#AND he's got one of his sons with him also. Who is also now in danger

[wonderjanga]

Totally Me

When Billy first joined the league, he made sure to not tell anyone about his identity. This went on for nearly five years until he eventually started feeling bad for the others. They always look so sad. Not that blames them. He knows their names, where they live, their jobs, he knows almost everything about them, yet they know nothing about Marvel. So, Billy decided to tell them some things about himself, only it’s not himself. He told them about his dad, or at least what he remembers. He can’t exactly tell them he’s a twelve year old radio show host who lives in an apartment with his sister and his friend. Can he?

Supes: *talking about Jon*

Hermes: “Alright, Batson. You can do this!” *hyping him up like a sports coach*

Marvel: “He sounds awesome. The way you talk about him reminds me of Billy.”

Supes: “Billy? Who’s that?”

Marvel: *smiles* “My son.”

Supes: *jaw drops*

Clark was so happy his friend finally opened up with something about his personal life. He was smiling the entire day. This information eventually got around to the others so they tried to see if they could find out more too.

GA: “So, Cap, are you finally gonna come one of my mixers?” (ref to a fanfic I can’t remember the name of) *bros digging for information to see if cap is in a relationship*

Achilles: “Come on, Billy, let’s go! You can do this!”

Marvel: “No, I have a wife.”

GA: “A wife? What do you mean you have a wife? I expected a girlfriend not a wife?”

Marvel: *slightly nervous because he thinks Green Arrow might not believe him* “Yeah, well, I have a wife, okay?”

GA: “How long have you guys been married?”

Marvel: “Uh…” *doesn’t even know* “Like since 19-”

GA: “19??”

Marvel: “Yeah, 1920 or 30 something.” *is pretty sure that’s correct*

GA: “You’ve been married to your wife for almost 100 years…?”

Marvel: “Uh… yeah. Now that I think about it, yeah.”

By the way, anything Billy tells these guys, goes straight into the rumor mill. Once he divulges a little piece of information it’ll take like an hour, and then everyone knows.

Bruce even got in on the action by grabbing a form and walking up to Marvel:

Batman: “Captain, on your registration papers you left your occupation blank. Could you fill it out?”

Marvel: “Ah, sure!” *fills it out*

Batman: “Thank you.” *walks away and rounds a corner, only to be met with Clark*

Supes: “So, what’s his job?” *is hoping that Marvel is a reporter because he and Marvel have yapped about reporting multiple times*

Batman: *looks at the form* “He’s an archaeologist.”

Supes: “Archaeologist?” *sounds a little dumbfounded* “Huh. That seems so Marvel-like, yet so un-Marvel-like at the same time.”

Also, Billy does actually like archaeology. It’s one of bro’s special interests. In fact, to see if Marvel was telling the truth, Bruce asked a little bit about archaeology and was met with an hour long rant about how amazing it was.

[theonottsbxtch]

99 PROBLEMS | MV1

an: this is literally a crack fic, i had the idea when i was listening to 99 problems by jay-z and i was talking to @iamred-iamyellow please enjoy

summary: max never expected to one day have a 17 year old son. he didn't know he was a father. but now he's got to try and figure out how this nerd is his son. and also teach him how to live a little.

wc: 3.3k

Max never thought he’d be a single dad to a teenage boy, but shit happens.

One minute, he was in Monaco celebrating another podium win, champagne-soaked and grinning for the cameras. The next, there was a seventeen-year-old with his eyes and an attitude to match standing on his doorstep with a duffel bag. His name was Noah—“not ‘Dad,’ just Max”—and he wasn’t here to bond. No, Noah was here because apparently the universe thought karma would be funnier this way.

Max was on the balcony of his Monaco apartment replying to a few emails, the city’s lights flickering like a postcard behind him. He could hear Noah inside, rifling through the fridge, muttering complaints about the lack of “real food.”

“Hey, don’t knock the caviar!” Max called over his shoulder. ��It’s got protein!”

“Caviar’s not dinner!” Noah fired back, slamming the fridge door.

Max smirked, chuckling a bit. The kid had a point. The life of a Formula One champion didn’t exactly prepare him for raising a teenager. Most days, it was all jet-setting, high-end sponsorships, and a new girl on his arm by sundown. It was messy, but it was his kind of messy. Now? Now, he had to figure out how to squeeze fatherhood in between the chaos.

“You seriously live like this?” Noah asked, stepping onto the balcony, holding up one of Max’s custom helmets. His tone wasn’t admiration—it was judgement.

“Like what?��� Max said, not looking up from his phone.

