’t rest until he figures it out.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral! Reader; Penelope Garcia x Sibling! Reader

Words: 1973

Warnings: A little bit of language, I think that’s all?

A/N: Hey anon!! First off, don’t worry, love! I’m honestly new to this whole tumblr thing too, but I loved this request! I’m sorry I didn’t get to it sooner, life’s been a bit hectic. I made it so the reader is Garcia’s younger sibling instead of sister, I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to try to make writing as gender neutral as possible moving forward. Nothing against you, of course, I know I haven’t specified in past requests and I couldn’t have expected you to know, so don’t worry! That being said, sorry for rambling and I hope you like it :)

(gif isn’t mine)

“Hello, everyone! I want you to meet the youngest of the wonderful Garcia children!” Penelope led you into the BAU where you waved a bit stiffly. You weren’t a huge fan of being the center of attention, but you knew your sister loved these introductions.

Looking around, you pieced together the people you knew from Penelope’s stories. You recognized Derek immediately. You assumed from his professional stance that the taller and older dark haired man was Hotch. Logically, that meant Rossi was next to him. And Emily and JJ were the two women, smiling and waving at you encouragingly. You smiled a bit broader, immediately sensing you would be fast friends with them. Finally, your eyes landed on what had to be Spencer. You thought he was quite attractive and, from Penelope’s descriptions, he was also amazing, talented, kind, smart, basically everything you liked. You waved at him but noticed he was almost studying you? You weren’t sure, but felt a bit awkward, confused as to why he seemed friendly to everyone else but wouldn’t even smile at you.

“Umm, hi!” You said, laughing nervously and kind of hoping to disappear. Hotch sensed your discomfort and offered you a kind smile before putting you out of your misery.

“Welcome to the team, L/N. Garcia’s told us wonderful things about you. That being said, we’re just closing up tonight, so you could finish up your paperwork finalizing your transfer into the BAU if you haven’t already and then come in for your first day tomorrow?”

“Okay, thank you, Sir.”

“Goodnight, team”

Everyone echoed the “Goodnight” before filing out of the room. You got into the car with your sister and pulled out of the BAU, reflecting on your past and thinking about the next chapter of your life.

After almost everyone else had left, Spencer was still at his desk, thinking. The certified genius, was, for once, completely at a loss. He couldn’t figure it out. Where had he seen you before? He was currently in the process of mapping out every place he’d gone to over the last few months. Every restaurant, every film festival, every face he saw in passing at crosswalks, through car windows, at coffee stands, and, still, nothing.

“Woah, Pretty Boy, slow down! What’s got you so riled up?” Derek says, walking over to where Spencer was hunched over his notebook, furiously writing.

“I can’t figure it out, I know we’ve met before or I’ve seen them before or something. I just,” Spencer put his head in his hands, eyes starting to burn a bit from the strain of writing and concentrating for so long, “I just know it”

“Seen who before?”

“Y/N, the new agent. They’re so familiar, but for some reason I just can’t figure it out”

“Ohh! Garcia’s their sister, right?”

Spencer nodded and Derek came behind him, seeing the messy timeline and pages of notes scattered around the agent.

“Are you sure you’ve seen them? I mean, we see lots of people on the job. You could have just seen someone who looked like them, you know? And come on, Reid, your memory is, like, insane . If you’d met, you’d have remembered”

“I know, that’s what’s got me so messed up.” Spencer sighed.

“Take a rest, kid. It’s late, get back to it tomorrow. Maybe they’ll visit you in your dreams…” Derek said, wiggling his eyebrows and laughing as he walked away.

Spencer laughed, hoping Derek was right. He’d do anything to get more time with you, even if it was in his subconscious. Honestly, he felt a bit bad. He’d been so caught up in figuring how he knew you that he’d kind of forgotten to actually talk to you. Normally, he’d have caught a new recruit before they left, but he didn’t get the chance with you. After packing up, Spencer went home and continued his search with you on the forefront of his mind.

Meanwhile, you had just gotten back to your sister’s apartment. You had your own place but you were new to the team and felt a bit lonely. Mentally, you didn’t want to be alone at home, too.

“Hey, Pen, what’s up with Reid?” You asked. You were confused, you knew he was quiet but he seemed to be actively ignoring you. Even stranger, you caught him intensely staring at you, as if he was trying to figure something out.

“He’s just shy, Y/N. But he’ll warm up to you, don’t worry! Honestly, I think the both of you would be a pretty good match. If you want, I can do some of my famous matchmaking!”

“Please, noooooo,” You groaned, dragging out the word.

“Come on! I’m great at it!”

“No! Remember last time? I ended up on a blind date with a guy who, within the first three minutes, told me he liked me because he saw similarities between me and his parents!! Then, he proceeded to detail their divorce for the next 45 minutes!”

Penelope was laughing hysterically, “I mean, you did say you liked emotionally available people!”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head, dying in your own fit of laughter.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m going to bed. I can’t be conscious in the same house as you anymore” You say, smiling and jokingly flipping your sister off as you walk away and into the guest room.

Naturally, she returned the gesture.

When Spencer arrived at work the next morning, his eyes were bloodshot, hair was sticking up in a million different directions, and clothes were exceptionally disheveled. Anyone else and you would have thought they had a really bad (or great) one-night stand. Although you weren’t close with him, you just didn’t see him being that type of guy. You laughed a bit as he grimaced, taking a sip of what looked like extremely bitter coffee.

Deciding to try and break the ice, you went over to him. “Long night?”

Spencer’s head shot up. “Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that” He said, laughing a bit.

You smiled. Even though he was awkward, you felt at ease in his company. “I get that, I’ve had a few long nights myself. I love the job, don’t get me wrong, but the way the BAU runs is different from anything else I’ve ever dealt with.”

“Yeah. It can be a bit of an adjustment, but you’ll be fine. You’re doing great. I mean, you arrived early, so I can already assume you’re organized. And your desk is a little messy, leading me to believe you’re a creative person. Your handwriting is quite slanted, too. I recognized it from your entry forms. Did you know that’s a sign of high intelligence? Because your thoughts are moving so quickly, your hand can’t keep up in the “perfect” way, so the letters normally slant and become more sloppy.”

You were mesmerized by him. You could watch him talk for hours, truly. Sure, he wasn’t always graceful, but he was so passionate about everything he talked about. You loved listening to people talk about what they love. The way their eyes light up, it makes the energy surrounding them contagious.

Realizing he had just psychoanalyzed you without permission, Spencer looked at your sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to profile you. It’s sometimes hard to shut off, especially around new people.”

“I get that. It’s okay, I don’t mind.” You said, nodding knowingly.

As you said that, Spencer figured it out. He remembered one time visiting his mother in Vegas and hearing you say those exact words. You were playing the piano, talking to a patient who had just accidentally spilled some water on your sheet music as they took their medicine. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. I was in need of new music, anyway” You had responded, laughing. He was surprised he didn’t immediately recognize you, the beautiful and talented person he’d seen that day. But, it did make sense, in a way. Spencer’s memory is always at its highest and weakest when he’s with his mother. He can remember each of their conversations, verbatim, but everything else fades.

“Spencer? You alright?” He had been kind of spacing out for a few moments and you were afraid you did something wrong.

His attention came back to you and he smiled again, brighter this time. “You play piano.” He stated.

Your breath caught and you let out a small laugh, extremely confused. “Uhh, yeah, I do. I’m sure you’re great, but that seems extreme even for you, Mr. Profiler”

Spencer laughed. “No! I didn’t profile you, I just, I remember you. Las Vegas, March 12th, Psychiatric Hospital, you were playing piano. A patient spilled water on you. I remember you.”

“Oh, right! Ms. Owens! She’s lovely. You were there that day? Well, either that or you just gave yourself up as a damn good stalker”

“No, no, not that,” He said, a shy smile playing on his lips, “My mother’s a patient there, Diana Reid? I’m not sure if you know her.”

“Yeah! She’s quite a character. I always enjoyed playing on days Diana was there.” You reminisced for a second, lost in the memory.

“Were you visiting someone there, too?” He said, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Not exactly. My grandfather was a patient before he passed. He taught me how to play and I kind of just asked the staff if I could volunteer and continue to after he left. They were kind enough to let me. I mean, he always encouraged me to perform and I thought it was a nice way to honor his memory. A few months later I heard from Penelope that there was an opening at the BAU. I moved out, and, well, here I am.” You gestured to yourself, slightly embarrassed after you realized you might have overshared.

Spencer caught onto this, however, and quickly reassured you. “That’s amazing, Y/N. You were amazing when I heard you. I wish I could have heard you play again.”

“Thank you, that’s really sweet, Spencer.” You said, resting your hand atop his, a blush forming in his cheeks at the touch.

“Um, if you don’t have plans. I mean, not to assume you don’t have plans, just if you, you know, happen to not be busy, would you want to maybe get dinner sometime? You don’t have to, of course! I wouldn’t be offended! I just kind of want to get to know you more. If that’s alright with you.” He trailed off, not making eye contact and playing with the buttons on his shirt a bit as he awaited your answer.

Deciding to be bold, you gently turned his face to meet yours and smiled. “I would love to. Tomorrow, pick me up at 8:00?”

“Yeah! Here’s my number, text me your address?”

You smiled and nodded, taking his phone. He took the moment to just look at you. You were truly one of the most breathtaking people he’d ever met. He couldn’t believe he’d just gotten you to agree to go out with him. Even so, he wouldn’t question it. If something in the universe gave this to him, he wouldn’t risk it for a second.

You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek as you slipped the phone back into his hand. As you pulled away, Spencer cupped your cheek and pulled you back in for a kiss. His lips tasted sweet and soft and a sense of serenity washed over you as you stood in the middle of the BAU, kissing him. Everything faded away and quickly came into focus again as he pulled away, far too soon for your liking.

“More of that tomorrow” He whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smiled, “That’s fine by me.”

