#with august and henry. and all the other characters will be entirely new

[fingertipsmp3]

Someone on a NaNoWriMo prep thread: if you’re trying to win NaNo for the first time my advice is to pick the simplest idea

Me: yep, that seems smart. I’ll do that

Also me: *walks away from my first brainstorming session needing to research the golden age of piracy, the composition of the UK in the mid 17th century, the British navy in the mid 17th century, and the overall concept of a time loop*

[eccentricallygothic]

|| Liability ||

Summary: When you nearly compromise The Organization on a job because of your impulsiveness, your boss August Walker decides it's time for a demotion; since you clearly still have much training ahead of you.

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own August Walker or any of the other Henry Cavill characters mentioned. This is a mature and morally gray story so browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact.

Pairing: Mafia Boss!August Walker | Hench(wo)man!You.

Warning(s): D/s dynamics, m!dom, f!sub, the relationship is probably morally gray, slapping, throat fucking, power imbalance, pet names, hair pulling, deep throating, gun play, smut with plot (I am sorry I just couldn't stop), humiliation, degradation, camera play.

Note: Oh, my God! It's finally here, first Auggie fic go boom~ 

MASTERLIST

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"You're out, do not call again." You sighed into the phone and momentarily shut your eyes in frustration as you kept an eye out through the window of the dingy motel that you crouched next to, trying to stay one with the darkness of the room. 

"Boss…" It had taken you risking your life to buy a new sim card just to get him to pick up your call. "Come on, the whole thing would have gone south–"

"You have been told more times than can be counted to not take matters into your own hands" your form stiffened when you noticed a man from a rival gang casually stroll by the motel as he pretended to be a passerby. Fuck. As your eyes scanned the area you realized that you were slowly getting surrounded. "If anything goes against the plans it is protocol for the team to regroup and–"

"Boss… The Angels…" Had it not been August on the line, you would have masked the panic in your voice with not much effort or hesitation. "T- They're here…" There was a brief silence.

And then;

"That's your problem now, Y/n" your throat tightened when he did not use your gang alias. "I told you" there was shuffling on his side. Sweat broke out on your skin. That meant he was done with the conversation. "You're out." 

The line went dead.

Your tongue felt swollen as you glanced at the briefcase you had put everything on the line for. 

Just to lose anyways. 

Yes, alright. Maybe you had ignored Marshall's order to abort the mission and fought off Shaw because Kent had been incompetent enough to mess up hacking the target car's engine in time. And yes, maybe you had risked exposure by following the vehicle. But the fact of the matter was, no one had died and the asset was recovered all the same. The mask that you wore on missions had ensured the protection of your identity and though anyone from your line of work could tell it was Walker's notorious Wraith, no identifiable features meant no evidence.

But no. 

How could things ever end that easily? 

Solo being the asshole that he was just had to rat about the entire ordeal to Walker. 

Okay sure, maybe you had to shake off cops because one of the men inside the car had noticed you following them. And maybe you had had to wait for the streets to cool off for the rest of the day but that did not mean you had betrayed them by running away with the asset or something! 

Even if you had gotten caught -which you never did; hence your alias-, your boss should have known that you would sooner die tortured in a shithole slammer cell than rat.

You bit your tongue as you tossed the phone on the table after breaking the sim card, watching the inevitable unfold before you with vigilant eyes that stung from the moisture accumulating behind them as you readied what little weapons that you had on hand. 

The growing tightness in your throat was tugging at the back of your oral muscle and your jaw was aching from the strength it took you not to cave into emotion. But you held your nose high and snorted at the rivals– enemies before rolling your moist eyes at them. You could not help but critique them even then because if they were trying to blend in, they were frankly doing a shit job. 

"Of course" you snickered as you got up and went to stash the briefcase in the best spot you could find. 

The Diablos had teamed up with The Angels and the irony of that was not lost on you. 

So it took the State's top two gangs -that were arch rivals under usual circumstances- to bring The Wraith down, huh?

Being young and impulsive as you were, you had pissed all the wrong people off under August's wing.  You had earned it through your knack for casual brutality which was so devastating and sickening in nature that it seemed something innate for you. 

But now that the affiliation was gone, it seemed everyone wanted a piece of the once mighty Wraith. 

You burst into a cold chuckle again. 

All these men just to try to take down one girl, huh?

Crouching behind the bed with your gun aimed at the door after you had successfully hidden the cause of your demise in the most secure spot you could find -not wanting your foes to succeed even now-, you sucked in an icy breath and braced yourself for what was coming. "Here goes" you whispered to yourself as you pushed your airpods in your ears and blasted your music through them probably one last time. 

For if these were the last minutes of your life, you wanted to go out guns blazing with your favorite tunes blocking the ugly out.

That, and the emotions that were trying to dominate your mind and crawl down your eyes in your body's attempt to deal with the overwhelming sentiments surging through your body like electricity. 

No. 

August Walker's Wraith didn't do emotions– 

Wait. 

Fuck. 

You bit your tongue as you cussed at yourself. You did not belong to anyone. 

Especially not an asshole who had the audacity to doubt your intentions even after you had submitted to him everything you had had to offer. 

Service, body, mind, soul… heart. 

Your true drive behind striving to always get the job done was only to please him. It had been for a long time at this point. And so yes, you sometimes resorted to undesirable, disobedient means to achieve the goal but it was all only to make him happy. 

Richer. 

Contrary to the popular belief which had been spread around The Organization by Solo, you did not do it to move up the hierarchy. At least, not anymore. Sure, ambition had been your initial motivation before everything but nothing in the world mattered except for Master anymore. 

… The same Master that had abandoned you when you needed him most.

A humorless snicker escaped you at the thought and you couldn't help but shake your head. At the end, you were just like all those foolish girls that had come before you in different shapes and forms, belonging to different times and contexts; discarded cold and teary eyed at a crossroads for anyone willing in the end.

You had gotten lost in your thoughts, eyes focused on the door but peripherals ignorant to your surroundings; the flashes bouncing off the windows and the smoke of dust and gas permeating the air outside. 

You lost track of the minutes and songs that passed in mere fleeting moments to you as you forced yourself to recall basically everything despite the agony that you felt. You deserved the torture. A reflection on your entire life and how futile it had turned out to be in the end was important. It was only fair.

A man had been your undoing, this sentence wasn't enough. But it was all you knew in the moment. 

You were so completely focused on denying yourself any tears that you failed to take notice of a member of The Angels slamming into the glass of one of the windows as he was obliterated with some 7mm bullets.

It was only when the door shook by getting kicked that your heart and body jumped alike; pulling you back to the present, your heart strings tugging. Your hand tightened around your weapon. This is it. Clenching your jaw tight, you stabilized your breathing and waited for the enemy to kick the door in. The thought of just how pathetically you were cornered made you snicker as you shook your head.

Only, when the door swung free and you went to press the trigger did your chuckle die in your throat. 

Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Your heart weighed down in your chest until it was too much for your chest to hold and it let the organ fall into your stomach. 

Your breaths tightened.

The strength from your lungs drained.

Your fingers yanked the melodies away from your ears faster than you could register. 

Almost as though your body was suddenly on autopilot.

"B- Boss…?" 

The silhouette of a seething August blocked the doorway, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each pant of his breaths as his lungs churned. When his fingers roughly clawed at the switchboard to turn the lights on, his dark, glossy eyes came into your view before the rest of him did. 

The man was covered in blood as his pistol that held a metallic hue glinted in one of his hands. If you didn't know any better you would have said it seemed as though brief relief washed over his otherwise furious face when his bulging eyes finally located you in the room. Though his face instantly hardened of any emotion the moment it happened. His jaw clenched tighter as his eyebrows drew apart from each other, the cold blue of his eyes that were livid with chaos somewhat calming down while you gaped at him in shock.

The Boss never came down to the field himself. 

You had heard it had been a long time since he had last done it.

… All you had asked was for some backup.

What were you to make of this?

How–

"Kneel" oh.

But Master could. 

And he had. 

A ghost of a smile played on your lips as you rose and walked over to the middle of the room quicker than you could think, eyes wide and glassy. Your weapon slipped through your fingers the same time as when you collapsed on your knees in front of him; awaiting his next command with all the self-respect and ego you had conjured up in the last few minutes long forgotten. 

Nothing else mattered anymore. 

For Master was here.

There was no need for you to think anymore.

All that needed to be done now was to sit back and obey without question. 

August calmly walked over to you and stopped when he was towering over you, letting out an intentionally exaggerated sigh as he propped the tip of his weapon under your chin. "Liability" he had called you that the day Gus -your mentor and guardian figure in the whole organization- had finally presented you to him; The Boss, after months of trials. 

Your bottom lip wobbled with all that was cycloning through your head but you dared not speak. 

He had a way of making you feel so small and vulnerable it melted away your resolve every time.  

"Impulsive" the back of August's free hand that was covered in splatters of blood struck across your face and your head lolled to the side. "Stubborn" now your other cheek was caught in his fingers and you let your face swing free in the direction of the slap. Master was the only man who could treat you that way and you were nothing to deny him of his wishes. 

The barrel of his gun brought your chin back to the center again. "Headstrong" as another strike caused your face to sway in the same humiliating way, the knowledge that were he some other man you would have torn your revenge for treating you like this out of him sent tremors down your abdomen. 

You could but you wouldn't. 

Because it was August; the sole proprietor of your entire existence. 

The tip of his Sig Sauer brought you back in idle position again. "Non-compliant" as you received another harsh strike, you bit back your rising ire for though you submitted to him wholeheartedly, getting pushed around had never been your forte. 

But Master can do whatever he wants, you're his for treating however he desires. 

He was worthy of being worshiped.

Maybe he was the only man who deserved such service. 

And perhaps that was the reason why your hips clenched as hard as they did each time he treated you like you were nothing but part of the dirt under his shoe.

Like right now.

August centered you again and your insides threatened to boil over when you noticed that the broken door was open wide as it swayed with the gentle breeze of the night, the gap helping the guys to a perfect view of the inside of the room. 

You. 

And Master.

Whilst Syverson and Phillips had the decency -the latter probably only because you were a daughter figure to him- to look away, Solo, Shaw and Kent watched on shamelessly as they stood clutching their rifles, ready to shoot down any potential threat. 

"Disobedient" as your head lolled aside again, you felt your cheek sting just a bit harder than the other one due to the way your teeth dug in it, the gazes from outside only making it all the more worse. 

Your eyes traveled back to Master's darker, much stern ones. Fuck. You felt hot slick pool in your underwear. "Amateur" a whimper escaped you as the realization that the others could see you so vulnerable and submissive pricked the skin of your ears. "Overconfident" besides, this very personal dynamic you shared with your boss was private and none of your colleagues knew about it. So either August was ignorant of the door or he was so serious about whatever he was about to do to you, he didn't care. 

Although, since the man had an extremely vigilant nature, you doubted the former was the case. 

Which only left you with the latter conclusion… 

This time around, your face was recentered -you were never to do that yourself unless ordered to do so- not with the Sauer but with a harsh grip on your hair. "Seems to me you were not trained well enough to know your place, little girl" he had bent down to put his face in close proximity to yours, pulling you up by the grip he had on your head to meet him halfway.

Your lips fell agape as your knees burned, shaking just a little as you tried to triumph the induced Parkinson's. It was not easy to make the Wraith tremble. But championing impossibilities had always been August Walker's specialty. "Y- Yes, Master…" Cold, shaky breaths left you as you trembled under his glare. Your loins ignited to life and you couldn't help but subconsciously rock your hips against empty air. "P- Please t- teach me, Master…" You risked speaking out of turn, determined to win him back no matter what for you no longer remembered how it was like to function without him.

Without the sense of sanity and balance his commands created for you. 

And you were not willing to relearn it.

Ever. 

"Hm" August mused with obvious sarcasm. "Or," he let go of your hair and stood back up to his full height, raising the gun before pressing the cold, bloody tip to your forehead, "I could save us all a whole lot of time and just put you out of everyone's misery." His thumb moved to click the safety off, the sound flipping your stomach in the most vile of ways, none of which were concern for your wellbeing. 

"Whatever you deem fit, Master" keeping your eyes trained on him, you went on a limb and slowly moved to crane your head backwards and let the barrel crown trail between your eyebrows and down your nose. "Thank you, Master" the silent yet bright rage in his cold blue orbs caused for a shiver to run down your spine. 

Suddenly, the certainty that you were now sure to survive the night that had kindled after his arrival was extinguished just like that.

And yet, you parted your lips when the beginning of the barrel reached your mouth, sheathing it in your oral cavity and between your cheeks, the length causing them to hollow as you looked up at him. The metallic taste of the blood spatters that the Sauer was covered in caused your taste buds to sting as it further invaded your balmy cavern and the apex scratched against your throat. You tried not to cough, breathing through the nose as your hips helplessly rocked again with a mind of their own, the discomfort in the back of your mouth bringing tears to your eyes.

You were too far gone for this man. 

And there was no rationalizing or denying it.

"Now that's more like the pet I raised" your pussy clenched and you whined softly, wanting nothing more for the still seething man to take you against every surface available in the most depraved of ways. Each one that you were familiar with. "Remembering your place already, aren't you?" His now eased up breathing slowly started to clamber again as he reached for his fly with his free hand, pistoning the weapon in and out of your mouth to demonstrate how his cock was about to defile your mouth. Though you were to never move a single muscle out of turn, you could not help but bob your head along the Sauer in a horizontal fashion while your holes clenched again. 

You had come too close today. 

It could never happen again… if your boss would even allow there to be another time, that was. 

But for now, there were amends that needed making.

"Now then, what do we say?" August nearly slithered as he pulled the Sauer out of your mouth but didn't holster it, instead letting it dangle by one hand whilst the other tangled in your hair to pull you closer to his cock. 

"Want you in me, Master…" You resisted the urge to just open your mouth and move up on it.

You had angered him enough for a while. 

"Want me?" You cowered at his faux amusement that came out as a growl due to how enraged he was. 

"N- No…"

"No?" You gulped to yourself before trying again.  

"No–" you shook your head in panic, raking your mind to come up with an appropriate response. "I- I mean… N- Need you, Master…" Yes, that was certainly better. "Please…" Your bottom lip quivered as your words wavered with a pleading wanton in them. "N- Need you."

"And where do you need me?" The lack of contempt in his manner indicated that you were on the right track. Or at least somewhere near it.

"M- Mouth, M- Master…" Your nails dug into your thighs as you tried your best to hold back from touching him.

Disobedient girls didn't deserve to touch their Masters.

"And why do you need me in your mouth?" He let go of your hair to pump his monstrous girth a couple times as he stroked your cheek with the barrel of the Sauer. 

"T- To fuck my face, Master." You answered honestly, completely ignorant of how shocked Kent was at what was unfolding. 

Usually you were much more vigilant than this single minded mess you had become, but this was just the effect August had on you. 

"Is that right?" A twisted smirk made its way on his face. "And why do you need me to do such a humiliating thing to you, little girl?" You hadn't realized that your heart was thumping until its erratic beating began to put strain on your chest. 

"To be reminded of my place, Master." That seemed to finally create at least a semblance of satisfaction and your Master allowed you the tip of his cock at last. 

"And where is your place?" He waited patiently even though his body was clearly having a hard time holding back now that your warm lips circled his leaking tip. 

"Under you" you spoke through a mouthful of dick. "On my knees" you tried to kiss it to show your devotion but the puckering of your lips caused a loud suckling sound. His features twitched. "At your service, always" something else, a hungry dark, now mixed in with the bright lividness of his cold blue eyes and he grunted before pulling you closer by your hair, trailing the gun all the way down to your chest now. 