“You know, like...this. Cars, women, parties. I mean, isn’t it exhausting?”

Max chuckled low, pocketing his phone. “Don’t have time to be tired.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “Right. So, uh...where do I fit in this circus?”

Max turned, his smirk fading just enough to let a flicker of honesty show. “Haven’t figured that out yet. But we’ll make it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Max glanced back at the city below. “Now, go grab a drink or something. Just...not the champagne.”

And that’s how it started: the driver, his kid, and a life moving faster than either of them could control.

Max hadn’t had a conventional childhood and he could tell this kid did, well as conventional as it was to be dropped off at your dad who you’ve never met’s house a few weeks before your 18th birthday.

He thought that maybe while he was here he could teach him a few things, take him to a few races or something. 

Max didn’t really know what to do.

The private gym was tucked into the corner of Max’s penthouse, all sleek machines and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. It was rarely used. Most of Max’s training happened at the Headquarters. or with his team, but Noah had been dragging his feet around the apartment all week, so Max figured a little sweat might do them both some good.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, tossing a pair of dumbbells onto the mat. “Let’s see if you’ve got anything in the tank. Ever lifted before?”

“Sure,” Noah replied, unimpressed. He sat down on the bench press, giving the machine a once-over like he was deciding whether or not to trust it.

Max crossed his arms, watching as Noah pushed through a few hesitant reps. “Not bad. But if that’s your warm-up, we’re in trouble.”

Noah glared, setting the weights down with a clink. “Not all of us need muscles for a living.”

Max laughed. “Touché. So, what do you do for fun then?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, fun. You know, like hobbies, friends, maybe a girlfriend?”

Noah shrugged, grabbing a water bottle. “Not much. I play some video games, read, I guess. Nothing crazy.”

“Read?” Max frowned. “What, no parties? No sneaking out? You don’t go out?”

“Go out where?” Noah’s voice had that dry teenage edge to it. “I’m seventeen. I lived in America my whole life. You can’t even get into a bar without a fake ID there.”

Max froze mid-stretch, eyebrows shooting up. “Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me you’ve never had a drink?”

Noah gave him a look like he’d just asked if the sky was blue. “No?”

Max stared at him, dumbfounded. “God. If only you knew what I was doing at your age when my dad had his back turned.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Oh, let me guess. Clubbing in Paris. Drinking champagne with supermodels. Living the dream?”

“Belgium, but close,” Max said, leaning against the bench press. “Keg parties in the back of some guy’s trailer in Hasselt. Terrible beer, worse decisions, and my trainer yelling at me the next morning. Still, though. I can’t believe you’re seventeen and haven’t even had a sip.”

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noah muttered.

“Not a big deal?” Max barked out a laugh. “Mate, by seventeen, I’d already figured out my go-to drink order. Vodka tonic. Not classy, but it got the job done.” He leaned in, his grin borderline mischievous. “We’ve got some work to do.”

Noah held up his hands, shaking his head. “Oh no. You’re not turning this into some wild ‘how to live’ project.”

Max raised his eyebrows, mock-innocent. “Hey, I’m just saying. Gotta live a little.”

“Maybe I don’t want to end up like you,” Noah shot back.

Max laughed again, but this time it came quieter, almost thoughtful. “Trust me, buddy. Nobody ends up like me. Now, come on. Two more sets, and then I’ll show you how to make a proper protein shake. Don’t worry—I won’t spike it.”

Noah snorted, shaking his head as he got back to work. It was just another morning, another disagreement, but Max couldn’t help feeling like they were inching closer to something real. Something like family.

By the end of the week, Noah was starting to think his dad was running some kind of unofficial competition.

On Monday, it was Marie. She was Monegasque, blonde, and talked like she was auditioning for a perfume ad. “Bonjour, mon cher,” she’d purred at Noah, ruffling his hair like he was ten. Max had barely noticed her leave, too busy scrolling his phone for his next big sponsorship deal.

Tuesday brought Yasmin, a Brazilian model who walked around the apartment in Max’s oversized shirt, pretending not to notice Noah glaring at her from the couch. She’d tried to make conversation, something about school and books, but Noah had just shrugged until she gave up.

By Wednesday, it was Clara, who had an annoying laugh and kept calling Max “babe” like they’d been married for years.

Thursday was a whirlwind—two girls, both of whom Max forgot to introduce. One of them waved awkwardly at Noah as they left, heels clicking on the tile floor.

By Friday, Noah wasn’t even fazed. He sat at the kitchen counter, eating cereal while Max brewed coffee, shirtless and looking entirely too smug for a guy running on five hours of sleep.

“How?” Noah finally said, his spoon clinking against the bowl.

