#gonna tag those in the other ones as well!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: baby girls, he we go.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 

“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 

You face him, “hot tub?” 

“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 

“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 

You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 

‘Is Bucky still there?’  

You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 

“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 

“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 

“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 

“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 

You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 

“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 

“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 

“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 

“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 

‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  

Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 

At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 

You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 

“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 

“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 

You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 

Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 

Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 

You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 

A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  

You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  

You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 

As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 

“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 

“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 

“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 

Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 

“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 

He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 

Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 

You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 

You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 

He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 

You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 

“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 

You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 

“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 

“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 

“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 

“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 

“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 

“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 

“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 

“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 

“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 

“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 

“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 

“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 

“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 

“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 

He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 

“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 

“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 

He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 

You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 

“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 

You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 

“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 

As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 

“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 

You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 

“Please...” you gasp. 

“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 

Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 

The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 

“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 

“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 

“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 

[pookietsunoda]

Saw this post abt Alonso getting accidentally electrocuted and thinking he was 14 (as well as this tag on a reblog)

what if... the whole grid accidentally got struck by some deus ex machina non fatal zap that gave them temporary amnesia and they all became convinced they were 14 for a day? Here is what I think would happen:

First off, they're all so hyped about being F1 drivers and get excited about the dumbest shit (phone games, wheel guns, tire blankets)

Max and Charles fight each other over the Inchident

George is starstruck by the fact that Alex is an F1 racer (bc Alex was his karting hero growing up) but Alex didn't become friends with George until he was 15, so he has no idea who George is, which is Humiliating to fragile teenage George.

Half of them can't speak English fluently yet. Only the younger ones (Oscar, Franco, etc) know that google translate exists and they help massively in the linguistic problems.

Unclear whether or not Pierre and Esteban are besties or enemies, or both. They are one of those things, and they're insane about it because they're teenagers. Lance and Esteban are probably like Normal friends though.

Lewis is like "where tf is Nico" and finds adult Nico. Lewis is super pumped to hear that they both made it to F1, were teammates and won WDCs, Lewis is an F1 GOAT, and that Nico married his childhood crush. (Their life trajectories literally sound like what a kid imagines their future to be like.) And Nico is like "hey we actually had a falling out" and Lewis is like "that's crazy man, how would we stop being friends? You want some frosties?"

Immediate Spanish speaker clique between Fernando, Carlos, Checo, and Franco. They are shook that THE Fernando Alonso wants to be besties with them (especially Carlos since Fernando is his hero).

KMag and Hulk are probably friends since this is pre Suck My Balls and they're friends now so, their energies align I guess.

Being 14 year olds who find out they're rich and famous, they all want to escape into the real world and take joyrides in the expensive cars they own/ drink alcohol/ see strippers/ buy crazy stuff and their team staff is like OH NO WE CAN'T LET THEM ESCAPE (Thus ensues comedy gold of the team staff chasing kids who have the bodies of professional athletes around the track and trying to contain them)

If in Singapore, Yuki and Zhou manage to escape because they are 2 East Asians wearing designer and F1 merch and they blend in with the fans. (As a disguise, they swap team shirts and put on surgical masks and people are like "Is that Zhou Guanyu?" "Nah why would Zhou be wearing a Yuki shirt?") Word gets out in the drivers whatsapp that they escaped and they immediately get bombarded with requests for what to buy for the rest of the paddock. They cannot rly understand each other but Zhou can get around Sgp pretty easily bc a lot of people there speak Mandarin. He has to stop Yuki from breaking at least five Singaporean laws. They stuff themselves at hawker stands and have a great field trip but then get recognized and have to make an emergency getaway on a stolen electric scooter. They do get Lewis his Frosties.

Lewis doesn't know he's a vegan and almost ruins his reputation by being spotted by paparazzi eating Frosties with non vegan milk. Also gives himself a nasty stomachache.

Despite being told not to tell other people about the mass amnesia, Max and Lance both call their dads. Lawrence is like "My poor son! I will get the experts to look into this right away!" Jos is like "idc if you don't remember how to drive the car, you're gonna do it or I'll disown you." Daniel and Lando grab the phone and tell Jos he's a meanie and also was a shit F1 driver, then hang up.

George finds chewing gum at the bottom of someone's bag and starts spiraling, convinced that the Singaporean police are going to arrest and execute them all for possessing illegal items.

Lord of the Flies scenario where George and Oscar are trying to organize everyone to make sure they don't accidentally hurt themselves, whereas Lando, Fernando, KMag, Daniel, and a few others are just trying to have a good time and cause chaos. Bottas and Alex and a third group are just like quietly messing around in the back.

They come to a truce in order to organize a GPDA strike because they have been banned from leaving the track until they regain their memories. They barricade themselves in someone's garage and have a sleepover on the floor with lots of candy and games. Lewis finds a guitar and plays Wonderwall.

They wake up the next day extremely confused (but remembering everything) and race as normal LOL

[scarrletmoon]

Do you have any Ed and Stede fic you could recommend to me? I love your fics so I think I'd like your recommendations :)

i'm so flattered 😭i barely read anything to begin with for multiple reasons (nothing to do with quality -- i've been in a lot of fandoms and this one BY FAR consistently has the most incredible fic) but uuuuhhhh let's go through my most recent bookmarks!

in case you don't want to scroll through all the rambles (oh and feel free to tag anyone if they're on tumblr, i just linked their ao3 pages):

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede (series) by Panda_Birds (T)

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

An Uncharted Level of Waves by Living_City (E)

something about this trans ed fic just got me. something about ed talking about his body with someone he trusts? something about how you can tell how deeply stede adores ed even when it's not from his perspective? also uuummm this has coming untouched, so. i'm a simple man,

politely menacing by daydreamcrash (E)

i'm so stupidly picky when it comes to stede characterization, but i took a chance bc i saw "what if......stede in the cat collar" and you know what. it was fuckin great. i love when stede gets to be the brat. i love seeing ed and stede trust each other. i like when ed gets to dom on his own terms. i love them being disgustingly in love

charted by darcylindbergh (E)

i assume im like, the last person to read this but it's one of those fics that just pops into my head out of nowhere sometimes and i just 🫠 as i said before, im a simple man and i'm a sucker for play that involves one of them trying to distract the other. sexually. anyway it's hot AND shows off how intelligent and skilled ed is. win-win

serial blusher by daydreamcrash (T)

(see sometimes i read stuff that isn't filth!) this fic is SO FUCKIN FUNNY. i just love the fact that ed's spent so long trying to meet someone, but of course the guy he instantly falls head over heels for is the one archie never even considered. it's "stede? STEDE stede?" manifested into a hilarious 5k fic. i love it

CringeFail Mob Boss Stede by Panda_Birds (T)

just gonna rec this entire series bc it's so FUCKING funny. i haven't read Performance Review but i trust sowmz' humor so much that i'm going to rec it sight unseen. they just manage to capture stede's terrible but kind-hearted boss energy without going too far into clueless michael scott territory. also ed is completely smitten and everyone is confused by it. it's great

but that's none of my business by chaotic_neutral_knitter (T)

i've probably hyped this fic too many times but idc. it's 1.5k of lucius losing his mind bc he's CONVINCED ed and stede have something going on but NO ONE will believe him (except exactly who you'd expect)

Telescope by Jimsnose (E)

another one of my always-recs. pretty sure jimsnose has left the fandom at this point but that doesn't change the fact that Telescope is incredible and i hope one day i write something even half as good as this. one thing i love about their writing is how you don't so much read it as let it HAPPEN to you. and sometimes i remember parts of this fic like glimpses through that telescope and it's just so incredibly vivid. you can feel the tension so well between ed and stede here, how much they care for each other, how that breaks them, how it brings them together. and jimsnose so good at what they do that i happily read their Ted Lasso fic. i've never watched Ted Lasso. idk if i ever will. idk what i was doing over there, reading it. but the fics are fuckin banger

Untitled by oatmilktruther (T)

first of all, read anything abs writes on sight, like go sub to them right now if you haven't already (i'm biased but im RIGHT). im picking kind of a weird one but you try and get the image of leather and stede and tongue-tied ed out of your head. right. exactly.

