#anyway like i said i hope to post a lot of gifsets this month while i'm on vacation

[jungkookverse]

Yoongi's beautiful hands (cr. elleRKIVE)

#btsedit #btsgif #usersky #dailybts #dailybangtan #userbangtan #yoongi #suga #agust d #bangtan #my gif #yg gif #d day tour seoul #seoul d1 #concert #his hands😵‍💫 #i'm baaaaack... again lmao #and reposting this bc it looked so colorless it was making me weep #anyway like i said i hope to post a lot of gifsets this month while i'm on vacation

[aaronstveit]

Hello! First I wanted to say I love all your creations! I’m always curious about people’s creative process but I rarely ask them about it, I hope you don’t mind me bothering you with this ??! Do you make a list of sets/ideas and follow them or? You make a lot of sets, and all of them are so good, I wish I had this level of excellence and dedication in me. Also, do you ever gif something that isn’t very popular but you were really excited to gif it and looking forward to people seeing it and it just... flops? It’s been happening to me lately and I feel so stupid for keep creating only for myself... :( I know tumblr has been like this for a while, but I feel like the people who used to be interested in my creations aren’t anymore, and it honestly depresses me because it’s where I put my energy and creativity, you know? Anyway, keep creating, your sets make me smile❣️✨💌

hi anon !!!! first of all, thank you so so much for your kind words, you are such an angel !! you have made my entire day 💖 and i do not mind you asking at all, you're never bothering me!!

my creative process is probably a bit ~ chaotic ~ compared to others, but i don't mind sharing!! i very rarely make a list of sets i want to make. generally i get an idea and then it just sticks in my brain until i make it (this applies to every area of my life, not just giffing — if i think of something i want to write, or watch, or if i suddenly remember i have to vacuum, or if i think about cutting my hair, i literally can't stop thinking about it till i go through with it). a lot of my sets depend on what i've been watching recently; for instance, the now you see me gifset that i posted today was made in january after i watched that movie for the first time. also, i do post a lot of sets, but for the record, i do not make a set every day 😭 last year & the year before i had a habit of making sets and then leaving them in my drafts forever instead of posting them like a normal person, and eventually i ended up with nearly 100 sets in my drafts and i finally began queueing them to get them out into the world. because of that, i have been working through posting a backlog of edits for several months and i probably always will be 😭 so i have one gifset scheduled to post every day at the same time, and usually whatever set is posted was made a month or two before posting. right now i have an edit scheduled for every day up until april 9, so even if i go a week without making a single gif, i'm still way ahead of schedule. i just wanna explain that so nobody feels bad abt how long it takes them to make a set when i'm posting one every single day without fail — this is just the result of poor planning on my part, basically !!

also, yes, i have absolutely been there re: sets you love flopping :( i don't think any of my most recent sets have even cleared 100 notes which can be super discouraging. please don't feel stupid though, there is absolutely nothing wrong with creating for yourself. that's the main person you should be creating for! i know we all want people to love the things we make, and there is nothing wrong with that. but at the end of the day, the only person who truly needs to love what you've made is yourself. if you love something and you want to make a gifset or an edit for it, if you want to draw for it, or write for it, or even just talk about it, you should. even if your audience is just yourself. you should do what makes you happy! that's what tumblr & fandom are about! i know that for myself, when i stopped waiting for outside validation and just created for myself, that's when i became a lot happier with my experience on this website. that's a lot easier said than done, and there is truly nothing wrong with liking validation. but you can't let it be everything, you know?

i'm sending you lots and lots of love, anon. i hope you find more joy in your fandom experience soon 💖 i am always around to chat and you are always welcome to tag my in your creations 💛✨

#<3333 #thank you !!! #answered #love letters only💛 #anonymous

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Hello! If you don't mind me asking, are you planning on watching House of the Dragon? I'm personally unsure about it. I was cautiously optimistic about it since D&D are not involved, but the recent casting news have been ugh disappointing imo. What do you think?

Hey anon! Sorry to say I kind of mind you asking because my inbox is still closed (to everyone except my secret Santas, which is why the ask page is accessible at all), but then I realized it’s possible if you’re on the mobile app only, you haven’t seen said note in my askbox, or my FAQ, or anything of the sort. And with older metas of mine being reblogged recently, it’s possible you may be confused. (I hope you’re on mobile only and not just ignoring my requests.) So I wanted to inform you of that... but also, y’know, I kind of wanted to make a post about the HotD cast anyway? And this ask is as good a prompt as any... so, you’re lucky, but please don’t push your luck. ;)

So, straight up: I currently have no plans to watch House of the Dragon. HBO is not getting any of my goddamn money, I don’t trust like that. And hunting down illegal livestreaming sites is a pain in the ass and I regret ever doing it for GoT, as well as regretting getting drunk every weekend enough to dampen my senses to ever tolerate that show. Yeah it’s different showrunners and writers, I know. It’s still (mostly) the same executives at HBO and even if the pervert producer is gone (or is he?), you know they still just want to sell sex and violence and dragons to an audience that thinks fantasy is for geeks.

Also, considering that Fire & Blood’s story of Dance of the Dragons has very little actual narrative or dialogue, and the historical record is deliberately untrustworthy, that gives them pretty much full rein to do whatever they like with the story and characterization and words without even being slightly obliged to GRRM at all. Furthermore, since the story is wholly political with virtually none of the magical side of ASOIAF (excepting dragons), and honestly does not have much in the way of themes or depth that main ASOIAF or even D&E has, I think it will be very hard for an adaptation to show even those brief sparks of quality that used to make me wistful GoT couldn’t be that good all the time and eventually just made me frustrated and depressed. Note I do like the history and characters of the Dance despite myself, despite its many many many textual issues, but I don’t need to see an adaptation, I have a very visual imagination. I don’t watch a lot of television to begin with, I don’t see why I should start again with this.

However, I’m not going to avoid spoilers or discussion, and I’ll probably follow the show the tumblr way, through gifsets and video clips and people bitching on their blogs etc. If, somehow, by some miracle of good screenwriting and acting, the show manages to transcend its source material, I’m sure I will be informed. And then, if and only if then, I may try watching. (Without, of course, giving HBO any of my goddamn money.) We shall see.

(Though I certainly don’t know why anyone in Targ standom would ever watch a Dance adaptation considering almost every Targaryen and everyone else in the story is terrible except Helaena and the kids, and considering how the story ends, unless y’all are gluttons for punishment? (I do not comprehend hatewatching, sorry.) It’ll probably be fun at first to see the adventures of those “precious silver douchebags” (to borrow a friend’s tag), but eventually rocks fall, everyone dies, including the girlboss you know you’ll hope the story will be changed enough that she succeeds. Just letting you know now, she won’t.)

That said. I’ve been following the casting news and I think the hate/fear/wild screaming is entirely overblown. Yeah, I know, but wait, just listen. On Friday I officially welcomed @naomimakesart to the “favorite character is now played by an actor who looks nothing like most fanart and is mostly known for wildly different roles” club. I still remember that day in September 2009 when my brother texted me “yarp”... and that right there is the thing. Yeah. Rory McCann looks very little like most pre-GoT Sandor fanart... but many fans grew to love him anyway. (There are some who never did, of course. And yeah the character went off the rails by the end, but truly, who didn’t. Having seen his audition, having spoken to him and heard him wistfully talk about book scenes he loved, I’m convinced if Rory had only been given Sandor’s actual scenes and such, he would’ve killed it. Sigh. Deep, deep sigh.)

And Rory isn’t the only one. Neither of the actors for Jaime and Cersei were considered “beautiful” enough at first. I recall very clearly people bitching about Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (about his nose particularly?) because they had wanted Tarzan-era Travis Fimmel to be Jaime. (Seeing people bitch because current-Fimmel isn’t playing Daemon made me laugh out loud for both BEYONCE?! meme -type “why would you ever cast him omg he doesn’t fit my headcanon Daemon at all”, and amazing amounts of fandom flashbacks.) Lena Headey was “too square-jawed”, “too mean-looking” (since at the beginning you should never be able to guess she’s evil), “too dark-complected”, “too mannish”, not at all attractive enough. (Tricia Helfer was the most common “but I wanted” for Cersei, btw.) And of course “they don’t remotely look like twins, ugh!” Note, there’s receipts for all of this, none of it is made up. (Unfortunately.) Those two actors are just the ones whose casting wank I recall most clearly, particularly because oh how the turn tables.

Also. You know, there’s a post with Matt Smith and Mark Simonetti’s TWOIAF Daemon going around with shrieks of horror... and I’m finding it maddening in a “am I crazy? am I  the crazy one???” way, because Matt looks like the painting. Their features are not that dissimilar.

Same deepset eyes. Same cheekbones of doom. Same thin lips. Same protruding chin. Same high forehead. Same invsible eyebrows ffs. Matt has a squarer jaw, and a longer more rectangular face, and a wider nose, but considering that Daemon’s features are not described in the text, and this is the only official ASOIAF artwork that shows Daemon’s face straight on, I can for sure see why he was probably shortlisted to begin with. And that’s not even getting into to his role in The Crown, which I’ve heard is very well played with politics and palace intrigue... and if you doubt Smith can play seductive/roguish and/or evil (depending on how you LARP as a Westeros historian), or look good with long hair... well. I do not want to watch the movie, but this trailer is disturbingly enlightening.

And as for Rhaenyra... y’all know this show is starting at the beginning of the story, right? When she’s a teenager? Not a voluptuous MILF? Yeah, Emma D’Arcy doesn’t look like a Magali Villeneueve painting (though who does, good lord), but you know who she does look remarkably like? Harry Lloyd.

Same jawline. Same nose. Same thin lips. Same sharp cheekbones. Notably, same kind of sharp cheekbones and deep-set eyes as Matt Smith. HBO evidently has a concept of a “Targaryen look” that’s a little bit quirkier than supermodel-Greek statue-gods on earth, yeah, fine. But it’s consistent, and they look like family, and that-- that is good casting.

And yeah, in a few months to a year or so, you’ll see them in costume and wigs and makeup, you’ll see them in motion and speaking lines, and go Oh. That’s different. Never mind. And while people will make fanart of the show depictions of the characters and those will probalby get popular, they’ll also keep doing fanart of their pre-show headcanons, and those too will be popular. (God knows when I draw or visualize book!Sandor, Rory does not come to mind, lol.) Either way, there’s no reason to panic. We’ll live.

(Though will we live well? Got to wait on the writing and showrunning for that, alas.)

#asoiaf #house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #matt smith #emma d'arcy #sandor clegane #rory mccann #jaime lannister #nikolaj coster waldau #cersei lannister #lena headey #casting #fire and blood #the dance of the dragons #house targaryen #oh fandom #how the turn tables #i am not the crazy one #rocks fall! everyone dies! #anonymous asks #edit note: also if the rumors of doing a racebent casting of the velaryons are true i think that's awesome

[the-littlefangirl]

TFATWS episode 1 rewatch commentary

The first scene was so beautiful. I loved that we didn't start directly with the fight sequence. It feels way closer to the quiet beginning of CATWS and I love it so much.

The title is also SO NEAT, music's on point too but hey it’s Henry Jackman the one thing I’m sure it’s going to be great overall is the score.

The choreography is AMAZING, really well shot. Sam shielding himself with only one wing was MA-JES-TIC.

“WHAT'S UP” EXACTLY SAM EXACTLY

I did feel so uncomfortable in regards to the military aspect of it. Not that I was expecting anything else, but both here and in Captain Marvel the military we're good guys < 3 propaganda is so blatant and ugh:/ At least there wasn’t a literal recruitment spot like with CM. 

The yellow filter in the Tunisia scene BYE please stop with the yellow filters 2k21

"I've been working with the Air Force for six months now" So, did Sam even catch a break at all after Endgame? Or did he just throw himself to work like SOMEONE did after being iced for 70 years. Hmmm? Sam????

"Essentially, these people, they want a world that's unified without borders" OH NO! HOW AWFUL, how evil of these bad guys smh

Joaquin: SO about Steve

Sam: :)))))) nope

"Moon stuff" SAAAM

#1 cry with Sam's speech, full on chills.. Fuck. Me. His voice about to break before saying thank you bYE.

Shady politician: "It was the right decision" (FUCKKKKK YOUUU)

Rhodey: *press any key to doubt *

I need someone to analyze the different curation of the two exhibits pretty please

NOT THE PHOTO POST-AZZANO JFC. That photo is my weakness, Bucky sweetie (also I find hilarious that usually when there are articles about Stucky and/or #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend they aaaalways use that photo LMAO)

In case someone wants to read the transcription of the texts about Bucky: "In 1944, while on a mission to thwart a Hydra weapon transport in the Alps, Barnes was thrown from a train and believed to have been killed in action. It wasn't until 2014, over seventy years later, that it was revealed that Barnes was alive, having been found by Hydra operatives. Captain America himself (i can't read) the effort to bring Barnes in only to later aid in a escape from custody having been convinced of his innocence. Steve's loyalty to his old friend, coupled with his refusal to sign the Sokovia Accords, led to the dissolution of the Avengers and drove the Captain into hiding with other like-minded Avengers including Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, and Sam Wilson. The current whereabouts of Barnes remains unknown, habing been labeled a fugitive following his escape from custody."

"current wherabout unknown" but not the government, interesting. Also, pretty good summary of CACW from the public's perspective, although one of the things I always wanted to see explored was the public's reaction of the fallout of them going into hiding after Civil War (which I'm hoping we'll get to see a little bit of in Black Widow).

Interesting point about the 70 years without having Captain America. Clearly the sacrifice play wasn't enough this time to fuel the nationalism so they went with a squeaky clean John Walker instead.

Sam saying the shield belongs to Steve I'm going to cry now excuse me. Sam. Sam sweetie.

The No. 1 Captain America comic in the display ugH fuck yes

See this is how you do a cameo that has actual meaning. Thank god for Malcolm Spellman being a competent writer. That scene was so well written.

HAVE YOU PRAISED ANTHONY MACKIE'S PERFORMANCE TODAY?? Holy shit that last shot fucked me up.

I'm loving the use of the wide shots, especially in the flashback. The camera movements are in synch with The Soldier's state of mind and mission focus, so good.

EVERYONE STAND UP FOR THE NATIONAL ANTHEM aka The Winter Soldier theme composed by Henry Jackman.

Without a doubt the most brutal TWS fight scene there has been, People involved in Punisher and John Wick are involved in this and it SHOWS. 

For the record, still stands that the only time we've seen him chocking someone with his right hand instead of the metal arm remains the Maria Stark assasination. I know it's probably because of blocking and the way the shot was composed but the implications are still bone chilling. God.

Uhhmmmm I'm very ambivalent about the "Hail Hydra". On one hand, it was 100% fanservice and the internet is probably going to go insane over it, and the dead way Sebastian Stan delivered the line. Good shit. Buuut what I love about CATWS is the way Bucky never, ever ever, mouths Hydra rethoric, and even when Pierce tries to gaslight him with it, it's just an empty effort. The Winter Soldier isn't doing anything because of ideological loyalty to Hydra, even if it's product of brainwashing, it's just sheer dehumanization. They don’t need him to say the words because he’s just An Asset. There are people who have put it more eloquently but yeah, I rather go with the fanon interpretation of that aspect.

The music growing louder with the shot of the keys. GOD.

I'm fine this is fine.

#2 cry with the therapy scene of fucking course.

The government monitoring Bucky is noooot going to end well lmao.

"We need to know that you're not gonna * slowmo stabbing motions *

Bucky: * nodding along slowly * 

I laughed out loud.

"It's passive agressive" I love him.

The way this scene just sucker punched me in the face, made me weep and then had me cracking up. Amazing.

Therapist: You can't do anything illegal

Bucky: yup yup check checkity check. What IS considered illegal tho?

*aggresive tablet finger pressing *

"Then why isn't it rule number one?" Bucky your Steve is showing.

I love the close up shot. I'll keep saying it. It's so good.

"I'm James Bucky Barnes" yeah you are🥺

That smile is nightmare fuel LMFAO I love it.

Uhm the way I'm kinning Bucky it's not funny anymore damn

That whole “are you lashing out at me” rambling is really reminiscent of the bar scene in CATFA and how he lashed out at Steve after Peggy left. Uhm yeah fuck.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" "Peace"

"That is UTTER BULLSHIT" "You're a terrible shrink"

yeah ugly crying to ugly laughing speedrun for me

"You're free" "To do what?" jesus. That entire scene. #3 and #4 and #5 cries for moi.

Ugh that Brooklyn shot. Someone needs to do a gifset compairing it to the one in CATFA asap.

"It's like Monique but it's got a "U" in there for uniqueness" "That's absurd" LMAO

"You can't keep fighting with your neighbors" uHM * redacted redacted i'm shifting into 1940s mode abort abort *

"Nobody passed 90" "So young. Such a shame" FGADHGA

🥺🥺 yes flex those flirting skills good for you

"It's a dance to this things. You can't… you gotta warm up and I haven't danced since 1943. Feels like." #6 cry I completely broke down into tears with that.

This Yori storyline is going to punch me in the face with a metal fist. Great!

The TWS theme when he looks at Yori fuuuuuck.

GREAT LET'S GO TO LOUISIANA THAT WAS GETTING HEAVY.

Those shots of Sam in the car. Immaculate. Showstoping. Yes.

Marvel, what if instead of promoting the military industrial complex you put a lot of publicity about cars?

"Uncle Sam!" LMAO subtle.

Everyone trying to have the wings lmao same.

I've only had Sarah for a day but etc. Brooklyn 99 meme

Good mirroring about Steve and Sam family's legacy. Good shit. Goooood shit.

Sam is trying so hard ouch my heart. I can't imagine how painful the scene with them reuniting must have been. He 100% still feels a lot of guilt about being gone for those 5 years (and even longer before that).

"Maybe it is time for us to move on" uuuuuuuuuuh

"To the rescue" "Always" 🥺🥺 i love them so much already

That shot outside the restaurant is so beautiful. Can't wait to see the night scenes in Madripoor tbh.

"I tried the whole online dating thing. It's pretty crazy". Uhm well that is something that Bucky Barnes has now said. In canon. Damn.

"It's a lot" "You sound like my dad" LMAO

Every Bucky fanfic trope speedrun with this scene

"Wow you really can drink" OH you have no idea

Just realized we don't even know her name, well.

"You have any siblings?" "I have a sister" THE WAY I SCREECHED. We're definitely getting Becca

Well that escalated quickly. The important thing is to try?

I can't deal with this BUCKY SWEETIE #8 cry right there fuck

The wardrobe department is KILLING IT, there's such a difference between the outfits of the shows vs how ugly and generic it usually is.

"ThEre is NO such thiNg as on time. You're either EARLY or LATE . picK One" lmao the way he delivered that line

At first I thought the flag smashers had thrown two cars out of a window LMAO

"I don't know how jurisdiction works here, but I'mma have to place you under arrest" uhm yikes. The way they changed Joaquín Torres backstory to just random army nice guy #1 is not sitting well with me, what can I say.

Sam's wings motions I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR

Fuuuuck this guy.

"Funny how thing's always thighten around us" "Look, I'm on your side. After all, he's a hero". This script is C R I S P as hell, great fucking job.

"I don't care, I'm not gonna quit" "What are you trying to prove? And who you trying to prove it to" SHIT HSIT SHIT!!! UGH amazing. Look it's not necessary to say the show's questions out loud but how they flow between the conversations is still very satisfactory without feeling in your face about it. Inner conflicts have been set up fucking perfectly everyone * claps *

Ugh here we fucking go.  I knew this was how the episode was going to end but my stomach still dropped like a rollercoster. God.

The score is on point. Damn. Damn.

God, Sam.🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

The captain america franchise's visuals in the credits are always so amazing.

Also, does anybody know why Mackie isn't first in the billing?  Uhm what's that about?

ANYWAY CONCLUSION THAT EPISODE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD LIKE HOLY SHIT. I love them so much. The balance between the personal conflicts and the political aspect (although the military aspect is still very much yikes) was on point and it was overall a joy to watch.

#tfatws #tfatws spoilers #i'm so happy rn #sorry for the ramblings i just wanted to have it all written down #sam wilson #bucky barnes #captain america #tfatws commentary

[sunsetcurve]

so...the last year has been rough. for everyone. but i’ve been lucky in a lot of ways, especially with the people in my life, and i wanted to take a second to thank some people on here. because genuinely, you guys mean so freaking much to me. i’ve had a lot of online friends in my life but none that feel so much like family. these are the people who have carried me through the last year, who’ve made me feel seen and heard and supported me in all my endeavors and just been wonderful to me all around. i love you guys, and happy new year <3

i’m about to get into it now. and i’ll try not to cry too much along the way.

@neshatriumphs​ nesha, when i say that you’re our fandom mom i mean that you’re my family, i mean that you’re my biggest supporter, my inspiration, my rock, the person who makes me want to be my best self, all the time. i can’t explain to you what your support has meant to me over the years. whether it’s leaving me incredibly kind notes on my fics that make me want to write more just for you, or sending me asks when you know i’m feeling down, or just making me laugh with your hilarious takes, you have always, always been there for me. you’re the toughest person i know and you make me want to keep pushing every day. you’re so incredibly talented; your ideas are just always stunning and inspired and despite being humble about it you’re amazing at everything you do. your art, your writing, your aesthetics, all of it. loeg and share-a-lair were just spectacular and such a show of how complex and original and smart your writing is. barring just your talent you’re also an inspiration in how passionate and kind and dedicated you are. you care for others everywhere you go. you come on here and constantly make me want to be a better person. it’s not just me, either—you’ve taken on the role of helping all of us in any way you can, and you just make us feel loved and supported and give us someone to always look up to. i love you. plain and simple, you’re my family, and i’m so, so grateful to have you in my life.