Max glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “How what?”

“You know.” Noah waved vaguely toward the hallway where yet another pair of heels had disappeared moments ago. “Them. How do you...?”

Max chuckled, shaking his head as he poured his coffee. “Not that complicated.” He took a sip, leaning against the counter like he was about to deliver some ancient wisdom. “They like fast cars and big dreams. I’ve got both.”

Noah squinted at him. “Yeah, but don’t they know what they’re getting into? Like...you’re not exactly giving ‘dad of the year’ vibes.”

Max laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. “Oh, they know. Trust me, they all think they’re the one who’s gonna ‘change me.’” He set his mug down, smirking. “Spoiler alert: they’re not.”

Noah frowned, stirring his cereal. “Doesn’t it get old?”

“What?”

“The whole thing. Girls coming and going. Don’t you ever want...I don’t know, something normal?”

Max tilted his head, studying him for a second. “Normal’s overrated. Besides, why are you so interested? You got someone back in the States?”

Noah snorted. “No. Not unless you count my English teacher who used to give me extra credit just to stop talking in class.”

Max grinned, pushing off the counter. “Smart kid. Learn from me, though—don’t waste your charm on teachers. Save it for someone who can actually keep up.”

Noah rolled his eyes, standing up to put his bowl in the sink. “You’re insane.”

“And yet,” Max said, raising his coffee in a mock toast, “I’m still your dad. Crazy how that works.”

Noah shook his head, walking out of the kitchen. But as he headed toward his room, he caught himself smirking. Max was a mess—there was no denying that. But, annoyingly, there was something kind of fascinating about watching him pull it off.

He had to give him some respect. Three time world champion but he lived his life like an unbothered bachelor that didn’t have a multi-million contract under his belt.

Two days later, Max was standing in front of his wardrobe, trying to decide between a black shirt and a white graphic tee. He ended up tossing the black top onto the bed, shrugging into the white tee. His phone buzzed on the nightstand—a message from the group chat reminding him that their table was already reserved at Jimmy’s.

Max grabbed his watch and headed toward the living room, adjusting it as he walked. Noah was sprawled on the couch, scrolling his phone with the kind of disinterested focus only teenagers could pull off.

“You wanna come?” Max asked casually, pulling his car keys from the counter.

Noah didn’t even look up. “I’m seventeen.”

Max leaned against the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And I’m Max Verstappen.”

Noah gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, that’s not how laws work.”

Max stepped into the room, tossing his keys in the air and catching them with one hand. “Relax, kid. You’re with me. No one’s checking your ID.” He raised an eyebrow, adding, “Unless you want to stay here and eat more cereal while I’m out having the time of my life.”

Noah hesitated, sitting up slightly. “What, and hang out with you and your harem of club girls? Hard pass.”

Max grinned, crossing his arms. “It’s not just girls. My friends will be there. Good music, good drinks, a little chaos. You could use some chaos.”

Noah snorted. “I don’t think I fit your ‘chaos’ aesthetic.”

Max walked over and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to fit. You just show up, keep your head up, and let the good times come to you. Trust me, kid—it’s not rocket science.”

Noah looked at him, torn between scepticism and curiosity. “And if I hate it?”

“Then you call it a night, and we’ll come back. No harm, no foul.” Max shrugged. “But at least you’ll know what you’re missing.”

Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anyone tries to buy me a drink, I’m out.”

“Deal.” Max grinned, slapping him on the back. “Now, go change. You’re not wearing that.” He gestured vaguely at Noah’s hoodie and sweatpants.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“It’s not wrong; it’s tragic. Go put on something that says, ‘I’m seventeen, but I could still be cooler than you.’”

Noah rolled his eyes but got up and headed toward his room. Max leaned back against the couch, chuckling to himself. This was either going to be a disaster or the most fun he’d had in weeks.

Fifteen minutes later, Noah emerged in dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.

Max whistled. “There you go. Almost looks like you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t push it,” Noah muttered, grabbing his jacket.

“Alright, kid,” Max said, swinging an arm around his shoulders as they headed for the elevator. “Welcome to the good life. Try to keep up.”

Jimmy’z was everything Noah expected and nothing he was prepared for. The place was loud, packed, and drenched in neon lights that pulsed to the bass of some remix he didn’t recognise. Max walked in like he owned it, breezing past the bouncers and slapping hands with a few familiar faces on his way to their table.

The VIP section was cordoned off with velvet ropes and framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the city. A couple of Max’s friends were already there, leaning back with drinks in hand, laughing at some story one of them was telling.