[lovelyflora21]

I hate everyone else in the world (but you)

Summary: Drunk and in pain, Leon had an affinity for saying things he might not have meant to. Twice he did so. One was able to offer solace and comfort, the other the opposite. 

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Tags: TW! Alcohol abuse, slight mentions of PTSD, depression. Angst. Hurt. 

A/n: Hello! So this is my first attempt at writing again after such a long ass hiatus and break! This is also my very first (and hopefully not the last) attempt on writing a fic for Leon lol, this one’s gonna be a bit angsty! I wrote this with Vendetta!Leon and DI!Leon in mind, inspired by that one TikTok audio from Euphoria’s Rue and Jules’ scene and her infamous quote with TV Girl’s Not Allowed, playing in the background. 

Hopefully you guys will like this one as much as I like writing it! Enjoy!

Wc: 1.5k

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

Was what Leon had drunkenly told her once. So lost in his drunken stupor that he’d blurted out those words in a brief moment of vulnerability and honesty. He might’ve as well said those three words instead. But it was the truth, and Leon S Kennedy was no liar. He was never good with lies anyways, why try now? And in response, she simply gave him that God-forsaken half smile of hers. Leon remembered vividly, despite being shit-faced drunk, how she simply shook her head then helped him off the couch to clean up. 

I know. She whispered, more like to herself than to him. Then everything else after that was a blur. 

It was sort of a routine. After that particular nightmare of a mission, Leon would drown himself in endless bottles of Jack Daniels or whatever alcoholic beverage he could lay his hands on. He was pretty much banned from the local bar he’d frequented so often, and no for the record, it wasn’t because he’d start up unnecessary shit–no. It was because of how much he’d drunk; to the point that the bartenders and keepers made it a point that they were concerned with the amount of alcohol he’d swallow in one seating. 

Concerned. Leon finds it rather funny and ironic, in a way that; bars made money from selling alcohol to anyone who would be drinking them and yet here he was, getting banned all because they were concerned with him? He was a regular, he didn’t mind burning his money on alcohol! They should have been grateful! He was a regular, a paying one at that and he doesn’t start up shit! They were making money! And yet, he got banned anyway. 

In reality, concerned was an understatement…

So he figured, what the hell right? He’s just gonna find an alternative, buy some from the local bodega or some shit and get shit-faced drunk in the comforts of his somber and dark, shitty apartment. 

The apartment was fine before all this, decorated it minimalistically so he didn’t have too much stuff piling up and it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle for him to look after; but after the–after it happened, he just didn’t care enough to look after the damn place. Hell, he barely looked after himself. Leon was barely even showering. He’d shower once every two or three days, and didn't even care at all if people were giving him weird and funny looks for how disheveled he looked. Leon used to be pretty active and social, he would go for a light jog every morning before work or in the evenings after work, then shower and have dinner or maybe go on dates with her. But now? Now, his routine consisted of waking up in the middle of the day, eat whatever leftover was in the fridge, go back to sleep, wake up again then get so drunk he could barely remember anything then pass out on the couch then wake up with the worst hangover and repeat the same damned thing all over again. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. 

It wasn’t helping him at all that the DSO was putting him on a temporary break too. He’d honestly much prefer to be sitting on his desk working on reports than rotting and wasting away like this. 

But then she caught wind of this. This revelation. That the great, brave and strong Leon S Kennedy; the renowned agent that helped rescue the President’s Daughter and formed the DSO, has now become lessened to that of a drunk alcoholic. So jaded and bitter with the loss of his–no, no, he became jaded after, after…after it happened. That he resorted to alcohol rather than face his issues head on. Rather than see a shrink and work on it.

So the first time she came back around, it wasn’t easy. To have her, his muse, his flower, the only innocent and untouched being in his life, sees him this messed up and broken. He lashed out at her at first, then he broke down. For the first time. For the first time in what felt like forever, he was finally able to cry. 

It’s okay, cry it out, let it all out. I’m here. Nothing’s gonna hurt you. I’m not letting you go. I got you. 

Then he looked into her eyes and said it. 

I hate everyone else in the world but you…

And the rest was history.

Then it was another new routine for him. She was always there, looking after him…looking after the place. Made sure he was eating, made sure he’d get cleaned up, made sure he was sleeping properly. 

But he still couldn’t get over his drinking problems. Not anytime soon it seems…

Other people would have already abandoned him by now. Said it was all in vain, said he’d destroy her before he could ever get better. But she, she never gave up on him. 

Until one night…

Leon had promised her, for a day, he wouldn’t touch anything that has alcohol in it and he’d finally go to therapy. It was paid and provided for by the DSO, as they should be. But he didn’t…

He never attended that one session (or the sessions before and after, she should’ve known better), instead that afternoon he went to the nearest bodega and got himself bottles of Jack Daniels. Then he went back home and got shit-faced drunk. Again. Like always. 

And when she came over later in the evening, after she got off work; she was furious. More disappointed than furious, really. To find out that he didn’t go to therapy and he was drunk.

Then it was some back and forth arguing and Leon said some things he didn’t mean to. 

Typical of a drunk, how typical of Leon.

See, the thing is, she was one to believe that; whatever came out from someone’s mouth whenever they were drunk meant that it was the raw and most unfiltered truth they wish they could’ve said out loud sober.

So when Leon said, “What is this now, you think you could nurse me back to the old Leon?! You thought out of all the people in this whole goddamn world, you could be the one to save me from being, from being this?! I tell you what sweetheart, you never cared about me, what you do have is a savior complex!” 

It had been even uncharacteristic of Leon to say those things. And out of all the people he knew, towards her, too. 

Cruel would be an understatement. 

Leon wished he had stopped at that. Wished he had stopped and apologized to her after, but nope. He didn’t. Instead, when he saw her tear-filled eyes and her pursed lips, he went and sprinkle some salt on her wound. 

“What now, you gonna cry and run away? Gonna cut me off too like how you cut off your other friends and exes? Right, you do. Because that’s what you always do! Run away and cut off everyone whoever said an ounce of truth to you, not wronged you–no, the truth!”

Then there was silence, save for his hard and heavy breathing that filled the space. 

Leon remembers and forgets a lot of things. This is one that he’d hate to remember and unable to forget.

He remembered the way she stepped back, looked into his eyes and said it. 

I hate you. 

Then she disappeared from his apartment and disappeared from his life as well, after making it clear that she was done.

He tried reaching out to her, that very same night. Then the days that followed after, the weeks after. After Colorado. After New York. 

She disappeared. Just like that. 

So Leon gave up on looking for her. 

And after a year, he thought he’d already forgotten about her completely. Thought he’d moved on.

He thought, after going to therapy, talking to his friends more and avoiding alcohol as much as possible; he’d finally move past that night. Move past her.

But it seemed he was wrong. 

So when Leon was strolling down the streets of San Francisco during his free time, before his supposed mission–and he thought he’d heard a familiar voice, he couldn’t help but to look towards the source of that angelic voice. Could it be…?

And there she was. Gorgeous as always. Beautiful and bright, warm like the morning’s first ray of sunshine. A basket of flowers and groceries hung on her elbow. 

So she did move away. That’d explain a lot. 

Leon’s body had a mind of its own, approaching her before he could even process everything. 

Hey there.

And suddenly everything came flooding back to him.

I hate everyone else in the world but you

But you, you who I’ve hurt so much more than anyone else in the world. 

You who didn’t deserve the pain I had inflicted upon you. It was unfair. And I am so so so sorry. Wish I could take it all back. You didn’t deserve it. And then there was silence between him and her. Two birds, once of the same feather; and now? Now on opposite ends.

[megamindsecretlair]

WIP Tuesday

Buckle up babes, it's going to be a long post!

I come before you humble, hat in hand. I know I been wilding ya'll. I know there's a lot of fics I need to update and get back to. I haven't forgotten! And since there are...so many new people thanks to my Terry fics, what a great time to call myself out chuz ya'll too nice to do so! I saw @nerdieforpedro do this a few weeks ago? Forgive me for not tagging the person you got it from, but I am tiredt, chilleee.

