#the list goes on. it's the first time I've ever felt I should get into this whole kin 'list' concept because of how eerie it started to bcm

[i-like-media]

Beware the blorbo rabbit hole

[moonchild1]

min yoongi fic rec list (Ⅵ)

she's back bet you didn't think i'd post another list this quick but since they've been building so much i figured why not soooo this week is yoongs and next week with be taehyung i've been reading alot lately so i wanted to share them asap so before my week gets hectic again i thought i'd post it, i honestly loved these ones i am exploring a little bit for with certain genres and i must say it like a whole new world i'm enjoying it and i hope you like them too. remember too always show lots of love and support to these amazing writers they dedicated so much time to writing these fics and they are absolute geniuses and deserve the world for sharing them with us so please follow them and take a look at their masterlists cause i will 100% guarantee that you will find your very own favourites there as well, leave the a little comment i know they will appreciate it so much and send them all the love in the world... i will reblog these through out the week and as usual minors do not interact i will block those who do.... happy reading everyone see you next week with taehyung's list and if you have anything you would like to share with me or you just wanna ramble about a fic you loved my asks are always open i love hearing from you🖤✨

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

stalemate by @shina913 f s a

↬"The truth is, I'm not afraid to take that gamble anymore...in the off-chance that I get lucky again and feel the way I felt when I was with you. I'd happily make that bet over and over."

oh, my darling by @yoongiofmine f s a

↬ starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you've held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

little bit of your heart by @/yoongiofmine f s a ft. jjk

↬You had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with Min Yoongi. You knew you and Yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything Yoongi couldn’t. Will Jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten Yoongi enough to do something about it? 

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a ft. jjk

↬ in an attempt to spice up your bedroom life with your boyfriend Min Yoongi, you suggest bringing another man into the action. Yoongi seems reluctant at first, but when you mention his friend Jeon Jungkook, he can’t deny his attraction. All that’s left to do is to convince Jungkook into participating...

after hours by @archivedkookie f s a

↬ staying after hours with Yoongi for months proves to be a mistake when your heart falls for him.

Vows by @hamsterclaw f s a

↬ You're five years into your arranged marriage with Min Yoongi, and he's never once retaliated for anything you've done to him. One day you realise you've lost your appetite for provoking him, and you set about trying to win his heart instead.

sutures by @farfromsugafanfic f s a

↬ There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?

and so it goes by @prodagustd f s a

↬ You and Yoongi have been hooking up, having dates and spending most of the week together for almost seven months. He was comfortable without a title, until the last two weeks, when you couldn't see him because of your busy schedule, Yoongi can't understand why he misses you so bad if your relationship is just sex to him. Or maybe he does, but he's too much of a coward to admit it.

collateral by @theharrowing f s a ft. jjk & knj

↬ Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

till death do us part by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Marital bliss isn't always a guarantee, especially when you find yourself marrying into the family responsible for your own family's demise. Sometimes, marriage is just a game of kill or be killed. Even when there is love involved, bullets still hurt.

grey area by @blushoseoks s a ft. jhs

↬ you spent the days staring at your wrist and tracing the skin where your soulmate’s name would one day appear. the nights were for telling your wrist about your day, as if the person whose name would one day stain itself there, like red wine to a dress, could possibly hear you. for years you thought up countless scenarios, imagined numerous possibilities, formulated conversations and rehearsed them over and over, until your mouth ran dry. outcomes and conclusions performed in your head on a repetitive loop. but out of everything you thought up, out of all of the time spent towards thinking about your soulmate, about what could possibly occur, none of it could ever prepare you for what would actually end up being. none of it ever came close to the way it happened when you finally met him. and now, after it’s all been said and done, you were left asking yourself one thing, and one thing only: “was it really worth all of this in the end?”

isn't it romantic by @jeonqkooks f s a

↬ Many things in life have a polar opposite: left and right, night and day, yin and yang, you and Min Yoongi... Hopeless romantic meets gloomy cynic. The only thing you seem to share is a magazine column but even then, you still can’t seem to understand how Yoongi can be called ‘The Love Doctor’ when he is the antithesis of everything love represents.

Flux by @yoonia f s a ft. jjk

↬ One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. (poly au)

mean yoongi by @jjkpls f s

↬ Min Yoongi asks you to take care of his plants when he’s gone. It doesn’t go as planned and well, he has to deal with your misbehaving ass.

pretend by @gimmesumsuga s a

↬ “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” idol au infidelity

naughty little kitten by @jungkooksxo s a ft ksj

↬ Jin figures out that you’re super into the idea of Yoongi listening in on you two having sex. Yoongi is super into listening to you and Jin having sex. Jin invites Yoongi to come play with his naughty little kitten.

babydoll by @jungcock s a

↬ Your childhood crush, now famous and successful, comes to visit you while you’re drunk and have a lot to prove.

eleven months by @bratkook f s a

↬ it’s been years of yoongi living his routine life, accustomed to his pace of living, going with the flow and simply existing. until you come along. yoongi absolutely can not see the logic in the way you live, but he weirdly craves it. craves the feeling of not being afraid of not knowing what's coming, being able to just let the cards fall wherever they land. and maybe you can help with that.

pause by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

darksided by @eoieopda f s a

↬ It all started with a bad joke and a bottle of Tanqueray.

three squeezes by @nomnomsik s a ft jhs

↬ Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok… and he does too. 

one-shot

bad decisions by @jjungkookislife f s

↬ Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?  

breakfast in bed by @joonbird f s

↬ “Min Yoongi, a grumpy Ikea employee, is wondering who you are and why exactly you’re sleeping in the display bed at his Ikea.”

Tricks of the Trade by @stutterfly f s a

↬ The convenience store across the street from your apartment carries your favorite energy drink. That's why you frequent it. It's definitely not because you have a big fat crush on the owner you've been flirting with for the better part of a year. Of course your brand of flirting can also be misconstrued as bickering. When a strange man wanders into the store, he thinks you need a little nudge to embrace the strings connecting you. Next thing you know you're waking up in a body that definitely doesn't belong to you. You can't decide if it's the best or worst thing that's ever happened to you.

threads by @yoonia s a ft. knj

 ↬ Life is full of surprises, just like how people are full of secrets. Just when you had thought you have been lucky enough to have your life figured out, life decides to throw you a curve ball when you least expect it. And there is nothing you could do to avoid it, except to hope that you could hold your secrets as tightly as you possibly could before everything blows up into smithereens.

under the willow tree by @orchidyoonkook f a

↬ The town outcast shows up in the one place you find solace from it’s residents. The people you force yourself to fit in with, even though you never want to be anything like them. Will he ruin your only place of salvation, or become the most unlikely friend?

mami by kithtaehyung s ft. knj

↬ you somehow have a conversation with yoongi, and you tell your roommate about a date date.

the devil wears valentino by @orchidyoonkook f s a

↬ Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 

angel by @sailoryooons f s

↬ Yoongi never meant to keep coming back. You never meant to become Yoongi’s favorite. Being Min Yoongi’s favorite has dire consequences

a boy like you by @cinnaminsvga f

↬ for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you. {or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

last nite by @tayegi s a

↬ This is a zombie apocalypse AU based on The Walking Dead, The Stand, World War Z, and elements of Attack of Titan

zombie bites by @luffles424 f s a

↬ Your friends have always been willing to assist you when you need a model to practice makeup on. And with the upcoming zombie film on campus is no difference. But something feels different this time, can a zombie movie be more than just a zombie movie? 

heaven's winter by @jksangelic f s a

↬ your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

heavy sugar by @kinktae s

↬ The Roaring Twenties were a time of great economic wealth and social change. But beneath the jazz music and colorful speakeasies were mafia led organized crimes and bloodstained cash. You knew this well, but try as you might, you just couldn’t ignore the dark and enigmatic gangster whose eyes lingered on you from across the room.

all that holly, jolly shit by @daechwitatamic f s

↬You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

calling the shots by @chans-room f

↬ College basketball captain Yoongi

until death by @kpopfanfictrash s a

↬ Jade has always shaped the island of Kekon. Mined from the mountains, it enhances the abilities of Green Bone warriors who wear it and allows them protection from outside harm. No one understands these threats better than you do, second-in-command of the mighty No Peak clan.  When a new danger appears, seeming to come from within, everything you once took for granted is called into question. Including the bonds you’ve made, some more dangerous than the others. None more so than Min Yoongi, head of No Peak and the only one capable of destroying your heart.

whatta catch by @aredheadedmess f a

↬ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

shatter me, embrace me by @95rkives s

↬you longed for him, yearning for love, yet all that awaited you was heartbreak.

you're losing me by @/archivedkookie a

↬ ❝ He’s losing you, and yet, he lets the flower die in front of his eyes instead of doing everything to save it. Alternatively, Yoongi and you are losing your love toward each other. ❞

spotlight by @back2bluesidex f a

↬ No matter how much you run away from Yoongi, Yoongi always comes right back to you.

all the wrong places by @mrworldwideshoulders f a

↬ After getting separated from your friends during a night out, you get stuck with a hefty bill – one that you can’t pay. So when a handsome, emotionless stranger covers your tab in a random act of kindness, you’re determined to track him down and pay him back. inspired by 24K Magic by Bruno Mars.

now we reign by @/oddinary4bts f s a

↬ when working on a collab together makes you and Min Yoongi seek comfort with the other, you discover there’s more to life than loneliness. Only, hurdles mark your path in Min Yoongi’s life, and it’s unclear what the outcome will be. Will you be destroyed by him and his world, or will you learn to reign over it, together with him?

stay by sugarwithtea f s a

↬ what happens when you get stranded in a remote town with no place to live except for a lodge owned by a dangerously handsome but annoying man? yeah, a lot.

when the stars align by @itskimtaehyung f

↬ With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought...

egotstic by @pasteljeon s a ft. knj

↬ The timing was never right. He loved you when you were kids, knees scraped and cheeks red. You loved him when pimples bloomed across his skin, voice cracking and he found solace in the scribbled lines in his notebook. The stars never seemed to align for the two of you, but perhaps it was because you were meant for someone else.

on the court by @centerhaechan f

↬ As captain of your school's winning women's basketball team, it is only understood that you despise the men's basketball team and their captain. Your main rival, Min Yoongi, enjoys testing your patience while he attempts to lead his own team to a championship victory. Your coaches believe you both have problems with teamwork, and insist that working together will produce a promising solution.

sugar by @zehakoo f s

↬ desperately in need of sugar to make coffee in order to ease down your headache, you find yourself knocking on a strangers door who happens to be your best friend’s friend and the finest man you’ve ever encountered.

from the ashes by @fortunexkookie s a

↬ Someone is sobbing ugly, wrecked sounds that shatter the silence in the room. You need them to stop; it’s distracting and you need to focus. You need to clean the ash from his skin. You need to comb the knots from his hair. You need to dress his beautiful body in something befitting the king you know he is… but the sobbing is too loud, and your vision is blurry. It takes Yoongi wiping your tears away for you to realize that the gasping cries echoing off the stone are coming from you.

the dark by @/bratkook s

↬ your small town thrives on the occult, luring tourists in with endless themed festivities, but the only place you’re determined to see is the mysterious club that comes to life the week before Halloween. what makes The Dark so exclusive, and what secrets are they hiding behind closed doors?

Triplicity by @kainks ft. jhs

↬ Distance is a cruel thing, and when you find yourself going astray, they are there to help remind you of just where exactly you belong.

fermata by @jeongi f s

↬ fer·ma·ta: from fermare, it means to stay or to stop. min yoongi teaches you exactly how to let go.

private lessons by @dntaewithluv f s

↬ Your little sister finds it odd how you’ve been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn’t heard you actually play even once…

first love by @geniuslab f s a

↬You learn a lot of new things in your first year of university, including what it feels like to fall in love.

↬looking for other myg fics or the other bts members check out my library

[astermath]

nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

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[section-chief-prentiss]

Maternity Leave (part 4/?)

Summary: You and Emily bring your daughter home from the hospital.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader 

Word Count: 638

TWs: pregnancy, labor, fluff, comfort, newborn

A/N: I thought this would only be a 3-parter, but I've had a few ideas in the last few days to expand this fic a bit further, so we'll see where it goes!

Ao3

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FIVE

As you waddled through the front door of your home, you pouted, having foolishly thought that when you waddled out of the house to have the baby you would be in more control when you returned.

What a foolish idea that had been.

Walking had already been a part of your post-surgery recovery, but long distances still made you winded. By the time you reached the couch, you sat, in desperate need of a break.

Emily followed closely behind, wielding your daughter’s carrier. She set the carrier on the ground, unbuckling your curled-up daughter and handing her directly to you before you could even ask for her.

When you weren’t holding her, even when she was in Emily’s arms, you felt empty—like there was a crucial part of you missing. Once you’d been strong enough to hold her on your own, you hadn’t wanted to ever set her down.

“You are so beautiful,” Emily breathed, kissing your cheek.

You flushed. “My hair hasn’t been washed in days, and I’m in a diaper. But I appreciate the flattery.”

