#HOPELED 3.

[caliburn]

As unregulated time persisted in this city, a sense of disappointment burrowed into the Servant's chest — despite never stepping foot in the city, there were a sense of nostalgia to be here, a longing to restore. Against the bridge railing, Lily observed the river beneath, following its natural course, running a fraction of her thoughts.

What broke up the sombre stillness upon the banks blazed red like no other flame — racing at speed, carrying a signal famed and encouraging. Ritsuka! Then perhaps it was meant to be she whom the Servant located in order to depart the city; the Master had been here once, witnessed for herself the desolation. But no chance were there for hope — her rush was no excitement from spying a glimmer of gold upon the bridge, but for survival.

Emerald grew wide at the recognition of a Servant in hot pursuit of the mage — and of all them, it solidified her theory. The Cu Chulainn of Singularity F had been the remarkable ally against the tainted king, summoned as a Caster. but here... a polearm rested in his hands, blazing threatening scarlet. Here, now, he was no companion.

Lily scaled the railing, perching herself on its outer edge with brief calculation for the trajectory — a rough estimation was the best she could work it, given the urgency beneath.

"Master!" Fingers unravelled from steel and the knight leaped forth, tightening her form to hasten the descent. With her powers completely sealed, it were possible that miscalculation could break her body on impact if the sturdiness of a Servant had forsaken her — but it was worth the risk. Ritsuka always took the chance.

Caliburn came down upon the Servant's spear, shaving sparks from their respective metals. And though it disturbed his pursuit, he had the advantage of grounding. With a downward thrust, his weapon retracted the force grinding against the sword, which jolted earthward, and ruptured any airborne balance produced by his resistance. A gasp fell from the realisation of her amateurish mistake, something she could not rectify before the Lancer's leg slammed into her hip and flung her into the water.

@hopeled

[firehrt]

"I may not be an explorer, or an adventurer, or a treasure hunter, or a gunfighter, Aelin, but I'm proud of what I am."

(  THE MUMMY (1999) … ACCEPTING.  )

⠀⠀⠀AELIN ⠀raises her brows, laughter all but exploding out of her mouth in a sharp snort. It's not really what she says, but how she says it; Ritsuka has that effect much of the time. Turquoise eyes rake over her older friend's form, gold flecks practically dancing in the midday light — lingering on the red-gold hair she envied. Her amusement calms into more of a subdued smile, a heady mix of softness and bittersweet pride.

⠀⠀⠀❛ ⠀You should be proud.⠀ ❜⠀Her fingers reach out to tuck some hair behind her ear, favoring the side that she used to tie up ( 'scrunchie,' she called it, but Aelin didn't care much for the word. It just felt unpleasant in her mouth, and called to mind some sort of unique hair-based torture device ). It's a simple change... but Aelin's found herself thinking more than once that Ritsuka just isn't the same without it. She's yet to decide if that's good or not.

⠀⠀⠀❛ ⠀I would argue you are an explorer, and certainly an adventurer. But I suppose those aren't your titles... just part of your little job description. Even your job is just a part of you, though... so what are you, really ? Do you know ?⠀ ❜⠀

[milktei]

Homecoming

Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader

Genre: Sickfic, hurt comfort

Warnings: Slight manga spoilers

Requests: Closed*

a/n: hello hello! (is acting like i haven’t been gone for forever), can you believe i found this just sitting on a random note in my phone 90% done???? i literally wrote this over a year ago and never found the motivation to finish it ;-; due to its age toshi might be a bit ooc.

anyways, i’m not entirely back yet but i keep seeing lovely comments and reblogs that just make me want to start writing again ;-; maybe with the haikyuu movie being released soon my motivation will amp back up. ALSO i’m gonna try to start reblogging regularly again

*request box is still technically “closed” but if anyone has some genshin or *ahem* Baldurs gate 3 requests, i may be inclined to write if they pique my interest :)

enjoy!

If there was one thing that you knew for an absolute fact. it would be that volleyball would always be his main priority.

You knew this well before you started dating him, it was part of the reason you refused to admit your true feelings for him. You refused to take him away from his first love. Something that he was so visibly passionate about.

So you stayed on the sidelines, watching wistfully as the boy you had a crush on rose higher and higher, while you stood on the ground looking up in awe. This was comfortable, you were content with just watching and admiring. It was all you thought you were able to do.

Until he had asked you out first.

You had genuinely thought that Tendou was joking when he had told you that the Ushijima Wakatoshi saw you as anything more than one of the team’s managers.

His face was always devoid of emotion. Your interactions were limited to him nodding in thanks as you gave him a towel or water bottle, or him humming in acknowledgment as you relayed to him the notes you took after the most recent practice match.

And yet you found yourself standing in front of him, just outside the gym after practice, heart absolutely racing as he asked you out on a date.

Your first date was awkward to say the least. Having never spoken outside of club activities, you found it hard to keep a conversation flowing as you two sat in a cafe sipping your drinks.

He had walked you back to your dorm that day, but before you could go in, he had grabbed your hand.

You stared in shock at the large hand enveloping yours, “Ushijima?”

Suddenly, you felt a tiny gust of wind and a slight pressure against your forehead. You could only stammer dumbly as you realized the pressure was his lips.

He pulled away after a moment. He was heavily avoiding eye contact and turned his head to the side, but you could see the tips of his ears turning red.

“I don’t know much when it comes to this stuff. But I know I would like to go out again… if that’s okay with you of course.”

You gaped at the boy in front of you “I- um we…” you took a deep breath to centre yourself and smiled “Yes I would like to go out with you again Ushijima.”

Your relationship progressed quite fast after that. More dates, hanging out with him and Tendou in their dorm.

You were there for everything, cheering him on during games, you were the first person he would seek out when he won, you comforted him after a loss.

Your relationship lasted through high school and even university. It wasn’t long before you two ended up moving in together.

When Wakatoshi found his place with the Schweiden Adlers you were ecstatic. You had also just landed a great job and it felt like your two were simply cruising through life with ease.

Unfortunately your seemingly perfect life would never last forever.

Being in the v-league, volleyball seemed to fill his schedule more now than ever. Constant practice, games outside of the city even in other countries sometimes.

You hardly saw Ushijima anymore despite living with him. Even when you did, he was tired or just about to leave for practice.

It felt like you were pushed back into the sidelines. Watching hopelessly as he rose higher and higher, to places where you could not reach. It was no longer comfortable, you could no longer look in awe, but in despair as you watch him slip from the already loose grasp you had on him.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you went on a date. Every time you mentioned doing something in his free time he had brushed you off.

Which led you to now.

You woke up to an empty bed yet again. It was your day off so you weren’t rushing to get out of bed.

Yet you felt off.

The dryness in your mouth and throat is what you felt first. Then how runny your nose was. Finally, the cold sweat you were experiencing.

You were definitely sick.

You groaned to yourself and pulled the blanket to your chin. Hoping that you could possibly sleep it off.

Yet your efforts were in vain. After what felt like hours of trying to fall back asleep you realized that you were just going to feel even more miserable without anything to eat or at least drink.

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows and immediately regretted it. The world spun around you and your entire body shook. You collapsed back onto your pillow and panted at the exertion it took.

As you caught your breath you turned your head towards your bedside table, where your phone sat charging.

Weakly, you lifted your arm and with a bit of effort you were able to grab your phone. As it turned on you winced at how bright the screen was and with bleary eyes you managed to open your contacts.

The words seemed to blend together as you searched through your contacts, you nearly sobbed in relief as your eyes finally focused on the name of your best friend.

You clicked the call button and dropped you hand to beside your ear, preparing for the way your throat would undoubtedly hurt as you spoke.

After a couple rings you heard the person on the other side pick up and you quickly began speaking, desperate to get them to come quickly so that you could hopefully feel better.

“Hey, I’m sorry if you’re busy but do you think you can bring me some drinks and maybe food? i’m not feeling the best and I don’t know if I can get up at all.”

The person on the other end of the phone began talking but you could barely decipher it as your head spun and your body shivered despite how warm you were.

“-/n….y/n?”

You froze at the deep voice on the other side of the phone. You pulled away an looked at the screen, nearly breaking down at the sight of Wakatoshi’s name instead of your friends. Quickly you put it back against your ear

“Ah I’m sorry Toshi. I meant to call a friend you’re probably busy you don’t have to come back home.” you said quickly, actually sitting up as you rambled nervously, reprimanding yourself for interrupting his practice.

You had called and texted him during practice before. At one point he was fine with it, responding during breaks or calling you back once practice had finished. But lately you had been greeted with one worded responses, or you were just ignored.

One time you even tried to pry once he got home from practice, asking him about his odd lack of response. That day, he had turned to glare at you.

“I’m busy y/n. I don’t have time for things like that.”

“You’re sick?” your thoughts were interrupted by his voice again. He used a tone much gentler than the one he had used that day.

“A little bit, nothing to worry about I can just call-“ you cut yourself off with a harsh cough, unable to hold back the whimper as your throat throbbed in protest.

“I’m coming home.”

Whether from his words or the fever you couldn’t tell, but a chill ran down your spine

“N-no toshi you don’t have to I’ll be fine don’t leave practice just because of me”

“I’ll stop by the store for some ingredients don’t get out of bed.”

And with that the call ended. Slowly, you took the phone away from your ear and looked at it in shock. He was leaving practice early. Something you weren’t aware he was willing to ever do.

At least not recently.

Only when the shock settled, did you realize just how much your body was protesting you sitting up. So, despite your better judgment, you lied back down, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to come home.

What might have been half an hour felt like forever as you laid in bed. Shivering underneath the comforter despite sweating profusely, rubbing your nose raw from having to blow it constantly, all whilst it felt like you were spinning.

In your haze you didn’t even hear the front door or you bedroom door open. How could you when your body demanded all the attention you had?

Wakatoshi stood frozen in the doorway, a plastic bag hanging off his arm, silent as he took in the state you were in.

