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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years

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Freak (One Shot)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Warnings: your writer being a dick about the otp

Word Count: this is the first time that I had to remind a therapist about a session. Usually it was me who would forget about sessions or even booking sessions. But that was also because I was scared. Now I know that in order to get better I need to make a few changes with my way of thinking. Bonus? I did not cry during this PMS cycle.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"...in summary, you touch any of my playthings, you will have to deal with the consequences." Kruge wants to pierce those eyeballs out but he has to stop himself in case he is taken a prisoner for harming the new king of Jotunheim on the very first night. "Understood, your grace," Helbindi gives a little bow and waits for Loki to open the door to his chamber before he lets his fangs out in pure animosity for the God.

Loki makes sure to close the door behind him before he closes his eyes and rests his head on the silver frame with a thud. At least he won't have to keep up the facade of being composed all the time in this room. Did I make the right decision? His thoughts are running at a speed that would be considered normal for Pietro. This is the last place Aellae would invade. He inhales a lungful, his mind addressing a hint of lilac in the cold air. That is if she hadn't already done that. And all the fingers are pointing at Helbindi. I am sure Helbindi has something to d-wait...Lilac?

Those computing brows are suddenly furrowing in curiosity while those eyes open to dart around the room in question. At the other end of this immaculate and massive bedroom, you walk out from the direction of the bath, your wet hair a beautiful mess, your skin glowing in the faint light reflecting off the shining frost, your dark blue pyjama shorts showing off those legs that seemed to have toned a little, thanks to the workout this deadly trip has provided. Out of nowhere, winds are blowing into the bedroom from the balcony to bring Loki more of that lilac scent you are covered in right now. Those teasing soft punches of air are doing their best to tickle your exposed skin while teasing the God with a little bit of peek of some more. He does not realise it but Loki's eyes are stuck on you, his throat trying to gulp down whatever is frozen in there, just not ready to digest the poetry unfolding in front of him. Normally he would have scolded you for putting your used towel on that chair, but right now all his brain can comprehend is you raising your leg on his bed to apply some lotion on it. Your head turns in his direction and he is suddenly finding himself running into the sole vase on his right side. He is Loki- the God of mischief- so, of course, it does not take much time to bring that vibrating vase to a standstill. But he still keeps holding for another moment or two, for the fear that it might move again. Any third person witnessing this can tell it is not exactly the vase he is trying to still. "This painting is nice," he murmurs to himself while looking at a pictureless frame decorating the wall to his side, pointing to it and pretending to appreciate it. His hands, though, cannot seem to find a comfortable position. "You're back?" you ask him, still working on your leg. "Hmm?" He pretends to notice you for the first time, still not ready to lock his eyes with you, instead, playing with his fingers. "Oh, yes. Just...had to give a couple of instruction to the...uhh...boys." "I don't like that Helbindi guy-" you screw your nose and Loki seems to lose a couple of ounces of air- "he gives off bad vibes." "Yeah, yeah he does," he agrees with you, walking slowly and calculatingly towards the bedroom part of the room. Your leg switches. "I'm glad that you have the majority though. That too considering you have been away for a looooong time." You raise your head and he busies himself in the ferns kept at the entrance of the bed-chamber before asking himself what his idiotic ass was trying to do. Finally finding the strength, he looks back up at you and nods with a smile. Walk to the other side of the bed, he is practically giving the basic instructions to his brain now. She isn't going out like this, is she? That one part of his brain clad in some dark crevices questions him. That one simple thought seems to raise multiple silent alarms in his body. "So-" he tries to point at you and the door but fails and instead takes his finger to scratch an itch at the back of his neck- "you're going to sleep in now?" That glowy leg worth months of hair growth suddenly drops on the floor. And so does your face. Loki cannot make out what you're thinking because he is busy waiting for your answer. "You want me to sleep somewhere else?" It's just a softly put question. But your eyes seem to glimmer in sadness as if he just betrayed you some way. "What?" he is more surprised by the fact that you did not think of it as a possibility. Why would she sleep somewhere else? We've been doing it the whole trip! Well, the whole trip did not have rooms like this one, balconies like this one and certainly not a view like this one. Loki breathes, opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes out for a good few seconds. He is still trying to make his mind look away from all the stray water droplets falling from your hair inside your clothes. "No-" he blinks, bringing his eyes back to yours, licking his lips, he is soft in his speech- "um, you stay here." Loki, you are a God. With the sudden reminder, he clears his throat, straightens his back and brings back that dominating energy in the room. "You stay here," he orders this time. Your quick smile is already melting that robust core of his. And that quick jump on his bed catalysis the effect. "Cool!" You sit there with your legs folded under you, thighs spread, and that shirt not covering as much as it is supposed to. "Woah!" you snapped him out of his trance as you took a little jump on the bed. The sudden glow in your eyes was sending a tingling sensation down his spine. "Oh," you exclaimed, going up and down on your thighs, "we finally have a hard mattress! God, I'm old!" Loki just stood there, watching you arch your back as you went up and down, testing the bed, and at the same time testing his fortitude. Why-why is she not wearing a bra? Loki smacks his inner self. That's what concerns you right now? "Stop that," he growls. One final jump and you are falling on your back with a long sigh. That tingle seems to have subsided but as it is going back, Loki's gaze cannot seem to come off your body- you lying with your limbs spread out as you groan out loud to remove that fatigue from your lungs. That double chin of yours is quite evident when you raise your head just a little to look for the quilt and bring it closer to you with your feet. Who does she think she is? A part of Loki asks. Beautiful, his inner voice answers without a pause, all dreamy eyes for you and your double chin. "By the Norns, you have to stop," the God growled again, making you pause your leg mid-air with the quilt in between your toes. You drop that quilt just like that and turn to rest your head on your palm. "Stop and...?" that low hoarse tone of your mixed with a wicked glow in your eyes lights up a section inside the God he should not be thinking about. Especially when it has the power to take over his brain. The next time he opens his eyes, you can witness a change in that usually brooding boy to something more...feral? Those bloody eyes of the only Jotun you know are sending you mixed reverberations. By the time you are trying to figure out what it is behind those eyes, Loki's leg is already on the bed and his body over you within two strides. Your hips are locked in by his thighs and he is looking down at you with a simmering gaze. You are definitely questioning all your freaky actions tonight. But I thought I would tease him a little! You know, to get his mind off serious stuff going outside that door!! And here you are, lying under Loki, your hands clasped close to your chest while your eyes are trying to figure out his next move, all the while unconsciously biting your lower lip. Not gonna lie, this blue version of him kinda looks sex- Loki's hands go down, right between his legs. You are about to catch your breath and cross your legs when his hands yank out the quilt from between the two of you to lay it over you. Your lips are still apart, mouth gaping, breaths at a pause while Loki flattens the fabric out over you till your neck before tucking it on your either side to the point that you cannot escape it even if you wanted to. Your brows furrow in disappointed confusion. Your hands are making that universal gesture of 'what the fuck???' under that damned sheet whereas Loki is proudly looking at his work. "That should keep you warm." “Dude!” Is all you can let out from your lungs before letting your body struggle to get out of this cosy prison. Loki gets up and away from the bed to undo his coat, looking away from you and smiling at this little achievement. “Don’t waste your breath, darling. I learned it from my mother. You cannot get out of that hold unless you have calmed down enough to-“ His words disappear when he turns back to witness you already deep in sleep; your lips parted, your head practically drowning in the pillow, and little snores already forming in your nostrils. “How exhausted were you to sleep within seconds?” He whispers, never taking his eyes off. I need to teach her not to sleep with her guard down in suspicious places.

The coat lay on the floor along with the familiar pants and shirt. Loki sits on the bed in a nightgown, letting his back rest on the bed frame while his eyes gather some much needed light sleep. The night outside is still if not for the periodic interruptions of crows here and there. The chill of this frozen land comes as a blessing for this Jotun, who is no longer regulating his temperature as per the Midgardian ways. His Jotun form too is breathing fine, even feeling better than before. A true blessing in disguise. “Mmm…no…I don’t like it…” you mumble in your sleep, opening Loki’s eyes before he knows what’s happening. His hand automatically reaches out for you, coming to rest on your forehead before realising he cannot use magic to get rid of any bad dreams. So, instead, he softly pats your head. Your sleep laden crinkled brows seem to find some peace from those soothing pats, going back to dreamless sleep and loud snores. Loki cannot help but burst into a silent laugh at those snores. How can someone so small and comparatively frail snore worse than a giant?! That laugh that crinkles the edge of his eyes seems to be slowly melting into a smile; and not any ordinary smile at that. It is bringing a sweet realisation with it; a realisation about this human. Among seven billion humans, this one seems to have brought him the comfort he never even dared to feel. The past few days spent in this human's company were far lighter and chirpier than the most extravagant days spent as a child in Asgard. There was no anxiety, no restlessness. Whenever he was not able to collect his thoughts, looking at this human used to bring everything to a standstill. Knowing that he is not alone this time brought a certain peace to his soul; brought solutions faster and escape routes quicker than his enemies could calculate. Is this what it's like to have a friend? To have the want to protect them, fight them, tease them, make their life miserable but never let anyone else lay a finger on them? Is this what friendship means?? As if to answer his question, your snores break into a snort before you wiggle inside your duvet to crawl closer to him in your sleep. Your hand stretches out from under the warm cover, take an elongated sigh till it touches Loki's arm and wraps those toasty fingers around his cold muscle. Loki has paused his existence for a second to make sense of this moment. She feels safe with you, a soothing voice inside him resonates in his core and he is watching you in a new light. Some moisture seems to gather at the edge of his eyes before he blinks it away and slides down to rest his head on the pillow right next to yours. He does not realise it but his arm is frozen in that place for you to hold on to it and there is a slight smile on his lips while his eyes are observing every single detail on your face. The God does not seem to notice a bubble being projected out of the bed to overtake the room with a warmth that is emanating from the celestial being himself. And most of all he does not seem to notice the voice hiding in the dark corner somewhere looking at you with heart eyes. I like this human. She can stay.

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nalu-love-4-life · 3 years

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Dragon Swan Song

Author’s Note:

It’s been a very long time since I wrote a drabble on Tumblr for NaLu. But I have had an itch lately to write something for them, because I haven’t written anything passionately in a very long time, and what could be more fun to jump back into writing than to write about my OTP?

I hope you all enjoy this short NaLu drabble where Natsu is a knight assigned to protect the princess, Lucy!

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The skirt of my dress flowed freely around my ankles as I paced back and forth from the end of my bed to the chamber doors. A feeling of impending dread was steadily building in my stomach and each time I stopped to take a breath the anxious knots only seemed to pull tighter. The late morning sunlight streaming in from the balcony created patches of heat on the cool stone floor. While the warmth on my skin brought brief comfort, my thoughts were still troubled and they swirled in my head, going ‘round and around, making me dizzy. My pacing stopped only when I heard a low rapping on the doors behind me.

“Excuse me, Princess. I’m coming in,” a husky voice called.

I swiveled around and straightened my back, and hastily tucked a couple loose strands of hair - which had fallen over my face - behind my ear. After clasping my hands together with a firm grip, I answered, “C-come in!” There was a momentary pause before the doors opened and a familiar mess of pink hair peaked into view.

Natsu, I thought with a soft sigh. I could already feel my worries sliding off from my shoulders. As he stepped into the room, I could see his firm build. He stood almost a foot taller than me and his skin was tanned from spending long days training in the sun.

“Princess Lucy, is everything alright?” He asked. “I could hear your footsteps from the other side of the doors. Is there something on your mind?” His voice was deep and sincere, but the formality of his speech felt strange.

“Y-yes! Everything is fine, really. No need to worry. I’m just overthinking some plans that my father had proposed to me this past evening.” I did my best to brush his concern away with a smile and a curt wave of my hand, but the crease between his eyebrows remained and his lips did not move from the slight frown they were set in.

“Hmm,” he hummed aloud. “Well, though I believe you’re telling me the truth, I cannot take your words at mere face value.”

“Huh?” I questioned.

“You don’t look like you’re in full health, Princess. So I will do my own inspection to make sure you are feeling well,” he said in a raised voice while peering down the long hallway. I waited with anticipation as Natsu quietly shut the wooden doors. He paused, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he slowly breathed in and out. When he turned around and looked at me I could see the glimmer of mischief dancing in his onyx eyes.

“Natsu,” I said. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day. We could be caught!”

He smirked, briefly flashing his sharp canines. A jolt rippled down my spine and my heart beat faster in my chest.

“We’ll be fine, Luce,” he said. Natsu took a couple steps closer to me. He had a confident air about him. “Anyone who was around thinks I’m simply checking on the princess to make sure she’s feeling well. Nothing wrong with that, right?” He raised his eyebrows and the devilish flare grew in his eyes. My knees wobbled underneath the intensity of his stare. As he entered further into the room, the sunlight illuminated the details of his face. I couldn’t help myself from studying him.

The old scar that ran down his right cheek stopped at his jawline, and another stretched across the right side of his neck. The rough skin healed a bit darker than his normal shade, which only made them appear more prominent. His cheeks were dusted a soft rose giving him a healthy and youthful likeness. Light freckles speckled the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, but if you weren’t looking close enough you wouldn’t think he had any at all. There was a bit of dirt on his forehead and his hair was in mild disarray, so he had probably been training in the courtyard or tending to the horses in the stables earlier. My eyes continued to scan over his face. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Like what you see?”

“Huh?!” Startled, my concentration broke and our eyes locked.

Natsu chuckled and closed the little distance that was left between us. His smile was warm. “You’re cute when you get lost in thought,” he muttered bringing his right hand to rest on my cheek. It was as if there was fire in his fingertips. His touch was gentle, but every one set my skin ablaze. I could feel the rough callouses on his palm that had formed from years of hard work wielding his sword and perfecting his skills.

“Don’t tease me like that,” I pouted. My hair fell loose around my shoulders as I turned my head to the side.

“Aw, come on, Luce. I was being serious,” he whined, but the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth gave away his amusement. A gasp escaped my lips as I felt two strong arms circle around my waist and pull me forward. Our bodies pressed together and the palms of my hands rested on his chest. All I could think about was how firm and strong it felt.

“Natsu th-this is embarrassi-!”

“You really are beautiful, Princess,” he murmured. His voice was low and tender and every word sounded so sincere. I really admired that about him. Though sometimes he could be honest to a fault, it was just another one of his many charms.

He used his hand that was on my cheek to brush the hair from my face and place it back behind my ear. “There they are,” he said. “Hey, Doe Eyes.” A quiet chuckle rumbled in his throat.

“Hi,” I whispered almost breathless. Natsu smelled like warm linen and earth, with a hint of something sweet, like honey or vanilla. I wished that I could bottle that scent so I could revisit it whenever, but did my best to focus so I could at least commit it to memory. His dark eyes held me as a willing captive and I couldn’t tear myself away. As frustrating as his teasing could be at times, I was never more at ease than when I was enveloped in his embrace. Whenever it seemed like everything was turning upside down and I felt as if I could float away at any given moment, I could always count on him to tether me and bring me safely back to solid ground.

His face relaxed as he scanned over me. “Now,” Natsu said clearing his throat. “Are you gonna tell me why you were pacing so much? Your footsteps were so loud, I bet everyone in the castle thought an ogre was stomping around in here.” Natsu’s eyebrows lifted and his lips puckered ever-so slightly. I could tell he was holding in laughter.

“How dare you!” I huffed and pushed against his chest so that he would relinquish his hold on me. “And just when I thought you were being genuinely sweet for once.” I crossed my arms over my chest and marched onto the balcony.

There was a cool spring breeze and the sky was bright blue with thin white clouds floating lazily overhead. I positioned myself so that my arms rested against the thick metal railing that overlooked the castle garden. All of the flowers were in full bloom and their many scents mixed in a harmonious melody which filled the air and swirled around me. I took a deep breath in to fully appreciate the wonderful aroma. As my muscles began to relax the sound of heavy boots came closer to my turned back.

Natsu stood quietly beside me with his back leaned against the railing. He craned his neck to the side and looked across the castle grounds. “You always did enjoy the garden, didn’t you?” He asked, although it seemed like it was more of a statement to himself. “Even when we were kids, if you were ever upset you’d always go someplace where you could see the flowers.”

I glanced at him from the side. “Of course I like the garden,” I sighed. “The flowers are pretty, it’s always quiet, and I can lose myself walking around in it. I can pretend like I don’t have a care in the world—like I can do whatever I want—be whoever I want—love whoever I-” I stopped myself and turned to look at Natsu. He was smiling at me, but it was small and there was sadness underneath. Natsu shifted his eyes away from me and turned around so that he faced the garden. His broad shoulders slumped forward and his weight pressed down on his forearms that he’d rested on the railing.

“Do you remember that day?” He asked. “When we met?” I ran my eyes over his face, trying to discern what he might be thinking. “You were picking daisies in the far corner of the garden to make a makeshift crown, and I was running from Makorov ‘cuz I accidentally tore a hole right through his trousers with my sword.”

“As I recall, you caused that tear because you were sparring with Gray again over who was going to get to eat the last slice of Miss Mira’s strawberry shortcake that she’d baked earlier that day,” I mocked. “But then Erza knocked your heads together, claimed it for herself, and ate it right in front of you! So neither you nor Gray got any cake and you were both punished for fighting—no sweets for a whole month!” I raised my hand to cover my mouth as I laughed.

“Y-yeah… Erza’s scary,” Natsu muttered.

I stood with my hands on my hips and gave a disapproving stare. “I haven’t forgotten how you ran straight into me and crushed all of my daisies before I could make that crown, by the way,” I said. “And you caused me to fall face first into the dirt and ruin the new dress Father had gotten for me, too,” I huffed. Natsu grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “I remember getting an earful about that too.”

I scoffed in mild amusement. “It’s fine. To be quite honest, Father always ordered the most stuffy dresses back then, anyway, and the one you ruined was particularly stifling to wear,” I said. “Especially when I was out in the garden.”

“Well, I wish you had said something back then before Erza chewed me out for that in between mouthfuls of cake,” Natsu laughed.

“Why would I when it’s so amusing to see how you and Gray shake like puppies when she scolds you?” He pretended to pout at my taunting which only made me laugh more. “Miss Erza’s not so terrible, you know,” I said gaining my composure.

“You only think that because you’ve never had to fight her. After one training session I can barely move for days whenever she’s put in charge of combat practice. She’s merciless!” He whined.

I giggled and Natsu turned his head so he could look at me. His eyes were serious when they met mine. Something about his steady gaze threw my stomach for a whirl. “W-what is it?” I asked.

Natsu shifted his weight and stood tall. His stature blocked the sun and cast a shadow over me. To someone else, he might seem scary using his full height to his advantage like this. But to me, he was no more threatening than a dragonfly.

“Lucy,” he said. His voice came off stern but his eyes were almost pleading. “Tell me why you’ve been so stressed lately. I won’t continue to pretend like I haven’t noticed.” Natsu took my hand in his. I could feel his thumb tracing gentle circles over the tops of my fingers. Unlike before, he kept a respectable distance between us and was careful to hide our clasped hands behind the railing.

