#someone write ff of him plea

[thisismeracing]

Haunted | LH44 (patreon preview)

― Pairing: Ghost!Lewis x fem!reader ― Warnings: +18; suggestive content and graphic description of sex (fingering and dirty talk); mentions of cheating; description of horror situations and stabbing (but not too graphic).  

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It was a cursed house.

The tale was that a rich man used to live there. He was beautiful. So beautiful the whole town knew who he was. He was also warm and compassionate, he would help old ladies with bags, walk the neighbor’s dog, share his famous coffee whenever he had the time, and help the young boys with driving classes. But his beauty was also his curse because someone’s wife fell in love with him, and as the saying goes, there are two things you cannot hide properly: a cough and a burning love. It wasn’t even a week after the man noticed how his lady would eye the town’s treasure. It was possible the young gentleman didn’t know about this infatuation, but the woman’s husband knew and it was enough for him to stab the man to death in the most brutal way. Rumor had it he tried to get up and walk, but he could only make it to the door of his room, his body collapsing and succumbing to death minutes after agonizing with his own blood. The houses were far one from the other, but his screams were so loud some of the neighbors heard them even after he passed away, haunted by his pleas they moved. 

The house went for sale, and someone even bought it a year after the crime, but they did not last for a week, the ghost of the dead man haunted the place day and night moving things, opening and closing doors, as if inviting whoever was there to leave, and when his requests were not obeyed, he would riot. In the night, his screams would get louder, he would grab their feet, play with the TV’s remote, boil water, and let the windows open. 

They say he’s an angry ghost, a miserable one because he never got to experience true love. He was killed before he could, and so he closed himself on the house he took so much care while in life. His garden was the most beautiful one. Full of dark roses, and big trees, but once he died so did the flowers. It was like everything rotted. 

Yn sighed thinking about the story an old lady told her when she went to get groceries. The woman went as far as advising her to leave the house, the money be damned. But of course, Yn wouldn’t do it. The house cost money for her and her husband, Eric. And besides, she had always been curious about ghost stories. Never truly believed how dangerous it could get.

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[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Annniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard: Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 06

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Chapter 6

The Rajputs had organized a puja for the betterment of their younger son's married life, one day before the wedding.

The Maliks were also present with the future bride. Aman and Anjali had known each other since childhood. When their friendship turned into love, they couldn't tell, but they were glad that it happened, and their elders had also blessed their union. Thinking about them, Khushi couldn't help but exhale a heavy sigh, wishing things would have turned out similarly for her too.

Her Amma's voice broke her distraction, "Titliya, ja sab ko bulake la. The puja is about to start and call Arnav too. Tell him I asked him to come downstairs and sit in the puja." knowing very well that Arnav wouldn't reject his Roma chachi.

Suvadra Malik snapped in response to the comment, "Why invite someone to a puja who doesn't believe in God? Main nahi chahti ke us nastik ke aulad ke bajayse yeh puja barbad ho jaye. I only want good things to come to my Anjali Bitiya's married life."

Khushi was about to protest when her amma caught her hand and quietened her with a shake of her head. When Khushi looked at Suvadra the next moment, she realized everybody was already there. The dark look that fell across Arnav's handsome features made her realize that his Nani's rebuke hadn't escaped him.

Arnav never cared much about religion, Seeing his mother on her knees, praying day and night for the betterment of his father, filled him with a mix of hope and desperation. Her whispered pleas, her tear-streaked face, and her unwavering faith became a haunting backdrop to his childhood. Yet, despite her devotion, his father betrayed her, shattering their family. That betrayal caused his mother to choose death over her children. The bitter irony of it all—the unanswered prayers, the blind faith met with infidelity—gnawed at him. He felt abandoned, not just by his parents but by the very idea of a benevolent higher power. In that crushing moment of disillusionment, he swore off religion, cursing the heavens that had turned a deaf ear to his mother’s relentless prayers.

But despite his disbelief in these "riti riwaj", he was determined to ensure his sister's wedding proceeded smoothly. He chose not to give his Nani any reason to cause a scene, prioritizing a seamless and joyful celebration for his sister.

Seeing no other vacant place, Arnav sat beside Khushi. As the puja concluded and the crowd dispersed, Khushi subtly shifted towards Arnav, her voice lowered to a whisper.

"I am sorry you have to hear that.''

''I won't have to tolerate her after tomorrow, now will I?'' he stated, rolling his eyes.

Khushi smiled at his somewhat optimistic yet sarcastic tone of voice. "For that, I am glad."

After sometimes she started again, "She is wrong you know" when she didn't elaborate, Arnav looked at her with questions in his eyes.

"You are not your father-" she stressed " You never will be"

"How do you know?"

She chuckled, "For a change, I know you better than her and - " she paused to gather herself.

''and I believe in you.''

She gazed at him as a soft, tender expression crossed his face, conveying a multitude of unspoken emotions. She yearned to convey to him the significance he held in her life. With wistful thoughts, she silently mused if only he could see himself through her eyes. She hoped for her unexpressed feelings to reach him, emanating from the depths of her heart.

She looked so pretty today, with a green-bordered yellow saree and a green bindi. Of course, Arnav noticed. She had flowers in her braid that day. Arnav's heart gave a twist as the reason drawn to him.

'Can you sit idly and watch while someone else takes her away?' the voice wondered.

'Shut up,' he said, closing his eyes momentarily. But he couldn't ignore the intoxicating aroma emanating from her. He realized it was partly her and partly the flowers, and decided that he liked her smell the most when it was purely hers, without mixing with anything else.

Buaji spent the entire morning urging her to get ready. She styled her hair and adorned it with flowers. Even though it was a simple piece, her Amma's gold necklace felt like a heavy burden around her neck. She didn't want to dress up for Mr. Ganguly. Every fiber of her being rebelled against the thought of establishing someone else's 'haq' over her. It felt like a part of her was being torn away. How could she make Buaji understand that she was no longer fit for anyone else in the world, no matter how many flowers she pinned in her hair? That He had ruined her for all other men.

One time when she was 14, a similar puja for the betterment of crops was ruined. That ceremony took place in a field slightly far from the village. All of them went there and Khushi was so excited to see all the jalebi and golgappa stalls. However, all the merriments were disrupted by a dacoit attack. People were panicking and running to and fro. When the dacoits attempted to grab Khushi and Manoroma, Akash Vai and Arnav intervened. This resulted in one of the dacoits hitting Arnav on the head, causing a lot of bleeding. Fortunately, the dacoit attack was brought under control by the timely arrival of the village people.

They rushed to the Rajput Haveli and a doctor was called. He examined Arnav's head and face and found out the source of the bleeding. It looked like except for the cut below his left eyebrow, his head and the rest of his face were unscratched. The doctor stitched the cut. The cut wasn't too deep, but he lost lots of blood as it was on the face and soon after developed a nasty infection. The whole household didn't sleep that night. Manoroma spent the night sitting beside him as he kept shivering due to a high fever. Khushi didn't know what to do but stared at him from the corner of the room. Buaji kept saying, it was difficult for him to survive the night. Khushi prayed to Devi Maiya repeatedly and even swore on her life to save him. When he opened his eyes the next day, she cried out of relief. Even though weak he asked her why she was crying.

"I don't want the dacoit to take you away too," she said. To this, he laughed meekly "Don't worry, Phati Sari, You aren't going to get rid of me anytime soon."

As Khushi was watching Arnav helping the workers set up the mandap, she silently wondered whether he would make such a promise to her if she asked again.

Arnav was always like that: always helping around the house. He assisted Babuji in the garden, did the grocery shopping, and took on big responsibilities in arranging every event. These were not his tasks, but he did them anyway. In doing so, he exuded a commanding and authoritative aura, as if everyone was supposed to bow to him and acknowledge the "laad governor" that he was. Khushi silently laughed at his demeanour. Laad Governor, Her Laad Governor. She mused fondly.

Arnav always demanded attention wherever he went, didn't he? She thought to herself, at least he had her full attention every single time. Whenever he walked into a room, the conversation stopped and a stunned silence filled the space. Only the 'dhak-dhak' of her heart remained. He made her feel exposed and safe at the same time.

She understood why he helped around the house so much. He wanted to show his gratitude for everything Babuji and Amma had done for him. It would be a shame as a best friend if she didn't understand that. And sometimes she wondered if this was the reason why he was not willing to consider them being together, or if he just couldn't see her as more than a friend. After all, falling in love with someone was not in one's hands. Maybe Arnav just couldn't love her as she loved him.

But one could never be certain about things like that, could they? Just like how wrong she was in her previous assessment of him not caring about whether she got married to another person or not. He clearly was affected; she just didn't know the extent of it or what to make of all this. For example, for the past half hour, he had been glaring at her and her companion, clenching his jaw, and grinding his teeth, making his jaw more prominent. Khushi couldn't help but speculate whether he was angry or jealous as she observed him closely. She didn't dare to hope for the latter reaction; she didn't want to build castles in the air.

With a heavy sigh, she shifted her focus to the man in front of her. Dhruv Ganguly was undeniably handsome; no one in a million years would deny that. Still, Khushi, sitting across from him, couldn't help but scrutinize him. Maybe Bua Ji was right; her 'sanak' had finally gotten to her head.

She couldn't help but notice how he had a round, clean-shaven face, unlike the angular one with stubble. He smiled too much, and his nose wasn't sharp enough. He didn't have a defined jawline, nor did he have piercing eyes that could hold her gaze and make her feel warm all over. His eyes didn't brighten with excitement when she spoke, or flash with rage when she contradicted him, or show amusement and curiosity when she spoke about her favourite book. His eyes didn't conceal any dark secrets either. Instead, he wore black-framed glasses and talked with a downcast gaze. He had a nervous tic of fixing his glasses with his index finger. And alas! His hands were all wrong too—too slender, too light-skinned, too soft-looking. Most importantly, this man couldn't raise his left eyebrow singly when he asked her something. Khushi chastised herself; she was nitpicking for the sake of nitpicking.

Dhruv Ganguly had no flaws. He was perfect: handsome, well-mannered, and well-educated, except for the absence of a scar right beneath his left eyebrow.

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@featheredclover @phuljari @arshifiesta @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @arshiradio @titaliya

[the-axe-and-flail]

So I'm reading the "One Winged Butterfly" light novel rn and the first chapter is all about Gyomei coming to terms with letting the Kocho sisters become slayers and some things I found very interesting in it-

Shinobu was making medicine when she was just a child. That's pretty damn impressive.

Gyomei was genuinely sad when Kanae died and kind of blamed himself (though he pushes it down to where it's no longer tangible or impactful).

Gyomei knew Shinobu was going to die when he saw her the last time before the Big Boom (tm) happened. He wanted to tell her to he safe but couldn't force himself to say it, as he knew it was a hollow plea, and never one to waste his words, he knew it didn't matter. It speaks to his personality that he really doesn't speak unless the words are with purpose and decision.

Gyomei was actually scared of kids after what happened at the monastery. Not like "oh I hate kids", but like "oh here are some kids I wonder how they'll demonize and terrorize me". Like he literally thought every child he'd meet after that would take the opportunity to ruin his life again. He wasn't just deeply hurt by that encounter, he developed an actual ptsd concerning children. Oof ouchie my heart. It really makes me want to write a fic where he grapples with this as a new father...

Gyomei was also resistant to ever being "happy" again in terms of quality bonding time. Like so many FF writers (myself included, no callout) portray him as someone who deeply loves quality time, but it's quite the opposite. He's scared of it and does everything in his power to deny and run from it. And from his gradual acceptance of the sisters, we see it is acts of kindness (their willingness to forage and cook to show him their gratefulness) that drive straight to his heart, as well as the strength of their determination.

The characterization of Gyomei in this is very very important for folks who like writing for him. It's got so much of what a truly cold and un-biddable person he is. He's more like Sanemi's mask. In fact I'd say these two are often portrayed as opposites (gyo acts more like written nemi and nemi, more like written gyo). It's very interesting to watch him open up to the sisters even in such a short little drabble and made me appreciate his character even more.

At his core, Gyomei is a man terrified of being on the receiving end of someone's accusations again (and with good reason) to the point he now lets it shape and control his entire life, with the sole exception of Kagaya. I've said this before, but he's a man who recognizes his trauma and understands that it's not good for him, but still chooses to make it his armor for fear of opening up and being hurt again. It makes him wholly unique in the world of KnY as being incredibly self-aware and yet openly self-destructive. He'd rather drive himself into an early grave than ever allow someone to hurt him again and arrhshslalehjjdk that hurts me.

This drawing is also just too cute

[x-0ophelia0-x]

cardigan (y/n‘s version)

pairing: Fem!Reader x Ezra Bridger

warnings: none, sad I guess?

word count: 2,3 k

song: Cardigan - Taylor Swift

summary: He brought the light into your life just to disappear without any trace. People underestimated you because you were young, telling you that you know nothing and you didn’t cope well enough, but even if you questioned yourself if you really knew him. Towards the end you did. You were right about him after all.

authors note: Soo this is my first attempt to write a ff based on a songs lyric and holy moly I got carried away! I‘m posting sooner then I mentioned before due to the fact that I forgot that I got to stay at home today ;D

I hope that you‘ll enjoy this format bc I‘m definitely going to write more lyric ff‘s xd

But I’d be more then happy to get to know your opinion about this 🫶🏻

with that said, enjoyyy <3

Walking through the corridors, with the data pad in your hands.

Accepting every mission you got, hoping that those extra credits would manage to somehow help you. 

You were fighting for something, something that not even you quite understood.

Helping the Rebellion was dangerous and you knew it. 

Your life had gotten worser, being chased by imperial scum wasn’t really something that you needed right now.

As for right now, you had more near death experiences then lucky ones.

But something deep within you seemed to want you to keep going.

Even if you yourself didn’t see it., others did.

Some described it as their light, their pathfinder, something so precious to them that they gave everything to keep this light… the fire… far from extinguishing. 

Keeping it alive was the most important task.. it didn’t only symbolize the hope you were all fighting for, it was your only chance for freedom and justice at the very same time.

However, even if the rebellion was lacking in volunteers, they always seemed to know everything about politics, the making of strategies, even the sacrifices they’d have to make. 

You had collected some years there, knew some things that’d be helpful by now but whenever you requested the higher ranks to let them help you, your pleas fell on deaf ears.

Of course. 

When you are young, they assume you know nothing

One day though everything changed. 

Your routine, your way of thinking, your life… everything.

From the moment when this green Twi‘lek stepped into your cabin, telling you that her crew needed someone who knew how to fight against the Empire, how they thought.. someone who’d help them organize their missions, everything changed. 

After you accepted her offer, she led you to her ship where the rest of the crew was. 

There was a man, a Lasat, a Mandalorian and an droid.

The Twi‘lek wasn’t pleased though, and you soon found out why.

„Sorry I‘m late!“

A blue haired boy arrived, running to the ‚meeting‘.

„What did I tell you? Don’t let yourself get distracted!“

She seemed to be their captain, scolding the boy while he tried to steady his breaths. 

„I know.. but Hera.. I-„

„You what?“

„I thought that I got some informations on some blueprints regarding the empires new TIE Fighters.. turns out that they were drunk.. took some time until I realized this“

He held his hand up to his head, looking nervously at her until he moved his head to the side, catching your gaze for the first time.

It seemed as if the time itself had stopped when your eyes met.

Maker.. he was handsome.

Just before Hera could’ve said anything in return, he reached his hand out to yours.

„I‘m Ezra Bridger.. I assume that you’re our new crewmember?“

His voice was so warm and gentle, actually comforting.

Taken aback by his approach you needed some seconds to register what was happening. 

„Yes, I‘m y/n“

Your voice was somehow higher then you expected it to be, but oh my force… this boy..

From the very first moment you laid your eyes on him.. you knew that he’d become very special to you.

A lot of time passed from the moment where you joined the ghost crew and Ezra always managed to find a place for you two to spend your time together.

He grew very close to you and being completely honest.. nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to come. 

There were things that weren’t meant to happen.

Things that changed both your lives.

You escaped that hellhole of a life you lived for so long thanks to Hera and the crew.

And yes, for some time it actually seemed that your resistance was actually breaking through. 

Of course you only knew what you saw.. seeing what was happening inside of a person.. this skill was something only a few people could do.

It was impossible for people like you.

Hoping that you’d actually manage and succeed in your rebellion.. some looked at you and addressed you as delusional, your young age was an adding factor to their disbeliefs.

When you are young, they assume you know nothing.

The Person that grew very close to you.. even in a romantic way.. 

Ezra, the one person who told you his whole life‘s story, the person who listened to your voice as if there was no tomorrow.

You knew that there were people you were fighting with who shared the same goal as you, and still they were impossible to reach.

But I knew you

Or at least I thought I did.

-

The starlight illuminated your figures.

Ezra had offered you to go out and watch the night sky with him, to focus on the beauty that your galaxy had to offer.

It was a dark place and it was easy to feel lost, especially if you don‘t have people that look out for you.

Everyday‘s challenges distract us from seeing what’s right in front of us. 

Hidden by the empires cruel tactics was a beautiful Galaxy, a Galaxy that shouldn’t live by fear.

You didn’t understand it at first, thinking that it was the right thing to help the rebellion, even if you didn’t know why.

Everyone spoke of a light, a flame that managed to keep you all fighting for what was important to you. 

You didn’t have something to lose, you were alone.

Seeing this light was nearly impossible for you, how could you?

Your only interactions with people were these where you accepted some missions to get some more credits.

Not more and not less.

That day however changed everything.

You could swear that from the moment on where you looked into Ezra’s eyes… those beautiful mirrors into your soul.. was the first time where you felt that there may be someone worth fighting for.

Let‘s say that your guess turned out to be true.

„Are you alright?“

He broke the silence, sensing that you, once again, were lost in your thoughts. 

„Ah- oh- sorry, yes“

There was an awkward silence between you two as you continued to watch the night sky. You were leaning to his side as he wrapped his arm around you holding you close.

„What’s going on in that little head of yours?“

There was a sly grin on his face as he was looking at you.

„Did you just call my head little, Bridger?“

„I may have.. I may have not.. who knows“

„Ezra..“

„Yes Milady?“

„I‘m willing to forgive you, under one condition“

„There’s a condition? Aren’t I as your boyfriend a reason enough for you to forgive me my.. ehm“

He was thinking.., oh force what was he thinking again.

„Ehm what?“

„What did I do wrong again?“

He let out a nervous chuckle as you once again reminded yourself how he managed to win your heart, a coping mechanism you created for yourself whenever he found fun in playing with your temper. 

„Okay okay I‘m kidding.. what’s your request?“

„We’ll… I‘ll forgive you if you kiss me“

Ezra didn’t actually do something wrong, it was more of an inside joke between you two whenever you felt the tension grow.

„Damn y/n, you didn’t have to turn this into a condition, you know that I’d kiss you regardless the situation“

Oh you’d give everything to just have a few more seconds with him.

To see him again, hear his voice, feel his warmth.

He always managed to make you feel wanted whenever you were doubting yourself again.

Always managed to show you how important you were to him.

You had nightmares? Fears?

He was always there to comfort you, take you in his arms and cuddle you until you fell asleep, making sure that his girl wouldn’t be suffering in her dreams anymore. 

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

You assumed that you knew everything, at least the most important things to you.

Assumed that he’d stay by your side forever.

Oh boy… you fell hard

But I knew you

Little did you know that he’d be gone very soon.

Playing hide and seek whenever you once again pranked Zeb or Chopper.

Spending your weekends together, exchanging stories of your adventures, try to sing only to realize that your voices are horrible when it comes to singing.

I knew you…

To kiss in Lothals’s fields and downtown bars was all you needed.

He drew stars around your scars and now your bleeding.

You looked at them and they immediately reminded you of him, how he kissed each  making sure that he didn’t miss on a single one, just to let you know that he was there for you.

That the times of your suffering would’ve come to an end and that he’d take care of your scars, the physical and psychical ones until all of those dark memories vanished from your mind.

‚Cause I knew you‘

Stepping on your last train, marked me like a bloodstain

I, I knew you

Tried to change the ending

Thrawn losing the game, saving his Planet, his Galaxy, his newfound family… you from his threat.

I knew you

Which was your biggest mistake.. thinking that you knew everything about him, about his thoughts when in reality you only assumed that everything was alright.

How long did he know what he was going to do.. how many times did he look into your eyes while you cuddled, talked or shared kisses, knowing that leaving you behind was an consequence he had to accept.

He wanted- no, needed you to be safe, even if it meant that he wouldn’t be there for you, causing you emotional pain, leaving you behind and possibly reopen your scars… hell those odds were terrible but he had the chance to get rid of Thrawn, even if he’d be far away or possibly dead, you’d be a little safer and this was enough for him.