How hadn’t he noticed before he left? you couldn’t have possibly entered this state within the couple of hours he was gone.

He felt a tug of unease pull at his heart and willed himself to walk up to you.

“y/n,” he called softly. sitting on your side of the bed.

You flinched at the sound of his voice not knowing he was in the room. Slowly, you opened your eyes and winced at the light in the room.

“Toshi,” you croaked pathetically.

His face softened and he brushed your damp hair away from your face, frowning when he felt how warm your forehead was.

“Hey,” he greeted, he lifted a hand and that’s when you saw a thermometer from the medicine cabinet in his hand “can you open your mouth please?“

Weakly, you did as he asked, and as it sat in your mouth, he quickly walked towards the master bathroom. Mumbling something about a towel.

You didn’t hear him however as you turned your head back towards the ceiling and already felt your eyes drooping again.

You only came to when you felt something cool against your forehead, you opened your eyes to see Toshi looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. The thermometer beeped and when he looked at the reading the crease deepened.

Toshi disappeared for a moment again, making his presence known when he began to take the comforter off of you.

You whined as he did so, shivering even harder as air hit your body. You even sat up to try and grab it back.

“‘s cold toshi,” you slurred.

He was quick to place a thinner sheet on top of you “I know dear, but we have to get your body temperature down.”

As you pulled the blanket closer Wakatoshi opened the bag he brought with him. You heard the rattle of a pill container and then the crack of a bottle being opened. Wakatoshi turned to you and held out some medicine and water.

You reached out a shaky hand to take the medicine, placing the pill in your mouth. Wakatoshi helped you hold the bottle, noting how weak your arms were.

You sighed in temporary relief when you finished drinking, glad that your mouth felt less dry.

Wakatoshi allowed a small relieved smile to cross his face and he quickly helped you lay back down.

“I’ll make you some food, stay here.”

Once he was sure you were comfortable he made his way to the kitchen quickly getting his ingredients ready.

It was only when he was midway through washing some rice when he took a moment to pause.

When was the last time he had cooked for you?

Wakatoshi continued his task albeit feeling guilty thinking about how you’ve been the one cooking and eating dinner alone for some time now. It used to be a shared responsibility. Now he usually came home late so you would put a plate aside for him or he would go out to eat with the team.

He was still deep in though as he pushed the bedroom door open with his back, a tray consisting of a bowl of rice porridge and a cup of tea left a trail small trail of steam as he walked.

You were asleep but woke easily at the sound of his footsteps. It took a moment for your eyes to focus on him.

He gestured with the tray, “Do you think you can eat?”

You looked at the food, perfectly plated and garnished, your mouth watering slightly at the savoury smell.

“I think so. At least a little bit.”

He helped you sit up, and when he saw the weakness still in your arms he fed you himself.

You hummed contently at the first bite of food. You had missed this more than you thought you did.

After about half the bowl was done and your tea finished, you signalled that you stomached as much as your body would allow. Now with your body temperature having gone down and your stomach full you could feel yourself becoming less and less loopy. You watched quietly as he put the tray on the bedside table. When he was finished with that, he sat still on the bed and stared at the wall.

You looked at his face, despite it deceptively lacking emotion, you knew better than anyone else that something was bothering him.

However before you could ask he began to speak

“Why wasn’t I the first person you contacted when you realized that you were sick?”

You froze, looking down in your lap fiddling wIth a loose thread in the blanket.

“…Well…you’ve been busy as of late….I didn’t think it was important enough to take you out of practice. Someone less busy would have probably been willing to come.”

He slowly turned to face you. “You didn’t think that your wellbeing was important enough?”

You shrugged, “Well volleyball is always going to be your biggest priority. I’m just sick it’ll pass.”

Obvious distress crossed Ushijima’s face “y/n, you are my main priority.”

You paused. Perhaps it was time to tell him how you were really feeling instead of dancing around the subject.

“…It hasn’t felt that way lately.” you say hesitantly, your voice small.

Wakatoshi faltered. You kept looking down, almost scared to look him in the eye.

“I was content with that at first, your love of volleyball is admirable, it’s was drew me to you at first. But it always made you seem unattainable. When you asked me on that date all those years ago I was over the moon,” you paused to clear your throat huffing in annoyance as your sickness interrupted you.

“But I can only endure so much Toshi. Nowadays it feels like your going where I can’t reach. You’re always busy, which is understandable for a professional athlete… I just wish it wasn’t to the point where I’m worried about your reaction if I were to try to talk to you.”

There was a shift in the mattress. Then familiar arms that you had been longing for wrapped tightly around you.

“Toshi you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine,”

“but-“

“I’m sorry y/n.”

you stiffened but stayed quiet to let him speak.

“You’ve done so much for me without complaint and I have done so little in return. i’m sorry for letting it get to this point. It took you getting this sick for me to realize.”

A stormy look crossed his face, “I… I’ve been struggling to balance work and home, in return I’ve been neglecting you and letting how tired I am influence my reactions. you don’t deserve that. you are my first priority y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You sniffled and wiped a tear that fell from your face. You didn’t even know you were crying. For a man usually so quiet and stoic, he always knew what to say to you when he needed to. It was always so endearing to you.

“If I had known you were going to take it this well I would’ve said something earlier,” you say softly.

He smiles sadly, “I haven’t been making it seem that way hmm?”

You shake you’re head but smile back, “no”

He sighs to himself but places a gentle kiss against your forehead much like how he did all those years ago. Your eyes flutter shut and you make let out a pleased sigh. You were much more comfortable than you were when you first woke up.

“We’ll talk more once you get better. I promise,” He eventually says. holding you a bit closer to him.

You nodded and snuggled closer to his chest. While it wasn’t an immediate fix, it was a start.

“Sounds good to me Toshi.”

He smiled down at you “Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[nebulize-my-mind]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

(I don't know anybody here, so nobody tagged me, I just thought it'd be fun, sorry if I've committed Tumblr crimes lol)

How many works do you have on AO3?

8! But if you don't count my original story snippet it's 7... but if you count my one fanfiction-dot-net-only fic that I've been too lazy (and slightly embarrassed bc it's old) to transfer over... it's 8 again lol

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

With my original story snippet: 16,705 Without my original story snippet: 15,047 And for fun... Including my fanfiction-dot-net-only fic but not original story snippet: 105,467 (lmao)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Oh boy here we go. Well. The fandoms I currently have fics posted for are Danny Phantom, Natsume's Book of Friends/Natsume Yuujinchou, Batfam/DCU (and does the Teen Titans animated show count as a different fandom or nah?), Spider-Man/Marvel, and Harry Potter. However. The fandoms I have fics for including unposted WIPs are as follows: Danny Phantom, Avatar: The Last Airbender, Ben 10, My Hero Academia/Boku no Hero Academia, Batfam/DC, The Morose Mononokean/Fukigen na Mononokean, Gravity Falls, Randy Cunningham: Ninth Grade Ninja, Star vs the Forces of Evil, The Magnus Archives, Spider-Man/Marvel, How to Train Your Dragon, Rise of the Guardians, Harry Potter, Natsume's Book of Friends/Natsume Yuujinchou, Sk8 the Infinity, Bungou Stray Dogs, Be More Chill (the musical), the Rick Riordan universe (Percy Jackson, etc.), and Big Hero 6.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

So I don't have a lot of fics actually posted and obviously I can't count the one that's only on fanfiction-dot-net so... 1) They Say Right, Let's Go Left (Batfam Titans Tower AU; 2,871 kudos as of 11/12/2023) 2) Skia Tou Myalou (Batfam Meta!Tim AU; 1,832 kudos as of 11/12/2023) 3) How To Summon A Halfa (Without A Ouija Board) (Danny Phantom 30-minute oneshot; 178 kudos as of 11/12/2023) 4) And Thus, I Repent (Danny Phantom/Teen Titans crossover preview posted for International Fanworks Day 2022 that still hasn't been updated; 144 kudos as of 11/12/2023) 5) What A Lovely View (Natsume's Book of Friends/The Morose Mononokean crossover oneshot for International Fanworks Day 2021; 74 kudos as of 11/12/2023)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

As much as I can! A lot of the time I'll respond to a lot of comments after I post the story but forget as time goes on lol. I appreciate them so much nonetheless! I'm always flabbergasted that someone took the time to tell me their thoughts and feelings about MY story, it's so cool. Gotta make sure they know how cool I think it is and they are!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Okay... so I haven't actually had any angsty endings per se, at least none that I've posted. Because of where the prologue chapter leaves things for Fractured (Danny Phantom/My Hero Academia) it's currently the most angsty thing I have posted, but I haven't posted anything past the prologue chapter and the story will get more lighthearted. I once accepted a request to write a major character death oneshot, but I never was satisfied or finished it. If I had, it would definitely be the most angsty. As for WIPs/unposted things... I have a "choose your ending" Tim Drake AU series in the works and the "bad ending" will be the most angsty ending I've ever written or planned once I get there.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh, most of what I write has happy endings, I'm honestly a hopeles romantic. I'd call on Skia Tou Myalou (Batfam, Meta!Tim AU) for that probably, mostly because half of They Say Right, Let's Go Left's (Batfam, Titans Tower AU) fluffy ending is in the author's note and also it's a oneshot. As for WIPs/unposted things... I have no idea lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

The only real hate I ever got was on my fanfiction-dot-net-only fic and I still don't know what the guy had against me other than being mad at my author's notes and that I was following a canon plotline... after I said that that's what this fic was going to do before branching out after I finished the rewrite. The positive feedback completely outweighed them though! Thanks to those folks!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

NOPE. Not my thing, totally chill if it's yours. I am too sex-repulsed asexual for that lmao.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

ABSOLUTELY! You may not believe it from what I have posted (or actually maybe you will) but my main genre is crossovers, specifically involving dimension travel. I wouldn't call any of them particularly weird combinations honestly. Maybe What A Lovely View (Natsume's Book of Friends/The Morose Mononokean) or my WIP "Nanashi" (Danny Phantom/The Morose Mononokean) because of the more obscure fandoms.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully no, and I always make sure my fics are tagged where exactly I've reposted them under my own accounts so there's no misunderstandings.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet, that'd be the dream, wouldn't it?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nah, I don't really have people I know in the fanfic community.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