We couldn’t risk the groundskeepers or any other castle attendant seeing us, and the balcony was a very public spot. Any affectionate display witnessed by the wrong person was sure to circulate through the castle grapevine, and there would surely be repercussions to face. I knew this, of course, but I still felt my heart longing.

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Author’s End Note:

I hope you all enjoyed this first installation of this NaLu drabble as much as I enjoyed writing it! Sorry to leave you all on a bit of a cliffhanger there but it was getting much longer than originally intended haha Should I continue it and make it a real story? If you want more please like, comment, and/or DM me and let me know what you think! And make sure to follow me on here on tumblr for any updates on this story and so you don’t miss any other Fairy Tail NaLu drabbles or fanfic posts/art or story reblogs!

❤️ nalu-love-4-life

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cower-before-power · 3 years

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Another Piece of the Puzzle

*gif has nothing to do with this story i just like it haha*

Summary: Charlotte and Yami add another piece to the puzzle of their shared life

Pairing: Yami x Charlotte

TW: swearing, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

Link to A03 here

A/N: So I had another baby this past summer so I guess I’m in my baby feels ha and just had to write something fluffy for the OTP. Also Yami with a baby makes my ovaries go wooooooooo. Enjoy, sweet potatoes!

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“Why’s it so red?”

She rolls her eyes, the tiny movement feeling overwhelmingly exhausting. “That’s just how they come out. And she’s your daughter, not an ‘it’, you moron.”

The being in question gives a quiet little grunt, as if agreeing. Yami chuckles quietly.

“Already siding with your mother, I see,” he says, shifting the tiny bundle in his arms. She feels her heart swell at the sight; Yami Sukehiro, the rough, uncouth, take no shit Magic Knight Captain, cradling a baby with the utmost delicacy. Not just any baby: their baby.

Holy shit, she is a mother. Even though she’d went through nine months of carrying her, and then unimaginable hours of labour, she still can’t quite wrap her head around it. She’d always had a constant sliver of anxiety and fear ever since she’d found out she was with child. She didn’t know anything about being a mother, what if she was terrible at it?

Surprisingly, Yami had been very level headed and reassuring throughout the whole thing. “It’s normal to be scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But after all the shit we’ve seen and done, a baby can’t be that hard.”

(Except for the labour. He’d been a hot mess for that. She hadn’t known whether to laugh, cry or punch him in his stupid face when he’d shouted “Surpass your limits Charlotte! Surpass them right now!” during a particularly rough contraction.)

Well, whatever came their way, they’d figure it out. To think there was a time she could barely hold it together in his presence, and now she is watching him with their child.

“She still needs a name, you know,” she says, reaching out to stroke the dark downy hair that covers their daughter’s head. “Are you sure you don’t want to give her a name from your home country?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, she’s already gonna have my last name, that’s a good enough connection to the past for me. Besides, this is my home now.”

He says it casually, but his eyes meet hers with a softness that takes her breath away. He doesn’t mean the Clover Kingdom. He means here with her, with their daughter. Tears pool in her eyes, and she hastens to blink them away. Was he trying to kill her today? Her heart was going to burst if it was filled with any more happiness. “Do you have any ideas then?”

He hums in thought. “She needs a badass name. She’s got two super badass parents, after all.” His brow furrows for a moment, then his eyes light up.

“Katana!” He shouts, and the little bundle in his arms wakes with a cry at the noise. He quickly rocks it with a few shushing noises, and the sound subsides. She’s vaguely impressed by how good he is at that already.

“You can’t be serious. You want to name her after your sword?”

He grins, his trademark cigarette bouncing with the movement. “Why not? Nothing’s more badass than being named after a deadly weapon.”

Her mouth drops open. He is serious, that asshole! She crosses her arms. “We are not naming our baby after your stupid sword!”

“It’s not stupid!” He says defensively. “She’s gonna grow up to be an ass kicking tough gal with a ton of strong magic, it’s a perfect name. Better than some wishy washy royal name that the King of Hard Noses would pick for his kid or something.”

He softens his face into a puppy dog pleading look, the kind she once thought she’d never see on his face (but was surprisingly common these days, he knows it usually makes her cave). “Come on, Prickly Queen. You can even call her Kat for short.”

Kat Sukehiro. It doesn’t sound half bad.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No!”

“Awww come on, Charlotte.”

She stares into his begging face, so stupid and so damn good looking. She sighs, feeling her resolve crumble into dust. It really isn’t a bad name. Damn this man and his effect on her! She’d give him the bloody moon if he asked her.

“Alright, fine. But everyone is going call her Kat, not Katana, understood?”

He grins that stupid shit-eating grin she’s grown begrudgingly fond of. “Your wish is my command, Prickly Queen.”

She lets out a “hmmmmph,” crossing her arms. “It better be.”

He laughs at her, and adjusts the newly named Kat so he can lean in and press his lips to hers.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into their kiss, and she knows he doesn’t just mean the name. The tears are back; it should be her thanking him. For breaking her stupid curse. For respecting her. For encouraging her strength. For loving her with a fierceness that can’t be rivalled. For making this perfect creation with her.

She kisses him harder, words stuck in her throat, and she knows he understands.

Feet pound down the hallway. Voices yell. The door to her room shakes as multiple fists knock in unison.

“Mister Yami!!! Where’s the little brat??”

True to Black Bull fashion, his unruly squad interrupts their moment by trying to break down her door.

“I told you not to come up till I said so, you dumbasses!” Yami growls, pulling away from her. “We’re having a damn family moment here!”

“Sorry Sir! Sorry Captain Charlotte!”

“I’ll kill you, you idiots!”

She laughs, wiping away the lone tear that managed to wend its way down her cheek. “It’s alright. They’re your family too. Let them meet their new little sister.”

“Tch,” Yami sighs, but she can hear the fondness in his voice. “Alright, idiots. Come in and see her then. But no touching! And don’t crowd me, dammit!”

They don’t listen of course. They’re in the door and immediately crushing around him, shouting and cooing compliments. They are a million times more rowdy than her Knights will be when they visit later, but she can’t bring herself to be upset. Little Kat is only hours old yet already surrounded by so much love.

“I said don’t crowd me, morons!”

“Sorry sir!”

She smiles at the scene. Her already full heart is spilling over in a fountain of boundless happiness. Yami meets her gaze above the sea of bobbing heads, face stoic but his eyes betray him. He’s deliriously happy too; they’re fulfilling a dream that once danced far out of reach. Magic Knights, Squad captains, lovers, parents. An eccentric blended family tied by bonds far greater than blood. Each a piece added to the intricate and beautiful puzzle of their shared lives.

It is not complete. It won’t be until they depart for whatever lies beyond. But it will be a joy to build it, to interlock each piece. Even the ones painted with hardships and sorrow; she will place them will strong hands, for she knows brighter ones will come.

And the final picture, she thinks as she watches Yami proudly show off their daughter, will be beautiful.

#yami x charlotte #yami sukehiro #yami sukehiro imagine #charlotte roselei #charlotte roselei imagine #yamichar #yamichar fic #yamichar imagine #yami sukehiro fic #charlotte roselei fic #black clover #black clover fic #black clover imagine #my writing

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falling-pages · 3 years

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Avec Moi (With Me): Tamaki x Renge

Welp, thought too hard about my favorite French pair and now I've got a new OTP. Please enjoy this fluffy one shot about them T_T

- There is French in this one shot! a translation will be provided at the end. -

Tamaki Suoh x Renge Houshakuji Genre: Fluff, Mafia AU What to expect: Fluff, first kiss, whump/caretaker, protective!Renge, injured!Tamaki Warnings: Mentions of guns, shootings, mafia violence

“Not too tight, Hikaru! You'll cut off his circulation!"

“Wouldn’t be any less useful than he is anyways.”

“If it’s too tight, maybe he’ll wake up and tell us.”

“He’ll wake up when his body allows.”

The words were muffled, buried through layers of cotton in Tamaki’s ears. Brief soundwaves rolled through his head, disappearing as soon as they were uttered. In between seconds-long spells of consciousness before falling under again, his brain rushed to decipher his predicament. He remembered being out on a mission. He remembered the cool steel of the pistol against his palm. He remembered spotting the sleek black car of his target--then he remembered a shout, a burning sensation in his thigh, Mori tackling him to the ground. There was darkness, Kyoya’s voice floating in and out, the squeal of tires on asphalt. Then, and ever since, more darkness.

But he couldn’t remember, for the life of him, how he ended up back at Headquarters.

Tamaki stirred at the feeling of something tightening around his leg. The pain triggered him, allowing him to open one eye. Dim light slithered through his lashes. The stirring pulsing of his blood rushed to his head, giving him the strength to sit up.

When he did, he was immediately pressed back into the arm of the couch, rough hands digging into his shoulders and pressure points. He tried to squeal, but his throat rubbed dry.

“Nuh uh, we aren’t letting you off that easy,” said a familiar voice. “After all the trouble you went through of messing up the mission and getting shot? Don’t think you’re getting out scot-free, boss. I’m not letting you pass out again.”

As energy rushed him, darkening the edges of his vision, Tamaki allowed the hands to push him down. The last thing he needed was to stand up too quickly and get a concussion on his way down. He struggled to even out his breathing until the hands let him go, until only one lay curled on his chest.

It was small and warm, long nails scratching through his shirt. He felt them crossing over his collarbone, scoping out the valley where this throat met his chest, lightly tracing his bicep and coming to rest over his heart. The touch kept him anchored, focused on staying awake to follow the gentle trail they left across his chest.

And when he opened his eyes, he saw those fingers belonged to Renge.

His heart rose in his throat. The perfectionist, the screamer, the one who consistently demanded 110 percent had her hand near his throat, and though he didn’t remember much of the mission, the excruciating pain in his lower thigh signaled something had gone wrong. He wasn’t ready to hear her yell at him---Kyoya may be the founder of this gang, but Renge ran the show.

His tongue felt too heavy to lift, leaving him speechless as he gazed into her caramel brown eyes. She looked displeased, but not at him; instead, directing that rage towards Hikaru and yelling something he couldn’t quite understand. But when she looked back at him, running her index finger down his cheek, there was something in her eyes that saved him from darkness.

“Bon gar��on,” she praised as he held eye contact. She smiled, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, brushing her lips against the hot skin. He was burning up from his injuries and the alcohol poured down his throat. Her heart had clenched to see him pinned down and forced to swallow the bitter drink, but his only hope of surviving the surgery was if he were knocked out during it--which, as he laid there, looking up at her with big, sleepy doe eyes, had been an attested success.

The offending bullet laid on the coffee table behind her.

Renge continued to caress his forehead, unable to believe he was safe, lying in front of her, residual worry and relief bubbling in her chest. Hikaru sighed obnoxiously loud.

“Oui? Can we help you?” she snapped, curling her arm around Tamaki protectively, sheltering him from the abuse she knew was coming now that he was awake.

Hikaru rolled his eyes and knotted the bandage. His fingers ached--drawing the short end of the stick meant he was stuck on bandage duty all day while the others plotted strategy and revenge. Watching the two French lovebirds make eyes at each other wasn’t helping his attitude.

“Yeah, can you stop sucking face long enough to keep him awake?” he grumbled. “It’s bad enough we lost the target because he’s not smart enough to look both ways before firing. We don’t need to lose our second chance because you’re too busy telling him fairytales.”

Renge’s eyes flashed in anger, and if Tamaki weren’t there, he was sure she would have backhanded him to Timbuktu. In fact, Tamaki was so drugged up he probably didn’t know what planet he was on. Probably thought he was in France.

“Quit talking to him like that, too,” he added. “You’ll just confuse him.”

“No, confusion would be bombarding him with Japanese as soon as he wakes up!” she retorted. “I need a few minutes every morning to adjust from one language to another. Give him a break, especially since he’s just been shot!”

Shot?

Tamaki bucked against the pressure on his legs and swung his whole body up, hand flying to his side in search of his gun. His heart raced as it came up empty, eyes falling to his empty holster atop the coffee table. Right next to a bloody bullet.

Renge bolted and grabbed his shoulders again, hiding his face in the crook of her neck. It allowed Hikaru a chance to grab his legs, cursing when he saw the newly-bloodied bandage.

“See? Look,” he seethed. “I just changed this. Just leave before you make him have a seizure.”

His stomach grumbled, full of empty promises of a break, and he had his own injuries to tend to from the failed mission today. It didn’t help that Renge completely ignored him.

“Tu es en sécurité, mon chère," she whispered, dragging her hand along his back. She dipped her hand below his shirt traced shapes into his skin, all over the scars and old wounds that never quite healed right over the years. And yet, he was a masterpiece. “Je promets.”

Tamaki didn’t even notice Hikaru throwing up his hands and stomping away. Within the curtain of Renge’s hair he dove into the warmth of her skin, the smell of her jasmine and lily perfume, the way she cradled his broken body with soft hands, whispering familiar words in his native tongue--

He didn’t understand the words she spoke at first, while sleep and fear curdled inside his head; he just knew they sounded like home. Like fresh lavender growing outside his lattice window. Like lamb stew on a cold winter day. Like sunshine beating on his back as he swings from a tree. Despite the pain, he hadn’t felt that safe since coming to Japan.

“J'étais si inquiet,” she whispered into his hair, tears choking her voice. “Je pensais---mon Dieu.”

His arm came up to desperately grip hers, pushing himself further into her embrace like a thirsty man finding a spring. He wanted to swim in it, lap up all the comfort she exuded, breathe in that energy that reminded him of home.

Even as a yakuza member, with power and riches and enemies crushed beneath his feet, all he wanted was her, and the safety she provided.

“Je suis en sécurité?” he asked, hope clenching his heart. He pulled away from her shoulder to meet her gaze, tears sparkling in his eyes.

No failed mission, no rival gang, no pain, no missing target could take away from the peace he found in her lips as they pressed against his, his cheeks, his forehead, back down again to his mouth, tangled in each others’ arms.

The love was flush between as she pulled away with a gentle, promising smile.

“Oui,” Renge said, “avec moi.”

********

Translations:

Bon garçon: good boy Tu es en sécurité, mon chère: You are safe, my dear Je promets: I promise J'étais si inquiet: I was so worried Je pensais---mon Dieu: I thought--oh my God. Je suis en sécurité: I am safe? Oui, avec moi: Yes, with me

#ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #renge houshakuji #tamaki x renge #tamarenge #new otp #tamaki suoh x renge houshakuji

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intothewickedwood · 3 years

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Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 5x22 Only You

Does that mean Storybrooke’s magic is gone now that Rumple has tethered it to the crystal?

Well, I guess he can’t have taken all of it or Regina wouldn’t have been able to teleport etc.

Henry’s relationship with magic is like a freaking rollercoaster. At first, he thinks it’s the best thing in the world, then he hates it so much he wants to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world, then he tries to destroy it, then it’s the best thing in the world! But that’s kids for you, I guess! I’m sure I was like that and still can be. Come to think of it, would putting dynamite in the well in season 2 have destroyed magic?

Is that needle that’s put dozens of people under a sleeping curse the same one Maleficent used on Aurora?

Henry’s literally so powerful. I wish he could use his author powers more.

How is taking the crystal out of SB gonna destroy magic in SB?

Oh, so Rumple tethered the magic but didn’t technically absorb it from the town, so they can still use it.

Why can’t Regina text Henry to say that destroying magic would destroy SB? 

Guess they can go over the town line now, for the first time in like forever. But I guess Emma & Regina & Henry could already cross the threshold, possibly Violet too as she didn’t come over with the first curse. And then the others are brought to New York by a portal. 

Oh! So that’s why they can use magic in the lwom? Because Henry brought the crystal aka all the magic of Storybrooke there.

Aww. Henry and Violet are cute. I just wouldn’t recommend reading the Henry and Violet book if you appreciate their relationship in the show.

Oh, thank God. Zelena does promise to bring baby Robin to visit her brother Roland! I need them to have known each other growing up! I bet they’re really close. And Roland is just as sweet as ever and has to stop his sister being reckless. The Hufflepuff to her Slytherin (+ Gryffindor tendencies), if you will. And I need fics where Roland doesn’t grow up to be vengeful and angry. Once a Hufflepuff cupcake, always a Hufflepuff cupcake.

Did Regina agree to Roland going back to Sherwood Forest? I’m surprised she didn’t adopt him. It must have been the Merry Men’s decision because no way would they take orders from Zelena. 

Aww! Roly kissing his baby sis!! I’m gonna miss you Roly!! Literally the most adorable kid! Aww and Granny kisses him on the head too! I die!!

Look at his little mittens!!

I’m guessing he doesn’t know she killed his mama but maybe he knows that she posed as her and in a strange way enjoyed his time with her? I mean, I guess you can say that as Marian Zelena did, at least, take care of Roland and bond with him. Maybe she always wanted to be a mother? Still doesn’t excuse her killing Marian and posing as her. Just trying to make sense of this hug. Maybe Roland is just super forgiving! And you can say it’s cause he’s a child but let me tell you, I was so much less willing to forgive really terrible things as a child than I am now. 

Omg. They all fell so hard through that portal! Ow!

Emma’s genuinely worried Regina’s gonna put a sleeping curse on her.

Baelfire was trying to destroy magic in New York?

Ron used sellotape to try to fix his wand, so why not?

Omg Davis Bloom, love of my life! Well, it’s Hyde but this guy loves to play literal monsters! Listen, before Once Upon a Time, Smallville was my hardcore special interest show. I rewatched it so many times since I was 9! Anyway, Chloe was my favourite character and I’d always been a Chloe x Clark shipper and then Davis came along and Chlavis became my otp. He loved her so much! He gave her the love and attention she deserved! Yes it was messed up but that’s what 12-year-old me was and is here for! My mum and I were so excited when we found out the actor was gonna be in Ouat! I loved Davis to bits and ngl, was highly attracted to him (as was my mama), so excuse me as I continue to be thirsty over Hyde.

Back to the rewatch!

Hyde strangling people is my jam lol.

Snow, my girl, you really can’t keep a secret. She darn told Hyde about the Dark One’s love being pregnant! Oh well, love her anyway. And also, she was 10.

I’ll never forget, I once cut my eye and it legit looked like one of Hyde’s but scarier. It was so frightening to look at and really uncomfortable, but it healed eventually. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. But it looks cool and sexy on Hyde xD. 

Is that the same book Tilly finds at Henry’s place in 7x14?

Regina: “like with Hook, my first impulse was to rip his throat out.” Jesus Regina! You’re saying that to the woman who just went to the Underworld for Hook and thought she’d lost him forever. He’s someone she loves. That’s intense! As someone who’s been told by a loved one, threateningly, that they are (completely seriously) going to violently kill another loved one, several times, that is so not cool. Luckily no one was killed though, it’s okay. 