Current focus: Terry got my whole heart, ya'll. Every fic I read of him, I just want to go hop in the booth myself and get to writing. Ya'll inspire me every damn day, it's magical. There is a filthy, disgusting, mean, despicable fic I wanna write with him. But alas, he is not the only one I write for.

Girl, there's how many series????? Listen, the muse wants what it wants. 11 series in total. Chillee, why I do dissssss. Some are closer to finishing than others. So let's count them out (click the links to learn more):

Be My Little Darling - Loki series | It Started With a Whisper - Sam Wilson series | Midnight Sin - Vampire Tyrone series | Blackbird - Mob Boss Fontaine | Camp Wanderlust - Franklin Saint series | What You Deserve - Homewrecker Stunna | Runaway Lover - Professor Stunna | If I Took You Home - Kevin Atwater | Kill Her Softly - Zyair Malloy | A Taste of the Divine - Yakuza Sukuna | We Are the Night - Qimir

Frenn, that's a lot, do you sleep? Are you okay? Blink twice if you need help. I'm promise I'm good ya'll, I just love writing and I love interacting with ya'll. You have NO idea how much each and every single one of ya'll mean to me. I love the support, I love the comments, I love the reblogs. I'm trying not to disappoint folks, I was on a schedule and well, life happened. I can course correct, I promise. Just gon' take me a little minute. Let me close the smaller series first!

Okay, surely that's it right, frenn? Ahh no, because there's also the asks that have been piling up. Per my pinned post, you know that I have a scatterbrain. Some asks I deleted because they're too similar to what I've done before. Some I'm still trying to picture before I start writing. But the ones I've kept? At last tally it is...33. Some are similar and I'm going to combine them, but yeahhhhh. This isn't a callout post, keep sending those requests in! Just know it's gonna take me a smoooooooth minute. Also, welcome new people, welcome! But not everything needs a part two, I promise. If I write "The End" at the bottom, that truly means the end. No part 2 planned, ain't trynna write a part two. I want to move on sometimes. I love you, but I'll be writing until I'm gray if everything got a part 2. And I wanna get paid for my writing. Which brings me tooo...

Umm, umm, what's this I hear about a book??? Yes! I am actually writing a book based on an ask I received. It was a sweet ask about what kind of story would go with "Handwritten Letter". I said it gave friends to lovers, she fell first, he fell harder type of vibes. It has morphed into dark academia about a shy girl just trying to come into her own. It's a combo of and a love letter about girls like me, girls like you, each and every person who identifies as a Soft Black Girl. And I already have *so* many ideas about other books I want to do. There will be one based on the Mr. Black series I wrote. There will also be a vampire one! I just can't decide yet which will be the second book I put out. I'm leaning towards vampire because Terry is HEAVY on the brain ya'll. And he'd make a sexy vamp. But anywhooo...

I say all this to say that I'm not a machine. I'm not that quick despite appearances. I may not seem like I have any chill, but I've been fantasizing and turning over these fics in my head for days or weeks before I sit down to write. And I'm not saying to stop. Your support is exactly why I feel good enough about my writing to sit and write an entire book! I want to be a full time author. I want to share my ideas with the world. I'm just slow lmfaoooooo.

In the mean time, I hope you're hitting up all these amazing writers on here. I hope you're commenting and reblogging and showing love on here. I will keep saying it. This site will DIE and these BLACK writers will LEAVE if people keep stealing, not commenting, not reblogging, asking for part 2s and never showing love. Fandom is a community, not a pillar. No one know it's you behind that avatar, go crazy! Go nuts. Show nuts. whatever.

Love, love, love you all. If you read this far, drop something funny in the comments. Or go unhinged in my asks about Terry. Don't get me started about that man, but go awff about him because that's my baby favaaa.

no pressure tags: @chaos-4baby @j0kers-light @umber-cinders @harmshake @planetblaque @babybratzmaraj @soft-persephone

[precious-little-scoundrel]

I stalk the Benny and Lu tag regularly and I’m sooo glad to see that I’m not the only one. The absurd amount of notes on some of those asks makes me so happy, we are all in the trenches for them 😭

My little half hearted vibe testing blurbs are at like in the 120’s?! And so many others have tons as well! It’s craaaaaaazy it makes me so excited!!

Benny is sorta an obscure heartthrob in the fandom, he’s had his ole faithfuls, but just enough I wasn’t sure it would go over well. But what a lovely surprise!

I have loads more of their asks, I’m gonna save them and we will have an evening (with the inbox open for it) at some point soon. Gonna publish this new fic first and get that out there.

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (2/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you��ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

Sorry I am so late with this update. I underestimated how demanding real life was gonna be now that we are back in full swing with school. I'll do my best to stay on track going forward!

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  / Prologue

Chapter One

Two and Half Years Later…

“What have we got?”

Killian approached the scene with his partner, Robin. Their mate and uniformed officer, Will, brought them up to speed, keeping his voice low as the men conversed on the walkway that led to the grand house towering before them.

“Grace Hatter. Eight years old. Never made it to school this morning,” Will informed them, reading over his notes. “Father says she left the house at a quarter to eight like usual. An hour later he got the call from the school telling him she was absent.”

“Do we know if he’s clean?” Killian asked, assessing the distraught man who was being questioned by other officers.

“No,” Will replied. “Dad’s name is Jefferson Hatter. We're looking into him.”

“Mom?”

“Deceased.”

“Okay. Thanks, mate. We’ll go have a talk with him.”

Killian and Robin continued up the walkway. When the father caught sight of them, he rushed down the front steps to meet them halfway.

“Are you the detectives?”

“Yes, sir,” Robin responded. “Detectives Locksley and Jones. Can you tell us more about your daughter? When you last her? What she was wearing?”

“Yeah, um…” The man took a moment to try and compose himself. His hand shook as he brought it up to run down his face. A shuddering breath filled his lungs and a sob caught in the back of his throat. “She uh, she left here about 7:45. She’s wearing purple leggings and an oversized, purple top that has a white rabbit on the front of it. She also had on a red hoodie and her backpack is pink and purple with her name on it.”

“Does she often walk by herself to school?”

The man, Jefferson, nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Ever since the beginning of the school year. She wanted… She wanted to be a big girl this year.” He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the freshly fallen tears drops from his face. “I was reluctant, but the school isn’t far and normally she walks with another little girl and her brother down the block.”

“But not today?” Killian inquired.

“No,” Jefferson answered. “Ava and her brother are both out sick this week. Grace walked alone yesterday, so I didn’t see an issue with her walking alone again today.” His face reddened, the tears now cascading down his cheeks as he pleaded, “Please. You have to find my little girl, please!”

“We’re going to do everything we can,” Robin promised him, digging a card from his pocket. “An officer is going to stay with you as we canvas the neighborhood, but if you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Th-Thank you, detectives,” Jefferson said, taking the card then following one of the officers back to the house.

“So, what do you think?” Robin said under his breath as they turned back towards the street and surveyed their surroundings.

“If he’s involved then he’s an excellent actor,” Killian replied. “I think it more likely she was grabbed on her way to school. The question is… where?”

The street was lined with houses on one side, facing a wooded park area. The little girl would have made her way to the end of the block then turned to go around the woods. The school was located on the other side, about seven blocks away.

“We’ve spoken with all the neighbors who are home along the route she would have taken,” Will said, joining the detectives. “No one saw anything.”

“Maybe she didn’t take the usual route,” Killian said, jutting his chin towards the woods. “Maybe she took a shortcut.”

“Dad was very specific about the route,” Will told him. “He said Grace wasn’t allowed to cut through the woods.”

“Yeah, and we all know you did everything you were told when you were a kid,” Robin quipped, slapping Will on the back before heading towards the woods.

The three of them followed the worn path, carved out of the foliage by those who had used the woods as a shortcut over the years. Although focused on the task before him, Killian could not help but acknowledge how fortunate he was to do this job with his two best mates at his side.

