#ive asked him several times over thus past week

[fishybehavior]

I'm going to cry at work

I'm so fyck8ng done rn

#im so fucking angry rn #tw rant #rant #rant in tags #i feel lioe im pulling everyones teeth to do necessary shit #i have to babysit my siblings and my older bro is helping #but he hasnt told me how many pto days he has so we can plan whos taking days off to watch the kids #ive asked him several times over thus past week #im going to make sure he does today cause i need the pto to go through #and i have a sinking feeling that im going to be doing most of the work of watching my siblings #im teying to get a new bed #and since my old bed is owned by my grandma im teying to figure out where she wants it #but because she has 3 million projects in the works shes unsure when she can get to the bed #ive told her that she can just tell me where she wants it stored and ill take care of everything and she still wants to push it back #i cant handle anyone else whistling at work #and i want to bash my brains in cause it fucking mental touture cause of misophonia #i dont think im being unreasonable in my asks of other people right now but it feels like pulling teeth

[wanderinginksplot]

Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived. 

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet. 

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side. 

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety. 

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out. 

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten. 

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes. 

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply. 

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin. 

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily. 

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away. 

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply. 

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk. 

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction. 

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #echo #echo x you #echo x reader #kix #fives #illness #first kiss #star wars fanfiction #fic request

[evermorehaikyuu]

▬◊☆Memories

A/N: Seeing as someone requested part two of Konoha’s angst, which is right here, I have decided to do it and also, late birthday fic because why not? Let’s get started.

~

Y/N usually went by every Saturday to check up on Konoha. And on that one fateful day where she was told that he had woken up, she hadn’t expected for him to lose all of his memories. He only recalled his own name and the look that he had given her, that look. It wasn’t pitiful, it was merely curious as to why she was there and holding his hand. 

It made her mad.

Not at him, of course. None of it was his fault. It wasn’t his fault that he was stuck in a coma for three years, it wasn’t that he should’ve been careful. Y/N was the one that let him go out of rage and he ended up getting hit by a truck. Luckily he survived.

But now I can’t ever apologize, Y/N thought as she stuck her hands in her pockets, head hung as she walked along the sidewalk. She could apologize, but it’d be like begging forgiveness from a doorknob. He didn’t even know what was going on and that burden would be awful on him. 

It had been a month since he woke up and she hadn’t gone back. She couldn’t bear to face him again, not with those eyes. They used to be full of love and adoration for her, even when she was blinded with fury. And somehow she had the brilliant idea of letting him go. No joy came out of that, only sadness. That should’ve proved something.

Grabbing a coffee and a muffin from a random cafe that she had never been to, she decided to be brave and go back. The walk there was shorter than she had expected and the receptionist looked up at her and allowed her to walk to Konoha’s room. She knew that Konoha would be too weak to do anything, he had resorted to a newborn child. Maybe that was another reason why she had avoided him.

Knocking on the door, she saw his doctor talking quietly to him and Konoha nodding slowly. The doctor looked up at Y/N and said, “Ah, perfect timing, come on in. I have wonderful news.”

“Did he get his memories back?” Y/N said, hope clear in her voice.

The doctor shook his head. “No, but he’s out of his minimally conscious state, which is a massive improvement. When you saw him, he was conscious but seconds after you left, he had fallen asleep again. He’s been doing exercises and he appears to be fine, he’s getting his strength back. He hasn’t resorted to a mere child. However, there isn’t much we can do about his memories.”

Y/N walked over and sat down next to him, shamelessly staring at his eyes, the blanket covering him and the IV next to him. 

“Hey, you’re that girl right?” Konoha asked sweetly. “Why did you run off?”

Y/N swallowed and looked at the doctor for help. He replied, “I think it would be better if you talked to him. It could help him regain some memories back. Not all of them. Just enough to make him...understand.” With those words, he left, closing the door behind him.

Looking back at Konoha, she took a deep breath and started talking. “I don’t know how to say this subtly, but it’s my fault you’re in this position.”

“Oh?” Konoha tilted his head, his expression looking like that of a curious puppy. “And you’re not going to tell me your name?”

Her heart couldn’t help but race, that personality of his hadn’t changed. It felt like a different version of their first meeting and somehow Konoha still acted just as coquettish as he had when they started talking. She rolled her eyes playfully and said, “Y/N L/N.”

“Y/N….hmm, it’s a pretty name. It suits you.” He grinned at her and she sighed.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re in a coma, you’ll still have this personality.” Y/N lifted her hand as if to stroke his hair back yet hesitated. He was awake and she was a total stranger to him. It was better when he was asleep, he wouldn’t be able to tell if it was her. 

“You can do it. I don’t mind.” Konoha looked down at her hand and smiled a bit. “You used to do it all the time, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d remember that.” With his permission, she started brushing his hair back, running her fingers through the strands with a gentle smile on her face. He started blinking, his eyelids drooping until she said sternly, “Don’t fall asleep yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because...because I don’t know if you’ll wake up.” Y/N said, wincing at the words. She sounded pathetic to herself, as if hoping that Konoha would have enough energy to stay awake. He had just gotten out of a three year state of unconsciousness, maybe sleep would be a blessing to him. 

“I’ll wake up. I always do.” Konoha reassured her, shutting his eyes at the renewal of her stroking his hair. It brought comfort to him, this stranger that knew him but he didn’t know. The look in her eyes was enough to break him. Racked with guilt, desperation, maybe hope as well. He wished he knew her. Perhaps when he woke up she’d still be there. 

The feeling was strange. He had only known her for less than a day and already his stomach twisted from the sight of her. It wasn’t anything malicious, but something about her drew her to him. If only he had his memories back.

Y/N had fallen asleep right after Konoha, her head in his lap. It was an uncomfortable position, but somehow bringing solace to her. Staying by his side was all she needed, if he allowed her to be there. And luckily, he hadn’t shoved her away nor had he called the doctor to call security. The look in his eyes was the same one she had seen when they first met. All those years making platonic memories together before they realized they felt something more for the other.

~

“And that’s my foolproof plan of how to ask the girl out!” Konoha said proudly, crossing his arms and grinning at Y/N, who was currently sitting in a bean bag with chips in her hands.

Monotonously, she replied, “And somehow you haven’t covered the part where she will reject you.”

“Would it kill you to be on my side and not say anything snarky for one day?!” That was their normal routine, they always made fun of one another and they loved it. The girl Konoha was talking about was right in front of him and he was trying to see if she’d give anything up, any clue that this would work. Would she reject him? Nah. But would she?

“Yeah, it would, sunshine, now your brilliant plan sucks. You’re not getting her flowers and you’re not going to climb into her window to leave stuff there, that’s stalkerish, creepy and she’d see you as...what’s the word...you know the girl that was obsessed with--”

“Are you calling me a yandere?”

“Yep.” She grinned as she popped another chip in her mouth and offered some to him. He groaned and put his forehead on her shoulder. “What if she does say no?”

“Well, she’d be an idiot but that would mean you have more time to not worry about anything. So calm down, she’ll love you.”

~

What Y/N hadn’t known on that day was that it was her, she was the one he was crushing on . The feeling had been mutual and he had been the happiest he had ever been. Of course, up to this point. 

When Konoha woke up again, he could feel his little hunger coming back to him. He was only allowed a bit of food so as to not upset his stomach. But looking down carefully, he saw Y/N sleeping on his lap and the sight made him smile for the first time since he woke up. Carefully, he put his hand on her hair, running his hand through the tresses.

The movement made Y/N stir awake and look at him with the same look she had given him when he had woken up for the first time. Shamelessly, she asked, “Do you remember anything?”

“It’s not like we’re in a fairy tale, my dear Y/N.” Konoha didn’t even know how easy it was to talk to her, if only he did get the memories back.

Clicking on a button to ask for food, he looked at her. “I would share, but I’m hungry.”

Making her laugh, she placed her hand on his shoulder and nodded. “I’ll see you next week.”

“What about tomorrow?” He asked, obvious hope in his eyes. Had he imprinted on her that easily? Maybe his memories could be coming back slowly with every minute that she was there. She nodded, already planning to cancel anything that she would have the next day. His doctor was walking down the hallway and she asked, “Is it possible that--”

“Yes. It is entirely possible that happy triggers may assert his brain into a state where he recalls several bits of his past before the accident. Take you, for example. He may not remember you but a part of his brain does, thus simultaneously inserting back serotonin and pieces of what he does envision.”

With that answer, she decided that she’d go back as many times as she could.

~

A year of this had gone by. Within three months of his awakening, Konoha had been allowed to go home and Y/N took him into her house as she was his first contact in case of an emergency. He had been watched carefully and to be honest, Y/N had never felt more relieved.

Nine months later, he was able to walk around at a normal pace and actually was able to do a lot of things he couldn’t do six months previously. Y/N was always there for him, chiding herself if she ever thought of leaving him behind. 

“You don’t need to be with me all the time, you know?” Konoha said, kissing the top of her head. “I’m okay. I can walk normally now and you know, even if I don’t remember everything about us, I do remember how we went out.”

“Because I told you and you decided to forget that too!” Y/N replied.

He started laughing and shook his head. “No, I call it a selection of memories.”

Maybe it was a selection but as she put her head on his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her closer, she didn’t care. He chose her again. Even through everything he had gone through, he chose her again. Closing her eyes with a soft smile, she started drifting back to sleep as he stroked her hair, humming their song.

“I love you, “ he mumbled. “I always will.”

“I love you too.”

The promise of loving Y/N that he had made to himself had never once been broken for the rest of their lives.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #konoha x reader #konoha akinori x reader #konoha x y/n #konoha akinori x y/n #konoha x you #konoha akinori x you #konoha imagines #konoha akinori imagines #konoha fluff #konoha akinori fluff #i actually took my time writing this and put research into it #i got soFT with this one #like yes fluff for konoha after a whole ton of shit #anyways this is his birthday fic as well #dw its almost a week late but oh well

[bean-pole-art]

Ed’s Borderlands Fics Masterpost

well finally

here is the masterpost of all of my Borderlands fics posted. most of them are Rhysothy focused to various AUs. I’m gonna update it as I post more but here it is, along with some of my commentary

right from the start big big BIG shoutout to @spoks-illogical-art​, my partner in crime, my biggest inspo, without them honestly most of these fics wouldn’t exist, please check out their amazing art <3

(latest edit - 21/02/2021)

Atlas AU - our main timeline, follows events of Moxxi’s Heist. lots of different concepts and ideas but the core really is Tim moving to Promethea to get help from Rhys. gonna sort em here with posting date, check the ao3 series for the “timeline”

Hypothetically - 2240 words summary: Rhys talks a lot, but usually thinks about it too little.

coffee, cats & monographs - 2880 words summary: “Hey hey, easy. You don’t want to repeat the accident from last week, do you?” Rhys cooed towards the cat and picked her up, just as Timothy instructed him to. Hearing these words, Felicity meowed. “Oh, don’t say that. This is my office and I have the power here,” he answered, carrying her back to his personal space.

Or Timothy's cat pays a visit to Rhys' office in the morning. note: I am a stupid mofo and at this point Tim would also have Loader Bot fkjbfd just imagine hes not mentioned cause hes wandering off, typical LB

Have Faith - 1470 words summary: During the 7 year lockdown at the Handsome Jackpot, Timothy couldn't really have any hope for himself. But maybe on Promethea it could be different. note: sudden feelings while watching JoltzDude139′s stream

Warm Cheeks, Cold Hands - 1170 words summary: Rhys comes home early and wants to say hi to his husband. With no ulterior motive. None at all. note: first fic Ive ever posted where characters are married, actually. fuck it, Rhysothy Real, his name is Rhys Lawrence

the battle (and the aftermath) of the ages - 2970 words summary: In a situation like this everything was possible, they could pull any punches they could think of. Four beasts playing against each other, every single one of them thinking of striking the winning blow.

Or Promethea Squad plays UNO. And then watches a movie. note: I love Promethea Squad with my whole heart

okurimono (贈り物) - 4/4, 17170 words summary: “Not a bomb. Just a device with a message for Rhys. Trust me on that,” this time an emoji of both winking and showing off a tongue [;P] appeared on the surface of Zer0’s helmet. Ah. So they were definitely trying to mess him up. In a way. Unfortunately, he really didn’t have any other options. Almost with a defeat, Timothy took the ECHOrecorder right from their hands and looked around it again. Or Zer0 gives Timothy a peculiar mission. note: my first ever multichapter fic. took me legit abt 8 months to finish but I am absolutely satisfied with this. also the bonus ending. yes

(there is) something I see in you - 8690 words summary: How one Rhys Strongfork met one Timothy Lawrence and how they fell for each other. More or less. note: best to go into this one blind, I swear. dumbest fic Ive ever written and please take this as a recommendation

this world is gonna pull through - 14380 words summary: Timothy really hoped it wasn’t anything important. He had that tendency to forget things easily, even if he tried to fight it. But Rhys kept on smiling and went by his side. So it couldn’t have been that bad. Still dumbfounded, he felt Rhys leaving a kiss right on his cheek.“November 11th? 

That- That seriously doesn’t ring any bells?” Rhys continued, brushing his hands against his shoulders. Or how Timothy spent one of his birthdays. note: also a love letter for Tim but a nicer one I guess kdjfnb dont ask how old is he i have no gdamn idea man

Strawberry Sweet - 3560 words summary: Rhys surprises Timothy with a gift for their date night in.

Happy Mercenary Day, Mr. Lawrence - 4670 words summary: How Timothy spent his first Mercenary Day on Promethea. note: I swear this is the best writer night Ive ever had. Ive written this whole thing in one night on Christmas day, solely on the inspo of that song I linked

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - 4/4, 17080 words summary:  Afterwards, he went around with his usual duties. Getting a quick roundabout from his PA, checking several sectors himself and looking through the thousands of messages already sent to him via ECHOs. Rhys was ready to finally take on the day, yet when he made his way to the office, he saw the unusual envelope right by the edge of his desk. “For Rhys” was written on it. Straightforward enough. Or Rhys gets a letter from a secret admirer. note: another multichapter fic!! this one also took some time and well. its inspired by ABBA songs. cause only I would write a Rhysothy fic inspired by ABBA

Ratchet Effect - 7130 words summary: Knowing just how much overworked Rhys has been, Timothy wants to let them have a nice getaway in Lazy River Land. There's only one problem to overcome - ratch infestation. note: first fic of 2021!! Ive been playing a lot of bl3 suring the writing of it so it has a lot of stuff I had observed both on Promethea and on Jackpot

Reflections - 2250 words summary: Sometimes, Timothy needs a reminder.

Tales AU - second most important timeline. it’s Tales but Tim is a part of the group. sorted chronologically

A Story For Another Day - ongoing, for now -  2/25, 15280 words Tales AU main fic. it’s gonna be a big one

Connection Interrupted - 3240 words summary: With his driving shift finished, Timothy checks up on Rhys and Vaughn's plans.

Completely Hopeless - 1040 words summary: In which Fiona notices that Rhys behaves differently in front of a certain doppelganger.

infinity times infinity times infinity - 3460 words summary: Rhys and Timothy share some dreams and secrets underneath the stars. note: the beautiful combination of Sleeping At Last and Minecraft parodies. I promise it makes sense

reality can be whatever I want - 11420 words summary: “Hey, Tim?” Timothy didn’t even spare him a look, “Are we alone, or is he there with you?” Oh, this definitely won’t be pretty.

After the confession of Handsome Jack's AI in his head and his plan to infiltrate Helios, Rhys needs to set things right with Timothy. Somehow. note: thanosdancing.gif to Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” 80′s remix and a guest appearance from Ferocity but I cant legally say her name here

still here - 2820 words summary: It all had to go down, after Helios crashed. note: I have...a love/hate relationship with this one kjdfbfg I like it but it’s honestly an alternate ending and doesnt fit within our usual bad ending, so take it with a grain of salt. i ten jebany błąd językowy w summary, kiedy ja go poprawię

together at last - 5590 words summary: It all struck him down in an instant, in this one minute. They were all safe. And they were all alive. Nothing was threatening neither him, nor Timothy, nor Fiona. He could finally breathe out.

They all found each other again. note: I am multitasking most time of my life but I dont relate any other fic to multitasking more than this one. I was honestly doing 10 things at once while writing this dfkjbndf

David AU - this one is a sub AU to Tales AU and the plot is kind of complicated dfjkbfb please check the fic for further explanation

building in curved lines - 22490 words summary: “To be fair, you look terrible. You’re barely standing in one piece and none of your coffees will hold you together for that long,” Lilith paused, seemingly weighing the correct words in her head. “You haven’t really been holding on since… We rescued The Double.” Rhys sighed heavily. Why did she have to be so right about everything. Or how Rhys and Timothy adjust to the reality after the Handsome Jack AI. note: bday gift for Spok, EASILY one of my absolute faves and the longest fic Ive written thus far

outside of AUs - some concepts I play with that are honestly outside any of our concrete timelines/concepts + fics not focused on Rhysothy

Real - 770 words summary: Reconciling with your past is a little easier, when you have someone you love right in your arms. note: first blands fic I’ve ever written. the characterization isn’t really there yet but as a first shot at the game and my kind of “introduction”, I am still satisfied of it

(Un)Familiar Faces - 9620 words summary: Timothy pursed his lips and leaned over the wall a little. He’s had enough of this solitude of closed doppelganger cabinet. Today wasn’t the day for another self-loathing session. Today, he should go off on Helios and do something for himself.

Or Timothy spends the night at a Helios bar. But not as Handsome Jack. And not as Timothy Lawrence either. note: personal favorite of mine, tough love letter to Timothy Lawrence. I have so many fond memories of writing this, including getting drunk out of my mind just like Tim and Rhys here

basics of survival - 2010 words summary: Athena taught Timothy everything he needed to know about survival. Now, it was time to put these skills into use. note: wrote this right before rona outbreak on last day in my dorms. thats all

#borderlands #fic masterpost #fanfiction #fanfic #rhysothy #rhys strongfork #timothy lawrence #just tagging characters that I write the most #fiona the con artist #zer0 the assassin #lorelei the coffee commander #athena the gladiator #Ędi's writing

[manitamuerte]

Tarkin’s Folly - Ch. 2

Pairing: Armitage Hux x Enyo Tarkin (OC) Word Count: 2,001 Tags: Canon-Compliant until TROS, Awkward Romance, Emotionally Repressed Hux, Fixing Canon With A Hammer

Summary: Admiral Tarkin’s presence on the Steadfast is of no comfort to General Hux. The lofty weight of her family name and the reputation which proceeds her does not bode well for his future on High Command. [Read it on AO3] —

ADMIRAL TARKIN STOOD AT THE END OF THE LONG AND GLOSSY BLACK TABLE.

She quietly waited for the Supreme's Leader permission to speak, which he gave to her with a slightly bored wave of his hand. Hux could make out the slight eagerness he masked with the gesture, watching the way his shoulders relaxed as he sat in the place of honor. The General quickly turned his head so that Ren wouldn't catch him looking.

Admiral Tarkin's voice held a clear and grandiloquent quality begotten from her Eriaduian accent, which was a borrowed dialect of the Core-World's Basic – made sharp by Imperial Remnant influence. "Allegiant General Pryde and Supreme Leader Kylo Ren have asked me to prepare and present a simple evaluation of any of the high-ranking officers currently serving here on the Steadfast. I was allowed to pick anyone of my own choosing, and provide my own materials as I saw fit."

Hux felt his stomach drop. Tarkin had to know how Pryde and Ren felt about him, and she'd truly be foolish if she didn't leap on the opportunity to disparage him again in front of all the others. He knew he was the weakest link on the Council. This would be like a final nail in the coffin of his failed career, a springboard for which she could use the momentum to further her own. And if she truly was a Tarkin-- then she was no fool.

In the week she had been on board, Hux had not had a single chance to speak with the woman -- nor had much time to even consider her presence much besides on the first day of her arrival. Ren had him running off on unimportant missions, personally seeing to it that his day-to-day life was absolutely miserable even when he could not physically be there to see it.