Max clapped a hand on Lando's shoulder, said something about ordering another round, and then turned to Noah with a grin. “Alright, kid. First drink’s on me.”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to drink?” Noah muttered, looking around nervously.

“You’re not supposed to get caught drinking,” Max corrected, flagging down a waitress. “Two rum and cokes. Easy on the rum for him,” he added with a wink.

Noah sat awkwardly, trying to ignore the curious glances from Max’s friends. When the drinks came, Max slid one across the table. “Here. Cheers.”

Noah picked up the glass and took a cautious sip, immediately grimacing. “This tastes like gasoline.”

Max burst out laughing, nearly spilling his own drink. “Yeah, it’s not exactly a milkshake, but you’ll get used to it.”

Noah frowned but kept sipping, each drink slightly less terrible than the last. By the time the glass was empty, he didn’t hate it—but he definitely wasn’t in a hurry for another.

“Alright,” Max said, leaning back and draping an arm over the back of the booth. “Time for your next lesson.”

“Lesson?”

“Yeah.” Max grinned, nodding toward the dance floor where a group of girls was laughing and swaying to the music. “How to get a girl.”

Noah blinked at him. “I’m seventeen.”

“And you’re eighteen in three weeks,” Max shot back, smirking.

Noah raised an eyebrow. “How do you even know that?”

Max sipped his drink, looking almost offended. “I pay attention. I’m not that bad of a father, you know.”

Noah snorted. “Debatable.”

“Hey, come on,” Max said, leaning forward and pointing at him with his glass. “I’ve got three weeks to turn you into someone who doesn’t spend prom night sitting in the corner playing Angry Birds. Let me work my magic.”

“I didn’t go to prom,” Noah mumbled.

“Exactly my point.” Max gestured to the dance floor. “Now, watch and learn.”

Noah shook his head, but he couldn’t help smirking. Watching Max in his element was like watching a lion stalk the savanna. Ridiculous, over-the-top, and somehow annoyingly effective.

Noah leaned back in the plush booth, his gaze flicking nervously between the drink in his hand and the dance floor. “This feels illegal,” he muttered under his breath.

Max, already halfway through his second rum and coke, let out a loud laugh that turned a few heads. “Illegal? We’re in Monaco.” He gestured broadly at the glittering club around them, as if the name alone erased all laws. “The girls here don’t care how old you are, as long as you’re pretty enough.”

Noah raised an eyebrow. “And what if I’m not?”

Max leaned forward, smirking. “You’re my son, so of course you are. Trust me, kid, you’ve got the genes. Now, you just need the confidence to back it up.”

Noah rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the faint flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, sure. Because confidence is something you can just magically summon.”

“Exactly,” Max said, snapping his fingers like it was that simple. “It’s all in the attitude. Look, you don’t need to be the smartest or the funniest guy in the room. You just need to act like you know something they don’t. Makes them curious. Curiosity’s half the battle.”

Noah stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s the dumbest advice I’ve ever heard.”

Max grinned, sitting back and gesturing to the waitress for another round. “And yet, here I am. Multi-millionaire. World champion. Living proof it works.”

“Yeah, but you’re—” Noah hesitated, then gestured vaguely at Max’s whole presence. “You.”

“Exactly. And you’re half me. Which means you’ve already got a head start.” Max leaned in, lowering his voice like he was letting Noah in on a secret. “Here’s the trick: don’t overthink it. If you go out there looking like you’ve got something to prove, you’ll scare ‘em off. Just...be cool.”

“Cool,” Noah repeated, deadpan. “Got it. Thanks for the groundbreaking advice.”

Max smirked, pushing his chair back and standing up. “Fine. Don’t believe me. But if I come back with two numbers before you even finish that drink, you’re buying me breakfast tomorrow.”

Noah shook his head as Max strolled off toward the dance floor, impossibly confident and infuriatingly charismatic. It was hard not to admire it, even if it made him feel like an awkward kid in comparison.

He stared down at his empty glass, debating whether to order another drink or just leave, when a girl about his age walked past and glanced his way. She gave him a small smile, and Noah froze, his heart racing.

Max’s words echoed in his head. “Just act like you know something they don’t.”

Noah took a deep breath, set his empty glass on the table, and stood up. His palms felt clammy, and every nerve in his body screamed at him to sit back down. But then he caught Max watching from the floor with an infuriating smirk before turning to whichever woman he was talking to this time.

Don’t overthink it, Noah reminded himself. Just be cool.

The girl was standing near the edge of the dance floor with a friend, laughing at something on her phone. She looked up as he approached, her eyes flicking over him in curiosity.

