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vxiphoid · 11 months

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RAINY REVERIE

❨ summary ❩ obey me › things they would do to cheer you up. hearts and minds have a tendency to break when there are too many thoughts in your head at once, how would they help?

tags ✧ nb!reader, established relationship, reader is going through it😞, slightly suggestive in lucifer’s part?, IM SORRY IF YOU HAVE A CAT ALLERGY (mammon), idol slander, bathing together, itty bitty angst in belphie’s.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ i tried to make the reader a bit different for each brother because people deal with being upset differently… but hello?? theres like 130 of you now, tysm for all of the support, i love you all sm sm :(<33

⌜ 2.5+ ⌟

obey me masterlist

LUCIFER

♫ wishful thinking - benee

╰ he understands more than anyone how stressful school or work can be. doesn’t help that rad piles more shit on as you advance. he’s offered to give you a message, pressing small kisses in his wake before smearing oil onto your skin.

“you did so well today.” lucifer praises gently against your skin, thumbing the junction between your shoulder blades. you sigh contentedly as he massages into your muscles with ease, his fingers brushing your skin in gentle strokes to help ease out the knots and tension that have accumulated over the day. you inhale sharply at the contact, and a small smile quirks up the corners of your mouth when you hear him hum happily at your reaction. “your hands feel good, not that i don’t like the feeling of your gloves, your hands just feel better. i like your hands on me.” you murmur, leaning further back into his touch, basking in his affectionate caress. there was a stutter in lucifer’s movements as he stiffened momentarily before relaxing once more, but it didn’t deter his hand from its progress. “well, i know that… i figured i take my gloves off a lot in your company since you like the feeling of them so much.” he murmurs, sounding slightly embarrassed by his own statement as he continues to massage at your shoulders. he makes sure his thumbs are positioned correctly on either side of your spine, his touch feather light. “i thought this was pure?” you ask teasingly, peering over your shoulder. lucifer gives you an unamused look, pushing harder into the small of your back which elicits another soft sigh from you. “this is pure. you’re tainting it.”

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MAMMON

♫ (your cat) don’t stand a chance - mustard service

╰ last thing he wants is you going to bed angry or upset in any way. even if it isn’t his fault he still feels like he needs to spoil you to make it better? so, he gets you something. in a box, a big box. yk nothing bad, just something he prolly shouldn’t have bought…

“heeey, pretty… so i know you’re having a really bad day ‘n shit but how would you feel if i brought you a cat?” mammon asked, stiffly pushing open his bedroom door with his shoulder, a light looking box in his arms. you eye him, hard. “what’s in the box, mammon.” the mewls of protest from within spoke for itself. when you bursted into his room clearly pissed off, mammon was already on his way out, kissing you and promising he’d be right back he just needed to grab some stuff. by stuff you didn’t think he’d be at the pet store buying a kitten, especially this breed. maine cats are expensive, he even went out of his way to buy toys and the necessities. you thought you would have been mad about it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be as the little baby ran around trying to catch a feather you swung around. the kitten finds rest in mammon’s mess of hair, likes to be carried around in hoodie pockets, and makes biscuits with it’s beans on your back. you couldn’t be mad at all, both the small fur ball and your boyfriend cleared all the stress you had. mammon lied down beside you in the floor, watching you jerk around the stick for the kitten to tail, he rests his head your shoulder. “you feelin’ better?” you nod with a natural smile and he kisses your shoulder. “good.” you say nothing, instead you pull him close and cuddle together on the floor, the kitten pawing mammon’s head before curling up for a nap. you smile, holding out your pinky. “don’t tell satan?” mammon takes your finger, pressing your thumb with his. “‘course not.”

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LEVIATHAN

♫ honey - red hearse

╰ levi was already dressed for a midnight walk when you came in, he figured you needed one too just to clear your mind. helps you put on your shoes and jacket while you rant about how horrible your day was, kisses your cheek while you two leave the house.

your boyfriend treats this like any other day, not in an ignoring way, no. he figures he’d rather listen to your rant then try to see the other person’s (asshole) side. in plus, if you get it all out of your system, you won’t be so pent up. he buys you your regular drink and holds it for you while you express your anger with your hands, bringing the straw to your mouth when you need a pause. “—and it wasn’t even my shift!” you huff, sipping your drink when levi brings it to you. “thank you, i love you. anyways, this bitch—“ you could go on and on for hours and he wouldn’t get tired of hearing your voice. eventually he’d tug you into one of those 24 hour cafes and request an outdoor seating area, preferably where there isn’t people. when your rant seemingly comes to a close, your forehead meets with levi’s shoulder with a heavy sigh. he kisses your crown, “d’you want anything off the menu? they still serve breakfast if you want any.” he smiles when you nod. “thank you for listening, i know that was a lot. ‘just been stressed.” his hand slips into yours, kissing the back of it. “i’m here for you whenever.” and he means it. you know that levi would give you literally anything in the world, he’d do anything for you and the little things only add to how precious he is.

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SATAN

♫ structure - odd sweetheart

╰ satan is a ticking time bomb when he’s mad, he may look okay but one minor inconvenience will send him over the edge. the plus side is that he knows most of the methods that could calm anyone down. those methods are watching really bad shows and their cringy acting.

the click of the spacebar signaled that you paused the show for the ninth time tonight, the silence loud between you and satan as you both stared at the blinding screen. his expression mirrored yours; slightly gaped mouth, squinted eyes, and meeting a glance before they returned to the frozen show. “she didn’t just kiss her husband to be’s brother after having a one night stand with their father…” he said quietly in disbelief. “on her wedding day.” you mumbled, forking around your takeout noodles in its cup. satan opened his mouth and you fed him some, treating yourself quickly afterwards. “y’all would watch anything at this point, kill your producer!” you and satan have been bingeing this horrible romance show for so long you completely forgot what time you even started watching it. its so ridiculous, not worse than idol, but still horrible. satan, on the other hand, was just glad you were enjoying yourself after a soiled day. you catch his eye and grin slightly, “what?” he shrugs with his mouth, turning back to the show. “nothing.” “mm, you want something, what is it?” you prodded again, leaning forward and giving him an inquisitive stare. you were sure you weren’t getting an answer by the way he was twirling his fork, so you leaned into him, brushing his hair away to press a kiss to his jaw, that caught his attention. “thank you, satan. for cheering me up.” you whispered to him sweetly. his lips curled up at the edges. “anything for you, love.” your eyes dart back to the screen after what you thought you saw actually happened. “she’s making out with their dad now?! go back, go back!!”

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ASMODEUS

♫ bad behavior - austin mills & remi wolf

╰ he knew that as soon as you walked into his room silent something was wrong. he just got out of the shower and you hugged him. you hugged him tighter than you usually do, and he noticed. he’s never seen you so deflated, tears filling your lash line. fortunately, asmo knows the perfect way to calm you down.

“okay baby, do you want hot pink or pink?” your eyes flick between the two headbands from your spot on the bathroom counter. you know they’re basically the same color, but it doesn't stop you from trying to guess which one is cuter. “hot pink.” you say finally, nodding in the direction of the headband in asmo’s right hand. “correct answer, you weren’t allowed to choose anything else.” asmo slips on your fuzzy headband and you snort as he carefully adjusted it on your head. “why’d you ask then?” you tease. asmo shrugs, leaning in closer to press a quick kiss under your eye. “so we can match!” after your emotional feeling day, your boyfriend suggested you join him in his skincare to take your mind off of everything for a bit. you agreed immediately, happy at the opportunity. you’ve been so stressed lately, working part time at a small coffee shop near campus while attending classes full time, and not having time to spend quality time with your boyfriend made you feel like you had let him down. you were grateful he was offering to help you out though. asmo’s finger hooked under your chin, using a silicone spatula to smear on a cool peel off mask onto your other cheek. you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and he grins, pecking your lips before getting back to work on your mask. little whisps of champagne hair escaped from his headband, his tongue sticking from the side of his mouth while the mask between his brows crinkled in concentration. asmo always did this whenever he focused particularly hard, so you didn’t interrupt him even if he did start to ramble about something or another. you couldn’t get enough of watching him make himself so at peace with his surroundings. your lips meet his palm gently, and he quickly got the paragraph hidden behind such a small act. “you’re welcome, baby.”

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BEELZEBUB

♫ grey luh - berhana

╰ beel knows that even himself needs a bit of time alone before he’s ready for any interaction so he let’s you have you’re time. while he waits, beel prepares a bath of pure relaxation. scented candles, various different bath bombs, and even one of those bath tables.

you groan exasperatedly as beel lifts you from the warm embrace of your duvets, “i know, i know, i’m sorry. you can go back to bed in a minute…” he assures you, his voice soft and droopy. you’re about to protest but he shushes you by kissing you softly on the lips. “i know you need this.” with that you stop your whining and hum quietly, accepting a loving defeat. you were already starting to nod off against beel’s chest til your nose caught whiff of vanilla and the cold tiles of the bathroom under your feet as he set you down. the bath was filled with crystal clear water, a blue tint shimmering over the liquid due to the relaxing lighting. there were candles and various oils and body washes littering the shelves of the bathtub with a scent that was both sweet and refreshing at the same time. it was almost overwhelming in its complexity but it was also perfect because beel always made sure everything had an effect that would make you happy, calm, relax. “your week has been stressful so i wanted to make you something even it it isn’t a lot.” you smile brightly up at him, eyes shining with love for him despite still having bags underneath them, which he brushes away with another tender kiss. you already began to strip, your bones were aching for warm bubbling water on your skin. “just relax, okay? i’ll take care of you and we can go back to bed after dinner.” you pause just as you dip your leg into the water, “you’re not joining me?” beel blinks at you owlishly, mouth opening and closing a few times as if trying to find words, “you wanted me to join?” you blink back at him, confused until he finally says something intelligible again, “yes? why wouldn’t i want you to join me?” he smiles at you, a small and gentle curve of his lips that you couldn’t help smiling back at him. he wastes no time settling down behind you, your body immediately melting into his, the heat radiating out of him and warming you up like never before. “better?” he questions, hand rubbing your back soothingly, his other arm wrapped snugly around your waist. your head rested on his shoulder, arms loosely wrapping around his own torso. “absolutely. thank you.”

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BELPHEGOR

♫ valentina - dreamer isioma

╰ usually naps off his anger or sadness, basically letting it build up silently, naps do help him but he knows that naps won’t erase anybody’s pain in, like, two hours. belphie makes you a little care package; essential oils, sugar scrub, candles, sweets, blanket, plushies, melatonin gummies for the sleepless nights, headphones, etc… it was a rare sight seeing belphie out of bed and productive, instead your roles being swapped.

the attic’s stairs creaked as belphie ascended to where you were curled up on his bed. he approaches slowly, stretching his neck out a bit to check if you were sleeping. fortunately, you were not. “hey, babe? i got you something…” belphie muttered. you turned your head slightly, the glow from your d.d.d illuminating your face. belphie sat down next to you, laying out what was clearly a care package on a bedside table. the colors were subtle, a nice slightly desaturated blue with white accents for bows on the bag, few constellations littered the design. “you didn’t need to waste your money on me, belph.” you sigh, holding his face in your hand, belphie leans into your touch. “it wasn’t a waste. you’ve worked so hard.” he smiles as he kisses your palm. “plus, nothing’s a waste if its for you.” there was some static in the room, it made the atmosphere even more intimate. belphie rests his head against yours, taking a deep breath in. you smelled nice, and belphie felt immensely calm. “do you want anything else, hun? i could cook dinner…” belphie trails off, rubbing circles onto your arm. he feels you shake your head, “you’re more than enough. i’ll open the gift in a second, promise, just need you.” belphie kisses the top of your head, resting his cheek on top of it. there was static again, the feeling only growing more prominent as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “i love you.” you turn slightly to face belphie, placing your lips against his, they were soft, sweet, and tasted like honey and vanilla. you felt the tension plaguing your body ebb away, you relaxed into your lover. belphie pulls back, pressing another chaste kiss on your forehead, “i love you the most.”

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wildemaven · 1 year

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A Cut Above

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Hairstylist!Reader

WC: 2680

Warnings: T; Mentions of food, divorce, lots of pining and fluff otherwise.

A/N: I wanted to write a Hairstylist!Reader story a few years ago, but l wasn’t feeling super confident about my writing and just never got around to it. In the last few months I’ve had this urge to get back behind the chair again, which is what sparked this fic. Still haven’t decided if I will get back into doing hair as of yet, but I can enjoy writing about it. This is not beta’d and hope it reads well cause I’ve been run low sleep. Enjoy!!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist / Next

“You done for the day?”

The question pulls you from your thinking. It’s an organized chaos of mental notes streaming through your subconscious.

“I wish. I have one more then I’m done. It’s a new client too. So I’ll be a bit longer.”

“Color?”

“No, thank god! I don’t think my feet can take another 2 to 3 hours more.” The day was filled with back to back clients— a typical Saturday in the salon. Your clients who worked long hours, were always filling up your Saturdays. “Just a cut. Benny made the appointment for him, said his friend was in need of a change— very vague about it”

“Mmm.. Benny.”

“Earth to Hannah!! Gonna need you to touch back down girlie.” Hannah was the salon receptionist, and Benny Miller’s secret admirer.

“Huh? Oh sorry, got a bit distracted.”

“You don’t say? You know, you could just ask him out, would probably be way more exciting than sitting there and daydreaming about him 24/7.”

“I do not daydream about him 24/7–“ She tries convincing you, but you know her far too well. You shoot her a pointed look— you’re not buying it. “Okay! Alright, I do think about him— a lot! But I can’t help it, he’s so…”

“Pretty?” You finish her thought.

“Yeah. He’s so pretty.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that said Pretty Man Child Benny, might have an itty bitty crush on a cute little receptionist. So, put your big girl panties on and make a move.”

Benjamin Miller— Benny, was a long time client of yours, turned friend. He was in your chair every 5 weeks maintaining that gorgeous head of hair. Gotta look good for the ladies when I’m in the ring— his words.

As the years went on, you found you were collecting Benny’s friends and family as clients. His older brother Will, Will’s wife Nicole, his close friend Pope (still haven’t heard his real name), as well as Mom and Dad Miller. Benny kept your chair busy and you were grateful for that.

He’d text you on Monday saying he’d had a friend who was needing a cut, something about a fresh start. He was in luck because you had one spot open, so you scheduled some guy named “Fish” as your last client for the week.

“Wait really?! He knows who I am?!” Shock was written all over Hannah’s face.

“Hannah, you greet him every appointment— of course he knows who you are.”

“I think I black out the minute he walks through the door.”

“That would explain the drool every time.” You can’t help but laugh at her expense.

She rolls her eyes back at you as she gathers her things from the front desk. “Alright, I’m going to leave before you decide to carry on with this onslaught of nonsense. Going to go home and pour myself a glass of wine in celebration!”

“Celebration?? For what?”

“Benny Miller knows who I am! And he has a crush on me!!” You let her bask in her glory, as she all but floats to the front door.

“Hannah…” You catch her attention before she’s exits. “Text him! Preferably before the wine.”

“Yes mom!” She mocks back at you before the door swings shut.

You had 15 minutes until your appointment would be showing up, so you took the time to clean your station up a bit and set up for his hair cut.

Your shears, combs and clippers laid out on your hair cutting tray, clean cape folding on top of your station.

As you were checking over your schedule for next week, making a list of colors you needed to pick up from the beauty supply, the front door opened welcoming your client— your very handsome client.

He looks nearly 6 feet tall, and so broad. His hair is dark chestnut from what you can see peeking out from under his hat. There’s a casualness to him in the way he carries himself— a shy confidence.

“Hi! You must be Fish.” You give him your name as you make your way up to him, extending your hand out in greeting. His rather large hand gripping yours, firm but a gentleness to it.

“Did he really tell you my name is Fish?! Fuckin’ Benny.” He shakes his head, as if to fain off embarrassment. Shoving his hands in his pockets he starts laughing about it. “Yeah, he did. I am assuming that’s not actually your name though. Although, not judging if it is.”

“No, my name is Francisco Morales, but you can call me Frankie.” You notice the flush creeping up his neck— you make a mental note at how gorgeous he is before you get caught staring.

“Okay then, Frankie. You can come on back and have a seat here at my chair. Feel free to put your hat on my shelf there.” Helping him get situated.

“Let me go grab a clean towel and then we can chat about what you are wanting.”

Frankie sits himself down and starts to take in the space. You seem very tidy and organized as he glances over at your tray of cutting tools. He right away decides he likes that about you. Benny didn’t mention how beautiful you were when making him this appointment. He said you were pretty but he wasn’t expecting to be overwhelmed by how stunning you were— he knows he has to try his best to be cool and not ramble on.

He sees you making your way back to him in the mirror, his eyes locked on yours like magnets— he notices you catching him staring, but then you give him a smile that lights up your face. There’s that butterfly sensation tickling his insides, he hasn’t had that happen in a long time, but he welcomes it.

Arriving back to your station you take the small towel and place it on his shoulders before securing the cutting cape around his neck.

“So what are we thinking?” You ask as you begin to run your fingers through his hair, taking in the texture, density and the shape of the cut he has now.

“Uhh, I umm… I don’t know. I’m open to your professional opinion.” He didn’t realize he needed to come in with a style in mind. His usual barber usually says “Hi” then starts hacking at it.

“That’s okay.” You look at him in your mirror, his eyes already fixed on you and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

You hadn’t noticed his dimple earlier, and you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of it when he smiles. You steady your thoughts and continue to comb your fingers through his hair making note of how it lays and it’s natural growth pattern.

“You have a nice wave going on. If we work with it and bring your sides and the back in a little tighter the top will lay nicely.”

He’s captivated by everything you’re saying, and yet he doesn’t understand a single word of it. You could tell him he needed to shave his head and he’d willingly let you, no questions asked.

“How does that sound Frankie??”

“Honestly— I have no idea what any of what you just said means, but I trust you.”

“Well, I appreciate your honesty.” You find his nervousness charming. “You won’t be losing much length overall, it will be more shaping and connecting the sides to the top.” Your hands moving around his head as you try to explain your process.

“Again— no clue what you just said.”

“Got it! Enough hair jargon then. Let’s get you back and washed up first.”

The warm water hides the sweat that’s formed on your palms as you begin washing his hair. He’s settled into the shampoo bowl, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest in such a kicked back manner.

