Welcome to 21st century, Buck. Part 2.
There’s celebrities you admire and then there’s that one. That little shit. That life ruiner that could strap ravenous tigers to their feet and use my spine as a catwalk and I’d still probably get down on my knees and thank them profusely for the opportunity.
His hand shakes harder than her own as he struggles to wrap the blankets fully around her, blue eyes narrowed in concentration (and fear - god, so much fear it claws at the inside of her chest) as he tucks it under her arms. He hasn’t said a word to her yet besides murmured nonsense against her hair and even if he had -
she’s still too cold to acknowledge anything but that.
She can’t focus or think beyond the rattling inside her bones, beyond the ice that has seeped into her very soul. She knows she must look terrible because there had been nothing but tense silence when they found her, curled against the floor of Elsa’s makeshift refuge, doing her damnedest to conserve body hear. Fingertips had pressed gently against the side of her neck and then they were moving - the cold metal of a hook turned deliciously warm, given the comparison.
(She remembers pressing her face into his chest - inhaling the salty sweet smell of leather and spice.)
(She remembers her name - a broken whisper against her forehead - and soft lips.)
(She remembers come back to me, gods love, please.)
He’s staring at her in silent appraisal, mapping out his handiwork with the blankets, no doubt considering how he could possibly get another added to the small mound atop her. But it seems he’s already depleted the loft’s storage - and sent Henry and her father off for more - leaving the two of them alone in the too-quiet loft.
(She can practically hear the beating of her heart, and wonders if he can too.)
(His fingers keep time with it atop the blankets, and it makes her breathe out a sigh of relief.)
She wants to take his hand, but she can’t move her fingers.
She wants to tell him it’s okay, but the words stick in her throat.
His eyes shift from the blankets to her and she sighs, her blood warming at the tenderness in his gaze. She blinks at him quietly, lips tilting at the corners, and he shakes his head.
“You’re a difficult woman to care for, Swan.” But his own lips are curling upwards and she knows she’s forgiven when his thumb runs along her eyebrow. She chases the touch because he’s so warm, pressing her skin into his and trying not to seem too eager. But it seems she fails because he gives a soft chuckle and cups her face, his thumb traveling down across the bridge of her nose, over her bottom lip. He maps her features with a gentle touch and the warmth blossoms and grows - her body finally relaxing it’s rigid hold and sinking into the cushions.
“I don’t suppose this is a moment in which we could partake in your net fixed, hm?”
She grins beneath the blankets and shifts. “Netflix.” She supplies with a half-hearted roll of her eyes, pleased with the way he grins down at her. She likes the way he looks hovering above her, thumb still tracing gently back and forth, eyes so blue in the dim light of the fireplace. “And I’ve got nothing better to do.”
He snorts. “You sure know how to flatter a man, love.”
(He gets up with a start before she can even pick out a movie, disappearing into the kitchen with a furrow between his brow. When he returns with a timid expression and a cup of jello, the rest of the ice melts away.)
(It’s cherry, and it tastes perfect combined with pirate.)
BK DID THE THING
For those who are curious, this is how my bedroom/bathroom looks 365 days out of the year. :) Yes, it’s my ACTUAL bedroom. And I’m proud to say, I decorated it all myself. I don’t just have a blog about Halloween, I LIVE it. It’s my inspiration. Much like this blog, Halloween is every day of the year in my world.
what if one day for 24 hours everyone with a tumblr turned into whatever their url is
We know that’s true
To cheer me up, I’m reblogging this!
HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HE USED HIS REMAINING STRENGTH TO FREE HER… THIS IS HOW YOU OTP
YOUR OTP COULD NEVER
I often see things online about how Eugene should have waited to be saved, then cut her hair, or that he shouldn’t have cut as much, etc. but I feel like those people are missing the entire point.
Ok first of all, Eugene had waited for Rapunzel to heal him, who knows what would have happened, because Mother Gothel could have come and taken her away immediately. He instead makes the selfless decision with the little bit of strength that he has, to risk his own life in order to save Rapunzel. But more importantly: Eugene was selfish his entire life - mainly because nobody was ever looking out for him. He grew up poor and in an orphanage, so he had to be selfish in order to survive, which is why he turned to thieving. This moment is the moment where everything changes. It is the one time in his life that he puts someone else first.
Second: The symbolism behind the fact that he cuts her hair should tell you everything. All of Rapunzel’s life the only person who she ever knew to love her, didn’t actually love her, but she loved her hair. Gothel was always shown looking, talking to and kissing Rapunzel’s hair, and not really ever Rapunzel herself. Eugene, on the other hand, fell in love with Rapunzel the PERSON. He saw her as another human being, and he saw her heart. That is why he cut her hair - her hair didn’t matter to him because the magic was INSIDE her. He knew that and thus knew that even as he died, she would live a happy life because of how beautiful she is on the inside.
Also if you notice, several times throughout the film he pulls Rapunzel’s hair out of her face, he doesn’t care about the hair, he cares about her! Man, I honestly think Tangled has one of the best Disney love stories! In my opinion it’s up there with Beauty and the Beast, and Pocahontas.
other fandoms may come and go but Harry Potter will always be there in the shadows. watching. lurking. never letting you forget its perpetual hold on your existence.
WARNING: DO NOT FALL IN LOVE WITH EMMA SWAN OR
“Well, you should know by now the one thing I excel at is surviving”