@juliesdahlias​ you know when you meet someone younger than you and you’re like how do they have this much talent in their body? and you can’t even be mad about it because you just want to root for them and you want good things for them and you think of them like a little sibling? that’s me around you all. the freaking. time. pearl, i’m constantly blown away by how smart and driven and passionate you are. you have so much talent to offer the world and i love seeing you thrive more than anything. you inspire me every freaking day; i mean, your tiara thief drabbles literally made me pull my fic out of my drafts for the first time in months. every time you post it’s something iconic and beautiful, whether its your fics or your edits or your headcanons. and not just that, but you’re so incredibly supportive of everything i put out there. like with ths, the way you latched on to it and are one of our biggest fans and made content for it literally as soon as we started!! that was amazing!! you’re just such an incredible person in every sense of the word; you’re talented and hilarious and kind and passionate and i love you so so much. i cannot wait to watch you do amazing things because i know you’re gonna be one of the greats. ily. 

@ciara-knightly i can’t even put this into words. i’m sitting here trying to say it right and every time i start i just turn into “!!!!!!!!” cause i love you so much. i know i’ve said this before, but shona, you’re honestly like my older sister. this whole year of just, really getting to talk to you beyond tumblr has shown me how honestly kind, passionate, smart, and supportive you are. talking to you is one of my favorite things in the world, whether it’s rambling about tiara thief, or discussing feminism in media, or just getting life advice. you always know what to say to lead me in the right direction and reassure me that things are gonna be okay. i look up to you more than i can tell you; i’m constantly inspired by your talent and your drive. you’re endlessly supportive and you make me laugh all the time, and i hold literally every convo we have close to my chest because it means so much to me to just be able to have them with you. i’ll never be over the fact that you basically discovered jatp, or us talking and making predictions for weeks before it aired, or us plotting out the whole dystopia novel together—which, even though it didn’t really pan out, was such an amazing experience because i got to do it with you. and i absolutely scroll back through our convos on a regular basis to scream over our tiara thief headcanons. everything i’ve done with you has been incredibly fun and meaningful, so what i’m trying to say in this very long winded way is that i’m so, so glad i know you, and i can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. 

@bitchmilsky lizzie, i literally think of you like you’re my little sibling. my weird, crazy, hilarious, incredibly kind and supportive and creative and amazing little sibling. ever since i met you you’ve been nothing but fun and friendly and wonderful to me. your posts never fail to make me laugh and i love seeing whatever you’re up to, even if it’s video games that i understand nothing about. you have so many fun ideas and you’re so freely yourself, it’s honestly inspiring. the things you make are always adorable and every time we go live together and chat i always have so much fun, and talking and i just want to meet you in person so badly because i know we’d be an amazing, unstoppable duo and that you’d make me laugh until my sides hurt. i’m still waiting on that cross-country road trip. we could roll the windows down and belt our way through the entire hd musical soundtrack, and it would be epic. for real, though, you’re one of my favorite people ever, and i hope this year brings you nothing but fun and good things because that’s what you deserve. i’m sending you a million virtual hugs and also booty shorts that say poggers on the ass. i love you <3

@zackmartn i know i’m gonna start crying right now because i love you so much and i’m trying not to because i just did my makeup but dammit, nikki, i just love you so much. i remember when i first came on here and was afraid to talk to you because i was like “ohmygod she’s so cool she’s the king of this fandom she’s amazing” but i thank god that you reached out to me every day. i honestly can’t imagine my life without you; you’ve been such a presence in it for so long that you’re inseparable from it. even the times i’ve gone on hiatus i’ve been stalking your blog from a distance like “i just wanna know what she’s up to...”. you’re honestly like an older sister to me and you’re one of the people i admire the most; you’ve been through and continue to go through so much and yet every day you come on here and decide to be a freaking light to all of us, to make me smile, to support me literally endlessly. like, the amount of times you’ve driven me to near tears from your reviews of my writing is ridiculous. the freaking umana fan club?? the way ths is one of your top tags??? it’s just...insane and such a show of how boundless your support is. and that’s not even getting into how freaking talented you are!!! i stare at your gifsets all the time!! and your fics like....holy shit you literally created this whole universe that i’m so freaking invested in and is better than literally anything that canon could ever do, and i know i’m honestly terrible at responding to messages but i hope you know you never have to start holding back with me. most of the time when i get stuff you send i have to sit there and get my thoughts together and that takes forever, but i love love love reading it anyway. the way you get excited about the things you love is everything, it’s something that i really really love about you, and i hope you continue to keep that passion and love for everything. and i hope that this year brings you nothing but good things, because you deserve that more than anyone. i love you. 

@willexs eliza, babe, i know we joke all the time that we were put on opposite sides of the ocean because we’d be too powerful if we were together but i really think it’s true. imagine us meeting. the universe just wouldn’t be able to handle it; it would implode. listen, you’re literally like my twin, my other half. we have so much in common that it’s honestly ridiculous. we operate on the same brainwave, and every time we talk i’m blown away by how easy it is and i honestly love it so much because i could not have picked a more talented and creative and fun person to work with. writing ths with you has literally been like...one of my favorite writing experiences ever. i can’t believe that it started on such a whim because it’s such an important part of my life now and getting to have you next to me while we figure this whole thing out is honestly the best part. it’s not just all the characters and dynamics we’ve created, it’s the fact that i can send you incoherent ramblings at ungodly hours and you’ll pick them apart, it’s the 3-hour phone calls to make playlists, it’s you always making me feel heard and inspiring me. it’s this like...excitement of building towards something amazing with someone i love. you understand me on this crazy and fundamental level, and sometimes it blows my mind how similar we are and how well you know me without us having even met. i feel like we’re the embodiment of “nobody gets me like you”. and i know i’ve said this before, but i really do think you make me a better writer. i love how you make me laugh, i love that you always have the best takes and i love how talented you are with your incredible adorable art and your fics and your gorgeous edits and i love that we egg each other on and hype each other up. i love that, despite being on opposite sides of the ocean, we’re still best friends. and i love you <3

​@cactus-con lou!!!!!! i literally just...ahh i love you so much!! i know i’ve said this before but you were the first person i talked to in this fandom, and you made me feel so freaking welcome. and that has never changed. talking to you is so easy and natural, and you make me feel loved and heard all the time. i love getting to share stuff with you because you always always always hype me up. not just that but like...your talent?? literally unmatched!!! you’re amazing at everything you do it’s ridiculous. i love love love all your artwork, i could stare at it literally all day. you have so much talent and i literally cannot wait to watch you do such great things with it. i just...you’re such a wonderful person to everyone around you. you spread all this love and support and kindness and i think you’re one of the most genuine people i know and i’m so so glad i know you. i hope this year treats you so well because you deserve nothing but good things. i love you. <3

@owenjoyners where do i even start?? brooke, you’re like my other twin. i know i’ve said this before but it’s literally insane to me that we’ve known each other for less than a year because it feels like i’ve known you my whole life. you are such an incredible freaking person. you’re funny and you’re kind and you’re talented and you make me smile every damn day. i love getting post notifs from you because i swear to god i light up every time. your gifsets are always gorgeous, and i’ve watched you learn and improve and you’ve gotten so good, it makes me so happy every time. your art??? you say you’re just starting out but i can’t even tell you how much i love it. your fics!!! you’re good at everything and it’s honestly ridiculous. and it’s not even about your consistently amazing posts, i also just...i love talking to you more than anything, even if we’re just simping over owen together. you make me laugh all the time and you always hype me up; you’ve let me ramble about my fics and helped me get my ideas together, you’ve talked stupid life stuff like school and college with me, and you’ve given me someone to go to whenever i need it. i think of you as one of my best friends and i can’t get over how fast we clicked or how easy it is to talk to you. i need you to come visit me so i can give you so many hugs and we can have a sleepover and talk for literally hours on end. in the meantime, we need to call again sometime because that was honestly so much fun. i love you with all my heart. 

and some people i want to say thank you to, because even though we don’t talk as often as i’d like you’re still amazing, and you make me smile all the time, and i love seeing you on my dash or in my notes: @taylorswiftrulestheworld @onplanetmars @dr-rigatoni @swellviews-finest @symphonic-concert @molinasmercer

#nikki tag! 💛 #lizzie tag! 💜 #nobody gets me like you tag ❣️ #nesha tag! 💟 #brooke tag! 💙 #lou tag! 💚 #shona tag! 🌟 #heather tag! #otter tag! #jamie tag! #k tag! #faith tag! #monisha tag! #pearl tag! 💖

[suspiciouslyrics]

creator tag game

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

----

I was tagged by @larrybaits thank you!! 🥺💫🌿 i really didn't think i'd some day be a gifmaker in this fandom since i just lurked for so long but it's been fun so far 😌

I made/posted my first 1d gifset in july this year, so i only have 5 months of creations to choose from but okey let's see:

Beautiful war cover: this entire song had SUCH a strong red hue because of the lightning that it was tricky to correct but i think i did well, i really like how it ended up looking and i'm obsessed with the moment in the last gif when louis blends in with the mic stand (wanting to gif that is how this set started)

Golden mv: i finished this after midnight when i had been working on it for way too long, i was kinda blind to it and couldn't really tell how the colors looked and how the gifs worked together, but i posted it, went to bed and hoped for the best hdjdjd. Then i looked at it again the next day and was like 'okay yeah this actually does look good', it's probs one of my best colorings i've ever made ngl

Golden x eroda: water, some nice lyrics and some yellow, can't go wrong?? 👀 This was after a sudden inspiration hit and while the gifs were done quickly i did play around with the colors and the font a lot, i like how rich the blue looks and the ~vibes~ it has

MTV interview throwback: this was the first time i started to play around with the hue/saturation layer and i'm not sure how i managed to use PS for almost two years before i realized how effective and fun this layer is (someone in the tags said it reminded them of a lesbian flag and while not my intention, they are right and should say it)

The weekend throwdown throwback: it's a simple gifset and that's why i love it, i wouldn't change anything in the coloring if i remade them now (which is an unusual feeling hdjdjdkd) I really like louis' haircut here, and the oversized sweater and just generally how laidback this interview was. But my favorite thing is how i changed the green wall in the back to grey and it gave this set such a soft vibe imo

Honorable mentions:

Copy of a copy of a copy: my most popular set, probably memorized the lyrics while making this

Harry's hands: i mean hands??? and rings??? wheew, a quick set but i really like it

Lights up rainbow edit: i'm not actually sure why i don't love this much, i like it allright but it wouldn't reach the top5 BUT it's the most gifs i've ever posted on one set and took me an entire evening, so yeah i think it deserves a mention anyway

Popbuzz throwback: .......i mean.... I couldn't not include this

Louis in a yellow shirt sitting on a table: idk i just think it was sexi of me to have this as my first 1d gifset (okay it's just one gif posted twice but yeah, it's on brand)

I'm not sure how this became a 5 + another 5 thing???? But for once before this damned year ends i will honk my own horn ok 😌📯

#tagged #me: i'm nots sure if there's 5 worth mentioning #also me: okay how about 10 favorites??? #so yeah #i need to follow more people coz rn i have like 3 1d mutuals and never know who to tag in these things hdjdkdkd #also i don't like the font for ants coz it's so 🔎 small 🔍 #but this got so long i was like okey maybe it won't look as much if i just make it smaller hdjdkdkk

[highkingfen]

You are so “positive fake”. You say you understand why people are mad yet never address the lgbtqia problem. No wonder since you aren’t in the community anyway. Stop pretending things are perfect your the reason the fandom is bad right now, it’s ok for us to be mad and hate the author. Fuck your fake happiness. Hope you stay in your depression until you realize what you do is wrong

Alright, It took me a moment to answer this because the last sentence you said just broke my heart. Whatever our opinions are, wishing someone to stay in illness is just pure cruelty. We may agree to disagree, but this is going way too far and I think most of my friends here and irl would tell you the same. Please ask yourself why you needed to end your message that way.

Second, this is not fake positive. If you read my blog, you’ll see I post sad things to, I just actively decided not to engage in the fandom debate because I have a different opinion, and also because I don’t think adding my voice will bring something to the conversation. I do talk actively about the season 4 finale, just in private. 

In fact, today I will record a special episode of my podcast Fillorians United with Vanessa Zoltan from Harry Potter and the sacred text and one of our point of discussion will be how to conciliate your love of something while having a problematic author (for her, it is JK latest tweets). I wanted to bring that into the fandom later and hope this will make people heal a bit more. That’s my way of taking care of the fandom. Vanessa is really insightful and her word in private helped me feel better about how I handle The Magicians content, when I will publish the mini-episode, please listen to it. 

Third, I am not vocal about it but I AM in the LGBTQIA+ community. I am a biromantic asexual who is married to a bisexual transgender man. I do not see my sexual identity as my identity as some member of the community may have (i.e my husband is strong in Montreal Queer community and needed to find others like him, I do not carry that wish but respect his and, by being with him, meet a lot of people in the community as well.) I DO understand what you are going through. I DO read a lot about it. But does this mean your voice is more valid than mine?I don’t think so. I think the internet and this fandom is big enough for people to be mad and express it and have people that don’t feel as strongly as you and still want to enjoy doing gifset and writing fics without making it political. Both are ok. I hate seeing people getting angry at actors or lashing at the on twitter like they had a saying in what happened. 

People forgot that most of them learn the true finale 2 days before us and that their job is to act. If they defend the show they are in, most of it is because this is their secure job and they fight for it to stay alive. You don’t like this? Then stop watching instead of being mad at people that are simply the tools of what writers wrote. 

I also want to make a note for anyone that, as someone who studied Public Relation during a crisis, I would have recommended to Sera and John not to talk anymore because whatever they do or say will never be good enough for part of the fandom. Better for them not being attacked for everything they tweet and focusing on their job. They are in a hurricane and, right now, I don’t blame them to need to be in their safe house. When the storm will be calmer, I would tell them to go back on twitter. But right now, whatever they say will not be enough and will just put oil on fire. This is why I do not resent their silence. Even if I wish they’d talk, I understand why they don’t.

Also anon, all of The Magicians isnt hurt and hating the show now. I want to show you how amazing this fandom is

Because of the fandom, my 2nd edition of The Magicians DND book on Kickstarter is 130% funded and If I get 1500$ will be able to afford to take off work for a whole month and work on it, but even if I get 3 weeks it is because fans were willing to give me a bit of their money to say “hey, what you do is cool and I want to encourage you.” In my wildest dream, I’d never believed this could happen. 

I see people doing cosplays and getting ready for ComicCon, encouraging each other, screaming when they see pictures. And I am here for it. I went in so many fandom that was taking apart everything a cosplayer didn’t do instead of adoring the hard work people put into it

There is AT LEAST 5 lets-keep-busy-during-the-hiatus project happening! From The Welter Challenge to a Big Bang to a Queliot or an Alice week! It is WONDERFUL to see that despite it all, some of us stay and don’t want the hiatus to means nothing happens here

people are SO fucking creative! I can’t keep up to ao3 anymore which is AMAZING! When I arrived in the fandom there were 15 fics at most. I see people doing pins and shirt and prints and fan art and gifset and analyzing the clothing and their meaning and I’m just....!!!! I think something becomes meaningful and bigger than itself the moment it makes people create. 

The fact that, while I write this, I have several tweets telling me that I am loved, defended and 98% of people here do not tolerate bullies. We do not gatekeep your ship, or your notp, or if you only participate by reblogging and not doing new stuff. A fan is a fan. But what we gatekeep is hate, is attacking people because you want them to feel as bad as you, is wishing someone depression

See. I was positive. Yet I didn’t talk about the season finale. Because there is 3 season and a half that I FUCKING adore, people that are worth praising and I decided to focus on that. 

Lastly, my choice to be positive is harder than it looks. Sometimes I want to scream too. Or reblog rants. But I try to spin this into my creations and another way to make people smile, feel a bit better and heal. I said it and I will repeat it again, I started to adore Fen when I realized she made the choice of kindness.  And you see her struggle in season 3 because part of her want to cross her arm and let the bad things happen. But Julia reminds her, and me, that hurting doesn’t mean other people are hurt too,

This is why I will finish this with a word of wisdom; If the show hurt you so much that you want to hurt back, maybe its time for you to step away from the fandom for a moment, and ask yourself if it is worth making someone cry while being anonymously mean. 

#the magicians #A bunny Asked!

[thiswomanshouldbewriting]

Holding on and Letting Go

This is my @rumbellebigbang fic, and damn was it hard to write. I never would have made it without my amazing beta @galactic-pirates and my partner @desperatemurph who made this awesome gifset. 

I am posting the whole story on tumblr but you can also find it here on Ao3.

Summary: On a night like any other, Belle French comes home tired from work, and wants nothing more than a good night of rest. Someone, however, shows up at her door: it's Gideon, the son she gave up for adoption thirteen years before. Shocked but also overjoyed, Belle hopes to finally get a place in her estranged son's life. His adoptive father, however, is incredibly protective of him; will she manage to convince Mr Gold that she's not a threat, just a mother that had to make a terrible choice?

Belle kicked her shoes off as she entered her apartment, unceremoniously dropping her purse to the floor next to them. Being tidy was a problem for tomorrow Belle; right now, even the thought of having to change into her pajamas felt like too much work.

She was contemplating whether it would be really awful to sleep in the clothes she’d worn at work when the doorbell rang. She couldn’t think of anyone she knew who could be looking for her at this late hour, and her mind immediately provided her with a number of scenarios involving serial killers. Through the peephole she saw a nervous-looking boy on the other side of the door. He didn’t exactly look threatening, so she resolved to open the door, but she was ready to close it at the first sign of danger.

“Who are you?” she asked, looking at the boy more closely and trying to remember if she had seen him before. He did look oddly familiar now that she thought of it. 

“Are you Belle French?” he asked instead of answering. 

“I asked you first, but I’ll let this slide because it’s written on the doorbell anyway. Yes, I am Belle French,” she answered, eyeing him curiously. 

“My name is Gideon Gold. I’m your son,” he said simply, flashing her a little smile.

His words seemed to take forever to register in Belle’s brain, as all the memories that she had tried to suppress for over a decade came back with a vengeance, hitting her with the force of a truck. 

“No. No you can’t be,” she contested weakly, but she very well knew he could.

“Didn’t you give a baby up for adoption on February 12th thirteen years ago?” Gideon asked her, clearly knowing what her answer would be. 

Belle just couldn’t find the strength to say yes. Instead, she took a step back and motioned Gideon to follow her inside. 

“I need a cup of coffee, do you want something?” she said as a starter, busying herself at the kitchen counter so that she could keep her back turned to him; she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes.

“Could I get something to eat instead? I didn’t finish my dinner and walked a long way to come here,” he asked, and out of the corner of her eye Belle could see that he had already claimed her armchair as his, looking so at home in her house that it hurt. She opened the fridge, looking for something to make a sandwich with. 

“Why are you here at two in the morning? Where are your parents?” she asked, trying to bring her mind back to the present and away from dangerous could-have-beens. She just hoped Gideon didn’t notice the slight tremble in her voice. 

“I found out you lived here months ago. I just never had the courage to come here until now. Bad timing, I know, but I simply felt like it today,” he said, then quickly added: “Did you read all the books in that bookcase? Some of them are my favorites!”

“Look, I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not an idiot. Either you tell me what’s going on or I call the cops,” Belle said, suddenly finding the courage to turn around and stare him down. 

“If you do, I’ll tell them you kidnapped me,” Gideon replied without missing a beat.

“And they’ll believe you because I’m your birthmother. You’re clever, I’ll give you that,” Belle said, feeling a foolish surge of pride for the kid that she couldn’t and shouldn’t consider her son. “I still need to know what happened though. Unless you plan on escaping abroad, your parents will find you sooner rather than later, and I’ll be in trouble anyway. As you can see, I have very little to lose, so you’d better start talking.”

“Ok, fine,” Gideon groaned eventually. “I argued with my mom’s boyfriend because his idea of ‘bonding time’ is badmouthing my father all the time. My adoptive mother got mad and kicked me out of the house mid-dinner, so I walked over here and waited for you to get back.”

“She kicked you out of the house for that?” Belle asked, trying to control the anger in her voice. She knew she was hardly in a position to judge when she had kicked Gideon out of her entire life, but at least she had known her son would be taken care of. Kicking him out with only the clothes on his back was downright cruel.

“Yes, well, it’s not like she enjoys having me around that much. I’m pretty sure I’m mostly an annoyance to her,” Gideon said bitterly. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. She adopted you, she wanted you, and I’m sure she still does. Maybe she doesn’t always make the right choices, but I’m sure she loves you,” Belle said, laying the plate with sandwiches next to Gideon and taking one of his hands in hers. It had been so long since she’d last held him, and all she wanted to do was to cry, but she had to be strong for him, at least this time around. She owed him that much. 

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her,” Gideon muttered, not looking Belle in the eyes. “But thanks anyway.” He grabbed one of the sandwiches then, and silence fell over them as he ate. 

