#humor and fluff

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 149

This prompt has been filled by me! Anyone can write more interpretations and I'd love to see them, but if you're a reader, here's mine! https://archiveofourown.org/works/63921304

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An alternate universe where everything is basically the same, except for that Witchers aren't taught anything about humans, and never truly interact with any. Witchers don't go into towns for contracts. Monster contracts are posted on boards on the outer border of towns. People must check back every day to see if the contract has a knife in it. If it does, it means the witcher is either out fulfilling it, or already has. The witcher will then walk out of the forest with proof of it's kill, you gift them clothing, food, weaponry, sometimes even a steed, and back away slowly. Geralt is a witcher. And the most monstrous of them, if you were to ask him. He has sickly skin, long unnaturally white hair, and those slitted yellow eyes of his. It doesn't matter. Roach doesn't care how he looks, and that's good enough for him. He's hoping this contract will give him some new clothes. He'd even take sewing supplies. His best shirt has a big gash in the sleeve. Which wouldn't normally bother him, he could deal with it, but Roach keeps trying to nibble on it. It's a contract for a bruxa. One that's apparently been causing a lot of issues for some "count." Disrupting parties and attempting to lure people away for the slaughter. Geralt has killed her, and has her head as proof. When he approaches the board with his proof, he sees two humans waiting for him. One of them sneers in disgust, and one of them gasps in horror, tearing up. Geralt presents the head, and then holds his hand out for his reward. The older human shoves the scared one at Geralt. The scared one stumbles as he's shoved, and looks up at Geralt with big, wet blue eyes. Geralt tilts his head and turns back to the older one. That one must be the Count. "Your reward, Witcher." "F- Father!" "Silence, Julian. I don't care what you do to him." The Count turns and leaves. 'Julian' looks at Geralt with fear. Geralt is used to that. Witchers are scary. "I- I thought Witchers only hunted monsters, why did you kill Emmaline?" "...This?" Geralt asks, holding up the head, and the human gags, but nods. "It was a monster. She was a Bruxa. A type of vampire." Julian stares blankly for a moment, before he erupts into laughter. Geralt doesn't usually see or hear laughter very often. He likes when this 'Julian' laughs! Oh, but the laughing turns to sobbing. "I should've known! Of course she didn't like my bloody songs! She liked my bloody blood!" The Julian cries, and Geralt feels awkward. He doesn't quite know how to make a human happy. This would be easier if Geralt were at his camp. He doesn't like being so close to a town. He needs to be in the woods. He scoops up his (apparently) Julian, and throws him over his shoulder and walks him back to camp. Julian is now sitting by Geralt's campfire, still crying, but now it's silent. Geralt sits down beside him. Humans comfort with touch, he thinks. He doesn't truly know. He awkwardly puts his arms around Julian, and it doesn't seem to working.... Aha! Because the tears are still coming! Geralt can fix that! Geralt leans in and licks the salty water away. Julian starts laughing again, and finally relaxes. Geralt did it! He's such a good humankeeper! Having a human around is difficult, but Geralt is quite happy with this new arrangement! Geralt smiles a lot more than he used to. His human is adorable, and he's funny! And Geralt is learning so much more about humans! But sometimes that's horrifying. Geralt learned humans need to eat every day, so Geralt has begun hunting more. Julian didn't tell him this fact, Geralt had to learn it by himself when Julian fainted one day. Geralt also learned that humans are delicate things. Julian tripped over a root in the ground and ended up bleeding! BLEEDING! Geralt nearly lost it, that day. He licked his scratch clean, and bandaged his human, and kept a grip on his arm the rest of the day to balance him. They're sensitive, too.

The night had a light breeze, or so Geralt thought. Julian was shaking, teeth chattering, breaths visible. Hm. Perhaps it was colder than Geralt thought. He drags the human over, making Julian let out an odd "whoop!" sound, and wraps his arms around him. Julian scoots closer before settling, wrapping around geralt.

Humans are also curious. Too curious. Julian followed him on a hunt once and almost got hurt. Geralt shouted at him, immediately felt horrible, and apologized, but made sure to let Julian know that Julian was the one who did something stupid. Geralt thinks about getting a leash to keep his human safe at camp, but he doesn't think Julian would go for it.

His human seems happy! Until he doesn't. All of a sudden he's walking slower, and constantly frowning, and he sighs every few minutes! It's driving Geralt crazy not knowing how to fix it! He's tried all the things that have worked before! He licked him, he hugged him, he let him pet Roach, he made him a bigger portion of food, but nothing is working!

"What troubles you?" "…Hm? Oh, sorry. It's just… I wanted to be a bard. Before." "Before?" "…My father.. Sold me to you, Geralt."

Oh yeah.

"…What's a bard?" "G- Geralt, you don't know what a bard is?" "No." "Why, it's simply the best career out there! At least for me. Bards make music. They travel the continent singing their sweet melodies and sharing their feelings and hope to every townsperson out there. Farmers and nobles alike love a good bard."

Julian twitters on some more about these 'bard' titles.

"How do you become a bard?" "Well, you need an instrument. I had a lute, once. And you write songs in a notebook or journal. And all you have to do is sing them."

Thus Geralt makes a plan. Geralt goes searching for these items, loots here and there, and he believes he has a perfectly functional 'lute' and a journal. Geralt has a journal. It's too full of monsters to be given to his human, though. His human deserved one just for his songs.

When Geralt gave these items to his human, his human started sobbing. Shit! But Julian insists it's "happy" sobbing??? That's a thing? Humans will also cry when happy? Geralt will take note of this.

Geralt's Julian is MUCH happier now! And he makes such nice noises! He sings for Geralt all the time now. He strums his lute, and sings, and when he's not doing that, he's humming, and when he's not doing that, he's excitedly chatting away to Geralt, and it all makes him so happy. His human is happy! He likes his little human friend. And Geralt now knows for sure his human friend likes him back.

"Though it hurt so much at the time, I'm so very glad my father gave me to you. I've truly never been happier."

It appears Julian's last humankeepers were bad at their job, despite being humans themselves. Oh well. Doesn't matter now. Geralt would never rehome him.

Thus comes Geralt's problem. Winter is coming. He needs to head to the keep. He can keep his human alive up the path, Geralt's sure of it. He's skilled in humankeeping by now. But the actual staying part is what scares him. What if when Julian meets the other witchers, he finds one that can keep him even happier than Geralt? What if Geralt loses his Julian!? It's just unthinkable!

[aventurineswife]

Hear me out: Dan Heng having to put up with Yae Miko!Reader’s antics. Not only are they cunning and mischievous, but they probably goad and enable Dan Heng into indulging in some mischief himself, which…honestly spells chaos for anyone unfortunate enough to cross their minds, but especially enemies of the Astral Express (or anyone Reader might deem as threatening the other crew members). The Unshackled, Sanctus Medicus, the borisin, the Preceptors, the IPC, the Banacademic Office’s Assistananas. Chances are, Reader has screwed them over somehow (and maybe even humiliated them) without ever lifting more than a finger — and they’ll gladly rub salt into the wound to drive home the ungodly karma.

They’re very sweet to Dan Heng, tho, in their own exasperating way; which probably contributes to March’s accusations of Reader playing favorites.

That being said, not even Dan Heng himself is safe from Reader’s tomfoolery. 😅

Take a Walk on the Wild Side

Summary: Dan Heng finds himself reluctantly pulled into one of your mischievous schemes aboard the Astral Express. With your charm and knack for chaos, you convince him to join forces in an elaborate plan to subtly humiliate the IPC while stirring up lighthearted trouble for the crew. Despite his initial resistance, Dan Heng discovers a side of himself that enjoys the thrill of your antics—and maybe, just maybe, the connection you share.

Tags: Dan Heng x Yae Miko!Reader, Astral Express Shenanigans, Mischief and Pranks, Slow-Burn Tension, Protective Dan Heng, Humor and Fluff.

Warnings: Light chaos and playful mischief (nothing harmful), Mild suggestive undertones (flirty banter).

Dan Heng leaned against the railing of the Astral Express, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse of stars stretching out before him. The hum of the train was a welcome contrast to the chaos that often followed their travels. But in the quiet of the night, the crew had a way of finding him—one way or another.

And tonight, it was you.

“Good evening, Dan Heng,” you said, your voice light and playful, with that familiar mischievous gleam in your eyes. He didn’t look at you right away, but the subtle shift in the air told him everything he needed to know. You were up to something.

“Evening,” he replied flatly, not bothering to look at you, though he couldn’t help but sense the energy in your presence, like the calm before a storm.

You sidled up beside him, leaning casually on the railing. "You know," you began, your tone deceptively sweet, "I’ve been thinking. The crew’s been too comfortable lately. Maybe it’s time to remind them how exciting life aboard the Astral Express can be."