That sure does change monthly! Currently I'm vibing with Reki and Langa from Sk8 the Infinity, can't wait for the next season of that show!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a couple of unposted WIPs that I call "cancelled" WIPs because I never plan on continuing them, it's mostly a couple Danny Phantom crossovers from my early days. As for posted things, work on Fractured (Danny Phantom/My Hero Academia) is actually trudging along pretty well even though I haven't posted anything, I had to completely reorganize the notes for it into a section of their own because they outgrew my standard page formatting! And Thus, I Repent (Danny Phantom/Teen Titans) is at a wall though I plan on continuing it eventually. What's really been getting me is my fanfiction-dot-net-only fic that's been going on since before it was first posted in 2019 but at a standstill since 2020 and the pandemic. I've really been struggling to get any work done on it, which sucks because it's my longest fic but it's also from the early days and I have a love-hate relationship with it and its fandoms.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Hesitantly... imagery? Scene description? I love writing a good, visceral chunk of text that makes you feel like you're there. It lands... sometimes lol

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Trying to develop relationships. Romantic, platonic, any. I have no idea how to pace these things or sometimes how to move them forward, I'm not a super social person and I don't have any experience in romantic relationships, so it's harder to pull from my own life. I'd love to get better though, and relationships are so important to writing and fun to see unfold.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I think it's fine as long as you're respectful of the language and culture. Like, the title of Skia Tou Myalou (Batfam, Meta!Tim AU) (sorry for the lack of accents, I don't have access to the right keyboard right now) is in Greek because the language is cool af, and I had a reader confirm it was correct. Some people get worked up specifically over including Japanese honorifics in anime fics sometimes, but I think it adds a lot of nuances to character relationships so as long as you do your research and apply them correctly and respectfully, I don't mind it at all. I personally prefer to do so when writing fics in anime fandoms where they're used for that extra level of attention and detail. Y'all have no idea how long I spend researching this stuff!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This one was never posted and deleted way back when, but when I was in middle school I wrote a Percy Jackson and the Olympians OC oneshot lol

20. Favorite fic you've ever written?

Y'all trying to make me choose? Betrayal... and it changes every time I work on one lol. Currently I have a certain fondness for an unposted Bungou Stray Dogs Chuuya-joins-the-ADA-with-Dazai AU but my favorite posted is Skia Tou Myalou (Batfam, Meta!Tim AU). Sure it's a little eh in places but I love elemental-ish powers and Tim Drake is my favorite Batboy lol

[x3aspiration]

hazeldine bacc 3-2 whittaker

last / last of this household

hai guys omg i havent posted in forever !! but im back with edna and the kiddos :P

celia and wilson grew up!! i love celia so much she is so cute

wilson's traits are absent-minded, eccentric, and friendly

celia's are slob, loves the outdoors, and easily impressed

celia getting max logic skill !! and edna getting in poison ivy loll

our newest little one!! here's daphne and here's her already getting max mechanical skill :-)

richard and jason came to the shop!! jason and nery had this stare off for a little bit ..??

two more little plant babies !! meet edith and emmeline :D

finally redid the house a bit and added an upstairs, didnt have a whole lot of money but they absolutely needed more space

also planted some sun and moon olive trees outside :)

louisa's birthday!!!

time for her emo phase like richard hazeldine :P , i think she also got the neurotic trait xD

she is a main knowledge sim and a secondary romance sim as a hopeles romantic :)

woohoo a new pet!!! meet ladybug :D

the girls were all hanging out as the backyard just burst into flames ?? still dont know why that happened and then after it stopped i had to keep testing cheats off for like a while because the fire was repeatedly causing an error -___-

daphne's birthday!! and a new baby on the way!!

daphne's traits are over emotional, workaholic, and ligh sleeper

edith and emmeline's birthdays!!! i need to take pics of their traits still oops

celia maxing logic and louisa maxing creativity :]

the babies being born!! twins again , adrian and indigo ^__^ i wish i would get a pair of same sex twins but its whateverrrr

updated loading screen !!!! such a large family

it's been a while since i actually played this rotation so i forgot how much stuff happened lol omg, so many new babies 𖦹___𖦹

next / next of this household

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Pursuit of Happiness Masterlist

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family. When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.

Note: Despite spending a lot of my formative years in and around DC, I know absolutely nothing about politics or how things work on The Hill. This also runs the risk of dipping into some political topics (hopefully not heavily, but certainly some commentary and references). If that could trigger you, please avoid this.

POH Face Claims

1: Meet the Littlemans

2: HopeLives Foundation

3: Three's Company: April 17

[idledreams4]

Not-so-Happily Every After

Pairing: Jerome x Jeremiah, Jerome x Lila (mentioned)

Warnings: incest (implied), physical and sexual abuse

Words: 2,216

Summary: This fic takes place between season 3 and 4, before Jerome's Arkham breakout. He's speaking to a psychiatrist about the first, and only, person he fell in love with and how he was tragically abandoned.

“So, why don’t you tell me a bit about your childhood Mr. Valeska. We were making such good progress with our last session.” Jerome tilted his head, the doctor’s face was hidden by the shadows. She had a pretty voice though

“Ya’ ever been in love doc?” the pained smile remained painted on his lips, though likely she wouldn’t be able to tell had he stopped. The cuts stretching from cheek to cheek ensured the smile never left his mutilated face. 

“I don’t believe that would be appropriate Jerome.” She wants to come between you Jerome couldn't help but entertain the thought. You know she wouldn’t say that if she didn’t think you meant it about her.

“Flattering, but you’re not my type. You only know half the story as it stands. Sure, the abuse was a big part of it, but it wasn’t all bad.” 

“So who was she?” the question earns a manic giggle from the ginger.

“He was an angel. Albeit one that had fallen from grace.” he chuckled, smirking, thinking back to his dear little brother some 11 years ago 

“Do you want to elaborate on that? What does it mean that he had ‘fallen from grace’?” her pencil tapped absent mindedly against the clipboard in her hands, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.  

"Everyone saw him as a perfect little angel, but I knew the truth… I knew he was no better than me. I won't deny the kid was an angel, but so was the devil before he rebelled." Jerome laughed again, a haunting screech that sent shivers down the doctor's spine.

"And did he reciprocate your feelings?" She pressed on with her questions

"I'm not yer run o' the mill serial killer doc, I don't kill cause I was rejected." 

"So you were then." She went to scribble down some notes, but Jerome interjected.

"No. He loved me too. Just as much as I loved him." 

“If that’s true: where is he now?” He sighed, finally letting his smile slip away into a bitter frown. Why does she care where he is?

“Yer guess is as good as mine, Doc. But just cause I don’t know where he’s holed up these days don’t mean he loved me any less. You want to know what my childhood was like? Fine. But hold yer questions for the end.” The psychiatrist adjusted her papers and nodded, prompting him to continue on to his story

“Hailey’s was no place to raise a kid. It was every man fer himself, unless ya had family. This kid was hopeles. Nothin’ but skin and bones, couldn’t fight fer shit, no way to protect himself. I had to watch out for him cause nobody else was gonna…”

“Well well well, what do we have here?” a group of the Lloyd kids approached the boy

“I think pipsqueak is slacking off again” one of them jeered

“Watcha reading, nerd?” the oldest in the group, easily twice his size, snatched the book from the ginger’s hands. 

“Give it back! That’s from the library!” he protested, quickly getting to his feet. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d trashed one of his books, but he had to return this one. 

“Awww… I think he’s gunna cry” The boys cackled as tears of frustration beaded up on the edges of his eyes. Jerome overheard the cruel laughter and immediately dropped what he was doing. Sure, he’d probably get a beating for leaving work in the middle of it, but he knew it would be worse if he let those boys get away with whatever they were planning to do.

“Give it back, now.” Jerome growled, approaching the gang. His hands were clenched in tight fists, he was ready to throw a punch the second one of them came at him. Some of the boys started to back off, afraid of Jerome’s reputation for finishing fights. The older boy didn’t budge though.

“What are you gonna do gingersnap? You don’t scare me. You’re no stronger than the whiny little know-it-all over there”

“I told you to give the book back. Save yourself a fight.” 

“Big talk for someone I can snap like a twig” he tossed the book aside, prompting the kid to scramble for it and make sure there was no damage. Jerome ended up taking the first swing, but the rest of the details were a blur. Next thing he knew he was sitting on his bed, clutching an ice pack to a bruise on his cheek and hissing as the rubbing alcohol stung his wounds.

“You didn’t have to do that Jer…” he frowned, wrapping a bandage tightly around Jerome’s knee. 

“Of course I did. You know I can't let anything happen to you.” 

“...Or so I thought. That night one of the Lloyd trailers caught fire. Nobody died, but a couple of the kids were hurt pretty badly. They said it was a freak accident, a dropped cigarette butt or something like that. I knew better than that though. It was him. That wasn’t the only incident like that either. Only person who never saw retaliation was my mother, because he knew I’d just get blamed and beaten worse. It's worth mentioning that those so-called “accidents” just happened to stop the minute he left the circus.” 

“You have to do it. I can handle whatever happens after, but you need to get out of here, and the only way that’s going to happen is if she thinks I hurt ya.” Jerome gave the smaller ginger a sympathetic look, wrapping his arm around him to try and comfort him. “Face it, you’re smart. If you go now you can have a good life, and when I see a dorky looking red-head sittin’ in the front row out there in a couple years, I’ll leave with ya. She’s not gonna let you go unless she thinks you're in danger though, you gotta know that.”

“Why can’t we just run away together, Jer? Why can’t we just leave? I don’t want to go anywhere without you. I don’t want to leave you here with her…” He didn’t like the idea any better, but he had to convince him to leave. Neither of them stood a chance if he was stuck here. And the promise of his return would be enough to keep Jerome going in the meantime. 