Admiral Tarkin's grey-blue eyes pierced his skull as she turned her gaze to him for a brief moment, causing him to avert his own. Some at the table squirmed uncomfortably, either knowing the sequence of events about to happen and pitying Hux -- or more likely: Worried that her report would be about them.

She pulled a small holoprojector device from her pocket and activated it. An image of a grid and a flat rendition of D'Qar appeared and spread out over the table, and Hux immediately knew what sort of awfulness was about to transpire.

"If you could all draw your attention to the holoprojector, please. This is a representation of the failed engagement at D'Qar," She began, her voice settling in a calm and practiced lilt. "As I'm sure you all know, The Resistance was able to flee from this encounter despite the odds being heavily in First Order favor."

From the corner of his eye, Hux saw Ren lean forward in his chair with interest -- but felt the helmeted man's heavy gaze on his own countenance, watching him for any sort of reaction. He tried very hard not to give him the satisfaction, but a lump was forming in his throat that he had to swallow eventually.

"The active ships in the engagement are as follows:" As she spoke the names, the images appeared on the grid in formation. "One Mandator-IV Class C Siege Dreadnaught called the Fulminatrix, and Three Resurgent-Class Battlecruisers --plus, later, our scrambled Tie-Fighters. This was against the Resistance's One MC85 Star Cruiser, several MG-100 StarFortress SF-17's, several small squadrons of X and A-Wings. There were other Resistance ships present, but not strictly combat builds. To remind you, The Resistance was in the process of evacuating from their base of D'Qar and thus not in any sort of intelligent formation."

"Thankfully," She continued, "Their base planet-side was destroyed by the Fulminatrix's commander Captain Moden Canady. Our ships came upon the planet from hyperdrive, however you must note the formation that the ships are locked into."

The clear tactical mistake was on display for everyone to see. Hux's eyes averted from the grid, unable to take the wave of shame which washed over him. He felt Ren's eyes.

"The Resistance was able to drop a payload and destroy the Fulminatrix at the end of the engagement and escape due to many errors, including a delayed scrambling of our Tie-Fighters, as well as allowing an enemy ship behind our lines to take out all surface point-defense of the Dreadnaught. "

Hux had known the Resistance was failing, that this evacuation had been a last-ditch effort to survive. If he had simply destroyed them without the fanfare he was hoping to use for propaganda -- this would have been their final stand. His hubris haunted him -- He could have been in Pryde's place, promoted. He could have been hailed and applauded as the man who had finally stamped out the Resistance. But now he was forced to sit through a demonstration about how terrible of a commander he had once been -- a mistake, a moment of weakness -- and it's forevermore a mark against his otherwise impeccable file. Well, this and the fall of Starkiller base.

The holovid continued forward, the ships changing position. "Furthermore, I believe it was pure negligence and miscommunication which lead to the death of our personnel and the loss of the Fulminatrix. The battle formation as depicted is simply inefficient. To the point, the very sight of it makes one wonder if the commander of the engagement -- General Hux -- was purposefully sabotaging."

Hux jolted in his chair. How dare she accuse him of such a treasonous act? It was fine that she criticize him, but that was a measure too far. He felt his face grow hot in anger. His eyes locked with hers for a brief moment. He was surprised to find her expression was devoid of emotion.

"I have suggestions for how the engagement should have been handled." She clicks the holoprojector, playing a few more seconds of the holovid before pausing. The ships shift on the grid once more. "As you can see, this formation makes more sense. The battlecruisers would take escort position as I believe was intended, and thus would have the ability to create a defensive line for our Dreadnaught." The holovid illustrates this perfectly, and continues to animate as she speaks. "Furthermore, the Tie-Fighters should have been scrambled immediately, to take out the flotilla before it drew near. As an aside, I would have had the Dreadnaught prioritize the base just before or immediately after targeting the MC85 Star Cruiser -- if they had nowhere to go, the Resistance would have to take a moment to regroup and think of a new plan. This hesitation would have been our moment to attack. We direct our Tie-Fighters to clean up the survivors, and the Resistance would have been crushed."

The animation shows the rest of the ships being destroyed, then finishes. The blue glow of the projection ceases, and she places the holoprojector back into her pocket.

Ren is the first to speak, voice clipped by the vocoder of his helmet. "I applaud your...Subdued aggressiveness, Admiral Tarkin. To accuse General Hux of treason is not the angle I expected, but amusing. Furthermore, although it was not your task to come up with them -- your suggestions are...Noted."

Hux felt like a stone was lodged in his throat.

Tarkin’s face does not pale as a lesser person's might, though perhaps it was because she read Ren's comment as the compliment it was while discarding it's back-handedness. She stares right into the visor of Ren's mask. "I only provided the facts as I saw them, Supreme Leader. I expect my charges to go above and beyond in their tasks, and I uphold myself to my own standards."

"A commendable trait of anyone in a leadership position, indeed." Ren mutters, leaning ever forward. Hux hated the way he said it, in that voice he used when he pantomimed responsible authority. "However, it would do you well to be careful that your aspirations do not exceed you, Admiral."

Her mouth twitches downward, the confident mask cracking ever so slightly. This seems to be the result Ren wanted, because he leans back in his chair, looking smug and satisfied even with the helmet on his head. "Of course, Supreme Leader --” She answers, “Wise council indeed."

Ren defers to Pryde, nearly cutting off the end of Tarkin's sentence. "And what do you think, Allegiant General?"

Pryde seems to perk up considerably, his posture tense. "I believe her presentation to have been satisfactory, Supreme Leader."

Ren's voice is tight. "But what do you think, Allegiant General?" He presses. Pryde's face conceals his panic well.

"...Admiral Tarkin's suggestions are spot-on, and if I remember correctly, Captain Canady had also expressed displeasure with General Hux's methods before his untimely death. The engagement was a failure, through and through -- our victory at D'Qar quite phyrric for both involved--"

"Make no mistake, Allegiant General. The miscommunication was on Captain Canady's part." Tarkin interrupted, her voice sharp and eyes laser focused on her target. It was suddenly clear to Hux that she did not like Pryde in the least, which was of some – little – comfort. "The comms history shows General Hux attempted to have the Captain launch the Tie-Fighter squadrons upon exiting hyperspace. The problem was his lack of further correction. Captain Canady seemed to have misunderstood the order as preparation of launch only -- though I couldn't say why. I believe this was likely due to his personal feelings about the General, as I understand it. It is a disgrace." She spat the final word like it was poison. "I suspect we ask more of our officers, do we not? We shouldn't let personal grievances or opinions cost us valuable tech and personnel in the midst of engagements."

Hux was felt a cold sweat begin to break upon his brow. His embarrassing past was no secret, but he hated that she knew. Everyone knew. Canady, Pryde -- all the older ex-Imperial officers. Friends of his father. They watched him grow up, and even though he was nearing his 35th year many of them still saw him as a child and a mere extension of his father. A failed extension, even.

Pryde's face immediately flushed with anger, both from being talked down to by a lower officer and from understanding her underlying meaning. He did not chastise her with the Supreme Leader present, realizing Ren's lack of protest meant her comments were allowed. "...Of course, Admiral."

From his peripherals, Hux watched the Supreme Leader's helmet slowly turn to his side of the table. The tightness of Ren's voice was gone, instead replaced with barely filtered amusement. "General Hux, what do you have to say for yourself? Admiral Tarkin has suggested you appear so incompetent that it looks like purposeful sabotage."

The General grit his teeth, gnashing them in agony. Ren was enjoying this way too much -- and he wondered if he really set this all up just for the express purpose of his own amusement. It certainly wouldn't be out of character, that's for sure.

When Hux spoke, his voice remained level but wavered at the edges with hesitation."I am, of course, appalled at the accusations of treason suggested by Admiral Tarkin -- however, I must agree that the engagement at D'Qar was poorly executed."

Pryde snorted. "Of course you do, Hux. It's plain as anyone can see." Hux noticed Ren stiffen at Pryde's sudden outburst, curiously turning to face the Allegiant General but saying nothing.

"...Have you anything further to add, General Hux?" Was what Ren did say, after a moment of tense silence.

"...No, Supreme Leader."

"And you, Admiral Tarkin?" Ren asked, his helmet tilting slightly to suggest his gaze shifting.

"No, Supreme Leader." She echoed, sounding the smallest bit pleased with herself. Hux stole a moment to glance at her face and was not surprised to find a smug expression on it. He averted his eyes to the table like a kicked dog.

"...Very Well. You are all dismissed."

#general hux #armitage hux #general hux x oc #armitage hux x oc #my writing #tarkin's folly #fanfic #also on ao3

[lenjaminmacbuttons]

Hope you’re doing okay, I know there’s been a lot going on the past couple weeks. 🌈🌈💛💛

FOOF YOU CAN SAY THAT AGAIN

thank you for the good vibes anon, i love you and it means a lot to me. however unfortunately now im gonna use this to vent dump exactly how much has been going on the past couple weeks off the top of my head. this is actually pretty far from Everything thats happen but im so tired and dont want to think about any of it anymore

my grandma passed away last week. we were prepared for it and we know she’s at peace in a better place et cetera et cetera, her body was all full of restraints & impediments that she doesnt have to deal with anymore and the next time she’s in a body it’ll be all New And Improved and awesome. i missed so much work in anticipation of this that now i can’t get work off on the day of the funeral, so i can still go to it but i’ll have to go immediately to work right from it and have to pretend everythings fine and dandy and nothings going on.

everyone at work Does know there’s something going on however and the two coworkers i have who are actually like i consider them friends mostly they’re all like Hey Im Here For You Talk About Your Feelings Honestly with me and i. dont. want. to talk about my feelings at work. thats not what work is for and i dont like talking about my feelings anyway and i dont want them to ask anymore

the changes to the handbook and the honor code have completely sunk my heart. i had so much hope up until those hideous ridiculous unfathomably transphobic things they wrote and now i don’t feel like i can trust or have hope in ANYTHING the institution does anymore. ive been up all night going back and forth over whether i want to go to church today. or ever again. it’s not bringing me joy. it’s making me feel anxious and depressed and frustrated and alone. i keep seeing people just on the street or on facebook who are so happy and content with the church and whatever it does and i just…i get struck every single time with this thought of “they don’t care about me. they don’t care about any of these problems. they’re not affected personally by it and so they don’t care.”

and then that makes me feel like such a hypocrite because!!! ive been them too for so long!! what makes this moment so different!!!!! why is this the straw that breaks the camel’s back when the camel should have thrown off the whole burden and run to join its friends at the first strike of the owner’s whip!!!!!!

plus it’s making me feel gross about my mormon memes blogs. idk if i can keep running those anymore.

im failing this semester anyway and i keep getting emails about it. i was planning to take a break from school After this semester but ive missed so much class that i just really can’t go back to any of them so i guess im just dropping out right now. as much as i’d love to participate in all the incredible amazing protests going on right now i really really cant be on campus at all without feeling literally physically ill. and my Hope was to do really well this last semester and then submit mission papers and that way i’d know exactly what next to do with my life until i decide what After, and id be able to Get Out somewhere and travel someplace while still feeling like my life has some semblance of structure and direction. however! HOWEVER!!!!!!!!

i’ve been feeling so, so horrible and so worn down and i dont even know where or what my testimony is anymore. but that’s probably a lot lower on the list of Why I Can’t Serve A Mission, because a. i still don’t trust my Local Bishop enough to talk to him about things The Handbook says to b. i am finding it harder and harder and harder to be perceived as female. i never really have dysphoria about my body or my presentation or anything but like, when people say Sister and Ma’am and Miss and Daughter and Hey Pretty Lady It’s Me Your Relief Society President it’s like…that’s not me. that feels gross. and i wear suits and ties to church, have done so for a while and never get any flak for it, and im gradually working up the nerve to maybe start introducing myself as lev or levi instead of lillie buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut. socially transitioning apparently is not allowed.

not to mention my temple recommend expired ages ago anyway. anxiety about bishops prevented me from ever going in for an interview to renew it. i haven’t visited the temple once since before graduating high school. but every time i see it or think about it i long for it so badly and it hurts so much.

and also like, i get that same kinda horrible regretful longing feeling whenever i hear violin music? because i played violin for a few years and then stopped but i still have the instrument because it was given to me by my grandmother. who played it herself until sickness wouldn’t let her anymore and she entrusted it to me and i Stopped Playing but then i hoped to pick it up enough to at least learn how to play her favorite song and aw wouldn’t that be so nice to play that for her on her violin except i never actually got around to printing out the sheet music or practicing At All. and now she’s gone.

and one of the last things she said to me was that she would love to hear my book since her eyesight was too gone to read it so i said i’d record it as soon as i got the right software/hardware to do that and then i never did that either. also i promised alla yalls that book would be Published Published coming up on four months ago now and i still haven’t done that

i took a pair of safety scissors to my forearms as mentioned in a previous post and surprise surprise, the lines have not healed still, it’s getting warmer outside and thus harder to wear long sleeves, and guess what! a while ago on a separate occasion i complained that i kinda wished my self harm scars looked more like the classic cutter lines and Now They Do!! And I Hate It!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a couple nights ago my little sister saw them and so i told her i got attacked by a spider-pawed bear and fortunately my brother Understands and backed me up like “dang what do they teach in schools these days i cant believe youve never heard of the spider-pawed bears that live in the mountains and are totally normal and real”

and steven universe is ending. that’s a thing.

and like….okay. not everything in my emotions right now is bad. some of it is just complicated. one coworker friend i have recently confessed that she’s had a crush on me for several months now. fortunately when she said this i was able to be honest and say that im not super eager for a relationship right now, im not ready in the slightest to settle down or anything, im still hung up on my high school crush and also dealing with issues from my last relationship, and she replied that’s all perfectly fine and she doesn’t have any expectations and she’s great being friends and we can take things at whatever pace is good

except i also now have a date with said high school crush loosely planned for tomorrow and i told this coworker friend about it and she admitted it’s making her a little jealous and then she said jealous is an ugly word and amended it to Insecure and i feel bad about that

but i also like. am really excited for this date. like it’s not really a for sure romantic capital-d Date and that’s fine, but i haven’t seen this friend irl for so long and ive been missing her so much over this past little while that we’ve been internet chatting and that ive been i guess officially falling back in love with her but i also like, i dont know what her deal is romantically right now i don’t want to presume anything but i really really really am itching to see her

work is stressful. it’s only gonna get more so as weather gets warmer. but we’re getting two new managers with loads of experience and glowing reviews next week. i have hope that they’ll makes things a little lighter.

and there’s also. good things. peridot took off her visor for the first time ever in canon and i saved like 50 different gifs of it to my computer cus it rocked my world. sonic has she-ra toys for the kids meals and i managed to snag a tiny inflatable version of the sword. i’m making cosplays of the tres horny boys from the adventure zone and they’re all very exciting and making things makes me very very happy. i’m finding joy in all the fanfictions i’m writing right now and in talking about dungeons & dragons with my brothers and friends. ducknerva is a very beautiful Good Ending version of marahope which makes me happy and taako is a super effective projection outlet. i bought cupcakes today and they were delicious. and when i think about those good things, when i think about any good thing no matter how small, everything else disappears.

whatever happens happens i guess.

she who lives will see.

#talkyllama #hey if anyone needs tags on posts like these please please let me know asap #i always forget that actual people see the things i post #i dont usually trigger tag cus i dont usually think i need to but if i do i will

[fyrapartnersearch]

Partner search!

Hello all! I’m looking for a skilled, experienced 1x1 partner or two for a Discord roleplay. I have a few particular plots, though please feel free to come with your own ideas. Please read to the end as there is a password I won't answer messages without.

•General/Writing Style•

I usually prefer sticking at around 4 paragraphs and up, but quality over quantity for the most part. If you usually write 3 paragraphs or less, it'll be hard for me to stay interested, however. I would prefer you write in 3rd person, past tense. Please have decent grammar and spelling, varied vocabulary and sentence structure, as well as decent syntax. Please provide me something of substance to respond to in your responses. Please also be somewhat experienced.

•Age•

18+ only, but 21+ preferred (I'm 23)

•Timezone•

Mine is EST. I do not mind what timezone you're in.

•Response Frequency•

I'd prefer if you could respond at least once a week. I'm a pretty busy student can't definitely commit to much more than that, so I won't ask that of you. Please try to communicate when you will be gone or significantly less active for several weeks or more. I will try to do the same.I'm a bit less lenient with this when we're still doing introductions, so if we've barely said hello but a few days pass and I hear nothing, I'll assume you're no longer interested or never were in the first place and close our discussion. You are free to assume the same of me.

•Genre•

I'm a sucker for Romantic Slice-of-life with a healthy dose of drama and angst, but I do like to weave other genres in there too such as Supernatural, Mystery, Action, and Adventure. I'm really open to most things if the plot interests me.

•Gender and Romantic Preference•

I strongly prefer playing a female main outside of MxM. Beyond that, I am open to MxF, FxF, and MxM . Currently, I'm mostly in the mood for an MxF or possibly F//. My apologies, but please note I do not play male in MxF unless we have roleplayed other pairings together before and have highly compatible writing styles. I rarely double up.I do not engage in dichotomy personality dynamics(ie- dom/sub, ABO, top/bottom) and like pairings to be close to even as possible in contributions to the relationship. If a scene gets intimate, I'd prefer we fade to black.

•Plots/Creativity•

The plots I’m looking to do atm are listed below. Despite this, you're more than welcome to share plots of your own. I'd prefer it if you are open to brainstorming plot points and bouncing ideas off each other too- let's keep this interesting for both of us so it stays alive.

•OCs•

I would prefer not to roleplay with OCs that are excessively shy, Mary-Sues, or OP. Additionally, please ensure your own OC does not monopolize the plot with their own issues and background. Let's share the spotlight.I tend to play multiple characters and would prefer if you did too.Please do not control my main OC or any named side characters I introduce. It can really mess with my plans with them if you suddenly auto-kill out of nowhere or something... If necessary, I may permit you to control a side character of mine, but please run it by me first. Communication is key.

•Platform•

Discord is strongly preferred. I can potentially be convinced to use kik, tumblr, or line.

•Fandoms•

I am willing to roleplay within the universe of several fandoms, but please note I do not roleplay as canon characters and would prefer not to roleplay with canon characters either. Please recall that I am more than happy to do original plots too if you aren't into any of these.-Corpse Party**-Black Mirror-Death Note-Avatar The Last Airbender*-Downton Abbey-Call The Midwife*-Dragon Quest(IV-IX)***-Miraculous Ladybug****(I'd love to delve into the more subtle, darker elements like the consequences of a broken miraculous and time travel)-Fruits Basket**-Soul Eater*-The Hunger Games-Harry Potter(The number of * indicates craving)

•Original Plots•

(Muse I would like to play is bolded. If neither are bolded, I can do either. All of these are open to brainstorming and tweaking!)

Muse A was born into a society where ‘falling in love’ is not a thing. Sure, it’s written in about fairy tales and even history texts, but most Readers laugh it off as a silly, archaic concept. All couples are formed by reading Cerebral wavelengths, stats that are unique to every individual. Every person has a single match and are paired with that person permanently when they come of age. No trades, no take-backs. Muse B, though born into the regular world, doesn’t believe in love either. Perhaps it was the plight of their parents, or that one nasty breakup. Perhaps it was the sight of all the couples around who’d be lovey-dovey one week, but strangers the next. Whatever it is, they don’t buy it. That suits Muse A just fine- their Cerebral wavelengths not only don’t match, they bang together in a cacophony. Why is it then that these two begin experiencing an undeniable pull to each other?

One night, Muse A is taking their usual jog through the park when they trip right over Muse B tying their shoe. Cliche start is cliche, I know, but stay with me here. After some initial awkwardness, the two hit it off quite well. Flash forward a week or so and the pair are starting school in the same class, Muse A as one of the typical debutants, and Muse B a lucky upstart on a basketball scholarship. Muse B had high hopes for where things’ll go…only to find out Muse A has a boyfriend, who happens to be Muse B’s nemesis on the courts. Whoops. But something’s really off with the couple. As in the boy is downright awful, and it isn’t just the rivalry talking. Yet Muse A refuses to leave him…why is that?