Dan Heng didn’t react right away. He’d learned long ago to never fully indulge in your schemes, but your words always had a way of pulling him in. The thought of unsettling the others—especially the more uptight members of the crew—was something he couldn’t entirely resist. After all, no one was truly safe from your antics, not even him.

“You know the Trailblazer’s fond of tricks, don’t you?” you smirked, nudging him with your shoulder. “I think you’ve been far too good lately. Maybe it’s time you joined me for some fun.”

Dan Heng sighed, but even as the breath left his lips, he felt his resolve weaken. You had a way of getting under his skin—drawing him into your antics with a precision that both frustrated and intrigued him. Normally, he would’ve resisted—his responsibility aboard the Express always came first. But with you, the lines were always a little more blurred. You made everything feel… lighter.

“March is already accusing you of playing favorites,” he said, the faintest hint of amusement slipping into his usually guarded tone. “I don’t think adding fuel to that fire is wise.”

You chuckled, your voice soft and melodic, betraying none of the mischief simmering beneath. “Oh, Dan Heng, who would I be without a little fun? Besides, what harm could a bit of chaos do? After all, the IPC won’t be the only ones suffering if we don’t make a statement.”

The mention of the IPC made him pause. The ongoing conflict with them was a constant weight on his mind, one he preferred to avoid discussing. But your tone—effortless, confident—reminded him that there was always more to your mischief than met the eye. You never did anything without a reason. And when it came to protecting the Astral Express or those you cared about, your actions often spoke louder than words.

You leaned closer, your breath warm against his ear as you whispered, “And you know, Dan Heng… I think it would be absolutely delightful to humiliate them all without lifting a finger. A little magic, a little misdirection… and we could make them regret crossing us.”

The mischievous edge to your voice sent a shiver down his spine. He could already picture it—the smug faces of the IPC executives contorting into confusion and frustration as you unraveled their plans. Chaos. But it was a chaos he could almost enjoy, especially when you made it seem so effortless.

Dan Heng hesitated, then finally muttered, his voice a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement, “Fine. But if we’re doing this, I’m not going easy on them.”

Your eyes sparkled with glee. “That’s the spirit. Just follow my lead, and we’ll make sure they remember the consequences of underestimating us.”

In that moment, it felt as though the universe itself held its breath, waiting to see what would unfold. And then, in an instant, everything shifted. You sprang into action, weaving a web of illusions and misdirection that left the crew scrambling. Dan Heng, despite his best intentions to remain detached, found himself swept up in the whirlwind of pranks and subtle sabotage.

The IPC never stood a chance. Their every move undone by tricks and magic they couldn’t possibly fathom. As for the crew—well, Dan Heng wasn’t sure how they’d ever look at him the same way again.

March would probably have another complaint about favoritism. Himeko would shake her head, as always, in quiet resignation. But Dan Heng? He found himself fighting the urge to smile as the chaos unfurled around him.

You, as always, were impossible to resist.

[escespace]

Merlin and Arthur but maybe this continues like this:

Arthur doesn't believe shit. What do you mean Merlin doesn't remember him? HIM?! Who does he think he is? He's been looking for him for weeks like a jilted lover (not that he is one) and when they meet again he doesn't remember anything of what they have experienced but he does remember that Gwaine once split eight apples with his head?

As expected, Arthur lashes out. The guy tends to be a brute when his emotions get too much. Obviously, he clashes with Merlin who doesn't let anyone walk all over him. So the knights are forced to endure a back and forth of sarcasm and bad temper.

«You can't talk to me like that, I'm a prince»

«How could I be sure of that? Memory loss, remember, you royal idiot?»

«I couldn't forget it because you keep repeating it to me!»

«I wouldn't repeat it if it didn't seem like the one with head problems is someone else who isn't me. Could you tell me if there have been many blows to your head or if it's just the nobility inflating it so much that it doesn't allow anything new to enter?»

«I'll show you lots of blows to the...»

I don't need to say that they didn't manage to do much that day. The knights looked for an inn and rested with their hearts heavy with worry for the young ex-servant who seemed to have forgotten parts of his life.

The next day, Arthur goes out to find his knights already talking to Merlin. Everyone seems very happy, chatting and laughing like any other time, but from what he understood from the previous day, it's just him that he doesn't seem to remember. Again, what kind of memory loss is that?

Talking to the knights, Merlin finds out why they are there and offers to accompany them to talk to someone who other townspeople have pointed out as a possible witness and this is because, SURPRISE, coincidentally, he is on his way there. He is a hard-working man whose elderly mother is ill and Merlin has been hired to prepare the medicine she requires.

The truth is that the man was in the area where the whole incident against those who went to look for the sorcerer happened because moments before he had met with Merlin to exchange the brew. And now Merlin wants to know if he really saw something that could incriminate him or endanger the sorcerer he helped escape.

They go to the man's house, do what they have to do, get nothing because the man didn't see anything (bullshit but he believes in Merlin)

So they keep searching and investigating, and Merlin accompanies them because he needs to make sure they don't find the people he's helped move (not just in that town) so he bombards them with verbose until they spill the beans, and no one believes anything bad about it because this is sweet and naive Merlin, please...

And more verbal challenges are exchanged between Arthur and Merlin because Arthur can't stand the tall man acting like nothing happened with everyone but him and he must find a way to get Merlin to admit that everything ut's either a bad joke (which will earn him a few nights of polishing every brick in the castle) or he says something that finally makes sense of how he forgot Arthur and if this way irritates him to the point of his ears glow from how red they get, that's just a bonus

«If I don't remember that he's a noble and I stab him, is it really illegal?»

«IT'S ILLEGAL IF YOU STABB ANYONE, MERLIN"

"What if no one sees it? Is it still illegal?»

«Now you're just playing dumb»

«No, no, Lance, I do think he has a couple of good points»

«Don't encourage him, Gwaine»

Anyway, somehow they end up discovering that the men who were sent to find the accused are a group that every time they are sent they return to Camelot with stories sufficiently disturbing to avoid too many questions since the sorcerers this group Usually look for never make it to Camelot.

Perhaps they find out while they are divided. One group is at the inn eating and it is there that they meet the derailed knights (we would call them the haters)... So the round table connects the dots and a fight breaks out.

On the other hand, half of the round table that was not looking for food finds out about the haters from a survivor who explains to them that these so-called knights seek to exterminate sorcerers by his own hand.

«It is not their right to judge. The king's law must be given by the king» Arthur says

«It's not as if the judging part happens much in front of the king either» Merlin attacks. «more like simply sentence and death. Even if they are not really sorcerers or even if there was no harm or injury»

Lancelot is the one who silences Merlin before a fight breaks out, calming him down by speaking comfortingly because there is no time to waste.They must meet up with the others because if they are lucky perhaps the group of haters will still be around and they can catch them there instead of in Camelot where the situation is still tense as to prove that there are even weaknesses within the army...

The problem is, as we know, that the haters are fighting at that very moment with the other members of the round table and they outnumber them.

So as he opens the door of the inn a dagger immediately flies towards Merlin, who is the one who is going ahead. But it does not hit him but Arthur who somehow quickly got in the way.

Blood blooms like a dam that overflows before Merlin's eyes, eyes that instantly turn golden, causing every Rebel knight (every hater) to fall unconscious. And isn't Arthur supposed to be unconscious at times like this too? Because he definitely shouldn't have seen that, he didn't want to see it and now that he has he must acknowledge that Merlin has magic

.

.

.

Continuation

[kinda-indecisive]

Hii! Dunno if ur taking requests, but wanted to ask if u could write how would the boys react to mc lifting them up without falling or sum, like mc being really strong...🙂‍↕️

Yay! My first request on this blog!! Thanks Anon for the request and sorry it took so long. This was super fun :D Without further ado, Part 1 of this scenario....

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You (MC) remind the guys that your profession requires strength.

Part 1: The Rafayel and Zayne Editions!

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Rafayel

“Don’t you think this sounds incredibly suspicious?” you frown, securing your comms in your ear, “That invitation was super cryptic, are you sure this is the guy Thomas was talking about? Because I don’t imagine he’d willingly put his most prolific client on the line, no matter how ostentatious he may be.”

“Ostentatious?” Rafayel snorts, tossing you an offended look over his shoulder as he adjusts his collar, “Thomas wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he lost me. I complete him.”

“You’re avoiding answering my question,” you grimace, “What are we really doing here? Do you have any idea who this man is? And he just goes by the name The Curator? Isn’t that weird?”

“Hmm, it is weird. But doesn’t it make you even a little curious?”

You give him a long look before shrugging, “Clearly you think something is going on if you’re dragging me along.”

“Nah, just think of it as an eccentric date night, huh, Cutie?”