Everyone tried to tell you to calm down, that he did the right thing, ignoring your responses because they had higher ranks, were older and automatically knew everything.

When you are young they assume you know nothing

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss

I knew you’d haunt all of my what-ifs

Ten years had passed, the longest decade of your life.

Those what if‘s haunted you in your dreams, actions and basically tortured you throughout those ten years.

What would’ve happened if you followed him back then?

What would’ve happened if you somehow sensed his unease?

What would’ve happened if he stayed on Lothal?

What would’ve happened if you had more time together?

Of course you didn’t notice his shift in his behavior, how he seemed more stressed at the beginning of his last mission… more stressed then you‘ve seen him in your entire relationship.

You didn’t look past his cover because you thought that you knew him well enough.

‘Cause I knew everything when I was young

Hope however never managed to leave you, and there were a few things you at least knew. 

I knew I‘d curse you for the longest time

Knowing that he did all of this just to keep you safe, to grant you a chance against the empire, to free his planet, you still decided to curse him for the first months.

„He left me!“

„Oh y/n..“

Sabine and Hera were your anchors, you couldn’t imagine what you’d have done if it wasn’t for them.

„We’ll find hi-„

„How?!“

It was one of your outbursts again, when everything felt as if it was pushing you down, it was just to much.

„Why… why didn’t he tell me something..?!“

„Hey hey, come here“

Hera guided you into her embrace, trying to calm you down as you cried, one of the many episodes you had after Ezra’s disappearance.

„This Idiot..! He’d be still here if he-„

„Thrawn too, don’t forget this, please…“

Sabine brought you a glass of water and laid it on the small desk beside you.

„He‘ll come back… Ezra has to..“

Hearing this broke Heras heart for you, you and Ezra grew so so close to her heart, just like Jacen did, you two were like her own children to her.

With one missing and the other one broken? She was helpless.

But hearing you ensuring yourself that he’d come back hit another breaking point, both for her and Sabine.

And as the years passed you started to forgive him, understand that you were alright thanks to him.

You started to see him in the most random places, chasing the wrong persons because you assumed that they were him. Your desperate state reached a level you didn’t know existed.

Ten years and your hope was still there.

You knew that you had to be strong, if not for you then for him.

You knew that sinking into the what ifs would only destroy everything Ezra fought for, for you.

You knew that he was somewhere out there.

And I knew you’d be standing in my front porch light

And I knew you’d come back to me

Even if you imagined your reunion a little bit more different.

Even if he left you for 10 years without telling you a thing about his plan.

Even if he risked you to find another man during his time off.

You were right.

You’d come back to me

And you’d come back

„Ezra…!“

„y/n..“

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

[randomnesswithsundar]

小白 (xiao bai) (blanca) screencaps

hey i managed to get some screencaps of blanca's reincarnation! (aka the loml) theyre free to use, no need for credit (unless you wanna, im not complaining)

the high quality versions are here

[silkylious]

Safe (Kaminari Denki x Reader)

Warnings: slight angst/insecurities, comfort, fluff Pairing: kaminari denki x reader Prompt: #58 “You make me feel safe”

A/N: idk why but i hc that kaminari is actually very insecure but jokes around and shit as a coping mechanism. can you sense the self projection here. hope you enjoy this, it was very fun to write!

You sprung forward, eyes wide awake with alarm. Your mind struggled to catch up with your body; phantom sensations still lingering on your skin, static scenes of vibrant blue flames scorched into your brain as your heavy breaths died down into a slightly more regulated rhythm. This was the fifth time this week. It’s been two full months since the training camp, two full months since you’ve moved into the dorms and you still weren’t over it yet. The nightmares just wouldn’t stop.

You plopped back down on the mattress, exasperated and thoroughly annoyed at having your precious slumber cut short. Again. Honestly, for such a prestigious school, U.A. has probably the worst counseling team you’ve ever seen­– or haven’t seen, because despite several of your classmates showing painfully obvious signs of trauma, the school staff has barely stepped in. You huffed at the administration’s incompetence, turning on your side to glare at nothing in particular. A ping interrupted your train of thought, drawing your attention to the device laying on your nightstand. You snatched your phone, unlocking it and immediately squinting at the brightness before checking the time. Three in the morning. Who the hell would text you at ass o’clock in the morning? You knew who.

Pika pika⚡: [image] [image] [image]

some maymays for when you wake up 😌😌

You: they’re called memes ffs

Pika pika⚡: you’re awake??👀

You: no.

The message was left on seen, though the interface of the messaging up was replaced by that of an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, though a slight smile stretched your tired features at the picture of you and Kaminari grinning at the camera. You accepted the call.

“Why are you up?” His voice came through mildly distorted but still as loud as ever, too loud for three in the fucking morning.

“Can’t sleep,” Your answer was slightly muffled by a yawn, betraying just how exhausted you were. The silence that proceeded was deafening, neither of you uttering a word, but you could faintly hear his even breathing. It was oddly calming. You sigh, lids blinking to fight off your drowsiness.

“…You’re still having nightmares?” Words tinged with worry, his voice was much quieter now, gentler. If anything, Kaminari was a great friend. He’d proven that to you time and time again. He was the only one that could tell when you were drowning in hushed misery, seeing through your well-constructed front like it was second nature to him. For someone so astoundingly moronic, he was extremely socially intelligent, and even observant when he wanted to be. And for the umptieth time, he’s showing you just how easily he could pick up on the small traces of discomfort in your voice, the silent plea left unspoken from your lips.

“Yeah…” The reply didn’t come out as resolute as you’d wished it would have been. But it couldn’t be helped. No matter how hard you willed yourself to level your tone in hopes of fending off his concerns, you knew it would all crumble at some point. Go figure your strong façade would fall apart in front of him. It’s always been him. For some reason unknown to you (yet), confiding in him just felt right, secure.

More silence ensued.

Denki was a natural at detecting people’s emotions, but that’s as far as his expertise would go. Sure, he knew how to encourage others, pushing them past their insecurities was as easy as breathing to him. With bright, golden hues and an obnoxiously dorky grin, all he had to do was utter a few optimistic words and that would get the job done. But comfort? Vulnerability? That was so far beyond the shallow waters he’d grown accustomed to. Sentimentalities weren’t his thing, he simply didn’t posses the wisdom and eloquence needed to deal with such situations. His immediate reaction would be to crack a joke, fruitless attempts at lightening the mood but he knew there was a time and place for jests, and this wasn’t one of them. Awkwardness and half-hearted jabs were his immediate reaction… because that’s how he dealt with his own problems too.

“Hey… can I come over? We can play animal crossing or something,” You sure as shit wouldn’t be able to sleep, not in this state. You needed a distraction. A friend.

“What if we get caught?”

“Would you even care if we got caught?”

A light chuckle. “No,”

“Exactly. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The line went dead, he stared at the blank screen of his phone before flopping onto his back. Why you’d be so open with him of all people when he saw just how uneasy around his other classmates, he didn’t know. The list of people he thought were more deserving of your trust was almost unending, and he wasn’t even close to the top of it. One thought brought forward another, each one getting progressively more deprecative, and the sloppily sewn patch over his self-doubt started to tear, ripped off its poorly embedded stitches. He was confident in himself, until he joined class 1-A that is. He just felt… there compared to his peers. His body was nothing to laugh at, but his build was still considerably lean compared to the people he was around. The fact that such a talented, hardworking person had taken interest in him was frankly baffling. He wasn’t as flashy as Todoroki, or as powerful as Bakugo, or as brainy as Midoriya. He was just him. Lackluster, average him. It only added insult to injury when he’d witnessed how they looked at you. They pined for you, and he couldn’t blame them. He craved you too. But god, the nagging thought that you were wasting your time hanging around someone like him, that he was stealing you away from people who were (in his opinion) glaringly more worthy of cherishing you than him, it just wouldn’t go away. You had so many stronger, smarter, better options out there that he couldn’t help but be reminded of how lacking– inadequate he was compared to seemingly everyone else. And yet you chose to get close to him. In a superhuman class full to the brim with prodigies and workaholics, you picked him. It didn’t make the slightest bit of sense.

He was fished into reality and away from his sea of self-doubt when he heard three consecutive knocks on his door. Just how long had he laid there, wallowing?

The door creaked open and you were greeted with the glorious sight of Kaminari in a Pikachu onesie, a ruffled (adorable) tuft of electric, blonde hair peeking out from under the hood. You snorted.

“Nice pj’s,”

Denki blinked, looking down only to realize that he hadn’t changed out of his onesie because of his overthinking session. An embarrassed chuckle escaped him as he scratched at the side of his cheek, a lopsided smile and a cherry tint creeping up his complexion.

“What can I say, I always have to be on brand.”

You loved that about him. He seemed so laid-back, uncaring, willing to roll with whatever punches were thrown at him, playing off jocular comments and rude insults alike with practiced ease. Giggling past him, you situated on his bed, ready to forget about your nightmares and just have fun with your friend. And if Denki was a genius at anything, it was having fun.

Hours flew by at the pace of minutes, it was now six in the morning, the sun had begun to show its yellow glow and you’d spent the entirety of dawn kicking Kaminari’s butt at Mario kart, sharing laughs and fleeting touches. He liked this, you liked this. Despite knowing that he wasn’t by any means the best suitor for you, he couldn’t halt the need to monopolize you. How could he, when your very presence (unbeknownst to you) shoved his insecurities unceremoniously into the backseat in favor of enjoying the moment with you? He hadn’t a clue how you did it, but you always managed to shoo away his doubts just by being there, and he selfishly couldn’t (and wouldn’t) let go of that. You immersed him in riveting ventures of the now, miles and acres away from his overbearing thoughts. All without even trying, without even knowing it.

It was the weekend (thank fuck) and sleeping in sounded like heaven on earth right now. If it weren’t for your nightmares. The fear of recounting those horrid memories in horrific detail again barred your eyes from sleep, regardless of how spent you were. Apparently, Denki’s spidey-friendship senses kicked in again, because he immediately noticed the apprehension on your face, the stiffness in your movements as you were preparing to leave. He knew exactly what was up with you, and he couldn’t let you leave like that, it would eat him up for days. He grabbed your wrist as you turned for the door.

“Do you wanna stay?”

Maybe it was your exhausted mind finally turning into mush, or maybe it was the softness in his voice, the docile concern in his eyes that made you agree on staying. Your compliance surprised you both, honestly. You were both very aware that you wouldn’t have accepted the offer had it been anyone else. But in retrospect it seemed rational. After all, throughout the whole night, not once did you think back to the horrors that would visit you in your sleep, not once did you feel the crippling anxiety clawing at the frayed edges of your psyche. Instead you felt secure, sound. Safe. And you came to an epiphany. Maybe it wasn’t the idea of sleep that scared you, maybe it was the impending loneliness, isolation and uncertainty that you’d often experience without him.

“Yes,”

You laid there, facing each other, a considerable distance between you. No words exchanged, yet you could tell there was a lot on his mind. He decided to voice it all in one question. He knew you were smart enough to catch the underlying self-doubt in his vaguely worded inquiry. Whether you pointed it out or not was entirely up to you, however.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

The articulation caught you off guard, you’d never seen him so… unsure before. Your mind raced with the different possible implications behind his wording, though you decided to quell them all with one single sentence. You smiled, soft and lazy, moving closer to seek out some of his warmth.

“You make me feel safe, Denki.”

And he really did. Even though you came to the revelation mere minutes ago, you accepted it swimmingly, it felt right to do so. It startled you how ready you were to embrace the newfound feelings, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kaminari was stunned, to say the least. He hadn’t expected that response from you and he honestly still couldn’t rationalize it completely either. But for now, the budding feeling in his heart trumped over his ever-present uncertainty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Skyline Manor by GleefullyCaptainSwan Chapter 7/13

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 7: Off Limits

Killian felt the cold wind beating against his skin as he drove closer to the harbor. He hadn’t expected the evening to turn out like this, dinner with Henry and his mother was never on the agenda. He didn’t even know why he had accepted the offer from the boy. Perhaps it was his admission that his poem had been about him. This pirate who was lonely, with a broken heart, living in solitude. How did an eleven-year-old child learn all of that from him?

Perhaps the boy was paying more attention than he gave him credit for during his Q&A sessions they had while playing with Smee.

Killian had been touched that he thought enough of him to even write a sentence about him, but a full poem, what had he done to deserve the lad’s devotion?

Was Henry’s mother the princess? He banished the thoughts from his mind. Even if the kid wrote his tale about his mother and this pirate that was based on himself, Emma had a boyfriend. She was off limits, end of story.

He parked his bike in front of the restaurant, pulling his helmet from his head and staring at the door. He should go home. This was a bad idea.

It’s just pizza. Pizza with a kid and a woman who was unavailable. Harmless.

He checked in at the front, asked for a seat on the patio and was escorted to a table near the water. Killian closed his eyes, taking in the sounds of the seagulls, the smell of the nearby ocean, and felt himself relax.

“How did you know this was my mom’s favorite table?”

Killian laughed. “Just lucky I guess.”

He stood as Emma approached the table, pulling out the seat for the woman.

For no other reason except that he was a gentleman.

“Thank you.” She said, with a dip of her head, her lips tilting upward.

“So, what do you put on your pizza, and please don’t say pineapple.” Killian groaned, winking at the boy who sat down beside him.

“Eww, who puts pineapple on their pizza?” Henry groaned. “Just pepperoni, please.”

“If that’s what you want, then pepperoni is what you shall get. We are after all celebrating your success tonight. You were a star up there, lad.”

“Did ya hear that mom, I was a star.”

“Yes, kiddo, you really were.”

“Did Killian tell you that he bought a boat?”

Killian’s eyes met Emma’s, “He did not.” She stated as her eyebrow’s rose.

“Aye. Nothing fancy, just something I can take out on the water on my free time.”

“He named it the Jolly Roger, like Captain Hook, mom.” He said excitedly and Killian couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. He loved the boy’s enthusiasm.

“That’s very exciting.” Emma said slowly. “Sailing appears to be in your blood.”

“Aye, It’s the one place that brings me comfort and calm.”

Emma nodded. “There is something about the sound of the water, the way it crashes on the shore. The birds in the distance.”

“Do you sail?”

“Oh no, never. I mean, Neal was never interested, and Graham gets seasick.”

“And what about you?” He asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you told me how Neal and Graham feel about sailing, but what about you, love?”

“Only the one time…” She looked out at the water. “But I do love the water.”

“I want to learn how to sail.” Henry announced and Killian reached out without thinking to run his hand through the boy’s hair.

“Perhaps your mother will allow me to teach you one day.” He watched the woman, a soft smile on her lips as she kept looking out at the water. Her hair was blowing lightly with the soft breeze coming off the bay. She had a beauty about her that he couldn’t describe, and he found that he couldn’t stop staring at her. Every so often she would look up, catch him glancing in her direction, and smile softly, her gaze lingering for a moment before she looked away.

Around his second piece of pizza, he realized that they seemed to be playing a game, taking turns staring when the other wasn’t looking. He thought perhaps he was imagining it, but there was no mistaking it when her tongue darted out, brushing across her lips while she stared longingly at his own mouth.

He needed to put a stop to this before things got complicated. Women always came with complications.

~*~

Henry watched his mother and Killian make small talk at the table, his mother’s laughter coming more naturally than he was used to seeing from her. He sat back and let them talk, happy to see them interacting without his prompting.

He knew it would only be a matter of time before they realized they were a perfect match. Killian needed someone like his mother, someone who wouldn’t let him hide away from his life. And his mother needed Killian to show her how to live her life outside of her responsibilities. He just needed them to realize it.

As they rode up to the fourth floor on the elevator, he didn’t want the night to end. They were so close he could tell, so close to letting down their guard in front of each other. Showing the real people they were inside, without all the fake walls they both had built around themselves.

As they paused in front of their apartment, Henry paused at the door. “Do you know anything about gas stoves?”

“Aye lad, is there a reason you ask?”

Emma pushed the door open. “Henry, it’s fine, Graham can fix it on Tuesday when he comes over.”

“Is your stove broken?”

“I can’t get the pilot to light. I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.” His mother responded nervously.

“I’d be happy to take a look, I’d hate for you…for the lad to be without a stove until Tuesday.”

“Are you sure?”

“What are neighbors for?” He grinned.

“Ok.” She pushed open the door and Henry ran inside. “I’m tired, I’m going to go to bed. Night.” He ran off to his bedroom, ignoring his mother’s pleas behind him.

“Henry, what are you doing outside of the castle?”

“I could say the same about you, Mother.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Captain Jones complained.

“Who is The Swan Thief?” Henry shouted.

“Henry…”

“Look, this feels like a personal matter, perhaps I should give you both a moment alone.”

“Don’t move.” Emma warned. “We don’t have time for this Henry.” She turned on her son.

“Tell me the truth, is he my father?”

The Captain leaned against the wall, sighing as he pressed his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had no time for family drama. He had a mark to catch.

“Henry, he wasn’t a good man.”

“So, you lied to me and told me he died?” The boy cried.

“He left us. Abandoned us. I did what I thought I had to do to protect you.” She reached up, brushing the tears from her face.

“Why is he back?”

Emma looked at the Captain. “He’s after a diamond, a trinket of the Queen’s.” The man answered.

“He’s the one you were looking for in the castle last night, the one you burst into my room to find. Was he there?”

“Aye.”

“So where is he now?”

“We’re about to go track him now. You need to go back to the castle. Let me handle this.”

“You both need to go back to the castle. I was hired to do this, it’s my duty to bring him in.” The Captain complained.

“You aren’t going without me.” The Princess demanded.

“Or me.” Henry stood defiantly.

The Captain groaned. “Then lead the way, M’lady.”

~*~

Emma watched from the table as Killian bent over the stove, admiring the view she was getting of his ass. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants. “I think that did it.” She stood up walking over to the stove to see the blue flame light up.

“You fixed it.” She exclaimed.

“Good as new.” He sat the lighter down on the counter beside her and Emma got lost in the way his eyes caught hers. His fingers only inches from her own.

“Thank you…” She stammered. “For um, you know, coming to Henry’s fair tonight.” He stepped toward her almost in a trance. “For buying the pizza tonight and fixing my stove.” She licked her lips as she felt his fingers graze against hers on the counter. Her body was moving on its own accord, needing to be closer to him.

“I uh…” His voice was dark, hesitant. “I should go.” They were so close, her fingers danced along his wrist, looking up into his eyes.

He blinked; his eyes focused on her lips. “Ok.” She breathed out, closing the distance between them, her lips brushing against his. Before she could think or change her mind, her hands were in his hair, wanting him closer and needing something she couldn’t quite understand. She wasn’t thinking, she was reacting, she couldn’t even remember the moment she knew she was going to kiss him but now that she was, it felt like she had wanted to since the moment she had laid eyes on him.

She couldn’t breathe, it was as if only he had the air that she needed to survive and without his mouth she would surely perish. His hands tangled in her hair, before brushing down her back as he pulled her into his chest. He released her almost as quickly as he had taken her into his arms, her body immediately missing his warmth.

Her chest was heaving as she tried to bring the air back into her lungs. “That was…”

“A one-time thing.” He spoke softly. “My apologies, but that can’t happen again. You have a boyfriend.” Emma blushed, realizing she hadn’t thought of Graham in hours. “And I…”

“Have Belle. You’re right. I shouldn’t have…”

“No harm no foul, love. Think nothing of it.” He paused, looking at her one more time. “I very much enjoyed the evening. Let me know if you have any more trouble with the stove.”

And with that, he walked away from her and out of the apartment, the door closing behind him. Emma closed her eyes and leaned over the counter, feeling the cold granite on her cheek as she groaned. “Really good job Emma.” She stood up, holding her hand to her temple. “You son meets someone he idolizes, and you go and kiss him.”

Emma realized as she stood admonishing herself in the middle of her kitchen that she was more concerned that she kissed someone her son cared about than the fact she had kissed a man who wasn’t her boyfriend.

It was a little fact that continued to grow bigger as the weeks passed. It was in the way she started noticing things when she was with Graham. The fact that she didn’t get butterflies when he walked in the room the same way she did when she ran into Killian. It was in the longing glances she caught herself in when Killian would pass her in the hall.

And when Ruby stopped her in the hall to ask if she had forgotten to do laundry on Monday, the way she had always done it and Emma just laughed it off until she got to the laundry room, Killian standing at one of the machines with extra quarters for her, that she stopped to question when she had changed to Tuesdays, the same day Killian Jones did his laundry.