"That's right" he let go of your hair to slap your cheek before resuming his hold on the strands, grunting at the way his cock felt the vibration of his own palm from when he had struck you. "And you better remember that the next time you want to break protocol" your eyes widened in realization and hope flashed in your eyes. 

A chance. 

You tried to respond but his cock was too far into your mouth for you to be able to let out a coherent answer. Ao you chose to hum and unintentionally sent waves of pleasure all the way down to his balls. Well, all's well that ends well, right? You began to bob your head up and down with a newfound optimism, peeking up at his humongous form with pure adoration in your eyes. 

August cursed under his breath at the sight of you so submissive and comfortable in your humility. The sheer love and devotion in your eyes as your warm cavity clung to his cock, the mass of your lashes fluttering each time your face slid all the way down his length and the way his tip brushed your gag reflex with each movement, the stubble on his crotch tickling your nose as you did, it was all too much for him to handle with civility. 

"Use your hands" so he finally allowed you what you had been craving for. You felt your pussy throb when his thick veins twitched against your grainy tongue. "Go ahead, show me what you are good for" his voice was gravelly as the Sauer slipped into the neckline of your shirt and he let you feel the cold metal against your skin. 

You gladly complied, moaning at the feeling of the weapon against you, hoisting yourself further upwards on your heels as you reached for his balls with one hand and palmed them generously. Your head rotated each time you moved in on his cock, other hand working fast to pump him each time you pulled back until you were only sucking on his tip. 

"Look at you" August hooked one foot against your knee and pushed it apart to create more distance between your legs. "Maybe you should retire as solely my toy for the rest of your days, huh?" Leaving the weapon hanging from your shirt and tucked tightly in your bra, the older man clicked the safety on before clasping his fist around your throat. "You're much better at it than the job, anyway" the corners of your shoulders jutted upwards when his cock finally breached your swallow tract and tears fell from your eyes at last in thick drops at last.

Glancing up at August with your bloodshot eyes, you darted your tongue out to trace as much the circumference of his ballsack as you possibly could. He cursed heavily. "Just like that… good girl" the back of your throat was warm and even more inviting, enveloping him in such a way that an imprint of his cock appeared on your delicate skin, the ridges grazing against August's palm that pressed against it. 

Your head was now dizzy due to the lack of air but you did not care as you unplugged your mouth just enough to wheeze in as much air as you possibly could, releasing a fat wad of hot spit down the intimidating length of his cock that you pumped messily with your hand. There was a dull ache in your scalp because of the taut grip that he had on your hair. Your lungs burned. Your ears were on the verge of melting along your brain. Your jaw ticked due to his size. Your throat stretched each time he violated its inner cavity. Your pussy throbbed for attention and your abdomen pulsated painfully.

But none of it mattered. 

So long as you got to satisfy your Master, everything was bearable.  

"Fucking hell" August groused as he stilled your head in one place to reach as low as he could possibly go down the back of your oral cavity, pistoning short-paced thrusts up and down the space to fuck his orgasm out. Your trembling hands gripped his knees as you felt a strain in your jaw due to how his sack was widening it, obediently licking and sucking at his balls to the best of your ability. 

Somewhere amidst the thrusting and swallowing, your windpipe catched a drop and you coughed, further intensifying the man's pleasure as the turbulence caused a mix of your spit and his cum to spray out of your nose before it trailed down to your lips. 

August fished his phone out of his jacket and quickly snapped a shot of your state. 

Hair disheveled, mouth full of cock, red eyes full of tears that stained your flush cheeks, thick strings of drool and his seed dripping down your chin. 

"Make yourself look pretty for me" he nodded at you with a brief glance to his cock and where it connected with you. 

The camera was still trained at you when you obediently pulled him out with a gag and cough while pumping the rest of his cum out and onto your face. The flash of the lenses nearly blinded you as you looked up in the video that he was recording now, your tongue and swollen lips glistening as you painted yourself pearlescent. 

"Now, what do we say?" August panted once you were done. 

"Thank you so much f- for giving me a chance a- and fucking my face, Master" your voice was hoarse and a near whisper as you forced it out through your worked out mouth, licking your lips to collect as much of him as possible. 

"That's fucking right" he ended the video by squeezing your cheeks in his grip until your cum covered features scrunched in the most humiliating way before he landed a last slap to your cheek. 

August fixed himself up professionally like he didn't just fuck your throat into oblivion and you submissively waited on your knees, awaiting his next command. After he was satisfied with his appearance, the man wiped his hands on your jacket before he took his gun out from between your boobs and holstered it. 

"Up" raising one of his hands above his head, he snapped his fingers and allowed you the privilege of leaning on one of his arms as you scrambled up to your feet. 

A very stunned Shaw was by his side within the next second, his ears a deep, almost embarrassed red. "Retrieve the asset" the younger male awkwardly looked at your obscene state as you wordlessly nodded in the direction of the briefcase stash. "Now," August's fingers snaked around your hair again as he glanced down at you, "let's get my estranged Wraith home" your head lolled in his direction as he began to walk towards one of the many sleek black SUVs parked outside. 

"You have been demoted" he informed you once you had both settled in the backseat of one of the vehicles. August thrusted his phone in your hand. It displayed the picture that he had taken just a few minutes ago. "We will begin right from the start; the basement" your heart dropped. Oh, fuck. You had only been down there once and it was not a place where August was pleasant in any sense. And your sadistic lover was never much agreeable in the affectionate sense anyways. You definitely still had a lot to atone for. "Keep looking at this picture. I don't want your eyes off it for a second" the menace in his tone made you gulp as the humiliating picture burnt its way into your eyesockets.

A few seconds passed before you felt August's hands slip around your ass but you dared not look up to express your wonder. "Now… about that weeping little pussy of yours…" Honestly, it was hard not to notice. The stain you had made for yourself was too dark and wide for anyone to miss.  

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Thots and reblogs are much appreciated <3

Tags <3: @kittymiaow @enchantedbytomandhenry @thearcana-moonlight @lainiespicewrites @diannana @juliaorpll78 @slut-for-henry-cavill @chocolatecherryblossomsweets @sonnenbroesel @lovenewfandoms @secretdream2

[amailboxlemur]

Three years ago today I watched Young Royals for the first time.

Story time/long post incoming. I wasn’t in a great headspace at the time, but let me try to set the scene.

Spring of 2021 was still pretty deep in the pandemic. My province had been on lockdown (number 3) since the beginning of April and I hated working from home. Partly because teaching online piano lessons sucks. But also I live alone, and lockdown is too much alone time no matter how introverted you are. I think that spring I went about 6 weeks without speaking to someone in person who wasn’t like a grocery store cashier.

I decided to go stay with my parents for a few weeks so I could get some human interaction. At the time, I was mooching off my former roommate’s Netflix that was still signed in to our living room TV, so I didn’t have Netflix access.

I also love Red White and Royal Blue, and all of a sudden in early July the fandom got flooded. There were gifs of two unfamiliar teenage boys all over my dash. Fanart of two boys who looked like Alex and Henry captioned “Wilhelm and Simon”. There were a bunch of crossover fics popping up on AO3. I was curious, but mostly I just wanted to get a feel for the characters so I could read said crossover fics.

July 12th was my first day back teaching in person. (Side note: the health precautions we had in place for those lessons were WILD). I came back from my parents place in the morning, taught in the late afternoon/evening and returned home around 8 pm. I made supper and figured I’d try watching an episode of this “Young Royals” thing. I started it and remember groaning when I realized it was in Swedish so I’d have to focus and read subtitles instead of watching mindlessly (I’m too pretentious to watch the dubbed version, but it had been a long day)

“Oh that’s a beautiful boy with a beautiful voice singing… I can keep going…”

“Ohhh they’re about to kiss… wait what? How does episode 1 just end there??? I have to watch another episode!”

“Yay they finally kissed!! But how will Wilhelm react?? It’s not even 11 yet, I think I can watch one more”

“Erik is dead. I knew this was coming because I saw the “beta read but Erik’s still dead” tag on AO3 but totally forgot! How will this affect my boys?? One more episode, just to see if wilhelm pushes Simon away again”

“Ok good, they’re together. August sucks though, I can see where this is going and why there seem to be so many comparisons to rwrb. But it’s past midnight so I’ll have to keep watching tomorrow… wait there’s only two more episodes?? Might as well finish”

Before I knew it, it was 2 am and I was crying on my living room couch. I NEVER get into new shows, I have tons of things I watched 1-3 episodes of and then quit, so I couldn’t believe I binged the entire thing. It was late so I went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up and the rabbit hole began. I read all the fics on AO3, I started following young royals stuff on tumblr. I googled the actor who played Simon and found out he’s an actual Swedish pop star? I think he was among the first artists I followed using my then brand new Spotify account. I followed both Omar and Edvin on instagram, along with Lisa (other actors followed later). I watched all the young royals promo videos on YouTube, including the Hillerska choir performance. That entire summer was spent diving down Omar’s back catalog of Foo vlogs. Some of them are in Swedish, but I remember watching them intensely, as if I would magically understand if I tried hard enough. I started learning Swedish on duolingo.

When season 2 was released, I fully quit all social media for WEEKS to avoid spoilers. I spent 3 days carefully messing up my sleep schedule so I could wake up and watch it at 3 am. When season 3 was released I was such an excited puppy dog that I didn’t sleep at all. I watched it at 3 am and spent the whole rest of the day amped up and on tumblr.

I remember all kinds of fun and significant days in the fandom: Rockbjörnen 2021, musikhjälpan 2021. The lead up and release of Mi Casa Su Casa. The release of OMR. Omar gave me a birthday present in 2022 when he performed “breathe” on Nyhetsmorgon on my birthday. Gay gala 2022 but especially 2023. Both boys have done incredible sommarpratar. So many other galas and performances and photoshoots I’d be here all day listing them all out.

Becoming an Omar fangirl was also surprising. I don’t listen to or follow pop music (my definition of which is incredibly broad so yes, Omar’s music qualifies). Like, I’ve never had a favourite artist before? One who’s work I actively follow and whose releases I know about in advance and look forward to?

Omar announced his concert at Cirkus in November of 2023 and it fell at the end of a semester break from work. I could go without needing to refund or makeup any missed lessons. It felt like a sign. That week was genuinely one of the best in my life, words can’t even describe it. A transatlantic flight, a week in Europe. I got to see Kaggeholm. I met Omar at Lyko. I stood in general admission 3 rows back from the stage and heard Omar sing live and sang along with other fans. It was surreal. Shout out to @yrblogbaby @the-words-we-sung @crownedwille and @omarsimp, wow you’re all amazing. There was a queer joy to hanging out with y’all that weekend that I don’t get too often irl.

Since then, I’ve tried to internalize a little bit more the idea of community in fandom. I’m still not super out there, but I try to interact more. I lurked in this fandom (and so many others) for years. I made this account in something like 2011 and until recently I probably had less than 50 posts.

So yeah… saying this show changed my life feels dramatic but also accurate. Hopefully here’s to more years to come, and more good memories when I head to New York this fall!

[unicornsaures]

Redcoat OC lore dump!!

By no means is this EVERYTHING about these guys, just the base layers. I also dont go into specifics for a lot of these just because if i did it probably wouldnt line up so..yeah!

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Right, starting off with Charles Gray! He was born in Maryland on April 14, 1753 to Eleanor Gray and John Gray with three sisters - Mary Gray(last name changed to Fields when she gets married), Eleanor Gray Jr, and Frances Gray. His family was originally from London but they moved to the colonies in 1750, 3 years before he was born. His parents were devout loyalists, so he and his siblings quickly picked up on their beliefs. He primarily lived on his parents' plantation, so he was pretty well off financially and he had no struggle with money his entire life. Come 1773 when Charles is 19, his sister Frances dies and they were pretty close, he struggles to cope with her desth while being in the area she died so, he decides to move out to Pennsylvania where he instead meets Henry and William who become his closest friends and help him through all of that.

Soon enough, April of 1774 comes around and he meets Charlotte Brewer(new character alert~!), who he begins courting soon after. In august of 1774 they begin dating, and in April of 1776 he gets married!! Yeah, he doesnt get happily ever after though. He joins the british army with William and Henry not but a few months later, leaving his newly wed wife behind and hes extra guilty about it. When they meet Hamilton though, he takes an instant liking towards him and tries to make him feel welcome to distract himself from the guilt he feels. Problem is, he never actually told Ham hes married. So, whoops. The rest of the story is whats already written so ah, Hamilton still doesnt know he's married.

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Okayyy, William Fletcher! William was born in Newcastle on August 12, 1754 to George & Mary Fletcher. He has 6 siblings(im not writing out names.) Though 2 die before William even reaches the age of 1. This hasnt been brought up in the story, but he also can't remember most of his childhood other than the fact his father was shit. It wasnt anything too out of the ordinary for the time period, but it was a borderline abusive dynamic that sparked fights and fucked up his trust, making it really hard to keep stable relationships with anyone in the future. Ever wonder why he 'dislikes' Hamilton so much? Yeah thats why.

Anyway, his family moved to New York in August of 1765, and to Pennsylvania just a few months later. Life is pretty uninteresting for a few years until 1770 comes up(William is 16) and he meets Henry Reed!! Its almost instantaneous how fast they become friends, and in the future William HEAVILY cherishes their friendship because of how rare it was for him to open up to people, moreso with the gender norms in their time period. They bond a lot while theyre in Pennsylvania together and honestly fuck around and get into trouble like normal teenagers until, come 1773, they meet Charles!! He keeps them in check kind of, and they create this little trio. For william, it takes a lot longer to consider him a friend but it does happen, in which he also helps Charles court Charlotte in 1774!!

William is the one who encouraged them all to join the army, and Henry was quick to follow his word. When Hamilton came along in 1777, William really disliked him. He did warm up to him, and they were friends, but then ah..the whole Laurens thing..That trust was INSTANTLY broken and so that leaves us with William as we have it in modern chapters where he comes off as bitchy and rude. Yes, he is bitchy to Hamilton, but thats not his whole character and there is genuine reasons he acts so cold towards Hamilton, and sometimes even Charles. Charles less so because he's known him for longer, but Hamilton is someone he deemed as 'untrustworthy,' and therefore he sets up walls around him.

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Right! Henry Reed! Out of the group, he's the most tragic. He was Born in South Carolina on January 5, 1757 to Oliver & Molly Reed. He was also raised with two siblings though one died during his childhood and the other was almost an adult when he was born, so he has little recollection of them. His family had originally been from Norwich, but they moved to the colonies in 1745. They moved again however when he was 6 to Pennsylvania, where his mother left him and his father when he was 12. His childhood is kind of shitty overall, and most of his recollection is working in a trading company with his father to support them both after his mother had left. Even before she had left she was emotionally absent though his father had done his best to make up for that loss to little avail.

After his mother had left, Henry and his father did their best to keep afloat and it worked pretty well, though Henry felt somewhat responsible for the reason his mother left. He met William when he was 13, and like i said, they became very close very fast during some of the worst years of their life. Henry became quickly attached not only because of their friendship itself, but because he looked up to William in a sense? Like i said william was 16 when they met and often did things himself and was overly confident, Henry stayed on the sidelines and tried to hide as often as possible.

Anyway, when Charles came along Henry almost saw him as a sort of 'big brother,' and also became attached to him though not nearly as quickly or as hard as he did with william. During the whole Charles-Charlotte thing he kind of stayed off to the side and watched it all happen. He didnt like getting involved with ladies and honestly, he thinks charlotte looked too similar to his own mother. I might as well add on that he ws also extremely jealous of Charles for 'taking williams attention,' but thats not too important other than the fact that he has unresolved attachment issues.