“Who needs their bodyguard to go with them on a date night?” you whine. When he spins around, he surprises you with eyes sparkling with so much adoration that your complaints die in your throat.

“Come on. It’s gonna be great.”

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“Mr. Rafayel, please be reasonable. The Curator specifically requested you and you alone, and—”

“And what? If he wants me to go, he should be just fine with having my bodyguard along as well,” he says, tilting his head impatiently, “He’s lucky I came at all.”

While the guard who speaks to Raf stumbles all over his words, you watch as the quieter guard slips inside the room. A moment later, he returns and murmurs something to his still-fumbling companion. Lowering his head, the silent guard gives you and Raf a look over before gesturing to the room.

“Thank you, Mr. Rafayel, for your patience. I apologize for the delay.”

“Yeah, well, you should be lucky things didn’t get out of hand. My bodyguard would have chewed you up and spit you out in a minute flat.”

Though it’s hard to keep your flat expression, you manage well. And when you follow Rafayel into the room, you hear the two guards murmuring behind you.

Though your hair is standing on end with anticipation, Rafayel strolls into the room so casually it’s as if he were walking into his own studio.

The room is grand, with pillars from floor to ceiling, every wall layered with beautiful works of art, and luxurious furniture arranged on plush rugs as if one frequently entertained guests here. But the mysterious benefactor who has summoned your boyfriend doesn’t seem to be interested in meeting him here.

Another door, another set of guards, and, finally, you and Raf are face to face with The Curator.

He’s a tall man, an extremely thin man, with long, spindly fingers steepled in front of his face. It’s almost comical, how much of a villain this man looks. That this man is the owner of such a beautiful collection, of such a contrastingly colorful home, doesn’t fall flat on your sense of irony.

“Good evening, Mr. Curator,” Rafayel greets him.

“Rafayel Qi,” he acknowledges with a slight hum, “We finally meet. It’s a pleasure, although I wasn’t expecting us to have company.”

“That’s just my bodyguard, pay them no mind.”

The Curator’s sharp gaze considers you for a long moment before he looks back toward Rafayel, “Was there something I did that made you feel the need to bring your bodyguard along?”

“Not particularly,” he says dismissively, “So tell me, Curator… to what do I owe the pleasure of being summoned to your beautiful manor? After having a look around, I’m beginning to understand the significance of your title.”

The Curator continues to look over Rafayel with an appraising gaze that makes you even more uneasy. Finally, he clears his throat and folds his hands on the desk, “I hear you are someone worth knowing if one wants to know more about the ancient kingdom of Lemuria."

Peering around the room, you take in how different this office space is from the other rooms you’d passed in this manor. It’s unsettling, how dark the furniture is here, how dim the lights are. How much… cheaper things look in this room. Replaceable, unlike the prized possessions outside this door. If you had to guess, you’d assume this was some kind of decoy office. But why would anyone need to set up such a guise?

You take a tiny, nearly imperceptible step closer to Rafayel, quickly focusing in on the conversation being held.

“We won’t be having any problems, will we Mr. Qi?”

“Problems? From me? I’m just an artist. I paint stunning pieces of abstract art for a living,” he says, looking down at his fingernails, “I wouldn’t know how to put one of your men down. Not even if you handed me an extremely in-depth file of all kinds of blackmail that could be used against them—both by the government, or by the several other businessmen’s associates whose pals have been swindled or disappeared by them.”

The Curator stands abruptly, his eye twitching. Rafayel merely smiles.

The door bursts open and your flight instinct takes over as you grab hold of Rafayel’s wrist, dragging him toward you and pulling him over your shoulders as the door bursts into flames behind them.

The sounds of yelling and angry, heavy footsteps ring in your ears, but you don’t pause your stride for a single second, pushing away heavy curtains on the opposite wall to reveal a large balcony with stairs, streaks of red fire randomly appearing in your periphery. Still, you don’t stop until you have made it out of the manor, plopping Raf onto his feet as he instantly slides into the car and starts the engine. It revs to life and the shouting men point their guns at you as he peels out, gravel flying out from under the tires, their guns focused on you before…

Boom!

Something in that decoy office explodes and the far end of the manor begins to crumble in on itself.

Your heart pounds as you turn and look at Rafayel, whose eyes are focused on the rearview mirror, making sure the two of you aren’t followed. He drives in silence for a while, until he’s finally certain you two are safe from any immediate danger. You look at him in surprise when he suddenly pulls over and throws the car into park.

“You just blew that manor up,” you breathe.

He snorts, letting out an exasperated laugh, “And you literally carried me out of that place like a doll!”

You two look at each other, eyes wide with leftover adrenaline, and you burst into belly-aching laughter.

“That was insane!”

“I truly wasn’t expecting you to do that, Cutie. But I had to just go with the flow.”

“You knew something was going on all along. Thomas never sent you there.”

“Of course he didn’t. But now you know why I needed to bring my Bodyguard along. What would I have done without you?”

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Zayne

“What about my personality makes you think I would ever want my feet to be anything other than planted firmly on the ground?”

You snort and pout, draping your arms around his waist as he continues to walk through the kitchen, putting last night’s cups in the cupboard while you hang from him. You had woken up to find Zayne still dressed in his pajamas, tidying up the dishes you two had left in the kitchen from dinner last night. You desperately want to try something you’d seen in a viral video before falling asleep last night, and he’s adamantly against it, like usual.

“Think of it from a scientific angle.”

He frowns, “You want me to experiment on you?”

“As if you don’t already have a bunch of hypotheses about me and my ‘bizarre habits’,” you mumble, trying to become even more dead weight around his waist, attempting to slow him down. But he continues moving around the kitchen like no big deal, causing you to slip off of him and scramble after him, reattaching yourself to his hip.

“Hm…” he murmurs, then finally stops, reaching down and gently grabbing your arm, unwrapping it from around him, and pulling you up to look him in the eye, “Tell me truthfully, why do you want to do this?”

Biting your lip, you consider brushing it off as nothing for a second, only to give in the moment you look back up at him.

You sigh heavily, feeling your throat tighten a little, “The other night, when I took some overtime, I read a report from a past incident. There were two Hunters, partners, a man and a woman. At one point during the battle the man went down from an injury. It wasn’t life-threatening, but… she wasn’t able to get him somewhere safely on time and he ended up…”

Tears fill your eyes and you blink them away, only to find Zayne looking down at you with a faint smile.

“It’s not funny, Zayne! You often accept jobs in dangerous locations. Locations I’m sent out to as well! I need to know that if something were to happen to you that I would be able to get you out.”

“And so you want to attempt to do some version of a carry or lift to take me from one room into the other?” he asks, still smiling faintly, though there is a slight edge to his voice now that hadn’t been there before.

“I’m being serious. This is very important to me,” you pout up at him.

His smile fades and he tenses up a little. Still looking down at you, he takes your face between his hands, “And what if you can’t do it? Are you going to force yourself to train even harder, despite your doctor’s orders?”

Biting down on your lip, you take a resolute stance, looking up at him with a new determination.

“I am not going to fail.”

He peers down at you for a few long seconds before releasing your face, standing up straight, and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Sighing deeply, he murmurs, “If we do this, please try to avoid passing by any mirrors. I’d like to keep some of my dignity intact.”

You squeal in excitement at his reluctant acceptance.

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In the living room, you wiggle in anticipation, “Alright, Zaynie, think light thoughts!”

“Is this technique scientifically supported or just more of your nonsense?”

“... Just lie down.”

He does as you order, trying his hardest to maintain that dignity he’d been speaking about by avoiding eye contact with you.

“Remember, it’s perfectly fine if you’re unable to do this. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad girlfriend, and it definitely doesn’t mean you’re a bad Hunter.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying. But I’m not gonna fail.”

He chuckles faintly and you take a deep breath, prepping yourself mentally for the task at hand. You create a fake scenario in your mind as motivation. You and Zayne had been trapped fighting Wanderers and he’d been hit by a massive blow that had knocked him unconscious. You got rid of the largest Wanderer and the biggest threat, but smaller Wanderers are spawning at an alarming rate. You have to get him out quick.

Once you’ve made up your scenario, you look down to see Zayne peering up at you with that familiar, faintly amused expression. Ignoring him, you steel your nerves.

“I’m gonna try a couple of different techniques to get a feel for which is better for me.”

“Do as you must.”

“Remember, you can’t assist me. I have to do this on my own.”

“You’ve been very clear about that point. Though I still think it is somewhat unnecessary. There is always the possibility that I’d be lucid enough to assist you somewhat.”

“There’s also the possibility that you wouldn’t be. We have to prepare for the worst-case scenario.”

“Very well. You may proceed.”