(This is an older one of mine, but I’ve recently kinda been in the mood to start it up again.) Marianoh’s Culinary Institute is the most renowned school for culinary arts in the country. Any who truly wish to be a master chef would be foolish not to attend. Unless they don’t have the means- the tuition is insanely high. Muse A is part of the lucky few of humble beginnings that has been selected to attend via scholarship. They couldn’t be more excited. Muse B, on the other hand, comes from a family of celebrity chefs. Their spot at Marianoh’s was confirmed before birth. Yet, somehow, they don’t share Muse A’s joy. Far from it, actually. What happens when the two are partnered up for the year?

(A brand new one definitely open to suggestions) St. Cornelius’ Academy(or University) is an academic institution reserved only for those of royal or noble background as well as their future servants, attendants, and body guards. Students of the academy hail from kingdoms where individuals are born gifted with control over the 8 elements- light, wind, flame, flora, lightening(tech), water, earth, and darkness. Students are divided based on status into ‘Golds,’ ‘Greys,’ and ‘ The ‘Gold’ category includes all royalty and nobility aside from viscounts and barons of low birth. The ‘Gray’ category includes future ladies and men in waiting, other servants, attendants, and body guards. Students are instructed in all areas in order to best prepare them for their future roles from political science to etiquette to combat. Given the wealth of a portion of the student body, the campus is a vivacious display of luxury, featuring lavish gardens, seemingly endless grounds, state-of-the-art learning facilities, and even an expansive kitchen headed by a world renowned 31 star chef. Currently, I have three potential pairings in mind for this set-up.

-Muse A is a new lady in waiting assigned to a spoilt, catty Duchess of Aquaria(Water Kingdom). Catering to the every whim of the young princess-to-be is exhausting, but her goal of reaching far greater heights than her questionable background merits keeps her going. What faster way to do that than catching the eye of Muse B, the princess’ bethrothed and crown Prince of Aquaria using abilities bequeathed to her by her merpeople ancestry? The lines between acting and reality are prone to blurring, however and actual feelings soon begin to muddle her plans. Muse B isn’t as unaware as he first seems either..

-Muse A is the somewhat naive prince of Angion(Flora), unsure of his future. He’s distant from his fiancée, Muse B a cold, proud Marchioness of the same kingdom, and his closest confident is one of his newest body guards, Muse C. Little does he know, that Muse C has quite the secret- she’s truly a girl whose taken on her brothers identity to serve. What will happen when all comes into the open?

5. Muse A has always been at the top of their class since early elementary and thrived on it. They come from a family of high achievers where failure is neither seen nor accepted. Proud and arrogant over their achievements, their grades make them, them. All that changed when Muse B showed up, smashing the entrance exams with marks unheard of. Of course Muse A wouldn’t take that lying down, thus, the classic rivalry begins. What happens when the two find they have more in common than they thought? Life on Muse B’s side is not all it seems as well.

Contact Instructions: Please message me here on tumblr  (https://lisanimelis.tumblr.com/) with your favorite color and a writing sample. If all goes well there, we'll move to discord. 

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #messenger #submission

[theplumsoldier]

HIS GREATEST JOY

Request: Anonymous said: Would it be ok to request a Yon-Rogg x Reader? Maybe where they find out their expecting a baby or him proposing? Which ever you’d prefer. Have a wonderful day!

A/N: i swear i did my best ive never been good at the fluff and all

Pairing: yon-rogg x reader

Word count: 1418

Warning: mentions of a sexual relationship.

It had taken you several mornings to awake with nausea and growing concern as well as a visit to the medical practitioner to accept the fact you indeed were with child. First thing you did subsequent to hearing the shocking - and to a degree, even repugnant - news, was to flee the room and lock yourself in a bathroom down the hall to vomit. The mere thought had for weeks disturbed your mind, practically enabling you to accomplish any work and now your nightmare had proved to be a reality.

You figured it was not the end of the world, though it took you time to accept. You never had disliked the thought of a child hence not daring think of having it removed while the possibility was there, however, in spite of your recent sexual activity it was so unexpected. In prior relationships, you never had granted it thought to be careful and now, at a time where you had begun to suspect you might be incapable of bearing, you were bestowed with this news. Supposing the father would be one you could wish no more of, you thought all you could be was thankful.

Albeit, you remained nervous when it came to spilling the events. After all, you never had discussed having a child thus you were unaware when it came to his stance on the such. What if he did not want to have a family with you?

The cascading thought kept prying and envisioning every possible outcome of telling Yon-Rogg. Even as he stepped foot into your shared home, you felt the lump in your throat grow and coil in your stomach tighten.

A glorious smile planted itself on his lips and altered his features all for the better. Even the gold in his eyes lit up and the sight of you, although when he caught sight of your anxious expression it quickly waned.

You stood from your seat and prepared words in your apprehensive mind. Just like that, the whole charade you had prepared vanished, all going back to flood your clouded mind. You felt nauseous.

“Is something wrong, dear?” asked Yon-Rogg bewildered and rushed to stand by you.

Supporting yourself on him, he sat you down and allowed you to concentrate on your breathing. This should not make you this nervous; moreover, Yon-Rogg never had it in his intent to hurt you in any way and this was a matter on another topic and unknown territory, but that gave you no reason to think otherwise.

“I want to see the medic today,” said you with a pause, considering your next words but none followed, too focused on Yon-Rogg’s reaction.

“Well, what with?” He forced a smile along with the nervous chuckle as he scooched closer to you, holding your hand in his as he wished it was nothing too serious, nothing incurable should that be the way you were headed down. Physical contact was not something he was very fond of, in other situation than those of sexual, nonetheless, he knew you like the backside of his hand and could tell when something bothered you. This seemed a situation where he might want to tread with care.

“I haven’t felt very good lately and with you constantly away I thought perhaps it was stress or something of the likeness, seeing as you–well I worry for you and I figured that might be it and I just kind of brushed it off, you know, but then it continued and I would wake up in the night and–”

Yon-Rogg discontinued your rambling and interrupted you, asking what the matter was.

“Well, I’m pregnant.”

Then silence fell, a nerve-racking one and after moments of the intensity and loud mind, you were certain you would burst. Into tears probably, it was all too much to process.

“I’m going to be a dad?” It was more of a question than a statement.

“Yes,” breathed you out in verification, awaiting a response. There had to be more on his heart.

Instead, he leaned back, and though it should have felt otherwise, it was as if a burden heaved off of his shoulders, relieving him of what brood had beset him these past weeks. Doubtlessly, he had observed these changes in your behavior and worried about your health. Surely he was a busy man and prone to earn the title of a workaholic, but he was in a relationship and committed to that, too; it was no question he had noticed something unfamiliar.

“Please say something,” begged you, pulling at his hand, searching for his eyes.

“I don’t know what to say,” responded he truthfully and found himself inhaling deeply. He then noticed your abnormal breathing and shook all out of his head. He hushed and assured you, “easy, love. This does not necessarily have to be a bad thing.”

“It doesn't?” Looking back up into his eyes, your own grew, expanding the display of the emotions layered orbs he was so in love with. “It doesn’t, right?”

“No,” chuckled he and swallowed the lump in his throat before he reached up to remove your tears. “This means we can have a family of our own. I suppose we should have only seen it coming as we never were very careful.”

You nodded, certain positive aspects of the case were becoming visible. It concerned you, should you raise a child with a father away half the time but on the other hand, you knew Yon-Rogg, if in his own way, would be as perfect as a father can be. The very thought of having a family with this man made your heart flutter.

A thought popped into his mind, the glimpse visible in his eyes as they sparkled up.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” rushed he before standing on his feet and disappearing into your bedroom. Chuckling at his sudden change, you dried your eyes, a fragile smile on your lips as you asked him what he was up to.

Reappearing in the doorway, his frame stood tall and a smile took ownership of his face, putting a certain glow to his weary look.

“What?” chuckled you and stood back up, only for Yon-Rogg to stride toward you and push you back down. With a frown, you looked up to him, but he then leveled with you, taking you by surprise when pulling out a small box. “Yon–”

“Y/N, I want you to know–”

“Yon-Rogg,” you cut him off, shaking your head in disbelief as your hands covered your gasp.

“No listen, let me say this to you. Even if it may not always seem like it, I have never thought of you as anything but my top-priority. I know I upset you at times and I know that it may not always seem like I care, but I do–I do and more than anything. I’m not particularly good when it comes to talking about delicate matters and I’m aware that vex you, but I–I'm trying and I will do whatever it takes to keep you in my life in the end, there is no greater joy than being with you,” said Yon-Rogg, revealing the breathtaking golden stone. The formidable nuance making it seem as if it contained a galaxy and catching the effects of the light, it sparkled much like his own golden orbs. “So I’m asking you this, humble as a man can be, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

It took you no time to respond; there was nothing to consider. Throwing your arms around him you put your lips on his in a rough yet passionate kiss, and in no time you were both sat on the floor. You could feel him smile against you and you had never in your life felt as many emotions flow through you, sending shivers and lovestruck feels throughout your body.

Yon-Rogg put an end to the kiss and distanced you by the shortest, allowing enough space to bring the ring back into your vision. “Can I put this on your finger–”

he barely got to finish his proposal before you responded, “yes!” Repeating the committing word about a hundred times, he slid the stunning ring over your finger and it wrapped perfectly around you. Once more, you tucked him in, holding his face in your hands as you shared a kiss of fervor and each feel reflecting those of love. You could not wait to have a family with this man.

#yon-rogg #yon rogg #yon rogg gifs #yon rogg gif #yon-rogg gifs #yon-rogg imagine #yon rogg imagine #theplumsoldier #jude law #jude law gifs #jude law gif #jude law smut #jude law imagine

[201kl5-dead]

44+ REDDIE PLEASE YOU ANGST QUEEN!

Prompt 44: One of them being diagnosed with a terminal illness AU, Reddie

Read it on AO3

this is a lot less detailed and a lot worse than i wanted but i hope you at least dont hate it!

The although quiet but consistent beeping of machines was starting to drive Richie insane after the first five minutes, so it was fair to guess that his situation hadn’t gotten much easier after three bloody hours spent in the waiting room of the unfamiliar and cold hospital. The raven-haired young adult had his head in his hands, his messy curls being tugged into a more and more disastrous style as time passed. Maybe this whole day was cursed. They had been on their way to the mall, having planned on spending a few hours in there and had agreed to pick separate stores that both would have their time to go through and buy an outfit for the other before they met up again at a pre-planned place. It had been supposed to be fun, something to get them out of their comfort zone and to just have fun while your brand new fiancé got you a surprise outfit to wear. After that they would’ve continued on to the small and old cafe that they both loved, it was worn out and hidden from most curious eyes, but still perfect in just the right ways. They would’ve grabbed milkshakes and then gone to the movies, and just overall had the perfect day, right in time to celebrate the earlier week. The week where Richie finally got that job in the radio station that he had been wanting for years. The week where Eddie passed all his tests with flying colours, thus getting him in the best med school in the area. And most importantly, the week when despite them being young and in some would call ‘reckless’ love, they knew that all they really wanted from life was to spend it together. They would be able to take on anything, just as long as they had each other, just like always. Richie and Eddie. Eddie and Richie. Eddie Spaghetti and the Trashmouth. The two best friends who had always bickered like an old married couple but who fit together like two long-lost puzzle pieces, always managing to balance each other out and were always there for the other. It had been the week when Richie had finally, according to his own words, grown the balls to propose to Eddie. Maybe it had been awkward, and maybe Richie left the food that was supposed to be a grand and romantic dinner in the oven for a few minutes too long and then ended up ordering fast food in his panic, and maybe they both cried when Richie finally with shaking hands and voice got on one knee, almost falling over in his nervousness, and asked the big question while helplessly stumbling over his words. Maybe, it hadn’t gone as he had planned. Maybe, he had forgotten what he was supposed to say and just ended up stuttering something barely understandable in a small voice. But despite all of that, Eddie had said yes. Of course he did. That was something he always knew he would do, and he couldn’t have been happier. Even the weird morning headaches, the sudden waves of nausea and dizziness accompanied with him almost passing out a little too often, had left him alone that day. And it was perfect, oh it had been absolutely perfect. Maybe it had been too perfect, even. And now they were here. Or at least Richie was, Eddie had been rushed off hours ago, and Richie hadn’t seen his fiancé since. Eddie had been driving Richie’s old car that he had helped fix up a few years back, and they had both been singing off-tune with the radio blasting on high volume, and everything seemed perfect. At least until Eddie’s eyes had started to droop without a warning, and Richie had barely had any time to yank on the wheel to direct them to the side of the road, alerted by the small whimper of his name that had left the brunette’s lips before he had lost consciousness. Their car had crashed against a tree but with low enough speed that they both made it out with only a few scratches, and a mild concussion in Richie’s case, seeing as he had tried to both support Eddie and shield him from the impact. An ambulance had been called quickly by someone that had seen their accident and seeing as Eddie stayed unconscious even after five minutes, no matter how many times Richie tried to shake him awake. They had both been rushed to the nearest hospital, with Richie explaining what all had been going on for the past couple of months, telling how Eddie had started to get nauseous and dizzy often, but even after several different tests and visits to some very sought after doctors, nothing seemed to be wrong with him. And that’s how they got here, with Richie pacing around the waiting room before giving up and having sat down on one of the couches, head in hands as he still had no idea what was going on, or if Eddie was okay. And it was slowly starting to drive him absolutely fucking insane. — After almost three hours of agony of not knowing what was happening and not being able to do anything, a nurse finally approached him in the now otherwise empty waiting room. Richie practically shot up to his feet, almost falling over in the process. The nurse gave him a small and sympathetic smile and motioned him to come with. “Mr Kaspbrak is stable and awake currently, and asked to see you-” She didn’t even have an opportunity to finish her sentence before Richie was already walking ahead of him, clearly looking jittery. “What’s going on? Is he okay? Why did this take such a damn long time? Is everything-” “Mr Tozier, please try to calm down. We mostly just ran some tests and had to wait for the results to come in as we took care of him. He wanted to tell you the results himself, so please, feel free to go see him” the nurse stopped in front of one of the numerous doors decorating the hallway, and looked at Richie with a sad smile that set him even more on edge immediately. “Do try to let him rest, even if it’s hard. He’s deserved it.” He almost didn’t even hear the nurses departing words, having already rushed in the room, eyes searching around frantically. In a few seconds he had located Eddie almost buried under the disturbingly straightened hospital sheets, with an IV attached to his hand and a pile of papers on the metallic tray next to his bed. He reached the bed in a few long strides, immediately pulling up a chair next to the bed and sitting down before grabbing his fiancé’s hand and studying his face, trying to find any signs of the familiar symptoms of anxiety and panic the brunette tended to get around hospitals. Instead what he found would have probably been calming or reassuring to some, but the gentle and slightly worried look in Eddie’s eyes just scared Richie even more. Although that fear was nothing compared to the wave of nausea that washed over him with the words that rang in his ears, making everything else around him blur out. “So… They did all the tests that they could think of based on what you told them while they were checking up on me. And, well, there’s no easy way to say this, Rich. They- they just told me that one test showed something unpleasant, and they confirmed it with more scans. Richie, I have cancer. It’s-” Eddie swallowed softly, squeezing Richie’s hand as the other had gone completely white, and seemed to almost be shaking as he could feel his own eyes starting to well up too. “It’s in my brain, but in a spot that they can’t operate on it without permanently turning me into a vegetable. And since they can’t cut it out, well, it’s- It’s terminal. They don’t know how long it’ll take for it to kill me, but they think it won’t be too long. The closest guess the doctor was able to give is less than a year.” Eddie whispered out the end of the sentence, feeling like his heart was going to break as he saw the silent tears that started to fall down Richie’s cheeks, eventually falling on the bed and their joined hands. And without a word the taller male suddenly leaned down, enveloping the other in what was probably the tightest hug he could muster, as he tried to keep his crying silent. He had to be strong for Eddie, he just had to. It seemed like an eternity had passed before Richie finally lifted his head, arms still wrapped around Eddie’s small frame with no intention of letting go as he looked at his fiancé with teary eyes but a weak smile on his face, his voice barely above a hushed breath “I’m going to make sure that this is going to be the best goddamn year anyone has ever had.” The brunette smiled softly as his heart warmed up, and if he really was destined to die inside a year, he had absolutely no regrets about who he was going to spend every passing day of that year with. He sniffled softly and tilted his chin up, trying to look down on Richie but evidently failing. “You know, this means that you owe me some royal treatment, Tozier.” Richie let out a small and wet laugh, hesitantly untangling one hand from around Eddie in order to salute him. “I would never consider doing anything less- although you know, terminally ill or not, you’re still an adorable dork, Ed’s.” Those were the words that had Eddie smiling genuinely for the first time after they arrived at the hospital, and he gave his boyfriends, and best friends, words a soft chuckle, “But I’m your terminally ill and adorable dork.” “That you most certainly are my love, that you most certainly are.” Richie hummed as he moved to gently brush a few stray strands of hair from Eddie’s forehead, and tilted his head a little. “Anything else you want or need right now?” The answer he got was small and quiet, and almost so scared-sounding that it broke his heart. “Just.. stay with me? Please?” “Of course I will Ed’s, I promise. Through anything and everything.”

#prompt #el writes #hawkingsbabe #reddie #reddie prompt #it 2017

[love-y-o-u-3000]

Undercover in Spain - Part I Part II Part III  Part IV Part V Part VI

John wakes up feeling the warm caress of sunlight on his face. With a yawn he opens his eyes, at first a little disoriented, but it’s not long before the memories of what happened last night begin to unfold in front of him.

“Oh, God...” 

John blinks, realising the other side of the bed is empty. Sheets crumpled but Sherlock nowhere to be seen. This is not good. Now properly awake, John bolts upright and springs out of the bed, hoping Sherlock didn’t just disappear and he’ll find him somewhere else in the apartment. To his disappointment, however, the other room seems to be as vacant as the bedroom.

“Sher-Sherlock?” No response. John swallows dryly, his voice still a bit too rough this early in the morning. He gives the room another once-over then returns to the bedroom, worries creeping in but he’s trying his best to ignore them. 

He grabs his phone from the nightstand, thinking he might as well try to call Sherlock, but just as he puts the phone to his ear, he notices the balcony door is slightly ajar, and the curtains are half-closed, almost like purposefully obscuring the view through the window. It doesn’t take Sherlock himself to figure out. That must be where he’s... hiding? Looks like he is hiding. Nonetheless, John couldn’t feel more relieved. He tosses the phone on the bed and steps forward, quietly pulling the door open. His gaze immediately goes to Sherlock’s tall, slender figure leaning over the railing. Sherlock has yet to realise that John’s watching him, for John’s somewhat stiffened silently in the doorway and he himself seems to be deeply engrossed in admiring the sea view.... or not. As it transpires, Sherlock’s preoccupied doing something entirely else and it’s something John did not expect, let alone wished to witness him doing. First John notices the foul smell, and in turn, his eyes are drawn to the thin stream of smoke emanating from the cigarette Sherlock’s holding. John’s heart sinks at this sight. Why now? 

“Sherlock?” John peeps at once, clenching his left fist. Startled, Sherlock nearly chokes on the smoke, looking awfully abashed.

“S-sorry,” he coughs, still blowing out smoke as he hastily fumbles to put out the cigarette.

“Are you okay?” John has taken a step toward Sherlock, making sure not to sound like he is about to reproach him.

“I am fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he gives John a guilty look, then bows his head. “What about, uhm... you?”

“Me?”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, still visibly flustered. “Stupid question, I know. You slept for only about two hours and done none of your morning rituals yet. You must be weary and irritated and yet... the first thing you did was to search for me. Which is why I must presume you want to... talk?”