~requests are open~

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Penumbra

Penumbra has 9 stories at Gossamer and 1 at AO3. You can find her complete catalogue here. If you’ve read any X-Files fic, surely you have read at least one of her stories. If not, why not? Some wondrous places to start are Parabiosis, Contact High, Black Hole Season, and Heuvelmans’ On the Track. Big thanks to Penumbra for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

In a way, yes. There are no precedents for what happened to us with XF fandom, and in the late aughts it all seemed to be over. I got out and never looked back, haha. What really surprised me was to find, all these years on, that there are still X-Philes, although it does make sense they’d seek out those wonderful old fics we wrote.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

Let's be honest, in my Penumbra days I was in a bad situation, the X-Files was a coping mechanism, and Mulder and Scully's relationship an idealization. I latched onto it as only a lonely obsessive can. The X-Files withholds; it opens up metamagical voids; it isolates while simultaneously plunging one into an ethereal community. It’s the tattoo I deserve.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

The X-Files forced me to get online. Computers weren’t a part of my life, so I sneaked into the local university comp labs and figured it out. It was absolutely terrifying, like landing a space capsule, and I didn’t have ID and lived in fear of being caught. The first thing I typed into a computer was ‘X-Files’. So renegade! My heart was pounding and I thought sirens might sound and fire doors engage.

The Fox site had an X-Files forum that was utter pandemonium. Glorious and scary. At that time, I was one of the many Starbucks. The people on atxc seemed way too smart and opinionated. It was hard to even get membership in forums; they were heavily moderated. Mostly I remember lots of email friendships. Sometimes a kindly mature Phile would reach down from the ether with some words of wisdom. A. I. Irving was one. She was dealing with M.S., and writing fic while she still could. It is with an enormous sense of poignancy that I think of the people who were the ‘adults’ of the fandom then. Now I’m ancient in Phile years, but at the time I was just a clueless twenty-something, looking up to all those greats.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

Wow, as WE ALL KNOW, discovering X-Files fanfic was a revelation. Whew! I thought: stand back, the professionals are handling this. The authors were about as human as Greek gods. Eventually it dawned on me that anyone could write it.

The first fic I wrote was HORRIBLE. I put a link to it on my site, so that people can get a little hit of schadenfreude. Those early stories were on shaky footing. I had no confidence in myself. I felt intimidated writing about sophisticated, highly-educated career people when I was none of those things. Heck, I was cleaning motel rooms. I'm still none of those things, but, through Mulder and Scully, I've lived that life a little bit, and it was fun.

The third story, 'Contact High', was all sex and drugs. I’d done acid and shrooms, so finally, a subject I could assert some authority over! I decided to just go for it. That abandon was a breakthrough, and Penumbra came into being. But there was so much going on inside me, it was hardly harnessable; as stories like ‘Vespers’ and ‘Black Hole Season’ show, it was like getting on a horse that you can't control and just clinging to its neck as it gallops.

This time around, in my latest incarnation, I feel that I have a better perspective on Mulder and Scully, more of an even footing. I’ve been through a lot, and in 'Hotel-Zero', I wanted to demonstrate not just how to survive, but how to survive as yourself. I wanted to maybe create a sort of handbook for how to keep your head above water. Life is hard for all of us, people are hard on us. You need to keep a singular perspective on yourself, and allow no one modify it.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

I’ve had two separate experiences, with a seven-year hiatus, and I wouldn't have missed either of them for the world. Belonging to an obscure hive mind has been one of the most interesting and rewarding (not to mention super-secret) facets of my life, and that will always be my overall takeaway as an X-Phile.

However, as the fandom imploded there was understandable backlash against the whole Penumbra thing. The panegyric was just too much, the style definitely overblown. I posted 'Fathoms Five' as things were melting down, and there was real outrage. People were boycotting it as a political statement. Oh, we were all so raw—the X-Files was ending and IWTB was a heartbreaker. At that point I’d been working on 'Heuvelmans’ for a couple of years and was forced to admit I couldn’t finish it, nor would it be well-accepted if I did. So you can sort of see the baggage I was carrying when I left the fandom, not to mention the creative angst.

Three things brought me back:

1. They started filming the Revival. I flipped out at the thought of seeing Mulder and Scully again.

2. @perplexistan contacted me, and I realized there was a frisky pack of Philes on tumblr. Philes are my people, that’s just a fact.

3. I read @teethnbone’s ‘Das Ding’, which zapped at my temples like thunderstorm electrodes. So, there I was, in a trance, making the Devil’s Tower out of mashed potatoes.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

No, I would consider it a sacrilege. I have loved and admired many other television series, but writing X-Files fic for Philes has been too extraordinary an experience to dilute. I have a zillion obsessions, but for only one am I fannish.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I just finished up that monster oldie called ‘Heuvelmans’ On the Track’, under the name The Mythopoeic. It’s on AO3. I have a couple of obscure side projects with a writing buddy. And I have another old fic called ‘Blue Ruin’, a cancer arc fic I’d like to finish someday.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

It is very nice. People are gentle and welcoming. Philes used to criticize stories mercilessly and authoritatively, but you don’t see that a lot anymore.  I have plenty of outside projects, so I am trying to ease away, you know, like taking off your shoes to slip out of the room after the baby’s fallen asleep.

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

I’d like each one of you to know that your belief in me changed my life and saved me a thousand times over.

(Posted by Lilydale on December 8, 2020)

[aegialia]

self-indulgent reflection on being on tumblr

so i recently hit 1000 followers on here and this blog has existed for almost exactly 8 years, so i wanted to ramble about tumblr and my experience of it for awhile. under the cut so definitely feel free to ignore this.

i started this blog right around when i was fourteen and had just started high school. at that point, i was out to my parents (and no one else) as bi, i had an inkling i was Struggling with something but i had no idea what and felt like i couldnt actually acknowledge it, and i had left leaning but very vague politics. tumblr definitely has shaped my journey around sexuality/gender/mental health/politics, both for good and for ill. 

for good: 

seeing other ppl talk about being lesbians helped me realize i could be a lesbian w/o being a traitor to the concept of bisexuality. hearing trans ppl talk about their experiences and explaining non-binary stuff and dysphoria helped me understand what i was going through 

i don’t like talking about my mental health stuff in detail on here, but suffice to say, i was Going Through it in high school. i’m still going through it now, but i am in a much better place (thank you medication and 7 years of therapy!). seeing ppl talk about the weird, dumb, awful parts of mental illness let me acknowledge that i was going through those things too, that i wasnt like evil for feeling like that, that i could change. people talking about adhd/autism was particularly helpful---being able to identify why i’d always felt like my brain just didn’t work right is the first step in the (ongoing) process of not hating myself for the way my brain works

politics is definitely the area where i think tumblr was the best for me. i got exposed to so many opinions i definitely wasn’t hearing in school, from intelligent, well-read people who could articulate theory in ways i could understand. tumblr didn’t give me my politics and i didn’t learn everything i know about theory from it, but the communities of people i was around pointed me in the right directions. tumblr was also a good place to learn how to react to criticism. this doesn’t seem to be most people’s experience, but getting called out over minor things on tumblr genuinely helped me learn how to take a step back, look at my behavior, apologize, and try to change, which, as it turns out, is a helpful skill irl as well

for ill:

wrt sexuality and gender, it’s probably pretty obvious someone who’s journey is ‘cis bi girl -> cis with a million different microlabels -> nb w a million different microlabels for both sexuality and gender -> nb butch lesbian who’s not super into romance’ would have some bad times on tumblr. the bi circles i was in made being a lesbian seem like an immoral choice, the ‘’’mogai’’’ (or whatever u wanna call them) circles made me feel like i had to divy up and perfectly label every aspect of myself in a way that really wasn’t helpful for me, the lesbian circles i was in made me feel like being a lesbian was about ending up in a monogamous butch/femme cottagecore relationship and that there was something wrong with me for not really wanting that. to be clear i think microlabels can be very helpful for people/a monogamous butch/femme relationship is a perfectly fine thing to want, they just didn’t work for me. im very very glad ive reached a point in my life where i dont feel the need to stay up to date on the latest discourse and am more focused on finding a way to exist that is comfortable for me and supporting my community irl. 10/10 would recommend to everyone

not going to get deep into it, but social media is. not good for my brain in general. i still enjoy using tumblr, but these days im pretty careful to step back from it frequently and treat it as an occasional hobby. 

the cons of political stuff on tumblr are probably also very obvious. there are some just awful discussions on here and the culture surrounding the way we handle bad behavior and justice and accountability and working to become a better person and make up for the harm you’ve caused has historically been fucking awful and trying to unlearn it and find new ways to engage with this stuff is exhausting. 

for all that i’ve changed over the course of having this blog, this blog has stayed pretty fucking static. i started out being super into diana wynne jones and the iliad and those are still two of my biggest interests and things i talk about the most on here. there are definitely specific things that have petered away (i started this blog almost entirely to keep up with good omens fan stuff and i pretty much haven’t touched it since the miniseries came out, i haven’t sought out pacific rim/supernatural/elementary/mcu content in years), but im still pretty much interested in the same things. i like relatively small fandoms, i like weird side characters, i like to be a grumpy child playing with my toys in the corner. when a fandom im in gets popular, i tend to stop engaging with it entirely (hello rqg/tma/good omens/enola holmes!). i dont think its a pretentious ‘i liked it before it was cool’ thing so much as a ‘people get Weird and awful when a fandom hits a certain level of popularity and there’s too much content and i really, really hate the bad faith arguments larger fandoms tend to spawn’ thing. i’ll consume content from big fandoms, but i pretty much refuse to actually engage with them at this point.

one of the stranger parts of my experience of tumblr is the social side. i’ve never really known how people make friends online---how do you go from liking each other’s posts and occasionally replying to them to actually being friends who communicate off social media? i’ve had conversations with ppl on tumblr and i’ve had sort-of friendships that are contained to tumblr where i’d like to get to know them better, but i’ve never figured out how to do that. my best friend’s job is pretty much to make friends/connections on the internet (she’s an activist and artist), my dad knows people everywhere in the world from twitter, and i’m just sitting here like a little old grandpa who doesn’t understand how you can have internet friends. 