“You been reading too many books. Look around: does this look like a fairytale to you? People around here don’t get happy endings. I know you don’t wanna go… but it has to be like this. Tell her whatever you have to, just convince her to get you outta this place. Come back once yer done school or whatever and we’ll figure things out then. Ok? If it makes you feel any better, you’ll be my prince charming,” he smirked, placing a tender kiss on the kid’s cheek “Now-” he reached past Miah to grab his book of the nightstand “-why don’t ya finish reading this for me? I wanna know how things turn out for Huck and Jim…”

“He told his mother a bunch of bullshit stories about how I tried to kill him and she bought it. I had Hell to pay but it meant he was out of the circus, with a nice family. And that was enough to get me through the beatings. I never told him, but I always looked up to him. He was smart, creative… It’s why I believed in him for so long. I had to hold on to something to get me through the abuse from Lila”

“Jerome get the FUCK out here. NOW!” Lila’s grating voice bounced off the thin walls of the trailer. Jerome grumbled something incoherent to himself and tossed what was left of his cigarette but out the window.

“I didn’t take whatever it is you misplaced this time” He spat, entering the main room

“Oh yeah? Explain this you little thief” she chucked an empty wallet at him. Jerome simply tossed it back at his mother

“I. Didn’t. Take. Anything. My bet is you probably blew it all on booze and pills and can’t make up the money because nobody around here wants to screw a used up old who-” he’s cut off by Lila slapping him across the face. She promptly shoves him away so he doesn’t get a chance to fight back. There’s an audible thud when his head makes contact with the doorframe

“I give you a damn roof over your head, feed you, keep you clothed, and THIS is how you want to fucking repay me? By stealing from me and INSULTING ME under my own ROOF!? You should be thankful you’re even alive. If it wasn’t for your brother I would have just aborted you and saved myself the trouble.” Jerome heard the door to the trailer slam after she stormed out.

“But it started to get worse”

A bottle flew past Jerome’s head, narrowly missing him and shattering against the wall. The remnants of cheap booze trickled down and soaked into the carpet. 

“get. OUT.” Lila screeched

“I’m not going anywhere. Maybe if you can find something I’ve actually done to get pissed about, I’ll consider it.” She knew he was getting to be stronger than her at this point, but that didn’t seem to bother her. She marched right up to Jerome and pushed him against the wall, the broken glass crunching under their feet

“Oh you definitely took the vodka, but fine, how about everything you did to Jeremiah?” He felt his entire body tense at the accusation. He’d never laid a finger on him, he wouldn’t dare. She grabbed one of the larger pieces of the bottle and held it against Jerome’s throat. “You took him from me!” Jerome shoved her off him, anger building in his eyes. Lila stumbled and fell, cutting her own hand open. Jerome got on top of her, pinning her so she couldn’t do anything

“I never TOUCHED him. It was all LIES. LIES you were too STUPID to see past!” for the first time he saw what looked like fear in his mother’s eyes, which brought him back to reality. He was turning into her… no, he couldn’t have that. He got off her and stormed out of the room, angry he let himself get so caught up. 

“And worse…”

“Can’t you knock?” Jerome looked up at his mother, leaning on his door frame, no doubt drunk

“Who cares… not like I was going to see anything I haven’t b’fore..” Lila was slurring her words far too much for Jerome’s liking. She wasn’t going to remember any of this when she woke up tomorrow afternoon, and that was never good. 

“I’m not dealing with you when you’re like this. Take whatever you want, I don’t even care,”  he got up and tried to leave, more than happy to let her sleep it off in his room if it meant she left him alone. But she stopped him at the door. He knew he could easily take her down in this state but he didn’t want to start the fight

“Where d’you think you're going? I wanted to talk to you Miah…” a pit was forming in his stomach, whatever was happening here he wanted no part of it. Especially if she was calling him by his brother's name

“We can talk when you’re sober…” He tried to push past her but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back

“Come on, lets sit down, we’re only gonna talk…” she pulled him back to his bed “just relax baby…” before Jerome knew what was happening her lips were on his 

“Eventually I lost hope he was ever coming back. It's hard to keep believing in some fairytale once so many lines have been crossed. And once I lost hope in him, I stopped caring. About the abuse, about becoming her, about all of it.” all the confidence had left Jerome's voice at this point. There was an emptiness. He was trying to hide just how much pain these memories brought back. 

“You never mentioned a brother until now. Is that because you feel he abandoned you?” 

“Ya got a better word for what happened? He was supposed to come out to the circus once he had his life together. He was supposed to come find me and take me out of that Hell” he snapped at the doctor

“Maybe he just didn't have things together before-” 

“You don't know him! It would have taken him 10 years tops. And that's how long I waited!” 

“Jerome it wasn't meant to-” 

“Don't pretend like you know him all of a sudden. You don't get to talk about him.” The psychiatrist paused, giving Jerome a moment to calm down 

“I'm sorry to have upset you Mr. Valeska. But there's one other thing I have to ask… the boy you described… that was Jeremiah, wasn't it?” 

“Save me the lecture doc.” Jerome's attitude softened but he was still bitter 

“With everything you've told me I'm not surprised. I'm not here to judge or lecture you. My job is simply to help you. But I'm afraid we're out of time for now. Thank you for being so cooperative Jerome.” 

[hummingbird-of-light]

June of Doom Day 21

21. “On three.”                                      

| Dehydration | Memory Loss | Choke |

TW: major character injury, major character death, blood and injury

A/N: Based on prompts 2 and 3

~

When the shuttle hit the ground, Scotty was hit by some debris that fell from the ceiling. Luckily, he had sat back down in his seat again, so he wasn't thrown around like a rag doll.

Yet still, pain shot through his body at the impact. He managed to undo his seat belt and looked around. Smoke made it hard to see, but he made out the figure of Khan. The man who had killed his crew and had taken him.

He wasn't moving.

Scotty got up from where he was sitting, but as soon as he tried to take a step, a sharp pain shot through his leg. He looked down and almost instantly his stomach turned around.

A sharp piece of metal was pierced through his thigh. How had he not noticed it right away? Blood was streaming out of the wound and Scotty knew that he needed medical help as soon as possible.

Groaning in pain, he made his way over to Khan. There was a cut on the augment's forehead. Apparently he had hit it.

Scotty stared at the man's chest for a moment and when he saw it moving up and down, he knew that Khan was alive.

For a second, he thought about trying to escape, but he knew that he wouldn't make it very far anyway with the injury.

So his best chance to survive this, was the unconcious man in front of him.

"Khan... wake up."

He carefully grabbed the man's shoulder and shook him.

A soft moaning told him that the augment was waking up; the eyelids fluttered.

"Come on..."

Finally cold blue eyes snapped open and glared at Scott. A hand grabbed his wrist.

Only a moment later, Khan was surveying their surroundings, obviously trying to remember what had happened.

He let go of the engineer's wrist and got up from where he was sitting, swaying slightly. Scotty held him upright.

He didn't really known why he was helping the man, but he needed him alive and well so that Khan could get them out of here.

"You are still here. You didn't escape," the augment concluded and Scott shrugged.

"Yeah, I highly doubt that I would have gotten away fast enough," he replied, nodding down at his injured thigh.

Khan eyed the wound for a second, then looked back up at the Scotsman's face.

"I suppose you're right about that, Mr. Scott. But what now? You expect me to help you?"

The smallest smile slid onto Scotty's face.

"Well, ye need me as a bargain if ye want to make a deal with Starfleet. So... aye, I think it would be best if ye'd help me."

Khan huffed, an eyebrow raised, before he got over to the shuttle's door.

"Let's see where we landed."

At that, Scott tried his best not to snort. Yeah, 'landed'; if that was what the augment called it.

He made his way over to stand next to Khan and when the door opened, both men didn't look too happy.

A desert!

Green sand and a reddish sky with a hot burning sun. No people or buildings.

The Scotsman swore loudly in Gaelic. That was not good.

"We're gonna die! There's no way that we can survive on this planet!"

But Khan shook his head.

"We just have to repair the shuttle."

This time Scotty couldn't hold the snort inside.

Ha! Of course! Just repair the shuttle.

"What are ye? A mad man? That's impossible. We dinnae have the right tools."

Khan glanced at him, face not giving away any emotion.

"I thought you were a miracle worker."

Well, this was clearly more than a miracle! It was impossible!

Khan turned around and walked through the shuttle. His eyes rested on the consoles.

"We just have to make the communications system work," he mused and Scotty sighed.

He really was a mad man.

"Good luck with that, laddie."

When Khan sent him a glare, Scott knew that he didn't have much of a choice. He had to help him. So he would.

++++++++

It didn't work. They quickly found out that something in the planet's atmosphere was messing the signal up. It had probably caused the crash too.

Scotty sighed hopelessly. The pain in his thigh was getting worse with every minute passing.

He just wanted to curl up and die.

"Give it up. We will never make it work."

Slowly, Scott sat down and looked at his bleeding leg. It would get infected sooner or later. And then he'd die anyway.

"Then we have to find the inhabitants."

A weak smile formed on the Scotsman's lips as he closed his eyes.

Khan still had hope. Why? Was his longing for revenge really strong enough to keep him going?

A face appeared in front of his inner eye.

Keenser.

The lad was still waiting for him. Waiting for Scotty to come home.

He couldn't leave him. He had to get back.

When Scotty's eyes opened again, they looked determined.

"Okay... let's go."

He awkwardly tried to stand up and Khan looked at his thigh.

"You won't get too far with that thing in your body."

Scotty let out a sigh.

"Well, I cannae pull it out, can I?"

He didn't want to bleed out, after all.

Khan's eyes moved across the shuttle and suddenly he seemed to have an idea.

"We can use something hot to obliterate the blood vessels," he thought aloud and Scotty felt his body go tense.

"N-no, please..."

Khan grabbed another piece of metal and used a phaser to heat it up.

