anonymous asked:

My theory: TS loves KK, KK is really w JK, ts went to far at 1975 , pulled way back , started dating CH to prove to herself she is straight (thats why its so over the top), passive aggressively started undoing her "special " friendship w KK and kk will continue to fade away from TS. Gg is her new Kk.

Hmmm, I can see where you’re coming from. There’s logic to each step in your theory and it seems plausible at the macro level, but when you look closer the details don’t add up.  

Your theory doesn’t explain:

  • Torlie
  • Swiftgron and Taymily
  • Karlie continually forgetting JK
  • If it was just Taylor who went too far during kissgate, how comes Karlie was so comfortable and familiar with all the PDA?
  • And why was she all over Taylor when her boyfriend was there?
  • The way Karlie looks at Taylor as if she’s her entire world
  • All the public appearances in early 2015 (the Brits, the Naked Heart Foundation fundraiser, the Oscar De La Renta show etc.)
  • Karlie being in Bad Blood and having (for lack of a better term) the gayest scene
  • Karlie being one of a handful of friends who went to the dinner party in May
  • Using a video of Karlie talking about Taylor at each of the 1989 world tour shows
  • Karlie appearing at three 1989 tour shows
  • Taylor rearranging the group at Hyde Park so she could stand next to Karlie and then reaching for her hand as they walked back
  • Karlie flying straight from Rome
  • Taylor ordering her security to get Karlie to her as quickly as possible
  • Karlie’s support during the 5th wheel and birthday fiascos
  • Kristine’s use of #Kaylor

Those are just the things that came straight to my head. I’m sure if I sat and thought about it for a while I could write a lot more. They may not be seen together much, but when they are their relationship looks as solid as ever. They’ve gone underground, but there have been plenty of opportunities for Taylor to exclude Karlie and get people used to the idea they’re no longer super close (if that were the case) but that hasn’t happened. At each of the 1989 tour shows, Taylor has shown Karlie some special attention, rather than distancing herself, and Karlie’s heart eyes have been off the chart. 

And when you look at Taylor and Gigi together compared to Taylor and Karlie, Kaylor is another league. You can’t replace Karlie.

Variety: “Hannibal also made Alana (Caroline Dhavernas) a fairly ominous promise about her future, leading her to take Margot (Katharine Isabelle) and their son and get the hell out of dodge, proving she’s pretty much the only sensible person on the show. Did you foresee Hannibal keeping that promise in season four, or for Alana and Margot to live happily ever after?”

Fuller: “It certainly was going to be a part of season four, and I actually was really excited about exploring the Margot/Alana relationship and how they were going to dismantle all of the Verger slaughterhouses and turn them humane. She was going to completely undo the evils of her family with Alana, like a Joan Crawford sitting at PepsiCo’s table saying ‘don’t f–k with me, fellas.’ I was really excited about that story for Alana and Margot and seeing more of them, and also seeing what it would be like for them to realize that Hannibal might be coming back into their orbit.”


anonymous asked:

Prompt for your consideration : Missing year OQ , Regina brings something back that belonged to Henry, she has it in her at all times, or near by. When it's misplaced she panics and breaks. Please and thank you :)

oh, Nonnie. That is a quality prompt.

She can’t bear to watch the yellow Bug drive away, so she turns her back on the town line. Regina raises her hands to the oncoming cloud of green smoke, answering its powerful magic with her own. Undoing the most glorious magic she’d ever created, the magic that proved to be her downfall. Somehow she’s always known it would end like this. Since the day her mother had taken Daniel from her, she’s known that she wasn’t meant for happy endings. As the swirling green and purple engulfs them, she jams her hands in her pockets, trying to keep herself from turning around, from using her magic to call back her son, from destroying them all in an attempt not to lose the only person in all the realms who loves her. Her fingers brush a small, hard object, and she pulls it out of her pocket. Henry’s lucky red and white marble lays in her palm. He must have slipped it into her coat when he hugged her goodbye. Regina’s eyes well with tears as she closes her fist around her son’s most prized possession. 