Your fingers work diligently as you begin to scrub the soapy liquid through his wet locks. As you spend ample time working over his scalp, you catch the sound of a faint moan. You don’t think he meant for it to sound so erotic, but it’s stirring a warm feeling with in you.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmhmmm..” It’s all he’s able to manage, your movements awakening him in so many ways, his spine vibrating with an indescribable desire.

Suds throughly rinsed, leave in conditioner combed through, you both get situated back at your station.

He seems way more relaxed, more chatty and asking questions as you go section by section, meticulously trimming away the unwanted ends.

His questions alternated between your professional life and personal— where you grew up, favorite food and what made you decide to become a hairstylist. In a different circumstance, it might have felt invasive— but there was an ease to Frankie that had you spilling your life story to him so freely.

In return you asked him for more about himself. He shared about his life in Delta Force, where he had met Benny, Will and Pope, who you now know as Santiago.

His life as a helicopter pilot keeping him busy most of the time. He even felt brave enough to mention his semi recent divorce. You didn’t feel like you needed to delve deeper into his failed marriage, especially for only just meeting him.

You shared the same sentiment in working long hours and how it had you feeling overwhelmed at times, like you had less free time for yourself— mentioning you were working on trying to have more fun and go out. You shared how your former partners were always annoyed with you for being so consumed with work, the main reason you hadn’t been dating as much.

Checking and cross checking the length, you’re happy with how it’s shaping up.

“How do you normally style your hair? What are your go to products?”

He looks at you with the most sincere and confused expression, nervous to share his routine with you.

“Normally it’s just straight out of the shower, quick rubbing of the towel over it so it’s not dripping, then toss the hat on.” Pointing to the battered hat he’d worn in.

“Frankie! If there’s only one piece of advice you leave here with, please let it be that you never aggressively rub a towel over your hair again!”

He thinks he should feel embarrassed but there’s a sweetness in the way you share your knowledge with him— he will make a conscientious effort to gently pat his hair dry from now on.

“Since you mentioned you are usually throwing on your hat, it’s probably safe to assume there’s not much actual styling going on?”

“Uh, yeah… Not much styling. The least amount of steps possible is my go to method.”

“While the hat vibe is cute, I would not be doing my job if I sent you out of here wearing—”

“You think I’m cute?” He cuts you off. That dimple again making an appearance, his grin slightly laced in flirtation.

“Umm, yes.” Your face feels hot, the blow-dryer not helping much, as you try to remain calm and collected.

“Hm!”

Grabbing some product and applying a small amount to your palm, you begin to distribute it throughout his hair. .

“But I think without the hat is cute too. Easier to see all of your,” You gulp at your next admission. “Attractive features.” You giggle as you finish styling his freshly trimmed hair, each strand manipulated with such precision— the new length really does add to his handsomeness.

“You think I’m attractive too?” He says shifting in the chair, his gaze still steady on you.

“Oh wow, I’m really just letting my internal monologue run my mouth aren’t I?”

He shrugs with the slightest cock of his eyebrows in response.

“And now would be a good time for the ground to just swallow me up!” You groan, hands covering your face as you attempt to hide your embarrassment.

“You’re cute when you get all flustered.”

“So you think I’m cute now? We just going to spend the rest of the night confessing our new found feelings having only just met?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He states so casually.

The rest of his appointment is filled with more flirtatious banter, a connection that you’re both very much aware of— yet neither of you stating the obvious

“Thank you again.” Frankie says holding a bag of products he insisted he leave with, wanting to branch out from his usual “hat vibe”’as you called it— said hat’s bill tucked into the back pocket of his already snug blue jeans.

“So… Do you want to set something up for next time?” Pulling out your schedule, hoping that Frankie likes his cut, and you, enough to return regularly. “I think 5 to 6 weeks would be a good amount of time to see you again.”

“Actually— I was hoping I could see you sooner than that.”

“Oh! Okay. When are you thinking?” Slightly confused, you start scanning over the openings you have in the coming weeks.

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?? I’m not follow— Oh! Ooooh!”

“Yeah….” There’s a budding nervous energy about him as you realize what he’s asking. “There’s this sports bar around the corner— the guys and I hang out there from time to time. Anyways, they have some great appetizers and craft beer on tap… If you’re open to it, we could, um go… Unless you have other plans…”

“Yes! I’d love to Frankie.”

“Yeah?!” His face instantly beaming with excitement.

“Yeah! Just let me clean and lock up real quick, then we can head out.”

Drinks and appetizers flowed into a moonlit walk back to your car— both of you stalling out your goodbyes.

“So, I’ll call you tomorrow.” Frankie says as his hand cups your cheek, his warm gaze fixed on yours. “I hope this isn’t too soon, but would it be okay if I kissed you?”

“Yeah.. I’d like that.” Leaning into him to close the gap, fingers carding through the nape of his silky waves.

Frankie’s lips all but crash into yours, the intensity growing from your own, eager for more of him. He nips at the plumpness of your lower lip, encouraging them to part for him. His tongue slipping inside your mouth and you can taste the bitterness from his beer still lingering.

A grip is established on your hip, his hand slowly moving around to your backside eliciting a breathy moan from deep with in you as the heated kiss escalates.

Laughter from a rowdy group of bystanders reminds you both of your surroundings.

“Sorry, I got a little carried away there.” Frankie rests his forehead on yours as he tries to regain his composure, his breath fanning across your cheeks— they’re no longer cold from the frigid air.

“Well, I most certainly wasn’t complaining. In fact, I look forward to you doing it again sometime.”

He places a kiss to your forehead, before exchanging goodbyes. He promises again to call tomorrow, and you’re already breathlessly excited for it.

Heater cranked up in your car, willing your body to adjust to the heat. You grab for your phone in your purse, pulling open your message app so you can send a quick text before putting the car in drive.

-Hey Benny, just wanted to thank you for setting that appointment up for Frankie. He’s a great guy! Super funny and hella charming.

-You sure we’re talking about the same Frankie?? 😉

-Funny! Anyways, I appreciate it and I’m looking forward to seeing him again!

-Oh! Hannah called, we’ve got a date next week!

-You be good to her Benny!

-Of course! No problem! Make sure you and Frankie thank me in your wedding toast 🍾🍾 Night!!

You roll your eyes at his last text before tossing your phone in to the passenger seat. The entire drive home you can’t get Frankie out of your head, wondering if he’d find you too eager to call him when you got home.

The decision made for you by the buzzing of your phone— Frankie’s name flashing on the screen.

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #triple frontier #wildemaven writes #pedro pascal

396 notes · View notes

defectivefanboy · 1 year

Note

(the one who asked for the oral hcs,,) AFAB male reader please !! hence why i didn't specify fems.

Thank you for responding! I realized afterwards (and from a commenter) that AFAB doesn't always mean fem reader, but my little itty bitty pea brain couldn't register anything else in the moment, Sorry 'bout that.

It may seem a bit OOC or something Crimson might not even do ,, but can we get some cunnilingus hcs with Crimson x AFAB s/o???

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and while I don't mind female readers on my blog/interacting, love my girlies, hey girlies~, but I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer. fuck off??? ew. How would you even do that on an x reader???

C/W: Cunnilingus, Possessive Crimson, slight voyerism?? (sorry al), mentions of overstimulation, Degrading

Notes: this took a bit longer to write, and I low-key feel like it's dry. Im still a bit shy with smut and NSFW, other then that I hope you enjoy

Cunnilingus with Crimson...

never thought I would ever write that...

I'm just surprised as he is on how you two got here.

Let's state the facts he'll NEVER be on his knees, opting to have you placed upon the closest desk, table, shit even a tall wall. Anything he can find.

Other than the fact he's an old man and probably has bad knees. He's still believes he's took good for that.

He'll save that for his darling. You do look better down there anyway. <3

Continuing on....

He started off the day as a man hungry for power, guess he never met you.

It's like he's a starved man when he sets you upon the table, head tucked between your legs.

That high class and expensive front he puts on for show is stripped down to a sloppy mess.

His face is covered in your cum as his eyes roll into the back of his head.

I don't know who's pleasure he's doing it for anymore, yours or his

He will say it for yours as he forces another orgasm out of you, wiping his cheek on your thigh with a sly smirk,

"Tsk, look at the mess you made. Now who do you think is gonna have to clean this up? You need to be taught a lesson, brat..."

"taught a lesson" he says as he drives right back down between your legs, his tongue happily taking its place inside you once again.

And if you grab his horns to pull him closer, better not have anything planned for the rest of the day... or two.

You're just telling him to indulge himself in you, and who is he to say no.

Especially when the roll of your hips on his face contradicts the pleads for him to take a break or slow down.

Sorry, my love that's simply not possible.

Not when he just started jerking himself off as he licks you clean after another orgasm.

Oh he definitely keeps your underwear.

He’s a major pervert. Im sorry, but sir why do you know where to get an abundance of dildos? And who just INSTALLED WITHOUT QUESTION??

So remember to keep in mind every time he slips them off you. They will just end up in his pocket...

and if he doesn’t have pockets well, he’ll just hand them to Alessio, his right hand man/body guard.

“No need to worry about him, doll. He’s just here to make sure no can interrupt us.~ Isn’t that that right, Alessio.”

The shark would keep his eyes on the door, even the mob bosses right hand man wasn’t allowed to sneak a peak.

Last time that happened Crim almost lost a right hand man.

Crimson’s a greedy man, but if you were to ask either Al or you, he was a glutton.

and it seems the two became the perfect mix when it came to his darling.

All he needed you to do is to sit there and look pretty for him. You'll behave for him, right?

His only issue is he make it a priority to ruin you the minute you walk into his line of sight.

After all this mob work he deserves to have some down time, yeah?

Better not have worn anything that cost too much, he's not patient enough to have you to let you slip out of what your wearing.

He rather just rip what ever covers your body off instead.

You did get all dressed up for him didn’t you? He should be allowed to unwrap his gift in anyway he sees fit.

all you have to do is spread your legs for him, just for a little bit won't you? You don’t even have to get him off… at least not right now <3

Though, he’s not keen on asking twice and he’ll definitely not gonna beg.

If you tease him enough, a growl will rumble from his the back of throat as his gold tooth makes itself known.

But when he finally gets you, the grip on your thighs leave an angry bruise in its wake.

Two of his fingers slipping into your plush walls, while he gets lost in thought sucking on his favorite bundle of nerves.

And while this is all happening he'll stare up at you with a degrading look.

"Is that really all it takes for you to submit to me? A few fingers in you and you finally shut up for once. What a spoiled brat you are."

#foolish writing #request open #helluva boss #Hb crimson #crimson x reader #helluva boss crimson #helluva boss exes and oohs #request

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kamenridercorn · 9 months

Text

I'm a Teeny Bit Stressed Lately

So I kinda need somewhere to word vomit that isn't directly to friends or family or even like...a Discord server because lately I am just kinda always losing it

It really all just comes down to time and money

My family has... technically enough money rn

Our bills are paid, we are fed, hey maybe we even have an itty bit to treat ourselves

But largely

We are just scraping by

We are about to have our second child

We have pets

We have a house

And all of those are inherently positive things

But the stress of having money for it all is insane

Especially when my wife works in healthcare and I work at a fucking LGS and somehow I make more money

And there's no feasible career changes in the future

My wife wants to work in EMS, but she can't progress til she has time for more classes

And honestly?

I have an arts degree that I have basically had to accept was a mistake and I just don't have anything to fall back on

Being a homeowner is just stress at this point

Like....like I know on paper it's better than renting

But right now it just feels more expensive and also all the problems are our responsibility now

Nevermind that the house has unfinished work that was supposed to be done by other people are ready

Get everything in writing folks, even if it's family

And at a smaller level

I have no money for any of my hobbies

And no time to put towards the things I DO have

I never see my friends anymore, because we're all real adults now and everyone is juuuuust far enough to make hanging out casually hard

I'm so behind on games and shows and painting and just.... everything

And I need those things

I love my wife and my daughter so fucking much and I can't wait for our new baby

But I need the stuff that's just for me too

And it's just....maybe if it was ONLY money or ONLY time

But it's all of it

I don't have my escapism, and real life fucking demands it lately

And yeah I get it. We're lucky to have a house. We chose to be parents. I don't think this all happened to us without any of our agency

But all of that is done in the pursuit of happiness and fulfillment

I understand it's not all easy

I just need to feel like it's going to finally settle at some point

Like everyday isn't a reminder of financial chokehold or suffocating from all the tasks we have to complete just to function

It's so hard to find a moment to pause. Whether that's on my own or in conjunction with my family

And I have no time to work on myself

Before the wedding, I was trying to finally get a diagnosis for ADHD, something that had always been out of reach because my parents are very anti-mental health is still medical

But I couldn't get in with a therapist and now I just can't afford it

And like....I know the world is on fire around me

I know

I am not suffering like so many others

My existence is not threatened by merely existing

But at the micro scale of my own life

I feel like I'm flailing in the dark

#corn thoughts #corn vents

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gatortoe · 3 years

Text

How to make a weighted plush furby (1998 / 2012, boom)

(This tutorial is generalized for both the 1998 and 2012 / furby boom so it will not include process pictures nor will it detail how to close up the faceplate or ears on your furby. I will however provide links to some tutorials for getting you to the point where this one picks up below. Make sure you keep the base of your furby as it will be important later.

Note: The 1998s are easier to skin and prepare for stuffing then the 2012s but the 2012s are often cheaper. Consider your skill level (in my case patience) and financial situation before attempting this project as the plastic beans needed to give the furby extra weight are more expensive than the regular polyfill, and you can get a more polished look with a new in/with box 2012 furby. Or you can be like me and throw caution to the wind. Whatever works for you)

1998

2012/Boom

One of my favorite types of Furbies are those itty bitty spaced out furby buddies. For me they are too small to be much use for stimming and none of their face parts move but the bean bag center has always given these fellows a wonderful little bit of weight. This had me wondering if I could make a full size furby with a bean bag core. Turns out it is much easier than it looks and all you need is some extra fabric of any color, the base of your furby, some weighted pellets for use in your bean bag, and a small amount of polyfill. I personally used the polyfill plastic pellets since they were easy to pick up at my local Walmart. I'd recommend using whatever is convenient or cheapest but you can get heavier beans out there.

The first thing you're going to need is the furby you intend to to turn into a plush. This particular tutorial will work for any 1998 adult, baby or 2012 furby/boom. Be sure to keep the base as this will come in handy later.

Follow the respective tutorial for pushifying your particular furby up until the point where you need to begin to sew up the butt.

Set your furby aside for now.

Using scrap fabric cut two squares roughly the same width but never bigger than the base of your furby. Using the plastic base that came with them is a useful measuring tool for this.

Pin the two squares together and sew up three of the four sides. Make sure your seams are tight so that none of the beans can't escape their soul prison.

Invert the fabric so that your seam allowances are on the inside and add your beans, making sure to add only enough to give the bag shape and weight while still allowing it to deform and move semi-freely. Just enough for it to be a proper bean bag but not enough that you're making a mess when you're sewing it up. Beans do not compress like polyfill.

Note: It is not necessary to turn your bean bag inside out and use a ladder stitch to close it up if it does not bother you. The bean bag is going to be inside the furby and not visible but it bothered me so I chose to turn the bag inside out for a more finished look. Do what makes you happy in life, dude.

Once you have added your beans turn the bag sideways so that the seam is facing you and sew close across the top of the bag going across that seam. Once done you should have a functional bean bag perfect for pelting your siblings or giving your furby a core of beans.

And speaking of your furby, it's time to bring them back!

Make a "nest" for your bean bag inside their skull by laying down a layer of regular polyfill at the top of the head. If you have a furby boom I would recommend adding extra stuffing around the faceplate as this era of furbies have larger face plates that poke further into the middle of the furby then the original 1998s.

Stuff around the bean bag to your desired firmness and set your furby aside one last time. You will see them again real soon.

Again using your base trace a circle around it using your remainder scrap fabric. If you have a furby boom or 2012 and you have the original box you can use the scrap fabric in the top of the box to sew up the butt for a more polished look.

I would recommend giving yourself a large seam allowance and making sure your trace lines are clearly marked. It can be a little bit difficult to sew up the bottom but I find the best method is a combination of pins and ample ladder stitching.

Voila! You now have a weighted plush furby! Enjoy your very shaped friend and give them lots of pets!

(P.s If you use this tutorial and have any progress pics please send them to me so that I might include them in an updated tutorial. I will be sure to credit.)

#furby #safe furby #custom furby #furblr #furby community #solace #plush furby #tutorial #1998 furby #2012 furby #furby Boom

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xhanisai · 3 years

Note

got any Lovesquare headcanons for any AUs you havent had the chance to work on in a while?

Actually, I do! Remember the really old doodles I did of Chibi Noir and Chibi Bug?

This Chibi AU is something I’ve always wanted to expand on as a comic but never got the chance to do so- I may go off tangent here lel

- They are equivalent to sprites/chao/fairy. They suddenly appeared in Marinette’s and Adrien’s life after they’ve been working as heroes for a while solely because their love for each other is SO strong, that the magic was able to create these chibis.

- They are no bigger than a newborn baby but they are still quite a challenge to hide from other people. They make only little sounds; Chibi Noir meows like a kitten and Chibi Bug only hums quietly. The latter is so much more shy and quiet than the former.

- Chibi Noir appeared first in Marinette’s room because Adrien has deep down inside, acknowledged his romantic feelings for her which are on the same par as his feelings for Ladybug. Of course, Marinette was freaked out at first but she was quick to fall for Chibi Noir’s cuteness and pretty much adopted him as her own son/pet? The only explanation that Tikki gave for the being’s existence is that it’s because Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s partnership is very, very strong. (She’ll give the full explanation after the reveal).

- Marinette has named him Chaton Noir and loves him a lot. He’s very attached to her, a glutton for sweets and loves cuddling her. He also hates that he has to hide away from other people and would sometimes cause trouble. Basically an equivalent to a naughty kitten. Regardless, Marinette can’t stay mad at him for long and is thankful that he’s there with her.

- Marinette also has no choice but to bring him along to akuma fights and patrols because a) Chaton wouldn’t let her leave him alone and would cling to her leg with watery eyes, b) If she did leave him alone at home, there’s 100% chance that he would be found out by her parents or that he’d sneak out looking for her and get lost.

