cradle valley

Hitched (5/11)

a Captain Swan AU fan fiction

Summary:  After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.

Rating: M or MA; some profanity and sex scenes.

Cover art: created by the absolutely fabulous @thesschesthair!!

Links: // ao3 // ch. 1 //  ch. 2 // ch. 3 // ch. 4 // ch. 6 // ch. 7 // ch. 8 // ch. 9 // ch. 10 // epilogue

(also @teamhook, @like-waves-on-the-beach, @lenfaz and @followbatb, thank you thank you thank you for reading and requesting tags!)



The light faded from the southwestern sky with the setting of the sun, and the cab grew dark once more as they zipped into the western half of Pennsylvania. Emma finished her favorite old book just in time; the moon had begun to rise against a pale blue sunset when she closed the pages, smiling absurdly at the happy ending she had fully known was coming.

Jones, meanwhile, had quietly turned on a public radio station and was listening to the news. Emma reached down to tuck the book back into her bag and shifted to comfortably lean against the window. They had briefly passed through part of the Appalachian mountains, where snow-dotted hills soared above a freeway cradled in the valleys and folds of the range. She had been through the southern Rockies more than once, and had seen pictures of the Alps, but even knowing there were bigger mountains out there she still found herself comforted and slightly awed by the long, uninhabited stretches of trees marching up and down into the horizon.

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anonymous asked:

#15 with Baron Corbin please

15: “I don’t want to get up — you’re too comfy.”

You were sitting on the couch flipping through channels with a sigh, you were waiting for Baron to come home after he was suspended. He had already been gone for three weeks and you were ready to see your boyfriend.

You must’ve drifted off because you woke up to a heavy weight on your chest. Looking down at your chest, you smiled softly seeing Baron fast asleep with his head cradled in the valley between your breasts.

You ran your hand through his hair gently as you pulled a blanket from the couch over the both of you. You slowly closed your eyes and felt yourself drift back off to sleep.

“Babe, babe wake up” Baron said softly, you groaned and looked down at him with a smile “hey” you whispered quietly leaning down to kiss him. “Thanks for waking me up, we should probably get ready for dinner” you whispered looking at the time. “I don’t wanna get up, you’re too comfy” Baron groaned as he hid against your chest more causing you to laugh.

Immortal Pt. 1

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

Pt.1// Pt.2

{!} Contains Violence, Language, Smut


Genre: Angst, Smut

Kim Taehyung x Reader (Featuring: Members of BTS) Vampire AU

Summary: {You would have much rather been a human, but you weren’t giving much of a choice when it was the only solution Taehyung could come up with at the moment. Now you found yourself in a community crawling with vampires and at the brink of war.} 

[I’ve decided to make them more human-like so things like the sun can’t hurt them, garlic…please. I gave them hearts so don’t mistake them for those old vampire stories. They’re my own kind of vampire.]

Throwing the last bit of twigs on the fire, Kim Taehyung plopped down on the fallen tree that had conveniently found itself around the lake. The sun had long set behind the hills surrounding the small valley that cradled the town of Grim Hallow. The sky began to blacken, only lit by the twinkling stars and a moon that engulfed the dark, clear canopy.

Stick in hand, Taehyung poked at the flames watching them leap up as if they were performing. So far this get together was a bust. All the usual suspects were there. Kim Seokjin, making rounds around the perimeter as if he was expecting someone to ambush them. Park Jimin trekked back toward the fire with a bucket of water. Jeon Jungkook lost in thought as he watched the dancing embers in the flames. Last, but not least, was Min Yoongi, scrolling through recent gossip on whatever social network he found interesting at the time on his cell phone. �

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About a boy who never stopped smiling

I suppose it doesn’t matter who reads this.

There are words; more of them, screaming to escape onto the pages before me.

Call it a mid-life crisis that has led me to write the words being penned, or a memory flashing before me of time that sits precariously between being a distant memory and a recent timeline of events.

The smile upon my face as a child was real; unadulterated. A smile that reached the eyes. It remained a constant through my days at school, a concrete jungle surrounded by heavily polluted air in Delhi, through the vast expanses of a high-school located by a beach in Hobart and finally an academic institution of repute in Sydney.

Delhi’s heat isn’t the worst in the world. It’s the pollution that saps you of all energy. Classrooms filled with fifty students with teachers emphasising rote learning and rushing at the opportunity to punish students that failed to comply with a loud slap or two across the face was the norm.

It didn’t matter to me; the slaps across the face or their loud voices in front of the entire class, with a view to embarrass me just enough to shed a tear or two and fall into line.

Classroom hours were 8.30 till 3.30; Monday to Saturday. Perhaps I was an outlier even back then, not fitting in with the teachers’ desires to having sheep as students. I dreamt during those days of being free; free from the chains and free from rules. Classroom hours were spent in the sun or feeling the rains, running through the muddy school grounds.

