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beautifulchris · 10 months

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mischief managed

pairing: han jisung x gn!reader

wc: 3,2k

featuring: lee minho, kim seungmin, sf9’s chani, nct’s jaemin

summary: jisung tries to break every single rule with you

genres: hogwarts!au, partners-in-crime!au, ravenclaw!jisung, slytherin!reader, fluff, comedy

warnings: swearing

notes: I wanna apologize to jaemin for doing him so dirty, my baby doesn’t deserve this sdjkfqlk feedback is always appreciated! moodboard made by me, pictures found on the internet. reposting works from my old blog

order of writing: chan - jisung - minho - hyunjin - jeongin - seungmin - changbin - felix

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @straykidsland

tag list: @badwithten @raethethey send ask/dm/comment to be added!

On the King’s Cross train station on your very first day, you almost missed the train because your dad absolutely wanted to take the best pic of his precious kid going to the mythic Hogwarts school. So you ended up in an almost empty compartment. The other compartments around were full and there was just this boy alone.

“Hey, can I sit here?” You probably startled him because he looked up at you with wild eyes but instantly smiled at your sight.

“Yeah, sure.”

“What are you doing all alone?” you asked as you sat in front of him.

He shrugged. “Looking at my chocolate frog cards collection.”

“Wow, nice. Can I see?”

He handed them to you, “Yes, of course. I’m Jisung by the way.”

“I’m Y/N.”

Since that day, you were inseparable and soon became partners-in-crime. Being put in different houses didn’t stop you.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

After learning Alohomora in charms class, you wandered in the castle to find a forbidden office to open and what better one than the caretaker’s where a whole lot of interesting things were stored?

There, you found a few dungbombs that Jisung instantly took, confiscated brooms and chains. A lot of perfectly polished chains hung on the walls.

“I understand why he doesn’t stay here often,” you snorted and returned to your inspection. In a dusty cabinet named ‘Confiscated and Highly Dangerous’, you found an old piece of blank parchment. It was mysteriously well conserved taking into account where it was so you put it in your pocket. Further inspection will be done to know how a simple parchment could be ‘highly dangerous’.

“I’m kinda disappointed. Sure we’ll use the dungbombs wisely but I thought there were more interesting treasures.”

“Don’t be so down yet Ji, I found a mystery to resolve. Let’s go before we get caught.”

Fortunately, you didn’t get caught. You both went to your common room, being a quiet place with almost no students at this hour. You showed Jisung the parchment and counted on his intelligence and logic to figure out how it worked. After a few minutes, he looked up at you and smirked.

“I feel like it’s in good hands now.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, he put his wand out of his pocket and pointed it to the parchment.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he simply said. You were going to question him when the parchment caught your eye. Ink was spreading on the paper and soon you could read:

“Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present…”

“The Marauder’s Map,” Jisung whispered with stars in his eyes.

“What is this? Open it!”

Jisung did as told and both of you were dumbfounded by what you discovered. A map of the whole school, including the secret passages that are hidden within its walls and the location of every person in the grounds, portrayed by a dot. This map, a true masterpiece, within your hands was a disaster for everyone else.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿ฺ

Three years later, you knew everything you could possibly have learned about the school. Neither Ravenclaw or Slytherin could win the house cup as long as you both were in Hogwarts. No matter the amount of effort Seungmin, Changbin and Minho would make to earn points, they could never make up for your wickedness. You did earn points sometimes in classes when you answered correctly to a teacher’s question and you weren’t the only one to lose points either so you didn’t feel so bad. You did lose more points than you earned but shhh. Let's not talk about that.

One day, on your way to the lake after lunch, Gryffindor Jaemin called your name so you stopped in your tracks and waited for him to join you.

“Hey, Y/N, I was wondering if you would like to study with me after class? For transfiguration.”

Uh. Jaemin has never been your friend and the most he ever said to you before now was “Get out of my way, filthy Slytherin.” the second day of your first year. Therefore you were startled, to say the least. Plus you wanted to study with Jisung, not some acquaintance you never talked to and weren’t interested in.

“Not really, I already have plans for tonight. Thank you for the offer though.”

You tried to sound as nice as you could but without much convection and left before he could reply. A few meters away, Jisung saw the whole scene and wondered what you had told him because he looked displeased. He joined you and you smiled at him before intertwining fingers.

The next day, Jisung and you were sunbathing with a nice autumn breeze on a bench in the courtyard when someone came in front of you, preventing the sun from warming your face. You opened your eyes and were met with Jaemin and a few of his friends.

“Can you move please?” you politely demanded, since you didn’t want to start anything.

“Are you dating him?” he asked, pointing at your best friend.

“No?”

“Then why did you reject my date proposal?”

Oh my god. Really? You were going to put him in place but Jisung’s mocking laugh stopped you.

“Really dude? You want to do this here?”

“I don’t think you’re in the conversation.” Jaemin’s glare didn’t please you.

“Should’ve asked to talk to Y/N in person then instead of creating unnecessary drama.”

Jaemin looked like he was going to throw hands so you spoke before it went too far.

“Guys, let’s stay civil here. I rejected you cause I’m not interested in you, there's no other motive. Now can you let us be?” His friends laughed at him and you could swear you heard one of them say something about a bet.

“Wait, asking Y/N out on a date was a bet?”

“And what about it?” Jaemin said cockily. Jisung was fuming and you were disgusted by the boy.

“Can’t you respect people? No one deserves to be a bet’s victim. You guys suck.”

He scoffed. “I’m sure you’re the type of guy who hides when it comes to fight.”

“Try me.” You knew by his glare that he wasn’t playing anymore. Jaemin was smirking but not for long.

“Let’s duel.”

Jisung was so fast to put his wand out, it surprised Jaemin. You tried to stop them but it was useless because their pride was at stake.

Before you could blink, Jaemin ended up mouthless and you heard a woman screaming but you didn’t listen, being amazed by the spell’s effect. Jisung took your hand and ran through the corridors, hearing the professor yelling she would remove twenty points from his house.

You managed to catch your breath while Jisung was answering an easy riddle —for him— to enter the Ravenclaw common room.

“I can’t believe you really did it.”

“He challenged me! You know I can’t say no to that,” Jisung sighed.

“I know. That was brilliant, by the way.” You sat on one of the comfortable chairs like you lived there —it wasn’t totally false— and you were followed by your partner-in-crime.

“Thanks! I practiced this one a lot, I couldn’t wait to use it for real.”

“I hope you didn’t do anything foolish,” said a voice behind you.

“Oh, Seungmin! I didn’t see you there.” Jisung turned around and smiled. Seungmin was reading a book in a blue armchair. He closed it and gave his attention to his friends. “I hope you’re not hoping too hard.”

“How much?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s innocent act didn’t work since the second time he used it but he was still trying three years later.

“Twenty,” you answered. Seungmin gave Jisung a look and he shrugged.

“It was fun and I don’t regret it.” He folded his arms and pouted like a grounded kid.

“Of course you don’t,” Seungmin loudly exhaled.

“You’ll make it up for it, won’t you?”

Seungmin sighed deeply. He felt like he had to work twice as hard to win back the points Jisung made their house lose but it was never enough. “I always do, but don’t you think you should calm down a bit?”

“Absolutely not. There’s still a lot of rules Y/N and I haven't broken yet, so many adventures and exciting moments to live.” Jisung smiled widely at you while Seungmin implored you with his eyes to stop him. Your gaze went from one to another without really knowing what to say and before you could, someone sat next to Jisung and typed on the table.

“What mischief are you going to commit today pals?” It was Chani, one of the chasers of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and a fellow 4th year.

“Hey Chani! Already done, Jaemin asked for a duel and I used Oscausi on him.”

“Oh I don’t know th-” Chani started.

“OSCAUSI? Jisung, are you crazy?” Seungmin got up so fast he startled everyone, including others around him.

“Don’t worry, he got his mouth back,” Jisung waved his hand with indifference, Jaemin deserved it after all. “Eventually.”

“You’re going to be the death of me, really.” Jisung and Chani just laughed at that and Jaemin unofficially became your target for a lot of future mischief.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

“I haven’t lost any points in days, maybe I should start to pay attention in arithmancy class.”

It was this time of the year where the air was so cold you just stayed in your or Jisung’s common room and studied to prevent boredom.

Jisung pulled his robe hood over his head and gently slapped you in the back of the head. “Transfigure this quill into a rat and put it onto Jaemin’s head.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s a funnier idea.”

You lost ten points for it but you found it so fun you were back on track until the next cold day.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

You always loved the Ravenclaw common room. You didn’t dislike the Slytherin one, but it was cold and unfriendly when you weren’t a Slytherin yourself. Plus you loved warm places. What you liked the most about the Ravenclaw common room was the domed ceiling painted with stars. You could literally watch it for hours until having to go to your own dorm to sleep. If you weren’t friends with Jisung, you probably would never have been able to lose yourself in the stars because you weren’t that close with Seungmin or Chani and you didn’t really know any other Ravenclaws.

You were currently lying down on one of the couches, your head on Jisung’s lap, helping each other revise (yes, it happens!) for the history of magic test about the goblin rebellions you would have the next day, more concentrated on the stars than the subject. It was calming and it helped you stress less about the tests.

“Where’s Muffin?” you asked out of nowhere.

It made Jisung flinch but when didn't he? Just like she knew her name, she appeared next to you, purring loudly. You put her on your belly and patted her head lovingly.

“Don’t forget she’s my cat,” whined Jisung as he closed his book and put it on the coffee table next to the couch.

You smirked. “Don’t be jealous cause she loves me more.”

The elegant Siberian cat got up and rubbed herself against your best friend’s chest, waving her tail on your face.

“You were saying?”

You rolled your eyes and opened your transfiguration book which was on the floor. It was going to be a long night and you’ll probably have to go back to your dorm after curfew. Bless the marauder’s map in those moments.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

The Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin was coming up and Jisung had to practice more than usual as the seeker. He was going to play against Changbin after all. They both were really good so you wondered who would win the match. Gryffindor had won the first match against Slytherin and Ravenclaw won the one against Hufflepuff thanks to Jisung’s agility and speed.

You always followed Jisung at his training, it was the only moments he wasn’t trying to break the rules. He was pretty serious about Quidditch actually, even if after each training since your 3rd year, you went to drink a mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with Chani. It was like tradition.

The day of the match, you cheered on your team and your friends, so basically both teams. The competitive mindset of the two seekers could be felt from afar, everybody knew the match was going to be intense. At the end, the score was 350-200 for Slytherin, because Yugyeom, one of the Slytherin beaters, sent a bludger on Jisung’s broom, causing him to spin around and allowing Changbin to catch the golden snitch. It was a good game and Jisung didn’t fall so it was a double win.

Of course you would say that cause you're a Slytherin.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Ravenclaws shared the defence against the dark arts class with Slytherins so, naturally, Jisung and you were seated together.

“Hello everyone! Today’s lesson is about acromentulas.” As the professor proceeded with his lecture, you felt your strong partner-in-crime shiver in his seat. You looked at him and were surprised by how much he looked terrified of acromentulas, not that you could blame him, these giant spiders were scary as hell.

“You okay there, bro?” He didn’t answer and was so pale you thought he was going to faint. You tried to comfort him but he was frozen.

The professor, not giving a care about what was happening in front of his face, decided to show some photos of acromentulas and as if it didn’t trigger Jisung enough, he eventually showed a real one in a big cage. From what you’ve seen in your books, it was nearly a teen so it wasn’t that big compared to his adult size but it was still big enough to scare the hell out of Jisung. He literally fell off his chair and the sound made the professor pay attention.

“Jisung? What happened?”

“He’s really scared of acromentulas, sir. Can you please put it away?”

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

While the professor finally put it away, you helped Jisung sit back.

“You okay?”

“Not really. That shit’s so grim.”

“I know, take deep breaths. It’s gone, everything’s alright.”

His breathing was unsteady for a few moments but he quickly got his composure back.

“I’m sorry Jisung, didn’t mean to frighten you. Class’ dismissed. Except you, Jisung.”

Everyone left except Seungmin, who checked on his friend, Jisung and you.

The professor went to his office and came back with chocolate.

“Here, eat this, you’ll feel better. I didn’t know it was this horrifying for you.”

He accepted the chocolate and ate it slowly. “It’s okay, you couldn’t know. Arachnophobia isn’t cool.”

“I won’t show any spider in this class from now on, I promise.”

“Thank you sir.”

“You can go now, drink water and rest.”

As you left class, Jisung whispered in your ear. “I don’t need water, I need a good butterbeer.”

You both chuckled and, after saying bye to Seungmin who certainly left to go to the library to do his homework, went to the Three Broomsticks using the secret passage beneath the one-eyed statue by the stairs of your last class to drink one or two mugs of butterbeer.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

Two months before the end of the year, Jisung had the baddest yet boldest idea so far. It was remarkable how he never failed to impress you.

“I’m going to use this potion on Jaemin, he’ll definitely leave you alone after that.”

“He left me alone after I put a rat onto his head but suit yourself, bro.”

You were hiding behind stairs on the third floor, waiting for Jaemin to walk down. Jisung was holding his flask tight in his hand. When you heard people talking, you discreetly looked up and saw Jaemin. Jisung didn’t hesitate and before you could react, his flask was emptied on Jaemin’s head. His hair slowly stood on end but it wasn’t all, it also turned into candy apple red. He somehow added Colovaria to the hair-rising potion and you were about to congratulate him when you got a glimpse of Minho upstairs.

Jaemin left, horrified, to the nearest bathroom to see the damage while Minho was casually walking down the stairs. Jisung lost his smile when he saw him and swallowed hard. Once arrived at your height, he opened his mouth.

“Rules are put in place to prevent hundreds of magically gifted hormonal hazards from accidentally turning themselves into sharks or losing an eye, or provoking the wrath of a giant spider, or blowing themselves up, or whatever. But here you are, trying to break every single one of them.” You almost felt relieved he didn’t scream at you.

“Look, I’m stupid, okay? And stupid people do stupid things. That’s a fact.”

You could have laughed at his excuse if Minho wasn’t staring at both of you like he was about to end you. He wasn’t generally scary but he was a prefect so when you did something wrong… well, let’s say you better not be seen by him.

“Do you use this lame excuse every time you do shit?”

“My other excuse is that it was Y/N’s idea but no one buys it.”

You looked at him in disbelief. Of course no one bought it, you were more like his sidekick than the mastermind.

“Not surprising. Anyway, fifteen points from Ravenclaw. I would have taken twenty but adding a transfiguration spell to a potion was really clever.”

He asked Jisung for a favor, talking privately in the nearest classroom for a few minutes. Then Minho left and Jisung came back to you with a big smile and you high-fived him. The Marauders Map usually prevented incidents like this and he wasn’t near this place when you last checked the Map. Minho literally came out of nowhere.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ✿

On a fine and warm day, as Jisung and you successfully pranked Jaemin for the umpteenth time that year, he turned to you still laughing.

“You know what’s the strength of a duet? It’s to be two.”

“Thank you for your encouraging words. I now know you need me,” you winked.

The laughter slowly died down and the atmosphere became somehow serious. He sat on a bench and you joined him.

“Are you kidding? I’ll always need you.”

“Always? Sounds like a really long time,” you chuckled, more to tease him and put aside the fact that you need him just as much.

“Just wishing we’ll stay together forever,” he blurted out, his eyes concentrating on his shoes.

“You’re sweet. I would love that too.”

He lifted his head and looked you in the eye.

“Really? No need for the Imperius Curse then?” You blinked a few times, about to smack him when he smiled wildly. “Just kidding, I would never.”

“Anyway, go train for the match against Gryffindor, wouldn’t want Mark to catch the snitch before you, would you?”

“Won’t happen.”

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please let me know <3 and here's the masterlist!

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cassie-thorne · 2 years

Note

I was inspired by GQ's Five Things <Name> Can't Live Without, so my question is:

What are the five things that your MC can't live without? Can be a book, food, literally anything!

(yes i know Max, you currently aren't writing fics, but it'd be totes awesome if you could introduce your MCs! Especially your FA and TPS ones <33)

'sup, Mads! Thanks for sending this. You just saved me from boredom💀Yup, I don't write things, but this sounds fun!

I named my FA MC F!Hispanic Clerina Azareth (don't know where I got the name, just thought of it lol) but let's call her Rina. Ohhh I was obsessed with her last year, and she's still one of my favorites! let's see..

Rina can't live without the Internet. Bet she has these secret social media accounts where only her and her trusted friends know. I mean, she's trying to be a perfect daughter and everything, but give her a break, y'know. She's this political college student who just wanted to be a normal adolescent.

Chocolate frog cakes, She love it since she was six as mentioned in Chapter 8 (??). So on her every birthday, that should be her cake😌.

She can't live without freedom. I pictured Rina as a good daughter who always follows her mother's steps, but at the same time she has her own rebellious ways because Rina doesn't really want to be like her at all. She's kinda like Blaine lol.

Her Lynx named Luxian. JUST love Luxian.

Blaine Hayes (not a thing, but she can't live without his scent!). She enjoys debating with him about literally everything (being their country's rival, of course these kids enjoy showing off); she looooveee his company; loveee his annoying-ness; lovee his hoodie; HIS HAIR; she lovees him. Blaine showed her how to just screw everything and live her life the way she wanted to because he saw what Rina's mom was doing to her.

Plus her iconic hairstyle kajsjdjajdjdjka

I don't have much for my twiney Princesses but i can try!

Their names are the default ones because I love the idea of it. They're both named after flowers; the Princess, Hispanic Rose Julivert, and the student, Hispanic Daisy Hawthorne. (<- Pb def got a "Thorne" obsession lately but we all know who's the best one😏) anyways, let's start with our Daisy first.

Daisy loves books. She can't live without them. Especially history books. She's a book nerd!!

She can't live without her chaotic sisters, the Deltas! Yes, she did leave for a while, but she loves them.

For Rose:

She lovee parties. She would do anything just to get out of the damn palace and go to random clubs. So yeah, Rose is crazier than Daisy and she can't live without parties.

She can't live without Aveline and her guidance. She's the best lady-in-waiting and her best friend. Seriously, without Aveline, they'll be doomed. We love Aveline!

The princess can't live without proper outfits for different occasions. No, no, that's a crime, so she has anything for everything!

Since we're both a CoP die hard fan, I'll add our badass MC right here✋

Name's the default one, F!Asian Detective Cameron Rose

This detective can't live without her badass coats, suits and jackets. That's literally one of the most important things Cameron wore; that's her style! It's not that she hates dresses, sometimes she's just embarrassed to wear them, even if everyone says she looks good. But she secretly likes wearing them in missions if she needs to. She feels like she's in a spy movie or something. But we can all agree that her casual detective outfit is more comfortable in fight scenes.

This detective cannot live without her taser. She loves tasing bad guys. Yup, she loves doing it. And again, that meet-cute🤭🤭🤭

The Detective can't live without her iconic boots. She might not have a shoe closet like the Prince, but she does have rocking kicks for real.

This detective cannot live without her Prince Charming and the badass Ginovesi team! They're literally everything to her <3

Detective Cameron Rose cannot live without caffeine. Period.

Thanks for sending this again!

#Inlocusmads #playchoices #choices stories you play #Playchoices mc #foreign affairs #the princess swap #crimes of passion #Max-what-now

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c-c-cherry · 3 years

Text

Jojos Doing Jojo Things (with each other)✨😌

*sweating as the part 5 hc asks start piling up in my inbox*

*looks at the one that mentions Jonathan*

Hello~~ I’m sorry for being criminally inactive here, I forgot during that long 6 month lockdown that I actually had a real life outside of the internet and now I have to go do real life things?? Instead of doing nothing but writing?? Crimes, I tell you.

I love the idea of Jonathan interacting with all the other jojos so I thought I’d take a little break from part 5 whump headcanons to fulfill this one :D SO HERE’S SOME SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANONS ABOUT JONATHAN DOING FUN LITTLE ACTIVITIES WITH THE OTHER JOJOS BECAUSE I KNOW WE ALL NEED IT RIGHT NOW😭😭😭

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Joseph (lets say Youngseph in this case because shhh)

-Hear me out but KNITTING

-Let this man do some nice calm things please

-Joseph has absolutely no way to connect with Jonathan. Like. Nothing.

-He doesn’t see the two of them as anything alike even though they both have the star, and when it comes to connecting with such a righteous, nice dude he’s a bit :/ about it

-He also doesn’t want to do anything stupid (In his words.) He hates baking, he’s never been into reading and school, and the two can never really click with sports

-Our man Jonathan has searched his heart and soul for something to bring the two of them together but Joseph is always just not into it >:(

-He’s almost given up on connecting at all BUT—

-One thing they do have in common? Erina.

-BOOM. Johnny-boy suddenly has ideas >:)

-Joseph is really put off when Jonathan shows up with a ball of yarn and needles and in the most innocent way possible he’s like “I have something to show you ^-^”

-the first thing Joseph thinks is NO FUCKING WAY. If Caesar or his mother or anyone caught him fucking knitting he’d never be able to live it down

-So instead he just watches as Jonathan sits by the fire, and it looks really boring at first but he just starts going at it

-And of course the gears start turning and all his brain sees is “fast task?? task I can be good at? something quick my hands can do??”

-And Jonathan looks up to take a break to see Joseph perched on the edge of the chair in complete awe, but the moment he asks if he wants to know how to do it, Joseph gets really withdrawn :/

The rest of their conversation goes a little like this:

“Isn’t that meant for girls?”

“Why would hats and scarves be only for girls?”

“But its—”

“You know...I’m making Erina a matching hat and scarf for her birthday. I could use a little help with the scarf…”

“...”

“We can make it a race.”

And with a fire lighting in his eyes, Joseph accepts the contest even though he has no idea what he’s doing. But isn’t that what he does best?

-Needless to say, he becomes obsessed.

-When his greatest fear comes true and Caesar finds out, he’s too obsessed to care about the teasing

-Joseph is good at something that Caesar isn’t. Caesar is jealous. Caesar picks up knitting.

-Are knitting contests even a thing?? I don’t care because Joseph and Caesar could probably open a fucking etsy shop with all the stuff they make (and absolutely shamelessly at that)

-Anytime they meet someone new it's immediately “which hat is better?” “Joseph’s is worse, right?” “Can you start the stopwatch for us?”

-Even in his older years, he never actually stopped making things for Holy, Suzi, and even sometimes Jotaro (thought Joot wouldn’t be caught dead wearing any of it in public)

-He actually progresses past knitting and making clothes in general becomes a secret passion of his

-The hat he’s wearing in part 4? He definitely made that. And don’t even think he doesn’t send Josuke the tackiest shit in the mail

Jonathan is very proud :)

Jotaro

-Animals. Is that even a question?