- So, the night after Chaton appeared, Ladybug brought him with her to patrol to meet her partner and explain what’s been going on. Chat’s first reaction:

“...WE HAVE A KID!? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE!?!?? MON DIEU- I have no idea how to be a Papa! I haven’t even done any research and I don’t even know how to change nappies and-”

“Chat Noir-”

“-I will also cover every expense fee and love him the way he deserves-”

“Ch-aaaaat-”

“-And I will also most definitely look for a job but I also don’t mind being a stay at home dad- hey wait! I could be a stay at home dad, Buguinette-”

“CHAT NOIR.”

- Of course, Ladybug finally corrects him and explains what really happened. At first, Chat is awed by Chaton’s existence and marvels about how cool all of this is, however, he does start to get irritated with how close and sweet the being was with Ladybug. He’s even miffed by the fact that he doesn’t have his own Chibi rendition of his Lady.

- Chaton Noir is also a little shit and loves teasing Chat Noir and riling him up. They have a love-hate dynamic.

“Why does HE get to kiss you and get kisses in return???”

“Because he’s cute and I love him,”

“I’m cute too! Why don’t you love me!? ;A; ”

“My Lady, he stuck his tongue out at me!”

“So? Just ignore him,”

“MY LADY!?”

“Bug...You let HIM take a bath with YOU!?!? WHAT!?!?!”

“Your point?”

“OH I HAVE A MILLION POINTS TO MAKE!”

- Chaton Noir helps out a tad during akuma battles. Though he’s not capable of any sort of power, he can distract the villains. No matter how many times Ladybug tries to keep him in a place where it’s safe, he always runs out to try and help. Many times, he ends up in trouble and gets saved by Chat Noir. So just imagine an annoyed Chat leaping away with the Chibi held by the crook of his arm lmao.

- It’s only a few weeks after Chaton Noir’s appearance does Chibi Bug finally come to life (this is because Marinette is no longer in denial of her feelings for her partner). Adrien wakes up to the sight of an annoyed Plagg and the new Chibi fast asleep on his pillow. It took the boy everything to not squeal out loud like an obsessed fangirl.

“Plagg! I finally have a daughter!”

“You know that’s not how it works, kid.”

“I’m gonna name her Baby Bug!”

“...You better not give her any of MY cheese.”

- When Baby Bug finally woke up, she was quick to run away and hide from Adrien’s super excited face. He didn’t give up. He managed to coax her out with his hidden stash of sweets and she allowed him to pet her hair. At that moment, Adrien dramatically vowed that he would die for her, ignoring Plagg’s grumbles on “I never saw you pledging that to ME, a literal GOD.”

- Despite Plagg’s annoyances at first, he too fell for the Chibi and also vowed that he’d protect her no matter what. This happened because whilst he was eating cheese mid-air, he accidentally dropped it, only for Baby Bug to catch it and give it back to him.

- Baby Bug is very well behaved, full of affection, loves to draw and create. She also has a strange habit of eating flowers (especially if they’re full of aphids). She does have a mischievous side, especially with her impromptu hide and seek games and “borrowing” Adrien’s belongings (mainly his phone UwU).

- She hates Gabriel Agreste. She hates how upset he makes Adrien so whenever Gabe is mentioned or if she hears him or sees him, she pulls a face.

- Chat Noir obviously couldn’t wait to show her off to Ladybug. They met up at a late patrol with Chat arriving like a proud father.

“Miau, My Lady! Meet our daughter!”

“Chat, how many times do I have to tell you that THAT’S not how it works- oh- Oh! Oh wow! She’s so cute!!!”

“I know right!?”

“Mon Dieu she is so adorable!!!”

“YES! Her name is Baby Bug!”

“SO CUTE!”

- Chaton Noir is a bit confused with all of this at first, even gets stupidly jealous with seeing Ladybug fawning over someone else that’s not him to the point where he hisses at Baby Bug. The little shit makes her cry.

“Why you!? My Lady, you need to teach YOUR son some manners- hmmph!”

“Quoi!? Why don’t you teach YOUR daughter to stop being a crybaby!? It was only an itty bitty hiss!”

- Thankfully, Ladynoir quickly settles their bickering after they realised how silly they were being. Baby Bug manages to win Chaton Noir over by sharing a macaron with him.

- She regrets it now. He’s never stopped fawning over her and chasing her for a hug since then.

“Awww, don’t you think they remind you of us~?”

“They do, especially when I’m trying to get away from your terrible jokes, Minou~ :)”

“You love my jokes and you know it! >:(”

- During akuma battles, even Baby Bug refuses to sit still in a safe space and runs out to help Ladynoir. A lot of it is just keeping Chaton Noir out of trouble, however.

- Both Chibis also go to school with their holders, hiding in their school bags. They don’t like to be alone.

I think I went a bit overboard with this lmao...if you want a reveal with this AU or a different AU, feel free to ask lol :’D

#my asks #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #chibi au #my au #miraculous au #chibi noir #chibi bug #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #i know you wanted lovesquare but my brain just went LADYNOIR LADYNOIR

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paynnincorporated · 3 years

Text

Comic Design Notes

I just wanted to share the bits and bobs of DB lore that I injected into this comic because I’m quite proud/happy with it!

You miiiiight need to read my notes on Word/Zulay’s BG first here.

First panel is of course taken from this illustration of Sun City! Paynn Inc is mentioned to be built from all the way down in Down City, spanning all the way up into Sun City.

It’s also canon that Paynn Inc tower is the tallest! Lmao at the egotistical power couple. But also, at this stage in their lives and young Moordryd’s early beginnings, Word and Zulay were at the height of their lives, literally and figuratively, until tragedy struck.

Second panel is of course, Paynn Inc tower itself. I had to design the pinnacle myself, based off what we get shown in canon. The other reference to moons is to Draconis’ two moons, Drakkus and Abandonn. Weather references to Sun City refer to how there’s proper sunlight there and an actual night sky when the sun sets. Meanwhile Down City and the lower levels are always in the dark. With Shadow Town and Work Town above it, the only “sky” you’d have would be the smog and ember of factories.

Third page features from left to right: Gear, All City Races, Word/Zulay’s marriage, Zulay’s leadership in the DEs. First panel includes some red thruster gear and I think one of the mines. Second panel is Zulay’s dragon, that I designed, named Addyr. I hold onto the HC that Word was never a renown racer because he got kicked out, like he said.

Fourth page feature’s Word’s new crown and hands. Crown is HCed to be hearing aides post losing his hearing to the explosion that killed Zulay. His fingers are canonically destroyed in the process. 32km from the ground refers to how tall Dragon City is from Old City.

Page five is just a view of Sun City. Page six features a snippet of Old City’s ruins/the Wastelands, which is the very bottom of Dragon City ofc. I added little Star Flowers which are found there.

Nothing much to say about the following pages besides general comic art to hit home that Moord is both Word and Zulay’s child borne out of love, and genuinely wanting to start a family. Page 9 is filling Moordryd’s room with a looooot of Dragon City themed baby toys and crib. They were stinking rich evil overlords with a literal castle spanning several kilometers. If Word didn’t spend every expense for his son, then Zulay would’ve. There are some itty bitty references to the Down City Crews and Dragons there but this little bit is my favourite haha. Evil but extremely happy family ;u;

Last page features a Decepshun Plushie. She’s said to be Zulay’s dragon, which I like to interpret to mean a dragon bred and gifted to Moordryd. Wouldn’t be far off to also have a plushie of her made, until the kid can actually handle baby Decepshun.

#rambles #welp

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mrsbarnes99 · 4 years

Text

The meaning of age and time

Pairing: Modern!CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are in a happy relationship but the comments of others about your agepap get to him and he starts wondering if you two are really suited for each other.

Warnings: Angst, big agegap (Reader is 23 and Bucky is 40)

Word Count: 1853 words

A/N: Here's a little one shot I came up with. I hope you like it. This is my first try at writing something and English is not my first language so please be kind.

You and Bucky had been together for almost a year and you‘ve never been happier in your life. He was the kind of boyfriend every girl hoped for: loving, charming, caring, funny and a bit dorky. But although you two were very in love and had been living together for a few months, there was one aspect that seemed to cause more and more problems. At first you never thought much about your agegap because you didn‘t deem it a problem in any way. But there had been situations in which you felt like Bucky was having some issues with the fact that you are significantly younger than him.

You first noticed it a couple of weeks ago when you two went out for some coffee in the afternoon.

Eversince the new cupcake shop down the street from your apartment had opened you wanted to try it out. So one Sunday you convinced Bucky - by convincing you mean giving your boyfriend a serious case of puppy dog eyes - to go there after taking a walk together. Bucky had always loved these little dates the two of you would go on practically all the time as Sam would say. This time though you noticed that Bucky was uncomfortable and kept glancing at everyone around you. Almost as if he was checking if they were looking at you two.

"Buck, if you don‘t want to stay we can take some cupcakes back home."

You were very surprised about the relief on Buckys face after telling him this but you figured that he was just exhausted and wanted to relax at home after a grueling week at work. Especially because everything seemed fine again once you had left the shop.

The second time that Bucky was all of a sudden in a bad mood was when Sam kept teasing Bucky with his "old age". Normally Bucky would just roll his eyes and start making jokes about Sam as well. Sometimes they would get so competitive that it almost seemed like a match. But this time Bucky just blew up.

"Y/N, grandpa here is really turning you into a homebody. When was the last time you went to a club with us?"

"I canceled one t-" "What is your problem Birdbrain!? Can‘t you just mind your own damn business for once?" You were shocked at how angry Bucky was and that he‘d just interrupt you like that.

"Cool it, Buckaroo or you might have a heart attack." Sam kept mocking. While glaring at him Bucky got up from his chair and then just stomped out of the café and back to his office. You and Sam just looked at each other confused. Neither of you understood why this would bring such a reaction out of him. After giving Bucky some time to calm down you went looking for him but he didn‘t go back to his office as you had presumed. So you went to his assistant and asked her where Bucky went to. "He left to see Mr. Rogers in his office to go over some contracts, Ms. Y/L/N."

You weren‘t sure if you should go up to Steve‘s office or not but decided to just knock and see if they were almost done. As you were standing infront of Steve‘s door you heard Bucky‘s voice "You don‘t understand Steve! I just don‘t know how to ignore it!" What was Bucky talking about? Ignore what? You were curious and kept on listening to their conversation.

"It was never a problem before. What changed?" "You just don‘t get it, Steve! Do you know how weird it is to feel how everyone around is watching you thinking what does he want with her? Can‘t he find someone his age? That poor girl he‘s probably just using her to feel young again. Why are they together they have nothing in common?" You felt a tear slide down your cheek. Why didn‘t Bucky tell you about his feelings concerning the agegap the two of you have? You decided it was better to go back to Bucky‘s office and wait there until he comes back to talk about everything. You didn‘t have to wait long. Bucky was back half an hour later and seemed to be in a better mood but once he saw your sad face he got concerned. "What happened, doll? Have you been crying?" "No. Actually, yes a bit." "Why?" Bucky sat down beside you and pulled you towards himself hugging you. "Ms. Romanoff told me you were with Steve so I went to his office and I overheard you guys talking. When were you going to tell me that my age bothered you so much?" You could see that Bucky was struggling thinking about how best to answer your question.

"Look, doll. I have always known that our relationship would raise some brows but that never bothered me until I heard some women talk about us." "When was that?" "That day at the cupcake shop." "So that‘s why you wanted to leave. But why does it bother you when someone you don‘t even know thinks it‘s ok to judge us?" "I didn‘t want it to bother me this much but I couldn‘t help but keep thinking about it. They did have some points..." "Such as?" You asked annoyed. "For example the fact that you‘re at an age where you like to go out an party on the weekends instead of chilling at home. Or that I‘m at an age where you settle down and start a family whereas that’s still in the far future for you. We‘re just in two very different places." "So do you feel this way too or have you just started thinking about this after hearing someone make these stupid remarks about us?" Bucky looked you deeply in the eyes, sighed and then kissed you on your forehead. "I‘m sorry, doll. I guess I just got too in my head with all this. I don‘t think that we‘re a bad match or not suited for each other just based on our age. I love you and I‘m very happy that you're my girl." "I love you too Buck. But promise me that you‘ll talk to me if something like this happens again ok?" "I promise, doll. What do you say to a movie and some Pizza tonight? So we can leave this all behind and spent some time together." You smiled at Bucky and gave him a kiss before grabbing your back and making your way back to the little clothing store you had started with Y/F/N a couple of years ago.

Now looking back at these two small incidents you wonder if you missed the signs which led to the big fallout you and Bucky had yesterday. When you came back to the apartment after work you were exhausted. Today just hadn‘t been your day. It started with an unfriendly customer and ended with a fashion magazine describing your stores latest clothes as boring and nothing new or exciting. You couldn‘t wait to just snuggle up to your boyfriend and forget about everything. But upon unlocking the door to your shared apartment it was like you entered an alternate dimension. There was a suitcase next to the door and you heard your boyfriend rummaging in the bedroom.

"Do you have to leave for a business meeting?" You asked confused, wondering if you forgot about something he mentioned. Bucky looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. "Buck, what is going on? Did I forget about something?" You were starting to feel very agitated and uncomfortable like you already knew something bad was about to happen. "Look, Y/N, I think we‘ve been living in our own little world all this time but we just can‘t ignore the real world forever." "What do you mean?" You were shocked and heartbroken. Was Bucky really breaking up with you? And since when did he call you by your name? Normally he would refer to you by cute nicknames, mostly he would call you doll so much that his friends at first thought that that was your name. "It‘s just... you‘re too young for me. You're practically still a kid wanting to live their dream by trying to create a fashion brand with an itty bitty store. Whereas I‘m a cofounder of a well established firm who wants to start a family. We‘re in two different places in life and it‘s just not working. I mean your only 23 and I‘m in my forties. I need someone my age who I can marry and start a life with and you still have a lot to experience before you‘re able to settle down. You‘ll just resent me later on if I force you to grow up faster than you‘re supposed to." You were feeling numb. Too shocked to do or say anything. You only realized that you were crying once you saw the teardrops hitting your jacket that was folded over your arm.

"You can stay in the apartment as long as you need to find another place to stay. I‘m flying out to a conference and once I get back I‘ll move into my old condo." "So that‘s it. You suddenly decided to end it all over some comments other people you don‘t even know made? Don‘t I mean anything to you? I thought you loved me. How can you just throw it all away?" Bucky looked you in the eyes but you couldn‘t recognize the man you‘d fallen for anymore. His eyes were cold and detached like you were some nasty insect he wanted to get rid of. "Don‘t make this any harder on yourself. The faster you come to the realization that we never would have worked anyway the better. If you would be so nice as to let me leave now, I have a flight to catch that I can‘t miss because of your childish behavior. In the next couple of days someone is coming by to get the rest of my clothes. Oh and before I forget, here take this back it must have been expensive and you need the money more than I do." With that he gave you back the Rolex you had gifted him to his 40th birthday. You‘ve never felt so insulted „Really!? Is breaking my heart not enough for you? Do you have to insult me as well!? You can keep it. What should I do with it? I can‘t return it...remember it‘s engraved you egoistic, conceited asshole!" With that you shoved the watch back in his hand and ran off to the guestroom and looked it. A few minutes later you heard Bucky leaving the apartment and you.

Sitting on the floor you cried your eyes out. You‘ve never felt heartbreak like this before. Bucky had been everything you ever wanted but he just tossed you away like yesterday‘s trash. And the worst is that despite everything he just did and said to you, you‘re still not able to hate him. He still has your heart, sadly he doesn‘t want it no more.

#bucky angst #bucky barnes x you #modern!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x younger!reader #steve rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

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@trulytaka asked: um i’ve always dreamt about a tattoo artist!renji falling for a client AU. it’s okay if you can’t come up with anything, just a suggestion!

How is it even possible that I have never read a Tattoo Artist! Renji AU?? (If there is one, please, send it to me immediately). Anyway, I got way too enamored of this idea, this is not even remotely a drabble, it is 4400 words and it is incredibly self-indulgent, I am absolutely not sorry.

It takes place in America and everyone is Japanese-American, because I am way more comfortable writing about American tattoo culture. I have never actually read a Tattoo Artist AU, I don’t know how they are supposed to go, this is just based on my own experiences getting inked. It’s mostly a story about Rukia and Renji being incredible nerfballs, there are not nearly enough stories about Rukia being a nerfball around Renji.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀 🛹 💕

Izuru Kira found Renji Abarai in the break room, simultaneously trying to cram a burrito into his face and read a Hellboy comic. He was holding the comic open with his elbow in an attempt to avoid spilling guacamole on Abe Sapien.

“Your two o’clock is here,” Izuru informed his distinguished colleague.

“Oh, great!” Renji replied, creasing the foil wrapper into a spout so that he could pour the last of the salsa drippings into his mouth.

“She’s waiting in the consult room,” Izuru went on, watching Renji toss the crumpled foil ball across the room, completely missing the trash can. “Look, have you met her before? A Miss Kuchiki?”

“Just exchanged a few emails,” Renji replied, as he scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Why? Is she scary?”

“Not in the usual way of Abarai clients,” Izuru replied. “I was just… wondering if she was... in the right place.”

“Her request was very specific,” Renji replied, scooping up his comic and the manila folder underneath it. “In fact, I am quite proud of what I came up with for her.” He whipped the folder open.

Izuru stared at it for a moment. “That is so specific.”

“I honestly think this is one of the best tatts I have ever designed. I hope she’s a real weirdo, because not just anyone deserves a masterpiece of this caliber.”

“Mmm,” Izuru agreed. “Yeah. Anyway, if there’s been a, uh, miscommunication, see if you can just… redirect her. Both Momo and I are in today, okay?”

Renji scoffed and stuffed his comic in Izuru’s hand as he marched down the hall toward the consult room. A miscommunication. Renji wondered what was wrong with her. She was probably mousy and wore glasses. Izuru always assumed girls like that would rather have a sad poem about the sea or a sprig of herbs inked on her wrist (conveniently, his specialties). Plenty of mousy girls with glasses would rather rock some fangs or dripping daggers, in Renji’s professional experience.

“Knock knock!” he announced, as he slid the door open. He took one step into the room and stopped dead.

Rukia Kuchiki was not mousy. She did not wear glasses.

Renji didn’t know much about suits. He did not happen to own one himself. But he guessed that Rukia Kuchiki’s suit was expensive, in part because it fit her perfectly, despite her tiny frame. It was jet black, and didn’t have a single speck of lint or cat hair on it. Her perfectly manicured hands were folded neatly on top of her crossed legs. She was wearing very tall, very pointy heels. Their soles were bright red, which Renji had learned from television meant that they were super expensive. He realized that he probably shouldn’t be looking at her legs, even though they were very nice to look at. His eyes snapped up to her face, but that honestly wasn’t any better.