In a matter of seconds, it’s over; the curse that had taken centuries to plan and enormous sacrifice to enact is undone, and Regina is left standing in a meadow, clad in the heavy clothes and heavier mantle of the Evil Queen. All traces of the mayor are gone - all except for the marble, still clutched in her hand. She tucks it into the bodice of her dress, feeling the cool glass pressing against her heart.


For the first month, she takes her heart out every night before she goes to sleep. It’s the only way she can drift off - once the sun has gone down and the castle is quiet, she can’t shut out the memories of Henry as a baby, then as a little boy, begging her to kiss his boo-boos and make them better or asking her to read him a bedtime story. She gently places her heart in a wooden box next to her bed, then tucks the marble in next to it. She thinks what’s left of the red in her heart glows a little bit brighter once the marble touches it, but she knows she’s kidding herself. The longer she’s here, the longer she struggles to find a way to defeat her sister, the blacker her heart will become. Eventually, it will shrivel up into nothingness, and the Evil Queen will be gone.

Regina looks forward to that day.


She has a shadow around the castle. A little boy, with tousled brown locks and cheery dimples, who follows behind her as she paces the hallways. When she looks back to find him there, she can’t help but laugh at how he imitates her walk, her posture, even her facial expression. When he sees her smile, he smiles too, and waves happily at her. She waves back. His father might be a cocky pain in the ass, but Roland, the thief’s son, is a darling little boy. She can’t help but love him. 

He sits next to her at every meal and peppers her with questions about the other land. She tells him about all the things that Henry loved as a little boy, and sometimes she does more than that. When his eyes grew wide at the explanation of ice cream, she conjured a bowl out of thin air. He wound up wearing more than he ate, but every night, he requests more. She’s only too happy to oblige. 

His father sits on Roland’s other side. She ignores him for the most part, still embarrassed and unsure of herself after letting him see so much of her weakness, but every now and then she deigns to answer his questions. Everyone else tiptoes around the subject of Henry, but Robin does not. He asks what flavor of ice cream was Henry’s favorite, what comic books did Henry enjoy, what was Henry’s first word. 

Mama. Henry’s first word was Mama. She fingers the marble tucked into a pocket in her cloak and remembers her chubby little son, slapping his hands on his high chair, calling for her. She can’t bear the thought of it, so she pushes herself away from the table and sweeps out of the dining room. 

When she gets back to her room, she stares at the wooden box beside the bed. She drops the marble in, and her hand hovers over her chest. She can’t quite bring herself to remove her heart, though; as painful as her memories are, she doesn’t want to stop feeling what she felt the first time he called her name. Her heart beats faster and stronger, and she’s overwhelmed with love for her lost son. She sinks onto her bed, and for the first time since they’ve returned to this land, she allows herself to cry for her loss.

She wakes in the middle of the night, sensing a presence in her room. Her hand flies up, almost of its own accord, conjuring a fireball. “Show yourself,” she commands, expecting to see her green sister lurking in the corners of her room.

A small whimper echoes through her chambers, and she realizes that Roland has snuck in. She immediately changes the fireball to a candle. He’s clutching the post of her footboard, eyes wide in fear.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she says gently, “but you should never sneak up on a queen. Even if you are the bravest of the Merry Men.”

His face lights up at that, and she tries not to laugh. Little boys are so easy to placate. She pats the bed next to her. “Come on up here, my little hero, and tell me what you’re doing here.”

He climbs up on the bed and settles himself against her side. She’s touched that he shows no fear, even after she almost incinerated him. Even now, when she’s working with Snow and Charming to neutralize this new threat to the kingdom, most of the people in the castle still look at her as the Evil Queen, waiting for the day when her patience runs out and she destroys them all. This little boy, though, thinks she hung the moon. She puts an arm around him and hugs him closer.

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, his voice quivering a little bit.

“Why would I be mad?” she asks. “You’re my friend. I could never be mad at you.”