Complaints were made to my parents on a weekly basis, as if on cue compounded with detentions every other day. It didn’t matter. They wouldn’t take my smile.


It’s the cold in Hobart that hits you at first. Even if the day begins, blessed with sunshine, it turns on you like a woman scorned.

The teachers smiled at me, but not a welcoming smile. I was an unexpected visitor. I smiled back. Schools were different here. There were playgrounds with soft grass and school was Monday to Friday.

I smiled at the teachers as I passed them in the corridor and the other students who continued to stare at me. The stares only lasted a few weeks before the insults began and soon they had turned into punches across the face. They took turns.

The teachers didn’t notice and when they did, blamed me for arguing. I smiled and accepted the punishment.

At home, I told them I played sport and hurt myself; a necessity for a growing boy trying to make friends. Lies; delivered with a smile.

I continued to dream, running through the grounds on my own as some continued to stare and others chased to bring me down to the turf. I continued to dream as my feet sunk into the sands kissing the Derwent River.

I wasn’t crazy; not then and not today. There were tears, falling upon my own flesh and hidden from sight and never even in front of a mirror.

To the world; I smiled. I dreamt. And I smiled.

The world turned as my foot met a football; first the left and then the right. Born ambidextrous and it being witnessed by those who wanted to see me fall marked a new day.

Hands were extended in admiration. Apologies spoken in embarrassment or for personal benefit. It didn’t matter.

My dreams held tighter than ever and a belief maintained. I still smiled.



I wasn’t alone here. A small world in its own right, with faces from across the globe having been placed in an institution for the remaining two years of high-school.

I greeted the other new students with a smile, establishing common interests with enthusiasm.

The books filled out bags, tearing them at the seams, until I abandoned mine, leaving them in the confines of my vandalised locker. Academic success remained a driving factor to maintain the school’s position.

Everyone was a number; a mere statistic, even me.

I held onto my dreams, spending more time outside the confines of the building, cradled in between the valley of Northbridge over a cricket field. Hours were spent in football fields, studying a ball travelling through the air, instead of the complex calculations on the blackboard.

The teachers complained here too. I still smiled.

Success was relative; a score to confirm entrance into University for some. For others it was confirmation of their hard work and some a stepping stone to their career dreams.
For me it was a necessity to satisfy parental expectations.

I continued to dream of a life with more.

I smiled at my result and my parents’ approval.

A lot of the memories remain to this day, somewhat hazy, having been lost in the smiles forever upon my lips.

School has been left behind, but not forgotten.

Held closer have been the dreams and the smile which sits upon my lips as I turn to the next chapter.

Keep dreaming and smile is what I tell myself.

This is about a boy who refused to stop smiling.

This is me.

Dark hills against a hollow crocus sky
Scarfed with its crimson pennons, and below
The dome of sunset long, hushed valleys lie
Cradling the twilight, where the lone winds blow
And wake among the harps of leafless trees
Fantastic runes and mournful melodies.
—  L.M. Montgomery
Investigating the Falls

Paranormal Investigator James Gallucio, PhD, had come to Gravity Falls to investigate the history of ‘a little town just west of weird’.

He’s not quite sure what he expected.

Based on this prompt:

On AO3 // On

James Gallucio, PhD,  had been researching the supernatural for years. It wasn’t the easiest career path, especially before the Transcendence hit and anyone who studied the paranormal was considered odd, at best.

Tall and lanky and clumsy, with thick glasses, James had always been on the receiving end of taunting and the stereotype of 'nerd’, and his hobbies didn’t help matters any.

But James was stubborn, and determined to find out the truth. They could laugh at him all they liked, but he knew of at least one man in his field who’d gotten a government grant to study the paranormal, and he was determined to keep working despite his detractors. Who knew, maybe it would happen for him.

Then the Transcendence happened. All over the world, in the blink of an eye, the paranormal was out in plain sight, unable to hide, and demanding their basic human rights, and people like James were suddenly needed.

But even though he was suddenly respected, needed, and looked to, at least somewhat, James just wasn’t satisfied. Half of the excitement of his job had been in the danger, in people’s disbelieving reactions, in the chase after something no one else understood.

There were dozens, if not hundreds, of people studying the paranormal now. James needed a challenge, something new.

Of course, there were dozens of new species to study now, and many of them incredibly dangerous.

So when the offer came, James jumped on it. So now, in the fourteen years since the Transcendence, James had done a documentary on as many as he could find the least verifiable information on.

Now James was looking for something new to document, something dangerous, something little was known about, something that would really get his name out there.

Then, he had a flash of inspiration.

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