I recently read a really interesting meta about Regina’s motivation for redemption being intellectual. Like she says here, she doesn’t want to do good. She hates doing good but she knows that villainous acts won’t get her her happy ending and so she reasons that in order for things to go less awful for her, she must to good. She doesn’t do it because of empathy, guilt or regret, she does it because she figures it’s what the heroes are doing and things are going right for them and because if she goes back to her evil ways she knows she’ll lose Henry and her new and only support network. I think the same can be said for Zelena’s motivations to do good. No shade, just an analysis.

Well at least she’s using the word “I” to express that she did those things. But, she seems more concerned about those things hanging over her than for what she did to her victims and how they felt and suffered.  She even seems more upset at the fact that she has lost a love again than the fact that Robin lost his life and his kids have lost their father.

Hmm. Interesting. She seems to suggest here that before she didn’t know the difference between good and evil. You know what, that could be true because she didn’t really get why people called her the ‘Evil Queen’ and then there’s the fact she was raised by Cora and Henry Sr. Cora probably warped her perception of good and evil and her father positively reinforced a lot of the evil Regina did and didn’t explain to her why the things Cora did and the lessons she taught were wrong.

Why are all those stories in the library? That makes no sense. 

There’s a problem. If the grail is the origin of all magic and Merlin found it around 1500 years before the present (apparently Merlin was a runaway slave too. Of course he flipping was!), how comes Gothel and Seraphina had magic thousands of years ago? I mean, I suppose they were from another land (that Gothel killed almost all the inhabitants of), so I guess people just don’t know magic didn’t originate from the grail. I mean, since the God’s had magic before the grail, and nymphs possibly have relations to gods, I suppose it makes sense that Gothel had magic but then, what about Seraphina? How does she have magic and how did she live so long? Did Gothel cast a spell on her that made her practically immortal or was she already immortal?

Well, that was easy for Rumple lol.

Transforming looks really painful.

The thing is. They shouldn’t have separated Jekyll from Hyde. I think it would have been cooler if they hadn’t. Sure, they can make Jekyll the true villain but why not have the heroes try to save Jekyll as Hyde thwarts their plans at every turn to the point where they have to agonize over hurting Jekyll to defeat Hyde. The same can be said for Regina. Don’t split them up! Just have Regina transform into the Evil Queen so you can’t tell when she’s Regina and when she’s the EQ working on her evil plan. That would’ve been really fun to watch and to try to figure out which persona she was and when! Also, they should have just made Jekyll transform when emotionally compromised rather than when taking the potion because without an assistant Jekyll could have easily lived without Hyde ever returning. 

I hate the look of that wand.

Hydes theme sounds so awesome!

Also, it would have been really cool to explore the Land of Untold Stories. It looks so rad!

How can Hyde summon the portal? Don’t you have to have enough dark magic?! I guess maybe his strength and durability are enhanced by dark magic?

Rumple, I don’t think Belle can here you in that box.

Can I marry Hyde now? I want to marry Hyde. 

#ouat #once upon a time #henry mills #ouat hyde #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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The Fast and Furious Times Of Marinette

Today I found a wonderful tag called Bio Dad AU. Best ones by @musicfeedsmysoul12 . I decided to try a quick hand at it. Weirdly enough, my first thought was the Fast and The Furious. I was a huge fan of serious before Paul Walker died. Brian O'Conner was always my favorite. This is the first fast and furious anything I’ve ever written. I’ve decided it takes place AFTER Fast 6; meaning they all got their pardons. But in this AU. Both SHAWs are alive and well and friends with the team for reason. Brian and Mia are not and have never been together. No offense, but if I’m writing a Fast and Furious fic Dom and Brian are the pairing and will be my OTP.

This is again just a quick fic. A PURE CRACK FIC, so be warned. Might not doing anything more with it.

On with the CRACK.

Marinette is eight-years-old when her racist grandfather tells that Tom isn’t her dad. Marinette had already been one-years-old by the time Sabine met him.

She doesn’t believe it at first but then she looks in the mirror and sees her blue, blue eyes. No one her family has eyes like hers. Then she really looks at the picture of her and her dad together realizes they don’t look alike at all. It’s not even because Marinette is biracial. There is little to no resemblance.

Her parents find her crying on her bedroom floor, clutching her phone to her chest. They are quick to try to comfort her, try to find out what’s wrong, and when they finally come her down enough for her to speak, Marinette looks at the time with big sad eyes and just asks, “Are you, my dad?”

Sabine and Tom are stunned at first, then her question hits them, and realization slowly inches onto their faces. And its all the answer Marinette needs.

Tom loves the little girl he raised so much and as much as he wished he wasn’t her biological father, “In every way that counts I am,” He assures his little girl, “Except blood. But I am your dad. You are my daughter.”

Sabine apologizes for withholding the truth for so long, “We were a family. I was scared,” She admits.

Cue huge family hug.

A few days go by before Marinette has the courage to ask about her biological father, “Who was he?” She suddenly asked. “My father?” The question caused Sabine to stumble and cause an entire cake to hit Tom in the face.

“His name is Brian,” Sabine said as she handed Marinette an old picture of a young sabine with a handsome blonde man with startling blue eyes, Marinette’s eyes, at a food truck near palm trees. “Brian O’Conner. I met him on a beach in LA. I thought he had a serial killer name. He was wild and beautiful, and so free. You’re a lot like him. You have his eyes and his smile. And his heart.”

Marinette stared at the man in the picture, wondering if he too was clumsy if he was the reason she loved to go fast too because she liked to go really, really fast on her bike if he was where she got her daringness, her need to the right thing. “Does he know about me?”

“No,” Her mom answered, “I had already left for Paris by the time I found out. I didn’t want to upheave his life.” Truthfully, she didn’t know how to tell her daughter that her biological father had been a street racer, on the run from the police and spent quite a bit of time in hiding.

It took an hour after Sabine left Marinette along with the picture for the young girl to get angry. Who was this man? What was so important about his life that her mother wouldn’t dare wreck. Marinette was going to find out.

It took some time but with a little research and luck, Marinette was able to find Brian was still in L.A.

Marinette bought a plane ticket using her mom’s credit card, packed a bag, left a note for parents, and left in the middle of the night on a flight to Los Angeles. It had been tricky. Some people asked questions but Marinette just she was visiting her dad in the U.S. She was glad her mom made her learn English as a second language, though now it was obvious as to why.

It took a few hours and had taken a lot different buses, but Marinette found herself standing in front of a white house that was erupting with noise.

“A party?” Marinette asked quietly.

The bluenette swallowed hard and fought the urge to run away. She had come too far. Ignored too many of her parents’ phone calls to back down. She just texted then every day that she was okay and that she would be home soon.

Marinette rang the doorbell.

A tall, bald, handsome, laughing black man answered the door. He nodded at the young girl, “Can I help you?” Girl scout, he thought.

Marinette clutched the strap of her pink bag, “Is Brian O’Connor here?”

Rome’s eyes squinted as he surveyed the girl and then he noticed her eyes. He knew those eyes. The biggest smile spread over his face. “This gonna be good,” He said. “Name’s Roman. Or Rome. Come on inside, my new favorite person in the world.”

Marinette followed the man into the house. She was right. There was a loud, movie-worthy party going on. The music was loud, strange people were dying. She felt more than a little weary and a little claustrophobic. She looked around but didn’t see who she was looking for.

One by one the guest of the party noticed the little girl in pink with pigtails in the room. The music slowly died down. A scary bald man, in a dark wife-beater, with a beer (Corona, Marinette read) and had been laughing with a scruffy breaded man when she entered the room, slowly lost his smile when he noticed her.

He was possibly the scariest man Marinette had never laid eyes on.

“YO Brian,” Roman yelled, the smile still huge on his face. “You got company!”

All eyes turned to her. The scary man got out of his seat and stared at her.

“Oh this can’t be good,” Taj said to Suki, who nodded.

Again Marinette fought the urge to run. She glanced at the floor and bit her lip.

“What’s up, man?” A new voice called which caused her to look back up.

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat a blond man with a case of beers in his hand entered the room. He had aged but he was still as handsome as his picture. Her eyes suddenly stung.

Roman waved at hand from Brian to Marinette.

Brian looked at the girl who, to him, didn’t look much older than seven or eight, maybe. Was she lost? Did she need his help? “Can I help you?”

Heads swerved to the girl.

“Do you remember a woman named Sabine Cheng?” Marinette asked, feeling braver at the mentioned of her mother. “She is my mother.”

Heads swerved back to Brian. Particularly Dom’s who at a sneaking suspicion about what the hell was going on.

Brian’s head was suddenly filled with a beautiful laughing Asian girl, with kind eyes and a don’t fuck with my personality. She had fierce and amazing. Brian had been a little disappointed when Sabine had left for France. Which explained the little girl accent. He hadn’t seen Sabine in what… seven years. A little longer.

His blue eyes’ widened. The beers slipped from his hands and crashed hard onto the floor. “Fuck!”

That was all anyone needed to know exactly what was going on.

“This some Maury shit,” Vince said and took a swallow from here.

Letty nodded, “You are the father.” Those eyes did not lie.

The girl’s blue eyes, his eyes, widened and she took a hasty step back when the beers crashed and shattered onto the floor. “I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have come,” She quickly said. “I’m sorry. I-”

She just wanted to meet him. She needed to meet him. Finding out her dad wasn’t really her dad, dad. Marinette just needed to do something.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Marinette turned for the door.

“That’s enough!” A strong voice said. Marinette turned to see the scary man looking directly at her. “Everyone who isn’t family out. Party’s over. You,” Dom pointed at Marinette, “Stay there.”

There were grumbles from the party guests as they left. But Marinette was surprised just how many people stayed.

“Name’s Dom,” The terrifying guy introduced.

“Marinette,” She said back. “Do you ever lose that scary look on your face.”

“No,” Taj said. “No, he doesn’t” Dom glared at him. “That just makes it worse.”

Brian shoved a hand through his hair. He was shaking. “Are you?” He asked. “I mean, do you like? Daughter?” He managed.

“Translation: You his kid?” Rome smirked.

Brian nodded frantically. Yes, that’s what he meant.

“I found out a few days ago,” Marinette shrugged. “Mom told me about you.”

“I didn’t know,” Brian suddenly blurted out. “I never knew. I swear. I’d have never. I would never. I mean, you know. I’d want to.”

“He didn’t about you,” Roman translated. “He’d never walked out on his kid.”

Dom looked over the small, French, Asian girl who shared his husband’s eyes. There were more similarities than the obvious one; her nose, her cheekbones. There was no doubt it. Brian was a father.

And shit, that meant Dom was a stepfather.

“So what?” Letty asked, not unkindly. “Your mom tells you about Brian and just drops you off here?”

Marinette blushed and looked down again. It set off red flags in everyone’s head. “She doesn’t know…” She admitted. “I left her a note though!” She added.

Roman leaned against the wall. “You find out about Brian, decided what the hell, ditch Paris and run off to a California to find him, with just a note to your Ma.” He snorted. “That’s your kid, alright.”

“Shut up,” Brian hissed. He pinched his nose. “Call your mom.”

“No.”

“She needs to know your alright,” Brian insisted.

“She will,” Marinette promised. “After we talk.”

Brian crossed his eyes and looked sternly at… his daughter, “This isn’t a negotiation.”

Marinette crossed her arms, “Wanna bet?”

Blue eyes and Blue eyes glared at each other. Making the resemblance between the two even more clear as, much to the occupants of the room dismay, stubbornness was inherited.

Dom just sighed. This was going to be his life now. At least he’ll get a laugh out of watching Brian deal with a mini Brian. Stubborn, reckless, little shit that he was; he deserved a little krama.

An hour later, it was clear Marinette had won. She got the talk she wanted. And found out some things about her new Papa. He was married to the scary guy, had been around the world, had been a cop. Loved cars. The people in the house were all family.

“Call me Uncle Rome,” Roman introduced. “I’m the reason your dad lived long enough to have you.

“Mia,” A pretty kind woman with long dark hair said, “Dom’s sister. He’s great when you get to know him.”

“Letty,” A fierce woman said.

After that, there was Taj, Vince, Suki, Han, and quite a few others that made her head spin trying to remember them.

Then she called her parents. They were not happy. Then Brian got on the phone to speak with her mom. He left the room.

Within minutes there was yelling. A lot of yelling. When Brian came back, he looked angry and somewhat relieved. “You’re staying for the summer,” He told her. “We’re going to get to know each other. “You have to call home. Every. Day. Your mom will send some of your stuff.”

The next day, Marinette and Dom found themselves sitting across from each other at the breakfast table. A protectiveness had grown in Dom over the night. Because he realized if this was Brian’s daughter, then it was his daughter.

There was a living, breathing kid he was now responsible for too.

Dom sat across from her and briefly wondered Mia kept any of her old barbies. And if that would be insulting to offer them to the girl. “How old are you?” He asked her.

“Eight,” She answered shyly.

Not barbies then. Boys, then. Mia got into boys just about her age. Oh god, he can’t deal with boys right now. He’d go back to prison.

“How long have you and Papa been married?”

“Almost six years,” He answered.

“Why don’t you have kids?” She asked brightly. “Did you want kids?”

It was a trap. Dom knew it. Brian liked to do the same thing. “We want you.”

She smirked, “Nice answer.”

Brian came in with plates full of pancakes a few seconds later. Marinette was pleased t see hers had a smily face.

“I was thinking we could go to the beach today,” The blond said. “Get to know each other more.” He nodded to his husband. “As a family.”

And so they did.

Marinette spent the entire summer with her Papa and Pops (Dom) and her newfound family, and every summer after. Through them she got into mechanics and cars. Though she still developed a love for fashion. She met a fascinating man named Shaw, and his brother, who taught her how to fight. She met a lioness of a woman named Monica and her husband Carter Verone who just taught her how to be scary.

It was just after she turned thirteen, and she became Ladybug, did Marinette forget just how protective her family was.

It was Sunday. There was a family barbeque. Everyone was there. Marinette was in the kitchen helping Mia clean up when she got a text from Luka. (Adrien was so not her type. Thanks to Letty, Monica, Mia, Suki, she developed a rather fierce nature and decided she’d only date guys with a backbone.) She didn’t realize as she texted back than a dreamy expression appeared on her face, because… well, Luka.

“Who you texting?” Letty asked with an eyebrow raised.

Marinette blushed, “No one.” She hissed back.

“Does no one have a name?” Mia smiled.

Marinette looked down, “Luka.”

“Who the fuck Luka?” Vince yelled, having overheard the conversation. “Dom you know your kid’s got some boy textin her?”

There was a crash. A few crashes actually.

Dom stomped in, grabbed Marinette’s phone, “NO!” he said and walked off.

Marinette groaned. She hoped this wouldn’t be the surfer boy from down the street all over again. His family had to move.

It was a year, and one accidentally overseen transformation did her family find out she was a superhero named Ladybug and had been fighting a terrorist for almost two years. It didn’t take long to find online videos of all her rights. Of how many times she had nearly died.

Brian seethed in anger, unable to speak.

Hobbs and Monica just nodded at each other. Each texting their agency of what had been taking place in Paris. Apparently, the mayor had been hiding it to prevent tourism from declining.

Deckard Shaw was torn. On one hand, he was proud of his niece. She had handled herself well. On other hand that some of bitch Hawkmoth had to pay. No one fucked with his family. Mask or now, magical powers or not, Shaw going to find him.

And who the hell let a teenage girl be Superhero? With not nearly enough training. That asshole was gonna pay too.

Dom just sat his beer down, his eyes still trained on the image of Hawkmoth on the TV, the son of a bitch who had tried to kill his kid, who terrorized a bunch of school children, and all of Paris. and said, “Oh, it’s on.”

The Fast and Furious team was going to Paris.

#Marienette Dupain Cheng #the fast and the furious #brian o'conner #ml fic #ml salt #dominic toretto #bio dad au

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murdockslanternlight · 4 years

Text

Halloween Movie Night

Pairing: Peter Parker x MJ (MCU)

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Peter and MJ enjoy a scary movie night in her apartment to celebrate the beginning of Halloween season.

Content includes: Fluff, cookies, kissing, and a tongue burnt on hot chocolate but nothing else too steamy. There is one quick mention of the pandemic.

I’m a little late to the game and new to fanfic challenges, but I would love to submit this for @thefanficfaerie‘s daily mini-series for the Spooktacular Halloween OTP Writing Challenge. I ship Peter and MJ and think this is such a cute idea with awesome prompts! I may branch into other characters though! Hope you enjoy!

“It’s the first day of Halloween, Peter. We’re watching scary movies!” MJ exclaimed.

“The… the first day of Halloween?” Peter questioned as a grin spread across his face.

He stepped into MJ’s living room and removed his mask. Her parents were both working late, so they would have the apartment to themselves for the evening. Peter then closed the window to keep the crisp, autumn air outside.

“Horror and the occult deserve more than a single night. Besides, what else is there to do in a pandemic besides watch scary movies?” MJ said with a raised brow.

“I guess I’m just used to wearing a costume every day,” Peter laughed as he pulled her close for a kiss.

“Oh, that reminds me. I brought some provisions for THE first day of Halloween,” Peter said.

Peter removed the backpack from his shoulder. This was his third new backpack this month. Inside were Halloween themed pajamas and socks as well as hot chocolate packets and Pillsbury ready-to-bake ghost cookies.

“You do realize these are all just marketing ploys to take advantage of people during holidays. Social constructs that cause people to feel the need to buy all of these items just to fit in and meet Instagram’s demands for what is portrayed as necessary to celebrate a holiday,” MJ declared.

“I hear you but… that lady that owns the grocery store with the sweet old dog. You know, the one that lays behind the counter, but never stops wagging his tail. The one in lower Manhattan. She offered me a discount for stopping another robbery tonight,” Peter replied quickly.

MJ raised her brow again.

“I protested, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Peter said earnestly.

“I suppose we can be that couple for one evening,” MJ said pointedly. “But don’t even think about posting a picture with a caption like ‘My Boo!’ tonight.”

“You got it boss,” Peter said as he went to the bathroom to change into the Halloween pajamas.

He returned to find MJ in the corresponding set of skeleton pajamas as the oven’s preheat setting beeped. Peter placed the refrigerated cookies on a sheet pan and set out the mugs for the hot cocoa. MJ set up the movie.

“So, what’re we watching?” Peter asked.

“I picked Scream for tonight. I figured I would ease you into my horror movie collection starting with a 90’s classic, and we’ll get to the more obscure films later.”

“You don’t want to ease me in with like Monsters Inc.?” Peter smiled sheepishly.

“You fight crime daily, but you’re afraid of a little scary movie?” MJ teased.

Peter scooped MJ up in his arms, kissing her forehead. They snuggled onto the couch. MJ was still in Peter’s arms, laying on his chest.

“You know, you make a pretty cute skeleton,” Peter whispered.

Peter lightly outlined the picture of an arm bone down MJ’s shirt sleeve. He traced it the whole way to her fingertips. Then, he grasped her hand within his.