The reason he wants to join the army is mostly because life is boring and he wants purpose, but also he wouldnt have done it if william didnt offer to join first. When he meets hamilton he doesnt mind him, theyre buddies kind of. Though a small disdain grows when he realizes william doesnt like him, and again, he looks up to william so he usually listens to his judgement. This dislike only grows during the laurens fiasco, but like charles, he doesnt HATE hamilton.

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I could rant about william and henrys whole dynamic if i really wanted to, but in short theyre two guys with similar traumas who found comfort in talking to each other !!! Their friendship in general isnt the healthiest, they both are overly dependent on one another with william having unresolved trust issues and henry with unresolved attachment issues but for the most part they arent miserable so thats what matters the most ig?

[pennyserenade]

sleeping with the television on

chapter four - fade into you | ao3 link

pairing: javier peña x female oc, javier peña x named female oc (mariella) rating: m (mature) tags/warnings: talk of sex, language, self-depreciation, angst word count: 2.4k summary: in the aftermath of poor decision making, javier and mariella pick up the bits of their lives. a/n: javier peña you're crazy but i love you

Mariella waits for Javier outside the convenience store, tapping her fingers nervously against the steering wheel. The thud thud of the music coming from the car speakers is so loud that it sends low vibrations throughout the entire vehicle, and she welcomes it, relishing the occasional mind-numbing peace that comes when the music reaches a high. 

As she nudges the dial up, she watches Javier through the front panes of the store. There’s no one else in the parking lot and the day is so warm; she figures if anyone were to pull up, they’d take this to be an act of end of summer glee, not temporary insanity. Earlier the radio jockey had introduced the song as Santeria. It’s got that summer sound, gritty the way all songs seem to be these days, but slow enough to dissect, to sit with. If she could think about anything other than what the hell had happened at her house, she might find she likes it. But she can’t. Of course she can’t. But she’s trying. 

She can still feel the warmth of Javier’s fingers on her skin. It had been the only bits of intimacy she’s had since that sultry Washington day with Henry, months ago, and her body clings to it, not wishing to forget as easily as she wills it to. There’s no denying it, but what had happened between her and Javier had been a mistake, something they’re surely going to pretend never happened, and probably won’t be able to move on from. An irrevocable mistake. She is tired of being so familiar with them, of having to be in the constant motion of moving forward and not looking back because of it. Henry bookmarks June, and now Javier will be the highlight of her late August—a new, terrible nightmare to replay endlessly in her mind. 

When she was younger she had imagined this perpetual displeasure and lost feeling would fade, that she would one day come into herself and find home in her body and in her mind. She knew mistakes would always exist, but she figured the ones she’d be making would be minimal: signing the kids up for play-dates at the same time, forgetting a doctor’s appointments, spilling coffee on her dry cleaned, white shirt. The mistakes she makes now are sophomoric, the type that are meant to be turned into life lessons. Don’t fuck married men, even if they are your ex-husband and you might still love him. Don’t kiss a man you hardly know, especially if you suspect he might be as lost and clueless as you are—even more so if he’s only a ten minute drive away from you at all times, and the son of your father’s friend. This is the moral and social curriculum covered in high school, and yet she’s failing it. 

She wants to leave, to drive as far and fast as she can, to a place where she can be anything, all over again. In Washington she is already a rich history, endlessly steep and wholly complex. In the roots she lays, a teenager on the cusp of the rest of her life at eighteen, then a young married woman at twenty-three, and finally the tragic divorcee at twenty-seven. At thirty-four she sits somewhere above the surface, not a teenager and not a wife–not even a native anymore–but a mistress in all ways. Her clandestine affair is preserved in room number 27 at the Motel 6, as well as in the hollow of her unforgiving mind. 

In Laredo, Texas she is a warped retelling, a character not of her own: a welcomed stranger at seventeen, some the befallen daughter with heavy tears at twenty-eight, a dedicated daughter at thirty, someone’s green teacher at thirty-two, and now, incredibly, soon to be the wind’s favorite whisper at thirty-four. If there isn’t already, there will be one more rumor. 

Mariella is the girl who used to be married but isn’t anymore, and she’s nice, the prodigal daughter despite everything. And because she is a good girl, always, everywhere she goes, she never, ever does the things she did with Henry—or the things she’s done with Javier for that matter. But she does, and she wants to find a stretch of earth that will forgive her for it—maybe even one that won’t absorb it the way the previous ones have. 

Henry was meant to be the fix to this—to be the end all, be all, no matter what. She married him for forever, not for the five years they got, two of which were tense and miserable. She has a hard time remembering those at all, save for the ending, and now she's in this pitiful, twisted epilogue where she’s the other woman and still struggling. Mariella finds she has to close her eyes to stop the tears from coming. Anger and frustration well in the pit of her stomach, and it’s all new, all over again. She hates Henry and this, and herself for letting her reserve go when she’d do so well at keeping it in check her entire life. 

There’s a sudden knock on the passenger side window. Mariella startles and then reflexively turns down the radio. Javier smiles at her, a reserved, embarrassed grin, like he knows he’s interrupted something. She reaches over and rolls down the window on his side, trying her best to collect herself. Her smile is timid, embarrassed, too, because he has caught her in the middle of something.  

“Okay..?” he asks. For a moment she thinks he’s asking about her, but then she sees the cigarette in his hand and realizes he’s asking her if it’s okay to smoke. She nods, almost adds “be my guest,” but finds her voice caught in her belly, along with everything else. 

Javier moves to the edge of the empty parking lot and lights his cigarette. Mariella rolls the window back up, but unlocks his side of the car and eyes him through the rearview mirror. With his back turned to her, it’s easier to watch. His shoulders rise when he inhales the first drag of the cigarette and fall back when he exhales a few moments later. She can see the muscles in his back even beneath the fabric of his shirt. 

He is classically handsome, lean and broad-shoulder, pouty-lipped, mustached, topped off with intense brown eyes. His warm summer tan is accentuated by the blue in his shirt and though she can’t see him, she knows he’s got the top two buttons undone to reveal a bit of his bare chest. From recent experience she knows he smells good, too—enticingly masculine, with strong hands and warm tongue. 

When the radio jockey comes back on, urging listeners to phone in about their relationship issues, Mariella turns the station with a soft grunt, pulling her eyes away from Javier. What she knows, from her recent habit of listening to late night radio at the movie store, is that she does not like those segments. They’re painfully earnest. The idea of baring it all for a perfect stranger, in front of thousands of other strangers, embarrasses her. Maybe if she didn’t make such a perfect candidate, she might like them more. Be it as it is, she relishes the sound of the Macarena instead. Javier comes back mid-song. He slides into the car without a word. His clean scent has been swiftly replaced by the pungent smell of Marlboro Reds. She’d probably hate that more if she didn’t envy him the vice. 

Cigarettes are the acrid smell of soft rebellion, and of nostalgia. It reminds her of her grandfather’s yellowed finger tips, and that time Henry had taught her to hold a cigarette. Neither of them smoked, not really, but he’d learned just ‘cause in high school. They sometimes sat in that apartment she’d told Javier about, passing a lone cigarette between them. They’d take turns blowing the smoke out the window above the toilet, stripped to their underwear, laughing covertly, like lovers. Like friends. 

“Ready?” she asks Javier. 

“Yeah,” he nods. As he buckles himself in, he takes a sidelong glance at her. She hesitates to meet his eye. Whatever it is he wants to say to her, he must forget it by the time she finally does look at him. They offer each other cordial grins before she turns her head, pulling out of the parking spot as the energetic sound of the Macarena fills the charged space between them. 

Javier discretely smiles at the lyric Dale a tu cuerpo alegría, Macarena. If there’s a God, he might be a cruel bastard. 

——

The classroom smells vaguely noxious, not helped by the stuffy, midday humidity carefully wafting through it. In their absence, the sun had risen and descended upon the school, creating an atmosphere that’s now relentless and overbearing, not safe for human life. Even the box fans on the desks, try as they might, fail to overcome the potent mixture of fresh paint and strong Texas heat. It goes without saying that their work is finished for the day—something they both feel silently grateful for, standing side by side in their shared awkwardness. 

Mariella gamely faces the room long enough to write a post-it note that reads “FRESH PAINT — PLEASE CLOSE UP BEFORE YOU GO. THANKS” for the janitor named Eddie. While she does this, Javier wanders the hall, doing his very best to ignore the sticky sweat that travels its way down his back. He figures he must smell like a story he won’t want to tell Chucho. One that he will, in all likely, not tell Chucho. Today’s cologne is Eau de Remorse, with hints of bone deep guilt, and unbeatable ennui, and he can’t wait to shower, to scrub his entire body of this day. Maybe to forget it ever happened, the way he seems to do with much of his life these days. 

The only thing tethering him to the school now is obligation, heavy as a stone, and to what he doesn’t exactly know. Maybe to her, maybe to himself. More likely to the latter. While the cigarette had pacified his craving, it had done very little for his nerves. He’s too high strung as is, the type of anxious that will keep him up for nights if he doesn’t leave her on better terms than this. 

“You didn’t have to stick around,” she says softly, coming up  to him once she’s finished. “You could’ve left. I wouldn’t have been offended.” 

Javier licks his lips and offers her a pacifist’s grin. “I wanted to see you out,” he half lies. He shrugs his shoulders as if to say It’s nothing, and tries with all his might to find words that can make up for what happened. 

She’s being so passive, almost as if they’ve been reverted back to their original roles: he the customer, she the clerk. It’d almost be easier if she were angry with him, so he’d at least know on some level what he could do to fix this, but she offers him nothing. Mariella holds her cards close to her chest, an emotional enigma in her own right. 

Maybe it is because she confuses him that he finds himself, perhaps pervertedly, more enticed by her than he’s been by anyone in a very long time. Or maybe it's because he knows the inside of her mouth, the taste of her, the way she feels pinned between his body and the counter, and that hasn’t happened to him in months. Whatever it is, it makes him feel boyish–timid in a way that is not befitting of someone of his stature or age. If she had any doubts about what sort of man he was in comparison to his reputation, he's sure he’s done very little to help them. 

The great thing about Mariella, though–the thing she possesses even now, staring up at him with an almost clinical gaze–is that she doesn’t seem to push ideas on him at all. She’s the first person since he’s been back that hasn’t asked him about Colombia, or Pablo Escobar, or what he plans to do next. She takes him as he is, reveals herself through her own stories and allows him the room to do the same. Retrospectively, he understands that he could’ve really liked Mariella. Of course he understands now that she’s got some hang ups of her own, but if he’d just taken it more slowly, allowed her to open up to him. 

But, as Chucho had been fond of telling him when he was a younger man, he’s made his bed, and now he must lie in it.

“I’m sorry, Mariella. I really am,” he tells her soberly, after a beat. She shuffles her belongings in her arms, looking away. Her tan cheeks tint red and he looks away too, back at the trophy case he’d been inspecting before she’d wandered up. This time she doesn’t soothe it over with her polite “it's alright,” but lets it hang between them, a curious, burning thing they will share, conspire about. 

On the way out of the school, he touches the small of her back instinctively, if not politely, guiding her through the doors. The touch is so sudden and unexpected she startles slightly beneath him. He draws his hand back, ashamed, startled too, and they look at each other. 

It is as if there is a ticking time bomb between them, and he came as close as he could to setting it off. His eyebrows furrow, the lines between them deep. In her eyes he sees for the first time that she is not angry, or mad, but embarrassed. Maybe even confused. Something exists between them that shouldn't, and this time he doesn’t make the same mistake as last time. He keeps his space, nods his head politely. “Goodbye, Mari,” he whispers before heading to his own car. 

As he stalks away, she stands, watching him go, thinking how curious of time it is to choose to use a nickname for the first time. 

Mariella knows she will see him again. That she must. Though she is no prophet, she foresees that Javier will be, in some way, her careful undoing, the stretch of forgiving land she needs to move forward, and not backward. How he will do it, she doesn’t know but for the first time she is ready, open to seeing. She sticks around for a little longer, and forgives him more deeply than he could ever hope for as he rides home silently, thinking that he’s ruined something nice forever.

[henrysglock]

Having a bit of a Henry monologue moment but like...I'm still a touch Bothered ™, and this is my account. So. I don't really care.

Moodboard for the people who were attacked for being normal and having fun on byIer tumblr during its August-October 2022 Purity Culture Boom who are watching the people who were puritans now take the opposite opinion because their original stance was all just an act for popularity/fandom morality kudos/Good Queer circle-jerking, but it's not trendy to be a puritan anymore so they have to flip sides to keep being Good and Right:

[more below the cut]

Guys when the purity culture fad is completely cyclical, and somehow we never seem to progress beyond it. It's always "fans vibing/being normal about media/making jokes", and then BOOM "anyone who even implies that teenagers might have sexual feelings for each other is a predator and a pedophile". Then eventually, after the damage is done, we drive those people out of the fandom by ignoring them until they leave out of boredom, only for a new round of people to come in a few months later and dig up the same old shit, and everyone loses their minds about it over and over again, when really it would be more effective just to ignore it, but no, no, everyone has to get their two-cents in (Myself included, I'm guilty of it too) and give these people the attention and validation of their moral "purity" that for some reason they're so desperately craving from people on the internet who have no idea how they actually act in real life. And all of this is somehow both detrimental to queer culture in its performative "save the children" right-wing rhetoric (Save the children from what? Being openly queer in a way that isn't childlike and infantilized beyond recognition? Gay boys having gay feelings about each other that aren't strictly ascetic and sexless?) and so entirely meaningless because we're having these arguments over fictional characters on a website...And it does all that while also harming people by witch-hunting them and throwing powerful, negative labels at them which end up either haunting their fandom experience or driving them from the fandom altogether...all because the drama-starters can't handle the idea of teenage boys kissing with tongue. (And why? Because it's ~perverse~? Is that what you want to say? Say it. Say what you mean, don't hide behind uwu moral goodness. Say that you think queerness is perverse and inappropriate for children. Go on, embrace your conservative viewpoints. Be honest.)

[redheadgleek]

Books read July-September

July The Grace of Wild Things by Heather Fawcett. A completely enchanting Anne of Green Gables retelling. Utterly delightful and unique. Book Lovers by Emily Henry. My first book that I’ve read of hers and it set high standards for the rest of them. I loved the characters, I loved the romance, and it just made me feel all the feelings. The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh (audio). A retelling of a Korean fairytale that I knew nothing about. I loved the voice actor (she sounded a lot like Christina Chong from Strange New Worlds). Under the Whispering Door by T.J. Klune (audio). Drove to Yellowstone and back and this was one of my listens. I think it was even better as an audiobook – the voices were great. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. I loved this book and I didn’t think I would, but it was written for my generation and dealt a lot with college and nostalgia and evolving friendships. A House with Good Bones by T. Kingfisher. I don’t like her horror as much as I like her fairy tales and fantasy. A Taste of Gold and Iron by Alexandra Rowland. A m/m romance set in a fictional Islamic-like world. The world building was fantastic, the magic building was disappointing, and the romance was sweet, if slow-building. The Celebrants by Steven Rowley. I almost gave up on this entirely after the first chapter, because it felt pretentious and dull and “look how adult we are because we are talking about using drugs”, but I kept reading because I liked the premise and by about half way through, I realized that i really liked the story and most of the characters. College nostalgia seems to be my thing right now, and this really captured that friendship – they just all needed less reliance on substances when having conversations. It made me want to do something similar with my friends.