“Alright. Here we go,” you murmur, looking at him from all angles. You already know one technique might be much more difficult than the other, less so about the weight you’d be carrying, and more so due to the height differences. Though it might still be possible, you’d be putting in much more work than if you attempted to go another way.

You squat down a couple times, lifting his arms to get a feel of the weight of them, propping his knees up, and then setting them back down. He does his very best to stay still for you, though he appears to be fighting the urge to take over and do it himself.

When you finally get a feel of what you want to do, you squat down, arranging his limbs to reduce too much movement, and try to make him as compact as possible. You ignore the soft huff that comes from your boyfriend, as if he’s preparing himself to take a bump.

One second, he’s flat on his back. In the next, you’ve pulled him up and off the floor, your arm holding onto one of his arms and legs, his weight nearly completely supported across your shoulders.

You grunt triumphantly, taking one step, two steps… ten whole steps before you feel your legs start to wobble.

“I can’t make it into the next room.”

His voice is slightly strained when he instructs, “Set me on the couch.”

When you manage to do as he asked, his hair is ruffled, his face is flushed, his eyes are slightly wider than usual, and he completely avoids eye contact, clearing his throat into his fist as he nods, “Well…”

“I did it!” you celebrate, flopping down on the floor and rubbing your shaky legs, “I mean, I would have liked to get you to the other room, but this wasn’t bad for a first time. With a little more practice, I should be able to get it done in no time!”

“You are… always full of surprises,” he says, his ears turning even pinker as you move to sit beside him. Then his head rises slightly as he glances at you, “Wait, did you say ‘more practice’?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My first request!! I hope it turned out alright. Part II should be up soon, if I can get a minute to breatheeeee lol

taglist❤: @fallthelong

MY LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST

[jrob64]

Drummer Boys, Reindeer and Romance

My Secret Santa gift for @mie779

Merry Christmas @mie779 - I'm your Secret Santa this year! I was very excited to get your name and I hope you like the story and pic set I created for you. I tried to work in some of your favorite things. Hope you have a wonderful holiday season!

Many thanks to @hookedmom who took time out from a busy holiday season to beta for me.

With this story, I can cross off one square on my Winter Bingo Board. Stories in that collection can be found here

Story Summary: An empty seat at an elementary school Christmas pageant creates an opportunity for Killian Jones to meet Emma Swan. As they chat between songs, they feel drawn to each other, but Killian has to be brave enough to ask Emma out…and she has to be brave enough to accept. 

Rating: G

Words (Chapter 1/1): 5899

Can also be found on Ao3 and ffn

Stories in the CS Secret Santa 2024 collection can be found here

Story begins under the cut

*********

“Pardon me, lass. Is that seat taken?”

Emma Swan looked up from the program she had been scanning, to see a man standing in the aisle of the auditorium, looking at her expectantly.

“Excuse me?” she asked.

“I was wondering if you were saving the seat beside you for someone.”

She glanced at the empty seat to her left. “Uh, no. I’m not saving it for anyone.”

After an awkward pause, he asked, “In that case, would you mind if I sit there?”

“Oh, sorry.” She stood up, letting him pass in front of her.

When they were settled in their seats, he said, “Thanks very much.” Holding out his hand, he added, “Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she responded, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around Storybrooke before.”

“I live in Portland. I visit from time to time, and stay at my brother Liam’s house when I do. I’m here to watch his and Elsa’s daughters. They’re the two cutest reindeer.”

“Missy and Alice are your nieces? They’re in my son Henry’s class. In fact, I think he has a crush on one of them.”

“Which one?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. They both look alike to me.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “that’s quite common with identical twins.”

She laughed. “You have a point there.”

“Is your son also a reindeer?”

“I wish,” she sighed. “Reindeer are quiet. My son is the little drummer boy. My friend is the music teacher and I’m pretty sure she cast him in that role intentionallly. Her husband has been dying to buy Henry a drum set ever since he was a toddler, but I keep telling him absolutely not. Of course, once my son got the part, he had to practice, so Mary Margaret sent a snare drum home with him. I can hardly wait until this program is over, so I can get that freaking thing out of my house. I love my kid, but he’s driving me crazy with it!”

Killian’s grin stretched wider across his handsome face. “Well, I can assure you that reindeer are not quiet. At least, not in Alice and Missy’s case.”

“I’m sure having two ten-year-olds in the house can be very loud. I only have one and sometimes I swear he’s trying to split my eardrums.”

“With his drum,” Killian smirked.

“You’re hilarious,” Emma groaned sarcastically, rolling her eyes. However, she couldn’t help grinning a little at his attempt to make a joke.

“Are you, uh, are you sure I’m not taking…anyone’s seat?” he asked tentatively.

“If you’re talking about Henry’s father, he won’t be coming. He lives in New York City with his other family. Henry only gets to see him a couple of times a year.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. The less time Henry spends with his dad, the smaller the chance Henry will act like him. After six years, he’s used to taking a back seat to Neal’s other kids.”

She opened the paper she was holding again, scanning the information typed inside. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Killian leaning in slightly to have a look at it, too.

“Didn’t they give you a program at the door?” she asked.

“They were out by the time I got here. I left work as soon as I could, but barely made it. Liam and Elsa weren’t expecting me to come tonight, so they didn’t save a seat for me.”

Emma swiped across her phone to look at the time. “They’re getting started a few minutes late. That’s typical for Mary Margaret because she wants everything to be perfect. She’s probably still gluing cotton balls onto Santa’s beard.” Scooting over in her seat a couple of inches, she held the program between them. “I’ll share with you. Looks like Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer is the next-to-last song.”

Killian perused the offered page. “Your drummer boy looks to be the star of the third song.”

“Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum,” she intoned. He chuckled.

The lights dimmed and Mary Margaret hurried onto the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Show time,” Emma commented, then straightened in her seat to listen as her friend welcomed everyone.

*********

Killian shifted in the cushioned chair and tried to focus on what the lovely, pixie-haired teacher was saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to pay attention; rather, it was the distraction of the beautiful woman to his right which was occupying his mind. Through no fault of her own, she was making it very difficult for him to concentrate on the acknowledgements of all of the people responsible for helping with the elementary school Christmas pageant.

When she looked up at him after he inquired about the empty seat beside her, he was instantly struck by her beauty. It had been a long time since he gave any woman a second glance. Having his heart broken three years before caused him to swear off of women for good, and he stuck to it.

He may have to rethink that.

Being intrigued by her looks was one thing, but when she began conversing with him, he was struck by how easy it was to talk to her. She was witty and sarcastic, and put him at ease immediately.

When he verified that he wasn’t taking anyone’s seat, it was also his subtle way of asking if she was in a relationship. He had discreetly checked her ring finger and saw it was bare, but wanted further assurance. He was probably assuming too much by thinking her answer about her ex was proof she was indeed single, because she could be dating someone else. But if she was, that man would surely show up to her son’s Christmas pageant, wouldn’t he?

As crazy as it sounded, after knowing her for all of five minutes, Killian was seriously thinking of asking her out.

*********

Emma could feel the nearness of the man beside her and, shockingly enough, she didn’t mind at all. In fact, she actually found herself leaning toward him.

Her friend Elsa mentioned her brother-in-law to Emma several times, but she had never met him or seen a picture of him. If she had, she definitely would have remembered, because the man was ridiculously handsome. She probably seemed like an idiot when he asked about the empty seat beside her and she didn’t tell him he could sit there right away. She was simply gobsmacked when she looked up at him and had trouble getting her mind to work.

Fortunately, once he sat down, words were easier and the conversation she had with him was very enjoyable. She found herself wishing he had gotten there sooner, so they could have had more time to chat before the pageant began. It had been quite a while since she actually wanted more time to talk to a man. Usually, she wanted them to shut up and leave her alone.

Finding someone to date in Storybrooke was not an easy feat. Not that she put much effort into it. After what she went through with Neal, she swore off dating altogether. He not only broke her heart by leaving her for another woman, he told her he never loved her in the first place and the only reason he stayed with her as long as he did was because she was careless enough to get pregnant. He didn’t seem to realize that he had a little something to do with her ending up in that condition, too. She didn’t regret it, though. Henry was the best thing that ever happened to her. She had been telling herself for years that she loved her kid and he was the only male she needed in her life.

How absurd was it for her to want a chance to get better acquainted with Killian Jones so soon after meeting him?

*********

Killian’s whirlpool of thoughts was interrupted when music began playing and the third and fourth grade students trooped onto the stage to stand on the risers, all of them dressed in homemade costumes for their various roles.

Leaning over, he quietly asked, “Which one is Henry?”

Emma pointed. “The one with the jeans chopped off at the knees, white shirt and a vest made out of a cut up paper bag. Real professional, huh? He reminded me last night that he needed a costume, so it’s the best I could do.”