Amelia’s head nuzzled against your chest, and you unbuttoned your pajama shirt to give her easy access to what she was looking for. 

“I can’t believe she’s ours,” you mused, staring at her in wonder. “They really let us leave with her.”

Emily chuckled. “Of course, they did. What did you expect?” 

“I don’t know; it seems like it should be harder to bring a baby home.”

Emily scooted over so she was directly beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Making her was the tough part; now we get to enjoy her.”

You hummed in agreement. Getting pregnant hadn’t been easy, and Amelia’s labor had somehow been even more difficult. Ever since you’d fallen in love with Emily, the two of you had talked extensively about wanting a large family. But now you weren’t sure if you had it in you to go through it again.

Even if the result was so perfect.

“Would you be disappointed?” you asked, unable to look at your wife. “If she was our only baby?”

“Y/N,” Emily said so fiercely that you had to meet her gaze. “You two are my greatest joys. I could never be disappointed in that.”

Her honesty brought you some level of comfort, and you took it. 

“I was thinking, though…” Emily continued. “If we decide we want another, I think I’d like to carry.”

You looked at your wife in surprise. “Are you sure? When we tried for Amelia, you said you weren’t sure you wanted to be pregnant.”

“I wasn’t sure then,” she admitted. “But I am now.” 

You raised an eyebrow at her. “What about this process made you want to go through it?”

Emily laughed, throwing her hair over one shoulder. “I want to experience everything you do. I want to know what it feels like to carry our child.”

You could’ve melted on the spot. You leaned over to kiss your wife before turning your attention back to your daughter.

“Let’s get through one day alone with Amelia before rushing to knock you up,” you joked.

“Fair enough,” Emily amended.

As Amelia finished feeding, Emily threw on one of your favorite TV shows to watch together as you shifted your daughter up to burp her. Emily tossed a burp rag over her shoulder, and you passed your child over to let your wife take over. 

Though your favorite show was on, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the way your wife held your daughter. How perfect of a mother she already was. How lucky you were to have this amazing, little family. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “Let’s have another one. But I want to enjoy some time with her first.”

Emily pressed a kiss to your daughter’s head. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Tag List:

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[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter: 05

<<previous chapter | next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

Five and I discussed our new plan on the way back to the academy.

“We need to go back, now.” Five insisted as he paced around his bedroom.

I stood by the door trying to distance myself from the angry teen.

“I know..” I pause. “But you already saw how demanding works. And also you're a kid, of course they didn't take you seriously.”

“Why is this eye so important anyway?” I ask.

He huffs. “Whoever has this eye brings upon the end of the world. I need to figure out who it is.”

Every time Five repeats that the world is ending I try to ignore it. But with the D-day getting closer and closer I realize I need to do a few things on my bucket list.

“We need someone else.” He mutters, breaking me out of my thoughts.

He's right, our story wasn't convincing at all. You need a strong narrative to get information out of suckers. So we need a dramatic person who can play a part.

Suddenly it dawned on me. We need-

..

“You know, I am so thrilled to join your guys' spy mission! It's just like old times.” Klaus reminisced with sappy tears in his eyes.

“I don't think we've ever done this.” Five retorts.

I know that the boy wasn't the most excited about getting help from Klaus but I told him if Klaus puts his mind to it, we're getting that information.

Five and I went over to the dining room where Klaus was snoring on the couch. In his underwear.

At first he wouldn't get up, that was until Five offered him twenty dollars and he bolted upstairs to get ready. We trailed after him back to Five’s room where he was waiting on Five's bed.

I love Klaus but his outfit choices have always been questionable even when we were teens.

“What are you wearing?” I asked disgustedly.

I did not receive an answer because Five heard a noise and peered his head out the door.

An annoyed look on his face appeared when he turned back around to us. “Vanya's here. Klaus hide.” He whispers.

Klaus gets up from the bed and dashes around the room, looking for anywhere that's big enough to fit his lanky body. I point to Five's closet.

He contorts himself to fit inside and closes the door behind him. Just in time too because Vanya walks into the room.

“Thank god, I was worried sick about you two.” She expressed her uneasiness.

I frowned. “Sorry, we left without saying goodbye.” If only I wasn't dragged by that little boy I would've loved to talk to her more.

“No look. I'm the one who should be sorry.” Vanya turns to Five. “Yeah, I was dismissive, and I– I guess I couldn't process what you were saying. And I still can't to be honest.” She stutters out.

I couldn't tell if it was an act but Five’s face turned almost sad. “Maybe you were right to be dismissive.” He says.

I'm not sure where this acting was when we were at Meritech. But I match his hurt look.

“Maybe it wasn't real after all. It felt real. Well like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind.” Five continued.

Five is interrupted by a loud crash that comes from the closet. I ran over to stand in front of it trying to distract from the noises Klaus was making as they kept talking.

“Then maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to. Look, I used to see someone. A therapist, I could give you her information.” Vanya shares.

Five is quick to feign a smile. “No thanks, but I think I'm just going to get something to eat. It's been a long time since I've had good food.”

Vanya nods and steps back out of the room.

As soon as Five goes back to the door to make sure that she is gone, the warm look on his face disappears and his permanent scowl returns instead.

The closet behind me starts to shake and I take a step away hoping that Klaus doesn't decide to fall on me.

His curled body leaps out of the closet. “That was so… touching!” He trips over fallen junk from the closet. “All that stuff about family and Dad and time. Wow!”

“Will you shut up, she'll hear you.” He yells.

“I'm moist.”

“What the hell Klaus.” I scoot further away from him.

Five takes a moment to look him up and down. “I thought I told you to put on something professional.”

The outfit he put on was a green button-up shirt with frilly red-lined sleeves. Honestly atrocious.

“What? This is my nicest outfit.” Klaus cries.

“Let's go look at the old man's closet,” I suggest pushing Klaus out of the room.

Five groans before following us out.

“As long as I get paid,” Klaus exclaims.

“When the job is done.”

He stops us. “Okay, but just so we're clear on the finer details. I just gotta go into this place and pretend to be your dear old Dad. Correct?”

“Yeah, something like that,” I replied.

“What's our cover story then?”

“What? What are you talking about?” Five gives him a puzzled look.

“I mean, was I really young when I had y/n? Like, 16? Like, young and terribly misguided. Then yada yada some years later you came along, Five.” Klaus rambles putting his hands on his chest.

“Sure.”

“Your mother, that slut.. whoever she was. We met at.. oh! The disco.”

I cackle at Klaus’s backstory but Five couldn't look more concerned.

“Remember that.” The man snaps. “Oh, my god, the sex was amazinggg.”

“What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain.” Five turns to go down the stairs.

Klaus holds out his pointer like a stern dad. “Don't make me put you into time out.” He yells.

..

“Like I said to your son and daughter?” The same doctor questions us from before.

We arrived at the same part of the building but this time the man had the decency to bring us to his office.

“Yes, these are my children,” Klaus replies affirmatively.

He now had on one of Reginald's many suits; it made him look the part.

“Yeah, can't you tell?” My hand messaging my temple as I throw that in, trying to mask my sarcasm, cause well none of us looked alike.

“Well, like I told your children earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential.” The man emphasizes each word to us like we are all babies.

Klaus sat in a chair across from the man's desk and I sat in the other, but Five stood up in the middle of us with his hands on the doctor's glass desk. Getting ready for round two of his yelling match.

“Without the client's consent. I simply can't help you.”

“Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name.” Five yells.

The doctor looks defeated. “Well, that's not my problem.”

I’m sure Five wished his powers were laser eyes instead of teleportation because of how he was staring at the man so intensely.

“Sorry. Now, there's really nothing more I can do, so–”

Klaus looked up from his lap. “And what about my consent?”

“Excuse me?”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“Who gave you permission… to lay your hands on my son?” Klaus cried.

“What?” Five, the doctor and I all say at once.

“You heard me.”

“I didn't touch your son.” The man states matter of factly.

Klaus slowly gets up from his chair “Oh, really? Well, how did he get that swollen lip then?”

“He doesn't have a swollen-”

The man didn't have time to finish his sentence because Klaus suddenly swung at Five and slapped him in the mouth.

I hide my expression with my palm and watch.

He inhales sharply. “I want it. Name, please. Now.” He slaps his hands onto the doctor's desk.

The man stutters trying to think of something to say. “You're crazy.” He replies.

Klaus fakes a chuckle. “You got no idea.”

He picks up the snow globe on the man's desk. “Peace on earth? That's so sweet.” He reads out loud.

He then smashes the snow globe into his head causing everyone to let out a shriek as it breaks into tiny pieces. I cringe looking at all that blood on his head.

He screams out. “God that hurt.” Water from the snow globe dripped all over his face.

The man doesn't break eye contact with Klaus but hurryingly reaches for the telephone on his desk.

“I'm calling secur– what are you doing?” The man yells out but Klaus takes the telephone right from his sweaty hands.

“There's been an assault… in Mr. Big's office, and we need security, now. Schnell!” Klaus screams into the telephone before slamming it back onto its post.

He sighs. “Now, here's what's gonna happen, Grant.”

“It's… Lance.”

“In about sixty seconds two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and wonder ‘What the hell happened?’ And we're gonna tell them that you… beat the shit out of us!” Klaus rambles.

“While making googly eyes at my young daughter!” He sobs.

Five stares at Klaus admirably.

“You're gonna do great in prison, Grant. Trust me, I've been there. A little piece of chicken like you. Oh my god, you're gonna get passed around like a…” He moves his hips in a circle to make a point.

Then shutters thinking back at old memories. “You're just– you're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying.”

Lance almost cries out looking at all of us. “Jesus, you are a real sick bastard.”

Klaus stares at him blankly. “Thank you.”

He spits out a piece of snow globe glass. The look on Five face is priceless, I'm for one so proud of Klaus right now. He never went Broadway but this was pretty close.

Lance rushes over to a long line of filing cabinets. Searching for the information that will satisfy us. Klaus sat on top of the cabinet making the doctor go even faster, fearing for his life.

“Oh, that's strange.” He says.

“What.” Five ask.

“Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet.”

Klaus jumps off the cabinet and gets up into Lance's face. “What? What do you mean?” He whispers.

“Well, uh, our logs say that the eye with that serial number… This can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet.” Lance looks up at Five. “Where did you get that eye?”

Five huffs. He walks away from all of us to the elevator and leaves us with Lance.

I grab onto Klaus to move him outside as he blows Lance a smooch before we go into the elevator as well.

We walk out of the building's doors when Five starts to talk again. “Well, this is not good.” He says.

“I was pretty good, though, right? ‘Yeah. What about my consent, bitch?” He laughs.

“Klaus, it doesn't matter.” The boy sighs and we stop walking.

“What? What, what's the big deal with this eye, anyways?” The hurt Klaus asks.

I grab onto the two men to heal them of their injuries before answering for Five who looks like he's about to explode.

“There's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. And they're gonna bring about the end of life on earth as we know it!” I say, rubbing my forehead.

“Yeah, can I get that twenty bucks, like, now, or what?”

I stare at my adopted brother with my brows furrowed. “You're not gonna question what I just said, at all?”

Five steps closer to him. “The apocalypse is coming and all you can think about is getting high?”

“Well, I'm also quite hungry. Tummies a rumblin.” Klaus wiggles his fingers to imitate grumbling.

“You're useless.” Five shakes his head while walking away from the two of us to sit on the building's steps.

“Oh come on, you need to lighten up old man!” Klaus mocks. I move from Klaus to sit near Five and listen to the rest of Klaus’s spiel.

“Hey, you know, I’ve just now realized why you're so uptight. You must be horny as hell!”

Klaus’s laughter is matched by my own as he sits next to us. “That’s not funny Klaus,” I reply still giggling. Five on the other hand wasn’t amused, he looked deep in thought not even staring in our direction.

“All those years by yourself, it's gotta screw with your head, being alone.”

Five concentration breaks, “well.” He starts. “I wasn't alone.” Klaus and I immediately go silent and stare at him.

“Spill,” I say.

“Her name was Delores. We were together for over thirty years.” The small bit of happiness on Five's face was very easy to see.

“Thirty years? Oh, wow!” Klaus chuckles. “God, the longest I've been with someone.. I didn't know for three weeks. And that's only because I was so tired from looking for a place to sleep.”

Klaus went on like that for a good five minutes rambling about his love life and how hard it was not having anywhere to stay. I yawned in desperate need of a break from whatever this was. And it looked like Five was ready to blink away.

I turned to him and signaled that we should leave by nudging my head to the busy road that was right in front of the building. He nods back at me.

“He did make the most fantastic osso buco, though. It was..”

Five takes hold of my sleeve and we blink from the steps into a taxi. “Don’t stop, just keep driving.” Five demands of the panicked driver.

“Hey! Where’d you guys go?” I hear Klaus yell as we drive past him. Five turns to the window and gives Klaus a wave that makes him instantly stand up and try to run over to us.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, what about my money?!” He shouts but we’re long gone by then. I would’ve felt bad if this wasn't so funny.

Five was bleak at times and angry, and a lot of other things but he had his fun moments. We missed a lot of time getting to know each other but, this made up for it.