August: Strange Planet by Nathan Pye. I really like his comics so this was a fun quick read from the library. In the Lives of Puppets by TJ Klune (audio). The book on the drive back from Yellowstone. I didn’t really like the voice actor, which is surprising because I loved his voices in The House in the Cerulean Sea. The rhythm of his voice was off-putting. Thunderhead by Neal Shusterman. Second book of the Arc of the Scythe series. A very solid second book. Nottingham: The True Story of Robyn Hood by Anna Burke. A gender swapped Robin Hood story – fast read and fun. The Emperor’s Soul by Brandon Sanderson. Friend recommendation. My first Brandon Sanderson read. This was a well developed little novella and an ending that surprised me and yet fit quite well. The Color of Money: Black Banks and the Racial Wealth Gap by Mehrsa Baradaran (audio). Truly depressing but important look at how systemic racism and blatant racism lead to the wealth gap. Anxious People by Fredrik Backman. Lovely book, with interwoven characters, and plenty of gray humor. The Moon by Night by Madeleine L’Engle. I had a hankering to reread this after my failed to launch summer romances. Definitely felt the age of this book (written in the 1960s) and the pacing is much different than I remembered, but still some sweet parts. Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki. I don’t even know how to describe this book. Space opera meets Faust? Foster by Claire Keegan. So much atmosphere packed in this short story. Beach Read by Emily Henry. Not quite as good as Book Lovers, but a close second. They just never read on a beach… Carry: A Memoir of Survival on Stolen Land by Toni Jensen. Book club. This was unexpectedly powerful and the theme of gun violence through was subtle but important. People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry. This was definitely a “you are my story had I had done what I could not do” for me so it probably hit me a little differently than others. It worked well as a When Harry Meets Sally rewrite. Thornhedge by T. Kingfisher. A short Sleeping Beauty retelling of a sort. I adored Toadling. Meet the Austins by Madeleine L’Engle. Went back to read book 1 since I felt like I had missed things with the Moon at Night. I don’t know if I’ll read the whole series again. Small Things Like These by Claire Keegan. I keep expecting really terrible things to happen to her characters so I’m on edge when reading, but it’s never as bad as I fear.

September: Happy Place by Emily Henry. I was quite in my unhappy place by the end of this book and could grumble about it for hours. The Toll by Neal Shusterman. I can understand why there was some disappointment with the ending of the trilogy but I thought it was quite fitting and I loved the last chapter. Dinners with Ruth: A Memoir on the Power of Friendships by Nina Totenberg. Made me really miss Ruth Bater Ginsberg, but I also liked the focus on how friendships enrich adults lives (I’m liking this theme of friendship much better than the problems with mothers of the first half of the year). A Deadly Education, The Last Graduate, and The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik. Friend recommendation. I found the 1st person narrative to be claustrophobic as it was all stream of consciousness and the world-building a little too pretentious, but the story was still enjoyable. Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall. His books are always hit or miss for me and this one fell into more of the miss bucket – the mystery solved itself halfway through, the next quarter was my least favorite romance trope, and then it was off for another mystery.

Currently reading: Firekeeper’s Daughter (tried this one on audio and it was too much teenager angst, so reading it instead, Braiding Sweetgrass (audio), The Romance Rx (I’m so determined to find a good doctors in training story. I’m a quarter of the way through and can tell you that this won’t be it).

Friend recommendations still to go: The School for Good Mothers by Jessamine Chan, Kaikeyi by Vaishnavi Patel, Sweet Like Jasmine by Bonnie Gray, Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt.

[ask-mtbg]

FNaF Characters! [ALTERNATIVES]

HI! HI!

This is like a continuation from my previous post, but this shows the OTHER characters I have! They're basically just the alternative versions of the already existing ones! Enjoy!

Name: Mike Schmidt [2017] Birthday: August 8th, 1975 Voice: New York™ Incarnate but more raspy and grouchy. Job: Security Dayguard and Tour Guide at Fazbear's Fright's.

Traits: Vengeful and (kind of) a Pyromaniac

How to Ask: Simply include "Mike [Fright's]", "Mike [2017]" or "Modern-day Mike" to ask him, or just directly say which version in your ask!

closest with: Luke

hatred of: Micheal Afton

story: Back in 1993, he was the guard for Freddy Fazbear's Pizza until Micheal Afton stole his identity and tampered with the animtronics, getting both himself and this guy fired. Now, he's both a tour guide and a nightguard at the place he once worked at. However, he has... much, much more motives to coming back. He's ending the cycle, apparently, how? By throwing it all, and watching the Burning Pile that comes afterwards. If he dies in the process, specifically in the fire? Even better.

Name: Fritz Smith [2017] Birthday: July 23rd, 1963. Voice: Steve Harvey but he's a lawyer now. Job: Judge alongside Lawyer from Smith Law and Justice Firm and Private Investigator. Traits: Investigative, just, and respectful. how to ask: Ask by specifying the question to "Honorable Smith" or "Justice Fritz". closest with: Nobody. hatred of: William Afton (and partially Henry Miller.) story: Back in 1987, he was fired on his first day. The reason? He's a lawyer investigating Fazbear's Entertainment, he knows what William did, and now he's moving past him. He's working to get rid of Fazbear Entertainment so that no more will they be able to walk away, scotch free, as if nothing happened. After all, only the weak kill, for they are not able to live earnestly!

Name: The Nightguardian (Jeremy Fitzgerald) Birthday: November 11th, 1971 Died: November 11th, 2001 Voice: Youthful, yet lost and timid. Motive: Avenge himself by seeing William Afton die. Forever. Traits: Brain-damage causes pauses in speech, extremely loyal but clingy, can be startling to some. how to ask: Simply specify you're asking the question to "The Nightguardian" or "The Nightguard's Angel" closest with: ...wait, who the fuck is Mercy? Apparently, she's not an angel, but still, who? hatred of: Nobody despite his motive. abilities: Materialization, invisibility, and (although not perfected) flight. weaknesses/fears: He died to his frontal lobe injury, so he's learning how to walk and talk again. story: The victim of The Bite of '87, he was a nightguard until his death in 2001 caused by his brain slowly dying after his frontal lobe went missing. William could've turned Mangle off. He could've sold her, or even scrap him entirely, and yet he didn't, and now, he too, is restless. Rumour has it that he often appears, trying to help modern-day security guards or just trying to make a friend. Won't you let him help you?

SUPRISE! I LIED! Brian Stells is added as an easter egg, so go ahead and ask him too! (Also because Jeremy Fitzgerald is like a doppelganger of him so...)

Name: Brian Stells! Voice: Brian Stells? Walten Files? Job: BSI Security Guard Traits: I remember seeing a post that says he apoligizes alot so yeahhh... how to ask: He's an easter egg, so just aks him directly! closest with: Nobody (because he doesn't even work here?!) hatred of: ...also... Nobody... he doesn't work here. (Seriously, I think he only knows Jeremy because ofcourse he knows his doppelganger.) note: When I say Jeremy is his doppelganger, I don't LITERALLY mean he's a doppelganger, I instead mean "two people who look eeriely alike, yet are not related what-so-ever." story: Go watch The Walten Files if you wanna ask him stuff.

[omar-rudeberg]

lost in the memory, august slipped away...

or: a few August hot takesTM which I’ve come to ponder after a two hour discussion about his character arc with my unfortunately August-stanning best friend (... which turned into this 3.5k word mammoth so... enjoy?)

seeking: calm, honest and thoughtful discussion/analysis about this fictional character’s journey

dni: just to start drama

[content warning: mention of eating disorders & suicide at #2]

1. Wilhelm doesn’t say Tack

Let’s start at the very beginning. August was not an awful person to Wilhelm at the beginning of the series. He was, perhaps, not as in tune to Wilhelm’s communicative style and what Wille actually wanted as he could have been, but he wasn’t nasty (to Wilhelm - more on this later). He was really just trying to be the guy’s friend. Remember that him treating Wilhelm just like any other new kid going through that (disgusting) initiation scene was an instance where August actually got it right - that is exactly what Wilhelm would have wanted. We see this in that first convo with Henry and friend at the dinner table.

My friend mentioned that August was basically king pin at the school, right? He had the ear of all the cool kids, he was in with the teachers / Headmistress, he knew everyone’s upbringing and their parents, etc. These things are all networks and connections that are important to survive any school, let alone an elite boarding school (let alone again if you’re the literal Prince). And we can see August and Wilhelm weren’t as close as August was with Erik, but August took him under his wing. He told him (what he thought) was right from wrong, he introduced him to his friends, he threw Wilhelm a big party. He’s captain of the rowing team, he got Wilhelm an in there. And we have to acknowledge that a lot of this may have come from wanting to please The Crown and not Wilhelm the person, but for August - who’s entire social experience is in the upper echelon bubble - these are not two disparate entities. And we hardly see Wilhelm grateful for any of it. 

He goes along with it all (”We’ve got some nice girls coming later” “Okay, nice”), but it’s not what captures his attention (*catches Simon’s eye the minute he walks in the door*). August must grasp during the course of the series just how many times it’s clear Wilhelm just does not want him around. And we don’t really see Wilhelm say thank you, or that he appreciates any of August’s efforts. My friend put it like, Wilhelm just takes and takes and uses what August provides for him (e.g. the Society) to completely tear him down (e.g. “And how much longer will you be a member?”). The closest we get to acknowledgement that August has had an impact on Wilhelm’s life in any way is that drunken exchange between the two before the football field. And that’s mostly to do with Erik anyway, not their (Wilhelm and August’s) brother-bond.

And if we’re looking from August’s perspective, for someone like August? This has all gotta hurt like hell.

2. Nature vs Nurture

(or: we’re all balancing on sword tip)

We’re all a product of our upbringing; all an amalgamation of the thoughts, fears, insecurities we grew up having, in the environments, atmospheres and physical realities we grew up in. August is no different, and all he knows (all he’s ever known) is this Royal, Elite, Rich world. He’s grown up alongside messaging that keeping this nobility status is so integral to his worth as a human being and the stability of his nation, and the poor kid’s not even eighteen. He hasn’t got a fully developed brain yet, and what has developed hasn’t been exposed to the diverse experience it needs to connect the “empathy, even when they’re different from you” synapses.

And don’t forget August can actually relate to Simon’s position in more ways than Wilhelm can - we can see he comes from a broken family, wrought with tragedy. I am so interested to hear more of his father’s story and how this has affected him - his father taking his own life would have insurmountably altered his entire world view. This would have been a perfect way to bond with Wilhelm, over their shared grief at losing such an important immediate family member. (In all fairness, this may have occurred off screen but-) We don’t see this - due to August not having worked through this trauma? He seems inexperienced going to that counsellor - has he not seen a professional for this? (Now I’m talking directly to you, Lisa, in that we need representation of privileged white boys needing / willingly going to / talking about therapy.) 

He’s actually worse off than Simon in the end, in that he doesn’t seem to have the support (or won’t accept support) from his mum, his one remaining parent. He knows familial conflict, he knows separation, he knows loss of trust and loss of safety. We see some of this childhood trauma manifest in what seems to be subtext of body dysmorphia, or an eating disorder. We don’t see too many food cues, but the disciplined, overactive workout / body inspection and drug abuse cues are there to point to this behaviour.

Add to all this his financial stability and tuition problems. How gut-wrenching it would be to hear that due to your parents’ failings, you are about to lose everything you hold most dear (Royal, Elite, Rich StatusTM) in a move that also takes you away from a community you have worked so hard to knit together for yourself, and away from your aspirations for the future.

We see that Wilhelm’s obviously come from a similar privileged background, and Wilhelm’s made some different (arguably better) choices when backed into corners throughout the series. What stops this being a direct parallel though is twofold: one - Wilhelm is the future of the Crown, and this position means we could never really compare their actions, and two - Wilhelm, from what we see, grew up with none of the childhood trauma relating to unhappy/separated parents as August did, so he’s been shaped a little differently. 

3. (Simply Not) Simon Says (August)

There’s been questions floating around to the tune of - Is August into Simon? Is August severely homophobic and that’s why he leaked the video? And I think Lisa answered this pretty succinctly in one of her instagram lives; I think the answer to both of these questions is no. As I’ve said before, in the scientific experiment that is this series, and especially the arc of Simon + Wilhelm + August, Queerness is actually the Constant. We have evolving Independent and Dependent Variables (the Crown, integrity, personal agency, family, duty), but the Queerness inherent in the characters and in the story-world is a Constant and never the actual issue.

August’s issue with Wilhelm + Simon was never that Simon’s a boy; it’s literally everything else about how his identity intersects marginalised communities. Simon’s POC, he speaks a language other than Swedish at home, he’s not of the nobility, he’s not even of the nouveau rich like Alexander. He’s got openly socialist, vaguely anti-monarchist opinions and values, he doesn’t even party like the rest of them. For August, since that first moment he saw the two talking, he’s been crossing his fingers and whispering Not Simon, Not Simon, Not Simon, Anyone BUT Simon for Wille. As this boy represents everything the Crown needs to stay away from to survive, and August’s first priority (after himself), is the Crown. Because the Crown in turn props him up into this life he’s used to.

I honestly, truly believe that if it’d been Henry he’d caught with Wilhelm that morning, he would have deleted the video, or at least not sat rewatching it that many times. Same with any of the girls (bar Sara). Ditto if it had been one of his mates, or even Alexander. But because it was Simon, it just… broke him. He could not believe that this was a decision Wilhelm had made. It goes against the entire culture he was raised in, every lesson he’s learnt from his circle of influence, every character trait he knew about Erik, to see the Crown Prince choosing a commoner this way. He cannot believe the inherent classism of his thoughts does not exist in Wilhelm’s. It alters his worldview.

This is why we see that short clip of August replaying the clip again after the montage of the boys telling their collective fib to the headmistress. Wilhelm did all this, tore August’s reputation and community to smithereens, to protect... Simon? His thoughts are stuck on ‘error 404 page not found’.

And what twists the knife is that he thought he had so much more to offer Wilhelm than Simon did. More camaraderie, more influence, more money, more opportunity, more more more. But Wilhelm never once paid August the close, concentrated, sincere attention or affection he sees in these mere seconds of footage between Wille and Simon. His belief that every member of the nobility had a similar hierarchy of needs crumbles, because it’s Simon (Simon!) at the top of Wille’s pyramid.

4. Kiss & Tell (Your Brother)?

Quick one (if you’ve made it this far you’ve earned it), about a thought my friend had about August kissing Sara in the stables. I’m still not quite sure what August’s entire thought process was here, but they reckon there could be a subconscious undertone that August kissing Sara could have a little to do with wanting to hurt Simon? 

The main intent, given the context of the scene, is that August believes Felice is emotionally attached more to Wilhelm than himself (the one she's actually dating), so wants to hurt her a little by similarly straying from their commitment. Except, he’s a hot-blooded masculine-raised man-child, so it’s gotta be a lil kissy kissy and not just an emotional connection *rolls eyes*.

However, my friend’s really interesting theory is that he chooses Sara specifically to draw a wedge between the friendship he sees developing between herself and Felice. A friendship that could solidify the space Sara and Simon take up at the boarding school - it could remove the brick wall between the boarders and non-res students labelling the Erikssons “other”. This would in turn cement Simon in his social circle and give Simon two degrees of separation from Wilhelm - something we’ve established he is trying to avoid. Also potential side effects of kissing Sara are that she’s annoyed by it, or distracted by it, and runs off to tell her brother everything, giving Simon something to focus on other than Wilhelm. 

Just an interesting thought. 