“Shut up, Parker,” MJ giggled.

She had started to trace the bones on Peter’s matching pajamas. Suddenly, MJ felt Peter’s hand graze her chin. He lightly pulled her face to look upward at him. Sitting up now, Peter bent to kiss MJ from above. He saw that in a movie once. Their lips fit together perfectly. He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. All the chaos, heartache, and struggles that came with being Spider-Man melted away as Peter breathed in MJ’s honey shampoo scent in her curly hair as strands of it tickled his face. They kissed the world away.

However, as Peter’s heart began to hammer in his chest, the timer from the oven parted their lips. MJ turned over, now properly oriented to look him in the eye and gave him a final peck. She then went to the kitchen to bring the cookies in. Then, she set them down on the coffee table in front of the couch with the hot chocolates. They each took one, but Peter put it in his mouth too quickly.

“Ooo… ooo! Too hot!” Peter mumbled over his burnt tongue and waived his hand.

He reached for his cup of hot chocolate.

“Peter wai—”

Peter’s eyes went wide as the steaming liquid passed his lips.

“It’s called hot chocolate for a reason, Parker” MJ teased.

She kissed him on the cheek and wiped the hot chocolate from the side of his mouth with her thumb.

“I guess the Spidey sense didn’t realize cookies and cocoa could be a threat too, huh?” Peter said, cheeks reddening.

“That’s alright. I’ll protect you from the sinister cookies,” MJ murmured as she put a now-cooled cookie in his mouth and took one for herself.

She was laying in his chest again with one hand on his sleeve. Peter took another bite of cookie. It was warm and sweet. These were the moments he truly lived for—the stolen kisses, the tender touches, and the pure passion he felt when he was with MJ. He snuggled close as they watched a panicked Drew Barrymore run from Ghostface. With every sharp intake of Peter’s breath as Barrymore’s death loomed closer, MJ squeezed his hand. She was his protector too.

Suddenly, MJ’s phone screen lit up. She picked it up to see the news alert.

“Peter, there’s a five-alarm fire in Hell’s Kitchen,” she said with dismay.

Peter webbed his backpack to his hands. He went back to the bathroom to change back into the Spider-Man suit. When he returned, he kept his eyes on the floor. Peter wanted to stay snuggled into the couch, holding MJ tight. MJ crossed the room to him and brushed his cheek.

“It’s ok, Peter. There’s thirty more days of Halloween,” she smiled.

He returned the smile and kissed her once more, beginning yet another premature exit out the apartment window. Peter looked at MJ one more time as he pulled his mask down.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” MJ said with a wink.

Peter’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled under his mask as he swung to the out of the window.

It was time to be Spider-Man again.

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big-city-dreamer · 4 years

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Fireworks

A/N: Hey! So I’m back with another fic that’s surprisingly not my usual ShieldShock MO. I recently binged Power Rangers RPM and now I’ve joined the fandom, 11 years too late it seems cause the fandom is pretty much dormant/ nonexistent especially here on Tumblr 🤦🏾‍♀️But for anyone who hasn’t seen it, RPM was meant to be the last season of Power Rangers EVER so Disney took ALL the risks and it turned out to be IMO not only the best installment in the 20+ years of the show but some pretty good TV in general! It’s the most adult season they’ve made and with the A1 script and even better acting (Rose McIver, Adelaide Kane, Eka Darville!) it’s hands down SO enjoyable! Anyway, my birthday was on Saturday (#VirgoSZN 🥳) and this self indulgent fic of my new favourite OTP (Dillon x Summer Lansdown) is my gift to myself. It may be hard to follow if you don’t know the show or characters but I hope it’s still an enjoyable read.💜 Gifs by @vakariaan

Title: Fireworks

Pairing: Dillon x Summer Landsdown

Summary: Dillon and Summer finally stop dancing around each other. (Set between the final Venjix battle and the last scenes of Episode 32)

Rating: G

Warnings: Super fluffy and cheesy lol! Lots of direct references to the show.

“That’s three in a row, boys!” Summer Landsdown grinned as she knocked the last striped ball into the top right pocket of the pool table from what seemed like an impossible angle. She blew on the end of her pool stick like it was a smoking gun.

Her teammates Flynn McAllistair and Ziggy Grover were still staring at the cleared table, unable to pick up their jaws off the floor. The blue and green rangers were struggling to understand how they’d suffered yet another defeat at the hands of the yellow bear ranger.

“But that’s not-”

“How did you even-”

Summer handed the pool stick to Ziggy with a smile and took her empty red solo cup from Flynn. She called cheekily over her shoulder as she headed into the kitchen. “Let me know when you’ve had some practice.”

At the punch bowl on the breakfast bar, Summer refilled her cup and grabbed a seat on one of the high stools around it. She took a sip and surveyed the garage.

A week had passed since the Rangers had defeated Venjix. They’d finally cleaned up the destruction in the lab and rebuilt the city’s Command Center, so a night of celebrations and relaxation was in order before they headed off in different directions for the rest of the year. They’d gone all out for the party in true RPM style: lights, garlands, drinks and snacks with music blasting from Flynn’s blue Hummer.

Scott Truman sat with Dr K on the leather couch near the pool table, as Ziggy and Flynn set up a new game of pool. Summer watched with amusement as the red ranger tried to explain the game's objectives, with flagging patience, in response to the good doctor’s endless questions. From a nearby armchair, Tenaya listened intently to the two, raising questions of her own ever so often. Recently freed from Venjix’s control, she was still a little shy and understandably overwhelmed. She kept her distance a bit but was still willing to be involved in the conversation.

The sound of a whirring drill from the left of the garage broke Summer’s focus. She glanced over to see Gem and Gemma working on some kind of experiment as usual if the tangle of wires, bolts and explosives on the aluminium workstation was anything to go by.

Gemma waved excitedly, screwdriver in hand when she caught Summer’s gaze. She shared a knowing smile with the blonde ranger and pointed in the direction of the garage door with an exaggerated wink. Summer blushed and ducked her head in thanks, leaving her cup on the table as she made her way outside.

She found him leaning on the front of the Fury, looking up at the dome’s artificial night’s sky. He was the ultimate picture of the lone wolf black ranger; brows creased in deep thought, arms folded across his broad chest.

Summer was well aware that he knew she was coming closer - enhanced hybrid hearing and all - but she tapped on the hood of the black muscle car anyway to alert him of her presence. They’d been spending a lot more time together since the Rangers’ victory but he still liked to take some time away on his own. She didn’t want to disturb him if he wanted to be alone.

“I thought your brooding days would be over now that you’ve found your sister,” she teased as she stopped in front of the car.

Dillon chuckled as he looked over at her through his dark, shaggy bangs. “This is actually my happy face.”

He extended his arm in a silent invitation for her and she carefully settled next to him on the bonnet of the black muscle car.

“Sometimes,” Dillon began, still focused on the sky, “I look at the moon and the stars here and wonder what the real things are like outside of the dome. It was hard to see it during my time in the Waste Lands but now with Venjix gone, there aren’t any toxic gases to block the view.”

Summer hummed and waited for him to continue.

“The war is over and everyone’s going back to their old lives, but Tenaya and I don’t remember what life was like for us before.” He sighed and looked over at her, “But we do want to find out what the world out there is like without Venjix. We’ll get to know each other, snuff out any remaining factions and try to help hybrids like us who are looking to start over. I mean I wouldn’t call it soul searching, but if we found ourselves out there that would be great too.”

“Oh..” Summer whispered a little deflated, “that... sounds like a good plan.”

Dillon watched as the emotions flashed across Summer’s face till she gave him a half-smile. She could hardly hide her surprise though when he took her hand in his and laced their fingers together.

“But,” Dillon started with his signature smirk, coming around to stand between her legs at the front of the car, “if you’re not in a hurry to go back to life as a princess, I was hoping you’d consider coming too.”

With his free hand, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his dark eyes never leaving her bright hazel ones. “With us...With me…Ouch! Hey!”

“That wasn’t funny!” Summer grumbled, smacking him repeatedly on his chest for her momentary distress.

Dillon laughed as he pulled her closer to him, taking her other hand as well to make sure he didn’t get hit again. He leaned his forehead against hers. “So, what do you say?”

Summer couldn’t help the relieved laugh that bubbled up but she wasn’t gonna make it that easy for him. She suppressed a smile as she brushed her nose lightly against his, watching as his long lashes fluttered. “Exploring the world with a rebellious hybrid and his sweet sister? Why would I want to do that?” She challenged playfully.

Dillon knew she was baiting him, teasing him as usual but he was more than willing to bite. He closed the gap between them, sealing their lips with a tentative kiss. When he was certain she wasn’t going to slap him again, he increased the urgency, revelling in her sighs and the feel of her soft lips against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

They’d both been anticipating this moment, having been denied twice recently, so the thought of stopping even for a second seemed ridiculously absurd. Between kisses, the black wolf ranger tried his best to convince Summer.

“Because,” he mumbled against her lips, “even when I have the best intentions... I can’t promise I won’t do anything crazy... And I’m definitely going to get into trouble… But there’s no one else...out there... I’d trust to save me... but you.”

Arms still wrapped around him, Summer hummed as she tried to catch her breath. Dillon took smug satisfaction in the dreamy look on her flushed face when he pulled back.

“I’m in,” Summer smiled and it was Dillon’s turn to breathe a sigh of relief- not that he’d admit it, “but I have one condition,” she added mischievously. “I get to drive the Fury if we ever encounter a tornado — Dillon!”

Summer squealed as he picked her up and spun her around for her cheeky comment. Laughing with her, he set her back down on the car and leaned in for another kiss…

“Get a room!”

“Whipped!”

Scott and Flynn both coughed dramatically as they made their way out of the garage to settle themselves on a lowered wall to their left. Dillon rolled his eyes at their antics while Summer buried her face against his chest in embarrassment.

Tenaya filed out after the rangers, smirking at the couple. “Finally.”

“Really?” Dillon scoffed at his sister, “You too?”

Tenaya shrugged as she crossed in front of them to sit on the ledge with the boys.

“Don’t listen to them,” Ziggy began as he perched himself too close to the couple on the hood of the Fury, oblivious of Dillon’s exasperation. Summer placated his pending outburst with a hand to his chest as Ziggy droned on.

“We’re all happy for you crazy lovebirds. Took you long enough with all those longing looks and flirty lines. Though I’m not really sure how such a grouchy cyborg scored a sunny babe like Summer. N-not that I’ve been looking or anything! You should at least think about coming up for air before you miss the show—Ahh!”

Ziggy let out a shout as Dr K dragged him off the car by his ear and pulled him along to the ledge opposite where the others were sitting. “Ranger Operator Series Green,” she scolded, “Ranger Operators Series Black and Yellow do not require your analysis of their blossoming relationship nor do I believe that they appreciate your close proximity while they engage in a lip lock.”

The gang howled with laughter at her statement, much to the confusion of the young doctor.

“Thanks, doc… I think,” Dillon shook his head, turning in Summer’s arms so that he was facing outward again.

Summer ignored the rising blush on her cheeks and directed her attention at Ziggy. “What show?”

“The light show-”

“-to celebrate our victory!”

Gem and Gemma gushed excitedly as they rushed out to join the others, wearing large headphones and each carrying a detonator.

“A big win-”

“-Requires a big explosion!” The duo cheered, exchanging high-fives.

Dillon wasn’t so convinced as he arched an eyebrow at the Boom Twins. “Right. Because that’s exactly what the traumatized citizens on Corinth need— unexpected explosions.”

“I understand your concern, Ranger Operator Series Black,” Dr K admitted, “and we did take that into consideration when we cleared it with Colonel Truman. By tapping into the new configuration at the Command Centre, we were able to integrate reverberation retention technology into the dome’s shield so when the explosions go off in the biofield, we can redirect the noise elsewhere. It’s similar to the programme used to rid of the stale air in the dome.”

“So we designed it so that everyone can see it,” Gemma began.

“But only we get to hear it go BOOM!” Gem finished, pointing to his headphones.

The silver and gold rangers pushed their buttons without further delay and the team joined with the rest of Corinth as they watched the silent fireworks light up the night’s sky.

Summer rested her chin on Dillon’s shoulder and whispered to him. “I’m going to miss this.”

Dillon looked around at the eccentric bunch. They got on his nerves but they weren’t half bad most of the time. He’d started off as a reluctant teammate - joining only due to Summer’s persuasion - but these people had become trustworthy friends who helped him to fight off the Venjix virus inside of him and find the only family he seemed to have left.

Without them, he wouldn’t have plans to see the new world with the one who made him rethink his Lone Ranger act. He’d tried to keep them all at a distance, but she’d melted his icy heart somehow and cared for him through all of it, even when he seemed to be more machine than man.

Dillon turned to kiss Summer on the cheek. “Me too.”

#power rangers rpm #power rangers #dillon x summer #dillon #rose mciver #scott truman #eka darville #tenaya7 #adelaine kane #flynn mcallistair #ari boyland #ziggy grover #milo cawthorne #dr k #olivia tenet #gem and gemma #yellow ranger #black ranger #summer landsdown

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ilovemesomekillianjones · 4 years

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Good Things Come to Those Who Talk

It’s been a long time since I’ve written, but the muse visited this week, so here is a fluffy and smutty Captain Swan one shot. I’m sure this trope has been written one millions ways, here is one million and one. Hope you like it. Although I am not around as much as I used to be, CS still remains my OTP and always will.

ao3 ffnet rated M 8.9K

Summary: Emma Swan is so over her brother, he warns every cop he knows to stay away from her. She's pined for so long though, she wants Killian Jones, it's just double bad luck that he's a cop and he happens to be David's partner. She decides her brother's wrath is worth the risk to find out if there's something more for her and Killian. Now all she needs is a new dress and a plan.

“Emma Swan, you little slut! What has gotten into you?” Ruby screeched as Emma pulled the door to her home open.

“Is it too much?” Emma asked with just a touch of hysteria coloring her voice. She hurried back to her bedroom to give herself the once over… again. Running her hands down the newly purchased, skin tight, black mini dress, she followed each and every curve that was on full display.

“Girl, I would do you if I didn’t already have a girlfriend.”

“Not helping, Ruby!”

“Emma, you look fucking hot, there is not a man on earth that could turn you down in that.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” she mumbled under her breath. Tonight was the night. She’d danced around the longing and heat between her and Killian Jones for long enough. She’d been pining for this man for longer than she could remember, half the time they spent together felt like they were a couple anyway. She already knew her stupid brother, David, had warned Killian Jones to stay away from her, but there was nothing stopping her from putting the moves on Killian Jones. She just hoped Ruby was right, that no man would be able to resist her, including the one who’d been threatened with death if he so much as laid one finger on her. Emma was undeniably hoping for far more than one finger. A shiver jolted through her and she was brought back to the present.

“Someone’s got it baaaad,” Ruby teased. “You gonna make your move tonight?”

“That’s the plan,” Emma said as she grabbed her knee length black leather jacket and tied it closed. She pulled her flowing, golden tresses from the jacket and tossed them over her shoulders.

“Well then let’s get this party started!” With that, Ruby grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her back to the front of the house and out the door.

The Rabbit Hole was their favorite local pub, and the only place to celebrate the hot shot detectives who’d made the biggest bust this city had ever seen. Of course it was the hot shot team of Detectives Nolan and Jones to bring down the infamous Robert “The Deal Maker” Gold and his outfit of miscreants. Earlier this morning, both men had received the Medal of Valor, for extraordinary acts of bravery and heroism, performed in the line of duty at extreme life-threatening, personal risk, their Captain had said.

Emma remembered that day three weeks ago, when she’d received the call from her sister-in-law. The baby had been wailing in the background as Mary Margaret had tried to tell Emma, through choked sobs that David was in the hospital. No doubt the little guy had been so upset because his mama was having a justified meltdown.

When Emma had arrived, Killian was in the waiting room, a little bloodied, bruised, and banged up, but he’d insisted on waiting for her before letting the doctors examine him. He’d wanted to let her know that David was in surgery, but he’d be okay, and Mary Margaret had just left to drop her two year old off at Belle’s so he didn’t have to wait in the ER. It wasn’t until Killian’s body had slumped against hers that Emma realized he wasn’t doing as well as he’d pretended. She’d found out later, Killian had been hit by Gold’s car as the fiend had tried to make a run for it.

Emma doesn’t like to think about the panic she’d felt as he was hauled behind the swinging doors of the ER. She doesn’t like to remember the tears that had fallen when the thought that she’d never gotten to tell him how she felt for him, crossed her mind. She especially doesn’t like to think about how he’d been out of the hospital for three weeks now, and she’d still been too chicken shit to even ask him out on a date, let alone tell him that she’s crazy about him.

Once Killian’s internal bleeding had stopped and he was cleared to go home, she’d helped him convalesce through a dislocated shoulder and severely bruised ribs. He’d gotten remarkably lucky considering he was hit by a car. Hours of flirting and bantering, movies on his couch, meals together, and she hadn’t scraped together the courage to tell him how she felt. She’d picked him up and attended the medal pinning with him today, and still she couldn’t find any words to tell him how she felt. When he’d come down off the stage, walked toward her and scooped her up into a bear hug, all she’d come up with was how proud she was of him. Even though it was true, there was so much more she wanted to say. And she’d known long before any of this had happened, she’d just never considered moving past her fear of rejection or risking their friendship for a chance at something more until she’d felt like she might lose him.

That thought made her feel pretty shitty. But that’s when she’d decided a few things. Emma Swan was shit with words. Actions speak louder than words. Tonight was the night. And she needed a new dress.

Taking a deep breath as the car pulled into the parking lot, to center her thoughts, fortify her determination, and get her collective shit together, Emma stepped out of Ruby’s car with something akin to hope.

Upon entering the noisy bar, she searched for the woman who’d be lending her an assist tonight. Regina and her husband Robin, a retired police officer, now owned this bar. They were close personal friends with Emma’s brother’s family, as David’s former partner, and by extension, with the whole group. Regina would be the one taking care of their party tonight. Emma needed to square some drinking details away with the woman and then she’d be mission ready. After talking to Regina, she glanced around the crowded bar, searching for the man of the hour. Whatever confidence or hope had been building, promptly deflated as she located Killian, only to find him sitting at the bar with some handsy redhead whispering in his ear.

“Emma!” She heard Mary Margaret’s voice call out from across the bar, but she couldn’t turn, she was transfixed, watching as the woman ran a finger along Killian’s jawline. It gave her just an ounce of pleasure when he removed her hand from his vicinity and placed it on the bar. The mystery woman was undeterred though as she placed her hand on his chest next.

Mary Margaret called her name again, louder this time, and Emma noticed it caught Killian’s attention as he began to scan the bar. When his eyes met hers, they immediately lit up and he mouthed the word help, with desperation in his every feature. Emma’s confidence restored, she sashayed toward him with renewed determination.