“So where to now?” I ask.

“I am going to run, uh an errand. I'm dropping you off at the academy.”

“Sounds good to me.” I smile. I needed this break to rest today. It was exhausting. “Our adventures have been fun, we should do it again.”

He turns to me, “Oh yeah?”

I hum in response.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The sky turned a vibrant shade of dark blue by the time we reached a familiar street, we were almost at the academy. I kinda wanted to join Five on his errand but I didn't say anything.

I paid the taxi driver the spare tens in my pocket for not freaking out and reminded myself that I'd pay Klaus tomorrow too. And walked up to the doors of the Umbrella Academy.

“Goodnight Five!” I call out as I open the front door. But I walked in before hearing his response, only hearing the sound of the taxi driving away.

..

I found myself in a spot I always went to when I needed to escape my ‘father’. It was a storage closet-like room that had a tiny balcony where Ben and I would hang out in the late hours of the night.

But now I was by myself and Ben was nowhere to be found. So I lit a cigarette and stared at the night sky. It’s a bad habit that I picked up during all my time with Klaus, It did help me calm my nerves though.

“Y/n?”

I turned around to see Alison in the doorway. A frown was painted on her beautiful face.

“It's good to see you, I didn't expect you to still be here.” She expressed while sitting down next to me.

“Me neither but I had a busy day chasing around a fifty-something-year-old. Thought I'd stay just to see what else happened around here. Or the truth could be I just kinda missed it around here, I'm not sure.”

Alison nodded. “I'm glad you're here, we haven’t really talked at all I've just been so busy with trying to get in touch with Claire and-“

I briefly cut her off. “Yeah, is everything okay with that?”

“My ex-husband, Patrick is trying to make it seem like I don’t care about this court stuff. Since I'm missing a session of mandated therapy.” She huffs.

“Can I have a cigarette?”

I reached into my black jacket pocket and pulled out the pack. Half of it was already empty but I just bought it before I came here, I guess I need more.

“Wouldn't the court recognize that as like, certain circumstances?” I ask.

“Yes! That’s what I tried to tell him. But he won't listen at all.” Alison groaned, holding the now-lit cigarette.

I smirk. “He sounds like an ass.”

“You don’t even know,” we both shared a good laugh.

“But,” she says while laughing. “What’s been going on with you? I know that's very broad because we haven’t seen each other since my wedding but, have you been doing anything new?”

I look forward to the pitch-black sky. “Yeah uhm, not much,”

Alison thinks for a moment, “Oh! I know. Whatever happened to your boyfriend? The guy you brought to my wedding.”

I froze, my mouth slightly open and the cigarette I held between my lips fell to the balcony floor. “Oh him..”

“Did something happen Y/n?”

“No no, we just broke up I guess.”

Alison grabs onto my hand, squeezing me tightly. “I'm so sorry.” She says.

It’s not that I forgot about my ex, no I couldn’t. I just liked to pretend that he was a part of my childhood nothing more. But in reality, we only broke up about half a year ago.

“We didn’t have the best relationship,” I told her. “He wasn't the nicest guy but I stayed. We were on and off but I officially broke up with him a couple of months ago.”

She fiddled with her curly hair. “I would’ve never been able to tell, he just seemed so nice at the time. I thought you guys were the perfect match. Y/n I'm so sorry, forget I brought him up.”

“It’s okay, I mean you didn't know,” I reassured the woman.

“If you need anything I'm always here for you, you know? I don’t think we were ever the closet but. I'm here for you.” Alison states.

I wasn't sure how to respond, this was all so surreal. Telling someone how I felt was like a boulder being lifted off my chest. I was comfortable enough to do it again.

“Thank you, Alison, I appreciate you.” I grinned

“Miss Alison, are you up here?” Pogo's voice called out. The ape walked into the room as dapper as ever in his suit. “Ah, Miss Y/n you’re up here too good.”

“I was looking for you.” He said to Alison.

We quickly put out our cigarettes and turned our attention to Pogo.

“How did you, uh.. How’d you know I was up here?” She asked.

“Well it wasn't hard, this is where you two would always come when you were upset. I remember it, yes.” He nodded.

I didn’t know that Alison would come here too. All of our childhood I felt myself slightly put up against her when really we couldn’t be more alike.

“Who told you I was.. Luther.” She sighs.

“It was Miss Vanya. She called to make sure you were okay.”

“What happened?” I blurt out.

Alison stretches her legs by walking around the room. “I said some pretty

unkind things to her earlier.”

Pogo shook his head. “She’s your sister. She knows you didn't mean it.”

“Doubt it” Alison scoffs. “She doesn't know anything about me, which is fine because I don’t know shit about here either.”

That was the downside of all of us branching out, we never stayed in touch. If I had moved to a different state I would’ve never known how Klaus was doing and how I could help him. How different my life could’ve been, I mean what if I didn't come to the funeral? Life would’ve died without me having the slightest clue.

“Language”

Alison chuckles at his humor. “Sorry.”

Afraid of just sitting there, I cut into their conversation. “It has been a while since we’ve lived under the same roof, you know?”

They both agree with my sentiment.

“Almost thirteen years,” Pogo said

“Wow,” Alison and I both remark.

“How did you do it? Also in this big house for so long?” I ask.

“Well, one grows used to things, even if sometimes.. one shouldn’t.” He replies, the sadness evident in his voice.

I should’ve visited him, I'm an adult, Reginald can’t scare me anymore and no one was here. I was so close to them but still, I never wanted to come back without a reason. This place was my home for many years, yes, but it wasn’t my first home.

Pogo senses that we’re both down in the dumps. “You two should come with me. I want to show you something. It might just cheer you up,” he says.

..

We followed Pogo downstairs into one of the mansion's many rooms. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen this room before. The hallway was dark with only a few orange lights that barely helped see anything.

The tiny room was filled with rows of old TVs and controls with glowing buttons. Most of the tvs were black but there were a few Pogo must've turned on. Then he went into a box and pulled out a tape. He placed it into the TV closest to him.

The tape played old security camera recordings of us as kids, probably around thirteen from what we looked like. It would’ve been creepy if it didn't make me sad, these memories are some of the good times at the academy that I ignored because of all the bad.

Alison and I gawked at the footage. We sat in two chairs that were in front of the TVs as Pogo talked to us from behind. “Your father stopped recording years ago. But I still come here from time to time. When I'm missing you kids.” He said.

Alison was the first to speak. “Pogo, this is..” she sighs. “Most families have home movies to look back on. We have surveillance footage.”

“I hoped it might cheer you up.”

I laugh. “This definitely does.”

Previous to the new tape Pogo just put in, some of the other TVs had more footage. My eyes drifted from screen to screen soaking up all the cute moments.

“Oh my god look how little we were,” Alison tells me.

One screen was Alison and I in her room trying on Grace’s clothes. “Ohh, I remember this,” I said.

And Alison turns to see the one I'm looking at. “This was so fun! Mom always had the best clothes.” She exclaimed.

Grace's dresses were obviously too big for us, but that didn't stop us. Her clothes were modeled after old housewives of a different time and might look strange and out of date to others. But we loved them.

I moved to another screen of me, Ben and Klaus talking. We were sitting on one of the main staircases. I wish I could freeze time to that moment forever, just the three of us again.

Alison follows where my sad eyes are staring. “I miss him so much.” She said upsetly.

“Me too” I whisper.

The screen next to that was of Vanya, playing her violin alone. You could hear the sound of us children in the background and Alison’s voice while she played by herself. It was the heartbreaking reality of our childhood.

“Why didn't we include her? I mean if anyone ever treated Claire like that, I can’t even imagine.” Alison wonders.

“You were children, Miss Alison,” Pogo replies.

“Yeah.. but I'm not anymore and neither is she.”

Pogo straightens up like he’s getting ready to head out. “If you two aren’t in a hurry. There’s more tapes in that cabinet.” He nudges his head to a large cabinet overflowing with tapes with all different labels.

The man drops the key into my hand. “Make sure to lock up when you're done, things have been disappearing lately. These are too important to lose.”

I tell him I will and Pogo heads back out through the door. But before he leaves he gives us one more look. I turn back towards the screens and rethink back to those happier days.

Alison stands up to go over to the cabinet, she picks up a similar-looking tape. But above the box, there was a rusty tape. The label was gone and it looked scratched up.

“What’s that?” I ask. She opens it and slides it into a screen.

“I don’t know but I guess we're gonna see.” She hits rewind and it starts to buffer before playing. The video was harder to make out than all the other black-and-white films. Alison and I both leaned in and once my eyes focused it was clear what was going on.

“Oh god, Dad.”

…

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[stevieschrodinger]

Steve is vaguely aware that Robin is watching him. He knows she's there, at least, but this right now is more important. He's hoovered, he's washed every blanket in the house, he's wiped ledges and dusted furniture and scrubbed the skirting boards. He's on his second day, getting sweaty moving furniture to clean under it.

His grocery list is nearly two pages long, but he keeps adding to it every time he thinks of something. He can't miss anything, this has to be perfect.

"Steve?" Robin asks, as he's on a chair dusting the fancy light fitting over the dining table. It's not quite a chandelier, but it's not far off either.

"Yeah?" He answers absently.

"So, we've established that you're nesting pretty hard."

Steve doesn't answer. He doesn't need too, they've been over this a couple of times already, and Steve knows he's nesting, he's actually very very aware of the fact, but that doesn't mean he can stop doing it, not with how his instincts are roaring at him.

Eddie's been out of the hospital for two weeks now, and Wayne's working a night shift tonight. Normally, Steve would head over to the new trailer and sleep on the couch, getting up in the night to check on Eddie.

But Eddie's feeling better now, and asked if tonight, when Wayne goes to work, he could come here instead. Could sleep with Steve, who unlike Eddie, has a bed which could comfortably accommodate two full grown men, one of which needs a bit of space because he still has healing injuries.

Tonight is different. Eddie's a bit better on his feet, he's feeling stronger, so tonight he's going to sleep here, for the first time, Steve has agreed. Steve's going to go and pick him up. Steve's going to feed him.

Steve's Alphas been pretty insane ever since, trying to make his home as appealing as possible for Eddie.

"Maybe we should go get groceries? I think you need a break Steve."

And that's not a terrible idea. Buying food so that Eddie has a selection of things to eat appeals to Steve on an even more base level than the nesting, so he agrees easily.

Steve tries to fill the cart with bright arrays of fruit and veggies and quality meat and fish. Robin pulls a face and asks, "have you even met him Steve?" Before dramatically swiping half a shelf of chips into the cart.

Steve doesn't mind. He wants Eddie happy. He wants to show that he can provide.

"You know he won't care, right?" Robin tries, yet again, "this won't register with his Beta brain-"

"It matters to me," and Steve stops loading the car when he realises he's snapped at her, "sorry, I just. It matters to me. It really matters that I do this right, okay?"

"I know, I just don't want you to be hurt when he maybe doesn't appreciate all of this the way an Omega would. Hell, maybe even the way a girl might, you know? I just worry about you, I've never seen you like this before."

Steve sighs, and nods, because she's right and logically, he knows that Eddie Munson is not going to notice that Steve cleaned at all. He's not going to bat an eyelid if that house is sparkling clean or filthy dirty. He won't care if Steve cooks or orders take out. These instincts are ALL Steve.

But there's nothing he can do about it. Because of Eddie's injuries, all they've done is Steve scenting Eddie gently on his wrists, mostly to placate Steve's protective and possessive streak. Eddie let's Steve suck a mark onto his throat when he gets desperate. He NEEDS, on a visceral level, for people to see Eddie and know that he's taken. For Eddie to stink of Alpha, of Steve, so strongly that people will think it's Eddie's scent. He's never felt like this about anyone before, and he's at a loss as to how to explain it.

Eddie's on the phone when Steve gets there, Steve letting himself in quietly like he does every night, catching the end of the conversation, "don't worry Rob, I've got it. Yep yep. I know, I get it. Message received. Yeah, I'll call you."

Eddie finally hangs up, turning, a little surprised to see Steve, but then smiling big and for Steve it's like the sun coming out.

"Hey there, big boy," Eddie immediately tilts his head back, an open invitation to Steve's Alpha, and Steve forgets all about the conversation Eddie was having with Rob in favour of scenting Eddie and leaving some fresh bruises on his throat.

When they get to the house, Eddie compliments the tidiness of the kitchen, the neatness of the lounge, how fresh the place scents. He eats what Steve gives him and tells him how tasty it all is, how perfect and filling. He touches blankets and says how soft they are, how perfectly chosen. Steve's preening, so puffed up with happy Alpha pride that it takes days for Steve to realise what had happened, what the phonecall must have been; Rob had coached Eddie.

Steve expects to be hurt, for a second, but that feeling never comes. He's just happy one of his pack is looking out for him, and that his mate is happy. And he knows Eddie is happy. Eddie might be a Beta, but he still smells subtly of fresh cut grass when he's happy.