5. “The Crown Prince ((affectionate))”

I came across a post saying August’s reaction of “The Crown Prince” when he stumbles upon Wilhelm’s compromising position is an indication his first (conscious or otherwise) thought was something pertaining to Wilhelm’s position, not his person - and the potential for blackmail. I find this very interesting, and definitely believe this subtext was not a coincidence.

However my gut feeling with this line is that it’s potentially just underlining his upbringing, and more of the pick me, pick me Wilhelm tangent. He’s obviously severely inebriated here, sneaking back into the dorms at first light (“Alexander?”), and I believe he’s potentially just defaulted to the etiquette and social conditioning that has been his safety net his whole life. ‘Call those of a higher station than you by their official title, until the acquaintance has strengthened into a friendship.’

The other reason I think he says here “The Crown Prince ((affectionate))” instead of “Wilhelm” or “Wille” (as we know Augusts uses these terms), is that in his hazy drunk/high mind, he sees this as his golden ticket to being ‘buddy buddy’ with the new kronprins. Just a little something he can show Wilhelm the next morning, and say, “Look what I caught you doing,” and in that grossly toxic masculine hetero-normative way we know August bonds with the guys, ask who they were she was, how it went, what happened, wanting all the details, being inconsiderate and objectifying etc, hoping Wilhelm plays along. Hoping this can maybe be their little secret. Hoping Wilhelm may, for once, have to open up and trust him.

And here’s where that first interpretation comes in, because he’s not really asking Wilhelm to trust him, is he, when he’s got evidence? The subtleties in power dynamics that this show plays with blow my goddamn mind.

6. His Lips are Sealed

Carrying on from the previous discussion, my friend made two very very interesting observations. (1) August stops filming as soon as he recognises Simon’s face, and (2) August does not tell a soul about the video (...until he leaks it).

Now, I believe we’ve all been reading point (1) as either a homophobic action or elitist / classist shock on August’s part. But I present option three… August really did not want to be in the possession of a racy tape with two first year boys he knows. Perhaps he has a little admiration, deep deep deep (deep) down, for Simon’s pluckiness, and in this corner of his mind actually… doesn’t think this is right in the moment. Remember - we’ve got a severely smashed August at this exact second; his guard is down. Food for thought. Debate accordingly.

As to observation (2), this is… very interesting. Why doesn’t August say a word to a single soul? We know from episode two that smack talk of hook-ups is nothing new. But we can tell by the discussions happening at Forest Ridge after the leak that literally no one knows or even suspects in the slightest that it’s August. If anyone had known, there’d be whispers. He does nothing with the video except use it to bludgeon himself with Wilhelm’s obvious infatuation with someone other. He doesn’t joke with his friends, he doesn’t use it as fodder to embarrass Wilhelm as he is so wont to do. My best guess is that a desire to protect the Crown, and knowledge of what is and is not good for the Crown, is so inherent in August that he knows this is leaking gas in search of a flame. And if the monarchy burns, he goes with it. But then...

Why does he leak the video? 

He’s just been terribly betrayed. He’s mad. He’s angry. He’s hurt. He’s torn down, ripped apart, lost the girl, can’t trust his remaining family (mother and cousin). He acts on impulse and makes a decision. Makes a mistake.

My friend always says here - why isn’t August allowed mistakes? We’ve given our fair share to every other character. Why does August not get to pass go, collect $200, pick up a get-out-of-jail-free card? (Obviously he’s older than our 16 year olds, and the mistake is a different tier. I’m not here to debate the legality of his actions - especially when we’re fuzzy on their ages - I’m no Swedish law connoisseur. I’m talking strictly in terms of, narratively, what we will and will not allow from this character. What we will and will not forgive. And why.)

Take the parallel of Sara, right? There’s obviously greater intersectionality here with the presence of her neurodivergence, but Sara leaks a huge secret at Parents’ Lunch that absolutely smashes the life Felice has built up for herself to pieces. We see Felice crumble. Question everything. Have no one to go to (and subsequently go to the one person she really shouldn’t). Have to face her honest personality, her inherent self, and present this authentic reality to the world - as scary as this is. Sara does an August. Felice here is the Wilhelm we see at the end of the series. But somehow… Felice forgives Sara. We forgive Sara.

Consider - the world Sara exists in, that all the middle class do, appears to be a sparkly snow-globe imitation of the heavy pressing reality for anyone in the upper echelon; in the public eye. For anyone with honor-culture, noble ties and centuries of tradition strangling them. August and (especially) Wilhelm tread a canyon-spanning tightrope where Sara and Simon stumble on a primary school balance beam. A better view, but way further to fall.

All people feel, though. Everybody hurts. Yes, even August.

(Alexa, play “When the Chips are Down” from Hadestown.)

7. “Fuck You, August” is E A S Y

I know many of you know this, but it bears repeating for those who don’t: it’s always easier to place the blame on a single entity - a single person, event, situation, conversation, word, action or thought - than it is to understand the multifaceted reality we all exist in, and how various nuances in personality, environment, upbringing, culture, trauma and systems of oppression intersect to make Bad Things Happen. This is human. We want things to make sense. We want things to have a pretty beginning, and interesting middle, and a satisfying end. We see faces in inanimate objects to humanise them. Our sense of smell brings back memories created before we knew what memories were. Our brains are ridiculously complex micro-ecosystems of their own.

What I’m saying here is we want to blame August for every single thing that goes wrong in Wilhelm’s life, because it’s easy. It’s clean. And we’re being told to (see: next point).

Consider: If Swedish society/law was accepting of someone in line to the throne existing outside the expected monogamous, elite, cis-het marriage, and after August leaked the video Wilhelm could just ‘come out’ (I hate the necessity of this term but it is what it is) and say he was in a romantic relationship with Simon - how much do you hate August now?

Consider: If Wilhelm’s mum had told him about August before the interview, and Wilhelm had time to process this, to consider his options, to confront August, to deal with the grief of his second cousin betraying him in this way, to talk to Simon about it; whether or not he decided to deny the video - how much do you hate August now?

Consider: If August was the one that recorded the video, but instead of just covering up the fact that it was him, it was Sara that leaked the tape in a deal with August to get what she wanted - with this divided pair to blame, how much do you hate August now?

Consider: If August stays exactly the same, but it’s not him that finds Wilhelm and Simon; it’s Henry, or it’s Alexander, or it’s Nils; one of these boys records the two, perhaps leaks the tape for a bit of cash, or just for a laugh - how much do you hate them & how much do you hate August now? (Is it the act you despise, or the person August’s set up to be?)

This second act set-up, exploration and resolution is incredibly complex, and makes many statements about many different aspects of not only Swedish, but all monarchist and all human societies. What do you really feel passionately about here, that the show is channeling through to you via this situation and specifically the character of August? LGBTQIA+ rights? Socialism (eat the rich)? The monolithic power of social media? Exploitation in tabloid/press culture? Sexual consent education expanding to include respect and literacy of nudes/videos? The breakdown of love, trust and unity within extended families? That we should support children’s emotional needs before all else, including reputational risk?

My friend vehemently argues: don’t hate the player, hate the game.

8. Filmmaking is all about G A Z E

This dot point starts with an anecdote: So I was ranting to a friend once about how I was frustrated and feeling so annoyed at this decision a character made in a TV show. It was an empowered feminist decision, and in my real life I advocate so incredibly strongly for everyone (and especially non-cis-men) for their right to choose, so I was wondering why seeing this right to choose exercised in a fictional reality made me so mad? And she turns to me and says “It’s how the show wants you to feel. Don’t feel bad for reacting with the emotions the show was literally crafted to create within you.”

Young Royals is Wilhelm’s story. It starts and ends with him. Simon is very very important, as are the other three main characters. But this is Wilhelm’s story, and we are taken on his emotional journey in six episodes. We’re taken out of the club, into the Palace’s stranglehold, out to the countryside. We feel the release of Erik’s (last) embrace; the warmth of Simon’s first. We fall into Simon’s eyes, into Felice and her friends. Down to Erik’s grave and back to the surface. Into Simon again (and again). We feel Wilhelm’s deep breath as he squares off to August. 

And specifically regarding August, understand that Wilhelm has no clue that any non-rowing related interaction has taken place between August and Simon until halfway into episode 5. He hasn’t seen their nastiness, their tiffs. He hasn’t seen the August we’ve seen, with just his friends, making fun of the ‘sandal wearing socialist boy’. He hasn’t seen August being weirdly cagey with Felice, ignoring her pleasure, just showing her off. August has been this constant (albeit slightly annoying, weirdly pushy and a little manic) presence in his Hillerska life. Someone he’s been told he could trust. This is Wilhelm’s emotional state throughout the series, and therefore the lens through which the audience interprets the story.

And how does Wilhelm’s aforementioned long tumultuous journey end? We feel as everyone that was in Wilhelm’s corner is slowly stricken out of his life, one by one, in the last episode. We see Wilhelm blaming this on one event, one action, one video, one boy. We end the series with Wille’s (justified, in his eyes) all-consuming, toe-curlingly livid rage directed at August. 

No wonder you (we) feel the same. So...

“Don’t feel bad for reacting with the emotions the show was literally crafted to create within you.” 

I’d caveat this, though, with the fact that it can be a good exercise to ask:

“Why?”

[quietmyfearswith]

cartoons ; preferences

warnings — fluff (?) 

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, ransom drysdale, bucky barnes, lance tucker, syverson, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, i understand that for some their litlte age or little space activities varies for some but for this sake lets imagine that the reader loves to watch cartoons,, feedback is appreciated :)

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure | slipping into little space | fussy | happy hoelidays

masterlist

As a reward for her good behavior, Andy allowed Y/N an extra half hour to watch television and she chose to watch her favorite cartoon — Higglytown Heroes. “Poor kitty!” She gasped out as the kitten was stuck on a tree. The lawyer was seated on the couch beside her with his hand rubbing her back as he quietly read a case file, “Kip is stuck now too!” Silently chuckling at her blow by blow report of the events of the cartoon he proceeded to read until he was summoned, “Dada, what will happen now?” Her eyes displayed worry and curiosity so he set the folder on the side table before making a guess, “Maybe they’ll ask someone from help? Let’s watch it, little missy.”

A few moments later, the characters were singing a song to reveal that they would be asking help from the firefighters. “You see that, missy? Who rides a big red vehicle with sirens?” His question got her racking her brain for a bit before answering, “Is it from the firefighters, dada?” Smiling widely as he pecked her cheek, he praised her, “Such a smart girl!” Her giggles indicated she loved the praise he was giving her, “The firefighters are the heroes because they help others.” Pondering on what he said, she stared at his bearded face with her lips pursed with a deep stare. “What are you thinking about, missy?” It was unusual for her to be this silent and serious when she was deep in little space, so it was slightly concerning. “Heroes help people; right, dada?” Andy nodded as he revisited the cartoon, “Mhm, just how the firefighters helped Kip and the kittens.” Holding his hand, she played with it as she concluded, “So does that make dada a hero too?” With a mouth hung agape, no words left the lawyer’s mouth as he was dumbfounded as his girl continued her explanation, “You help people and protect them right?” Planting a kiss on his bearded cheek, he smiled as her words of, “You’re my favorite hero, dada,” Melted his heart in the best way possible.

“Little one, what do you want to do today?” Hearing August’s deep voice tore her attentive eyes away from the television screen as she smiled sweetly at him, “Can we bake that cake, daddy?” Following where her finger pointed to where Mr. Bean was currently slicing a piece of the chocolate cake. Sitting down adjacent to where his beloved was sitting on the floor, he tried to convince her from doing something else, “Perhaps you’d rather go to the park? Or even color?” Crossing her arms as she let out a huff — an indication that her mind was set on imitating the animation meal, “But daddy I want to try the cake! It looks so yummy and I want to taste it!” Comparing her attitude to the previous times she whined about wanting something, she was relatively tame — so it ultimately convinced him that there was no harm in complying with what she wanted. “Okay, we’ll bake the cake,” She clapped her hands, excited at the thought of getting to taste the pastry; but her glee was halted as the CIA agent raised a brow at her, “But you have to wait a little while okay? Daddy still needs to find a recipe for the cake and see if we have the right ingredients; can you be a good girl in the meantime?” Nodding her head up and down, she proceeded to clasp her hands together on her lap as she returned to silently watching the cartoon. Draping an arm over her shoulders, his other hand fished out for the phone on his pocket and searched for the recipe; and he did find one after a few minutes.

With a kiss on her shoulder, he then excused himself to the kitchen to check if they have all the required ingredients; and when they did have everything it was then he called for her, “Turn off the television, little one. I found a recipe and we can bake that chocolate cake!” Never in their entire relationship had he seen her comply instantaneously and with a smile on her face. Standing beside him he smirked as he placed the cute apron he got her, “Are you ready to be a good baker, little one?” Jumping on her feet she nodded as she exclaimed, “I am, daddy! Can’t wait to feed you what we baked,” To show her appreciation of him going along with what she wants, she stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek, “Thank you so much, daddy. I love you.”

“Tătic, what color do you like most — pink, blue, or green?” She asked the former Winter Soldier without diverting her gaze from the piece of paper she was drawing on; the man in question however stopped reading the newspaper he was reading as he peered up. “I like the color blue the most, sweetheart; why’d you ask?” Continuing with her drawing, she just mumbled a soft, “Nothing,” And there was really nothing alarming about her behavior so he shrugged it off and continued to read about current events. After a few silent minutes, Y/N asked him again, “Would you rather be an owl, a cat, or a chameleon?” Bucky was able to connect some of the dots — the three colors and animals she mentioned was reminiscent of her favorite cartoon, “Why are you asking me about PJ Masks, sweetie?” Having been caught, she removed her focus from her drawing to look up from where he was sitting on the couch while she was sitting cross-legged at the floor. “I’m drawing something for you, tătic. Please don’t take a peek yet.”

She so sweetly requested it from him that he had just nodded and answered, “I’d rather be a chameleon, sweetie,” Before reading through the text again. Folding the newspaper and placing it by the side table; deciding that he needed to scratch an itch, he quietly lowered himself to sit on the floor. Once doing so, he inched closer to his left so he could try to sneak a peek at  what Y/N was drawing; but it was as if spending so much time with the super soldier she gained spy skills, she sensed what he was trying to do and was quick to call him out on it, “Tătic, stop peeking!” Wrapping both his arms on her waist as he rubbed his forehead against her arm as he dramatically sighed, “But sweetheart I wanna see what you’re drawing.” Matching his sigh with a dramatic one of her own, she then pushed his face away and grabbed her drawing pad. “Okay here it is, tătic,” She showed him a suit she was sketching for him, it was blue and she tried to replicate Gecko’s scale in the suit but it proved too difficult to do so. “Wanted to design a new suit for you, tătic; you know just like in PJ Masks.” Unable to let out an audible coo, Bucky hugged Y/N in his arms as he planted kisses on the top of her head, “I love it so much, sweetheart. I love you so much.”

“What are you doing to my hair, doll?” Steve wondered as she was sitting on his lap, with her tongue slightly poking out of her cheeks as her hands were ruffling through his hair in her efforts to style him. “Just fixing your hair, sir.” Her answer just confused the retired Avenger even more as he just brushed his hair earlier; but apparently it wasn’t good enough for her. She was arranging the strands of his hair so they’d stand up instead of his usual look. “Only a little bit more and you’ll look like Ryder.” At the mention of that name, Steve was slightly concerned that he had a rival for his lover’s affection, “Who’s Ryder, baby doll?” Feeling giddy with the nickname she was called, she failed to focus on how he asked the question venomously. “The team leader of PAW Patrol, sir.” He let out a relieved sigh as relaxed visibly as he allowed her to rummage through his golden locks. 