She convinced herself she wasn’t seeking him out. He was a friend. Killian was someone she enjoyed wasting time with while waiting for her clothes to dry. That was all. There was nothing wrong with chatting up a friend, telling them about your day, or sharing a beer in the basement over a load of dirty towels. She was friends with Killian just like she was with Will.

Sure, she had kissed Killian, but it was only one time, and he had gotten over it and so had she.

Ok so she had mostly gotten over it. There was the small matter of the fact that she was still having dreams about it. And not the cute, G rated kind either. She’d never actually seen a porno before, but she was pretty sure the dreams she was having of her neighbor at night would classify.

“You’re quiet today, love.” She looked up suddenly, realizing she had been lost in thought, and laughed.

“Sorry, didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Nightmares?” He questioned, with a sincere look of concern on his face.

“Oh, definitely not.” She snorted and then covered her mouth.

A smirk grew on his face, and she was sure it brought a blush to her cheeks. “Are you having dirty dreams, Swan.”

She slapped at his shoulder, “Stop.”

“You are! My, my, Swan, very unexpected from you.”

“Why is that unexpected, I’m a woman, I have needs.”

His eyes seemed to darken as he stared down at her, his tongue sliding across his lip. As if he realized he was staring, he blinked and reached for a towel on the table between them. Silence filling the room.

“So uh, how’s Belle, haven’t seen her in a few days.” Smooth Emma. Great transition to fill the awkward sexual tension, ask about his girlfriend. Brilliant.

“She’s good. Library keeps her busier than you would imagine. How is Graham?”

Well, this isn’t awkward at all, she thought.

“Good, yeah he’s good. Working a lot.” She reached for a towel the same time as he did, their hands colliding which caused her to jump at the contact.

Why did he always make her heart race so fast? What was it about him that was so exciting and appealing… and dangerous?

As she lifted the towel, something fell to the ground and Killian bent over to pick it up. When he stood she felt her mouth go dry. Hooked around his finger was her black lace panties. “I don’t believe these will fit me.” His thumb seemed to caress the lace as his eyes trailed down her body making Emma swallow harder than she meant to, choking on her own saliva.

She reached out and grabbed the item from his hand. “I’m not sure you could pull off a thong.” She teased trying to bring any sort of normalcy back to the conversation, a joke, a laugh, oh God anything besides this deafening sound in her ears screaming for her to run from the room before she did something stupid, like run her hands through that thicket of black hair he was always displaying with a half-buttoned shirt.

Why did he even bother with putting on a shirt if he was only going to close half of it? It was obscene, and sexy, and God she needed to stop staring at his chest.

She put her towel and panties in her basket and looked around nervously, trying to ignore the way he was staring into her. “I just remembered I need to get Henry ready for his weekend with his dad.”

“Ah yes, the prodigal ex returns.”

Emma chuckled. “Yeah, so I need to make sure he’s packed or else he’s going to end up with nothing to wear but the clothes on his back for 3 days.”

“An extended visit, perhaps that will be just what the lad needs.”

“I guess.” She frowned.

“It can’t be easy handing him over to someone else and hoping they won’t disappoint the boy.”

“That’s the thing. I know he’ll disappoint him.”

“Sorry, love.”

She hated that one minute he was a sex God, giving her looks that made her want to drop her panties and mount him right there on the washing machine, and the next he had that sincere look of a man who actually cared about her and Henry. It was a bit overwhelming. And there was no way in which it was possible that the man actually cared about her.

Emma turned to leave. “See ya around, Jones.”

“I’ll be counting the seconds, Swan.”

How will the princess claim the belonging she desperately craves if she cannot trust the words uttered in the darkness of her mind?

~*~

The moment Emma was out of sight he let out a breath he was holding. Bugger. The woman was going to be the death of him.

He could handle wanting a woman, desiring someone so badly that he needed to escape to solitude to take himself in hand, releasing the tension of not being able to have the creature he desired. But caring about the woman and her boy had become something he wasn’t prepared for.

Perhaps spending so much time with the two of them was unwise. Lately he seemed to run into Emma everywhere. Impromptu discussions in the hall, a beer while doing laundry in the basement, finding her at the diner near the harbor after getting off his shift.

Ok the last one he had to admit was less of an accident and more deliberate on his part. The boy might have mentioned in passing that his mother enjoyed a specific diner down by the harbor and Killian might have stopped by at different times in the day before he found the exact moment she would visit. After that they seemed to bump into each other more often, opting to share lunch at the same table instead of talking across the room.

It was all innocent. Emma was his friend. Even if friendship wasn’t exactly a luxury he had been afforded recently. He enjoyed his time with Emma. Even more when he had Henry along. The boy had invited him to dinner at his place a couple of times and he would join Will and the two of them over a plate of spaghetti or a takeout pizza.

And he had been seeing less of Belle, though he couldn’t blame the library for that. Lately when they would meet, he found himself uninterested in their usual roll in the hay after dinner. It all seemed so casual. Belle was getting irritated with him, if it was any indication from the way she told him to refrain from coming over if he wasn’t going to listen to a word she said the last time he was at her place. He knew he was going to have to deal with what was going on between him and Belle. Their expiration date had come and gone, and Killian needed to stop ignoring it but the damn feeling that he was going to hurt her kept nagging at him. Reminding him why he didn’t form connections with women.

But Emma was on a whole different level of confusing for him. He understood his stressful thoughts about Belle. But Emma?

Ever since their kiss a few weeks ago, it has been all he thought about. He didn’t know where he got the strength to walk away that evening, everything in him was screaming to take the woman. But she had a boyfriend and that made her off limits.

He had learned his lesson with Milah. It nearly destroyed his life. The day he found out she was married, not separated from an ex who was demanding, like she had told him, everything had fallen apart. He was in love with this woman, he didn’t want to walk away from the life they had built together, even if half of it was based on a lie.

He tried to break it off, tried not to give in when she showed up his door, tears in her eyes, scared that her husband had been drinking again, had hit her, and was begging him to take her to bed. God he had tried. He would take her in, clean her wounds, make love to her, and promise her forever. But she always went back to him.

The last time he hit her, Killian had put up with enough and went after the man. Of course, Milah lied to the police, called him a jealous lover who was hell bent on destroying her marriage. He ended up in 30 days lock up with a restraining order and a discharge from the Navy for conduct unbecoming of an officer. His life was ruined.

When he showed up on Liam’s doorstep, drunk and alone and promising never to be with another woman again, he had been serious. He could never have his heart broken that way again and survive.

But now he was here in Boston, at Skyline Apartments, with a woman who stared at him like she was the answer to every prayer he had uttered in his dreams. And a boy who clung to him like what he said actually mattered. He wanted to run, to get as far away as he could from the feelings bubbling to the surface.

How will the Pirate ever find the affection he desires, if he lingers in the solitude he has created?

[quetzalpapalotl]

Someone on Discord asked me why I love IDW Optimus and I thought I might as well put my answer here as well, since I don't think I've explained that properly here

Firts of all, I love Optimus in general. Optimus is great. I love him so much. I love G1 dad Optimus, TFP paragon Optimus (who is interesting and has emotions idc what anyone says), awkward nerd walking the walk CV Optimus.... I just really vibe with Optimus as a concept.

And I think Barber (and the other people who wrote him) loves Optimus too, he really does. People complain about IDW’s take on Optimus being edge for edge’s sake but I don’t think that’s right. I think Optimi are made to fit the tone of their series, especially when Barber made Optimus to be the representation of the themes in his run. And it does come from a place of love, wanting to explore all the implications that a character like Optimus entails (ok, to be fair, Barber’s execution is not always great because like I said, he tends to sacrifice character for plot, despite the fact he can actually write good characters).

Optimus, the strong and wise leader of the Autobots, he is great! He gives people hope! A figure that looks so noble and infallible makes people gather around him and keeps the morale up to not give up and stand against tyranny! But also, unchecked faith in leaders is not a good thing, no one is perfect, no one can keep up an image of perfection, and this need to protect everyone… it can easily become paternalistic, doesn’t it?

So IDW is primarily driven by a strong sense of justice. He sees wrong and he needs to do something, he needs to help. But he can be pretty naïve, or clueless about experiences he hasn’t had, being exemplified by the fact he wanted to do good by becoming A FUCKING COP OF ALL THINGS (Barber does call him out for this), he really is part of the problem. All the crime in Cybertron bitters him, but doesn’t see the bigger picture and arrests people, but when is pointed out to him that the system is corrupt, he immediately goes to scream at those at the top (after arresting more people ffs).

This is a person who very, very much wants to maintain his ideals, and when reality proves him wrong it makes him angry, but he doesn’t want to get angry, but he also doesn’t know how to properly deal with his anger, sometimes he can channel it properly, but many other times it has ugly results for everybody. Optimus desperately wants to do what’s right, but often doesn’t know what the right thing is, after renouncing the system he goes back to it because Zeta represented the peaceful change he desired and would get mad at anyone who challenged that. He very much suspected that Zeta’s reign wasn’t all that great, but he wanted to believe in it so badly, and then the Decepticons looked as corrupt by now, nothing like what he envisioned from Megatron’s writings, so what was he supposed to do, let them have their way?

Maybe he should have, the truth is we don’t know. He certainly had a hand in escalating the war, and by the time he was listening to the pleas of the oppressed it was too late, Megatron had already given himself to his own anger and violence and Optimus couldn’t trust him, he couldn’t leave other planets unprotected from him. He needs to do something. Which, yeah, easy to play the part of the hero in your high horse with the life you were given. He can be pretty quick to judge, and he struggles between wanting to believe in people and also judging them too harshly.

Optimus fucks up a lot, he makes me extremely uncomfortable.

There is also something to say, because I do hate how in media the revolutionary characters who fight the system are also like, killing babies, so the heroes get the moral high ground no matter what. But that issue is more complicated in IDW and deserves a rant of its own. It could have been done better, but I don’t hate it so much in IDW.

Optimus didn’t want to lead, in fact, he does like to follow, at least when he trusts and admires someone, but he is also stubborn, not willing to compromise his ideals, except when he inevitably has to and does whatever seems like a good idea at the moment. Truth is, he excels at war, his bravery, acrobatics, quick thinking, charm and even his ideals, does help make him seem like this larger than life heroic figure, that’s certainly how he looks when JRo writes him, even when he’s tired, so tired. Honestly, he just wants a rest. Unfortunately, by the time of phase two it seems the hero worship has gotten to his head, and there’s problems around, and some people still want him, and he needs to do something.

Optimus fucks up and he fucks up a lot and I’m not saying he never did anything wrong, but I just find his flaws so believable. I can see how thinks those were good ideas at the moment, how he really tries to do what’s best, how things backfire and he comes to regret it, but he can’t do nothing but keep going. But maybe he shouldn't

Ex-rid/OP is about how people are always in conflict, how it seems they can’t agree on anything even when supposedly everyone wants what’s best, people lie and betray each other and everyone is an asshole and there seems to be to end to the conflict, and yet, it’s not meaningless to try. Is hard and it sucks, you can’t put your hope in infallible leaders, but you also can’t give up hope altogether.

A moment that summaries OP for me is one thing Whirl says: Optimus personally recruits him to the autobots, which Whirl calls "compassion as a weapon of war" very him. It wasn't a talk about Optimus, but it does show how he goes. Optimus knows Whirl is not irremediable and wasn't completely at fault, he does extend a hand to him, but still judges him for the things he has done, at the same time he wants to Make a Point about compassion to the general public. But he also may not realize that Whirl doesn't really have any other choice because the Decepticons will fucking murder him.

[bitegore]

possibly my feelings on pharma are informed by the fact that i decided when i was very young that, actually, the point of torture is to break you and you will, in fact, at some point, break under torture, and when you do things will be bad but not necessarily in ways that are good for your torturer. the situation pharma is in cannot be classified as anything other than psychological torture. tarn absolutely did that on purpose; he likes torture. he finds it fun. you will not convince me otherwise. tarn could almost certainly requisition parts or have them made for him; he is clearly a relatively rich mech who can spare the expenses. he wants t-cogs from pharma because they are such a struggle to get, because it puts pharma in an impossible position, and because at the end of the day? he’s killing autobots. he’s forcing autobots to break. he’s torturing a defector. everything is going according to the plan and it’s a side thing, he’s still doing the main tortures too. and pharma is being tortured psychologically. so yeah, he breaks, messy, and goes and finds the object of his suffering and realizes nope, can’t beat this one and decides to utilize the only weakness of his that pharma even knows about in a fucking hail mary plea that almost kills everyone he was fighting to save. because that’s what happens. sometimes shit is just like that; you self destruct to push something away and just get rid of all of it. even if you havent like killed many people with a virus that has a cure that you haven’t proven will work. because i doubt it was proven. who was he going to test it on? it would’ve been too obvious. he just had to know, through theory; and if he got it wrong then he died. anyway all the transformers you like would’ve done the same. i’m tempted to write ten thousand aus of optimus and ratchet and megatron and rodimus and ultra magnus- actually no ultra magnus would’ve gotten everyone else killed calling home and being intercepted, that doesnt work- everyone who doesnt aggressively follow rules would’ve eventually done something similar. some would be more effective. most would be way less, because for all his failings pharma’s plan was actually extremely good if tarn had like... gotten there and touched someone infected. but my point, the point i’m making is this: you would not come out of that okay. you would not be subjected to psychological torture stretching back a literally untold amount of time, and then betrayed by the people who should have saved you, literally dismembered by one of your oldest friends who just takes your hands and throws you off a cliff while you are infected with a highly dangerous disease and on a deserted planet while being literally hunted by the galaxy’s most dangerous transformers who are toying with you for kicks, you would not come out of that experience unscarred. you would probably die. it would suck and you would have like fifteen thousand different complexes by the end. like, you know. pharma.

cut him some slack ffs

[rosaline-kei]

If it's ok may i request a yandere!armin x mikasa fanfic set in the aot world? If that's comfortable for you of course.. I loved your fanfic, Bared and I am in desperate need of some arumika content.

Disclaimer: I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin / Attack on Titan nor its characters.

Title: Yandere

parts: 1/2

Synopsis:  Unknown to everyone but his victims, there’s a side to Armin that he dedicates to protecting his beloved.

Rated: T / M (I’m not that sure; but it’s a fanfic about yandere so there’s that. Read it at your own risk. I might finalize the overall rating depending on the second part.)

Pairings: Armin Arlert / Mikasa Ackerman 

Read it also on / Please Leave a Review at: my Ao3 / FF net (might post there soon.)

A/N: i’m chill with writing yandere stuff i guess? But remember guys, don’t be a yandere in real life lmao. I hope this was okay, considering i don’t really watch/play yandere animes/games?? I think?? Except for the classics y’know, like Mirai Nikki haha. That aside, thank you for enjoying Bare!  (which y’all can read on my Ao3 lmao). Also, the time period / current time setting of this is messy but shhh....... 

-

Control.

While many cadets would think otherwise, Armin had always struggled with control, sometimes even more than Eren.

Murderous urges never ceased to come creeping up his spine, crawling its way into his heart; strangling it and him entirely—pleading for him to let them go. To let loose whenever anyone goes a little too close to her; whenever anyone dares to invade her personal space, trespassing in his territory.

But Armin knew how to play his cards. Behind his innocent and naïve appearance, deep inside the insanity that dances around his heart like a frisky pup, he was an intelligent and strategic man, who knew how to play this game.

Killing Eren was never, could never be an option. Even if that reckless boy dragged Mikasa down into the turbulence that surrounded him, even if that dense idiot carelessly spat insensitive rubbish in Mikasa’s direction, even if one day he might finally become a sensible man, who was capable of loving her—he can’t kill him. And it was not just because they shared a history together, because they shared a bond.

It was because he knew Eren’s death would send Mikasa in a spiral down into the depths of hell or null. He had the horrid chance of witnessing it once; the impact of Eren’s death on Mikasa.

And it was because he loves Mikasa, he didn’t want her to suffer through that again, so he kept Eren and a few others that appeared to be close (but not that dangerously close) to Mikasa. He didn’t, and never wanted to see her hurt. Besides, he would often think, there are other fathomable and less bloody ways of making her mine, before anyone else.

For now, Armin wasn’t fixated in eliminating the ‘what if’ possibilities where Mikasa winded up with someone else that wasn’t him. For now, he chose to instead focus on his next step in this messed-up game. And for now, in this game, he decided to let them live.

Call him obsessive, but the blonde was lovesick.

Armin didn’t remember how his feelings escalated into this splendid travesty; how this wicked side of him woke. What he did remember was that one day, a day where Eren was absent, a day where it was just the two of them, a day where Armin really had the chance to admire and marvel in the Ackerman’s heavenly presence, did he start to fall.

“Armin…? Are you alright?” Mikasa asked softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You appeared… troubled earlier, was it because you saw him?” The concern emanating from her tone was enough to throw Armin’s senses off a cliff; and that was barely an exaggeration. Anything, and maybe everything that came out of her mouth was considered a melody to Armin.

Her.

Her.

Her.

Everything about her was a soothing melody. Her voice, her breath, her heartbeat. Even just her looks. That much was enough to compose a symphony in Armin’s head.

“No… it’s nothing.” Armin assured with a hum as he turned towards her direction, putting on the brightest smile he could manage in the dim-lit room that they were to rest in. For a motel in the underground, this far exceeded Armin’s expectation. Despite the poor lighting along with the peelings of decayed wallpaper hanging loose from the cracked, yellowed walls, Armin had honestly anticipated for the condition of this room to be much worse, with insects possibly crawling about, spiders readying to defend their territory or hunt.

Regardless, as long as Mikasa was comfortable, it was fine.

That aside, the last thing Armin had expected was to see that man who harassed him back then, when he was forced to doll up, dress up as Historia Reiss. Then again, the fact that the two of them were ordered to investigate these parts of the underground for clues regarding a separate issue (one that was fortunately not about Eren being kidnapped, again) was even more unexpected, bewildering even. The crippling world existing on the surface was chaos enough, and Armin would’ve had expected for Levi to keep them around in case that Ripper would show up since they were vital members of his squad. Or at least, not send two cadets on a mission alone, having to navigate the unfamiliar underground the first time by themselves, with a poorly drawn map that could’ve been mistaken with a child’s doodle. Then again, as much as he’d like to question his decision, he didn’t have an opportunity to. Who knows what was going behind the scenes? Armin couldn’t help but ponder.

On the bright side, he was alone with Mikasa.

On the darker side, however…

“If anything, I should be asking you that, Mikasa.” Armin remarked, his smile and other features morphing into something more worried. “You looked… uncomfortable, out there.” It took him every ounce of effort to not let his maliciousness seep through and poison his tone when he thought back to the stares Mikasa received—particularly by one herd of obnoxious barbarians that were bold and foolish enough to cackle out inappropriately snide remarks about her oriental features as they made their way towards the bar.

It made his blood boil.

“…I just don’t understand why people like them exist, that is all. I don’t have time to be concerned with people like them.” She said coldly; a tone and sentiment Armin hoped to never be on the receiving end of. What’d he ever do if Mikasa were to hate him? Or if Mikasa were to find out his… tendencies?

Armin didn’t plan to find out. He was a curious soul, but not that curious.

Slowly, Mikasa shifted herself slightly to the left side of the bed before patting the vacant right side. “Lay down… there’s room. Besides, that couch looks like it could be invested with termites.” She offered calmly, resisting a yawn.

“E-Eh?!” Armin stuttered, face flushed. He had been too busy… scheming, and had forgotten that there was a possibility of them having to share a bed.

It wasn’t the first time but… he wanted to feel her warmth, so badly, so desperately. He wanted to cling onto her, and never, never let her go. He wanted to be close to her, to be overwhelmed by her godly presence again and again. It would just be the two of them. No distractions, nothing.

Unfortunately, Armin had to reject, or rather postpone her offer, as reluctant as he was.

His hand stretched back, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I… would love to, but… I haven’t eaten any dinner yet since we left. I saw a store selling bread nearby, so I’ll head there for a bit.”

“What?” Mikasa’s eyes widened, shocked to hear that he was running on an empty stomach. “I’ll come w—”

“No, it’s fine!” Armin reassured. “You need to… rest. Please.” He didn’t want to trouble her.

Despite his plea for her to rest, she stood up in protest, stomping her way towards him. The fierceness in her eyes clearly made it evident to him that she was against the idea. Cute, he thought. He adored how dedicated and devoted she could be to the people she made room for in her heart, he greatly appreciated her concern, but…

“But it can be dangerous—”

“If I don’t come back within forty-five minutes… then come looking for me.” Armin smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s just a quick stop, and I’ll head back. I can handle my own.”