“I think it’s very effective. He’s supposed to be a poor boy, right?”

They fell silent when a little girl dressed as Mrs. Claus stepped to the microphone to introduce the first song. As Killian tried to lay his elbow on the arm rest, he bumped Emma’s, which was already there.

“Sorry, Love,” he whispered, tucking his arm against his side.

“We can share,” she whispered back, scooting her arm over to give him some room. Under normal circumstances, he would have passed on the offer, but he quite liked how it felt to touch her. Once their elbows were both on the arm rest, he turned his attention back to the stage, where the students dressed as elves were lining up to lead the song Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas, while Mary Margaret was taking her seat behind the piano.

“You were right,” Emma muttered. “Your nieces are the cutest reindeer.”

“Of course they are. They take after their uncle,” he cheeked.

Mary Margaret launched into the accompaniment before Emma could reply.

Frosty the Snowman followed, with students dressed as snow people spinning and dancing on the stage. One snowman twirled himself dizzy and almost fell off of the stage. Luckily, David was quick on his feet, catching the little boy and preventing disaster.

“I can guarantee I’ll hear about what a hero he was for days from Mary Margaret,” Emma remarked as they clapped at the end of the song.

“Your boy is up next,” Killian reminded her.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, scrambling to pull her phone out of her purse.

“Would you like me to take the video so you can sit back and enjoy his performance?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all. It would be my pleasure.”

Emma quickly unlocked her phone, pulled up the camera app and set it to video. “You know how to do this, right?”

He chuckled as he took it from her hands. “Don’t worry, Swan. I’m a twenty-first century man, so I do know a fair amount about technology.”

Henry took his place behind the snare drum and smiled widely at his mom. However, once the song started, he was all business, taking his drum solo very seriously. After filming the entire group of students during the first verse, Killian zoomed in on Henry for the rest of the song, capturing his solemn expression as he struck the drum in perfect rhythm.

At the conclusion of the song, Killian turned the phone toward Emma, who was clapping loudly and shouting, “Way to go, kid!” Through the lens, Killian could see the sheen of proud tears in her eyes. He didn’t stop filming until she turned to him to get her device back.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m glad I could enjoy it without having to watch him through my phone screen.”

“No problem,” he assured her. “He did a wonderful job. He just might have a future as a drummer in a band.”

“I hope he’s out on his own by then if he does. I don’t think I could handle all of the practicing.”

Killian chuckled and settled back in his seat to enjoy the next two songs. When it was time for the reindeer to take their place at the front of the stage, he dug his own phone out of the front pocket of his jeans.

“Here, I’ll return the favor,” Emma said, reaching for the phone. “Enjoy your nieces’ performance.”

“Thanks, Love,” he said gratefully.

The song went well until one of the twins accidentally stepped on the other one’s foot, who then pushed the unwitting culprit. A short shoving match ensued between the two of them, until Mary Margaret snapped her fingers at them with one hand, while continuing to play the piano with the other.

Killian scanned the crowd to find his brother and sister-in-law. Liam was trying, and failing, to keep a grin off of his face, while Elsa scowled ferociously at her rowdy daughters.

The rest of the song went on without further incident. When Emma handed his phone back, Killian remarked, “I think the girls might be in for it after this is over.”

“Yeah, Elsa looks pretty peeved.”

“Do you know her?”

“We got to know each other through the PTO, and we’ve become pretty good friends.”

“PTO?” he questioned.

“Parent-teacher organization. We do fundraisers to give the school and staff extra things the district doesn’t provide. We also sponsor fun events for students and their parents, like skating parties and bingo nights.”

“It sounds very beneficial,” Killian commented.

Mary Margaret announced that the final song was Silent Night and after the students sang it through once, the audience was encouraged to join in.

The children, who had just sung Rudolph loudly and exuberantly, now sang the beloved carol with great reverence. A hush fell over the crowd as they listened to the sweet voices. Killian turned his eyes toward Emma and saw her swallow hard, clearly trying to keep her emotions in check. He was a little emotional himself and he didn’t even have a child on the stage.

Killian added his rich baritone the second time through. He could hear Emma’s voice and wasn’t at all surprised that it was as lovely as the lady herself.

As the final notes faded away, she turned to look at him. He smiled and winked, beginning to clap with the rest of the audience. When the ovation was over, she quickly collected her coat and purse. “I have to go get Henry from his classroom. I…it was nice meeting you, Killian. Maybe we’ll see each other the next time you come to town.”

He looked stunned. “Aye, Swan, perhaps we will.”

With a final wave, she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

*********

As he watched her walk away, Killian felt like kicking himself. He just let her go, without asking her out or even requesting her phone number. He was sure he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection between the two of them, but now it was too late to act on it.

She did say she was Elsa’s friend, so perhaps he could get Emma’s information from his sister-in-law. That was less than ideal, but it might be his only option.

He sighed, grabbed his coat from the chair and set off to locate his family.

*********

Emma hated leaving the way she did, but she knew Henry would be waiting for her. Telling her son how proud she was of him, trumped hanging around to talk to Killian some more. She truly hoped she would run into him again, sometime.

She wished she would have been bold enough to ask him for his phone number. Of course, she could always get it from Elsa, but that would mean telling her friend she was interested in her brother-in-law. Emma didn’t really want to open that can of worms.

So as she fought her way through the crowd, disappointment rose up within her because she knew she was leaving behind the first guy who drew her interest in a very long time.

*********

“Where’s Elsa?” Killian asked, once he found Liam still occupying the seat he sat in during the performance.

“She went to get the girls. I offered, but she insisted. She may knock their heads together after their antics on stage.”

Killian laughed. “Never a dull moment with those two, is there?”

“Not a single one. Thanks for coming, brother,” Liam said, standing up to clap Killian on the shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I told Missy and Alice I would try to make it and I didn’t want to let them down.”

“You’re a good uncle.”

“The best,” Killian smirked. Then his face took on a serious expression. “May I ask you something?”

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“Uh…how well do you know…Emma Swan?”

Liam’s brows raised. “She and Elsa are good friends, so I know her pretty well. Why do you ask?”

Killian scratched behind his ear. “I, um…I sat beside her this evening. I never met her before, but I…she…she seems very nice.”

Liam studied his brother for several moments. “Are you interested in her?” he queried.

His brother shrugged. “I just…we had a good conversation and I thought about…”

When he didn’t continue, Liam supplied, “Asking her out?”

Killian shrugged again. “I know. It’s a stupid idea. I mean, I just met her and we only talked for a few minutes, but…”

Liam stepped in front of him, placing both hands on his brother’s shoulders. “Killian, I know you had a rough go of it with Milah, but you can’t go through life never taking a chance again.”

“Emma probably wouldn’t accept…”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. She went to collect her son and then they’ll leave.”

“Then we’ll go find her before they do.”

“Liam…”

“Killian, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

Killian considered his brother’s words for a few seconds. “You’re right. Let’s go see if she’s still here.”

The pair took off through the nearly empty auditorium. Liam led Killian down one hallway, then nearly ran into Elsa and the girls when they turned the corner.

“There are my lovely ladies,” Liam said, kissing first one of his daughters on the head, then the other. “Good job, my little reindeer.” Seeing the stern look Elsa was giving him, he added, “But perhaps next time you shouldn’t stand right next to each other.”

“It was Missy’s fault,” Alice began, before being cut off by her mother.

“I’ve already talked to you about this,” Elsa reprimanded. “You were both at fault and tomorrow, you will both apologize to Mrs. Nolan.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused. Then they rushed to get a hug from their uncle.

“You came!” Alice cried.

“Told you he would,” Missy said. “Uncle Killy would never let us down, would you?”

“I can’t promise that I never will, but I’ll try my very best not to,” he assured them, one arm wrapped around each twin.

Liam pulled Elsa aside. “Did you see Emma?” he asked.

“Yes, she was picking up Henry at the same time I was getting the girls,” his wife answered. “Why?”

Lowering his voice so their daughters wouldn’t hear, he said, “Killian sat beside her during the performance and they seemed to hit it off. He was hoping to catch her before she left and ask her out.”

Elsa’s expression went from very excited to downcast. “I’m afraid they’re gone already.”

Killian caught what she said and his heart sank. He knew he missed his chance when he let her walk away.

Elsa saw the look on her brother-in-law’s face. “Girls, hug your uncle and tell him goodbye. I’m sure he needs to start back to Portland soon.”

Missy and Alice took turns getting big bear hugs from Killian, then Liam bid him goodbye and took the girls to the car, clearly aware that his wife wanted to talk to his brother alone.

Killian gave Elsa a questioning look. “What do you have up your sleeve?”

“Do you think Emma was attracted to you?”