“Why do you want to style me like Ryder?” Halting her movements through his hair, she grinned widely upon seeing that his hair now looked like the cartoon character’s. “Because you’re so much like him, sir. You’re both leaders and love dogs too!” The last part peaked his attention as she seemed extra giddy at the mention of dogs, “Is this your way of telling me you want a dog too?” Placing her head against his chest, she nodded as she shyly mumbled, “Yes, sir.” His fingertips grazed the skin of her shoulders, “Then are you gonna name ‘em after the dogs in PAW Patrol?” The suggestion had her enthusiastically nodding against his chest, “I’d love that so much, sir!” Hugging her frame flush against him, Steve then decided to play along with her, “Maybe someday, when you prove to be responsible enough; if I’m Ryder, who are you then?” Removing her face from his chest she beamed, “The Princess of Barkingburg! Which means you need to comply with my orders of us getting a dog!”

gif by @henry-cavlll​ i really wanted this gif but it wouldnt appear on the gif finder

“Aika, come here, doggy!” Upon hearing her name called, the German Shepherd plopped  herself down beside the girl who was currently watching cartoons as she was watching her favorite cartoon as she waited for Sy. Stroking her brown fur she looked at the dog who was staring at her with curious eyes, “Do you like the color red, Aika?” As the dog laid her head down on her thigh, the little girl took it as a no. “Why not? Clifford likes the cower red,” She pointed to the huge dog who was licking Emily as she was brushing his fur. “Maybe Captain will let me put red color on you,” She then began to brush her own nimble fingers against the brown and black fur of the dog as she imagined what it would look like with the color red instead.

“I’m home, baby girl!” Sy announced as he closed the front door behind him. Her head turned to his appearing figure with a wide smile as she waved enthusiastically, “Captain! I had a bright idea.” Having his curiosity piqued, he told her to remain seated on the couch as he placed some of the groceries he bought on the kitchen island and sat beside her. Not even more than a second after he sat down, she immediately perched herself on his lap, calling for Aika as well to scooch closer to the both of them. “What are you up to, baby?” Bopping her nose with his finger and she playfully chased his finger to bite it; pointing to the television where Clifford the Big Red Dog was still playing, “Clifford is red, right?” Not knowing where she was going with this, he just nodded and looked at her with curious eyes as she pointed to their dog who was laying on her crossed paws, “Can we please color Aika red? Please?” Chuckling at her suggestion, the former soldier could only shake his head, “No we can’t color her red, babygirl.” At the sound of the rejection of her idea, Y/N pouted in hopes to persuade him to change his mind, “But you colored her green!” Sighing, he held her hands as he explained, “Captain only colored her green so she wouldn’t be taken away.” With a huff she crossed her arms as she continued to whine, “I want a red dog.” Coming up with a bright idea, Sy then offered, “How about I buy you a Clifford stuffie? That way you’ll have your own red dog.” Almost immediately her pout left her mouth as her eyes shined at the thought of having one and she wrapped her arms around his neck as she excitedly squealed, “Yes please, Captain! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“What’s going on, papa?” Y/N wondered as she found Lance perched down on the floor as he was tinkling with his laptop; she awoke from her nap and instead of having the gold medalist wake her up it was the faint groans and curses he let out that woke her up. Looking up from where he was trying to get the device to work, he put on a smile upon seeing his girl, “I can’t get the laptop to turn on, angel.” He was only slightly alarmed when she jumped and down, “Oh let me help, papa! Hold on, let me get my tools!” He could barely process anything she said as she was quick to leave him on the floor.

Dismissing her behavior, he turned his attention back to his laptop and stared at it as if his gaze would get it back to work. “Handy Y/N at your service! You break it, I fix it!” She said the cartoon character’s famous catchphrase, she held onto her own version of the toolbox he got her as a surprise. Smiling, Lance patted the spot beside him as he called her for help, “Hello handy Y/N! Can you please help me fix my laptop?” With a slight pout, she pretended to inspect the device for a little bit before grabbing Felipe, the yellow screwdriver that seemed to be her favorite character, and pretended to screw around the device. As she turned to place the tool box on its container and was rummaging through her tools, the gymnast sneakily pushed the power button and by some miracle it did turn on, “Look at that, angel! You fixed my laptop!” She jumped a bit at the sound of his voice but smiled widely upon seeing the screen light up, “I guess Handy Manny really teaches you how to fix things huh, angel?” Nodding her head she smiled brightly as she grabbed her toolbox and struck a pose, “It did, papa! And now I can always fix something up for you; you only have to pay me with kissies and cuddles!”

“King, can I pick what we’re both going to wear?” Ransom looked up at the girl who laid beside him, they both woke up a few minutes ago and they were just cuddling in bed as they traced shapes into each other’s skin; usually she would ask if she could dress herself, never him as well. Seeing how she hasn’t had the chance to slip into her comfort space usually — thanks to her demanding priorities — he didn’t see any harm in letting her do so; after all, he wanted her to enjoy her Christmas break. With a sweet kiss to her forehead he allowed it, “Okay princess, you can choose what we both wear. But why stop there? Choose what you want us to do this morning too.” Her eyes lit up with excitement at what he said as she stood up from the bed, leaving the former playboy to whine about missing her warmth, and search through their shared walk-in closet about the clothing articles she was looking for. Returning with their matching cable knit sweaters and a pair of plaid pajamas that had a king and queen symbol sewn on it. With a raised brow, Ransom silently wondered if she was planning this for a while and her excited squeal of, “Wear this one please, king — this way we’re like B1 and B2!”

“So that’s why you wanted us to match huh?” He concluded out loud as he sat up on the edge of the bed so he could reach for her to tickled her sides; in between her fit of giggles, Y/N managed to confirm it, “Mhm, I wanted to be like them. And this is my way too of making up for not spending so much time with my king.” Displeased with the whiff of sadness at her statement; grabbing for both of her hands, he held it against his as he rubbed soothing circles on it, “Princess, I completely understand that you were buried in your workload, okay? I’m so proud that you got to accomplish everything right away,” He paused his little speech to plant kisses on the back of both her palms before inquiring, “So have you decided what we’re going to do?” Nodding her head yes she shared what her ideal morning would look like, “Maybe you can make my favorite breakfast, king? Then watch ``Bananas in Pyjamas together?” Ransom could feel his heart flutter with how simple she was — which was a stark contrast to how the people that surrounded him for all his life was extremely materialistic — that all she wanted was to be with him for that would make her happy. Grabbing the clothes she had picked out in one hand as the other hand was dragging his princess on the other to guide them to the bathroom to change he jokingly scolded her, “Then what are we waiting for? We can’t let B1 and B2 waiting for us for too long!”

“I understand we have a holiday break, but I just wanted to go over the contents of the report one more time,” Will tiredly explained as he was having his final video conference before his holiday break. Y/N was currently watching Twirlywoos in the living room. Redirecting her gaze from the television screen to her bubba who was stressed out and she wanted to help him relax — but knew that one way of doing so is by not bothering him right now as he worked. “Okay, see you all again on January 3rd,” Was the last thing Will said before ending the call and groaning out loud as he rubbed his hands on his eyes, “Bubba, are you okay?” Hearing her concerned and small voice snapped him out of his distress; he was then quick to put up a smile on his lips as he left his home office that was adjacent to the living room and sat beside her on the couch. “I am now, munchkin. Bubba doesn’t have to work for two weeks and you have him all to yourself.” With that Y/N smiled brightly as well and kissed all over his face, “Okay calm down, munchkin,” He laughed feeling ticklish with all her kisses, “How about a snack?” Nodding her head, she accepted the help he offered her to stand from the floor, “Yes please, bubba.” 

Grabbing her hand he led her to the sit on one of the chairs on the breakfast bar, and just as Will was about to head to the pantry to grab some snacks he remembered, “Oh hold on, I just need to fix my things before fixing you a snack, okay?” The business consultant expected that his girl would be disappointed but she was the opposite, “Can I help you with that, bubba?” He had to take a double look at her as he wondered out loud, “Are you sure you want to help? And I don’t think you know exactly how to do so, munchkin.” She pouted when he doubted her capabilities, “I do! I learned from the Twirlywoos,” She pointed to the cartoons playing on the background — the family of four were now carelessly shoving all the beach items inside the tent — and since this was her favorite show, she’d watch this particular episode multiple times and picked up quite a few things. Will wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist to lead her into his home office, “Very well, my Chickadee munchkin, show me what you learned from the show.”

[veryverynotgoodwrites]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV), A Discovery of Witches (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan, Captain Hook | Killian Jones & Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Maleficent Characters: Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Emma Swan, Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Maleficent (Once Upon a Time), Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Knave of Hearts | Will Scarlet, Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena, Pinocchio | August Booth, Liam Jones (Once Upon a Time), Arthur (Once Upon a Time), Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time), The Apprentice (Once Upon a Time), Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Robin Hood (Once Upon a Time), Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Alice Jones | Tilly, Belle (Once Upon a Time) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions Summary:

“Once the world was full of wonders, but it belongs to humans now. We creatures have all but disappeared. Daemons, vampires, and witches - all hiding in plain sight, ill at ease even with each other. But, as my father used to say, in every ending...there is a new beginning.”

A Captain Swan AU.

*I do not own any of these characters from OUAT, nor any part of A Discovery of Witches. Some dialogue and events are taken from both OUAT and ADOW to create this story, and are products of their original writers. This is just a fun CS au for your reading pleasure.

-

Long awaited, even longer procrastinated -

I present my addition to the 2021 Captain Swan Supernatural Summer event: Blood & Magic, a CS/ADOW AU! @cssns

The entire time I read A Discovery of Witches, I absolutely adored the story and the relationship, but it wasn't until I saw the show that it clicked - it was perfectly suited to be a Captain Swan story!

I've been planning and working for months to get this out to you guys, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as you'd hoped!

Huge thank you to my beta, @ultraluckycatnd, for being patient and just generally being awesome while I was brainstorming at random times of the day/night! You're the best.

Another huge thank you to my artist, @mariakov81!!! I've enjoyed getting to know you, and I'm so pleased with what you've created for this story so far! Thank you so much! It’s stunning, and I can’t wait to see what’s coming in the future!

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tags list!

@teamhook @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @tiganasummertree @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @ultraluckycatnd @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells​ @xarandomdreamx​ @klynn-stormz​

[wistfulcynic]

from one minute to the next

A little something inspired by the prompts @winterbythesea posted here and here and here. This is not those prompts exactly (nor is it what I outlined on the discord, sorry guys) but I think it carries the same lighthearted dumbass energy as they do. 

Also, Killian Jones does not know what a ‘date’ is. Fight me, show. 

Summary: Emma’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow she finds herself going from single and solitary in the city one minute to smoothly co-parenting with her ex, living with a pirate, and at home in a town full of storybook characters the next. 

Home. She never thought she’d have one of those. 

This is the story of how she got there. 

(also no! curse! renaissance! 3B divergence without Pan’s curse) 

<3k words  Rated T

AO3

-

from one minute to the next: 

Emma was never entirely certain how it happened. 

One minute she was telling Neal she didn’t want to get back together with him, that it was just too late for them now, and he was looking sad but in a resigned sort of way, as though he regretted the truth of her words while still recognising that they were true. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have listened to August. I shouldn’t have left you like that. If I hadn’t…” 

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t have to. They both knew how different things would have been if he hadn’t left her. And they both knew that it was far too late to undo what had been done. The only option left was to move on. 

“We found each other again, though,” she reminded him. “And we found Henry.” 

“You mean Henry found us.” 

“Yeah, that’s probably more accurate.” 

They shared a chuckle, and for the briefest moment the years fell away and she remembered why she’d fallen for him. And for the first time since she’d run him down in a New York alleyway, Emma looked at Neal and she felt hopeful.  

“Anyway,” she said, “Henry wants both of us in his life. He deserves that, and I think he needs it. And I think for it to work we need to try to be friends.” 

“No hard feelings, then?” Neal asked, hopefully. 

Emma hesitated. 

What did she feel for Neal? There was still affection, of course there was—the stubborn remnants of a passionate first love that she doubted would ever fully die. There was resentment too, a lot of it, and a lot of hurt. A fair bit of anger. So yeah, there were some hard feelings, but there also wasn’t much point in attempting to hash any of them out with Neal. Not when they needed to move forward.   

She produced a smile, slightly stiff at the edges but he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Sure. No hard feelings.” 

Neal’s face broke into a grin, the wide, happy kind that crinkled his eyes and once upon a time would have sent Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. Now it just made her think of another crinkly grin, one far rarer and all too often tinged with sadness. 

“Neal,” she said. “I’ve got to go.” 

-

The next minute she was at the docks, breathing deeply and gathering her courage, looking up at the Jolly Roger and hoping Hook—Killian—would be there, in his cabin, maybe with his flask and one of the books that lined his shelves. More than once these past few weeks she’d caught him tucked up in a corner somewhere, reading, and Belle informed her that he actually had a library card. 

“He didn’t have the required ID,” she’d said with a little smirk. “But I think we all know who he is.” 

Emma was pretty sure she did know that, now, and the knowledge propelled her forward, onto the deck of the ship then down to his cabin where she knocked firmly on his door and shivered a bit when his voice called for her to enter. 

He looked up, surprise registering on his face followed swiftly by the delight he could never quite conceal when he saw her. 

“Swan,” he purred. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Emma’s heart was pounding and her throat dry, and honestly it was ridiculous to be this nervous, it wasn’t like he was going to say no. 

“I’m, um. Heretoaskyouout,” she blurted. 

He frowned. “To what?” 

Emma drew a deep breath and tried again. “Ask you out.” 

“Out of where?” 

“What? No. What?” 

“Where do you want me to go out of? This is my ship.” 

Emma resisted the urge to smack herself on the forehead. Of course he didn’t know what ‘ask you out’ meant, he was like a thousand years old. “No, no, I mean out on a date,” she explained. Tried to explain anyway, though his confusion just grew more apparent. “Like, to dinner or something. You and me. Out.” 

“Ah. Ah.” 

She watched as he turned the unfamiliar phrase over in his head, watched his eyes brighten with interest at learning a new thing, then when he finally realised fully what it meant she watched a rosy pink flush creep across his cheekbones and up to the tips of his ears. 

He swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice was gruff. “Let me be certain I understand. You want us, as in you and me, to go someplace and eat dinner together. Just—just us?” 

She nodded. “Yeah.” 

“And in this realm that is called a date?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And am I to understand that there are… romantic connotations to these dates?”

‘Romantic connotations’, she thought, for fuck’s sake, and did her best to ignore the fluttery feeling she always got in her belly whenever he broke out the big words. Aloud she said “Yeah.” 

“I see.” He swallowed again. “And when do you propose we have this date?” 

“Um. Tonight?” 

Aaand there it was, that wide and crinkly grin that made the blood rush far too recklessly through her veins, this time with no sadness lurking behind his eyes. None at all. 

“Tonight it is, then,” he said. 

-

One minute Emma was alone and telling herself she was content to be so, the next she had parents and a son and an ex who was almost a friend, and she was dating. Dating Hook, which she told herself firmly was only weird if she thought too hard about it. She wasn’t actually dating Captain Hook, of course she wasn’t. That would be ridiculous. No, she was dating Killian Jones—who was surprisingly, endearingly, sweet and nervous about it at first, like he wasn’t entirely certain her interest was real and was doing his utmost to tread carefully.

Emma didn’t want him always on his best behaviour, though, and while Killian was wonderful she knew that both of them still needed at least a little bit of Hook. And so it was that after their third date, when Henry was with Neal and Emma had made it very clear to her parents that they were not to expect her home before morning, that she and Killian stumbled back to his ship tipsy on rum but drunk on each other, and she made certain he understood exactly how interested she was. 