-Jonathan was always more of a dog or cat person, but the moment he finds out that Jotaro’s interested in marine life? MAN GOES ALL OUT

-He not only researches the shit out of marine biology just so he can hold up a conversation with him, but he also buys A SHIT TON OF BOOKS for his favourite angst man

-We all know that Jotaro isn’t exactly a man of words, but his heart is touched when they exchange a few sentences and Jonathan shows up the next day with a book all about what they were talking about🥺

-Like—Jonathan was always scolded for never listening to his father, but when it comes to stuff like this, Jotaro swears he’s able to read his mind

-Most people can barely get him to utter a sentence, but when these two are alone they’ll talk for hours about the ocean

-Holy was actually pretty worried for a while that Jotaro rarely ever opened up to anyone, but after seeing the two of them talk it was like a weight lifted off her shoulders :)

-They go on trips all the time to study water life. First, it's just to the river a few minutes away. Then they start going out to the lake nearby, and then they’re suddenly borrowing Joseph’s private boat and going on all these “research trips” together

-Which just consist of Jotaro taking hundreds of pictures and surprisingly never shutting up about what he sees (which is definitely a first)

-They pass by snooty, rich fishermen all the time who make fun of them for only looking at the animals, and Jonathan secretly uses Hamon to attract the fish to anywhere but where the fishers are lol

-I can blame snipster on instagram for introducing me to Smiletaro but the pure happiness and smiles of happy Joot on this boat with Jonathan is like a DRUG

-Star Platinum is absolutely thrilled, and when Jonathan realizes that Star is an amazing artist, he actually buys the stand a cute little purple notebook to draw all the ocean life they come across :3

-The moment they get back to shore Jotaro’s all -_- again around people, but you can still see the excitement in his eyes if you look hard enough

-When he gets into school for marine biology, Jonathan is so fucking proud

-This is an au which means anything can happen so I formally declare that Jonathan definitely got Jotaro those golden dolphin-shaped coat pins when the man first goes off to Uni

-He wears them as a good luck charm :3

Josuke

-Josuke is soooo easy to get along with, especially since both of them are such warm people :)

-Jonathan figures that it wouldn’t be hard to find something fun to do together, but when he actually thinks about it...he really knows nothing about what Josuke likes to do

-He ends up just asking the kid next time they see each other, and they end up just agreeing to teach each other one thing the other doesn’t know

-Because the power of KNOWLEDGE BABYYY

-Josuke shows up the next day with an entire fucking Nintendo 64 and is absolutely set on teaching him how to play something

-Erina just kinda watches like 👁👄👁 as Josuke plugs it in and Jonathan is confused but also SUPER EXCITED because he barely even knows what a video is but there are also video games??

-After much internal debate, Josuke decides on Ocarina of Time because he’s worried Jonathan will have a fucking heart attack if they play something like Mario Kart

-Also he thinks Jojo would enjoy the whole “righteous hero coming of age” archetype thing because,,,you know,,,

-They start it up and immediately Jonathan is like WHAT and has no idea how to play and dies in ways that Josuke didn’t even know were possible, but they somehow make it to the first temple with a lot of help from Josuke

-Right before the boss fight, his mom pulls up like “bitch we gotta go come on” so Josuke sees no harm in leaving the system at Jonathan’s and coming back next week

-Oho,,,ohohooo,,,

-He comes back a week later to a dark house,,,Erina’s off on some trip, and he can hear the faintest “HYAH!” coming from the living room

-He walks in to find Jonathan in the exact same spot he left him, ALL OTHER SAVE FILES ARE COMPLETE, and he’s in some obscure location doing a side quest Josuke didn’t even know existed

-Turns out he’s really good at quest games

-After Josuke realizes that Jonathan’s managed to beat the game more than once, he asks if he wants to try out another game

-To which Jonathan replies: “There’s MORE?”

-Aside from giving Jonathan a crippling video game addiction, Josuke also learns a vital thing about Jonathan Joestar

-Hamon ^-^

-Josuke’s a little surprised that Jonathan can even see his stand, and Jonathan has no other way to explain it than that it must be connected to his Hamon somehow

-To which Josuke is like “what” and Jonathan realizes that his stupid fucking grandson decided not to tell ANY OTHER Joestar about Hamon

-He’s no Zeppeli, but he could try and teach him...even if it didn’t work, it would still be a nice bonding activity

-When Jonathan finds out that Josuke’s stand ability is revolved around healing, he’s overjoyed because he might have a better chance

-They start small with breathing exercises and meditation, which eventually lead to Jonathan trying to teach Josuke how to make things like flowers

-Since it doesn’t exactly come naturally to Josuke, things don’t exactly work out,,,but both are unsurprisingly happy when Josuke manages to make a single flower bloom :3

-It’s not much, but it’s there and it honestly makes Josuke feel much better knowing that he could eventually learn how to heal himself, too :)

Giorno

-Jonathan considered teaching Giorno Hamon a while ago, but he realized that his stand already has the properties of Hamon, if not just in a more humanoid form

-And when Jojo puts two and two together that he and his son can both grow a lot of plant life, he has the perfect idea

-Garden buddies!!!! :D

-They grow everything you could possibly think of, and to top it all off, Giorno fills the garden with all this animal life :)

-When it comes to biology, Giorno never shuts up about it. He’s the quietest kid when it comes to virtually anything else but prepare for MAJOR info dumps about frogs and his vast knowledge of flowers

-Speaking of flowers, them just sitting and growing them together and talking about all of their favourites? Yes please

-Although they love to accelerate plant growth, there’s one patch in the middle of the garden that they’re determined to grow naturally

-Also them growing and eating carambola (star fruit) together because it’s my pocket dimension that makes no sense and I get to decide what fun fruits the Joestars get to eat together

-the garden becomes a great place for picnics and outings and the best place to go when things get too chaotic

-Giorno starts a plant journal where he records everything that ends up growing there, and Jonathan starts impulse buying all these flower guide books so they can look at pictures of them and put their favourites in the garden :3

-They end up creating a little pond in the middle of everything, and Giorno puts a whole bunch of frogs and fish in it and it's all very tranquil and calm and nice :))

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I was gonna do part 6 (maybe part 7 too?) but mental energy? I don’t know her, sorry y’all :(

Feel free to add on though!! I wanna see what y’all would think Jonathan would wanna do with Jolyne or anyone else I missed :D My first thought for Jolyne was Rugby because Jonathan was a rugby KING and I feel like she’d be really good at it lmao

#jjba #jjba headcanons #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #giorno giovanna #jojos's bizarre adventure #ask-c-c-cherry #headcanons #anime #erina joestar #family feels #long post

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sanshineaus · 4 years

Text

six or so

JUNG YOONOH/JAEYHUN X READER

warnings: none

type: drabble, fluff

word count: 2694

a/n: yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh tattoo for new comeback yoonoh ta-

”Oh my God, Yoonoh,“ your hands instinctively come to cover your mouth, your lips already curling into a grin that makes your eyes turn into crescents.

“Yeah?” the man in question raises his head from his phone, and you can’t help but let out an incredulous chuckle. Now that his neck is in view, the tattoo adorning it truly makes you huff with joy.

The other commuters at the bus station certainly aren’t fans of your ardour.

The ink is anything but delicate, and tracing it with your eyes, you realize how big it really is. Running from his collarbone and all the way up to his ear, the face seems hostile; and although you can’t make out exactly what it is, the fangs are simply perfectly done, and the rough shading only adds onto the charm of it.

Your hands slowly find their way back down to your sides, and your grin seems to widen as you let out yet another peep of pure joy, “It looks so good on you!”

Yoonoh’s smile in return is quite bashful, and he hangs his head down once again with a small wince—the flesh must still be a bit tender, after all he had only disappeared for six or so days and judging by the size of the tattoo it can’t have healed evenly everywhere.

Your best friend finally lifts his beautiful head again, and you feel yourself flutter when you catch his grinning gaze, his teeth on full display as he moved to greet you at last. A quick hug, though he makes sure to sway you both to the left, and you can’t help the laugh which bubbles up to your lips once again.

Yoonoh just seems to elicit joy from you, every single one of his appearances prompting you to smile and brightening your day. It’s not that he offers himself to do so or anything like that—it’s just that you feel it’s only natural to mimic the dimpled boy in his very own cheer.

You’ve exchanged so many jokes and tremors within the six or so years you’ve known each other. From highschool and petty drama where you vowed to each other to never interact with humans over a pint of rum-chocolate ice cream, to now; fresh out of college and promising each other to not forget friend date nights over a bottle of whatever was cheap and weak (because you both thankfully found jobs and you’d like to keep them AND drink on week nights).

You two finally begin walking, away from the bus station you, and into the street right next to it. The change of scenery would’ve given you whiplash if it weren’t for you getting accustomed to the city. Bustling with life, the new corner of town breathed modern and chic, paved elegantly but full of people on a nightly outing, much like yourself and Yoonoh.

Along the pavement, mostly restaurants and niche stores lined up one after another. Though the stores were mostly in the process of closing up (like the leather store you knew everyone went to for a new wallet or jacket), the restaurants were just starting. Even if none of them stayed open past one in the morning, their peak was just starting. Traditional restaurants which you knew to be distinguished, those newer and sleek ones with food you’d spend half your paycheck on, and of course the animal cafés wrapping up their last shift, it was all so natural.

“So, what do you feel like eating?” you break the silence, looking at the man next to you. Yoonoh seems to break out of a reverie and you wonder why he’s so beautiful just simply not paying attention.

“The usual?” he asks out loud, and you simply agree by rising to your tippy toes to scan how far away your favourite restaurant is. The crowd is certainly at a peak tonight, and although you know where to go, Yoonoh grabs you by your elbow, gentle as ever, and breaks his way through the crowd.

He’s truly a darling, you realize, when he links your arms properly and worms his way through the surplus of people. You try to look ahead so as not to bump into anyone, but even from the side, Yoonoh is so distracting and simply amazing. Your heart thumps in your chest.

Even as you face the restaurant door, and both try to peer inside to check for a possible table, he doesn’t let go of your arm. For a split second, there’s guilt creeping up your neck for the sole reason of your heart racing and your stomach fluttering for contact which you’re used to, and something he’s done before with you, but it quickly dissipates when you remind yourself that it’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong just holding on to your friend, because Yoonoh wouldn’t have continued to hold you if he wasn’t okay with it.

What does kill you, though, is him opening the door for you.

It’s a simple gesture and he’s just being polite, you remind yourself again, and you’re probably right. But the way he smiles at you before saying there’s a table he saw by the cash register? It simply knocks a breath out of your lungs, and you grin while you follow him.

Your dinner goes well— when you’re seated, you immediately begin catching up. Yoonoh tells you about his promotion, and before you know it, you’re deciding on ordering shots to really celebrate. Neither of you are drunk because your meals are truly heavy and the drinks you ordered before the shots were sipped slowly, but you’re feeling buzzed and elated.

It’s only after you start discussing music that you realize the restaurant is beginning to slowly but surely clear out. People were leaving and the staff were wiping down tables with an air of finality. To avoid feeling bad, you finish up your drinks and split the bill before walking outside, which is when Yoonoh turns to you, “Come over?”

Come over. You chuckle at that and nod, obviously. You’ve been over before, sleeping over and joking around with Yoonoh. You didn’t do it often¸ because you were two adults with busy schedules, but sleepovers with him were such a warm thing to experience.

You slept over for Christmas the first year he got the apartment— cozying up and taking quizzes on the internet before making breakfast food for dinner. You stayed up more than you slept, and you even ended up building a fort for your friends who were set to come over in a couple hours. It felt incredibly homey, and you truly had fun.

But you had work tomorrow… and so did he… Before you could even get a word in, he grabbed your hand to lead you out of the street, which was also slowly clearing out. “I’ll call in sick, I hope that you can, too.”

Come to think of it, you could— you didn’t use any sick days, and you definitely missed talking to Yoonoh when the clock hand passed three. He was much more open and raw, and so were you; but the comfort never left. He’d tell you about his life, and you’d tell him about yours before one of you would crack a horrible joke that made both of you feel better.

Catching the bus is easy enough, and you and Yoonoh find yourself in front of his apartment soon enough. Walking up the stairs is a bit of a struggle, because he keeps giggling and it makes you way too happy to focus on the basic action of moving. But this is fine, because he seems so happy and light on his feet that it simply makes you forget your inability to concentrate around him.

He opens the door for you again, and you rush to take your shoes off so that you can jump onto his couch. He makes a sound, you assume to complain, before he comes to yank you from the couch by your arm.

“Come on, I’ll give you spare pyjamas! Get up,” he whines, though there’s a grin on his face, and he finishes by huffing. You only listen to him because you feel uncomfortable in the attire you have donned (or that’s what you tell yourself).

It’s when you’re both in his undoubtedly large bed, together and under two blankets because he insists it’s cold, giggling at a silly remark you made, that you realize how smitten you feel. Yoonoh looks adorable in his sleepwear, eyes hidden behind his eyelids as he smiles. You caused that smile— something that brings a weird sense of pride into your heart. It makes you feel warm; Yoonoh makes you feel warm.

He decides at once that it’s time to sleep, and your gaze casts towards the clock on his wall reading four fifty something. It’s closer to six than you’d like, and you agree to both text your workplaces before passing out.

You’re not proud of the lie you come up with for your manager, but you don’t stress about it as you turn your back to Yoonoh so that you can finally close your eyes. You simply can’t, though, your stomach tightening with a burning curiosity.

You turn to him again, “Yoonoh…” and he opens his eyes gingerly. You laugh at his confused eyes, before inching closer— maybe too close, but your own gaze finds his neck. “Why did you get the tattoo? Really.”

He purses his lips, turning his head upwards so you can get another look at the tattoo. You wiggle your hand out of the blanket to softly press against his neck, tracing the design gingerly. He doesn’t complain, but you can tell that the very edges of the tattoo still haven’t healed up properly, and so you retract your hand.

“You want a truthful answer? I just thought it’d be cool,” Yoonoh begins, “but it has a meaning. It’s an oni tattoo on the neck, which would mean I would’ve been able to hide it if I had long hair. It’s not the mask though, so it wouldn’t be ‘evil’.

“It can mean two things— the fangs mean that I’m warding off people and protecting myself. Kinda like one of those poisonous frogs, but less colourful. The face itself means that I’m trying to transcend humanity, get better and grow stronger with the help of people.

“Oh, and speaking of colour— I wanted it in full colour at first, but then the artist suggested more fine lined detail and we just went with it. I guess I’m happy with it, since it’s on my neck and all.”

You hum in wonder, coming to lie down even closer to him. Your nose brushes against his shoulder, and you hear Yoonoh’s breath hitch, making your own stop in its tracks. “It’s cool, too. I already told you it looks good,” you whisper.

You hear him let out a laughing breath, before he bids you goodnight with your name in tow.

When you wake up again, the morning feels way too new. Somehow, throughout the night (or, morning, rather, as it’s now well in the afternoon) you managed to get your head on Yoonoh’s chest. His arm sits around your shoulders, whilst yours is wrapped around his torso. He’s still sleeping peacefully, and so you slip out of his death grip as quietly as you can, so as not to wake him.

You know your way around his home, and your instinct is to make him tea. You’re not sure what he has in his fridge, so you opt not to start on breakfast. Yoonoh had the worst habit of forgetting to stack up or grocery shop at all, usually getting take-out instead of cooking. You don’t exactly want to take your chances.

You do work while he’s asleep, though, washing his dishes and wiping down his fancy counter. He comes out while you’re throwing away the paper towel you used. Yoonoh’s morning smile is the best thing in the world, you think, because he seems so pure as he comes to prop himself up on the counter.

“Good morning.” His voice is even better to head, and the grogginess not fully gone from it makes you smile as you hand him the cup of lukewarm tea.

Your cup is nearly finished, but as you bring it up to your lips, he speaks, “Can I ask you a question?”

A million things run through your mind at once, at last settling on concern for your friend. You raise your eyebrow at him, sitting across from where he was leaning. Yoonoh smiles at you again, most likely to try and put you at ease, “Did you… did you enjoy your time with me?”

It rings in your head that something’s not right, and your face contorts as you try and figure out what he means. Your voice carries a curious lilt within it, “Of course. I always enjoy when we go out.”

But it doesn’t seem to be enough for him. Yoonoh takes a sip of his tea, and his eyes seem determined to bore into your soul. You try to maintain the intense eye contact, waiting for him to finally voice his doubts. Within minutes, everything has turned way too tense for your taste, and you simply have to reach out to press your hand against your friend’s arm.

He puts his tea mug down, standing upright and walking over to your side of the counter. You’re entirely surprised when he grabs your cheeks, cupping them together. You let out a noise you’re not proud of, and involuntarily jerk backwards, but the man simply holds you in place. He’s gentle, though, and you ease up once he gives you a smile.

“I meant, did you enjoy sleeping with me,” to this you give a snort, and he grimaces before pinching your cheek, “not like that, you nerd.” This causes you to give a half-assed kick to his shins, to which he pretends to be incredibly hurt, ows and ouchs included.

“Yes, Yoonoh. I enjoyed sleeping in your bed,” you chuckle, hooking your hands onto his elbows. “What’s with the sudden questioning?”

He squished your cheeks together once more, “I don’t really know where to start with it. You make me kind of nervous to even try.”

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, your brain running through and endless amount of possibilities as to what Yoonoh could possibly mean. Your hands gripped at his elbows, and your eyebrows furrowed as you got ready to fire out questions, but luckily he spoke again before you embarrassed yourself.

“I’ve always felt different towards you, I guess. We’ve been friends for so long that I just never thought it was anything serious. And I’ve felt this before— just like last night— but… ahh,” his face scrunched up, and yours followed soon as the corners of your lips rose into a petite grin.

“I guess what I’m saying is that I really, really like you, and yesterday cemented it.” He finally gets out, sighing. You stay there for a moment, letting his words register in your brain. He’s special to you… and you sound to be just as special to him.

Your hands move to his wrists, patting them to get him to loosen up. It gives you some leeway to close the distance between the two of you, bringing him into a ginger kiss. Yoonoh seems surprised (though you don’t entirely blame him for it), a startled yip leaving his lips. His grip on your cheeks loosens with time as he moulds his lips against yours, thumbs running over your cheeks.

You don’t keep him there for long, sudden bashfulness hitting you. You pull away, finding it a bit challenging to look him in the eyes again, though when you do you’re met with the warmth you’ve familiarised yourself with. You can’t help the laugh bubbling out of you, pulling Yoonoh close to you into a death grip of a hug.

“I really, really like you too silly. And for six or so years, too.”

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corolune · 3 years

Text

Breathing Underwater Chapter Two: Nimbus

AO3 / Tumblr Alex had always known he wasn’t like other children. They didn't hear the song of the ocean in their ears, or feel the thrumming rhythm of the waves in their hearts like he did. Then he finds a silvery coat made of seal fur, glistening and calling him to slip it on — and everything he thought he knew about himself washes away like foam on the sea. Alex Rider is a selkie, and this is the story of how a seal becomes a spy. Prologue 〰 Chapter 1: Zephyr 〰 Chapter 2: Nimbus 〰 Chapter 3: Lightning

nim·bus — a large grey rain cloud

The weeks after their little holiday found Alex holed up in his room, going through everything they’d brought back from the lake cottage, his fur coat always by his side. The locket was stubborn, and refused to open no matter what he tried. But he noticed it warmed in his palm the nearer it was to the seal fur. He spent hours and hours researching selkie lore and seals, although he was under strict instructions from Ian to not breathe a word of it to Jack or Tom. He scoffed at the thought, as if he could honestly even try to tell them. What would he even say, Surprise, I’m actually a seal? No, that was a conversation for later, or maybe never.

He told them the sealskin, which was oddly shaped like a small coat, belonged to his mother. It was a passable lie — the head of the skin was shaped like a hood, and the flippers turned into sleeves when it was laid out on his bed. Even when he wore it, it looked like a strange, oversized hoodie with its uneven hem and lumpy material. The internet assured him that young seals had uneven fur which would soon turn velvety smooth as they aged, so he supposed that one day it might look like an elegant coat. The fact that he wandered around wearing his mother’s old fur coat was maybe a little strange, but it was much more sensible than the truth. Unfortunately, once Ian came back home from another business trip, he decided to put an end to it.

“Alex,” he started, once they were alone in the kitchen, Jack having gone to sleep. “You have to put all this away. School’s starting soon and while this…” he waved his hands at the fur which was, as always, around Alex’s shoulders, “is simply incredible, I don’t want you to lose yourself. You’re Alex Rider, a normal, ordinary London boy, not a...selkie.”

“But I am one!” Alex insisted in a harsh whisper. “And I’ve been a perfectly normal boy for my whole life! It’s not exactly the most exciting and desirable thing to be.”

“Trust me, Alex, you’ll thank me for this when you’re older.” Ian shook his head, tugging at the coat. “We don’t want this falling in the wrong hands, do we? Even your mum said to keep it hidden away, and here you are, showing it off to anyone who cares to look.”

Alex stayed standing where he was, crossing his arms to keep his uncle from sliding the fur off of him, and thought of something else his mum had said in her letter. He’d even read about it in one of the many books on selkies that he’d borrowed from the library — an irresistible charm, and a power of persuasion that selkies, especially male ones, held over humans. He’d tried it on Jack earlier in a bid for extra ice cream, and it had worked extraordinarily well. Squinting his eyes, he locked gazes with Ian, and focused on the ocean song that had settled comfortably around him ever since he’d first worn his sealskin. “I think you’d like to change your mind about that,” he said slowly and purposefully.

He was a little offended when Ian just chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Nope, that’s not going to work on me. Not until you’ve had more practice, anyway.”

“Fine,” Alex grumbled, letting his arms drop to his sides. Ian gently took the coat from him, shaking it out softly. “Don’t worry, we’ll find someplace safe to keep this. I’ll make sure we take plenty of holidays to the seaside, and you can wear it then.”

Later, Ian showed him a secret drawer in his study, and Alex carefully folded the fur into the tiny, hidden space. He was still reluctant to part with it, but he had to agree with his uncle that he should be more careful.

〰〰

When Ian was at home, Alex once again spent his days doing schoolwork, playing football, and sneaking off to the shops downtown with Tom. But when Ian was gone, Alex would slip quietly into his study after dark, when Jack was fast asleep. He swiped paperclips from his uncle’s desk and deftly bent them just the way Ian had taught him. It took a little practice, but soon he was easily popping open the lock with a few soft clicks. From the hidden drawer, he would pull out his fur coat, content to hold it close for the night before locking it away again when the sun rose.