He shrugged slightly. “I can’t say for sure, but we talked quite a bit and she seemed to like me.”

“The fact that she enjoyed talking to you leads me to believe she does. I love Emma, but she can be a bit prickly. I think you should ask her out.”

“Did you miss the part when you said she already left?”

“I’m going to give you her address, smart guy. Then you can go to her house.”

“Perhaps you should just give me her phone number instead.”

“You will not ask her out over the phone,” Elsa commanded. “That’s too impersonal.”

Killian nodded. “I see your point.” Pulling out his phone, he brought up Google Maps and typed in the address Elsa read from her contacts list. “It’s only a five minute drive.”

“Yes it is, which gives you less time to change your mind.” She gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. “Now get going. Call us when you’re on the way home and let us know what happened.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, saluting smartly. When she rolled her eyes at him, he grew serious. “Thank you, Elsa.”

“You’re welcome. Now go turn on your charm.”

*********

Ten minutes later, Killian pulled up in front of the small, unassuming house where the GPS led him. After cutting the engine, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, contemplating whether or not he should go through with his plan.

His phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Liam: Remember what I told you. Don’t lose your nerve.

Killian shook his head and snorted out a laugh. Sometimes it was almost scary how well his brother knew him.

“The worst that can happen is she turns me down. I can survive that, right?” he muttered to himself. “Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt, threw open his car door and climbed out. Then he walked up the short sidewalk, lined with lighted plastic candy canes. After knocking on the front door, he nervously brushed one hand through his hair, then tugged at the bottom of his black leather jacket.

The door swung open and he found himself looking down at the little drummer boy, still dressed in his cut off jeans and white shirt, sans the paper bag vest. They looked at each other for a couple of seconds, then Henry turned and yelled, “Mom! Some guy is here!”

“Henry, what have I told you about answering the…” Emma’s words cut off suddenly when she came into view. “Killian?” she questioned disbelievingly.

“Uh, hi. I, um…I hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he stammered.

She looked flabbergasted. “How did you know where I live?”

“Elsa gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

Henry looked back and forth between the two adults. “Do you mean Mrs. Jones? Alice’s mom?”

“And Missy’s,” Emma added distractedly.

“How do you know Mrs. Jones?” Henry asked.

“Killian’s brother Liam is Elsa’s husband,” Emma explained. “Henry, please go turn the burner off under the hot cocoa so it won’t burn.”

“If it’s ready, can I pour some…”

“Absolutely not. Do not touch the pan or anything else; just the knob for the burner.”

“But I…”

She put her arm around his shoulders. “After you turn off the stove, why don’t you go ahead and put your pajamas on. Just give me a couple of minutes to speak to Mr. Jones, okay?”

“You did a fine job on your drum solo tonight, lad,” Killian said.

Henry’s face brightened. “Do ya really think so?”

“Aye. You were the star of the show.”

A wide grin split the boy’s face. “Thanks! I practiced a lot!”

“Your mother told me you did. Practice makes perfect, they say.”

“I guess so. We can be in band next year and I want to play percussion.”

Killian snuck a glance at Emma, who closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. With difficulty, he kept from laughing, before answering, “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.”

“At least one of us will,” Emma mumbled, before reminding Henry about turning off the stove.

“Bye, Mr. Jones. Merry Christmas!” Henry shouted on his way out of the room.

“Merry Christmas to you, lad.”

“So, um, not to sound rude, but why are you here?” Emma asked as soon as they were alone.

He tried not to fidget as he thought of what to say. “I…I really enjoyed talking to you this evening.”

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.”

Encouraged, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s good to hear. So, I was wondering if…if you would consider going out with me.”

“On a date?” she asked, brows shooting up.

“Aye, that’s the idea.”

“I can’t…”

Killian felt his stomach drop.

“...even remember the last time I went on a date.”

“Perhaps we should remedy that,” he suggested hopefully.

Emma pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it in contemplation. “I don’t know…”

“Go out with him, Mom!” Henry yelled from the kitchen.

“Really, kid?” Emma said, clearly exasperated.

Henry poked his head around the door frame. “I like him.”

“Weren’t you told to put your pajamas on?”

“I will. I just accidentally heard what Mr. Jones said.”

Emma crossed her arms and gave him a patented ‘mom look’. “Accidentally, huh?”

He shrugged. “I have good hearing.”

“Only when you want to have it,” she stated. “Now, go do as you were told.”

“Okay,” he sighed, trudging down the hallway to his room.

She turned back to Killian, dropping her arms to her sides. “Looks like you have my kid’s approval.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “What about you, Emma? Do I have your approval, too? Elsa said she would be happy to watch Henry for you if we go out.”

She hesitated, then lifted her chin decisively. “Yes, Killian. I would love to go out with you.”

*********

One year later…

Killian followed Emma down the aisle of the auditorium and grinned when he realized what seats she chose. After sitting down, he draped his arm around her shoulders and leaned over to murmur in her ear, “These seats seem familiar, Love.”

She snuggled against his side. “They’re very special, because this is where I met the love of my life.”

“What a coincidence,” he teased. “This is where I met mine, too.”

Elsa and Liam slid into the seats in front of them. “Hello, lovebirds,” Elsa grinned.

“Don’t encourage them,” Liam cautioned. “I already have to witness far too much PDA from those two.”

“You don’t have to watch, you know,” Killian said, lightly whacking the back of Liam’s head.

“Both of you behave,” Elsa said, as Emma giggled.

“Speaking of behaving,” Killian began, “do you think your daughters will make it through the concert without assaulting each other this year?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Liam said. “I caught Missy trying to hit her sister over the head with her flute the other day.”

“Be happy it wasn’t the other way around,” Emma commented. “Alice could do some serious damage with her saxophone.”

They were still laughing when the fifth grade band shuffled onto the stage in all their Christmas finery, instruments held proudly in front of them. Emma and Killian immediately spotted Henry taking his place behind the snare drum. He smiled and gave them a quick wave before picking up his drumsticks.

“He looks so grown up,” Emma said quietly.

“Your little drummer boy isn’t very little anymore,” Killian observed fondly. He and Henry had a very close relationship and he loved the boy as his own.

“A lot has changed in the past year,” she sighed happily.

“Aye, Love. It’s been phenomenal in every way.”

Mary Margaret, who also instructed the fifth grade band along with teaching elementary music, walked out onto the stage, preparing to introduce their first song.

Emma settled against Killian’s side to enjoy the concert. A year ago, sitting in these very seats, neither of them could ever have imagined what that first meeting would mean to them.

As the band began playing Jingle Bells, Killian pulled Emma a little closer. His chest swelled with pride watching Henry concentrating on his music, as he beat out the rhythm on the drum. This year, Emma hadn’t had to endure his incessant practicing alone, since Killian moved in with them just before Thanksgiving.

Emma saw Killian glancing at his watch once the third and final song ended. “Are you anxious to leave? You know we still have to sit through the sixth grade and junior high bands, don’t you?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m aware. I was just trying to gauge what time it will be over.”

“I’d say the concert will last about an hour,” Liam threw over his shoulder.

Killian slumped a bit in his chair. Then he caught sight of Henry, who was sitting in a reserved section to their right with the rest of the fifth grade band. The boy beamed at him and gave him a thumbs up. Killian winked and returned his smile.

Last year, the evening of Henry’s concert ended with Killian asking Emma out on their first date. This year, he had a different question to ask when they got home, one for which Henry had already given his approval.

He hoped her answer would be the same as last year. If so, they would be sitting in these seats next year as husband and wife.

Kissing her temple, Killian impatiently waited for the sixth grade band to begin playing. He intertwined their fingers, imagining how her hand would look with the diamond engagement ring on it. When she turned her face up to look at him, love shining in her eyes, he knew the beauty of the diamond would pale in comparison to the lady wearing it.

*********

Liam’s estimate for the length of the concert was right on the nose. When they finally walked out of the auditorium, light snow was falling. The conversation in the car on the way home was warm and playful. Henry laughed about the sixth grade percussionist who dropped one of the cymbals in the middle of a song, and expressed his hope that when he got older, he would be the one to make the whip sound for Sleigh Ride.

“Lord, help us through seven more years of band,” Emma murmured under her breath, causing Killian to laugh, despite the nerves that were knotting his stomach.

As soon as they got home, Henry went into the kitchen to get the ingredients out for hot cocoa, dubbing it a tradition after the Christmas concert.

“Is it a tradition if this is only the second time we did it?” Emma asked.

“I don’t know,” Killian answered, “but I do know of another tradition that’s been around much longer.” He pointed at the top of the doorway between the living room and kitchen.

“When did you put mistletoe up there?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“This evening while you were getting dressed for the concert.”

“You’re very sneaky,” she said, leaning in until her lips were just a fraction of an inch away from his.