He studies her with his big brown eyes. “You left dinner without saying good night. You always say good night.”

“Oh, Roland,” she says, pressing a kiss to his brow. “I was sad at dinner. But just because I’m sad sometimes doesn’t mean that I’m mad at you. It just means that sometimes I need to be by myself.”

“You can be by yourself with me,” he says resolutely, and she laughs.

“Yes, I suppose I can,” she agrees. “Now, it’s past your bedtime. Shall I take you back to your papa?”

Roland shakes his head, his curls bobbing with the movement. “I’m staying here with you. I have to protect you.”

He reminds her so much of Henry that Regina loses her breath. “All right,” she says finally. “But if your papa gets mad at me, I’m going to tell him that it was your idea.” She tickles his side as she speaks, and he giggles. The sound is like music to her ears, and she’s glad she left her heart in its chest. She nods off not long after he does. 

The sound of glass clinking together wakes her, and she pries open an eye to see Roland, perched at her vanity, rearranging glass bottles in order from smallest to largest. Various lotions and perfumes, and the decanter of wine she keeps to dull the pain when she can’t sleep. “What are you doing?” she murmurs. 

“I’m fixing it,” he says, his little brow knit in concentration.

She looks out to the balcony. The sun has barely started cresting over the horizon. She’d better get him back to his father before he sends out a search party. 

“Come on, you little thief,” she says as she pulls herself out of the bed and throws a cloak over her shoulders. “Let’s go find your papa.”

She doesn’t have to go far. He’s storming through the grand hall when she and Roland arrive, hand in hand. His shoulders sag when he sees them. “I should have known,” he chuckles. 

“I found him in my room last night,” she says, and can’t help adding in her haughtiest tone, “Your son is a much better bandit than you are.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Robin agrees. “I trust he didn’t disturb you?”

She opens her mouth to answer, but Snow’s call interrupts her.

“Regina,” her stepdaughter shouts, “I need your help.”

She sighs and pushes Roland to his father. “Go with your papa,” she says gently. “You have a lot of work to do, guarding the castle today.” He nods solemnly and gives her a little bow before he scampers off. A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth; a smile that his father returns when she looks up at him. She dismisses him with a wave, and he bows, just as his son did.

Snow grabs her hand. “Ruby’s gone missing,” she says, and her voice is frantic with worry. “It was a full moon last night. Regina, please. We have to find her.”

Surely a werewolf can take care of herself. Regina starts to argue, but the terror in Snow’s eyes stops her. “Take a deep breath,” she says, and Snow gulps down some air. “Bring me something of hers, down to the vault. I have a locator potion down there.” 

Snow nods, and before Regina can step away, she engulfs her stepmother in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I knew I could count on you.”

Well, that’s new. Still, she can’t bring herself to let Snow down, not after all they’ve been through. So she trudges down to the vault, not looking at her mother’s empty crypt. Another loss, but this one easier to bear over time. 


They find Ruby at the edge of the forest, sound asleep underneath a tree. She’s got some traces of blood on her lips, and she’s surrounded by feathers and a few tufts of fur. Whatever she got into the night before, it’s apparent that she was the victor. Snow shakes her awake, and she rouses easily.

“Big night?” Regina asks, a little sarcasm creeping into her voice.

Ruby pats her stomach. “We had some winged visitors in the castle. Unfortunately for them, the wolf was hungry.”

“I suppose we should thank you,” Regina says.

“I suppose you should,” Ruby snaps back. “I caught this one just outside your rooms. Turns out, if you take a chunk out of their wings, they don’t fly so well.” She looks smug, which is more than a little disconcerting considering that she’s still wearing some remnants of the monkey on her face. Regina nods and helps her up, and together the three of them make their way back to the relative safety of the castle.

When they arrive, Charming is pacing. “You’re back,” he announces. Yes, thank you, Prince Obvious, she thinks, but she holds her tongue. “The Merry Men have gone to scout the borders of the grounds, looking to see if anyone else breached our defenses last night. 