Renji wasn’t often attracted to women, but she had probably the most interesting face he had ever seen-- heart-shaped, with big, dark eyes, a sharp chin, the cutest little nose. Her make-up was subtle and professional, and her hair was swept up with a clip, although it must be fairly short, because a few pieces hung down in front of her ears, and a thick lock dangled between her eyes.

She looked like a mean lawyer from a movie, one that would drive a fancy sportscar like an act of violence. Scary, for sure. But not in the usual way of Abarai clients, who tended toward the large and beefy, not that sharp and sharklike.

That nose, though.

Suddenly, her face split into a big grin. “Hi,” she announced brightly. “I’m Rukia Kuchiki.” She had a deep voice, a very beautiful voice. “You must be Renji Abarai.” Her eyes flicked to his arms. “I mean, of course you are, who else would have those arms? They’re so cool.”

“My arms?” Renji said stupidly. “Are they… famous?”

Rukia’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, well, I follow you on Instagram, and you don’t have any pictures of your face, but your arms are in a lot of the shots and they’re, well, they’re kinda distinctive. Do you think, um, would you mind if I looked at them?”

Renji’s eyebrows shot up. It’s not like he wasn’t used to having his arms checked out, but most people were more… subtle about it. Oh, well, it was her dime. “I didn’t do them myself, obviously,” he pointed out, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt so she could see the baboon skull on his left shoulder. A skeletal arm traced down the rest of that arm, complete with an outline of his own hand bones. On the right side, a snake spine coiled around his bicep, ending with a hissing skull. “I mean, it was my design, but my friends-- the other three tattoo artists here-- all helped ink me up.” He plopped down in the chair that sat catty corner to the couch where Rukia was sitting, and held his arms out. “We’re sort of a full-service studio. I’m the skeletons and monsters guy. Izuru, the guy you met on desk duty today-- is good at calligraphy and watercolors and little, itty bitty tattoos. Momo is our nature girl, she specializes in flowers and animals, and she’s great with bright colors. The snake skull was all her. Shuuhei is really into classic tattoo art-- you need a hula girl or a heart with an arrow through it, he’s your man. He’s also incredibly talented at revamping old regret tattoos, there’s good money in that.”

“Mm,” Rukia agreed, finally tearing her eyes away from his forearms to look up at his face, and abruptly turned even pinker. A lot of people fantasized about getting a tattoo and then got a bad case of nerves when it was time to make the leap. Maybe all this was way out of her comfort zone. Renji was trying his best to be friendly and chatty, which usually helped, but he was not used to dealing with this class of lady. He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too familiar.

“Actually,” Rukia went on, pulling on her fingers nervously. “I picked this place specifically because of you. For your work, I mean. I’m kind of a big fan. I saw some of your paintings at an exhibition over at the Fine Arts College, and I just, you know, fell in love. I’d always thought I’d like to get a tattoo someday, and when I found out that you were a tattoo artist, I knew it had to be you. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, and I’m babbling and I’m really sorry, I’m just very excited.”

Renji blinked. “You’re not babbling,” he replied slowly. He was sort of hoping she might say some more things about how much she liked his art in her beautiful voice. “Wait, an exhibition at the art school? That must have been at least three years ago, when I was doing my MFA.”

“Er, right,” Rukia looked a little sheepish. “A friend of mine had some work in the same exhibit, you probably don’t know her. My favorite one of your paintings was the one with the Black Lagoon creatures eating hamburgers at a diner, but I also really liked the one that was like a huge monster with a big bone mask stalking through a city, the way you did the shadows was just incredible.”

That particular painting was currently wrapped in brown paper and stuffed behind Renji’s couch. His last boyfriend had told him it was “creepy.”

“Uh, glad you liked it,” Renji managed. “Who was your friend?”

“Her name is Inoue. Orihime Inoue.”

“Oh, the robot girl!” Renji exclaimed. “Er, I mean she drew robots. Constantly. For every assignment. I didn’t mean to imply she was… robotic. In any way.” Jeez, Abarai, pull it together, he chided himself. “Yeah, I remember her. I didn’t know her well, but she sure could draw some tight robots. Is, she, uh, doing well?”

“She’s doing storyboards for a stop-motion animation studio,” Rukia replied.

Renji smiled. “That sounds perfect for her.”

Rukia bit her bottom lip and Renji’s throat went dry.

“So, um, you said in your email that you would have a design for me to look at?”

Renji realized that he was gripping the folder like a doofus. “Right! I did a couple of variations,” he explained, passing it from one hand to the other. “But you explained the concept pretty clearly, and I’m really happy with how the first one came out. I mean, obviously, it’s your tattoo! Please give me any feedback you have, you won’t offend me, even if you hate it! Tattoo designs often take a few iterations, it’s very normal, don’t hold back.”

She was staring at him, those big eyes wide and sparkling. “Can I… see it?”

“Oh! Right!” He shoved the folder at her.

Rukia opened it up and gasped.

“I especially love the way you draw skeletons,” Rukia’s email had read. “Do you think you could tattoo a grim reaper doing a sick kickflip on a skateboard onto my outer bicep? I do lift, so I am pretty jacked, if that makes a difference.”

“It’s perfect,” Rukia sighed in a tiny voice.

“Um, in the first variation (that’s page 2) I added some sunglasses, and in the second one, the grim reaper is flipping the bird and also its head is on fire. I guess I thought that grim reapers should be gender neutral but now I’m wondering if you would have preferred more of a… lady grim reaper?” Renji yammered absently.

“Oh, no,” Rukia murmured softly, flipping through the pages. Renji wasn’t even sure she had listened to a word he had said. “These are amazing. I love the sunglasses, but I also like the way you put little flames in the eye sockets in the first one…” She waved a hand absently. “Oh, and don’t worry, I like a non-binary skeleton.”

A small problem had just occurred to Renji. “Hey, um, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I… may have overestimated the size of your arms.”

“Oh?” Rukia asked, and abruptly shucked off her expensive suit jacket. She was wearing a pale purple sleeveless silk blouse underneath. She held one arm out experimentally, and then flexed. The muscle definition on her bicep made Renji take an involuntary swallow, but the fact that she was wicked cut did not buy him much in the way of real estate.

“I’ll just shrink it down maybe 25%,” he reassured her. “I’ll have to simplify some of the detail on--”

“No,” Rukia frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t do that.” She thought for a moment. “I’m not committed to having it on my arm.” She uncrossed her legs and hefted one high-heeled foot onto the coffee table in front of her. “What do you think? Is my thigh big enough?”

Renji tried to make words come out, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Er… sorry,” Rukia said slowly, tugging at her hem. “I forgot I was wearing a skirt today.”

“Huh?” Renji scrambled to recover. He needed to say something. She looked really embarrassed. Say something! Say something professional about her leg! “Sorry, I was, uh, thinking!” Good, good, now keep going. “Don’t be self-conscious, I see people’s bodies all the time. Bodies are no big deal, we all got ‘em, right?” This was true in the abstract sense, but he knew these were blatant lies as they exited his mouth. Most people’s bodies were no big deal. He had only known her for five minutes, but was certain that Rukia Kuchiki’s thighs were a very big deal. He studied her leg, stroking his chin, like he was some kind of anthropologist of thigh tattoos. Mostly he was trying to figure out what would seem like an appropriate amount of time to look at a person’s thigh, a person who was your professional client that you most definitely did not have the hots for. “There’s certainly plenty of room,” he declared. “But, you know, people are going to see it less. Which is a selling point for some people! It’s just a personal decision that you’ll have to make. It sounds like you had a big vision.”

Rukia gingerly placed her foot back on the floor. “I had actually been wondering if maybe the upper arm was too public, anyway,” she admitted. “The fact is, I just got full access to my trust fund, and this is sort of a celebration, but I may have been a little overeager to piss off my big brother. He’s very stodgy.” She contemplated the area of her leg that was covered by her pencil skirt. “But so are a lot of people in my field. I can wait until I’m running my own company before I get started on the full sleeve of my dreams, right?”

“Worked for me,” Renji replied, utterly lost by whatever she was talking about. “What… field are you in?”

“Oh, finance,” she dismissed.

Finance. Of course. Renji tried to shoo away the weight of disappointment that was settling in his stomach. He was talking to a friendly client who was clearly loaded, loved his work, and was contemplating thousands of dollars worth of future business. He should be thrilled. He should probably be trying to sell her one of his old paintings-- they were only gathering dust, anyway. Renji would never break the studio policy about hitting on clients. The fact that she would surely laugh at him if he asked her to his favorite burger joint ought to make things easier, right?

“This is so hard!” Rukia declared, and Renji was shaken from his reverie. She was just contemplating his draft designs again, though, flipping back and forth between them.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he reassured her. “You can think about it and email me. If you’re happy enough, we can schedule your session, and we’ll work out the details between now and then. Chat it over with your pal MechaHime, she’s got good opinions.” He paused. Momo always said he was too nice during consults, they were running a business, but he couldn’t help it. “Or you can just call back when you’re ready. No pressure.”

Rukia slammed her fist down on her knee. “No! Let’s schedule it! Do I pay now?”

“20% deposit. Let’s go out front, Izuru will ring it up.”

“Perfect.” She looked longingly at the drawings again. “Can I take these with me? You’re absolutely right, Orihime will know what to do.”

Renji wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually against studio policy but…”

Rukia’s face suddenly became very serious. “Then it’s against policy.” She winked at him and smiled. “You should take care of your intellectual property, Mr. Abarai.”

“I never get over to this part of town, to be honest,” Rukia admitted as they walked back up to the front. “Is the taco place across the street any good?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Renji agreed. “Momo and I painted a huge mural on their wall, so they give us free churros.”

“Are tacos a good post-tattoo celebratory meal?” Rukia asked curiously.

“Well, you actually want to eat beforehand,” Renji pointed out. “It’s important to keep your energy up. I don’t estimate yours should take very long, I’m gonna book you a two-hour slot.”

“Ah, okay,” Rukia agreed, and Renji realized belatedly that...maybe… she had been asking him out? No. Surely not. His brain scrabbled for a response, but then he stepped into the reception area and his brain shut down entirely.

“It’s DONE!” Shuuhei bellowed. “Behold my work, ye mighty, and despair!”

Tetsuzaemon Iba, serial client, yakuza enthusiast, and assistant manager at a doggie day care, was flexing. He was not wearing a shirt.

From behind the reception desk, Kira was wearing a dour frown and shaking his head.

“It’s a masterpiece,” Renji declared. “I admit I was skeptical, but it looks fantastic, man. You happy with it?”

“It” was a massive tattoo, covering the wide landscape of Iba’s broad back. It featured a lucky cat, grinning maniacally, its paw held high. It was on fire. The kanji for “lucky charm” was incorporated somehow. It was a disaster. It was perfect.

“How could I not be?” Iba boomed.

“Whoa,” a tiny voice behind Renji said.

Iba’s face went pale when he realized that he was being Peak Iba in front of an elegant, professional woman whose shoes probably cost more than his entire net worth. “Gimme me my shirt!” he demanded of Shuuhei.

“That’s… amazing!” Rukia exclaimed, her face lighting up. “Wow, how long did that take?”

Shuuhei blinked slowly as he passed Iba his shirt. “Five sessions.”

“Well, it’s so cute!” Rukia announced. “You must love cats.”

Iba lifted at the same gym as Renji and watched Momo’s Pomeranian on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He was a regular fixture at the tattoo studio, and all four of them liked to drag him, but no one, none of them, had ever roasted him this hard. Renji cursed that no-asking-out-clients rule, because he wanted to buy Rukia Kuchiki her own body weight in tacos and then ask her to be his wife.

“He’s more of a dog person,” Shuuhei supplied.

“Great with dogs,” Izuru added.

“Shut up, you jerks, I am a lover of all animals,” Iba grumbled as he pulled his Hawaiian shirt over his shoulders. “Is this your lawyer, Abarai? Did you finally get arrested for that hairstyle?”

“I have an MBA, actually, not a JD,” Rukia replied matter-of-factly. “And I am his client. Can you show that large man my tattoo design? Is that allowed?”

Renji chuckled, and pulled out his drawing.

“That,” Iba declared, “is a wicked tatt.”

“Oh, you showed me that email!” Shuuhei recalled. “It came out great.” He regarded Rukia. “He was really excited about that one, you made his day.”

Rukia just beamed proudly.

“Are we booking a session, then?” Izuru asked hopefully.

“Yeah, two hours,” Renji nodded.

“Let me just finish ringing up Iba, and I’ll see when you’ve got an opening,” Izuru replied.

“This your first one?” Shuuhei asked Rukia conversationally.

“Mm-hmm,” Rukia nodded.

“Well, you made a good choice. Clean design, mostly black with just a few color pops, should go on quick and easy, and it’ll hold up really well, too.”

“This is Shuuhei, the one I was telling you about, who fixes a lot of bad tattoos.”

“I have never had to fix an Abarai tattoo,” Shuuhei declared. “He’s great with first timers. Very gentle. I’ve fallen asleep while he was inking me.” Shuuhei pointed to the pair of crossed scythes gracing his upper arm. “This is one of his.”

“Oooh, neat!” Rukia agreed.

“You’re being embarrassing,” Renji informed his friend.

“Always,” Shuuhei agreed. “Nice to meet you! I hope I get to see the finished product.” He waved to Iba as he headed off toward the back. “Don’t forget to moisturize!”

“Everyone’s so friendly here,” Rukia said softly to Renji. “This isn’t at all like I pictured it.”

Renji stretched his arms behind his head. “Nah, we’re just a bunch of goofballs who like drawin’ on people. Very lowkey.”

“I guess I’ve thought a lot about the getting tattooed part of getting tattooed, but I never thought of it as… a job. That people have.”

“It’s a great job,” Renji replied. “I love it. I’m just lucky that Izuru over there has enough business sense to keep the other three of us from running it into the ground.”

“That’s certainly the truth,” Izuru agreed, as Iba headed out the door. “Two hours, you said? Renji’s got a 4-6pm block open on a Wednesday, three weeks from now. The 24th, how does that work for you, Ms. Kuchiki?”

“Do you think that’s enough time to settle on a design?” Renji asked. “If you come up with changes, it should only take me a day or two to incorporate them.”

“Oh! Yes, three weeks should be fine. I thought… it might be a little sooner,” Rukia replied, sounding a tad disappointed.

“Abarai’s a busy man, three weeks is actually pretty quick,” Izuru explained.

“Right, of course!” Rukia nodded. “Yes, I’ll take the 24th!”

She then paid her deposit, a process which involved her taking approximately ten thousand items out of her purse, including a full-sized drawing pad, a single fingerless glove, and a Pez dispenser with a duck head. She was the most contradictory person Renji had ever met, and he just wanted to know everything about her. But instead, they were going to exchange a couple of emails about a grim reaper on a skateboard, he was going to spend an hour and a half two inches from her naked thigh in a state of intense, non-sexual concentration, and then he would likely never see her again.

“Okay, I guess that’s it!” Rukia said, stuffing the last of her worldly belongings back into the purse. “Three weeks, then!”

“Three weeks it is,” Renji agreed. “Unless we happen to run into each other at the taco place.”

Rukia blinked. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Right. Ha, ha, of course!” She’d been walking backwards toward the door, an impressive feat in those heels, and she spun suddenly to pull it open.

“It’s a push,” Renji and Izuru chorused together.

“Ha, ha, of course it is!” Rukia laughed nervously, and ducked out.

Izuru stared pointedly at Renji. “Wow,” he said.

“I don’t know what you have against her,” Renji scowled. “So she’s professional. She was really nice. She’s a big fan of my work.”

Izuru cocked his head. “She’s clearly also a big fan of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Renji said.

“Look, I’m sorry I implied that a person who drives a Lotus Exige would not be interested in having your weird skeleton doodles permanently placed on her body,” Izuru held up his hands, “but did you really not notice the little hearts and singing birds floating around her head every time she gazed longingly at you?”

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Renji snapped.

“It looked fancy and I asked Shuuhei what it was, okay!”

On cue, Shuuhei burst back into the reception area, Momo close on his tail. “Are we talking about the hot client who has a crush on Abarai?”

“Did you ask her out?” Momo asked breathlessly.

“She’s not really his type,” Izuru mused. “Very corporate.”

Renji frowned. Did he have a type? If his type excluded people like Rukia Kuchiki, he might need to get a new type.

“Who cares, she was adorable!” Momo insisted. “I woulda asked her out.”

“Renji, if you go out with her, can you get me a ride in the Exige?” Shuuhei added.

“I’m not gonna ask her out!” Renji protested. “What happened to the no-hitting-on-clients rule?”

“The rule is no creeping on clients,” Shuuhei correctly. “This is different. She’s clearly into you, big time.”

“Also, she seems non-terrible, unlike the questionable human beings you usually take up with,” Izuru pointed out. “We could relax the rule if it netted you an actually decent partner for a change.”

Renji scowled judgmentally at Izuru, as if his own dating history had been remotely better before he and Shuuhei finally hooked up.

“Oh!” Momo waved her phone. “Speaking of which, I googled her, like you told me to, Izuru--”

“Izuru!” Renji protested.

“--and you were right! She’s not just one of the Kuchikis, she’s the granddaughter!” Momo thrust her phone in Renji’s face. It was some article about some fancy charity event, complete with a picture that was clearly Rukia, dressed in a dramatic black and gold evening gown.

Renji wanted to push Momo’s hand away, but he also didn’t want to stop looking at Rukia in that dress. “The who?” he asked.

Izuru and Momo sighed dramatically in synchronized exasperation.

“Embarrassingly rich old money family? I don’t know what they actually do, but they’re always in the newspapers, donating money for something or other--”

“Billionaire philanthropists,” Shuuhei intoned in a fake deep voice.

“--I heard they’re descended from some famous clan of samurai back in Japan,” Momo ignored him. She jerked her phone back and started tapping at it frantically. “I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of the grandson-- Rukia’s brother, I guess. He always makes those lists of top ten hottest bachelors.”

“He’s dreamy,” Shuuhei seconded.

“Impossibly dreamy,” Izuru thirded.

Momo flipped her phone around again, to reveal a picture of a very serious, and very handsome man in a classic three-piece wool suit. Renji supposed “impossibly dreamy” was not an inaccurate description.

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen pictures of that guy before,” Renji shrugged. “He’s okay. Rukia has a more interesting face, I think.”