Goddamn, she thought as she appreciated how Killian’s royal blue button down shirt and black slacks were tailored to his body. She bit down on her lip when she noted that he definitely had his customary one too many buttons undone and was displaying that magically delicious thatch of chest hair she’d imagined running her hands through just a couple times. Sauntering right in between the two, she settled in the spot of his perpetually manspread legs and placed her palms on his thighs, leaving her back to the other woman.

“Hey Sexy, where’ve you been all my life?” she asked in the sexiest tone she could muster while also trying not to crack up as she laid it on thick for the woman trying to steal her man. What?

“Right here, waiting for you, love,” Killian answered, wrapping an arm around her waist. The man didn’t miss a beat.

Emma couldn’t be bothered to feel bad as she rubbed her palms over his muscular thighs which currently rested on her hips. She had a mission tonight, and this floozy behind her had been throwing herself at Killian.

“I’m so lucky someone didn’t come and scoop you up before I got here.”

Emma almost melted when he came right back with, “No one else is you.”

She knew this man, had known him for several years. She knew when he was playing a long con, when he was bullshitting, when he was joking, when he was serious, and when he was sincere. Her heartbeat stuttered as his earnest expression dared her to believe him. Just at that moment, the drinks Killian had ordered arrived. “Come on,” she said, grabbing the three beer bottles in one hand and taking his hand in her other.

“Let me order a couple more, now that the rest of you are here.”

Emma leaned in to whisper in his ear, “And leave you at the mercy of Hands, I don’t think so.” If she wasn’t mistaken, Killian actually shivered, and she wondered how bad it had gotten before she’d arrived. When she stepped back though, she noticed a bright flush along Killian’s cheeks, and she wondered if she wasn’t causing that shiver and blush. “I’ll order when the server comes around.”

Emma was positively rippling with anticipation of what Killian would think of her dress as they walked over to the private room Mary Margaret had reserved for tonight. The bar had several private rooms off each corner of the bar, they were a little less noisy, and perfect for celebratory drinks. This one had a large round booth and table in it, so Emma slid in next to her brother, pulling Killian in behind her. Strategically speaking, she was hoping David couldn’t stare daggers at Killian from this angle, like he always did when Emma and Killian were hanging out and getting too close for his comfort. She didn’t need her stupid brother ruining her plans.

“Here love, you can have this beer,” Killian offered as they sat down.

“That’s okay, I can wait for the server.” Emma was not in the mood to get drunk, at least not drunk for real. “Are Will and Belle still coming tonight?” Emma asked as she untied her jacket and leaned forward to take it off while still seated in the confines of the booth.

Killian audibly choked on the swig of beer he’d been taking when he caught a glimpse of all the skin Emma was now showing. One false move and there could be a nip slip, really.

“Hey, Jones, you okay there buddy? Emma, quick, give him mouth to mouth, he’s choking,” she harassed.

Emma shot her a look before slapping Killian on the back a couple times. “My ribs,” he croaked once he’d finished hacking and coughing.

Emma preened as she noticed he still hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “You gonna be okay?” she asked, turning fully toward Killian as she soothingly rubbed her hand along his rib cage.

“Love your new dress, Ems,” Ruby exclaimed, adding fuel to multiple fires.

“New dress? Are you sure you got the whole thing?” David fumed. “Looks more like a tank top to me. And yes, to answer your question from before, Will and Belle are coming, their Lyft was running late.”

Emma looked over her shoulder to scowl at her brother, and he scowled right back. “I happen to like this dress, David,” she said, saying his name as pettily as any sister could, “what about you Killian. Do you like my new dress?”

Killian’s hand immediately shot up to scratch behind his ear, but before he could even speak a word, David leaned forward, peered around Emma and stared those oh so familiar daggers at Killian.

“Oh stop it, David,” Mary Margaret chided her husband.

“Oi mates, hope you didn’t start the party without me,” Will shouted as he and Belle entered the room. He and Belle scooted into the booth next to Ruby and Mulan, and Emma was thankful they’d arrived before David could start ranting about not wanting his sister to date a cop.

Emma, Mary Margaret, Belle, and Ruby had all been promised a play by play of the Gold bust now that the case was finalized, Gold had been sentenced, and everyone was healed. Will and Mulan hadn’t been injured, but they’d been part of the task force, and instrumental in the take down. Emma tried not to concentrate too hard on the fact that she was the only female here who wasn’t technically a significant other. Besides, maybe that would change after tonight.

A round of shots was ordered to start the evening and Regina brought them to the table, handing a shot of rum to each guest. They toasted to the takedown of the felon who had run rampant like a virus, for far too long. The story was intense to be sure, and a second round of shots was ordered to toast the health and safety of David, Killian, Mulan, and Will.

When the live band started, they headed for the dance floor and Emma was thankful to have a bit of privacy, albeit in the middle of a crowded dance floor, with Killian. “You cut quite the figure in that dress,” he whispered into her ear.

The band was covering a latin number and Emma melted as Killian pulled her in close. His left hand was on the small of her back and the other held her free hand. Her free hand rested on his chest, right at the juncture of his too unbuttoned shirt.

“I don’t know exactly how to do this… dance,” Emma mumbled as Killian began to move his feet. They were connected at their hips as they swayed with the beat.

“It’s called a mambo; there’s only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

She’d danced with him before and it never ceased to amaze her how well the man could move his body. If he was this fluid and skilled while dancing, what could he do in bed?

“I can see your mind working, Swan. What are you thinking about?”

Emma tried to stop the blush, but she’d definitely been caught ogling him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Perhaps I would,” he admitted while sweeping a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You are blushing,” he added as he trailed the finger down her cheek.

“I was just thinking, if you’re this good on the-” Emma’s breath was knocked from her as David and Mary Margaret careened into them.

“Hey guys,” David shouted over the music, “time for shots.”

Emma just barely stopped herself from yelling at her brother to stop being a cockblock. Instead, she settled for stomping on his foot as she led Killian off the dancefloor. They all lined up at the bar and Regina doled out more shots.

“I’m ready to go home,” Emma slurred into Killian’s shoulder several hours later. “Take me home?”

“Aye, love.”

“I thought Ruby was your ride,” David interrupted.

“No can do, Davey,” Ruby mumbled. “Me and my baby are staying at the hotel across the street so we don’t have to drive and we don’t have to come back for the car tomorrow.

“We will take you home,” David proclaimed, as if someone had died and made him king.

“That’s ridiculous, we’re already taking Belle and Will home,” Mary Margaret told her husband. “Killian hasn’t been drinking for the last two hours, he can take Emma home.”

“Bu-” David started.

“I know we have five seats, but we don’t need to squish five adults into them, when Killian can give Emma a ride.”

Emma snickered at the way Mary Margaret effortlessly handled David.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” David muttered.

After the group said their goodbyes, Emma let Killian lead her to his truck. She pretended to need much more help getting in than she really did. Under the guise of being drunk, Emma found she was much braver. If he turned her down, she could always pretend she was so drunk she didn’t remember, and if he was a gentleman, which he was, he’d never mention it.

Reaching across the space between them, Emma brushed the hair away from his forehead. “I was so worried about you when you were in the hospital,” she whispered, making sure to slur a word here and there.

“I’m sorry I worried you, lass, but you needn’t worry about me.”

“I do worry about you, Killian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, in your inebriated state, I’m sure it’s hard to imagine, but I am sure you’d manage.”

“What a horrible thing to say! I would not be okay if I lost you, I would never be okay.”

Killian clasped his hand over hers, which had been idly stroking his cheek. “Shhh, love, there’s no need to discuss this topic anyway. If there is one thing I am good at, it’s surviving.”

Killian pulled into her driveway and hastily exited to help her down from the truck. She definitely put more weight on him than was strictly necessary and sloppily handed him the keys to unlock her door.

“Someone is going to be feeling like shite in the morning,” Killian laughed.

Emma played it up, and allowed Killian to get Tylenol and water for her as she stripped out of her dress and hopped into her bed.

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” he checked as he set her hangover supplies on her nightstand.

Emma caught his hand as he went to put it in his pocket. “Stay with me?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Please,” Emma asked sweetly, looking up at him with all the hope she felt inside written clearly on her face.

Killian exhaled a long sigh as only a man who knows he’s lost can. Circling around the bed, he started to climb in behind her.

“You’re not going to sleep in jeans, are you?”

“I don’t exactly have sleepwear at my disposal, Swan. And you’re sleeping in your dress.”

Emma laughed at that, that’s what he thinks. “Take off your jeans, boxer briefs are just like shorts.” She grinned triumphantly as she heard the metal of his belt and the rustling of pants being dropped.

Once he was settled in her bed, she turned over and snuggled against him. The groan he emitted when she did so shot a bolt of heat straight to her core. She knew he was just as affected as she was, and that was hot.

“Emma, please, you’re making it very hard fo-”

“That’s kinda the point,” she giggled, pressing her body against his and snaking her free hand into the opening of his shirt to rake it through his chest hair.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Poor choice of words,” he corrected as he scooted away from her advances. “We can’t do this.”

Emma immediately felt the sting of his words in her chest, like someone was gripping her heart, or worse, like someone had taken it and she was hollow. A flurry of emotions ran through her as she tried to assure herself she still had her failsafe of “being drunk”. She searched for words. “Why? Because of my stupid brother?” she demanded, her voice a little more watery than angry.

“This has nothing to do with your brother, Swan.”

“Then… why?” Emma sat up in bed and pulled the blankets tightly around her body, as if they’d protect her from whatever hurtful reason he had for not wanting her.

“Because you’re drunk and-”

“Well-” Emma interrupted.

“No, wait, let me finish. Before I lose my nerve.”

Emma frowned at him, but complied by sitting quietly.

“You’ve been drinking all night love, and I would never forgive myself if I took advantage of you in this state and then you regretted it in the morning, if you regretted me. I… I’m crazy about you Emma, I have been for a long time. I don’t want a drunken one night stand with you, hell, I don’t want any kind of one night stand with you. I want… more.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” she asked softly.

“Short answer? I’m a coward.”

“What if I want to know the extended version?” she asked as she patted the seat next to her and offered him part of the blankets so he could join her.

Killian got back into the bed and sat up against the headboard as Emma was. “I guess I’ve hid behind your brother’s warning to stay away from you. I mean, he’s not wrong, it can be a hard life being with a cop. Look what happened with Gold. I also worried about jeopardizing our friendship, especially if you didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Why now?”

Killian chuckled before answering her. “You being drunk gives me the courage to say how I feel, because you might not even remember this in the morning.”

Emma dropped all pretense of being inebriated and leaned forward so she was looking straight into the depths of the eyes she dreamed about almost nightly. “Let’s get something straight, okay? I could never regret you, Killian Jones.” Placing a hand softly on his cheek, she smiled at the awestruck look on his face. “And also, I haven’t had a drink all night. I paid Regina to fill my shots with apple juice. I just needed the cover of liquid courage to try and seduce you because I am shit with words. And I figured if you didn’t feel the same, I could always pretend that I didn’t remember the next day.”

Killian’s warm laughter startled her a bit, but then she was laughing with him. “I usually have a flair with words, Swan, you just do something to me that brings me to my basest form. I’m a goner for you, and I wish I’d have told you sooner.”

“Well, get used to me not being great with words. I’m sort of caveman-like. I mean, I’m not gonna point and grunt, but I definitely use action over words. But if I can paraphrase a great wordsmith, ‘I’m crazy about you, Killian, I have been for a long time’.”

The smile that lit up Killian’s face, dimples and all, was worth the hell she was going to go through with David.

“In the spirit of full disclosure, I never got a chance to answer you at the bar. I love your new dress, may I see it again,” he asked, gently tugging at the blankets she’d wrapped around herself for protection a few moments ago.

“Hmmm, sorry, not right now...” Killian immediately dropped his hand from the blanket and began to tell her it’s okay, when she peeled away the blanket, and continued, “because I’m not wearing it anymore.”

“Fuck me,” he murmured before biting down on his lip hungrily.

“Still the plan.”

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

“Stand up, love, let me see you.”

Emma complied, standing up and bearing herself to him. She was clad in nothing more than lacy, black panties and a matching bra. Watching as he perused every inch of her body, from the swell of her breasts, to her lean torso and soft belly, then down to the apex of her thighs, she could see his length swelling under his boxer briefs, and every part of her wanted him. Crooking her finger, she beckoned him to her, and it was his turn to comply.

Once Killian stood before her, Emma unbuttoned the remainder of his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, to the floor. Then she did something that shocked her a little bit, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulled him close and just held him; he immediately reciprocated, both arms encircling her and bringing her close. The feelings they’d just spoken floated around them and flowed between them.

Threading her fingers into his hair, she guided his mouth to hers and kissed him, softly and exploratorily at first. But as lips gave way to caressing tongues, and roaming hands, heat built and Emma found herself panting and breathless.

Killian unclasped her bra and pulled it away and she was never more grateful for that barrier to be gone, as his chest hair delicately tightened her nipples and sent sparks shooting to her core. She wanted more and made it known by grabbing his ass with both hands and hauling him firmly to her. Killian glided his hands down her back and over her firm ass while sucking a nipple into his mouth. She moaned his name at the sensation of his wet mouth laving at her breasts, and his fingers and palms caressing the smooth expanse of her ass. Emma wanted that last barrier gone, she reached between them to remove first her panties and then finally his boxer briefs.

She was not disappointed when she finally got a look at what her Detective was packing. Emma licked her lips as his cock stood at full attention, straining with the need to be touched.

“See something you like, darling?”

There was that hint of cockiness that she loved so much. “Yeah,” she breathed as she dropped to her knees. Wrapping her hand around the base of his cock, Emma stroked up and down a few times, relishing in the hiss that left Killian’s mouth. When his head dropped back, she pounced, taking him deep and swallowing once, before pulling back and then setting a slow rhythmic pace.

Killian lifted her from her knees and attacked her mouth with kisses, between trying to speak, “You don’t have to do that.”

Emma pulled her head back to stare at this man in front of her. What guy turns down head? “I know I don’t have to, I was enjoying myself,” she said, then she pushed into his frame, guiding him backwards until he could sit at the edge of the bed. She dropped to her knees again, and smirked before descending on him once more, but before she could even set a rhythm, he was halting her ministrations again.

“Okay, that’s twice. What’s up, Jones? Do you not enjoy getting head? Do I suck at it, and not in the good way?” Emma sat back on her calves, folding her arms around herself.

“On the contrary, you are magnificent at sucking my cock, Emma.”

She grinned mischievously at the compliment, a swarm of relief flooding her mind. “Then what gives?”

“I haven’t...” Killian trailed off, and an actual blush colored his cheeks as he tried to find the words he was looking for.

Emma put her hands on his knees and gently squeezed. “What is it? You can tell me.”

“I haven’t been with anyone in a while, I’ve kind of been saving myself for this brilliant lass I know. Plus, I’ve been hard since you took your jacket off at the bar and I don’t wish to finish before you,” he admitted. He rubbed nervously behind his ear as he waited for her reaction.

Emma was a little speechless. At no point in her life had she ever been with a man who was so dedicated to her gratification, he would deny his own. She’d definitely never been halted in the middle of a blow job so that her needs could be met. She stood up, taking Killian with her and then turned them around so that she could lie down on the bed. Holding her hand out to him, she pulled him down next to her and then scooted so that they were laying face to face. “Make me come, Killian.”

Needing no further guidance, Killian captured her lips in a fiery kiss while situating her on her back. Their tongues slid together effortlessly until he broke the kiss to blaze a trail down her body. She would definitely have marks, but he was careful to leave them where only they would see. As he paid special attention to her breasts again, delighting way too much in the noises she made, Emma finally caved, begging for more.

Scooting down between her legs, Killian took stock of the pretty picture splayed out for him. “Absolutely gorgeous,” he murmured. Ever so gently, he ran the tip of his finger along her glistening folds, parting them as his finger ran further down, exposing her clit to the cool air.

“Please Killian, touch me.”

“As you wish.”

Emma keened in half relief and half need as his tongue finally made contact with her clit. She thrust her hips, needing nothing short of penetration, and again, she was obviously hoping for more than just one finger. She wasn’t disappointed when Killian filled her with two digits as he worked her clit with his tongue.

Emma fisted a handful of Killian’s dark hair as he brought her a pleasure like none she’d experienced before. It was hot as hell to have him watching her with those devilish blue eyes gazing up from between her thighs as she fucked his fingers.

Emma had never been much of a talker in bed, but she found it easy with Killian to ask for more, to ask for it harder, and because of that, he had her falling over the edge of oblivion quickly.

“Get up here, now,” she panted, once her mind came back from the haze of post orgasmic delight.

“Gods, you taste divine,” he praised as he moved over her body, settling between her legs so they were face to face.

“You are really good at that, better than I could ever have imagined.”

“Oh, Emma,” he began as he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down gently before letting it go, “do elaborate on ‘imagined’,” he smirked before grinding his hips down so his thick length slid through her folds and over her clit.

A breathy moan rushed past her lips as he teased her. “Yeah? You want to hear all about how I get myself off while thinking of you?”

“Aye, lass, tell me.”

“Mmmmm, sometimes it’s quick and dirty, fucking my fingers, wishing they were yours. Other times I imagine you bend me over your desk at the precinct and take me roughly. But the best is edging while wondering if you’re lying in bed thinking about me, stroking your hard cock. I always finally make myself come, pleading your name as I picture you making yourself come all over your chest, calling out my name.”

“Christ, Emma, I’m going to come all over your chest if you tell me any more.”

In a flash of motion, Emma flipped them so she was on top, staring down at Killian. “We can’t have that.” Leaning down, she kissed him roughly, demanding his tongue, while situating his cock so she could sink down on it. “Oh… fuck you feel so good,” she gasped as his full length hit a depth she’d never felt without toys. Her hands found purchase on his chest as she adjusted to his size.

She let Killian set the pace after he grasped both her hips and guided her along. He was mesmerized by the way his cock slid in and out of her wet heat. “You feel so good wrapped around me,” he praised.

Killian pulled her down for a kiss again, and flipped them so he was on top. Emma whined as he withdrew from her completely and sat back on his haunches. “I’ve just realized I don’t have a condom,” he said defeatedly.

“That’s okay, I’m on the pill and I’m clean. You clean?”

“Aye, lass. On my honor.”

“Then put every inch of that cock back inside me,” she demanded as she pulled him back into the cradle of her thighs.

Emma laughed lightly as Killian groaned loudly while pushing back into her. “Just so you know, love, this feels so much better than any time I’ve ever taken myself in hand while thinking of you. And I always come with your name on my lips.”

Her answering smile turned into a low moan as Killian pulled out and then thrust back home. He changed the tempo, long deep passes, quick pounding thrusts, grinding his hips into her sometimes, and pumping shallowly others. She made sure to let him know what felt good and what felt better, and especially what was, “Oh fuck, yes, right there!”

Despite never having been together before, the combination of Emma knowing what she liked, being comfortable enough to ask for it, and Killian listening to her and taking care of her, had them riding the same wave, feeling, exploring, loving.