Mikasa looked at him, stared with him eyes brimming full of genuine worry, concern and conflict. It made Armin’s heart skip and flutter. That look served a reminder to Armin that she cared about him, so much.

After a long tangible silence that stood between them (that Armin didn’t break, couldn’t break. He was too hypnotized by her looks; by her), she finally resigned and with a sigh, “Fine.” She said.

Armin was perfectly capable of handling himself, she knew that. He wasn’t weak. Even if he didn’t excel in physical strength as much as she did, he made it up with his brains; his intelligence that always aid in his and their escape in whatever tricky predicaments.

“But… please,” She muttered, her hands reaching out to grab his free hand, holding them closely, tightly. “Don’t stay out too long… the later it gets, the more ruffians are out there.”

“U-Uhuh!” Armin nodded, savouring her touch, her warmth, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks and a mad rush of blood surging. It was thrilling, and an expression nearly slipped from his control.

Control Armin, control. He reminded himself. Now wasn’t the moment for Mikasa to witness how much she had an effect on him. He was practically wrapped around her finger, in some sense, and he didn’t mind. It was relieving, he was glad.

Perhaps if it wasn’t just the two of them, he would have more control about his expressions that had a possibility of exposing what he felt for her. He loved her, but at the same time, what he felt for her was more than that.

There was no going back, now.

Once Mikasa had let go, he left, knowing that there was no time to waste.

As he left, he felt a wave of ecstasy swinging within him as he relished the lingering warmth that Mikasa’s hand had imprinted on his. Ahhhh! The warmth is all the same… He thought, humming to himself as he skipped towards his destination. Her touch is all the same… ah… sometimes I just want it all to myself.

Upon arriving at his destination, his humming stopped, and what took over was a determined look mixed with some animosity. Taking a deep breath as he re-calculated his plans, he entered the bar with a thirst for vengeance.

[incarnateirony]

The government only allows the person working to cross over for quarantine so at the earliest Mish won’t be in Van until tomorrow so he’ll only be able to be in like 2 days of 15.20. We know 19/20 are filming somewhat simultaneously and scene 46 (probably the last scene since most epis have around 42) was already filmed. I’m worried that even if he films part of 20 it’s minimal and not part of the grand finale. The possibility of Cas not getting his toes in the sand with his family just hurts.

What part of “you’re completely lacking the rest of the context of whether that’s a directly experienced story, a relayed story, a zoom call during wife driving story, or any other potential context of that second to the fact that we already know he’s been quarantining in a hotel for weeks” missed you?

I know you guys want really, really, REALLY bad to be upset and imagine worse case scenarios, but he’s /already been quarantining./

Stop.

Or at least stop spamming my inbox trying to get validation for the whackadoo because you’re not going to get it here. If you want to get reason and points where you’ve possibly missed discussion options, that’s fine. But if you’re going to double down, I say again: save my previous ask if you’re so certain, come back at me with I TOLD YOU SO if I’m wrong in like 4 months, but don’t clutter my inbox with some weird dedication to taking the worst possible read ever.

Even IF you're right with amount filmed while already there and "only two days" he could easily be in a third of the episode like most of his eps. Ffs, stop.

Which, by the way, you’re not. All you need to get to Canada is an eTA right now which the Collins could easily afford to do. It’s like 7 freaking bucks to apply and go through due process right now.

Travellers coming from outside the US who are exempt from the travel restrictions (list truncated to ones the Collins’ could fit within)

temporary foreign workers

any person who does not pose a significant harm to public health, in the opinion of the Chief Public Health Officer of Canada, and who will provide an essential service while in Canada

any person whose presence in Canada is in the national interest, in the opinion of the Minister of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship; Minister of Public Safety and Emergency Preparedness; or Minister of Foreign Affairs

a person who is authorized, in writing, by a consular officer of the Government of Canada to enter Canada for the purpose of reuniting immediate family members

Who is an immediate family member

An immediate family member is defined as a

spouse or common-law partner

dependent child

dependent child of a dependent child

parent or step-parent

guardian or tutor

Public health measures for travellers to Canada

If you’re travelling by air, you need to

pass a health check conducted by airlines before you’ll be allowed to board your flight

wear a non-medical mask or face covering during travel (including to the place you’ll quarantine)

*jazz hands* I think you all forget that the WB is one of the most powerful companies in the world and all it takes is one plea to a Canadian official to let their families come along and that’s it, it’s done. Covid test before flight and still quarantine by agreement and it’s not hard.

When you arrive in Canada by air, land or sea, we’ll assess your health before you leave the POE. If you’re a foreign national, and you have symptoms of COVID-19, you won’t be allowed to enter Canada.

You must have a plan to quarantine for 14 days when you arrive in Canada, including

a place to stay

how you’ll

get to your destination

get your groceries

access essential services and medical care

This plan is mandatory, even if you have no symptoms. If you don’t have a plan, you should not travel to Canada. Otherwise, you may not be allowed to enter the country. A border services officer will determine if you can enter the country.

Seriously.

And again all of THIS is a huge aside on people not getting how powerful the WB is and how easy it would be to wiggle them in, which again *is not necessary* to approaching the matter because *we don’t even know if Misha was there for the story he retold or if he’s trolling the fuck out of you over something his wife just said the kids did while he was calling her*. 

And again, even with THAT, there would be a total of 4 days total filming at anywhere from 4 to 12 shots per day based on your worst case scenario, so again, I really don’t know why someone is coming to basically lowkey argue through anon just to post sad stuff at me after I showed the many ways this is being blown out of proportion. I’ll say it again: save my posts, if I’m wrong and Misha just totally isn’t in the finale at all, come back in 4 months and Told You So’ed me. Otherwise, like. Seriously, stop insisting on posting negativity at people and doubling down at them when they clearly disagree with you, wtf?

This shit is ENDLESS guys, wave after wave, year after year, upset after upset, panic after panic, and somehow nobody ever catches a clue about it, and it starts all over again every season, every finale, sometimes every episode, and more bafflingly every tweet that people leap several football fields of conclusions in a single step over. Every time. *wHY*

The logic of “WHY DON’T THEY JUST SPOIL ALL THE ENDING STUFF FOR US RIGHT NOW WHILE WE GET SUPER LOUD ABOUT IT” is roughly tantamount to “WHY NOT JUST POST THE SCRIPTS FOR THE ENDING NOWWWWW” and I’m so very very tired of trying to be gentle and logical with everyone. I was gently logical last ask, but this doubling down, I’m not gonna just keep going “Yeah ok pls keep sending me stuff that’s arguing out the side of your mouth and spamming my ask box with things you know I clearly disagree with”

You have a right to feel feelings, hell, you have a right to be sad about ideas. But as much as “it just hurts to think XYZ”, I think there’s an absolute lack of consideration that people spraying their incessant dark takes at people in the middle of a pile of global crisises for the sheer dedication to said dark take is itself one emotional black hole for the people on the receiving end, even if they very confidently disagree with you, it’s e x h a u s t i n g

Imagine being stuck on a loop having ten thousand emo takes being thrown at you even if you have an answer to all of them, but once you answer them all, they loop back over again from different people, and all the people try to argue with you. Doesn’t matter how confident you are, you can and will be depleted of energy and give a damns by the end of it.

Add in that chunks of this fandom try to make it seem like a cardinal sin to post positively in your own space or want to maintain your space as a positive space, while going around and negging on other people’s shit, and calling it positivity policing if they literally don’t want people dropping flaming poo bags on their doorstep, and somehow this has been entirely normalized. Holy fuck I’m tired of this fandom and honestly couldn’t be gladder the show is ending.

If people wanna spend months hurting themselves with things that hurt to think about and feel that’s their prerogative, I can’t control that, but a simple point to ask is if it hurts to think it, why be so dedicated to staying on a specific interpretation that is far from the only viable one? So you... don’t get hurt in several months? So you spend several months choosing to hurt yourself and other people? Sounds self destructive, can’t relate.

So one last time: There is no recent image of Misha with his kids. Misha has posted a picture of his kid with a spatula with no proof it was him that took it. As recently as Aug 19th he was confirmed to be at “someone else’s place” than his own when Yang was talking about quarantine, has had that background for a few weeks (he had the same painting--or painting style, such as a persistently decorated building--behind him Aug 6 and 8 from a different angle), and even implied pre-GISH that he was going to be in vancouver at the end of GISH. His recent streaming is not his house environment, does not match recent images of where his kids last were, we don’t know if he was even there in person for the convo, and even if he was, he could get his kids there if he really needed to. The entire crew has been intentionally cryptic about his location for a damn good reason and that alone should tell you everything, but if it doesn’t, just save these goddamn asks and come back months later if I’m wrong, instead of wasting my time and energy.

So your options are: 

Misha is in a large suite, or rotated suites, in a hotel with extremely stock decor across its rooms or

Misha is malevolently finding copies of mountain art and matching hotel furniture to move around pretending to be in quarantine and getting a politician to help him lie about being with someone else in a machiavellian plan just to fuck with everyone.

QUICK HE TWEETED A PIC OF HIS KID WITH ENTIRELY DIFFERENT BACKGROUND AND POSTED A NO CONTEXT TWEET ABOUT A KID BEING A KID IN THE CAR, SLAM THE BREAKS. 

The quarantine info is just extra, because I’m like 99% sure the kids aren’t even there with him right now. And that he is in fact in Van. But just a little note about how people don’t consider the full spread of potential before going off.

The logical answer to all of this is simple:

Misha went into quarantine only about 2 days behind the other guys (who started aug 4thish), to attend either day 3 or 5 shooting for episode 20 shoots mixed into ep 19 shooting which is why his colors are recently visible on the tape ball THEY ZOOMED IN ON DURING THEIR SONG WHEN HE SAID HE WASN’T ON SET “today” (Aug 20th -- a day they were doing NO EPISODE 20 FILMING UNLIKE THE DAY BEFORE AND THE DAY AFTER), because he’s paid by episode and not by day/hour, and the three stars will be fitted to what costars need flown in for a scene or two; Misha is trolling the fuck out of everyone’s anxiety, either with the kids being legally entered to Canada (unlikely) or by just second hand relaying some silliness that happened while he was calling his wife over the phone bluetooth (likely), or something else in that wheelhouse (likely.) and will be in Van a few more weeks.

The least logical answer to all of this:

In direct conflict with other script leaks earlier this year, Misha came in just to die deadeded in episode 19 instead of 18, and instead his death is the feature in 19, and he’s already shot his scenes and been totally happy with it as a cas ending despite being thrown into the trash the way fans keep imagining because of a random tweet with no physical evidence for the conclusion they jumped to from the tweet, and went home before even episode 19 filming is done, because people want to envision the worst case scenario.

He wasn’t documented in Van/quarantine location until Aug 6. He couldn’t have attended shooting until day 3, by all odds. Like I said, he came a few days behind the others. Almost like, gee, he was aiming to be there for day 3 of filming or something.

if you really think they’re gonna fly Misha out early just to literally film, like, scene 46 of episode 20 or something too as the new argument--I really don’t know what to tell you beyond the fact you’re dedicated to being upset.  Another logical read of this is, as one of the three stars that’s going to have a sizable impact on the final episode, he’s going to need to meet other guest stars that will have a few scenes between 19 and 20, so days 3 and 5 probably have someone like Billie or Bobby or some other character that needs to be in both in the related scenes so they only have to be on site for one day of filming instead of weeks as opposed to the core stars. Take note several of the 28PartWhatevers are on the multifilming days, for example. Do some detective work. Figure this out past initial kneejerk when you literally know the entire cast is fucking with you at this point.

Whoever’s in 15.19 28pt4 and 20 also needed to be around for a Misha shot for 15.20 shot 46 which will be hella close to the end. Bet your ass. Be that Billie or Mary or what, I don’t know. Hell, maybe they got JDM to show up for one final shot, we don’t fucking KNOW. Same for 15.19 28pt7 and 8, the fact 28pt4 was shot AGAIN, and possibly 23pt2 with possible overlaps of 15.20 11, 12, 43.

Coincidentally, day 3 only had like 4 shots while we do know Misha had availability at his quarantine spot from PST onward. Of course, that would make sense, if the 15.20 scene 46 shot being listed first on the board means they did it first and Misha was home before lunch. Hell, his hair was still Cas-styled on his time on with Yang, as opposed to “I kinda brushed my hair today”. Light scruff, check, but full beard, nope. 

Read as: That would mean he was filming for late/final shots of 20, not 19.

[adonis-koo]

So I was on PornHub(tmi) and I was watching this video from feelgoodfilth i think and it was this audio titled Daddy overstimulates your clit and I just thought of Tease!JK. Like tbh, I didn't find the audio sexy just cause of the fact that if it is not steamy, sensual, and in the moment, i'm just •_•. But if you listen to it, the words were ff worthy to me. So getting to the point ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᶦᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵈʳᵃᵇᵇˡᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵀᵉᵃˢᵉᵎᴶᴷ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹᶜ ᵇᵃˢᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵘᵈᶦᵒ ᶦᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵐʸ ᵈᵘᵈᵉ ᴷ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⁻

I really just searched pornhub like it was youtube all in the name of writing, if this ain’t thriving Chief then idk what is- also his words were highly ff worthy but the growling??? he sounded a little possessed at one point??? I fucking CRACKED up when he started growling at the end HAHAHA

Unedited like I was sleep deprived and theres probably a lot of typos but it’s straight up filth so-

Pairing: tease!Jungkook/Reader

Genre: S M U T

1 or 2k ish??? srry a drabble just wasn’t gonna cut it chief

Tags: heavy daddy kink OwO, toys, edging, orgasm denial, lots of teasing, overstimulation, forced orgasm, a little breath play, slight sir kink, and a whole lot of filthy talk

——

You swallowed thickly at the pastel pink silks Jungkook held in his hands, his legs straddled over your body, cheeks red and unable to fully look at him making a laugh bubble in his lips, “Why the scared look babydoll? You’ve been such a good girl you wanted this, right?”

With quivering lips you parted them briefly, eyes meeting his wolfish gaze that store down at you as if ready to eat his prey alive. No words could escape your lips making another confident laugh escape his lips, grabbing your wrists delicately as he pulled them over your head, “You know your safe word babygirl don’t act like an innocent angel when you were begging for my cock earlier.”

His words made you squeeze your thighs together, previous arousal already sliding down your thighs as he expertly wrapped the silk around your wrists, “And you’re already so wet again, you’re making a mess all over the sheets. Did daddy’s cock feel that good?” Your breath hitched as he finished tying your wrists to the bedpost, your body completely bare and on display.

Your nipples were perked from the cold air of the room and your body was beginning to burn from new arousal and anticipation, what you didn’t expect was the harsh sting of a slap against your thigh making you whimper as Jungkook pressed his tongue into his cheek, “I asked you a question babydoll, did you like daddy’s cock?”

Letting out a whine you felt embarrassment wash over you as you wiggled, another harsh slap stung over your skin making you yelp, fresh arousal slipping from your already wet cunt at the throb of pain as Jungkook chided, “You’ve been such a good baby all night, don’t ruin it now princess-“ He grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him, “Do you enjoy daddy’s cock? Do you like the way it splits that pretty pussy open?”

Your cheeks were bright red and your lips were quivering at the way his lips twisted into a sadistic smirk, eating up the way your timidity showed, “I-I love daddy’s cock…” You finally whimpered out, thighs rubbing together as the pout twisted on your lips, having been edged all night making you more needy then ever. Jungkook licked his lips, his smirk furrowing at how good his little girl was.

Jungkook grabbed your knees making you jump at the hot touch of his hands, “What a good girl,” his praise was enough to making you wet all over again, his hands pulled open your thighs making you let out a breathy gasp, cunt spread open and on display, glossy and wet just for him. His eyes feasted on the pretty sight making your face burn all over again as you shifted nervously.

“Shh don’t worry babygirl, daddy’s gonna take good care of that little clit,” Noticing your apprehension he gently petted down your sides, calming down your nerves a little as you obediently kept your thighs open, excitement burning in your stomach as he pulled out the vibrator. It was your favorite wand and he knew that all too well, in fact you loved it even more when he was the one using it on you.

Clacking his lips he could sense the change in your demeanor, Jungkook couldn’t keep the small smile from tugging on his lips as he clicked the vibrator on, “Someones a little excited,” he teased, letting the gentle thrum of the wand start at your neck, trailing your throat as he hummed, “Does baby wanna cum?”

Your lips quivered once more as you finally let out a small whine, “Please…”

Snorting a laugh Jungkook trailed the wand down your sternum, patiently circling your breasts as he curved a brow, “You’re gonna have to do more then that to convince me babydoll.”

Feeling him click the vibrator up a setting it consistently thrummed into your stomach, the anticipation nearly killing your body as your back began to arch a little, letting out a breathy plea, “Daddy please…! Please!” Jungkook was teasing your hips now making them buck into the air, your thighs rubbing harshly together at you squirmed.

Licking his lips Jungkook let the wolfish sadism set in his eyes, enjoying the increasingly desperation your voice cracked with and the way your body was beginning to react to his merciless teasing, “You sure you want it on that pretty little clit babygirl?” He asked, a playful tone in his voice making you kick your feet as you nodded.

“F-fuck please!” Your back was beginning to ache from arching and your eyes had snapped shut at the feeling of the wand vibrating so close to your clit, but just far enough away to not feel it, “Please! Please daddy I’ll be good girl- please!” Your hips kept rolling up to meet the wand he cruelly kept away from your soaked cunt.

“Oh I know you will babydoll,” Jungkook chuckled lightly, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head as he lightly placed the vibrator over your clit, pleasure quickly thrumming into your body, “My good little baby, look at that needy little cunt wanting more.” You couldn’t keep your hips still as the rode against the wand.

Your arousal coating it’s silicon surface as you slid so easily against it, friction building in your clit as you let out a shaky moan, “D-daddy- mmm! Feels so good-“ you could hardly form a coherent sentence as he began to move the wand in rhythm with your hips, moving it slightly to hit closer to your sweet spot.

Your body was nearly burning from pleasure as your moans became shaky and cracked, wetness gleaming from the wand as Jungkook turned up its setting once more, a more powerful vibration drilling into your clit as you let out a gasp, “Are you gonna be a good girl and wait for me to let you cum?” Jungkook cooed out watching your hips desperate dragged against the wand, pressing it harsher against your sensitive bud making you yelp.

Your orgasm was ready to wash over your whole body was your eyes began to gloss, trying to keep yourself from cumming, “D-daddy! Please! Please I’m so close let me cum! Daddy please!” Your hips were beginning to shake as you tried to keep them still, Jungkook continued to rub the wand against your little bud making you pull at the silk with a cry.

“Not yet babydoll,” Jungkook purred, his smirk widening at the way your body withered beneath him, little tears dripping down your cheeks at being edged so ruthlessly, moans continually escaped your lips and you couldn’t hold it anymore, just as your orgasm came close to rolling through your body Jungkook pulled the vibrator away, “What did I say babydoll? You don’t cum until I say so.”

A sob had already escaped your lips as tears blurred your vision, apologies escaping your lips left and right as your hips continually bucked into the air in desperate search for a release that would not be found, “Daddy! Please! My clit needs it so bad! So bad! Please.” You babbled out with a sob, body aching in pain for your pleasure.

Jungkook wiped your tears as he cooed out, “I know babydoll but you have to be a good girl if you wanna cum,” You nearly cried again as he placed the shaft of the wand back over your clit, pleasure throbbing more intensely into your abused nub as moans ushered from your lips, “Now be a good girl and wait.” Your body was already intensely burning again, excitement building too quickly and you wanted nothing more then to just let go and cum all over the toy.

“Daddy please…!” you croaked out with a whine, eyes shutting as you tried to keep yourself from making a mess, Jungkook ignored your whines though as he turned the toy up to its last setting, the vibraton almost painfully drilling into your clit making a near scream escape your lips as he pressed it harsher into your clit.

“Go on babygirl, cum.” Your back instantly arched and your breathing became rapidly as your hips stuttered against the toy, moans escaping you left and right as you obediently came, your clit burning in pleasure Jungkook skillfully guided you through your orgasm, your mind nearly numb from the blissful pleasure you had been denied all evening.

Your wrists were beginning to ache at your continual tugging at the silks, your back arched as you whimpered, “Mmm! Fuck- fuck! Fuck! Daddy! Mmm!”

“Good girl baby, such a good girl,” His praise was enough to make you let out another string of moans, body coming down from its high and quickly becoming over sensitive, “Now can you be an even better girl for daddy and keep going?” You nearly whimpered at him quickly rubbing the shaft of the vibratior against your clit making you let out a yelp, the thrumming in your little nub making your eyes nearly gloss.