It was very. She was very interested. 

And when they awoke the next morning and she groaned at the glaring sunlight and pressed her face into his neck, muttering that it was too damn early and she needed caffeine, he ran his fingers through her hair and informed her he had a coffeemaker in his galley. 

She pulled back and blinked at him. “You what?” 

He flushed slightly, though with a pleased grin. “I asked Granny and she showed me what I needed, and helped me buy it.”

“But why? You don’t drink coffee.” 

He shrugged. “It’s growing on me. And besides, I thought—well, I hoped—that you might want to spend some time aboard ship in the future and, well, I want you to feel comfortable here and to have the things you like.” 

She stared at him for a moment as his flush deepened, then surged forward and kissed him, wrapped herself tightly around him and kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless and the coffee forgotten until much, much, much later. 

-

Another minute passed and they were marking six months together. Emma had rented a place of her own, nothing fancy but hers, and she and Killian were spending most of their nights there. Her bed was bigger than the bunk in his cabin, softer and with actual springs, and her parents, Granny, and Ruby had all chipped in to buy her an espresso machine. Small but serviceable, like her apartment. Granny taught both her and Killian how to use it—and honestly, Emma thought, you haven’t truly lived until you’ve seen a shirtless pirate with a hook for a hand whip up a latte on a Sunday morning—and she was, tentatively, happy. 

Very happy. 

She didn’t see too much of Neal. He spent time with Henry of course and with Belle, renovating the pawn shop and brightening it a bit, removing what traces they could of the Dark One’s influence. She also knew he was volunteering at the convent where the Lost Boys lived, helping them get accustomed to life in Storybrooke and make it their home. 

He might also, she suspected, have become somewhat more than friends with Tink. 

-

And then one night Emma and Killian had dinner at a new place by the docks, where they gorged on seafood and drank a bit too much wine and decided, for safety and for old times’ sake, to spend the night on the Jolly Roger rather than trying to get home. 

Home. She had a home now, and a man who as good as lived there with her. She should really get around to asking him to live there officially, she knew. She kept meaning to. She wanted to, she truly did. But as conversations go that one felt so weighty and so significant that she wanted to be sure to do it right and so in the end she’d done nothing at all—nothing except feel that little bit more guilty each time Killian asked her politely if it was all right for him to stay. 

Yes, she wanted to tell him. Stay forever. Soon she would. 

They stumbled onto the ship and to his cabin, foolish and messy in a way they hadn’t been for a while. Emma realised she had missed this a bit, the dark, almost feral look in Killian’s eyes when he was just this shade of drunk and she was naked in his bed on his ship. 

“You are… so beautiful, Emma,” he growled against her throat as his fingers tangled in her hair. “Have I told you how you steal my breath away?” 

“Not for at least an hour,” she teased. 

“Remiss of me.” 

“Mmm. However will you… ohhh… make it up to me?” 

He pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Oh, I have one or two ideas.” 

-

They woke late the next morning as was their habit on a Sunday, and Emma groaned as the light pierced her eyelids and straight through her throbbing head. 

“Killian.” She poked him in the ribs. 

“Mmphh,” he replied. 

“You still have your… thing. Right? Coffee thing? In the galley?” 

“Aye.” He rubbed his eyes and blinked. “I believe there’s aspirin in there as well.” 

Emma turned her poking finger into a caressing one, stroking him with the tip of it. “Killian,” she said again, in a wheedling tone. 

“It’s your turn to make the coffee and you know it, Swan,” he replied, in his pirate captain voice. 

She huffed. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine.” She flung the covers off and rolled out of bed, snatched his shirt from the floor and threw it on, buttoning it just enough to keep it from flapping when she walked. “I’m guessing you don’t have milk though.” 

“Certainly not any in a drinkable state. Though there should be some of that horrid creamer.” 

She perked up. “Cinnamon?” 

“What else?” 

In the galley Emma found the coffeemaker and an open packet of coffee that smelled surprisingly fresh given how long it had been since they’d last slept here. There was also the cinnamon creamer, unopened, and a big bottle of aspirin. One minute she was pulling everything off the shelves and turning to set them on the table, and the next the door was swinging open and a person walking through it, and Emma found herself colliding sharply with a bare chest. A familiar bare chest. A familiar bare chest that was not Killian’s. 

“Neal!” she shrieked, dropping everything in her arms. “What the fuck!” 

“Emma!” He looked equally stunned. “What the—what are you doing here?” 

“Here on my—on Hook’s ship, you mean?” My boyfriend’s ship, she wanted to say, but calling a 300-year-old pirate a boyfriend was something she still couldn’t do, however objectively true it may be. 

“The ship he said I could use whenever I needed it?” countered Neal. “Yeah, that one!” 

“He said you could use his ship?” 

“Uh huh, he did. When I, you know.” A shifty look crept onto his face. “Wanted privacy.” 

“Priva-oh!” Emma’s eyes widened as the penny dropped. Neal was still living in his father’s house. The house where Belle also lived. “Um. I see.” 

“Yeah.” Neal didn’t meet her eyes. “But why are you here, don’t you have your own place now?” he demanded. “I thought Hook lived with you.” 

“Not officially,” she muttered. “And we, um, had a bit to drink last night at that new seafood place and you know.” She shrugged. “The ship was closer.” 

“Huh. Well that explains those noises I heard last night.” 

Emma was just about to ask him what the fuck that was supposed to mean when the door opened again and a voice called “Why don’t I smell coff—oh! Um. Hi Emma.” 

Emma pressed her thumbs against her temples. “Hey, Tink.” 

The fairy was dressed identically to how Emma herself was, only the shirt she wore was Neal’s. An old Metallica tee because of course. 

“Well,” said Tink. “That explains those noises we heard.” 

Neal nodded. 

“What noises—” Emma began, then the door opened again. 

“Did you find everything, love—oh. Er.” Killian appeared in the room wearing only his jeans and without his hook. He scratched behind his ear. “Hello, friends and enemies.”

“Hook,” said Tink and Neal. 

“Killian,” said Emma. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You never told me you were letting Neal stay here.” 

“Ah. I did offer him use of the first mate’s quarters whenever he was seeking a bit of privacy, yes. If you remember, love, my quarters proved invaluable in that respect when you were still living with your parents.” 

Emma felt her cheeks grow hot. “Yeah,” she muttered. 

“I merely thought Neal and Tink could do with a bit of the same benefit. And you know the Jolly gets lonely if she’s left by herself for too long. Although,” Killian favoured Neal and Tink with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, “I did make that offer quite some time ago now. And I don’t believe I said anything about staying here.” 

“Yeah, well.” Neal’s face took on that belligerent look he got when he was feeling defensive. “I don’t want to move out of Papa’s place and leave Belle alone.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Emma demanded. 

Everyone stared at her. “What?” asked Neal. 

“Belle’s seeing Ruby.” 

“Ruby?” 

“Yeah. For like three months now. Ruby’s constantly moaning about how they can’t stay at her place because Granny’s got wolf hearing and they can’t go to Belle’s because it’s full of you. Trust me, Belle will be okay if you move out.” 

“Oh,” said Neal blankly. “Well. Fuck.” 

Emma looked around the room, at her current boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend and her ex-boyfriend’s new girlfriend who was also her current boyfriend’s ex… something, all of them in varying states of dishevelment, hangover, and undress, and she started to laugh. 

“Yeah,” she said. “That about sums it up.” 

-

So Emma never did quite figure out how it happened, but somehow she ended up with a home of her own in a fairy tale town with fairy tale friends and a pirate boyfriend, where one minute she was drinking coffee in a ship’s galley with a group of people who knew each other far too intimately for anyone’s comfort and the next her ex and his girlfriend were her neighbours and her pirate was living at her place for good—at their place, now—and her son was bouncing happily between the two apartments save at least one night a week that he spent at Regina’s. She and Neal co-parented better than she could ever have hoped, and every morning she woke up to blue eyes warm with love and lattes made precisely how she liked them. 

And, well. Emma’s happiness wasn’t tentative anymore. 

-

She was happy. Really happy. Truly happy. So happy that when she came home one evening to find the kitchen smoke alarm shrieking and Henry teetering on a stool waving a towel at it as Killian and Neal grappled with some foamy, hissing, smoking substance on the countertop, she wasn’t even mad. 

“What the hell do you idiots think you’re doing?” she demanded. 

“Ems!” 

“Mom!” 

“Swan!” 

“It’s not what it looks like!” they cried in unison. 

Emma shook her head. “I’m going next door,” she said. “To have a beer with Tink. This,” she gestured vaguely at the room, “had better be dealt with by the time I get back.” 

As she turned and headed back out the door, the last thing she heard were three furious voices. 

“Now look what you’ve done!”  

“What I’ve done! It was your idea!” 

“And I still don’t have a science project!” 

Emma grinned, and shut the door firmly behind her.

---

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @mariakov81 @stahlop @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @shireness-says @thesschesthair @courtorderedcake @everything-person @katie-dub 

[imherongraystairstrash]

Hello there you beautfiul blog user and writer! If you are open to accept prompts or to get ideas to future fics may I suggest a fic of lil Christopher Lightwood and when their parents found out he needed some glasses? I love how well you write him

Hello beautiful Anon!! Thank you so much for the request! It's called August for literally no reason whatsoever, btw. Anyway here’s little Kit getting his first pair of distance glasses (as a user of said glasses, I’m drawing from personal experiences).

August

Characters: Christopher Lightwood, Gabriel Lightwood & Cecily Lightwood/Herondale

...

“Good, Kit,” Gabriel said from where he was kneeling beside the small boy. 

His son smiled up at him with wide, blue eyes—that looked lilac purple in the sunlight—and put down his bow. “Did I get it in the centre?”

“Almo—” Gabriel furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean? Can’t you see the target?” 

Kit squinted his eyes. “A tiny bit. But I can’t see the arrow.”

Gabriel’s confusion grew. “Son,” he said, standing and walking a couple of metres away from where he was standing. “How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Three.”

Gabriel was indeed holding up three fingers. “Hm.” He said. “I guess you couldn’t possibly need new glasses.” 

Christopher shrugged. 

“Perhaps your current glasses are interfering. Here, take them off.”

Kit obliged. He looked at the arrow and fumbled with the string, trying to see where the arrow’s tail was. 

“Papa, I’m getting dizzy.” He said.

“Oh, then never mind, put them back on.” Gabriel said, quickly, not wanting Christopher to get a headache. 

Once Kit adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, both of them stood there, thinking about what they should do.

“Can we just continue training?” Kit asked.

“Yes,” Gabriel said, a relieved smile on his face.

…

“Are you teaching our five-year-old son how to shoot a bow and arrow?” Cecily asked from the doorway, a while later.

Gabriel glanced at her momentarily and nodded. 

Cecily leaned her hip against the doorframe and crossed her arms. “Is he good?”

“His form is exceptional, but he can’t seem to shoot it to the center.”

“Well,” Cecily said, walking inside and kneeling down beside her son. He did, in fact, have perfect form, something he somehow must have inherited from his father. “He doesn’t have to excel at it.” 

“Of course not.” Gabriel said. “I’m just confused.”

Kit shot the arrow and skipped over to the target. “It’s closer!” He said turning to his parents excitedly.

“Wonderfully done, Kit bach,” Cecily said, smiling widely. 

Gabriel sighed at how naturally Cecily could speak to their children and encourage them. Whenever he tried it, he felt awkward. Will sometimes teased him at times over how he couldn’t train children. Cecily told him to just treat them as though he were training adolescents or adults, that his children won’t think anything of him being less enthusiastic.

“Why is he walking up to the target?” Cecily asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“He says he can’t see it well.”

Cecily craned her head to look at him. “He probably needs glasses.”

“He already has glasses.” Gabriel pointed out.

“Other types of glasses, you nitwit. Ones for long distances. Didn’t that cross your mind?”

“It did! I even checked to see if he needed them.”

“How?”

“I held up some fingers and he could see them just fine.” Gabriel said, defensively.

Cecily gave him the you’re-a-fool face. “Of course he can bloody see your fingers! That’s not a proper test as to whether he can see or not!” she said, exasperated. 

“Then how do we test it?” Gabriel asked.

Cecily set Kit’s bow and took hold of his hand, pulling him along. “We leave it to the experts.”

…

He has Myopia as well as Hyperopia. I’d even say he is more nearsighted than farsighted.  

“What does that mean?” Gabriel whispered to Cecily.

“I don’t know,” Cecily mouthed.

Brother Jeremiah looked into Christopher’s eyes, and Gabriel had the urge to go to his son and spare him the sight. Christopher shifted from where he was sitting, trying to look at his parents. Jeremiah put a hand on his chin to keep his gaze on him, so that he could see his eyes better. Cecily took Gabriel’s hand as if to say, calm down; he’ll be alright.

Gabriel squeezed it back and watched as Jeremiah closed the lids of Kit’s eyes and hovered his fingers over them. 

He must have told Kit to open his eyes, because suddenly they flew open.

Gabriel didn’t understand the procedure The Brothers used for checking eyesight. All he knew was that after a while, Brother Jeremiah took Kit’s glasses and turned to Gabriel and Cecily, waiting for one of them to follow him.

Cecily used Gabriel’s knee to get up and went with Brother Jeremiah to get the glasses fixed while Gabriel stayed with Christopher. 

Gabriel walked over to his son and sat down next to him.

“Well, son, I’ll admit that I have no idea what’s wrong with your glasses.” He said with a half smile.

“I can’t see far away.” Kit said. “Myopia means my eyes are curved differently, so they can’t focus the light normally. So, I can’t see from far away as well as up close.”  

Gabriel turned to him, surprised. “How did you know that?”

“Uncle Henry explained it to me.” He said, shrugging. “I wanted to know why I needed glasses in the first place.”

Gabriel ruffled his hair. “You always know the right questions to ask, don’t you, ducks?”

He didn’t know how he ended up with a son like Christopher, who had such a sharp mind at so young. The reason as to why some people needed glasses had never crossed his mind, but Kit’s mind seemed to always be working, questioning why things and people were the way they were. Some people thought that Christopher was absent-minded, but Gabriel knew that it was because his brain was constantly working, not engaging in the current conversation, because it paled in comparison to what he was thinking about, or because there were too many things going on at once. 

He looked at his son, who was looking up at him with wide eyes and his head tilted to the side. He looked like his beautiful mother in that small gesture. 

“Can you even see me?” Gabriel asked, with a smile.

“Not really. You’re a little blurry.”

“Blurry.”

“A Papa-looking blur.”

Gabriel laughed out loud as Cecily came inside.

“We’re in luck,” She announced. “The Brother’s have temporary glasses with Christopher’s exact prescription that he can use while his are being fixed.” She came over with said glasses and carefully put them on Kit.

They immediately slipped down his nose. 

“I think they’re a bit too big.” Gabriel said.

“Well, it’s that or he doesn’t see.” Cecily said, laughing.

…

“Do you like Kit’s temporary glasses, Cecy?” Gabriel asked, knowing perfectly well that she adored them.

“He is the most adorable little thing that’s walked the planet.” Cecily said, glancing at Christopher, who was lagging a bit behind them, staring at the witchlight stones as they passed by them, walking out of the Basilias. 

“Enjoy it while you can,” Gabriel said, opening the doors for the others to go out, “next week he gets his actual glasses back.”

“Don’t remind me,” Cecily said mournfully.

Gabriel held out his hand for Christopher to take, and was surprised when he didn’t take it.

Gabriel looked down and realized that he wasn’t even there. “Kit?” he asked. 