John hesitates to reply, caught between a rock and a hard place. Because of course he wants to talk. About the two of them and their relationship, the kiss they shared the other night and now there’s the darn cigarette too but in the same time, he’s well aware that opening his heart to Sherlock could potentially lead to several disastrous outcomes, and that is a risk he is not willing to take just yet.

“We both know that talking... isn’t exactly our cup of tea,” he says with a woeful sigh.

 “That’s a fairly ridiculous statement,” Sherlock objects. “Last night for instance...We talked for hours on end.”

John can’t help but chuckle at that. “I meant the serious kind of talk, Sherlock.”

“Ah, I see.” Sherlock takes a pause, rocking back and forth on his heels, eyes on the floor. “I take it you don’t want to talk about what happened last night then.”

“Well... do you?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“There’s not much to talk about anyway. The-the-” Sherlock makes a hopeless gesture with his hand pointing at his lips, “-kiss was purely experimental. A part of our cover.”

“...Yeah.”

The tension between them is almost tangible. Trivialising the whole incident is only going to make both of them feel so much more worse. But it’s the only way, John thinks. He has to keep his true feelings at bay, carefully hidden from Sherlock. And even though he did have the tiniest glimmer of hope that their relationship could bloom into something much deeper, it’s most definitely lost by now. Six more days and they’ll be back at Baker Street and this whole game of playing a couple will be over anyway. A mere thing of the past that they’ll most likely never mention again.

“I’ll understand if you want to tone it down a bit, though,” Sherlock suddenly says and it takes a moment until John comprehends. He can’t possibly concur with that now, though, for if he did, he could as well admit what kissing Sherlock truly made him feel like. Better keep downplaying it...

“No,” John shakes his head. “It’s not the first time we’re doing something this, er... unconventional for a case. You said so yourself, kissing is just the part of the job. No need to get... emotional.” These words, these ugly, painful lies taste like poison on John’s tongue but he can’t drop the facade. And, as if to convince himself that he can handle the following week without crumbling, or perhaps just to put an end to this excruciating conversation, he lifts himself up on his tiptoes and gently pecks Sherlock’s cheek.

“See? We’re fine.” They’re so not fine. John could swear he’s just caught a glimpse of hurt in Sherlock’s eyes and once he pulls back he even notices his bottom lip wobbling faintly but then Sherlock forces a weak smile and John decides it would be for the best if he simply changed the subject and let everything else go.

“So, uhm...”he rubs the back of his neck. “What about Harrington then?”

Sherlock seems to be still reeling a bit there but then he shrugs his shoulders, turning to look at the sun raising on the horizon.

“I heard he’s taking his lover to the beach later today. It would be foolish to assume he’s meeting anyone potentially dangerous to his family’s business on a beach and whilst on a date, but we are supposed to be at his heels, so.”

John is only half-listening, for he can’t help but stare at Sherlock’s face. A beautifully ethereal face bathing in the mellow pink light, sun’s rays drowning in the vast azure ocean of his eyes. Suddenly the breeze ever so gently blows through his hair and it’s like watching the most breathtaking painting come to life.

“Beach. Beach sounds nice,” John says, a bit absently, that is. It’s like he’s in trance. Sherlock, however, seems to be completely oblivious to this.

“You wouldn’t mind going?”

“Well, ahem... we’re in Spain. Staying at the hotel the whole time would be like going to Paris and not visiting the Eiffel Tower.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that if we ever visit Paris.”

John gives a strained laugh but decided to ignore this remark and change the subject yet again. Last thing he wants to talk about right now is the prospect of him and Sherlock visiting the most romantic city on Earth. 

“Err, I thought of ordering breakfast to the room,“ he says, nodding toward the other room. “Anything special on your mind?”

Sherlock sighs with a touch of theatricality to it. “You of all people should know that eating slows me down, John. We’re on a case, I must be one hundred percent fit.”

“Not eating will make you the opposite of one hundred percent fit,” John remarks.

Sherlock attempts to protest but John has already begun to walk away. Knowing he’s lost this silly little argument, Sherlock pouts but this pout of his instantly morphs into a fond, besotted smile. He wouldn’t ever admit that out loud, or at least not yet, the truth, however, is that he feels extremely flattered by how much John cares about him and his well-being.

Fifteen minutes later they’re sitting at the wicker table on the balcony, a tray of neatly arranged breakfast and two still steaming cups of coffee between them. But while John has already loaded his plate with food, Sherlock seems to be having a hard time deciding whether to put jam or cheese on his toast.

John throws a couple of furtive glances at him, at first simply smiling, because the crinkle that appears above Sherlock’s nose when he’s ruminating is just plain adorable but as soon he realises that Sherlock might end up not eating at all, he tears off a small piece of his own toast and passes it toward Sherlock’s lips. 

Baffled, Sherlock blinks at him, his eyes flicking between the toast between John’s fingers and his face. “What exactly are you doing John?”

“Feeding you.”

“Because... it’s what couples do?”

John feels the redness building up on his cheeks. “N-no. Because you wouldn’t eat otherwise and I don’t want you to pass out.”

Sherlock’s gaze goes to John’s hand once more, he seems to be contemplating. But only for a moment. With a sheepish smile he leans forward, slowly opens his mouth and - locking their eyes - he bites on the toast John has offered.

The hell is he thinking? John gulps, heart thundering in his ears. He could as well moan out loud or make a similarly inappropriate sound and he wouldn’t even be aware of it. It actually takes him solid five seconds to realise that his hand is still hovering in the air and he’s gaping at Sherlock like a properly confounded fish. Embarrassed to the very core, John quickly leans back in his seat, trying to refocus on his breakfast but God, does he need an ice cold shower right now...

Having spent almost twenty minutes waiting for John to finish what was supposed to be a quick rinse, Sherlock should be the one asking questions but somewhat ironically, once John finally leaves the bathroom, it’s him who has some explaining to do.

“You want to go outside like that?” John frowns, pointing at Sherlock’s shirt, unbuttoned halfway down and thus exposing an obscenely large patch of his skin. 

“Umm... John, you do realise we’re going to the beach and I am going to loose the shirt anyway?”

“You are?” John takes a pause, momentarily distracted by the mental image. “I-I mean, of course you are. What’s the idea then? Take a swim in the sea?“

“In the sea? No.” Sherlock makes a disgruntled grimace, the mere concept seems to be repulsing him. “Salt water makes my skin itch. If the opportunity arises, I’ll be happy to take a swim in the ginormous swimming pool outside the hotel but today, the plan is to lie on the shore and do nothing at all.”

“And by that you mean... monitor our guy?”

“...Yes.”

They arrive at the beach shortly before noon and quickly find just the right spot to lay a blanket, relatively far from where the rest of the people is sunbathing. John, however, notices that Harrington himself doesn’t seem to be among them.

“Are you sure he’s going to be here?” John puts his hands to his hips, taking a thoughtful look around the beach. 

“He’ll show up. Sooner or later.”

John chuckles, his eyes going to Sherlock, who’s now sitting cross-legged on the blanket. “Why do I have a feeling that you-” He starts but all at once, his voice falters, dissolving into a single barely audible oh. For Sherlock has not only already taken off his shirt, John actually catches him scrupulously applying tons of sunscreen to his arms.

“Can you please put some of this onto to my back?” Unaware of what is going through John’s head, Sherlock extends his hand to pass him the tube. 

“I-um... s-sure.”

“Don’t skimp on it. I have a very sensitive skin.”

Sensitive skin. On one hand, it’s somewhat an honour to be entrusted with this kind of private information, on another, John can feel his fingers trembling as he pours some of the lotion onto his palms. He kneels behind Sherlock and ever so gently begins to massage the sunscreen into his back. It’s a moment so intimate, John wishes to forget they’re in public. And Sherlock... Sherlock makes it anything but easier.  

“Your hands are soft...”

John freezes like a deer in the headlights. That wasn’t a mere observation. More like a compliment, spoken in a small, timid, half-whisper. A compliment John can only hardly formulate a proper response to.

“Why... thank you?” Mindlessly, John keeps stroking his palms up and down Sherlock’s back even though the sunscreen has already began to seep into his skin. 

Sherlock seems to be unfazed by this, or perhaps he finds it amusing even, judging by the low chuckle that’s just rumbled deep in his chest.

“Can I make a request?”

It’s not until now that John pulls back and with a half confused frown and still on his knees he crawls around Sherlock so he can face him. “Request?” He sits down on his heels, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of a request?”

Sherlock smiles, leaning back and propping himself up on his elbows. “Once we get back to our room, you have to give me a massage.”

Is he joking? Possibly yes. But it doesn’t stop John from returning the smile. “I have to?”

“I would... appreciate if you would... Better?”

John crosses his arms. “Since when are you into massages?”

“Since three minutes ago. I mean, I could go to a SPA but I trust you, as a doctor, will do a better job.”

A small giggle escapes John’s throat. “Alright. I might consider it.”

Were this a real relationship, John would most likely lean in for a sweet little kiss to seal the deal. Make that most definitely. In fact, he should do that regardless, he thinks, but it seems that Sherlock’s attention has already been distracted and thus the moment is ruined even before it actually managed to happen.

“I told you he’d be here,” Sherlock utters, nodding toward the couple that’s just showed up strolling down the beach.

“We have to keep a low profile. Don’t stare too much... Actually, don’t stare at all. It’s boring.”

“What... what do you suggest, then?”

“I already told you, John.”

“Ah, right. Nothing at all,” John snorts.

Shrugging, Sherlock lies down on the blanket, gazing up at the cloudless sky for a moment before he turns to face John again... “You can as well give me the kiss you would have given me had Harrington's presence not disturbed you.”

John’s eyes widen. Was it that obvious?

Sherlock can but smile in response to John’s nonplussed expression, which in turn brings a huge grin to John’s face. It doesn’t take long and suddenly they’re both giggling like two lovesick teenagers, unable to hold back...

@pastelcolorsandrain @echosilverwolf @johnlocked-in-portland @hpswl-cumbercookie @mypatronusisaunicorn @ljetno-sivilo @tildathings @johnlockedatbakerst @shiplocks-of-love @silver99johnlocked @besina @dearlydevoteddawdler @sherlockruiningmylife @yorkiepug @shafster101 @morgendaemmerung89 @mcjohnlock @bunaddict @i-need-you-buddy @gername

#johnlock #mine #ficlet

[courtorderedcake]

An Enchanted Forest AU where the dark one was never released into the world in a vessel, thus causing a massive shift in timelines. The ogre wars have ravaged kingdoms, untold destruction spanning continents, rulers displaced. Even as the wars sputter to ash, the safest place to be is at sea, and that’s not very safe at all - as Emma and Killian find out, fates intertwined against all odds.

Rated: E/X - heavy content : warnings of assault, rape, noncon, just everything, I feel like the rating says enough. It’s something.

I have been sick, so enjoy a two-fer week. Here’s number two!

WARNING:  This chapter contains sex that has kink elements some might not be comfortable with. 

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Read on Ao3 HERE .

Chapter IV: Seafoam

I have seafoam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.

-Jean Cocteau

A storm chased The Jolly Roger into the town that was situated before the ruins of the Enchanted Forest. As thunder and lightning shook the skies overhead, more ships fled the monstrous gale that stirred the sea into waves that were towering like mountains. Storms made him anxious now, a phantom ache where his hand had been even as almost a year had past since he made the brace that supported his hook, and since his surname had been lost under a namesake of the same appendage.

He hated the looks of pity people gave him now, but relished the fear that replaced it when the sharp point of his hook caught the light. There were very few people who treated him the same as before, or didn’t stare, but they were far and few between. His crew and Captain Swan’s crew were among those few.

Letting the rain pelt him, Killian watched from the Jolly’s deck, a spyglass in hand, as his crew buggered off to do whatever was left to do in the pitiful town. On the horizon, her sails black and gold even against the gray of the clouds, The Gilded Wing breezed in to anchor. Killian smiled, even if he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe it was the many memories of her captain warm underneath him or splayed on top of him, as he repaid a debt owed in one of the few ways he could; stomping over to her in heated rages or her appearing in his quarters to yell at him, until she moaned his name instead. At most, they’d seen each other several times in a month, a freak snowstorm stranding them for a week in Arendelle, royalty running amuck to pickpocket - or so he’d heard told when he returned from Swan’s quarters in the mornings, lighter in some ways himself.

The last time he saw Swan, she’d been furious about a misunderstanding with a vendor they had both dealt with that had caused her trade to fall through, while his own trade filled the vendor’s need as agreed. He hated the vendor, a slimy git who stained the not so sterling reputation of Camelot further with his greased palms. Swan had dragged him out to the middle of nowhere, damning his name as she divested him of clothing in a field of flowers, his hook digging into the soft ground.

He wasn’t intending to be where she was, and she swore the same; the utter ridiculousness of it making them waste panted air in laughter, pulling away from the other to bask in the high of their trysts.

The wind shifted suddenly, changing directions without warning. His coat fluttered, and he took a breath of the storm air.

Things were changing.

Emma and her crew limped The Wing into the harbor, barely making it through the turbulent water and screeching winds. Even with a simple charm to keep rain off of her deck, the wind whipped and howled around the barrier.

David gave an audible sigh of relief from holding the ropes while Snow smiled at him. Emma rolled her eyes; there was literally no reason to hide that they were together any longer, but David insisted. Snow had told Emma as much one afternoon as they lounged on the huge four poster bed she’d bought for the Captain’s quarters. “He wants to keep me safe I guess. Thinks if it got out, they’d exploit us, use us against each other as a weakness.” She gave a pointed look at Emma. “Try to use our emotions to manipulate us, possibly without us even being aware.”

“That sounds awful.” Emma took a large bite of a cinnamon pastry, swallowing loudly. “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with all that.”

Snow huffed a sigh, rolling over and standing, leaving Emma blinking in confusion.

Surveying the harbor, she smiled at the assembled crews she saw between the wary merchant vessels and a passenger sloop gathered there: Maelstrom, The Jolly Roger, The Jammed Pearl, The Curse of McGullan, and Red Hamsa all sat in various depths.

Emma's eyes were immediately drawn to The Jolly, catching a glimpse of Hook, his coat flapping in the wind and his hair being tossed as rain swept across the water.

David grunted beside her, nodding at The Jolly. “He's here. Of course he is.”

“So are four other ships. Hopefully, we won't see much of each other, and this storm clears quickly. Especially since the Maelstrom is here- I'd rather not deal with their crew if possible. “

“You make friends everywhere we go,” David smirked.

“It's a gift. Truly.”

“There's someone here I want you to meet, Em, speaking of friends.”

“You have friends? And here I've been lying to people for years!” Emma mock exclaimed.

“Shut up.” He picked at a bit of wood, a nervous tic that made Emma anxious. “He's a shopkeeper; nice, quiet, strong. I think you'd like him.”

“But who will I bring on our double date?” Emma teased.

“Go say hello. He works at Elm Leaf Market. He’s where I get those cuts of meat you like. Apparently, he hunts everything himself.”

“I really don't know how I feel about taking your sloppy seconds, but if you insist -”

“Emma.” David grasped her arm, pulling her to look at him. “This life doesn't have to be forever. You don't have to settle for-”

“I am well aware, David,” Emma wrenched her arm away from him. “I have never settled for less than I deserve, and I don't ever intend to. I like this life.”

David grunted, opening his mouth as if to say something, then closed it with a grimace, staring past her through the rain. Following his gaze, she could see the empty deck of The Jolly Roger, beaten by the same rain that battered her barrier charm.

“Just remember, Em,” David sighed. “You deserve to be happy. You've fought hard, and you don't have to settle for less.” He walked to the lower deck where Snow had been watching the exchange. He stood beside her without saying anything until she rested her head against his chest.

A pink dress was laid out for Emma on her bed, as Snow tightened a full corset around her waist. Emma would sigh with annoyance if she could; the tight garment was practically cutting off her circulation.

“Why am I wearing this again?” Emma groaned.

“Because,” Snow smiled, fussing with her hair, and letting it fall in soft curls. “It makes you look amazing. Especially your -” Snow gestured to Emma’s chest, giggling.

Emma had to admit, the corset worked wonders. Rubbing on lavender, lotus, sweet pea, and orange oil, and slipping on the pink dress in its thin satin, they surveyed her reflection in the polished copper mirror. With her hair pulled out of its usual snarled style and brushed to soften it, and the smallest touches from a pot of rouge, it was a complete transformation.

“Emma, you look -”

“Oh,” Emma smiled, wolfishly. “I know.”

Walking off her ship towards the market, Emma saw Scarlet, one of the members of Hook’s crew, do a double take while flirting with a flower seller. That was enough to seal her opinion on how well Snow and her had done.

The Elm Leaf Market was really all that was left of the village, a sort of smushed catch all of sundries, a butcher shop, a blacksmith, a greenery, apothecary, and anything else a booth could hold. It was always busy with the bedraggled survivors who lived on the outskirts of ogre country, buying supplies in bulk or spending time drinking away memories of what was.

Emma felt like a ghost as she waded through the slow crowd, watching as people sometimes parted around her in shock, her blush colored gown standing out in the sea of gray and brown cloaks. She'd worn a shawl and her dress clung slightly, but she'd missed most of the rain as it blew back to sea.

Graham was easy enough to find, and even easier (she had to admit) on the eyes. Shaggy brown hair, large kind eyes, broad shoulders and a soft brogue that stuttered a hello when she bent across his counter, giving him a view of her cleavage.

“Would you like to get a drink tonight? My brother seems to think we'd get along splendidly.” Emma purred, playing with a small wooden figurine of a stag, and looking up at him through her lashes.

He gulped.

“Um… sure, I … Shouldn't... Shouldn't I have asked you?”

She motioned him closer, whispering in his ear softly, feeling forward as the man practically melted.

“I'm not exactly one for propriety. See you tonight.”

She gave him a saucy wink, and headed back out of the market.

Things were changing. The air was electric, still misting rain that made her dress cling under a quick shielding spell. Hugging her shawl closer, she was briefly focused elsewhere when she ran into someone’s shoulder, tripping forward.

 Will Scarlet had come back breathless, pulling Killian aside in his excited state, even more so than usual. He whispered low, his voice practically shaking with energy.

“Will, if this is about liquor sales -”

“No, no, Captain -” Will wore a huge grin. “Have you seen Captain Swan today?”

“Briefly, when The Wing sailed in. Wait, why?” Ice water froze his veins for a moment, unsettling him. “Is she alright?”

Will quirked an eyebrow and gave a half smile. “Oh, she's fine. Just fine. I would make a point to say hello to her today if I were you.”

“Scarlet, I don't like riddles. What's going on with her?”

“I told you, nothing.” The skinny man shrugged, his smile growing. “And if there was, why would you care?”

Killian blinked, slowly. “I don’t. I owe her a debt. That's all.”

“Sure. I'd hurry, she was moving quickly.”

Killian blinked again, and nodded slightly. “This better be good, Scarlet.”

Walking down the dirt path towards the market and letting the rain pelt him, he kept an eye out for her gold hair, windswept and slightly wild. He'd shed his coat to spare it from the rain, wearing just a pair of breeches and a black vest. Reaching the market he was immediately annoyed with Scarlet. Emma wasn't there. An older woman haggled for potatoes. A man sold eggs, ducklings, and chicks. A shop keep and maiden flirted over a counter. A child begged for coin. He turned to go back to the Jolly, and to give Scarlet a severe tongue lashing.

Then he heard her laugh. Turning, he squinted through the rain as it quieted. Emma. She glowed, her hair soft, skin peaches and cream, lips a soft rose color and good Gods above, below, and maybe in the middle her breasts -

His lungs actually hurt when he found breath again. Scarlet was getting a brick of bouillon for this. He stood stupidly, watching her cast a quick spell as she came towards him. He let himself drift into a thought of her just kissing him on the cheek as they walked by the water watching the storm, her laying against his chest in that dress as they pulled a blanket around them, staying warm in the rain -

She ran into him.

“Oh, sorry. Usually people walk you know -” She looked up at him, her eyes rimmed in kohl, and her grimace turned into a frown. “Oh, it's you. God, didn't the Navy teach you how to walk or close your stupid mouth? You're going to catch flies.” Emma reached her hand to his chin, closing his mouth. “There.” She gave him a small pat on the cheek and walked past.