Sometimes, if he was feeling especially daring, he would secret it away into the bottom of his school bag where it would settle into a pleasant warmth, like sun-kissed sand. On those days, he would feign sickness to skip football practice after school and make his way to a tiny park nearby, where a large pond sat behind rusted metal gates. It was a strangely quiet, peaceful patch of nature in the middle of the city that he had found quite by accident while biking home one day. Ages ago, it had been closed off with a metal fence running around the empty lot — it was quick work for Alex to throw his bag across and clamber over the flimsy metal. As dusk fell in the short autumn days, he would be hidden from anyone curious enough to peek through the overgrown willow trees and needly shrubs that clung to their makeshift trellis of criss-crossed metal.

There, he was safe enough to dig through his school books and papers, shoving them aside to pull out his sealskin. Sometimes he would only sit on the rocky edge of the pond, dangling his feet in the cool water, basking in the waning sun. Other times, he was brave enough to pull on the skin completely, and splash into the water, leaving his books and shoes behind on the pebbles. Swimming as a seal was so different from all the times he’d swam before — water that should have been icy cold seemed refreshing and he could hold his breath for much longer. Most exciting of all, he could float into all the nooks and crannies and explore them with his much clearer eyesight, following little fish or finding the perfect, shimmery pebble. Once, he even chased an unassuming flock of ducks, delighting in their confusion when he ran after them and dove into the water, reemerging as a seal. Then, before the sun started setting in earnest, he would trudge back to shore, sliding off his coat and shaking it dry in the chilly air.

Alex was able to keep this up for a lot longer than he’d thought — he had to give credit to Ian’s lessons on subterfuge — but as time went on, he became too confident, and his rare days of swimming became more of a regular habit.

It was the spring term of Year 8, with the weather starting to warm and trees starting to bloom — the perfect time for a weekend trip to the lake house, but as usual Ian had gotten tied up in his work and Alex was stuck in London. He’d begged off a film night with his friends, and quietly wandered towards his hidden reprieve. The gentle breeze whistled through the clear skies, and the neighborhood path was filled with children playing in the flowery gardens that lined the street.

He ducked underneath the looming branches of the old weeping willow, and brushed aside the creeping leaves that crawled their way up the fence. In the few years that he’d discovered the little pond, weeds had taken over much of the black metal, and tall grass took up residence on the coarse gravel around it. He’d broken the lock earlier in the year so now the door swung open easily, but latched back into place as he carefully closed it.

The sun glinted off the water invitingly, and he could already tell how warm and pleasant it would feel against his skin. In his haste to peel off his blazer and shoes, he didn’t hear the gate swing open, or the soft footsteps that crept inside the clearing as Alex dug out his coat. By the time he pulled it on and splashed his way to the edge of the water, there was someone else following Alex with his mouth hanging open.

“Mate, you’ve been skipping films and footie to hang out in this dump??”

Alex froze, standing still in the sunlight, before slowly turning to face his friend. There, shaking his head in disbelief, was Tom.

“Er, I can explain?” Alex knew there was no way to explain but surely there was no harm in trying.

Tom pointed at the pond, which was littered with slimy algae and water plants. “You know that’s probably like a biohazard, right? Please tell me you haven’t been swimming in there when there’s perfectly nice swimming pools at school.”

“Um,” Alex tried to stall.

“Oh my God, you have,” Tom groaned, burying his face into his hands. “My best mate is gonna turn into a sea monster and I’m gonna have to find anchovies to feed you!!”

“Okay you’re taking this a bit too far, I’m not going to start eating anchovies just because I swam in a natural pond.”

Tom huffed, throwing his bag down, where it tipped over Alex’s, and rolled up his trousers before wading into the water next to him. “Do you really hate superhero films so much though? You could’ve just told me, we could have ditched the rest of the boys and watched something else.”

Coming from Tom, who lived and breathed superhero films, that was saying a lot. Alex decided then, that this was one of Ian’s rules he would break. Tom had always stood by him and was really one of his only friends — he didn’t deserve to be left in the dark. Maybe he would regret this later, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

“Well, maybe you weren’t, um, too far off with the sea creature thing,” he started, glancing at Tom out of the corner of his eye.

Tom stared at him like he’d turned into a frog. “Mate, I think you drank some of this water or something. How’re you feeling?” He brushed the back of his hand to Alex’s forehead. “You’re burning up, why’re you wearing a fur coat in this weather?? Listen you gotta take this off and then we’ll —”

Alex shoved his hands away, pulling his hood back on. “Tom, stop, I’m being serious!”

Tom took this as a challenge, and attacked the coat, tugging sides of it in an effort to take it off. Alex retaliated by grabbing the coat and pulling it closed, and in the scuffle they both splashed into the water, the hood falling over Alex’s face. As he slid into the pond, he could hear the familiar melody of the ocean, and instinctively let it wash over him.

An instant later, he cursed his reflexes.

“Stop pulling my coat!” He tried to say, but what he heard was, bark baaaark ba-bark. He turned wide eyes to Tom, who was again staring at him like he’d turned into a—well, a seal.

“...Alex?” His voice sounded strained. Alex nodded. “Could you, uh, roll? Off of me?”

Oh, thought Alex, that’s why he sounded out of breath. As he moved his flippers around, Tom scrambled out of the water, gasping for breath on the grassy stones behind him. Alex flopped his way over to him, hoping he hadn’t given Tom a heart attack.

As he got closer he could hear Tom mumbling to himself, rubbing his eyes viciously. Alex put a reassuring flipper on his knee. Tom peeked out at him and hesitantly patted the flipper.

“So...this isn’t a dream?”

Alex rolled his large, round, seal-y eyes.

“Ok, so I’ve somehow managed to turn my best friend into a seal, no big deal, we’ll figure out how to turn you back into a person again.”

“Oi, I’m still a person!”

Tom pushed his hands onto Alex’s mouth, looking around frantically. “Bark a little quieter, will you? People are going to think I’ve kidnapped a seal!”

Alex finally came to his senses, and let the watery rhythm evaporate from his mind. Peeling off the wet fur and letting it drip onto the grass he scowled, “I’m a selkie, not a seal.”

“Oh good you’re a person again,” was Tom’s response as he fell back onto the grass.

That was as good a response as any, Alex thought, as he dropped down next to his friend. Later, Tom would have a million questions, and come up with outlandish theories, and stage an impromptu fashion show with the sealskin. But for now, he was just glad his best mate hadn’t turned into a mutant sea monster.

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#alex rider #tom harris #selkie au #selkies #fic #my fic #fanfiction #seals #breathing underwater #my writing #sorry I didn't post this here at the same time as AO3 #I mainly use my ipad for writing and the tumblr app is the WORST

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

Text

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

This is actually an unfinished short story that I wrote three years ago. So you may notice that it’s a little different from my current writing style in some ways. It’s been edited a wee bit before posting, mostly proofreading stuff, but this is an urban fantasy short I was working on years back about a young man who accidentally becomes king of the goblins. He really really does not want to be king of the goblins.

He never should have taken the detour that night: that was the source of all his troubles.

Work had been brutal, with a grand total of ten patients either screaming over the phone about the charge for their appointment, or trying to convince him that the doctor had approved a kind of medicine that he most certainly had not prescribed. Of course, since he was “just a receptionist”, they all assumed they could bully him into agreeing with whatever they wanted. Admittedly, by the time he had clocked out for the day, Seth Jefferson Jr. had had just about all the frustration he could take.

All he really wanted to do was go home, sit on the couch, and not talk to anyone for the next three hours. So when he spotted five or six scowling young men congregating around the only streetlight on his normal route home, he decided to take the path of least resistance. Seth had never cut through the ratty, overgrown park before, but it would only add a few minutes to his commute. It seemed like a better idea than trying to navigate around the men up ahead, at least. He hopped the fence and continued on his way, hands in his pockets.

Seth kicked through a pile of leaves and discarded beer cans, wrinkling his nose. Midsummer Park had been a very nice place once, when he was young. It hadn’t been the most popular destination, but there had been a certain charm to the way the flowers had been planted in spirals around the tree trunks. The flowers were gone, now. Nobody had bothered to do any landscaping there for years, and the plants grew as they pleased now.

Seth pulled his coat a little closer to his neck, shivering. The park was quiet, save for the soft chirps of crickets and the occasional frog. His own footsteps sounded unbearably loud as he walked, as if he was trespassing. He could not shake the feeling that someone or something was watching him. He hoped it wasn’t the men from the sidewalk.

The toe of his sneaker met the thin stalk of a Clitocybe nuba with a barely audible plop. Seth glanced down at the mushroom, then caught sight of a large, ugly toad watching him from the shelter of another mushroom a few inches away. Gross.

There was a whole ring of the fungus, extending perhaps ten feet in diameter. Some might have thought of old legends and superstitions and walked around it, but Seth had no time for fairytales. Cold and annoyed at having to go out of his way, he stepped over the mushroom he’d kicked and moved on through the center of the circle. That was a mistake.

Instantly, Seth knew that something was terribly wrong. His feet were frozen to the dying grass as though they’d grown roots. His arms hung heavy at his sides, coated in an icy numbness from his shoulders to his fingertips. Panic gripped his lungs, and he strained to breathe. His eyes could still move, and he cast them about wildly, looking for the source of his paralysis.

The toad who had been sitting at the edge of the mushroom ring hopped forward with slow, squelching motions before coming to rest at Seth’s feet. Its eyes shone an uncanny gold, and then before Seth’s eyes, it began to change.

The toad grew in size until it was near the height of a large dog, then it straightened to stand on its back legs. The toadskin fell away like a discarded poncho, and left the most preposterous figure Seth had ever seen.

It was covered from its head to its cloven hooves in short, coarse hair or fur, most of which was covered by a very ugly embroidered tunic and breeches. Long, tangled hair hung down around the person’s shoulders, sprouting from a skull that sported horns. Horns of all things! Seth registered all this in silence, mostly owing to the fact that he was not able to open his mouth.

“Well well!” the strange figure said, and Seth’s heart skipped a beat at the eerie whispery sound. “Not many humans get stuck in these anymore! I wonder who we’ve got to thank for that? Your internet? Probably your internet.”

They leaned down to peer into Seth’s eyes. “How old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-four? Old enough to know better. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not nice to walk through a fairy ring?”

You’re kidding me. Seth thought. Fairies? As in pixies and flowers and little glittery wings on kids’ dolls? Yeah right. This guy looks more like a demon.

As if they’d read the human’s thoughts, the satyr-like figure snorted, twitching their pointed ears.

“Now don’t tell me you thought all fairies were dainty little girls wearing flower petals? Human exaggeration: utterly ridiculous.”

Seth decided that he had to be hallucinating this. He’d probably slipped on one of those empty beer cans and struck his head on a rock or something. Now he was dreaming up some pseudo-mythological weirdness. Might as well play along until he woke up, right?

Seth’s more logical side pointed out that there was no evidence that he’d taken a fall of any kind, but Seth was not prepared to acknowledge that the satyr existed. Neither was he prepared to follow the line of reasoning that said the satyr might be a figment of his imagination, and that he might be standing in a field staring at nothing.

“Fairies, huh?” he croaked. He was a little surprised that his mouth was able to move at all, as it had been stuck shut only moments before. He coughed, and swallowed a few times in an attempt to strengthen his voice.

“I’m guessing that saying I don’t believe in fairies isn’t going to make you fall down dead.” he said dryly.

The satyr performed an odd little caper and cackled.

“No indeed! I don’t know why that idea caught on, but it’s not true.” They paused, and glanced slyly at Seth out of the corner of their eye. “In fact, saying I don’t believe in fairies usually results in a goblin being born.”

Abruptly the look of amusement dulled into something closer to flat annoyance. “There’s been quite a population boom in the Umbralands recently, as a matter of fact. You humans should stop telling your young that we aren’t real.”

This struck Seth as slightly amusing, but he said nothing. Whether he was dreaming, hallucinating, or actually experiencing this -- which had to be impossible. Fairies and Goblins had no place in modern, rational society! -- he’d been standing in the mushroom circle far too long. Seth needed to get home!

“I was never the fairytale type,” he said shortly, “Exactly what happens now?”

He hoped his tone conveyed what his frozen body language could not: that he was tired, hungry, and not in the mood to put up with any magical monkeyshines from this decidedly odd figure who had so rudely interrupted his Friday evening.

The satyr studied him a moment, as if they were trying to measure the man’s personality with their eyes alone. They paced with an odd, rollicking gait, whistling merrily through Their teeth.

They looked jolly enough, but there was something about them that made Seth’s chest tighten with a kind of fearful caution. Apparently, his body knew something he didn’t, and was classifying the satyr as a threat.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that things like satyrs just weren’t supposed to exist. There was a certain level of aporia spreading through his mind, suppressing his thoughts and reactions until there was nothing left but an unending hum and an anxious awareness of what was happening around him.

“What should we do with you?” the satyr mused, beginning to pace a loping circle around Seth.

“In the past, we used to set impossible tasks for interlopers. Or, I could keep you here, dancing uncontrollably for a year and a day or until someone figured out you were missing and called your true name. But that’s all pretty standard fare.”

They came to a stop just behind Seth’s left shoulder, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Seth wished he could move, even just his arms so that he could protect the vulnerable stalk of veins and vertebrae.

Come on, Seth, he tried to reason with himself, It’s a goat-person. Not a vampire. It probably won’t drink your blood. But then again, Seth didn’t know anything about goat-people. Who was to say it wouldn’t try to eat him? It -- he? they? -- had been pretty menacing thus far.

He heard the satyr take a deep breath, then out of the corner of his eye he saw them walk around to stand in front of him again. They were smiling, and right away Seth decided he didn’t much like the look of that smile.

“I’ll tell you what, human. Since it’s late, and you’re probably tired, let’s do this: if you guess my name, I’ll sweep this under the rug and we can both pretend it never happened.”

Oh that just screamed “suspicious”. Even if he wasn’t familiar with a lot of folktales, Seth knew Rumplestiltskin, and he had a bad feeling about this seemingly-innocuous guessing game. Despite his better judgment, however, it seemed like this might be the only way out of this stupid mushroom ring.

“What’s the catch?” he rasped.

The satyr blinked slowly, then shrugged. “I suppose if you fail, I’ll get to set an impossible task for you after all,” they said innocently.

Seth muttered some choice words under his breath and stared very hard at the goat-person. “How many guesses do I get?” he asked shrewdly.

“I’m feeling generous. I’ll say five.”

Noticing Seth’s disgusted expression, the creature bared surprisingly sharp teeth in a slightly aggressive smile and leaned close.

“Just be glad I picked guess my name and not a game of riddles. You don’t look like you’d be very good at those.”

Well, that much was true, but Seth wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of hearing it confirmed. He racked his brain for bizarre and fantastical names. Rumplestiltskin could be dismissed out of hand, at least, as could most of the Tolkien-esque names that presented themselves to him after a few moments.

“Is it Mephistopheles?” he asked first.

“No. It’s a good name though, I’ll keep it in mind if I ever change mine.”

“Fine.” Seth squinted and looked for another. “Pan?”

The satyr narrowed their eyes. “It’s because of the hooves, right? That’s profiling and I resent it.”

Well, safe to say “Pan” was not their name. Seth tried hard to think and guessed again.

“Wormwood?”

“Okay,” the other answered with gritted teeth, “Now you’re trying to insult me.”

“Hey, I’m working with what I have, here!” Seth protested. “What about, er, Fauna?”

The satyr didn’t look at all impressed. “Well that’s not very creative, is it? A bit more feminine than I prefer, too. Try again.”

Seth’s remaining guess met with similar results. Frustration bubbled up inside him. It had been rigged from the start. He’d known that, of course, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still get angry about it. Seth was at least glad that his face was still mobile. He twisted his lips into a vicious scowl, which he directed at the smug satyr.

“Well that’s my five guesses, used up. You might as well tell me what it was,” he growled.

“Of course, where are my manners?” said the satyr sarcastically. They swept into a low bow with a flourish of their hand. “They call me Chicanery. Lord Chicanery Black, if you require a title and surname.”

Seth was furious. “And how would I have been able to guess something like that?” he demanded.

“You wouldn’t,” Chicanery answered carelessly, “That’s the whole point. But while we’re doing introductions, what’s your name, human?”

Seth nearly said his name, but at the last second changed his mind. He had no idea why, but it seemed like a bad idea to just casually give the creature his full name. Was it something he’d read once?

“Jefferson.” he answered. Chicanery nodded.

He cracked his bulging knuckles and leaned on Seth’s shoulder in a very irritating fashion.

“Well, Jeff, you failed the test. So now I get to set a task for you.”

“No.”

Chicanery looked astonished, as though it had never actually occurred to him that someone would refuse to play along. For just a moment, a flash of anger crackled -- quite literally crackled as if it were a spark of electricity -- in his eyes, and a chill ran up Seth’s spine. Perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to antagonize the creature.

“Impossible task, or stay here in the ring until you die of either starvation or old age. Your choice.” he said coldly.

“That isn’t fair.”

He knew it was childish, but Seth couldn’t help pointing it out. He had a job, a life, and none of this made any sense at all.

“If life was fair, I wouldn’t be stuck here guarding an abandoned dance ring,” Chicanery answered dryly. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, you’ll be rewarded if you actually pull it off. You need a car? Or a better job?” he stared pointedly at Seth’s scrubs.

Seth squinted at Chicanery, trying to gauge just how much of the odd being’s words were truth. It wasn’t as if he had a precedent for this to measure it against. The promise of a car was tempting, though he didn’t know how he’d afford the gas. No, best not to get ahead of himself. He didn’t know what Chicanery wanted him to do yet. Still, he was more than ready to get out of this fairy ring.

“What exactly did you have in mind?” he asked warily.

Looking immensely pleased with himself, Chicanery hopped back a pace and spread his arms wide.

“See? Was that so hard?” he asked. Then he leaned in again. “You’re going to help me run a little errand. It’s just some housekeeping. And by “housekeeping”, I mean you’re going to help me usurp the throne of Unter Kobold, king of the Umbralands. I assume you have a gun, or can get one?”

“What.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Chicanery held out one of his calloused, hairy hands and Seth found that he could move again. “Do we have a deal, or am I leaving you here?”

Well, when you put it that way, Seth thought bitterly, and he gingerly shook the satyr’s hand.

It felt like being grabbed by a pinecone. Something stung his skin and the human pulled his hand away with a hiss of pain. A shimmering mark in the shape of a leaf curled outward across his palm with the same faint crackle he’d heard before.

“You’re free to go now, Jefferson,” Chicanery said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We start planning tomorrow.”

The moment Seth stepped out of the mushroom ring, the satyr was gone. In his place, the ugly toad from before sat, watching him. Seth shuddered and hurried home as quickly as he could. As much as he desperately wanted to convince himself that none of that had been real, he could not deny that he’d only lost five minutes by the time he got home, and the leaf-mark on his palm did not wash away.

Seth kicked off his shoes and did not bother to change into pajamas as he fell into bed. He could only hope that the satyr would forget about him after a few days.

He awoke the next morning to the sound of someone moving around in his kitchen. Seth felt around for the baseball bat he kept next to his bed, then eased his bedroom door open. Now he could hear voices.

“-well we can’t do that. No no, that’s much too much pepper. See? It looks weird now.”

Something gurgled and croaked, but Seth couldn’t make out whether or not it was words. He was more concerned with the fact that the first voice had belonged to Chicanery Black.

Seth marched into the kitchen, bat upraised, to find the satyr and a grotesque little creature that appeared to be a cross between a crocodile and a sugar glider sitting on his shoulder. They were bent over the stove, observing eggs frying in a pan. Chicanery turned with a grin.

“Ah! Morning, partner. Collywobble and I were just debating on how much pepper humans usually put in their eggs. How much do you put in?”

Flabbergasted, Seth’s mouth worked soundlessly for a few minutes before he gasped, “None! And how did you even get in here? Don’t you guys have to be, like, invited or something?”

“That’s vampires,” Chicanery shoved a forkful of boiling hot egg into his mouth and spoke around it. “Which don’t exist, by the way.”

“Of course,” Seth muttered sarcastically. “Because that’s much weirder than a satyr frying eggs in my kitchen.”

Chicanery did not grace this with an answer. He shoveled the other egg out onto a plate in an ugly lump, and handed a fork to Seth.

“Today,” he said, “You’re going to go to your public library and look up everything humans ever wrote about goblins and gargoyles and how to kill them.”

Seth seriously considered making a snide remark about homework, but decided not to push his luck. If the satyr had no trouble getting into his house, there was no telling what else he could do. He groaned and set his baseball bat down so he could eat.

“You weren’t going to stay here, were you?” he asked, gagging on the amount of pepper in the rapidly cooling egg. “I mean, is this going to be a regular thing?”

Chicanery glanced at the diminutive creature on his shoulder and back at Seth.

“I’ll stay until the task is completed.” he answered, confirming Seth’s worst fears. He leaned casually against the counter and raised a hand to scratch Collywobble behind the ears. “You know, you’re taking all this remarkably well. The last human I tried to recruit went stark raving mad, you know. They had to cart him away after he went goblin hunting in a supermarket. After an experience like that, it’s nice to find a human with a good, stretchy mind.”

Collywobble made a wet, barking sound in what was presumably agreement. Seth made a face and gestured to it.

“Okay, what is that?” he sighed.

“She,” Chicanery corrected, “Is Collywobble. She’s a goblin, and you’d better get used to her because you’ll be seeing a lot more of them.”

“Why?” Seth asked, already certain he would not like the answer.

Chicanery looked at him as if he’d lost his senses.

“One does not simply overthrow a goblin king without minions!”

Collywobble snuffled agreeably at this, then hopped down to the table. Seth decided that this was altogether too much weirdness for one morning, and that he’d be better off at the library. He stood and opened the refrigerator, looking for a stiff drink to chase away the taste of burnt and over-peppered egg.

Something like a winged porcupine held up a three-toed paw in greeting and he slammed the door.

“Why.” was all he managed to say.

Chicanery opened the refrigerator again and brightened.

“Oh! Widdershins!” he said, “So you found the place after all. What do our friends at the armory say?”

“I’m done.” Seth threw his hands into the air and left the kitchen. This was ignored by Chicanery, Collywobble, and Widdershins.

After discovering one more goblin in his clothes hamper and one in the closet, Seth threw on his shoes and stormed out of the house, locking it behind him. It likely wouldn’t do any good at all, seeing as Chicanery and his minions had just sort of materialized to begin with, but it gave him a slight sense of satisfaction.