“We should go and help,” Snow says, but Regina has had her fill of being helpful for one day.

“They can take care of themselves,” she snaps. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go get dressed.” She waves down to the cloak that’s still covering her thin cotton nightgown. Snow nods and squeezes her hand.

“Thank you,” she whispers. Regina squeezes back. It’s as close to affection as she can give.

It’s past mid-day when she gets back to her room. She sheds her cloak and nightgown and rummages through her wardrobe, thinking longingly of the simple sheath dresses and pantsuits of Storybrooke. She selects a black corset and a skintight pair of leather pants. The uniform of the Evil Queen. A delicately embroidered purple cape finishes the ensemble. She toys at the pocket in the cape. A few quick steps to the table by her bed, where her most prized possession rests.

The box is empty.

She yanks the cape she wore yesterday out of the wardrobe, but the pocket is empty. The cape falls from her hands. She upends the table, looking to see if the marble has somehow rolled from the box, but it’s not on the floor. Not tangled up in the sheets on her bed. Not in her jewelry box. It’s just…gone.

A deep, heaving breath escapes her lips. Henry has been ripped from her yet again, and she can’t bear losing the last small piece she has of him. She crumples to the floor and sobs until her eyes go dry and her head aches. Still, she remains curled up in a ball against her bed. She has no reason to get up; no reason to keep fighting. The last part of her son is gone.

The moon is high in the sky, casting grim shadows across her chambers, when she hears footsteps at her door. A soft knock follows. 

“Go away,” she slurs. 

The door opens, and the thief slips inside. He takes in the sight of her, curled up next to her bed, an empty decanter of wine at her feet.

“I said go away,” she snaps. He ignores her. He always ignores her requests. She should punish him, she thinks. Send a fireball right to that smug look on his face and watch it melt away. She lifts her right hand to cast a fireball, but she can’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she flips him a middle finger, a rude gesture that got Henry a week’s worth of grounding when he did it to Archie at one of their sessions.

Flipping the bird is unheard of in the Enchanted Forest. It’s a pity; yet another insult she’s hurled his way that the stupid thief doesn’t understand. He pads across the room and sinks down next to her on the floor.

“ Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” he asks. He picks up the empty decanter and sniffs. “And what you’ve done with Granny’s strongest brew?”

“I do indeed mind,” she sniffs with disdain. “Your son is welcome here. You are not.”

“Yes, well, finding myself in places where I’m unwelcome is my greatest talent,” he says with a grin. He takes in the shambles of her room. “Trashing your possessions seems to be yours. Do you want to tell me what that’s about?”


He looks at her steadily. “I think you do,” he says softly.

She snorts, an unladylike sound if ever there was one. Cora is no doubt spinning in her grave, back in Storybrooke. “What makes you think you know me so well?”

“Well, for starters, I’d be charred to a crisp if you didn’t,” he says as he cups her right hand in his. “And also, because after all this time, I’d like to think that you know you can talk to me. Even if you don’t want to talk to anyone else.”

It’s the feel of his hand on hers that cracks her resolve. A simple touch, asking for nothing in return, just offering a small bit of comfort. A stroke of his thumb against the back of her hand.

“I lost something,” she says softly. “Again. I’m always losing things. Bigger and bigger things, until I have nothing left to lose.”

He closes his eyes at that and brings her hand up to his lips. “Regina,” he says, and she fights against the urge to correct him. Your Majesty - she’s earned that title, and the thief should show respect, not sit her next to her and coddle her as if she’s a child. “As long as you’re alive, you’ll always have things to lose. That’s what being alive is.”

“In that case, I’m done. Get those damn arrows I gave you and put me out of my misery.”

He laughs at that. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says. “Those arrows are my most prized possession, aside from my son. I certainly wouldn’t waste on on you.” As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he grimaces, realizing the implied insult. “I didn’t mean that,” he says softly.

“Of course you did,” she snaps. “I am a waste. A waste of chances. A waste of fortunes. A wasted life.”

“I don’t agree. And neither does my son. And neither does yours.”