"You want to die, Mr. Scott?"

The engineer felt tears in his eyes. No... he didn't want to die. But he didn't want to endure this horrible pain either.

Khan knelt down beside him and grabbed the piece of metal that was stuck in Scott's leg.

"I'll pull it out. On three."

With his eyes shut close, Scotty nodded.

He waited for the countdown, but it never came. And when he opened his eyes to ask why Khan was hesitating, it happened.

A loud scream rang through the shuttle and Scotty knew that this was the worst physical pain he had ever felt in his life.

++++++++

They got moving and after who knows how many hours, Scotty regretted his decision. It was just so hot!

With every step he took, he felt more and more exhausted. He couldn't see properly anymore.

"I... I need a break. Please," he croaked. His throat was so dry. He just needed to drink something.

Khan didn't stop walking. His eyes were fixed on the path ahead of them.

Scotty grabbed his arm and tried to hold him back.

"K-Khan..."

A moment later, the Scotsman fell to his knees, then flat onto the ground.

"Quit whining, Scott. Don't you see it? There is an oasis right over there."

Scotty stayed right where he was, head tilted to one side. He blinked a few times, trying to see something.

"There... there's nothing. Khan, there's nothing!"

But the augment didn't listen. He kept on walking.

"Ye're hallucinating," Scotty tried to stop him once more. Khan didn't believe him.

"It's... right... right there."

It didn't take long until the augment collapsed too. Scotty managed to pull his body across the ground, getting closer to the other man.

"We... have to... get there."

Khan's eyes were still fixed on the sand. Tears filled them.

"I... I have to... to... avenge them. My family."

Scotty swallowed hard and placed a hand on the man's shoulder. His own grief returned.

"Guess... we both won't reach our goal."

Keenser would have to wait for him. Forever. For he wouldn't return.

They never should have left the shuttle.

[mareenavee]

More asks, yes? YES? 💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language 🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change 🤲what do YOU get out of writing? 🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to? And I'm going to invent my own because I want to use an emoji, that's it that's the reason 🐦 What would you like to see MORE of, in the fandoms you're following. Could be writing/art related, could be fandom culture related. What would you like to see exist that doesn't at the moment (or doesn't anymore)?

HELLO! AH. I like that birb emoji :3 Always feel free to make up extra questions 😂Thank you for these!

Here are some Fic Writer's Asks for ya'll!

:D Here's the ask game.

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language?

Well! I can tell you my favorite part of writing a story (or reading one!) is character, followed closely by worldbuilding. But what's most important is a little more difficult to simply pick one thing. A good story has all of these things in spades. A good, solid plot idea. Characters that the author knows well. Clever worldbuilding aspects that make the setting seem real...and a good handle on language and grammar all work together to create a fantastic experience. So there's no most important part -- just that all of it has been given the author's best possible effort (:

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

Ohhh I love this. Mostly because it's such a Thing (tm) in art spaces and is always a topic of conversation. I don't hear about it much for writers, except maybe "voice/tone" in critique circles. All I can say is that style regardless of medium is composed of certain habits the artist incorporates into their work.

For writing, that's going to be specific turns of phrase that tend to be used, perhaps it can be a series of tropes or situations the writer tends to focus on or include in their work. Just like with art, style changes the more skill you gain in your particular craft. Even so, a style may still seem "fixed" to the average reader, even if with each project, you improve and things change to suit.

So my go-to style is usually writing close third limited with rotating pov characters (: But even if I were to say, switch to first person with just one character through the whole story and posted it anonymously there's certain ways that I word things and certain themes that might make a reader be like "Oh this sounds like something Mareena might have written." It's weirdly difficult to describe exactly... but I hope that kind of makes a little sense lol

🤲what do YOU get out of writing?

This is an excellent question, my goodness. Writing fic has been so healing for me for so many reasons. I've had a really rough time the last few years irl with life throwing everything it can at me to try and grind me down. For a bit, it actually did, I suppose, and I'd stopped writing much at all. I hated everything I was producing, if anything at all and it was just a bad time.

Things looked up a little when I decided it didn't matter how good the writing was, but that I got something down on paper. I'd just finished a month-long art challenge for myself (I painted 31 pokemon and it was a lot of fun, even if it wasn't perfect) and I wanted to plan out something similar -- low stakes, just for fun. With the help and encouragement of some of my irl friends, a little help with an idea and MANY MUCH planning, The World on Our Shoulders started as a challenge to write and post daily, damn the consequences.

Since then, I've been revising. Some of my characters (not all just the MC either) have been given some of my problems. I like to write hope into hopeless situations anyway. It's cathartic to see characters experience the same huge emotions I can relate to and make it through to the other side. I get to write that. I get to be in control of the narrative for them, no matter how hard it gets before its resolution. It helps me believe in myself and my own strength, too. It's funny how art does that, I think. (:

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to?

Well I suppose the "doesn't do well" part mostly doesn't affect me because of my stance on social media and hustle culture. At the end of the day, it's not about how many comments or kudos or likes my fic/posts get, it's about having fun making the content. I am writing for myself first, in this case, and for the readers second. I am lucky to have a circle of mutuals that I love hearing from regarding fandom things here on tumblr and discord. We support each others' creative endeavors and that is, in my eyes, doing well. If it brings joy, even just to me, it's good. It's doing well. My steps are simply to write, and share. The rest is nothing to worry over.

🐦 What would you like to see MORE of, in the fandoms you're following. Could be writing/art related, could be fandom culture related. What would you like to see exist that doesn't at the moment (or doesn't anymore)?

Well, would I even be me if I didn't say I wanted to see more Teldryn fics in the TES tags (: So yes, that. But more than that, I'm interested in different takes for the character. For any characters, really. I want to see deep stories with lots of different perspectives on lore and the handling of different quests in the game. I want adventure, I want witty dialogue, I want flawed OCs that team up with the coolest NPCs to go out and discover what they're really capable of. If they happen to be Teldryn stories, all the better.

I do want to see people finish some of their WIPS, too. I know that's a big ask. But there's so many on AO3 at least that have been unfinished for months, years even and I want to encourage all those writers and cheerlead their work. I know very well that sometimes life just gets in the way of being able to devote so much time to a project. But I hope everyone who has an unfinished and/or back-burnered TES fic (or any fic, really) sees this and knows I'm rooting for you. Your work is WORTH IT. Your stories matter. (:

So I guess another facet to this answer is, for fandom in general, more cheering each other on. Writers ought to stick together, after all. I'd love to see even more supportive, kind words for each other. More encouragement in general. I see too much silliness and arguments over the details in fandom and the only way to change that is to loudly support each other as often as possible.

[professorlizzard]

Week #1

1. Your Friendly Local Amorph Sunset Church On The Hill: a misshapen church, owned by a delegation sent from planet Gwin. The priests often hold speeches about impending disasters that might attack the local crops. Has a thriving internet café, freuqented by young pulp book writers.

2. Mr €'s Economical Scooter Rental: A lot full of electric scooters. The buildings seems new and expensive, the scooters are old and expensive. The scooters return on their own, as if guided by an invisible hand.

3. St Femur Free Hospital and Modification Clinic: A gleaming green hospital, ran by a fund of transduction genies. A place to get a free checkup, or perhaps extra legs extra cheap. There seem to be many lawyers around it.

4. Losedar House Library: An old looking brand new mansion, originally owned by an old biologist. It has been converted it into a public library, entirely about wildlife, agriculture, and anatomy. The cabinet of curiosities section is unnerving.

5. SLD Allotment Management: This little firm handles procuring and distributing high quality vegetable seeds from the finest gardens of Planet Small Land Denomination. The smell of homely cooking wafts through the air. "Have you seen gaDNAlf?" posters can be seen near the entrance.

6. Amateur Handegg Court: An old warehouse repurposed as a smaller handegg court. Food trucks congregate in the parking lot. Seems to be under renovation, funded by the recent surge in interest in Handegg 7s.

7. The Jolly Aces': A fancy restaurant ran by a famous hopeling chef. Mainly frequented by snooty firstborn cargo pilots. Spaceship parts and rural aesthetics mercilessly mix inside.

[thegiftedoneishere]

Always shushing the black man. Episode was okay but the as per usual the black characters fed into the normal trope of this world. Service to whiteness.

Cleo servicing Hope

Kaleb servicing Alaric and Lizzie

MG servicing Josie

* Also somehow Landon didn’t have one scene and yet the entire episode was still about him...this must stop!

- What’s Alaric’s purpose? Jed? Ethan? Wade?

Justice for Rafael

[kisorashi]

The Golden Compass starters — [ X ]

@hopeled​ said:  ❝ If we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn’t feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars. ❞

Stargazing was definitely one of Djeeta’s favorite past times and she’s lucky enough to find another who could enjoy it with her. Or at least understand the feeling in the night air. The crisp coolness, fresh and inviting upon her skin. Especially the very twinkle Ritsuka spoke of, as if welcoming them as their own. A role among the multitudes of stars and fates—fates weighing heavily in their hands. Nothing she’s unfamiliar with and she feels that Ritsuka may have a similar responsibility.

While the night sky seen in Spirale is impressive, Djeeta misses that of her own home skies. Phantagrande and Nalhegrande each felt unique with their own brilliance, even though they were all under the same sky, sky map pieces and the Grim Basin being the only thing dividing them. 

There was something beautiful and magnificent in sailing in the pure open skies, where she would witness the colors paint the once clear blue canvas before it fades into black silk, each bright star sparkling and silently announcing their arrival. Some nights she believed she could reach out and touch them, other nights she danced around the deck when everyone was asleep, soaking in their brilliance. 

To be innocent and enjoy what had been out of her reach and not to worry what destruction could be wrought in her desire to reach the end. The captain would deal with it as it came. Yet for just a moment, she wanted to be part of the sky.

It would be wonderful if she could show Ritsuka her home, to have her experience sailing in the skies. 