It had been a series of unfortunate events that had led them here. Two and half years ago, he and Robin had been uniformed officers at different precincts and Will, after washing out of the academy years before, owned a local bar. After being attacked and having his life, once again, turned upside down, Killian had spiraled a bit. Neglectful of his duty and spending too much time at Will’s bar had made him a less than stellar candidate for detective, despite his high scores on the exam. However, everything changed once more the night Will’s bar went up in flames.

Though it had been deemed arson, they still weren’t sure how it had happened. The explosion and fire claimed the lives of more than a dozen officers and detectives from both Storybrooke and Glowerhaven. In the aftermath, personnel had been reshuffled, reassigned, and reevaluated, giving Killian a second chance at a detective slot and transferring Robin to the Storybrooke precinct. Will, determined to bring the perpetrator to justice, had reapplied to the academy and finished top of his class before being assigned to the Storybrooke PD.

Although the arson case had gone cold, Killian and Robin, with an assist from their favorite uniformed patrolman, had managed to garner the highest number of closed cases of any rookie or veteran detectives within the city or its outlying suburbs. Robin often joked that the reason the three of them were so good at this job was because in another life they would have been criminals themselves - and therefore knew how their perps thought - dubbing themselves the pirate, the bandit, and the thief.

Of course, he had no idea that Killian possessed abilities beyond those of a normal human detective which gave him an advantage. Abilities he was currently applying in the hopes of bringing this little girl home safely.

When the trail forked, the trio branched off in separate directions. Once out of sight from his mates, Killian crouched down and closed his eyes, homing in on the sounds around him as he inhaled deeply. Over the years he’d made peace with his wolf side. It wasn’t always easy to keep the wesen reined in, or explain away how he’d been able to accomplish some of the things his supernatural abilities allowed him to do, but as time went on he found ways to balance his human and wesen side.

Not able to pick up anything out of the ordinary, Killian resumed his search further up the path. A moment later, Robin’s voice called out.

“I’ve got something!”

Killian rushed towards Robin’s voice, arriving alongside an out of breath Will. Both men were too focused on the pink and purple backpack laying among the ferns to notice Killian’s lack of exertion.

“Grace Hatter.” Will read the name where it had been monogrammed in bright pink, confirming it belonged to their missing girl. “She must have been grabbed somewhere in this area.”

“Careful where you step,” Killian reminded them. “Will, call it in and inform the others that we have a crime scene in Wonderland Woods Park across from the victim’s house.”

Will stepped away to radio it in, leaving the detectives to peruse the area.

“Killian, we got boot prints here. They look fresh.”

Killian noted the direction of the prints and commented, “He took her this way.” Setting off down the path, he shouted over his shoulder, “Stay with Will until CSU arrives. I’ll see where the prints lead.”

Once out of sight, Killian crouched down again and took in a deep breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention and a primal growl rumbled in the center of his chest. He could tell the scent was wesen, although he wasn’t sure what species. There was something vaguely familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Never before, since his transition, had he ever wished for the moon to be in its full cycle. If it were, then his sense of smell would be stronger. He’d be able to discern the little girl’s scent better, as well as her abductor’s, and he’d be able to tell which direction the two had gone once they’d reached the road on the other side of the woods.

Cursing under his breath, Killian made his way back to Robin and Will. The Crime Scene Unit had already arrived and the area was being cordoned off so they could work making casts of the boot prints. Killian eyed Grace’s backpack as it was being bagged and tagged so it could be processed for fingerprints. He wished he’d gotten a chance to scent it, but the K-9 unit was already seeing to the task.

“There isn’t much more we can do here,” Robin told him. “Will and the other officers will follow up on the neighbors they didn’t get a chance to speak with earlier. Maybe one of their security cameras will have caught them coming out of the park.”

“Aye,” Killian said with a resigned sigh.

Clapping Killian on the back, Robin suggested, “Let’s go get some lunch. By the time we’re done, more evidence will have been collected and processed, then we can focus on whatever they found.”

“I suppose I could eat,” Killian relented. Robin was right. There was nothing more they could do that the other officers didn’t already have handled. They’d need their strength and their wits about them for the long afternoon and evening ahead. “Where did you have in mind?”

“How about Aesop’s?”

Killian cocked a brow his partner’s way. “Aesop’s? A bit swanky for lunch isn’t it?”

Robin shrugged. “I hear they have a great burger menu.”

“Mhmm,” Killian hummed. Something in Robin’s demeanor had him dubious as to whether that was the real reason. “I suppose we could check it out,” he replied with a shrug of his own, followed by a wolfish grin. “So long as you’re buying.”

~/~

“So that’s the real reason you wanted to come here,” Killian ribbed in a sing-song tone. “The lovely and elusive Miss Mills.”

Robin’s cheeks flamed pink behind the bun of his burger as he took as long as he possibly could to bite off then chew a mouthful.

“You know this constitutes stalking, right? Why not just ask her out?”

Robin swallowed and chased the bite with a sip of water, once again taking his time running his napkin over his mouth before placing it back in his lap.

“You’re hopeless,” Killian exasperated, getting up from his seat. He shot a wink over his shoulder to his mortified partner as he approached the nearby table, teeming with lawyers in their power suits. “Miss Mills?” he said in a feigned tone of surprise.

“Detective Jones,” she said in a friendly yet reserved greeting. “Funny running into you here?”

“Aye,” he said. “The lunch burger menu was recommended to Robin and me, so we thought we’d give it a go.” He gestured back towards the table Robin was metaphorically trying to hide beneath. Miss Mills - Regina - gave him a wave which he awkwardly reciprocated. “I won’t keep you,” Killian continued. “I was on my way to the facilities when I spotted you and just wanted to say hello. Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you, detective. A pleasure seeing you,” she replied, though her attention was not set on him but rather still subtly fixated on his partner.

When Killian exited the lavatory hall on his way back to the table, he slowed his steps and his lips twitched up in a smile. Robin and Regina were standing at the table conversing as the prosecutor’s colleagues were filing past, on their way out the door. Regina slipped Robin her card, her painted lip caught between her teeth, and he accepted it with a full, bright smile. Killian chuckled to himself, eager to take the mickey out of his friend, when something in Regina’s countenance shifted.

She’d turned towards the door, prepared to follow her colleagues, when her entire body went rigid. Something rippled through her expression and Killian was taken aback by what he saw.

She woged.

Regina Mills was… a hexenbeist?

No. He had to be seeing things. She couldn’t have woged. If she had, the entire restaurant would be in an uproar, especially Robin. There’s no way anyone would have missed the gruesome sight of a hexenbeist revealing her true form. Unless…

No. That wasn’t a possibility either. The full moon wasn’t in cycle yet, so there was no way he could have witnessed a demi-woge. Could he?

Regina’s features returned to normal, but her posture was still stiff and on guard. He followed her eyes to try and determine what had prompted such a response and was stunned to see another woged hexenbeist casually standing by the hostess stand. She had flaming red hair and was dressed in a tight, green dress. When her human face presented itself once more, she wore a smug, slightly challenging smirk.

Finally collecting herself, Regina marched past the woman without a word or backward glance, but the red-haired witch watched her all the way out the door and down the block.

“Did you see that?”

Robin’s question shook Killian from his shock, but a fresh, confused panic spiked within him. “See what?”

“The text,” Robin said, lifting his phone for Killian to see. “We’ve got a body.”

“A body?” Killian parroted, attempting to get his racing heart under control while processing what his partner said.

He didn’t see it, then. Didn’t see them change. Then why did I?

“Not Grace Hatter?” Killian’s heart dropped a little as his mind finally caught up.

“No,” Robin assured him. “Not the missing girl, but the captain wants us to take point on this one, too.” He beckoned Killian to follow him through the tables towards the exit. “I’ve already settled the bill. Will’s waiting for us at the scene.”

Before heading out the door, Killian scanned the restaurant for the red-headed hexenbeist, but saw no sign of her. He tried to shake off the unnerving feeling her and Regina’s woge had elicited in him. The mystery of why he had been able to see it at all would have to wait. He had more pressing issues to concern himself with.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian heard Will ask under his breath. “Looks more like an animal attack?”