In the end, Killian had both her legs pulled up high around his waist, arms under her shoulders, and his face buried in the crook of her neck as he methodically drove into her, determined to make her come again.

Emma had her legs wrapped tightly around his torso, her arms around his neck, and her head thrown back into the pillow. They were a hot sweaty mess, and she was sure she’d never been wound this tight, she’d never been this turned on,maybe there was something to sex with feelings. His hot breath against her neck caused a tightness in her nipples and a tingling in her clit. Killian’s thrusts were punishing, hitting her deep, and she was so close and she knew he was close and she really wanted to come again.

“Touch yourself, Emma, I want to feel you come all over my cock.”

An errant bit of relief flooded her as she realized Killian was not intimidated in asking for what he wanted either and he wasn’t too macho to ask her to help get them there. Now was not the time for reflection though, and so she pushed those delightful thoughts to an area for later. Reaching down between them, Emma gathered the arousal that coated her thighs and started rubbing her fingers over her clit. “Almost, Killian, almo- Oh, Ooooh,” Emma cried.

It was almost ridiculous how in sync they were, each gracing the edge of ecstasy before plummeting off one after the other, calling the other’s name like a benediction. She’d been right, his moves on the dance floor had definitely foreshadowed his performance in bed. And just like the attentive gentleman he was day-to-day, he was the same in bed, making sure to guide her through every aftershock, and hold her as she came down from on high.

“Bloody Hell, why did we wait so long to do this?” Killian panted against her neck, before rolling off of her. “Come here,” he said, pulling Emma against his side.

Instead of nestling into him, Emma stood up and stretched deliciously. “So, I guess, I’ll umm... see you around?” A mixture of shock, disappointment, and embarrassment crossed his face before he quickly jumped out of bed. The look was priceless, she really did feel heartless, but she couldn’t resist teasing him a little.

“Right, love,” he mumbled as he turned from her and grabbed his slacks off the floor.

Emma tiptoed behind him and circled her arms around his waist, his whole body was taught. “I’m fucking with you, Jones,” she said gently, pressing her cheek to his back. “Join me for a shower?” As his body relaxed, she placed a few kisses between his shoulder blades causing him to shiver.

He turned in her arms and took her mouth in a hungry kiss. “You are a devilish little minx, aren’t you?”

“I couldn’t resist,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Come on, let’s go get clean… and dirty.”

“Do you promise to tell me more dirty little fantasies?”

A blush ran up her body as she remembered telling Killian her favorite fantasy about him.

“Don’t get shy now. For someone who says they’re shite with words, you were certainly very chatty in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Killian.” She rolled her eyes and smacked his chest as mortification coursed through her. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the shower, but found herself being swung back into his chest.

Killian wrapped his arms around her middle and pressed his front to her back in a sensual embrace. “Don’t you dare ever feel ashamed to tell me exactly what you want, love. If you want it harder,” he thrust his hips against her ass to elaborate, “if you want it deeper,” he growled, sucking at the lobe of her ear, “if you want my mouth between your thighs…”

Emma moaned as Killian continued rutting his hips against her ass and caressing her with his strong hands. She hung on his every word.

“If you want to watch me stroke my cock,” he said huskily, “just say the words.”

“Fuck, Killian. I want you to fuck me again,” she responded breathily. Taking his hand and pulling him toward the shower again, she met no resistance this time.

Reaching into the shower she turned the water on full blast and then turned around and jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to kiss him while they waited for it to warm up.

He took her again, against the wall of her shower, then they made out until the water began to cool, before they both fell into bed, sated and exhausted.

♡~♥~♡~♥~♡

Emma hummed happily as she stood at the stove making pancakes. Killian was still sound asleep in her bed, the hint of a smile playing at his lips, and a hard case of morning wood if the slight tent of the sheets was anything to judge by. As much as she’d wanted to wake him up with salacious activities, she’d also wanted to let him sleep in. So she’d silently slipped into her black silk robe and headed to the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. Her mind kept jumping to different parts of their evening together, and how much she hoped for a repeat performance.

An unadulterated smile broke out across her face when Killian’s husky voice broke through her morning musings. “Something smells delicious.”

The way he nuzzled into her made her weak in the knees as she protested the compliment. “It’s just from a box.”

“Mmm,” he hummed against her ear, “I’m not talking about the pancakes.”

Emma spun in his arms and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her mind was spinning, it was a little shocking to her that she wasn’t panicking at all about how much they’d discussed last night and how deep their feelings ran for each other. She realized she wasn’t afraid because what they had was worth taking the risk for. Breaking the kiss, she peered into his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes full of emotions that she knew mirrored her own. And the absolutely boyish grin gracing his face made her heart soar.

“What?” he asked as she continued gazing at him.

“Nothing, I’m just... happy.”

“Aye, love, me too.”

Emma leaned in to kiss him again, this time parting her mouth and begging entrance to his as she stroked the seam of his lips with her tongue. “To hell with the pancakes,” she muttered when he opened to her, tongues tangling together. Carding her fingers through his hair, only their breathing and wet kisses filled the air as she pushed him back toward the table until he was sitting with her nestled between his legs.

Untying her robe, Killian caressed his hands up and down the lush skin of her torso before greedily pulling her against him, showing her how ready she had him, not that it was hard to tell through his boxer briefs.

“I smell pancakes. I thought we were eating on the way to the zoo?” a masculine voice said, cutting through the moment.

“David!” Emma gasped.

“Your brother has a key, good to know,” Killian muttered. Emma dropped her head into Killian’s shoulder, willing this to be a dream. That was quickly shattered when she heard Mary Margaret’s voice.

“Are we interrupting something,” Mary Margaret asked, eyes wide as saucers and a smirk begging to be let out.

“EmEm! Killy!” little Leo cooed.

David’s hands had immediately found his hips, as they quite often did before interrogating a suspect. Although the look on his face looked more like he was preparing to beat a perp. “What the… I mean… What’s go- Why the hell is he- Goddammit!” he roared, throwing his hands up in the air, and the toddler snuggled in Mary Margaret’s arms immediately started crying at his father’s outburst. “I thought I said she was off limits?”

“Hey!” Mary Margaret and Emma both yelled. As Emma stepped away from Killian to give her brother a piece of her mind, Killian quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Neither missed the huff of exasperation from David, but both ignored it. Killian quickly folded Emma’s robe over and tied it closed before giving her an attempted wink.

She smiled that happy smile at him before returning a scowl to her brother. “I am not a possession, David. You’re not my father, you’re not my husband, and you’re not my keeper! You don’t get to tell me who I can and cannot be with.” She was outright yelling as she finished.

“I’m not,” he boomed. “I’m telling Killian he can’t be with you. I don’t want you with a cop, Emma!”

“Why is being with a cop good enough for your wife, the one you share a love so pure with and would lay down your life for, but being with a cop isn’t okay for me?”

“It’s not like that, Emma,” David argued.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s it like? I’m dying to understand,” she retorted.

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

“From what?” When David made no move to answer, she shouted her question louder at him. “From what!?”

“Daddy, EmEm, no fight,” Leo cried.

“Emma,” Killian called softly and she turned to look at his calming blue eyes. He was quite the site, clad only in his skivvies, both hands strategically placed over his package. “Let’s get dressed. You both could use a minute to calm down.”

“That’s a great idea,” Mary Margaret piped in. “Take five, we’ll finish making breakfast. You still have that leftover ham from the other night?”

Emma nodded at her sister-in-law, then she and Killian headed toward her bedroom.

“Where are you going, Jones,” David seethed.

“Where the fuck do you think his clothes are, David,” Emma cursed.

Once in the bedroom, Killian pulled Emma into his arms. “Hey, we are going to make him understand, okay. There’s no reason to fight with him. Let’s make him understand. Hear him out, whatever his reasons, and then show him why he’s wrong.”

“No, Killian. He’s being an absolute dick. He has no right to tell me what to do. And I hate whatever his reasons are. I don’t care.”

Killian placed a hand on each of her cheeks and looked into her eyes, before planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Yes you do, love. And we can figure this out.”

Admittedly, some of her anger faded as Killian talked of understanding and explaining and communication. She walked to her dresser and pulled out one of his old t-shirts she’d borrowed at a party at his place.

“You still have this?” he chuckled.

“It smelled like you for a long time after I borrowed it, I like sleeping in it.”

“That party was over a year ago,” he mused.

“I told you, I’ve wanted…,” she paused, trying to find a better word for how she’d felt for so long. “I’ve really liked you for a long time, Killian.”

He slipped the t-shirt over his head before descending on her and kissing her fully. “Maybe almost for as long as I’ve fancied you.”

She just giggled at that, hugging him for fortification before taking his hand and heading back out into the battle zone.

“Wait, I still don’t have pants.”

Emma led him to the guest room.“David and Mary Margaret keep extra clothes here for when they don’t decide early enough who is going to be designated driver.”

“I don’t think Mary Margaret’s pants will fit me, darling.”

“Shut up you goofball,” she laughed as she threw him a pair of David’s sweatpants.

“Let’s sit down and eat, and discuss this like adults,” Mary Margaret, always the mother, ordered everyone when Emma and Killian emerged.

She’d finished cooking the pancakes, whipped up a batch of scrambled eggs, and was just finishing frying up the leftover ham. David was pouring a round of coffee for everyone and holding Leo who was happily babbling now that he had a pancake in his hand and no one was yelling.

After strapping the baby into the portable high chair they kept at Emma’s place, everyone sat down at the table and dug into breakfast.

“Can you just tell me what you think you’re protecting me from?” Emma asked. “I mean you trust Killian with your life, literally. Why don’t you trust him with my heart?”

David’s stoic expression lightened at that. “Does he have your heart, Emma?”

Killian glanced toward Emma and smiled knowingly. They didn’t need to call it love right this instant, but they were definitely invested in each other.

“Answer the question, dear,” Mary Margaret prodded. “Otherwise they don’t have the truth, because trusting Killian has nothing to do with it, and you know it.”

“Fine,” David sighed. “You dealt with abandonment by your own parents, by every subsequent foster parent, by the only friend you made as a child, who turned out to be a fraud, and then with Neal’s betrayal, which almost broke you. I don’t want you to ever experience that abandonment again.” David’s voice broke as he finished explaining. Tears rimmed his eyes as he contemplated even trying to understand what she’d been through. And he would be damned before it happened again, especially by someone who he’d introduced into her life.

“What?” Emma asked incredulously. “That has everything to do with trusting Killian,” she argued. “Why do you assume he’d abandon me.”

Leo quieted as the tension between siblings started to grow again and Mary Margaret looked around the table, jaw clenched and a warning in her eyes to every adult at the table to not upset her baby again.

Killian placed his hand over Emma’s white knuckles where her fist lay balled up on the table. “I don’t think he means I would intentionally leave you, Swan.”

Emma looked between her brother and Killian, a confused furrow cocking her brows.

David chuckled, “See, he gets it.”

“Explain, David. Make her understand where you’re coming from,” his wife urged him.

Wait, Emma thought, it was supposed to be the other way around. She was supposed to be making him understand why she and Killian were a good, no great, thing. Before she could speak though, David started up again.

“Emma, you really think no one sees how much you two are into each other? You really think for almost two years, no one has watched the way you pine for each other, flirt off the charts, tease each other like kids on a playground? You’re like an old married couple half the time, we’d have to be blind not to see it. Killian is a good man, I understand he’d never purposefully hurt you, he’d have to deal with me if he did. But you have to understand that officers die in the line of duty all the time. Being with one means you accept that risk. I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing one more person you loved, especially if it was someone I brought into your life.”

A tear or two trailed down Emma’s cheeks as she listened to her brother. As she really heard what he was saying. For the first time, she understood where he was coming from. It finally made sense why he didn’t want her being with a cop. And it relieved her mind that it had nothing to do with Killian personally, especially because she wasn’t giving him up.

“EmEm, you sad?” Leo asked.

A small laugh turned cry-hiccup escaped Emma’s mouth. “No baby, I’m happy,” she smiled.

Leo clapped his hands, his innocent celebration of an adult human being happy, bringing a smile to everyone’s face.

Emma unfurled her balled up fist under Killian’s comforting hand and interlaced their fingers, giving him a strong smile. “David, while I am thankful that you explained your reason for not wanting me with Killian and I even understand where you’re coming from, I could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus. There are no guarantees in this life.”

David nodded his head as he glanced between her face and her and Killian’s intertwined fingers.

“He has my heart, David, would you deny us that?”

David sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest as he often did when contemplating something. After a full minute, at least, he exhaled a breath bespeaking acceptance, albeit reluctantly. “I’m beginning to see that. And I could never deny you happiness, Emma.”

Emma beamed at her brother, understanding that while his actions may have been off kilter the reasoning behind them was fueled by brotherly love.

Mary Margaret leaned over and kissed her husband on the cheek before flashing Emma and Killian a smile. “Glad we got this settled,” she giggled.

“So, just what are your intentions toward my sister, Jones?”

Emma scoffed loudly, rolling her eyes at David’s attempt at big brother intimidation tactics. But when she heard Killian’s answer, she was kinda thankful to her brother.

“Well Dave, whatever happens between me and Emma is as much up to her as it is me. But I’m in this for the long haul if she’ll have me.”

“Good answer, partner,” David laughed as he threw his hand out across the table in an offer to shake Killian’s. “Two rules,” he added as he squeezed Killian’s hand tighter, “you are never allowed to kiss and tell around me, and if you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

Killian let David have his moment of brotherly protection, because he understood how important it was to cherish Emma. He was the one who’d fancied her for almost two years after all.

“All right, enough of that,” Mary Margaret sighed as she wiped Leo’s hands and face. “Let’s get everything cleaned up, and then we are headed to the zoo as planned. Emma you are free to bail, you and Killian probably have a lot of catching up to do for the last year and a half.”

Emma waggled her eyebrows at her sister-in-law and Killian had the good sense to not dispense with his usual abundance of innuendos, while David just cast the evil eye at his wife.

“What,” Mary Margaret asked, holding her hands up in mock innocence and confusion, “what’d I say?”

“Ga-dammen!” Leo shouted and every head whipped around to look at the little boy as he tugged helplessly at the lap belt of the high chair. “Up, up,” he pleaded.

“Way to go, dear, looks like he’ll have your charming vocabulary,” Mary Margaret scolded her husband.

Not having any kids of their own had Emma and Killian struggling not to bellow out loud at the little guys antics.

“No, no, Leo,” David told his son as he unbuckled the lap belt and picked him up. “That’s a… that’s a daddy word.”

“David! What kind of lesson is that?”

Emma and Killian just looked at each other and started cracking up. “So what do you say? Stay in or join these crazy kids at the zoo?” Emma asked Killian.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am doing,” Emma deadpanned. “I’m asking you out on a date with me, my brother, his wife and kid, and the monkeys too.”

“Sounds delightful as long as you’ll be there,” Killian answered as he pulled her into his embrace and pecked her lips.

“Hey, let’s just take it slow,” David interrupted, “I’m not quite there yet.”

“Oh relax, she’s 28, not 16, they’ve obviously already done the deed, how are you going to get squirmy over a hug?”

“Not helping!” David pleaded with his wife, rubbing his temples in a soothing motion.

“He’s such a baby,” Mary Margaret cracked up. “How about you guys meet us there? No rush,” she added conspiratorially.

“For fuck’s sake, do you want to lay out a trail of rose petals to the bed for them?”

“He’s too easy,” she continued laughing.

“Fuhfuh sake!!” Leo shouted.

Mary Margaret’s laughter cut off immediately as she stared daggers at her husband. “Watch your mouth, he’s a parrot these days!”

“Gonna be a fun day,” Emma said, once the Nolans had departed. She was most definitely trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“It’ll be brilliant, love. You and me, that is the only requisite for my enjoyment.”

“I bet you say that to all the other girls.”

“There are no other girls. Only you, milady.”

“Good,” Emma whispered before pulling him in for a kiss.

“Mmm, let’s practice mating like the animals, Swan.”

Emma laughed so hard her stomach hurt. “I have no doubt David is now timing the drive to the zoo and adding it to the time he thinks it should take us to be ready.”

“I can be quick,” Killian purred as he thrust his hardening length against her stomach.

“Or we could take our time and really freak him out?”

“Your heart’s desire, Swan, I promise, that’s all I want you to have.”

Emma stared into the intense gaze of Killian’s eyes, the blue shining with truth and sincerity. “The long haul, Killian, that’s what my heart desires. You and me.”

The End

Tagging @laschatzi @xhookswenchx @kmomof4 @hookedonapirate @hollyethecurious @jennjenn615 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @apromisednightcap @ultraluckycatnd @wordsmith-storyweaver @darkcolinodonorgasm @nikkiemms @deathbycaptainswan @gingerchangeling @thisonesatellite @resident-of-storybrooke @whimsicallyenchantedrose @tiganasummertree @cocohook38 @snowbellewells @andiirivera @searchingwardrobes @timeless-love-story @artistic-writer @kday426 @imagnifika

#cs fan fic #cs ff #cs smut #captain swan #cs au

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mastar-week · 3 years

Photo

MaStar Members Month Post (Dec 2020 #2)

Featuring: happyisahabit/happyfanart

Good Things™ that happened to me in 2020

I CROSSED 100K OF MASTAR FANFIC WRITTEN

I got back into Naruto and this has actually been excellent bc there are a ton of BAMF Sakura fanfics to devour.

I started painting a lot more and streaming it with family and friends.

I got back in touch with a lot of old friends virtually via zoom and discord and it is wonderful.

Good Things™ to come in 2021

I’m moving in January to a new place!

All things willing, I will FINALLY see the Backstreet Boys again. (I’ve tried to see them twice in recent years and had both canceled.)

A lot of rad new stuff will be happening at work.

More MaStar art and fic. :P

Places to find me:

Tumblr: @happyisahabit / @happyfanart

Archive of Our Own: happyisahabit

Fanfiction.net: happyisahabit

Insta: @liz_paints_sometimes / @astromech_treks

Reflecting on Starlight:

I joined the SE fandom on a whim after logging into my inactive tumblr, seeing some sick gifs of Maka kicking ass, and getting Netflix. I read the manga after that and joined a few fandom events, which I’d never done before. It was fun and I stuck with a vanilla interpretation of the series until I came across Inmates, by l0chn3ss. Then… it was like the walls unraveled and I saw just how big of a playground the SE series was, but I had only been stuck on the swing set.

It was crazy. I wrote my first SE fic (of over 100k by now which is actually insane to me) for MaStar as a BroTP. I did art for Inmates. That was it. I never stopped after that, and though I sometimes write or draw other rarepairs for fun and to give people who like those characters more content, I can’t ever get MaStar out of my head. It’s my default state now tbh.