“Hey,” Noah said, trying to sound casual. “You looked like you needed saving from a bad joke.”

She raised an eyebrow, amused. “Oh? And you’re the knight in shining armour?”

“Something like that,” Noah said, stuffing his hands into his pockets to keep from fidgeting. “Or at least I’m not the guy who made you laugh like that.”

Her smile widened, and her friend nudged her playfully before disappearing toward the bar. “Smooth,” she said, tilting her head. “Do you use that line often?”

“First time, actually,” Noah admitted, his lips twitching into a nervous grin.

The honesty seemed to win her over. They started talking—light, easy banter—and before Noah knew it, she was laughing at something he’d said about his dad being a “professional bad influence.”

From the booth, Max had a clear view of the whole thing. He nudged Lando, grinning like a proud idiot. “Lan, look!” He pointed toward the dance floor. “The son of a bitch did it!”

Lando squinted, then let out a low whistle. “Damn. Didn’t think he had it in him.”

Max chuckled, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his seat. “He’s my kid. Of course he’s got it in him.”

Noah returned to the table a while later, looking flushed and slightly dishevelled. His lips were swollen, and there was a faint lipstick smudge on his cheek.

Max raised his glass in a mock toast. “Atta boy!”

Noah slid into the booth, trying to suppress a grin. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s already a thing,” Max said, slapping him on the back. “You’re officially part of the club now.”

Lando smirked. “Better keep an eye on him, Max. He’s almost got more potential than you.”

“Potential? He’s a damn prodigy,” Max joked, laughing. “First drink, first girl, all in one night. Kid’s got a better batting average than I did at his age.”

Noah rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help smiling. As much as his dad’s teasing drove him crazy, there was something undeniably cool about seeing Max so proud.

“Alright,” Max said, clapping his hands together. “Now that you’ve got your feet wet, let’s see if you can do it again.”

Noah shook his head, laughing. “Not a chance. One’s enough for tonight.”

“Fair enough,” Max said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “But just so you know—you’ve officially graduated from boring.”

For once, Noah didn’t argue.

the end.

[meelusinee]

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT ✦ M.R x READER

in which mattheo is absolutely in love with you before you two even talk for the first time

pairing: lovesick!mattheo riddle x reader

tags: lovesick mattheo, fem reader, so tamino inspired

word count: 3.7k

warnings: just fluff again! along with easily flustered mattheo (+ teasing theo)

author's note: my second post!! i made a small playlist of tamino songs i used for mattheo in this. if you haven’t, please go listen to him (his music is so good). i based this off a small part of my first fic where theo sang to reader. as always, while english is my first (and only) language, that does not mean i claim it in any way shape or form (aka this will probably suck ass)

NOW SHE HAS ME UNDER HER SKIRT | M.R x READER

Mattheo didn’t know much about love. 

Between being raised by a dictator and his craziest follower, he already didn’t have a very good start. Especially whenever he would get in trouble, the Cruciatus Curse was definitely no joke. Not to mention everyone pestering him about the legacy he led. News flash to the Gryffindors who would try to pick on him, he found it quite obvious that he was Voldemort’s son.

Suffice to say that he didn’t know much about love. He never had a true showcase of it, never had an example of it to compare to anything. The closest he ever had being another stunted teenager by the name of Theodore that considered him his brother, but even then there was still distance.

That was until he met you.

You, the most beautiful person he had ever met in his entire existence on this Earth. Anything he  lol looked at on you he would find absolutely perfect, from the color of your eyes to the way your hair bounced in the sunlight.

That alone made it hard to approach you. Your nice demeanor seemed to make it even harder.

So, he settled with admiring from afar. Mattheo knew your schedule, the classes that you would take and every time that it varied. He would subtly watch you in classes, hang around the same areas you did during your break periods, or even where you went for fun. And, to the best of his ability, he tried to avoid things that looked bad. No more fights or cursing, not unless he was truly provoked.

His mind also got its grubby hands on the idea of a journal. A place he could write about you freely, one he charmed so only he could read it. Entries, song ideas, anything he could think of. You made him an artist, you as his perfect muse.

And it all got even better when you two finally met.

You had just walked down to the courtyard, Mary Janes clacking along the rocks as you made your way over to a small pillar.

Recently, you noticed someone sitting by the pillars a lot more than usual. He was tall, his face usually covered by his brown curls as he wrote inna small journal he always carried with him. Said tall man with a face covered by his brown curls was your current potions partner, you had both been assigned to create a Liquid Luck potion.

“Hello?” you called out gently. face tilted down just a bit as you looked down at him. His eyes locked with yours when he looked up, the most beautiful shade of molten honey you had ever seen meeting your eyes. “Hi there, stranger.”