Cecily and Gabriel both stopped and turned around. Christopher stood frozen a couple of steps behind them, his jaw hanging open as he stared up at the trees. 

“What’s the matter, Kit?” Cecily asked.

“I can see each individual leaf.” He mumbled. “If I wanted to, I could count them all!” He looked up at his mother with a huge grin on his face. 

Cecily had always had a soft spot for her son, but with the oversized frames on his small head, the bridge slipping down his nose occasionally, Cecily felt her heart melting. 

“You could,” she said, holding out a hand for him to take. “But then you’d miss all of the other beautiful things you can now see.”

Christopher took her hand, casting a long look at the tree before following her. 

There was a slight skip to his step as he looked around, taking in the world, his gaze always returning to the trees, which seemed to be the most fascinating revelation. 

“Are you going to go back home and practice archery with your father?” Cecily asked.

Kit nodded happily. 

Cecily didn’t think Gabriel really understood that Kit only really liked archery because it was time he could spend with his father. He was always nervous in anything that had to do with fatherhood, terrified that he’d end up like Benedict. 

Cecily had told him time and time again that his children will love him unconditionally, unless he gave them reason not to, but she also knew that it was hard for Gabriel. His relationship with his father was a mixture of love and abuse, the line between the two becoming so unnoticeable, that Gabriel had a hard time telling the difference. 

Cecily had faith in him, however. Especially as she looked at Gabriel and Kit in front of her, the latter sitting on the former’s shoulders, taking his glasses on and off, comparing the way he could see without glasses and the way he could see with them on. 

Christopher turned around. “Mama, I can see the entire world!” He held his arms out wide, a wide grin on his face, as though he were presenting its beauty.

Cecily laughed and put a hand on his back, “Yes, bach, the world is a beautiful place, isn’t it?” She looked at Gabriel. He took her hand, kissing the back of it and let their interlaced hands swing between them as they walked back home.

...

Tagging: @tsccreatorsnet  @atla-lok143  @rinadragomir  @youngreckless  @autumnangel20  @julemmaes  @cupcakesandkittens  @no-scones-allowed  @fictionally-fantastic  @stxr-thxif  @writeforjordelia  @itsdaughterofthemoon  @jordeliasupremacy  @cordelia-cardale  @will-effing-herondale  @axoloteca  @heronstairs2014  @ilovemanicures  

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[keanureevesisbae]

hi there and welcome to my little cafe. here you can find all the information about my writings. if something is unclear, please don't be shy and send me a message.

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｡･:*˚:✧｡ about requests

my requests are closed. however, if you have something in mind after reading a fic of mine, you can send me an ask and i will post them and maybe write a little something something for it.

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｡･:*˚:✧｡ about the characters

i mostly write stories with original female characters and these ofc's are all asian. i try to have some diversity in these characters, because there are a lot of different types of asians.

please note that just because i write asian ofc's, it is not limited for asians to read. years have gone by where i read about readers/ofc's with very eurocentric traits, however that never stopped me from reading it. if you broaden your horizon, an entire new literary world will open for you.

the one shots i write with a reader are all female, however i try to be as inclusive as possible, unless stated otherwise.

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｡･:*˚:✧｡ who i write/have written for

➻ keanu reeves | john wick |

➻ henry cavill | august walker | walter marshall | captain syverson

➻ chris evans

➻ marvel characters such as bucky barnes | sam wilson | peter parker

➻ one chicago charachters such as antonio dawson | peter mills |

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｡･:*˚:✧｡ from the author to the reader

like any other author on this platform, we love comments and reblogs. while likes are okay, all we want is interaction about the stories we have created. however, i understand it can be a little daunting to actually write down what you thought about the story. believe me, i know, i was a lurking reader once.

but remember you can always send me a message (anonymous or not) or a dm. i love to talk about my stories and the characters i created. i write for free, but the best form of payment is in sweet and kind words.

please note: i love comments and sweet messages. if you have some feedback or if you think i have written something incorrectly (i'm a human being and while i do my research, i get it wrong sometimes), you can always tell me that, but if you do so, please be mindful of your tone.

if you do not like or appreciate what i write, there is a very simple thing for you to do and that is to exit the story and not look at it again. go write your own story and post it on here. i do not appreciate nor tolerate hateful comments on my stories or about me.

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© all works posted on this blog belong to me and all rights are reserved by me. i do not give permission to repost or plagiarize my works. i work very hard on the characters i create, so if you plagiarize (therefore steal) my work, it affects me deeply.

[paradisetemporarilymisplaced]

Book recs: Similar to but less sad than TSOA

Hello everyone! @lordeteams requested some book recommendations that are not as sad as The Song of Achilles so here we go. I read a lot of books and since 2019 I've kept a running list of what I've read so honestly I'll take any excuse to subject people to my interests🤗 List is below the cut, not in any particular order (except from the first entry which is my current favorite), and includes NA, YA, and adult fiction. If you're curious about the distinction I'll refer you to this (sadly, now-deleted) tweet from Maggie Stiefvater:

One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston, NA): This one is brand new and instantly became a favorite. F/F romance in which August Landry, newly transplanted to Brooklyn, meets Jane Su on her morning commute. Turns out, Jane is stuck on the train and has been since the 70s, but has no memory of how it happened or of her old life. Part romance, part time-travel mystery, but entirely a love letter to queer communities everywhere. Found family trope abounds with August's roommates and coworkers, which include drag queens, people of every flavor of queer, and a real life psychic, all of whom are ready and willing to help solve the mystery of why Jane is on the train and how to fix it. In the process, August learns things about her own family, as well as events in American queer history that few people remember today. I really cannot express enough how much I love this book. Please read it.

Red, White, and Royal Blue (Casey McQuiston, NA): Odds are, if you've heard of Casey McQuiston, it was because of her first book (this one). M/M romance about Alex, son of the first female US President, and Henry, prince of England. Enemies to friends to lovers, featuring queer self-discovery, coming out, PR/corporate closeting (hello, larries!) and just a delight. This is a very different queer story from OLS - OLS is a romance, but more plot-heavy and the romance isn't the entire focus. In RWRB, the romance is the plot and it reads like fanfiction which is very fun.

The Raven Cycle (series, Maggie Stiefvater, YA): This series is a character-driven, coming-of-age, found family story about a bunch of weird-ass teenagers (affectionate), magic, prophecy, and Welsh kings. This is the rare story in which every single main character plays a critical role in the plot and grows and changes with the story. You will fall in love with all of them and their relationships with one another. Plus, the worldbuilding is incredible and has such an intricate mythology that you'll want to reread just to get the details. Followed by the Dreamer Trilogy, of which two books have been published, but I've only read the first one so far.

All for the Game (series, Nora Sakavic, YA): This is the series that got me back into reading for fun five years ago and as such it holds a special place in my heart. The plot is wacky and convoluted - college athletics, a made-up sport, a kid on the run from his mob boss father - but don't let that discourage you. Hella found family. (Are you seeing a pattern?) I will warn you, this deals with some pretty heavy stuff, including torture, abuse, addiction, sexual violence, and more. Here's a comprehensive list of trigger warnings, with detailed descriptions at the bottom. It's intense, but the friendships and romances make it worth the read imo.

Grishaverse (series, Leigh Bardugo, YA): This is actually three series: the Shadow and Bone trilogy, the Six of Crows duology, and the King of Scars duology (which I haven't yet read). If you've seen Shadow and Bone, the S&B trilogy covers the Alina storyline, while SOC covers Kaz, Inej, Jesper, Nina, and Matthias. S&B is a chosen one/coming of age story, while SOC is found family committing heists. It's great.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Saenz, YA): Coming of age M/M romance. Set in the 1980s in El Paso, it describes the friends to lovers journey of Ari and Dante over several years, as well as Ari's journey of self-discovery. It is the most beautiful book and one of my comfort reads. There's some themes of homophobia and violence, but with a happy ending.

Carry On (Rainbow Rowell, YA): This is basically Harry Potter fanfiction, but better because (a) it doesn't take itself too seriously and (b) the author is not a violent transphobe. Seriously, this book is so fun. It's a twist on the chosen one trope because Simon, said Chosen One, is just spectacularly bad at what he is supposedly destined to be. Plus you have an enemies to lovers storyline, which is my personal favorite trope. Followed by Wayward Son, which is literally a road trip AU, and Any Way the Wind Blows, which will be released next month.

The Queen's Thief (series, Megan Whalen Turner, YA): Fantasy series centered on Eugenides, who is very proud of being a great thief but also wants to be famous, two goals which are not really compatible. This series is interesting because every novel is told from a different character's point of view in an increasingly zoomed-out lens such that you're seeing how Eugenides' influence grows over time and space. The setting is vaguely based on the ancient Mediterranean region, but with a mythology all its own.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo (Taylor Jenkins Reid, adult): This is a frame story in which aged Hollywood star Evelyn Hugo, famously tight-lipped about her personal life, hand selects a young journalist, Monique Grant, to finally tell her story. Evelyn tells Monique all about her life - how she became an actress in the mid-twentieth century, how she got involved (and uninvolved) with all seven of her former husbands, and who was the true love of her life. There are some sad moments for sure, as it's a retrospective on the very long and very full life of an actress at what she knows is the end of hers. But it's such a good story and worth the bittersweet tones.

This Is How You Lose the Time War (Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone, adult): Sci-fi novel told by Red and Blue's letters to one another across time and space. They are on opposing sides of the Time War and as they perform their respective missions, they leave letters for the other to find. Their letters start out as "I'm coming for you, you better run" but then eventually turn to friendship and then love. Ultimate enemies to lovers. It's a short novel but you'll read it again and again to pick up more details. It's so good.

The House in the Cerulean Sea (TJ Klune, NA): This book feels like a warm hug. Linus Baker is essentially a child protective services worker, overseeing the orphanages housing magical children. He is then assigned to the most remote orphanage in the system, in which six dangerous children reside, to determine whether any or all of these children are capable of bringing about the end of the world. Once more, with feeling: FOUND FAMILY. Also nice because it's a metaphor for queerness that also features canon queer characters.

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC Review: Heartbreaker by Sarah MacLean

4/5. Releases August 23.

Five years ago, Adelaide Frampton (born Addie Turnbull) was nearly forced into a marriage she didn't want by her crime boss father. She was given an out by the mysterious Duchess, ringleader of the Helle's Belles, and has since devoted her cunning (and pickpocket skills) to helping other young women out of situations like the one she was in. She's the mysterious Matchbreaker, enabling women to break free from engagements they don't want.

The Duke of Clayborn, on the other hand, is everything Addie seemingly stands against--uptight, living a life of a cold perfection, and dominating. The Duke didn't expect to end up chasing someone his care across Great Britain; and he certainly didn't expect Addie to be working with him.

As the two struggle to work together (and deal with the issue of there being only--one--bed) Clayborn must question what he stands for... And Adelaide must question if she's ready to trust.

Okay! I'm excited to talk about this one. Sarah MacLean is one of those authors where, even if I feel like she could do better on some novels... A Sarah MacLean "good" is another author's "great" in many cases. She's consistent, she's got a fun and intelligent perspective, her books are hot, and her characters are my kind of people. Also, she's just a talented writer.

I say that because while I liked and would recommend Bombshell, the first book in her Helle's Belles series, I wouldn't say that it was a favorite of mine. It's fun, adventurous, satisfying, and it even has some important things to say--but it felt like a "first book" in a series. It was setting up a lot, introducing many new people, and very much a foundation for the rest of the series. I think you could say something similar about Wicked and The Wallflower, the beginning of her Bareknuckle Bastards trilogy. Conversely, I found the beginners of her previous series quite strong (among her strongest). But both Bareknuckle and Helle's Belles are kind of built on a heavier, more intersecting mythology, right? Wicked and Bombshell had more weight to bear.

With all that being said, Heartbreaker doesn't feel any of that weight at all. It's got emotion, don't get me wrong; both Adelaide and Clayborn (Henry) have their childhood traumas, especially surrounding their fathers. But it's also a very romantic, very fun, and ultimately very sweet romance. Sweet... but not like, closed door sweet. Not at all.

In fact, I will say that Heartbreaker is one of Sarah MacLean's hottest books yet. A lot hotter, in my opinion, than Bombshell--and that book was about a heroine gossiped about for her promiscuity. Addie is a bit on the quiet side as a heroine; and Clayborn is very much a rigid, stern brunch daddy hero. But when I say Sarah MacLean is into writing dirty talk, she isn't writing dirty talk--and once he gets going, he! Is! GOING! This dude was like... another thing entirely. He's like, pulling her hair and noticing that she likes it and calling her a good girl and there may or may not be some truly excellent facesitting.

But there is also a story! There is also a romance. Clayborn is stern, but I wouldn't say that he's one of the more aggressive MacLean heroes... Conversely, I wouldn't say he's one of her softest, either. He's a 2022 Alpha, where he'll smack your ass (maybe) and tell you to come to daddy--but he's not going to like, kidnap you or anything (... unless you ask for it). Personally, I loved him. Clayborn would like, campaign to uphold Roe v. Wade but he'd also be like "you sit back with the womenfolk while I handle this threat", and I'm deeply into that. He can throw a punch, but he can also do that cool little cufflink adjustment gentlemen do. He'll be like "FAMILY. DUTY. HONOR." but he'll also be like "LISTEN BABY I LOVE YOU AND I DON'T CARE IF THE WORLD KNOWS IT!!!" A truly dramatic, endearing, and fine as fuck man. I'm a man.

Adelaide was the kind of quieter heroine that I haven't seen MacLean do in a while. Her previous few heroines, Sesily, Grace, and Hattie were all kind of bold and brash and vivacious. While Addie is certainly aware of her value and her skill as a thief, she's also trained herself to go unnoticed, and to appreciate that ability. Nonetheless, she clearly WANTS to be seen by some--mainly Clayborn. Her reliance on her talent for slipping into a crowd is reflective of the emotional walls she's put up since essentially abandoning her life to break free from her father's control. It's quite lovely on a literary level, and it gives us a heroine who isn't a bombshell, quite--but she's also not a mouse. She's more mysterious than she is nondescript, more withholding than she is insecure. That doesn't mean Addie isn't human--but in a lot of ways, I think that she's the less emotionally accessible person in this couple. Typically, that would make Clayborn a cinnamon roll hero for her--but I wouldn't call him a cinnamon roll at all. He may not be an old school alpha, but he's not a cinnamon roll (and thank God for that). To me, MacLean has done a great job in presenting the idea that you can have a hero written for 2022 readers who hasn't lost his edge, and that's important. He doesn't have to be dumbed down to make Adelaide seem stronger or more independent; she doesn't need that. He complements her perfectly.

It's not a perfect book. There is a plot happening, though I wouldn't say that it's necessarily as twisty and turny as that of Bombshell, and I don't know that it's merged into the romance as well as what you might find in some of MacLean's earlier works. However, I don't think that super matters. You're really here for the road trip romance, and it's a great road trip romance. There is... one thing that keeps this from being a 4./5 out of 5 for me. One character thing that nagged me towards the very end. However, it's over pretty quickly (which kind of makes me feel like it could have been edited out) and it doesn't take away from the overall enjoyment factor.

To me, this is a very classic Sarah MacLean book. It feels more like some of her earlier books than Bombshell or, to be honest, any of the Bareknuckle Bastards books--not that the change was a bad thing. Daring and The Duke is one of my favorite MacLeans. But if you're someone who wants a somewhat simpler, more straightforward book with a lot of adventure, emotional moments, and really hot sex--this is the one for you. I wholeheartedly recommend it.

I received this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.