[piratefalls]

it's been a week and it's only tuesday. my brain is so tired i almost uploaded a snapshot of my dog's vet records. here's the greatest hits of everything i've read in the last week. (mind the tags on a few!)

masterlist

might blow up in your pretty face by crybabie

“I see you liked my gift,” Alex’s voice was light, but lower than Henry had ever heard it. His belly swooped at the sound. And then the words caught up with him. “Gift?” He felt the color drain from his face and frantically reopened Snapchat to confirm his worst fucking nightmare: his most recent outgoing messages had been sent to Alex, and all of them had been opened already. “Playing dumb doesn’t suit you,” Alex told him, still teasing, but he sounded muffled through the ringing in Henry’s ears. “I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting you to even acknowledge them, let alone send pictures. They look good on you.” - or, the next box was indeed full of thongs :)

When I Met You (I Could Not Speak) by @sparklepocalypse

Following the latest string of disastrous first dates with beautiful women to whom he’s decidedly unattracted, and with yet another circular argument with Philip about duty still ringing in his ears, Henry’s summarily fled to the countryside. Here at least, he reasons, there’s no pressure to woo the locals. (A modern fairy tale AU.)

A thousand dreams that would awake me by @kiwiana-writes

“It’s not about punishment.” Alex just nods; Henry had been very clear on the form that he wasn’t looking to be dominated or put in his place, so that won’t be new information. “And it’s not the pain as such.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the mug. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like to feel it, but I’m not looking for pain for the sake of pain. It’s more about… control, I think.” There’s a long silence. “Taking it?” Alex prompts finally. “Or giving it up?” “Does it sound ridiculous if I say both?” Or, Henry visits a sex club to get spanked the way he's craving.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge

“We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips. Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

Well It Ain't Missionary by everwitch

Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass. Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned. Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must. Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

all my time is yours to spend by smc_27

Any way you look at it, Bea is not meant to be here, and if it were just the lights, he’d assume she forgot to turn them off. The fire burning is another thing entirely. The weather has been dreadful, and perhaps her flight was canceled. Surely, she’d have told him as much. He should investigate.

i told myself don't get attached (but in my mind i play it back) by coffeecatsme

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Claremont-Diaz,” the woman behind the counter says, eyes wide and apologetic. Alex grits his teeth so he doesn’t say something inappropriate in a lobby full of scared families, crying kids, and the obscenely tall British guy that’s currently giving him a fucking migraine. “Due to the snowstorm warning, all the flights are cancelled, and unfortunately the room you’ve booked is currently occupied.” “Occupied,” Alex repeats dumbly, nails digging into his palm. “I booked this room three months ago.” “Yes, well, the previous occupant—” “Should’ve been out of here by now.” Alex knows he sounds harsh, he knows the stupid blond is hovering somewhere behind him listening to the whole conversation, but he can’t help it. He’s not spending what’s supposed to be his vacation alone with another guy in his room. Or, Alex and Henry are stuck in the same room in a hotel during a sudden blizzard

how do you want me? by rizcriz

“Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.” Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.” - Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Next Draft by graceofgrayskull

“This is so unfair,” Alex says, still eyeing Henry. “What?” June asks. “That Henry Fox is talented, successful, and also mind-numbingly good-looking?” says Nora. Alex nods. “Exactly. Like my perfect nemesis. He’s coming for my brand.” -- Alex has read Henry Fox's debut approximately three times in the past three months. The novel, featuring a wary protagonist coming to terms with his sexuality, is garnering Fox critical acclaim. And maybe Alex is a little jealous — his own novel generated a surprising amount of success last year after going viral online, but it just wasn't cut out for the type of buzz Fox was receiving. So Alex jumps at the chance to meet Henry at a book signing, despite knowing very little about the man himself. What starts as a bad first impression quickly leads to fast friendship, many Instagram DMs, and a whole lot of mutual pining.

Shoot Your Shot by RoseHarperMaxwell

Jimmy raises his eyebrows in anticipation. “First celebrity crush?” As usual, Alex’s mouth is moving before his mind can catch up. “Oh,” he gestures, like this is both obvious and the easiest question he’s ever been asked. “Prince Henry.”

No Laughing Matter by inexplicablymine

Ellen is leaning over him, her blonde hair pulled back in a perfectly coiffed updo. He had never managed to understand why exactly she was always dressed so impeccably in her scrubs as a dentist. But she seemed almost presidential, even with the eyeglasses that had magnifying glasses sticking out of them making her look a little like some kind of bug. She only needs a quick look before she is snapping her gloves against her wrists pulling away. “Wisdom teeth come in and then they come out,” she says, and then as an afterthought tack on, “just like you.” Or, who said a meet cute couldn't happen while getting your Wisdom Teeth out?

Love and Hate at the Farmers' Market by @myheartalivewrites

Alex and Henry both work at a farmers' market and they hate each other, until suddenly— oops! They don't!

i'll bet it all on me and you, i'll bet it all you're bulletproof by anincompletelist

“Let’s do this,” he says. “Let’s,” Alex agrees, pushing down on the handle until the door swings open. “After you, boyfriend.” This is most definitely not his finest idea. Henry usually practices much better self preservation skills. Much better common sense skills. He steps over the threshold of Alex’s room and it feels like sealing his fate. They’re doing this for Alex to win over their bosses in a lighthearted game with a harmless lie, but Henry can’t fight off the bitter knowledge that, regardless of how tonight goes, Alex will be fine, but Henry has so much to lose.

in an emergency by metacrisis

Alex gets in his own head about a meme Henry liked and decides to take matters, quite literally, into his own hands. OR, Alex gets a sex toy and other nonsense.

(Valen)Tie Me Up by happinessofthepursuit

“Well, I actually made your gift at one of Pez’s workshops, though I’m sure they would’ve gotten it out of me anyway,” Henry says, voice fond. Alex’s mind is whirring, going through the monthly calendars from Seize the Play. Pez leads classes multiple times a week, but there’s only a few that Henry could’ve attended, and one in particular that would explain his own gift… “Which one?” Alex asks. “I think that’ll immediately be clear.” Or, Alex and Henry exchange gifts for their first Valentine’s together—then proceed to use them.

More Amour by surveycorpsjean

Alex discovers something in Henry's closet that changes everything.

Confidential Memorandum by sherryvalli

"Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?" "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?" Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult. It was a little girl. "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?" "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter." Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

in bloom by stutteringpeach

Yoo, can u hook me up with some flowers?? It's the busiest day of the year for florists. Alex texts Henry with a last minute request.

don't want you like a best friend by @priincebutt

The thing about marrying your best friend who you also happen to have a very secret crush on, is that you don’t take into account how much it will hurt. When they’re around his family and Alex holds his hand so easily, like it’s second nature, it makes Henry’s heart skip a beat, but when they return back to his apartment the distance is deafening. Alex purposefully sits at the opposite end of the couch, and Alex sleeps in the guest bedroom, and Alex calls him ‘man’ like two bros who definitely aren’t in love with each other. So he pines, and he’s heartbroken already, because he knows how much this is going to shatter him when it’s over. Because Alex is integrating into his life like it’s nothing, like it’s easy and this could be their new normal, and that kind of thinking is fucking dangerous. Or, Alex and Henry get married, conveniently.

everyone adores you (at least i do) by matherine

Rain is coming down in sheets against the stained glass windows of the brownstone when the door swings open, ushering in the howl of the wind and the man Henry loves more than anything in the world. “Why didn’t you use your colonizer blood money to buy a place closer to the train station?” Alex calls from the doorway. Henry hears the familiar rhythm of the lock tumblers turning and Alex’s copy of the key to the brownstone clinking against Henry’s signet ring and the key to the Austin house on his chest, only vaguely muffled by the rain. “It’s miserable out there.” Or: Alex comes into the brownstone in the midst of a rainstorm, and Henry realizes he never wants him to leave.

know how to cover up a scene by HypnosTheory

“That’s how Alvie kisses Harry,” Alex says, squeezing Henry’s wrist. Henry’s eyes dart down to the slight red mark on Alex’s cheek. He hit Alex the last time they were together. Henry didn’t get to watch the bruise form then with Alex between his legs. “That’s why Harry wanders, but he always comes back.” Henry draws in a shaky breath. “Alvie’s a lucky man.” Alex’s eyes drop to Henry’s neck, where the diamond of his pendant hangs amid the forming marks Alex left behind. “Sure is." __ Henry Fox, needing an extraction, must rely on his part-time rival, full-time problem Alex Claremont-Diaz. To get that extraction, Henry needs to pose as Alex's date for a high-stakes dinner. They get in character - and stay that way behind closed doors.

as always, let me know if you want to be tagged, and i'll see you next week!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels @midnightsfp @sarahjswift

[atopfourthwall]

How would you rank the Ju-On/Grudge movies?

I'm not really a list guy, but quick thoughts on each: Ju-On: The Curse 1/2: It's one movie split in half, though admittedly points to the Curse 2 feeling different than the first by being more a possession movie than the normal format of a Grudge movie. It's clearly just the skeleton of the much better Grudge movies to come, with a few ideas like the multiple Kayakos that would have been fun if done with modern tech and... you know... a POINT but otherwise completely skippable unless you're curious how the franchise started. Ju-On: The Grudge: I know I've watched it, but for some reason I'm struggling to remember my thoughts on it. Not helped by me mixing it up with the remake, directed by the same guy who made this one (he's made the same movie so many times, it's incredible). Ju-On: The Grudge 2: As a sequel to Ju-On: The Grudge it works great, but it is a mess of half-baked ideas and a combination of interesting kills and outright goofy kills like the wig. Kayako wanting to be reborn is fine, but there's a lot of nonsense involved in it and she's still evil after being reborn for some reason. The Grudge: Good remake with some silliness in there and how I originally got into the franchise. The Grudge 2: Garbage. A few good kill ideas and moments (I like the subversion of the classic under-the-covers kill), but it gives an explanation for Kayako's ghostness that's completely unnecessary, Kayako plays dirty pool at a few points, the main character is a plank of wood, but it does have one good line from Kayako's mom that sums up the big issue people don't get when it comes to how they think they can end the curse: "This is NOT about a house!" The Grudge 3: Underrated! I do hate how they abandoned the nonlinear storytelling that's a staple of the series, but the visuals are pretty damn good, the story is fairly solid, and overall just a decent ghost story. Not great, but better than you'd think for a direct-to-video sequel. Ju-On: Black Ghost: Never rises above "okay." There's certainly something there with its premise, but it just feels like a big ol' pile of nothing, especially with an ending where a possessed girl just goes home and punches someone hard enough in the gut to kill them. Ju-On: White Ghost: Your mileage may vary on spooky grandma ghost in her silly Halloween mask carrying around a basketball. It's better than Black Ghost, but has so much silliness in it and there's no reason why either ghost should have Kayako's death rattle since neither was strangled. Ju-On: Beginning of the End: Great movie! A reboot of the series and focuses more on Toshio than Kayako and it works, with some neat twists and good scares. Ju-On: The Final Curse: Running on the much better fumes of Beginning of the End, just felt like a disappointing finale to the franchise, though points for them bulldozing the Saeki house (though as Kayako's mom put it - "this is not about a house!") and the first time in the franchise that two active, conscious people are attacked by Kayako at once (other times with another person they're usually catatonic). The Grudge 2020: Ugggghhhhh, whyyyyyyyyyy. The replacement ghosts are so boring and if you're not going to do anything with Kayako, why even connect it to the series that way? Has a few good moments plus the awesomeness of William Sadler, but it's not nearly enough to save this movie. Sadako vs. Kayako: Underrated! The title fight is too damn short and definitely more of a Ring movie than a Grudge movie, but the Grudge stuff delivers. It is also the only movie in the entire franchise where someone tries to actually do stuff to the ghosts. Like, nobody has ever tried kicking or punching the ghosts (yeah, I know it wouldn't DO anything, but still, everyone's always frozen in terror or running) and here comes our psychic duo to huck a rock and Toshio and for Sadako to actually attack and harm Kayako.

[littlebluentebook]

Alastor x Sewing!Reader

Hi everyone! This is my first ever fic but I have read far more than anyone should in a lifetime! Please let me know if theres any criticism. Im open to other ideas and fandoms (that I will eventually make a list for.) I'm merging some chapters I have just because they're short or make better sense that way and tried tot keep things gender neutral. If I slipped let me know and I will go back and edit! This is probably super out of character but I did my best! Hope you all enjoy :)

Chapter 1 <3

You and your husband had always gotten along like a house on fire.

Every other week a client would come in asking for costumes and repairs for a speakeasy she sung and danced at.

"-just say Anne invited you love n' they'll be bound ta let you in!" she exclaimed while picking up her newest order for the night ahead.

"Well darling I'll just have to see if I've got any sort of plans." You said knowing full well you were going to come up with new patterns until eventually falling asleep.

"Come on Y/N, Ive been coming to you for months! Don't you want to see where all your heard work goes to?" Anne was definitely pulling your strings taking advantage of your curiosity. She had a point.

"I suppose you've gotta point Anne. What time are you starting tonight?"

"Nine!" She was bouncing up and down in excitement. " I've got to get going now doll! See you tonight!"