Killian turned to watch her, before shaking his head and walking briskly to catch up with her.

“Swan.” He swallowed thickly, trying to still his nerves, “Would you like to, uh,” he scratched behind his ear. “I owe you an ale, or rum, or whatever you would like to drink and I-”

“I have a date tonight,” she shrugged. “If you want to send it over to us, feel free, but Graham and I may be busy.”

She turned and walked away from him and for the first time, Killian felt a strange emotion well up in his chest. No matter how hard he tried to push it down, it rose again and again like a snake, striking him with fits of rage- and something else he refused to examine.

Graham. He hated the name instantly.

Pacing in his cabin that evening, he finally decided to make his way to the only tavern in the shithole ruined town he was stuck in. Throwing on his coat, he gave orders to Smee and made his way into town. Most of the place was in ruins or abandoned, casting an eerie silence that was only broken by the echoes from the tavern. He walked into the shoddy building and sat at the bar. The Adder’s Bite was as full as the lonely place could be. He spotted Swan right away with the halfwit, his hands low on her waist as they danced to the directions of a fiddle player.

When the fiddler told them to grab their partner, the moron fumbled. Killian gripped the table as his knuckles went white, ready to bash his head in, until Swan laughed at his slip up. They continued on and the second time Graham lifted her with ease. Killian asked for a glass carafe, and began to pour himself a heavy glass to parch his throat, immediately pouring another.

Watching them together, Swan’s neck long and pale as she threw back her head and laughed, Killian felt a heavy desire that actually hurt. His face was hot, and he could feel his pulse thump heavily as he watched her hands, those clever fingers, thread with Graham’s as he spun her. Killian stood, throwing back his drink, and made his way towards them. “May I cut in, mate?” he said lowly, and Emma glowered at him. “We’re busy Hook. My dance card is full,” she hissed, and the man blinked slowly at Killian, looking back at Emma. “The woman said we’re busy,” he said in an accented voice, one from the Northern Isles. “So I guess we’re busy. Better luck next time,” he shrugged.

Killian seethed under a wolfish grin. “I insist.” He pushed the man aside and took a struggling Emma out on the dance floor. The man sat down, arms crossed as his shaggy brown hair flopped over his eyes. He looked pathetic.

“Let go of me, you ass! Graham and I were fine before you -”

“Before I what? Showed you how to pick a partner who knows what they’re doing?” A fiddle player picked up with the accordion as other dancers took the floor with them. Emma resisted again for a moment, before she allowed herself to be spun back into his chest, his hook pressing against the small of her back. She huffed, but a smile had crept up into her features, and he spun them again. “You ruin everything, you know. You’re lucky you are a good dancer.”

He smirked, casting a glance back at Graham, who was now approaching them. He gripped Emma’s waist tighter, the same flare of that heat in his chest sparking a need to be possessive of her. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, how stunned he was not only now but every time he saw her. Instead he let himself guide her in a gentle sway.

“You're not bad yourself, Swan.” He murmured, and underneath he hoped she could hear what he couldn't say. He could just kiss her and hope for the best, or if she just heard the words he wanted to say, she might press her lips against his -

She didn't. She let go of Killian, returning to Graham’s arms instead. Killian returned to his table and watched a bit longer as she laughed at Graham’s clumsiness. He swirled drink after drink, a new glass replacing every one finished without an order, watching as her face lit in a way she had never shown towards him. He swallowed another several fingers of rum in a gulp.

What they had was good. It was fine, his brain screamed, trying to interject logic over his drunkenness and jealousy. He blinked, staring at the amber in his glass that had begun to spin. Jealousy? He wanted to fuck, to ruin, to bruise pale skin and lips, not dance or light her face with that beautiful laugh of hers that made his ears heat -

He shook it off, his head spinning. Fucking hells, he was drunk. A little voice he pretended not to hear rustled in his mind, whispering that he wanted more; wanted to be in this ‘Graham's’ stead; wanted to press gentle kisses on her temples as they twirled for hours to fiddle song. It sounded like Liam’s quiet candor, wounding him, and he pushed it down with force.

He swallowed another glass, impatiently waiting the minute until another appeared. Graham stumbled again and Killian had to resist every drunken instinct screaming for him to break the man's legs for stepping on his Swan’s pretty feet. It was a bloody waltz. What sodding wanker of a man couldn't do a three step - He blinked, processing his thoughts slowly. His Swan? He knocked back another drink, savoring the burn down his throat.

They sat, and he grinned when Emma's hands rubbed her feet delicately. The grin vanished quickly, though, when her wincing brought Graham's dolt hands to stroke her calves, eliciting a quiet moan from that pretty mouth. When the other man kissed her, Killian stared into his glass, trying to understand why his heart thumped loudly, his skin heated, and his muscles tensed at the thought of that worthless fucking oaf touching her. Why him? He’d skin the man alive for his useless hide for thinking he was worthy.

That stupid voice spoke to him again, Liam’s annoying older brother voice full of pity and life weary experience:

You know why you feel this way.

He swallowed another drink and stood, plopping down at another table.

“You idiots want to make some quick coin?”

 When he woke up, Killian’s head pounded like he'd smashed it against shore stones and he had a mighty need for water and a hearty meal. He'd drank far too much last night, been out of control, and now even opening his eyes to the bright light of wherever the hell he was became a challenge.

Flesh stirred near his abdomen, while on the other side of him someone breathed steadily. As his brain pulled itself from its drunken haze, he registered that he was in a large bed with at least three other bodies, all very nude. Creaking his eyes open, he recognized the linens and ceiling. Cora’s Place.

Killian closed his eyes and lifted his hand to the bridge of his nose. Sorting through memories, he tried to remember what happened last night. He'd gone from dancing with Emma to a blank. Shaky pieces of memory came back to him and he groaned.

He'd gone to sit with some rough lads, asking for a favor owed. Watching Emma and Graham part with a kiss, and the blokes approach Graham in an alley. Staggering back into the shadows and into Cora’s Place. Picking three blondes and being led to a room, where he promptly stripped nude and…

He'd fallen asleep.

He felt the soft touch of a hand graze his cock, and the whisper of a raspy, low, voice.

“I know our time is up, but since you haven't been serviced…” A woman pressed her wet mouth onto the side of his semi erect member, licking circles.

Killian sighed, and tried to enjoy the sensation, but it was wrong. Her mouth was too wet and too rough, her teeth catching occasionally. He pushed her off and the two other women woke as he stood.

“Was it not pleasurable, sir?” The woman looked at him with wide eyes. The other two women stared at them groggily.

“No. Yes. I mean -” he started to dress, looking for his discarded clothes.

“It’s alright. We're not her. Happens more often than you menfolk want to admit,” one of the women on the bed said sleepily. “We’re poor substitutes for the real thing.”

Killian blinked, pausing from shrugging on his shirt over his hook. He stared at the blonde woman who had spoken, lying in bed. Her blonde curls framed a heart shaped face and deep brown eyes.

“We're not Emma.”

He bristled, tensing. “How do you, why did -”

“Ya talk in ya sleep, mate,” said the other dozing woman, pale platinum hair a tangled mess. “Musta ‘ad Emma on ya mind. We ‘eard ya mumble it a dozen times.”

He blanched. Pulling the rest of his clothing together, he went to leave, throwing on his shoes, his anger and embarrassment rising. He rushed out, long overcoat thrown on in haste, and heard one of the women call after him.

“We will never tell anyone. We never do.”

Bursting through the door into the burning sunlight, Killian stumbled through the back alleys of ruined homes and narrow side streets between abandoned shops that he usually took to get to his ship. His head throbbed, and his mood had gone sour with the whores’ accusations.

When he tripped over a vagrant lying in a narrow corridor, he pulled the man up by his collar. Graham's bloody and barely conscious face greeted him.

“Shit,” Killian hissed, as Graham whimpered and blocked his face. “What, you didn't even fight back? What a worthless, spineless, wet scrap of a dog -”

Graham laughed at that, and Killian put the idiot down. He obviously had a brain injury.

“I can't fight back.” Graham said, spitting blood.

“What? What kind of man can't fight -”

“It's complicated.”

“Well, good luck to you and your complications. I have enough of my own.” Killian turned to walk away.

Graham curled himself into a ball, his back facing Killian.

“Oh bloody hell mate,” Killian gave an exasperated sigh. A dagger stuck out of the man's back. “You bloody idiot, you've been stabbed -”

“I know, but you're not supposed to take it out because it will bleed more, and it's not silver-”

“You damned fool, you have to take it out at some point!” Killian wiped his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was far too hungover for this; the consequences of his actions back to bite him immediately.

Graham shook, and Killian recognized the oncoming stage of shock about to set into the man's beaten body.

Giving a long sigh, Killian helped the man up and limped him to the Jolly. Laying him in the sick bay, he let Smee tend to him and stitch him up. He gave the man a heavy dosing of rum before sitting to watch.

“Can you cook better than you fight?” Smee asked, sewing up a nasty gash.

Graham nodded, wincing and whimpering even after several shots of rum. “Aye, yea, I can cook.”

“Ship needs a cook. You'll pay the Cap’n back for saving you by cooking.”

Graham's face was sheer panic, before he put on an air of indifference. Killian noted there might be more to the idiot after all.

“Is there, or do you have, a strong brig or cell?” he asked calmly. “I'll need it every so often.”

Smee squinted, but Killian spoke up. “That's fine. We haven't had a lycanthrope aboard before.”

Graham’s face went pale, staring at Killian with fear. Smee only scratched his head through his knit cap, muttering the word.

“Forget you heard that word, and get out.” Killian pointed at Smee, waving him out. There was an uneasy beat of silence. “You can go back to the market if you like, shopkeep. If you have a pack, or kin, which I don’t think you do. Courting a human is bold.”

A hard glint behind Graham’s eyes revealed the predator underneath if just for a moment. Killian picked his thumb with his hook, smirking.

“I didn’t… She came on to me. I’d be an idiot to say no. What is this anyway, some jealous attack on me?” Killian’s jaw set at the idea of himself being jealous. This was for Emma’s safety, and was a clear drunken mistake. Before Killian could retort, Graham let out a growled laugh, looking at his hands. “You did me a favor though, I guess. You’re right. I haven’t anyone there. I thought Emma could cure me if we got close enough, or could take me across the sea to a pack who’d take me. Her brother and her have a weak scent of werewolf on them.”

Killian blinked, and then laughed. “I assure you, Swan isn’t. Bite and Bark without all the fur, very much so. No offense mate.” Graham looked mollified, and frowned. “I’ll go with you. I’ll let you know when I need to be locked -” Killian held up his hand to stop the man. “You can have shore leave. We took a she-wolf to Glowerhaven, and were late to arrive. I’d rather not sustain that much damage to my ship again, if possible.” Killian winced at the memory of deep grooves of claw marks that had splintered the floorboards.

“Fine with me. It’s also easier to bring meat back that way, then I don’t need a cow on board.” Graham shrugged. “When do we leave?”

“Now.” Killian said with a shrug. “You really thought Emma could cure you?”

“Well, I thought she might be sympathetic to my cause, associating with someone like me and being able to use magic. I thought maybe she might even let me mark her if -”

“Mark her?” Killian looked up with narrowed eyes, jaw clenching tight. “You mean change her into…” “If she consented, yes, so we could have a pack bond.”

Killian’s rage was back in full force, a sudden explosion that he couldn’t quell. His hands were on Graham’s collar, snarling at the injured man. “Don’t ever consider that thought again. Stay away from her or I will smelt a silver chain so long it will wrap around you twice, and throw you into the ocean.”

Graham’s eyes were wide, and Killian unclenched his fingers, backing away. “As soon as your able, go clean the galley until it’s not only spotless, but it shines. I don’t want to see your face until it’s done.” Killian hissed, and left the small room. Stalking out into fresh air, he breathed out a ragged breath, signalling the order to ship out.

 Emma wasn’t surprised that Graham disappeared. She didn’t bother telling David, knowing he’d demand an excuse from the butcher, which would just make things worse. She didn’t need a reason as to why he had decided to up and go; a reason only made things worse and identified one of her “qualities” that made her undesirable to someone. Emma didn’t want one identified when there were so many she knew herself.

It didn’t matter why he left. He did, he didn’t leave a note, and he obviously wasn’t interested. What was done was done. She had better things to do. Belle had been studying movements of currents and winds over shipping routes as a pet project, noting where ships seemed to go down with only natural events. Based on her conjecture, she had shown Emma a map of where she suspected a large amount of treasure may have been pushed by currents. They had been heading there before the bad weather had hit, unwilling to be in treacherous waters as a storm pummeled them.

They sailed back, making good time. The weather was beautiful, and the water almost as blue as the sky in places, the crew lounging about the deck. Belle called down to her when they were a day or so away from their destination, pointing to a familiar shape appearing on the horizon. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Emma heard her brother groan. “Emma, you didn’t -”

“Of course I didn’t say anything to him. I don’t advertise my plans, especially when they involve us being fed.” She glared at David, and he glared back. Belle hopped down from the rigging, looking embarrassed.

“It um, it might be my fault,” Belle looked down at her feet, holding a book and her spyglass against her back. “I uh… Will came to see me before we left, said I hadn’t been at the bar and he wondered how I was doing. I showed him some of my calculations and we talked. I didn’t think anything of it.”

David threw up his hands, exasperated. “Great! Another one.” Snow shot him a dangerous look, and went to Belle’s side. “It’s not her fault, David.” Snow patted Belle sympathetically on the shoulder, and all eyes looked to Emma as they approached. Emma rolled her eyes. “Emma, it’s not -”

“I know it’s not Belle’s fault. Belle, it isn’t. We’ll just… I’ll just… We’ll ignore him. We’ll get what we came here for, and he can leave well enough alone.” Emma ran her hands through her hair, pinning it back away from her face. “Let’s get swimming. Shall we?”

After a break, the crew came back and took position, uncaring as the Jolly Roger slunk into a clearer view. Emma dove into the water holding the chain in hand, the first one in the water. Waiting for her crew, she opened the bottle of potion she held, letting the content swirl around her. Ruby came next, as Emma felt the shock of water in her lungs. It wasn’t comfortable, but she wasn’t dead. Ruby opened hers, grimacing as gills appeared and she took a breath of the sea water. David and Snow came together, Snow the first to try to speak, croaking something ridiculous before clapping hands over her mouth. Ruby grinned, and Emma simply shook her head as they swam down.

Belle had been right. Searching through the water with a simple light spell, they found ship after broken ship on the reef, aptly named ‘The Reef of Broken Hulls’. The current had swept lighter goods into a small valley on the seafloor, while heavier casks remained unbroken and crates that were intact. Attaching the chains to boxes, Ruby gave a signal to The Wing, and slowly they were pulled up.

The work slowed down as the large pieces were pulled up, so the crew now had to scavenge the smaller pieces for anything left. Emma floated lazily picking through wreckage and admiring the algae covered figureheads. Looking back towards The Wing, she noticed the shadow of The Jolly Roger a ways off. Squinting, she did a quick push off of a piece of wreckage, spotting an unrecognized form sorting through what was left.

She swam closer, peeking around the broken stern of a ship. Blinking, she let out a croaking guffaw at the sight in front of her. A large shimmering bubble floated around the heads of Hook, Will, and a man she didn’t immediately recognize. Emma had seen the spell but had chosen against it in favor of being able to swim more naturally, sight unobscured.

Gathering her finds, she made her way closer. Hook glanced up at her, his face strangely magnified and skewed like a warped mirror. He pointed, and Will and the other man looked her way. Graham’s face looked back at her from one of the iridescent globes. So, he’d left to join the Jolly. Ironic that he’d left to get away, only to potentially see her more often.

Ruby swam by Emma’s line of sight with her back towards her, body tense. Emma sunk down to her level and touched Ruby’s shoulder, surprised when her friend turned with her teeth bared. Relaxing slightly, she made a motion towards the three, where Graham stared straight at them. Emma pulled at Ruby’s arm, but she made no motion to move, caught in some sort of strange staring war. Emma gave her a pinch, and she shook out of the trance, smiling apologetically. They swam towards The Wing, but Emma noticed with concern her friend looking back over her shoulder with a strange look of anxious curiosity.

Pulling themselves on the deck, they took the antidote that waited for them, Emma enjoying the feeling of rightness that came from breathing air again.

“Ruby, the hell was -” Emma began, pushing wet hair out of her face.

“He’s like me.”

“Wait. What?” Emma watched as Ruby wrung her hair, chewing on her lip. “He’s…?”

“You can say it, Emma. He’s a werewolf, like me. Not taking a potion or anything either. Super weird smelling him underwater, sorry about that. The wolf thought he might be a threat because he smelled…” Ruby’s cheeks colored, and she shook her head. “Anyway. Don’t worry about it, we just had a moment between us. It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh-huh. Ruby, you can talk to me if -”

“It’s nothing,” Ruby hissed, and Emma backed off.

Walking over to survey their finds, she glanced over at The Jolly bobbing gently on the sea. Belle had seethed all day over her mistake, angry Will had used her. Their on and off talks had never led to betrayal, and Belle was not one who actively sought out anyone’s company. The fact she’d let Will in, and he’d done this - Emma felt the flare of anger in her own chest.

It was a comfort to Emma that at least Belle got to see this to fruition. She’d excitedly surveyed their finds, marveling over jewels, coins of countries lost to the ages, beautiful pendants, and casks of who knew what. She’d be busy for weeks studying the trading logos.

“Are we able to set sail?” Emma called to David. At his nod, they lifted anchor, Emma calling the crew to deck to discuss how they’d like to split their finds. Emma turned back, surprised to see Ruby at Belle’s side. Both had picked out a few pieces already, Belle choosing a beautiful citrine ring and Ruby choosing her namesake in a pair of earbobs. They both stared out at the Jolly as it faded away into the distance. Emma retired below deck, letting the others go over the spoils.

 The next months dragged with one disaster after another, to the point of Emma wondering if they had somehow invoked a curse or angered some lesser known deity. The first sign of trouble had been a strange and tense encounter with the older captain of The Red Hamsa, Omar. He’d given her a warning, speaking low outside of the inn at the lesser known outpost in Northern Camelot. They made moonshine that could scrape off barnacles without the touch of a finger, but a drink was a drink.

“Lie low, little bird. There’s talk of danger for you. A gathering of captains that will meet, led by Blackbeard.” His voice was like feet dragging over gravel, the long water pipe in his lips mixing smoke with the salt and pepper of his beard. “The Hook has been asked to join, as was I. I refused the offer; I was tired of these games long before any of you were sailing. Watch who your friends are.”

He blew smoke, the form of a butterfly appearing in the herbal scented wisps. It fluttered a few paces before dissolving, following his form as he hobbled away. Emma believed in many superstitions as they related to the sea and magic, but she tried to not put stock into portents of doom. It was wasteful. A purposeful look at anything could identify some symbolism within. However, the butterfly was a renowned symbol, just like the ship its maker commanded. A Hamsa was a ward for the evil eye, the hand of the Old Gods that could bring peace or war. A butterfly under the same sky they molded meant change, usually with force.

Emma turned on her heel, ready to get back aboard her ship and leave as soon as possible, but Ruby was in the woods and who knew how drunk anyone else was. She hissed a string of expletives.

“How is it there’s a whole bloody ocean but I still end up in the same waters as you?” Emma tensed, the low, wry chuckle a comfort and curse. Hook stepped out of the shadows where he’d been leaning, looking amused with himself.

“Maybe if you stopped following our ship, or poaching our finds -”

“A pirate’s life, finder’s keepers love.” There was a new ring on one of his fingers and she glared at it, knowing she’d seen its ilk in their coffers. The vulture. His hook shone in the light from the thin windows.

“You are a child.” He caught her as she pushed past him, pressing her against the wooden wall of the inn with his arms on either side of her body. His breath didn’t reek of the moonshine here, but she could smell rum, spices, and anise. “I don’t have time for this, what do you want?” Emma dropped her voice to a whisper, hiding the way her breath hitched when he leaned in closer.