“So, you mentioned your father. Why didn’t you call him?” Belle asked after a while.

“I didn’t have my phone,” Gideon answered with a shrug.

“And you couldn’t have borrowed someone else’s? I’m sure many people would have been ready to help a lost boy. Or maybe you could have stayed at a friend’s house. Why come here of all places?” Belle inquired. She didn’t want him to feel under interrogation, but she needed to know what was going on. 

“Look, I didn’t want to go to my father or to a friend’s house. I just wanted to come here, okay?” Gideon bit back, hurt creeping in his voice. 

Belle sighed, taking a long moment to evaluate her next action.

“Gideon, I don’t want you to think that I’m unhappy you’re here. I’m confused and shocked and sorry for what I put you through, but I’m happy I finally get to see you again,” she started off, trying once again to keep her voice level as she treaded such dangerous ground. “But I can’t truly enjoy this moment if I know your parents are worried sick about you. I know this feels a lot easier to you, but spending time with me will only make things more complicated when your parents eventually find you. How do you think they’ll feel when they find out you came to me?”

Gideon looked away from her, the pout on his face making him look even younger. 

“I don’t care. My adoptive mother doesn’t really care about me, why shouldn’t I at least have you?” he grumbled.

Belle sighed. Gideon was hurting, and he had turned to her with all the spite and desperation that only a teen could have. He needed affection, but he also wanted to punish his mother, maybe to make her jealous. Maybe Belle was only the means to that end, and deep down she really didn’t know how that thought made her feel. Being all but used by her son and then forgotten would be hell - which she totally deserved - but a sincere affection might be even worse. Would his parents even allow her back in her son’s life, or would she have to let him go a second time? And if they tried to bond but Gideon found her sorely lacking, would her heart be strong enough to handle that rejection?

“Of course you can have me,” Belle said, her treacherous heart singing at the prospect. “But please, please call your family before I truly get arrested for kidnapping. Maybe you could call one of your grandparents? Mine were always ready to forgive me for anything, and they’d talk my parents into forgiving me as well. Here, you can use my phone,”

Gideon pondered her words for a few seconds, taking her phone in his hands.

“Maybe… maybe I could call my brother. He won’t tell dad where I am if I ask him not to. I can have him tell mom and dad that I’m fine, so they won’t worry. Can I… can I spend the night here if I do this?” Gideon asked, his big hazel eyes shining with hope.

Belle knew that it was nearly impossible that his parents would be happy not knowing where he was spending the night, but how could she refuse Gideon when he so clearly needed to feel that an adult was on his side? 

“Okay, but put the phone on speaker, I want to make sure you are not just pretending to call. I’m truly risking prison here,” Belle warned him. 

Gideon had barely started dialing the number when the doorbell rang. 

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked, even though he had the feeling he knew exactly who was pounding on the door like crazy. 

“Miss French, I have already called the police,” a man hollered from outside. “Open this door now or I swear I’ll have it brought down. And if you have hurt even a single hair on Gideon’s head I promise you’ll regret having ever been born!”

Belle felt the sudden, irrational instinct to run away, the same visceral fear she’d felt when labor began and she realized there was no escaping the pain. She forced herself to step towards the door on legs that felt like lead, wondering if Gideon’s father would give her time to explain herself or if he’d have her taken to jail straight away. 

Surprisingly, he didn’t do either of those things. The moment she opened the door, he sprinted past her as if she didn’t even exist, running to his son and wrapping him in a bone-crushing hug. Belle looked away from them, and found herself facing two other men, one of whom was a policeman. 

“Don’t worry about Officer Graham. I couldn’t convince my father to come here without the police, but as long as Gideon is fine - and I’m sure he is - we won’t press charges or anything,” the younger man said, offering his hand for her to shake. “I’m Neal, by the way, Gideon’s brother.”

He was smiling at her, albeit a little awkwardly, and that made her feel a bit better. 

“He just showed up at my door, I swear I didn’t contact him first. I was about to make him call you. I’m truly sorry for this mess, you must have been worried sick,” she apologized, focusing on Neal because she still couldn’t find the courage to look at Gideon’s father. Judging from the rage in his voice as he knocked on her door, she had the feeling he was far less chill about this than his son. 

“I have no doubt about it. Gideon had told me he was looking for you, so when he went missing I knew exactly where to look,” Neal explained. 

“Couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut? I was fine, and I would have let you know!” Gideon complained, slipping away from his father’s arms. 

“No, you shut up. You made dad completely freak out. We had to ask Dove to drive us here because dad was so nervous that he couldn’t even keep the steering wheel straight. What were you even thinking?”

There was a flash of guilt in Gideon’s eyes, but whatever he was about to say was cut short when his father stepped between him and Neal.

“We clearly have a lot to discuss, but we’ll have plenty of time for that when we get back home. I’m sure Miss French has better things to do than listen to our family drama, and we’ve already bothered her enough,” Gold said.

He barely deigned her a glance but, when he did, Belle wished he hadn’t. He stared at her as if she were a speck of dirt on his polished shoes, his gaze filled with hostility like she had seldom known, a mixture of hatred and disgust she only remembered seeing in her father’s eyes.

“It’s no matter, really. I just wanted to help Gideon,” she said somewhat awkwardly.

“Well, clearly your help isn’t needed anymore,” Gold said, his voice cutting as steel. “We’ll be on our way now.”

Neal flashed her an apologetic smile as they exited the apartment, and Gideon lingered for a quick surprise hug. Belle could feel Gold’s eyes burning into her as she tentatively wrapped her arms around her son, but she was ready to fight his rage for Gideon. He didn’t say anything though, and soon enough she was shutting the door behind them. After the turmoil of the past half-hour, her home felt eerily quiet now. She started pacing around, tidying up the place to give herself something to do and restrain from thinking about how much it had hurt to watch Gideon walk away. Sleeping would have helped her, but even though she was exhausted her brain was fully awake. When, over an hour later, she got into her bed, she kept tossing and turning as memories and nightmares blurred together in a constant cycle of dozing off and waking up with tears in her eyes. 

Her sleep was too light and restless to keep her from hearing her phone buzzing in the early hours of the morning. The lack of sleep was making her feel light-headed, so it took her a few seconds to focus on the words contained in the message, which was from a number she didn’t recognize. 

‘We just got home. Dad was mad af and spent the entire trip scolding me, but he has calmed down now, and I’m not even grounded! He’s incredibly pissed at mom though, and now they’re fighting on the phone. Thank you for today, I hope you don’t mind I got your number when I took your phone. Love, Gideon.’

If she had been less sleepy, Belle would have taken some time to consider the implications of every possible answer she could send him. Instead, with her heart hammering in her chest, she quickly wrote the words that she felt were the truest. 

‘I’m glad you’re okay, and I don’t mind about the number at all. I’m always here if you need me. Love, Belle.’

She laid back on her bed, clutching her phone to her chest, giddy and heartbroken all at once. It was only when her alarm went off two hours later that she realized that, after Gideon’s message, she had finally managed to sleep. 

Throughout the following days, Gideon kept messaging her with alarming regularity. He told her about how his day had been and asked about hers, he complained about how silly his brother became whenever a certain Emma was involved, and showered her with his thoughts about pretty much every fantasy saga he had been able to put his hands on. Belle liked to think that his love for books came from her, and the thought warmed her from the inside. His messages, however, worried her just as much as they rejoiced her. She truly wanted to be close to Gideon, yet she worried that she was only making things worse for him, teaching him to keep secrets from his parents and undermining their authority in her selfish desire to fix her past failings.

After a few days of furious debating with herself, she eventually resolved to ask for a friend’s help. There were very few people who knew she had given her son up for adoption, and she had cut them all out of her life, for good reason. This meant that if she wanted someone’s advice, she’d need to come clean about her past first. 

Ariel had a daughter of her own, so she was the only one of her friends who could speak from experience, but that also meant that she would truly understand the gravity of what Belle had done. By talking to her, Belle could jeopardize the life she had built for herself; if Ariel recoiled from her, if she called her a monster and told all their friends just what kind of woman she was, Belle really wouldn’t be able to blame her, but she’d also need to move again, just like she’d done as soon as she’d finished high school. Her own guilt was heavy enough to bear; she couldn’t live with other people’s judgment as well.

They met that afternoon, and Belle’s voice trembled as she started telling her story, but her friend proved more than worthy of her trust. Ariel let Belle talk without interrupting, and if there was a flicker of shock or horror in her eyes she did her best to hide it. When the tale was finally over, and Belle felt like she’d just run a marathon, the first thing Ariel did was hug her. 

“I’m so sorry. You deserved better, both you and your son,” she said, holding her so tightly that it almost hurt. It was exactly what Belle had needed, and she had to take a few deep breaths to keep from sobbing in relief. 

“I gave him up for that, to offer him something better, but now I’m not sure of what that is anymore,” she admitted. 

Ariel pulled back, but kept a strong hold of her hands, a reminder that she was not going to leave her. “I will be honest with you, Belle: if I were Gideon’s adoptive mother, I’d want to know that you’re in contact with him. The more you drag this on secretly, the more suspicious your behavior looks.”

“And what if his parents forbid him to talk to me again?”

“It’s a possibility, I can’t deny that, but Gideon cares about you and he has already shown just how determined he is to have a relationship with you again. You can’t expect his parents to be happy that he’s looking for another parent, but as wary or unhappy as they might be, they should let you see him for Gideon’s sake. Your son made the first step, Belle, but now it’s up to you to make sure that you go about this the right way.”

As much as it scared Belle to admit it, Ariel was right. Somehow, she had to work up the courage to speak to Gideon’s parents, starting with his father. She was pretty sure the man hated her, yet he was the one Gideon was closer to. Besides, she was still mad at his mother for kicking him out of the house, and she wasn’t sure she could hold a whole conversation with her without bringing that up. Gideon wasn’t all that happy when she mentioned her intentions to him, because he too was afraid that his father would try to put an end to their newfound relationship. He even went so far as to call her for the first time, but Belle, just like she’d done on the night he’d come looking for her, gradually managed to convince him, and soon enough she had Gold’s phone number registered. All she had to do now was find the courage to actually call him. She stared at her phone screen for what felt like hours, and eventually chickened out by telling herself that it was too late to call him anyway, and that he’d probably be pissed if she called him now. 

She stalled as long as she could the following morning, but way too soon she was ready to start the day and make that phonecall. Holding her breath, she pressed the ‘call’ button and waited. It took Gold a while to pick up, so much that she had been about to hang up when he finally did. 

“Ah, good morning, is this Mr Gold?” she stammered, her throat feeling as dry as sandpaper. 

“Yes. Who am I talking to?”

“I know this might be surprising, but I’m Belle French and I’m…” she started, only to be harshly cut off.

“I know exactly who you are, and this is why I suggest you hang up right now and delete this number, unless you want to find yourself in serious trouble,” he hissed at her. The rage and disgust in his voice made her want to cry, but Belle knew that, with Gideon’s happiness at stake, she couldn’t afford to have a breakdown. 

“Gideon and I have been messaging ever since he came looking for me,” she said quickly, before Gold could decide to hang up himself. “He took my number when I told him to call you. I wanted you to know.”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a while. Right when Belle was starting to think he might have hung up on her after all, Gold’s ice-cold voice reached her ears again. 

“And you’ve called so I can make it stop? You’ve realized teens are still as much work as newborns, but that it’s so much harder to shut the door in their face when they’re old enough to realize it?”

His assumptions were so absurdly wrong that, for a moment, Belle couldn’t find the words to reply. “No, no, how can you think I… you got it all wrong,” she explained hastily, horrified by the image Gold clearly had of her. “I don’t want you to put an end to this, I would never ask you to. I’m actually calling for the opposite reason; I want this to go on, but I don’t want to do this behind your back. I don’t want Gideon to lie to you. I know you have every reason to be wary of me, but I really want nothing more than to make Gideon happy, and I hope I can prove that to you.”

“I believe this is something we should discuss in person. I can drive to Boston and be there early in the afternoon,” he said, and Belle didn’t know if she should be happy that he wasn’t flat-out telling her no, or worried that he hadn’t said yes. 

“I’m afraid I’ll be at work then. Could we do next Monday instead? And I could be the one to drive over, I don’t want to inconvenience you more than necessary.”

“No, I’m driving over to you,” he insisted, his tone admitting no protest. “I’ll be there on Monday in the early afternoon. I’d be glad if you didn’t tell Gideon about this meeting before Monday, I’d rather not have him worrying about what we might or might not tell each other.”

His voice, that had been cold and distant throughout the whole exchange, seemed to warm up a little as he mentioned Gideon, and that gave Belle hope. He truly loved her… well, his son, so why should he keep Gideon from his birthmother if that connection was important to him? 

That thought kept her company throughout the following days, helping ease her nervousness at the upcoming meeting, but by Monday morning she was a nervous wreck nonetheless. She woke up unbelievably early, and started making rounds of her apartment - which she had spent the entire week cleaning and tidying up - to make sure that everything was truly spotless. Still with plenty of time to spare before Gold’s arrival, she took extra care in her outfit and make up; she only had this one shot at impressing him, and everything had to be perfect. She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell finally rang. She took a deep breath, trying and failing to calm herself, then opened the door. 

Gold gave her a cold nod, then strolled in as if he owned the place. Judging from his tailored suit and from what Gideon had told her, he could probably afford to. During their first meeting she had been so nervous that she had somehow failed to notice he used a cane, but even that couldn’t make him look any less intimidating.

“Would you…” she started off awkwardly, then paused to clear her throat. “Would you like something to drink?” she tried again, her voice sounding a little more confident this time.

“Miss French, we both know I’m not here for a drink or for small talk. I’m here to know what you want, and I don’t like wasting my time,” he replied drily.

Under his scrutiny, Belle felt nearly paralyzed, but she pushed that feeling down, focusing solely on the thought of Gideon and drawing strength from that. She straightened her back and stared at Gold with all the determination she was capable of.

“I want a place in Gideon’s life, as long as he wants me to have it. I gave up my parental rights fourteen years ago and I know that there’s no changing that, that I’m not legally his parent anymore, but he came looking for me, and I want to be able to be as close to him as a friend would. I want to be able to call him and message him and just be by his side if he needs me. Please give me this chance.”

She had rehearsed this request a billion times in her mind, and all things considered she was satisfied with the result; her voice had sounded polite but firm, and she had made her intentions pretty clear while also reassuring Gold that she wasn’t trying to replace him or his ex-wife. She was expecting to see some kind of reaction in him, a sign of acceptance or denial, but his expression remained stressfully blank as he pondered her words. He was looking at her strangely, as if he were trying to see through her.

“So I’m guessing there’s no amount of money that could persuade you to disappear again?” he asked eventually.

For a moment, Belle was so shocked that she believed she’d misheard. He couldn’t be trying to do this, not really.

“I’m sorry?” was all she managed to say, part of her nervousness disappearing in the face of her mounting disdain. 

“You see, you wouldn’t be the first to try this trick. Birthparents reappear, they play nice for a while, and when the adoptive parents start feeling threatened by their presence they ask for a nice check in exchange for their absence. Or maybe you just realized that you’d be better off financially if you tagged along with my family, and are willing to put up with Gideon for that. If that’s the case, I’d rather pay you now than let Gideon get attached and then suffer when you reveal yourself for who you truly are. Name a sum, and we’ll have a deal,” he explained, his eyes still fixed on her, careful to catch her reaction. He really shouldn’t have bothered; even a blind man would have noticed the shock and horror in her expression. 

“I’m not that kind of person. I don’t care who you are or how big of a sum you can give me. The life I have I built it myself, with no help, and I certainly don’t need yours now. I want what I couldn’t have thirteen years ago: I want my son.”

Belle was almost surprised by the resolution in her voice, but she barely had time to revel in her newfound determination, because Gold’s scowl suddenly deepened. 

“That’s where you’re wrong. He’s not your son, not anymore, as even you have pointed out,” he hissed, looking so threatening that Belle was tempted to take a step back. “He’s mine, and so far you’ve given precious little reason for me to let you anywhere near him again. You say you have good intentions, but your actions say the contrary. You’re the one who tossed him away and never looked back. You’re the one that’s causing him to lie and run away, all things he had never done before. Maybe you don’t want money, and maybe you think you want to be a mother, but how do I know you won’t just play the part of the cool parent for a while and disappear the moment things get rough? You’ve done it before, after all, and I won’t let Gideon be hurt again.” 

At some point during his rant, something inside of Belle snapped. His accusations, so wrong yet so similar to the voices she heard in her nightmares, brought out feelings she had barely known were simmering inside of her. When thinking of what she’d done, she was used to shame and guilt, but this time all she felt was rage. Rage at life, at how stupid she’d been, and more than anything at all those people who - just like Gold - thought they knew everything, when they understood nothing.

“How dare you?” she asked him, taking one step forward so that they were almost face to face. “How dare you make assumptions about me when you know nothing. You don’t know what it was like. You don’t know how hard it was for me. You have no idea of what it is like to hold your son, that you love more than anything, and then hand him over to a stranger because you can’t take care of him. You don’t know. Years ago I let other people force me to walk out of his life, but this time is different. If you want to keep me away from Gideon you’ll have to step over my dead body, because this time I’m fighting tooth and nail for him.”

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so furious and so alive. Her words, her indignation felt so right, and she was frustrated by how unaffected Gold was by the whole thing. She felt as though she could incinerate him with a single look, and yet here he stood, impassable to the storm raging inside of her. She hated it. 

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” she prompted him, needing an answer, ready to fight. 

“Well, I’m not going to give you visitation rights or schedule for Gideon to come over here,” he started off, gesturing at her to let him continue when she tried to protest. “But at the same time Gideon is old enough to decide whether he wants to hear from you or not. As long as he’s okay with it, you two can keep in touch in whatever way he wishes. If he wants to meet you, however, I want to be informed, and if I decide I’d rather be present for the encounter you won’t object. And God help you if I ever find out you’re causing Gideon to lie or run away again. You only get one chance at this, Miss French, and I’m not a forgiving man. If you blow this, if you cause Gideon any harm, I’ll tear you and your life apart piece by piece.”

Belle was so relieved that she thought she might faint. The weight that had been pressing on her chest since she was sixteen had suddenly been lifted; at long last, she could be with her son. 

“Thank you, thank you so much. I promise you won’t regret this,” she vowed, barely restraining herself from hugging him; she had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate that. “What about his mother? I’ll need her approval as well, do you think she’ll be okay with this?”

Gold looked surprised for a moment, as if he hadn’t been expecting Milah to be involved, then shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about Milah, I’ll talk to her. If I were you, I’d keep out of her line of sight as much as possible; she doesn’t like competition, and she will see you as a rival for Gideon’s affection. She’ll have to accept this situation for Gideon’s sake, but that does not mean she’ll like it, and she could turn quite nasty on you,” Gold warned her. He seemed to be looking at her differently now, still distant but much less wary, and definitely no longer angry or disgusted. The fact that he was even going out of his way to help her deal with his ex-wife felt nearly surreal. 

“Do you really think she’ll be that upset? The last thing I want is to bring conflict into Gideon’s life.” 

“As you might have noticed, there’s conflict between Gideon and Milah already. Strangely enough, your presence might just be the thing Milah needs to realize she needs to fix things between them,” Gold reassured her. “I still suggest you limit your phonecalls to Gideon when he’s at her place though. He would normally be staying with her here in Boston now that it’s summer, but after everything that happened Milah and I agreed it would be better if he moved back to Storybrooke a bit sooner than anticipated. He’ll be with her every other weekend for the duration of the school year, plus the occasional holiday.”

Belle took mental notes of all of that, thanking him again. She still couldn’t believe all of this was truly happening. 

“Now that we’ve reached an agreement on your situation with Gideon, I have to ask you if there’s any chance of his father showing up as well,” Gold asked after a beat of silence, and the question sounded so absurd to Belle’s ears that she couldn’t help but let out a humorless laugh.

“Believe me, I’d be the most surprised if he did. The only time we ever spoke of my pregnancy he suggested I terminate it. I’m not even sure he knows I gave Gideon up for adoption, and I haven’t seen him in over a decade. The chances of him finding Gideon are abysmal, and the chances of him caring about him are even below that. I wouldn’t worry about the father if I were you.”

The heartbreak Gary had caused her had faded through the years, but the sheer disgust at the person he was had only increased. Now, as a grown woman, she fully understood just how vile he had been, how slyly he had taken advantage of her, and she pitied her younger self for ever falling for him. 

“Looks like there is someone out there who deserved my anger after all. I’m sorry I thought that was you,” Gold said, something dangerous flickering inside his eyes. He was angry, but not at her, and it was a nice change. She remembered the threat he had made, how he’d destroy her and her life if she ever hurt Gideon, and in that moment she knew that’s exactly what he would do to Gary if she ever gave him his name. For a second, she was tempted to do just that, but there was too much at stake to indulge in vengeance. Messing with Gary could lead him to Gideon, and that was the last thing she wanted; for her son’s sake, her past had to stay in the past. 

“I’ll be going then. Everything is settled and I have a long drive ahead of me,” Gold said, moving towards the door. 

“Can I offer you anything? A cup of tea maybe, or I could make you a sandwich for the trip,” she offered again. She owed him more than she’d ever be able to say, but a sandwich was as good a place to start as any. 