at this point in my life, i’m fine with this, but this has made me feel real fucking bad in the past---like, if everyone online, even the ppl who say they’re weird and brainbad in a similar way to me, can make friends on the internet, what’s wrong with me? particularly in high school and my first year of college, when i was just horribly lonely all the time, it made me feel super disconnected and like there was something fundamentally bad about me. these days, i’m a lot chiller about it. i use social media to engage with stuff i enjoy and share my thoughts about it. it’s okay that my social difficulties extend to me not knowing how to use the internet to socialize.

on a somewhat related topic, it’s wild that i have 1000 followers. obviously, that’s not an actually super large number and a huge number of them are probably bots or inactive. if you post consistently for eight years and follow lots of people, like i do, it’s not a surprise to end up with this many followers. it is also, thankfully, the sort of followers that are not fans. probably most ppl following this blog dont remember why they followed and dont know anything about me or my interests. this sounds like its meant to be depressing but it’s not. i like that my way of engaging w the internet lets me do pretty much whatever i want and no one will care. the mere concept of being. like. tumblr famous in any capacity, even just in one community/fandom, is viscerally horrifying to me. 

i really enjoy the space i’ve created for myself on here. on one hand, going back through my blog is obviously embarrassing and full of hating my past self. on the other hand, i now have a very nice collection of things i enjoy in this blog. i like seeing what i’ve been interested in and (when i’m in a good mental health place) i like to be able to remember how i thought and talked about the things i loved when i was younger. im not at the place in my life where i can love a younger version of myself, but sometimes i can laugh at zir with a level of fondness. 

i’ve always been paranoid about sharing details about my life on here (and the fact that my parents have always been able to see it certainly contributed), so the version of jack on here is a carefully curated version, who’s super enthusiastic about the things they love, was very conscientious about apologizing and trying to do better when ze messed up, and tried to be polite to others. that’s a younger version of myself that i’m closer to being able to have compassion for than the version i find in essays and poems and memories. 

i’m starting grad school in ten days and i’m still using the blog i started when i began high school. tumblr has helped me in a lot of ways and hurt me in a lot of ways, but i still have to admit that it’s been a significant factor in shaping me. i’d be incredibly embarrassed to admit that irl, but it’s true. other than my family and like one friend, this blog is one of the only things that’s ‘known’ me since i started high school. i’ve changed so much in that time and im glad to have this weird little record of myself throughout those changes, even if i’d probably warn my younger self away from tumblr if i could go back in time.

tl;dr i have had a mixed experience on tumblr and i have mixed feelings about that experience. no idea if anyone read any of this very long, very rambling internet memoir

p.s. fun facts about this blog:

i’ve never changed my icon or blog title

i recently got a second version of the poster i got my blog title from. i chose my blog title by looking at what was hanging on the wall directly in front of me. 

my original url was gloomthkin. this was not, as you’d probably assume, an otherkin thing. i had literally no idea what otherkin was at that point. i’d just learned the word gloomth from a bill bryson book and thought it would be cool n edgy to be the child of the quality of gloom. i changed my url after i learned what otherkin was and realized everyone probably assumed something about me that wasn’t true which i hated (not bc i had an issue w otherkin, just bc i don’t like ppl thinking untrue things about me)

during my good omens days, i once sent a tumblr ask to nail guyman which, in retrospect, was kinda rude. i stand by the content but id never send an ask like that now. he replied to it privately in a way that so deeply embarrassed and shamed 15 year old me that i’ve never gotten over it. i still get nervous and embarrassed when i see anything about him or his books

[albatrossmuffin]

Birthday Story: Nao

Translation of Birthday Story: Nao can be found...right here for once lol:

So this is the temporary home of Nao’s story until pillowfort gets its shit together; once they let me post there again I’ll post this there with the scans and stuff as usual (sorry I still don’t trust tumblr not to mark me mature content lol); at that time I’ll reblog this with the updated link here. 

Pillowfort has returned! Here’s the proper post.

In the meantime, I strongly suggest reading Natsuya’s first here, as they are directly related.

[Please forgive the weird spacing and nonsensical verb tense changing, it does that and I wanted you to feel my pain enjoy it as...intended? lol]

Birthday Story #04 Nao

In a gap in the clouds, I saw a rainbow in the clear blue sky. A seven-colored arch that stretches lengthwise. I feel like something good is going to happen today.

This year, practical training and assignments have increased, and the hectic days continue. On the other hand, I was able to once again meet Makoto and the others, who have come to Tokyo, so there is also a pleasant sensation.

Today I’ve been invited by Ikuya to Natsuya’s birthday party.  Very fidgety messages such as “Not yet?”, “Where are you now?” arrived from the starring player. Jeez, even though I’m sure I had told him that ‘today I’d be late because of a lecture, so I want you to start without me’. However, mysteriously I don’t feel displeased. Rather, I even feel relieved at the same-as-always Natsuya. By the time I realize, I’m caught up in Natsuya’s pace.

Come to think of it, next week I’ll have a birthday as well. Suddenly, I remembered Natsuya from around high school age.

“Rather, why don’t we celebrate our birthdays together? You see, these things are more fun when they’re lively, right!” 

In the end, the “joint birthday party” at that time did not happen. I too had passed it off as one of his funny stories. As for why I remembered a story from when we were in high school at this time, even I don’t know.     

Strength flows into the hand on the door of the building where Natsuya and the others are waiting. Now, with what kind of expression is the starring player that loves festivals awaiting with? 

“Happy birthday, Nao!” 

“Happy birthday, Nao-senpai!” 

Natsuya and Ikuya, and Hiyori’s smiles are lined up. I was involuntarily taken aback. That Natsuya, did he remember that time? 

“Why, what a surprise.” 

Murmuring that was all I could manage. Natsuya seemed dissatisfied with my reaction, and he protested with a snort of hmph. Ikuya and Hiyori are laughing happily. I pulled myself together and told them, “thanks.” 

The inside of the room was neatly divided into a space for celebrating Natsuya, and a space that appeared to be prepared for celebrating me. I discover a small aquaterrarium. It’s an item about which I had muttered, Should I buy it?, when I had gone shopping with Natsuya over a year ago.  Had he gone out of his way to buy it? I’m surprised by Natsuya’s memory and ability to take action. Even though he is this quick-thinking, why is he so clumsy, I wonder? 

In front of me, Natsuya and Ikuya are fighting about something like Natsuya ate the cake before he blew out the candles on it. I almost burst into laughter unconsciously. 

I talked with Haruka, Makoto, and Asahi, who had come earlier, about what’s going on in each other’s lives. Next to them were the students, which Makoto had brought along. 

“Coach Serizawa, happy birthday!” 

Saying that, Misaki-kun handed me a flower that he was holding with great care. Meeting his eye level, I accept it. Apparently he’d heard about today from Makoto, and had stopped by on his way home from the swimming club. 

“Thanks. I’ll come to see practice again.” 

“Okay, I’ll be able to swim much much faster than I can now!” 

I feel the growth in Misaki-kun, who smiles dependably, and in Makoto, who supports it, and my chest warms. This is why I can’t stop swimming. 

I heard about recent matches from Haruka and Asahi, and we discussed them including reflection. I keenly felt from the two of them the strength of their competitive spirit. The leopard can’t change…you know the rest.* I remembered when I was in middle school and grew nostalgic.

Even while enjoying the party, I was a little concerned if Natsuya was drinking too much. I thought I’d lightly chastise Natsuya who had, sure enough, begun to drowsily nod off, but I stopped myself. I’ll overlook it for today. Because it’s our first joint birthday party, after all. 

On the way home I lent Natsuya my shoulder. Natsuya’s body is quite heavier than it looks. Did he gain muscle again, I wonder? I’ve heard that inspired by Ikuya, the amount he’s practicing is increasing, too. 

Arriving at the station, when we were sitting on the platform bench, Natsuya murmured: 

“……Did you find out about it? I mean, the surprise……” 

If it was the usual, I probably would have replied with “I see right through a thing that Natsuya is likely to do.” 

However, at that time I just vaguely replied with “I wonder?”. I sensed that I was feeling a little peaceful. Surely, it was because of the gentle night breeze. 

I hear the sound of fireworks going up in the distance. 

Next year where will I, and Natsuya, be I wonder? It’s strange; because as I think such a thing, the sound of the fireworks, which should be stirring, sounds like a lonely sound in some way. With or without knowledge of my feelings, Natsuya suddenly laughed powerfully. 

“Next year I’ll surprise you even more.” 

“Okay. I’m counting on you*.” 

Natsuya surely doesn’t know that I have been saved by this smile. 

What will he surprise me with next, I wonder? I’ll secretly look forward to it.

 Notes:

“the leopard” – Japanese proverb time! Literally it says something like “the soul of a child of three (is the same) at 100,” meaning that the personality you have when you’re young doesn’t change even when you get older. The leopard can’t change its spots is the most recognizable translation option I found, so I went with that one. Also, he doesn’t say the entire proverb and cuts it off at the end, which is (according to the internet) a thing a lot of Japanese people do as a kind of nuance of both respecting that the person obviously knows the rest, and kind of avoiding showing off or being offensive by saying the entire thing. An interesting tie in to the subtlety of the linguistic culture I’d never heard before (like how people don’t say no directly).

“counting on” – this is one of the ways to translate this phrase but I don’t feel like it gives the full meaning so I must add lol; it has the nuance of “I’m expecting good things/I’m anticipating [it],” but in English I can’t have Nao say ‘I’m expecting great things of you/I’m anticipating you do this’ here without sounding like an asshole lololol

[shingeki-no-scenarios]

[!!!]