#folklore friday #original fiction #original characters #original story #urban fantasy #fairytales #fairy rings #short story #long post #Chicanery Black. He's a brat.#Seth has so many annoyances ahead of him #fic prompts #writing prompts #someday i might finish this but i have no idea what was supposed to come next

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octania · 4 years

Text

Icy summer explosion (part 2)

Bakugo x Reader

Shoto x Reader

Genre: Romance, Drama, Comedy

Warning: Smut, Cursing

Type: Series

Words: 2815

Characters in this part: Bakugo, Shoto, Deku, Kaminari, Kirishima.

Short description: A tense summer love drama between you, Bakugo and Shoto. It all starts in summer paradise, but where will it end and how?

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Deku came running back with the hoodie in his hand, trying to find a passage between the ice blocks that hid their bodies. After walking around the ice prison as a tracker dog in a search of a way in and found nothing, he looked anxiously towards Shoto. Without a word, Shoto walked calmly to the ice prison and laid his hand on it. At the speed of light, the ice began to melt. The water flowed down the ice, melting it more and more, until a hole, that was big enough for Deku to pass through, appeared.

Deku went in, carefully approached the girl on Bakugos back.

“Ex..excuse me miss…I just want to cover you..ok? I will put th..”

“For fuck sake Deku, stop trying to see a nipple and put that hoodie on her already.”- Bakugo shouted clearly irritated, showing that his manners are, literally, nonexistent.

Tears appeared in Deku’s eyes from embarrassment . With shaking hands Deku covered Y/N back with the hoodie. She wanted to pull the hoodie on her, but realized that her hands were still locked tight around Bakugos neck, with his palm on her wrist as a lock.

“Hey..can you..?” – her voice died as he turned his head slowly, looking at her over his shoulder. His irises were the color of embers.

“Yeah..whatever.”- his answer sounded more like a moan then a sentence, making her shiver. Before he loosened up the grip on her wrists, he bent down a little, crossing with his rough palm over her thighs to her hip, landing her down slowly on her feet. He looked away, swallowing, removing his hands away from her quickly. Without breaking a sweat, he jumped to the top of the ice wall, skipping it in an instant then walking all the way to the small fire they made, sitting next to it, not turning around. The guys slowly approached the girl. As they came closer she could hear some whispers, they sounded surprised and nervous, but above all confused. They were not sure how to deal with this, taking the situation seriously. Well, at least the most of them did.

“So, that was it of our freedom. Aizawa will kill us, lock our bodies in a cage, and then stimulate us with electricity so we shake like frogs on the dissecting table. “- Kirishima started going out of the shallow water.

“One more word and I swear to God…”- Shoto said angrily, turning to Y/N.

“I apologize for him,..for all of this..please, my name is Todoroki Shoto, this is Deku, Kirishima and Kaminari..”-he started to point to every one of them, turning. “The guy who was dropped on his head when he was a child and now we suffer his rudeness, the same one that…well,I don’t know what happened, but the one who brought you here is Bakugo. Y/N turned her eyes to Bakugos back. Still not even a look from him. She felt fear, and it was not like her. This was too much to process, too impossible..if this was a fantasy, it would be a dream come true, but now, it looked like she did something bad, and she stood there as their problem. Sadness filled her chest.

“Don’t worry, I will not say a thing. I am sorry for this…Not even sure how it happened…I..I will go, I promise I will not mention it to no one, you don’t have to worry.” – she was stuttering from the cold and the sad feeling, starting to walk out fast, get away from here. But when she started to walk, dizziness took over, almost making her fall. The bump on the head, lack of air when they were swimming and now the panic, fucked her body pretty good. She almost fell, but a firm grip on her waist brought her back up.

“Careful, you will hurt yourself even more. Look, it is ok. Come, sit for a moment, then we will figure out the rest.”- Shoto said calmly with a worming smile. The others followed his example, smiling and walking next to her to the fire. She set down, embracing the warmth from the fire. She looked up, as now she was slowly realizing where she is, and who they are. Her heart started beating like a war drum. She tried to calm herself down, breathing slowly, when someone poked her.

“Hay..do you hear me? What is your name?”- Kirishima waved his hand in front of her eyes. She could not help but laugh on his expression.

“My name is Y/N. Nice to meet you all.”- she replied with a sweet voice.

“Better question is, are you single?”- Kaminari leaned over, getting in her face with a charming smile without shame. But the smile soon turned into an expression of pain when Kirishima slammed him on the head with his rock hard hand, using his quirk.

“Keep it in your pants moron! We are trying to be nice here!”- he screamed.

“Nice too meet you too Y/N. Are you around here?”- Deku took over, as now they all were looking at her with interest, except one. Bakugo gazed at the fire, with a blank expression on his face. But the shock was not the feeling he was confused by. He was confused by the explosive adrenaline and blinding interest he felt in the moment he looked to her eyes. Twice. First one in the water was swallowed by the panic, but the other one, when he gazed at her over his shoulder. When she spoke, breathing on his neck. Her sweet breath on his skin, followed with that shy look. He barely kept the calm expression on his face, covering up the instant need to smile, and he does not do shy or smiles. Even when he turned, he could still feel that breath on his shoulder moving down on his back as he bent down to let her go. He clenched his fists, biting his lip, as he remembered the arousing feeling of her silky and wet skin on his. Sliding down on him, making him feel her whole body on his back. He tried to stay serious, running away as fast as he could. He gazed straight at her, she was sitting right across from him.

“Damn it…”- he swallowed his words. She was staring right back at him. He could feel the heat rising, heart speeding up. He wanted to turn away, curse her off, but they eyes were locked on each other in that moment.

* * *

She engaged in almost joyful conversation with the guys. They were now relaxed and wanted to know more about her. All of them clam, except for him. She tried to look at him unnoticed, waiting for him to join the conversation or at last relax, but the opposite happened. She saw his torso straining and he bit his lip. Tingling in her body made her shiver once more. But that was not the end of her suffering. Water from his hair was not dripping slowly over his tight jaw, as the flame made his wet skin look hypnotic. She followed the damn drops as they traveled over his shoulder to his wrists, stopping on the hands imbued with veins. And then he clenched them, making the veins to pop out even more. His strong chest moving slowly from the deep breaths he was taking, making every muscle on the lower body alive and visible. She barely tore her eyes off of his body, but was caught by the two raging red eyes, freezing her. All the sounds around her went silent. Only thing she could hear was his breathing. It was sharp and deep, enchanting, like he his lips were right on her ear. Like something pulled her back in time, she could literally feel his firm palm slowly sliding on her thighs and hip. It felt like..it felt like he was trying to absorb her shape in his hands. His fingers squeezing a little, exploring her figure, searching for the right spot.

„Quiet! Guys, please,stop talking,now!“- suddenly, Deku silenced the gang, disrupting the hypnotic stare between Bakugo and Y/N.

“Yes! I swear I heard something down there!”- a shrill women voice was heard from the other side of the beach.

“Darla don’t play with us!”-the other one also irritating followed.

“I am not! And it sounded like there were a few people!”

“Oh yeah? Surly we will discover U.A. students right around this corner!”- there were a few of them that’s was certain. Shoto automatically kicked the sand with his foot on the fire, as it went out that instant. A few traces of smoke was all that was left. They all felt a cold feeling of danger. But not that they were afraid of a few teen aged girls, or thought they were too good for associating with fans,no, it was because they knew how to recognize a group of fanatic fans that had only one desire, to post them on the internet, showing everyone their discovery. It maybe seemed harmless enough, but it wasn’t. Because paparazzi only needed a small crumb to make a big fake story that effect them greatly. All lies, but no one cared for the truth, and the liars didn’t realize that the little freedom the boys got from their superiors depended on their secrecy. Y/N didn’t even notice, but they all were now on their feet, ready to get away from here. The surprise was, Shoto took her hand, pulling her on her feet as well.

“Hurry, we must go!”- he said in a rush. She started to run right beside them, along the beach, trying to find any kind of shelter. The problem was, as this was an island, the beach was just a cycle around the city, and the city itself was placed on a high ridge. Only a handful of paths exited that were suitable to get you back up from the beach to the city, and now, there was not even one in sight. The voices behind them got louder. Crazy teen girls found the place where they made the fire, and now were on a man hunt, convincing themselves there was something fishy going on. Unfortunately for the guys, they were right.

“There is no way out!”- Kirishima started to sweat, hopelessly looking around like an animal in a cage.

“There, on the rocks!”- Bakugo pointed on the large pieces of stone the size of one man, piled on top of one another.

“There is nothing there!”- answered Kaminari, turning his head. He could see the group of girls now, he could see the light of their phones shining.

“Just follow me god damn it!”- Bakugo commended, starting to run to the rocks. As they came closer, they realized the piles were almost 10 meters tall, making sinister paths in the dark that reminded them of a labyrinth. They started going deeper between the rocks, becoming one with the darkness. But it was not enough, if the girls shed just a little light inside, they will discover them without breaking a sweat. They started going even deeper. The stones started to pile up more, making them to start climbing, they were not sure where they were going ,but that didn’t matter, because the first trace of their hunter appeared. Some of them ducked down, some of them squeezed next to the wall of rocks barely keeping their balance because the stones were slippery.

“Megan, I am not going in there! Stop pretending you saw someone going in!”

“Shut up Darla, you were the one finding the fire, someone was there, and this is the only place they could be hiding!”

“Maybe they went into the water. “

“No, it must be here, follow me.”

The voices were closer, as the guys tried to go deeper between the rocks without a sound. They started to crawl up. Y/N followed last, trying to keep up, but holding on to the slippery rocks and the small cracks between them was more than hard. She was almost naked, so she was sliding down a little because of her bare skin, while the boys had flip flops and long boxers so the material made some extra adhesion on the surface. She could hear the steps of the girls, they were so close, if they cast just a little more light above, they could see her legs. In panic, she tried to quickly speed up. That was a mistake. Her foot slipped on the wet surface, making her loose complete balance, staring sliding down. Suddenly , she felt like she was flying. Like she weighed nothing at all, and was floating in the air going up. It lasted for a moment. She felt a sudden rush of warmth around her whole body. She was curled up, as Bakugo was covering her whole body with his arms. The space was so small, they were glued to each other. She heard his heart beating fast, as his chest was on her shoulder, his thighs intertwined with hers, his palm holding her hips tight, pushing her on him even more. With the other hand he was barely holding on the stone above them, trying to keep them in place. His cheek was on hers, he could feel the cotton touch of his skin. She didn’t even notice how close his lips were until he whispered.

“You better stay still..”- he growled furiously under his breath.

As he spoke, his lips almost touched hers. She felt dizzy once again, as her heart could not take this, pounding so fast he could almost feel it on her entire body. She tried to calm, trying to breathe deeply, but she didn’t notice her breathing became too loud. Before she could stop it, his fingertips were on her jawbone, pushing her head on his neck, under his jaw. He knew she was scared, and she wanted to cover her hard breathing. His mouth was now literally on her ear.

“I said, stay fucking still.” – she could feel his words in her bones. She expected an explosion of emotions once more, but she gave her all to listen to his words, because she knew what will happen if the teens catch up to them. Her mind started working like crazy, with scary thoughts. For the love of Christ, she is almost naked, with them all. The only clothes she has, belongs to them too. If the teens see this, they are done. She felt more fear then before, not wanting to know how much would they suffer if this happens. There was no time, the damn girls were just below them, discussing will they or not climb just a little more. She decided not to risk it.

“Let me go.”- she said in a serious low voice. She could feel the shocked expression Bakugo made, she didn’t have to see it to know he was confused.

“Are you retarded? They will see you! Just sta…”

“Yes, they will see ME.”- she said pushing his hands off her, wiggling herself from his grip. She lost balance, and now was sliding down on the rocks. The cracks and the little sharp parts scratched her bare legs. The slide was quick and painful. She reached the bottom in a few seconds, landing a few meters from the teens.

“OH MY GOD!WHAT IS THAT????!”- all of them screamed in the same time, pointing their phones on her.

“What the fuck, that’s a girl! We did all of this for a girl?”- Darla said angrily.

Y/N stood up. Her legs were bleeding a little and her whole body ached, but she faced the stupid kids with a serious face not showing no pain.

“What the fuck do you want? Can a girl have sex with her damn boyfriend in peace??”- she screamed so loud the echo from the stones was so loud the teens covered their ears. One tried to respond in a bitchy matter, but Y/N was furious, eating her bitch voice with hers.

“What?? You stupid kids want to see a dick? Is that it? Want to see some action? Post a little something on you damn instagram!??!? Well no problem. Charlie, come down!!Flash this idiot kids!”-she started yelling and looking up the stones.

“What?! We don’t want to see you and your stupid boyfriend ! We thought that..!”

“Charlie hurry, the little bitches are hungry for some big ass dick!”-she continued, ignoring the bitches. Suddenly, something was heard from the dark above. Movement , as someone was climbing down. Y/N swallowed, praying the guys will not actually come down. Thankfully, the movement was enough for the teens to become paranoid.

“EWWW, you are disgusting !! I don’t want to see some old dick!! Let’s go!”- they were beginning to leave. Y/N felt a sudden relief, as she watched the girls go straight out .

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

One Foot In (3/7)

The facts were these.

Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.

Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.

And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.

—–

Rating: Teen, but eventually they’re going to kiss Word Count: 9.3K this chapter. Again. AN: I continue to have a lot of thoughts and feelings about all the thoughts and feelings you guys have about this mess of words. Thanks for being lovely. We get to that eventually this chapter. Also, happy hockey day internet. Yesterday obviously didn’t count because the Rangers don’t play until tonight.

@shireness-says @optomisticgirl @nikkiemms, @teamhook, @dayo488, @greymeetsblue, @jennjenn615, @heavenlyjoycastle, @klynn-stormz, @superchocovian, @onepunintendid, @jonesfandomfanatic, @lfh1226-linda

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

—–

Emma Swan is twenty-nine years, six months, twenty-three days and, approximately, eight and half hours old when she wakes up to an empty apartment.

This, normally, would not be cause for distress, but Emma is less than twenty-four hours removed from making sure Killian Jones wasn’t buried in the same cemetery she once kissed him in and they probably should have discussed the rules more.

Like the never leave her apartment rules.

Because everyone thought he was dead rules.

Emma exhales, a breath of air she didn’t realize she was holding onto until she suddenly realizes how much she desperately needs it and it cannot be healthy for her vision to keep fading in and out like that. She assumes it’s a symptom of something. Possibly insanity.

She feels a little insane.

And questionably well rested.

Because for someone who broke most of the most fundamental rules of the universe the day before, Emma didn’t wake up once all night.

She refuses to acknowledge that that is probably a sign too.

“Ok, get a grip, Swan,” she mumbles, mostly to herself because she is, in fact, the only person in that apartment. “He can’t have gone that far.”

Pushing out of the pile of blankets tangled between her legs, she glances around her admittedly small living room and the smile on her face feels equal parts unnatural, incredulous and a little overwhelmed. And kind of charmed.

The blankets on the other side of the room are all folded – sharp corners and folds that are, very likely, Naval grade and the clothes he’d slept in are next to them, looking as if they’ve just been dropped off by the world’s most effective dry cleaners.

This, however, does not give Emma any sense of where the hell Killian has actually gone and she can’t keep talking to herself. That’s a line she refuses to cross and a rabbit hole she refuses to go down and she jogs into the kitchen before she realizes that’s where she’s decided to go next.

The plates are still in the sink, not much looking out of place, but Emma has been spending most of her free time with Ruby for years now and she’s got an eye for these things or something that would definitely make Ruby laugh and there’s a peace of paper folded on top of the coffee maker.

His handwriting is different than it was when he was a kid, not quite as lopsided as it was when he got points taken off a spelling test for illegibility that required Liam to meet with the teacher. It’s blunter now, like he’s trying to work out all his emotions about the entire state of the world in a few letters on a piece of paper that Emma can’t even begin to imagine he found easily.

You didn’t have any coffee left. You’re an awful hostess.

Her hand doesn’t shake when she reads it, a moral victory she’ll probably hold onto for the rest of the day, and her smile still feels incredibly out of place.

Because Killian is not in her apartment.

Or dead.

That’s probably the most important part of the whole thing.

Emma genuinely has no idea what sound she makes in response to that. It’s not a laugh, she’s teetering far too close to those metaphorical precipices to actually find much humor in the situation, but it’s not actually a scoff or a groan either. It’s a weird mixture of all three, a sound that actually manages to hurt her throat on the way out before lingering in the air and pressing down on every side of her skull and he’s right; she doesn’t have any coffee.

She was going to go to the store last night.

She got a little sidetracked.

God, now she wants a cheeseburger too.

And Emma is disappointed she didn’t realize exactly where a very-much alive Killian Jones went as soon as she woke up. Because, once, when she was seven and he was eight – only a few days after his birthday and he’d been bragging about being older and wiser and several other things that made Emma kick at his ankles – he’d decided he wanted to know what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street.

And the only way to figure out what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street was to lift it up, climb. down and start exploring. Immediately. He’d ignored most of Emma’s protests, smiling and nodding like she was making any progress in the argument, and eventually she’d run out of fight and gotten a flashlight out of the hallway closet.

They didn’t find much of anything, just managed to ruin both of their shoes and Ingrid resolutely refused to give them pie for three straight days because they had to throw away their clothes when she couldn’t get the smell out and—

“He went back downstairs,” Emma sighs, shaking her head in something close to disbelief.

She doesn’t time herself, but she assumes that she gets ready in record time – only a few minutes and a few droplets of water thrown at her face, not even bothering to brush her hair before tugging it up while jogging down the stairs to her own restaurant. Emma put the note in the back pocket of her jeans.

Killian doesn’t immediately look up when Emma walks in, skidding across the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor, but she can see his lips quirk slightly and, if put under oath, she would swear his eyes get brighter.

That is a scientific impossibility, Emma is sure. She’s also not entirely convinced they’re dealing with normal science.

She doesn’t know what category magic fingers fall under.

He’s half leaning on the counter, arms crossed lightly over the button-up he was wearing the day before and feet crossed at the ankles, a mug of what is, presumably, coffee in his right hand. There’s no tie, which is probably for the best because Emma isn’t sure she’d be able to handle that.

And he’s not alone.

“Hey, Em,” Graham says brightly, and Emma is glad she’s not holding anything. She would drop it. Killian’s tongue moves into the corner of his mouth.

Emma needs to study science more because it feels as if the blood actually falls out of her face, vision doing that thing again and she’d just like some kind of confirmation if that’s even possible.

Killian doesn’t move, although his eyes do narrow, a hint of a concern shifting into the space between him and Emma. There is not much space between him and Emma.

“So, uh...I met your friend,” Graham continues, eyes doing an admirable job of looking like they’re bouncing around a pinball machine. “Didn’t really know you had friends.”

Killian snorts into his coffee, and Emma is torn between scandalized and...mostly scandalized.

“I have friends,” Emma sputters. Graham does not look convinced. “Are you not my friend?” “I am your employee.” “Ok, well...yes, that’s technically true, but—” “—Do you want to share friendship bracelets, Em? Is that what you’re telling me?” “There’s no need to be a jerk about this.” “What about those little heart pendants? Where we each have half? Or is that too retro for us? We’re some kind of proper millennial relationship, right?” Emma scowls – an expression that is starting to become her default setting, and Killian is suspiciously silent. Until he isn’t.

“We had matching temporary tattoos one summer,” he says softly, and Graham nearly falls over. He doesn’t actually, which makes it eight-hundred thousand times worse, and Emma briefly considers drinking the coffee straight out of the pot.

She assumes burning her tongue beyond recognition will, somehow, ground her.

“That so?” Graham asks, voice going gruff and disbelieving. “What summer was this? Recently?” “Do you honestly think I am the kind of person who has had a temporary tattoo in recent history?” Emma mutters. Graham shrugs.

“I have a sudden and very strong suspicion I don’t know much about you at all, boss. It’s not for lack of trying, but…” He trails off in a way that makes Emma’s stomach twist uncomfortably, an allusion to almosts and possibilities that were never really either because Emma doesn’t like those words and she’s much better on her own.

It’s safer that way. Less connection, means less possibility for getting hurt. Or something.

She can’t really remember the reason for anything anymore, particularly when she can feel Killian’s eyes boring a hole in the side of her head and her pulse has only recently recovered from finding her apartment as empty as it normally is.

“If memory serves, Swan was eight,” Killian says, still speaking mostly into his coffee cup. “She’d gotten a rather disappointing mark in third-grade science.” Graham’s shoulders shake when he chuckles. “What kind of science is third grade science?” “The most basic science possible.” “That’s a complete and total lie,” Emma argues. “That was...there was that frog thing involved and I—” “—Resolutely refused to do the assignment,” Killian finishes. “Did you also get detention?” Emma nods, not as stunned as she probably should be that he remembers this so well. Although, he’d also gotten detention with her because if Swan isn’t going to dissect the frog, then I’m not either. “Ingrid was furious,” Emma says. “She said we were challenging authority and couldn’t I have just done what I was supposed to do for once in my life.” “I always thought that was a little heavy-handed. What did the frog ever do to you that it deserved to get cut up like that?” “Died, apparently.” Killian hums, the conversation drifting dangerously close to topics they absolutely cannot discuss in front of Graham. “That was awfully rude of him to do that.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure the frog would agree with that, though.” They stare at each other for a moment – metaphors and metaphorical dances of the conversational variety and Graham coughs pointedly when they don’t do anything else. “Anyway,” Killian says, a forced brightness to the word that makes Emma’s jaw clench. “Swan refused to cut apart the frog, Ingrid was very upset about it, as was the teacher, God, what was her name?” “Ms. Feinberg,” Emma answers. Honestly, Graham does not appear to be breathing at this point.

“That’s right. That’s right. She wore that ridiculous fur coat in the winter and—” “—We thought she could control the animals with her voice. Some kind of ridiculous magical thing that made a lot of sense when I was eight.” “Does it not make sense now?” Emma shrugs, not sure how she manages to stay upright when it feels as if the floor shakes under her feet. “How’d you get coffee?” “I’m absolutely incredible in unfamiliar situations,” Killian grins. He leans forward as he says it, another test of fate that Emma can’t voice and he knows she can’t voice and she’s going to have to give Graham an entire week off for subjecting him to whatever this might be. It feels like flirting. Again. “Also your coffee maker does not require me to be a rocket scientist, love.” Graham sounds like he’s choking.