“There’s really no need. Goodbye, Miss French.”

The door closed behind him, and Belle stared at it for a few seconds, still struggling to believe the past half-hour hadn’t been a dream. He had said yes. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time, yet she couldn’t bring herself to do either. Suddenly, she realized she had to tell Gideon about this. He had been so worried and ready to fight his dad on this, but there would be no need, and she was so happy she could give him good news. She grabbed her phone and, for the first time, called her son’s number. Today started their second chance. 

________________________________________________________________________________

By the time October rolled around, Belle was the happiest person in the world. After her encounter with Gold, things with Gideon had gone wonderfully, and her treasured collection of photos of him was growing rapidly. One of her favorites, that she had printed and framed, was the one she’d taken the first time she’d gone to Storybrooke, on Gideon’s first day of high school. It had been the first milestone of his life she’d been present for, and it had been hard to hide her tears as he hugged her before entering school. Another photo she kept in her wallet at all times, and just looking at it could brighten even the worst day.

She’d felt ill at ease in Storybrooke at first. In a quiet little town like that, a normal visitor was bound to be noticed, but being Gideon’s birthmother had put her directly at the center of the town’s gossip for a while. Gideon had been key to overcoming that; he’d been so obviously overjoyed at having her there, and so proud to be seen with her, that for the first time she’d forgotten to think of other people’s judgment. It didn’t always work, of course, but she liked to think she was getting better at it. 

One of the first things Gideon had shown her in Storybrooke was the library: it was closed, unfortunately, but the ladder that went to the clocktower on top of it was still usable, and Belle found herself loving the view of the town from up there just as much as Gideon did.

“The mayor shut the library down years ago, but I’ll have it reopened. I’ll be the librarian and have all kind of initiatives: reading groups, writing groups, Harry Potter themed events, everything. I’ll make this part of the library too: this place was made to be a reading nook. Everybody is going to love it.” he had told her, gesturing vaguely around him as if he could already see the finished work.  

“I feel like you’ve been planning this for a while, haven’t you?”

“Ever since I read Matilda as a kid. I even have a notebook on which I write every idea for this place. I don’t usually talk about this to people. I want to keep it a secret from dad, because he knows the mayor and I’m sure he could get the place reopened in a matter of minutes, but I want to do it myself.” he had said, still bubbling with enthusiasm. Then his expression had turned uncertain “Do you think it’s silly?”

“No, not at all. I always wanted to be a librarian as well,” Belle had said, stepping away from the window. “It’s nice to see you want the same.”

“Then why aren’t you one? Is it… is it because you got pregnant with me?” he had asked hesitantly.

Gideon had never asked her why she’d given him up, and she had never been brave enough to bring the matter up. Still, she could feel the need to know simmering inside of him, and every time he asked her something about her past she could feel the biggest, most dreaded question drawing a bit closer.  

“No, absolutely not,” she had answered truthfully. “I started working right after high school, but I went to university afterwards. I’m not a librarian simply because it’s hard to find a librarian position, especially one that is decently paid. It’s a good thing that you’ve already found the perfect place to work at, isn’t it?”

Bringing Gideon’s attention back to his dream had distracted him and lightened the atmosphere, and for that day she hadn’t had to deal with any more hard questions. The idea of telling him about her past scared her more than it should have. Gideon had known she’d given him up for adoption, and yet he came looking for her, so he clearly had made some sort of peace with that. Yet the idea of telling him about his father - or hers, for that matter - felt so wrong. She didn’t want him to know how evil some people could be, and she wanted even less to admit how she’d let people like them defeat her, cornering her to the point where she had to give up the most precious thing in her life. She was ashamed to admit to her son that she’d let other people tear them apart. 

Gradually, the colorful autumn leaves were replaced by the first flurries of snow, and as Christmas drew closer Belle learned with a little disappointment that she wouldn’t see Gideon for Christmas, as she’d secretly hoped. 

“I’m staying with my mom… well, my other mom. Even if I’m supposed to spend half the holidays with her, she generally lets me go back to dad’s place if I want, but this year she insisted we spend some time together. Sorry,” Gideon explained on the phone.

Belle was glad he couldn’t see her face, so she didn’t have to hide her sadness. Rationally, she knew it was only a good thing if Gideon spent more time with Milah and mended the complicated relationship he had with her, but a little part of her couldn’t help but feel jealous. Given that she wouldn’t be spending her Christmas with Gideon, she accepted to switch shifts with Tiana at the restaurant and work on Christmas day. The day was every bit as chaotic as they expected, and Belle was so busy that she almost didn’t notice the group that had just sat at a nearby table.

Neal spotted her the same moment she saw him. His eyes grew wide in surprise, then he  abruptly turned around and stared at the woman in front of him with such rage that Belle was surprised Milah didn’t catch fire on the spot. She either didn’t notice his death glare or didn’t care about it, because she kept chatting with the man beside her as if nothing had happened. Beside Neal, still oblivious to everything, sat Gideon.

Belle scurried away from the table, thankful that it was not her responsibility but Cecelia’s, but still painfully aware that she wouldn’t be able to hide her presence from them for long. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t mind Gideon being there; she worked at a fancy restaurant like any other, and she would be glad to just be able to say hi in between serving tables. The problem was Milah. Even if Belle could have given her the benefit of the doubt, Neal’s stare accused her; Milah hadn’t just casually stumbled upon the same restaurant Belle worked at, she had planned this, but to what purpose Belle couldn’t tell. She doubted, however, that Milah’s intentions were entirely innocent. 

Belle tried to carry on as if nothing was happening, but not even five minutes had gone by before she heard Gideon exclaim: “Mom?”

“Yes, dear, what do you want?” Milah answered, sporting a sickeningly sweet smile. 

For a moment, Belle thought Gideon was about to make a scene. For a moment, so did Gideon. He realized, however, that there would be no point in doing so: if Milah was doing this on purpose, as he strongly suspected, calling her out on it would just give her a chance to attack Belle directly. If this was a mere coincidence, or if Milah knew his birthmother worked here but didn’t know her face, making a scene would only point her in the right direction. So he bit back the angry remark that had been on the tip of his tongue, and tried to carry on as if nothing were happening. 

It was hands down the worst Christmas any of them could remember, except for Milah and her boyfriend - Keith, if Belle remembered his name right - who seemed to be having the time of their lives. They tried to call Belle to their table more than once, dissipating once and for all any doubts on the coincidence of the whole thing. Belle thanked all of her lucky stars that Cecelia was always quick to intervene, because Milah seemed to be determined to make things as complicated and uncomfortable as possible: she changed her order several times and found literally every excuse to complain, which was just the cherry on top of the already busy Christmas lunch. By the time the four of them finally left the restaurant, Belle didn’t know whether to feel relieved or angry. Gold had warned her that Milah wasn’t the nicest person around, but purposefully ruining her son’s Christmas just to spite his birthmother was simply too much. 

That day set a distinct change in the family dynamics. After a long discussion with Gold - who once again wanted to deal with Milah on his own - they decided to confront Milah together. The meeting was one of the most unpleasant experiences Belle had ever had. Milah had a particular talent for getting under her skin, alternating between shouting and whispering viciously as she brought up all the things that hurt Belle the most: how she had abandoned Gideon, how she wasn’t his real mother, how she wasn’t worthy of him. It took all of Belle’s willpower to keep herself together, but what really shocked her was how easily Milah could hurt Gold as well. Despite his attempts, he couldn’t quite hide his flinch whenever his former wife spat hateful words at him, and even if his remarks were just as cutting as hers, they lacked that particular, unsettling cruelty. 

Milah eventually had to cave in when Gold threatened to bring this to a judge and let them decide whether or not Milah still deserved to see Gideon after what she’d done. She gave Belle the more insincere apology she could muster, and promised she’d never again do something like that. Belle found it very hard to believe her, and even though this technically counted as a win on hers and Gold’s part, Milah’s words had taken such a toll on them that she just couldn’t shake the feeling of having been defeated.

“Do you have to head back home straight away? I think we could both use a warm drink right now,” Belle suggested, pointing at a coffee shop nearby. 

Gold glanced back at his parked car, clearly weighing the options. 

“Okay,” he said eventually, surprising her. 

The place was crowded, as was to be expected on such a cold day, but luckily they found a free table in one corner and ordered two teas.

“I’ll never understand how you don’t freeze to death dressed like that,” Gold said as she took off her coat, revealing clothes that he would have seen more fit for spring. Late spring. 

“Well, I’ll never understand how you’re not sweating to death when dressed like that. You remind me of a girl I once shared an apartment with; we were constantly arguing over the heating, and eventually she moved out.”

“It’s a good thing we don’t live together then,” he joked, immediately regretting it. What if she took it as an insult? Luckily, Belle giggled. 

“It is. We’d come to hate each other within a week.”

He was surprised by how much the thought of not being friends with Belle anymore hurt him. He’d started out hating her, being scared of her, and yet after talking to her just a handful of times his feelings had completely changed. Belle had a way of making him feel at ease that very few people possessed, and the fact that he was smiling so shortly after meeting Milah was proof of that.

“I’m sorry. For all the things Milah said to you, I mean. She really shouldn’t have done that;” he said, feeling the need to make up for his ex-wife’s behavior. 

“Yes, she was… harsh. Is she always like this, or did I strike a nerve?”

What she’d really wanted to ask was ‘Is she always like this with you?’, because Belle couldn’t truly believe that her presence could make someone turn so viciously against their former husband. That question, however, would have been too direct and would have looked like prying. 

“You didn’t do anything, at least not intentionally. I think you’re dealing with Gideon wonderfully, but she refuses to see past her wounded ego. She was always extremely… fierce, but I think I bring out the worst in her. I’m sorry you had to witness that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You did nothing to deserve such treatment: she is in the wrong.”

He smiled a bit sadly at her, like he appreciated her words but didn’t truly believe them. Their teas arrived in that moment, distracting them for a moment and giving Belle a chance to change the subject. 

“You know, this is incredibly awkward to admit, but I’ve just realized I don’t know your first name. Maybe Gideon told me at first and then I forgot, I’m not sure, but he only calls you ‘dad’ and everyone else calls you ‘Mr. Gold’ and so it… it kind of slipped my mind.”

Under literally any other circumstance she would have died rather than admit this, but it was the only thing that had come to her mind that could distract him from his former wife. 

“No apologies needed. I don’t really like my name, so I try to have it as little known as possible,” he explained. 

“Could I maybe shorten it, or use a nickname? I feel strange calling you by surname.”

Milah had called him ‘Rum’, would he be offended if she used it?

“I’m not going to be weirded out if you keep calling me by surname, but if you prefer to use my name I guess ‘Rumple’ will do. Just don’t use it too much when we’re in Storybrooke and other people can hear us: I have a fearsome reputation to maintain.”

She raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that, and he smirked over the rim of his teacup. 

“What, you don’t believe me?”

“I have a hard time imagining a town that keeps being scared of you after seeing how loving you are with your kids. I saw you trying to hold back your tears when Gideon started high school,” she remarked, taking a sip of her own tea. 

“You’ll be surprised by how much people refuse to see once they’ve formed their opinion on someone. I’m not saying I’m lenient with late payments, but I’m not nearly as ruthless as I once was, yet my reputation stays unchanged. Still, I don’t want to endanger it more than necessary.”

“Fine, I’ll only use it in case of emergency, I promise,” she conceded in mock seriousness. 

Her smile seemed to warm him more than the tea had, and there was a beat of silence as Gold mused over his next words. 

“You know, I was thinking… Gideon’s birthday is coming in less than two months and your birthday is only two days later, so I was wondering if you’d like to come to Storybrooke for those days, and maybe stay a little longer than usual, so that you and Gideon can celebrate together. I know he’d love that, but I haven’t told him anything yet so that he doesn’t get his hopes up in case you can’t come…” he felt incredibly stupid asking her this, and he couldn’t quite tell why. He just wasn’t sure of who she was to him anymore, and how he should act around her. Were they co-parents? Acquaintances? Or were they becoming friends? 

“I’d love to,” she replied, making him momentarily forget about his doubts. “I’ll have to make sure I can take those days off from work, but I don’t think there will be any problems.”

“Good. Do you want me to tell Gideon or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“No, tell him, it’s nice to have something to look forward to.”

She surely would be counting the hours until then.

“Thank you,” she added after a moment. “Really, thank you so much for everything you’ve done and you’re still doing for Gideon and me. You had every reason to be wary of me, but you listened to me and gave me a chance, and I’ll never be able to repay you for that.”

“You being there for Gideon and making him happy is payment enough,” he said immediately. “The only people you have to thank are Gideon and yourself: him because he’s the one who gave you a second chance, and you because you didn’t waste it. I merely supervised at first.”

Belle smiled gratefully at him, and their conversation flowed freely after that. Nearly an hour later, when Gold finally made it back to his car, the thought of Milah and her cruel words couldn’t have been more distant from their minds. 

**********

The sky was thankfully clear when Belle drove into Storybrooke on the 9th of February, but there was snow piled up at the side of the streets, and the promise of more to come in the following days. She’d be staying in Storybrooke for a whole week, and she was beside herself with excitement. If fourteen years prior somebody had told her where she’d be now, she wouldn’t have believed it. She made a quick stop at Granny’s B&B to leave her suitcase and take a shower, then walked to Gold’s house. She had to be extra careful, because there were thin patches of ice on the sidewalk and she risked slipping more than once.

Gideon had been staring anxiously out of the window ever since Belle had texted to say that she was at the B&B. When he saw her, he screamed “SHE’S HERE” at the top of his lungs, and all but flung himself out of the house to go hug her. 

“Don’t run!” Gold warned him as he hastened to follow him. “There’s ice on the ground…”

He had barely finished talking when he felt his good leg slip out from under him. All of his weight went on the bad one, already in pain from the cold, and a moment later he was falling hard on his backside, every bone in his body screaming in pain.

Belle and Gideon rushed to his side, their eyes wide with fear, talking over each other in their haste to ask him if he was okay. 

“I’ve been better,” he replied gruffly. He reached for his cane, grimacing at the sight of his bruised hand, but when he tried to get back on his feet pain shot through his right leg, making him lose his balance again. It was only thanks to Gideon and Belle supporting him that he avoided a second fall. Sitting again on the cold ground was far from pleasant, but it was all he could do for now. He pulled the right leg of his pants up, and took a look at his prosthesis. The stupid thing seemed to be fine, but the point where his knee connected with it hurt like hell. It wasn’t unusual for it to hurt, but not to this level.

“Gid, could you go grab my crutches? I don’t think I can manage it with the cane,” he had to admit. He wanted to get back inside as soon as possible, both to change clothes and to avoid being seen like this by any passers-by, but he’d never liked using the crutches. He was especially bugged by the idea of letting Belle see him like this, hurt and unable to even stand on his feet. She was smiling worriedly at him, clearly trying not to stare at his prosthesis, and he appreciated her effort. The silence between them stretched awkwardly, and he was wondering if he should try to say something when his son reappeared.

“I called Whale. He’s at the hospital now, but his shift is about to end and he said he’ll be here in half an hour,” Gideon said, handing him the crutches. 

Gold nodded, too focused on keeping his balance to speak. His bedroom was on the first floor, but there was no way he could manage the stairs now, so he settled himself in one of the guest bedrooms downstairs. Gideon brought him a change of clothes, while Belle made tea for everyone, and later insisted on disinfecting the cuts on his hands. 

“I told you I can do it on my own,” he protested again as she took one of his hands in hers. 

“I know, but it will be much easier and quicker if I do it,” she said, stubbornly refusing to let go of his hand even as the sting of the disinfectant made him squirm. “I know it hurts, but if you move it’s going to take even longer to finish.”

“Sorry. I’m just… not used to having someone do things for me,” he admitted after a moment, carefully weighing his words.

“Oh, I know the feeling, believe me. Do you want me to leave you alone? I just wanted to help, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” she made to move, but he gestured at her to stay.

“I’ll get used to it,” he said as an explanation. It was technically rude to say it that way, but Belle took it for the ‘thank you’ it actually was and smiled at him. 

“We’ll both have to. As I said, I’m used to being alone too.”

“Thank you,” he said as she finished bandaging his hand. “For this, for your patience, for everything. You just got here and you have to take care of me. I really didn’t want your vacation to start like this.”

“Well, that’s one of the perks of getting used to having other people around: you don’t have to deal with problems alone anymore. I’m here to stay, and not only on the good days,” she concluded with a smile. 

When she said it like this, it sounded almost easy. He was still processing her words when Gideon announced Whale’s arrival, relieving him of the embarrassment to come up with a reply that was at least one tenth as significative as Belle’s words had been. 

All in all, Whale told him he’d been lucky. He hadn’t broken any bones nor suffered any serious damage, but his knee was inflamed and Whale recommended not to wear his prosthesis for the next few days if he didn’t want to make things worse. In Gold’s opinion, that was far from being lucky, but he seemed to be the only one in the house to think so. After Whale left, he found himself in a heated discussion with Belle and Gideon on whether or not he should hire someone to help him through the following days. 

“I’m perfect capable of taking care of myself without help, case closed,” he snapped.

“I know, but what if you fall again? We have lots of things planned for the next few days, and there’s still snow outside. You can’t lock yourself up in the house, and I can’t pick you up if you’re too hurt to do it yourself. I’m just worried, that’s all,” his son replied stubbornly, his expression so similar to Belle’s that Gold nearly felt like laughing, despite how nervous he was. 

“Rumple, I’m sure you know your limits, and I’m not trying to impose anything on you, but Gideon has a point, and I don’t want you to risk anything just because you want to do everything on your own,” Belle said, clearly trying to keep the discussion form escalating. 

“Then trust me when I say I’m perfectly capable of managing my life without a stranger following me around and taking care of me as if I were a kid,” he replied drily.

“Well, if having a stranger around is the problem, we could ask Belle to stay here and help you,” Gideon suggested then. 

“WHAT?” the exclamation of surprise came from both of them at the same time, and if they’d been a little less shocked they would have probably found that fact very funny. 

“I just thought… we’ll be with Belle most of the time anyway, so why not? You two already know each other, so I think you wouldn’t be as snappy with her as you’d be with a stranger, and she would probably be less strict than a real nurse, so you wouldn’t feel like you’re being babysat. I thought it could be a nice compromise,” Gideon explained, staring at his father as if daring him to contradict him. 

“Belle came here to spend time with you, not to be my nurse,” Gold replied patiently. “You can’t expect people to change their plans because it suits you.”

“I mean, it’s not like I would mind, I just… I’m not sure I’d know what to do, or if you’d even be comfortable with having me around all the time,” Belle interjected.

Gold turned to look at her, even more surprised than he’d been by Gideon’s words: he’d been so sure that she wouldn’t accept that he’d completely forgot to ask her what she thought of it. In a way, he’d made the same mistake Gideon had. 

“I… I don’t want to bother you,” he repeated somewhat weakly.

“Well, you also said you don’t even need that much help. I’d be happy to help you if it makes Gideon feel safer, but I won’t insist if you don’t want me around all the time.”

“Fine,” he conceded at last. “I’d much rather have you around than a stranger.”

“She can take the spare bedroom upstairs!” Gideon exclaimed, beside himself with excitement. “This is going to be an awesome week!”

“No one has ever been so happy about me getting hurt,” Gold chuckled after sending Gideon to prepare Belle’s room.  

“Can you imagine his outrage if I had been the one to get hurt and you hadn’t agreed to let me stay here right away? I can almost see it.”

“We should suggest he joins a theatre group or something, he does have a penchant for drama.”

Belle agreed, and they traded silly quips for a little while before Belle went back to collect her bags from Granny’s. As she settled into her room, she couldn’t help but think that Gideon was right: this was going to be one awesome week. 

**********

As expected, more snow fell during the following three days, and that forced Gideon to change plans for his birthday. He had been planning to spend most of the day out with his two best friends and celebrate at dinner with Belle, Gold and Neal (who had arrived from Boston the day after Belle), but the prohibitive weather forced him to spend the day indoors, with his friends just barely managing to get to his house without freezing their noses off. Neal seemed to find it hilarious that one of Gideon’s friends was also named Neal, and spent the entire day making jokes about that. Everyone seemed to find it funny, except maybe Gideon, who seemed strangely tense at times. Robin and Neal ended up staying for dinner as well, so that they were all together when Gideon finally got to open his presents. Everyone’s gift seemed to be just perfect for him, and Belle felt her nervousness rise as she handed him hers. She had gotten to know him so much during the past few months, but she knew she still had so much to learn. What if her present was the only one he didn’t like?

“I wonder what it could possibly be,” Gideon joked as he started unwrapping what was clearly a book. “Her Handsome Hero? I’ve never heard of this one!”

He seemed happy enough about it, and Belle breathed a sigh of relief. 

“It’s a retelling of a fairytale I used to love as a kid. I thought that since you like fantasy you might like it,” she explained. 

“Thanks, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

She’d wondered if she was considering her own tastes rather than Gideon’s in buying the present, but she had wanted her first gift to him to be something meaningful and, all things considered, she was happy with her choice. Gideon and his friends played video games for a little while more before it was time for Robin and Neal to go. Belle drove them to their respective homes, and even if Storybrooke was small it took her a long time to get back home, because it had started snowing again and she had to proceed almost ridiculously slowly. 