“Daddy…! I- I can’t,” You instantly cried out in objection, your hips only continued in his hands rhythm, unable to stop at your second orgasm quickly building in your body, “It hurts!”

Jungkook let the smirk coil back on his lips, ignoring your pleas and whines as he continued rocking the toy against your clit making you let out another sob, “Well daddy’s gonna make you then, I think that little clit can handle it. So be a good girl and cum,” His voice held a low growl making you whine, your mind becoming hazy as pleasure began to overwhelm your body, “I said cum you slut.” He growled once more, his free hand slapping down against the side of your thigh.

Pressing the wand roughly into your clit making you jump as you strangled out a cry, the orgasm forcing its way into your body as your thighs began to shake, tears rolling down your cheeks as a moaned sob bubbles in your lips, “That’s right baby, keep cumming for daddy,” Jungkook rasped out, his eyes dark and hungry as he pressed the vibrator further into your clit.

“Please! Daddy I can’t! I-I-“ You wheezed at the feeling of his large hand squeezing around your throat, his lips twitching with annoyance as he dragged the toy against your overstimulated nub.

“I don’t care babydoll,” Jungkook growled, his grip on your throat tightening with a squeeze making you gag, your body in complete hazy euphoria as he snapped, “You’re gonna be a good girl and cum for daddy again.” You nearly yelped at the pressure releasing from your clit only for Jungkook to push it inside you, “How about how baby? No more excuses you’re gonna cum.”

The wet noises were obscene as your walls clenched over the toy, his hand expertly pumping it inside of you dragging it along the spongy sensitive wall of your g-spot as you let out a cracked moan, yanking against your restraints as you gasped, “I- fuck! Jungkook!”

His hand suddenly squeezed tightly against your throat, “That’s not how you address your daddy is it you little brat.” He pressed the toy into your g-spot harshly as you clenched around it, shaky legged as the orgasm forced its way into your body.

Crying you wheezed, “No sir! No sir! Fuck…!” Your mind was completely overwhelmed as you let out another sob, body hyper sensitive to every little movement as Jungkook turned off the vibrator, letting it slip out of you before setting it down. Squeezing your legs shut you let the tears slip from your eyes as you weeped.

Jungkook laughed softly as he undid your restraints, “Shhh, you did so well babygirl,” he wiped your tears before scooping up your body, laying down as he tucked you against him, needly you curled against him as you let the tears drip down your cheeks, still overwhelmed by so many sensations, “You were such a good girl for me,” he cooed out softly, pressing a kiss against your head as he tenderly stroked your back, “Do you want me to put on a cartoon?”

A small, delicate ‘please’ bubbled from your lips but as soon as he shifted to get up you squeezed onto him tighter, frightened of letting go, Jungkook managed to pull out your laptop, typing in its password before putting something on and laying back down. Crawling on top of him completely you let out a sniffle as you buried down against his neck, “Was I really a good girl?” You murmured into his skin.

Jungkook couldn’t help the smile that pulled onto his lip as he looked down at his little crybaby, “You’re always a good girl for me babydoll.” Pressing a chaste kiss against your head once more before he let you unwind eventually falling asleep. You would always be his good babygirl.

[stormtrprinstilettos]

Fun’s For Free - Chapter 7 (Roger x Reader) (smut)

Summary: It’s 1978 and you’re assigned to follow Queen on their North American tour to promote their new album. Only problem is the magazine you write for has not been kind to the band in the past, and someone has a hard time letting go of that fact.

Series Masterlist Here

In this “episode”: FFS, Roger.

Word Count: ~5.2k

Warnings: The entire series is language & smut so 18+

[A/N: Here we go. Shit’s gonna get real now.]

November 22, 1978 – Nashville, Tennessee

“All I’m saying is that if we change the set list it’s going to ruin the whole show,” Brian says, standing his ground to Freddie, who for some reason wants to mix things up for the show tonight. “We’ve got everything down to a science and…”

“And it’s boring me,” Freddie complains. “It’s the same thing every night and it’s boring.”

You’re smirking as you listen to them, finding the whole argument amusing. Like Daisy told you back in New York, they’re bitchy and that makes them hilarious. Your eyes glance up and you see Roger, wearing sunglasses, his hair completely disheveled, wearing the same clothes he was yesterday, walking to the table, with his arms around some chick you’ve never seen before and your stomach drops.

“Late night?” Brian asks him, clearly pissed off, before he glances across the table to you with his brows furrowed.

Roger and the mystery chick sit at the table and he starts to chuckle. “Well, you know how it is sometimes, eh Bri?” He puts his arm around her again. “Lisa here kept me up late.”

“My name is Lacie,” she snips. “Lacie, for the millionth time.” Now Freddie is looking at you too, trying to figure out how you’re going to react. “At least you’re not calling me Y/N anymore I guess,�� she grumbles. Freddie starts to laugh loudly and you look up at the ceiling, not sure if you’re pissed, hurt or amused by it all and Roger’s arm quickly moves away from her.

“So, Lacie, where’d you meet our Rog?” Brian asks, clearly trying to make Roger more uncomfortable than he already is.

“I work here. At the bar,” she giggles. “He came in last night for a drink and I cheered him up.”

“There isn’t some ‘no patronizing with the guests’ rule here?” you ask.

She shrugs. “Probably, but I don’t care,” she says as she grins at Roger before looking back to you, holding out her hand. “What’s your name?”

You grab her hand and shake it. “Me? I’m Y/N,” you smirk. “Nice to meet you.” You keep your smirk as you glance over to Roger and pull your hand away. “Excuse me, but I’m going find something more important to do.” You stand up from the table and walk away, and Brian quickly follows you.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks as he gets next to you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He gives you a curious look. “He’s…” Your eyes start to well up, either out of sadness or anger – you’re really not sure, nor are you sure why you’re feeling any emotion about all of this – and you fight them back. “I’m tired, Brian.” He knows what you mean. You’re not sleepy tired. You’re mentally tired. “I think I just need to be alone right now.” He gives you a sympathetic look, trying to decide if he wants to leave you alone. “Really, I’m fine. I’ll see you at soundcheck, Okay?” You force a smile and head to your room.

You were at the arena in time for soundcheck but you couldn’t bring yourself to go sit out there. You couldn’t face him. You couldn’t even allow yourself to think about him because it turned you into a massive ball of emotion – emotions you didn’t want to have. Not for him. Not for anyone, but especially not for him. He showed himself to you, you thought. You told yourself that he was probably only being nice to you to keep you close enough to dish out sex whenever he wanted it. So that was it. No more. No matter how much you wanted it, if the chance ever presented itself to you, you were done. No more of this thing – whatever it was.

The door to the dressing room flies open and Roger storms in, not noticing you sitting there at first, but when he does you hurry and get up to walk out. You don’t speak to him. You don’t even look at him. But he looks at you and watches you rush out of the door, not even giving him the chance to make an asshole comment. You run into John – literally – as you leave, apologize for doing so, but he grabs you before you can make your getaway.

“Nope, you’re talking to me,” he giggles as he pulls you aside. “You don’t have to talk to anyone else, but you’re talking to me.” You sigh and take a seat on the floor and look up at him. He plops down right next to you and nudges your shoulder. “I heard about what happened this morning.” You glare at him, letting him know that you really don’t want to talk about it, but he ignores your silent plea. “I can’t believe he was calling her your name,” he says, his laughter loud. “And then you introduced yourself! I wish I could have seen that.”

You can’t stop your laughter anymore. “Yeah, it was priceless. My only regret is that I didn’t stick around longer.”

John pulls a cigarette from his pocket and hands it to you before taking one for himself, lighting yours before his. “Fred and I want you to come on the road with us all the time, even if it’s just to sit there and look pretty, because it’s funny watching Roger squirm.”

“I think I’m going to need a vacation when this one is finished,” you giggle. “A nice, long, relaxing vacation.”

“Rumor has it Miami wants another reporter with us when we go to Japan in April,” he says with a sneaky voice. “And I hear people have asked him if he can get you…”

“Oh God,” you groan, stopping him before he can finish.

“You love us, really,” he laughs. “And you’re fun. We like having you with us.”

“Maybe you do,” you smirk. “But I don’t know if…” Roger storms out into the hallway, yelling for John, not seeing him sitting on the floor next to you. You point to Roger and whisper. “I don’t know if he does.”

“Oh, he does,” John whispers, amused. “He won’t admit it, but he does.” He stands up and gets Roger’s attention. “I’m right here, Rog.” Roger turns around and sees you standing next to John.

“Fred’s looking for you,” Roger tells him. John walks in the dressing room, but Roger stays standing there, and the two of you get locked in a stare.

“Y/N… I mean, Lisa… Damn, I mean Lacey didn’t want to come tonight?” you snark. “Or is she old news? Want to find someone else instead?” He opens his mouth to say something, his face twisted into anger, but nothing comes out. His expression quickly changes, too, realizing that he has absolutely nothing to be angry with you about. “Hmm,” you chuckle. “I’m sure there’ll be someone floating around here that’s good enough for you soon.” He gives you an agonizing look, wanting so much to say something, but he can’t find the words. You, on the other hand, don’t let on that you’re torn up inside. “Have a good show, Roger,” you say as you walk past and head outside.

After the show, everyone piles on the bus to ride six hours to the next stop. You quickly take your regular spot away from everyone else, saying nothing as you pass them by, hoping like hell they leave you alone. You’re not in the mood to talk to anyone. You’re really not even in the mood to hear anyone, but you know it’s not going to be a quiet ride. They were still riding high on adrenaline, and if the other nights they were like this was any indication, it was going to be a loud six hours. You glance up and see Roger walking on the bus with a girl, grunt internally and focus on your notebook and pen. Before you start to scribble your notes, you hear Freddie and John yelling at Roger that no company was welcomed to join the group. “Not tonight!” Freddie yells. “It’s just us tonight, Rog.”

“Then shouldn’t Y/N be relegated to one of the cars?” Roger yells out.

You grab your purse and notebook and start to walk off the bus, but Brian grabs your arm and stops you. “No, she’s not going to be relegated to anywhere but here,” he fusses. “You want to bring your friend along? You go ride in one.”

“No, I’ll go,” you say. “I don’t particularly feel welcomed here.”

Freddie stands up to block your path and turns to Roger. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you two now but I’m not standing for another second of it.” He looks at the girl and smiles. “Darling, I’m sorry, but there’s no room for you on the bus.” He turns his gaze to Roger, who is looking at the girl and shrugging his shoulders, making her storm away in a huff. The driver closes the door and Brian guides you back to your seat.

You throw yourself down and stare out the window. One more month. A whole month left on this tour and for the first time you don’t know if you’re going to make it. This last month has been nothing short of a whirlwind, and you thought you had gotten past the worst part unscathed, but now you’re wondering if the worst is yet to come. “Hey,” Brian says as he sits next to you.

“Hey,” you say with a small smile as you turn and look at him. “What’s up?”

He smiles softly. “Just want to make sure you’re alright.” You nod yes and he pats your arm. “You’ve been with us long enough to know how he can be.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I’ve grown quite immune to his bullshit,” you giggle. But really, this time you’re taking it personally. But you’re also hiding it very well. Brian goes to join the others and you’re finally left alone, just like you want to be, turning your focus on your notebook as you start to jot your words down.

November 23, 1978 – St. Louis, Missouri Roger has been quiet, not speaking to anyone and staying to himself. Everyone has been, really, after the minor blow up on the bus last night. There was no tension, no awkwardness, just a different vibe than before. You knew it would pass. Maybe everyone was tired of the monotony of being on the road. You’re not sure, but you’re not letting it consume your thoughts. You’re here to do a job, and that’s what you’re going to do. You also convinced Mike to fork out money for a plane ticket, which will give you a three-day break from everyone, since you’ll be skipping the show in Richfield and flying straight to Cincinnati tomorrow afternoon.

As always, the show went off without a hitch and everyone perked up. Even you. You often felt almost the same adrenaline rush they did, but tonight it even cheered you up. It cheered you up so much you even joined the guys at the hotel bar, something you haven’t been doing lately, trying to keep yourself sober because you meant it when you told yourself that “it” was not going to happen with Roger again.

The alcohol was flowing tonight, though, and you were taking advantage of it. The music was good, too, and you were enjoying dancing around like an idiot with John. One of the crew members was enjoying watching you, and he made every bit of effort to get as close to you as possible. You didn’t mind. He was cute. You didn’t know his name, but that wasn’t important. Roger was watching you like a hawk, his eyes taking note of your every move. You didn’t notice like you did when he was doing this in New Orleans. You didn’t notice because you convinced yourself that you didn’t care. Not anymore. You didn’t notice until the nameless crew member’s hand touched your hip and Roger came swooping in like the hawk he was being, pulling the guy away from you. “She’s off limits,” he tells the guy with an angry look as he pushes him back.

“Really, Roger?” you yell. “What the fuck are you doing?” The look on his face lets you know that he doesn’t even know why he did that. You roll your eyes and walk away from him, but he follows.

“Y/N, wait!” he calls out, but you keep walking, heading for the elevator. When you walk in, he hurries and walks in behind you, letting the doors close and watching you stand in the corner with every ounce of frustration you’re feeling right now emanating from your body. You walk up to press your floor’s button but he stops you. “Fucking talk to me,” he says.

“Don’t you dare turn this all around on me like I’m the one at fault this time,” you seethe, pushing your way past him to press the button. “You’re the one who walked out, not me.”

“Can I explain why…”

“No,” you cut him off. “I am here to write an article about a band. I am not here to have drama with the fucking drummer.”

“Maybe the fucking drummer is trying to figure out why he feels completely defenseless whenever you’re around.” You glare at him, not fully comprehending what he’s trying to tell you. “Jesus, Y/N, I don’t know how to handle any of this.”

The elevator door opens and you walk out, leaving him standing there alone. “Find me when you do,” you tell him. “Stop playing your stupid little game with me.”

The door starts to close, but he holds his hand out to stop it. “This isn’t a game.”

“Yes, it is,” you tell him. “You won. You got to fuck me. Congratulations.”

He walks out of the elevator and pushes you into the hall. “You think that’s all I wanted? Like you were some conquest?”

“Of course,” you smirk, your tone sarcastically dry. “And that’s okay. Because all I wanted was to fuck you, too.” You raise a brow, taking note of his shocked look. “What? You don’t think us girls can have our fun too?”

“I thought there was more…” he says, his voice drifting, feeling defeated, not finishing his statement.

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Oh, please, Roger. The second I dared question anything you freaked out and left. And then you spent the night with whatever her name is.” You walk to your room door, directly across from the elevator where he’s still standing and turn around. “And for the record, all I wanted to know was where you stood, to avoid any unnecessary tension for either of us. But of course, you couldn’t even let that happen without throwing a goddamn tantrum.” Normally, this is when he would start arguing with you, but he was just standing there, saying nothing, letting you unload on him. “I don’t know why nothing can just be simple with you. The smallest things are blown completely out of proportion and it’s maddening, Roger.” You turn back to your door and insert the key into the lock, wanting to walk inside, but you weren’t finished. “You know, I thought there was more too,” you say as you turn back around, but now he’s standing closer to you. “But when you walked up yesterday morning with her? That said it all, really.” He leans down and tries to kiss you, but you push him away. “No!” you yell. “No! Not this time. This isn’t how you fix things.” You open your door, walk inside, and slam it shut, leaving him on the other side.

November 26, 1978 – Cincinnati, Ohio Your self-imposed solitary confinement was going to be over soon since you’re in the back of a taxi cab heading to tonight’s venue. You thought three days alone would do you wonders, but all it did was leave you alone with your undistracted thoughts. There were even a few times you picked up the phone to call Mike and tell him to send someone else to finish, but you didn’t. You started this assignment and you were determined to finish it, your confused feelings about Roger be dammed. No more entangling yourself in his orbit. You were going to ignore him as best you could. Only talk to him when needed. A rock – that’s what you were going to be.

A rock. Right. More like ice that starts to melt into a massive puddle of water the second you see him sitting alone on the stage behind his drum kit smoking a cigarette. No one else is around. He sees you immediately and his eyes complete your proverbial transformation into liquid as he takes a quick drag off of his cigarette and looks at you with an almost blank expression. You don’t know if you should walk out or walk closer. It doesn’t matter, really, because you can’t move. You don’t even know if you’re breathing. And you don’t know why you’re stuck there, but you are, almost as if he’s telepathically forcing you to stay right where you are. He slowly stands up and walks over, not saying a word until he reaches you.

“I told Brian that I’m fucking crazy about you, Y/N,” he says, harping back to the discussion the two of them had when Brian caught the two of you alone on the bus a few days ago. “I told him that I think you are the strongest, smartest, most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” He starts to run his hand under his shirt collar and takes a deep breath. “I meant it when I told you I don’t know how to handle this, because I don’t… I don’t know how you feel about this. And when you asked me about it the other night, I panicked because I felt like a complete idiot.” You grab his arm and move closer. “You said this was meaningless, Y/N. But it’s not meaningless to me.” He pulls his arm away and backs himself up.

“It’s not…” you say, but you’re interrupted by voices in the background, so you move closer to him again so you can say what you want quietly. “It’s not meaningless,” you whisper. “I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“No, Y/N. No this isn’t meaningless,” he whispers. He wants to touch you, but eyes are around, and he notices a familiar face. “Find me after the show, alright?” You nod your head and he darts his eyes behind you, letting you know there was someone standing there. After he leaves, you turn around and are shocked.

“Mike sent me,” Daisy tells you. “Not to replace you, but to join you, so don’t get huffy.”

“To join me?” you ask, angrily. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, not making eye contact with you. “He just said that he wanted me to come.”

You’re furious, and you’re trying not to yell. “That’s bullshit, Daisy, and you know it. What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything. I don’t know…”

“You already told him I was fucking…” You turn down your tone. “You already told him I had something going on with Roger. So what did you tell him now?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, Y/N.”

“Don’t lie to me. You were pissed that they sent me and not you and now you’re here.”

“Oh hey Y/N’s friend!” Freddie yells from the stage. “Nice to see you again!” Daisy smiles and waves and turns her attention back to you.

“I’m here to help you, not take your job,” she snips. “To type up your stuff, make any phone calls you need, make sure you eat. Basically I’m here to do whatever you need or want me to do.” She nudges your shoulder and starts to laugh. “I’ve been demoted from staff writer to assistant.”

“Why’d you tell Mike anything?”

“I didn’t think he would flip out! I thought it was funny! Because of course you’d hook up with the drummer.” She starts to laugh, and you try hard not to, but you can’t help it. “Always the drummers with you.”

“I don’t like that one,” Freddie tells you in your ear, pointing to Daisy in the dressing area after the show. “I don’t trust her.”

“I don’t trust her either,” you groan. “But I can’t exactly do anything about it.”

“I think someone wants to talk to you,” he whispers in your ear, pointing to the door. You see Roger standing in the hall, a smile on his face, and one immediately draws on yours. “Go on. I’ll distract her.” You look at Freddie who is giving you an encouraging look, mouth a “thank you” and sneak out the door.

Roger takes your hand in his and sneaks you outside and to a car that is waiting. “I don’t want to have this conversation in there,” he tells you after sliding in the backseat next to you. “I don’t want to have it in here either,” he smirks. You nod your head and smile and sit in silence, your fingers entwined in his, for the 5 minute ride to the hotel. He doesn’t let your hand go as you get out of the car and during the walk to his room, and he’s still holding your hand as he guides you to sit on the bed.

“I…” He holds a finger up to your lips, and you stop talking.

“Let me say this while I have my words in order,” he says, and you give him your undivided attention. “I never wanted any of this until I had a taste of it. And now that I have, I don’t want to be without it.” He stands up and starts to nervously pace the floor as he runs his hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know how to describe it, what’s inside. I’ve been feeling so empty for so long.” He stops, trying to find the right words. “Something missing, you know?” You stand up and walk to him, getting as close as you can without touching him. “But when I’m around you…” He looks at you and can’t finish his statement. You share a look, letting him know that you know exactly what he feels.

“Almost like you were just going through the motions,” you whisper. “Not exactly…”

“Living,” he says, finishing your statement. “That night on the bus, when we were talking and you fell asleep on my shoulder?” He pulls you into his arms, softly smiling and looking deep into your eyes. “I think we can bring each other back to life, Y/N.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and softly rest your hands on the back of his neck. “I think we already have,” you whisper with a smile. He leans down and softly kisses you, his hand to your cheek.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmurs.