“You ok?” Emma asks as he continues to sputter on oxygen.

“Yup, yup, yup,” Graham nods brusquely. “I’m fine. Totally fine. So, uh...you two knew each other when you were younger then? What was Emma like when she was a kid? Aside from the weird science thing.”

“It’s not weird to refuse to dissect a frog,” Emma hisses. “I was a kid. I liked animals.” She wishes she could come up with another phrase then kill him because that feels a little insensitive and Emma clearly doesn’t want to kill Killian, but he keeps laughing and pouring more coffee. He twists around, opening a cabinet he shouldn’t know is there and offers Emma a mug.

“I don’t know how you take your coffee, Swan,” he says quietly.

Emma reaches out slowly, careful not to touch his fingers and it’s as weird as possible – gripping the mug from the top while Graham’s actual head snaps back and forth. “Cream and three and a half sugars,” she says. “If it’s not espresso.” “You don’t have an espresso machine?” “It’s not that kind of restaurant. Espresso is way too new wave.” “New wave,” Killian echoes, but there’s nothing even resembling teasing in any of the letters. He says them as if he’s chasing them and they’re both still holding the goddamn mug.

“Yeah. I’m not...great at change, really. Like. At all, you know.” He lets go of the mug.

She doesn’t drop it. So, points to her or whatever.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Graham says. He waves both his hand through the air, as if that will clear it or make any of this make sense and maybe Emma should just give him two weeks off. “I am...very confused. I thought you knew each other. You…” He glances at Killian, blinking quickly. “I don’t know your name.” “That’s because I never told you,” Killian says.

“And?” “And...what?” “Ok, you’re really not going to tell me your name? Are you...Em, what the hell is going on right now?”

Emma shakes her head, not sure where to begin or how to explain and Killian is pouring her coffee. As if that’s a normal thing that is allowed to happen and the urge to run is almost overpowering. That’s always been her thing – even when she was eight years old and refused to follow the rules of a science class that was almost too dependent on rules and a classroom that smelled like formaldehyde no matter what they happened to be studying that week.

Emma does not do conflict. She does disappearing acts, her own personal brand of magic that’s served her and her slightly patched-together heart very well for the last twenty years, but that same heart is really only patched together because it was forced to run away from the man in front of her who, once upon a time, wouldn’t let her get in trouble by herself.

So she doesn’t run.

She swallows instead, biting back words and explanations and the very real desire to just scream as loud as she’s capable of.

“You want to double check on the napkin dispensers?” Emma asks, not actually looking at Graham and that does admittedly feel like kind of a dick move.

“I’m sorry, what? Was that the answer to the question? Seriously who the fu—” “The napkin dispensers,” she cuts in sharply. Emma turns her whole body when she speaks, hopeful that her face betrays the regret she feels festering in the tips of her fingers. “Just...you know make sure that they’re full.” “Are we expecting some kind of mad pie rush today?” “God, I hope not. Also, why are you here early?” Graham’s expression shifts – tremulous and clearly concerned about Emma’s immediate reaction to whatever he’s about to say. He glances Killian’s direction, but is only met with slightly interested eyebrows and a recently refilled coffee mug.

“You heard her,” Killian mutters. It’s not quite a threat, although Emma can’t stop the shiver that drifts down her spine and lingers in between her hips, a flash of cold that makes her wonder if they’ve suddenly time traveled to the middle of December.

He hops onto the edge of the counter when Graham’s mouth drops slightly, eyebrows still as high as ever and hackles almost visibly raised.

Emma has no idea what hackles even are.

“Hey,” she says, waving a dismissive hand as close as she can get to Killian without ensuring disaster. “What…” Emma trails off when she realizes she can’t formulate that question either, another head shake that makes her neck ache. “Alright,” she continues. “I want a straight answer Humbert. What are you doing here so early?”

Graham shuffles on his feet again. “Ruby called me. Late last night. Which, honestly I thought you were dead, but she promised you weren’t, just that you might be and—” “—I’m sorry, I might be?” “Emma, if you keep interrupting me, I’m never going to finish the story and I’ve got a jam-packed schedule of refilling napkin containers.” “Are they that empty?” “Emma!” "Fine, fine,” she grumbles, shooting a glare Killian’s direction when he dares to laugh at what may be her very real mental breakdown.

“I didn’t say a word, Swan,” he grins.

Graham coughs again, but it also sounds a bit like a groan and three weeks of vacation seems almost exorbitant. “Ruby called me,” he repeats. “Was certain there was something going on with you and that you were acting shady after you guys left here yesterday morning. She said she’d been doing some research and some names had come up and—” “—Wait, what kind of names?” Emma interrupts. Graham throws a strawberry out of the closest bowl at it, the fruit bouncing off her left hand and landing at her feet – rotten, again.

Killian slides off the counter.

“Do you mind giving us a couple of minutes?” he asks, stepping in front of Emma like he’ll be able to block her from the threat of the one waiter she employees. She has to dig her nails into her palms to resist touching him again, those ridiculous and inconvenient magnets proving particularly problematic once more.

She doesn’t hear whatever Graham says in response, is far too busy trying to figure out what the buzzing in the back of her head is. It sounds a bit like flies, or maybe a little more like bees, a hum and a sound that isn’t quite distracting, but feels a little powerful.

The noise grows the longer she stays in one place, as if it’s getting stronger or more intense, knocking at the edges of Emma’s consciousness. It feels a bit like a memory she forgot, but is desperate to remember and that doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s déjà vu, a familiarity and a reminder and it almost feels warm, like it’s wrapping its way around her shoulders and holding her tight and Emma doesn’t think it’s a threat.

She’s got no idea what the hell it is, but she doesn’t think it’s trying to hurt her.

It might be trying to help her.

Or remind her.

And she nearly jumps out of her skin when Killian tugs on the side of her shirt.

“Holy shit,” Emma growls, stumbling backwards. “What the hell were you thinking?” “You’re going to have to be more specific, Swan.” “What time did you get down here?” He shrugs, an air of nonchalance that’s far more frustrating with the noise that’s starting to ebb in between her ears. “Not long before you got here.” “Was Graham down here?” “No, he showed up in the middle of my quest for coffee. He’s fairly desperately in love with you, you know.” Emma blinks. “Ah, shut up,” she says before she can come up with a better retort and, that time, Killian’s answering laugh is almost warranted.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” “Yes. You can’t...you can’t do, like, any of the things you have done in the last hour.” “I wasn’t aware of the rules.” “Well there are rules,” Emma snaps, and she knows it’s not his fault. He was dead yesterday. And now he’s not and that’s got to be messing with his head, no matter what he tells her. Even if he keeps staring at her that very particular way, as if she’s some kind of magical being descended from on high to...do something. Emma isn’t sure what yet.

Killian moves back towards the counter, grabbing the strawberries along the way. The whole thing is ridiculous. “And they are?” “You can’t come down here. Not...not without telling me or when Graham is down here and—” “—And just who exactly is Graham, Swan? He seemed quite interested in figuring out who I am.” “Because you aren’t supposed to be in the kitchen!”

“No, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s because he’s hopelessly, inextricably head over heels in love with you and he made several different assumptions as soon as he saw me. Do you not often have men in your kitchen, love?” “That’s not even clever.” “And that’s a very pointed attempt at not answering the question.”

Emma huffs, crossing her arms, but that only serves to twist up her shirt and Killian’s eyes dart towards the suddenly obvious patch of skin above her right hip bone. “No,” she mutters. “That’s not...this has never happened before.” Killian eats another strawberry.

“And Graham, he doesn’t...he’s not a partner in your side endeavors?” Emma shakes her head. “He knows that sometimes I take elongated breaks that usually require Ruby to arrive, but other than that, no. He’s got no idea. No one does.” “Why not?” “Why not?” Emma balks, voice rising of its own accord. Killian’s face doesn’t shift, but she can see his tongue press on the inside of his cheek and that might be one of his tells. “No one can know that,” she presses. “It’s...that’s way more power than anyone should have. Life and death and—death.” “You said that twice,” Killian points out. His own voice drops, like it’s trying to balance out Emma’s near-shriek and she probably shouldn’t be taking comfort from it, but she can still dimly make out the buzzing in the back of her brain.

“I left Storybrooke and I got shipped around the country. I bounced around from group home to foster homes and houses and no one was ever even remotely interested in actually adopting me. One family tried to use me as a tax break, but that was as close as I got and it was never...it was never Ingrid. It was never you.”

She has to take a deep breath to stop herself from crying and Emma isn’t sure how the words keep coming, but Killian Jones is in her kitchen and everything seems to fall out of her without much concern about her set of rules.

“There was never anyone,” Emma continues. “So I learned to keep to myself and figure things out on my own and it’s better that way, don’t you think? No chance of making a mistake or doing something wrong and I’ve managed to rationalize the whole thing with Ruby.” “Justice being served, huh?” Killian asks knowingly.

“Yeah, exactly that.” “I can’t just stay in your apartment forever, love.” The endearment switch catches her off guard, a trend that Emma should really start expecting at this point. Nothing seems like it’s on even ground anymore.

“People know you’re dead,” Emma argues. “There were news reports and, well, you heard it. Your name was there and there were graphics and—”

“—All of that seems a little tacky, don’t you think?” “I’m not here to debate the merits of journalism with you.” “Then what are you going to do, Swan? Because I’m not going to stay cooped up forever. I can’t. I did that for a very long time and I won’t—”

“I told you,” Graham announces, turning towards the wide-open door of the restaurant where a fuming Ruby appears to be doing her best impression of carved marble. “Doesn’t he look just like that dead guy on the news?”

Emma drops the coffee mug in her hand.

“He looks exactly like that dead guy on the news,” Ruby seethes. She stands in the doorway for a few more moments, likely considering where to dump Emma’s body when she inevitably kills her, but then the clack of her heels moving towards the kitchen sounds impossibly loud and Emma regrets not getting dental insurance.

She’s got a feeling she’ll need it sooner rather than later.

“That’s super weird,” Graham continues, stuffing a handful of napkins into the container at table six. “Didn’t he die under suspicious circumstances?” “They don’t know,” Emma bites out. She chances a glance at Killian who, it seems, has also frozen, fingers wrapped around another strawberry.

Ruby’s laugh is distinctly lacking any humor. “Or so the reports go.” “I heard some rumors there was some shady stuff involved,” Graham says. Emma’s head is going to fly off her neck. That would be for the best – then she could ignore the whole situation entirely.

“What kind of shady stuff?” Graham shrugs, dropping the container back onto the table and every noise sounds magnified. Emma has to glance down to make sure there aren’t sparks shooting out of her fingers. There are not. That’s almost disappointing.

“Well they didn’t find anyone else there, did they?” Graham asks. “At the scene, I mean? Usually there’d at least be a suspect or something.” “Maybe you should be the PI,” Ruby drawls.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hysterical, Lucas. I’m just saying. There should be DNA or something right? And they said he lost his hand. But...no hand at the crime scene.” “What?” Killian snaps, looking only slightly affronted when Ruby glares at him. “Where did it go?”

“Do you think I’m aware of dead peoples missing limbs?” Graham asks.

Emma’s never had an actual heart attack, so she can’t be entirely certain of what the symptoms are or what it actually feels like, but she assumes it sort of feels like this. Her arms feel too heavy for her body, hands like weights dragging her into the kitchen floor. Bobbing on her feet, she tries to dispel the extra energy she’s suddenly flush with and that can’t possibly be medicinal.

No one notices at first – Ruby far too busy asking Graham where he’s getting his sources and Graham snarking back and it’s not a surprise when Emma feels Killian’s gaze move back towards her and her tiny vertical jump.

“Swan,” he starts, leaning forward. “What…” “Oh, no, no, no,” Ruby shouts. Her hair hits the side of her face when she shakes her head, eyes bordering on dangerous and possibly tinted as red as the highlights in her hair. “No, no, you did not call her that. Is that...Humbert, you need to get out of here.” Graham drops another napkin container. “What? I work here, Lucas.” “I don’t care.” “You are not my boss.” “Get out of here, Humbert!” He lifts his hands in frustration, clearly waiting for Emma to object, but her jaw is stuck mid-clench and there is something wrong here and a heart attack probably shouldn’t last this long. “Fine” Graham growls. “Fine. You guys want to play secret and not act like this is the first time Emma has acknowledged there are other human beings on this planet, that’s fine with me.”

He’s gone in a huff of napkins and knocked over chairs, the bell on the door ringing loudly as soon as he slams it behind him.

And for half a moment Emma is almost hopeful they won’t say anything else. They’ll just stand there until the end of time when the meteors come and dinosaurs return or however the world is going to end and she’ll be able to avoid this particular brand of conflict.

“Emma.” No such luck. Killian is still staring at her.

“So, guess we’ve got some things to talk about, huh?” Ruby asks, more forced calm that’s almost worse than screaming and shouting and throwing fruit.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” “The truth would just...blow my mind.” Emma sighs, closing her eyes and trying to come up with something that’s even remotely possible and everything sounds worse than the last lie. “I couldn’t,” she whispers, staring at her shoes. Her shoes are less judgmental than the other two people in the kitchen.

“He is kind of dreamy. I think it’s the hair. Or the earring.” Emma lifts her head – Ruby grinning knowingly at her because Ruby knows that other rule and they’ll have to deal with that eventually. Preferably when Killian isn’t within hearing distance.

“I think my uncles thought it was a joke,” Killian murmurs, tugging lightly on the jewelry and the wisps of hair that curl just behind his ear. “I looked this morning. Just to make sure I wasn’t taking on any zombie-like characteristics.” “You’re not a zombie,” Emma groans. He grins at her.

“No harm in double checking. But I noticed the earring and that’s definitely Nemo’s, so...in the grand scheme I suppose it’s nice.” “Who’s Nemo?” Ruby asks, grabbing a pie off the counter and two forks. She hands one to Killian. And they’re all taking this surprisingly well.

Emma may be the only one who isn’t.

“The aforementioned uncle,” Killian says. “This one is good too, Swan.” “All Emma’s pies are good.” “Are you two bonding right now?” Emma demands. “Because that’s...Ruby are you not furious?” Ruby nods, tugging the fork out of her mouth slowly. “Oh I’m super pissed at you, but you’re currently exercising three of the five tells, so I figure you’re doing a really great job of beating yourself up already. Also I’ve got some news and, like, eighty-thousand questions.” “Only eighty-thousand?” Killian asks.

“At least. Don’t try and play cute with me though, Jones. I’ve got some very strong suspicions about you.” “Such as?” “You weren’t as naive about the situation as you told your girlfriend.”

Killian’s grip on the fork noticeably tightens and Emma should really clean up the puddle of coffee at her foot. It’s starting to seep into her sneaker. Maybe she should buy new sneakers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and Emma’s breath catches because she’s incredibly familiar with that particular tone. It’s the same exact tone it was when he was seven and trying to convince Liam he’d only had one slice of pie at Ingrid’s.

And the tips of his ears go red.

Ruby shakes her head. “Incorrect. And as much as I hate to admit Humbert is ever right about anything, he does bring up a good point about your hand. What do you remember about that?” “Not much,” Killian lies.

“Nope, try again.” His eyes dart towards Emma’s, tongue flashing between his lips and it’s as if they’re standing on a tightrope above several dozen crocodiles or alligators, whichever are more dangerous, and there’s probably rain involved too. Just to make everything as slippery as possible.

“You said you’d already done the cooped up forever thing,” Emma whispers. “And you wouldn’t do it again. What did that mean?” “You ran and I stayed put, Swan.” “English, Jones.” The twist of his answering smile is enough to make Emma’s heart stutter against her rib cage. He tugs the pie plate out of Ruby’s hands, taking another exaggerated bite – eyes never leaving Emma. “Seriously, you should be winning awards for this,” he mutters. “And I didn’t actually lie to you before. I have no idea who actually killed me.” “But?” “But,” he repeats. “I’m not exactly the kid you remember.” “Who are you then?” Killian inhales, only to exhale even sharper and—”It’d really be much easier if I could hold your hand.” Ruby gags. “That’s not a line,” he promises. “That’s...it was always easier that way.” “Start at the beginning,” Ruby commands. He salutes again.

“My brother died when I was ten years old and it changed my entire life,” Killian explains. “For awhile I thought it ruined my entire life because it meant Emma was gone and, you know no one ever moved into your house, Swan?” She shakes her head, not sure what the right response to that is, but some twisted part of her is almost glad. “They didn’t,” Killian continues. “It was just there, forever, taunting me of what was gone and what wasn’t ever actually coming back. And, well, Shakespeare and Nemo were used to being on the road, but the acting troupe they’d be in for the decade before they got saddled with me...it was on its last legs. There’s no money in it and they sort of stumbled into guardianship without much prep or guidance and they didn’t...they sat in that house and they’d both seen so much already.

“You know Nemo’s ship was attacked once, that was part of the reason he wanted to avoid the bars on that port leave when he met Shakespeare and they’ve both dealt with so much shit from the world. They weren’t really….they weren’t really interested in the world anymore.” “But I bet you were, weren’t you?” Ruby asks, tugging on the plate again.

“Not at first. Well, no that’s a lie. I was a shit kid as soon as Swan was gone, always getting in trouble and blowing off class and I think I tried to run away no less than sixteen times before I actually turned sixteen.” “How would you get out of town?” Emma asks, hating how soft her question sounded.

Killian smirks “I never made it very far. You know Storybrooke, love, eyes everywhere and people gossiping even more. I think Cora Mills caught me trying to sneak out of my house even more than my uncles did.” “Oh she always gave me the creeps.” “You’re going to want to remember that in a second.” “Can you please put a pause on the flirting for, like, point two seconds so we can get on with the story?” Ruby groans. “Time, as they say, is a-slipping.” “You’re not very patient are you?” “It’s a family trait,” Emma mumbles. “You should meet her grandmother.” “Hey,” Ruby cries. “My grandmother taught me every PI trick I know. She’s the reason we’re going to find Jones’ killer and collect both rewards.”

Emma tenses. “Both rewards?” “Yeah, now you’re interested, aren’t you? Keep going Jones. This is almost interesting backstory.” “Almost interesting,” Killian chuckles, and they really should have each gotten their own pie. “Alright, alright. So Cora Mills—the mayor of Storybrooke,” he adds at Ruby’s questioning expression. “She’s been mayor since the dawn of time really, and she’s known I’ve been trying to get out Storybrooke for years, but I never did.” “Why not?” Emma asks, Killian’s hum of confusion feeling as if it lands between each one of her ribs. “I mean...couldn’t you?” “Eh, I’m sure I could have if I put my mind to it. But at some point around high school graduation, which was never entirely a guarantee for me, I realized that Nemo and Shakespeare were done with the world. They were tired of fighting it and tired of trying to find their place in it and—” “—You couldn't leave,” Ruby finishes, a note of sympathy in her voice that stuns Emma more than just about anything else that’s happened.

Killian hums again. The disappointment and regret in the sound is bitter on Emma’s tongue, and maybe she should be taking some adult-ed science classes because she’s clearly got no idea how any of this works, but she’s never seen that look on his face before.

As if the whole world has passed him by and left him in the metaphorical dust.

“They’d given up their whole lives for me,” he mumbles. “And we were good. For a very long time. I...well, I figured out how to make money and I had books.” “Books?” Emma repeats. “You had books?” “I like to read.” “Are you a nerd now?” “I wouldn't go that far. It’s a...hobby, possibly some kind of obsession depending on who you ask. Don't ask my uncles.”

“I promise.”

He smiles at her again – slow and genuine until that replaces the whatever in between Emma’s ribs and she feels as if she breathes normally for the first time since she woke up. Ruby sticks her entire tongue out.

There are berry stains on it.

“Is this going to be a thing now?” she shouts. “The flirting? Are we going to flirt our way through several different crime scenes?” Emma tilts her head. “Are there more than one crime scene?” “There might be if Jones doesn’t get better at telling us his goddamn life story. Also, the less sarcastic answer is maybe because I’ve got news, but seriously the life story. If you were good with the shut-ins, why did you leave?” Killian doesn’t answer immediately, and the tension in between his shoulder blades is almost too obvious. Emma isn’t sure she hears him at first. And then she’s not sure she wants to.

“Nemo got sick,” he says. “Suddenly and...badly? Is that the right word? It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t great and so I was trying to figure out a way to get some money and an opportunity presented itself.” “How?” “Remember creepy Cora Mills?” Emma hates that her jaw drops, but she can’t stop it and she knows this is not a good story. She didn’t expect it to be a good story and it is, somehow, even worse. “What could she possibly offer you?” “Money,” Killian shrugs. “And the chance to get out of Storybrooke, which given the situation paints me in a particularly asshole-light, but that’s always been kind of my MO too and—” “That’s not true.” “You haven’t known me for a very long time, Swan.” “I don’t believe that.” Melting certainly isn’t the right word for whatever happens to Killian’s expression. Emma doesn’t care. It’s the first word her mind comes up with and latches onto, in some misplaced effort to maintain control of a decidedly out of control situation, and she wishes she could hold his hand.

Too. Or still.

Or always.

Honestly, whatever.

“Thanks,” Killian mutters. “I promise it’s warranted in this situation. I was getting desperate. I never went to college and I couldn't figure out what to do or who to ask.” “No girlfriend to help, then?” Ruby asks archly, ignoring whatever noise Emma makes at that particular question. “What? First of all, that’s a genuine question. Because if there is a girlfriend, then we should probably prepare ourselves for her arrival in defense of Jones’ previously discussed very dreamy face and, second of all, if there is a girlfriend, she probably should have helped him rob a bank or something.” “Are we advocating bank robbing now?” Emma fumes, her anger having nothing to do with the sanctity of the American banking system.

“No girlfriend,” Killian says. Emma wrings her hands together. So, naturally, Ruby notices. “Anyway, Cora found me one day and told me she had an opportunity if I was interested.” “And were you?”

“I didn’t see any other option, really. It made sense when she explained it. I had to get on the ship and—” “—Wait, wait, there was a ship involved?” Ruby asks.

“Yeah, a cruise. To uh...shit, where was it to?” “We weren’t on the ship.” “That wasn’t the important part that’s why,” Killian mutters. “It was Tahiti or something. But I was told that I wasn’t supposed to do any of the onshore stuff they do. You know, zip lining and...swimming with sharks or whatever.” “The thought of that always freaked me out,” Ruby muses.

“Yeah, me too actually. They say it’s safe, but—” “Can we focus, please?” Emma exclaims, met with two wide-eyed expressions for that especially emotional outburst. “Sorry, sorry, just...what were you supposed to be doing on this boat? Oh my God, are you some kind of drug mule?” Killian makes a face, ridiculous enough that Emma has to dig her heels into the ground to make sure she doesn’t try to do something absurd like kiss it off. The rules of the universe can suck it, honestly.