“Hello?” he whispered back at you, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke. His face looked rather cute when it was all scrunched up like that, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“I’m your Potions partner.” you said with a smile, flattening your skirt before moving to sit down next to him. “For the Liquid Luck project.”

“Oh,” he whispered, nodding as he closed his journal. It had a rather pretty leather cover, the pages aged and covered in ink from what you could tell. “Yeah, I remember. Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, nodding. “And you’re Mattheo.”

“Yes I am.” he said, a soft smile coming on his face as he heard that. He looked at you with something special in his eyes, eyes that carved themselves deep into your soul with the most intricate patterns you could think of.

The trance both of you seemed to be stuck in was broken when he cleared his throat, fingers tapping on his journal. “Did you have any ideas for the project?”

“Oh,” you whispered, nodding. “Yes, yes I do. I was thinking that we head to the library and research different potion methods and whatnot. Based on Slughorn’s instructions, I’m assuming that the instructions in the books won’t help much.”

“You’re a genius.” he whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“What was that?” you asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing,” he said, clearing his throat as he began to sit up. “Do you want to go now?”

Mattheo thought that he was dreaming, if he was being honest.

The girl of his dreams, the girl that he had wrote almost obsessively day and night about for almost six years, that same girl was currently sitting across from him. Laughing.

“You’re ridiculous,” she smiled at his joke, her voice sweet like a piece of cotton candy melting on your tongue. He didn’t even remember what he had joked about at this point, his mind turning to mush the moment he heard that sound pass your lips.

Those lips that haunted his dreams every single night, the image of them so plush and pure he wanted to worship them like one would a holy angel. They looked absolutely perfect.

“Thank you,” he whispered, smiling softly as he rested his chin on his hand. He probably looked like a lovesick puppy, but he didn’t mind. 

“I found something really interesting in this book  by the way,” you said, Mattheo’s eyes instantly darting to where your hands were resting on the page. “It says in the recipe that we need to juice a squill bulb, which most people just cut it for. But this recipe here notes that squeezing ingredients over a funnel gets more juice out.”

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered, his gaze looking at your face as you spoke. 

“Isn’t it?” you asked with a smile. “And here it says that adding the entire Murtlap makes the potion last longer, rather than just growth.”

“That’s also really interesting.” he whispered again, gaze still stuck on your face. You looked so pretty whenever you were concentrating on things, the way your eyebrows furrowed making him think of a million different songs and rhythms. 

“Is it?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Well,” he muttered, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “I always found Potions an interesting topic.”

“Always is not a word. It’s more of a concept.” you said, humming as you continued reading the pages. Mattheo chuckled softly, looking at you like a lovesick puppy.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered. 

Theo was sitting in his bed reading a book, his curtains almost completely closed as he flipped between page to page. At least, he pretended to.

Recently, he had noticed Mattheo’s obsessive journaling habits. How his hands would be covered in ink by the time he was finished, or how he’d write until his new candle burnt out. Sometimes Mattheo would write even when the candle burnt out, instead opting for yet another one.

It was rather concerning to Theo, to say the least. Out of all of the things Mattheo could do, he was changing who he was. Self-improvement was one thing, but it seemed like he changed an obsession from fighting to writing.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Mattheo mumbled, looking back over at where Theo was sitting.

“I’m surprised you can,” Theo said under his breath, closing his book and standing up. “With how much you’ve been writing, I’d assume you get sucked in by a black hole sometime soon.”

“Oh hush,” he whispered, looking up from the journal. His hands were stained black and red with quill ink, the candle beside him still burning brightly. “Why do you keep staring at me? You’ve been doing it all week.”

“Your journal.” Theo smirked, walking behind Mattheo and placing his hands on his Mattheo’s shoulder. “What’s inside?”

“Why would I tell you?” Mattheo grumbled, continuing to write in the journal. Theo’s eyes squinted as they tried to read whatever was on the page, but the words were too jumbled to make any sense to him. No doubt a charm.

“You charmed the journal?” Theo asked curiously, looking down at Mattheo.

“Like you care.” he whispered under his breath, the quill scratching loudly against the paper. The room was quiet other than that, nothing but the quill scratching and the candle crackling.

“I do.” Theo said, his voice a bit more stern. He pulled up a chair next to Mattheo, resting his elbow on the table. “Mattheo, you’re pushing everyone away. Even me, and it’s not healthy. All you do is write in this journal, it’s kind of worrying.”

“I just like writing,” Mattheo whispered, moving his legs to rest his knees near his chest.