In the process, I’ve made friends with the ‘starlight squad’ and ‘ma girls’ and that’s greatly enhanced the fun. We talk headcanons, make up child OCs, share WIPs, and support each other and its probably one of the purest group chats I’m in; they’re all great and I would punch a death god in the face for any of them. I’m mentally preparing myself for more MaStar longfic in the future and honestly that should tell you more than anything that this is a true OTP to me.

#mmm #mastar members month #dec 2020 #happyisahabit #submission #happyfanart

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sixtyfourk · 3 years

Note

Hershel Layton and LayClaire for the meme?

Thank you so much! I’m sorry, this is super long.

Hershel Layton:

How I feel about this character:

I love Layton! I really love how, even though he’s a Sherlock Holmes-style genius and puzzle-solver, he has none of the arrogance that usually shows up in those kinds of characters. He’s gentle and kind, and always tries his best to protect others. He just has this calming effect on everything around him, somehow. I love how he shows mercy and kindness even to people that are rude to him or who have hurt him. He’s a true gentleman and really inspires me to be like him, honestly.

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I don’t actively ship him with anyone, but I have some fondness for both Layclaire and Layemmy, the latter mostly because of my friends who like the ship!

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Layton and all of his students/children, but especially Clive, haha… the two of them are very similar in a lot of ways, and I really love the idea of Layton deciding to extend mercy to Clive and helping him become a better person, and along the way, learning that maybe Clive also has some ways to help him as well.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Um… I don’t think he’s an awful dad. I think he’s pretty good, if a bit distant. He’s always kind and thoughtful, and always concerned for Flora’s safety (and I assume Alfendi and Katrielle too; I still haven’t finished Kat’s game). Layton’s main problem is that he doesn’t plan on being a dad, but when someone is in need of a guardian or caretaker, he just can’t say no and jumps to helping them, perhaps without being emotionally prepared. His first instinct is to help. Like, for Flora, Layton just wanted to solve an inheritance dispute, but finds a girl at the top of the tower who has no parents, likes him, and wants to go to London with him. How could he say, “sorry, I’m not ready to be your dad?” and leave her behind?

Layton just needs to learn when to ask for help himself; he has parents and friends that could be a support system if he asked them. I think that he really tries his best, though, and there’s no way that he would ever be abusive or neglectful. I think he really should listen to Flora, of course; I love Flora to bits and I think the way he leaves her behind is awful. I just think that people need to think about Layton’s past, and how he’s trying his best to fill a position that he may never have been ready to take. It’s a grey area, for sure.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I wish Layton got more closure regarding all of the horrible things that happened to him. His long-lost brother vanishes, seemingly dead. His biological dad goes to jail. His best friend returns from the dead, and they never even get a conversation together. Claire dies twice, and while they got a final goodbye, he learned that she was alive and watched her die again all in the space of one day. So many awful things happen to him so quickly, and he never gets the chance to process them.

my OTP:

Layton/therapy

my cross over ship:

Not romantic, but I love his interactions with Phoenix and Maya so much. I want to see them go on another adventure together (this time with Flora! And maybe Trucy or Pearl from AA).

a headcanon fact:

I’ve thought for a long time that Layton has PTSD, but ordinarily manages to hide it quite well. This is why he’s so reticent and doesn’t show his emotions very much, for fear of losing control, and also why he tries so hard to be helpful and understanding to others who share similar traumatic backgrounds to him (for example, why he takes Flora in, why he wants to help Clive, and why he so quickly takes Luke in as an apprentice). It started after Randall’s death, became worse after Claire’s first death, and was re-triggered for a third time after Claire’s second death and Luke’s move overseas. Layton was trying to help Clive after this by visiting him, but seeing the similarities between Clive’s PTSD and and his own, and seeing Flora and Clive’s concern for him, he was finally convinced to go and get help for his own trauma.

Layclaire:

when I started shipping it if I did:

I’ve always shipped them casually because I enjoyed the story of PL3 so much.

my thoughts:

Layclaire is one of those complicated ones for me, where I like it in canon and don’t have a problem with it, but I don’t get butterflies thinking about them like I do for my OTPs. Recently though, I got a little more invested in shipping them after reading an old post about the parallels between Layclaire and Clive’s parents. (Of course it was Clive related… :P) Basically, I don’t ship them hard, but I appreciate how they work together in the story and how they make PL3’s story meaningful.

What makes me happy about them:

I love how Claire was such a wonderful new part of Layton’s life! After playing the prequels, we know how tumultuous his early life was, and after losing Randall and having to leave Stansbury, I imagine that Hershel felt pretty lost. Claire’s bright-eyed idealism and motivation might have inspired Hershel, and likewise, Hershel’s quieter nature might have been grounding to Claire.

What makes me sad about them:

Claire’s dead…

Also, I wish we got to know Claire a little better! Maybe if we got to play as young Hershel in a similar way to playing as teen!him in Miracle Mask? I’d like to get to know Claire in the same way that we got to know teen Randall; it might make her loss more meaningful. (I know Clark and Brenda didn’t exist yet, but it would’ve been fun to see them too during a flashback!)

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I haven’t read a lot of Layclaire fanfics, honestly, so I’m not sure. I don’t know if this is the case in any, but I’d be a bit annoyed if Claire was the “manic pixie dream girl” to a depressed Layton and cured his depression, or something. At the same time, I do think she would have helped him a lot, so I might not be too picky with this.

things I look for in fanfic:

I love fanfics that build on Claire’s character, or give her more of a backstory! Take Two, which is an AU in which Claire survives the explosion and she and Layton adopt Clive, gives Claire a lot of good backstory; she was an adopted child herself, for example. It also lets her grapple with feelings of guilt over having caused the explosion. People often let Layton feel darker emotions in fanfics, but I don’t often see Claire being allowed to have that range of emotion (although again, I admit that I haven’t read a lot of Layclaire-centric stories, just ones that have Layclaire as a part of a bigger plot). Basically, I’d like to see Claire grow as a character, and see her be allowed to feel darker emotions like Layton is allowed to.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I’m not sure… Maybe Emmy for Layton? And Claire could become bros for life with Dimitri.

My happily ever after for them:

In a canon-like universe, I’m okay with Claire dying, to be honest (although I feel bad saying that) but I wish that she and Layton had a bit more time together. Maybe if they had a week where they could talk through everything they never got the chance to? In a universe where Claire never died, I’d like to see her as a part of Layton’s other adventures, becoming Flora’s mom and being a mentor to Luke.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Layton’s the little spoon, I think, but Claire lets him be the big spoon sometimes.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

They love to ramble to each other about their projects. They’ll make a pot of tea, and sit down, and talk through what they’re excited about and what they’re having troubles with, and give each other advice. Even though they’re in separate fields of study, they always give each other new ideas. I think that they might have been planning an interdisciplinary project together on Azran technology before the explosion.

#thank you so much! I'm sorry this is so long #long post #64's headcanons #hershel layton #claire foley #layclaire #101flavoursofweird

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ceallachs · 4 years

Text

thank you.

This announcement is a little overdue, but I’ve gained over 1k followers on this blog! 🥳🥳🥳

I actually passed this milestone a while ago. Life has just been getting to me with so much to do that I can only manage a couple of drawings at a time. So I don’t have anything special other than my heartfelt thanks and some words. Under this post, I address a lot of things in regards to my art journey, fandoms, future plans with BakuTodo, and a lot of it is about AkaKuro.

So if you are interested, please read on. If you’re here just to check my art, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to let my work be part of your day and for your support. ^^

I know I was mostly only posting KnB/AkaKuro stuff until only a couple months ago, so the change from KnB to BNHA was pretty drastic and nerve-racking. I’ve been thinking of making the move as early as December 2019, but I hesitated for the longest time. As someone who has built their fandom “identity” around AkaKuro and KnB, making that move to another fandom, to another OTP even, may have come as a surprise to a lot of my old followers and friends. I do not keep track of every individual followers I get; surely some have left, or maybe some still stick around to see if I will get back to AkaKuro again, one day.

Interests are fleeting and people change constantly. In a time where people always jump onto the next big thing to another in a short span of time, I can say that I have a pretty good streak of committing to my main fandoms. My first online fandom lasted for seven years. The next was KnB, and this one lasted for nine years.

I was a teenager when I joined the KnB fandom and now I’m in my 20s. I still love AkaKuro with all my heart; it will always be a big part of who I am, but I have to admit at some point where I am now in life, and I will say I have already moved on.

This is an excerpt from my Twitter that I thought I should also address here because it sums up everything I’ve wanted to say. I’ve made some major tweaks and edits and added more things to properly articulate my feelings about the matter. I hope it is understandable enough.

It started in November.

In the first few months of dabbling with BakuTodo, I was very, very scared. I was worried because I was such a prominent person for the AkaKuro fandom; I hosted and held events for years, I stayed "active" for AkaKuro even five years after KnB had ended. I wrote fics, drew stuff, promoted every AkaKuro thing I can even when all my AkaKuro friends have moved on. I have so much AkaKuro merch and doujins because it had taken over my life that prominently.

So after all of that, I didn't know what would happen with a change because I felt like I was already in too deep to move on now. I wasn't sure if I could (should) like anything else, or if I was even allowed to like something else as deeply as AkaKuro without letting people down.

Eventually I just gave in three months later and became more vocal about this new interest. I lost followers which was expected, even those whose handles that became very familiar to me because they actively interacted with me about AkaKuro and KnB before. It stung but not as badly as I thought it would. The change was nice; I felt free.

I think it's only now that I've become comfortable to admit all this in public. To admit my worries, to admit that I've liked a ship more than AkaKuro for a while, to admit that the weight of AkaKuro being prominently tied to my name like an identity has become too heavy a burden to bear. I still do love AkaKuro, it's a part of my life that will never change, I think. But it's also not my main source of happiness nor inspiration anymore, and I hope that, it's okay for me to feel that way now that I've said it out loud.

It's strange to explain, but I think it's because I've dedicated a huge chunk of my life to AkaKuro that I think I've already exhausted all I have to give for it. Nine years of being solely dedicated to one ship is a long time, you have to admit. It's not like my other ships that are more casual, so that burst of excitement will always be present when it gets brought up once in a while. With AkaKuro, my feelings for it have significantly mellowed down, like a precious memory now tucked away in a special place in my heart.

A friend told me that it's okay to move on, and that somewhere down the line AkaKuro will become something I'll look back on fondly even though bittersweet. I have no doubts that'll be the case. But it's also nice to finally just be honest and set myself free.

I've also been feeling very guilty of promising an AkaKuro zine last December and now... it is just the last thing on my mind. I have so much more I want to do that is no longer about AkaKuro, and I shouldn’t force myself to do this zine out of obligation. But if ever someone else were to host an AkaKuro zine, I will support it and even participate if the timing is right.

About my future plans, I don’t think I will be drawing KnB again out of leisure (maybe for commissions, or projects, etc). I still have a lot of unfinished and unreleased KnB fanmerch though (an AkaKuro yukata standee and Carnival AkaKuro standee, and maybe a re-release of some old charms for the last time), so that may be the last of my contribution to this ship out of my own volition for a while. It would be a waste to scrap them.

Right now, all my love and inspiration for anything creative and self-indulgent is being driven by BakuTodo and it’s the best feeling I’ve had in a long time. I want to draw more about them; I have long list of ideas I’m excited to get into. Not only that, my love for writing was reawakened too, and I hope to also post fics about them along with my art.

I still love AkaKuro, and people can still talk to me about AkaKuro, but it is definitely not my priority ship anymore. Who knows if I'll come back to it again, but for right now, I hope everyone will be okay with the change. And if not, that's okay too and I expected it, I also put this out here to give the go signal if anyone wants to unfollow or not. I know there are people who only follow for specific content, and I've come to terms with myself to be okay with this happening with me.

Just know I'm happy where I am. I'm grateful to friends and acquaintances who still stick around to support me even after this, and I also understand if some don’t. I hope those who leave will find another content creator to cater to their needs. Thanks for giving me a chance. ^^

I hope this clears up the kind of content to be expected from me from now on. I will never forget my time in the KnB fandom because this is where it all started for me. I will also be slowly getting rid of more AkaKuro doujins, fanmerch, and official merch collection once the lockdown situation eases up. Hopefully someone else will find homes for them.

Tumblr is not my main social media but I still do like the format of blogging here, so I stay to cross-post my art from Twitter and Instagram.

From exclusively drawing cheebs, I’m now also drawing non-cheebs and I’m having a lot of fun. My art is far from perfect and that’s okay. As someone who gave up on art for nine years, being able to do it again now, sharing and posting my art and actually be happy about it is more than enough for me. I’m not striving for perfection, I know where my level is at. Drawing and writing are both hobbies I hold dear -- a creative outlet for me to express my love for what I’m currently passionate about and what makes me happy. I really appreciate it if you stay with me for this ride because I know I’ve come a long way these past 2-3 years.

To anyone who views my art, likes and reblogs, leaves nice comments and all, I hope you know that I appreciate you a lot. I rarely get messages on here, but I do read tags on my posts often, and going through them always puts a smile on my face to know that I have an audience here who genuinely likes what I do.

There isn’t much more for me to say here so I think that will be all. Again, thank you for 1k+ followers! If I can make even just a single person happy with my art, whether you’re new here or just dropping by or have been following me for a long time, I’ll be content. And if I can make someone like BakuTodo too through how I portray them, that’d be even more amazing. ^^

Until next time. 💖

#chii speaks #akakuro

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thesmalltowngal · 4 years

Text

Snowbaz 31- Our Purpose

OTP Prompt #31: The night after Simon shows Baz the stars, Baz can't help but ask for it one more time.

~ So I was having some major troubles writing the current request that I'm working on, so I decided to get the creative juices flowing by writing a paragraph of something I couldn't get out of my head. This what that paragraph turned into. I'm very unsure about this one, and I've been having a bit of a rough go of it lately, so some love in the comments would be really appreciated, if you wouldn't mind. I hope you guys enjoy! :) ~

*Simon's POV*

"Sim- er, uh, Snow. Well I was wondering. I was wondering, if, perhaps, maybe-" I dunno what I've done. I think I've broken him. Baz stumbled in our room early this morning, while I was getting ready for breakfast. He came in, and started rambling about Crowley knows what, and Baz never rambles. He's too bloody perfect for that. But now it seems like he can't stop rambling, which I don't know what to make of. I'm making an utter mess of my tie, and although he'd usually make a remark about my oafishness, he just continues to bluster.

It's my turn to be an insufferable prat, I s'pose. "Spit it out, Basil." He flushes (he must've just fed) and looks down at his feet. The tosser isn't even looking me in the eyes. (We used to never make eye contact when we fought, really. Started only just fifth year, and then I realized his eyes made him right fit, so why ignore them?) Baz moves to sit on his bed and he seems... nervous. Like he might just go off at any second, so I change tactics and move to sit next to him. (Another sure sign of him being off? He's letting me sit on his bed.)

He takes in a breath and composes himself. He still doesn't bloody look at me, but I look at him. Which is right weird, innit? Don't care. "When I was younger, my mum-" He stammers and looks somewhere near my face briefly, before continuing. "She used to tell me about how bright the stars were. Always said she'd take me to see them one day." He lets out a small, pitiful laugh, which is wrong for many reasons. Baz doesn't laugh. And Baz most certainly is not pitiful. I'd said so once, and he nearly shoved me into the floor right there, anathema and all. (I s'pose he could be telling me this to get sympathy. For his plotting. Why else would he tell me about his mum?)

"I'm sorry... about your mum, Baz." Even if he's plotting, it's the least I can say. I know he must miss her, though I've never had a mum, so I dunno what that'd feel like. Right sad, I s'pose.

He waves me off. "Anyway... obviously, she never got to stick to her word," He looks up at me then, right in the eyes, before looking away. He doesn't want to be telling me all this, I can tell. But... maybe he needs to. (He's plotting, my brain reminds me. Right. Plotting. Of course.) "But last night, Snow. Last night I got to see the stars, if only for a moment." I've got no idea where the loon is going with this. We saw the stars last night yes, but what does that have to do with my missing a spot of brekkie? (The scones are calling me.)

"Okay? But I don't-"

"Hush up a minute, Snow." He sneers, back to himself a bit. Some part of me is relieved, seeing him back to his snarky self, even if he is a complete prat. "So I was wondering, if we are on a... truce, of sorts... would you- er - could you-" He groans and runs a hand through his hair. (It's not slicked today. He should wear it like this more- it's less posh. Makes him look more fit than usual, which is hard to do. For a bloke, anyway.) He sets his jaw, and whatever's coming, I know I won't be able to say no. (Unless I think it's part of his plot.) He looks at me, and with resolution I've not heard from him before, he says, "Just this once, Snow, could you take me to see the stars again?"

I dunno what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. He wants me to take him back to the stars. Part of me knows it's a bad idea. He's my enemy, and more than likely he's taking notes for his bloody plot. He'd have full access and ability to catch me off guard and kill me at any moment. And, to top it all off, I'd be missing food! All so he can... see the stars with me? (Not with me. Because of me. I'm his only resource. Not with me.)

Which is why what comes out of my mouth next seems to surprise us both. "Of course I will, Baz." And I take his hands. (It's like they move with minds of their own.) I s'pose breakfast can wait a bit.

*Baz's POV*

I don't know why I thought this was a good idea for even a moment. I should have thought it through- I always think these things through. Maybe it was the way the stars reminded me of mother, or the way Simon's hand felt in mine - or even the intoxication of his magic - but something made me ask him to do it again. And even more surprisingly; he is. He's taken my hands and started filling me with his magic. Leave it to Snow to make me feel like an empty vast of nothing, waiting to be filled. (By him.)

"Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star." I cast. I only have to cast about two lines of the rhyme before the room around us falls away and we're floating in space. All around us, thousands and thousands of stars. But the only thing I can focus on is Simon. He's got his eyes closed and he's sat cross-legged, and his tie is haphazardly slung around his neck. His shirt is unbuttoned part way (he's always trying to kill me, the tosser) and his curls, as always, are tousled and bloody chaotic. But the thing that mesmerizes me most about him is the way he glows. He always glows (to me, anyway), but surrounded by these stars, he shines even brighter.

When I finally wrench my eyes from him (what a sad thing to do) to look at the stars, I feel Simon looking at me. His gaze is burning, as always, and I can only simply ignore it. All around us are supernovas, and stars light years and light years away. (And he's still watching me. Why is that?)

I turn my head back toward him. (It's a bit awkward, holding his hands while I plan on being rude to him. Even after all he's done... I can't help it.) "Can I help you, Snow?" He flushes red (I do wish I could see how far done the blush goes) and only shakes his head.

He thinks for a moment (unusual for him) before saying, softly, "Your mum really promised you that she'd do this for you?" I nod in response. We're quiet for a long while before he tugs my hands and I nearly sprawl on top of him. (It's hard to remember there's a bed under us. If I think about it for too long, the stars fade.) (He's a bloody wreck, he is.)