The jingle of the bells on the door signified she was gone. You started to realize what you agreed to and panicking.

"Oh my goodness gracious!" you stressed out loud, "what even am I going to wear! Im going to look ridiculous- I don't know a single soul there! What if I make a fool of myself?!"

Your thoughts battles for longer than you would like them to eventually grabbing a paper riddled with measurements no longer needed and started writing pros and cons of visiting Anne.

Pros: Cons:

Meeting new people! Showing up alone

Can make friends Looking like a buffoon!

New possible clients

Deducting that embarrassment is temporary, your cons list could easily be eradicated by breaking out of your shell and talking to others. Plus, Anne would be there and she was your friend... kinda? You considered her a friend but was unsure if she felt the same way. Well, she did invite you to visit her tonight, at the very least she will introduce you to her friends! There shouldn't be a worry.

With your mind finally set you heard the clock strikes four. Ashamed of how long you let your thoughts get the better of you, you got back to work. The task was to complete a keepsake blanket from a wedding. You created the dress for the newlywed, sitting for hours with her finding the perfect materials and creating patterns and designs for her. In the family, it was a tradition to create a quilt from the dress of the bride using the grooms suit as a border. All the pieces were cut and you could not wait to sew them together and create a stunning memento.

Chapter 2 <3

you knocked on a door two streets over from your shop. A short lady opened the door raising an eyebrow.

"And who might you be?"

"Im Annes... friend," you tried. "She comes to me for her outfits and graciously offered me the opportunity to come a view her performance tonight."

The lady's gaze hardened, staring at you intensely.

"It looks like I have got the wrong place then, I am so sorry to waste your time," you stammered taking a step back away from the door.

"Oh Mimzy! You mustn't be giving anyone trying to see me a hard time now!" Anne's bubbly voice spoke from behind the short lady who must be Mimzy. "Y/N is a good friend of mine! Works far too hard for me and deserves a break, plenty of time to relax!"

Mimzy bursted into a smile and reached for a hug. "of course! Welcome! Sorry for being all prude- just had to makee sure you weren't anyone coming tottery and ruin what I've got going for me here" she drawled.

"No ma'am of course not! Im just here to watch my friends performance then I'll be outta your hair, away from your 'do," you explained to Mimzy while she dragged you from the door to the bar.

"Nonsense my dear! Please have a drink and stay awhile!" you sat at the bar with Mimzy talking about how difficult it was to be a female business owner. No one takes you lot seriously!

The lights dimming and shinning on stage caught the room's attention effectively hushing all conversation. Anne sauntered to the center of the stage, dress shimmering. You recognized it as the most recent dress that you crafted for Anne. It was stunning on her.

"My oh my! Look at the handiwork that went into making that dress. Must of taken days!" a familiar voice chipped. You were unable to put a name to the voice but luckily Mimzy did it for you.

"Alastor," Goodness! The radio broadcaster! You had always loved his voice, you would have his station playing while sewing- waiting patiently for songs to end just to hear him speak. "Our dear friend Y/N made that specifically for our lovely Anne!" Mimzy exclaimed.

She admired your work while Anne sung and waltzed around the stage. You were incredibly proud of your work. Every detail of that dress took so much time and effort and turned out beautifully. The fringe was all hand cut, the lace took countless hours of stitching for the perfect design and finally the beads. Each bead had to be placed individually in the right spot on the dress to shimmer. It was a fine dress indeed.

"Y/N, how would you like to make dresses and suits for the rest of those who preform for me?" As soon as the song ended Mimzy had dropped the question, ensuring she wouldn't tale any attention away from Anne.

"Oh my! Why I would be honored and ecstatic to! Thank you so much for the opportunity Mimzy!" You were so excited! Sure the flapper dresses were hard work and time consuming, but now, seeing how they looked on a stage, in front of an audience, made you realize you didn't mind all the time and effort it took into making them.

Mimzy left her seat in an excited hurry to go get paperwork for you.

"You know," the broadcaster- Alastor leaned over Mimzy's now empty seat, "she goes on and on about how beautiful Annes dresses on stage are." The comment caused you to blush but he continued, grabbing your hand gently. "I must agree with her, although the lady behind the creation of this wonderful attire is much more beautiful than what she creates."

With that Alastor kissed the back of your hand with his lips. You were speechless.

Mimzy came back with paperwork and Alastor smiled at you. The three of you spent hours conversing, telling both jokes and stories.

"Oh my!" You glanced at the nearest clock- almost one in the morning. "I have got to get going! I have to open the shop in the morning."

"Do you ever take days off darling?" Alastor asked softly.

"Only Sundays. No one is out on Sundays!"

"Goodness! -at least let me walk you home. You know its not safe for a lovely person such as yourself to be out alone this late."

"Are you sure? I don't want to inconvenience you at all Alastor."

"Of course I'm sure dear, its not an inconvenience if its you." The words were rolling off his tongue and you blushed so hard it could have matched his vest.

"Your performance was amazing Anne! You are so talented, I have definitely been missing out, I am going to come back to watch you! " Enthusiasm and pride towards your friend took over. You wanted to let her know what you thought before you suddenly ran off.

"Thank you for coming out tonight for me. Sure was nice seeing a friend in the crowd!" A jittery wave of happiness washed through you at her last statement.

"Im so glad to hear you enjoyed yourself!" Mimzy gushed to you giving a farewell hug. "Blessed to know you'll be coming back doll."

"Of course! You have an amazing place Mimzy. This is a pleasant change of scenery compared to what I'm used to!"

With your goodbyes concluded you walked out the door arm in arm with Alastor.

[immortalmsmoon]

Hello 👋🏽 Nice blog you got here!

May I please request headcanons for Joker, Akechi, and Ann reacting to their female S/O asking them to change her aunt’s heart after she shows anger and bitterness towards the family, snapping during a party which terrifies the S/O?

Phantom Thieving

A/N: Thank you so much for the request!! i am so sorry this took so long, i've had a lot of school work to do and i have been INSANLY busy. i'll try to get these next requests out as fast as i can.

Warnings: mentions of Killing In akechi's (very brief), talk of an Aunt that yells at Y/n

Word Count: 679

Akira Kurusu~

Angry to say the least

not the type to verbally or physically show that anger in anyway though, you you probably won't figure out he's angry at your Aunt

VERY eager to change the heart of your aunt.

you mean the world to him, so the fact that someone treated you with such disrespect has him seething.

when he's not Phantom Thieving, he's making sure to give you attention and affection, and is always pretty carful not to yell around you regardless of what the situation might be

sometimes even goes as far as to make sure his friends don't yell around you

Akira did not have a short temper, and it took a lot to truly make him angry.

Somehow your aunt had turned the usually cool headed teenager into one filled with one filled with anger to say the least.

He had been hesitant at first. Changing a person's heart was a permanent thing, and he didn't want you to make the decision just because you were angry. But as soon as you told him the story as to why you felt your dear Aunts heart should be changed, he was eager and ready to do it.

he put it at the top of his priority list. he ignored most of his other memento requests, instead deciding that the specific request you had given him was the most important thing in the world.

He made sure check up on you as the change of heart was in progress, taking you out around town, and making you coffee so you could have a break from your family. he new the best thing for you would be to take your mind off the situation until it was resolved.

Goro Akechi~

Not typically one to change hearts, but he's willing to do it for you

his anger is a lot more visible, especially when he sees how much it scared you

as soon as you tell him the story, he is making comments.

"How could your Aunt do that to you?" "Your aunt is obviously the problem here." "She sounds like a real pain"

it takes a lot to hold back when confronting your aunt, especially because killing people is basically muscle memory for him, but thinking of you keeps him in line

It wasn't often you came to Goro in tears. And every time you did he dreaded it.

In his eyes you were so perfect. the Personification of joy and happiness and love, and it made no sense to him that anyone could ever yell at you.

when he found out what your Aunt had done he could feel anger coursing through him like blood.

He was delicate with you as he held you, making sure not to scare you anymore than you already were.

Of course he wanted to help you. but helping others wasn't something he was particularly good at. He would try his hardest anyway, if it meant he could hear you laugh, see you smile.

He would do anything to make you happy.

Ann Takamaki~

She understands exactly how your feeling.

she had been yelled at the same way as you, and it made her angry that someone as kind and loving as you had to experience that.

quick to tell Akira of your situation, and really presses on the Phantom Thieves about fulfilling your request.

She takes you out on crepe dates and invites you to come to her modelling sessions so you can take your mind off of the situation until its fixed.

As soon as Ann heard your story, her once present smile faded.

First Shiho, and now you? it broke her heart.

She held you close for a second, her eyes welling up. She quickly wiped them away, before letting you go. this time she would be strong enough to protect you. and that was a promise.

it seemed like all the people around her lately were sad. she new she needed to fix the situation. She sent Akira a quick text, explaining your situation, before asking to take you out for crepes.

[squeeze-the-lemon]

How come no one ever told me just how good Rise from the ashes is like what?!?!

Maybe it's because this is the first case I've played where I haven't known how it ended (I watched the anime first I'm sorry) other than the Layton crossover (it's validity as an ace attorney game is debatable) so it's amazed me just how much I've enjoyed this game

Like why is it all so good

In honour of this newfound love here's a list of all the things I enjoyed from the game (spoilers obviously):

• Ema - she's fun. Not to say I didn't like Maya but it's fun watching Ema fangirl about her interests

• Scientific analysis - why is this so cool. I get to examine the evidence! Heck yeah. I actually prefer it to the magatama but that's because I have the same reaction as edgeworth does with is 'noooooooooooo' anytime I see a psyche lock because some secrets should remain secret

• Edgeworth - what's going on with Edgeworth I loved him in the previous cases but he's really shining now we get to see more of his personality AND HE GOT TWO NEW SPRITES IM LIVING FOR IT and he's so snarky like 'the lunchladys uninformed notion is duly noted' OKAY and his half assed objection because don't tell me how to do my job thank you very much and when they try to introduce new evidence and he goes um actually that's not something I will be accepting for the time being so thanks but no thanks

• King of Prosecutors - HE EMBARRASSED

• Resignation - this post is turning out Edgeworth heavy but can you blame me the face that Edgeworth was planning on resigning because he felt betrayed by the system I guess and then there was all those rumours THAT WERENT EVEN TRUE (to an extent, he didn't know) and it's just so sad and I know how he ends up but still

• luminol spray and fingerprints - like with the scientific analysis this is just so cool it's giving professor Layton where you tap the screen frantically looking for hint coins but instead of looking for hint coins we're looking for blood

• Gant - I'm sure there are posts that can better explain the point I'm trying to put across but the fact that he was able to make threats in court right there in front of everyone and still be considered reputable and even untouchable says something. Also I know he's not a great guy because of the stuff he did but somehow his last moments are pretty wholesome when he looks to the future that is phoenix and Edgeworth and it gives you hope you know

• letter - I know what it says but damn Edgeworth really left everything and told no one

So yeah I've been playing this game non stop and I really enjoyed it it was so so good

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

Witchy Woman (9/10)

64.media.tumblr.com

0.5 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | AO3 | 10

LOOK AT THIS STUNNING ARTWORK BY @cocohook38

Summary: When Emma came into her position as Storybrooke Coven Leader, she ended things with the powerful Vampire Overlord, Killian Jones. She’s spent over a decade working alongside him and ignoring the growing tension between them.

During his best mate’s wedding, Killian decides he is done waiting. He is ready to have his mate back in his arms (and bed) again. Emma is not an easy woman to woo, but Killian has never backed down from a challenge.

When Emma’s jilted ex-boyfriend returns to town and Emma goes missing, Killian will stop at nothing to get her back and ensure that nothing can ever separate them again.

Rating: E

CW: Mention of domestic abuse, blood and blood drinking (vampires), threatening situations, minor violence, death, mention of parental death

Entry for Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2023 (@cssns)

Tag: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert (let me know if you want to be added or dropped)

Killian woke up with Emma on his chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around them. Emma had built her cocoon around them both sometime in the night. Her sea-coloured eyes were already on his and she wore a contented smile while she twirled her finger in the patch of hair on his chest. 

“What a lovely sight to see upon waking, Swan.” 

“I've been admiring the view myself,” she said before placing a chaste kiss on his chest. 

He ran his hand along her side, squeezing her tight to him as he did so. Her soft skin pressed against his beneath the blankets. Everything was perfect. These moments were becoming more frequent - they were no less precious in their frequency. With these once fleeting moments of warmth, contentedness, and connection becoming commonplace between them, their relationship felt more real, more substantial, than it had before. She wasn’t going to vanish from his grasp between one second and the next. 

“I need to get up and shower and help Anna with the beach party preparations and…” Killian interrupted her task list with a sweet kiss.

“Let’s start with the shower - that is something I can help you with.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Emma shifted off him to the en suite. “But after coffee, I have to go.” 

“Hmm, that is a while from now,” Killian answered as he followed her into the bathroom to run the water for them. He tugged her into his shower and water engulfed them from all sides. He chuckled at the deep groan that she released when the side jet nearest to her hit her lower back. He kneaded his hand and his blunted arm into her lower back muscles, enjoying the sounds of her sighs and moans when he hit upon a particularly sore spot. 