Momo and Shuuhei exchanged raised eyebrows.

“You do like her, then?” Izuru asked, his face brightening. “You’re wrong, by the way, Byakuya Kuchiki has the face of an angel.”

“Rukia says he’s stuffy,” Renji shrugged. “And fine. I like her. She’s cute and nice and had good taste in tattoos. What’s not to like?”

“Are you gonna ask her out, then?” Momo pressed.

“Absolutely not,” Renji replied. “She’s my client. Besides, as you just pointed out, she’s loaded. What’s she want with a scumbag like me?”

All three of his friends groaned.

“You have good delts and sexy hair,” Izuru pointed out.

“You give amazing hugs!” Momo declared.

“You draw fantastic skeletons,” Shuuhei added. “Which, apparently, is relevant to her interests, and not a thing you usually find on Tindr.”

“Also, we’ve already established that she does like you, regardless of whether she has a valid reason for doing so,” Izuru concluded. “So, if you’re at all interested, you really shouldn’t let that stop you.”

“I think you should go for it,” Momo encouraged.

“Me, too,” Shuuhei agreed.

Renji grimaced. She was an amazing girl, too good to be true probably. If she had any sense at all, she would certainly turn him down. But maybe… just maybe… she didn’t have any sense. “Okay,” he grudgingly agreed. “I’ll do it. But not until I’m finished the damn tattoo!”

#my writing #wacky au requests #god i want to read 100k worth of this #i just don't want to *write* it #insert dog no write! only read! meme #special thanks to mr p for coming up with rukia's car for me #we spent about a month once discussed which 80s sportscar each of the vice-captains would drive #it is the best bleach conversation we have ever had

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whatshername-please · 4 years

Text

Out of the Water - Chapter V

Synopsis: You were very proud to be a mermaid, thank you very much. You didn’t want to be where the people were. Actually, you’d rather avoid it. Defending the merfolk was the biggest goal in your life… well, it was until you meet a certain pirate… it seems that your family really had a thing for humans, after all. Not that you’d ever admit it…

Pairing: Harry x reader

Word count: 4514

Part 5 of ?

Warnings: none? Possibly grammar mistakes? Also, some cuss words

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so I’ll probably mess up some tenses, grammar and stuff. Go easy on me, please. Feedback is always appreciated.

The sun was fading away in the horizon and soon it would be dark and, as you walked, you wondered why everything in this damned kingdom had to be so far away? Didn't they have magic carpets or something like that? Besides, since it was getting darker by the second, the sense of urgency was growing too. You had the feeling that Audrey was just playing with you - she obviously knew where you were, so why she didn't make a move yet? It was like a cat and mouse game and you were the mice heading towards a trap. Also, Mal having the Amber did not put your mind at ease since you didn't have the advantage.

You were literally entering to the lion's lair willingly.

"What happened between you and Hook?" You raised an eyebrow and Evie, who had come to talk to you, explained. "We heard the screaming. I know he can be difficult to deal with, but soon we'll all be in Auradon together".

Evie was way too good for this world, wasn't she? You didn't have the heart to contradict her or tell the atrocity the pirate had done to you.

"I know, sweetie. Don't worry, I'll try to be civil, even if the person in question is an utterly jerk who deserves a punch".

She sighed, looking almost disappointed. Obviously, you didn't give the answer she was hoping for but honestly, what was she expecting from you? Moreover, your response was nice enough, considering Harry was annoying and a water thief.

"That's a beginning, I suppose. But I think we can work on the aggressive attitude, though" she said with a shrug.

Oh, maybe you should have skipped the punching part... If she thought that was violent, you hoped she never found out that you almost chopped Harry's finger off, then.

As the time passed you grew impatient, it was already night and no one was in a chatty mood anymore. As for you, you've never wished for a day to end so fast and, on top of that, something else was bothering you and it was not the perspective of facing Psycho Audrey. Maybe it was the fact that once everything was over, Mal would let the kids off the Isle (it was what she had promised, after all). However, as much as you want to believe her, you had your doubts. Either way, nothing would ever be the same.

Finally, you arrived at Fairy Cottage and crossed the garden very quietly, trying not to draw attention to yourselves. When you finally got at the building, Ben burst the door open.

Great way to go unnoticed.

However, in the end, it didn't matter because Audrey wasn't there and your little journey had been a waste of time, thereby she was still on the loose and you had no one idea where she could be or what she was planning to do (but whatever it was, it would be unpleasant). Suddenly, the sound of a bustling knock filled the air startling everybody. Ben followed the source of the disturbence and discovered a very scared Chad locked in the pantry.

The poor thing looked completely distressed and hysterical and, soon after, he mumbled some nonsense and rushed off without a second thought.

"Well, at least he is pretty" you said out loud. How Cinderela could have had such a foolish son was beyond your comprehension, but his golden locks made up for the lack of discernment.

Harry laughed and the clumsy encounter with Chad lifted everyone's spirit and, when you left the Cottage, there weren't Mal's gang or Uma's crew anymore, just friends trying to save the world. Even if you were all doomed; at least you'd end up things in good terms.

Yeah, that's what you naively thought.

Evie told Ben about Mal's promise and apparently Mal had had other plans that she didn't bother sharing with anyone: she was going to close the barrier for good. No more in, no more out.

Nothing serious or extreme.

No reason to freak out...

Holly shit!

You felt like a fool!

Just to think that you gave your word to Harry and Gil that Ben wouldn't do that! You were so mad that you couldn't even talk and it never happened before! Also, you didn't have the heart to face Uma, not after you said to her things were changing for the better. You knew how Uma pretended to be tough, but right now her spirit had been shattered...

Harry confronted Ben about the lie and you thought he'd lose his shit and gut someone, but he just looked completely broken, like someone had taken away his will to fight. Even though Harry and Uma knew pain and betrayal, they didn't expect this. They trusted the people of Auradon were different and they were let down.

Things weren't suppose to go this way! You wanted to do something! Anything! But what?

It was then that Celia took the amber from Mal's hand and threw it into the water. Well, if you were screwed before, now you were hopeless. At least it was for a good cause, if people in Auradon thought their lives were worthier than the life of the inhabitants of the Isle, let them rot. You couldn't even be mad at Uma for leaving since that was what you wanted to do too, but you knew there was nothing you could do to help her in this moment. Actually, you knew Uma well enough to know that going after her would only bother her.

The words Harry said to you earlier about Auradon's privilege echoed in your mind and you couldn't stay put anymore.

"I know this is not my place to say something. I mean, most of the time I'm not even here, I'm not a VK and closing the barrier doesn't affect my life... but it does. It does because there are people there, good people destined to live a dreadful life just because they were born on that Isle! People in Auradon have been living their perfect little lives where everything is pretty and colorful while we claim to be the good guys, but what we have done to the villains and their kids is atrocious! There will always be good and evil, that's how life works and we can't run away from it. Deciding which path to follow is what defines someone's true self, but in order to make this decision we need to have a chance. Mal, you of all people should know that, you had a chance and now that your life is good you want to deny those children the same opportunity? From this day on, every time you play 'happily ever after' with your prince charming, know that you are doing it at the expense of a child on that Isle"

You wish you had heard Mal's reply, but as soon as you finished talking, the world froze.

_______

Legend says that you were indeed the hottest stone statue in Auradon, but it didn't soothe you a bit. To say you were pissed was not nearly enough to express what you were feeling right now. If Audrey weren't already dying, you would have gladly killed her yourself. The only reason why you were still in the awful human world was Uma... this, and also because becoming stone had consumed all your energies and right now you were way too busy drinking a huge bottle of salted water to not die of dehydration.

Your grandfather would have to choose another diplomat because you were never ever setting foot on land again.

Maybe, if you weren't so angry, you would have choked on your drink when Mal told Hades was her father.

It explained a lot about her, though.

So, Hades, Mal's father, was the only one who could save Audrey and they were going to fetch him on the Isle to help the dying girl. Oh! The double standard! When a kid from Auradon curses everybody is "a mistake", but if someone from the Isle does that is "they are too dangerous, let's lock them up forever". Is it fair? No. Does anyone care? Also no.

You thought it couldn't get any worse, but boy, you were wrong. Uma just said she was going back to the Isle, which was pretty understandable and expected, but you had one itty-bitty tiny hope that she would stay.

Oh, on top of that, everyone accepted Mal and Ben's selfish decision to close the barrier. You scoffed under your breath, salted water wasn't enough to deal with all this, you needed something stronger, like vodka. The good thing was, since everyone was leaving and your cousins were safe, you had no more business in the human world and you took your cue from the VKs to announce your own departure too.

You waited for the limo alongside Uma, Harry, Gil and Celia, the atmosphere was tense, and you had seen happier people at funerals.

"I thought you were going back to Atlantica" the teal haired girl said, breaking the overwhelming silence.

"I'll go with you... until we reach the barrier, at least" your voice was more hoarse than you expected it to.

"Yeah, don't want to risk getting trapped, right?" If this was supposed to be a mean comment, Harry had failed; he just sounded sad, like everyone else. The pirate wasn't expecting an answer but you gave him one, anyway.

"I wouldn't mind going to the Isle, but there is no magic there and no magic means no legs for me, so you would be stuck with a mermaid... unless you don't care to carry me around..." you half-joked.

The car finally arrived and you got into it. It was nice that Ben sent the limo to pick up the VKs, and the guard's vehicle was going ahead, probably to go find Hades. There was all sorts of food in the limo, but no one touched them because all of you were way too lost in your own minds to be hungry. As you were approaching the Isle the unsettling feeling in your stomach grew worst and there was definitely something wrong with your eyes. Just before the car crossed the barrier, you asked the driver to stop. For one second, it seemed he would argue against it, but you gave him a warning look, since you weren't in the mood for more useless fights.

"Uma, can we talk outside for one second, please?" you asked.

You two got out of the car and, as soon as Uma closed the door, you hugged her.

"I'm sorry, Uma. I'm so sorry" the only thing you could do was to repeat how sorry you were, but you knew your apologies didn't change anything.

"I know" she reassured you, looking in your eyes "It's not your fault, you shouldn't be apologizing".

"Someone has to" you said, your felt so tight in your chest that hurt. Then, Uma smiled and hold your hand.

"Thanks for everything you've done for me. I don't know how I would have gone through the past months without you"

"You'd have done just fine, you're a fighter" it was now or never, you lowered your voice so even if someone in the car was paying attention to the conversation, they wouldn't hear you "You can still change your mind, let's go back to Atlantica and, before you interrupt me, Harry and Gil can come too. I have no idea how this is going to work but we'll figure it out" you offered her - you had to try.

"You know I can't abandon the Isle, speacially now" her eyes were full of sorrow, she knew exactly what meant to go back "Maybe you can swim near the barrier so we can see each other from time to time".

You knew she would say that, but it didn't mean it hurt any less.

"Definitely!" you tried to sound cheerful, but the words that left your mouth were robotic and fake "We'll see each other again".

This was a lie, even if you saw each other it would never be the same. The realization hit you hard and that weird feeling that you had in the car, finally made sense when streams of salt water started falling from your eyes.

"I'm leaking!" you freaked out "What is that?! I'm leaking!"

"You're crying, you idiot" she laughed, her eyes watering too.

"Nonsense, mermaids don..." before you could complete the sentence, Uma hugged you again, which made you start crying even harder.

No, not crying, leaking.

"I promise, Uma. I'll not stop fighting for the Isle. I'll talk to Mal, Ben or whoever I must to! They will change their minds, even if, in order to do so, I have to summon up the wrath of the ocean upon them".

You didn't know how long you two stayed crying in each others arms but a voice with a thick accent called both of you after a while.

"Are you ladies alright?" Harry asked. The pirate and Gil were standing there next to both of you. The dark haired boy had a hint of curiosity on his face but he knew better than to tease his captain.

You two pulled away from the hug, Uma looked slightly embarassed to get caught in such an emotional moment.

"I can't believe I'm leaking" you said while trying to wipe away the tears from your eyes; however, they insisted on falling down.

This was so awkward.

"You're not leaking, you're crying" Gil's brow furrowed "Don't you know what crying is?"

"Yes, I do... it's just I've never cried before..." you said between sobs.

"Wow, life in Auradon must be really perfect if people don't even cry here" for the firts time since you met him, he sounded sad. The boy was probably thinking about all the opportunities he would never have in Auradon because he was destined to live on the Isle forever.

They took away Gil's bright smile and you could not forgive that.

"It's not that... I live in the sea, tears don't fall when you are under water" you explained, finally calming down.

"Maybe the ocean is just a big pool of mermaid's tears." Gil said absently, eyeing the vast blue ocean in front of him and you couldn't help but hug the blonde boy too.

The Sea Bitch was such a softie.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, Gil. I wish we had more time to know each other better, but I know for sure that you're loyal, brave and gentle. I hope you are very happy. You deserve it".

You broke apart short after and Gil seemed very touched by your words.

"Thanks... that was one of nicest things that someone ever said to me" he offered you a shy smile "I wish you the same".

You looked at Harry, who looked back right into your eyes. You stared at each other until you hold out your hand, which he accepted. It was weird, Harry Hook has gotten on your nerves since the very first moment you met. He was smug, annoying and a little crazy, but at the same time he was very funny and fearless, qualities that you admired. You wanted to say something, but before you could open your mouth he let go of your hand.

That was it, then.

You also said goodbye to Celia and wished her the best. Then, the VKs got into the car again and, since Harry was the last one standing outside, you took the chance to ask him a favor.

"Please, take care of Uma"

His face broke into small smile and he nodded slightly.

You watched with a shattered heart the limo cross the barrier, taking away your friends from you forever.

There was nothing else you could do, so you jumped into the ocean and disappeared between the waves.

Not an hour ago all you wanted was to be back home, but now everything seemed pointless. For the last months Uma lived in Atlantica and going back without her gave you a knot in the stomach, things wouldn't be the same anymore without your friend there. The two of you used to spend hours plotting ways to get everyone off the Isle, finding a hole in the barrier or just talking about the future... and now you had nothing but crushed hopes. Of course you wouldn't give up, but you felt like you had moved backwards 10 spaces in the game, you fought for the merfolk on the Isle for so long and when it finally seemed that everything was going to be fine, it was a lie.

You were so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn't pay attention to where you were heading, which caused you to bump into your mother and younger brother.

"Where have you been"? Attina asked, her voice was somewhere between angry and concerned, but it was impossible to miss the vein popping out on her forehead "I was worried sick about you!"

"Sorry mom, I was in Auradon" you told her, knowing very well that this answer would only upset her more because there was no way she hadn't hear about Audrey and her little mishap.

"Auradon?!" The look of horror on her face made clear that she knew about what happened and wasn't happy about it. If humans thought you were hardcore, it was because they never talked to your mother "Do you know what Sleeping Beauty's daughter did?"

If you knew? You lived and survived it.

"I heard even Uma was there! Your grandfather was almost sending guards to look for you and your cousins! What happened?"

"Did you finally meet Uma, then?" your brother, Nereus, joined the conversation. He didn't know anything about Uma or that you two were friends. Also, he had no idea that he had talked to her many times when she was under the charm spell.

Then, your mother called by your full name, which never meant something good.

"You weren't there in hopes to befriend Ursula's daughter and bring all the merfolk from the Isle to Atlatica, were you?" Your mother knew you so well... and she wasn't happy.

"Of course not, mom..." I'm already friends with Uma, you added mentally.

Before she started complaining, you explained everything that happened that day (ok, almost everything, you definitely skipped some parts). Her disapproval face grew to the point her vein was ready to explode, while your brother gasped and cheered at the most exciting parts, as you told the story. Under other circumstances you would have narrated the events in a dramatic and majestic way, not sparing any single detail; however, it was way too painful to remember that was your first and last adventure with Uma and her crew.

"Will they close the barrier forever for real?" Nereus asked and, when you nodded, he offered you a sympathetic smile. He knew how much you fought for the merpeople on the Isle.

Your mother, on the other hand, had other things bothering her.

"So, you tell me that they let a bunch of kids fight against a delusional girl who held one of the most dangerous tools of dark magic in the kingdom? Where were Fairy Godmother, the Blue Fairy, the 3 Good Fairies? You can't trust fairies, that's what I always say to your grandfather! Where were Belle and the Beast? Any adults?!" as she talked, her voice got more and more high-pitched, until she was practically shouting.

"They were probably under Audrey's spell" you enlightned her, even knowing that it would not ease her mind one bit.

"That's an absurd! How can we trust our kids to go to Auradon Prep if they can't keep the security system of a museum working properly?!"

You and your brother exchanged looks. Although your mother had a valid point, you didn't want to hear any of it, which was odd, because you never missed the opportunity to roast the human world.

Claiming to be tired, you excused yourself and swam to your room and, as soon as you got there, you glanced at the spot where Uma would used to stay, knowing that you'd probably never talk to her again. You felt like someone was crushing your heart and if you weren't under the sea, tears would be rolling down your face. You lay on the bed, trying to stop thinking about Uma, the Isle and everything. It was a good thing that you were exhausted, so you soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but, suddenly, you were woken by someone knocking on your door. You cursed under your breath, who, in the seven seas, was disturbing you right now? Not even bothering to look up, you invited whoever was at your door to come in, you heard them entering and closing the door and, after a moment, you felt the weight of someone sitting on your bed.

They coughed and you recognized the deep voice that belonged to none other than your grandfather, King Triton.

"Grandpa!" you sat up quickly and hugged him.

"Hello, my dear" everyone feared your grandfather for he had quite a dauntless reputation (even you had to admit that he was frightening sometimes), also, his temper was known in all Auradon. However, when he looked at you with those gentle eyes, you forgot he was the King of the ocean, in these moments he was just your grandfather and you fell protected and loved near him.

"Oh grandpa, it was dreadful and I'm misarable" you hugged him again, hiding your face on his neck.

"Your mother told me what happened and that King Ben wants to close the barrier" his voice was so calm that it was difficult to imagine that when he was angry he could create storms and tsunamis.

"That's horrible. I feel so powerless and guilty! I know most of people think everyone in the Isle is evil but that's not true! They are kind and loyal and they don't deserve to be doomed to perish in that place! You should have seem their faces when Mal told them the program had been shut down" your grandfather wasn't know for his love for villains, everytime someone brought Ursula up he got riled up and changed the subject quickly, but you needed to speak out.

"And who are 'they' that you're talking about?" he asked, stroking you hair softly to confort you.