“Are you kidding me?” “You’re the one who said I didn’t know you anymore!” “I was not a drug mule,” Killian sighs, dropping his fork so he can run his fingers through his hair. ��I was...a water mule.” “What does that mean?” “Cora said that once we got to the island, there’d be some people getting on the ship who had something for me. I was supposed to bring it back.” “Did you meet these people?” Ruby asks, business-like and Emma knows she wishes she had a notepad of some kind. She pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket.

“Yeah, that was kind of the problem.” “How so?”

Killian doesn’t shudder, but it’s awfully close, a nervousness to him that doesn’t match up with anything Emma knows about him. “There was a whole group of them. Each one of them shadier than the next and they all spoke in grunts, I swear.” “Sounds like lackeys.” “Yeah, probably. They didn’t know anything about Cora though, so the orders were coming from higher up and that’s kind of when I realized I’d gotten into something I wasn’t particularly interested in.” “What do you think that was?” “I don’t know exactly,” Killian admits. “But one of the goons handed me a vial of something that was, maybe, filled with water, demanded my immediate and complete silence and told me his boss was expecting me when I got back to New York.” “New York?” Emma asks. “That’s where the ship left from. I asked this guy what exactly it was I was supposed to be moving and how I was supposed to get it through security.” “I’m sure he didn’t appreciate that,” Ruby chuckles.

“He did not, actually. He told me to shut my mouth and do my job and that, this is where it gets weird, his master wouldn’t be pleased if I deviated from the schedule.” Ruby’s eyebrows pull low. “He switched from boss to master?” “Weird, right?” “Super weird. And incredibly creepy. So what did you do after that?” “I told him that I thought there was a mistake,” Killian says with a laugh that sounds full of a slightly different brand of regret. “And that I wasn’t interested in shipping whatever product they were trying to move. I don’t remember much after that, but I do remember the vial falling and breaking. Goons one through six were not very happy about that. There was a lot of moanful grunting about it.” “There were six of them?” Emma breathes, not nearly as confident as she’d like to be. She rocks backwards on her heels when Killian slides off the counter, ignoring whatever Ruby is doing with all of her limbs as she steps into her space.

There haven’t been very many moments in Emma’s life that stick. She’s made sure of it, run from the thoughts and the feelings and the relationships for years. This moment, however, seems determined to linger and fester and that second word is absolutely wrong.

It doesn’t fester. It grows – the buzzing returning until it sounds like someone’s turned the metaphorical volume up as high as it will go on Emma’s life and soul and, possibly, the magic she’s done her best not to acknowledge for the last twenty years.

None of that, however, holds a candle to whatever look settles on Killian’s face. It’s not quite understanding – there’s still that pesky rule hanging over their heads and she’ll tell him the truth at some point, eventually, she will – but for right now, this moment, she wants to memorize every shift of his face, the twitch of his lips and the turn of his eyebrows, hair falling almost artfully across his forehead when he tilts his head slightly.

He doesn’t look scared of her. And, really, that’s what makes all the difference because Emma’s been a little scared of what she can do and terrified of what everyone else will do if they find out about her, but Killian just takes another step towards her and smiles as if everything is normal or could be normal and—

“I’m fine, love,” he promises. “I’m very good at surviving.” Ruby scoffs. The moment ends – with Killian’s hand hovering just a breath away from Emma’s side. “Right, right,” Ruby mumbles. “Sure you are. That’s all very well and good and everything, but you’ve thrown a very large wrench into a case that already makes a negative amount of sense. Plus, you know...you’re supposed to be dead.” “I think we’ve covered that several times, Rubes” Emma mutters.

“And I don’t think Jones died in Storybrooke.” Emma is very glad they’re not open until ten. Ruby’s proclamation rings out in the empty restaurant, bouncing off walls and tables and half-filled napkin containers. It hangs there, taunting and teasing and it can’t possibly be true.

It can’t possibly be...not true.

“I think you died on that boat, Jones,” Ruby adds, rolling her eyes when Killian mutters the technical term is ship under his breath. “And I really don’t care about that. But I think the goons killed you then and there and moved you to Storybrooke because you were some kind of very dreamy recluse who, if we’re keeping up appearances, should be dead in your hometown.” “But then why is Cora the one with the reward money?” Emma counters. “She’s the one who set this whole thing up.” “Unless she doesn’t really know who she was working for. Or she didn’t expect Jones to show up dead. Or she’s a little nervous about her own safety because Jones did show up dead. There’s plenty of reasons. All of which I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to answer when we go pay her a visit.” Emma does her best to form actual words. She does. It does not end well. And Ruby snickers at her. “Five figures, Em,” she says, pausing between each word to really drive her point home. “And whatever the uncles have offered now.” Killian jerks his arm back to his side. “They did what?” “Oh yeah, it’s not as much as Madam Mayor, but it’s a good amount and I think they’ve got some suspicions about you and your little jaunt to the...what water is Tahiti in? That doesn't matter. What does matter is that there’s more money being floated around and that means that more eyes are going to be on this and it’s in our best interest to figure it out.” “Don't you think that’s dangerous?” Emma asks, fighting the itch to start mixing something.

“Oh, I think it’s incredibly dangerous. Except we’ve got a living, breathing dead person in this kitchen who’s involved in some kind of shady something and those same shady somethings will probably be very interested in him being alive. So solving Killian Jones’ murder seems to be our only option at this point.” Killian smiles at Emma – as if he’s won a competition they absolutely were not staging. She groans. “This is not a victory for you,” she hisses. “This is...how do you expect to just go outside? Graham knew who you were.” “He suspected,” Killian corrects. “And I’ll wear a hat. And sunglasses.” “Your ears look ridiculous in a hat.” “I hate to be that person, but I don’t think we should be all that worried about the fashion choices of the dead here,” Ruby says.

“And you’re very worried about your own fashion choices.” “Ok, that’s rude. I am worried about you. Incredibly so, in fact. Because we’ve got a good thing going here and I...well, I am worried about you. That’s the headline.” It’s not a particularly impassioned speech, but it may be the most emotional Ruby’s gotten since Emma ran into her perp in an alley. Her heart strings are, effectively, tugged. And the guilt in the pit of her stomach churns.

That’s less pleasant. “Fine,” Emma snaps, like she had any chance of convincing either one of them otherwise. “Fine. Let’s all solve a goddamn murder then. It’s not like I had pie to bake.” “Should be award-winning pie,” Killian adds. They’re definitely flirting. “And I’m serious about 30-30-40. Except from my uncles. That’s...there’s got to be a line, you know?” Ruby stops pouring the coffee Emma hadn’t realized she’d started pouring. “What exactly does that mean? Exactly?” “You said that twice.” “I’m going to get Emma to touch you.” “God, Rubes, that’s dark,” Emma grumbles. She’s run out of coffee.

“I think I should get the forty percent of the reward because I died,” Killian says, easy as well, pie. “And we’re not taking money from my uncles. Nemo’s still sick. There’s gotta be some kind of morality clause in your familial PI code, right?” Ruby considers that for a moment before bursting out into a laugh that is so loud Emma glances at the walls to make sure the paint hasn’t been chipped. She’s still doubled over nearly thirty seconds later, body shaking and tears in her eyes and it’s a little concerning, but also kind of nice because it sounds real and Killian is still standing far too close to Emma.

Like he can’t bring himself to move.

“Yeah, yeah, that does seem fair actually,” Ruby nods, laughter still clinging to her words. “It wasn’t in the original instruction manual, but I doubt Granny was really prepared for people coming back from the dead.” “Magic’s got a way of sneaking up on you like that.” “I guess it does. And I guess we’re going back to Storybrooke, huh?” Killian hums, a barely visible shift of his weight that’s really a dismissal without the words. Ruby almost looks impressed. “I’ll, uh...I’ll give you guys a second.”

Emma needs to take the bell off her door.

It’s far too loud, particularly when she can’t hear Killian breathing next to her. He turns on the spot, quick enough that Emma feels like she has to blink to make sure it’s really happening. It is. He’s still there.

Looking at her.

“Are you alright?” she asks, desperate to say something before he can. She’s a great, big, giant coward really.

Killian’s mouth quirks up again. “Still as fine as advertised. And you stole my question, actually.” “There’s not anything to be worried about.” “With you or the situation in general?” “Me. Always.” “That’s a decidedly depressing mindset, Swan. I’d very much like to worry about you, at least for the time being. And I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Emma startles at the certainty there, the distinct lack of blinking or confusion. He’s positive. And he’s right. She makes another absurd noise. “I don’t know anything about you,” she points out. “It’s...we’re in the middle of something here and I just, well—”

“Why is it a minute?”

“Why is what a minute?” “This whole magical side of you,” Killian says. “A minute seems incredibly arbitrary. It’s not a lot of time to do anything productive.” “You’d be surprised.”

He chuckles, tongue doing something incredibly unfair again. “You know I haven’t often been jealous of other people, but it seems to be a trend for me this morning.” “That’s ridiculous. Graham is not...we’re not like that.” “You may not be, Swan, but he certainly is. And I can’t say I blame him.” “That felt like flirting,” Emma accuses.

“It was absolutely flirting. Was that not obvious? That’s frustrating. I am, admittedly, out of practice though, so...” “That’s surprising actually.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Emma nods, taking a step back to try and maintain her sanity. It seems to be slipping through her fingers the longer they stay in that kitchen. “I’m kind of out of practice with the flirting thing too,” she admits. “But, yes, it was meant to be. And, again, there’s no reason to be jealous. I’m talking to dead people.” “And then dead’ing them again.” “Usually.” “Alright, so we’ll work on the flirting then,” Killian promises, and Emma resents whatever her pulse does at that. He certainly hears it. “But why the minute? Did you decide that?” “A minute is a very long time. Plus, the longer someone is alive who isn’t really supposed to be alive, the more likely something is going to go wrong and people get very preachy when they realize life and death is in the balance.”

“I’m still here though. You’ve avoided kissing me on multiple occasions.” “That’s what you're worried about?” “Not in the way you’re thinking. Well, partially in the way you’re thinking, but mostly in the way that you said you’ve never done this before, right?” Emma nods. “And you don’t have some boyfriend aside from the love-struck waiter.” A less enthusiastic nod. Killian’s smile widens. “So,” he continues, leaning around her to grab something she can’t possibly be bothered looking at. “My main question before we dive into the seedy underbelly of the world is...why me?” “I told you that already,” Emma whispers, and she is not emotionally prepared to deal with this many emotions this early in the morning. Or ever. She can’t believe she still has so many emotions about Killian Jones. She desperately wants to brush his hair away from his eyebrows.

“No, you did a rather horrible job of avoiding the question. So, I’ll ask you one more time, love, why didn’t you let me go?” Emma opens her mouth – certain I couldn’t will come spilling out of her, again and on loop, but she meets his gaze and it’s all too much and not enough. He’d know if she was lying anyway.

“I just thought it made more sense,” she says. “To have you there. I...I thought my life might be...better if you were in it. You know, again.” He’s infuriatingly quiet or a moment, gaze penetrating. That’s not altogether uncomfortable either. Emma doesn’t blink.

And, that, that, eventually seems like the turning point because it’s in that moment she realizes what exactly Killian is holding.

Saran wrap.

He moves quickly, leading with his head so as not to touch her with anything else. The saran wrap isn’t perfectly tight between his fingers, a strange balancing act with only five fingers, but Emma’s too stunned to worry about that for too long and then she’s too amazed to be stunned and she’s wanted to kiss him since she saw him.

Again.

She moves forward, the taste of plastic on her tongue when she presses her lips against his. Her arms twist behind her, determined not to give into the metaphorical magnets that feel as if they’re yanking on Emma and begging her to card her fingers through Killian’s hair.

She fists her hands, but she doesn’t pull away. Part of her is stunned, toying with fate and fire and the rules of the world, but the rest of Emma is screaming out in triumph, desperate to press her mouth closer to Killian’s, to breathe him in until he’s found his way back into the middle of everything.

It feels impossibly easy.

It always felt like that.

Emma makes a noise, almost a groan and possibly a sigh and she can feel Killian’s smile through the twisted up saran wrap. Their noses bump.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she mumbles, not moving her head away. His laugh times up with the buzzing in her ears.

“Consider it a well-executed science experiment.” “What would you have done if it didn’t work?” Killian shrugs. “I was pretty confident it would work.” “That’s not an answer.” “I really, really, really wanted to kiss you.”

He bunches up the saran wrap before Emma can object, another quick press to her cheek that isn’t really to her cheek and she feels like she’s floating. She’s not sure she’s ever felt like that.

Ruby groans when she walks back into the restaurant.

“Oh my God,” she sneers. “Is this our new normal? Because if it is, I’m taking my own car. Or that bus. It wasn’t really that bad.” “You made her take the bus, Swan?” Killian asks, tossing the saran wrap in the trash. Emma probably shouldn’t regret that.

“I was trying to figure out how to get you away from your own coffin.” He beams at her. Ruby throws several napkins across the restaurant.

“Can we go solve a murder, please? I’m sure Madam Mayor is very busy.” Emma takes a deep breath, glancing at a still-smiling Killian and the slight flush to his cheeks. She’s a little proud she put that there. “Yeah,” she nods. “Let’s go solve a murder.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #K I S S I N G

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luckcycler · 4 years

Note

hi! i know you have a info page (or whatever it's called) for your characters butt doesnt work on mobile? anyways i wanted ask if you could tell me what ultimate talents they have?

Huh…

Not sure how invested you are with how you phrased your question but I just copy-pasted all the info on this ask.

I’ll put it under read more because otherwise, it will be super long

Basic info:

Heartbreak is a story of 16 former students of Hope’s Peak Academy who have found themselves locked in the bizarre setting of a love hotel. And thus, a new exciting killing game takes place once again!

As the concepts of guilt and justification clash together inside the sickeningly pink walls of the hotel, one starts to wonder who exactly is the morally righteous one?

And to shake things up… a new rule has been added to the monopad.

The cast:

Aino Inoue

Former Ultimate Mermaid

Age: 20

Class:75-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Long Walks on the Beach, Astrology

Dislikes: Sand

It’s time for opinions! Meaning opinions from this woman! This is Aino Inoue, the ultimate mermaid! Or more precisely a professional underwater mermaid actress. It appears childhood career dreams do come true! She became a very known underwater actress for her infectious charm and her ability to stay underwater for 9 minutes without breathing.

Her attitude towards others is very straightforward but that doesn’t mean she is unfriendly, actually quite the opposite and especially if she is under the liquid courage. What’s personal space? She certainly doesn’t know.

Aino is a very nosy person and loves to give relationship advice to other people, even when these other people really don’t want it. It doesn’t help that quite a lot of these advices come from her obsession with astrology and blood type personality theory.

She can also be seen more often than not with a cocktail in hand to a point her constant state of tipsiness worries some of the others. In Aino’s opinion, it just makes her twice as fun!

Daisuke Okamoto

Former Ultimate Robot Combat Champion

Birthday: May 25th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Logic Puzzles, Memes

Dislikes: Raisins in Bread, Academic writing

Here comes the local memester! Daisuke Okamoto is the current robot combat champion. But despite his promising career path in the art of mauling battle robots and much to everyone’s bafflement. After his time in Hope’s Peak, he went to study engineering at his local university. He refuses to tell why he had such a change of heart even when he still regularly competes.

Daisuke is a second-generation immigrant with his mother being American and father being Japanese. Because of this, his sense of humor is influenced a lot by western internet culture. He tends to joke around a lot giving him a carefree attitude. He loves to entertain, although in serious situations his joking nature can come off as insensitive.

But under all the jokes and terribly outdated meme’s, he is very intelligent and a hard realist who wants to know every detail of the rules and isn’t afraid to ask them from Monokuma.

Gina Higanbana

Former Ultimate Biochemist

Birthday: October 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Poetry, Family

Dislikes: Frankenstein (Story), Sour Plums

Speaking of eccentric mad scientists! Gina Higanbana, the ultimate biochemist is the sort of person who definitely befriended every monster under her bed when she was young. Gina is a boisterous workaholic which has paid off since she is known most for her study of parabiosis. Unfortunately, not all of her fame is from positive feedback, as some of her testing methods have been found very unorthodox…

Gina presents herself as larger than life, after all, she is a woman of science! Though she delves with modern problems, her way of talking is very old fashioned, and even poetic, making her sound like she would fit right into a 19th-century romance novel.

While being a semi loud presence to the group, Gina tends to withdraw to her own space and has trouble talking about subjects outside of her interests. But when it comes to teaching neighbor kids how to turn a volcano eruption experiment into a baking soda canon, she is the right person to tag along.

Hotaka Muramaru

Former Ultimate Florist

Birthday: January 27th

Age: 22

Class: 73-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Frogs, Bellflowers

Dislikes: Kiwa Fukuda

Hotaka Muramaru, the former ultimate florist… Well, a former florist, really. He isn’t doing too hot in his life at this moment. These days he mainly does gardening work around his area. It is unfortunate as he was known for his striking floral arrangements and attention to small details before his family’s flower shop business went down.

Hotaka as a person is very forgiving by nature. He doesn’t like causing conflicts and it is very hard to get him angry. Despite these positive traits, he seems to be nice for the sake of being nice which makes it hard to get close to him in a way that matters outside of everyday small talk. It seems preserving what little image he has left is more important to him. This has also made him quite the perfectionist.

Kana Nakano

Former Ultimate Lifeguard

Birthday: May 2nd

Age: 25

Class: 70-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Children, Geocaching

Dislikes: Spontaneous Plans

Kana Nakano, the ultimate lifeguard is very passionate about her job. She is the mom friend of the group you know you can always rely on in any hardships, niche killing games included. She has become a very popular lifeguard at her local kids’ poolside as she has a knack for talking to children. Though because of this her way of talking can sound very condescending when speaking to other adults. She tends to simplify her words and soften the meaning much to some of the group’s irritation.

As a person, she can also be very stubborn until she meets her goal. If nothing else, she makes a great leader figure with a lot of survival abilities and experience in tough situations.

Katsurou Furusawa

Former Ultimate Hunter

Birthday: September 5th

Age: 23

Class: 72-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Sewing, Peace and Quiet

Dislikes: Wet Socks, Attention

This timid yet patient boy who looks like he just crawled out of a swamp is Katsurou Furusawa. Though he doesn’t like talking about his talent that much, he is known as the ultimate hunter. He got his title for his exceptional trap making skills and the ability to stay unmoving for hours to no end, blending to his environments seamlessly, and waiting for a pray to trigger his traps.

Personality-wise, Katsurou is bashful and likes to talk to himself rather than others. He has a tendency to be a people pleaser, disregarding his own beliefs and feelings on topics just to appease both sides of the argument. He was never a problem child, as he has always done what his parents told him to. Even accepting the invitation to Hope’s Peak was not his idea.

Katsurou is also a huge daydreamer. He seems to be more comfortable with the world inside his head than the real world, and it shows.

Kiwa Fukuda

Former Ultimate Scapegoat

Birthday: December 31st

Age: 23

Class: 72-B

Blood type: AB

Likes: Citrus Fruits, Tacky Decorations

Dislikes: Paper Cuts

Though she looks quite sporty, her talent is far from a healthy career. This awkward and accident-prone woman is Kiwa Fukuda, our protagonist. Unfortunately to some, she is known as the ultimate scapegoat, though this information is confidential especially in court. Her line of work is basically taking the fall for a singular person’s or even a whole company’s mistakes. If that’s not deemed realistic, she will direct the fault towards a more suitable candidate. The amount of guilt Kiwa’s work as a scapegoat leaves her with has made her desensitized and apathetic towards others.

Personality-wise, Kiwa is laidback and can come off as an airhead thanks to her apathetic demeanor towards their current situation. She tends to joke about terrible subjects that make people around her a bit uncomfortable to say the least.

Kiwa is also clumsy and tends to get involved in accidents without trying to. Be it an injury, a misunderstanding or a terrible accident, it’s easy to assume she always has something to do with it whether it was her fault or not. Kiwa now wears a bicycle helmet all the time to make sure she won’t get a third fracture on her skull.

Kohaku Iwatomi

Former Ultimate Gemologist

Birthday: June 4th

Age: 19

Class: 76-B

Blood type: O

Likes: Shiny Things, DIY

Dislikes: Loneliness

This is Kohaku Iwatomi and he is happily ready to talk your ears off! Kohaku is known as the ultimate gemologist, mainly because he changes his specialty in gemology quite often, always wanting to try out something new. He seems to excel in all the areas he has tried out so far through pure dedication and excitement towards his profession. Though, for some reason, he has been working as a gem appraiser in his local pawnshop for longer than his peers thought he would withstand to.

Kohaku is a very cheery young man who loves to mingle no matter the topic. If you know him, you probably know his whole life story. He doesn’t like silence, nor does he bode well if left alone for too long. He isn’t narcissistic though as he is very empathetic and wears his emotions on his sleeve, he just really likes company and he has so much information to share with everyone!

Kohaku also has a liking towards thrift shop clothes and DIY projects hence his striking and pretty mismatched appearance.

Masami Kiyokane

Former Ultimate Croupier

Birthday: July 17th

Age: 22

Class: 73-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Board Games, Philosophy of Ethics

Dislikes: Alcohol

As if there were not enough party poopers in this group… This is Masami Kiyokane and he is known as the ultimate croupier. He got his title through diligent croupier work at organized events and after coming of age, at established casinos. Masami also has gotten quite good at seeing who is cheating and he knows most card games by heart. He seems fascinated by game rules in general.

Masami’s personality is pretty uptight and passive-aggressive. His way of talking tends to be a colorful use of personification, especially when he is going on a tangent and complaining about something. Though he talks big, very rarely is his bite worse than his bark as he mutters under his breath before admitting he is in the wrong.

Masami has a very strong moral system he believes in. His rather judgmental attitude is unusual for someone who has a hobby of learning about ethical philosophy though and often he gets called a hypocrite for playing favorites. He is not very happy about that.

Mei Kaneko

Ultimate Phonologist

Birthday: March 21st

Age: 18

Class: 77-A

Blood type: B

Likes: Corvidae, Accents

Dislikes: Wasting Time

This young girl is Mei Kaneko. She is the youngest of the group as she is the only one still studying in Hope’s Peak. She should be set to graduate soon and she is more than excited to continue with her dreams towards a real working life as the ultimate Phonologist!