For the second time that day, Killian’s hackles rose. The scene before him was familiar. Too familiar. He could remember, as though it were yesterday, making the same inquiry to the detectives working a similar scene. A scene that had led to Killian being attacked and transformed. A scene that had been declared an animal attack after the DNA had come back as inconclusive. A scene where no other evidence had been left behind except…

“We got a boot print!”

Killian’s entire body reacted in a ripple of goose bumps and a sharp inhale confirmed the truth as a familiar scent penetrated his sinuses.

It’s him! He’s back. The blutbad who attacked me. The blutbad who made me. He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s killed again and… HE’S TAKEN GRACE HATTER!

“Oi! Kill, er… detective. You alright?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, mate.”

Killian’s Apple apple bobbed painfully. “We need to go see the Captain. Now.”

It was a quick ride back to the precinct, though Killian’s silent stewing had probably made it feel longer to his partner. Robin knew him well enough to not pepper him with questions when he was like this, allowing him space to get his thoughts together. It didn’t mean his mate didn’t side-eye him with furtive glances the entire way back to the station, though.

“Captain Gold, do you have a minute?” Killian asked at the open doorway of their captain’s office.

“For my two best detectives? Of course,” Captain Gold said, gesturing them forward. “How’s the investigation going into the missing girl? Or is this about the body we found? A jogger who was a student at the local university?”

“Actually,” Killian hedged, still unsure how he was going to convince his captain and his partner of what he knew to be fact. “It may be about both.”

“Go on.”

Killian and Robin took a seat in front of the captain’s desk. Leaning forward, Killian began to fill them in on what he’d pieced together.

“A little over two years ago, there was a hiker who was attacked in a similar fashion to how we found the jogger today.”

“I remember,” Gold said, nodding his head. “That was ruled an animal attack, wasn’t it?”

“Aye,” Killian said. “The DNA was inconclusive, but that wasn’t the only evidence left at the scene.” Flicking his eyes towards Robin, he said, “There was a boot print. Just like the one at the scene today. And that’s not all…” Sitting back, Killian wiped his hand down his face and let go a heavy breath. “The same day the hiker was attacked and killed, a little girl went missing in Glowerhaven.” Robin’s eyes widened and Killian knew he didn’t need reminding, but the Captain still needed to know. “I know because Robin helped work that case and we were mates back then.” Setting his attention back on his captain, Killian continued. “Look. I’m not saying all these cases are connected, but we did find boot prints where we suspect Grace Hatter was abducted, and it all feels a little suspect to just be coincidence.”

Captain Gold tented his fingers in front of him, and his eyes narrowed at Killian. “I’m inclined to agree,” he said, after a few agonizing seconds. “It’s all too coincidental to not look into.” His eyes shifted to Robin. “Locksley, reach out to Glowerhaven and see if you can get a copy of the missing girls file from two years ago. Check it for any similarities to the Grace Hatter case. Jones,” he continued, focusing his attention back on Killian. “Follow-up on the boot print. See if the one from the hiker’s scene matches the jogger’s, then compare it to the ones we found at the abduction site.” With a dismissing nod, he added, “Keep me informed.”

“Yes, Captain,” the two detectives replied on their way out of Gold’s office.

“How did you put all of that together?” Robin asked. “Remembering that girl from more than two years ago who went missing the same day a hiker was mauled? I don’t think I would have put that together.”

“I don’t know,” Killian deflected. “Something about that night just… stuck with me, I guess.”

“Well, good pick up,” Robin said, clapping him on the back. “I’m gonna call GPD, then head over to collect those files. Check in later?”

“Aye,” Killian told him. “Later.”

It took Killian less time to confirm the boot prints were a match at all three scenes than it did for Robin to make it back with the files. Although it proved the crimes may be connected, the boots that matched the prints were a very common brand. It would be nearly impossible to find their suspect that way. Frustrated, Killian shot off a text to Robin and Will, letting them know he was gonna go out for some air.

There had to be a way of finding this monster.

Not that he hadn’t already tried. He’d gone back to the scene of the hiker’s mauling time and time again in search of any clues, hoping to discover the identity of the killer and the wesen who had turned him. Once the case had been cleared from homicide, investigators believing a wolf or mountain lion had caused the grizzly death, there had been little Killian could do inside the law. He’d been too preoccupied with the changes he was facing as a newly made wesen to pursue the blutbad on his own, and too worried about what his brother’s reaction might have been if he’d turned the case over to a Grimm. A Grimm who might have been able to detect such changes in his little brother.

Now, he couldn’t help but feel as though the jogger’s death and the missing girl were his fault. He should have told Liam about the rogue blutbad or gone after it himself.

He wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Digging his phone from his pocket, Killian dialed his brother’s number and held his breath as the call rang.

This is Liam Jones. I’m not available to take your call. Leave me a message.

“Liam. It’s Killian. Call me back. I’ve got a situation here that might require your expertise.”

Typical.

Killian’s phone vibrated in his hand. He glanced at the screen, expecting it to be Liam returning the call. Instead, the caller ID displayed Will’s name. Killian knew he’d been pouring over videos collected from neighborhood cameras, and he was eager to hear if he’d found anything that might help them locate the missing girl.

“Will? What you got?”

“Not much,” Will confessed over the phone. “I’ve checked all the cameras we collected from Tweedle Drive, the street the perp would have exited the woods from, and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Nothing?” Killian asked, defeated. “From the whole street?”

“Well, there’s a bit we don’t have footage of, but none of the videos show any car, truck, or van he may have used to move the girl. The only vehicle on the street at that time was the mail truck.”

“The mail truck?” Killian repeated, an idea coming to him. “Do me a favor. Find out who was working that route today and whether the postal service issues a certain type of boot for their employees' uniforms.”

“You think it was the postman?”

“It’s the only lead we’ve got,” he told Will. “If nothing else, the postal worker may have seen something. We should track them down as a potential witness.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Text me the name when you’ve got it.”

“Will do.”

A renewed rush of hope filled Killian as he made his way back to the precinct, but it was hindered by a fresh realization.

If the postal worker did turn out to be their suspect, then he wouldn’t be going up against their usual perp. He’d be going up against a wesen. A blutbad. And not just any blutbad… his sire. The one who had turned him. Would he know? Even without the full moon bringing out his wesen characteristics, would his sire be able to tell what he was?

Killian stopped short of the station door and did an about face. He needed to better prepare himself for this confrontation, and there was only one person who would be able to help him do so.

Searching his contacts as he made his way to his vehicle, he prayed this call would not go to voicemail.

His prayer was answered.

“Hello?”

“Swan. It’s me. I need your help.”

~/~

The fingers of her left hand drummed against the counter as the nails on her right were being assaulted by her teeth. Normally, Emma Swan would not allow a situation to unnerve her this way. Of course, it wasn’t the situation, not really, it was the man involved in the situation. The man who only came in once a month to pick up his wolfsbane tonic and share polite pleasantries with her or her brother, who assisted her at the shop. The man who had agreed to keep things between them strictly professional after the one time thing incident that had occurred early on in their association. The man who had kept to that promise… until now.

He wasn’t coming here for his tonic - the full moon was still over a week away. He wasn’t coming here for tea, or spices, or herbal remedies, or anything within the purview of her business. No. He was coming here because he needed help on a case. He was coming here because he had nowhere else to turn. He was coming here because he needed… her.

Although they had managed to keep one another at arm’s length these past two years, it hadn’t been that way at first. The month following his attack and introduction into the wesen world, they had texted and chatted numerous times, having built a rapport by the time of the next full moon.

A rapport that simmered with attraction and temptation.

Fortunately, they had both understood the seriousness underlying his stay with her during that first full moon. Setting aside the obvious chemistry between them, they focused instead on the alchemy of finding the right balance of wolfsbane. Everything had gone as expected… until it hadn’t.

“Emma, sweetie,” Granny said in her admonishing tone. “Are you trying to drive us both mad with your fidgeting?”

“Sorry, Granny,” Emma mumbled, removing her nail from her teeth and flattening both hands on the counter.