You smile and nod your head as he flashes you his killer smile. The tension of the past few days ebbed away as the passion ignited between you again, only this time there was no fighting. No frustration. No yelling or screaming. He falls to his knees, his hands crawling up between your thighs until they reach the button of your pants. You sigh a deep sigh as he slowly unbuttons them and slides them down. “Now there’s something I’ve missed,” he says with his raspy voice as he looks up to you and smirks. He brings his mouth close – so close you can feel the warmth of his breath – and you let your head fall back. He softly grasps your hips and pulls you closer before starting to move his tongue around your labia, sucking and teasing at your wet lips. He groans, bringing your arousal higher and excitement to burning point.

You start to twitch, and he slowly slides two fingers inside you while bringing you to the brink of orgasm in a flurry of tonguing. “Oh fuck,” you softly whisper as you grab his hair, your pelvis starting to buck as your quiet orgasm escapes you.

He stands up and kisses you hard, taking your tongue and rolling it with his like you were making love with that one kiss, sensual and building anticipation for what was to come. He starts to grind his body into yours, showing you his erection through his jeans and grabbing the hair at your nape to glue you to his lips. He has you at his mercy, just as you like it. You’re hungry for more, and he knows it.

He sits on the bed, and you sit behind him, kissing over his shoulder and undoing his shirt, his body practically on fire. He leans back, and you reach down to his erection, feeling how hard he is already. He quickly shucks off his jeans and settles into the bed. God, his cock is perfection, and you tell him so as you give him a nice slow hand job, bringing your lips to his head now and again to taste his flavor. He is delicious, and you can’t get enough, running your tongue up and down his length over and over. Not frantically – slowly, savoring this moment for as long as you can. “My beautiful Y/N,” he whispers as he softly runs his fingers through your hair.

Your muscles are clenching in desperation, begging you to sit on his dick right away to give him the ride of his life. You can’t wait a second longer. You straddle him and place your hands on his chest. He steadies you by the hips and stares right into your eyes as you guide him to your entrance before sinking down onto him, both of you letting out a loud gasp as you take him all the way in. You ride him hard, concentrating on taking his full length inside you as you look deep into his eyes. You sit straight up and he rips your shirt open, exposing your breasts to him and he grabs them, squeezing them together as you rock and grind on him. Oh, it’s so good, you arch your back and thrust your pelvis to increase the sensations to your clit, and suddenly you’re coming on him… already. You slow down and eased yourself off, smiling and rolling to the side. Your cheeks feel flushed with the afterglow. “Be gentle,” you whisper with a smirk as he pushes you onto your stomach and leans in to worship your ass with his hands and kisses.

He nibbles and gnaws at your flesh, sliding a finger in as he buries his face in. It’s absolute heaven, and you relish the slippery probing feel of his tongue licking from your pussy right up to your asshole, breaching your most private space for a moment before flicking out as if it didn’t happen. He swoops up to your face, kissing you again, his cock nudging at you. You pull up onto your knees, and he opens you up, pushing himself deep inside, slamming his full length in over and over again, his balls tapping your clit with every thrust. The stillness of the room is in such delicious contrast to what is going on between the two of you right now.

He presses his hand into your lower back as he works, the added pressure there making you feel truly owned and taken, as you bare down and meet him thrust for thrust. You look over your shoulder at him biting his lip. It’s super sexy knowing he’s trying to stop himself from coming. He knows you can take him all day long. Your groans, intermingled with the rhythm of his thrusts, make the most sublime soundtrack.

He grabs your tits over your bra and rolls you over, spreading your legs so he could eat you again. You drift off into that orgasmic place with your foot arched up over his back as he laps and teases you again with his tongue. He stops to snake his way up to spoon you and enters you from the side. It hits your g-spot perfectly, and you suck on his finger, hoping it feels as sexy as your wetness. The slapping noises add to the sexy rawness and you reach down to rub your clit while he pummels you. It feels so good to be so full and ravished. He cradles your thigh as he licks and teases your nipple, squeezing it to intensify the sensations he’s giving you right now. You rub your clit harder and start to cum hard on his cock again, floating off into that beautiful space. He grabs you tit and rubs it in time, handful after handful.

Pushing you onto your back, he settles between your legs, kissing you briefly before he drags you onto his cock again. He yanks your bra open and caresses your breasts as he penetrates you. You’re staring right into each other’s eyes, and it’s intense, more intense than any other time you’ve been together. You want to swallow him whole, take him inside of you forever and be one with him. He starts shuddering as he’s about to cum, and your eyes encourage him as he fills you completely with every last drop he can muster.

You hold a hand to his cheek and giggle as you kiss him. “This is not where I ever thought I’d be right now.”

“Where? Cincinnati?” he chuckles, and you push him off, rolling him on to his back. You snuggle into him, resting your head on his shoulder and start to trace a finger on his chest. “It’s going to be hard to keep you a secret, you know.”

“I’m hardly a secret,” you giggle.

“You’re right,” he says. “You’re not a secret.” He starts to chuckle. “You’re a groupie.”

“Wrong Roger, though,” you laugh.

“Back with us on the bus tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “And now we have Daisy…”

He quickly covers your mouth and chuckles. “I don’t want to talk about other women when I’m in bed with you.”

You laugh and pull his hand away. “What I’m saying is…” you say as you lean up on your side. “How in the hell am I going to be able to stay away from you for 8 whole hours?”

“We could knock her out,” he says with a serious tone, but clearly joking. “Stick her in with the luggage.”

“Give her to one of the roadies,” you say, only half joking. “I mean, there’s not really a lot of space on the bus.”

“Hmm,” he ponders. “I’m sure they can fit her in one of the cars.” He squeezes you tight and rests his head on yours. “I thought I lost you, Y/N. Not that I ever had you, but I thought…”

“I’m here now,” you tell him as you squeeze him back. “I’m not leaving.”

(I told y’all the angst wasn’t going to last too long!)

Permatags: @clogwearingspacepoodle @briansfatbottomgirl @culturefiendtrashqueen @jennyggggrrr @shutup-sorry @dontstopmemeow @letmelivetaylor @tommyleeownsme

Series tags: @toomuchlove-willkillyou @sunshine112 @ohtheseboysilove @luvborhap @painkiller80 @hannafuckingsucks @itsametaphorbriansblog @biscuit-barrel @capsparrowtara @asquiresofftime @aridrowse @geek-and-proud @a19103 @nicholeh7 @caborhapch @catch-a-deak @thebelgiancompanion @ultrablackwidower @maggieroseevans @protectrowanwhitethorn @mercurycrowley @amy-brooklyn99 @bellas2silly @rogxrtaylxr @gylfsz @amagicmess @thessxoxo @mariekuuuuuh @drowseoftaylor @bohemiansweede @loveandbeloved29 @radiob-l-a-hblah @ziggymay

[unfolded73]

The Things We Don't Speak Aloud (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

What if Johnny got to Marcy and Clint's motel room before David did during Meet the Parents, that was the question I posed on discord. And then I had to write it, because those are the rules. 2000 words, Rated G.

_________________________

Marcy looked around at the motel room she’d just stepped into while Clint muscled his suitcase over the threshold and closed the door. The decorations were… unique, that was probably the kindest thing she could say about them. Hopelessly out of date to be sure, but perhaps people liked the kitsch, she thought charitably. Perhaps that was why nothing appeared to have been updated in decades. She lifted her small suitcase onto the bed and went to unzip it, her mind already focusing on how she wanted to arrange her things in the drawers.

“Are we going to talk about what just happened?” Clint asked, making no similar moves toward unpacking.

She felt a spike of anxiety go through her, making her palms sweat. “Clint, until we know for sure what they were talking about, I don’t know if it’s fair to—”

“It seemed pretty clear what they were talking about, Marcy,” Clint said. “He literally said, ‘a business relationship and a romantic relationship.’ What else could he have meant?”

She dropped the sweater she’d been refolding and met her husband’s eyes. “So Patrick and… and David…”

“I guess so.”

“But if they’re a couple, why wouldn’t Patrick say anything? We aren’t homophobic.” She picked up the sweater again. “Maybe David’s father is confused. Or jumping to conclusions because they spend a lot of time together working at the store.”

Clint squinted at her. “He lives here and probably sees his son all the time. I don’t think he would have said it that way if they weren’t a couple.”

“But Patrick dated Rachel for years!” She paused, thinking it through while she went over and put the sweater in one of the dresser drawers. “I guess he could be bisexual.”

“That’s possible. Or it’s possible that he was trying very hard not to be gay, and that’s why ultimately things didn’t work out with Rachel. It would explain a lot. They way they kept breaking up. The way he ran away to start a new life somewhere else.” He sat down on the bed.

Marcy shook her head, a hand coming up to her mouth to hold in… she didn’t know what. “No, that’s… surely he would have talked to us if he was feeling that way. And he was happy with Rachel for a long time.”

“Was he?”

Marcy began unpacking more quickly, needing to accomplish a task, needing to move. “Yes, of course he was happy.”

“Not happy enough, though. Maybe he’s happier with David.”

She slumped her shoulders, suddenly exhausted. They’d gotten up before dawn to make this drive and the long hours on the road were taking their toll. “Should we maybe take a nap?”

Her husband nodded, recognizing the request for what it was — a plea not to talk about this anymore. “Good idea. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stay awake for a party if I don’t have a little rest.”

She put her suitcase aside and took off her shoes and stretched out next to her husband on top of the bedspread. Clint reached out for her hand, and she squeezed his fingers in return.

Marcy thought about the conversations she’d had with David on the phone. The way he talked about the store and the way he talked about Patrick. The way he talked about how smart Patrick was about the business. It hadn’t escaped her notice the way David spoke — the cadence and timbre of his voice, the uptilt of it on certain phrases, his encyclopedic knowledge of skin care products — yes, she’d assumed David was gay when she bothered to think about it at all. She’d mostly just thought that David seemed nice, based on his unfailing politeness with her.

Meanwhile, she’d gotten used to a certain amount of distance from her son. He’d barely spoken to them at all for the first couple of months after he left town, other than to say he was safe and that he needed a fresh start. Then came news of the business he was starting with David, and Patrick had begun to sound excited on the phone, talking about David’s vision for the store. He’d had a lot to say about what a good idea it was that David had, and how skilled he was with vendors and customers. She began to sift her memory of those glowing compliments through this new filter, where maybe her son had romantic feelings for his business partner. It made a certain kind of sense, now that she thought about it. It explained why any mention of Rachel caused him to shut down.

It perhaps explained, she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach, why any time she asked if he was dating anyone, he denied it and quickly changed the subject.

She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but Marcy did doze off briefly. She awoke after about a half hour to Clint puttering around with the tea kettle. Sitting up, she put her feet on the floor, her stomach still queasy with anxiety.

“So why didn’t he want to tell us?”

“Maybe… maybe they aren’t telling other people at all?” Clint posited.

“Mr. Rose knows. That weird Roland person knows. Both of them assumed we knew!” Then it hit her. “David assumed we knew. Right? If they’re out to people here, and he invited us to Patrick’s party…” She thought again about how warm David always was with her on the phone, taking time out of his day to ask after her health or make small talk with her when she called the store. The way he spoke about Patrick, which she never questioned because of course they knew each other well — they ran a business together. “What do we do now?”

Clint’s eyes widened. “I have no idea.”

There was a knock on the door.

Marcy went over and opened it, revealing Johnny Rose’s worried face and expressive eyebrows on the other side.

“Hi, Marcy. Mind if I come in to chat?”

“Johnny… yes, of course,” she said, widening the opening to admit him.

He clasped his hands together, eyes darting around the room. “I wanted to apologize to you both for speaking out of turn earlier. And saying… things that I assumed you… but it seems I was, er, that is, that I jumped to conclusions about…”

Marcy tried to rescue him. “You assumed we knew that Patrick and David are dating.”

Johnny cleared his throat. “Yes. And I just wanted to say, as a parent myself, that the important thing is that they’re happy. That’s all that matters. Who our kids love doesn’t matter.”

“Johnny, we don’t have a problem with Patrick being gay.” She looked over at Clint, who shook his head.

“No,” he said in agreement.

Johnny’s whole demeanor changed, his shoulders dropping as he smiled with relief. “Oh! Good, that’s good!”

They all smiled at each other for a second, unsure what to say next.

“Yes, anyway, we love Patrick,” Johnny said, rocking on his heels. “I probably should have said earlier, I was only skeptical about him and David at first. It’s been obvious for a while that they’re good for each other. Patrick’s become like a member of the family.”

“How, um, how long have they been together?” Marcy asked.

“Since not long after the store opened, as I recall.” Johnny said.

Heart pounding, Marcy dropped onto the bed next to where her husband was sitting. “Oh.”

“That’s a long time,” Clint said.

Johnny’s face fell as he probably realized that he’d once again delivered cataclysmic news to Patrick’s parents. It wasn’t just that he’d kept his sexual identity and his relationship with David a secret. He’d kept it a secret for over a year.

“You know, it can be a hard thing for kids to talk about with their parents,” Johnny said. “Goodness knows David and I haven’t always talked about what was going on in his life.”

Marcy latched onto that. Perhaps she had an expert here, someone who’d been through what they were going through. “Was it hard for David to come out to you and your wife?”

Johnny pulled over one of the chairs and sat down. “Well, it was different with David. Moira assumed he was gay from a fairly young age.” He threw up his hands. “I wasn’t sure, myself, but I figured he’d tell us when he was ready. Then when he was eighteen, he told us he was bisexual. Then later, he amended it to ‘pansexual’.” Marcy looked at Clint and saw that he looked just as confused as she felt. “The labels can be confusing,” Johnny continued, “and I know I said some things I shouldn’t have, at first. Asked him if it wouldn’t be easier if he picked a gender. Which I realize wasn’t… helpful. Or fair of me. I just wanted him to be happy. And he is now! So.” He shrugged, laughing awkwardly.

“But you always knew he wasn’t… straight,” Marcy said, disappointed that the Roses’ experience didn’t really mirror theirs that closely after all.

“Yes, I suppose we did know that. Moira knew, at least. She’s always understood David better than… anyway.” A shadow flitted across his face that looked a lot like guilt. “But I’m not sure it matters when we know. It only matters that we support our kids.”

Marcy nodded. “We do support him, of course we do. Of course we do,” she repeated, a lump rising in her throat. She felt Clint’s hand take hers, and she was afraid to look at him lest she start to cry in earnest.

“The thought that he didn’t think he could talk to us about this,” Clint said.

“When David’s obviously so important to him,” Marcy added.

Johnny looked at them with sympathy, and clearly with no idea what to say.

The shape of their failure as parents was starting to coalesce in her mind. The fact that while they’d never said anything bad about gay people in Patrick’s presence, they’d probably never said anything good either. The fact that ‘girlfriend’ and ‘wife’ were always the words they used when talking to young Patrick about what might happen when he grew up. The way she’d always encouraged him to try to patch things up with Rachel.

“Is Patrick happy?” she asked Johnny, embarrassed that she didn’t know and that this near-stranger likely did. But she had to ask. She was desperate to know.

Johnny hesitated, perhaps realizing what a complicated question that was to ask about anyone. “He certainly seems happy. But you can ask him yourself tonight, right?”

There was another knock at the door.

Marcy opened it to a tall man with dark hair and Johnny Rose’s expressive eyebrows. He was clutching a gift basket to his chest and looking apprehensive. It could only be one person. “David?” she asked.

“Mrs. Brewer, Mr. Brewer, hi. I’m—”

“David!” his father said, standing. “Come on in. The Brewers and I were just having a nice chat.”

David looked even more apprehensive at that as he shuffled into the room, eyeing his father with suspicion. “Why?”

Marcy took the gift basket from David, letting his hurried explanation about its contents drift by without paying it any attention. “David?” She still felt like she was on the verge of tears, even more so now that she was faced with the man that her son had apparently fallen in love with. “Can I give you a hug?”

[seriouslyhooked]

Lost Souls and Reveries (Part 18)

22 part AU written for @cssns​. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13,Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17. Story available on AO3 Here and FF Here. Banner created by the amazingly talented @shipsxahoy​!!

Killian Jones is a wolf shifter without roots, without plans, and without a pack. He’s a rogue, someone humans should avoid and shifters should be wary of given his lineage. But one night years back set him on a path he didn’t realize he was taking, a path leading to a future he is destined for. That future is tied up in one woman – a human named Emma Nolan. Together Emma and Killian will find not only answers, but a love that’s truly fated. But will love be enough to set them free, or will past demons win out in the end? (Answer: love always wins – I am writing this so despite some tiny pockets of angst it’s basically a fluff-filled insta-love fest). Rated M.

A/N: Hey everyone! So another chapter of ‘Lost Souls and Reveries’ is finally here, and this one brings… well a lot of stuff I don’t think any of you are expecting. We open in cuteness and move to an unforeseen complication, and honestly a lot of really heavy emotions. This chapter talks a lot about loss and about the grief that comes after you’ve lost someone you love. It’s heavy at times, but rest assured, we will get closure and we will end in a good place. That being said, if you’re worried about reading it and being upset, I am more than willing to answer any questions before, or tell you what you miss in this chapter so you can skip to the next one. The scenes I’m talking about will come in Emma’s POV, which is the second part of the chapter. Either way, I’m really looking forward to seeing what you all think of this installment, and as always, thanks so much for reading!

So this is what it means to be truly blissful.

Killian had thought the same thing a hundred times in the past week, and each time it was just as true. For seven whole days he’d had everything he could ever dream of. Liam had returned and there was renewed hope that his brother could find a second chance. The anxiety and fear that had long lingered in the back of Killian’s mind was gone now. Instead, Killian felt the certainty of hope. He believed with an unyielding conviction that Liam’s return heralded a new day for all of them. It filled the world with promise, and though life had been no less busy with his brother’s arrival, it was exactly what Killian wanted.

Despite his baser wish to hide away with Emma and revel in their still new bond to each other, his lovely mate had other commitments. She and her father did invaluable work at their clinic, serving the town in a way that couldn’t be avoided long term. Killian was proud of all Emma accomplished, and loved how much she loved what she did even if it meant their days were filled with some hours apart. In the meantime Killian had been preparing – working towards cementing his life here and helping Liam to do the same. While there was no need to work, Killian felt strongly that he and Liam should do something together, for that was what they’d always thought might happen when they were young. Killian also felt strongly that he wanted to find the perfect spot for his next chapter with Emma. There were many beautiful homes here in Storybrooke, but the hunt for the right one was proving a bit laborious, though Killian was more than up for the challenge. All in all they were adjusting still, but things here felt right, like this was the home Killian and his brother had always been meant to find.

Mixed in with all of this business and responsibility, there were also extensive chances for fun as well. Emma’s family and friends were great fans of barbeques and dinner parties, of bonfires on the beach and the occasional fireworks show and all of it was a welcome change to Killian. What a new feeling it was to celebrate a summer again, to revel in the lazier days, the subtle heat, and unfiltered sunshine. The sea this time of year was picture perfect, and he and Liam had found themselves there a number of times, reminding him of the good times they’d had as kids in England. He was reinvigorated by the freedom and connection that Storybrooke provided. He’d never felt such a sense of belonging or peace, and though each moment had been miraculous, none of them ever compared to the ones like where it was just he and Emma.

Right now was a truly quiet moment. While he had risen with the sun and the songbirds, Emma was still nestled up beside him, holding close even as dreams still claimed her. She was totally relaxed and indescribably beautiful, with her golden hair tumbling around her and the long, lean lines of her body intertwined with his. Emma was perfection itself, and Killian couldn’t tear his gaze away or keep from grinning at all of his good fortune. He didn’t know how long he stayed this way, luxuriating in the easy comfort of this moment, but soon enough the quiet was broken with sultry words from his lovely mate.  

“How is it that I know you’re smiling, even without opening my eyes?”

The words from Emma as she stirred awake were thick but sensual, gripped with lingering sleep but filled with love and amusement. His siren might tease him this morning, but there was no doubt of her happiness at his unbridled joy, not when the first thing she did was meet his eyes and share a brilliant smile of her own. Her green eyes sparkled, and her lips called to him, demanding that he greet her with the kiss he’d been craving from the moment he woke up.

“You know because there is nothing in my life but goodness, now, love. I have you and so I have everything.”

“Everything?” Emma asked, her eyes filled with feeling as her fingers traced over the muscles of his chest.

“Everything. With you I have more than any man would dare to dream of. I want for nothing, Emma, as long as I have you.”

“Well I don’t know about that,” Emma said, her eyes heating up as her gaze slid down his body. He made no move to cover himself, knowing that the sheet that draped over them last night was no longer there thanks to the summer heat. His core muscles flexed unconsciously as a response to Emma’s eyes hungrily taking him in. They moved down his chest and his abs to the hard length that had woken him this morning. It was a given when he was allowed to hold his love all night long that he should always need her, but that need ramped up even higher as Emma licked her lips and her eyes shot back to his. “I think we both know there’s more you’re wanting right now.”