The first thing she noticed as she stepped inside, still shivering a bit from the cold, was a stream of muffled curses coming from the kitchen. A clear idea of what was happening immediately formed in her mind, and she strode towards the noise, not knowing if she should be more worried or angry. 

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” she whispered angrily at Gold, not wanting Gideon to hear them. 

“What does it look like?” he bit back, but there was a hint of guilt in his eyes. He’d put his prosthesis back on, and was in the process of tidying up the kitchen. Everything about his demeanor screamed that he was in pain, yet he stood stubbornly to face her, trying to hide the way he had to lean on the sink. 

“I could have done this! It’s what I’m here for!” she reminded him. 

“No, you’re here to spend time with your son. You don’t have to waste your time being my caretaker.”

“For God’s sake, I thought we’d already talked about this!” Belle burst out, walking towards the crutches he’d abandoned in the corner. “Take that thing off before Gideon hears us and go to bed.”

“No.”

She was on the verge of screaming, but then she noticed something in his expression, something that went beyond simple stubbornness.

“Rumple, what’s wrong?” she asked, closing the distance between them, her voice turning softer. “You seemed to be doing fine, and now you do this. Did something happen? Did I do something?”

He looked around, as if searching for an excuse to avoid the conversation. 

“It’s not easy to explain,” he muttered eventually. 

“Well, I have time and patience, so try as much as you want,” she replied sitting down on a chair, and gesturing at him to do the same. He limped towards the table and let out a sigh of relief as he sat down heavily in front of her. 

“Just for the record, where are Neal and Gideon? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by having you open up when your kids could walk in at any moment.”

“I told Neal to go upstairs and make sure Gideon doesn’t stay up all night reading. Not that it works, but they generally start talking and end up falling asleep in the same bed at some time past two am. Their faces tomorrow morning are going to be hilarious.”

No matter how upset Gold was, talking about his children always lightened his mood, and once again that sight made Belle smile. 

“Good. So, can you tell me now what’s going on?” Belle tried again, laying one hand over Gold’s in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. 

“I just… I don’t see how it’s fair that you should do all the work when you’re the guest. I should do better,” he said, not quite looking at her.

“But you’re hurt!”

“And that’s my fault! I should have been more careful, and you shouldn’t have to pay for my mistake,” he insisted, and Belle suddenly had the feeling that he wasn’t really talking to her. Of course, he was saying those words to her, but this wasn’t the first time he’d said them, and she wasn’t the one who made him feel like this. 

“Does it have something to do with Milah?” she asked, and it shocked him so much that he actually looked at her for the first time since the discussion started. 

“What?”

“Did she make you feel like your disability was your fault?” she insisted, and from the way he looked at her, she had truly gotten to the heart of the problem. 

“She never called me disabled” he murmured after a while. “Useless cripple was the most common expression. Or something along the lines.”

“That’s horrible.”

She’d heard Milah say something about his leg and his illness during their discussion after Christmas, but without context it had been just one amongst the many insults she’d thrown at him.

“She… she didn’t like it when I got sick. She was pregnant with Neal when I was diagnosed with bone cancer. With a baby on the way she couldn’t deal with my sickness as well, especially when it lead to the amputation I tried my best to help her as much as I could, but there wasn’t much I could do at first, and the sickness caused by the chemo didn’t help. I thought I could fix things once I had healed, but then we found out that the treatment had left me sterile. I think that was the real end of her feelings for me, even though it took me a lot longer to realize it.”

“What happened after that?” Belle asked softly. She didn’t want to pry, but she could feel he needed to talk about this.

“Once I was sure my cancer wasn’t coming back, I talked Milah into adopting. My inability to have any more children had upset both of us, and I was sure that adopting was the solution. We could be happy again, Neal would have a much wanted sibling, and a kid would get a loving home. I thought it was a win-win scenario.”

He’d been so enamored with the idea of having another child that he’d projected that wish onto his wife. Now he realized that Milah had been upset mostly because she saw his sterility as another failing on his part, not because she was desperate to have more kids. 

“And I suppose that’s when Gideon came into your lives,” Belle prompted him, trying and failing not to imagine a younger Gold holding a newborn Gideon. It was an image that hurt her in more ways than she could count. 

“Yes. I loved him from the moment I saw him. After all I had been through, I was finally back to health and with not one, but two little kids to spoil rotten. Being with them was like heaven.”

He paused for a moment, fidgeting as he looked for the right words and the courage to carry on with the story. 

“Milah, however, wasn’t as happy as I’d hoped. She’d never been overly maternal with Neal, but I never had any doubt that she loved him. With Gideon, however, I started to wonder. I mean, I think she loved him, that she still does, but… she just can’t see him as equal to Neal.”

He’d whispered the last words so quietly that, despite being so close, Belle had to lean towards him to understand them.

“I think he knows. I don’t know when he started to realize it, but he’s a clever kid, he was bound to notice it someday.” 

Belle was biting her lower lip, not sure what to say. She was angry at Milah, but was she in any position to judge her? 

“Despite all of this, I couldn’t bring myself to end things with her. We were almost completely avoiding each other by that point, and I’m pretty sure she had more than one affair through the years, but I didn’t want to upset my children with a divorce. I thought I’d just hold on until they were old enough to deal with it, but Milah beat me to it. Four years ago I woke up and she was simply gone. She left a note saying that she was leaving, but she didn’t leave an address, and she wouldn’t answer my calls. After a day or two she texted Neal to tell him she was sorry and that she would soon file for divorce and a custody agreement, and only when her lawyer contacted me I found out she was in Boston with her most recent lover.”

“Listen,” Belle said once his tale was over. “I can only imagine how much all of this must have hurt, how much it still hurts. All I know is that I’m not her. I’m not going to walk away when you’re sick, or if you make a mistake, or you fail to meet some stupid standard. I’m with you, and not just because you’re Gideon’s father, but because we’re friends.” 

For a moment, she’d been on the verge of saying ‘family’, but she didn’t think either of them was ready for that. ‘Friends’ was a much safer option. 

“No matter what happens, I’m not going away,” she reassured him again. 

“No one,” he said, taking a shaky breath, “No one has ever said that to me. Least of all my wife.”

He looked on the verge of tears, and it came so naturally to Belle to wrap her arms around him, offering the comfort he so clearly needed. He all but sank into her hug, breathing heavily against her shoulder, clearly fighting back tears. They stood like that for a while, with one of her hands gently petting his hair, calming him, and despite their closeness and the silence the situation didn’t grow awkward. When he eventually pulled back, he looked more in control of himself. He opened his mouth to talk, but Belle stopped him before he could utter a single word.

“If you’re going to apologize, please don’t.”

He closed his mouth then, looking both annoyed and amused by how well she could read him. 

“Just take the prosthesis off and go to bed. I can bring you your painkillers if you want.”

“Yes, I think I’m going to need them,” he conceded, reaching for the crutches. 

Having to use the crutches didn’t stop him from doing most things, but it significantly slowed him down, so several minutes passed before he was finally ready to get into bed. He was waiting for his painkillers to kick in when he heard Belle leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs.

“Goodnight,” he said as she passed his door.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be still awake. Did I make too much noise?” she asked, still on the other side of the closed door. 

“No, I just can’t sleep right now.” There was no need to tell her he was in fact in pain. 

“May I come in?” she asked, surprising him. 

“Yes, of course. Is everything okay?” he said as she stepped inside. 

“Yes, I just… I wanted to talk to you about something, but if it’s too late we can wait until tomorrow. It’s nothing urgent.”

“As I said, I’m not sleepy. We have time to talk right now,” he said, gesturing at her to come closer. She sat on the edge of the bed, looking just a tad nervous. 

“Did you notice something strange about Gideon today?” 

The question immediately sent his brain into panic mode, but he couldn’t recall anything that had caught his attention.

“No, he seemed like his usual self,” he replied carefully. 

“Maybe he was. I just thought he looked a bit tense, so I kept an eye on him, and… I think he might have a crush,” she concluded. 

“On Robin?” It was something he really hadn’t seen coming, but it was hardly something worth worrying over. 

“On Neal.” 

There was a beat of silence after Belle’s reply, and she worried her lower lip with her teeth as she waited to see Gold’s reaction. She didn’t think he was the kind of man who would be upset by the idea of having a gay son, but one could never be sure. Right as she was about to ask him to speak, for God’s sake, he did something that completely shocked her:  he laughed. 

“What?” she asked once his laughter died down, not sure of what exactly was going on.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that… life apparently has a strange sense of humor.”

“I’m still not following you.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, gathering up his courage, “Apparently tonight is a night of confessions, and please know that I can count on my fingers the number of people who know what I’m about to say to you. I’m bisexual.”

Of all the things Belle had been expecting, this wasn’t one of them. 

“The day I told my father this, he dropped me at my aunts’ house and never came back. I mean, it’s not like he was fond of me before: Rumplestiltskin is not a name you give to a kid you love, after all, but after that even keeping a roof over my head became too much. It wasn’t easy for me to accept my sexuality after that.” He looked up at her then, his eyes full of both pain and love. “I’m just glad I can give my son the support I never had.”

For the second time that night, Belle could do nothing but hug him. He’d been through so much, and despite what he wanted people to believe, he had stayed a kind man through it all. She held onto him tight, never wanting to let go. 

“You’re the best father I could have hoped for, for Gideon,” she said as she reluctantly pulled back. She wanted to say so much more, that he meant so much more to her, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Instead she got up from the bed, wished him goodnight, and scurried back to her room.

She closed the door, leaning heavily against it, and cursed herself and her furiously beating heart. She had caught feelings for her son’s father. Under normal circumstances, that would have been the normal thing, but this… this was a mess. She felt like crying and laughing at the same time. She wanted to cry because this was never going to work, and she wanted to laugh because it had been so long since she’d felt like this, since she’d trusted and respected and cared for someone so much. She got into bed, but couldn’t sleep for a long time. She kept thinking about Gold’s eyes, This week was either going to be the best of her life, or it was going to be the death of her.

**********

Two days later it was Belle’s turn to celebrate. She usually didn’t do much on her birthday, and getting to spend the day with her son and his family was already more than she’d ever expected, but Gideon went out of his way to celebrate for her. Someone (she suspected Gold, under Gideon’s direction) had hung streamers in the living room during the night, and during breakfast she learned that they’d made a reservation in Storybrooke’s nicest restaurant for lunch. The thing Gideon was clearly waiting for the most, however, was the moment when they got back home, when he deemed it was finally time to give her her present. 

“I won’t ask if you like it because I know you will!” He exclaimed proudly as he handed her a box. She opened it, and she was surprised to find a stack of papers. She was confused at first, but as she focused on what was written on those papers her confusion turned to shock. 

“It says here that I’m… the new Storybrooke librarian? What?” she asked, thinking it must be some kind of prank. 

“I told you my dad could have it reopened whenever he wanted! Now you can have the job of your dreams and move to Storybrooke, and we can be together whenever we want!” Gideon exclaimed, still oblivious to her growing discomfort. 

“Gid, listen,” she started off, not really knowing how to put it nicely. “This is incredible and thoughtful and it was kind of you to do this… but you should have asked me first.”

“You didn’t ask her?” Gold exclaimed, turning to stare at his son. “You told me you knew she was okay with this!”

“Well, she said she wanted to be a librarian! And I couldn’t directly ask her without ruining the surprise!” Gideon replied angrily, not understanding why he was being scolded for his great present.

“Then you shouldn’t have done this!” his father insisted. “You could have given her any other present, and then you could have talked about the library first. You shouldn’t have assumed she’d be okay with this.”

“Why are you two angry? I just wanted all of us to be together! Don’t you want to spend more time with me?” he asked Belle, looking at her with angry tears in his eyes. It was the first time she saw him angry at her, and it made her stomach churn. Still, she needed him to understand why she was just as upset as him. 

“Of course I do, Gid, but you can’t make decisions for me. Or for anyone else, for that matter. What you’re asking me to do is a really big change, and that’s not something I want to do without thinking about it first,” Belle tried to explain, but she could see that Gideon wasn’t truly listening to her reasons.

“You’re a liar! You just don’t want to see me!” he screamed, then ran upstairs.

“I’ll talk to him,” Neal said as he ran after his bother, leaving Belle and Gold alone with the weight of what had just happened. It was the first time Belle had argued with her son, and while she knew it was bound to happen sooner or later she still felt sick. 

“I’d like to say that it’s something you get used to, but it’s not true. It always hurts when they’re angry at you,” Gold told her honestly, sitting beside her on the couch. “I’m really sorry. I wouldn’t have let him go through with it had I known.”

“I’m sorry too. I know I probably overreacted. I mean, there’s nothing truly keeping me in Boston. Yes, I have friends there, but Gideon is more important right now, and I did always want to be a librarian. I just… I don’t react well when I feel people are trying to make decisions for me.” She’d had enough of that for a lifetime. 

“We all have our weak spots. Yours is being forced into things, Gideon’s is not feeling that he’s important to the people he cares about. Neal is really good at calming him down, though, I’m sure you two will be on good terms again before dinner,” he reassured her, and he was right. By the time she’d made and drank some tea, Neal had come downstairs to tell her she could go talk to Gideon if she wanted. 

It was easy to apologize to her son, but it was much harder to explain why she had reacted the way she had. At long last, she had to tell him something about his biological father and her own, and how they had both forced or tried to force her into a life she didn’t want. It was a painful tale for both of them, but they hugged at the end, and Gideon apologized as well. He called her ‘mom’ then, and it was at that moment she truly started crying. Despite the tears and the fight, that was the best birthday she’d ever had. 

Now that she didn’t feel like she was being pressured into things, she had to admit that the possibility of becoming Storybrooke’s librarian was amazing. She still wanted to think it over once she was back in Boston and not so emotional, but she doubted she’d find many reasons not to accept the offer. Surprisingly, her birthday had yet more emotions in store for her: the morning after, in fact, Gold gave her another gift, one that from the shape she initially mistook as a book. 

“I wanted to give it to you yesterday, but then I thought you already had enough to deal with in one day,” he said as she started unwrapping the paper. He had been right in his consideration, because the moment she realized what it was a sob tore itself from her throat. 

It was a photo album, and it was filled with pictures of Gideon, at all ages. From when he was just a newborn, so small that he was barely visible under his baby blanket, to his happy toothless smile when he was seven, to the last birthday he’d celebrated without her. It was all the life she hadn’t been there for, and that Gold was now sharing with her. 

“I picked the nicest, but there are more if you want. I just couldn’t fit them all in one album,” he explained as she turned the pages in awe. 

“I have one more,” she said, her voice hoarse with unshed tears. “From before this summer, I mean. When I was in the hospital I… I asked a nurse to take a picture of me with him before handing him over to social services. He was just minutes old. I… I can give you a copy if you want.”

She looked so fragile yet so strong, with her eyes full of tears as she offered to share with him a photo taken in such a painful moment, and he wanted to kiss her so badly that for a moment he had the impression that her gaze was lingering on his lips, as if she wanted to kiss him too. It was nonsense, of course, but it was such a tempting thought that he was relieved when she hugged him, because it hid her beautiful face from his view, giving him a moment to collect himself. If she really moved to Storybrooke, she was going to be the death of him. 

**********

Belle officially moved to the apartment above Storybrooke’s library at the end of March, and spent the entire month of April preparing for the library’s reopening, with Gideon helping her as often as he could, until one day she had to remind him that he was supposed to spend at least some of his afternoons studying if he ever wanted to become a librarian himself. He officially started dating Neal in May, and soon enough their lives settled into a new, pleasant rhythm that Belle could hardly believe was real. When one day Neal announced that he was coming over to dinner with Emma - Storybrooke’s deputy sheriff - it was like yet another piece of their family had finally found its place. 

“They’ve been in love since high school,” Gideon told Belle as they set the table, waiting for his brother and the woman Belle supposed would finally be presented as his girlfriend. “They broke up when school ended and he moved to Boston, but they were never truly over each other. At least Neal wasn’t. I’m so glad they’re finally together again because he’s insufferable when he’s lovesick. The first time they argued he wrote her a song and he kept practicing it for days and it was terrible.”

With Storybrooke being so small, Belle had met Emma several times already, and it didn’t take her long after her arrival to notice that both she and Neal were behaving strangely. She didn’t want to ruin dinner by asking, but her curiosity was soon satisfied when, before taking even the first bite, Neal said he had an announcement to make.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting married already!” Gideon joked, but Neal hardly smiled, which was incredibly unlike him. 

“Well, we are kinda speeding things up,” Emma admitted.

“Oh my God,” Gold whispered, putting two and two together and realizing what Neal was about to say. 

“What I’m trying to say is… dad, I’m pregnant,” Neal said, and it took him a moment to realize what he’d said in his agitation. “I mean, she is pregnant, of course. And no, this was not planned, and we’re not even actually dating, and I still have art school to finish, but we’re keeping it.”

Gold recovered surprisingly well from the shock, but spent the rest of the evening torn between feeling giddy at the idea of becoming a grandpa and wanting to strangle his son for being so incautious. It was a very awkward family dinner overall, and Belle really wasn’t sad when it was over. Despite her best attempts, the talk about babies and unexpected pregnancies had reawakened all sorts of bad memories for her, and had made her feel under the spotlight, a glaring bad example that everyone was too kind to point out. When Gold insisted on driving her back home, she felt a moment of pure panic and briefly wondered if he was going to blame her for being a bad influence on Neal. It was an absurd thought, of course, but she couldn’t help herself.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her instead as soon as they were in the car. 

“I’m fine,” she lied. “Why?”

“Because I saw you fidgeting at dinner, and I know what it means. No one is making comparisons between you and Emma, believe me.”

“But they’re keeping the baby while I…” she started off, but Gold immediately interrupted her. 

“You were seventeen, they’re twenty one. I doubt you were out of high school, while Emma has a full-time job and Neal a part-time one. It’s not the same,” he insisted. 

“I wanted to keep him. I wanted to be his mother and be there for his first steps, his first words, his first everything. I let him go and he found you and I’m glad, but I still let him go not knowing what would become of him,” she sobbed. No matter how much time passed, or however many days she spent with her son or how much she thought she’d healed, having abandoned him was a wound that would never stop bleeding. 

“Hey, hey, It’s alright, I’m here,” he whispered against her ear as he wrapped his arms around her. Only in that moment she realized that the car was no longer moving. “It wasn’t your fault. You told me so yourself. You wanted him, but were forced to let him go. It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know… you weren’t there… I should have been stronger,” she hiccuped. Her sin was too big to be simply excused away. 

“Then why don’t you tell me? Tell me what happened and I’ll honestly tell you if it was your fault,” he suggested.

“I… I need some tea first. Are we at my place yet? I can make some and then I can tell you,” she said, sniffling. 

“Yes, lead the way,” he said as he got out of the car.

In the end, he was the one to make the tea because her hands were trembling and he didn’t deem it safe to let her handle boiling water. Once they were both sitting on the couch with a warm cup in their hands, she started talking.

“My mother got sick when I was 13. Breast cancer. She was still so young that she didn’t think she needed regular check ups, and when she found out it was too late. We tried everything we could, but she died just two years later.”

The worst part hadn’t just been her dying. It had been watching her fade day after day, her condition always worsening despite all the treatment she was getting. She wasn’t sure when exactly Belle had realized her mother wasn’t going to make it, but waking up every day with that knowledge had completely crushed both her and her dad. 

“My father didn’t know how to deal with it. The worse my mother got, the worse he started to behave. Not in front of her, never in front of her, but when she was at the hospital and we were home alone he ignored me, or was straight out mean sometimes. He started drinking, and when I lost her, I lost him too. It was like he didn’t care about anything anymore, not even me. I think he hated everything that reminded him of her, including me. One day I got back home and found him putting all of our stuff in boxes. He told me we were moving to the States. I barely had the time to say goodbye to my friends before he dragged me an ocean away.”

Gold listened, dumbfounded. He could barely imagine the kind of trauma and pain she’d gone though at that time. 

“When we got to Augusta I stuck out like a sore thumb. I moved into a new high school halfway through the school year, so I was the only one struggling to adapt to a new place, and I was too lost in my grief to go out of my way and make friends. I was alone most of the time. There was one boy, though, who never stopped trying to get a date out of me. I turned him down at first, because I felt too sad to date anyone, but eventually I told myself I had to move on, and gave him a chance. Soon enough he was the only one I talked to, the only person in my life beside my dad. When he started pressuring me into having unprotected sex, I was too afraid he’d dump me to tell him no. I didn’t want to be alone again. I knew it was risky, but I didn’t fully realize it until my period skipped. I panicked and told him, and he dumped me, saying he wasn’t even sure it was his kid after all. I don’t think he believed that, I think he just wanted to hurt me. A couple of days later, the whole school knew I was pregnant. He had told everyone about it, while adding a bunch of lies to the mix, all to humiliate me.”

People had stared and pointed at her, at the weird outsider who got herself knocked up, calling her stupid and a slut. Every time she didn’t think things could get any worse, they immediately did.

“I think my father was the only one who didn’t know. I tried to keep it hidden from him for as long as I could, because I was afraid he’d make me have an abortion, and I didn’t want to. I thought that if I could just hold on until the baby had grown enough, he wouldn’t be able to force me to get rid of it.”

“What happened when he found out?” he asked, fearing her answer. 