Hey, everybody! It's me, Ji. It's about to get real emotional up in here; like, this is gonna be a long, looong post, so scroll past this if you absolutely did not follow to see shit like this!

You're still here? Why, thank you! This is gonna get nauseatingly emotional, though.

I know, I know– I have a lot nerve for unceremoniously dipping and keeping you all hanging as far as your personal messages, and fic/match-up requests are concerned. Major vibe check fail.

I do apologize for that. I really do. Even if you think I don't owe you an apology, I insist on giving you one anyway. I don't think I'll outgrow feeling like shit for not being able to meet people's expectations and the ridiculously demanding expectations I've set for myself.

I may owe you an explanation as well, but I don't think I can deliver... Thinking about it, I don't have an explanation. Yeah, being locked down at home during this pandemic should have given me ample time to write and post, but it didn't. I hate that it didn't. I really don't know why it didn't work out that way. Writer's block truly, truly sucks.

As far as an explanation's concerned, all I can say is that you never know which way the wind goes. I know for sure I didn't, and I still don't.

Okay, congratulations for getting past that word vomit! Now, I'll be onto even more sickening stuff, so if you've had enough, please go back to whatever you were doing prior to this.

Are you staying? Cool! This is about to get a bit personal, though.

You see, it SnK/AoT means a lot to me, and like you, I wish it never ended but not every manga can be like One Piece, I guess.

I got into SnK/AoT just when my personal life was about to take a turn for the worst. It was around April 2014 when I sensed that I was in for a lonely, tough time, so I found solace in this awesome, unpredictable manga with a variety of cool characters. It didn't take long for me to become absolutely obsessed with SnK/AoT. I remember all I could think about were where the story could go and how much I wanted the characters to be my friends.

There was a whole lot of SnK/AoT content on Tumblr by this time, but I greedily wanted more of ones that would tickle my imagination. I wanted to read more. I wanted to spend more hours daydreaming about a life in the SnK/AoT universe much more satisfying than my real one, and the things me and my new-found "friends" would be up to. Eventually, this led to me coming up with my own scenarios and headcanons that I unfortunately couldn't discuss with people I knew in real life since they didn't even know what SnK/AoT was or even if they did watch/read it, they didn't hold it in the same regard I held it in. Hence, on June 1st 2014, I decided to share my ideas with the internet on a little blog called shingeki-no-scenarios.

This blog further grew my love for SnK/AoT. I met loads of interesting, amazing people from all walks of life who were imaginative like me, and never got tired of talking about and sharing scenarios, headcanons, ideas, etc.. Some of them even ended up being very dear friends of mine! I'm not saying that this blog and Snk/AoT were the solutions to the problems I had at that time, nor did it save my life but it definitely gave me a reason to smile even when it was hard to find something to smile about.

The end feels like I'm moving away from my neighborhood friends with whom I shared countless afternoons laughing and crying with. Heck, this feels exactly like the end of Toy Story 3. I think my attachment to SnK/AoT is too deep for me to just close the browser tab with Chapter 139 in it then move onto the next manga/anime.

Are you still here? Oh! Alright, I got one more thing to say.

Well, now that Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan is over and done, I know now that I would like to write and post again. Fics, drabbles, scenarios, match-up'– you naaaaame it. I want to continue exploring imaginative possibilities and ideas, write them down, then share it. I'm not quite ready to let the manga/anime and it's characters go yet, and I'll explain why further below.

Note that I'll do need to make some tweaks and changes to the rules, though, as "the times they are a-changin". Also, posting won't be as frequent as my professional and personal life could get so demanding.

Okay, so that was my first point. If you've had enough by now, feel free to run to my ask box!! But if you got time, stay a while!

No matter how many highs and lows the characters' development and storyline went through, I'll always have a soft spot for the story and its characters.

Yes, that includes Floch, too.

Moreover, I will always, always have a soft spot for this safe space of blog, the friends I've made on here, and most especially for my dearest readers who never fail to support my little self-indulgent hobby.

If you've reached this part, go do that task you pushed to the back burner because wow, you definitely had the time of day to read all this!

I'm kidding. Thank you for your time to read all that and I'll see you around! 💋

[atlaese]

✨AO3 Tag Game✨

tagged by: @pastafossa​! I- what!! when i saw this notif i think my heart stopped. like. i did not realize you knew i existed i am such a big fan of your work!! i read the whole of TRT in like... a week when i should have been studying (i am hardcore fangirling rn!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? right now i have 9 works on there! i only made an account last month and decided to publish some of my beloved fics on there too!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 35.777 sksks, it's not much but it's something! i'm still working on a few things (bucky stuff and matt stuff) so we might see an increase soon!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? okay so i'll do the ao3 version, but like on tumblr there's a different top 5?? so interesting!! these are all bucky fics, except for the last one - thats a spencer reid fic!

loving dawn as certainty of sunrise

kill with kindness

wasteland, baby!

black holes

liability

more under the cut bc i don't wanna clog the dash

5. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? yes!!! omg i love responding to comments! i honestly don't get many, but the ones i do get warm my heart so much!! its just so nice to see someone who read your stuff give a short comment why they liked it and idk its so nice to hear and everyone who has ever commented has my heart!!

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

i think homesick at space camp? that is just angst from beginning to end lmao! but i wrote a fluffy part two to it, so i don't know if it counts, but yeah, that one!

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

ooh, i actually haven't and i haven't even thought about that! maybe one day, but i feel like my writing skills aren't good enough yet to write more than one complex character in a fic with like... a good plot lmao.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

not yet! my stuff also isn't good enough to receive hate so thats like a plus too lmao we love the duality

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i tried to write smut once. it was a part two to the pool tables have turned. i had horny thots that night. i published it. then i went to bed. i woke up 8 hours later and it had decent exposure? i reread it. i cringed. and then i deleted it. yes, that was the saga of me writing smut, deleting it and thinking i should never do it again, haha! so atm i don't write explicit smut, but i do like some allusions to it, hehe.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

maybe in my wattpad days? also yes, i recently came across a site that all of the published wattpad stories copied onto it, my old stories to (from like 2014!!) so yes, my unfinished, downright horrible 5sos fics are also on that site :)

11. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, i think in my wattpad days! i honestly cannot remember what it was about or what happened, but i did! recently i haven't! i might be open to it though!

12. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

me x fictional character because i am lonely lmao. no um. super niche but there was this book series called the chemical garden and i liked the main characters relationship with gabriel. i think it was rhine x gabriel. yeah, i liked those two together! i like most canon ships ngl so this one was the first that came to mind.

13. What are your thoughts about writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

depends on the execution honestly! i like little words here and there, sometimes a full sentence if i can deduce whatever is said through context, but when there's full on another language with translations at the end of a fic, i'm less inclined to read it! (most of the time i can understand what is said though! bless me and my obsession with languages!)

13. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

okay. this is hard. i am a little embarassed. so i wrote for 1D first BUT i was never a fan? i was a little capitalist back in my wattpad days and i saw those stories got way more likes and reads than original work? so i was like, lemme use these men to my advantage. i also was too lazy to make a complex character of my own. so yes, 1D, then 5SOS.

14. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

hmmm, difficult! black holes is one i adore, just because i put so much of myself in it. but then i also love my short matt fics, and i also really like this one from fatws... so i think those! they're also so different so egjzrgr

no pressure tags💞: @therootsinmydreamlands @belowva @imaginearyparties

[the-ice-sculpture]

Reflecting on the Loki show

Hurray – fewer instances of cringey humour in Episode 2 than Episode 1!

Shame about there not being a single scene in the entire episode in Episode 2 where Loki felt in character

If this wasn’t a Loki show, I’d probably be enjoying it at the same level as a casual viewer of any other TV show. The plot’s interesting with a different take on time travel that I’ve seen, and there are no boring moments. But I can’t get past the lack of MCU Loki here. I just... Ugh. It’s so frustrating. No other media could get away with the main character suddenly having a personality transplant, but because it’s Marvel people are... fine with it, for some reason?

I can live with the tone and plot being different to what I’d do with it if I’d had the choice. I’ve said multiple times in the past that just because the show probably won’t give me what I want from it doesn’t mean that the show can’t be good in its own right. But what I didn’t anticipate before any of the trailers started coming out was that the Loki here might not feel like MCU Loki at all. I can forgive a lot of things, but I just can’t wrap my head around the sheer number of people who must have given the green light to all the decisions made about his characterisation. Those kinds of things can’t just be blamed on one person, it’d be a combination of the writers, directors, actors, producers...

I never thought that Loki finally getting to be the main character on screen (how many years have I wanted that to happen? 7? 8?) would be the thing to cause me to have my first ever thoughts about quitting this fandom.

I’m not having fun. I’m used to being more than a bit disappointed. I even stayed in the fandom after Thor: Ragnarok came about without much complaining, despite not being a fan of a fair amount of elements in it. I even stayed after Infinity War and Endgame came out with very little complaining either, despite how many things there were that I didn’t like in them. I even rewatched Game of Thrones after being just as unsatisfied with how it was tied up as everyone else was, and I still love the first four seasons and some scenes from later on (yes, even including Season 8).

But I’m not used to being this level of disappointed. The past month I’ve gone from having 5 different Loki WIPs I wanted to write to suddenly not being sure if I want to finish any of them at all. I mean, at least two of them will be finished because they’re oneshots for an event and I’ve already done most of the work so I might as well, but the contrast with my motivation is huge.

I don’t want to leave this fandom. I still have things I (hypothetically) want to write. I have over 100,000 words of various unpublished Loki fanfics that I’ve been working on. I don’t want them to go to waste. I want to finish what I started. It’s not like the enthusiasm for the idea of the stories has gone, it’s just... I don’t know, the overarching disappointment and not having fun in a fandom space anymore? How strongly Loki is associated with me feeling bitter and miserable now? How the show and the experience outside of it is doing the opposite of inspiring me?