“And you love me for it,” he grinned.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed before kissing him.

“Pre-teen boy coming through,” Henry announced, squeezing past them. “I’m going to put my pajamas on. Please be done making out by the time I get back.”

Emma and Killian laughed into their kiss. “I think we’re scarring him for life,” he quipped.

“That’s what parents are for,” she replied.

Killian pulled back to look at her. “You consider me to be his parent?”

“You’re more of a father to him than Neal has ever been.”

He surged forward to kiss her again. When it finally ended, he asked, “Do you think Henry regards me that way, too?”

“I’m sure he does.”

“Does what?” Henry asked, re-entering the room, now dressed in plaid Christmas pajamas.

“Do you think of Killian as one of your parents?” Emma asked.

“Well, duh,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Can we make hot chocolate now?”

Emma tried to give Killian a look that said I told you so, but he was gazing at Henry with a sense of wonder over the boy’s declaration.

Once the cocoa was gone and Henry was off to bed, Killian and Emma lay together on the sofa. The living room was lit only by the gas fireplace and the lights from the Christmas tree, while Christmas music played softly.

“This is nice,” she sighed.

He hummed in agreement, stroking his hand up and down her back. His thoughts were preoccupied with the perfect way to propose, so he almost missed what she said next.

“Marry me, Killian.”

His hand on her back stilled as his mind registered what she just said. “Wh-what?”

She pushed up on her elbows to look into his face. “Marry me.”

“Swan, you’re depriving me of a dashing proposal!” he protested.

She cocked her head, studying him. “Are you serious?”

He slid out from under her to kneel on the floor in front of the couch, reaching into the pocket of his sleep pants to retrieve the ring and holding it up for her to see.

Her eyes widened as she swung her feet down to the floor. “Oh. My. God. You really were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Aye.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Mad? Why would I be mad? Since you asked me first, I’m pretty sure I know what your answer is going to be,” he chuckled.

“You still have to ask. That’s the rule.”

“Whose rule?”

“Mine. Now, let’s hear that dashing proposal.”

He grinned, then cleared his throat. “Emma, you and Henry have changed my life in every way possible. I never knew happiness like this even existed, let alone that it would happen to me. There aren’t enough words in this world to express how much I love you, but right now, there’s only one word I need to hear in response to this question - Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes when she opened her mouth to answer, but emotion clogged her throat, so she nodded emphatically and threw her arms around him. As he held her tight, kissing her and murmuring words of love, she finally found her voice. “Yes, Killian, I will marry you! I love you so much!”

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “Henry and I are very lucky to have you in our lives. I know I’m speaking for him too when I say we want you to be part of our family forever.” Framing his face with her hands, she leaned in to kiss him again.

“Do you want the ring?” he asked against her lips.

She giggled and sat back, extending her left hand to him. He slid the ring into place and kissed her knuckle above it.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed.

“You are perfect, my love.”

“Says the man who complains when I leave wet towels on the floor,” she teased.

“Well…nearly perfect,” he grinned.

She held her hand up to admire the ring, the lights of the Christmas tree making the diamond glitter. “We’re engaged,” she said, awestruck.

“Mmhmm. Who would have thought that a little drummer boy and two feuding reindeer would bring us together and give us a happy ending?”

Her eyes met his, laughter and love dancing in them. “Best night of my life, hands down. Until today,” she amended.

Kissing the tip of her nose, he whispered, “Happy Christmas, wife-to-be.”

“Merry Christmas, husband-to-be.”

He stood up and took her hand to help her to her feet. Then they went to their bedroom to share the best gift of all - the love they had for each other.

*********

My heartfelt wishes for all of you to have a blessed and memorable Christmas!

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

@apiratewhopines @hollyethecurious @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate

@caught-in-the-filter @stahlop @veryverynotgoodwrites @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite

@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones @cssecretsanta2020

[essycogany]

Long Lasting Loyalty 🪱

Would Sonic still love Amy if she was a worm? This story came to my mind because of this post by @lazorbeanz. Thank you!

The writing style is inspired by the amazing writer and artist @justdoodlekat. If anyone is interested in seeing her work, here’s the link. Her Boom!Sonamy stories helped me get into writing, so please read them whenever you get the chance. She’s a wonderful writer!

I hope you enjoy the fic, everyone!

[skylariumrose]

My Dragon-Kaiju Wife

Life after the KDF mecha bomb has been peaceful.

Ken's finally gotten some sleep, his home has been rebuilt, and he's settled into being a dad, a hero, and a son with an ease he's never felt before.

So of course he throws his calm life into chaos when he answers a question at an interview a little too truthfully. He just wasn't expecting to have an actual out because of it.

I fell face first into this world because not only kaijus (the best!), super sized mecha like heroes (also bomb), but my favorite trope too! Accidental Baby Acquisition!!!

Hope I can write something as cute and fun as Emi! Please enjoy!

[suguruslut]

You're sick

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴

<<< 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪🐉| 𝙏𝙤𝙧𝙖🐅| 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙖🐕 >>>

HC Prompt: you're sick and your man is taking care of you

🐉𝒯𝒶𝓉𝓈𝓊🍳

– As seen in the manga, Tatsu has all the remedies for a cold on hand. He’ll ask you 30+ questions about each symptom you’re experiencing, and from there will decide which home remedies can help you feel better. If you live through the initial interrogation, I’m sure they’ll prove useful

– Tatsu definitely hides his fears by doing anything and everything possible to help you. He won’t sit still for even a moment, constantly making food or cleaning or checking on you; anything to avoid negative thoughts, like what if it isn’t just a cold, what if it’s something worse, what if it’s just a symptom of a far worse disease or illness?

– He absolutely cannot stand the thought of losing you, so Tatsu tends to be a bit dramatic when you’re sick. No moving, no eating or drinking whilst unsupervised, no medicines unless they’re okayed by him. You abide by these rules simply because you’re too tired to fight, and Tatsu knows a lot more about illnesses than you (or he’s just done more online research than you, lol)

– Beneath his intense, doctor-like attitude, Tatsu is actually very gentle with you. He’ll put on gloves and hold the tissue as you blow your nose, he’ll hold your water bottle to your lips and slowly tip it, he’ll put your blankets in the drier just to make them warm when you cuddle up in them

– “There ya are, little dragon…some nice, clean sheets for ya. And don’t even think about gettin’ up to get yer own tea–I’ll be back faster than you can say ‘limited time lettuce sale.’”

– none of the housework matters when his baby is sick. Unless dust or dirt is causing your issue, Tatsu will gladly get behind on his housework to take care of you, whether it’s getting you clean tissues, running out to get medicine or simply just sitting beside you, nervously watching over you and making sure you’re comfortable

– just imagining Tatsu giving you such a concerned, heartfelt look when you’re sick makes my heart ache ugh

– Although you’re achy and have a headache and just plain miserable from your cold, you perk up when Tatsu makes you homemade chicken soup. He smiles when he sees you enjoying his creation, sniffling as you thank him for the warm meal. Tatsu is always relieved when he can help eliminate your discomfort

– He won’t want to get too close when you have a cold, but if he has a mask handy he won’t mind hanging out with you for a while, silently wondering how you can possibly look so adorable even when your eyes are red and glossy, when your nose is runny and sticky…it only encourages him to do more for you, so Tatsu can see you thriving once more

– will distract you by telling you all the fun things he has planned for you two when you feel better; then Tatsu will turn on your favorite soap opera and watch with you (he watches it in secret, so he actually knows all the current plot lines, but still pretends to be shocked)

– Tatsu doesn’t mess around when you’re sick, and he’s the first to suggest you see a doctor when the cold doesn’t go away after a week; he’ll drag you there if need be, and writes down every single word the doctor says. He’ll even go so far as to mix your icky tasting medicine with something delicious–as long as it helps you feel better, Tatsu will go above and beyond

– trust me, you want this man around if you’re sick💓

🐅𝒯𝑜𝓇𝒶𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜🍰

– You tried to throw up quietly, but Tora has the hearing of a paranoid tiger, so there was no hiding your illness from him, to his concern and rage

– “Yer sick?! Who was it, {Y/N}?! Tell me who got ya sick! I’ll let em have it! I’ll let em know what it’s really like to be sick!”