“He lost his mind. He screamed and shouted and for the first time I was even worried he’d hit me. He told me I was a disgrace, that he was ashamed to have me as a daughter, and that since it was too late to get rid of it I’d have to give my child up for adoption if I wanted to keep living under his roof,” Belle said, her lower lip trembling with the effort of holding back the tears. 

“I didn’t know where to go. I had no friends, no other family members in town that could help me, and I wasn’t even out of high school yet. If he’d kicked me out of the house… I would have been homeless, without a job and with a newborn. What hope did I have? How long would it take before social services took Gideon from me? I knew that the younger the kid, the higher the chances of it being adopted, so I decided… I decided that giving him up straight away would be better. It would give him a better chance of finding a home, and it would spare me the pain of having him taken away when he was older. I never… I never would have wanted to…” she couldn’t continue anymore, her voice broken by sobs, and suddenly Gold’s arms were once again around her. 

“You were barely more than a child. You were alone and you were so brave. It wasn’t your fault,” he said as he held her, repeating it over and over again. She pulled back to look up at him, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the tenderness she saw in his eyes made her heart ache. Gold had given her something she’d long forgotten. He’d  given her a family, something to care for and that cared for her in return. He’d given her a home and a sense of belonging, and maybe it was because she was already too emotional from crying so much, but she couldn’t hold back any longer: she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He froze, and Belle felt her panic rise. She’d screwed everything up.

“Belle… what are you doing?” he asked, taking her face in his hands as he pulled back ever so slightly.

“I love you. I know it’s crazy and I know it only complicates things, but I do. I have for months. I know you probably don’t feel the same way, but I had to tell you.”

Gold was silent for what felt like an eternity, staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears.

“Then,” he said eventually. “Kiss me again.”

Without waiting for her shocked brain to process his words, he closed the distance between them, pressing his mouth against hers in a kiss that was nothing like their first. It was loving and passionate and made her toes curl. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I love you too.”

#Rumbelle #Rumbelle Big Bang #desperatemurph #Rumbelle fic #Gideon Gold #Chipped Beauty #Chipped Gold #Sara talks #Sara writes

[rogers-senpai]

Jonerys Secret Santa gift - My Muse - Jonerys Modern AU

This One-Shot is a christmas gift to the lovely @oadara ! Hope you like it, the gifset is in a seperate post.

I loved your idea of Jon being a piano prodigy, who meets Dany when he’s struggling with his passion for music, and I took the idea, twisting it a bit. I hope you like it anyway! Happy Holidays!

Jon sighed as he brought his palm to his face, trying to rub the exhaustion away from his closed eyes. Bringing his hand down, sliding it across his mouth, he decided he needed another cup of the disgusting coffee the little place had to offer. Disgusting it might be, but it was also strong, and that was exactly what he needed now to help him stay awake and finish the damn thing. He looked out the window, where winter was in its full power. Snow was falling heavily, and children were picking it off the cars they were passing by, marking the whole city with their handprints. The road was pretty much a swamp, and drivers were careful not to lose control on the slippery surface. It seemed like everyone was in a hurry, trying to find the best deals, the best gift ideas, afraid someone else might get it all instead. The closer the 25th was, the busier the streets got. Jon had to send all of the presents a while back, to Scotland where his siblings lived, and he wasn’t planning on a big feast, so he could just sit there in that cafe, toying with a pen, waiting for something to hit him. Studying at the Royal Academy of Music had been his dream since he could remember,  and he never regretted the decision of joining the elite group of their students until now. Jon has always wanted to be a musician,  everybody knew it and they also knew that he actually had great chances of making this dream a reality. When he wa just a kid, you could always find him in the corner of their surprisingly clean attic,  where Catelyn’s old piano stood,  then abandoned and covered with dust and soon brought back to life with Jon’s little hands and the awful sounds they were making, annoying the hell out of Robb and Sansa, and making little Arya and Bran wake up from their sleep. When he got in, he couldn’t control his excitement. He would be having piano, organ and composition lessons in the best college he could think of. That would open so many door for him, all he had to do was work hard each and every day. And he did, he really did. But now all classes seemed to last forever, as he could not focus on what the teacher was saying or bring himself to practise. He couldn’t even be happy about the winter break as they were told to compose something of their own - a reasonable request for seniors of that prestigious academy,  but Jon could not bring himself to even start. Ned and his wife Cat were the best parents any child could wish for. His father was the  definition of honorable and just, a rare thing in their world and times and the moral figure he hoped he took something from. Catelyn wasn’t Jon’s mother - he was  Ned’s child by a woman he knew before her - but she might as well have been. When he was left on their door,  an infant just a few months older than her own firstborn son Robb,  she took him and loved him and never held any hard feelings towards him. But anytime someone asked why he had a different surname - Snow instead of Stark, as his real mother decided, he still felt a sting of not being one of them - the Starks. And now they were both gone. They died in a car accident on their way back to Scotland, as they were visiting Jon in his campus . The whole thing still seemed surreal to Jon. They just got in the car, drove away and would never get to the destination. He was looking around to see if the waiter was anywhere near him, when someone stepped in front of him, clearing their throat, making his head turn in their direction. And when he did, he had to stop himself from gasping out loud. There stood Daenerys Targaryen in all her silver hair and violet eyes glory,  making his stomach twist and his whole body tense.  She was looking straight at him, and the little smile her lips formed was another punch to his guts. Jon could still remember vividly the first time he saw Dany in the Royal Academy halls back in their freshman year, and the happiness when he found out she was on the same year and would be having piano classes with him. At first it was just an attraction that turned into something more as he saw more of her personality,  heard her play the piano or sing in her angelic voice, when he found himself wandering to her vocal lessons or during college events. Or when he heard her just simply talk with her best friend Missandei. She was gorgeous,  intelligent,  good, confident, ambitious and talented,  and soon enough Jon was head over hills for her.    He was forced to awake from his thought as she made a surprised expression, flexing her eyebrows in the way only Daenerys Targaryen could, not noticing the change is his form or deciding to ignore it. “Jon, I had to make sure it was really you! I thought you would be in Scotland. Is this seat taken?“ she asked,looking at him questiongly, one brow still up. He tried to swallow whatever suddenly appeared in his throat. They had piano classes together, so it’s not as if they were strangers, he could act friendly without making it weird, right? He blinked a few times,  as if he was trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming without pinching himself.  When he decided this had to be actually happening,  the butterflies in his stomach stirred as he shook his head. “Um, hi! No, si-, I mean, you can sit, I mean, if you want to. ” he forced out. Great job, Jon. She smiled a bit wider, not commenting on the awkwardness she heard in his voice, which he was thankful for. She hung her bag on the arm of the chair and having taken her faux leather gloves off, she proceeded to take off her checked scarf and  unbutton her black coat, leaving it on, her grey sweater now on display. He realized he’d been staring and quickly looked back to his almost empty music sheets, his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. “Composing?” she asked, her curious eyes following his. He didn’t know why her seeing his work  and his struggles made him uncomfortable to the point he considered hiding it all in his bag, away from those wide pupils. Wait. They are wide. Doesn’t that usually mean… He stopped his thoughts from getting more ridiculous as he shifted in his chair, and lifted his left hand to the back of his neck. “Well, yes. You know, for class.” His response came out a lot lower and more quietly than he meant it to. He dropped his hand that was rubbing against the warm skin of his scruff, and started playing with the now empty cup. Recognition crossed her soft face. “Oh, right. The same thing Missandei is working on day and night. Even though she says it’s supposed to be short.” she shook her head, amusement clear in her voice. Missandei was Daenerys’ best friend, that much anyone could have got right after seeing them just once. They were close before coming to college and stayed together for all those years. Jon was in their piano classes, where they always behaved more like sisters than friends, and he heard that during their vocal classes, they made the perfect pair for any duet. Anyone would say they were tied together for good, but when Dany had her strings practises, Missandei went to composing lectures, the same ones that Jon attended. Daenerys stopped and glanced at the table once more. “Not feeling inspired?” she asked, noticing how little he’d been able to come up with. And little did she know, he wasn’t even happy with what he had on there. He shrugged, the butterflies calming down a bit after having exchanged a few sentences with her without making it too humiliating. “I guess not. Christmas preparation might have got the best of me.” he moved his shoulders once more, trying desperately to seem calm and laid back, not wanting her to see that the Christmas fever was not at fault whatsoever. “It’s all so tiring.” That much was true, the upcoming celebrations really did make it harder to sleep, but as he was not a part of the crazy shopping, it was not the reason for his recent insomnia. “Is that all?” she seemed to be trying to be very careful with her words, as she fidgeted her joined hands on the table. He was about to ask her what she meant, when the waiter came up to them, noticing the newcomer. She ordered a simple green tea and Jon asked for another cup of black coffee. When the man left, she wrinkled her nose and with genuine curiosity and disgust she said: “’Another’ cup? Meaning you drank it once and want more? Are you a masochist?” He laughed lowly, adjusting himself on the chair. “It’s awful, yes, but I need to get this-” he pointed his finget at the sheets spread actoss the shiny wooden surface, “- done. And that’s the strongest coffee I can imagine.” “That much I can agree on. Still not worth it in my opinion, though.” She put her elbows on the table, crossing her arms and resting her palms on her biceps.

“So, about your composing. You never used to have any problems, not from what I can remember.” When they had finals, they had to play something on the piano for the teacher to hear, and he always chose to perform his own work, something not many dared to do. After that, Dany would often ask him about it in the hall, congratulating him, which always made Jon feel like he was on the cloud nine, something Sam would tease him about for weeks. Jon noticed she was much more confident about the topic now, coming bac to the usual self. But he was still not willing to go any deeper into the matter. “Yeah, I guess. Stuff happens. Maybe I need to retire” he tried to crack a joke, hoping to change the subject to a one he could actually let himself speak freely about. Maybe some rest would suffice” she shot back.”Caffeine won’t replace a good night sleep, you know. And spending Christmas alone doesn’t compare to being with your family.” She was smiling as she said it, but he knew she was not being casual about it in the slighest. Noticing the confusion in his eyes, she sighed and moved her arms, resting her head on her palm. “I have eyes.I can see you during classes and I noticed you being so…distant. And now I see you here, when Sam told me and Missandei you were leaving to Scotland for Christmas, struggling to compose. You struggling to compose!” she was genuinely worried, he noticed. “Why do you care?” he didn’t mean to be offensive or rude, he really meant the question. They were close enough for him to call her his friend, they sometimes were assigned to work together, they went out with a whole group many times, but he couldn’t remember ever even having a real, deep talk conversation alone. She looked to her left, where the same waiter was just coming up with their order, the strong smell of his coffee, forcing them back to the crowded cafe. She flashed a beautiful smile at the man, and lifted the cup to her soft lips, as he was leaving. He watched her take a sip and it was only when she put the cup down that she responded. “Because I know what it’s like, Jon.” Ah, yes. She knew that it was his parents’ death that did this to him, it was probably obvious, he now realized. And she has been through something similiar herself. Back in their sophomore year, her father and one of her two brothers - the older one, Rhaegar - were shot in some incident in one of the the city centres of London. That left her alone with Viserys, as their mother died giving birth to her. They came from a rich family, so they were able to keep their lives together in that matter, but Jon knew it crushed her mentally, as Ned and Cat’s deaths crushed him those few months ago. He remembered that she had problems playing piano, as if the pain had blocked all of her abbilities, making her unable to do anything other that grieve. He noticed that the same thing could be said about him in the first weeks after he found out. But when Dany came back a month after the funeral, she was back in the game, laughing quietly during classes with Missandei, seemingly leaving the past behind. That was the part Jon was not able to get to yet. And it’s been past five times the time it took her. She leaned in a little bit, her arms again on the table. “I wanted to talk to you as soon as I heard about the accident, but Sam didn’t think it was a good idea. You didn’t even want to see him so I had no chances.” That’s where you’re wrong. “What makes you think you have any chances now?” Again, he didn’t mean the words to come off as harsh, he really wanted to know what made her go into this subject today. Maybe she knew him better than he thought, as she didn’t seem to be offended at all, as if she knew there were no negative emotions behind his words, nothing other than pure curiosity. “I didn’t actually. I didn’t even know you were still in the country. Much less in this very cafe” she smiled and took another sip. “Perhaps someone up there wanted me to talk to you either way.” “What is there to talk about?” His voice couldn’t get any lower. He brought his palm to the hot cup, not bringing it up to his lips just yet. “Maybe it’s what was meant to happen. Maybe I was not supposed to become a musician” he shrugged. She extended her arm, covering his big hand, the one not holding the coffee, with her petite one. “No, Jon. You know that’s not true. You already are a musician. You were born for it. This is just a setback, one you can overcome. How many great composers who have experienced grief and came back stronger, using the feelings for their work have we learned about? ”He knew she wasn’t expecting an answer, but he started thinking of one either way. “Well, quite a few. I would go with eig-”. She gave him a pointed look, that made him close his mouth at once, stopping the little sarcastic music lesson he had planned.He took a big sip of his black coffee, trying hard not to show any signs of his displeasure on his face face, knowing he probably failed completely. "You're missing the most important point. I'm not one of these guys" he said a bit louder, his voice still much lover than the tone she was using. He looked up to catch her rolling her eyes. Not in a rudely annoyed way, it reminded him of all those times Missandei was stressed about finals, freaking out she hadn't been studying or practising enough, when everyone knew she would end up with the best grades on their year. "I'm sure they all were just born and had an easy way towards being musical legends before them since day one" she shot back sarcastically, her head tilted a bit to her right, making his attention go to her hair, the wet and somehow still beautiful mess in her head. The pale curls were forced to lay flat on her head, brought down by the now liquid snowflakes. He let out a little bit of air with his nose, making an amused sound. “You know what I mean” he replied, taking the cup up once more for another sip, this time doing a better job of keeping straight face. She sighed and took her hand, joining it with the other one  in the air, elbows on the table. “When my dad and brother died, I thought it was the end of my musical career. How could I ever just come back?” her eyes drifted to her left, her head being filled with memories of that time. He tilted his head, watching her. “But you did.” She nodded, her eyes coming back to looking at him. “I know sharing your feelings is not your forte, so listen to me talk about mine” she said, flashing a wam smile, making the fogotten butterflies in his stomach stir. He made a little movement with his head, telling her to go on. “I lost my passion for music then as well. It just didn’t bring me the same joy anymore.” He shifted in the uncomfortable seat, not taking his eyes off her for even a split second. He might have imagined it, but he could swear her eyes followed the movement of his arms, seemingly admiring the muscles visible through the tight long sleeve dark grey shirt. “As you know, I don’t compose. My struggle was with bringing myself to practise piano or vocal, I couldn’t make a single right sound, it was driving the proffesors crazy. You’ve only seen half of it in the piano classes” she chuckled. “I was late to almost all my classes, because I couldn’t sleep at night. I see you share some of those symptoms” she looked pointedly to the dark circles under his eyes and then the bug cup of coffee still in his hands. “What made you come back to normal so quickly?” A month was probably a lot of time to stop being a zombie, and just start living with grief like a normal human being, but to him it seemed abnormally short. “I know everyone grieves differently, but I’ve never heard of someone act like a shell of themselves for over five months. Maybe what I’m about to go into a speech about won’t work, but if there’s even a slight chance it will,  I’m willing to risk making a fool out of myself.” She took a deep breath. “My dad did everything he could to help me make my dream come true. He bought me a piano when I was five, he hired a vocal tutor, took me out to every classical music concert that was happening in England. The day I got in to the academy, it was as if he completed his live mission. Rhaegar was the one I would come to when I left like I was not on the right way to that dream, the one who would listen to me play or sing along with my dad. They supported my wholeheartedly. As I know your parents supported you” she stopped and looked at him expectingly, waiting for him to confirm her statement. He cleared his throat, covering the effect that her words had on him. He would have lied if he said the fact that she was sharing her story and emotions with him didn’t please him greatly. “Yes, they did. Though not as much as Sam’s parents support him” he joked. She laughed, knowing that Samwell Tarly’s parents were not so much supportive as they were demanding. Mr ans Mrs Tarly decided one day that their son would be a great musician, and since he was little he had to fill in the dreams of his family, never being asked once what he wanted. And Sam had no real interest in music, much less classical music, but with a little bit of knowledge and his family’s connections, he got in to one of the best colleges a musician can dream of being a student of. He was not the best in organ playing, but he was surprsingly good at conducting and he was the best student in the Academical Studied department. “I don’t think anyone can beat them” she chuckled once more, before becoming a bit more serious. “My point is that I used the pain of their deaths as an excuse. But stopping my musical education was the worst kind of disrespecting their memory. I know it sounds cheesy, but they would never want me to give up, especially not because of them” she looked directly into his eyes, making sure the meaning of the words stuck with him. “Missandei always says that music is just another language, one that anyone can undestand, even though not everyone can speak it. But with this language you can express more than any words ever could. Love, joy, pain.” He knew where she was going with that, and he looked down. “You have a problem with pouring all your feelings onto your work. They are always beautiful, don’t get me wrong. They’re genius, but now you’re trying to write something in the same style, when your feelings are somewhere else entirely” she shook her head. “That’s not going to work, Jon.” It was as if his soul was an open book she could just read anytime she wanted to. It made him feel exposed, open but somehow still incredibly comforted. Whatever happened, she would understand. How did she get to know him so well?“It seems like you’re stuck. You’re not longer in that severe pain, not for months now, but the artist inside you didn’t get the relief he needed” she continued, before face palming herslef a littte, making his eyebrows go up in surprise. “I’m sorry, I’m talking like some psychologist, when I have no qualifications or rights” she said, shaking her head in disapproval al herself. He smirked and leaned down a little bit. “You’ may not be a psychologist, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear the rest of that lecture. ”Her smile was almost as curing as her wise words. “Just stop trying to hide your feelings in your work, they will be the thing to make them even more spectacular, trust me.” She thought for a second and then added: “And you should go to your family for Christmas. Spending them alone seems very depressing.” His mind went to his half siblings. They would defintely be happy to see him, but should he just catch a train and appear out of nowhere? She must have noticed the conflict in his eyes. “You still have a few days until 25th. I’m sure your presence will be the greatest gift they get. But before that, get some rest. A lot of it. If you still won’t be able to sleep, take some sleeping pills.” 

He hasn’t tried them yet, for stupid reasons. He almost wanted to stay awake every night. Why? Maybe the physical pain helped him, he didn’t know. She showed a little bit of her teeth, happy she was able to have some effect on him as she brought her tea to her lips, looking at her phone. “Oh! I must get going now.” She put the cup down, not taking a sip, and  started putting her scarf on, buttoning her coat. When she was putting on her gloves, he spit out: “Would you like to go out with me?” She stopped in the middle of the process of putting her right glove on, and looked at him with a bit wide eyes. “After  Christmas, I mean. When I get back, before the classes start again” he continued nervously. God, what was he thinking? One talk and he thought he could just ask Danerys Targary- His thought were interrupted when she gave her answer. “With pleasure.”  She was now done with dressing herself, and he could see a hint of smile under the checked scarf. “On one condition. Bring whatever you manage to come out with” she pointed to the sheets. This way she has just given him the best motivation she could. “Having someone give you your opinion on it before handing it should help you, right?” They both knew she just wanted to make sure he would compose something at all. “It definitely will. Thank you, Daenerys” he gave her a full, genuine smile, and noticed her eyes go a bit wider. She cleared her throat, an action he recognized from his own struggles to hide his feelings before her.“So, call me when you’re back. Merry Christmas!” she waved and started walking towards the exit. “Merry Christmas” he mumbled, a little shocked because of the whole situation. He looked down at the sheet, and immediately picked up the pen, suddenly feeling inspired.

#joneryssecretsanta #jonerys fanfic #jonerys #merry xmas

[sheepydraws]

I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (6/11)

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

Thanksgiving Break

FaceBook Messenger:

Shampoo: Ukyo!

Shampoo: Ukyo!!!!!!!

Shampoo: UKYO!!!!!!!

Ukyo: Hey. I just got home. What’s wrong?

Shampoo: EVERYTHING. Why didn’t you message me back?

Ukyo: I turned off my phone in the car. I wanted to talk to my dad. And I was reading him Good Omens.

Shampoo: Oh, isn’t that nice, you got to bond with your father and I gOT SEX TIPS FROM MY GRANDMA!

Ukyo: Explain.

Shampoo: You’re never gonna believe this shit.

Ukyo: Don’t have much of a choice.

Shampoo: Last month Mousse kept asking me when I was going to come home, and I said not till Thanksgiving break

Ukyo: You live like an hour away, tho

Shampoo: That is why I had to come up with a good excuse!!! I told him I had a boyfriend and I wanted to spend my weekends with him.

Shampoo: Mousse said, bullshit, so I told Ryoga to text him and tell him he couldn’t come over for Thanksgiving break so he would believe me.

Ukyo: Could you get to the point?

Shampoo: I am! So Mousse came to pick me up this afternoon, and we’re chit-chatting in the parking lot, and who should roll up?

Shampoo: RYOGA. WITH A PACKED BAG.

Shampoo: HE TOLD MOUSSE HE WAS GOING TO SPEND THE WEEK WITH US

Ukyo: That’s so nice of him!

Shampoo: HE’S SLEEPING IN MY ROOM, UKYO.