I don’t to be that person either. You know, the one who has an entire blog dedicated to moaning about something. The one who seems determined to interpret everything in the worst possible light, regardless of rationalism. The one who seems like they’d never be satisfied unless something was made 100% their way, and if it wasn’t then of course it’s Problematic and that’s why it’s Just Plain Bad, and it’s nothing to do with personal taste and a certain amount of projection. The one who starts getting positive reinforcement about hating something, so it becomes a habit and before they know it, it’s part of their daily routine, and they’re still regularly doing it years later. The one who goes on about how ‘if you’re a true fan of [x] and really understood [x], this would bother you’, or worse, starts making it personal with the real people involved in the creation of the show.

But the experience of not liking the show is a lonely one. There are other people who don’t agree on his characterisation either, I know. But when the vast majority of people who watch it seem not to find the changes in his entire character jarring? When people are going around saying that it’s not until now that the writers have finally understood Loki? When you get people acting like anyone who voices any criticism whatsoever is ridiculous and shouldn’t be in the fandom and behaves like they might catch the Taint of Negativity if they were to associate with them? When any criticisms are dismissed as ‘people who just want to hate the show’?

Believe me, I don’t want to hate the show. I’d love to be happy with the show. But I'm not. This Loki doesn’t feel like MCU Loki. The only time he did feel like himself to me was during the scene towards the end of Episode 1 where he was watching parts of his life on screen. That’s it. Over one and a half hours into the series so far, 1/3 of the entire show. Out of all that, only one scene.

And now every time I see people being happy about the show it makes me feel resentful. And, no, I’m not going to add anything negative to their posts or say anything to them. If the show is what it is and there’s no changing it then it’s better at least some people get to enjoy it rather than it bringing about universal misery. I don’t want to take away anyone else’s happiness. I just to feel happy too, but I don’t, and I’m painfully aware of it.

I don’t know where I’m going with this, I think I’m just venting. 

I don’t know what the solution is either. Space from fandom for a bit? I mean, I’ve been doing this a bit already recently (not full commitment, just more than usual), but I like being able to use tumblr as an escape. Unfollow people/leave Discord groups? But there are people who I’ve had plenty of positive interactions with, and I don’t want to lose those connections.

It’s really dumb, but I like my fandom corner. I like knowing that if I post a fic, there’ll be a certain small group of people who’ll probably read it, and a smaller chunk of those who’ll comment on it, even all these years later. And there are still so many stories I want to tell with Loki, so many things I haven’t done yet, but... 

Yeah, I don’t know if my motivation will come back or not (I’m leaning towards maybe not). Or how much the fandom will change as a result of the show. I’d expect a wave newcomers, but if a lot of new fics being written are largely based on the show characterisation (and if reader expectation of Loki’s characterisation lies with that too), then I have little to no interest in it.

Oh, and another thing to add to my list of things I don’t want to be: I don’t want to be that person who is all ‘I’ve been here longer and know better and am therefore more of a real fan than any of you new people’. So there’s that.

Ultimately, I think I’m eventually going to have to choose between staying and trying to squash/somehow extinguish any bitter feelings, or leaving. I don’t like either of those options very much. It might be premature of me to post this before the show has ended because my feelings might change, but, unsurprisingly, writing is a good way of processing feelings and I’ve been having a lot of them that need processing.

In case anyone’s actually read this obscene amount of rambling, I’m okay, I’m not, like, weeping over this as I write or anything. But it’s still not a great feeling to have a place that was once my favourite place for escapism and creativity to make me feel like I might not be welcome or like I might not want to be there. And it’s not like I can easily just switch over to another fandom to write for, because there are no other characters who have inspired me to write anywhere near much as Loki has. So, yes, I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. All over a fictional TV show. I repeat: it’s dumb.

[puyaraimondii]

We Meet Again, Saturn.

I am no stranger to Tumblr, or blogging. But I am a stranger to taking power back from it for much-needed soul-searching. 

Like most millennials, I remember growing up alongside instant chat rooms and virtual pets. Formative years took place on playgrounds and malls, as much as it did over typed emojis and screennames. We embraced anonymity and avatars -- alternative identities, unearthed layers of ourselves. We found community among others that helped us realize that we were not so odd after all, and that maybe, some of the pretend characters we played was no less a performance than the act of living. 

I used to blog under my real name. Authenticity mattered a lot to my young self. I documented my daily life quite innocently and started to shy away once I entered college and social media blew up. Life got busy and more intense (inner and outer world), and I struggled to regain the solace I once had in blogging. Quotidian life was out and filtered life in. I don’t judge it. I participate in it, semi-consciously just the same. I just miss a place to bear my soul that wasn’t simply on the lonely pages of diaries. I applaud little me for being so earnest over my digital expressions, but me at 27 have realized that anonymity can take you further. 

Our world is so ingrained in performance we don’t even realize we are doing it. I am returning to this familiar corner of the Internet to gift myself the space to soul-search more thoughtfully and freely by putting soul before identity. When one doesn’t have to perform one’s identity in real life, how then can one perform one’s soul through words and images? I want to explore this with the same fervor of childhood sincerity, but with the maturity of soul that’s learned to cherish privacy in a highly mediate society and culture. 

I’ve entered my first Saturn’s Return as of December 2020. My soul is open and I take care to keep my spirit still about it. As a Capricorn Stellium, I am no stranger to Saturn’s tough love. As a Capricorn Stellium with heavy 7th and 8th house placements, I can appreciate the freedom underlying its restrictions. Saturn returns to my 9th house of travel and philosophy. I hope to use this space to help me unpack observations and simply document my journey into March 2023 more intentionally. 

I do hope for a transformation, but I will not will it by force. That’s not Saturn’s way. It being tough on me, does not mean I am tough on myself. The interpretations of how one should go about their Saturn Return productively, that I like, include seeing it as a karmic accounting, rebirth, and preparing for the next volume of your life. There is much to unpack, many lessons I’ve learned but not studied. There’s an inventory of relationships and pursuits I want to finally be more decisive about (trials of being a Gemini Ascendant). There are new routines and choices I want to take gradual steps at making into rituals and lifestyles. 

Saturn’s Return is a time to focus on self-care before Saturn goes off for another 29 years. I have much to share with him before he goes and comes back again.

[xanderwithanx]

Chloe does night-time diary posts on HER tumblr, so I'm going to start doing them here, sometimes. It would be nice if you read it, but, please, don't feel obligated! This is more for me to write.

(I got tired of my normal journal, I guess. It's full of bad poetry anyway. Besides, where's the thrill of losing anonymity in a physical notebook?)

I've basically been asleep and depressed for several days, because I had withdrawal after not being able to get my adhd meds. But, I got it today, and DID THINGS. (This is SO much better than before!)

Today, I went to a small café or restaurant (focused on tea) called Alice's Teacup that was Alice in Wonderland themed! My long-standing obsession with Alice in Wonderland knows no bounds. It was a really cute place. I got pumpkin pancakes, and some really good iced tea. Like... REALLY good iced tea.

Still, it seemed like the entire place was geared towards having a pot of tea and snacks with your friends, which left me a bit lonely. The person I asked couldn't come, and by the time I heard back, I was more than halfway there. Still, I read Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead and watched Monty Python on my phone, so I still had a good time!

I dressed pretty eccentricly and effeminately all day, but, with my facial hair, I was ALWAYS coded as a man, even by people on the street! Pastels, a stupid hat, a crop top, and facial hair was a winning combination.

On my way, I was stopped by some guys soliciting for charity. I don't make a habit of stopping for strangers on the streets of Manhattan. What if it's a scam? What if I'm being pressured to buy something? What if it's a strange political rant? But, I had already taken my earbuds off, I wasn't in a hurry, and I'm terminally polite. The first guy said he liked my energy, which seemed to come from a genuine place, because I liked his too!

They were asking for donations for a breast cancer charity, the United Breast Cancer Foundation. After a discussion, it seems like the charity helps pay medical debt, medical bills, and other practical needs, which is much better than *some* others I could name. I regretted not being able to give their minimum there, as it was pretty high, but told them I'd give what I could when I got on the website.

I... did not. Money is tight, because I'm bad and irresponsible with money, even though this is more than a worthy cause. I didn't NEED to go to that tea place, and I don't NEED to spend so much money on food. Sure, I can justify it: I wanted to go to that place for so long, and it was near the college anyway! But, if I was responsible with money, you KNOW my friends direct fundraising drives would go first, worthy charities second. Still, I feel bad about it.

Then, I went to the college library, to get books to start my thesis research. I have literally been unable to go to the college itself, aside from getting my ID, so this was great! There just wasn't a reason. It was... very empty. I went to the library stacks, which was deathly quiet and deeply haunted by the old books. I half expected something to pop out at me, as I turned the stacks, but I wasn't even paranoid or anxious. It was like I was in something else's house. I was welcome, but on thin ice.

I picked up an irrelevant psychology book on the "schizophrenia problem" from the 1930s, out of morbid fascination, and quickly put it down when it threatened to shatter in my hands.

Some students walked past (which was a suprise in those monastic basement library stacks), and I added something to their conversation, in a totally natural and casual way. But, omg the poor girls, I made them jump! Luckily, I'm the least threatening person on earth, and we laughed it off.

After a lot of hunting, I got 5 out of my 10 books (for the most part)! (The rest are, sadly, online. I like to read physical copies.) Strangely, I only came in with a list to get 3 books out of 6.

Most of the books I got are about art in the AIDS crisis, which is the core of my thesis, I think, all with different value. One about exhibitions, one about the larger narrative of those gay artists, and another contradicting the larger narrative.

I also got a book about "Art and Homosexuality". Just, the parallel construction of both "art" and "homosexuality" across cultures and times, from earliest history to the modern age. It wasn't on my initial list, but I'm really excited to read it.

Finally, I got a book called "The Thief, the Cross and the Wheel", about the pain and spectacle of punishment in Medieval and Renaissance European art. I'm mainly interested in Italian Renaissance art of the crucifixion--and its masochism--for the second quarter of my thesis.