“I’m never going to leave if you keep this up.” 

“That’s the plan, love.” Killian smiled cheekily at her as she turned to hug him in the warm water. 

“This is nice.”

“Aye, that it is.”

“I like waking up with you,” Emma admitted softly. Killian broke their embrace to lather soap on them both.

“Should you move in with me, we would never need to wake up any other way.” Killian hadn’t intended to ask her, but he did not regret it. He wanted her to be the first thing that he saw every morning, the blanket thief in his bed each night, the clothing left strewn about the immaculate house, the other coffee cup on the counter top, and all the thousands of tiny things that are involved in sharing a life together.

“Hmm. You want me to move in with you so that we can always wake up together?” 

“Aye. That’s one reason.” He answered after they rinsed off the soap. 

“Not the only one?”

“There are so many reasons that I want to share a home with you, Emma. Move in with me and let me show them to you?” 

The water seemed to roar more loudly in the quiet that followed. Time slowed in that cruel way it does when the next second will irrevocably impact your life. Perhaps, it is meant to help you prepare in case the ensuing second arrives ready to break you beyond repair. Maybe it is less malicious than that, a moment stretched out so that you know to pay attention and be fully present because what happens next matters. 

Killian intently watched as thoughts and emotions flickered wildly behind Emma’s eyes, as she drew in a breath to answer, as she formed the words that propelled time suddenly forward.

“You do have a kitchen full of my favourite snacks,” Emma smiled excitedly up at him. His heart was cliche as it soared with joy.

“Aye, and these plush towels you love so much,” he said, wrapping her in a towel as they stepped out of the shower. 

“And, that insanely large and comfortable bed.” 

“Aye, and coffee,” he offered, “with cinnamon.”

“All with the vampire that I love.” 

“All for the witch that I love.” 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

The connection that they’d forged between them last night felt like a thread pulling and guiding them together. It was a bit strange at first - when she left to catch up with Anna, it had felt like a rubber band angry with being stretched to its limit. But, it quickly became a comfort, especially, after all the time they’d spent apart. 

As he went about his day, checking security for the beach party and of the town, he grew accustomed to the gentle nudge at his chest urging him ever closer to her. At times, he was sure he could detect echoes of emotion that belonged to his witch. 

There was also a new awareness of the strands of magic flowing around him and through him that he knew meant he’d absorbed some of her powers. He was a magical creature, his magic was an essential part of his being and ruled him, but her powers gave her control over magic. He wanted to explore this with her further, to ensure he could use her gifts without a cost to her and to experience the world as she did. Plus, he thought up some positions and games for them to try once he learned how her telekinesis worked. 

He was completing a final check of the security plan for tomorrow’s event before heading to the beach party when he received an email from Smee reporting a new possible security risk. 

“Bloody,” Killian cursed as he opened the missive. He couldn’t afford to overlook any potential situation just because he was anxious to get to the beach. 

He skimmed the report - a non-issue. But, he’d been delayed far longer than he wished. He shut down his computer and cleaned off his desk when the echoes of emotion that had accompanied him through the bond all day fell silent. 

His heart pounded as he pulled out his phone and called David. He was travelling at the height of his vampiric speed, the beach almost in view, as he listened to the phone ringing out. 

The band was playing and the party was in full swing when he reached the shoreline. The tether to Emma tugged him away from the party. Fear that didn’t belong to him crawled up his spine - Emma. 

“Hey, it’s David. Leave a message.”

Killian cursed, waiting for the beep. “Something has happened to Emma. I am tracking her and sharing my location with you. When you get this, find me. See you soon, mate.” 

He followed that wonderful tug toward the abandoned mines. When he reached the entrance,  he caught her scent mixed with another he knew well. Smee? 

As if in answer to his question, Smee emerged from the dark. 

“Sire?”

“Mr Smee,” Killian acknowledged. “Why aren’t you at your post?” 

“I got a call about some werewolves causing trouble nearby. I came to check it out.” 

Liar. The thought came from the magic swirling around him - Emma’s lie detector was more literal than he ever considered. The betrayal stung for a moment. The way his scent was so intermingled with Emma’s suggested that Smee was a part of what was happening with Emma. He wanted to demand answers, to hurt Smee the way Emma’s fear was hurting him, but he had to get to her. He didn’t want to waste time on Smee’s games. 

He smiled at Smee, all teeth and predator. Smee had a moment to process the threat before Killian rushed him and tore his head from his shoulders in one quick movement. He left the body and head at the mouth of the shaft and entered the mine. 

He could feel the anger radiating from her through the thread that connected them now. Anger meant she would find a way to fight, that would buy him time to reach her.

As he raced deeper into the mine, Killian’s chest started to burn as if it were being set on fire. What the fuck is happening? 

He set his teeth against the crippling pain and pressed on. He encountered a few weak werewolves blocking his progress. A wave of his hand sent them into the rock wall, knocking them out, and clearing the way forward. 

Screaming bounced around the dark walls around him and the scent of Emma’s blood was thick in the air. A growl tore through him as rage, red and hot, overtook him. He stormed forward, entering a cavern lined with sigils and one large stone slab where Emma was restrained and screaming as she battled a force he could not see. 

Regina and Neal stood in the space, watching the brutal scene unfold before them. Regina’s mouth was moving quickly, chanting the spell that was attacking Emma. Neal turned to face him with a broad smile on his face. “She’s going to be mine, now,” Neal gloated in way of greeting. 

Killian flung him against a wall to be dealt with later and turned his attention to the witch harming his mate. He darted toward her. She raised an arm, suspending him in mid-stride. Her chanting continued as she held him with little effort. He fought against Regina’s magic with all his strength but failed to overpower her magic, failed to stop Emma’s suffering. 

Regina smiled. 

Now would be a fantastic time to arrive, David. 

Killian stopped fighting against Regina’s power. It wrapped around him and held him in place. A witch’s magic would always be more powerful than the raw strength of either a vampire or a werewolf. It was how the gods kept the balance between the creatures. He just needed to figure out some other way to best her. 

An itch in his fingers alerted him of a change in the magic restraining him. It was gathering at his fingertips, aligning with the magic at his call, no longer holding him in place but awaiting his commands. 

He snarled forcing the magic back into Regina. It halted her chanting before tearing her into pieces from the inside out. A pile of purple dust gathered where the villainess had just stood. “Bloody hell.” Emma’s magic was a truly terrifying and wonderful thing. 

Turning to the slab, he waved away her restraints and pulled her into his arms. She was unconscious as he turned to take her out of this hell. But she was safe, now. He gripped her tight to him, the relief of her heart beating against his chest almost brought him to his knees.

“I think I hear something in this direction.” 

“David, my magic says they are this way.” Mary Margaret’s voice rang out through the tunnels. 

“Mary Margaret. David. We’re here.” Killian called, his voice breaking with emotion. She’s safe, now. She will be okay. 

§§§§    §§§§    §§§§    §§§§

For every day that Emma did not wake, Killian carved a reminder into Neal’s flesh. For every time she called out Killian’s name during her endless slumber, he would break a bone, heal it, and break it again. The hisses and cries of her tormentor did very little to ease his anger, but even a drop of water is worth collecting if you’re dying of thirst. 

He entered the cell holding Neal, for now, ready to claim his flesh as the seventh day passed without any change. They had healed her with his venom, the bones in her hand knitted together days ago, her body was healthy but her mind was still out of reach. He felt like he was slowly losing parts of himself every day she stayed in this state. Perhaps, it was why he was enjoying taking parts from Neal so much. 

Neal looked up as Killian entered, the fear behind his eyes dulled from the day before, and his posture seemed resigned but no longer hopeless. A dark feeling crept through Killian, his jaw clenching against it.

“How’s Ems?” 

“You don’t get to ask.” Killian shut the door behind him, the lock engaging automatically behind him with a quiet click. “I do apologise, Neal, for you seem to have mistaken yourself for a guest in my home. Or a plaything that I intend to keep around for some time.” 

Neal’s eyes widened and the sharp acidic scent of fear filled the air as it dawned on him that tonight was going to be different than the previous six. Killian’s smirk was all hungry predator toying with his prey. “I assure you that I intend to rectify those misconceptions most thoroughly before I leave tonight. I am afraid that does mean that you won’t live to see tomorrow, mate.”

Killian smiled when Neal rallied his courage to make a last stand against him. He was hungry for a fight. Neal attacked first, lunging for Killian with his fangs extended as if they would pose any threat to Killian. Killian laughed without humour knocking the weaker vampire to the ground. He put his boot against Neal’s arm, pinning him to the floor. 

“She will never forgive you for killing me.” Neal spit out. Killian increased the pressure on Neal’s arm until a satisfying crack split the air. Neal grunted in pain, tears leaking from his eyes.

“She doesn’t like you nearly as much as you’ve told yourself,” Killian said smoothly. 

“She’ll leave you. That’s what she does.” Neal’s voice was between a whimper and a whine, a pathetic sound befitting the creature he was. 

A light knock at the door prevented Killian from responding. Killian’s heart squeezed in his chest, he knew what that knock meant. 

“Goodbye, Neal.” Killian dug his hook into Neal’s chest piercing his black heart. Neal pulled in one last wheezing breath before Killian grabbed a fistful of his hair. “I can’t say you’ll be missed,” Killian growled as he pulled. 

Killian kicked the heap of Neal’s body before turning on his heel and leaving the cell. David stood outside of the door. He nodded slightly to Killian, a small smile tugging at this lips, as Killian emerged from the room. Pulse racing, Killian turned to the guard he’d posted at the door, “Will, dispose of the tosser and ensure he is properly turned to ash.”

“Yes, sire.” 

“Good man.” Killian made his way back to his room in the best spirits he’d been in all week. 

Emma was waking.

[larsnicklas]

hockey writing appreciation club part iii (part i here, part ii here) hi everyone!! you know what time it is! i've collected another handful (and then some) articles i've really enjoyed over the past few weeks! support good writing, support good sports journalism — with clicks and with subscriptions if that's in your ability/inclination! hope you enjoy some of these; my particular favorites in this batch are the pius suter piece and the coyotes story. as always, i welcome recommendations if you have them!!

remember that a "🔒" implies a paywalled article, but this is often easily worked around by entering your browser's "reader mode"!

NHL graybeards still find ways to make major impact In most any other field, Pavelski, at 39, would be viewed as someone who has much of his career ahead of him. If he were named CEO of a company, he'd be on a "40 under 40" list or might be talked about as the next great innovator. But when it comes to hockey and other pro sports? There's a belief that being 30 -- let alone 35 or 40 -- and still productive is something just short of a miracle. And for the record, Pavelski said he has not found a gray hair.

The Cyclist: Pius Suter’s clinching goal and the secret behind Canucks’ success 🔒 Although Suter still drives to games, he goes about town mostly on his bicycle. Most days, he cycles into practice on a racing bike with narrow tires; he did so even during massive February snow storms, to the amusement of his teammates, support staff and management. “It’s Canada,” Suter said, “you’d think they’d clear the roads! At least, I did. “Honestly, it feels like home. I played in Zurich, biked always to practice and games and I love not having to use the car.”

Marie-Philip Poulin and the PWHL have yet another landmark moment: ‘It’s a movement’ 🔒 But the building was still mostly empty, and still, for Marie-Philip Poulin, a living legend, this was a lot to take in. She skated over to the bench for an interview with the arena hostess that would go live in the building, and the first question was about how she felt in this moment, in this environment, on this stage, about to play a professional hockey game in her native Quebec in front of this many people. In front of this many of her people.

What really happens during NHL intermissions? The naked truth 🔒 When the clock strikes zero at the end of each period, we watch the teams filter off the ice, down a tunnel and into their respective locker rooms. But what’s really going on back there while we hit the restroom, maybe grab a $14 beer and $7.50 hot dog?

Inside the Coyotes' stunning move from Arizona to Utah In April, Smith posted to X asking fans for team name suggestions should the NHL ever come to Utah. That was a huge tell to the hockey world: This was happening. But back in Arizona, players and coaches were still in the dark. For all they knew, there was a plan in motion that would keep them in Phoenix. What they didn't know was how little faith the NHL had in it being executed by this ownership group, and how badly it wanted the Coyotes out of Mullett Arena.

What makes Macklin Celebrini the next big thing in hockey On a Saturday night in January 2023, the Golden State Warriors had an off night in Chicago. Draymond Green didn't want to go to dinner or out on the town. He had another idea: going to the suburbs to watch junior hockey. "​​How often do you get an opportunity to see Sidney Crosby at 17?" Green reasoned. The next big thing in hockey is Macklin Celebrini, the unanimous No. 1 prospect of the 2024 NHL draft class. Celebrini is also the son of Rick Celebrini, the Warriors vice president of player health and performance.