“Perhaps,” Killian said, pulling a surprised gasp from her lips and then a laugh as he moved above her quickly, but it turned into a moan as he moved his lips to her neck kissing her before he nipped at her sensitive skin. “But I can sense my mate is just as willing and desirous as I am.”

“Always,” Emma sighed out, her hands clutching to him and driving him mad as the love continued to grow between them. “I always want you. It’s never enough, even if it’s everything.”

Killian knew exactly what she meant when she said that, and so no more words were needed. What Emma wanted was action, and Killian was desperate to give it to her. He traced every beautiful line of her body and every erogenous place that drove his love wild with his hands and his mouth. He chronicled every sound she made, every arch for closeness, and every beg for more, feeling more alive as he brought her closer to the edge than he ever could outside of this space between them. He gave over to his instincts and his urges, feasting on the love of his life, and tasting as she came not once but twice. He’d have stayed there forever, blending Emma’s need for slow steady patience at the start that then became faster and more demanding, but his beauty had other ideas, bringing him up over her again before taking control and giving them both what they wanted. They chased a joint completion, crashing towards an all too blissful finish, and when Emma’s soft plea fell from her lips that begged him to come with her he was lost. He had no choice but to give in, and then revel in the glory that was their love made real.

“So, is it living up to all that you expected?” Killian asked when they’d both regained their breath enough to speak again. Emma arched a brow at his question and he couldn’t help grinning at her perplexed look. “The calm after the storm. This is the normal you wanted, isn’t it?”

“I would hardly call anything we just did normal,” Emma countered, pressing another kiss to his lips as a smile played at the corners of her mouth.

“What would you call it?” Killian growled, his want for her growing again even though they’d just sated this need a moment ago.

“I’d call it perfect or destined or fated,” Emma whispered, her eyes misting up a little in a show Killian knew was brought on by sheer joy. “Every day I think maybe some of this will fade, but it never does. I love you more today than yesterday, and I know tomorrow will be the same. It’s so much more than normal. It’s exceptional.”

There was no way to hear this and not immediately want to ravish her again. Where Emma had breathtaking words that mirrored his own feeling so exquisitely, he had physical response. He’d show her all over again just how much he loved her, but then a knock sounded at the door, and without even knowing who was behind it Killian groaned loudly. This prompted Emma to laugh, which in turn lit him up inside, but he resented the fact that whoever had come to see them was ending this moment for the time being. Emma got out of bed, finding some clothes to throw on and pulling her hair back in a tie as she mirthfully watched him where he still lay in bed.

“I think it’s safe to say you jinxed us. You said our life was peaceful, but you forgot, we don’t really do calm, quiet moments. At least not for long.”

“No I guess we don’t,” Killian said, admitting defeat and getting up. Before he went about clothing himself though, he brought Emma in for another kiss, taking delight in the way she went a bit breathless and the touch of pink kissed her cheeks as her eyes widened ever so slightly.

“I’ll get the door while you get dressed. There’s no telling who this is, and if it’s my Mom…”

“If it’s your mother, I’ve got roughly thirty seconds before all hell breaks loose. Aye, I know, love. I’ll get a move on.”

Killian took comfort in Emma’s laughter that reverberated through this home that he thought of as theirs. It was small, but it was bursting with life and with love, and Killian knew that while it wouldn’t be their forever place, he couldn’t think of giving it up. Someday soon, if all went as he hoped, Emma and him would marry and then grow their family, but he had enough saved away to keep this place and any other home they may acquire in town. Perhaps it was strange to think that way, but Killian had eyes set on the future, even as he and Emma shared an incredibly present.

“Elsa, are you all right? Did something happen?”

The words from Emma spurned Killian to dress faster and close the space between them. He moved hastily to the front hall, seeing that Elsa was not alone outside. His brother stood next to her, and behind them were Ruby, Graham and Anna. Not a one of them looked to be at all happy to be here, and Killian immediately felt the same sense of foreboding that his mate was grappling with. These were their dearest friends and family, and there was clearly something very wrong.

“I’m fine, Emma. Just tired, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Elsa, I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know that’s not true. You’re more than tired. You’re shaking, you’re pale -,”

“Well technically I’m always pale,” Elsa joked, but Killian could see what Emma meant. Her friend was whiter than normal, and there were dark circles forming underneath her usually bright blue eyes.

“Elsa, you look like you’d topple over at the next strong breeze. What’s happening?”

“It’s my fault,” Liam said, his voice gruff with anger at himself and pain at his mate’s suffering. Killian’s brows knit together. How was Liam the cause for this? Surely he’d never willingly do anything to harm Elsa. He’d rather die than do so.

“It’s not, Liam,” Elsa attested, squeezing his hand as she looked at him with nothing less than full-blown love. “All of this is just a lot for my magic to handle.”

“Elsa’s essence and Liam’s are being tied together naturally,” Ruby explained. “Their mating bond has created a natural sharing of energy, but it’s not sustainable for it to go on this way. The sickness is strong, and right now Elsa is overextended.”

“So what do we do? How do we fix this?” Emma asked, ready to do whatever it took to help her friend. Killian pulled her back to him, and though she was still determined, Emma welcomed the gesture, pulling strength from him and his supportive presence.

“There is a way,” Anna said, her usually bubbly demeanor now softened and unsettling. Emma’s friend was quieter than Killian had ever seen her, leading him to believe the answer would not be a satisfactory one. “We found a spell in the family archives that essentially ties two lives together. Our great-great aunts used it when one of them was sick as a teenager. They blended their life lines together, making them both healthy for many more years. They lived together for decades, and ultimately passed together too.”

“That’s amazing,” Emma said and Killian nodded in agreement. It sounded spectacular to him, but also, Killian was guessing, very dangerous.

“It is,” Elsa agreed. “But the thing is, when we’ve done this, my magic will be severely limited. I’ll still have it, but it won’t be as strong.”

“Oh,” Emma whispered, but where she seemed to understand something new from Elsa’s disclosure, Killian was still at a loss. True Elsa had just recently discovered her gifts, but what was a little sacrifice when it came to securing a life long love?

“What am I missing here?” he asked, and after a moment of awkward silence, Emma filled in with her own guess.

“Elsa was going to help lift my block if I ever decided I was ready to be a shifter. She was going to do what she did for Neal with me.”

The weight of that came crashing back into Killian, and though he’d never forgotten that Emma was a hybrid of two species, he had allowed himself to forget that this was a risk she could someday face. He knew that Emma was unsure about what she wanted, but deep down Killian also realized the what-if would always stay with her. A part of Emma was a brilliant, vibrant animal, just as he was, and he knew first hand how hard it must be to not feel truly whole by not having an open connection with one’s wolf. As much as he loved her, and as much as she loved him, it would always be something missing if she didn’t rectify that rift. Killian grieved for Emma, believing as she did that Elsa was saying she could no longer perform such magic. But a not so little part of him was relieved that the choice had been made already and that Emma would not undergo such a potentially dangerous process when she was well and healthy right now.

“I still can,” Elsa said, prompting Killian’s heart to plummet. “It’s just… well the time table has moved up a little.”

“How much?” Killian asked, and Elsa looked at him blinking in confusion. “How much time does she have to decide? A few weeks? Days?”

“Hours,” Ruby replied.

“Hours?” Emma parroted, her voice flying up an octave.

“The sooner this is done the better for Elsa,” Ruby reiterated. “She’s only growing weaker, and she needs as much energy as she can possibly garner. Also, the moon is strong right now and the tides will be in longer than they normally would, meaning Emma’s wolf will hopefully be stronger too, even if she’s currently suppressed.”

“But you don’t have to do this, Emma,” Anna assured her. “If you’re not ready it’s okay. We can probably figure something else out. We can study Elsa’s memories more and maybe together Ruby and I can -,”

“No,” Emma said, halting Anna’s words and making Killian’s heart skip painfully again. “I’m sorry, Anna, I know you mean well, but it has to be Elsa. I don’t know why, but I just… know.”

“Just like you know that this is what you want,” Killian said, not needing to ask a question when he could feel Emma’s decision coursing through the link between them. She looked at him then, turning to face him and focusing solely on him. Her arms wrapped around him and he pulled her close, and though he was worried and so damn scared – more scared that at any other point in his life – he did everything he could not to show it.

“This isn’t just my choice, Killian, and I know that. I won’t do this if you think I shouldn’t.”

He was so close to saying just that, but Killian couldn’t take that choice from Emma. He loved her with everything he was, and sometimes love meant giving up one’s peace of mind in the name of their love’s happiness. He knew he could never live without Emma, and so her risking herself in this way was a risk to him too. But in the depths of her jade colored eyes Killian could still see belief that this would be okay. She was hopeful, despite the odds stacked against it, and because Emma’s hope had never served him wrong before, he chose to follow it again. He brought his hand to push away a strand of her wayward hair, his fingers running lightly against her cheek as he memorized her every feature.

“I trust you, Emma, and I trust in us. We’ve a lifetime ahead of us, and if you and Elsa feel good about this, then this is what we do.”

Emma’s eyes looked to Elsa and the two of them shared a nod of certainty. Killian felt his throat tighten at the choice, but he stood by what he’d said. He would follow her anywhere, even if it terrified him in every way.

“What do we need to do?” Emma asked. “Can we do it here? Now?”

“But Emma, your parents. Maybe you should…” Graham let the idea trail off, knowing that his thought process insinuated that Emma should be saying goodbye. That riled Killian up, and he stiffened up at the notion, but Emma put her hand on his chest above his heart to calm him as she responded.

“There’s no need to worry them. It’s going to be fine, and I don’t want to put them through that. After everything with Neal… they just should never have to face something like that again.”

“That’s your choice,” Anna said with a nod. “And we will all respect that.”

The group agreed, and things felt like they moved impossibly quickly from there. Killian’s nerves continued to fray as he watched Elsa, Anna, and Ruby get everything ready. It seemed that Elsa’s memories had given enough clues of how this worked to instruct some of their choices, but Killian felt lost and unhelpful at every turn. There was nothing he could do except support Emma and try to keep the terror he was feeling from showing and worrying his mate. When everything was finally ready, Elsa looked to Emma, another silent exchange between the friends telling Emma that it was time. For the first time Killian could see that Emma wasn’t as calm, cool, and collected as she’d been before. She was still certain this was what she wanted, but Killian could sense her fear and unease. Not knowing what would happen was a scary thing, but in seeing Emma falter, Killian felt his own courage rise. He had to be there for her to defend and protect her, and though he couldn’t do much, he could remind her that he loved her always, and that he’d be here every step of the way.

“I’ll be right here, Emma. There’s no need to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Emma let out a soft laugh at his resolve, and then pulled him down by the collar of his shirt so he was jut a breath away. “I know you won’t. But trust Elsa, okay? If it looks a bit dodgy at any point you have to respect her choices. She’ll know what to do. Right?”

Emma looked to Elsa who nodded and responded with an immediate, “Yes.” This prompted Emma to finally be led to the couch, the place that Elsa had decided was best for the treatment. She lay back, closing her eyes for a moment, before opening them again and looking only at him.

“Don’t let go, okay?” Emma whispered, and though she smiled at him, Killian could sense her lingering fear. He swallowed harshly, fighting against his own emotion and nodded.

“I’ll never let you go, love. I love you, Emma. You can do this.”

With that Emma nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, and then Elsa moved her hands to hover over her, and Killian and the others watched in awe as magic filled the room and the process of blending Emma’s souls began.

…………………

It was beyond difficult to act like she wasn’t scared shitless at the thought of submitting herself to such an unknown magic, but Emma did everything she could to hold on to her calm. It should have been impossible to do so, but the love in Killian’s eyes was so comforting, and knowing that he would never leave her helped Emma to push forward.

Closing her eyes and giving into this was a monumental task. Emma tried not to hyperventilate and to count the breaths she took. She heard Elsa’s words, felt the warmth of her magic, and eventually her mind evened out, settling into something more comfortable than fear. The sounds all around her faded, and Emma transitioned into a new state of calm that made her feel like things must be going okay. It could have been seconds or days that she stayed like this, but finally Emma’s consciousness told her to open her eyes again. She expected to see the ceiling of her and Killian’s home, or maybe the faces of the people she loved most, but what she saw instead was as beautiful as it was perplexing.

As her gaze took in her surrounding, the light she saw was too raw and too natural for her to be in the right place. It glowed like the first few moments where sun breaks through the clouds on a gloomy day. The gentle swirls of gold were lovely, but it didn’t fade as Emma blinked her eyes from the sleepy state of rest she’d just been in. When she saw the canopy above her she felt her brow furrow in confusion. She inhaled the air around her, sensing she was definitely outside, and that this wasn’t a trick of her imagination. There was the hearty smell of forest with the softest kiss of something floral. A cool breeze settled over the grass around her, and as she realized she was laying somewhere on the ground and not on the couch she’d started on she bolted up.

“Oh no,” Emma whispered, her eyes watering immediately as she contemplated what may have happened. Had she… no please, say it wasn’t so. Had she really sacrificed all of her happiness only to have it end so soon? She felt ready to crumble at the thought, when a voice sounded out around her.

“You’re not dead, you’re healing, becoming something new. It’s all right, Emma. Everything is going to be all right.”

The words came from a voice just shy of familiar, and Emma jumped at the realization that there was anyone else here at all. Then when she turned to find out who had spoken, she was struck by the sight of a beautiful woman who she had never seen before. This woman was a complete stranger to Emma, dressed in a flowing light green dress that danced in the slight gusts of wind around them. Her hair was curled and long, held back by a bold emerald ribbon, and the color was so dark it was nearly black. Her skin was fair, spattered with a few freckles that Emma could see even from this distance, and those eyes – she’d only ever seen eyes of that exact shade one place in her life, but that had to be a coincidence. Surely no one else in the world could have the same eyes as Killian.

“I don’t understand,” Emma said, not knowing how to formulate any other thoughts. The woman smiled, and again Emma was struck by the resemblance this woman had to the love of her life.

“Oh I think you do, Emma, at least to some degree. But let me clarify so as to spare you that impossible question. My name is Meera, Meera Jones.”

A physical bomb detonating in that moment would have been less jarring to Emma than that claim. At some level Emma knew it could be true. Just looking at this woman, the resemblance was uncanny. She could see Killian and Liam so acutely in her features, but Emma’s rational mind argued that it couldn’t be possible. Their mother was killed so many years ago, and seeing her while also being alive had to be, by definition, impossible.

“I thought you said I wasn’t dead,” Emma blurted and though she was mortified for a second, she was instantly soothed by the sound of genuine laughter. It was easily given, and though it was distinct from Killian’s, Emma sensed a familiarity in it, as if her bond with the man she loved gave her insight into this special sound he must cherish deep in his memories.

“You aren’t. You are still very much alive, but this is a plane outside of life and death, it just… is.”

Meera gestured at their surroundings, and though Emma took the time to look around again, tracking all of the wild natural beauty that was bursting with energy while still being still and tranquil, she noticed Meera didn’t do so. Her lack of interest in this otherworldly place interested Emma, and ultimately curiosity about the particulars of this meeting right now won out.

“But you… I mean, Brennan…” Emma blanched as she realized that hearing the name of her psychopathic husband/killer might upset Killian’s mother.

“It’s okay, my dear, you can say his name. Brennan took me from my boys too soon,” she acknowledged, and though the words were painful, it didn’t sound like Meera was carrying that pain any longer. Killian’s mother seemed calm and unbothered, as if she’d long ago accepted what her fate had been. It was an unexpected response, when Emma knew forgiveness must be near impossible when someone had wronged you so horribly, but the perseverance in this woman’s whole demeanor inspired her. She wasn’t devoid of feeling; she simply had stopped giving the evil actions of her husband any kind of power. “He had his reasons, at least in his mind.”

“But why? Just for revenge? Because you left?”

“No. In the end, his actions had very little to do with me leaving at all. It wouldn’t have mattered if I stayed or left. He wanted me gone forever, and he told me as much when he found me. I was always a means to an end, and running, in the end, gave me so much more precious time with my boys. Time I am incredibly grateful for.”

“It’s not right though. You should have had so much more.”

“I wish we could have, but the thing about dying is that you truly learn a lesson we’re all taught when we’re very young,” Meera said, pausing a moment before explaining to Emma. “You realize that life really does unfold with purpose. Things happen for a reason, things end in their time, and every pain and every heartbreak serves a purpose. It hurts you, it changes you, but it ultimately makes you, you. Brennan understood that in his own twisted way, and he thought that my death would push my sons towards a darkness not unlike his own. He hoped to take my boys and make them monsters just like him, and he knew that as long as I lived, I would never let that happen.

“But despite his best laid plans, Brennan ultimately failed, because he neglected to understand that a mother’s love is stronger than life and death. It doesn’t ever end or fade. It is eternal. I loved my sons from the first moments they knew life, and I will love them always and infinitely. Truly nothing could take me from them, and I’ve been with Killian and Liam every step of the way.”

“You protected them,” Emma said, knowing from the fierce love in Meera’s eyes that she’d done everything she possibly could from whatever kind of spirit world this was.

“In every single way I could, but even a mother’s love has limits. I hoped that time would heal all wounds, but for my boys the wounds seemed to get worse and worse, just in different ways. I’ve fretted over that for years, until you came dear.”

“Me?” Emma asked and Meera nodded, stepping close enough to pull Emma into a huge bear hug. Emma was surprised for a moment, but accepted the gesture, hugging this remarkable woman back not just for her but for Killian and Liam too.

“I’m sorry, I know I should have asked,” Meera said as she pulled back while shaking her head. “I just don’t know what else to do. You saved my sons – both of them.”

“I didn’t,” Emma said but Meera cut her off.

“You did.  You opened my youngest boy up to love when he’d hardened himself to goodness on the whole. You brought him back, you made him remember,” she said, her words whispered with the subtle tone of tears. “I fought for years to be close to Killian, to guide him, to help him feel like hope wasn’t lost and like he wasn’t alone, but I couldn’t reach him. He closed himself off in order to survive, but when he found you he remembered how to live. In Boston you paved the way, and in Storybrooke you changed him for the better, and through your love you saved Liam too. My sons will be healthy and whole now. They will live long and lovely lives, all because of you.”

“You sound so sure of that,” Emma responded and Meera gave a small shrug.

“That’s because I am. Things work differently here. Fate is clearer, and she makes no attempt to hide. I’ve known since I came here how things would end. I held onto it every day – my impossibly possible dream. I knew that you would heal my family, just as I know that you will make it grow.”

“You mean like kids?” Emma asked, her hand absentmindedly moving across her abdomen as Meera looked to her totally flat stomach with a knowing smile.

“Your children will be beautiful and wonderful, Emma. They’ll be the perfect blend of you and Killian. And yes, some may be here a bit sooner than expected, but that just means more priceless time to love them. Don’t let any of it go to waste, my dear. It’ll never be enough, no amount of time can be.”

“I – I don’t know what to say,” Emma replied, her mind and heart both overwhelmed by all of this.

“You don’t have to say anything. All you have to do is believe that you and Killian have everything you need to walk this life together. You two can and will weather every storm. No matter what comes, you’ll be ready. Just think of all you’ve already done for your children without even knowing they would come.”

Emma nodded, appreciating that thought even though she was still stunned. Kids. She was going to have kids, and from what Meera was saying, it sounded like one – or maybe more – was already on the way. Was she okay with that? Yes, her mind thought immediately and she smiled at the way things were shaping up.

“I need to thank you, Emma. It’ll never be enough, no words ever could be, but I am so grateful for all that you have done. You believed in love and took the risk, and in doing so, you inspired Killian to do the same. That is no easy feat, but you rose to the challenge. I owe you everything, and I will always be in awe of all that you have done.”

“It was just as much Killian’s work as mine. He’s saved me just as much as I’ve saved him,” Emma confessed, and at this Meera smiled even brighter.

“You are partners, equals in all ways. Well almost. There’s just one last thing that needs doing.”

Meera motioned to the tree line and Emma saw the white wolf that had been in her dreams so many times before. The beast was beautiful and bold, unflinching and unafraid. Her fur was a silky, creamy color, almost white, but laced with a hint of gold. Immediately Emma started to walk towards the animal, pulled in by her presence in ways she couldn’t explain, she didn’t even have the space to think if that was rude to Meera. She had to go see this part of herself that had always been there, but never truly in reach. But when they were close enough to touch Emma faltered, wondering what it was she was meant to do.

“Listen to your instincts Emma, for there is where your wolf will meet you.”