"You know... Celia, Gil, Harry... and Uma" you were nervous to talk about Uma with him. Actually, despite him knowing that you were in charge for her "search party" you have never discussed that you wanted to bring her to Atlantica, even more that you had brought her to the palace clandestinely and that she lived under his roof for months.

"Uma?" his voice was stern when he said your friend's name.

"Grandpa" you straightned up and looked him in the eye "I know it must be hard for you because Ursula caused great pain to our family but Uma has nothing to do with it, she is brave, smart and care so much about other people. She had the chance to stay in Auradon but she came back to the Isle because she couldn't abandon them! She might has taken some questionable decisions, but who hasn't? She was fighting for what she believed was right! Isn't it what you taught me?"

King Triton furrowed his brows; the wrinkles in his forehead were visible which could only mean he was deliberating something.

"You do seem to know a lot about her" he said after a while, his voice and face were severe and you swallowed... this conversation was taking a dangerous path.

"Well... I..."

Before you could finish the sentence, your grandfather cut you off.

"I know what you did"

You froze, he couldn't possibly be talking about Uma living in Atlantica. There was no way he knew that, if he had had any suspicion of what you did, he would have been beyond furious, so you tried to play cool.

"What are you talking about, grandpa?"

He raised an eyebrow and sighed.

"I know you brought Uma to live here in Atlantica"

And then you died.

The end.

Oh wait.

You weren't dead... but you were sure your grandfather just told you that he knew about Uma... Something was terribly wrong. He probably noticed your bulging eyes and horrified expression because he elucidated soon after.

"I raised seven daughters, my darling. I don't need my trident to see through a charm spell and a lie" it was weird, his voice was strangely serene and he looked slightly amused.

"But... how... like... why... Aren't you angry?" there weren't enough words to describe your shock right now.

"I learned to trust the people I love a long time ago, even when we don't agree on the subject." his tone was solemn and wise and it made you feel so small and pathetic because you knew you had disappointed him.

"I'm sorry, grandpa.... I'm sorry that I lied to you and that I disappointed you, but I'm not sorry for what I did" you didn't have the courage to look him in the eyes, but he lifted up your face and smiled.

"You didn't disappoint me. I trusted you enough to let you do what you thought was right, that was what I taught you. And considering everything I saw in the last months, I believe Uma is a good girl and I'm glad you're friends"

You returned his smile, not in your wildest dreams you thought your grandfather would understand this and it made you so glad how supportive and understanding he was about everything.

"I'm sorry for lying to you! I won't do it again" you promised him.

"You're young, you will" he laughed it off "But trust me when I say that I'll be by your side no matter what"

Everything should be perfect; however, there were a bitter feeling in your mouth and a knot in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't get rid of. In the end, it didn't matter if your grandfather trusted Uma or not, because she would be trapped on the Isle forever.

"So… I think I need your help" you bit your lip, uncertain of how to say it "We can't let them close the barrier for good, but I don't know what to do!"

"Don't worry, I promised I'll talk to King Ben about this. They can't just close the barrier like this without measuring the consequences" he reassured you "Now, rest, my darling. You had a long day"

He got up and swan towards your door, but before leaving he turned his head and said.

"Otherwise, you have my permission to summon up the wrath of the ocean upon them" he winked at you and left.

"Wait" you whispered to yourself "How does he even know?"

And then it hit you.

"SEBASTIAN!"

#harry hook x reader #harry hook #harry hook x you #harry hook imagine #descendants #descendants imagine #descendants x reader #uma daughter of ursula #descedants fanfiction #out of the water

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terreisa · 3 years

Text

Love Down the Line: Epilogue

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch. When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept. Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones. With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, Three Years Later

“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”

Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone. He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in. Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.

“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop. When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water. We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”

“Yeah, well that was what? Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something. Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”

“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not? Can they do nothing to please you?”

He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.

“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.

Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley. Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after. When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her. The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.

“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”

With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”

“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you. I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”

“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”

“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys? I had no idea!”

“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”

She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met. Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”

“I believe that we would have met eventually, love. If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.

“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio. You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw. Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met. That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”

“Is that why? I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”

He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him. When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”

“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night. He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care. She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”

“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”

Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door. It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.

“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”

He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket. She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager. If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have. Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.

The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in. One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.

“Finally, you guys! I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink. Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”

Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official. There’s no stopping her now.”

“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”

“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.

“Great! I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown. Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time. Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”

As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones. With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block. She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling. When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.

After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.

“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released. I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM. Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones. Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us. Welcome, welcome!”

“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.

“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”

“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits. We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”

He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return. When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family. They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers. It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public. Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so. Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.

“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album. It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course. So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”

Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now. After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board. This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”

“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time. We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning. Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”

“And the name?” Tink prodded.

“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia. I don’t even remember why-”

Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked. We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles. At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth. Tink waved her hand in dismissal. Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.

“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going. Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid. Still is actually.”

“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”

“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be. I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”

“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess. Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before. What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”

Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question. He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father. They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.

“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future. Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds. The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”

Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today. Our music was already pretty personal. I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else. Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way? It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”

“Well you should both be damn proud! I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.

“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.

He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile. She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well. It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.

“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet. Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”

“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out. So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets. I already have mine.

“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”

With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle. It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning. Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.

“I think you can, Tink. In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”

#captain swan #cs fan fic #cs fanfic #cs ff #captain swan ff #captain swan fan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fan fiction #ouat ff #my writing

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cloveroctobers · 4 years

Text

CHELSEA ELLE HODGSON —

IG info/Bio: @/chelseaaahodecor | 109k followers | hi babes! welcome to my life lovelies, please get comfy with this Prosecco im serving thru this screen! xx here’s my site if you need some light in ur life: ichelseahdgsondesigns.com 🏝💕

24 (25) years

From Buckinghamshire, England

Comes from a wealthy family

her father’s side of the family founded, “Hodgson investments” their company is built off of financial services

Her papo (grandfather) was arrested on tax invasion & served some time for doing so

Her father, Alistair now manages the company but under a different name

Her mother’s side of the family comes from old money...something about horses?

Her mother, Connie holds many events and seems to make $ from them but Chelsea isn’t quite sure what the woman does or if it’s fully legal

The family is all about protecting their image & if you don’t cut it, there will be repercussions

Feels a little like dynasty (I’ve only seen 2-3 episodes & never finished but get the point?) , maybe that’s why Chelsea & her sister enjoy watching it so much

Parents forsure held courtship events or either went to courtship events with their children (even Albie) & found suitors in hopes of marrying their daughters off (& finding Albie a new wife, only on Mrs. Hodgson’s part— mr. Hodgson seems nicer/easy-going)

Has older twin sibs: Albie-Crispin & Dolly-Georgiana

Often referred to as “the triplet” in the press

Well-known in their city

They’re all called by their first & middle name in their family household even tho their parents do not have middle names

Has a love/hate relationship with albie, he is selfish & has proven to do anything to drag others down to make himself look better

He’s a lawyer & has been married to his wife for about 7 years

Mrs. Hodgson, Dolly, & Chelsea all agree they do not like her but Chelsea puts on a smile whenever her sister-in-law is around while Mrs. Hodgson makes it known that she dislikes the woman, she thinks she’s beneath her son since her family does not make nearly enough $ put together between her & Mr. Hodgson

Dolly has a bf who’s a dental hygentist that she’s been dating for about 3 years but they’re both cheating on each other, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be married

She’s in office management

Chelsea fell in love with interior decorating from the moment she played with doll houses. Her grandparents made sure to send her the biggest doll houses they could find every Christmas. She’s always been in love with rearranging and picking certain items and best putting them into a space that works

She shit at drawing (she’ll leave that to the Architects) but she knows her furniture & patterns quite well

Has asked a few architects out on dates, some she worked with or stumbled across, only one seemed like it could have truly worked...I imagine him to look a bit like Henry Cavill with light facial hair (told you I’m a sucker for it, & Chelsea probably can tolerate just a bit not too much)

Yet Chelsea always has a wondering eye, she gets curious quite often which makes you wonder, is she really ready for love? To fully commit? One day she will be

It’s a competitive field and when she’s ready to battle she will but there are moments when she gets let down & has to pick herself up again

Has ADHD, goes to therapy for it & hates taking her meds. She’d rather stick to therapy sessions since it’s always nice to talk to someone

When she was younger she probably stole a friend or two’s bf & would definitely get mad if they did it back to her but they somehow still end up being friends in the end? Yikes

Hung out with the popular kids, was always at the parties making sure everyone was having a good time. Filling up the cups, directing where furniture should be moved, where the kegs should go, how many people should be there, etc...She doesn’t seem like the stuck up type like her mother but she is privileged & doesn’t realize it as much

Was a cheerleader & ran track, quit track to commit full-time to cheerleading since that kept her in shape enough

Dated here & there, had one bf where they would scream at each other and wouldn’t allow the other to leave or would be upset that the other didn’t come after them...yeah one of those couples

Broke up with her goth bf because he didn’t tell her he wasn’t coming to school for about a week; he had the stomach flu

Canon: Took a computer course in high school & in uni & found out she was at the top of her class for typing the fastest, she now loves the sound of her short pink ombré nails on the keys

Canon: Wanted to be a show jumper due to her mother’s side of the family & their history with horses

Goes to the stables every now & then, there’s one horse there that she’s absolutely in love with & loves to ride. Her father always offered to buy it for her but it’s not a animal she wants to own

Canon: loves finger foods + will get full off them at events quickly. She also doesn’t mind the tiny portions of food at expensive ass restaurants, it’s just enough for her

Takes hair supplements. Probably had long hair growing up that she always kept up in a bun or ponytail but decided to start chopping her hair off & getting layers & highlights which damaged her hair

Approves of plastic surgery

Is part of the itty bitty titty community & got a lift for them

Gets lip fillers for her bottom lip but isn’t a fan of needles + overlines her top lip

loves going to the dermatologist, the spa for facials & whatever else she’s willing to try & finding new skincare to buy

Tans & loves tropical hot summers

Buys an overload of bikinis even in the winter

Hates the rain, it messes with her mood

Loves a good lipstick & lipgloss combo, nudes & pinks are her to go to’s

Fav color is pink

Got herself a guinea pig after the show & named her “bubbly” after her baby in the villa

I feel like she would eventually get a tiny dog too

Has her own flat, that’s quite far from all of her family. She loves her dysfunctional problematic family but Chelsea likes her space from them too

Since buckinghamshire’s culture is more of a Middle Ages style, Chelsea made sure her home wouldn’t hold much of that style inside. It needed to be lively! Her family home was filled with dark wood & she can’t stand that

She loves going to the markets tho. She always seems to leave with something & either finds herself not liking it months later and ends up selling whatever item caught her interest

Her family tends to pop in whenever they want, especially her mother

Canon: talks about cat cafe’s when she’s drunk, says its her version of the chocolate factory + she’s the dancing drunk

Always down for a girls night out, girls trip & girls sleepovers

Probably goes to bed early around 10pm or earlier m if she’s not out having the time of her life, which makes her regret her choices the next morning

All her closest friends back home are a group of girls

Hangs out with Priya, Marisol, & Hope from the villa whereas the rest she’ll mostly communicate with them through socials or gatherings

Will host gatherings & expect them ALL to show up

Is dramatic when things don’t go her way

Loses focus more than gets bored in relationships? She’ll find other things or people to occupy her time which she doesn’t realize can be hurtful to others

When she does realize she hurts someone, she immediately wants to fix it

Canon: Is a blabbermouth. Cannot hold a secret for shit, also cannot tell a lie. Her body language gives it away first if she doesn’t spill it

Retail therapy is the best therapy if she doesn’t have a office appointment

Any spice girl song will be her karaoke song, she is always baby spice

Loves her Prosecco (me too sis!) & keeps plenty bottles in her wine fridge. She originally wanted a space with a wine cellar but got creeped out at the thought since it’s just her & bubbly living in the home

Has high cell phone bills, the girl loves a good chat

Cannot cook no matter how hard she tries. She’s been to cooking classes with an ex, watched videos, order from those food delivery sites to prepare food & it just never turns out well

Will spend hours in furniture stores, she’s had to be escorted out pass closing hours by security guards before & manage to make friends out of them. They all know who she is in majority of the stores she enters

Throws a party every time her following goes up. There’s never not a reason to throw one

Was upset that Carl unfollowed her once and figured Hannah made him do it. Which wasn’t true, Hannah was sure of herself now & doesn’t feel the need to be jealous, the man could follow whoever he wanted—she knew he barely stayed on IG in the first place. He thought it was too shallow

So when Chelsea called him one night sobbing he was utterly confused, he didn’t understand why a follow meant so much

He reluctantly followed her back

Thrilled to know Elijah, Lucas, & Carl all keep up with her. Oh & the rest of the boys ofc!

Chats with Jakub! They also hang out. They’re a bit of a odd pairing but they get along well, he’s basically another big brother to her but she actually likes him—

Afraid of the dark, keeps fairy lights lit throughout the night in her bedroom, keeps scent infused night lights in her hallways

Believes in feng shui

I feel like her voice is soft like jennifer Tilly’s?

Idk what her sun sign is? Is she a sag far as daydreaming cause she does that. I KNOW she has Leo in her chart, she’s dramatic, warm, likes to be admired & appreciated. Sun sign I need help? Maybe she’s a Sagittarius sun? + Leo moon + libra rising

Has a collection of celeb gossip magazines that she keeps on a stand next to her pink velvet chair beside her bow window

I think she will be the first islander that gets pregnant tbh & it’s by an architect (the guy I mentioned/envisioned that’s been waiting on her to realize he can give her the love she needs or prove he can balance her out) or firefighter or someone “manly” she wouldn’t end up with a islander I don’t think

she has a girl & names her, “adore”

Canon: Still wants 5 kids but we’ll see how that goes & if it’ll change, it’s been a bit difficult not drinking Prosecco but she’s got a lovely baby out of it

Crushes? Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Alfred Enoch, Alex Pettyfer, Joe Cole, Gregg Sulkin, Frank Dillane, Charlie Rowe, & Hero Fiennes Tiffin

Can listen to anything that’s got a good beat. But we all know she’s a pop & folk genre lover. She listens to: Astrid S, Maty Noyes, Cher Lloyd, Bebe Rexha, Allie X, Poppy, POST MALONE, etc.

Anthem? Gabrielle Aplin — Until the sun comes up

#litg #litg2 #litg s2 #litg Chelsea #litg carl #litg headcanon #litg headcanons #litg au #50/50 like Chelsea lol #she’s sweet but there’s things that she’s done that makes me side eye her #wouldn’t keep her around my man if she’s single tbh lmao #litg3 #litg s3

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thechildoflightning · 5 years

Text

Forecast

Title: Forecast

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Remile

Word Count: 3217

~~~

Summary:

An average fall morning with Remile, ft. depression fog, broke college students buying expensive coffee, teeny tiny pumpkins, emotional distress, and succulents (not in that order).

For the lovely @illogicallyinclined’s hockey au.

Warnings: Depression, Seasonal Affective Disorder

[ao3 link]

~~~

Forecast

Remy had mixed feelings about October and the approaching holidays and seasons.

On one hand- October meant Halloween which meant seasonal drinks like Pumpkin Spice. It also meant that decorations went up and he and Emile would get a bunch of those ittie bittie pumpkins to put literally everywhere in their apartment. Emile would light his candles and the apartment would smell like falling leaves, and apples, and pumpkin pie. He loved it.

On the other hand- October brought the beginnings of Remy’s seasonal affective disorder- which he had just nicknamed “The Big Sad.” Seasonal depression adding onto his regular depression was just another weight on his back, until it became an almost struggle to just be at a decent mood level. He hated it

This year had hit him hard.

He wasn’t even sure why.

So here he was, lying on the bed he shared with Emile, blinking up at the ceiling and trying to convince himself to just… get up.

He could. He knew he could.

It was always the mornings too. The mornings were a bit harder than everything else because now he had the whole day looming ahead of him and it just seemed so long and forbidding.

Over the years, Remy had counteracted this with a routine. If mornings were always going to be hard for him, might as well give him something to get up for, right? So he had collected succulents over the past few years, slowly decorating the apartment. He’d check them all every morning, fingers gliding over their leaves carefully to take note of growth, decay, light damage, shade damage, soil dryness, and much more.

Had he really expected to learn this much about succulents? No. But he had. And he loved it.

Most importantly, it gave him a reason to get up.

He would then make himself breakfast, and Emile some too if he was around, before heading to classes, work, practice, or whatever he had that day.

The routine kept him moving, kept him active, kept him from not sitting in bed all day long.

These days, it generally wasn’t even a struggle. But he woke up on the third day of October with a weight in his bones and the faint smell of ginger and cinnamon in the air.

His alarm had gone off twice now. The second one was his safety. His “okay, you’re having a rough day, here’s a few extra minutes, but then you need to get up alarm.”

He hadn’t gotten up.

Nope. Instead, he was blinking lazily up at the ceiling, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes and a heavy weight settled across his chest. Fuck depression. Fuck SAD.

This was, of course, when the door opened.

“Remy!” his roommate? friend? boyfriend? partner’s voice cheered as he entered the apartment, “Guess what! The cafeteria put up little pumpkins today and I remembered we hadn’t gone out and gotten any yet and we don’t have weights or Zumba today, and you don’t work until later so we totally have time to-”

Emile cut himself off as he realized that the kitchen area (that was more than a kitchenette but less than an actual kitchen) did not actually contain the person he was attempting to rant to.

Remy would give him to the count of three.

Sure enough, right as Remy ticked the final number off in his head, the door to their room (which had technically started as Remy’s but was now really both of theirs) was pushed open by Emile.

“Rem?” the voice called.

He couldn't quite make his vocal cords work, but he could shift slightly under the bed covers.

Seconds later the light in the room was flickering on and Emile’s warm gaze met Remy’s cold one.

“Oh,” Emile said, taking in the situation, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Remy replied meekly.

Emile sighed at the reply. But it wasn’t one of those sighs of frustration or annoyance. It was one of those small sighs that was just a breath of air. A reassurance. Emile always sighed like that. Remy thought it was maybe a stupid thing to love, but he loved it nonetheless.

Emile walked forward and settled on the edge of the bed, extending an arm with the palm face up.

A knot grew in Remy’s throat, even as he extended his own hand to grasp Emile’s.

“You’re usually up by now,” Emile offered.

“I know,” he said.

“What are you at?”

Remy sighed. This sigh wasn’t like Emile’s nor was it one of frustration. No, it was a sigh representative of the crushing weight of everything in the world building up and accumulating, dragging Remy down with it.