The elderly woman’s soft, weathered hand covered hers and she gave it a light, comforting squeeze. “What’s got you all riled up? You said he was a regular customer.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. “Is it because he’s a lycanthrope?” Patting Emma’s hand she assured, “I may not look it, but I can still hold my own. If he gets unruly, then--”

“No, it’s not like that,” Emma said, cutting the woman off in a rush, not wishing her to get the wrong impression. “Detective Jones is much more disciplined than lycanthropes are believed to be. He’s… he’s a good man.”

“Then why on earth are you worked up in such a state?” Granny inquired. “I can practically smell the anxiety and tension wafting off of you.”

Emma chewed her bottom lip, then silently cursed herself. Get a grip, Emma. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she straightened her posture and schooled her features. “It’s nothing.”

Granny let out a dubious hum. “Try again,” she said. “If you want me to help a lycanthrope - and a detective to boot - that has you all tied up in knots then you’re gonna have to give me a reason.”

Emma released a heavy sigh. She knew Granny was right. The woman was going out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give her the truth.

Given that she expected the detective to arrive at any moment, Emma quickly told Granny about her and Killian’s first meeting, and the subsequent month that had followed.

“Sounds like the two of you became fast friends,” Granny remarked, though Emma thought she could detect something slightly off in the woman’s tone. “What happened?”

Glancing at the door, Emma wasn’t sure if she was irritated or relieved that he hadn’t arrived yet. She’d never told anyone what had happened.

“He came to stay with me for the full moon, as planned,” she began.

“Here?” Granny asked, knowing the proprietor lived above her shop.

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “In my spare room. I wanted us to be close to the workshop so I could make adjustments on the fly.”

“What do you mean?”

Swallowing, Emma told Granny about the experiments they did, testing the effectiveness of the wolfsbane. “Things like, provoking his temper and trying to elicit responses that were more primal,” she hedged, with half a shrug of her shoulder, “to see how well he could keep control under such stimuli.”

“And?” Granny prompted. “How did he do?”

“He did great,” Emma said, then winced slightly as she added, “Until August showed up.”

A knowing huff left Granny. “Yeah. I’d imagine the presence of another male might have set him off a bit. Did your brother come away unscathed?”

“Barely,” Emma replied. “Killian didn’t know who August was and when he saw him hugging me he… woged.”

“As in… fully?”

“Yeah.”

“That must have been intense for all of you.”

“It was,” Emma sighed. “I had to use magic to diffuse the situation, but once cooler heads prevailed and I was able to introduce the two of them, I thought things were resolved.”

“Until?”

Emma’s mind flashed back to the morning after he’d woged and tried to attack August. The morning after the final full moon.

“So… you made it through your first full moon.”

“Aye. Thanks to you, love.”

“No need to thank me,” she told him. “I should be thanking you.”

“For?”

“For not ripping out my idiot brother’s throat,” she said in a tone mixed with amusement and annoyance. “I told him not to come here this weekend, but does he listen?”

Killian hummed, a sultry, toe-curling sound, and sauntered forward. “Perhaps gratitude is in order then?” he murmured, tapping his lips suggestively with a raised brow and challenging smirk.

“Yeah,” she said, a little breathlessly. “That’s what the thank you was for.”

Another sinful sound echoed past his lips as he pressed further into her personal space. “Is that all your brother’s life is worth to you?”

“Please,” she scoffed with an eye roll, trying, and failing, to get her heart rate under control, knowing full well he could probably hear its erratic beat. “You couldn’t handle it.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a feral and taunting manner. “Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

The crack of the t against his tongue reverberated through her, and without thought she grabbed the lapels of his jacket, fusing her mouth to his. It took him the briefest of seconds to respond, inhaling deeply before thoroughly devouring her.

It was hot. It was primal. It was all-consuming.

“That was…”

It was a big fucking mistake.

“A one time thing,” she murmured, pulling back from his chasing lips. “We… we can’t do this. I… I can’t do this.”

Releasing him, she took several steps back, unable to meet his eye or look upon his confused expression.

“Swan,” he panted, both of them still working to catch their breath. “Have I… Have I done something? I know attacking your brother was bad form. Please don’t think I’m unaware of the seriousness of that--”

“No, it’s… it’s not that,” she said. “I know you didn’t really have control over--”

“Then what?” he asked. “What’s changed?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma rocked back on her heels and said, “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to… I mean… this is all new to you and the last thing we both need is to complicate an already complex situation. I think it would be best if we… kept things professional between us.”

She braced herself for his response, expecting him to be angry. Expecting him to accuse her of leading him on, or taking advantage of him while he was vulnerable. She hadn’t expected him to run a hand through his hair while letting go a heavy sigh before agreeing with her.

“Aye,” he said, softly. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps now is not the best time to…” Flicking his too blue gaze up to hers, he gave her an earnest smile. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me, Swan. I think I’ll be able to manage on my own now, thanks to you.”

“You’ll still need the tonic each month,” she reminded him with a slight edge of panic in her voice. She didn’t mean for their association to end altogether. “And you can still call or text me if you have questions about--”

“Thank you,” he interjected, cutting her off before she could continue with her offer. “I’ll swing in for the tonic in a month’s time. I’ll be sure to let you know if there are any issues regarding the treatment.” Reaching up, he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear. “I, uh… I should go. I have a shift in an hour.”

“Right,” she said, letting him pass so he could collect his things from where he’d set them by the door. “See you next month?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said over his shoulder as he exited the shop. “See you then.”

“Only… I didn’t see him then,” she told Granny. “I chickened out and left the order with August.”

“Are you telling me,” Granny chastised, “that you haven’t seen that young man since--”

“No!” Emma replied, indignantly. “Of course I’ve seen him. We just… it’s been…” Another heavy sigh expelled out of her lungs. “After our… shared moment, I did avoid him for a bit and I know he struggled to cope with his transition, which made me feel worse about how we left things, but then there was this fire at his friend’s bar, and he made detective, and I don’t know… something about him changed. Things were less weird when he came in and we managed to carve out this nice, albeit superficial, relationship and yet--”

“The feelings are still there?”

Emma laughed a rather hysterical sounding laugh. “Uh, no. No feelings. I mean, obviously I care about him, as a person, but my current demeanor has nothing to do with feelings.”

“Oh? What does it have to do with, then?”

Emma didn’t get a chance to answer the woman’s smug question. The bell over the door chimed and the two women's heads snapped in its direction. In walked Killian Jones, as handsome and alluring as ever.

“Swan,” he greeted with a reverential nod. “Thank you for seeing me.”

“Of course,” she managed to choke out, her mouth having gone dry. Clearing her throat, she gestured towards Granny and introduced, “This is, uh, Granny Lucas. She runs the new B&B and diner up the street. I thought she might be able to help. Granny, this is Detective Jones.”

“Please,” he said, taking Granny’s hand and offering it a polite shake. “Killian will do.”

“A pleasure to meet you, detective,” Granny said, obviously sizing him up. “You’re not at all what I expected.”

“Meaning?”

Her gaze still assessing him, Granny quipped, “Most lycanthropes have me wanting to rip out their throats within seconds of meeting them, but you… you’re different.”

Killian’s brows shot up and his eyes flicked to Emma even as he continued to address Granny. “It seems you have me at a disadvantage,” he said a little too calmly. “You know about me, yet I have no idea why Swan brought you in on--”

“Granny’s a blutbad,” Emma blurted out, causing his brows to raise even higher as his head snapped back to the elderly woman. “I thought, seeing as you said your case had something to do with a blutbad, and that you needed more information about them, that you’d like to have your questions answered by someone who--”

“Not just any blutbad,” he said, cutting her off in a tone laced with menace and anger. “The blutbad.”

Emma gasped. “The one who turned you?”

“Aye.” His gaze turned dark and his features hardened. “He’s back and he’s killed again. He’s even taken a little girl captive.”

“That’s terrible,” Emma said, keeping herself from reaching out to offer him a hand of comfort. “When did you--”

“Today,” he told her, catching both women up on the case of the little girl and the jogger and how he’d connected them to the cases from over two years ago.