Ukyo: Uh…

Shampoo: We don’t have a guest room. I said he could sleep on the couch, but grandma was like, “What? He’s your friend and you’d have him sleep on the couch like a dog?” So I said, “Okay, I’ll sleep on the couch.” and grandma said, well, it sounds better in chinese, okay? Less blunt.

Shampoo: She said I’m in college now, so it’s cool, cause we must be…

Shampoo: AND MA JUST SAT THERE DRINKING COFFEE AND NOT MAKING EYE CONTACT.

Ukyo: What’s Ryoga doing?

Shampoo: He’s in the bathroom. He was really excited to take a shower without worrying someone is going to walk in on him. He mentioned it in the car.

Ukyo: I probably shouldn’t think that’s cute, but it is.

Shampoo: It is.

Shampoo: Not helping.

Ukyo: Shampoo. Hun. Honey.

Ukyo: Chill.

Ukyo: All I’m hearing is, ‘I get to hang out with my friend Ryoga over the break, and don’t have to worry about my ex hitting on me’.

Shampoo: But we’re going to share a bed. Have you ever shared a bed with a guy? Two words:

Shampoo: Morning. Wood.

Ukyo: He didn’t offer to sleep on the floor?

Shampoo: What floor? With my full size in here there is functional space only. It’s the bed or pressed up between the bookcase and the wall.

Ukyo: Just talk to him. Or sleep feet to head. Or with your heads in the middle. Or whatever. It’ll be fine. You are not going to slip, fall over, and accidentally have sex with Ryoga. I promise.

Ukyo: I have to go get dinner with my dad. You okay now?

Shampoo: I guess. We’ll talk soon?

Ukyo: Promise. <3

Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com

5. Dancing turkey gifset

4. Long post about native american culture, vis-a-vis Thanksgiving + charities to donate to.

3. A blurry photo of the tops of someone’s shoes, just under a shelf of canned cranberry sauce at what looks to be a grocery store

2. Shit, did that just post? Fuck. Why meeeeeeeeee

1. I don’t want to tell any of my friends about what happened because I told them to stop whining about Thanksgiving stuff, and I think I’m fine. He didn’t see me, and by the time my father found me he was gone.

Ranma’s Diary

I saw Ukyo yesterday. He looked pretty good for someone crouching behind a display of cranberry sauce.

I think he was hiding from me.

I thought that was kind of funny, because shouldn’t I be hiding from him? And his dad? Don’t they both want to kill me?

I haven’t thought about Ukyo in a while. I try not to. Well, I tried not to, and then I got really good at it, which I think they call forgetting.

I really liked Ukyo. They were cool. Really cool. Normal, too. Their house was always clean enough, and they had lots of different kinds of food all the time. Dad usually just eats whatever I’m supposed to be eating, so a lot of pork chops and hard boiled eggs and protein powder. Somedays I’d go over to Ukyo’s and there would be mexican leftovers, or tuna noodle casserole, or five different lunch meats, and I could eat anything I wanted.

Okay, the best thing about going out with Ukyo wasn’t the food, although the food was great. And it wasn’t the making out, or just lying on their bed and chilling, either.

And it wasn’t hanging out during lunch, or buying gifts for each other on christmas or

There were a lot of really great things about dating Ukyo.

I remember the first time I saw Akane, all I could think was: “He’s not Ukyo.” I was mad enough he was a guy (well, you know, I thought so at the time) but it just seemed so wrong that he wasn’t Ukyo. Like they should have found a male Ukyo or something and that’s who my dad should have been trying to marry me off to.

The Tendos have good food too. Lots and lots of rice. I think Kasumi likes rice cause it’s cheap, and it’s easy to make and she never seems to run out. I mean, she told me that, while she was cooking once. I was sitting on the floor while she wandered around the kitchen. She was making a big ole pot of curry, just a huge tureen of the stuff, and she was going back and forth from the stove to the counter checking the rice and the curry, and poking at something she made for dessert, cause I think she liked to make dessert when I came over. I mean, she told me that.

Kasumi reminds me of Ukyo a little. Not just because they’re both good cooks, but because they both make you feel really calm. Kasumi never seems to talk. You just sit next to her and you learn things. I’m sure she talks, she’s just so…soft. I don’t know. Like you know how when you know someone really well, and you hangout with them a lot, you stop noticing them? Like they’re a chair? I mean, in a good way. You don’t have that, ‘strange person’ alert going off in the back of your head all the time, you just feel totally relaxed like you would if you were alone.

That’s Kasumi.

Anyway, I was on the floor, watching her feet, and I think I had asked her what she thought about Akane and me, and she said,

“I think that mom and dad wanted to raise the perfect woman. Someone who has beautiful children and runs a successful business and marries into a good family that can help with the dojo. Between the three of us they’re going to get her.” that’s how I found out Akane was trans. I mean, I had this weird feeling, the way Nabiki joked about having two sisters, but they didn’t really sound like jokes? She would tease Akane about being feminine, but it seemed more like gushing. Like when one of your friends gets super obsessed with something and you call them a nerd because you’re crazy about that thing too. Like that.

Okay, so I’ve just written this long character study thing, but I don’t feel much better about seeing my old bae hiding from me in the supermarket with the ‘seasons greetings’ and ‘goodwill to all’ signs already up.

I think, the point I was trying to make, somewhere in here, was that I miss Ukyo, and I want to talk to them, but what am I going to say? I miss them because of what I did, and even if they feel the same, it’ll probably be just like finding out Akane is trans.

“Hey, we have this thing in common! Maybe we can use it to build a bridge over this huge chasm of anger and resentment between—nope, it all fell in.”

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Hey Akari, not sure if it’s been a long time since we’ve talked, or it feels that way because I’m on break. I’ll be home soon though! It’s going to be great. A proper slushy christmas. The weather over here is a little strange. It’s just cold and bright. Not warm, but everything seems to glitter, even though there’s no snow yet.

It is very strange sharing a bed wi[deleted]

Thanksgiving is very interesting this year. I’m used to the tradition since this is usually when I would go visit mom, but it’s very different to go for a week and to actually live here and see how desperately everyone is using Thanksgiving to stave off christmas.

It’s also very interesting sharing a bed with a girl. I mean it’s not bad it’s just really really intimate and I never even did this with you and I’m waking up wrapped up in the way she smells and the warmth of her and [delete]

So far things have been pretty relaxing, here’s hoping that continues so I’m all rested up for finals. I’ve been studying very hard for my calc final because it’s my last one, and the sooner I finish it the sooner I’m on my way home,

Can’t wait to see you.

Ryoga.

The Tendo House

Kasumi’s recipes: Moussaka!

The video opens on the familiar view of Kasumi’s kitchen and an unfamiliar guest.

Kasumi: So, I don’t actually have the money, or the fridge space or literally anything that would make making an extra Thanksgiving dinner worth it.

Akane: I mean, you could have done it in August and—

Kasumi: (Throwing her arms around her sister in an effort to startle her. It works) So I’m here with my sister, Akane, and we’re going to make something that, while not a traditional Thanksgiving dish, is delicious, warm, and perfect for sharing.

Akane: And then Kasumi is going to start on the actual Thanksgiving stuff, and she’s going to post videos of her two best dishes so you have them for next year, or whenever.

Kasumi: (Releasing her sister) It’s going to be brisket, and a cranberry sauce recipe that you will actually want to eat. But for now (she claps her hands together) Moussaka!

Wide shots of fresh produce occur, as well as plenty of slicing and drizzling with oil. The moussaka comes together, layer by layer.

Abruptly Kasumi’s voice over and impersonal shots of her and Akane’s hands are replaced by another wide shot of the kitchen.

“Kasumi, I’m going to the store, do you—“ A boy appears on screen, roughly Akane’s age. There is a rather criminal amount of swagger in his walk for someone whose white gi pants are sticking out under a puffy, flourescent orange winter coat. He stops abruptly when he notices Akane.

Kasumi: (finishes layering zucchini in the huge black pot the moussaka is going into and walks past Akane to rinse her hands in the sink). I think I’ve got everything I need. Wait—Do we have pickles?

Akane: No, I finished them last night.

Kasumi: Pickles then. The sour, garlicky kind. Strips, not chips or squewers or whatever else they have. Strips. Here, I think I have a few dollars in my purse.

Boy: Oh, no, I’ll pay for it. What’s a couple of bucks between-(he fumbles and takes a different track) I mean, you’re doing thanksgiving for us. It’s the least I could do.

Kasumi: Speaking of feeding you, what kind of food do you like? I’ve got a good sewing video, and one about fixing pipes in the making, but after thanksgiving I’m going to be clean out of food video ideas.

Boy: (Clearly just wanting to get out of the kitchen) Christmas is coming up, right? What about cookies. A bunch a different cookies, in, like, gift baskets. That seems like your sort of thing.

Kasumi considers this for a minute, hands on her hips. She seems to evoke a certain gravity on this boy. He looks like he wants to leave, but a certain force is keeping him rooted to the spot.

Kasumi: (With a decisive nod) Then I’ll need more flour, sugar, butter…You know what, I’ll write up a list. Akane, are you okay going with him? He might need a little help with all that stuff.

Akane: (Looking very similar to the boy, in that she would love to say no, but finds it impossible in front of Kasumi). Okay. I’ll help.

And, in a voice over that follows a seamless transition back to Moussaka layering, Kasumi explains: And that is why Akane is not in the rest of this video, as well as a sneak peak at what I’ll be doing soon!

The three most important posts from timetoddddie.tumblr.com:

3. A post reblogged from fuckboisgetmoney: Ryoga’s battered face and the caption about possibly starting a guro blog. #not a guro blog exactly #documenting the strange goings on at a small college out in the sticks of the east coast #jk #it’s people dueling over a girl #what is my life

2. A photo of the top of Kuno’s head, from the time Nabiki stayed with him at health services for a minute. It’s the crown of his head, a splotchy bruise extending from the top of his forehead to his perfectly tousled side part, looking almost like a miscolored extension of the latter. #can you believe he’s our kendo team’s star player? #school spirit #fuck you nsj

1. A picture of the head of the girl’s gymnastic’s team with a spread of bruises over her torso, the vibrant colors broken up by a grey sports bra for modesty’s sake. Nabiki payed for this photo with a bag of jelly beans and five RedBull. She wanted to see how the purple and green flesh played with the rock hard muscles of the girl’s core, and she wasn’t disappointed. #my sister totally isn’t worth this #i love the girl #but doesn’t this look painful? #glad all I gotta do to get a guy is put on some sheer tights

Not Anal

At least he waited till black Friday. At least he had the decency.

Look, sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and you realize you left your bra on because you fell asleep while watching movies with your friend in a post feast stupor. (We always eat late cause the restaurant is usually open. Thanksgiving has never been a big deal at our house because Grandma is in charge around here and she never cared, so she doesn’t really expect us to, but ever since I was about nine and could ask for it we would eat a nice meal on Thanksgiving. Grandma kind of likes an excuse for a big meal, so she lets it happen).

So, anyway, like I was saying, I woke up in the middle of the night and I was half asleep and too clumsy to get at my bra without taking my shirt off. Once underwire was no longer digging into my ribs I rolled over and fell back asleep.

Which, and I swear on my grandmother’s soon to be dug grave, is why I was topless when Mousse decided to come barging into my room and announce that he was going to fight Ryoga for me.

So I’m sitting there trying to cover my chest and screaming at him to get out, and he’s screaming right back that this has nothing to do with me and that he just wants Ryoga, which of course sends mom and Grandma running, because now he’s woken them up, and then I really started howling at everyone to GET OUT and I think grandma implied that it looked like Ryoga and I had been having sex in my room, which is such bullshit, because she never said anything when Mousse and I had been fucking in there, but once Ryoga and I are being total slobs and leaving our clothes and junk food everywhere, then we MUST be having sex, so then I was screaming at her about that—

That is when Ryoga decided to slowly, slowly, sllooooowwlly wake up. I’m serious, his eyelids fluttered, and he stretched his arms over his head, and he propped himself up on an elbow and cracked his jaw, and then, and only then, did he say,

“What the fuck is going on?”

At which point I wacked him with a pillow because everyone else in the room had already seen my breasts and I was more pissed than modest.

“You’re fighting Mousse in the alley behind the restaurant in ten minutes.” I told him, and that seemed to satisfy Mousse, because he nodded and left. Mom and grandma went with him, chatting about who should referee. They seemed to think this was going to be like the little sparring matches Mousse and I used to have when we were still doing martial arts, and not a knock-down, drag-out kind of fight.

“Why am I going to fight Mousse?” Ryoga asked once they were gone.

“For the grand privilege of fucking me, of course.” I said, getting out of bed to figure out where I had thrown my bra.

“But, uh, we…”

“Yeah, I know.”

That is when I got this really awful idea. I swear, my face should have done that grinch thing where his whole face curls in on itself.

I turned around, kicked off my sweatpants-said a little prayer of thanks that I had run out of comfortable undies and was wearing a pink thong- and got back on to the bed so I could start crawling toward Ryoga, basically everything I have on display.

“Maybe I’ll do it, too, if you beat the shit out of Mousse.”

Ryoga’s eyes were enormous. Almost bigger than his head.

“I-I have—you know that I—“

Have you ever tried to crawl sexily? Not easy, but by the time I was close enough to Ryoga to put my hand on his thigh it didn’t matter.

“I know you have a girlfriend, and you’re trying to reel in, like, five more,”

“Just Akane. I mean, Akari. I mean, I’m going to tell Akari to her face.”

By then we were face to face, maybe an inch apart, my breasts just brushing his t-shirt, and I said, “That’s the best part. I already know all that, so I’m not going to get sloppy and tell them, and you aren’t going to have to worry about me expecting you to marry me like my grandmother might.”

There wasn’t an inch between us. I couldn’t even look in his eyes anymore, that’s how close we were. I could feel his breath on my lips, and I could feel that he was hesitating, but I didn’t know if that meant he was holding himself back or if he was trying to force himself to do something.

That was when he threw his arms around me and crushed me against him. Ryoga Hibiki kisses like he’s never going to get the chance again. Like he’s been out in the woods for weeks on end and he’s so desperate for human contact that he’ll wring it out of you.

And this after sharing a bed with me for almost a week. I wonder what his girlfriend is going to get at the airport.

I’m pretty sure that’s the thought that woke me up enough to punch him in the chest(there just wasn’t space for me to do anything else. I couldn’t get his lips off mine to say something) knocking him back enough that I could say, “You should put some shoes on. That alley is all gravel.”

That killed the mood.

So I’m standing out in the back alley, my mother doing a little count down, my lips still tingling—I mean, jesus. No wonder this girl was willing to do long distance. Jesus.— and I know that there is no way Ryoga can take Mousse. Maybe in a kissing contest, but Mousse has years of martial arts training. Ryoga has mass. You can do that math.

Except Ryoga, while he might be big and muscley, has that charming british accent so you know he’s not an idiot. He stayed defensive, which was good. I probably should have told him that Mousse is a cheat, rather than that thing about the gravel.

Okay, Mousse doesn’t exactly cheat, but he’s underhanded. He likes to strike lots of little blows and wear you down, rather than straight up beating the shit out of you.

He does that after you’re worn down.

So Ryoga is staying defensive, feinting here and there, but he’s not giving Mousse enough room to make the little blows he likes. So Mousse starts hitting Ryoga when his guard is up. Hits that glance off his forearms, but hits all the same. Trying to rile Ryoga up, I don’t know.

Mousse went in for another quick punch, and Ryoga rammed him. Arms up, he absorbed Mousse’s blow and ran forward, sending Mousse skidding on the gravel, and slammed him into the back wall of the restaurant.

You know, I didn’t actually see the knife. Just the movement of Mousse’s hands. I didn’t need to see the knife. I knew it was the nice one with the pearl handle. Christ, I saw it when mum was doing the count down, but I didn’t think for a second he would take it out.

But there it was. I knew that movement. I had watched Mousse practice it over and over with his first switch blade, a small black one he found in the tool box under the kitchen sink, until her could whip it out in a second, with a motion like flicking dust away.

But I didn’t actually see the blade flash. I didn’t feel Ryoga’s collar in my hand, but that’s the only thing I could have grabbed to send him flying backwards.

All I felt was the impact of the punch I landed on Mousse’s nose. The crunch of cartilage. His glasses broke, cutting both of us.

I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

Akane’s Diary

I didn’t realize Ranma used to date. I mean, like he actually had a significant other, not just messing around at parties like me.

I was sort of waiting for something to happen that I would want to write about more than this, but so far things have been pretty calm and it’s between writing about this and considering a personal ad in the school newsletter asking for a dude who dressed up as batman for halloween and met a girl dressed as Zelda. This is the healthier option. I’ve got to forget about that stuff.

Okay, so, two days before thanksgivng Kasumi has me doing a video with her. Actually, I asked if I could be in one. Never mind. We’re making moussaka.

Suddenly Ranma shows up wanting to know if Kasumi wants anything from the store. Long story short, I wind up in the car with him. It was a nice car. Not the luxury kind people who actually know things about cars whistle over, but the seats were comfy and the heater was good.

I said that to him. Since the silence was kind of awkward. Which maybe made him think I wanted to have a conversation, even though all I wanted was to stop feeling like we really should be trying to have a conversation.

“Was that apron your mother’s?” He asked, “The one Kasumi was wearing.”

It took me a minute to remember that the apron Kasumi was wearing had ‘Tomoko’ embroidered over the heart.

“Yes. Kasumi made it as a gift.”

“I see.”

The silence resumed, and felt even worse because I could feel the topic of mom looming before us.

Have you ever been in a situation so awkward you said something that would normally plunge you into an awkward situation, but you’re so strung out on having absolutely nothing to say that you sort of hope this will circle things back to a normal conversation? Of course not. Because you’re normal.

But me, I say to him, “So where is your mom, anyway? Your parents divorced?”

He doesn’t answer, and I think it’s too personal a question until he finally says, “Huh. I guess I have a mom…”

I burst out laughing. “What kind of answer is that?”

He shrugged, but he was smiling a little. “I don’t know. I’d believe dad had me himself if he could. I never had a mom, and he never talked about her.”

“Why?”

“What did I just say?” Ranma said, but he said it in a nice way, like we were sharing a joke.

And thus, thanks to Ranma’s non-existent, though theoretically probable mother, the awkwardness lifted for a minute, and we managed to talk about school, and food we like, and other normal things, until we were walking through the pickle aisle, and he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me in another direction.

“Don’t look,” He whispered, “My ex is behind the cranberry sauce.”

What else was I going to do? I looked. Ranma Saotome isn’t the boss of me. And I really wanted to know what a person who not only put up with him but made out with him looked like.

Their gender was kind of indeterminate, and I couldn’t get a great look at them except to say that they had long hair and were wearing a really cute sweater.

“I told you not to look!” Ranma dragged me clear over to the milk, this weird back corner where it’s a little quieter than the rest of the store.

“Let’s just stay here.” He said, like that was a great plan.

“Ranma, we came here for groceries, not to play chicken with someone you used to date.”

“You don’t understand. Ukyo hates me.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, then did it anyway. “Gee, what a surprise. Another person who hates you.”

“Hey, Ukyo used to like me.” For a split second I thought Ranma was going to show a serious emotion, forlorn, maybe, or longing, but instead he got angry, “And they still would if it wasn’t for you. I don’t want them seeing you.”

“Don’t you dare make this my fault.” I hissed at him.

Wait, I think he did manage a serious emotion: panic.“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean they might blame you, and—”

“Sure. I’ll be by the register whenever you think it’s safe to come out.” I marched off with my little basket swinging, thinking that I wouldn’t mind never seeing Ranma again.

But, since I knew that wasn’t going to happen, I wonder if I should have found Ukyo and asked them what they saw in Ranma. They dated for a long time, I think, so there must have been something they liked about him. Maybe I should have asked them what it was, instead of standing there in front of the checkout aisle, getting madder and madder until Ranma finally showed up with the car keys, outstretched a little sheepishly, like he knew he was being an idiot, but was really hoping i wasn’t going to say anything about it.

I didn’t say anything at all.

#Ranma 1/2 #rankane #fanfiction #ranma saotome #akane tendo #personal #shampoo #ryoga hibiki #ukyo kuonji #kasumi tendo #sex ment #kissing

[annashipper]

Sojourner Anon Submission

I’m in a similar situation to the Confused Anon - I’ve known about Benedict Cumberbatch since 2007 (Atonement), and had seen him in a bunch of stuff over the years prior to Sherlock, but wasn’t impressed enough with his acting to take an interest in him until Doctor Strange and TLD (it helped that he was smoking hot in both of these - scruff really does wonders for his face). Naturally my first course of action was to go on a bender through Tumblr for a couple of months, which is how I wound up on skeptic blogs. I’d seen pictures of Benedict with his wife in the past (mostly from the 2015 awards season) and I was aware that there existed a faction of fans that didn’t like her - mostly because of something that had happened to a friend of mine about two years ago.

I don’t wanna go into too many details, since I don’t want to expose her to more hate, so I’ll keep it simple: she’s a huge Benedict fan, not a UK resident but got to stay there for a while back in 2015, during which time she saw Sophie and the baby at some kind of event she (my friend, that is) attended - something that got her torn apart by the skeptics. Now, I’ve known this woman for ages. I’ll grant you that she’s a nanny, but most of her friends are, at best, very casual fans. She’s not a BNF, nor an attention-seeker or a consummate liar, so I find it truly hard to believe she’d make up something like that. There was literally nothing for her to be gained by saying she’d seen Benedict’s wife and baby (I doubt she’s on his PR’s payroll, considering she’s not someone followed by a ton of fans or anything remotely close).