“Isn’t it a great feeling?” she asks, stretching her arms out wide and twirling once. While the smile on her face cannot rival the star’s brilliance, it still shines with happiness. “It wouldn’t be good if you caught a cold though. If you do feel a little chill, there’s enough room for both of us under here.” With a flourish and giggle, she flips the Eternals mantle back, displaying that there is enough room for two.

[mizukume]

hopeled replied to your post: “I’m the one who brought sexy back.”

that. that isn’t. tamamo no

“But am I wrong, Master?”

[gloryride]

19, 23, 26, 33 and 50 for cuties Vanessa and Valentin >:3

Thanks for asking about baby girl and french lover ♥♥

[50 OTP THINGS]

19/ Who loves to call the other one cute names?

Valentin calls her mostly "Princesse" in French, so he likes to use a few nicknames, especially in private, or to point something out; otherwise, he uses her first name.

Vanessa loves to give nicknames to people she likes, so to Valentin often in Spanish (cariño, corazon, mi hero …) and others in English. She rarely calls him by his first name because she always sees him smiling when she misspells the pronunciation. But it almost becomes a turn-on in the privacy ^^

23/ Who asks who out on the first date?

Valentin. They were already lovers, they spent more time doing the horizontal tango than talking, they were always horny with each other. Valentin once said he could cook very well and asked Vanessa to show him his real culinary talents, she asked him if it was a date, and he said yes.

So Vanessa came to his place for a dinner date, and she indeed found out that besides being handsome and sexy, he was also a good chef. He had prepared several excellent dishes, and to make her understand the nuances, he made her taste some of them blindfolded. Vanessa loved this evening, where they got to know each other better.

26/ Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

Valentin has a fairly strict diet, likes to cook, and can afford to pay for the right ingredients; he is less junk food, even if he does it from time to time (this boy needs a lot of calories). Vanessa has always loved Mexican home cooking, but she has always enjoyed eating street food with her friends, especially Jackie.

33/ Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Both ? Both is good They could play innocent with the "not guilty" one, but their entourage knows them well enough to know that this is entirely wrong, that they are undisciplined and always involved in trouble! And if they change to the "sin" one, everyone will agree. It would make a good t-shirt for them both, I think.

50/ Who is the hopeless romantic?

Tough question Neither of them is at first sight, Vanessa thinks it's cheesy and Valentin is more of a French lover than a romantic.

But in reality, they enjoy it, the attentions, the moments to be alone, Vanessa loves it when he brings her flowers, even if they are fake sometimes. They love the one-on-one meals, looking at each other and touching over and over.

But neither of them is hopeles romantic, they are romantic in their own way and in private.

[ivyaugustetc]

hey fellow hopelessful romantic :) how are u !!

uM MY WELTON SWEATSHIRT JUST CAME IN THE MAIL SO I AM VERY, VERY GOOD. HOW ARE YOU LOVE <3

[saucy-sassy-sparkly]

Pursuit of Happiness 3: Three's Company

Pairing: Chris Evans x Kat Littleman (OFC)

Summary: New England political daughter Kat Littleman is constantly showing up for her mother’s campaigns, playing the part of the perfect daughter in the perfect, American family.  When her paths cross with Chris Evans while he canvases DC to build out ASP, she’s forced to face some truths about herself, her family, and her future.  

Word Count: ~5.9k

Series Masterlist

3: Three’s Company

It had been four days since Chris stormed away from her backyard, and Kat hadn’t stopped feeling guilty. At the grocery store on Thursday afternoon, she thought she’d seen him down the cereal aisle and had taken a deep breath and started to walk towards him, mentally preparing her apology, before the man stood up and turned out to be very much not Chris. She’d scampered away before he noticed her.

She was pretty sure she’d pegged him incorrectly and with time to process, she realized she’d definitely jumped to conclusions about his appearances this week. Kat managed to get “review the company website” onto their Wednesday team meeting agenda and found that her face was not very visible; you had to click through several links to get to the founder's page and even then, it was the very last item on that page.

And her house backed up to public property. She couldn’t very well be angry with him for walking on a lakefront trail. Lots of people did that. Chris had been right, it was a public park and a public area; just because her backyard was on the trail didn’t mean she owned it, nor did it mean he’d intentionally come to her home.

None of her guilt had stopped her from feeling anxious about Chris and his sudden reappearance. She was so protective of her personal life; she’d grown up under her mother’s watchful, critical eye and then gotten dragged into every single one of said mother’s campaigns from the time she was in high school. It had started easy, just a little appearance now and then at a town event but suddenly Mallory’s sights kept getting bigger and bigger and she wanted her family with her. She threw them into interviews and photo ops and every opportunity to parade them around. One of Mallory’s favorite things to do was to deflect from a personal comment about her by offering up a personal tidbit about Kat instead.

So, the flutter in her stomach at the sight of Chris and the itch to feel his touch again made Kat more than a little apprehensive. She hadn’t been joking when she said she was suspicious of his motives. Important, wealthy guys like him could get whatever and whoever’s attention they wanted with a few phone calls- she’d watched most of the guys she went to high school with do it even then, but with Daddy’s name as their bait. Even if their run-ins this week had truly been coincidental, she couldn’t help feeling a little cynical at the idea of it all being entirely by chance.

Chris confused her and enticed her and made her head foggy for the whole week while she tried to navigate her feelings and hopefully push him entirely out of her mind. Alas, he was still on her mind Saturday morning while she got up, let Amelia out, and sat reading with her first cup of coffee from one of her HopeLives mugs– just like the ones she’d set out for everyone at the foundation. He popped into her mind as she pushed through the gate at the back of her yard and onto the path around the lake; she was picturing him stalking away from her. He was still on her mind when she planted herself on the park bench and sipped the warm coffee in her travel mug, before yanking her beanie tighter over her ears.

The November weather had turned from crisp to brisk in a matter of days. Every few minutes, a gust of seemingly Arctic wind would whip across the lake and chill Kat through her big red jacket, jeans, gloves, hat, and the ancient, crusty Uggs she refused to get rid of. They ruined almost every outfit at this point because they were so old and dirty, but she didn’t care. Every year she’d order a new set of fresh, cozy insoles and wear them all winter long to walk Amelia or do a quick run to the mailbox.

It was almost noon; she’d been sitting here for almost an hour while the sun occasionally poked out from behind the clouds. Kat killed the time making a mental list of items to pick up at the grocery store later, too cold to get out her phone and make a real one– that would require taking off her gloves. She was grateful the coffee was still warm and that Amelia was laying with her head in Kat’s lap on the park bench. It wasn’t quite freezing yet but it was cold enough with the ominous clouds lingering overhead and the air off the water.

You’d never know it was almost freezing based on Ollie.

He sat in the sandbox adjacent to the lake’s playground, digging with a tiny yellow shovel and carefully pouring his collection into a blue pail. His little brow furrowed in concentration as he moved in slow motion, reaching across his body with the shovel and dumping it with care. When he’d successfully added to the growing pile of sand in the bucket, he’d pause, look up at Kat with a proud grin, she’d return a thumbs up or a ‘great job!’ and then he’d do it all again.

If he was in charge, he’d sit out here all day, rain or shine or snow, and dig in this sandbox. He could pour sand into that bucket without interruption– it was essentially the only time he was still so Kat embraced the moment to sit down, even if it meant doing it outside on a November day in Massachusetts. She was convinced Amelia had some husky in her as she seemed to luxuriate in the cold rather than shiver as Kat was.

Kat forced herself off the bench, her bones creaking from sitting on the cold, hard surface for so long, and knelt on the edge of the sandbox. Amelia stared at her from her perch, entirely confused as to why the snuggling had ended, and then begrudgingly got down and sat dutifully next to Kat. Kat ran a gloved hand through the sand, making note of the way Ollie’s little fingers were bright red from the cold– he’d refused the mittens she brought with him and she’d decided that allowing him full dexterity was a sacrifice she’d make. “Hey bubs,” she leaned down to catch his attention, “five-minute warning, okay?”

When he nodded at her, she sat back on her haunches, continuing to watch his slow, careful activity. He’d been to the beach both of the last two summers– Mallory and Tim had a house on the Cape and had allowed Kat access to it whenever she wanted. She’d taken him once alone when he was hardly one, and then again last summer when her parents were also at the house, but he didn’t seem to remember. It wasn’t until about a month ago that they’d been on a walk around the lake with Amelia and he’d seen the sandbox as if it was the most incredible thing in the world.

His sweet little face lit up and he’d tottle towards it, crawling in without warning and dropping on his bum to run his hands through the course sand, grinning up at Kat. They’ve visited every weekend since then. Each time they came, they brought his yellow shove, his blue pail, and nothing else. He needed nothing else to get literally hours of enjoyment and Kat was not about to stop him.

Except she was about to stop him because the timer would go off any minute and she needed to start the fireplace at home and restore some feeling to her appendages. She didn’t know how she was going to explain to Ollie that the sandbox wasn’t a four-season activity in Massachusetts; at some point, she’d have to cut him off and she knew it would be devastating. Two-year-old tantrums are no joke. Not quite old enough to get it, but old enough to be pissed.

Miraculously, Ollie left the sandbox gracefully, holding his small shovel and pail in one hand and Kat’s hand in the other as they started towards the path back home. Kat kept up a running conversation with her son, babbling to him and engaging in his toddler talk– some of which was coherent, but much of which wasn’t– as Amelia tracked the path for other dogs to greet, wild animals to hunt, or new human friends to play with.

“Should we go to the grocery store before or after lunch,” Kat asked him, looking down at her favorite human and listening to him ramble off a string of words, several of which she could comprehend but many were still garbled. “Okay then, let’s go home and play, and then we can have lunch, take a nap, and go to the grocery store, sound good?”

Ollie was babbling again when Kat looked up, tugging on Amelia’s leash to get her attention and reign her back in. She was waggling frantically; Kat followed her line of vision and her eyes first hit a happy, fluffy, tan, and white pup looking equally frantic to get to Amelia. Kat’s heart thudded harder in her chest when her eyes trailed up the red leash the dog was on, up the arm of the unassuming owner, and into the eyes of Chris.