“Big SAD’s at like a six or seven? It’s, it’s not so bad. Just used to it being a lot better now. This year hit hard,” Remy confided.

Emile nodded and rubbed his thumb soothingly against the back of Remy’s hand.

“I need to get up,” Remy said.

“You usually check on your plants,” Emile said. It was his way of agreeing, his way of encouraging and supporting Remy on days like this without providing pressure. Holding his hand and grounding him, reminding him he wasn’t alone. Talking about his plants and their needs, reminding him he had a routine. That getting up seemed impossible, but it wasn’t.

Remy groaned loudly before dropping Emile’s hand and rolling to the side of the bed. He let his weight carry himself over the edge, caught him just before he fell, and stood.

He made it out of bed. That was something.

(Emile’s soft laughter at his behavior was also quite the reward).

As Emile continued to giggle, the faint outline of a smile graced Remy’s face. He rushed forward and lifted Emile up, twirling him once before setting him down and giving his hair a soft kiss. He released Emile, and then started for the day.

“Plants first,” Remy said, “Then breakfast. Sound good?”

“I can help with breakfast,” Emile offered.

“No,” Remy insisted immediately, “No I always make breakfast, it’s okay.”

Emile shrugged, but relented without further argument.

Remy moved to the windowsill that contained his plants, and began to check the first one’s leaves. Emile stood right next to him, not quite in his way, but close to it.

“Maybe I should get some plants. Maybe some flowers that can grow indoors.”

“Em, honey, you don’t have the time.”

Em pouted, sweater paws folding over his chest, but didn’t protest Remy’s claim. Remy laughed at the sight and moved to the next plant.

The fog of depression still settled in his brain, but now that he was up and talking and moving, it seemed to be lifting a bit more. It was settling back to be manageable once more, instead of overwhelming. He could deal with that.

“Remy! This one has flowers!” Emile suddenly exclaimed, from further down the windowsill, which considering the windowsills length, was just a few more inches down.

Remy pulled his attention away from the current succulent he was inspecting, and directed it towards the plant Emile had been pointing out.

Sure enough, just in between two thick green nubs, a long green stem with tiny blooming white flowers appeared. Remy smiled at the sight and Emile tucked into his side.

“It’s pretty,” Emile claimed.

“Mmhmm, yeah,” Remy agreed, hooking his head over Emile’s own, and holding him there for a minute. He wasn’t really quite tall enough to do such, so he had to stand on his tiptoes and raise his chin a bit, but it was so worth it.

They stood there together a bit, peering at the little white flowers, before moving onward with their day.

During breakfast, Emile re-explained what he had started to that morning when he had first entered the apartment.

He told Remy about how the main dining hall now had the tiny baby pumpkins up in it and how they absolutely had to get some for the apartment themselves. He was practically begging, coming up with a billion and one reasons that they should get them, as if Remy didn’t love them just as much.

After breakfast, they cleaned up, and Remy showered and dressed, before heading out to get said pumpkins. Emile had been right, it was hard to find substantial time when they were both free to do things together, and Thursday mornings happened to be one of the few times. They still didn’t have a lot of time, but it was something.

They were walking in the direction of the grocery story when Emile came to a complete halt. Remy blinked and tried to figure out what had happened.

Just a minute ago Emile had been talking about one of his classes. Remy had been trying to listen, really he had, but the fog in his brain had started to pick up again, making each step a little bit harder and listening to even mindless chatter almost impossible

It also meant that if Emile had given any warning or explanation for stopping, Remy had completely missed it.

“Emile?” he asked.

“Let’s get coffee,” he said, gesturing to the Starbucks in front of them.

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Emile knew he was going to say yes.

“Coffee’s expensive,” he mentioned. They were broke college students which was why it was completely unfair of Emile to say they were getting coffee because of course Remy was going to say yes but they couldn’t keep buying the stuff if they wanted to have food for meals and tiny pumpkins.

“Yeah, but I know you love the seasonal drinks. My treat,” was Emile’s response.

“Emile, I’m literally the one with the discount.”

And the one with the father that was more than willing to fund Remy’s coffee addiction three times over but he was trying to adult himself with minimal support from parents. Minimal support meaning yes please pay for my education and part of rent that is very appreciated but also I should probably learn how to feed and clothe myself I’ll let you know if I’m failing at that and then you can swoop in and save me.

“Okay. Then your discount, my money. Mostly my treat.”

Emile’s defense was weak at best but it didn’t really take much to convince Remy in the first place. Plus, he had that blinding smile on his face that just made Remy melt.

“Okay,” he agreed, “Okay. Coffee. But we can’t make it a habit.”

Emile shrugged, nodded, and pulled him towards the door.

“We won’t,” he promised, “Just today. Special occasion.”

Remy grinned lightly. Emile was always saying stuff like that, calling mundane things special or important. Remy pretended to hate it, but somehow, whenever Emile did it, it really did make whatever event just a little bit magical.

“And what, pray tell, is so special,” he drawled, dropping his arm onto Emile’s shoulder.

Emile shrugged and moved forward to get in line, Remy trailing afterwards, leaning his weight against him just to piss him off. (It didn’t seem to be working as Emile just sorta snuggled into his side and, great, now he was blushing).

“It’s special because…” Emile trailed, before his eyes lit up like gems, “Because you got out of bed this morning!”

A lump grew in Remy’s throat and he had the urge to take his arm off of Emile’s shoulder. The blush that had spread across his cheeks faded.

“I did,” he said, aiming for casual, “Y’know, it’s pretty simple. You just yank off the covers and hop out. Or fall off in this morning's case.”

Emile gave him a look.

“Yeah. It is simple. Doesn’t mean it's easy,” Emile said, with that wisdom he seemed to always carry and spew out. Damn emotional intelligence.

Remy did drop his arm this time, pulling it away from Emile.

Emile frowned and opened his mouth, but didn’t get the opportunity to say anything more as they made it to the front of the line.

Remy moved forward quickly and ordered for himself. When he was done, he went to order for Emile like he always did, but stopped when he realized that Emile hadn’t actually told him what he wanted this time.

See, Remy always ordered for Emile. Emile’s anxiety made it harder for him to talk to strangers, especially when it involved ordering or asking for something. It was certainly something Emile was capable of doing, and something he sometimes insisted on doing just so that he knew he still could, but it was also something he generally preferred not to do. Remy had no such issues and so Emile would tell him what he wanted and Remy would order for them both.

But Emile hadn't gotten the chance to tell him what he wanted. Remy could guess, but he hated to do that when Emile was right here and could choose what he wanted himself. He hated to assume, even if he was usually pretty spot on. Knowing Emile for such a long time made it pretty easy at this point.

The worker was looking at them now, as Remy’s pause went on for a touch too long.

“Emile?” Remy asked.

“Oh, uh,” the other boy stuttered, before rattling his own order off.

They didn’t really speak until they had left the shop and continued on their way to the grocery store.

“Earlier,” Emile started, “I know you can get out of bed. I wasn’t trying to- I dunno- mock you or something. I just know that it can be hard for you- that it was hard this morning. I-” he shrugged, “I’m not proud of you because that’s just-” he wrinkled his nose up, “That’s not something for me to be proud of, but you… You should be proud of yourself.”

Remy sighed and reached out to clutch Emile’s hand.

“I know,” he agreed, “It’s just that…” he sighed, and the fog in his brain continued to swirl around, “Thank you,” he said instead and worked on trying to maybe take Emile’s words to heart. The swirling didn’t seem to like it, but it could fuck off because he was going to buy little mini pumpkins with his- his Emile and it was going to be great.

Emile squeezed his hand.

“Pumpkins?” Remy offered, and Emile just smiled and nodded in return.

They didn’t have the time to decorate their apartment with all the little pumpkins they bought because they were starting to run late for morning skate. So they left the clump on the small table in the main room before getting ready and heading towards practice.

As they did so, a little foreign weight dropped in Remy’s stomach. It wasn’t like the fog. It was more like dread. It was starting to become a familiar feeling whenever practice and games approached. Remy absolutely hated it. Plus, morning skate wasn’t even really practice, it was just to get them moving so why the hell did Remy feel this way?

He enjoyed hockey. He did. He really really did.

(Just maybe not lately).

But he ignored the feeling, as well as the concerned look from Emile and headed out the door. They had morning skate to attend.

It wasn’t until late evening that they were both home at the same time.

The moment Remy walked through the doors he wrestled Emile away from his studying because come on Em, you can take ten minutes to decorate the apartment. Emile relented, standing to give a soft kiss on Remy’s jaw, and moved towards the pumpkins from earlier. Remy absolutely did not blush whatsoever and followed.

“Remy,” Emile commented once they were finishing up, “Are you- Are you doing alright lately?”

The fog buzzed louder.

Remy let out a weak chuckle.

“I’m always doing alright,” he said.

Emile just gave him a look.

“No really,” Remy insisted, even as a lump formed in his throat, “I’m- I mean. I’m okay. Uh- this morning was hard. Today wasn’t- wasn’t the best. I can tell this year isn’t going to be the best. But yeah, yeah Em I’m okay. I promise.”

Emile’s worry dropped a bit but didn’t fade completely.

“Okay,” he said, “I- You’ve just seemed more stressed lately. Uh- with Logan-” Emile swallowed and Remy squeezed his eyes tight for a second, “With Logan… out. I mean, it’s a lot more on you.”

“I’ve been Starter before,” Remy said gently.

“Yeah. I know.”

Because Remy had been Starter before. But not- not like this. Never like this before. And they both knew it.

“It is more,” Remy admitted, “But it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Emile said, and let it rest.

What Remy didn’t say was that it wasn’t the extra games, extra playtime that was getting to him.

It was the team’s faces.

It was how they went into games expecting to lose and Roman and Patton couldn’t agree on a single thing and Remus was getting reckless again and even Deceit was joining him and Virgil just seemed off and the fans hated that Remy was taking Logan’s place because it was Logan’s place and sure Remy was good but he wasn’t Logan good and they all knew it and it wasn’t even a bad thing but it did mean that even playing his best Remy knew he was letting his team down, letting Logan down, letting himself down.

But it wasn’t the playtime.

Oh no, it was so much more than just the playtime.

The fog expanded, pushing down and back on Remy’s brain, encoating him in a layer of discontentment and hopelessness and misery.

Remy sighed. He set the last pumpkin down.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” he said.

Emile nodded. He usually checked the clock when Remy announced he was retiring for the night, making sure that it hadn’t gotten too late yet. But he didn’t bother this time. They both knew it was still much too early for either of them to be sleeping.

“Okay,” Emile said, and smiled, but it didn't quite stretch across his face like it usually did, “I have work to do still, but I’ll join you in awhile.”

“Okay,” Remy agreed.

And they both stood there staring at each other.

Then, suddenly, Emile lurched forward and grasped Remy tightly, clutching the taller boy in a tight hug. Startled, but not about to deny the hug, Remy gripped back, just as tight.

He didn’t start to cry, but it was close.

“Love you,” Emile said.

“Love you too,” Remy responded, voice muffled from where his head was buried in Emile’s neck and trying not to cry.

With that, he headed off to bed.

Later, Emile would slip in next to him, acting in a rare occasion as the big spoon. That next morning would be a little bit easier and three mornings after that would be a little bit harder. Remy would continue to get out of bed.

Hockey would continue and Logan wouldn’t return and tensions on the team would get worse. Through all of it, Remy would be caught in the absolute worse position as Logan’s replacement.