Pursuit of perfection drives Kucherov's intense summer training If you walk through the sliding glass doors and into the lobby of TGH Ice Plex on a weekday morning, it's quiet. You may find a staff member answering a call at the front desk or spot an employee from the pro shop carrying cardboard boxes filled with equipment. That's about it. But if you walk to the right and peek out to the south rink, you'll probably find Nikita Kucherov.

How use of analytics is part of Colorado Avalanche’s secret sauce: “Numbers are unemotional” One of the key aspects of how Bednar and his staff help the players connect with and absorb the data is not the numbers themselves. Most players aren’t going to care if tonight’s opponent is creating X shots in the slot area on the power play per game, or Y shots from the right faceoff circle. But tell them a team is fourth in the league in one category or 30th in another — and then supplement it with video clips — and the information hits home.

What are NHL series supervisors? How unseen officials help teams, league coordinate during playoffs 🔒 The supervisors travel as the series shifts cities. They are there whenever the clubs need to meet. The other important part of their job is meeting with referees and linesmen, who rotate from series to series. Supervisors fill them in on what’s been happening in the series — what the temperature of it is, the issues each club has raised in meetings, etc. That gives the refs a sense going in of what to look for that night in the game.

Connor Bedard's first season has lived up to expectations When the 18-year-old's jaw broke, everything he had been building for was cruelly interrupted. "It's not fun not to play," Bedard said. "I was dying to get back." One week after surgery to repair his fractured jaw, Bedard convinced trainers to allow him to skate. Solid foods were out, so he drank as many soups, smoothies and supplements as his body would allow, desperate not to lose weight.

[hollisartsblog]

Sorry for the long post, I just felt like I needed to get it out, if you want to read I'd be happy, if not, it's okay!

reading for the first time after almost 5 years what I used to write and think about late at night, and now I feel like doing it again, trying to find the right words.

I wanna talk about being in the moment as an artist, appreciating what you do, and not giving a fuck. (and loving ur young self)

I spent my teenage years drawing and posting here, so I had a lot to read tonight and to think about.

have u ever experienced that strange feeling, where you are like "wow. I was actually so beautiful and smart, who could have ever hated me?"

I was a completely different person, and maybe I miss that little girl, and maybe I hate her even a little. now, I'm not here to talk like I'm in a psychoanalyst's deckchair, of course. but I'm here, to resume the beautiful, however embarrassing in my opinion, habit of writing my most intimate thoughts (shareable, of course) that cross my mind at night, because maybe they can help someone, because we are never alone. just as they helped you years ago, just as it has helped me re-reading them now after all this time. I've had some crazy years. I was young, I was passionate and genuinely free to do whatever I wanted. I had friends, I had just sold a self-published book, I had "fans", I was "successful", I had good grades, I had a girlfriend, yet I wasn't happy. I know it sounds like the usual sweet story about happiness and self-satisfaction, but I don't think so (and even if it was, well, here we are ;) ) I didn't realize how necessary EVERYTHING that was happening to me was.

artists have a huge difficulty accepting that sometimes we have to look inside and accept that we have to constantly learn, instead we are always in a hurry to be perfect, to get likes, to earn, but that's not how it goes. I was literally 16 and already thinking about this, thinking I must be good enough to please everyone.

spoiler: you can never do that.

as I said years ago, our eyes are not the right eyes to judge us.

appreciate the compliments, don't dismiss them with an embarrassed smile. appreciate the effort and hours put into a work even if it is bad for you. hug your self when after a bad day you still have the courage to do what you love. being an artist is beautiful, but a huge burden, especially for us. remember that when our insecurities take over, we are not lucid.

yes, that drawing u posted that got 8 likes made 8 people feel something. how amazing is that?

yes, it will be fine, that text you wrote will be something new in someone's eyes, it won't be something read and re-read to make it perfect. you will amaze and make someone fall in love with what u did.

internet is an amazing place, and sometimes it's not. I got myself into a really bad place because I was too immature and too impatient to immediately be the artist I always felt I was, but NO ONE is after you with a clock ticking away time.

you really think someone care about how much time does it take you to get to your goal? why should it matter? I'm not going to list every single successful person who actually made it and tell you "look! they were poor now they are rich, so u can do it!". i'm telling you to always love the process; I would've punched myself in the face, I hated when adults told me this phrase, but it's true: everything pass. you are not gonna be like this forever. you are gonna love what you do one day, and love life because life takes but gives.

(tw: mental health) I spent years between psychologists and suicidal thoughts, I was never enough, and my art not only made me feel miserable, but it was one of the first reason I fell into depression. it always reminded me how plain, boring, and uninspired I was.

there was never anything that was right in what I did, every comment and every ask you sent me had no weight for me, they meant nothing because I didn't I believed in myself, yet I should have tasted it. now I reread them crying, not believing what I read. I was talented, man, I was full of ideas, I was amazing. I lost that spark, because of fear, of waiting for the right moment. i sabotaged myself because i was afraid of judgement, of pressure, when i had love around me, everywhere.

now I'm in Florence, far from home, studying in a private academy of animation and digital art. would I ever have thought that? absolutely no. I deserve it? Yes. because I, like you artists, have grown, we have learned, and I'll tell you this once and for all: do not give up. things are really getting better. now I'm not saying that because I magically healed and I love my art all of the sudden (unfortunately, I still really struggle) but please don't look at likes, followers. you're good, just because you love what you do, literally that's all that matters. I took a long break, now 2 years, because, as much as I didn't want to admit it, I was starting to hate what I was doing, it had become an obligation, a simple circle to mark before going to sleep on the to-do list. to alone.

16 years old. and it wasn't right.

love what you do, take breaks, post without checking a thousand times, show your work, accept compliments. you have created something, and that is enough.

look at you past as an amazing book you just read, the satisfaction coming from all the pages you already read and learnt from, now you are a different person thanks to them. look at you future with the same excitement when you still have a lot of those pages to read.

[neowollymoxie]

Ok so haiii~ my name is Mary,Jane call me Jane this is my introduction post and my review series so it will work like this:

Every single fic in epithet erased (ao3)will be named here and will be connected to separate post with the review of that fic it will be reviewed in two ways

1:how good it is to me

2:how good it from a purely non biased standpoint like it doesn't matter if I'm not a fan of the concept and or characters but if it's well written it will get a good score

The scores will be 1-10

With no criteria whatsoever just how I felt about it.

There will be an explanation for each score bias and non bias

And like I said all fics will be named here whether or not I have reviewed it yet so fics will be here despite me not reading or reviewing them yet

How do you know if it's been reviewed?

It should glow green, and when you tap the name of a fic it should link you to the review

If the text is white it hasn't been reviewed and obviously new fics will be added

And final note! I will NOT be reviewing crossovers with characters I do not know for example the total drama island esq fics with characters I've never heard off obviously I won't be reviewing them and will therefore not be added here

ALSO!

I will be ranking them aswell! With these symbols for the non bias and biased ranking

#(X) bias

#(X) non bias

If you cannot guess which is which you shouldn't be on Tumblr

And I will be referring to the first ever fic as #1 until dethroned by which ever one beats it

So for example crime and breakfast might hold the number #1 spot for a while but it DOESN'T necessarily mean it's number #1 it's just means it's number one so far! And this goes for every ranking until I come to the end of the list?

Got it?

(also I didn't list all of them because I didn't want to feel overwhelmed,so I'll ad them after I finish this first batch)

Here is the list! Oldest UPLOADED to present day:

Crime and Breakfast. #1 bias #1 non bias

just so that no one will ever know. #3 bias #3 non bias

Oh,the places where you'll go. #2 bias #2non bias

He ate the tomato didn't he.

Healing gunslinger.

The tip jar.

Sometimes,it's Better to Forget Responsibility.

Drowsy Dumb Soup.

The Hunts Conclusion.

A Trip To Larry's.

Comfort.

Get well soon.

How to Take Care of Sick People 101!.

Strangle you,strangle me

Insud and Mera go to McDonald.

Drowsy Means You Sleep When You Want.

Magazine coupons.

Out of routine.

Howdy officer.

Sweet dreams are made of these.

_________________________________________

Giovanni saves the day.

The local gays go to a bar.

Sleep with the light on.

Toy time.

TLcoupons.

A Plague of nightmares.

A hospital visit.

Stargazing.

Why are you looking so beautiful to me now when you're so sad?.

Jailbirds.

Pinched.

Tough love.

Sleep is for the weak (and other things teenagers tell themselves).

Breaking gold.

Oh what a wedding it was.

Attornment doesn't mean forgiveness.

Holiday hijinks.

The confession.

But we're safe here,under the sheets.

Killing tension.

Scritchy scratchy.

Kinnie Rights.

_________________________________________

[kimyoonmiauthor]

Reviews and Critiques and how to handle them.

So the second best treaties about this was Holly Lisle's Mugging the Muse (2000), which, BTW, I read much later, because she'd stepped down by then from Forward Motion. At the time I read it, it was free, but now it's paywalled, so it has gems in there, the most useful of which is don't jump on paychecks and budget. Learn how to do Writer Tax returns. Remember to truly LIVE to write better *cough Barthes should have known this one. And the last one is how to take critiques.

The one on critiques goes like this: She used scream and shout when she got critiques and sometimes cry. She'd go into the bathroom and scream and let her do this. And then force herself to act professionally. The BEST of us at this process still fucks up once in a while. The trick is to not fuck up too often.

This is my second best treaties I've seen and heard about it. The first treaties I ever learned about how to take critiques is from my former teacher/advisor, Thomas C. Joyce, who unfortunately died of cancer some years back.

I do remember the names of the people. But as I don't have permission to use their likeness and I don't want them to be harassed. The people who are living (as far as I know) I will not name. I am also including my own fuck ups, because it's only fair. But the core of this is mostly Tom Joyce. Who said something on the order of don't call me "Mr. Joyce, it makes me feel weird. Call me Tom."

He was my advisor at the Young Writer's Camp–a summer writing camp. For this reason, I'll call him Tom.

I wanted to write this treaties out because he never wrote it anywhere... and I might remember parts of it wrongly, but I 100% used this to post to Nanowrimo's first critique threads, and then for the critique forums, which served as the core of a lot of critique groups online?? (not sure about that). And I listed the rules he gave me during critiques. Also that there has been a rise in people who can't take or give critiques and they think doing so won't help their writing. So, I won't write it as eloquently as him, and honestly I'm writing this quite sad because I do wish it was his words here instead of my fuzzy memories of him.

Let me dip a bit into memory lane first, so you get a sense of who Tom was. Tom smoked. He knew he smoked a lot and didn't particularly care. He liked to give this lesson on perception. with music, showing that the simpler things in life aren't always first. And that the source of stories can come from anywhere–not just writing.

When I met him he was a bit portly, which he'd sometimes point out about himself and had salt and pepper hair, which was curly. He'd often talk about how he wanted to lose weight.

He had this calm and cool demeanor about him, but also warm. So when he gave you a critique, it felt like he was reaching into your writerly soul and he could pull out your intentions in an instant. He not only saw where you were, but more importantly, where you were going and intended to go. I aspired to be that sort of critiquer.

He never judged you on your process to write. He had no lessons about that. And he based the entire time around critiquing and making sure you had something for the group. If you wrote on clay tablets, I think he wouldn't care. He'd likely joke loosely about it, but he wouldn't care and say, can you share it?

We did not write the same genre. We did not have the same process to write by a long shot. I never really read his writing and since he was an advisor, he rarely talked about his own writing or boast. He was a cool character because he was HUMBLE and he pressed it into you that YOU MUST STAY HUMBLE at every point of the process. Brave enough to share, but humble enough to take critiques.

He loved anedotes. I probably got my love of making up extended analogies from him.

He was not just a good writing teacher he was the BEST writing teacher I've ever had. And fuck it—I've read a TON of ass novel writing manuals from Aristotle to the present and I've heard author interviews all over the best, I would rank him as the best.

He was so memorable that when I finally got something published he was on my top list of people to show because I'd promised myself I would do so, but when I looked him up so I could pass the story to him, I had found that he'd died of cancer. I was DEVASTATED.

The fact we didn't write the same didn't matter because his lessons around critiquing. His process was this:

You write. You get critiqued. You take the critique gracefully to your face. You learn to critique. You learn both of these processes and perfect them and apply them, and you get better as a writer. He had several large arguments for this process and why he didn't want it to be regimented into telling people how to write.

Remembering his lessons, I posted his loose list of critique rules to early Nanowrimo boards–I posted the first critique threads for first pages and queries, but never his justification for them, because I didn't think it was my place to, but he's not published it himself and I think the internet is forgetting. And I don't think we should forget Tom Joyce since he taught me some really excellent lessons that I think you need to know.

So loosely, Tom's treaties on taking a critique goes something like this:

On receiving a critique:

Stay silent when people critique you. No. Hold your tongue (Fuck, I'm really still working on this one).

Remember any time they put into the critique is a blessing.

Only open your mouth to fact check the person. If they think the US flag has green, you can POLITELY correct them.

Stop explaining your work before you give the piece. He taught me this one. I still struggle with it. I still repeat the advice, but I still have issues.

Do not argue with your critiquers. I've fucked this one up too.

Critiques aren't always right and sometime you have to divine what they are really getting at.