– Tora remembers what his mother used to do for him when he caught the flu as a child, falling back on those blurry memories now; he rolls your shivering body into his thickest quilt, fixes you  umeboshi plum tea, puts an ice pack on your forehead and uses his huge hands to gently rub your upset tummy

– You worry about missing work, and about Tora not opening the crepe truck so he can take care of you, worries immediately shut down by Torajiro, who doesn’t want you worrying about anything other than getting better. He assures you with absolute certainty that missing a few days, or even a week of work isn’t the end of the world. Tora is convincing enough that the thought thankfully exits your brain after a few tiresome hours of anxiety and guilt

– Endless vomit? Tora is right beside you, holding your hair back and comforting you in a low, soothing tone, hiding how upset he is at your discomfort. He really hates seeing you in misery, vowing to be there until you’re 100% better. Tora’s scrunched, worried expression is really cute, so that helps you forget your embarrassment for a moment

– Knowing you love classical music, he’ll put on one of your favorite classical records, hoping it lures you into a much-needed slumber. If it doesn’t, he’ll still lie beside you on the couch and hum along to the song to keep you company. Sometimes, you’ll feel his rough fingers stroke your hair away from your sweaty temples

– Tora has a strong immune system, so he isn’t afraid of catching anything from you, ignoring your warnings. He’ll kiss your head, pull your shivering form against him to get you warm, trap you inside his big arms for hours until you have to throw up again

–Tatsu may have the best chicken soup recipe, but Tora’s okayu (Japanese rice porridge) is a force to be reckoned with. He’ll insist he feed you himself, encouraging you to eat even though you’re not hungry. “Tigers gotta keep up their strength” and all. If you refuse, Tora will give you a big wide eyed look until you cave and eat a few big bites of porridge

– Through the terrible nights of restless sleep, aches and painful vomiting, Tora is always alert, jumping to your side even when he should be resting himself. You feel bad for waking him up frequently, but he assures you it’s no problem. He knows what it’s like to be alone and sick, and never wants you to feel scared in case things take a turn for the worse

– Tora doesn’t like doctors himself, but if you’re the one who’s sick, you better believe he’ll drag you to the clinic if you haven’t gotten better after a few days. He hates to admit that he wasn’t able to cure you with his home remedies, but Tora will always put aside his pride if your well being is involved

– “Whatever my tiger needs, get it! I don’t care about the cost! I’ll burn her insurance company to the ground if I have to!”

– He’s actually a great guy to have around when you’re ill because of his tenacity and loyalty to his loved ones, so you don’t ever have to worry about him dipping out or making you feel guilty for getting sick

– And Tora wasn’t kidding about finding whoever made you sick. If he finds out it’s one of your coworkers, oof…watch out for the tiger🐅

🐕ℳ𝒶𝓈𝒶🥡

– Since Masa doesn’t work, he can stay home with you all day! Idk if this is a good thing, though, because Masa is very child-like himself, so it’s like being sick while looking after a toddler who’s trying to help you with their fake stethoscope

– You’ve got a runny nose, headache, plugged sinuses, sore throat and watery eyes, which Masa deduces from the symptom list Tatsu gave him that you have a cold. He’s had plenty of those before, but doesn’t exactly know how to care for someone with one; Masa usually just suffers until the virus eventually works its way out of his system

– Probably panics at first, because wtf does he know about medicine and illness?? What if he gives you the wrong thing and accidentally kills you? Masa will never be able to live with himself if he makes your cold worse because he’s an idiot

– Masa cares for you and he wants to help, though, so he goes to Google for advice. He doesn’t really know why sue-duh-fedd, ben’s a-drill and a face steamer will help, but if that’s what the guys on Reddit say, what could possibly go wrong? Reddit guys have helped him loads of times before…their advice is like a doctor’s advice to him

– Masa uses your card to buy a random assortment of medicines and machines that may help relieve your agony, rushing back and showing you each item, suggesting you try the face steamer first, because he thinks it’s the coolest. It does actually help you feel a bit better, even if it doesn’t really have any medical purpose, which boosts Masa’s confidence in himself

– “That’s why on the streets they call me The Doc.”

– With your nasally instructions, Masa is able to make you some black tea, and he takes it upon himself to make you ramen. Obviously you aren’t up to eating ramen, but Masa solves this by eating the noodles and leaving you the broth, which soothes your stinging throat. Hey, sometimes he’s a genius!

– Masa is oblivious to how he’s getting germs all over himself in the process of taking care of you, grabbing your dirty tissues, touching his face after touching yours, drinking out of your waterbottle for goodness sake…he claims he’s untouchable because he’s been drinking protein shakes like there’s no tomorrow

– the boy will literally try to kiss you full on the lips to “cure you.” dumbass. At least he’s a lovable dumbass

– Masa knows he’s lousy at taking care of people (and the house, and himself), but he really does want to relieve your suffering. He’ll shove all sorts of medicines down your throat in hopes it will magically cure your stuffy nose. He’ll listen to whatever the Redditers tell him, and definitely tries to get you to attempt their bizarre and just plain silly remedies

– “Okay babe, now b00bMILF3r says to stick one finger in your ear, then hold your breath while drinking water with cayenne pepper in it!”

– When you become tired from these odd suggestions, Masa will get quiet and sit beside where you’re lying on the couch and slowly run a hand over your leg in comfort. He may sneak a video game in or two, but he’ll constantly be glancing over at you to see if you’re okay, and he’ll keep his cheers down to a minimum

– he cringes everytime you blow your nose, but always gets you a new box when you run out, Googling every few minutes to check if someone came up with a cure for the common cold. Masa is upset when they haven’t, and wonders if it’s too late for him to become a scientist. You’re touched by his sudden ambitions, but think he should just stick to being morally supportive

– You’ll probably both end up being sick by the end of the week, lol, but at least then you can bum around in bed together and watch fun videos online to pass the time until you feel better

🐉 🐅 🐕

Househusband Headcanon Masterlist

[chococara25]

Tidbit Tuesdays

Working on part two of the Of Poltergeist and Sweet Treats

(Truly, I'm just stuck with the ending 😅)

-----------

“You look better these days.” Buck looked up from his phone to see Bobby standing beside him by the island in the kitchen. “More settled.” He was worried that after the break-up with Tommy and Eddie left for El Paso, Buck would dramatically spiral (especially with his current baking obsession; one that had struck fear for all of 118’s collective waistlines) but it seems he was dealing well with everything currently going on in his life. 

Must be a sign of maturity. 

“I’m glad you’re doing okay.” Bobby gave him a pat on the back before turning to the fridge, not noticing Buck’s guilty expression. He quickly turned back to his phone, staring at Tommy’s google calendar obsessively, planning for his next heist.

[zanazirafanfic]

Fic: "The Other White Meat"

Warnings: None Rating: General Audiences Category: Gen Fandom: Horizon (Video Games) Relationships: Erend & Kotallo, Erend & Varl & Zo Characters: Kotallo, Erend, Varl, Zo, Talanah Khane Padish Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 1.0k

Summary: "'So, uh... Do you Tenakth still do the whole 'cannibalism' thing, like everyone says back east?'

Varl nearly choked on his bite of meat.

'Erend!' Zo hissed, mortified, while Talanah glared daggers at him across the fire.

Quirking an eyebrow, Kotallo pinched a mushroom between his teeth and slid it delicately off the end of the skewer. 'Only on Fridays.'"

In which Kotallo reaches the Base, meets some of his new squadmates, and unwittingly makes a friend.

Read it here on AO3

[seven-n-wolf]

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Relationship: Nanami Kento / Zen'in Naoya, Nanami Kento / Gojo Satoru

AU: canon divergence, almost everyone lives

Summary:

There is only one thing Nanami Kento wants to walk out of his arranged marriage with: his bread maker.

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 140

"What?" Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow. "I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats. "How-" "You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning." "...You were a werewolf this whole time?" "..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie." "Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?" "No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross." "...You've not transformed in towns, have you?" "No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained." A long pause settles between them. "You want me to guard you?" "Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt." Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't. Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it. "You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied. Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising. "It's coming- I'm going to be a beast." Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes.... In... Into a songbird? sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it. Him. Oh my gods. Jaskier's not a werewolf. He's a... were.... werebird... And not even a scary one. Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough. "Jaskier, it's too deep." He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings. "Jaskier, you're going to-" Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands. Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.

[tiredfloridianbutverygay]

Family game night again, which for Raven means players arguing over rolls and the rules. For Summer, it means spending time with her family and her youngest's new girlfriend. For Ruby, it means being embarrassed by her moms.

for @rosebird-week

[writer-rider-flirty-thirties]

Chat Noir is going to be training a newbie hero: Purple Tigress! He's nervous about having to teach her the ropes. Turns out, he had as much to teach her as he had to learn from her.

Fanworks Anniversary 2022

[frontmansdefender]

[merthurao3recs]

The Games We Play

Author: eldee

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7,321

Details: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gilli (Merlin), Freya (Merlin), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Magic Modern AU, Community: Glomp_Fest.

Summary: This is the day that Merlin is going to seduce Arthur Pendragon to the back of the pub so that he can get on his knees and give him a blowjob. Merlin is determined in this quest.