But for now, Remy would go to bed early, fog pressing down, harsh and unforgiving, but still much softer than the upcoming storm. Because that’s really all this was, wasn’t it? The calm before the storm.

~~~

taglist below

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oingos-bitch · 4 years

Text

Another JoJo Mall Fanfic™ -- And So It Begins. . . (Chapter 2)

The next day was spent wandering around nearby cities; cities far away; small towns; beaches; concrete jungles; even mountains! Just to search for the best spot for a shopping centre. Whereas it was exciting for JoJo, it was annoying and pointless to Dio. He was almost tempted to buy the deed to a few acres of a small desert town just to ensure that they wouldn't have to travel anymore. 'No, I have to drag it out and make him regret putting his effort into his stupid little mall,' he thought.

It was almost dinnertime when Jonathan suddenly slammed onto the brakes, sending Dio crashing onto the dashboard.

"WHAT IN THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR?"

"Ah, sorry," Jonathan replied absentmindedly.

Wondering what besides him was so amazing to look at, Dio turned his face up, his jaw dropping and his face sharing the same astonished expression as JoJo's. The building before them was a massive and impressive mash of glass and stone, and throughout its exterior was a lovely marriage of old-fashioned and modern husks of former stores. Though he hated to admit it, Dio was just starting to feel optimistic about the whole mall project; and though he'd deny it, he was grateful that JoJo had been able to spot such a perfect place.

Beaming, JoJo picked up his phone and dialed the realtor's number with gusto.

"Hello? Yes, this is Jonathan Joestar, how soon can we meet up?"

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A few weeks had passed since they had bought the mall, and both men were up to their heads in planning! Jonathan woke up earlier than usual to brainstorm and found himself skipping meals just to finish his list of necessities and itty-bitty details. Erina was starting to worry and made it known, frequently reminding him to sit down and at least have a cup of tea and a snack.

"After all," she'd say, "I'm sure Dio is not worrying about it as much as you are!"

He was.

In fact, he could be considered worse than JoJo. He had switched his hours of sleep for hours of work, substituting most of his meals for Redbull and not even bothering to dress up like he usually did. The last time Jonathan went to visit him, he screamed loudly, for he thought that the person who answered the door was another one of Dio's victims rather than Dio himself. Thankfully, both men worried much less when most of the remodeling and minor details were underway, and both men could finally sleep easy, knowing that there was just one more meeting that needed to be carried out.

So there they stood one Sunday morning, on the corner of a busy street, the massive building situated between a bumbling city and a tranquil park, dark green tape wrapped around the construction site, dozens of hardhats moving in and out and around of the edifice. Pointing an expensive-looking manicured nail at the mall's map, Dio spoke.

"So, what store is going to be between the Payless and the GreenCrush?"

"Well, I'd thought quite a bit about it, and I believe that we should add a WingStop there!"

"Hmm....What about a Hooters?" The vampire suggested mischievously.

Jonathan's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "N-NO! IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE A FAMILY-FRIENDLY MALL!"

"But what fun is a completely family-friendly place?"

"A place can be fun without being devoid of innocence!"

"I very much doubt that; there are going to be teenagers here, you do realize?"

"Well, they'll just have to find some way to entertain themselves, or go to a different mall."

Dio exasperatedly threw his hands in the air. "This isn't just about what YOU want, JoJo! Father let me work on this too!"

"Then why don't you go and ask him to help you?" JoJo retorted.

"FINE! I will!" Dio proceeded to dial his number. In the most meek and sob-inducing voice he could muster, he whined.

"Daddy, JoJo won't let me add any stores of my own! I begged him to let me add a couple of more adult stores, but he said that it needs to be completely family-friendly!....Oh, I see....Okay...Okay! Thank you, Father!"

He snapped the phone shut and handed it to Jonathan. "See? I did ask him for help, and I was told that it was perfectly fine. In fact, he repeated my own words, 'After all, there are going to be teenagers and adults shopping here.' You can call him yourself, if you don't believe me."

Jonathan looked down at the phone and pouted. 'Oh, well it's just going to be ONE store. How bad can it be?'

And so, after a few more arguments and a lot more phone calls, A Hooters was planted inside the store. And a Spencer's. And a Dick's Last Resort.

Now all that was left was to hire employees.

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He hoped none of his co-workers saw him do this.

Clad in a pair of black skinny jeans and a large grey hoodie, Risotto looked around before snatching one of the many flyers posted around the city. A new mall was to be opened soon, and with the recent pay cuts the Boss had made, he couldn't afford most of the necessities for their jobs or for personal expenses. And being a man who hated to see his team being let down, what better way to support them than to make up for that recent budget cut? So, there he was, frantically plugging the digits into his phone. Just as he rose his phone to his face, he felt a small frame bump into him.

"Ow, sorry!"

He turned around to help, only to be met with familiar lilac eyebrows and teal eyes, without a mask.

"Melone?!"

He stood, dusting himself off.

"Yep, it's me! I didn't think I'd see you around here, Capo..." Melone's pleasantly surprised face turned to one of curiosity as he eyed the pale scrap in Risotto's palm.

"What is that?"

"Oh, it's nothing, just a small concert I was thinking about going to."

"Oooh, may I see? I bet it's another one of those underground metal bands you like-"

The tall man stepped back as Melone reached for the paper, making him nearly fall in the process. He pouted, questioning, "What's so wrong about it? It's just a band-"

"Yeah, but, um- I'm kind of embarrassed about it, you may not like it..."

Melone rolled his eyes, "But it's just a name, how bad can it be?"

"Ummm..." Groaning internally, Risotto decided that it would be best just to give it up, but alas, the scrap of paper was missing as he went to hand it to Melone. He gasped, "Where'd it..."

Melone giggled, holding the paper in front of his face, "Got it.~"

He skimmed over the paper as Risotto looked on nervously. "So, a second job, huh?..." Risotto slightly stammered over his words, soon being cut off with a "Count me in!"

"What?"

"You're not the only one who's thought of this, Capo.~ I've been looking for a while, too. So, put in a good word for me, if you please." He smiled up at him.

Still in a bit of shock, Risotto hesitated before finally picking up the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Joestar? My name is Risotto Nero, and my friend and I would like to apply for a job at your mall, specifically..." He glanced down at the scrap and swallowed his pride.

"...Specifically at the Hooters."

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anoutlandishfanfic · 5 years

Text

Idyllwild AU: The One With Faith’s Story

The premise of Idyllwild? FLUFF! PURE. UNADULTERATED. FLUFF.

As some of you may know, I’m a nanny by day and the MamaBear I work with is pregnant and close to term {{Edit: LittleBrother was born today! 5/10/19; 8lbs 10oz, 12in}} and the result is a feels fest in all things regarding the Fraser bairns. This chapter started out as a straight-up birth story, but it didn’t quite work with the Idyllwild feel and a sort of bedtime story was what I wound up with. Hugs to @thatsoccercoach for rocking the last minute beta.

Each chapter is meant to be stand alone, but you can find more over here on the master list. The only thing you need to know is that Faith will be six years old in a matter of days and Claire and Jamie have just had their fifth bairn (Counting Fergus. Can’t forget Gus!) a few months back… you can find that adventure here. Another fun take on a birth story.

It also worked out that Faith’s birthday in Idyllwild canon is May 12th, which is Mother’s Day this year! So, its a two fer one! Enjoy!

Bedtime, the Ninth of May, 2016; Lallybroch.

“Da, tell me ‘bout my birthday.”

“How ‘bout the story of the three wee piggies, instead?” I sighed wearily, though smiling as I pulled Faith’s covers up around her ears, just as she liked them.

“No, Da! I wanna hear my story!”

“Oh, aye?” I rose a brow at this insistence. “Aren’t you tired of it yet?”

Faith was absolutely besotted with her baby sister, Quinn, who had the entire household at her beck and call. The day Quinn arrived into the world just four short months ago had left quite an impression on Faith and she naturally assumed that all birthdays had stories such as her sister’s.

In that she wasn’t much mistaken, for my firstborn had made quite the entrance herself. The story of the day she was born was Faith’s favorite of late and I’d lost count of how many times I’d spun a happy, sentimental tale out of what was possibly the most terrifying day of my life.

Faith giggled, the tip of her nose emerging for just a moment as she pleaded, “Le do thoil, Da?”

I grinned as I caved in, powerless to say no.

“Aye, mo bheag gradh,” my heart clenched as I saw her not as the healthy, vibrant, headstrong kindergartener before me, but as she had been the first time I lay eyes on her… a tiny, helpless preemie in her isolette in the neonatal intensive care unit with a solid, plate glass window separating us.

I reached out my hand, desperate to replace the memory of the feeling of cold glass against the tips of my fingers with that of Faith’s tousled curls. She turned her cheek into my palm as I tucked a wisp behind her ear and her dark lashes brushed against me like the fragile wings of a butterfly. My stomach clenched at the heady rush of emotions surging through me, making me marvel at the utter miracle before me.

“How’s it start, then?”

It was a stalling tactic and I knew she’d see right through it, but I found it difficult to speak around the lump that had suddenly formed at the back of my throat.

“You know, Da!”

Her deft fingers grabbed a hold of mine, lifting them off her face in order to burrow herself deeper beneath the covers, her voice now muffled as she prompted, “Once a’pon’a time…”

The lilt of her speech slowed as she made herself cozy, her words jumbling together into an only semicoherant blob.

Oh, how she could steal the very breath from my lungs.

“Once upon a time,” I echoed, finding my smile again as I settled myself more comfortably against the headboard of the bed, “Mummy was working at the hospital with Auntie Geillis.”

“But Auntie wanted Mummy to go home an’ take a nap!” Faith cheerfully interrupted.

Pausing, I gave her a look. Her blue eyes sparkled, even amid the shadows, and I chuckled to myself as I reached out to tickle her neck.

“Are you tellin’ the story or am I, mo bheag leannan ruadh?”

“You, Da! Keep goin’!” she shrieked with laughter.

With that, we both settled back down and my thoughts turned inwards as I retreated into the past.

I remembered the way Claire looked as Faith grew within her, the special, contemplative gleam in my wife’s eyes as the swell of our firstborn became more than obvious beneath her scrubs. I heard her parting see you later, luv as she left for work that morning. She’d been pale and I could tell something was off. I should have pressed her about it, should have had her stay home and keep off her feet.

But if she hadn’t been at work, if she hadn’t had immediate and professional medical attention… would she still be with us today?

Would either of them be?

Shaking my head to banish the thought, I continued, “Mummy was tired and had a wee bit of a headache, but she wanted to stay and keep an eye on a patient who wasn’t feeling very good.”

Faith’s brow furrowed and her gaze turned thoughtful.

“Mummy takes verra good care of her patients, doesn’t she, Da?”

Sometimes at her own expense, lovie.

“Aye, tha’ she does,” I agreed instead. “So, Mummy agreed to work at her desk an’ Auntie would keep checking in on her.”

Claire’s patient had been in and out of her operating theater all week. It’d been a tough case, requiring her utmost attention, and even though our home was certainly within on-call distance, she’d wanted to remain in the building. Yet, even remaining seated with adequate hydration on hand, Claire’s headache worsened and she began to feel dizzy.

“But by lunchtime, Auntie said Mummy needed to come lie down on the wee bed at the end of the hallway.”

“An’ then Mummy called you an’ told you come an’ help her feels better?”

A dhia, that phone call took ten years off my life.

Jamie, I need you. How soon can you be here?

“She did,” I swallowed hard, “and I came and saw her in that wee room a’ the end of the hall.”

Her blood pressure had skyrocketed by the time I arrived and she was surrounded by no less than three doctors who were accompanied by at least ten nurses and a considerable crowd had even begun to form outside her door. It felt like the entire doctoral staff of the hospital was attending to Claire and I went into protective overdrive as Geillis ushered me to my wife’s side.

Caring not for hurt feelings and bruised egos, I’d shoved my way through and nearly climbed onto the narrow hospital bed beside my wife, taking her into my arms as much as was possible. She’d clung to me weakly, trembling against my chest as everyone tried to update me on her condition at once. I ended up ordering all of them out, save Geillis, and they begrudgingly moved to the hallway as she patiently explained to me what was going on.

Skipping all of that, I continued, “When I got there, Auntie told me today was the day you were going to be born.”

“Were you excited?”

Scared as hell, more like.

Lifting my shoulder in a half shrug, I tried to explain, “I was, but I was a little bit nervous because it wasn’t quite time for you to be born yet.”

“I was early,” she profoundly stated.

Faith had always known she was a preemie and found a great deal of pride in routinely shocking her doctors with her health, stamina, and growth. She’d been back to wow the nurses who had become family during our stay at Regions several times and, at the moment, she wanted to grow up to be just like them… so she could help her Mum at the hospital.

“You were thirty five days early, to be exact.”

Her eyes widened, “That’s a lot of days.”

“It was, and that’s why Mummy needed to go see Dr. Joe right away.”

Joe Abernathy had been Claire’s closest friend in medical school and they’d completed their residency together at Regions, where he’d stayed after graduation. He’d been a groomsman at our wedding and was a dear friend of the family, as well as being responsible for saving the lives of both my wife and child.

“Inna helicopter!” Faith wiggled with excitement as this was one of her favorite parts of the story.

I somehow found a genuine smile, seeing it as the grand adventure that she did, if for only a moment.

“Aye, Mummy got to ride in a helicopter.”

“Did you get to ride too, da?”

I’d certainly tried to.

After refusing to leave my wife’s side, my uncle Dougal MacKenzie had to physically restrain me as they loaded Claire into the LifeLink chopper.

“No,” I shook my head, forcing my smile to stay in place. “There wasn’t room for me to go with her, so Uncle Dougal took me in his squad car, instead.”

Idyllwild’s Chief of Police, Dougal MacKenzie, had been called in to ensure things went smoothly as our small community rarely had such an urgent medical emergency. I’d been thankful for his clear thinking in the moment and how he’d taken over all communication responsibilities. He’d gotten a hold of my brother Willie — who lived in Minneapolis and met us at the hospital — almost immediately, ensuring I wasn’t alone when he had to return to Idyllwild.

“Did you get to go really really fast?”

“Aye, he turned on the lights and the sirens and we went as fast as we could.”

I remembered very little of that trip, nearly distraught and barely able to stay in my seat as Dougal navigated the highway system. We arrived after Claire did, obviously, and it had taken some time to find the proper lobby to wait in and even longer to get an update on my wife’s condition.

“Dr. Joe was taking good care of Mummy when I got there so I couldn’t see her right away, but I waited right where they told me and prayed for the both of you,” I continued hesitantly, finding the next parts of the story the hardest to sugar coat. My voice deepened, almost becoming hoarse as I skipped ahead.

“But then they brought me to come meet you for the very first time!”

Faith grinned, pushing herself up on her pillows in order to see me better as she asked, “Was I teeny tiny?”

The tiniest, my love.

Having been born at just over five pounds, Faith was easily the smallest baby I’d ever seen — let alone held — but she was, in actuality, one of the larger NICU residents. There’d an itty bitty preemie named Ben who was there when she arrived and remained when we left, giving us more of a point of reference and much to be thankful for. Another wee bairn named Zoe was in between Ben and Faith, size wise, and arrived towards the end of our stay, as well.

I reached out with a smile and wiggled Faith’s almost constant companion: a stuffed lamb named Tally. Claire’s uncle Quentin Lambert had given it to her, one of her first gifts at the hospital, and it appeared in all of her monthly, milestone photographs. I’d found infinite amusement in the pun, something that Uncle Lamb admitted he hadn’t realized until he was purchasing the beloved toy, and it was certainly a high point of Faith’s story.

“You were no bigger than your wee lambie,” I demonstrated.

“Tally was bigger than me?!”

“A bit, aye, she was.”

Faith took a moment to delight in this before asking for more specifics.

“When did you get to hold me?”

My stomach clenched, remembering just how long the excruciating wait with Willie and later Jenny in that dour lobby had been. I knew they’d ushered me back to meet Faith as soon as they could, but my daughter was a full hour old before I was able to see her through a window and another thirty minutes older before I got to actually hold her for the first time.

“Well, I had to wait a wee bit while they made sure you were healthy and strong before I could hold you,” I explained.

“An’ I was!”

“Aye, mo beannachd, you were.”

She’d needed to be on oxygen for her first few days in the NICU, but her tiny body quickly rallied and she no longer needed the extra assistance long before was expected.

“And then you named me Faith!”

Claire and I knew were having a girl and had time to discuss names for quite a while before Faith’s premature birth. We’d tossed many around and even settled on a few favorites, but hadn’t really made a definitive choice. Claire had championed the name Faith almost from the get go, but I’d been more partial to having it be one of her middle names, as was Scottish tradition. I’d wanted to name her Elizabeth, taking her mother’s middle name, but Claire protested that it was far too formal and that she’d never cared for her Aunt Elizabeth, anyway.

Jenny had gone to great lengths to track down the hospital chaplain after I left to be with Faith and he joined me after I’d been with her for about two hours. He was, quite literally, a godsend and was able to keep me company for another three. He offered to baptize her and I eagerly accepted, grabbing my siblings from the lobby to stand as godparents on short notice.

“Aye, Father Anselm came and baptized you.”

“Faith Elizabeth Jane Beauchamp Fraser!” She giggled, for her full name and those of her siblings were of great amusement to her of late.

“Auntie Jenny thought it was fitting that you had a name as big as your courageous spirit.”

“Unca Willie too?”

“Aye,” I remembered the look of complete awe as he looked down at his niece. “He thought your name was perfect too.”

This clarified, Faith was ready to move on.

“An’ then you got to see Mummy?”

“I did!” I agreed, eagerly obliging to her desire to keep moving on. “Dr. Joe came and told me that Mummy was resting and I could go to her room and see her.”

I would never forget the feeling of relief that washed over me as I looked up to find Joe at the door of the NICU, his face communicating that the worst was over without so much as opening his mouth. He did open his mouth, though, and quickly got me up to speed, ushering me through the twists and turns of Region’s unknown hallways to my wife’s bedside.

Faith cheered, “An’ Mummy wanted to see me!”

This was the understatement of the century.

Claire’s body didn’t handle coming out of anesthesia well under usual circumstances and the emotional trauma she’d experienced prior to going under meant she was absolutely distraught when she woke. I could hear her calling for me and asking for her baby as we got closer and I broke into a dead run from the end of the hallway, nearly lifting her off the bed entirely and into my lap in my effort to calm her fears.

She’s okay, mo nighean donn. She’s safe, she’s strong.

“Aye, she did,” I managed a smile. “Mommy got to meet you a little bit later, but I told her all about you and that you were strong and—“

“Stubborn!”

My smile turned genuine in an instant and both of us shared a grin at this, for — despite her caring and sometimes shy disposition — my first born was as immovable as the Rock of Gibraltar when she wished to be. This attribute most often manifested itself as definite opinions and a habit of voicing them as loud as her little lungs could manage.

“I told her how you didn’t like the wee tubes across your toes and how you would fuss until things were just right.”

“An’ then Mummy got to hold me!”

I found Faith’s hand, squeezing it tightly as I remembered the look of complete joy and reverent awe on my wife’s face.

“Mummy loved you so much that they found a way for her to be with you while you both got better.”

It had taken some finagling and bending of protocols, but Joe managed to get Claire reunited with Faith within twenty-four hours of her birth. It happened in the middle of the night and he’d dubbed the plan Operation Mother Goose. Mother and daughter were able to bond skin to skin, giving both a tangible peace that hadn’t been there before. Parting again had been rough, but Joe had assured Claire that he also had a plan for how they could continue to see each other, though both mother and daughter were of fragile health.

“They made her a special spot! Just for Mummy!”

“Aye, just for Mummy.”

In one corner of the NICU — a ward surprisingly large in contrast to its tiny patrons — the nurses prepared a space where Claire could visit our daughter and still follow her doctor’s recovery instructions. Many of the nurses knew Claire from her time there before our marriage, though she hadn’t been in pediatrics, and they were eager to bend over backwards to facilitate these visits.

The space changed as Claire’s needs did, as regained health and movement, and she was eventually discharged from Regions five days before Faith was. She joined me in the spare room of my brother and sister in law’s home, going back and forth to the hospital together.

“But then the day came when you were ready to come home!”

It could have easily felt as though I were walking on air as we left the hospital together, had the weight of the car seat in my hands firmly tethered me to the ground and reality. I must have checked all the bolts and snaps and straps four times before I climbed into the driver’s seat, leaving Claire positioned beside the car seat in the back. It was over an hour car ride wasn’t ideal for Faith’s first and we ended up making quite a few pit stops to soothe her before we finally reached Idyllwild.

“I drove sooo slow — all the way home — because I had my most precious lassies wi’ me.”

“An’ then Gus showed me my room!”

“He did!” I grinned, relieved to finally be nearing the end of our tale. “Gus was so excited to have you home!”

Fergus had stayed with Jenny and Ian while Faith was at Regions, something he insisted on so that we could stay with his doux petit colibri. He came to visit as often as he could, but hospitals — especially intensive care units — aren’t very conducive to active ten year olds boys and, being as sensitive as he was, he didn’t like feeling in the way.

But he, along with my parents, was there to greet us as we arrived home… our family of four finally gathered together in Faith’s nursery for the very first time. There was a low sofa along one wall and we’d all piled onto it, limbs entangled as we watched Faith coo. After the spell had lifted, Fergus insisted on taking Faith on a tour of the entire house, leading me by the hand from room to room as I held her so that she would know exactly where she was and just how very much she was loved.

“An’ then I growed up an’ up an’ Mummy had Bree an’ Jakey an’ Quinn an’ we all lived happily ever after!” Faith pronounced with a great deal of satisfaction.

“Aye, mo bheag nighean,” I kissed her brow, settling her back down beneath the covers. “That we did.”

…

About Five Minutes Later.

“She asleep?” Claire murmured from amidst the pillows, the downy head of our youngest bairn positioned comfortably at her breast.

I shed my shirt and climbed in beside them with a tired smile, “Aye, at last.”

Leaning towards her for a kiss, Claire eagerly turned her face to mine in response, greeting me with a warmth and affection that cleared away any residual vestiges of fear and regret that remained from dwelling on the past. She caught sight of them, though, as they retreated back into the far recesses of my mind and concern gathered in her eyes as she studied my face.

I shook my head, reassuringly, “She wanted to hear her story again.”

“Her story?”

“Of the day she was born.”

“Really?” she lifted one brow in amused question, shifting Quinn and offering her to me. I gladly took her, nestling her on my shoulder in order to burp her… something she didn’t particularly like.

“Oh, aye,” I dipped my chin and cooed in her ear for a moment, then explained, “Faith’s asked for it several times since Quinn was born.”

Understanding dawned and Claire grinned as she began to settle herself for bed, rearranging the bodice of her nightgown and the pillows around us, “What do you tell her?”

“About how you got to ride in a helicopter an’ how Joe took such good care of the both of you,” I shrugged, feeling a tad self conscious, wondering if she’d find the whole thing absurd or not a wise choice in regards to our daughter’s sensitive heart.

Her hand lifted to my arm, her palm brushing across my skin before settling just below my shoulder. The tops of Claire’s knuckles nudged our bairn’s leg as she did so, eliciting a wee sigh of contentment — for Quinn now returned the borrowed air from her wee tummy, thankfully without deposit — from her as she buried her face in my neck. Claire squeezed my arm reassuringly and I reached for her, covering her hand with my own.

The sensation of both my wife and child against my skin made me grow more and more sentimental with every heartbeat, loosening my tongue and bringing me to an idyllic place where everything that had gone wrong in the past was now completely right.

“I tell her about the special place the nurses set up for you… about how she got her name, when we brought her home.”

Claire’s lips brushed across the top of my hand before placing a tender kiss on my bare shoulder… the one she’d mended the day we met.

“Mmm, just the happy bits, then,” she intoned, the soft vibration of her voice sending a thrill down my spine.

My soul smiled as lifting my hand to her face, tipping her chin up for a real kiss as I affirmed, “Oh, aye… all of the happy bits.”

My fingers slid along her jaw and settled amidst the curls at the nape of her neck as I pulled her closer. I felt a laugh bubble up within her as she ever so slightly acquiesced, shifting ever so slightly to make things more comfortable, but remaining just far enough away as to leave me in want…

“Is she asleep, then?” I asked of our daughter, eager to have both of my hands free to wander the length of my wife.

Claire grinned, a knowing gleam in her eye as she nodded, gently nudging me towards the edge of her bed with her knee.

“Haste ye back,” she teased.

I thanked my lucky stars that Quinn cared little about where or how she slept — provided, of course, she had a full belly — and she didn’t so much as stir when I quickly deposited in her crib. Retracing my steps record time, I was beside my wife again a moment later, finally able to take her into my arms.

Claire melted against me with a contented sigh, much like the one our youngest had produced not long ago. My heart let out a sigh of its own as I found her lips once more and we sank deeper into each other’s embrace.

My fingers dipped beneath the supple, cotton folds that consisted of my wife’s favorite sleeping gown, delighting in the very feature that enabled her to nurse with ease at a moment’s notice. The material fell away at my touch and I crooned, “Have I told you how much I love seeing our bairns at your breast?”

Claire’s gaze softened, her eyes gleaming for a moment in the dim light.

“Not lately,” she murmured, looping her arms about my neck.

“Mmm,” I hummed, my lips against the tender skin of her neck, “I really must remedy that.”

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #idyllwild au #the one with faith's story

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