She barks a hollow laugh at that. “My son doesn’t even remember me,” she says. 

“But you remember him,” he says. “And I believe this,” and he pulls a small, round object out of his satchel, “belongs to him. To you.”

Henry’s marble. Her fingers close around it, and she almost starts to cry again at feeling the smooth glass against her skin. She raises it to her lips. “Where did you find it?” she whispers.

“It seems my son is indeed a better thief than I am,” he laughs. “He’ll be along tomorrow to apologize for taking what doesn’t belong to him. In the meantime, I thought you would be missing it.”

“How did you know?” she asks.

“I’ve seen the way you hold it when you’re upset. The way you fiddle with it in the pocket of your cloak when you think nobody is watching. Believe it or not, Regina, I pay attention to what you do.”

“Why?” she asks. For the life of her, she can’t imagine why the thief cares about anything she does.

He looks down at his hands and shrugs. “That is a question for another day, when you’re feeling better. For now, let’s get you off this floor, yeah?”

She allows him to help her up and unfasten the heavy cape at her shoulders. He guides her to the bed and pulls the quilt up over her shoulders. 

“I’ll be back in the morning,” he promises.

“Not necessary,” she says.

“No,” he agrees. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then another. “Not necessary at all, but I’ll be here nonetheless.” He turns to leave, but she calls out to him.

“Robin,” she says, and his eyes bore into hers. “Thank you. For…everything.”

His eyes crinkle up. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She fights back a laugh at that.

“Until tomorrow, milady,” he says, and shuts the door softly behind him.

Until tomorrow, she thinks. She rolls the marble between her thumb and index finger, the warmth from her hand transferring to the glass. Until tomorrow.

millsdottir asked:

Thorki. #16. For your fic meme thingy :)

Things you said with no space between us.

“This armor has three weak spots.” Loki announces haughtily, voice only slightly out of breath as his fingers work on undoing the straps and buckles of said armor, with speed born out of centuries of practice.

Thor stills, his lips stretching into a wide smile against the skin of Loki’s neck. This armor actually has four weak spots, but Thor has long since accepted that complete truth is something Loki will never offer him freely.

“Is that concern I hear?” Thor murmurs, amused, his voice somewhat muffled by the press of his lips against Loki’s neck. He does not bother to look up, greedy for the taste of Loki’s skin after months of separation, his impatient fingers not nearly as certain as Loki’s as they fumble with ridiculously intricate fastenings of Loki’s outer armor.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thor.” Loki snorts, still sounding far too collected for Thor’s taste. Not for long, though. Loki may spin lies and half-truths, and wear mask upon mask, but Thor can coax the truth out of him – with his lips and fingers Thor can strip Loki of his lies as he does with the layers of leather his brother wears. “It is merely an observation.”

His lips drawing into a smirk, Thor fists the leather encasing Loki’s chest, the sound of fabric tearing followed by a soft gasp of surprise.

“See, Loki?” Thor points out, not bothering to hide the smugness in his voice. Or raise his head, now that he has the entire expanse of Loki’s naked chest to explore. “It appears your armor has its own failings.”

Loki’s fingers abandon their work on Thor’s armor, tangling in Thor’s hair instead, and forcing Thor to look up.

“That was rather unnecessary display of arrogance, Thor.” Loki admonishes, but the bite in his voice is countered by the glazed, half-lidded look of his eyes. Thor’s fingers move down to Loki’s hips, squeezing hard. Loki’s hips buck forward, grinding against Thor’s thigh, eliciting a groan from Thor. Loki is already half-hard, they both are, and the chances they will make it to the bed are slim to non-existent. “Do you know there are three types of venom in Alfheim alone, easily obtainable by anyone with half a brain and skill, that could kill even you?”

Thor chuckles, bringing their foreheads together. They have not seen each other in half a year, half a year during which Thor had numerous times contemplated scouring the realms for his wayward brother from sheer frustration, and this is Loki’s idea of a lover’s greeting.