“About what?” Theo asked, his voice more soft than teasing.

“You’ll judge.” Mattheo whispered again, flicking the quill back and forth as his eyes glanced over at Theo. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because you’re my best friend.” Theo whispered. “I promise I won’t judge.”

Mattheo sighed before turning to the journal, pressing his wand against it as the words came into view more clearly. His handwriting was a lot more cursive than Theo first remembered, no doubt changing the more he wrote. 

“It’s a journal about her,” Mattheo whispered, flipping through some of the pages. “Love letters, poems, songs and stuff.”

“Her?” Theo asked curiously. “Who’s her?”

“Her,” Mattheo muttered to Theo, picking at his fingernails as he spoke. He looked like a blushing schoolboy who found his first love, it was rather cute to watch. “It’s, like, she’s a girl I just really like. I think about her a lot, you know? And I’m just trying to improve myself for her.”

“What’s her name?” Theo asked, resting his head against his hand as he crossed his legs.

“Y/N.” Mattheo sighed, like the word itself was a part of some holy prophecy. “She’s so beautiful, you know? Like something from heaven, just beautiful. And I just can’t get her out of my head.”

“Have you ever tried talking to her?” Theo asked, a small smile on his face.

“We have this project together right now.” he said, chuckling softly as he spoke. He was so down bad. “She took me to the library to research more about potions. Merlin, she’s so smart Theo. She figured the reason why nobody could make the potion was because the instructions were wrong.”

“So you both started researching?” Theo asked.

“She researched, yeah,” Mattheo said, before chuckling again. His hand moved to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I kind of just sat watching her the entire time.” 

“Mattheo,” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

“You said you wouldn’t judge!” Mattheo protested.

“I’m not judging.” Theo chuckled, looking down at the journal. “I’m just confused on how you think you’ll get your girl if you can’t even talk to her. Journaling can only go so far.”

“I know,” Mattheo whispered, looking down at his journal again. “But it still helps.”

Theo nodded, looking down at the journal again. “What are you writing about right now?”

“Uh,” he muttered, looking at the pages. “It’s a song. She said something at the library that made me think of a song, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”  

“What’s it sound like.” Theo asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Uhm,” he whispered, picking at his nails again as he pushed the journal towards Theo. He hummed softly as he picked it up, eyes squinting as he tried to read his handwriting.

Darling, just calm with your voice

Let your heart sing, how I always enjoy 

When you say “always” is not a word

You think love is a bit absurd.

“That’s really nice,” Theo said, looking up at Mattheo with a small smirk. “This is a lot better than I thought it’d be, to be honest.”

“What did you think I was writing about?” Mattheo asked confusedly.

“Dark magic or something.” Theo chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Like you were possessed by a ghost to figure out how to resurrect themselves.”

Mattheo chuckled at that, taking his journal back. “I think you’ll find someone like this, you know. It makes life really nice.”

“Being in love?” Theo asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah,” Mattheo whispered. “In love.”

“Well, there’s always an opportunity for that. And when it happens, it’ll happen.” Theo said, patting his pockets and pulling out a box of cigarettes. “But until then, there’s cigarettes.”

“You know the way to my heart, don’t you?” Mattheo snickered at that, using the lit candle to light his own cigarette.

It had been a couple of weeks since you and Mattheo had started working on your project. You had figured out how to maximize the efficiency of your potion brewing, including changing methods of brewing and preparing ingredients. After about three different trials, you had finally found the perfect way to brew the potion. 

“That’s perfect.” Mattheo smiled softly at you, chuckling softly as he scratched the back of his neck. In all honesty, it looked like a regular potion to him. “I think that’s perfect, right?”

“That is perfect.” you said, giggling softly as his reaction You found it rather cute, if you were being honest. He seemed rather nervous around you. “Thank you for doing all of this with me, the potion work and all. Most people would probably just leave it to me, you know?”

“Why would they leave?” Mattheo asked, eyebrows furrowing.

You shrugged, looking down at the potion still set in the cauldron as you spoke. “I don’t really know. I guess people consider me weird or something like that. Someone said that I was whimsical once, I don’t think it was a nice way though.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous.” Mattheo spat. He couldn’t understand the logic of that. In his eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He would give anything in the world to hang out with you more often than he got too, and people gave that up for free? The thought was absolutely ridiculous.

You chuckled quietly at that, smiling softly. “Yeah?”

“Definitely. I mean,” he paused, looking up at you like that was the most absurd thing in the entire world. He had a small flush on his face, no doubt questioning what he was going to say. “I mean, you’re such a nice person. And I think that hanging around you is comforting.”