After a moment of adjusting, we're laying down, side by side, hand in hand. Looking up at the stars. I hear Simon say "There was something else your mum said..." I don't know what he's on about, but if it involves him keeping something about my mum from me, we're going to have larger issues. "She said to- to um, give you something." I'm focused on making sure the stars don't fade. I don't want to leave. I feel safe, here next to my enemy. (Merlin. Funny how that works, yeah?)

"Well? What is it? Come on then, Snow." He turns his head to look at me, and I do the same. (It's all I can do to keep the stars from fading and being replaced by blue eyes and bronze curls around us.) He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to my forehead. My stomach twists (in a pleasant way or not, I'm not quite sure. In a way.) I can feel my hand shaking slightly in Simon's. Luckily, I don't sweat. I run cold, thank Merlin.

"She told me to give you that." He settles back against the bed and if it weren't for my superior hearing, I might not have heard him.

"Right, well. That's... thank you Snow." He looks over at me, but I don't look back at him, for fear of making the stars disappear. I know we can't stay here forever, but... I'd like to stay as long as I can. As long as he'll let me.

*Simon's POV*

I wonder how long he'll let me look at the stars with him. (Well. I'm more looking at him, but 's the same thing, innit?) This has been nicer than we've ever bloody been to each other, and it's... well it's not terrible, I reckon. He's not snapped at me, and he didn't make a move to kill me when I... well, when I gave him what his mother gave me. And he hasn't made a move to leave yet. Not that I like holding hands with my enemy looking at the stars, but, well. I s'pose it's better than having him plot.

When I look over, he's gazing up at the thousands - millions - of stars above us. He looks sad almost, but that can't be right. Baz is never sad. A complete arsehole, and maybe sometimes lonely, yes, but not sad. I never really thought him lonely, either. He has Dev and Niall, and in some fucked up way, he almost has me, too. I'm not saying I wouldn't kill him given the chance- but p'raps if he were in mortal danger I wouldn't just stand around. But I think that's what any decent person would do, even if the bloke was their enemy. (I think briefly about the fact that I'm missing breakfast, and my stomach's started to rumble, but I don't want to move. I'll think about why, later.)

I've been thinking a lot, lately. (Baz'd snort if I told him that. Well that's a first, Snow he'd say. Prat.) A lot meaning more than usual, and lately meaning since last night. Since we saw the stars the first time. I've been thinking about the stars, and Watford, and the Old Families, and him. Baz, I mean. About how all the stars have a reason, so we do, too. They're up there with a purpose, and I think that maybe we are too. What it is, I dunno, but... well I'm thinking maybe I don't want to kill Baz. And not because he seems to have gone a bit soft. Because I don't really want to. Why take away someone who has a purpose here? Who's a star? I'm not saying I want a bloody cuppa with him, and it doesn't mean I like him all the sudden. Just that maybe I want something new.

But I dunno. I think 's just me who wants that, anyway. Baz turns to me, and I've only just now realized I've been staring at him. (He's about to bite my bloody head off, I just know it.) "Thank you, Snow. Really... thank you." I dunno what I was expecting, but it wasn't that. I can only nod in response.

...

I miss brekkie... and teatime... and lunch, and dinner while I'm in the stars with Baz. It didn't really matter because whenever I thought of food, it appeared, anyway. My magic hasn't been exhausted yet, odd enough. The few times I conjured food for Baz, he wouldn't eat it, the stubborn prick. S'pose he'll just bloody starve. But instead of fighting him on it, I just frowned and he pretended not to notice.

We haven't talked all that much. I think it's because I don't wanna fuck anything up and have him pulling away. I like watching the stars. It's been so peaceful here with him, for the first time... ever, and for as long as he'll stay, I want him to. I know we'll have to leave this bubble of safety eventually. I just. Well, I don't want to do it now. (Crowley I wish it could last longer.)

But far too soon for my liking (I still put that into my box of things not to think about), Baz looks at me, and I feel the stars blinking out, one by one. "Snow, I think perhaps it's time we come down to Earth." Something twists in my gut, but I ignore it and pull my magic back in all the same. As fast as the stars had come, they disappear, and we're left in our very bland, but very familiar and safe room in Mummers. Nothing changed, everything untouched. (I wondered briefly if the stars were his plot to have someone come in while we were gone and steal my things. I didn't think about it for long.)

I'm faintly aware that we're still holding hands, and even though I pulled back, they still feel like magic.

*Baz's POV*

We're still holding hands, and true to supernovas, I think I may combust. This day has been wonderful, and I curse at myself for telling him to end it. But I realized that I got so much of Snow today - more than I ever could have asked for - that it wasn't fair to him. He bloody did it out of pity. He was lovely today- offering me food, letting me see the stars for my mum, kissing me, and staying with me the whole day. But I can't let myself be fooled by it; we're still enemies, and nothing more. He did this because he felt bad for the poor, motherless vampire who just wanted to see the stars for her. Well the toff can just bugger off. (I dreadfully wish he wouldn't, though.)

But he's looking at me now, and instead of telling him that he's dead from the neck up, I say, "Thank you again, Simon. For everything. For the stars," Even in the dark, I can see him flush. "I'm sorry I kept you-"

"Don't be, Baz. Wasn't any trouble. 'Course I helped." He sits up, dragging me up with him. He realizes that we're still holding hands and quickly pulls away, despite my (silent) protestations. (I suppose he's still repulsed by me. Figures.)

"It's just that..." It's all too much. Him doing this for me a second time. The whole day. It's too much and I'm still high off his magic, and he's right here saying that I shouldn't be sorry. I don't know whether to blame him, the magic, or the stars for what I say next. (Granted, they're all basically the same thing.) "Simon, you were the brightest thing in my day. And we spent it amongst the stars." He looks taken aback, and almost instantly I regret what I said. You're the brightest thing in my day? And we spent it amongst the stars?! It's a load of poetic tosh is what it is, and not even good poetic tosh. It's not even poetic! (Never mind the fact that I just confessed my largest secret to the one straight person that it's about.)

He doesn't react for a long moment, in which I spend sufferingly staring at his Adam's apple. "Listen Snow, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... it's just that-" I'm cut off by his lips on mine and his hands in my hair. I'm most definitely combusting, now.

I suppose it was a bit poetic then... wasn't it?

*Simon's POV*

I've found it. It's this. This is my purpose. My star.

#Snowbaz #Simon #Simon snow #baz #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz fanfic #fanficiton #mlm #watford #stars #carry on #spells #magic #Watford School of Magicks #rainbow rowell

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wallywrites · 4 years

Text

heartache, loneliness, guilt

Part 2: in the days between

(Part 1)

This is part 2 or a 3 part wolfstar au series taking place during the war; the Potters are in hiding, Remus is recruited by Dumbledore to go on secret missions, and Sirius is alone.

If y’all have any requests, let me know and I’ll see what I can do! (Any OTP is fine but wolfstar is my personal favourite 😉)

I hope y’all enjoy!

Part 3 coming soon!

~~~

It’s been three days since he left, and Sirius was back in that dark place. The heartache, the loneliness, the guilt all came rushing back the moment he watched his fiancé walk out the door.

The first night, he was already having nightmares to the point where he would wake up, wand pointed towards the door, heavy chest and full of fear, and by the second night he wasn’t sleeping at all.

Something that wasn’t unusual, whenever they took Remus. Whenever he was alone.

A sigh escaped him as he pushed himself from their bed, rubbing his hands over his face as he stared to the wall.

His eyes wandered over to their dresser, landing on the many picture frames which sat on top.

Pushing himself from the bed, he let his feet drag him towards the dresser, his eyes landing on his favourite photo.

They were sat in the Gryffindor common room, laughing at something’s James had said. Remus was sat in Sirius’ lap, his arms draped around his shoulders, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the image.

James had said that he’d never seen Sirius so happy than he was in that moment, and Sirius would respond by rolling his eyes, but he knew that it was true.

Sirius had never been as happy as he was in that moment, sitting and laughing with his closest friends, the love of his life on his lap, the only worries in their minds being who was going to win the next quidditch match.

He chuckled out, his chest beginning to hurt again as his eyes watered. He really did miss Remus, and his heart ached more when he thought about it.

Another sigh escaped him as he rubbed his eyes, before pushing himself from the room and towards the bathroom.

He knew what Remus would say if he saw the state which Sirius was in. “You have to look after yourself, Sirius! You can’t just stop living because I’m not there!”

It worried Remus, his heart aching as he thought of how Sirius treated himself, how he couldn’t look after himself when he was worried about his fiancé.

Sirius knew it was wrong of him to, but sometimes he couldn’t even force himself out of his bed.

It would only get worse, the longer Remus was away, so he knew for now, whilst he still had some motivation, some energy, he should at least try.

So, he entered the bathroom, turned the shower on and stripped.

The warm water defiantly helped to calm him down, his breathing steadying as he closed his eyes, trying to relax.

He began to wash himself, knowing that hygiene is somewhat important, and that if Remus were here, he would be scolded.

“I’m not kissing you until you’re clean, Sirius!” He would say, which usually resulted in Sirius chasing him around the room, eventually catching him, pulling him into his arms.

“Get off me, you smell!” He would say, laughing like a child as Sirius placed kisses all over him. Remus always insisted that he hated it, but they both know he really didn’t.

Sirius thought, about Remus, about the war, what was happening around them, what he wished it was like instead, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the water, which was now cold.

He sighed as he opened his eyes, turning the water off as he pushed himself through the shower curtain.

He sighed as he wrapped his towel around his waist, leaning his hands on the bench as he looked to the mirror, his eyes wandering over his own face.

He looked exhausted, he was exhausted. His hair clung to his skin, still soaking with water, the droplets dripping down onto him.

He sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment, but footsteps filled his ear, causing his eyes to open, his heart beating faster as he looked towards the door.

He grabbed his wand quickly, something he now keeps on him at all times as he moved towards the doorway slowly, listening as the footsteps got louder.

The door to their bedroom creaked opened as Sirius pushed himself into the room, pointing his wand towards the door.

He paused, flinching slightly as James raised his arms, stopping in his tracks.

“Hey! Just me” he said as Sirius let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, sending water flying off of him as he spoke.

“Bloody hell mate! What are you doing here?”

“I have a key” he said, his hand moving, the key bouncing in his hand as Sirius groaned out. His hand moved down his face as he rolled his eyes.

“No, why are you here?”

“To check on you.. It’s been three days.”

James knew that Sirius always struggled, but due to the restrictions given to both the Potters and Sirius by Dumbledore, communication between them was hard, which is why James felt the need to come here himself.

To check on his best friend. To check on his brother.

“.. come on, pack a bag you’re staying with us a few nights.”

“James-“

“I’m serious, Pads.

There was a time when he would have responded with “No, I’m Sirius”, but he couldn’t, he didn’t have energy to joke, to laugh. Which only worried James more.

“I’m fine, James.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in three days, I doubt you’ve eaten anything either. You’re not fine, Pads. I know you’re not.”

And he was right. He was always right when it came to how Sirius was feeling.

“Really, James, I’ll be okay-“ Sirius began, but was cut off as James grabbed his forearm, already knowing what was there.

Sirius didn’t have to look when James shoved his forearm into his face, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Look at it, Pads.” Was all he said as Sirius sighed, his eyes moving over his skin, a new scar forming amongst the others.

He wasn’t proud of what he did. But he hurt, and he suffered, and sometimes, it just got too much.

They all knew it happened, as much as Sirius would deny it, would say that he’s fine. And James knew him too well.

“You’re not fine. You need help. We want to help.” James practically pleaded at this point. Sirius was stubborn, but James didn’t care. Sirius was his brother, and his brother was hurting, hurting enough to want to leave permanent reminders of that pain.

Sometimes James wondered if it was about the pain, or if it made him feel closer to Remus, to his scars. But either way, he wanted to help. Needed to be there for his brother.

“It’s old, okay? It’s from a while ago.” He lied, as if it was natural, like he always did when it came to expressing what he was feeling. Worrying the people he cared about. James never brought it.

He pulled his arm from James as his own crossed over his chest.

“A while ago being within the last three days?”

Sirius tried to think of any other excuse why he couldn’t go. He wanted to. God he wanted to. But they shouldn’t have to deal with his suffering. He didn’t want them to.

“You know I’m not meant to leave” he said, knowing very well that Dumbledore would disapprove. But James didn’t care. James stopped caring about the professor’s approval the moment he took Remus from them. From Sirius.

“Look, we’re worried about you. And we miss you. Harry misses his uncle Padfoot” he said, causing a sigh to escape Sirius.

The truth was, Sirius didn’t want to share his problems, his issues, because he cared too much about them.

They had so much going on, that he didn’t want to burden them, didn’t want them focusing on looking after him. He wasn’t important enough.

Except he was. Sirius was so important, to everyone. And they never knew why he couldn’t see it. Why he couldn’t see just how important he is.

And he knew that he needed to be with someone, to distract him from his thoughts, but James didn’t give him a chance to say no, already opening their closet to begin packing.

He turned, throwing a shirt towards Sirius, along with a pair of pants as he grabbed the duffel bag from the floor.

“Get dressed, Pads” he said as Sirius sighed, following his orders. He pulled his pants over his legs, his shirt over his head, putting his wet towel in the hamper as he made his way to James.

James zipped up the bag as Sirius reached for a coat, pausing as his eyes stopped on the fabrics, most belonging to Remus.

James noticed, sighing out a he grabbed a coat belonging to Remus, knowing that Sirius would regret not choosing it later.

He pulled it from the hanger, helping to put in on Sirius as his eyes landed on his hair, still drenched with water, his shirt now wet.

“You haven’t even dried your hair, Sirius. You’re going to catch a cold.” He said, grabbing a beanie from the closet as he pushed it over the wet hair.

Sirius didn’t bother answering, the only thing on his mind being the smell of Remus. He clung the coat closer to him as James sighed, picking up the bag and closing the wardrobe.

“Come on, Pads.”

They made their way down the stairs, Sirius taking a seat at the bottom to put his shoes on.

James took a few steps into the lounge room, laughing out at the three unfinished puzzles, which laid over the carpet.

“He’s still just as messy?”

It wasn’t that Remus intended to be messy. It’s just what happened.

He would be doing something, and get excited or distracted by the next thing, and then he’d start something new, and would always promise to go back to the first thing, but that usually didn’t happen.

Sirius always thought it was because Remus wanted to know everything, had so much to learn and do, and not enough time for it all.

“We do them when he comes home, but I don’t want to finish one without him. By the time he gets back again he’s bored of the old one, so we start a new one..” Sirius explained as James chuckled out.

He used to do the same with books. Start reading one book, and then get excited about another book. Then he’d read the new book, until he found another he was excited for. And the cycle continued.

Usually with books though, he’d go back, finish ones he forgot to, because for some reason, leaving a book unfinished was one of the worst thing he could do, in his opinion.

“You ready?” James asked as Sirius stood, sighing as he made his way towards the door, pausing at the nightstand that stood, piles of sticky notes laying on top.

James knew what he was doing the moment he saw the sticky notes in Sirius’ hand. Something he started to do the first day Remus had left.

Every day, from the moment Remus would leave to the moment he came back, Sirius would leave a note, saying where he was if he had left the house. So that, if he wasn’t home when Remus returned, he would know exactly where to find him.

Sirius knew that Remus wouldn’t be back in the next few days, might not be back in a long while, but something in him made him write the note. He had to. Just in case.

He finished the note, sticking it to the wall as another sigh escaped him. James stood next to him, already holding the duffel bag as they left.

Sirius didn’t remember the cold walk to where the Potters were being kept, where they were hiding.

He knew it was long, and his hair had almost frozen by the time they walked inside the warm house.

James took his coat off, hanging it on the hooks by the door, but Sirius just held his tighter.

“Sirius!” Lily exclaimed happily as she pulled him into a hug. Sirius chuckled, his arms wrapping around her as she spoke.

“I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Lils.”

Lily pulled from the embrace, her eyes landing on his hair.

“Your hair is wet, you must be freezing”

“I’m fine, Lils”

James chuckled, kissing Lily on the cheek as they made their way into the living room. Lily moved towards the cot, which sat by the couch, reaching down to pick up her son as Sirius smiled.

“Harry missed his uncle” she said as she held the boy, moving towards Sirius. Sirius smiled, reaching out towards the child as Lily happily handed him over.

“Hey Harry, I missed you too” he said towards the baby, causing his heart to warm. Not in the same way it had been burning, but a warmth that made him calm. Harry always had that affect on him.

Harry always seemed to calm too, when Sirius held him. He used to joke about it all the time.

“I’m mans best friend, Prongs.”

“Oh bite me, Sirius”

“Is that a proposition?”

Sirius missed those days, when they could still laugh like nothing was wrong, joking together, like what they did when they were young.

“.. are you okay?” She asked as he looked towards her, answering as he always did.

“I’m fine”

“.. I can make you something to eat?”

“I’m really not hungry, Lils.”

“.. okay, but you’re having breakfast. And you don’t get a choice” she said sternly, a smile making its way on her face as he chuckled, nodding.

Lily knew what Sirius was like. They all knew. And she also knew that giving him an option, he’ll always choose the one he shouldn’t.

Always choose the “I’m fine” option, when he really needed to say “actually I’m struggling”, and “I need help”.

So she didn’t give him an option. She would compromise, but in the end, what Lily wants, Lily would get.

Plus, it was hard for any of them to say no to Lily.

So, he agreed, knowing that he was going to have to eat eventually. And he didn’t want them to worry about him, when they should be worrying about themselves, or about Harry, or about Remus.

Lily just smiled, nodding, but they knew he wanted to be alone. It wasn’t a bad thing, for him to be alone. Sometimes that’s exactly what he needed. But they always made sure to not be too far, for when he needed his friends.

And so they took Harry to bed, and Sirius found his way in their room. His room. Remus’ room, where they used to stay together whenever they would visit. And he was sad again.

“Pads..” James said, making his way into the room as Sirius sighed out again. He hadn’t moved in a few hours, and tears had stained his cheeks.

“It’s tomorrow tonight, James.”

James knew exactly what he was talking about, because ever since the beginning, since Remus began going on missions, he would keep track of every full moon. Every single one.

And the idea that Remus would be alone tomorrow made them all want to cry. Especially Sirius.

“.. I know, Pads.” He said simply as Sirius sighed, looking towards his brother. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

James sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. Something they didn’t do nearly enough.

“I miss him too. But you have to look after yourself, Pads. For him. You need to be whole when he gets back.”

Sirius knew he was right. Remus hated it when he came home to find Sirius in such a state. He blamed himself for it, which only upset Sirius more.

Because Sirius would never blame Remus for any of it. He loved Remus, and hated that Remus thought his suffering was his fault.

Sirius closed his eyes, sighing as he nodded his head, his arms wrapping around James.

And the next day went by with a blur. He didn’t remember much, barely slept the night before.

And suddenly it was night again, and it got worse. He got worse.

And so, the whole night he didn’t sleep. How could he?

Instead, he sat on the windowsill, staring up towards the full moon, heart aching, stomach churning. And it didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

It never did.

~~~

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