“I owe you an apology,” Hook whispered in turn. The space between them was fractional, Emma could feel his breath on her cheek, his eyes serious.

“You owe me several. We can arrange an appointment if you’d like them organized.” Ignoring her attempt to push past him, Emma let out an annoyed huff.

“I’m sorry about Graham.” Hook looked away from her, a flash of guilt colored in that disarming blue.

“Why are you sorry? Because you took him to sea? Don’t be. Ruby was happy to go with us; she said that the packs in what’s left of the Enchanted Forest are constantly fighting among themselves or getting killed by ogres. You probably did him a favor.” Emma shrugged, and he opened his mouth to say something more until her fingers met his lips to stop him. “Ruby and him can run all night, she mentioned something about him when you poached our loot.”

“Can you let that go if I say I’m sorry? I was hoping you’d come stomping over and…” His eyes were back on her own, one eyebrow raised as he licked his lips.

“You’re an insufferable idiot. A fool.” Emma threw up her hands, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“You look lovely tonight, Swan.” Her mouth flew open to retort his insult, but stayed as a round shocked ‘oh’ as she absorbed the compliment instead. Hook’s lips pressed against her own, no hunger but a heavy heat instead. It had been some time since they had laid together, a fire starting low in her stomach as she raised a leg for him to grasp, teeth grazing his lips. His fingers bruised her thigh, and she heard him curse, pulling away with his eyes closed.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” he asked through heavy breaths. She must have looked at him incredulously, because he ran a hand through his hair embarrassed. “I mean, down by the shoreline, or up by the wood? What are you doing?”

Emma rested a hand against his forehead. At his look of confusion, she pulled her hand away. “You don’t have a fever. I’m just confused as to why we would ever go for a walk together. Unless it’s to one of our cabins or to the inn, I don’t -”

He pulled away completely, nodding. “Sorry, love. I’m not myself tonight. Maybe I do have a fever.”

“We can go if you want, I guess. I just...” She reached a hand forward, not understanding the strange reaction he was having. “We don’t really -”

“No, it’s alright Swan. Have a good night.” Hook backed away with a slight bow, heading inside to cheers from who she assumed was his own crew.

Emma returned to The Wing, laying on her bed listening to the waves and the beginning calls of gulls. She heard the soft footfalls of people returning, and then felt the press of someone sitting on the edge of her bed. Looking up, Emma saw a fully disheveled Ruby who was grinning with her eyes bright. Ruby pulled a twig from her hair and flicked it at Emma.

“Oh. Well,” Emma sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes. “Don’t you look smitten.”

“Emma.” Ruby whined, scooting closer.

“Alright. Tell me about it.” Emma turned to face Ruby, as the woman gushed about running with the other wolf. There weren’t any other pack claims here, just them and running free as far as their legs could carry them. Ruby tried to explain things about instincts and how they communicated, but when she couldn’t, Emma got the gist.

“What a cosmic joke,” Emma murmured. Ruby patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“Sometimes I think you like to be by him. Hook, I mean. Not that I mind anymore. They can follow us every full moon as far as I’m concerned.”

“No. They can’t.” Emma shot her a sharp look, and Ruby sighed leaving her alone in her room.

 Another few months dragged by, and Emma purposely tried to avoid crossing The Jolly with mixed results. Then, she purposely sought them out as she felt danger looming on her horizon. They’d been spending time down in the Far South, her skin tanned and hair a bright gold from the sun. The look on Hook’s face when she approached didn’t calm her nerves; his eyes were dark over the steel tankard of whatever he was drinking. He set it aside, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve.

“What have I done now, Swan.” He made a motion with his hook for her to sit down.

Emma obliged, and swallowed hard. Squeezing her eyes shut for the embarrassment of what was coming next, she set aside her pride.

“I need a favor.” It dropped from her lips, and Emma hated herself for it. Before he could retort with innuendo, she continued. “I want you to get me into this ‘Circle Meeting’. I seem to be barred.”

He laughed, and shook his head, returning to his drink.

“I need to be in there. I belong in there, and that’s the very reason I’m being barred, besides not having a cock -”

“Lucky that.” Hook smirked at her, leaning back with his legs wide. He sat the empty tankard down and waved for another.

“Is there anyone there that will appeal to reason?” Emma looked at him, watching carefully for a reaction as he shrugged noncommittally.

“I don’t know why you care, Swan. It’s bollocks. The damn thing won’t matter in a few months time when someone breaks the treatise and we all go about our ways again.” He leveled a gaze at her, head cocked, the same careful look as her own mirrored back. Emma tried to keep her face impassive. If she, Omar, and David were right, and they’d created this treatise just to send The Wing’s crew to the bottom of the sea, Hook might be her only ally in this. That was if he could be trusted, and could convince anyone to do anything other than run her through. The only thing she knew about him was the same thing she knew about herself; their interests came first.

“I don’t… I don’t want the trouble. We leave well enough alone, except for running into you somehow, and even then I try to avoid you. I’ve been doing a damn good job of it, too.” Emma sat forward, a hand pushing back her hair as she chewed her lip. “Things have escalated recently. Gotten worse. We’ve been barred from Redwater Sanctuary.”

Hook’s eyebrow shot up and the easy smirk he’d been wearing faded. There was a flash of something akin to concern in his eyes, and it made her skin prickle with hatred. Concern was a prelude to pity. Of all the terrible gifts that could be bestowed, Emma wanted pity less than death. She wanted his pity least of all.

“Oh.” He looked at her, and she saw it there in the flash of his eyes, a flicker of his worry, pity and caring about the situation unfolding. She was sure he was concerned only because of how it could hurt him; she’d been over generous lately with letting him scavenge, and she was one of the few pirates he could easily trade with if he needed something. Emma had felt the same when she’d procured the salve for him when he lay burning of fever.

“I want to make sure I’m not a target.” Her eyes drifted to the floorboards, following the patterns there to avoid seeing Hook’s face.

“Swan, I can’t get you into that meeting. You know I can’t, they’ll kill us both,” he whispered lowly. Emma shot a quick glance at him and he was leaning forward, his hand extended to her as if to touch her shoulder. She sat back, pulling away. “If you need help, or information -”

“I don’t.” The ice in her voice as she snapped had him blinking. “I asked you for help with this, and you could not oblige. I wouldn’t risk it again.” She stood, turning away.

“Swan!” She heard him call after her, felt his fingers brush her own as her feet carried her away from him again. She could hear the pity echoing even in his calls.

 The meeting with the Circle was called a fortnight later, in Corona. The bustling country was an easy central port that boasted fair weather and good ale. It was also renowned for its seedy underbelly that the royal guard overlooked as long as no harm came to its citizens. At first, Killian was under the impression that they’d be visiting the Fuzzy Duckling, a well known bar for thugs and vandals of the area. However, after a brawl that left several crews light handed due to a misunderstanding about a ceramic unicorn, pirates had been disavowed and sent to the city.

They had found home in a bar near their boats, amusingly named The Goat Testicles. They’d even constructed a sort of makeshift room for meetings, so thankful for the business. Apparently, selling a beer called Goat’s Piss hadn’t brought locals banging on their doors, regardless of its fragrant citrus flavoring.

He was only half listening to the treatise being drawn up between the captains, knowing full well that they'd break it within days if not hours, when warm hands stroked the innards of his thighs softly. At first, he thought he'd imagined it, but the quick tug on the laces and a gentle scrape of nails down the dark trail to his cock proved it was all too real. He was too surprised to make a noise until a wet hand gripped him with firm strokes, his cock jumping to attention in the stranger's hands, as he let out a small sigh.

He knew who it was before the flash of blonde locks swinging forward gave her away. Ever resourceful, Swan had not only made it into the meeting, but she'd also made sure she got her mention. Hell, she'd make sure, as always, that she'd stay two steps ahead of any threat by hiding in the mouth of the beast.

"And territorial wise, I want the waters near Agrabah. It's quite a ways to trade through the desert from port, you lot cutting our coffers afterwards is nastiness, even for pirates." A younger newcomer with ruddy ginger hair was speaking, twirling a coin in his heavily tattooed hand. The idiot had given away a large weakness to abuse. Walking goods through a barren desert was already risky, but advertising it to this group? He'd be dead within the fortnight, another part of the turnover this table saw. Another crew lost to their captain’s folly.

Swan swirled her tongue and he let out a grunted aye along with the other men, leaning back with his good hand gripping the table. He bucked into her mouth and was rewarded with her teeth scraping gently against him as she ran a finger along the seam of his sack.

Hook hissed lowly. Swan’s bloody fucking mouth could unravel him with ease; just like this, or on his mouth, neck, or body. Sometimes with just words. He wanted to grip her hair, fucking her mouth while she moaned on his cock, begging for him to give her a taste. He wanted to watch her swallow his seed, to let it burn down her throat. He imagined her fingers deep inside her tight quim, riding her hand in poor imitation of the cock she sucked greedily. He wanted to bite her hard enough to leave violet blooms on pale flesh; to leave firm handprints on soft globes, making it hard for her to sit. He was getting close, and the pace she set her strokes at was brutal, his breathing becoming shallow.

Blackbeard's grumble brought him back to the duality of the situation at hand.

"Alright lads, that's all fin' and good - Now what about that bitch out makin' a mockery of us? I don’ mind a lass on the crew if she were of that persuasion of breeches and pulling 'er own whores, but this cunt and her crew-"

“She leaves well enough alone, but Hera and Zeus forbid that you ever try to steal her treasures or go after that crew of hers,” said a paunchy man with too many rings as he stroked his waxed beard and chewed his pipe. El Pantera, a captain from one of the smaller Island Kingdoms.

Another man spoke up, older and covered in pustules. Hook recognized him as Captain Scabbard, a rotted old rat that ran a skeleton crew on a ship that stunk of turned milk. "No woman should be on a ship t'begin with." He spat a dark yellow wad onto the floor. "Tis bad luck, I say; tis only to shit on the Gods."

Emma was distracted now, bobbing in slow strokes and listening intently, keeping Hook on the edge of his pleasure. He could feel himself seeping precum as she lapped at his slit, and the urge to slam her mouth down on his cock to the hilt was growing overwhelming. His toes curled in his boots.

"What do you suppose we do about her then? She can return my fire three fold, fights like a she demon, and sails off to naught be found until she wants to be." Another young captain whom he had dubbed Babyface shrugged. He'd inherited the position after Captain Durham had died under Navy fire a few months back. He was manipulative behind his innocence, yet cunning enough to have avoided or dissipated several mutinies.

Swan swallowed him all the way to his base like she had read his mind, cheeks hollowed, trying to kill him. The table looked at him expectantly as he let out a strangled grunt. He swallowed thickly, and spoke slowly, with purposeful enunciation.

"She's not a threat, surely, for any of you to be so afraid as to suggest we take care of her?"

The table around him gave scoffs of indignation. Swan rewarded him with a tight squeeze of her mouth and swirl of her tongue that had him closing his eyes and carding his hand through his hair. He pinched the bridge of his nose, opened his eyes, and hoped he could explain his behavior away with the excuse of a headache. Emma edged him away from the brink again and he growled lowly. The headache excuse was partially true, it would just be a different head he’d be referring to.

"Aye. I'm sayin' we should put out the word that she's got gold on 'er 'ead - not only at sea, but in taverns and ports as well." Blackbeard held Hook in a steady gaze, the challenge clear behind his eyes. "I'm saying that she deserves to see her crew swing in the wind before joinin' them."

He felt her bristle and her movements came in firm, fast strokes now. Anger pooled in his belly along with the tight coil in his spine that was growing white hot. He could feel that both the meeting and her torture were coming to an end, and he was grateful for it.

"She deserves to be at this table, mate. Fearsome pirates such as yourselves, scared over the woman you claim is not fit for the seas like she's some porcelain princess, when I left her ship many a time limping away lucky to have my hide." With his voice raising, she hummed and he shifted his legs to open himself wider. What looked like angered fidgeting to everyone else was actually small snaps of his hips as he got closer to his peak. A flush rose in his cheeks as he held back moans of pleasure.

"We all know about the many times that you've left her cabin, Captain." Scabbard smirked at him, his voice oily.

He came down her throat with a low and measured grunt, betraying how good it felt to spill himself against her tongue. The next time they saw each other, he would repay her for this, leaving her cabin again. He took a deep breath and let himself smile in relief, or to their eyes, amusement.

"All to keep my coffers full, I assure you. I'd trade with you dogs, but you're all bite, no bark, no treasures to speak of other than your cowardice."

The table erupted, and he adjusted himself back into his trousers. He leaned back in his chair, and shook his head at the unnoticed whooshing sound of her disappearing, the gray smoke of her magic joining the heavy layer already in the room. Blackbeard was the only one who seemed to notice, eyes narrowing. Killian hid the deep unease that creeped into his stomach. 

“You’d behoov’n yer self to show yer elders some respect boy,” Scabbard spat in Hook’s direction.

Another older pirate with ashy blonde hair in matted dreads, Captain Uly from the frozen seas, spoke up. “Here here! Some of us haff bean sailink before even you young man vere vinkle in your Vahdder’s eyes!”

The ruddy ginger laughed like a donkey’s bray. He looked at Scabbard. “When have you ever shown anyone, including your own dear mum, respect you foul git?” He laughed again, reaching for his mead.

Scabbard leaned forward as quick as a snake and slammed his dagger into the ruddy ginger’s extended hand. He shrieked, looking down at the blade now oozing red, as Scabbard gave the handle a twist and pulled it back out, wiping the blade on his dirty coat. “Men get respect. Boys ‘n doxies ‘n slores get none. All women are slores, sommin’ get paid are bit smarter, not by much. That Swan, well. She’s a slore pretendin’ to be a man.” Satisfied after checking the dagger for blood, Scabbard sheathed it and sat. “Dat’d be the worst kind, ‘n my book.”

Blackbeard shouted and slammed his fist on the table, and Killian gritted his teeth to keep from cutting Scabbard in twain. “We’ll deal with her another time.” He scowled at Killian, who raised a cheeky smirk instead. “For now, let’s plan how a raid would go, and what signals we’d use.” The raid planned was pretty simple. Enemies of the Circle would be scouted and after making sure the biggest number of ships could pursue as a fleet, they’d surround the poor ship in a horseshoe shape with all guns firing. Depending on the ship, loot would be divided, but the loss of an enemy would be even greater, the threat erased for all.

Killian could feel the pit settling in his stomach as they discussed battle tactics for a ship of certain size, with so many guns and so many crew members, possibly fortified with magic.

A ship that sounded very much like The Gilded Wing.

 The Gilded Wing had left long before the others left the harbor to go their separate ways, the other ships falling behind the Jolly as he raced to catch up to Swan. He didn’t care about the Circle or its archaic bullshit and drawn territory lines. The only point that stood out was the target on Emma’s back. This repaid the favor he owed, wiping the slate clean.

Emma in her stubbornness met him on the Jolly’s deck as they approached, The Gilded Wing only a hundred meters away.

“I’m here to give you a warning, Swan,” he said lowly, walking to where she’d appeared in her usual cloud of gray.

“This looks like quite the warning.” Emma jutted her chin up, and stepped toward him. “Did they not tell you, or are you really trying to be that oblivious? It doesn’t suit you Hook.”

“Emma, take your ship and run,” he whispered, and she shook her head at him. “Please -”

A few more steps, and she was an arms length away, anger clearly written across her face. She winced slightly, and the air around them heated unnaturally, her hands glowing. He took a step back, eyes wide.

“You know what the worst part of this is, for me?” Swan murmured into the breeze. “You think I’m this stupid, and I was for trusting you, but I’m not otherwise. You meted down a death sentence on us to save yourself Killian, you selfish -”

“I did no such thing! I’m here to give you a bloody warning because they want you dead; the Jolly is faster -”

She flicked her hand, and a half ring of ships appeared around the Jolly, arranged like a horseshoe around The Gilded Wing. The ripple of shock that went across his face and through the crew brought a confused look to her face.

“You didn’t know.”

Killian felt his brain trying to process, trying to understand what was happening in front of him. Blackbeard had mentioned a powder that made ships disappear, charms placed on sails to make them faster, a paltry excuse given when they needled him about hating magic. Here, they sat bobbing in the water as Emma glared, shouts echoing off hulls as the members of The Wing realized they were revealed. They had her ship surrounded, and Killian could hear the voices of men yelling their readiness to destroy Emma’s home, her pride and joy. Killian’s dread rose into his throat.

Noise erupted, fire blazing as smoke began to waft from the gunwales and swing guns, explosions behind her as smoke lit with every blast. Emma stepped away and drew her scimitar, looking at him with no expression, unmoved by the cacophony. A fire lit on the deck of the ship that sat at the end of the far left side of the horseshoe shape, a huge purple plume of smoke rising. Men shouted, the attack sudden and brutal as forms flew through the smoke, slashing. Even from his vantage, Killian could see more ships falling to strange attacks as The Gilded Wing in front of his ship shimmered like a mirage over the water, the heavy balls of iron falling through the glamor.

The right side of the horseshoe of ships let out a shuddering screech like metal grinding together, and then a boom exploded across the water, men in dinghies fleeing from The Gilded Wing’s onslaught, pouring onto The Jolly as the ships around his steamed, burned, bubbled, and sparked with strange substances. Emma had outwitted them all, a clever ruse straight from the devil himself. Distract the enemy, and attack from both sides like a candle burning on both ends. No doubt a portion of her crew ran along each side they had attacked to meet in the middle after picking over any finds.

The Gilded Wing, the true ship, not its imposter, flanked any who tried to retreat as it fired furiously. Killian shook his head trying to take it in, Emma still standing before him with an implacable stare, ash and ember flying behind her -

“Captain!” The shout from Will wrenched him from his immobility, and Emma used the distraction to disappear. Pulling her cutlass and running through the smoke, Emma avoided Killian’s men, setting a brutal pace through those climbing aboard, but he wrenched her back away from them. She raised her blade to him, flying at him and attacking fiercely without any holding back, unseeing rage and vitriol. Killian was off guard when she disarmed him, cutlass clattering across the deck, but she hesitated just a moment; long enough for Killian to knock her sword away to bring the point of his hook up.

“Do it then. I’m ready." Her eyes blazed like the color of the sky during a hurricane, ferociously churning fire in the pinpricks. She held her chin up and let the point of his hook bite her neck. He briefly wondered why she didn't use magic on him, but the adrenaline coursing through him didn't leave much time for thought. His breath came out in rasped pants, and her skin gleamed with sweat where soot had not settled.

He pushed against her neck a little harder, watching a small dribble of red slip down the pale flesh as it felt like the battle around them slowed. He remembered being in this same position, her blade against his throat while Liam yelled his name. Swan had no Liam, no fierce protector in command or paving the way. She had herself, her crew, her wit, and her magic - that always had to be enough.

She closed her eyes, and her face relaxed, for a moment he thought he was bewitched; her face when contented was angelic, ready for a peace her life never brought. He could make no movement. When no pain came, she opened her eyes again. The fury was gone, replaced by a profound sadness that rattled him. His hook, stable in every battle since his hand was taken by an unworthy Naval toad, trembled. She looked up at him with a sad half smile and he felt like they'd been locked like this for hours instead of seconds, maybe minutes at most.

"Do it, Killian. Please. Let it end." It was a pleaded whisper. He thought it was imagined, this entire moment a dream in which he was lost, but she kissed the curved and bloodied metal, closing her eyes again.

The honesty of her words scared him, and placed him in his own private torment. This creature, this woman. He could no more kill her here than he could raise her to the Heavens and call her the sun.

A shot reverberated and the moment was broken, Swan stumbling backwards holding her side. Red bloomed under her leather belts.

Scabbard’s blackened hands held a pistol, smoke still rising as he threw it aside. "You and that accursed whore of yours can have each other ten different ways in Davy Jones' locker, Hook." Drawing another pistol from a stained coat, he cocked it and aimed it at Hook’s chest. Hook roared, charging, and let Scabbard's round burn through the top of his shoulder blade. He dug his hook deep into Scabbard’s neck, enjoying the gurgling of the man's death rattle.