Personality-wise, Mei is very energetic and will give her all to any task at hand. She is also very loud and a bit of a daredevil. If you tell her to not push the red button, she will definitely push the red button.

Growing up, Mei’s neighborhood had always been surrounded by corvids. As she slowly got more familiar with them, she developed a fascination towards the crows that kept playing in her backyard. Mei had been studying dialects and languages since she was little thanks to her bilingual home and decided, quite abruptly, that her life work from then on would have to deal with establishing communication with corvids.

Nori Ikari

Former Ultimate Sailor

Birthday: December 8th

Age: 20 (?)

Class: 75-A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Folk Tales, Making Rope Knots

Dislikes: His Knee Brace

This theatrically boisterous man is Nori Ikari, the ultimate sailor. Believe it or not, he is as young as 20 years old, which has led some of the group to believe he is a vampire in disguise. Nori comes from a vast lineage of sailors of different ranks but all just as proud seafarers! Nori got his title as the ultimate sailor after recklessly making a week-long fishing trip alone in a trawler boat made for a crew of 10.

Nori tends to tell long tales of his ancestors which sound just bizarre enough that no one is quite sure if Nori is speaking the truth or not. To be honest, everything he says just sounds downright like a big fish story all the way down to his accent. Is this man real? No one has a good answer to that.

Personality-wise Nori can be pretty intense. He has a habit of making a bigger deal out of very normal things. Nori values honor and traditions and tends to get quite defensive if his integrity is challenged. And if needed, he might challenge you to a sword fight at a parking lot if he deems you need a fair ass kicking.

Okemia Momose

Former Ultimate Opera Singer

Birthday: March 10th

Age: 24

Class: 71-B

Blood type: A

Likes: Vintage Aesthetic, Home

Dislikes: Hope’s Peak, Luck

This nervous woman is Okemia Momose. It’s been a while since people have heard her sing, but she is still regarded as the ultimate opera singer. She got her title for her incredible range and her ability to hold a note for almost half a minute.

Nowadays though, her fame is shadowed by a traumatic event she went through in one of her performances. She was one of the performers at her local opera house which was run by a Yakuza family. However, there was a very strained turf war going on around the area that one day resulted in a shoot out at the opera house. Unfortunately to Okemia, she got caught in the crossfire and a bullet hit her temple. Though she survived, she got inflicted irredeemable damage to her brain which developed into a stutter.

Despite her towering over everyone with her height of a 6’5 feet, she is not very confident in herself. Okemia is a very high-strung person who tends to think the worst possible thing will definitely happen to her. Though she is nervous she has a lot of resentful opinions that are made from wise words

Shion Arai

Former Ultimate Figure Skater

Birthday: July 23rd

Age: 21

Class: 74-B

Blood type: B

Likes: Rhinestones, Straightforwardness

Dislikes: Cleaning, Bootlickers, Mornings

This person here is Shion Arai the ultimate figure skater! Under all the glitter, rhinestones, and an eccentric personality lies a somewhat kind-hearted individual who is willing to cooperate… as long as it doesn’t inconvenience them.

Shion got their title thanks to their impeccable ability to adapt and improve fast. They have won multiple competitions in their teen years despite starting the sport at age 12, which is considered quite late. After graduating Hope’s peak, Shion’s placement in the podiums has started to steadily drop. If asked about the slow decline of their career, Shion just shrugs nonchalantly, leaving it at that.

Shion identifies as nonbinary and they are very prideful towards their identity and their achievements. Despite this, they are also incredibly lazy and rarely bothers to do something they don’t want to. Their goal is to go where the bar is the lowest and if that’s not possible, they WILL complain.

Suzu Nagahashi

Former Ultimate Ballerina

Birthday: November 1st

Age: 21

Class: 74-A

Blood type: A

Likes: Rainy Days, Leather Jackets

Dislikes: Dancing

This cold and assertive young lady is Suzu Nagahashi, the ultimate ballerina and she is not here to get herself killed over some dumb motive. Suzu has been known for her skills all her life. Rumor has it her mother, a former ballerina, started teaching Suzu how to dance the moment she was able to take her first step. Absolutely no one was surprised when she got her invitation to Hope’s Peak, though she rarely showed up to school thanks to her harsh performance schedule.

Suzu is very stoic and she picks her words carefully. Though her tone of voice is very serious, her pink frilly dress makes her attempts to be taken seriously harder for her. Luckily Suzu is stubborn and will try her utmost best to keep the situation she has been thrown in solely under her control.

Tetsu Asukaze

Honorary Ultimate Taxi Driver

Birthday: October 1st

Age: 26

Class: N/A

Blood type: AB

Likes: Radio, Coffee, Extraterrestrials

Dislikes: N/A

This funky young man is Tetsu Asukaze and he is known as the ultimate taxi driver. Who would’ve thought that was a talent, huh? Tetsu’s situation as an ultimate is a bit different from others because he only discovered his talent after getting old enough to drive which meant his high school days were already over. Despite this, Hope’s Peak decided to give him an honorary title of an ultimate taxi driver. Whatever that means…

Even though Hope’s Peak had given a public acknowledgment of Tetsu’s talent, he doesn’t think much of it nor does he feel he really belongs with the other ultimates.

Personality-wise, Tetsu is your serene local cryptid whose life has no order and looking at his sleeping schedule it’ll stay like that. Despite his harmless chaos, he is a very sweet lad with a passion for the unknown and obscure theories.

Tsubaki Ito

Former Ultimate Mortician

Birthday: May 8th

Age: 24

Class: 71-A

Blood type: O

Likes: Medical History, Bad and Gory Horror Movies

Dislikes: Spirals

This unnerving and small woman is Tsubaki Ito, the ultimate mortician. She was born as a miracle child to an old couple that ran a mortician family business. In fact, everyone in her extended family is at least a generation older than her. As the years went by, her family slowly passing away from natural causes had become a regular occurrence.

Tsubaki is specialized in body restoration and desairology, as she tends to work with victims of causalities. She got her title by her ability to make even the worst of murder victims to look like they are merely sleeping in their caskets.

As the concept of death is an old friend in her family, Tsubaki has become desensitized towards the subject and can come off as insensitive towards the killing game. But what can you do when your daily routine occasionally includes pulling out a chainsaw from someone’s chest cavity due to a gruesome accident? Despite this, Tsubaki is very sweet and will address everyone with an endearing tone.

#Anonymous #drs heartbreak #fanganronpa

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rumpledgoldenweaver · 4 years

Text

TV Night

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt “I want to watch”

Read it on my blog https://earlyrisingwriting.home.blog/2020/03/26/tv-night/

This isn’t really smutty… I don’t know if I can do smut properly.. so I’ve gone for humour..?

All Belle wants to do is watch a film in peace..

She tried very hard not to sound overly pleased when Rumple called saying he’d been roped into attending a Storybrooke Council meeting that probably wouldn’t finish until late. In fact she actually managed to get through the entire conversation without letting the grin on her face show in her tone of voice. All she had to do now was wait until Gideon went to bed then she could have the treat she’d been promising herself for a month.

A box of paperback books had been left on the library circulation desk whilst Belle had been at lunch. She had no idea who the benefactor was, however not one to look a gift horse in the mouth she’d started to sort through them. One in particular had caught her eye as the photo of the leading man reminded her of Rumple.

Book One: Woven Lace – Hot to Touch

Belle devoured the book in one sitting. Scouring the internet for more she found that a straight to video film had been made of the first book, even better it was available to stream for free via Netflix. Now the perfect opportunity had presented itself. Her husband was out, her son fast asleep. Dressed in comfy pyjamas and armed with a bottle of wine Belle settled herself on the sofa, ready to indulge.

“Lacey this is police station not a pick up joint. You can’t keep wandering in here and..”

“Oh Detective” Lacey purred running a manicured red nail down the front of his shirt “you know you love it when I come here and entertain you”

“Is that what you call it?” damn that woman. He should tell her to leave. Really should tell her to leave

“Or entertain you and come.. take your pick”

Her hand had reached his belt, deft fingers were starting to undo it

“Lacey. Please don’t..”

“Don’t what Detective? What don’t you want me to do?”

“Stop” he groaned “dammit Lacey don’t stop..”

Belle was transfixed. She had never heard of the actor playing Weaver - Robert something.. she would be Googling him as soon as the film finished. That wasn’t all she’d like to do to him. She gigged, Ruby was bad influence on her.

“What on earth is that?”

Belle simultaneously jumped, blushed and fumbled with the remote in order to try and turn the film off. So engrossed was she in Woven Lace’s on screen activities that she hadn’t heard Rumple arriving home.

“Nothing.. just some TV programme or other..”

“Oh I see” Rumple grinned, parking himself next to Belle on the sofa “Well press play then”

“What?”

“Press play. Come on I want to watch”

Belle stared at him. Surely he was joking? Nope he wasn’t, he was teasing her and thoroughly enjoying it like the asshole he could be sometimes.

“How was the council meeting? Let me get you a glass of wine...”

“Nowhere near as interesting as your TV show. Whatever it’s called..” he pressed the button that put information about the film on screen “Woven Lace: Hot to Touch apparently. Ooh!”

Belle returned with a second glass.

“You can watch but please try not to give a running commentary”

Rumple’s hand covered his heart, a look of mock indignation on his face “Me? Never!”

“Hmmm” was the only response his wife made as she pressed the play button.

He lasted about ten minutes

“Who is that actor? I’ve seen him in something...”

“Robert Carlyle”

“What’s he been in?”

“I don’t know. Google him”

“Certainly wouldn’t recognise him from that angle”

“Rumple!”

“Sorry”

The action had moved from Detective Weaver’s office to his apartment. He’d had found a use for a spare pair of handcuffs, Lacey was demonstrating a rather impressive range of movement.

“He’s a messy sod. Clothes everywhere”

Belle snorted “Not everyone puts their three piece suit back in the wardrobe on tissue covered hangers before taking their lover to bed”

“Touché”

Glancing across he noticed that for all her sharp retorts Belle looked rather pink around the ears, he leaned in and whispered “You fancy him don’t you”

The pink blush got deeper “Who?”

Rumple grinned “Who she says. Him on the TV.. Robert Weaver or whatever he’s called”

“I...”

“Yes you do”

Belle looked at him “He reminds me of you”

“What? An old, grey haired short arse?”

“No! A hot silver fox who obviously looks after himself”

The view on the screen left them both in no doubt as to the actor’s health and fitness regime.

“Indeed” grunted Rumple.

The sound of a small voice crying for his Mama silenced any further retort. “Oh fuck” Belle and Lacey exclaimed in unison though for completely different reasons.

“I’ll go” Rumple got up and stalked out of the room.

Belle sighed. All she wanted was two hours peace to watch a trashy, shamelessly pornographic movie. Was that really too much to ask?

Gideon was very happy to see his Papa, he got a story, cuddles and a promise of pancakes for breakfast the next day. Rumple was more than willing to indulge his boy whatever he wanted. He closed Gideon’s bedroom door, instead of heading back downstairs to torment Belle some more, he headed to their room and sat heavily on the bed. Knowing full well it was silly to be jealous of an actor and indeed he was being childish, selfish as well as all the other litany of charges likely to be held against him by his wife didn’t help. He considered using magic to help him apologise. He could conjure anything she desired. He looked at his wardrobe door. Maybe he wouldn’t need magic.

The film ended with Weaver and Lacey declaring their undying lust for each other. Belle switched off the television, huffing to herself. Rumple hadn’t come back downstairs after settling Gideon, no doubt he was sulking somewhere, dreaming up fantastical revenges against Mr Carlyle for daring to capture her attention. She was shaken out of her mental preparations for appeasing a moody Dark One by a knock at the door.

Who in the seven hells was calling at this time of night? If it’s one of the Charmings she muttered I’ll turn them into a bloody frog myself. Never mind the Dark one, it’s the Dark Wife you need to be wary of.

Whoever it was knocked again “Alright alright keep the noise down” she pulled open the door, a mouthful of abuse ready and waiting to go for whoever was on the other side.

“Mrs Gold?”

Belle opened her mouth and then shut it again. Detective Weaver was stood on her porch, head cocked to one side, thumbs in his jeans pockets, smirking. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone, a heavy silver bracelet visible from under the sleeves of his leather jacket.

No way thought Belle.

“Mrs Belle Gold?” Weaver repeated

“Yes...”

“It’s been reported that you are watching pornographic material whilst under the influence of alcohol. Is that right Mrs Gold?”

“It might be” she smiled, catching on to her husband’s game.

“May I come in?” Weaver entered the house without waiting for a reply, Belle shut the door behind him.

“You do realise Mrs Gold that those are very serious offences. I will need to take you into custody”

He dangled a pair of handcuffs from the end of one finger “Will you come quietly?”

“Absolutely not” Belle grinned

Her husband gave a filthy smile “I was hoping you’d say that”

#a monthly rumbelling #rumbelle #woven lace #smut that isn't smutty

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bet-your-ash · 4 years

Text

RedBox

RedBox: A Cherry Tree Extra 1,400 words

“I’m booooored,” Ashley dragged out, throwing another cherry pit at the wall of the tree house. “Me too,” Lilac sighed. She twirled a twig around in her hand, inspecting the leaf on top of it. After another second of silence, she glanced at Ashley and added, “You know, we could always go inside and finish that ess-”

“Nope!” Ashley interrupted. “Nope, nope, nope, do not even say the word.”

“You’re gonna have to do it eventually, Ash…”

“Not if the world ends before May, I don’t.”

Lilac rolled her eyes. “Don’t count on it.”

“Okay, you know what?” Ashley said, standing up with a determined look on her face. “We are going to go out.”

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Go out where?” Ashley shrugged, patting her pockets for her keys. “Dunno. Somewhere.” She frowned, pulling the pockets of her shorts out to look for her keys. “Where’d I…”

“Kitchen counter, Ash,” Lilac sighed, standing up and climbing down the ladder.

“Damn,” Ashley muttered. “We’ll have to talk to people.”

“It’s just Connor - your mom’s out, right?” Lilac asked, and Ashley scowled. “Just Connor,” she echoed, following Lilac through the living room to the kitchen. “Just Connor, just a centipede, just -” She snickered as she saw Connor sitting at the kitchen table. “Just two thousand eight Joe Jonas…”

“I do not look like Joe Jonas!” Connor groaned, throwing up his hands.

“Yeah,” Ashley said, mussing his grown out hair, “you do.”

“His hair is, like, black!”

“Yeah, well, it’s the length that counts.”

“That’s what she said,” Lilac said under her breath, and Connor grinned. “Damn right!”

“Gee, thanks, Li,” Ashley said incredulously.

“C’mon Ash,” Lilac laughed, putting an arm around Ashley’s shoulders as she led her out of the house and towards her car. “Honestly, sometimes I think you like him more than me,” Ashley mumbled, and Lilac nudged her shoulder. “Only when you’re indecisive about where we’re going.”

“Hmm,” Ashley hummed, turning her key in the engine. “How about Walmart?”

Lilac raised an eyebrow. “... why?”

“Dunno,” Ashley replied with a shrug. “I wanna see a movie and there’s a - there’s, like, one of those old fashioned movie box things over there, right?” Lilac frowned. “Can’t we just watch Netflix? Do you even have money?”

Ashley grinned, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. “Semantics, darling - let’s just get there, shall we?” Lilac sighed, gazing out the window, and then smiled when Ashley turned up the radio and shouted along with the song playing.

They made it to Walmart fairly quickly and wandered around inside the store for a few minutes. “Ever seen the Aristocats?” Ashley asked from behind Lilac, and Lilac turned around to see Ashley posing in a mirror with a large, feathery, purple scarf wrapping around her neck.

“Better not die on me, Ash,” Lilac joked, and Ashley sighed wistfully, putting on a fake British accent. “Never, darling, but not for you - I just couldn’t bear to leave my sweet little kittens all alone!”

“You should play her in the live action remake,” Lilac laughed.

“Jesus,” Ashley said, putting the scarf back on the rack, “those damn live actions. Like, why do they have to butcher those classic oldies? Can’t they just leave them be and make new stories?”

“Disney died, right? Maybe they’re just not as creative as he was.”

Ashley frowned, feeling the fabrics of the rack of coats they were passing. “Okay, well, he couldn’t have made up all of those stories single handedly.” Lilac shrugged, putting her hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t ask me - my four am internet spirals consist solely of Napoleon and Casablanca.”

“Napoleon?” Ashley echoed. “Isn’t that the three flavored ice cream?”

Lilac grinned. “Yeah, sure.”

“We should watch that movie again,” Ashley mused, stopping by a sun glasses display to fiddle with the various glasses. “What, Casablanca?” Lilac asked, and Ashley nodded, trying on a pair of pink, heart shaped sunglasses. “Yeah,” she said. “Ingrid Bergman can, like, get it.”

Lilac scoffed. “Are you serious?”

Ashley smirked, pushing the pink glasses down her nose slightly to look at Lilac. “As a heart attack, kid.” Lilac rolled her eyes. “You just have a thing for Swedes.” Ashley shrugged, exchanging the hearts for neon green aviators. “Perhaps. Tall people are something to be admired.”

Lilac looked down at her feet. What height was considered tall?

“Hey, think there’s a back entrance available to the public?” Ashley asked, breaking Lilac out of her thoughts. “Or do we have to break into an employee only area…” Lilac cleared her throat. “I dunno. But I do know,” she said, slipping the glasses off of Ashley’s nose, “that you steal these and we’re both going to jail.”

Ashley raised a brow. “Who’s to say that wasn’t my goal?”

“Me, Ash, I intend to keep my record clean.”

“You have horrible taste in friends for such a dimwitted goal, Lila.”

Lilac rolled her eyes with a smile, steering Ashley away from the door marked Employees Only at the back of the store and back towards the front entrance. “I’ll have you know that my taste in friends is impeccable,” Lilac replied. “You’re the only exception.”

Ashley giggled, leaning into Lilac’s shoulder. She hummed under her breath, “Darling you… are… the only exception…” Lilac raised an eyebrow. “Is that… Paramore?” she asked, and Ashley shrugged.

“Dunno,” she said absently, pouting when Lilac pulled her away from the sunglasses rack again. They walked through the doors and around the parking lot and finally found the Red Box they’d been looking for.

“Oooh, Spies in Disguise!” Ashley squealed, pointing excitedly at the movie on the screen. “That looks awful, Ash,” Lilac said flatly, and Ashley scoffed. “That’s Tom Holland you’re disrespecting, Lila, watch yourself!”

“Isn’t he the Spiderman guy?”

“You should see his abs,” Ashley sighed wistfully, putting a hand over her forehead and swooning backwards. Lilac caught her, rolling her eyes, and muttered, “He looks like he’s eating a frog.” Ashley grinned. “It’s all part of his charm, Lila.”

“Charm or not, we’re not watching Spies in Disguise,” Lilac said conclusively. “How about The Invisible Man?” Ashley grimaced. “Absolutely not. Shall we have our horror movie debate again?”

“Okay, how about… Dolittle?”

“Too many cute animals,” Ashley sighed. “I’ll cry. I wanna comedy. How ‘bout -”

“Dolittle is a comedy!”

“A real comedy!” Ashley exclaimed. “Like Scooby Doo!”

“You’re just gay for Daphne,” Lilac muttered.

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, you are too - besides, can’t be any more disturbing than the cartoon, can it? We can make fun of it and eat popcorn…” Lilac heaved a sigh but keyed in the number and paid, making Ashley squeal excitedly and wrap her arms around Lilac’s shoulders in a hug.

“Thank you, thank you, Lila!” she chirped, but she stayed put even after a few seconds to watch the movie appear out of the slot with her arms still around Lilac’s shoulders. Lilac got the movie and glanced at her after a second, raising an eyebrow and trying not to make it too obvious how much she was dying at their proximity.

“Gonna move, or am I gonna piggy back you all the way home?” Lilac asked.

There was a beat of silence.

“What if,” Ashley whispered, “we kissed in front of the Walmart Redbox… and we were both girls?” Lilac froze. “Um…” Ashley giggled, pulling away and singing loudly, “I have my dinner in my bathtub, then I go to sex club, la da da da da da…”

“What the fuck?” Lilac muttered hoarsely.

Ashley laughed at Lilac’s startled expression. “It’s a Tik Tok, Li, get with the program!” Lilac laughed wrly, shaking her head. “Of course it is,” she mumbled, getting into the passenger seat of Ashley’s car.

“Hey, would you be willing to dress up as a Jonas brother for Halloween?” Ashley asked as they pulled out of the Walmart parking lot. “My brother’s already got the hair cut - or lack thereof - and you’re giving me Kevin vibes.”

Lilac frowned. “I don’t know whether I should be insulted or flattered.”

“Both,” Ashley said. “But maybe it’s just ‘cause I’m a Nick…”

***

🍒 la fin 🍒

lol if you couldn’t tell, this was based on this Tik Tok... lee showed it to me and it uhhh I was inspired, as you can see hehe

Anyway, there’s the first extra! We hope you enjoyed... We’re a little late today sldkfjds sorry about that BUT we hope you liked it anyway!!! If you wanna be a gem, tell if you’ve ever kissed a girl in front of watched a movie from a RedBox here! Or tell us anything!!! Feedback is much appreciated 😊

See you on Saturday!

#writing #writeblr #writblr #fluff #tik tok #creative writing #oc #ocs #WIP #WIPS #extras #cherry tree #jonas brothers #tom holland #spies in disguise #scooby doo #words

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mschrisaholic · 5 years

Text

What If You Both Keep A Secret From Each Other?

Imagine:

You and Chris have already been together for 3 years and have been living together for over a year. One day morning, you found him at the island at the kitchen, making breakfast and talking to Dodger with your favorite song playing, “I’ll Name the Dogs” by Blake Shelton. (Listen to the song during reading!!!)

P.S.~

This is requested by @bitchy-quicksilver-things. Thanks for supporting and giving me my first ever request!!! English is not my first language, so please do forgive me if I make any mistakes, which I am so sure that there are some in my writing;)) And I MAY or may not have already written a sequel for this one! So STAY TUNED!!!

My Masterlist

You woke up and found that you were hugging Chris’ pillow instead of him. Being your caring boyfriend for over 3 years, Chris knew you needed something in your arms during your sleep, otherwise, you couldn’t sleep well. You yawned and stretched your arms, looked around the room trying to find him. You didn’t see any notes left on the nightstand from Chris. Therefore, you got up from the bed and walked out of the room.

Girl, it's high time, I tell ya No more messin' around Time to lay these cards on the table And just throw it on out

You heard these lyrics while you were standing at the first step to the downstairs and you decided to stop there for a while.