The rest are online, and Should mostly focus on Bacchus in the Italian Renaissance (especially through art) and what I call the art of "gay liberation", concurrent with the AIDS crisis (i.e. The Cockettes). These two topics make up the last half of my thesis.

I'm SO excited to get started!!

I even got to cross the college's sky-bridges! (The college is a few skyscrapers.) Still, the loneliness and novelty were kind of the same thought. Imagine if I had been here before COVID, or, if COVID hadn't happened. Who would I have been able to meet? What would the college buildings mean to me? Because, for now, they're just buildings. But, I got to see the street from above, and that was amazing!

Just walking through New York--the Upper East Side--on a cool, sunny day was beautiful. It takes 20-30 minutes to get from my place to the college (and the tea place), but it was great being able to listen to my music (a lot of They Might Be Giants on the playlist today) and see the city. You know, people, super cool old architecture being pushed out by terrible new architecture, and pigeons.

Oh my god, the pigeons. I took pictures, but none of them are good. I kept thinking about how pigeons and doves are functionally the same. We domesticated pigeons, which is why they're here, and no one is stopping to notice them? Even the ones that were splotched with pure white, like doves? There's only so many pigeons you can take until they're just white noise and a nuisance, I know, so don't think I'm blaming anyone! But it's so hard to look away from these quirky little birds.

Also, at one point my walk, I was vaping very strategicly. The mental task of searching through library stacks will do that to you, when you already have an addiction to nicotine. I made sure no one was around, and no one would be affected. I stopped on a corner next to an old, ornate Catholic church while the traffic light changed, and I almost juuled right next to a priest! I'm glad I stopped. I don't believe in Hell, but, I would have walked down there myself had I vaped at a priest. Still, the church advertised itself as LGBT+ friendly, so maybe they aren't so trigger happy on the damnation. Either way, I DIDN'T vape at a priest today, which is good.

Once I got back, I spent a few hours watching things with my amazing girlfriend Chloe, who you may know here as @cisphobiccommunistopinions. She is so beautiful, and I love her more every day, every time I see her. God, it's almost been 5 years!

I just wish I could spend more time with her. She's in Virginia, and I'm in New York. Like she said to me earlier, I'm flighty at the best of times, and, with my lack of object permanence for the digital world, I find myself not giving her the attention I deserve, or, the full connection I long to have with her. We used to live together. Luckily, someday we will live together again! All these problems won't be forever, and we can live together again.

We watched a lot of things, but we're pretty deep into Serial Experiments Lain right now. It's a postmodern anime from the 90s, and, wow, do I have no idea what's going on in it. It's about the internet, and potentially schizophrenia as well. However, I'm obsessed! One day I'll be able to crack this artistic code, and it's unreality, thematic knots, and double-meanings. I will probably understand it better on the second watch. I don't see myself in Lain, but I see my 14 year old self in her, when I had just developed schizophrenia. Her cyberpunk fate seems like it's railroaded towards tragedy, but I want to save her, even if it's silly and irrational.

I told Chloe that I was scared about spilling apple cider on my library books, and she referred to it as "The Great Apple Juice Disaster of September 11, 2021." To which I said that it was the second worst thing to happen in New York on that date. It was funnier if you were there, and also were in my brain at the time.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm meeting some online acquaintances from the college's "Queer Srudent Union" at a Japanese Culture Fair in a park. (I do not know which park.) It emphasizes "fun"! I don't know them very well, but they're friends with the one person I know irl, so it should be good.

Tomorrow night, I should Probably head downtown to check out a gallery show by MFA (masters of fine arts) students at Hunter! After all, I was in a group project with one of them, and they're absolutely brilliant. I missed the Thursday gallery opening by a landslide, because of the aforementioned lack of adhd meds and Being Asleep, which I infinitely regret. I could have listened to all the artists and curators talk about their art and exhibition! Maybe I could have even talked with the artists and curators. But, it's best for me to go sooner, rather than later, so I don't forget. And, I REALLY want to go.

It's "This dialogue which happened to be present in all other dialogues" at the Alyssa Davis Gallery. From the email I got, "Each of these works observes a threshold of transition. [...] [These] intimations [are] of a frame of mind shared by the artists. These works perform, record, access, engage, document, and entrap, embalming the viewer within the gallery space."

sgp is a really good artist, by the way. Their work is just next-level. Be sure to check out their art, if you have a chance. Let me link their portfolio: https://saragracepowell.com/

(I highly suspect spg and the other member of my group project ghosted me afterwards, but I understand. I was really in over my head. Still, they're both really sweet and kind people, don't get it twisted!)

I ALSO really want to see The Cake Boys. They're performing at the 3 Dollar Bill in Brooklyn on September 26th. (It's only $15!) They're the only all drag king collective in NYC! (Are... there any Other all drag king collectives out there?) Other than the fact that a lot of them are trans or nonbinary, which I love, this show is a totally non-judgmental competition for over 40 drag kings! I've heard their shows are hilarious and unique.

I just have to wait until I have $15 to spare. I... didn't eat dinner tonight, because I'm irresponsible with my money and don't want to ask my parents for money... again. Don't worry, it's literally fine, and I don't make a habit of doing this!

Which reminds me! For my birthday, my parents gave me a gift card to Lush! I'm definitely going to Lush tomorrow, which will be great. I would describe my personality as "Lush store employee acosting you about a bath bomb demonstration", so I'll fit right in.

I also made a transition timeline, to show how much I've changed on testosterone. For the better, I hope! I really believe I'm becoming, if not Have Become, the man I was always meant to be. It's so strange to look back at who I was not too long ago, and to know the absolute pain I was in. It's also strange, in a good way, to see the man looking back at me in the selfies. I'm so much happier now! Much more candid in my pictures, at least. But, I know that I'm so much more comfortable as myself than I was even 6 months ago. It's strange. Sometimes I think to myself, "I don't pass yet; I'm not who I Need To Be yet." Then, I look at my selfie from today, and... I'm THERE. My mind just hasn't caught up with my amazing, natural, normal reality.

The end. I have to get ready for bed, (even though I could be partying on a Saturday night in the city. I'm lame.) If you actually read this, I am kissing you on the mouth right now. I hope it made you calm down tonight, like a terrible bedtime story. If you didn't read it and just skipped to the end, don't worry: you did the rational thing.

[aewriting]

2020 Creator Wrap

2020 Creator Wrap: Favourite Works

Tagged by @lambourngb

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (or so) favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Thanks for the tag, @lambourngb ! It was actually nice to go back and check out the fics I wrote this past year - what a long year! I wrote 20 for RNM and 3 for 9-1-1 Lone Star, for a total of 184,805 words, which was much more than I thought it was! Given the way this year went, I’m really proud I wrote ANYTHING, ha, and I feel like all of these stories hold up quite well.

In no particular order (focusing on finished fics only):

Throw Cares Away: this was my holiday-themed fake dating fic for @prouvaireafterdark . In my own fic consumption, I’ve really enjoyed fics that updated regularly, like a serial, that I could read and look forward to daily, and I decided I wanted to try to do that for this fic, and I did! I’m pleased with how it turned out, and I’m proud that I got it done.

I may be bad, but I’m perfectly good at it: so, this is the smuttiest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m really proud of it. I feel like it’s both hot and also brings up some of the challenges to intimacy that Michael and Alex would have. I was a little nervous to post it given how explicit it is, but I think it turned out really well.

I just can’t look, it’s killing me: This developed out of a prompt on the RNM Kink Tumblr that got its claws in me and wouldn’t let go. It’s an AU in which Alex ran off to L.A. right after the shed and became a sex worker. In writing this, it was important to me to get the tone right, and to make this a fairly realistic take on sex work. I’m super proud of how this one turned out - Michael’s a little younger in this, and trying so hard, but still struggling with the realities of Alex’s profession... and we come to find out that Alex has his own reservations about some of Michael’s choices, too.

Petty Pace: This was a fanfic remix posted in January of 2020, and it is a prequel to Freaky Friday, in which Alex, Maria, and Liz are the aliens, and Jesse fosters Michael. Writing this was like writing horror, with the building tension. I feel like it was a good AU exploration of Alex and Michael and the impact of trauma/abuse.

To Run Away from You: I have a soft spot for this little fic. It’s the only outsider POV fic I’ve ever written, and I like the OC I created for it, who is trying to date Alex. The basic idea around this was percolating for a long time, and just sort of reached critical mass one day.

As an honorable mention, I also love the WIPs I started this year. Vague Space and Loathly are particularly close to my heart. I am putting no pressure on myself in 2021, but I am hoping to finish up these two fics, and if you don’t mind unfinished WIPs, I definitely recommend them!

This was fun to do, so if you read this and want to do it, consider yourself tagged! Not sure who has done this/has already been tagged (and no pressure to do this either - BELIEVE ME), but I’ll go ahead and tag ten folks: @andrea-lyn , @foramomentonly , @jule1122 , @wle0416 , @queersirius , @jocarthage , @sabrinachill , @ninswhimsy , @prouvaireafterdark , and @tasyfa

[kmomof4]

Chosen, Protected, & Saved Ch. 3

We made it!!! It’s the final chapter of Chosen, Protected, & Saved for the @captainswanmoviemarathon​!!! Thank you all for the trust you placed in me after last weeks cliffhanger. Everything gets tied up in this chapter, happy ending ahoy, and I hope y'all enjoy it!!! Thank you so much for coming along on this ride with me!! I’d love to know what you think!!

All the love and hugs to @profdanglaisstuff​ and @hollyethecurious​ for their beta services, brainstorming sessions, and encouragement!! Thank you so much, ladies!!! This fic wouldn't be here without either of you!!! *MWAH* 😘

Summary: A little boy with the Heart of the Truest Believer. Demonic forces will stop at nothing to possess it. It’s up to Killian Jones, PI to find him and save him before it’s too late.