“We found matching boot prints at the crime scenes, but I also detected his scent at each location. I knew there was something familiar about it, but didn’t put it together until I smelled it mixed with the jogger’s blood. It brought back the olfactory memory of that night,” he said, momentarily getting lost in thought until he shook his head and added, “Of course… I can’t enter that into evidence. Fortunately, we have a lead, but I am wary of confronting him without knowing more.”

“More?” Granny said, her countenance a bit stand-offish and very imposing. “Like what?”

“Like,” Killian hedged, wetting his lips and taking a moment to assess Granny as she had him. “Whether I’ll be able to know him by scent even if he isn’t woged. Typically, I can’t detect wesen by scent whilst they’re in their human form or see them demi-woge unless it's the full moon, so I can only assume he was in full woge when he abducted the girl and attacked the jogger.”

Granny remained stoic and stone-faced, still unsure whether she should trust the gemacht wesen in front of her.

“Look,” Killian said with a tone of authority Emma imagined he employed often in his line of work. “I know there’s a code among wesen. This desire to look after one's own kind. But this guy is a killer. He’s killed two people that we know of and may, even now, be holding a little girl captive, so please. Help me find him. Help me find her.”

The reminder of the little girl softened Granny’s features. “If he’s done what you say he has, then he’s putting us all at risk.” Quickly, she flicked her gaze to Emma then back to him, conceding, “You’re right. There is a code among wesen, but it only extends so far. It sounds to me like this blutbad has gone feral, and his behavior is only going to escalate the longer he’s allowed to run wild.”

“Then… you’ll help me?”

Her posture relaxed further and she stepped up to the counter, bringing her closer to both Killian and Emma. Nodding, she said, “Yes, I’ll help you.”

A relieved breath fell from Emma’s lips and she took Granny’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you, Granny.”

Granny patted her hand then straightened her shoulders, getting down to business. “Now, I’m no expert on lycanthropes, but unless he fully woges, I don’t think you’ll be able to tell whether your suspect is the blutbad you’re looking for. If he is feral, then it wouldn’t take too much to provoke a response, but you’d have to be ready. Once he woges… he’ll be out for blood.”

Emma saw a shudder pass over the detective and she wondered if he was remembering his own experience with an uncontrolled woge.

“What about the girl?” Killian asked. “What motive would he have for taking her?”

Granny pursed her lips together then hesitantly replied. “If he’s feral, and attacked someone before, then he’s likely gotten a taste for human blood.” Killian and Emma both grimaced, sickened by the notion. “I’d wager he attacked and fed on that jogger first. Probably lost control. He knows he’ll be good for another week until the urge takes hold again, but by then it’ll be the full moon and it’ll be risky for him to be out and about. He probably took the girl in preparation of making a meal of her later. Taking her now gives him time to fatten her up.”

Emma thought she might be sick, and while she could see the shared disgust in Killian’s face, she also saw rage.

Granny caught his eye and imparted, “Having her will make him even more territorial and dangerous. So you’ll need to be ready for anything.”

“Will he, uh…” Killian began, haltingly. “Will he be able to discern who I am? What I am?”

“No,” Granny said, shaking her head. “I only made that quip about lycanthropes because Emma had already told me what you are… and I wanted to see how you’d react. You ought to know by now that wesen can only sense you during the full moon.”

“Aye, but he isn’t just any wesen,” Killian countered. “He’s my maker. Are you sure that won’t have an effect?”

“I don’t see why it would.”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, a reluctant question seemed to pause at the tip of his tongue.

“So there won’t be any… connection between us, then? No weird side effort of my turning that would make me sympathetic towards him or beholden in some way?”

Granny scoffed and cocked an amused brow at him. “Such sire bonds only exist in fiction.”

Killian’s head fell in relief and Emma could now detect how much tension he must have been carrying over that worry.

“Gemacht sometimes latch on to those who aid and guide them through their transition, and many times that is the wesen who turned them, so if you were to have bonded onto someone it would have been the person who was there for you at the beginning of and during your first change.”

Killian’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Emma’s. Her heart stuttered, then began pounding in her chest while her breath remained trapped in her lungs.

Granny’s gaze volleyed between the two of them, her heading tilting to one side as she quipped, “I suppose that explains the pent up tension I’ve been sensing between you two.” A warm smile lifted the corners of her mouth in response to their awkward reaction to the call out, and she assured them, “Don’t worry. The bond was temporary. I dare say enough time has passed that it would be gone altogether.” Her no nonsense demeanor returned as she focused her attention solely back on Killian and asked, “Anything else?”

Unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, Killian cleared his throat and said, “Just one last thing… Do you know who this blutbad might be?”

“Afraid not,” Granny told him with obvious regret in not being able to provide him a name. “I only relocated to Storybrooke a few months ago, and I find it best to avoid my kind as much as possible.” Her eyes fell down to the counter and on a bit of a grumble she added, “Bad things happen when we get into a pack. Especially when we see red.”

Killian’s eyes went wide.

“What?” Emma asked. “What is it?”

Killian locked eyes with her once more. “The little girl. Grace. She was last seen wearing a red hoodie. And the jogger and hiker both had on red jackets when their remains were found.”

“So, red provokes him?” Emma said, shaking her head in confusion. “But you weren’t wearing red when he attacked you. You were in uniform.”

“Which,” Granny interjected, “along with your natural demeanor of dominance and authority, he would have seen as a threat.”

“Which means he’ll likely view me as a threat when I confront him.”

“Most likely,” Granny warned. She glanced at the clock on the wall, and Emma knew she needed to get going so she could get back to the diner before the evening rush. “My advice,” she said, rounding the counter on her way out. “When you do confront him, do it alone. You don’t want him to feel trapped or backed into a corner, and if things go badly…”

“Aye,” Killian agreed. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Extending her hand, Granny offered him a sincere expression as he accepted the gesture. “Take care of yourself, Detective. I hope you can bring him to justice, but if not… bring him down any way you can.”

With that, she said a quick goodbye to Emma then exited the shop.

“Tough old bird,” Killian said in her wake, causing Emma to huff out an amused breath.

“Yeah. Granny is… something else.”

“Terrifying, I believe is the word you’re looking for,” he quipped with a light chuckle.

The two shared a laugh then stood awkwardly regarding one another for a long moment before Killian cleared his throat and said, “Um… thank you, Swan. I truly appreciate your help. I didn’t know who else to--”

“It was nothing,” Emma blurted out, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I mean… I was happy you called and that I could…”

Her words fell away and a wash of something akin to embarrassment or bashfulness swept over her. Her face was hot and her palms were starting to get slick.

You're being ridiculous, Emma. You’re not a silly school girl unsure of what to say to her crush. In fact… you don’t have a crush. This isn’t a crush. This is--

Killian’s phone chimed with a notification. Pulling it from his pocket, he checked the text and his grip tightened to the point that Emma feared he’d crack the screen.

“Killian? What is it?”

Slowly, Killian’s eyes lifted and met hers. The look that swirled in those blue depths made her breath hitch.

“We found him, Swan.” His voice was low, almost a growl, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand in a way that caused her to shiver.

“Who is he?” she asked in a whisper, only vaguely aware that she was rounding the counter to move towards him.

His eyes never left hers and once she was standing before him, they flickered between her own as he answered. “His name is Quinn Adair. His address puts him outside of the city. Out in the woods.”

Emma swallowed hard as an eruption of worry filled her chest. “Are you… You’re not going to go after him now are you?”

“I have to, Swan,” he insisted. “He has Grace, remember? I have to get to her before he…”

Emma nodded, knowing that time was of the essence for that poor girl who was probably terrified out of her mind.

“Just… be careful?” she said, wetting her lips, which caused his gaze to drop down briefly. “And, um… Call me later so I know how it… so I know the girl is okay… and you.”

“Aye,” he said, pocketing his phone. “I will. I promise.”

She expected him to rush out after that, but he continued to stand there. Conflicted.

“Swan, I know this isn’t the time, but… what Granny said earlier. About us. About the bond that might have been created between us. Was that… Was that the reason you pulled away? Did you suspect?”