Looking back, Swan was gone, and this battle was clearly marked for the winners. Swan's ship was already flying through the waters, heading to the new worlds of the East as charted, the Circle’s ships well plundered by her split crew, but not completely picked over.

Blackbeard had limped away, Scabbard’s, Pantera’s, Babyface’s (he'd learned the boy's name was Oliver), and two more of the Circle’s ships floated without their captains, without their loot, and without most of their crew. Hook himself had suffered a grazed shoulder, a few serious wounds crew wise, and two hands down, taken by a sliding cannon. The Gilded Wing had made her point very clear - they didn't need the Circle.

The Jolly Roger’s crew took stock of what was left, hauling a massive prize away (not as good as Swan's, no doubt), and with minimal wear on the Jolly's timbers.

The men celebrated in port a few days later, and Hook purchased a bottle of rum for himself, watching their revelry. Pouring a fourth glass, he threw it back before taking the bottle through winding cobbled paths and down to his quarters, listening only to the sounds of waves breaking against his ship.

Laying in his bunk, he let the rum, the echo of her voice, and the superimposed image of green eyes burning into his take him away somewhere. Hopefully, somewhere he could forget the ache in his chest.

“Killian. Please. Let it end.”

 Emma moved through the market, silks flashing by, spices and meat cooking in the air, the sparkle of jewelry and well polished fruits on display. She could feel him following after her, the smirk on his face meeting her around corners as they weaved through the plaza pretending to ignore each other.

She slipped down an alleyway, listened to hear his steady footfalls, and when she could tell he was close, turned down another alley. He spoke steadily.

"Swan, just where are you leading me?"

She didn't answer. Emma liked to keep him on his toes, or on the hook as it were. She picked up the pace, moving to get as far ahead as she could. Here, deep in the city streets where it became a labyrinth of dead ends and multi-leveled corridors, she wouldn’t have to track back far. Ducking into a beaded curtain, she opened an ornately studded door.

The room was low lit with plush pillows, satin throws, candles, and more - everything she'd asked for.

The girl that had been sent stared at her before curtsying, and Emma examined her. She was beautiful, darker skin and braided hair, her own age, painted in gold and wearing a sheer outfit that shimmered in the light. Her eyes were dark, kohled, and lined with more gold.

"I'm Shari," she said with a low rasp of a voice.

"Hush then. He'll be here soon," Emma said in a quiet whisper. "You'll address him as Jones, and me as Captain Swan. I'll give you directions as we go."

The woman nodded. His footfalls grew closer.

Killian called for her softly, and she stepped out into the alley, sun slanting through cloth and wood layered high on the sandstone buildings. His hand rested on the hilt of his cutlass, body tensed, until he took in the way she moved her hips as she walked toward him. He cocked an eyebrow.

“Captain Hook.” She tilted her chin up, smiling. “I do believe I owe you a debt of gratitude for our… amicable split of the Circle’s forfeited assets.”

"You're in a giving mood, love?" His smile was all teeth.

"I'm not your love." She tugged on his sleeve, pulling him towards the doorway, letting him get close enough to almost feel the touch of her lips before backing away further.

Killian grew too impatient at the doorway, grinding himself into her and ghosting his lips across her exposed collarbone. She let out the smallest noise, between a sigh and a gasp, which had his pants feeling more confining by the second. Her mouth met his, and soon they were kissing passionately, his leg between hers, rocking her against his leathers in those sheer fabric pants the locals favored.

Emma pushed against him, deepening the kiss, and forced him backwards into the beautiful room. She pulled away, her body melting into deeply patterned silks that partitioned the room into sections. He ducked under one to be pulled through another, her body flush against his, her top discarded. He groaned at her exposed breasts, filling his palm with one as he began kneading. His hook shredded the waistband of the gauzy bottoms, exposing a short set of silken undergarments.

He ran a finger along the middle of the undergarment, and they both let out noises, hers a whimper and his a low growl of appreciation. She was so wet already. Another shove from her through a draped wall, and he was falling backwards onto plush cushions that smelled of honey and spice, Emma draping herself over him to kiss his breath away again.

Killian flipped her, licking down her clavicle and shredding more of the sheer garment along her waist, nipping where he exposed. He drifted his hand downwards, eager to feel her again, as a glint flashed in her eyes. She scooted back, away from his probing hand. He was reaching for her when she snapped a manacle cuff on his wrist. He snarled, but then she was on top of him, kissing him roughly, tongue practically pushing thought out of his brain. Another hand came from somewhere and snapped a modified manacle on his hook. He blinked as Emma pulled away, and a woman joined her.

“Thank you, Shari. Raise him so he will be standing on the balls of his feet.”

“Yes, Captain Swan.” The woman whom he did not recognize walked to a tapestry on the wall, pulling it aside to reveal a hand crank. Following with his eyes, he realized it was connected to a pulley system that attached to the ceiling above him. He tried to move, but the slack was already tightening on the heavy chain.

He rose up, and Emma smiled softly at him.

“Don’t be mad at me for this, because I asked around a bit. Apparently, when you got a little too deep in the drink, you told Smee some privately held fantasies. A little bit of drink in him, a little bit of a truth potion I was experimenting with… well, he gave me an idea of this gift.” Her smile grew radiant as she waved her hand. He looked to see his clothes were neatly folded off to the side, leaving him bare.

“Swan, let me down, and I swear I won’t-”

Warm fingers covered in a slick substance rubbed against his cock, and he swallowed his words thickly. The dark eyed woman placed thick floor pillows on all sides of his feet wordlessly and soon, Emma was almost the same height as him, smiling at him with her head cocked.

“I must say though, I was hardly surprised to hear your fantasies. They aren’t shameful. I wish you hadn’t felt the need to hide them away in brothels.” She stroked a long line of the slick fluid, what he now realized must be oil, from the base of his cock, over his hip, and to his ass. “Most men, when truly in tune with themselves, like a consensual bit of play in the rear.”

He began to struggle and felt his ears reddening.

“Swan, I don’t know where you heard this bit, but I swear to you. Let me out of these bloody chains, or I’ll run my hook through that pretty neck of yours -”

“What was it you told me? Ah yes. Take a leap of faith.” She kissed a path down his back, hot breath hitting his ass, causing his cock to twitch. “I know when you’re lying, Killian. So tell me truthfully. Do you want this? Would you like me to explore this with you? I know it’s not just ass play. I’d be taking full control, you’d be at my mercy. Tell me what you want.”

Warm, oiled fingers massaged his ass, gently stroking over his entrance. He swallowed thickly.

“Swan, I…” Her fingers pressed harder, and he rutted against the air in front of his cock. “Yes, alright, yes. Why the bloody fuck not, Emma, please, I-” A finger curled inside of him, and he felt his length go rigid.

Emma waved the woman to kneel in front of him. She slowly began to stretch him, adding fingers slowly, thrusting in and out. He rocked back on her hand, head lolling in delight at just how good it felt. Her hands were soft, fingers long and delicate, hitting spots in he hadn’t felt in years. He groaned when she took her hand away.

Emma whispered something he could not discern, and he felt the skin under his thighs twinge, his body reacting. Breath hitched in his lungs as it felt like something coiled up his legs and against his bobbing member. Velvet lined rope or silken scarves, maybe? No, it drew under his skin, stroking what felt like every nerve and then some.

Magic.

He hissed. He could feel Emma’s concentration, magic flowing from her to him, but then the sensation was over. He felt her movements against his oiled ass, and turned to her. She kissed him, softly this time, tenderly even. He heard a sound similar to his brace being taken off.

"Emma, I -" he didn't finish the thought as she pushed into him.

The catch of a hard member or its ilk in him, slowly burning through his body, had every nerve firing with pleasure. He could only let out a moan, Emma’s hand massaging the curve of his ass as she pushed further. He was dead and this was paradise; he was alive and his back was arching into Emma’s warm body.

Fully seated, she licked his ear lobe and started moving in small thrusts.

"Captain Swan, his cock is weeping. May I?"

Emma grunted and thrust with a jerk. He let out a groan of pure euphoria.

"You may rub yourself on him until you feel his begging is real. After that, it’s up to you how you please him, as long as it brings him close to release."

Killian whimpered.

Heat embraced his cock suddenly, and the slide of wet, delicious friction had him babbling words that he hoped were close to begging. He felt Emma’s light touches, her nips against the back of his neck, and the steady grind of her hips against his ass. Coupled with the woman in front of them, rubbing wet, glorious heat against his length and sucking marks onto his collarbone had him achingly aroused, and he tried to buck forward into the woman’s core.

“Captain Swan, he is trying to take control,” the dark eyed woman said, bending to lap at his slit. He threw his head back as Emma harshly snapped into him.

“I’ll tell you how he likes to be sucked, then. It’s too bad he can’t behave.” From behind him, he felt Emma kick his legs open wide.

“Yes, Captain Swan.” He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He needed to be in control, to fuck one of them, and he rattled the chains that held his hand and hook. If he could get the mechanism to click -

“Take him fully into your mouth.”

Heat enveloped his cock, tight, and he felt every thought escape with his gasp of breath. Emma was moving in a different rhythm now, faster, as she gave commands.

“Swirl your tongue, harder on the underside.”

“Make sure to put pressure on the vein, see? Listen to the noise he makes, Shari. Poor thing.”

“Hollow your cheeks and suck.”

He was coming undone at the seams, pressure building at the base of his spine, each command and snap into his ass bringing him closer.

“Emma, please, I’m so close.” He felt his cock throbbing, his hips bucking forward. Emma kissed up his neck, and their mouths met. He could feel his balls drawing up, every sensation like a lightning rod. He was so close, so fucking close. Emma smiled against his lips, and with agonizing realization atop overwhelming pleasure, he realized he hadn’t burst in the kneeling woman’s mouth. His eyes widened, and Emma laughed, nipping at his lips. Her magic, damnable fucking magic, held him on the edge of -

“Moan on his cock.”

He let out a scream, the vibration of the woman’s mouth making his toes curl. He writhed, and tried desperately to get his hook undone from the chain again.

“Swan, you infernal witch! Gods, I need to fuck you, I need to come, let me out of this!” He struggled again and she kissed him tenderly on his shoulder blade, smiling mischievously up at him while keeping up her pace.

“I love when you’re like this you know,” she murmured into his skin. “You so rarely let go of control. Happy to take and plunder, but on your terms. Never allowing someone else the chance. Do you know how frustrating that is?” She licked a long trail up his neck, ending in sucking on his earlobe. He struggled again, his body screaming its needs to him, every hair raised. Emma shifted, and he felt for a moment like he couldn’t breathe.

The heat left his cock, with an audible pop. He felt some of the haze in his head clear, and he felt Emma’s device leave him. He shuddered at the sudden emptiness. He could hear both women whispering, and he took a moment to try to bring his body back to the earth. Taking in a lungful of air, he expelled it quickly when he felt a warm palm smack his ass. Looking back, he saw the dark eyed woman, Shari, her gold painted skin pressing against his back. She smiled serenely.

“I’m going to take over for Captain Swan, Jones.” He felt the press of a device, slightly larger than the first, against him. “Captain Swan says this one is enchanted, so take some breaths, OK?”

Killian felt the heat immediately, the easing push into him almost but not quite like a real cock. His eyes fluttered closed, feeling every inch of the sensation, his need to come back with a vengeance. He could feel his ass tightening, his muscles taut and tense, sparks shooting behind his eyelids. Warm hands cupped his face, and he opened his eyes through the haze of ecstasy.

He looked wrecked, and it brought Emma nothing but delight. His eyes were blown wide, and every thrust Shari made had his toes curling and small keening noises leaving his mouth. All Emma could do was kiss him softly, and slowly sink on top of him, one thigh lazily resting against his side, while she kept the other leg planted for balance on a pile of pillows.

When she started to move against him, she could feel the throbbing pulse with every thrust. He let out harsh breaths sometimes coupled with nonsensical half words, occasionally paired with a moan of her name. Watching him lose the careful articulation and eloquence he used with ease brought a rush of heat to her core. Killian felt her own pleasure beginning to bloom from his erratic movements, frantic grinding shifts of his hips to try and distract from his struggles against the chain.

“Are you ready for your real treat, my sweet Sailor?” Emma whispered against the stubble of his cheek. She ran fingers through his hair, watching his face flutter through the pure delight and slight pain of her magic, letting him rise higher and higher with no ceiling. She let out a moan and her nails clawed at his back when he answered with a buck, lazily grinning. She snapped her fingers.

He felt the woman behind him moan, and a second later clamped his eyes shut as the feeling spread. The damn thing inside him was moving, shaking quickly like the earth settling after thunder. Vibration hit that damn sweet spot in his ass that ached from slow thrusts, now a hot pinprick that had him screaming, desperate to feel release.

 Coupled with Emma riding him, now seeking her own pleasure and undoubtedly feeling whatever sensation she’d given him and the hired woman, he was beyond bliss. Nothing had felt this incredible before, his body nothing but pure feeling. Shari pressed against him, nails digging into his shoulders with a warm gush of wetness against the back of his thighs as she gave in.

Emma pushed herself up, now able to wrap both legs around him with the other woman pulling away. He heard the chain being lowered and his feet hit the floor; his immediate reaction was to thrust up, up into her. His eyes shot open, meeting hers.

“Please, please, Emma, please -” With the grind of their hips and his feet planted, it allowed him to fill her so perfectly. He needed to fill her and her body tightened, pulling him -

“I’m coming, oh fuck, Killian, I love it when you beg. I want to hear you -” Her moan ripped through him, wet and tight ripples that tore him into pieces.

“Let me come, Emma. Please, fucking please, Swan.” Keening, the whine was broken by his groan.

Emma bit down on his collarbone, sending him reeling. Every synapse fired deliriously, and when her body clenched on his again and she went limp against his chest, he felt her magic wane in time with her flutters as finally the grip on him stopped. A single thrust and he was undone.

Killian came with a guttural moan, rapturous pleasure coursing through him, lasting for what felt like minutes as he bathed her walls. As he spent the last bit of himself, he realized it was quite possibly the most intense orgasm of his life. His breath came out in ragged pants, and he was sure if it wasn’t, it still had shaved years off his existence.

“That was…” he whispered, slowly and with effort.

“A reward.” She pulled away from him, and waved her hand. The chains fell away, and he stumbled forward onto his knees. The room was still lined with large floor pillows, which he promptly rolled onto, laying on his back to catch his breath. Before he knew it, sleep overtook him.

A short time later, a warm washcloth against his thighs startled him, and he looked down to see the gold painted woman, Shari, softly cleaning his thighs.

“Swan…?” he mumbled, shocked at how low and hoarse his voice sounded.

“I’m sorry, my good sir. She paid me, and said I was to take care of anything else you needed. I can give you a massage if you like, after cleaning you. I can also offer you pistachio cake and honeyed fruit. Or, we can have another round of the pleasures.”

He stayed quiet as she continued her gentle ministrations, contemplating his next move.

“Would you tell me where she went? Do you know?”

“I don’t, sir. Only that she paid me very well, and left quickly.” Her brown eyes met his and she sighed, dropping the rag in the steaming water. “She told me not to say, but she headed in the direction of the Western port.”

He got up quickly on unsteady legs, tugging clothes on in a blur. “Thank you. Here -” He tossed a small purse of coin at her. “For your trouble.”

 He was gone before she could thank him. She opened the bag and counted the silver and gold coins inside it.

The female captain had been right. Give the man a direction, and he’d pay for her words as well, even if they were silver lies. Shari had no idea where the blonde woman had gone; most likely South from her hasty exit towards the market. Men were such fools when enchanted by beautiful women.

Pity. This one was a fool that was also lost in love with one. Shari took her coin and retired for the evening. She wouldn’t need to work for weeks now, and the female captain had left her enchanted play things. She would be amiss if she didn’t spend her time trying them.

#October 26th 2018 #Captain Swan Big Bang #CSBB #CSBB 2018 #Riptide #Courtorderedcake #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan au #CS FF #CS FF AU #CS AU #CS AU FF

[xjelani-archive-blog]

kurotsunolivia replied to your post “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BITCH I JUST QUIT MY JOB AND I JUS DID IT IN THE...”

((GURL TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED))

GOD ITS SUCH A LONG STORY?? like i’ve had that job for 7 months and i’ve never publicly complained about it to anyone aside my one best friend (bless her heart) and a coupla irl friends and my mom, so THEY mostly know the full story and all the shit i’ve had to put up with. but imma try to summarize it as much as i can cuZ BOI

basically i’ve been working this one cashier job at a boujee ass grocery story for the past 7 months. it was complete perfectionist over the top bullshit, but imma not talk too much smack cuz it did teach me some things as in..... 1, imma very patient person godDAMn. and 2, i like to prove people wrong??? like if someone tells me i’m not doing something the Correct Way(tm), i’ll try so hard until i get it RIGHT cuz i like to do things?? perfect?? but basically, anyway, there was this one supervisor that’s been pickin on me for the last coupla months (more severely these past coupla weeks), and ERRYBODY ASS WAS SCARED OF HER?? but i’m the type of person who??? doesn’t get intimidated easily?? shit boy, you shit and bleed and go to sleep like i do and the next person, what makes you so scary u feel me? like i can understand respecting another person’s position. but i genuinely just can’t fear another person cuz they “come off as intimidating” pbtbtb.

anyway tho??? she doesn’t like me BECAUSE of that. because i’ve called her out a few times in a professional manner and she’s been kinda abusing her power as a supervisor towards me and imma not get into the details of it, cuz that’s gonna make shit even LONGER. but basically, she’s been kinda “punishing” me the last coupla weeks because of this one issue we’ve had where she accused me of coming late several times and i asked her to pull up the times i’ve punched in (cuz bitch. it’d show the record and like dam, the only time ive came in late was ONCE and i called in prior?? and she wrote a whole report on my ass over it. SHE WROTE A REPORT ON ME BECAUSE I SCANNED 13 ITEMS PER MINUTE INSTEAD OF SCANNING 15. IT’S REALLY THAT TYPA ESTABLISHMENT, IM SO FUCKIN DEADASS), which SHIT BOY I PERSONALLY DON’T CARE IF SHE’S TAKEN TO “PUNISHING” ME AND MAKING ME DO SHIT THAT AINT IN MY JOB DESCRIPTION. I KNOW SHE DID MOSTA THAT SHIT CUZ SHE PETTY AND SHE MAD I TALK TO HER LIKE AN ADULT AND NOT LIKE A KID AND I AINT EVER DISRESPECTFUL BUT SHE KNOWS I KNOW SHE AINT SHIT. and i think her dislike towards me has just been building up so high to the point that TODAY she finally said something?? bottom line, she said something i felt was unprofessional, personal, and disrespectful towards me. i confronted her about it on the spot, she LIED to my face about it (even though i heard her open her mouth and say it towards me), and i straight up told her i don’t appreciate how i’ve been treated in this workplace thus far, i quit. you guys can figure out how to cover the rest of my shift. i’m ready to cash out now

also we got HER manager involved, and i got her ass in trouble with him. and he apologized to me (FUCKIN FINALLY) and we parted ways and she’s stuck covering the rest of my shift and now she gotta figure out who’s gonna cover my shift tomorrow and the next week h a h a. die mad bitch

#kurotsunolivia #ooc; #dude i wasnt even disrespectful about nothing too like dam i took out all my bigass vocabulary cuz u kno #white ppl love it when u talk to them like an encyclopedia fgjkhgjkdkghkj #and i know if i just get angry with them and act crazy. they're not going to take me seriously #BUT HA B I TCH IM OUT THAT SHIT #AND IM GETTING MY FUTURE SECURED TOO #AND THIS BITCH ASS IN TROUBLE #AND SHE COVERING MY SHIFT #AND IM FUCKING GONE #dude ive had to deal with so much shit at that place fgjhgjkhg #but im half not mad cuz its finally what pushed me to step outta retail and go for something that'll pay me better #so ive been workin the past 2 months to get my license and just last week ive passed my exam and in two days #im finna get my card AND WE OUT THIS B I T CH #ALSO IM GETTIN PAID AND IM FINNA GO TO THE CLUB THIS WEEKEND TOO HUUUUUUUUUUU BOY GOODBYE

[personalcoachingcenter]

Research Paper: The Impact of Coaching on Employee Retention

New Post has been published on https://personalcoachingcenter.com/research-paper-the-impact-of-coaching-on-employee-retention/

Research Paper: The Impact of Coaching on Employee Retention

Research Paper By Michelle Cunningham (Career & Leadership Coach, UNITED STATES)

Introduction

In today’s economy, cost-cutting strategies are on everyone’s mind.  For companies both large and small, finding a way to control costs is a key to becoming and remaining successful.  One cost that may easily get overlooked is the cost of recruiting new employees.