On giving a critique:

When you give a review try to balance the review out. You give 3 bad things, you give 3 good things list them out. Do a summary for your review. YOU MUST find something good to say about it.

Try to read the entire piece before you comment.

Honor the wishes of the author. If they don't think something is working, try to figure out why.

Do your best to separate "Not for you" versus objectively written bad.

Be SPECIFIC. That's more important than the length of your review. He drove this into me.

He argued, the more you critique other people, the better writer you become. And the more you consume, in general, the better writer you become. The more you recieve critiques, the better you become. It's a two-way process, not a one-way process.

His arguments are pretty much why I dislike the whole idea that people don't "have time to give critiques" and thus don't want to give one back. No. If you do 10,000 critiques and get better at them and get 10,000 in return and learn to apply them well, you get better as a writer. Focus on your craft and the writer you want to become.

And now you can see why even though we did not write the same genre, I did not know his writing work, I did not have a matching writing process, that I treasured his lessons. He also had this thing where he was super, super cool with however people wrote. He never, ever disciplined how one should or should not write. He simply said, produce the writing–that's the most important part. And then get it critiqued. We did do occasional writing lessons, but he never ranked that as important.

Now for his arguments on why he thought these things.

So, as a younger writer I struggled and still struggle quite a bit with the first rule. The shut up and listen to someone tear your baby apart.

How to Receive Critiques

First Rule: Stay silent when others critique you and NEVER argue with your critiquer.

His argument went this way: You, the writer are never going to win against a critic. Your entire existence is going to be criticism. You have choices. You suck it up, and accept it is part of the writing thus owning it. You incorporate the suggestion. Or you do better next time.

He had an anecdote, which he liked to tell about this writer who fought against a critic and screamed and shouted and the writer lost.

The result of you fighting against a critic, according to Tom, is that you gain a bad reputation. ALWAYS. Never fight your reviewers.

As Holly Lisle said, go scream into a pillow somewhere, but shut the fuck up and get off the internet. Don't post it onto boards. Tell a friend privately, but don't post it in public. Give yourself a set amount of time to get back to it.

He liked to say stop throwing stones at glass houses. It's not going to work.

No lie, his cool attitude over this still has me screaming at times, HOW DID YOU DO IT? I still try to override the impulse. It's so hard.

Second rule: Every time someone bothers to critique you it's a blessing.

They spent time, and effort consuming your product. As he liked to say THEY ARE A PAYING CUSTOMER. Treat your customers correctly.

And if they are not paying, they were paying their time with you. They cared enough about your work and you to give you a critique.

You have to suck it up and do better.

BTW, if you watch the Youtube Channel, Wait in the Wings, this argument comes up over and over again. When you fight the critics, you lose the majority of the time. When you honor they came to the show and did understand it,

They really cared about you and your art to do this, no matter how cutting it is. Learn to breathe, move on and figure out what to do next.

Third Rule: The only time you open your mouth AFTER the person is done, is on two cases:

The first is to say thank you. The second is to fact check something obvious.

There is no green in the American flag, for example.

DO NOT ARGUE WITH YOUR REVIEWER and don't use this opportunity to try to feel superior to them. WTF man, go back to shutting up. TT

I still struggle with this. I'm swallowing my own feelings as I'm saying thank you. And I'm fighting the voices. And Tom acted like it was easy.

Fourth Rule: Stop explaining your work before you show it.

No lie, my other professors who have given critique sessions also said this. My typography teacher said this, which I keep repeating to myself, "Stop explaining your work. Say that you did the best that you could for the time you were given."

But Tom's logic went like this: Every time someone picks up your work, are you going to be beside them to explain what you MEANT by this or that. Will you be in their ear to talk about your intentions? Let them read the work themselves.

No, it's on you the writer to communicate it better.

Most of the time it's on you, the writer to do it better. (go back to rule number 1 on why).

Fifth Rule: No really, don't argue with your critiquers

It will only end in a bad reputation. Learn how to let it go. Move on. Either take the advice or leave it. See if it works, but at least try it. But arguing with your critiquers will result in nothing good.

How to Give Critiques

First rule: When you give a review, try to balance the review out.

If you give 3 bad things, give three good things, but remember that the person has feelings, so put the good things first. The best critique is good things, bad things, summary. We'll get into how to sort a critique later.

Tom liked to say, remember there is a human being behind that work. And that you won't get that mercy in real life once your work is "out there."

Second rule: Try to read the entire piece first before you comment and then make your comments.

This is your basic reasoning of trying to figure out what the writer is trying to achieve instead of hyper focusing on what they did wrong.

Third rule: Honor the wishes of the author

Spoken and unspoken. If they think something is not working, try to figure out why and some solutions one can do to fix it. Don't just say this thing is wrong. Figure out why. This process will make you also a better writer.

Try to make the piece in front of you better for the author, not how you would write it. He repeated this a lot so you got it. It's not about you and OMG, I would insert dragon here because I could do it better. No, face the piece in front of you and find ways to help the author where they are. You may ultimately disagree and they might not take your advice, but make sure it's about the author, not you.

Rule 4: Do your best to sort "Not for you, versus objectively written bad."

He didn't write romance, fantasy, or Science Fiction. It didn't matter to him or this process. Because there are some commonalities and if you read widely enough, you will know what is good or bad. Don't discriminate like that. If you're struggling with this go to the previous rule about honoring the wishes of the author.

Rule 5: Be specific as possible on why you like or dislike the item in front of you. This helps to sort it out later.

If you say, character is lame. That's not helpful. If you say I dislike the character is diving off the cliff without motivation and I don't know why and the physics don't make sense, that's a lot more helpful to the writer.

He would say too, that the more you're specific and drill down to why, the better you become as a writer. This is why DOING critiques is as important as receiving them. Do the best you can as a critiquer and be specific as possible. It will develop your writer brain and editor brain better.

And I should insert around here:

Revenge critiques are counter productive to you becoming a better writer.

He didn't say this. But I think he would agree given the previous treaties, especially on the idea that the writer is always going to lose.

OMG, you said info dump in MY STORY was bad. So I'm going to find every instance that you info dumped and point it out to you.

Your hurt feelings shouldn't be entering into critiques. Go outside, do something else, come back. You aren't in a place of learning. And sometimes what works for one story will not work for another. Sometimes people do it on purpose and go back to the previous rule about the intentions of the author.

The writer who never honestly critiques and revenge critiques and doesn't listen to critiques, never improves and gets better.

How to Sort Your Critiques

Sort them into these tiers/categories:

Grammar

If you're crying over grammar mistakes, get over it. Just take it and agree or disagree. Do better next time.

Facts

The Earth isn't perfectly round, but it's not shaped like a pear either. The Wizard of Oz wasn't originally propaganda. Greensleeves aren't written for Anne Boleyn. These usually hurt less, but often can dissolve entire stories. This is why you should research. Make sure every single quote is true and truly attributed. This is because facts in your story you don't want that to pull out the reader at any point and you don't know who might be reading it.

Core story issues.

This or that character doesn't work. The intention and impact aren't the same. These are the ones that hurt the most. These are the ones in critiques one should be careful of the most. And the ones that are going to hurt you the most.

The problem is often sort story issues are also the hardest to divine and the hardest to fix.

Critiquer might have had a different emotion from your intention, so remember what I said about being able to reach into other people's writing and figure out their intentions and then work with that? Yeah, this is where it comes in handy to make your own writing better. Sometimes they point to a thing, but it's not that thing.

Say comments are,

this character is boring.

This character doesn't do much.

I think this character is lazy.

But you've written the character on a hot summer day where they are baking out of their mind.

How do you punch it up to make it better? Your KEY ideas on why they aren't moving are "Hot summer day." So punch that part up and give more specific details so people get it. So people get that it's so hot people can't move.

And when the person said the character is lazy, the commentary feels more like deprication rather than true laziness.

That's how you divine the comments. It's not well, this character needs to change the entire scene so it has more action. It's how do I do this scene better so it communicates more.

BTW, Botchan by Natsume Soseki is a masterclass in how to get your character into total inertia such that you actively hate them, but at the same time you understand them.

Tom would say something like, once you get the critiques what you do with them is up to you. Ignore them, take them, but realize that what you don't take is likely to show up as a critique later.

Seeee... both critiquing and receiving critiques makes you a better writer. I'd also argue, it makes you a better person, too.

Short anecdote.

I was on a board and this writer was complaining about this review she had which said that the clothing she had was "inaccurate" and she argued that it was an other world fantasy setting so she could do whatever she liked. And she wanted to know if she should reply and get revenge on the critiquer. A few people were comforting her and egging her on.

I pushed against it gently by asking for the specific critique lines pretty much repeating Tom's advice on how to take a critique. The critique isn't always right, you have to divine, etc.

She stated she loosely based the costumes on a particular century of clothing. So I looked it up for her. I pointed out that stays during that century had changed a lot over time and the underwear changed the outer clothing. So it was possible the person was objecting to the underwear and the outer clothing not matching. I named the pieces of underwear that had changed during that time period and pointed out there is a huge difference for us for 1990's clothes versus the next decade. And that previous eras were no different.

What she needed was someone to cold sort the comment, point out she needed to do research and point out that sometimes physics can't be explained away by an other world.

Don't argue with your critiquers. Also, stop encouraging people to do this???

She ended up deleting her entire post. If you can't take critiques. Get someone to cold sort your critiques for you.

Haha. I have an awesome self-nominated writer's assistant who refuses to be paid, even though I tried to pay her. She knows me sooo well, when she gives a critique and I'm in writer meltdown mode saying, but I could do this or do that. She says in a flat voice, "No, you're going to do this and this is why." I hide this from the public, but damn. You need people like this in your life too.

'cause as much as I'm going off on Tom's rules, I also occasionally fail them. I'm still trying to be as calm cool and collected as he appeared to be about this sort of thing.

How to Know you're getting review bombed.

The account is brand new

All of the review ratings are at extremes. No 3 star reviews.

All of the reviews are targeted.

None of them are specific about the book.

The hazards of making the writer the primary marketer such that they have to do the job of 3 people: Writer, Publicist, and Marketer. Separate your modes. Compartmentalization. Learn it. It can be healthy.

But really, go back up and read. The writer is always going to lose. The more you care about it, the more likely you're going to be review bombed. Fighting reviewers never does you any good.

Bonus Round

The person that you're worried is better than you is probably thinking the same thing about you.

In another words, it's not a battle against others.

In my Young Writer's Group, I deeply admired this guy's writing for his ideas, how he was able to cobble things together with this sort of balance. And I had this kind of feeling like I could never do what he did. I mean he had this kind of deeper detail I felt I was missing. Plus his ideas—fucking clever.

All the time he'd come up with the "obvious" idea that I wanted to be able to write. It's the kind of stuff that you go, OMG, of course.

Flat out envy on my side. And then one day, I heard him talking about how was I able to come up with so many ideas so quickly to other people in the group and that he deeply admired my ideas.

I was shocked. I thought it was one way the entire time. Of course, honor code, not typing up his name, and not typing up his ideas, but the spirit of it is this: You're in a battle against yourself. Your critiquers when you're honestly facing them, and not say, trying to get enough points to post your work, are truly helping you, but you critiquing them is also helping you.

There's still a few of his ideas I keep waiting for him to publish, so I can do spins on them. I still hope he's writing, because writing is a community effort.

Stop being intimidated by other writer's brilliance and find your own. You'll get there too. But damn, I still want to see at least two of his ideas make it onto screen/in a book. I keep looking for him. A few of my former critique partners got published. Dave, hello. And another one that too recognizable by first and last name.

If you can't take reviews, don't read them.

This comes from repeating Writing Excuses episodes–people have writer's assistants do it for them.

I had mine (self-nominated one) look up rare cat breeds... but yeah, some people have them do normal things.

Sometimes writers ask agents to filter them for them.

All you writers, stop stalking Goodreads and writing reviews about your stories/books. I know, but it's not going to do much anyway and the more you care, the more likely you're going to get review bombed or pull a Cait Corrain.

Remember, One Star reviews can be good actually

One star reviews tell you how to improve your product. The maker of Instapot in an interview said he oly reads one star reviews.

Also, sometimes one star reviews have told me that I absolutely want to buy the product in question.

If there are 10 reviews of 1 star by white reviewers saying that white writer wrote it better and it's about say, Chinese history. That says to me, I want to buy your book. I want to understand why they think it's substandard. I want to see what you did to break away from the common popular narrative.

If there are a ton of negative reviews on a product that says this item is too small but I have dinky hands and I want the product to be smaller, that's also useful to know.

One star reviews are not the end to the world. People don't go by purely star ratings. They also look at what the reviews say and how they say it and which people think that review is accurate.

One star review that says they don't know how a story about Jane Austen in Outer Space turned into a sex comedy with a tentacle squid monster? Please, please give me that book.

Stop hyper fixating on star ratings. People often will judge for themselves if it's for them or not. And you pushing back, force deleting the reviews giving that sort of guidance isn't going to help you. As Tom said, you're going to lose, so lose right.