He was in tan boots, jeans, and a huge, black winter coat, and on his head was a Red Sox cap. He didn’t notice her at first, he was staring straight ahead watching his dog and trying to keep control of him just as Kat was with Amelia. When he looked around to figure out what had captured Dodger’s attention, he saw Amelia’s joyful face first. Quickly, his memory kicked in of that day almost a week ago when he’d been standing at a white picket fence, petting a sweet dog… that sweet dog… Kat Littleman’s sweet dog. His eyes moved slowly from the dog, up the leash, the arm, the shoulder, and up to Kat’s face. He was about to give Kat a curt nod when he noticed the third figure with them.

The small boy in a navy blue dinosaur winter coat and an aviator hat lined with sherpa fleece was clutching Kat’s hand and staring up at her adoringly. Kat had come to a stop on the path, looking like a deer in headlights while she stared at Chris. Amelia was entirely out of her control, stretching to the end of her leash and straining her wiggling body towards Dodger.

While Kat was still in a trance staring at Chris, her thoughts went immediately to the day at the fence and how bad she’d ended up feeling about it. In all honesty, if she’d had his number, she probably would’ve called him to apologize. Or at least sent a text. People walked by the house all the time. It was not uncommon to run into a client from the foundation, a friend from yoga, or even someone she’d been on a date with before.

She’d been a little taken aback at his comment about not being memorable– she’d thought the evening was pretty memorable. Kat had the image of herself coming undone on his hand and his cock burned into her memory. She’d also been wearing out the batteries of her vibrator trying to achieve the same intense climax she’d gotten with Chris that night.

Standing in the middle of the path, gazing right back at Kat, Chris was reminding himself of all the ways she had made it clear she wasn’t interested. He’d stalked back around the lake and to his car after leaving her yard last week and brooded about her attitude, and her bitchy demeanor, and tried to place blame. He also realized that, from her perspective, it was awfully strange that he’d shown up twice in one day seemingly by accident.

Truth be told, if he wanted to, he could’ve gotten access to her workplace or address. A few calls from his assistant to the right people, name drop in the right place, and people fell at his feet. He tried not to flex that too often, but occasionally it was helpful. So yeah, if he’d wanted to find her, he could’ve tried harder and dug deeper and actually planned to run into her. But he hadn’t done that! He’d been trying to work! He’d been trying to go for a goddamn walk with his dog! He’d just happened to stumble upon her workplace and then her home…

But no, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in him, so he was not about to give her the satisfaction of looking flustered. It didn’t matter that his heart was in his throat. It didn’t matter that he could still hear the pretty noises she’d made as he’d made her come. It. Didn’t. Matter.

And… there was a child with her.

Could she have a child? Was she married or had a boyfriend and that was why she was so desperate to leave what happened in DC behind?

“Chris, hi,” Kat’s breathy, nervous voice pulled at his heartstrings and made him want to move closer to her. He resisted.

“Am I allowed to walk here?” Her face looked startled at his brash response and just as quickly her face flushed and she averted her eyes. He immediately felt guilty; he was letting his emotions get the best of him. Fuck, Chris, why would you say that? “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I probably deserved that,” she played with the dog’s leash in her hand and took a step toward Chris and Dodger. She raised her eyebrows at Chris, looking between the dogs and then back at him and he nodded, letting Dodger’s leash loosen so they could greet each other. “This is Amelia,” Kat explained, watching the dogs come together.

“Dodger.”

A silence fell between the gathered group while everyone watched Dodger and Amelia sniff at each other, their tails beating hard enough they might’ve been able to propel a small airplane. Chris’s eyes kept drifting over to the little boy who was grinning at the dogs and reaching for them. Kat kept his hand tucked into hers.

“He’s really friendly and good with kids. I have nieces and nephews.” Chris offered, looking at the boy and not Kat.

Kat looked between Chris and Ollie and then tugged on his hand to get his attention. His little face looked up at hers and she couldn’t help but grin. Chris noticed the dimples in her cheeks and his heart swelled. “You can say hi to Dodger, Ol,” she nodded toward the dogs and watched him take a step away from her and drop her hand, giggling as he reached for the dogs with his pudgy little fingers.

“Who’s this?” Chris finally asked, taking in the gentle way both dogs greeted the boy. He watched Kat’s face as she took a calming breath and then looked him dead in the eye.

“This is my son, Oliver. He’s almost two.” Her response hung in the air between them. Chris didn’t have a right to be upset if a woman he’d slept with once didn’t disclose her motherhood, but somehow he wished he’d known. He wished they’d had enough of a rapport to share that kind of information. He wanted it with her; why he did was still a mystery to him. He still couldn’t understand what drew him so strongly to Kathrine Littleman, but he found himself standing here in this park, watching her son play with his dog, and feeling a little slighted that he didn’t know. He tried to shake it off.

Chris settled on a response that every parent loved, “he’s a cutie.”

Kat’s face split into a true grin when she looked at her son lovingly, “thank you,” she paused and then bit her bottom lip. Chris could see the wheels turning as she glanced at him, then back to the dogs, then back up at him again. “Listen, Chris, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell your one night stand you have a kid,” Chris laughed even though he felt very differently, “no problem.”

“No,” Kat looked at him with an expression he couldn't place, “I mean I’m sorry about the way I spoke to you last week. It was uncalled for.”

“Oh, that,” Chris rocked on his heels, “don’t worry about it.”

“I was really rude. I’m sorry I reacted like that. It just seemed so strange and impossible to be coincidental and I realize now that I was too harsh.”

He was about to say something like ‘don’t worry about it’ but the next few moments happened in slow motion. Ollie had tottered in between the two dogs with his arms outstretched. He was rubbing both of them and giggling while the dogs leaned into him. Both Dodger and Amelia were in constant motion, twisting and turning to get access to each other and to lick Ollie’s face— still sticky with leftover syrup from breakfast.

Innocently enough, a squirrel scampered into the path a few feet ahead for a fallen nut; it froze when both dogs immediately noticed it. Dodger and Amelia moved as one towards the squirrel, their playful demeanor was gone and now on the prowl. Ollie, caught up between them and their leashes, was knocked down face-first on the asphalt.

His wail was almost instantaneous, but for a moment, both Chris and Kat had been yanked several steps forward by the dogs, who were pulling full force toward the escaping squirrel. Ollie’s sobs pulled Kat’s attention and she yelled, “Amelia!” Yanking on the leash and looking over her shoulder at Ollie, who was struggling to sit up with his big coat.

“I’ve got them,” Chris reached over and took the leash, pulling both dogs back the best he could. He was strong, but their hunter modes had been activated and they were fiercely refusing to budge.

Kat fell to her knees in front of Ollie. She was usually a patient mom, allowing him a moment before she scooped him up. But this was new. His screams and cries were different than he’d ever had before and she lifted him to her shoulder whispering, “I got you, baby. Mommy’s got you,” while she got to her feet.

She turned to Chris, reaching out for Amelia’s lead, but he shook her off, “I’ll walk back with you. Your hands are full.” Ollie’s sobs in her ears made her head ring and she just nodded, starting back around the lake at a brisk pace. For a few paces, Chris was still wrangling the dogs, but quickly they were beside her. Ollie clung to her shoulders; each time he pressed his little face into her, he wailed louder. She’d never heard him like this and she felt her anxiety rising and a prickle of sweat along the back of her neck as she picked up her speed.

The backyard was in sight and she was all but running to get to it, letting Chris take a step ahead and pull the back gate open and not stopping when she got to the back door. She crashed into it, forgetting, in her rising panic, that she’d locked it and Ollie let out another screech when he bounced off her shoulder. She fumbled in her coat, trying to flap her gloves off for better access, when Chris was again beside her asking, “Which pocket?”

“Back left.”

Any other moment she would’ve thought about the feeling of his hands moving her coat to the side and sliding into her jeans pocket, all but cupping her ass as his fingers had to reach all the way into the pocket to get the small bunch of keys, but right now, she pushed the tingle away and stepped aside to let him unlock the door.

She set Ollie on the kitchen counter and immediately noticed the blood trailing down from a cut on his forehead. Kat got him out of his jacket and then stripped off her own, plus her gloves and hat, uncharacteristically leaving them in a pile on the floor. As Kat examined the cut, Chris lightly touched her lower back, reminding her he was still in the room, and softly said, “Tell me where your first aid stuff is, and I’ll get it.”

Kat just looked at him a moment, somehow in a daze, and then she nodded, giving him directions to the laundry room with the first aid kit. Both dogs trailed him– Dodger to explore the new smells and Amelia out of curiosity at what this man was doing in her house. All three returned; Amelia got comfortable in her bed by the fireplace, Dodger making himself just as comfortable practically on top of her in the same bed, and Chris passed behind Kat, running his hand lightly along her back, and set the kit next to Ollie, opening it and starting to pull out antiseptic wipes, ointment, and bandages.

With the help of lots of hugs and a gentle chant of, “You’re safe now, I got you, baby,” his sobs had subsided and he was now only sniffling. His tears and the blood had mingled down his cheek and Kat used a wet paper towel to wipe up some of it, before getting to work bandaging up the cut. It was bigger than she’d realized, but not very deep, so she let Chris hand her supplies and then handed used items to him to discard. When Ollie would yelp or sniffle, Kat would stop to soothe him and Chris would put a hand on Kat’s shoulder or back, doing what he thought would feel comfortable at the moment.

Twenty minutes later and a cup of chocolate milk later, Kat had soothed Ollie entirely and had planted him on the comfy sofa with an episode of Bluey playing. Dodger had immediately left his spot with Amelia and joined Ollie on the sofa; Amelia, not to be outdone, settled in on his other side. Ollie grinned at both of them, his little bandaged forehead wrinkling when his face lit up. Kat turned to start cleaning up the mess she’d created in the kitchen. To her surprise, the jackets and accessories were no longer on the floor, nor were their boots, and the first aid kit was no longer on the counter. Chris came back into view as she finished processing and he smiled at her, putting his hands on his hips.