By some estimates, it can cost an employer double an employee’s salary to replace them when they quit. That cost varies across different industries, but for some employers, it can be even higher.[i]

One clear way to reduce the cost of recruitment is to focus on employee retention.

As an internal coach for my company, one of the things I must consistently consider is the impact that coaching has on my company.  To show a return on the investment that my company provides in supporting my coach education and certification, I must be able to articulate the value that coaching brings.  I believe that one-way coaching can have an impact on a company’s bottom line is by increasing the retention of its employees.

As I coach, I help to support my company’s employee retention efforts by supporting several strategies that can boost employee retention.  These strategies include:

Cultivating leadership

Promoting engagement

Supporting development

In this research paper, I will explore each of these three strategies, and how establishing a successful coaching program for employees can have a positive impact in these areas.

Cultivating Leadership

To cultivate leadership within a company, let’s first explore the characteristics of effective leaders.  This list of effective leadership characteristics provided by Chris Halvorson in his article “7 Great Employee Retention Strategies” sets the groundwork for understanding key leadership behaviors.

The clear direction towards the future. Good leaders let employees know where the company is headed. Bosses don’t share information and leave employees wondering if there’s good or bad coming down the pipe and if they should be concerned.

Able to handle challenges. Leaders handle the many challenges that come their way instead of intentionally or unintentionally offloading the stress onto the employees.

Genuine desire to offer high quality. For both customers and employees, good leaders offer the best products, services, and experience possible. Bosses are almost behind the curve, scrambling to meet the minimums.

A belief in the importance of people. Good leaders consider employees their most important asset. Bosses are focused on numbers.

Inspires confidence. Good leaders make employees feel confident about their ability to lead them to a good place. Bosses tend to inspire passive-aggressive frustration as employees question the decisions that have been made that have affected them negatively.[ii]

Identifying which of these key leadership characteristics are strengths, and which are opportunities, for the leader in the first step.  By establishing a coaching relationship, current and future leaders can take the time to focus on themselves and the key leadership attributes such as those identified in Halvorson’s article, they need to be successful as a leader.

For example, if an aspiring leader has difficulty when faced with challenging situations, a coach may invite him/her to explore the various perspectives of a difficult situation.  Leveraging the framework of Emotional Intelligence, the coach can support the aspiring leader in developing an action plan to be able to more effectively manage the difficult situation.

While the benefits of establishing a coaching relationship are numerous, an article on insala.com titled “Why is a leadership coaching important?  Th 5 key benefits” from February 15, 2019, offers up the following:

1. Empowerment

Coaching empowers leaders to do exceptional work. Coaches establish an advantageous relationship that uncovers hidden strengths and weaknesses within the leader. Goals will be created to enable leaders to pinpoint their weaknesses and track their progress. Reflective sessions with a coach empower a leader to fully recognize their improvements and appreciate the work they have done to meet those goals.

2. New Insight

Leaders gain a new perspective on everyday responsibilities from their coach. The coach pushes them to step back and reflect when a leader is having a bad day or week, often uncovering a deeper problem. Together, they discover new insights into the leader’s reaction by analyzing the problem and creating a plan for similar situations in the future.

3. Free Thinking

Coaching reduces narrow-minded thinking in leaders. Coaches encourage the leader to open their thought patterns and consider other points of view by asking questions. This benefits the leader by provoking free thoughts and encouraging flexible leadership. The Center for Management and Organization Effectiveness calls flexible leadership a “business necessity” as it allows for quick, creative, and precise decision making under pressure.

4. Enhanced Performance

Targeting coaching to a leader’s problem area makes a huge difference in attitude and abilities. Coaching allows the leader to learn and implement new leadership techniques tailored to the leader’s weaknesses. Techniques include the leader avoiding the terms “but,” “no,” or “however” as they accidentally discourage ideas or answering questions with questions as they tend to supply all the ideas for their team. Individuals that were difficult to reach before will respond better to their leader’s new approaches.

5. Improved Communication

Coaching enables leaders to realize that their communication isn’t always as clear as they think. Coaches will highlight areas of communication that need improvement and practice those areas with the leader.

Coaches can also teach leaders how to communicate with individuals of different personality types, cultures, or ages using their past experiences as examples. Good communication skills allow people to connect. A coach who can guide an individual to communicate effectively will improve their credibility and overall leadership abilities.[iii]

While the benefits are numerous, by supporting the cultivation of leaders and leadership skills through coaching, companies can not only help their leaders to be successful in their roles but also make positive strides toward increasing employee retention.

Promoting Engagement

The second strategy for increasing employee retention that I will explore is promoting employee engagement within a company.  A Gallup study shows that disengaged employees are more likely to leave their company.  This article “Are Your Star Employees Slipping Away” by Jim Harter and Amy Atkins, both from Gallup, reiterates this finding.

The more disconnected employees feel, the greater their readiness to job hop becomes. While 37% of engaged employees are looking for jobs or watching for opportunities, higher numbers of employees who are not engaged or actively disengaged are doing the same (56% and 73%, respectively).

Workers want to feel connected to their jobs, managers, and companies. If those ties are not there, they have more incentive to quit, leaving their organizations to start the costly recruitment, hiring, and onboarding dance all over again. This could also cost companies some of their best people.

Improving engagement has to start with organizations closely examining how they attract, retain, and engage employees. They must give employees a reason to choose them, stay with them, and perform at their best.[iv]

By offering coaching opportunities to their employees, companies can improve employee engagement in many ways.  Employees who feel connected to their work are more engaged in hat work.  One way to help employees feel connected to their work is through goal setting.  As suggested in this article by insala.com from August 28, 2019, coaching can play a role in increasing employee engagement through goal setting:

Goals are not limited to the overall organization, though. Individuals are also highly goal-motivated. Coaching is a great way to empower your employees to set great goals and actually achieve them. This increases employee engagement because employees feel involved.[v]

A second factor that promotes employee engagement is a sense of trust and accountability.  The above-mentioned article from insala.com also suggests that coaching can support employees to feel empowered and to take responsibility, both of which boost engagement:

Through coaching, an organization can improve employee engagement by preventing accountability obstacles such as “learned helplessness”. Coaching employees empowers them to take responsibility for their learning and development.[vi]

By promoting engagement through coaching employees on the aspects of goal setting, building accountability and trust, and any other engagement factors, they will experience the many benefits of an engaged workforce.  As Gallup’s research suggests, engaged employees are more likely to stick around, thus increasing employee retention.

Supporting Development

Finally, the third retention strategy that I will explore is for companies to support the development efforts of their employees.  According to a blog post on Culture titled “Focusing on learning and development to increase retention” by Amp by Alexis Croswell, Senior Content Marketing Manager, retention is one of the advantages to companies who support employee development.

People want to be employed by organizations that will increase their job prospects down the line. It’s easy to see why: individuals whose value in the workforce is bolstered by their organization can also expect greater personal chances for growth and financial success.

For these reasons, organizations that proudly tout their ability to boost people’s future employability reap recruitment benefits. But there’s more to it: Culture Amp data shows that 54% of immediate retention is associated with the employee’s belief that their company contributes to their development.[vii]

Having a coach and participating in a long-term coaching relationship is one significant way to support an employee’s personal and professional development.  As employee development goals are sometimes personalized and unique, a more personalized solution is often more fitting for development efforts.  As suggested in the “Benefits of Coaching” by the Institute of Coaching, coaching can be a viable solution:

Coaching provides an invaluable space for personal development. For example, managers are frequently presented with employees struggling with low confidence. The traditional approach would be to send them to an assertiveness course and hope this addresses the issue. In the short-term, the employee learns new strategies for communicating which may improve confidence. Unfortunately, in isolation, these courses rarely produce a sustained increase in confidence. Although external behavior may change; it needs to be supported by changes in their internal thought processes. This is often where coaching is most effective.

Additionally, the Society for Human Resources Management (SHRM)reinforces the individualized nature of coaching in this definition provided in an article titled “Coaching in a Business Environment”:

The hallmarks of coaching are that it is personalized and customized and that it is usually done one-on-one and over a period of time, and with a specific business objective in mind. Coaching is similar to, but distinct from, mentoring. The latter is a career development method whereby less experienced employees are matched with more experienced colleagues for guidance either through formal or informal programs. Coaching is frequently used to assist individuals as they prepare for or move into new assignments, improve work habits, adapt to a changing environment, or overcome specific obstacles.[viii]

By supporting development through coaching programs, companies show employees that they are investing in their future and providing them with growth opportunities.  This investment into the personal and professional development of employees will result in increased employee retention.

Conclusion

As this research shows, there are many elements to a successful retention strategy that companies may employ.  Throughout this research paper, I explored three such strategies – Cultivating Leadership, Promoting Engagement, and Supporting Development – and have come to this conclusion:

Leadership + Engagement + Development = Retention

The secret ingredient in this recipe is Coaching.

Whether a company chooses to employ internal coaches, leverage the services offered by external coaching vendors, or invest in developing their managers and leaders into exceptional coaches; the investment into coaching their employees will boost multiple aspects of their retention strategy.  If done right, companies will reap the return on this investment through cost savings in their recruiting, hiring, and onboarding efforts. The benefits of supporting a coaching culture don’t stop there.  However, that is a discussion for another research paper!

References:

[i]Halvorson, C – 7 Great Employee Retention Strategies

[ii]Halvorson, C – 7 Great Employee Retention Strategies

[iii]Insala.com – Why is Leadership Coaching Important?

[iv] Harter, J, and Adkins, A – Are Your Star Employees Slipping Away

[v]Insala.com – Increasing Employee Engagement Through Coaching

[vi]Insala.com – Increasing Employee Engagement Through Coaching

[vii]Croswell, A – Focus on learning and development to increase retention

[viii] SHRM – Coaching in a Business Environment

Original source:

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EPF Withdrawal For Purchasing A Site Or Flat

There are various demands from our conscience or even loved ones. We make big deals in our whole lifetime. The purchase of a site or flat is one of such a huge investment for which we need proper investigation. It requires huge capital as well. We can go for loans from banks or borrow from our acquaintance. To make the process easier, EPFO has proposed the withdrawal for the purchase of the site or flat. In this article, we’ll look forward to how you can easily go for the EPF withdrawal for purchasing a site or flat.

Why Should You Go For EPF Withdrawal For Purchasing A Site Or Flat? 

Employee’s Provident Fund(EPF) is a part of your basic wage that gets deducted each month to promote your retirement saving habits. The amount contributed is based on a fixed rate. Employees earn interest on their EPF balance.

One can withdraw from EPF account balance, subject to certain conditions and within certain limits. 75% of the EPF balance can get withdrawn if a person remains unemployed for one month. Complete 100% of EPF balance withdrawal gets allowed if you remain jobless for more than 2 months. Partial withdrawal is also allowed under Employee’s Provident Fund scheme,1952. Under it, we’ve EPF withdrawal for purchasing of a site or plot.

The EPF Scheme is a part of the government agenda of housing for all. The Pradhan Mantri Awas Yojna also provides up to 2.2 lakh rupees interest subsidy. Yet, it’s provided to the people with annual income less than a specified amount. Added to that, they must not own any house in the name of any family member anywhere in the country.

Let’s know more about why should you go for EPF withdrawal for purchasing a site or plot-

Features Under EPF Withdrawal For Purchasing A Site Or Flat

i. The withdrawal process you filed for is delivered to you may or may not be in direct form. It may get delivered to the government agency or your bank account or your flat society head.

ii. In case you cancel the deal of buying the property, the amount you withdrew, get refunded to your EPF account. This procedure gets completed within about 15 days.

iii. In case you got the fund from ‘total expenditure of the construction,’ there’s another rule for it. You’ve to return it to your account within a max of 30 days.

iv. Under this cause, you can get either in one or more than one installment.

v. You won’t get permitted for the withdrawal procedure if the property is in the name of anyone else. That is, it’s mandatory for you or your wife or both to be the legal owner of the property. Otherwise, you would get expelled from the request of withdrawal made.

Eligibility Criteria Of The EPF Withdrawal

According to the latest norms of the PF withdrawal, you must meet the following criteria-

a. You must be an active member of the EPFO for a min of five years.

b. The total amount in your PF account(or together with your wife) must be a minimum of Rs. 20,000.

c. You can avail of this opportunity only once. It means you can go for the EPF withdrawal for the purchase of a plot or flat once in your lifetime.

Rules And Regulations Of EPF Withdrawal For Purchasing A Site Or Flat

There are some protocols that you must abide by to withdraw your EPF money for purchasing of a plot or site-

A. In Case Of Purchase Of  Plot-

i. You must have rendered at least 3 service years to your company or organization.

ii. Your share must be more than 1000 rupees as a contribution to your fund.

iii. The limit of money that can get withdrawn is 90% of your total amount in your PF account.

iv. Withdrawal is not allowed if the property is to get purchased jointly with anyone, except the spouse. In this case, both, i.e., you and your wife must be an active subscriber of EPFO.

v. The investigation and survey regarding the plot must get over within a max of 6 months.

vi. Withdrawal can be made in one or more installments.

B. In Case Of Construction Or Purchase Of House/Flat-

i. You must bear at least three years of subscription in EPFO.

ii. Your share must be more than 1000 rupees as a contribution to your fund.

iii. The limit of money that can be withdrawn is 90% of your total amount in your PF account.

iv. Withdrawal is not allowed if the construction of the house is to be on-site owned jointly with anyone, except your wife. In this case, both must be a subscriber of EPFO.

v. Withdrawal can be made in one or more installments.

vi. In case you’re withdrawing for the building of your house, you must begin it within a max of 6 months of withdrawal of the first installment. Then, you must get it completed within 12 months of withdrawal of the final installment.

vii. You have to be a member of the co-operative or housing society. Apart from that, this society must bear at least 10 members.

viii. You can also make monthly premiums for your PF balance against any outstanding loan. It can be in your name or your spouse. However, to name it in your wife’s name, it’s required for her to be an EPFO member as well.

ix. The contributions made to EPFA over the past 3 months are considered by banks. Bank uses it to calculate EMI through your EPFA.

Documents Required For EPF Withdrawal

The form for this cause is Form-31. Thus, first, you need to fill the form and submit it. You can do it either online or offline. The online mode is relatively easier, contains less paperwork, and requires much lesser time than the offline method. In the online mode, you can get your amounts transferred within a max of 7 days. On the other hand, the offline procedure takes a longer duration.

With all that, you’ve to tie-up a declaration form.

Amount You Can Avail From EPF Withdrawal

Since the article involves the purchase of a site or a flat, it has two sub-divisions. So, the amount you can avail of depends on which division you’re in.

1. If you’re purchasing a site for building your house, you’ll get an amount equal to-

Your 2- year salary, including the Dearness Allowed. For example, you earn Rs. 50,000 per month. Counting up to a total of it in 24 months yields an amount of Rs. 12 lakh.

2. If you’re withdrawing for the construction of your house, you’ll get an amount equal to-

Your 3-year salary added up with the DA. For example, you earn Rs. 60,000 per month. Counting up to a total of it in 36 months yields an amount of Rs. 21,60,000.

In this criteria, you’ll get an amount that is less than the rest. These get judged from several other bases as well. These are mentioned below-

Total expenditure of the construction. For this, you must make a rough calculation of the total processes and the cost under each. This can either yield up an amount greater than the required or less.

You and your manager’s share to your EPF fund with the accrued interest to it.

Thus, the three options get into the EPFO officer’s consideration. Finally, you get an amount that counts to be the least.

The mode of remittance may be in the form of-

Physical cash

Cheque

Postal order

Directly to your bank account

Frequently Asked Questions

1. How can I withdraw my PF for buying a flat without my employer’s assistance?

Earlier, dealing with your employer for these things was a matter of hesitation for a few employees. Especially if your employer is a grumpy one, that posed a great problem to your procedure. They would make excuses or make you lick their shoes to get your work done. Due to this, the EPFO has clarified that you need not please your grumpy employer all the time. There can be other methods that can add to your ease. Thus, as per the latest improvisation, you can carry out the procedure without the aid of your boss. Let’s see how-

i. Visit your UAN portal by logging in with your requisite ID and password. Check if your Aadhar card is updated. If not, then update it. ii. Recheck it with the information on your employer’s list. Then tie-up your Aadhar number with your UAN portal. iii. There you’ll find an online EPF withdrawal handout. Provide your relevant details to it. iv. Finally provide the details in the hands of the EPFO officer of your area. After a few days, you can get the amount.

2. Can I withdraw PF for buying land?

Yes, certainly you can go for an EPF withdrawal for buying a plot or a site. However, to avail of it, you must satisfy certain regulations. You must have rendered at least 5 years of your service to your organization. The amount you wish to withdraw must be either less or the exact amount of the plot. Yet, if the amount in your account is less than the amount required. You’ll get the lesser amount.

For instance, if the land costs Rs. 15 lakh and the amount you’ve in your bank is Rs. 12 lakh. You’ll get the lesser amount, i.e., Rs. 12 lakh.

3. Is employer approval required for PF withdrawal? 

As I’ve already mentioned above, it may or may not be a requisite factor in your withdrawal process. Some good employers go in good terms with their employees. However, for the grumpy employers, the improvisation was enforced. That is, you need not impress them all the time to get your work done. There are other ways out there to serve you.

Thus, if your employer agrees to get your work done in a short period, go for him. Otherwise, politely look for the other way out, as mentioned above.

4. How many days it will take to withdraw EPF online?

The online procedure involves no paperwork, and only the laptop or computer clicks. Okay, you can take a few print outs even. Yet, the tediousness in the offline method is much more than online. So, in the online procedure, your work can get done within a max of about 2-3 days. In the worst case, it takes a week.

At the other hand, in the offline method, it takes about 15-20 days. So, if you still didn’t get your required amount even after a week or so, file a complaint. You can get a talk with the assigned EPFO officer regarding the delay caused.

5. Can EPF be drawn anytime?

Yes, you’re free to withdraw EPF anytime. However, just like everything else, there lie certain regulations to it as well. You must satisfy certain specific terms and conditions to avail of it. The most important regulation is the retirement period or age. The minimum age that you’re now must be at least 54 or more. Apart from that, you must have served for about 10 years or more in the same organization.

In the other cases, you’ve to take permission from the EPFO officer whether you’ll be able to withdraw or not.

6. Can I take a loan against PF?

As I’ve already said, when all the gates are closed, EPF is the only gate that opens. Thus, in this, the loan also profound. That is, you can avail of the loan facilities from your EPF account. However, there lies certain terms and conditions for it. You can file for an EPF loan only for constructing or buying a house.

Since the interest rate varies with time, it can change after a few months. However, in the present scenario, it’s stuck at 8.5%. Although you’re free to withdraw in the times of need. Yet, you’re advised not to go for EPF in the first hand itself. Since it deals with your old age financial aids, you must preserve a sound lumpsum for that.

Bottom Line

Now that you’ve gone through this article, you must know how to deal with things better. I hope I could enlighten your thoughts with my words on EPF withdrawal for purchasing a site or flat. Cheers!

  source http://invested.in/epf-withdrawal-for-purchasing-site-or-flat/