Rating: T

Words: 4253 of 18.4K

Tags: Inspired by The Golden Child, Kidnapping, Magic, Minor Character Death, Temporary Major Character Death, True Loves Kiss

ao3 fic link ch link Prologue on Tumblr Ch1 on Tumblr Ch2 on Tumblr

Tag list: @hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @thisonesatellite​ @branlovestowrite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @nikkiemms​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​ @captainswanmoviemarathon​ @jonirobinson64​ @itsfabianadocarmo​

Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

Ch. 3

Killian finally came to a stop in front of a warehouse near Boston harbor in the early hours of the morning. Even traveling down state roads and the interstate in the middle of the night, he lost count of the number of frenzied honks he heard as Bubo flew only about fifteen feet above the road and about that same distance in front of him. It made it wonderfully convenient to not have to worry about losing him.

Now that he was here, he scanned the building in front of him, taking note of the surroundings. The large, imposing structure reminded him of the slasher flicks he used to watch as a teenager. The kind of places that the audience groaned or shouted at the hero to not go in. A chill tried to work its way down his spine. He put a firm lid on it reminding himself that he had to find Henry and bring him home. Going in with no foreknowledge of this particular building or backup, it was important for him to identify potential hiding places, entrances and exits, security cameras and the like. It was times like these that he thanked God for the experience he gained as a beat cop then detective with the Boston PD before he left the force and struck out on his own as a PI. That background would surely be useful in getting to Henry.

Not seeing anything that stood out, and making a mental note of where Bubo had flown up to the building and disappeared, he checked that his piece was ready to rock in case of trouble and got out of his car. Securing the Glock in the shoulder holster he wore, he crouched in the shadow of the vehicle before he ran the fifteen or so feet to the side of the structure. Turning toward the lone door, he could feel the dark magic covering it. He could almost see the magic, even in the darkness, a slightly shimmering cascade that he hesitated to touch. Pushing back his exhaustion and gathering his courage, he reached out to touch the door and was amazed when his hand passed right through the magical barrier. The dark magic chilled him to the bone, but he turned the knob and found it unlocked. He figured the Dark One must not be too concerned about anyone getting past his magic.

As he opened the door, something oddly familiar awoke just under his skin. A humming that was strangely comforting. He remembered feeling something like it in the split second before his magic saved Emma underneath the cathedral the night before. Could it be my magic? Closing the door behind him, he took care to stay in the shadows. The main space of the warehouse was completely empty, but he didn’t want to risk being seen by any cameras that might be hidden by the shadows near the top of the building. He stayed by the wall and made his way around to where the offices appeared to be on the other side. As he got closer, the humming became a full fledged vibration. A rustle from up above drew his attention as Bubo flew down. He held his arm out like he’d seen raptor trainers do and Bubo landed neatly on his offered limb. He wasn’t prepared for the sharp talons though, as they pierced the leather of his jacket. It was all he could do to limit the scream that wanted to emerge to a loud pain-filled hiss. His magic started to crackle at the ends of his fingers as he continued stealthily toward the offices. Bubo was not thrilled with the magic sparking so close to where he sat, so he took off again.

Killian finally came to the first office, but as he peered in through the open door, he saw nothing of interest. As he moved toward the second, lightning started to spark from his hands. Killian inhaled sharply as he saw that the door was closed and the sheen of more magic caught his eye. Henry was obviously being held inside. The disquiet he felt in his spirit only intensified as he got closer to the door. For someone who was so desperate to keep him away from Henry and this case, there was a disconcerting lack of trouble actually getting to the boy. Killian pulled his gun out. He wasn’t sure it’d be terribly effective against the Dark One, if he also happened to be in the office, but it certainly helped him feel better. Not quite so vulnerable. He may have his own magic, but he didn’t have the first idea of how to use it, especially not in a situation like this.

He looked in the window of the door to the office. On the other side of the room, he could see a small boy asleep on the floor, covered by nothing but his own clothing. Killian’s heart nearly broke before an anger he had never known completely overtook him. He held his left hand up to the door, and a surge of blue magic completely obliterated the magical shield and destroyed the door as well. The jarring racket was enough of a shock without the startled cry both from Henry and the other boy in the room. Killian hadn’t noticed the teenaged guard asleep on the plush sofa behind the desk when he looked through the window. Another surge of rage filled him at the mistreatment Henry had suffered at the hands of the Dark One and his teenaged cohorts. Before he could even think, another surge of magic pulsed from his open left hand toward the youth. He still held the Glock in his right, but in a corner of his mind, he was glad it was magic going off and not the gun. The teen was thrown back on the sofa and was completely frozen, rendered impotent in thwarting their escape.

Killian replaced the gun in his holster and approached Henry as Bubo flew in. “Bubo!” Henry cried. Bubo landed on the floor before him and turned his head to look at Killian. Henry looked up at the man standing in the doorway. Something about him seemed familiar, though he couldn’t tell what.

“Henry?” Killian asked. Henry nodded. “I’m Killian and I’m here to take you home. Will you come with me?”

Henry nodded and stood up. “I know,” he said.

Killian tilted his head, puzzled. “You know?”

“Yeah. Bubo told me.” He held his wrist out. “Can you take this off, please? It stops me from using my magic. I can’t remove it, but someone else can.”

“Sure,” Killian replied. He reached under the black cuff on the boy’s wrist and pulled it off. He held his hand out and Henry took it as they walked toward the door. Before they got there, however, a chill came over Killian that meant only one thing. He stopped and looked down at the little boy whose eyes shone with absolute trust as he looked back at him.

“We’ve got to get out of here quick, Henry,” Killian said. “He’s coming,” he looked back at the door, “if he’s not here already.”

At that moment, a purple cloud of smoke enveloped him and Henry and the next moment, they were back at Regina’s.

“Regina!” Henry cried, running into her outstretched arms.

“Henry!” she exclaimed, “I’m so glad you’re safe!” She held him close and Killian’s eyes filled with tears at the sight.

Regina looked up at him and mouthed a silent “thank you” as she continued rocking the boy back and forth. She released him and held him away from her as she quickly scanned him for any signs of injury.

Henry’s eyes sparkled with happiness as he turned back to Killian. “Killian saved me.”

A watery smile split Regina’s face. “I know,” she exclaimed, “I was watching him. And you were right, Killian,” she continued, looking up at him. “The Dark One was there. He was just outside the office. I didn’t want to risk a confrontation with him, so I just brought you back myself.” She turned her eyes back upon Henry. “Henry,” she said, softly, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

Killian suddenly remembered the events from earlier in the night and it was all he could do to remain on his feet instead of collapsing to his knees in despair. He’d been so focused on finding and getting Henry, that Emma’s death had been pushed to the back of his mind. Now it came back to the forefront and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball until his complete and utter heartbreak eased enough for him to go on. His jaw clenched and his eyes filled with fresh tears as Regina took Henry’s hand in her own and led him from the room.

They climbed the stairs to the bedroom he and Emma had shared the night before. She was laid out on the bed looking so peaceful he could almost believe she simply slept. Henry stared at his mother.

“Mama?” he said, in a trembling voice. He took a step toward her.

“The Dark One came last night to get the dagger, Henry. Before Killian came for you,” Regina whispered. “He and your mama fought hard, but the Dark One killed her before I could intervene. I’m so sorry, Henry.” Regina choked back a sob as Henry moved toward his mother. “But, there is a way to save her.”

Killian’s head turned sharply towards Regina. “What?”

“Killian,” she began, wiping away her own tears, “there is no doubt in my mind that you share a bond with Emma. A bond that I’ve never actually seen before, although I’ve heard tales...” She took a deep breath. “When you got back here last night, you were both so tired that there was no time to talk about what happened when you went after the dagger. But I could see the remnants of the magic you used while you were gone surrounding you. And as I said when we were talking about your magic, it would have only come to the surface in a moment of extreme emotional upheaval. Whether that was fear, love, joy, or sadness. Can you tell me what happened to trigger it?”

Killian’s agitation increased at her question. Why was she asking him this? What did his magic have to do with anything? Especially when there was a possibility that Emma could be saved. They were wasting time!

Regina’s eyes bored into his as she made a placating motion with her hand. “I know this seems random. But please believe me when I say, it truly isn’t. My question has everything to do with saving Emma.”

Killian swallowed hard and looked down at Henry’s face. The little boy nodded at him, encouraging him to trust Regina and answer the question.

“We were underneath the cathedral, but hadn’t made it yet to the chamber of the dagger under Stonehenge,” he whispered, haltingly. “A teenager… kind of gangly, blonde headed, thin as a scarecrow, came at us with a sword.” He shook his head as the details came back to him. “Some kind of black, thick substance coated the tip. I would have guessed it was tar. But why would someone put tar on a sword?” He shook his head again, cutting off his rambling. “Anyway, he was coming for her and I threw my arm out to try and push her back out of his way. I remember feeling a tingling just before my magic shot out and sent him flying across the chamber.” He bowed his head in shame. “His head cracked against a column.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve never been responsible for the death of someone that young.”

“You’re sure he was dead?” Regina asked, her heart hurting for him.

“When it happened, we couldn’t stop. We had to keep going. But when we came back and he still hadn’t moved, I checked his pulse.” His eyes looked haunted, but his story confirmed her earlier thoughts. The manifestation of his magic at that time and under those circumstances told her that their bond was indeed True Love.

“You can save Emma, Killian,” she asserted.

Killian’s eyes widened. If the situation wasn’t so serious, she would almost laugh.

“How?”

“You saw how the Dark One removed Emma’s heart and crushed it.” He nodded. “Magic users can remove hearts. I can remove yours, split it, and put one half inside each of your chests. You have True Love for her, and that True Love should bring her back.”

“True Love,” Killian breathed, completely overwhelmed. He never knew that such a thing existed. But it would certainly explain the connection he felt with her and how and why he fell in love with her so quickly. Not to mention the way he felt about Henry, a little boy that he had met literally minutes ago. He shook his head again. He didn’t even have to think. “Do it,” he demanded.