The silence stretched between them, only occasionally broken by the soft giggles that Bluey elicited from Ollie. They watched each other tentatively, neither knowing exactly how to move forward. It was certainly new territory for both of them. How often do you end up standing in a cozy kitchen and listening to a children’s cartoon with the person you had a one-night-stand with weeks before?

It felt like middle school; they kept making eye contact and then neither knew what to do or say, so they’d blush furiously and avert their eyes only to do it again seconds later. After a solid minute, Kat finally started to move across the kitchen toward the fridge. Chris was still hovering by one of the barstools with his hands shoved in his pockets. She started to pull things out of the fridge and freezer, piling them on the kitchen counter, and then moved to the pantry, gathering more items before pulling out a pot, a huge cast-iron pan, a stack of plates, and two glasses.

She filled one with water from the filter on the fridge and slid it across the island to where Chris was standing and watching her. She gave him a tentative smile and then turned back around to the gathered items and asked, “Grilled cheese?”

Chris was silent while he took a sip of water, suddenly realizing how dry his throat had become just watching her in her home… with her son… He hadn’t thought twice about making sure the three of them got home okay and that Ollie wasn’t seriously injured. It had just felt normal, natural to walk next to her with the dogs, to listen to her talk to her son, and to offer her a comforting touch. And then suddenly he’d had his hand cupping her ass while he tried not to grope for her house key. They’d moved together with surprising ease when he grabbed the first aid supplies and played nursemaid while she bandaged and soothed Ollie. Then cleaning up had been easy– he could see how nervous she’d gotten when Ollie was hurt, and cleaning up the kitchen was the least he could do.

Now she was moving around her kitchen again, heating frozen soup from a Tupperware container and melting butter in the cast iron. Her hips swayed ever so slightly with each movement and he wanted to put his hands on them, to feel the curve of her ass again.

“Chris?”

Fuuuuuck she was staring at him. No longer was she moving casually around the kitchen but she had one hip leaning against the counter, her hand resting lightly on the other, and she was staring at him with an eyebrow quirked.

“Uhh–”

“Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich? I’m going to make lunch for Ollie and me. I have some soup too if you’d like it.”

“Yeah,” he said too quickly and cleared his throat, “yeah, that would be great, thank you. Can I help?”

She shook her head, turning back to the stove, “How long have you had Dodger?”

Chris jumped into the story of meeting Dodger and Kat was glad he couldn’t see her face blushing, and even if he had, she would’ve blamed it on her face hovering over the hot pans. The silence was killing her. She was normally so comfortable in silence– she was happy in her own company or just with Ollie and Amelia. The silence was golden– especially as a toddler mom. But the silence that stretched between the two of them was… charged.

It was far from awkward.

It was the kind of silence that falls between two people who’ve fucked. And are thinking about what it would be like to do it again.

Kat could feel his eyes on her every time she turned around. She tested her theory, swinging her hips ever so slightly to the Bluey theme song from the next room and listening to the counter stool scratch on the floor as he rearranged his position. Then she “dropped” the dish towel and bent over to pick it up, followed by a grunt, covered quickly by a cough and a gulp of water.

Eventually, she was out of items to prep at the stove and had to start putting dishes in the sink, which put her face-to-face with him. She caught his eye again while he watched her push up the sleeves of her sweater and his Adam’s apple bobbed. How her exposed forearm was attractive was a mystery to Kat, but Chris was squirming from his seat. He’d finished telling her about meeting Dodger and an electric silence had fallen between them again.

“What about Amelia?”

Kat laughed, running a sponge over the spatula, “Ames found me. When I was still living in Hartford I was out for a run one morning. There was an animal adoption fair going on in the park and a pen of rescued puppies had broken. The puppies had escaped and the volunteers were frantic. I passed them while I was running and just tried to stay out of the way. Next thing I know there was this little fluffy delight keeping pace with me. She stayed with me for almost half a mile before I finally stopped laughing at her and thought about taking her back.”

“And the name?”

“Oh well, when I took her back to the adoption folks we all kept making jokes about her running away and, you know, taking flight. I have a slightly too intense fascination with Amelia Earhart… it just seemed to fit.”

Chris nodded, watching fondly as Kat spoke about Amelia. She’d pulled her attention away from Chris and was looking towards the sofa with a soft smile. Without warning she walked away from the kitchen and into the living room. He watched her lean over the back of the sofa and kiss Ollie’s head before she was ruffling Amelia’s fur. The dog craned her neck back and leaned into Kat. Chris took it all in, the tender moment with Kat’s children, the strip of skin exposed when she leaned over, her ass in the air, and then Dodger’s jealousy taking over when he sprawled across Ollie to join the snuggles. Both Ollie and Kat giggled, and Chris couldn’t stop his own grin.

Kat laughed again when she came back to the island, washing her hands and turning back to the stove. “Sorry, I can’t resist them sometimes, they’re just so cute.”

“I get it, Dodge is the love of my life.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty big sentiment,” Kat glanced over her shoulder with a smirk as she dropped bread into the heated pan with a soft sizzle.

Chris shrugged, “I’ve never had a relationship as pure as that one.” “Is he your first dog?”

“No way, I’ve had others, I’ve had girlfriends who’ve had dogs that I loved dearly, but no one has ever been quite like Dodger. He’s just… well, I had his name tattooed on me, and I’ve never had a woman I’ve come close to doing that with.”

Kat laughed, “Okay, so we’re speaking truths today I guess.”

“Sorry,” Chris laughed, “too much?”

“I’m teasing you. I get it. People don’t get it when I say similar things about Ollie or Amelia. But there are just some souls that you feel a deeper connection to. I don’t mean I want to marry my son or my dog. I just mean that they’re…” she trailed off, looking sheepish and putting her focus back on the pan in front of her.

“I know what you mean,” he said softly, moving around the island as she put two grilled cheeses on the cutting board beside her. He started to slice the first one into small pieces and Kat did a double take.

“How did you know to do that for Ollie?”

“This isn’t for Ollie, I’m just a Hollywood diva and chewing takes too much effort,” Chris held her eyes and kept a straight face for several seconds, causing Kat to stare at him and start to stutter. He broke into a grin and shook his head, returning to cut, “My sister has kids.”

“The diva thing seemed legit,” Kat smirked at him, earning her hip bump from Chris. Kat’s heart sped up at the simple, flirty move and she tried to focus on not burning the next sandwiches in the pan.

After cutting the sandwich, he plated it on a little wooden owl plate that Kat had waiting on the counter and carried it to the kitchen table where Ollie’s high chair stood. He went back and grabbed the rest of the supplies, setting the table for lunch for the three of them. Kat gathered Ollie and buckled him in while Dodger and Amelia circled like sharks under him, waiting for dropped cheese, before Kat kicked them out and back into the bed by the fireplace. Ollie’s babbling, singing, and giggling kept the adults entertained and their focus off of each other for the whole meal. Kat watched as Chris interacted with Ollie, leaning in intently and nodding along while Ollie rambled. Chris would ramble right back and they’d both roar with laughter while they made goofy faces at each other.

She finished ahead of them and sat back in her seat, watching the two of them, and thinking about the moment she’d never seen Ollie share with any other man. Her father, when they were around, was a loving grandfather but wasn’t nearly as animated– unless he was holding Ollie and explaining the football lineups. Ben and Kevin Facetimed with Ollie frequently, but it was hard for a 20-month-old to sustain his attention. He’d truly never had a man give him this kind of undivided attention. It was both endearing and terrifying to see how quickly they settled into a rapport after being perfect strangers two hours ago.

“Finished, Momma,” Ollie turned to Kat covered in tomato soup and waving his hands in sign language. She moved to get up, but Chris held a hand out to her, popping the last of his crust in his mouth.

“I got ya, little dude,” he scooped Ollie out of the high chair and onto the floor. Quick as a flash, he had his plate and Ollie’s in the dishwasher before leaning down on his knees to get on the toddler’s level. “Can you show me your favorite toy?”

Ollie grinned and nodded, grabbing Chris’s hand in his and tugging him towards the playroom. He dropped to the ground commanding, “Sit,” to Chris before starting to pull out his favorite train set. Kat sat frozen at the table, watching it all unfold in awe. Chris immediately set to work building a track and letting Ollie bark directions at him while he followed the best he could.

Kat used the moment of peace to finish cleaning up, glancing back at the two every so often to find them still amid construction with the occasional “choo chooooo” noise from one of them as a train traveled the tracks.

When she’d run out of things to clean and put away, she wandered into the adjoining living room and continued to watch them for a few minutes before she finally had to intervene. “Ol, we’ve got to go up for a nap, buddy. Can you say goodbye to Chris?”

“I should get out of your hair anyway,” Chris got to his feet as Kat scooped Ollie into his arms; he dropped his head onto her shoulder and rubbed his eyes, reminding Kat that she didn’t have too long to chat.

“Thank you,” she looked at Chris, allowing her eyes to bounce between his to capture him in a serious moment. “Seriously, for getting us back here in my panic and then for entertaining him. I appreciate it a lot.”

Chris shrugged, waving her off, “Anytime, I’m happy to hang with him,” he reached out to ruffle Ollie’s hair.

Their eyes met again and lingered, Kat unintentionally biting her lip and Chris’s eyeline following the movement. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she stepped forward and slid an arm around Chris’s waist, Ollie’s head still resting on her shoulder. She perched up on her toes and went to kiss his cheek.

Chris turned at the last moment, connecting their lips and taking the chance to hold her waist. Kat immediately reciprocated his kiss, leaning into him briefly before her brain caught up with her body; as quick as it started, it stopped and she jumped away from him.

“Shit,” he muttered, “I’m sorry– I just–”

“It’s fine. I should… I’m going to just… I need to put him down.” Chris nodded, “Dodger and I will head home.”

Kat stared at him, her mind racing, her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and forced herself to walk away and up the stairs.