“Killian, I…” Emma didn’t know what to say. It would certainly be a plausible reason to give him. One that was safer than the truth.

It would be a lie, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, waving off the question and sparing her from having to answer. “As Granny said, whatever was going on between us at the time, it’s likely run its course, so…”

“So?”

Stepping forward, Killian grabbed her hand and lightly held it in his. A rush of goosebumps swept up her arm when his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

“So… Maybe when this case is solved and things go back to relative normalcy, we could… try again?”

“Try again?” Emma parroted. A contradictory cocktail of hope, elation, dread, and panic collided within her as her good sense warred with her wants and desires.

“As friends, I mean,” he clarified, and in tamping down her own disappointment she missed the tone of it in his voice. “We had the start of something I was beginning to cherish and I miss…”

“Me, too,” she told him, turning her hand in his so she could give it a squeeze. Maybe it was reckless. She’d avoided close relationships all her life for a reason, and yet… “I’d love to start again. As friends.”

His smile took her breath away, but it was quickly schooled so he could focus on the dangerous task that lay before him.

“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked, filled with concern about him facing his maker alone. “I know Granny said not to make him feel trapped or backed into a corner, but I doubt he’d see me as a threat. And I doubt he’d be expecting a witch.”

His lip curled up on one side. “As much as I would love to see him go up against your magic, I won’t put you in harm's way like that.” When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, “Besides. I need to try and do this by the book. I’m a cop before anything else.”

“I get that,” Emma relented, begrudgingly. “But I’m going to keep my phone close by in case you get in over your head and change your mind.”

“In over my head?” he said in feigned offense. “I’ll have you know, love,” he murmured in a low timber, edging a bit closer to her. “If there is one thing I’m good at… it’s surviving.”

“Mhmm,” Emma hummed, meeting his taunting expression of challenge with one of her own. “Well, I’m going to insist that you stop by afterward in order to prove that to me.”

He smiled down at her, another message alerting from his phone, indicating it was past time for him to go.

“As you wish.”

Chapter Two - Coming Soon!

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

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@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

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[shannonsketches]

[cerise-on-top]

hello dere simon (am i getting ur name right???)

First of all, lemme just say, i absolutely adore ur works n writing style!! Ur so talented!! Keep being u :3

anyways,

Not sure if u write for her, but could u do Farah with a super, like, out-of-pocketly romantic, gender neutral s/o? (Keep it sfw, if u could :P)

Like,

'Hey, can you pass me a snack?'

"How am i supposed to pass you to yourself?"

'W -- .. what?'

"What?"

'Huh?'

"Yeah, sure. Here!" (throws bag of chips at her) "I love you!"

'..Huh??'

Hey there! And yeah, you are! I do go by Simon online :> And thank you, that's very kind of you :> I hope you can enjoy this as well, then! And don't worry, my blog is entirely SFW, I don't post smut ^^

Farah with an Overly Romantic S/O

I’m sorry, but I actually feel as though Farah wouldn’t get as flustered as you described her to be. She’s a confident woman, who knows her worth. I think she’d actually quip back at you:

Hey, can you pass me a snack?

How am I supposed to hand you to yourself, sweetheart?

Well, I would prefer something overly sweet right about now. Come here.

Farah knows her worth. Years of being talked down upon, years of being degraded and treated as something subhuman filled her with a certain kind of rage that I couldn’t even begin to describe if I tried. She’s not going to get shy around you. Sure, she can be extremely sweet towards you too, but she’s probably not going to get too flustered if you’re being overly romantic towards her. She’s suffered enough, don’t you think you deserve a soft epilogue, my love? She certainly believes so. In fact, she can be quite playful, so I think she might actually just try to fluster you instead, whether it be in Arabic or English doesn’t matter to her. Besides, if you get too cocky around her, she will push your buttons as well. Oh, you wanna kiss her so bad, don’t you? It actually makes you look stupid. Well, she’s going to take advantage of that. If you rile her up enough, despite not being the tallest, she will trap you against the wall and work her charm. In spite of everything that has happened to her, she hasn’t given up entirely on love yet. Sure, it seems unlikely to someone like her, but if there’s a will there’s a way. She will playfully tease you instead, doing everything she can to fluster you. She’s extremely grateful to have found someone, who loves her despite everything, though. Yes, she’s kinda messed up, she has to consider her every move carefully before she’s being branded a terrorist by the rest of the world. The fate of her people resides upon her shoulders, after all. But underneath all of that? She’s actually a really loving and sweet woman, who would love nothing more than to ride a motorcycle with you and gaze upon the stars of Urzikstan with you. If she’s being soft? Don’t tease her. She lets her walls around you for once, it’s more than anyone else ever gets to experience.

[skitskatdacat63]

Yes these have all already been posted, but 2023 Vettonso comp post for me because I'm going to have an emotional breakdown

[necrotic-nephilim]

If you want to be bothered. Maybe this for dick and Bruce???

i ALWAYS want to be bothered these are always the highlight of my day tbh you're a delight for letting me just yap <3

Dick. For the canon isn't real square I am Specifically talking about the Tom Taylor Nightwing run. Usually I ignore bad runs but given this one is ongoing (though about to end THANK GOD and get replaced by Dan Watters who i have high hopes for since i adored his Sword of Azrael (2022) run but i digress) so I counted it. Especially since it's so debated if that run is bad or not, for some reason. I'm a 90s Nightwing truther. I love Dick so dearly and tbh recently I've been more enamored with him the more I read his Discowing era, I didn't used to be as big of a Dick stan as I am these days.

Bruce. Honestly where do you even start with Bruce. I want to fist fight him and also patch him up. He got me into comics and superheroes as a whole but I roll my eyes whenever he shows up in a story. He's a bastard and usually not a good father but also complex and should be dissected under a magnifying glass. I love him dearly. He's also just the worst. I think that's why I love him. I'm always a fan of unabashedly Complicated Asshole Bruce who's generally not always the best person, particularly not to the Batfamily and that being the driving force of his relationships with them, especially in shipping.

And for bonus points, Tim. Because know above all else, I'm a Tim Drake kinnie /deg. He's been my number one for a decade and I've yet to uproot him from my brain. He's literally the Worst half the time and I love him for it. And the canon isn't real refers to Tim Drake: Robin because... that sure was a comic. And that's about all I can say about it. Pre-Flashpoint Tim I miss you so dearly. I think it's fun that I want to put him in a blender and drink the juice but also want Nothing Ever to happen to him.

[quirkle2]

i like him a normal amount and think about him a normal number of times daily

[vimbry]

"likes don't do anything" they do

"there's no algorithm" there is

"well nobody uses the for you tab" I do

"reblog all art and fics you see" there's no thought put into that. if this does work on people, then it's just pity engagement borne out of guilt rather than genuine interest, which is arguably worse than having none, because it's totally hollow.

[cerealmonster15]

ummm goober time sketchy doodle time w/heartslabyul.......... adeuce + lil babby crushies...

i think adeuce would enter that "no homo but tbh a lil homo" era of bestieship and be in mega denial before they realize their own feelings

also not necessarily ship exactly, but like i could see adeuce havin lil tiny crushes on treycay when they first enter the school fjdkshg like caters vibe matches ace + trey is that responsible upperclassman lookin after the freshies and i think juice would admire him [he admires like most of the older students tho it's soooo cute]

and then same reasoning for deuce w/riddle... riddle being sweet to deuce w/ his math struggles in deuces dorm story my beloved... + ace has that one thing he says about riddle in his ghost bride event card story where he was like "yeah he looked so cool bursting into the room i wanna work hard and be cool like him" and tbh sounded like a boycrush in denial.

[clovesnz]

Omg also, I was looking through all the snz stuff on my camera roll and I found a whole handful of mess vids that I never posted either cause they didn’t have snz or because I was self conscious about my acne or showing too much of myself. Would y’all want to see those? Should I just post them? I’m kinda over the hangups that kept me from posting them before and idk they aren’t crazy but someone might enjoy them?

[anzuhan]

daily pivot no9... whuh?