Emma heeded Meera’s command as she tried to listen to her inner thoughts. She allowed herself to trust her gut, and to follow the eyes of the animal before her. Finally she nodded at the beautiful beast before her, and she stood unflinching as the animal charged at her, jumping at her but landing with no impact, instead dissolving into Emma’s very being. The moment that they blended together was transcendent, and aside from the moment that she’d first seen and bonded with Killian, it was the strongest lightening bolt of rightness that she’d ever been struck by. Suddenly Emma felt so much more and sensed the whole world around her in new and transformative ways. She’d internalized her gifts, and the world was an all the more glorious thing to behold because of it. 

“Amazing! That was fantastic, and so much easier than it was with Neal.”

“Neal?” Emma asked, her level of surprise vastly outpacing what it had been even ten seconds ago when her wolf essentially crashed into her innermost being. “You know my brother?”

“I do, but let’s finish the task at hand before I explain why, okay? Best to settle the present before we journey back into the past.”

Emma agreed to give Meera time, and she listened with rapt attention as Killian’s mother explained to her what shifting was like and how to access her animal now that they were joined. She was a wonderful teacher and patient and kind when Emma faltered slightly, but soon enough it became second nature, and Emma felt the power and the pleasure of being connected to her wolf and in command of her shifter abilities. She sprinted at top speed, loving the complete command she had of her body. She fed off of the exertion, living for the feel of a hunt and the adventure of running through unknown wilds. She tried out her strength, jumped higher than she could have imagined, and learned so much that she knew was still only at the surface of her potential. Soon she was pleased with all of it that her wolf acted on instinct, howling into the open air and prompting a feint echo in the distance.

“You are a natural, Emma,” Meera said with glee as she clapped her hands excitedly once they’d shifted back to human form and returned the quiet calm of the field where they had started. “Killian won’t know what to do with himself.”

Emma was happy to hear that, and she knew Meera was right. Killian and her would get the chance to share so much, and in time share that gift with their own little ones too.

“But I know you have questions, and I promised to answer them. Ask away, Emma. I swear I will tell you everything I can.”

“How is it possible that you were there for Neal?”

“That was fate acting in her way,” Meera replied with a smile. “The night you and Killian met in Boston, you two couldn’t know what you were to each other. You were still too young, and mates must come of age to sense their bond in all its glory. But I knew exactly what you’d become to each other, and could see it all. I was curious to know who this girl was that was so right for my boy, and so I stayed with you. I watched you pull yourself together after facing such a terrifying moment and I knew then that you were strong and brave. Then I saw what life had given you so far and I understood that bravery had become part of the very fabric of who you are. 

“Seeing your brother and the grief your family was facing, my heart broke for you all, and I knew I had to help in some way. I saw that the doctors couldn’t fix this. Neal needed magic, and you already had magic in your life, even if you never knew. I couldn’t believe how fortunate that was, and when I realized that Elsa was meant for Liam… well it was one of the happiest days I’ve ever known, experiencing all this newfound hope for my boys. I sent Elsa a dream that night, and low and behold she came. Then, when she wielded her magic on your side, I was here, helping however I could.

“It was admittedly much harder the first time around. Your brother was so young, too young to shift, and he had no idea about any of this. Explaining shifters to him was tricky. I didn’t know much he should know, and I had no idea how he could blend his shifter self with his human self. He was so fascinated by this world and his wolf was still just as young and excitable, and he and his animal ran and ran and ran. I think he was so sick for so long that running was a relief to him. I couldn’t bring myself to stop his fun. Lord knew he’d had so little of it those long hard months.”

Emma felt tears running down her cheeks as she held herself together at the thought. It made her so happy to think that Neal had had that experience because Meera was right. His illness had been so draining and limiting. Running must have felt amazing after so long spent in confinement.

“Does he remember any of this?” Emma asked and Meera smiled again.

“That I don’t know. I think he chalked it up to a dream, but knowing how smart Neal is, he could very well understand it all. I did tell him that this had to stay a secret and that when the time came for him to tell your family, he would know.”

“You never know with him,” Emma said with a laugh. “But we’ll find out soon enough when he comes home.”

“Yes, and there will be plenty to catch him up on. The story is hardly finished, but you just need to remember what I said Emma, it will all be okay in the end. You can handle this and everything still to come.”

Emma didn’t know what Meera was speaking of. It felt like she was being purposefully vague so as to not give Emma too much insight into the future, but as she reached out to touch Emma’s stomach Emma knew that her hint about babies had been a real one. Inexplicably Emma felt a stirring inside too, and she realized it was her wolf confirming that she was in fact pregnant already with her and Killian’s cub.

From there, Emma’s questions were a little less easy to respond to. Meera couldn’t give the particulars of how she’d gotten here or what things were like here long term. She could only say that unfinished business had kept her from being able to move forward. Until she knew that Liam and Killian would be okay, her soul would never rest easy, but that business was now resolved after years of uncertainty. Meera also shared that while Elsa had an incredible gift, this would be the last time such a spell could ever be wielded. Once she and Liam were truly mated the door would be closed, but since everyone who wished to be a shifter was now able to do so, and since all of Emma’s children wouldn’t suffer the remnants of this block, there should be no need for such an exorbitant magical showing. Meera than gave Emma some last tips about communing with her animal, and reminded Emma that while time was a great teacher, she already had all the same tools of a wolf at her disposal.

“Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this without you,” Emma confessed and Meera hugged her close again before pulling back and wiping away a happy tear.

“You are stronger than you know, Emma, but it has been my pleasure to help you with this. I only wish I could do more, but time, I’m afraid, is not on our side.”

Emma knew she was right, and she was beginning to feel restless to return. She could only imagine how worried everyone was. She’d been here so long and it was time to go back. She couldn’t wait to get back to her life and embrace all the people she already missed to pieces, but she also felt a loss to say goodbye to Killian’s mother who had been nothing but wonderful to her.

“And what about you?”

“Me? I finally get to move on,” Meera said thoughtfully, looking to the other end of the field where they stood. In that corner the sunlight was strong, but Emma found her vision was hazy, and she couldn’t really see what lay beyond. It was obscured, but Emma could imagine that it was beautiful and serene. “Take care of my sons, Emma, and my grandbabies, and know that wherever I go next, I’ll still always be with them, and with you.”

With one final hug, Emma bid farewell to Meera, watching as she moved into whatever beyond lay in store. It was a bittersweet moment, but Emma chose to cling to the good. After years of limbo, Killian’s mother could finally be at peace, and though she may be farther away than she was before, Emma knew Meera and her love would never really disappear. Closing her eyes Emma quietly willed herself to be taken from this place too, wishing for the chance to go home, and when she opened them again she was delighted to find that she was back safe and sound on the couch once more.

“Emma!”

The chorus of everyone’s happiness at seeing her awake was the best kind of welcoming Emma could imagine, but immediately she got up and flung herself into Killian’s arms. He hugged her back, his relief undeniably washing over them as he held her close and murmured words about how much he loved her. It was too much for Emma, and all the emotions of the past few hours bubbled over into happy tears that quietly streamed down her face.

“I missed you so much,” Emma whispered and Killian smiled before kissing her surely.

“Missed him? You’ve been asleep for like thirty seconds. I know you love him, Emma, but that’s a little much,” Ruby joked. Emma looked over at her friends shaking her head.

“You’re not serious. I was only gone that long? God, it felt like forever.”

“Aye it did,” Killian agreed and Emma looked back to him as he continued his thought. “Longest thirty seconds of my life, and one I have no intention of ever repeating.”

“No, there’s no need,” Emma agreed. “It’s over now. I’m a shifter.”

“Well, let’s see then!” Anna said excitedly. “Show us what you got!”

Emma happily agreed, and as they all moved outside she wondered if she’d feel any pressure or worry about doing this. It was still so new, but Emma felt totally in control. She also couldn’t wait to see Killian’s reaction, and as she shifted before them all she got exactly the response she was hoping for. Everyone else commented on how amazing it was or how gorgeous her wolf was, but Killian was looking at her so intently, his eyes burning her from the inside out. Emma could sense that he was ready to pounce, and the image of him shifting and them being like this together made her tummy flip, but before he could she shifted back, knowing that she had to tell them all the truth of all she’d gone through before doing anything else.

Telling the story was difficult in its way, especially at first. Emma stayed close to Killian, holding onto him as she outlined what her time in the in between had been like and who was waiting for her. Throughout her retelling, Killian was still and silent, but Emma felt all of his shock and wonder and awe. Both Liam and Killian were astounded, but Elsa was the most vocal when confronted with the unbelievable news.

“I can’t believe that was your mother, Liam. She came to me in my dream that night. I couldn’t remember the particulars before, I just knew I had to get to Boston, but now that you’ve said that…” Elsa trailed off, her eyes glazing a bit as she recalled the memory. Liam for his part was holding her so tight, and he was clearly overcome with the thought that his mother had not only been watching him, but that she’d found a way to meet his future mate. “She was so beautiful, and so kind. She told me I had to get to Neal and to Emma because only I could make things right. She said my magic was a great healer and then she hugged me. When we broke apart she said she was sorry, but that things would be the way they should be soon.”

“Do you think she was talking about Mom and Dad?” Anna asked, her eyes absolutely watering as she made no attempt to hide her emotion. Elsa nodded, and the sisters embraced even as Liam kept hold of Elsa.

“They weren’t there with us,” Emma said, hoping to offer her friends support. “Which makes me think they must have already moved on to whatever comes next. They didn’t have the same anchors here, because they knew you two had each other.”

“And you,” Elsa and Anna said at the same time as Emma smiled.

“Yes and me.”

Everyone continued to ask Emma questions about all that had happened, but eventually the hour grew late and the day drew to a close. Emma, for her part, was exhausted, but more than anything she just wanted to be alone with Killian. He’d been so quiet since she revealed the truth of how her block was lifted, and she needed to be sure he was okay. So as soon as everyone left and they were in the house once more, Emma brought him to face her, and ran her fingertips against his jaw until his deep blue eyes met hers.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Killian replied honestly as his hands snaked around her, drawing her in. “You met my mother, and it turns out she has been protecting me all this time. It’s miraculous. But…”

“But even if she was there, you didn’t always feel it. You might not have been alone but you felt that way for a long, long time.”

“Aye,” Killian agreed, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers. “Maybe that’s wrong. I should only be grateful, and God knows I love her and I am thankful for all that she’s done. I just wish we had more. I can’t forgive as easily as she can.”

“And you don’t need to,” Emma replied with conviction. “All you need to do is what’s best for you. Forgiving your father brought your mother peace, but if it doesn’t for you, then don’t push it. I told her myself I found her strength incredible. I don’t think I could ever do what she did.”

“So you don’t fault me then?”

“Never,” Emma affirmed. “I know you, Killian. I know your heart. I know who you are and what you’ve been and I love every part of you. The light and the dark. We’re all a mix of both in our own ways, and I would never judge you for how you handle the pain you’ve faced in your life. I love you for everything you are and I always will.”

“Marry me,” Killian begged and Emma’s heart skipped a beat as she took in his incredible words.

“What?” she asked, hoping she’d heard right and knowing she had as he grabbed a tiny black box from the side table and then came down on one knee in front of her.

“Emma Nolan, I love you in ways that I can’t possibly describe. You are the sunshine of my life, the hope in the darkness, the beauty in everything I see. I am who I want to be when I’m with you. You’re my mate, but you’re so much more. You, Emma, are the magic in the world. You’re the calm in the storm and the peace that I’ve been craving. No one could ever deserve you, but damn if I won’t try every day to do just that. So please love, please say you’ll be my wife so that I may be your husband for this day and every day.”

“I want to say yes, but I have to tell you something,” Emma said, and immediately she blurted it out when Killian started to worry at her reaction. “I’m pregnant.”

The growl that came from Killian as he jumped up and pulled her in for a kiss took Emma’s breath away and she couldn’t help but meet him at exactly the same level of frenzy and passion. She could feel his joy pulsating between them, and eventually when he broke away from the kiss, his hand came to rest over the space that would soon swell with their child. His eyes were filled with so much admiration, and his voice was tinged with the sounds of genuine felicity.

“I will love you, this child, and every other we may have for this life and any others there may be. I’ll never stop, and I’ll never let go. It’s us forever, Emma.”

He slipped the ring on her finger without her even vocalizing that she would marry him, but for good measure she said what they both already knew aloud. Of course she would marry him, for marrying him was part of the big beautiful dream that was her life. And all she asked was that the wedding happen soon, so that she and her mate could have a chance to enjoy being newly weds before the impending joy of their new child graced their lives with even more beauty and joy and hope.  

Post-Note: So there we have it. I know it’s kind of wild for me to have included Killian’s mother in this story in such a tangible way, and I won’t get into the details of whether she was a ghost or an angel or what, but I will say I have had this as part of my story idea from the moment I was first drafting a concept for this story. The magic Elsa uses which defies explanation had to be bigger than something from this world, and I loved the thought that though she was gone, Killian’s mother never abandoned him or Liam. I also tried to time this moment with some really good news, namely the baby on the way and an official engagement. Emma and Killian are definitively moving towards happily ever after, and now they have it all. If you can believe it though, there is still definitely more to come and I am so looking forward to what the next few chapters bring. Thanks again so much for reading and hope you all have a great rest of your day!

[julibf]

WHY THE END OF GAME OF THRONES IS NOT WORKING FOR ME...

I told in some of my past metas that I wrote after the show was done, why the ending was so unsatisfying and I am going to try to explain why here in some point. I have to say, the fact it was so sad and heartbreaking is not really the reason. The Mists of Avalon was my go to novels in my teen years, its VERY sad and heartbreaking, yet it felt right by the end. It made sense.

This is not how I am feeling by the end of GAME OF THORNES and I am afraid to say, Its George RRM who is letting me down, not Benioff and Weiss. So lets start with the points that are making my head spin.

BRAN THE BROKEN KING

If accept Bran Stark as the final King of this story, I have to pretend I didnt read the past books A CLASH IF KINGS and a FEAST FOR CROWS, where we had very good contenders fighting for the Throne (Rob Stark, Renly Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon, Joffrey Baratheon, etc) Yes, some of tyhose men were not so good from a moral point of view, but they brought strength, militar support, militar and political alliances, legitime claims to the Throne...

I could go on and on and on. There is absolutely no reason for why would Yara Greyjoy would bend the knee to Brandon Stark and accept him as her leader and ruler; or the Prince of Dorne, or the Lords from the Westerlands. This choice is absolutely absurd and if you read the books you would know that picking a boy king, with no claim to the Throne or no powerful armies makes any sense at all. Not to mention, I really dislike the idea that humans are incapable to control their own emotions, and because of that we must pick a God like creature with no emotions. 

Whe we add the fact Bran had hardly any experience ruling or leading people during the 7 years of this story, this pick gets evern mroe and mroe bizarre. I understand George wanted a surprising ending and he wanted to go against the expectations, but this choice is an utopia. I cant get behind this choice. I am sorry.

TYRION HAND OF THE KING

Again, do I have to pretend I didnt read the books and actually know that being a Kingslayer is a very terrible sin to carry on Westeros??? Tyrion is not a beloved figure in this story, even before he killed his own father, Tywin Lannister. 

Tyrion decision to kill his father, not only started the downfall of House Lannister, it also made the entire region of the Westerlands political weaker and more vunerable to future attacks.He must be a very despised figure in the entire realm. Yet, he will be the secind person in charge of Westeros?? 

At this point I am at loss of words. I have no idea what George is planning with this.

JON KILLING DAENERYS AS A LOVER IS A TERRIBLE IDEA.

Awful, terrible, horrible idea. Any way you slice, this was a terrible idea to end such amazing novel. Its corny, outdated and down right dangerous, considering we live in a world where females are at risk of being murdered by their male partners all the time. 

This is such underwhelming decision, in a sea of underwelming decisions that I am starting to think George was simply trying to make us all hate this ending. 

We could have the realm raising in Rebelion against the Queen of Ashes; we could have second Dance of Dragons; We could have Arya using her underused super powers as a Faceless men to kill Daenerys.  No, we will have Jon Snow, still making excuses for Daenerys terrible behavior, begging her to start acting better???? telling her she will always be his queen while putitng a dagger into her heart!!! 

Agian, this ending is coming from George himself. I cant really blame the D’s for this mess. 

JON SNOW AND DAENERYS TARGARYEN ROMANCE WAS ANOTHER TERRIBLE IDEA. 

Awful, terrible, horrible idea. Any way you slice, this was a terrible idea to end such amazing novel. If you dont believe Political Jon theory, than Jon Snow is just a completely fool, who fell in love with a tyrant, closed his eyes to all her terrible behavior and in the end was forced to kill the love of his life to save humanity. He is a idiot. and it breaks my heart this is how Jon will be remembered by audiences.  Some people keep on telling me. “Oh, by, I dont think this is how George will write him, I think its going to be much better” But I have to say, I dont think it will. 

I do believe Jon was playing Dany in the beggining of their romance and was manipulating her in order to use her dragons and armies to save the North, but I also believe that once he finds out she is his family too, he started to became divided between his Targ and Stark familes. He is a family man in the end of the day and he must feel some sort of guilty for his actions towards D@ny. 

I think that George will keep Political Jon hidden between the lines, just like the show did. He may write much betetr and be more obvious, but I dont think it will ever be revealed explicit to the audience. 

Here is what I think George is trying to do with Jon. In one side we have Jon Snow trying his best to save the North and his family and doing wherever its takes to protect them, and doing not some nice things, like manipulating a woman and seducing her in order to save his realm; We also have the Rheagar son, who is in love with Sansa and who had prmoised to protect her no matter waht. 

In the other side we have the Ned Stark son, who wants to keep his vows to D@ny and wants to fulfil his promise to her; wants to do his duty; We also have the family man, who is trying to see the best in this horrible tryant and fighting the idea of becoming a kinslayer. Ned Stark would be horrified to have to kill another Stark.

Thats why I believe Jon was so conflicted about killing D@ny in the end. But in the end, its just too much. Too fucking much. No, I dont want Jon Snow, after so many years, after so much pain and disaster to still be wondering if he must kill a tyrant to save his God damn family and people. FFS, I wanted Jon to kill D@ny like Jaime killed Aerys, with conviction that he was doing the right thing. 

I wished Jon and Dany had been just allies and later becamed enemies. This would be a much better ending for both characters.

HIDDING THE POV’s AND THE CHARACTERS REAL MOTIVATIONS

You know this will happen in the books too and I am already dreading. Basically, does Jon believes D@ny is a terrible ruler and its scared of her?? oh well, I will keep this behind the lines, so that the readers dont catch up that she is the monster of the story; Does Jon has feeling for Sansa, her cousing sister? oh well, I will keep this very hidden and boscure and will make the Jon and D@ny romance seems its the love story of the novels;Does Sansa has real feelings for Jon and its desperately trying to keep him as KITN?? of well, I will also keep Sansa’s feelings and desires hidden and in contrast, I will make her animosity towards D@ny very appparent and imply its because Sansa wants to be a queen herself.

There is no reason Jon Snow would fall for someone as entitled and arrogant as D@enerys, none. George is making a disservice to his hero by pretending he is madly in love with this spoiled brat. This storyline is awful, even if Jon is pretending he is in love with D@ny. 

The only reason he is writting this crap is to hide from the audience how very terrible D@ny is, he is manipulating the reader. If Jon Snow never complains about Daenerys cruel decision to forbid him to ever tell anyone about his real name, than the reader will also never question Daenerys terrible decision. Her terrible behavior is almost forgotten. 

If Sansa doesnt follow Jon’s pleas and tells Tyrion about Jon’s identidy, but keeps to herself the real reason she wants Jon free from D@enerys, than the audience will be mad at Sansa, for 

Second of, I am tired of the show playing with this Dark Sansa character and now I believe this is how the books will do it too. They will hide Sansa’s real motivations (like love for Jon and her family) and make more salient for the reader the false motives, like her hunger for power.

If you ask a tv  viewer, Sansa got everything she wanted, because her feelings for Jon were almost hidden to the audience, but her desire for an independent North were made very salient. Why not write a line where she says she doesnt want to be queen, that she wants Jon Snow safe and protect in Winterfell and that she wants him to continue as KITN? Well, because they want this storyline to be implicit and this is just too frustratin for me.

AS YOU SEE....

By the end of the day, I am disspaointed in George, not really the TV show, which is even more sadder. I think he wrote a very beautiful story, but his ending is taking away all my joy for those characters and this novel. I know he wanted avoid the expected and subvert the expecations, but he is shooting his own story in their foot. And its braking my heart. 

What terrible way to end such fascinating tale...