“And how many types of venom lethal to me do you already have in your possession?” Thor asks under his breath, his lips brushing lightly against Loki’s.

Loki stays silent, but the smirk on his lips widens as they part under Thor’s.

you’re taking over me like a disease,
a conqueror without stay and mercy.
dismantle, disembowel me, dismiss
my fears and hopes, and wreck me
like a boat
a roaring sea.

undress my wounds. on my uneven skin
erase my scars and grant me brand new ones.
undo my memories. strip me to very bones.
I’m giving in.

expose me to the light and see - untamed,
unfinished, flawed. if you are to subdue
me - simply call by name, but say, if you
can take me as I am?

(Written and submitted by callmeisolde)

Q: Hannibal also made Alana (Caroline Dhavernas) a fairly ominous promise about her future, leading her to take Margot (Katharine Isabelle) and their son and get the hell out of dodge, proving she’s pretty much the only sensible person on the show. Did you foresee Hannibal keeping that promise in season four, or for Alana and Margot to live happily ever after?

A: It certainly was going to be a part of season four, and I actually was really excited about exploring the Margot/Alana relationship and how they were going to dismantle all of the Verger slaughterhouses and turn them humane. She was going to completely undo the evils of her family with Alana, like a Joan Crawford sitting at PepsiCo’s table saying “don’t f–k with me, fellas.” I was really excited about that story for Alana and Margot and seeing more of them, and also seeing what it would be like for them to realize that Hannibal might be coming back into their orbit.

tonight i watched the strings inside you
tangle and tumble to the brink.
i watched the violet dusk
as all my lies came true. 
oh, please forgive me
for all i never told you.
forgive me, for at least 
my heart was true.

(your eyes remind me of the sunrise
but the light’s too bright for my bloodshot eyes.)

you see, i pretend to be fearless
but i am afraid all of the time,
of the night, of the heights
of the way you hold my hand.
my love, i wish i could make myself anew.
i wish i could be worthy of you.
but i don’t quite know why–
undoing is all i can do.

(i hope you don’t miss me too much.
i hope you fall in love with someone new.)

—  if you should wake and find me gone, Amrita C.

-hate , loves, lies- pt 3  

after Charmin got that video from her x she soon gave her call after ,Charmin x gf had ask if she wanted her car back, with a angry mumble Charmin  said yes but her x wanted some thing in return, Charmin had got a text from her x gf to come to the old run down garage in town, Charmin heads to the rundown garage in town, Charmin all shook up as she  sees her car but no wife in site , Charmin x gf had came out from the back room as Charmin shivers cuzz she not strap to protect her self this time, Charmin x gf had told her the deal was  sex for the car keys but Charmin wanted her wife also but her x told her if the sex is good enough she will give her back, Charmin knew she had to win her wife back so she got on her knees and undo her x gf pants, sucking her x gf dick as she leans back on the car and psu her head, mins later Charmin got her x gf to cum but she couldn’t take her head off her dick as her x gf keeps her down making her drink her cum, charmin choke and gulps the load in her throat and screams out wtf! her gf push her on the dirty tires and pulls her pants off, holding charming legs open as her x gf squeeze her dick back in her pussy like she did 5 years ago, charmin screams from getting fuck so hard for 30 min str8t, Charmin x gf had came  all  inside Charmin pussy like she wanted to do 5 years ago that day, Charmin x gf was soo obsessed with charmin she wanted to be the one to impregnate her … Charmin x gf had got what she wanted from her but charmin had hit her with the news she is on  birth control pills ………. to be continued

Solar tears

I am watching the sun burn brightly as it sets on the blue mountains and it tries to touch me and turn me to gold. I close my eyes and face the heat of the sun, sinking the orange light into my skin. I stay perfectly still, and I pretend one by one, my cells, my inerts become gold and my skin harden as hard as the boulder I am sitting on. I shed a tear and pretended it was the only magic that could undo the sun’s midas touch. 

The sun apologized and went to disappear. And I cried all the way home for wanting to be still forever.