“Oh bubba, it’s y/n favorite song!” You heard your boyfriend addressed Dodger.

I'm talkin' you and me with the same street name Same last name, same everything

It's a real thing, a how I feel thing

So I'mma go on and take a swing

You find the spot and I'll find the money

You be the pretty and I'll be the funny

You plant the flowers, I'll plant the kisses

Baby, let's get right down to business

I'll hang the pictures, you hang the stars

You pick the paint, I'll pick a guitar

Sing you a song out there with the crickets and the frogs

You name the babies and I’ll name the dogs

“Same last name, same everything…You name the babies and I’ll name the dogs.” You heard Chris sang along with the song but he didn’t know all the lyrics so he just sang those he knew, those that you loved most from the song by coincidence. You slightly giggled from how silly he sounded like. Chris was frying the eggs and bacon when he started talking to Dodger.

“Oh man, I love this. Same last name, same everything. You’ll name the babies and I’ll name the dogs. You know what, bubba, I think y/n is the one. I want her to be the one who names the babies and carries them. You agree with me here, huh bubba?”

You heard what Chris had told Dodger and could feel that your eyes were welled up a bit. You could not stop the happy tears, you covered your mouth with your hand. You were a bit shocked. Actually, you have thought about it for months. You have already realized that Chris is your Mr. Right, your Prince Charming, but you didn’t know about him. Being a superstar, Chris could choose as many girls as he liked. Sometimes, you just didn’t understand why Chris would choose you. These were the moments when you saw someone saying that you’re ugly and you don’t deserve Chris on the internet. You were an actress too, you were in the Avengers too. You’ve got many fans but sometimes you just cared more about how Chris’ fans thought about you. But right now, what more important was Chris chose you to be the one that he wanted to spend his life with. This is huge, right?

Watch the sun set from a gravel road

Kiss me in the kitchen on your tippy toes

Still lovin' on you when the rooster crows

Watching way more than the garden grow

“Oh yeah, I’ll make breakfast every day so that y/n will kiss me in the kitchen. I love it. Taking a rest from filming, staying at home, making breakfast while y/n is still sleeping, she may wake up by the smell of the breakfast and come down here to give me a kiss. After kissing, we go upstairs to wake up our kids. Sounds like a good retirement plan for me.”

You giggled with his retirement plan, you had the exact picture when you’re listening to this song. That’s why you love it so much.

Yeah, laying next to you every night

Sounds like a damn good life

“Oh does Blake know me? Hell yeah, sounds like a damn good life! Oh god, I love this song. I’ll name the dogs. Oh but now I only have one dog and I’ve already named you, Dodger.” Chris put his well-cooked eggs and bacon on the plates and petted Dodger. Chris’ phone started to play ‘Someone Like You’ by Adele. This was the moment you decided to show up and pretended you had heard nothing.

“Good morning boys.” You petted Dodger and pecked Chris’ lips.

“Good morning babe! How long have you been up?” You could see that Chris was a little tense, maybe because he was afraid that you had heard what he said lately.

“Not long. When “Someone Like You” started to play. I’m starving.” You lied but pouted when you said the ‘starving’ part. You could see Chris slightly sighed with relief.

“Then you’re lucky that I’ve made you breakfast! Your favorite, eggs and bacon.”

“Nope, my favorite is you.” You said and gave a peck on his lips one more time.

“Oh someone here is in a good mood.” Chris put his arms around your torso.

“Yeah, I had a very good sleep yesterday night.”

Since that day onwards, you and Chris, each of you kept a secret from each other. Chris was planning something big for you and you were hiding the truth that you overheard Chris’ words to Dodger.

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #avengers endgame #marvel #chris evans angst #chris evans fan fiction

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breakdawn-avenue · 4 years

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Datastorm December, Day 1

Day 1: “In your shadow (I can shine)” @datastorm-december

Summary: Ai wonders what exactly a family consists of since he only know the classic set-up is usually depicted by a father, a mother and a child. That’s all he knows. He also knows that Yusaku still longs for a family, a place to call home, people to come back to deep down. Good thing that he knows that Ryoken longs for it in secret, too. And that he has made a friend on the other side of the world who helps him in giving Yusaku the best birthday present in the world.

words: 1.245 note: @tarashima: “Can a million fics with this AU just magically appear? Please? I don’t have time to write myself and I don’t have money to commission someone else to write them for me //gross sobbing” maybe not what you might’ve expected, and maybe not a million but I think I can provide a little bit??? _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Calliope said: ≫äh... no, that’s an outdated worldview – at least in my opinion. a family is way more than just a dad, a mom and one or more children. of course, my teachers in my apprenticeship would say this is still the norm, and that might be true. but not 100 %. the world is changing. the ‘scientific’ worldview is changing. I’m also interacting with more people on the internet than before, and their opinions change mine as well. right now, I think a family can be two fathers and a child. and the other was around – two mothers and a child (or more, of course). you have single dads and mothers who are raising a child which are families, too. but I think sisters and brothers who are taking care of each other are a family, too. an older brother taking care of his younger sister – family. an older sister who takes care of her younger siblings – family. to take it a step further – whatever the circumstances, you can have two best friends who are taking care of either’s younger sibling or just a child who isn’t blood related to any of them. “villains” taking care of their friends – family. did you know that friends are viewed as the people you chose to be your family? one thing for sure – you don’t have to be married to anyone to be a father or a mother. families are existing in classical and modern set-ups.≪ Ai’s SOLtis’ eyes light up in utter glee. His internet friend’s point of view is absolutely fantastic. He had thought that his inexplicable feelings and thoughts would be this – reason too much mixed with emotions. But his friend could describe his frenzy mind just perfectly. What a pleasant surprise now that he ended up chatting with a young woman from Germany who just finished her apprenticeship as a social assistant. It was absolutely pure luck in his point of view. A fantastically pure luck. Ai said: ≫Dear! That! Is! So! Ai-tastic! What a delAi-ghtful insight! Please allow me to enlAi-ghten my “family” with this brilliant elaboration!≪ Calliope said: ≫pff, I still can’t believe you named yourself after the Japanese word “love”. do whatever you want with it. see you! ah, yes! and happy birthday to your brother!≪ Ai snickers. Pure luck mixed with intelligence. He just simply loves his friend. “If you knew... if you just knew, my dear!” He shuts off his tablet and puts it back on the table before leaving his room in the new flat Yusaku has rented with his boyfriend. Who finally settled with each other six months ago. But only because Ai helped these two hopeless young adults. Everyone was so helpless without his devotion and care. He finds both of them as well as Pandor and Roboppy in the living room. The latter’s birthday present – a very sweet and cute drawing of all of them – is already hanging on the wall, even framed. He sees the words of his online friend before his eyes once more. Ai smiles brightly. Except for Pandor who is running whatever simulations Ryoken had ordered her to do, the others had turned into sleepy heads. No one does anything else besides sitting on the couch and getting their brains turned into mush by watching tv. So it has to be him once more to light up the mood. “You wouldn’t believe what I just found out- ” “Brave Max is getting interviewed by Frog and Pigeon again?” Yusaku asks, audibly bored. Then he would never act so excitedly. Even his Origin must be able to come to the very same conclusion. “No, even better!” Ai explains. “Make it short,” Ryoken demands. “We need to leave in an hour.” “Pah! I got a 100 % better birthday present for my dear Yusaku-chan than your corny dinner at a fancy restaurant!” Ryoken flinches. His cheeks are instantly getting a scarlet hue. Then he hadn’t revealed his present quite yet. “Sorry for ruining your surprise – but your present is still nothing compared to mine!” Ai says confidently. Ryoken tries to murder him with the deadly look in his arctic blue eyes. “Okay! So, first of all, Calliope says happy birthday- ” Yusaku flinches. “Who’s that?!” “A dear friend of mine from Germany. Really – awesome girl, all of you would love her instantly! Especially you, Yusaku-chan!” The recipient raises one eyebrow, visible skepticism in his emerald coloured eyes. Ai snickers. “Can we meet her?” Roboppy asks with an excited tone in their voice. “Negative,” comes a quiet beep from Pandor. She still doesn’t look up from her work. Ai snickers again. “Don’t forget that she lives in Germany! That’s pretty far away!” “Aww!” Ryoken’s eyes, however, start to shimmer inexplicably. His reaction is the most peculiar. Ai knits his eyebrows. “You. Of all artificial beings. Have made a friend. Online?!” “Of course! Even if I’m surprised as well since my dearest Calliope is just as introverted as my Yusaku-chan. We connected from the very beginning! But who could resist my charm anyway?” He then poses, simply for the dramatics and antics he loves so much to carry out. “ ...That poor girl. We must safe her from your Partner.” “Well, she chose to interact with him with her free will. So did I... ” Yusaku admitted quietly. “But! She doesn’t only resemble my dear Yusaku-chan in being an introvert but in intelligence, too! Did you know that friends are the people you yourself chose to be your family? And did you know that there isn’t the classical set-up of a family anymore? Two fathers and a child can be a family! Older brothers and sisters, raising their siblings, can be a family!” He waltzes up to Yusaku and draws him into a tight hug. His Origin almost manages to escape him. But Ai wouldn’t let him. “Ai, what are you talking about?!” “That means – we are a family, too!” This stops Yusaku’s effortless tries to free himself from his Partner. With eyes wide open, he stares up to him. Ai smiles even brighter. “Happy birthday, my dearest Yusaku-chan!” “So... are Yusaku and I brothers, too?” Roboppy wants to know. “Negative, too- ” “Of course!” Ai replies while Ryoken slams his face with his right hand. Pandor just sighs breathlessly before emerging into her work again. But one snap from Ai’s fingers, and her tablet shuts off. “ ...How did you- ” “It’s a kind of magic!” Ai giggles. “And what about- ” “Nope – they aren’t brothers. They are a couple, Roboppy-chan! Like – you know, in our soap operas!” “Aaah!” “Brothers? How could we be brothers anyway if your artificial DNA is made off of me?” Ai blinks. Then it hits him. “Twins!” he shrieks with utter glee. “ ...That’s too much. I’m going to shut him down!” Ryoken swears. “We’re more than brothers, of course! We’re twins! I should’ve realized it sooner, haha! Silly me!” Ryoken is already getting serious when he takes off his jacket. Yusaku isn’t fast enough to stop him. While Roboppy, as usual, cheers on their precious aniki, Ryoken chases him through the living room. Pandor tries effortlessly to stop Ai. Resignation ties him down on the couch so Yusaku just lets them. He shakes his head with a deep sigh. If anything, this so-called family is a mess. However, he can’t deny that he still loves this actually but not-actually dysfunctional family. He found a home with them.

#datastorm-december #yugioh vrains #Ai #Fujiki Yusaku #Kogami Ryoken #Roboppy #Pandor #bA’s writing #oh my slowly crawling back to writing #but still a bit rusty ugh

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kahliethefangirl · 5 years

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Froggy apron - Silverflint

Title: Froggy Apron Summary: Silver attempts making dinner for his companion Flint. Yet Flint being nosy and Silver proud have it end up a little bit messy. Pairing: Silverflint (AU) Rating: T Warnings: Sexual hints. Note: English is self-taught; please be kind. Soo wine and INXS miight have been involved.. I guess this is what happens then, lol.

Silver stares down - what is supposed to be - a pot with boiling tomato soup. He found a recipe on the internet and thought to surprise his companion as he arrived home later that night. Yet for some reason it doesn't seem to help Silver at all, having a step-by-step manual on how to make the soup, that in all honesty seemed fairly easy to make, as he first read through what he needed and how to prepare it. "It's a curse." Silver mutters under breath after tasting some of the deep red soup - fair enough, spreading a delicious scent through the open space kitchen/livingroom - yet the taste was amiss. With a frustrated grunt he plops the spoon down the pot and stir it mindlessly as he wakes the old phone to life; checking for the fifth time that he did everything right. But ofcourse there's the Thyme issue. He found no Thyme in the house and maybe that is what caused this mess? Flint had been smug about the whole 'I'll surprise you with a homecooked meal' thing ever since he came home to find Silver with his nose pressed to the phone, his curls in a messy bun on his head and Flint's silly apron with chef frogs printed onto the white fabric. It had been a gift from Silver, claiming Flint to sound like a frog when he mumbled and grunted for himself as he cooked. But fact is - sounding like a frog or not - Flint always did the cooking and Silver was contributing with.. eh, well, other things? A joke about being more of a decoration in their mutual home, had been made by one of their friends. It had upset Flint however and the joke was only given voice once. At least in his precense. "Something wrong?" Flint wonders where he emerges from his little study further down the hall, also holding doors to the utility room, master bathroom and bedroom. Silver had shooed him off before, claiming he didn't need to intervene in Silver's questional precense in the kitchen. But it had gotten too tempting for the ginger. "Uh, no? Of course not." Silver snaps where he glares towards his companion leaning against the kitchen counter a safe distance from the cooking experiment. "Why you ask?" He adds in a mutter and Flint purse his lips, trying to keep his entertained smiling to a minimum. "You've been tasting the soup safely four times now without doing anything with it." Flint points out as kindly as his ability allows before he pushes himself from the counter, arms crossed over his chest hidden behind the white buttonup. Silver hates to admit it; but he don't know what to do with the soup. Maybe it's edible but far from something he wanted to serve Flint after a long day at work. He tugs the apron, kept in place by a green ribbon around his waist, matching the color of the happy frogs in white puffy hats and random utensils in their 'hands'. "Yeah well; I am a perfectionist." Silver smiles proudly, that shiteating grin that shows off his pearly whites. But also the smile telling Flint he's up to something, or straight down lying. "Mh-hm." Flint nods theatrical, stroking his bearded chin a little as he approaches the bubbling soup and Silver staring at him with suspicion written all over his face; dropping his grin quickly enough. "All chefs can need an input from time to time." He suggests innocently but Silver is on him within the second; blocking Flint's approach with his free hand pressing to his one strong arm. "I can do this!" Silver barks, almost a bit childish and the familiar twitch in Flint's face lets him know the taller man is absolutely amused by Silver's behaviour. "Of course you can." Flint's hand lands on Silver's wrist and the dark haired man stares to the fingers gently wrapping his wirst in a loving cage. "But i let you taste my food for input, so why not the other way around?" Flint cocks a challenging brow and Silver reluctantly let him remove his hand stopping him from gettin any closer to Silver's newly claimed domain. God knows however, that this is the last time he'll ever attempt cooking food for Flint. Silver contemplates this for a short moment, staring between the food and the man now looking a charming mix of superior and utterly entertained. However Silver is as stubborn as Flint is well... Flint? Sure, Flint always have Silver come swaying over the floor like a dog promised a treat, whenever he is cooking. Silver comes on command partly because Flint's cooking is remarkable but also because he secretly enjoys the innocent intimacy that comes with Flint offering him a taste of the food, always with his hand under Silver's chin if he'd spill. "You just want kudos." Silver puts out his chin with a last glare toward his companion. Flint now allows himself to laugh. "Don't be such a boy. Let me taste and maybe I can help." Flint laughs and does the fatal error of taking the last step towards a very threatened Silver. The approach results in a cranky Silver turning towards the taller man, swaying the spoon from the soup up the air like it was a sword. "Don't you dare!" Silver roars but shut himself up as he can see Flint standing there, still like a statue with the red soup sprayed across his face and on his white shirt. A new shirt too, if Silver didn't loose track of his notes when continuosly raiding Flint's wardrobe for clothes to steal. Silver lowers the spoon between them like a wooden stick covered in blood and silently, biting his lower lip into his mouth, he gently puts it back into the pot. "Oops?" Silver rise his shoulders, framing his reddening face and smiles insecurely where he fist the stupid apron between his fingers. Flint opens his eyes very slowly, the crease between his eyebrows hard to tell if there because of anger or shock. Silver's heart is racing and pulse roaring in his ears. "Red, suits you." He tilts his head to the side, trying to looke cute whereas Flint only stare at him tierdly; like a parent fed up with its childs never ending bravades. "It does, does it?" Flint sighs when he look down to his before purely white shirt now; well it looks like someone tried making modern art of it. Maybe that, Silver could actually do? Modern food art on clothes. Ashamed Silver stare down his feet, naked on the heated floor and he press his toes towards the polished wood and chew the inside of his cheek. "Thyme, is what you need." Flint says with a slow drag to his voice and looking up to him through his eyelashes Silver can see Flint gathering some of the soup from his cheeks and puts his fingers into his mouth for another taste. Flint looks to Silver, whos instinctive reaction is to tell the man off for tasting although he so straightly forbid it. Yet Silver keeps his mouth shut about that. "We're out of Thyme." He shifts on the spot and turns to the stove, turning it off. There is no use, the soup won't get any better than this. "You sure?" Flint doesn't look too sure. "I think I bought some the other day. Did you check the top shelf?" He questions and Silver opens his mouth to protest, but close it just as quick. He never did check the top shelf, did he? Feeling absolutely beaten down about the fact he threw soup in Flint's face and ruined his new shirt, he marches towards the spice cupboard with imagined tail between his legs. Opening it and actually looking not only in one place, there is a brand new bag of dried Thyme. He takes the bag between his fingers and brings it down, staring at it as if it just comitted high treason; hiding from his not so observant view the entire time. "This is an omen." Silver sighs. "If I ever attempt to cook for you aga-" He turns to hand the Thyme to Flint and simply let him take over. Silver could maybe set the table and then go back to be a pretty plant or ambient painting. However he chokes on his words as Flint stands by the kitchen island, unbuttoning his ruined shirt. Now; Silver had seen a fair share of Flint over their time together, yet it never siece to mezmerise him when Flint so carelessly shows off skin. Silver is the not so smooth one, running around in only socks and bare skin, throwing himself over Flint when he at night reads his books. Stuff like that is Silver, not Flint. So when normally very lowkey sexy man is undressing in the kitchen with food on his face well; Silver is shivering. He watches as Flint is unbuttoning the shirt with a focused frown upon his brow. Silver gulps where he can't really tear his blue eyes off of Flint's freckled chest now fully exposed as he slips out the dirty garment. "I eh- I'm sorry about the shirt." Silver mumbles with a dry mouth and he tries to keep his eyes above Flint's broad shoulders. Flint glance Silver's way where he folds the shirt messily over his one arm and where he most likely was to venture for the utility room, he stops to stare at Silver being an obvious mess in their kitchen. "Are you okay?" Flint questions, cocking a brow. Silver feels his pulse picking up and not sure of where to put himself he simply shakes his head in all directions and truns to the stove; the color of his face probably matching the steaming soup. "Yeah, sure! Why wouldn't I be?" He huffs as he grabs the pot and pull it from the hot stove. He licks his lips and close his eyes for a second; scolding himself for being such a teen whenever around his companion wearing less than a full outfit. One would think he'd gotten used to those things now. But again; Flint always being so proper only undressing for bed, changing or a shower.... "Don't worry about the shirt. I have more." Flint chuckles. "As you well know. I think you may have a better clue what's inside my wardrobe than I have myself." He teases and clearing his throat Silver is shuffling around all kinds of things happeing to lie on the counter before him. Oh how he hates when Flint pulls him down from his usual self to a level where he simply is so sold on the man he'd act as carpet if he only asked it of him. Poor Silver, he thinks for himself. "Not my fault your shirts look better on me." Silver croaks, trying to sound cocky yet ending up sounding like he's having a mental breakdown. Yup, his mind may very well do a Chernobyl explosion any second. "Oh, they do?" Flint purrs, his voice like a warm finger decending from Silver's bared neck down over his back hidden behind the fabric of the grey t-shirt he wears around the house. Silver is trying to come up with a smart comeback to Flint's teasing question as he can feel the ginger's two hands snake around his hips; holding them in a firm yet very delicate way. Silver's blue eyes stare into the tiles on the wall before him and his jaws pop when all he can hear is the roaring and buzzing in his ears. He's normally very full of himself and thinks very highly of his name; yet Flint pulls him down under the crust of erath within seconds if he so wishes to. And the damned bastard enjoys it way too much! "Thank you for making me dinner." Flint mumbles into the black curls recklessly resting ontop of silver's head now pounding furiously. His lips whisper against the shell of Silver's ear and the feeling is so light he would've been able to miss it; was it not for all his senses being trained on the tall being now behind him; so close he can't do anyting but anticipate the moment when he can feel Flint's front press against his back form. "How it now may be." Silver mutters, or stutters maybe. His mouth is dry yet there's an abundance of saliva under his tongue. "As said; a little Thyme and I think you have outdone yourself." Flint tells absentmindedly; now more focused on running the tip of his nose along Silver's skull and his one hand lays flat to his abdomen; where muscles are working frantically to produce an unnatural heat and amount of butterflies. "Now you're just trying to be nice." Silver bites back; knowing very well thyme won't save the content of the pot, seemingly rather forgotten at the moment; only being mentioned not to make Flint's out of the ordinary approach less nervewrecking for poor Silver. "You know very well that's not how I do it." Flint comments a little amused and Silver is to start arguing; suddenly very keen to have his comapnion admit his soup is not very impressive, when Flint's lips press against the hot skin on Silver's neck. The heart of Silver is doing summersaults behind his rips and the goosebumps spread like wildfire from his neck, down his arms and back. His blue eyes rolls back in their sockets and a bit involuntarily his own hand lands on top of Flint's; still resting on his stomach. "Stop that." Silver sighs; giving away way too easily how much he actually don't want to stop this. "We're not done fighting about my soup." He adds, trying to give off that he's not at all needy on what is about to unravel. Shame he's as good at lying as he is cooking, when Flint have his being twisted around his little finger. "Certainly not." Flint smiles into the kiss planted under Silver's ear; causing mentioned man to fall back into Flint's welcoming embrace. The strong freckled arms lace around the short man and Silver tilts his head back to have a look at Flint, behind him. "But it can surely wait, don't you think?" Flint smiles wryly, white teeth showing. Silver stare into his bright eyes, hooded with the same need surging through his own body and right then; it's so easy to simply give up all his pride and just roll along with it. Silver would do anything for Flint; especially when he's shirtless in their kitchen with soup on his face. "Fuck the soup." Silver groans before pressing his lips against Flints'; not giving a shit about the awkward strain to his neck turned to its limit in an attempt to reach the man behind his back. "Hm." Flint hums into the kiss; his arms twisting with Silvers where they press tightly together; his fingers trying to find the green string keeping silver's apron in place. "Maybe not the soup.." He snickers, gently biting down onto Silver's bottom lip. ____ Like my work? Please show your support ^^,

#black sails #john silver #james flint #silverflint #silverflint oneshot #oneshot #silverflint au #black sails au #ktf black sails

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