Regina held her hand up and tilted her head to the side in warning. “There are risks that you should know about.”

“I don’t care about any risks,” he assured her, vehemently. “If it will save Emma, it’s worth it.” He looked down at the woman he loved on the bed. “She is worth everything,” he whispered.

The sun was rising and the bedroom was flooded with the morning light. Henry raised his hand to Killian’s heart. His palm glowed a vibrant gold color. A soothing warmth filled him. “You’ll save my mama, Killian.”

Killian nodded. “I will indeed, lad.” He looked at Regina again. “Do it.”

Regina placed her hand on his chest. She stared into his eyes, deadly serious before she pushed her hand into his chest cavity. The pain stole Killian’s breath, but he looked over at Emma on the bed and endured it as he felt Regina’s fingers close around his heart and pull it out. He caught his breath and beheld the glowing heart now in the palm of Regina’s hand. He looked back at Emma on the bed, and while he could still feel his love for her, it was muted. Regina looked back up at him.

“When your heart is no longer inside your body, all your emotions will be dulled. They’ll be restored as soon as it’s back where it belongs.”

Killian nodded. “This is going to hurt. Are you ready?” Regina asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he replied.

Regina placed her other hand over his heart and twisted. A pain far worse than being shot burst through him and his knees buckled. He landed on all fours on the floor and looked back up. Both of Regina’s hands now held a piece of his heart. She knelt before him and placed her right hand at his chest again. She pushed into his empty chest cavity and he took a deep cleansing breath as the agony subsided.

“Can’t say as that’s something I’d ever want to repeat, love,” he quipped.

Regina let out a small laugh. “I should hope not.” She rose with him and turned to Emma on the bed.

She moved quickly and pushed her other hand into Emma’s chest. Everyone held their breath as they waited. When about twenty seconds had passed with no movement from Emma, Regina’s brow furrowed and panic started to rear its ugly head in his mind. Henry turned to Regina.

“What’s wrong? Why isn’t she waking up?”

At that moment, the bone chilling cold of the same dark magic that he had encountered just a short time ago came over Killian. He turned wide, alarmed eyes at Regina who stared at him with equal apprehension.

“He’s here,” they stated, together.

Regina waved her hand and the dagger appeared in her hand. She handed it to Killian.

“This is the only thing that can destroy him.” Regina’s eyes were wide with dread as she gave him last minute instructions. “As the Chosen One, it falls to you. As long as you hold it, you are master of the dagger. He can’t summon it to himself. Don’t lose your grip on it, whatever you do!”

Killian nodded. Regina continued as they all ran downstairs. “You may be untrained in magic, Killian, but your love for Emma has made you powerful. Use it! Magic is emotion. Keep your love for Emma at the front of your mind, and you can defeat him. Stay inside, Henry,” Regina said, turning to the boy. Henry nodded and he and Regina ran onto the back lawn where the Dark One waited for them.

“Ahhh,” he gloated, “You’ve brought me my dagger! How considerate of you!” He waved his hand and they were both frozen in place. Terror filled him as the demon strolled toward him. When he was so close that he could smell the fire and brimstone emanating from him, he felt the same sensation that he had just experienced at Regina’s hand.

The Dark One stood before him with his half a heart glowing in his hand.

“Interesting,” the demon cooed. “Only half a heart. Where is the other half?” he asked, speculatively, “Could it possibly be in the chest of your Twue Wuv?” he singsonged. He looked back at Killian and cackled. “But where is she? She’s not here, is she?” He got right in Killian’s face with such a face of gloating triumph that Killian felt sick. “No True Love’s Kiss, then? Awww, and that’s the only thing that can save her, isn’t it? Since it’s your heart, only your True Love’s Kiss will do.” Killian’s eyes grew wide as the beast’s statement registered in his panic. “But if I crush your heart,” he squeezed slightly, the pain overwhelming Killian, stealing his breath, “you can’t very well share True Love’s Kiss with her, can you?”

Rage filled Killian and if he could have spit in the creature’s face, he would have. But at least he knew why Emma hadn’t come back when Regina placed his heart in her chest. The kiss, his kiss, was needed to bring her back to him.

“Fortunately for you,” the Dark One continued, “I can’t crush your heart as long as you hold my dagger. But I can hold your heart. For as long as necessary. I can leave you right here, frozen, until your death returns my dagger to me. But, I don’t want to wait that long.” He shrugged, in studied casualness. “So how about a trade? I give you back your heart so you can save your lady love, and you give me my dagger. The Dark One never breaks a deal, so you have nothing to fear and boy is obviously well protected, for now.” He sneered in Regina’s direction. “Do we have a deal?”

Killian’s brain worked furiously. It was an impossible choice. By releasing the dagger, the chances of being able to destroy him shrunk exponentially, plus, he was giving the monster exactly what he wanted, bringing him one step closer to being able to harm Henry. A very large step. But, he would be able to save Emma and surely, between the three of them, they could protect Henry. If he refused, the Dark One would simply hold his heart until his death returned the dagger to the demon and Emma would remain as she was, forever.

He cut his eyes toward Regina, her own eyes wide with realization. He tried to convey how sorry he was in his gaze before he turned his eyes back on the demon in front of him.

“I’m going to partially lift the freezing spell I’ve got on you now and you can give me your answer.”

Killian’s mouth and hand holding the dagger were suddenly free.

“Fine,” he gritted out. “You have a deal. My heart for your dagger.” He opened his hand and the dagger fell to the ground. The Dark One giggled and picked the dagger up from the ground. He looked back at Killian.

“A pleasure doing business with you, dearie,” he chortled as he all but punched his heart back into his chest. As soon as he had done so, he was enveloped in a cloud of grey smoke and disappeared.

The enchantment holding them frozen disappeared with him. Killian collapsed to the ground and Henry ran out of the house toward them.

“True Love’s Kiss, Killian,” he cried. “When you give Mama True Love’s Kiss, you’ll save her!” Regina ran over to him as he struggled back to his feet.

“Aye, lad,” he replied, somewhat out of breath from his ordeal, “Let’s go give it a try.”

At that moment, the Dark One again appeared in the yard, this time just behind Henry. He had not gone far and was simply waiting for Henry to leave the house so that he could strike. Regina screamed as Killian jumped in between the Dark One and Henry and tackled the demon. Regina grabbed Henry and ran for the safety of the house.

They crashed to the ground and the Dark One lost his grip on the dagger. As they rolled, each trying to gain the upper hand, Killian remembered what Regina had told him on the way down. That his love for Emma made him powerful and that if he kept his love for her at the front of his mind, he could defeat the monster.

Killian closed his eyes and let the love he had for Emma fill him completely. He pictured the dagger in his hand and the same moment, felt the instrument in his grip. His fist curled around it and he pulled the hilt toward his chest, the blade tilted slightly upward. The Dark One was on top of him now, their faces so close together that Killian could see the madness in his enemy’s eyes and then the grimace that crossed his lips as he felt the dagger pierce flesh.

The demon went limp on top of him. Killian pushed the dead weight off only to find the dagger buried in the Dark One’s chest. A dark swirling cloud poured out of the wound and coalesced around the dagger. After a few moments, the cloud, the dagger, and the Dark One, his unseeing eyes staring toward the rising sun, seemed to fold in on themselves, until with a pop, they were gone.

Killian got back to his feet and looked to where Regina and Henry had made it inside the house. He ran toward them as Henry barreled out the back door toward him. He caught him in his arms and spun him around, laughing at the little boy’s exuberance.

“You killed him,” Henry shouted.

“I did, indeed, my boy,” he said. “You’re safe now. He can’t ever hurt you again.”

“Thank God for that,” Regina agreed, hugging them both.

Killian held them both in his arms for a few moments, relishing the fact that they were all alive and safe. All except one. He looked back at Henry as he set him on the ground. “Let’s go save your Mama, shall we Henry?”

“Yeah!” Henry shouted, taking off for the house again. Killian and Regina followed him into the house and up to the bedroom where Emma still lay.

Killian entered the room after Regina and Henry. The morning light completely filled the room now and Emma seemed to be surrounded by a gold shroud spun from pure light. He had never beheld anything so breathtakingly beautiful. Everything faded from the periphery as he moved toward her. His heart raced in his chest and his breathing hitched as he beheld her. His True Love. He knelt beside the bed and took one of her hands in his own. His thumb rubbed over her knuckles as he leaned over her and pressed his lips to her own. It took only a moment before a rainbow burst fell over them and Emma took a breath and opened her eyes.

“Killian,” she breathed. Killian’s face split in the biggest smile he’d ever worn.

“Swan,” he exclaimed, gathering her in his arms, tears of joy filling his eyes.

She hugged him back just as fiercely before they were interrupted by Henry’s enthusiastic “Mama!” before he launched himself toward her from where Regina had held him near the door.

“Henry!” She caught him up in her arms, hugging him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re safe! I was so worried!”

“I know, Mama,” he exclaimed, “Killian saved me! And he saved you, too!” Emma looked back at him, pure love shining out of her eyes. He scratched behind his ear until he finally looked back at her. “He’s your True Love, Mama! He saved you with True Love’s Kiss! That means he’s gonna stay here with us!” Henry spoke a mile a minute in his unbridled enthusiasm. “Right, Killian?” Henry turned back toward him, expectantly.

“With your mother’s permission, lad, I’d like that very much.”

Emma beamed as she held out her hand for Killian to take. “I think we can handle that.”

Killian grinned widely as he took her proffered hand and bent over to kiss her again.

It didn’t take long for Killian to move his PI practice to Storybrooke where he courted Emma properly, much to the sheriff’s dismay. A year later, Killian and Emma were married, and a year after that, Henry had a baby sister to show off.

And they all lived happily ever after.

The End

~*~*~

Thank you all for all your love for me and this fic!!! I’d love to know what you thought!!!