I’ve seen the uncensored pap pics where you can see the face of the child being carried. His resemblance to Benedict is almost uncanny, which is saying something because Benedict doesn’t exactly have a very common face. If they really did hire someone, they did one hell of a job finding a kid who looked like the biological son of both parents.

Furthermore, I agree with what Confused Anon had to say. It’s one thing to get your friends and family to cover for you, but this is a man who’s constantly surrounded by virtual strangers that don’t owe him shit. There’s nothing stopping them from going to the press, and yet not even CDAN will publish a blind contending Benedict’s children are a lie (when it had no problems publishing such things about other celebs).

And what happens down the line, if he did create a fake family? They’re too young right now, but in a few years Benedict’s gonna be expected to discuss funny anecdotes about his children on talk shows - like that cute gifset you recently shared, with all the Marvel actors saying how their kids were embarrassed by them. You can bet your ass someone’s gonna ask Benedict what his sons think about him being Doctor Strange, and people will wonder why he’s not bringing them on set like other Marvel actors… and later, he’ll have to start regularly showing up in public with them, or gossip rags are gonna wonder aloud how come he never brings his children to any public events, like others do with theirs.

I don’t pretend to know what spurred this relationship, although I do have a theory that he panicked as he was nearing 40 with no kids and just jumped at the first opportunity to be a father, maybe hoping he’d learn to love Sophie along the way. Sadly, I’ve met couples like that IRL… but I digress. Whatever the real reason, it can’t have involved a fake pregnancy, or he would’ve said “not mine” a long time ago and jumped ship. At this point, that kind of admission would destroy his public image and career for a very long time, possibly even for good, so unless Benedict is EXTREMELY stupid - and he doesn’t come off that way to me - there’d have to be at least one child.

And yes, I’ve seen the photo collages of her pregnancy. I too have been pregnant and given birth, but unlike the rest of your mom anons, I don’t think that makes me an authority on either pregnancies or babies. No self-respecting medical professional would opine on a stranger’s pregnancy by just looking at photos, and neither should laymen who only have anecdotal evidence at their disposal. In other words, sorry, but drawing outlines on pictures isn’t how gynecologists determine pregnancy.

I’ve seen how you react to people who disagree with you, so I just wanted to say upfront that I’m not really expecting a serious answer beyond a sarcastic gif or sending me to those archives that don’t actually answer anything. My infatuation with Benedict has already begun to subside (I mean, it’s been almost six months, there’s only so long I can fangirl). I had five minutes to burn on my daily commute and that Confused Anon was something of a catalyst, so I dropped you a line. Have a great day, Anna, I hope both you and Benedict find happiness in your lives. (Please accept my apologies if this comes out too long, incoherent or misspelled; English isn’t my first or even second language).

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hi Sojourner Anon!

First off, since you’ve seen how I react to people who disagree with me, you probably already know enough to expect a serious answer from me when you’re being as cordial as you have been.  I reserve sarcasm and snark for the obviously baity Anons who’re just looking for trouble.

Anyway, as your submission has indeed come out a bit long, I’m going to try to keep this as short as possible and simply address the points you’re making in the order that you made them:

Regarding your friend and her being torn apart by Skeptics, I don’t expect you to be aware of this since you’ve only just recently discovered the Skeptical community for yourself, but we have a long standing rule about sightings.  They have to make sense (to at least be taken seriously) and they have to come with photographic evidence attached (to be believed and included in confirmed sightings).  As I don’t know what your friend saw and where, it is impossible for me to argue whether what she saw was legitimate or not.  The one sighting of Weirdo and Pilo at an event I can remember, is the one where Weirdo supposedly took (a very young) Pilo (at the time) to an Ian Mc Kellen reading, and that’s simply because there was a lot of back and forth about it being legit.  Skeptics who are much more social media savvy than I am and have far higher powers of Google Fu than I do were able to find multiple pictures from the inside of the venue and ... guess what:  No matter how many brunette women the Nans pointed to as being Weirdo, it turned out she wasn’t in the audience.  If this is not the sighting you’re alluding to, I would be more than happy to discuss this with you privately in case you’re inclined to provide me with more details.  

On the matter of your friend being torn apart by Skeptics, let me also add that I personally have never ventured outside of Tumblr for any reason whatsoever and have made it a point to try to deter my fellow Skeptics from doing so as well.  For the record, all real Skeptics know how to stay in our lane.  The ones who don’t are not considered real Skeptics (and yes, there are a number of trolls who have infiltrated the community since the beginning of this showmance and are posing as Skeptics just to make us look bad).

I’ve seen the unblurred pics of Rent-A-Pilo’s face too.  At first I had the same reaction as you did.  I thought Rent-A-Pilo looked remarkably similar to Ben and went on record saying so (on a post which I haven’t deleted, because I don’t delete posts).  Here is the LINK.  Notice how even immediately after seeing Rent-A-Pilo’s face for the first time and posting under shock I still didn’t believe Weirdo had gestated a real human baby?  I still don’t.  

Seeing how the pillows are only ever mentioned / trotted out when Daddy needs to sell a new project or Mommy throws a tantrum to get a new pap walk, I don’t believe they’re surrogate children either.  I just think they’re imaginary.  It goes hand in hand with the fact that Ben knows next to nothing about babies.  2 hour skyping sessions with a 5 month old, filthy props from a movie set being used as teethers by a 10 month old and babies eating sliced apples are only some of the things Ben doesn’t seem to understand are not the norm for children of Pilo’s age.  I won’t even mention the lack of bathtime.

I don’t think Ben is extremely stupid.  I think Ben is extremely desperate not to come off as a man who faked a relationship / engagement / wedding / pregnancy / fatherhood for an Oscar he didn’t even come close to winning because he simply chose an unstable famewhore to play the part of his red carpet girlfriend.

I have to say I’m disappointed you don’t see fit to counter any of the arguments we pose via the bump comparisons you mentioned seeing as you’ve obviously studied them.  I have been posting / reblogging / arguing using these bump comparisons as evidence that Weirdo faked the first pregnancy for the better part of the past two years and not a single Anon has ever offered a convincing counter-argument regarding how ridiculous Weirdo looked with a bump that kept inflating / deflating / changing shapes / inflating again / folding over / disappearing altogether / inflating again / staying the same size during the last trimester of that weird pregnancy.  I would really like to hear your thoughts on that if you feel inclined to have a mature back and forth about it.  Be forewarned:  arguments such as “I can’t accept anyone would be crazy enough to fake a pregnancy like that while being papped left and right” and anecdotal evidence such as “my sister’s friend’s mother’s cousin’s (twice removed) never developed breasts / never got swollen ankles / belly kept deflating / bellybutton kept popping out and in and out again, etc” won’t be taken seriously.  For obvious reasons.

I hope the above answers some of your questions about my take on this showmance and I apologise for getting a bit snarky regarding the pregnancy that never was on my last paragraph, but faking that pregnancy is a very sensitive subject for me personally.

I have a couple of very close friends who have been trying to conceive and I know how taxing it’s been on them.  Let’s just say a famewhore faking a pregnancy just to establish herself in the public eye rubs me the wrong way.  

It’s why I keep coming back to the first pregnancy (which we got to document through numerous pap walks unlike the second one), it’s why I’ll keep calling Weirdo ... weirdo and it’s why I intend on remaining an active Skeptic for the foreseeable future.

Apologies to everyone reading this blog as I think my answer to Sojourner Anon may actually be longer than her submission was.  What can I say?  I’m a rambler...

#sojourner anon #submission

[shineyma]

Amy’s note: I’ve chosen to respond to your comments in-text; my commentary is in bold. It’s just easier to keep track of that way. Plus I added a read more for obvious reasons! ;D

Alright. I’m going to start with your post regarding Daisy’s “you and Fitz belong together” to Jemma. 

I honestly can’t even consider it a thing Daisy canonically told Jemma because her overall characterization is far too good for this sort of thing. I don’t think this is something S4 Daisy would tell Jemma. It’s just a joke, another instance of bad and inconsistent writing, right up there with Jemma’s “I can’t think without Fitz.” Three and a half seasons of Jemma finding herself in much direr, more desperate and far more apocalyptic situations – where she’s had her short break-downs/freak-outs to relieve some of the tension, then went right back to work using her genius brain to provide solutions – all of that cast aside so the writers can cater to their obsession with FS. Jemma’s break-down here wasn’t consistent with her previous characterization, and to try and pin it on the trauma of what had just happened with the Fitz-bot would be a form of retconning. *sigh* 

I both agree and disagree, nonnie! I liked that Jemma had a mini-breakdown, because she has been through a lot over the last few years and that piles up. Plus, as dire as things have been for her...killing one’s own boyfriend (regardless of the fact that it’s a robot version) is pretty traumatic. So I don’t think we can really dismiss this situation as “she’s been through worse”, especially considering that it’s not just that she killed LMD Fitz, but also he attacked her. That’s gonna (or should, if not for the writers’ dislike of consequences in fs-land) leave some scars.

So I liked that she had a momentary breakdown and had trouble thinking and gave up hope. Hope hurts, Jemma knows that more than anyone, and while she’s chosen before to hold on to it and find it in bad places, well...things are looking really bad there.

That said, I would’ve liked it better if she’d just stuck to “I can’t think” and left Fitz out of it. If it’d been a breakdown about her and not a breakdown about fs, it would’ve been much better. And less jarring.

And this thing where we find two women amidst a crisis having an exchanging and most of it focusing on the one’s male love interest – all the while these women have so many traumatic and otherwise experiences in common that they could talk about – is The Flash’s Iris and Caitlin all over again. But it’s even more inexcusable and unforgivable here because it’s out of character for both Daisy and Jemma in this situation and they have they kind of long and rich and complex history together and Caitlin and Iris don’t. And on this note, nyxelestia reblogged your post and made a truly excellent and well-though addition about AOS and the treatment of Daisy/Jemma. (Oh, I’m getting angry.)

Actually, I think the saddest part is that the exchange didn’t mostly focus on Fitz. They made a plan and Jemma referenced Daisy’s need to atone and said she couldn’t lose her and they argued about what to do and so on and so forth, and then Daisy dropped that destiny crap in out of nowhere and that’s what we’re remembering. Without it, it was a really great scene. Minus the aforementioned “I can’t think without Fitz” stuff.

Anyway. Re: Brett and Ward’s return, Jed Whedon said that they wanted to bring Brett and Ward back without negating what they’ve already done with the character, and that sounds to me a lot like Brett/Ward is only going to be a temporary Framework thing – but hey, of course dream on! (Not going to lie here; this is me crushing your Ward hopes in a sort of, kind of, maybe revenge for making me do all those calculations and consider the dates and get my hopes crushed that November 8 isn’t related to F.Z.Z.T and FS. Although I’m honestly grounding my own excitement too because I also want Brett and Ward back so badly.) By the way, “I have MISSED HIS FACE and I want him to stay FOREVER” is precisely what I’m feeling about Brett and Ward’s absence. You’ve put it into words!

XD I admit that I am deserving of having my hopes crushed. But I will live in hope anyway because I like this show better when Brett’s on it. (Not to say I haven’t been enjoying s4 thus far!! I’ve actually really loved it! I just would’ve loved it even more with added Brett.)

About Framework!fic: it should definitely be the new rock!fic. That was my own immediate thought once the episode ended. The two cliffhangers are so much similar in nature, in all the possibilities they open up, that it only makes sense. So get on that! You only have, like, a month or so (…she says as if she wouldn’t read a Framework!fic a whole decade from now). Daaaazzle me as you always do! (Side note: this is just an expression of my pure and unbridled excitement over Framework!fic. No one is in no way ever to feel rushed or pressured to write anything.) Also, please never stop being a #terrible and predictable raccoon. Your #terrible and predictable raccoon…iness gives me life. This is the kind of #terrible-and-predictable-raccoon-produced content I signed up for. :3

<3 <3 <3 Thanks, nonnie!! That’s so lovely to hear! :D

And finally, onto the Framework theories!

I was personally never worried that Jemma would die because she appears to be dead in the Framework, and for a number of reasons. Firstly, there’s Elizabeth’s status as a core cast member and one half of FS. I think that if she were to be killed off, we’d strongly suspect it slash feel it coming, like with Brett. And we know how much the writers love FS. One of them dying is, I think, pretty much the only kind of drama they would not create with those two. Then there’s Jemma’s “but dying in there will definitely kill you” to Daisy. Maybe it was just me but the minute we saw Jemma’s grave in the Framework and we were thus “told” that Jemma is dead in the reality of the Framework, my brain immediately went down the path that said Jemma was dead in the Framework before her consciousness was uploaded to it, and that what she’d told Daisy about dying in the Framework resulting in death in the actual reality, only pertained to people who were uploaded in the Framework, no the made-up replicas that existed in it (e.g. Mack’s daughter, Coulson’s students, perhaps Ward etc.). So unless a time jump happened (highly unlikely considering how the Framework sequence was presented) where Jemma’s uploaded consciousness died inside the Framework, the supposedly dead Jemma is merely her replica.

See, I guess everyone else saw it coming, but Ward’s death came out of nowhere for me---and while I knew they’d kill off Hive (because aos has something against multi-season arcs, even when it means wasting amazing villains), I honestly thought they’d find some way of keeping Brett around. Maybe it was denial, I don’t know; point is, Brett being gone for good came TOTALLY out of left field for me. It left scars. So I was absolutely worried that they’d do the same with Liz. XD

Plus, I sadly don’t share your assurance that they wouldn’t kill one of fs for drama. They have a clear preference for Fitz and imagine how many episodes of him blaming himself and missing her and angsting and angsting and angsting they could squeeze out of Jemma’s death? Oh, not to mention everyone else’s lives revolving around him while never addressing that they might mourn Jemma in her own right. The writers love that stuff.

Now, re: a potential resurrection if she’s truly dead and buried there, I honestly can’t tell if the writers would go as far as to pull a Buffy or Dean with Jemma. Buffy is Joss Whedon’s show. And I think her middle name’s Anne, like Jemma’s? And her first name is Elizabeth? Also, Dean is named after his grandmother, Deanna. And he hooked up with that angle turned human turned angel again, Anna Milton, a few episodes into S4 i.e. his resurrection season, and all that about the first thing Anna heard on the “angel radio” was “Dean Winchester is saved.” (Maaaan, it’s truly dark down here in this hole. How do rabbits see? Do they have night vision? :3)

Re: the November 8 and deliberately hidden year of Jemma’s date of death, JD’s red herring theory is likely and it gives me hope and I love it. Again, I wouldn’t put it past the writers to have made the calculations necessary to connect it to F.Z.Z.T. and make it another FS-related thing instead of Let. Jemma. Have. Her. Own. Non. Fitz-related. Storyline. But there are other things to consider here before we talk about old episodes and how the date might connect to them.

First of all, we have no idea if Jemma really is dead. (Side note: we’re always talking about the Framework replica of Jemma. We’re assuming the gravestone is there at least a whole moment before our Jemma is successfully uploaded or whatever else on Earth happens.) Jemma could have faked her death for one reason or another. Or some people have theorized that the gravestone is actually the rendezvous point for Daisy and Jemma i.e. the backdoor that Jemma programmed in the Framework so she and Daisy can get out of there once their mission is complete.

Ooooooooooo, I hadn’t heard the theory that the gravestone was the backdoor! I like that one. Faking one’s death is always a classic, so I’ve loved that one since I heard it, too. (Spoiler alert: I actually have a little gifset re: that possibility scheduled for tomorrow.)

Another theory I read is that Framework Jemma is indeed dead, and that the real Jemma will simply not be uploaded and wake up to coordinate the rescue of the others with Elena from wherever Radcliffe and Aida are keeping them. I find this one highly unlikely if I’ve being honest – not dramatic enough, especially considering all the other far more spectacularly dramatic possibilities.

But in the end, before we can really work on any of the individual characters inside the Framework, we have to figure out the overall reality of the Framework. Coulson being a teacher and teaching children to fear Inhumans, May ascending in the elevator at a Triskelion with the HYDRA logo plastered on its side, Fitz as a – theorized – Tony-Stark-esque version of himself… None of that means anything unless we know the details – indeed, the World History of Framework!Earth. Is HYDRA the same evil organization that they are in reality? Certainly, the logo remains the same stupid, menacing, evil-looking octopus. But that could be for the viewers’ benefit or some other practical reason. And then, building on that, did S.H.I.E.L.D. fall? When did it fall? When did the uprising happen? Did S.H.I.E.L.D. ever exist at all? Did Captain America? Were there any World Wars at all? Is it a Nazi dystopia? The Inhumans clearly happened. But how did they happen? And is Daisy even one of them in the Framework? And so on and so forth.

My own personal theory for why May’s HYDRA: she saved that little girl in Bahrain, which we saw. So say the little girl then used her power to get May under her control....and then Hive came back and swayed the little girl, thereby getting indirect control of May. Now Hive is ruling HYDRA, Coulson fears Inhumans because they’re all swayed and doing Hive’s dirty work, and so on.

(I will freely admit that 50-60% of this theory is just grounded in me wanting Hive back. Getting Ward is amazing enough, but I’m greedy.)

Anyway, really there are way too many possibilities. We can’t even begin to guess what happened and what didn’t.

Except kind of we can, because the idea was each person plugged into the framework had a single regret changed. So anything that happened before the oldest of them (Coulson or May?) was born in the real world probably happened there too. There would need to be some kind of consistency between the worlds, otherwise the circumstances that created their regrets might never have happened, thereby denying Aida the chance to fix them, right?

So probably the World Wars happened, probably Cap existed, probably HYDRA was evil. Whether Cap’s still around, HYDRA’s still evil, etc....that’s harder to say.

Assuming we answer the above, we can work on individuals. “We are being called in,” as seen on Daisy’s phone, is a pretty good indicator of what she and Ward might be doing for a living. Could be misdirection. If it’s not, do they work for HYDRA? And again, if we don’t know what kind of organization HYDRA is and what the form of government is in general, we can’t speculate on May and her working at HYDRA – maybe even heading it.

And then we also have to decide whether Aida was immediately alerted when Daisy and Jemma uploaded themselves into the Framework, and if she made any adjustments – and to what ends. Did Aida kill Framework Jemma on purpose, to stop the real Jemma? Did she put Ward in there instead of Lincoln to do the same to Daisy? Because I could buy that some part of Daisy might have thought about Ward might have turned out like if he hadn’t been found by Garrett – if he had been found by Coulson or some other good, loyal S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Or if his family had never been abusive. So, a good Ward could have been her boyfriend of choice in the Framework, but only if Lincoln had never existed in reality. I sincerely think Daisy’s true desire is Lincoln, not Ward. And not just because she called his name and thought she would find him in her and Ward’s bed. Lincoln just makes sense, emotionally and mentally.

Re: Daisy’s boyfriend of choice, it’s been pointed out that Ward makes sense as her boyfriend in the framework because of the lack of choice. Aida mentioned in the episode that she had to keep resetting the framework when they added someone new; if Daisy had been caught and plugged in the way the others were, Aida would have adjusted things to address what ever Great Regret she thought Daisy needed fixed. But because Daisy wasn’t planned for, she just got slotted into the life her double was living as a consequence of all those other large changes. Whatever rippled out from the others’ regrets being fixed led to Daisy being with Ward; her own choice had nothing to do with it.

Because I agree, she absolutely would’ve chosen Lincoln.

So, to circle back to an earlier point, making a connection between Jemma’s date of death as seen on her gravestone and one of the old episodes is a very messy, all-over-the-place thing, because it would require this and that and the other for the circumstances that led to F.Z.Z.T. to have happened in the reality of the Framework as well.

See, as much as I like all the theories that have Jemma not dying in FZZT...I think you’re giving the writers a liiiiiiiiiittle too much credit there. I don’t know that they’d actually consider all the possible ripple effect and technicalities, not when they have the opportunity to turn it into a “I’d be dead without you!!” shipper moment.

Alright, I’m done. That’s about all I can remember that I wanted to say. Thanks, again, terribly, for letting me send this to you this way. It made the text much easier and less stressful to produce and handle (I absolutely cannot guarantee the absence of all sorts of mistakes). You’re an angel. And you can also edit it however you want, you know. Go wild! Write comments in between if you want. Delete stuff. Add jokes.

You’re welcome, nonnie! <3

P.S. Yes, I have indeed made the submission essentially anonymous. In the words of Steve Rogers: “Internet. So helpful.” Especially when you suffer from crippling shyness. Which I hate. Because it makes my life unnecessarily difficult and impossible.

I totally feel you, nonnie. I have horrible social anxiety and 99% of the messages I send to non-mutual blogs (and, honestly, even them sometimes) are sent on anon. I don’t blame you at all!

Thanks again so much. ❤ ❤ ❤

And also, yay for the Framework!fic you’re making progress on!

My excuse for posting this at 1AM: I finished and posted the fic! Yay?

#amy communicates #anonymous #my nonnies are the best nonnies #i'm way too tired to reread everything i've written here so fingers crossed that it's coherent! #and also friendly because i disagreed with a couple of your points #i hope i don't sound rude and/or condescending #if i do it was NOT my intention #just my exhaustion getting the better of me #aos spoilers #submission