“And I think that you’re rather sweet.” you chuckled, looking at him with a soft smile.

“I’m being serious!” Mattheo said, looking you in the eyes. You hadn’t heard him talk this much in the entire time that you had been working with him, and you especially didn’t expect it to be him defending you. “You’re just, like, you. Which is really sweet, you know? I really like you and your whimsy, or whatever they try to call you.”

You giggled again, smiling softly at him as you scooted a bit closer. “You’re rather nice yourself, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” he whispered, his voice raising a pitch as he looked at the potion. “Do we need to test this?”

“I think so.” she nodded. “Do you want to do it?”

Mattheo looked at the potion, a small frown coming on her face. If anything went wrong with the podcast, he wouldn’t want you to be hurt by it. Which led to him nodding, the best option for him obviously being him taking the potion himself. 

“I’ll bottle it for you.” you said, grabbing the small ladle and pouring it inside the potion vial. “Here, one vial of Liquid Luck for you.”

Mattheo smiled softly as he took a sniff of it. “Is it meant to smell like something?”

“No, just air. I mean, clean air. Not like toxic air or anything.” you said, before ending your small speel. “It doesn’t smell like anything.”

Mattheo nodded again, taking a swig of it before coughing. “That’s definitely hot.”

“It did just come off the cauldron.” you chuckled, fingers fidgeting slightly. “Do you feel lucky?”

Mattheo looked up at you with a look you could only describe as a lovesick puppy, a small flush covering his face as he admired you. You could only assume the amount of thoughts running through his mind were plenty, some very hard to sort through. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at you. “Very lucky.”

You chuckled softly at that, your face flushing as you watched his eyes lock onto your lips. “Do I have something on my lips or something?”

“No,” he whispered softly, his Adam’s Apple bobbing as he spoke. “No, I just,”

“Something on my teeth?” you asked, shining your teeth to him.

“I want to kiss you.” he whispered. 

Your mouth closed again as you heard that, eyes locking onto his after he spoke. That didn’t last long though, as his eyes focused back on your lips again. “You what?”

“I want to kiss you.” he said a bit more clearly, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me.” you whispered softly to him, scooting a bit closer to him in return. 

Mattheo blinked for a couple of seconds, the shock of your answer plastered on his face. It filled you with a small sense of confidence, the blush on his face fueling your own. “I can?”

“You can.” you smiled.

Mattheo smiled brightly at that, the burn of it brighter than the sun sucking his lips in like a blackhole would. His lips immediately met yours, burning like fireworks against his skin. It was absolute bliss to him, burning through his skin and turning him into nothing but lovesick ash.

“Your lips are absolutely perfect, my love.” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours with a gaze full of adoration. “So perfect.”

“Was your luck to try and kiss me, Riddle?” you chuckled softly at him. 

“This is the luckiest moment of my life.” he whispered. 

“Theo!” Mattheo spat out, opening the dorm room door as he stormed in. His palms looked sweaty, and his face was absolutely covered in a bright blush. 

“Mattheo.” Theo said his name back, closing his book as he looked at where Mattheo had stormed in. He looked absolutely wrecked, almost drenched in sweat. “You look like you just got your ass kicked on the Quidditch field.”

“I just,” he whispered, walking closer to Theo as he paced around the room. “I just kissed her.”

“Y/N?” Theo asked, a small smile crossing her face. “You kissed her?”

“It was so perfect.” he whispered, laying down on Theo’s bed. “Like, it was like her lips had a magnetic pull on me. I couldn’t stop for the next hour. A whole hour!”

“That’s wild, mate.” he chuckled softly, patting Mattheo on the head.

“It was just perfect,” he whispered under his breath, sighing softly. “Like, I don’t know how else to describe it. Maybe like looking at a supernova for the first time.”

“You are down bad, Mattheo.” he chuckled softly at that, continuing to pat his friend on the head.

“And then we, after that right?” he said, the smile on his face only growing larger. “We snuck off to this broom closet. You know the ones. And we did, we had,” he paused, sighing in frustration as his words jumbled in his head. “You know?”

“I know.” Theo chuckled.

“I have a song idea again.” Mattheo said, sitting up again as he rushed to the journal he kept so dearly to his heart. “I will be dead to the world for the next few hours.”

“You want me to go tell Y/N that, lover boy?” Theo smirked.

“She can come in whenever.” Mattheo said, dipping his quill in black ink. “I already gave her our dormitory password.”

“You what?”

“I have a present for you.” Mattheo whispered under his breath, a small smile on his face as he walked towards you.

It was the 6 month anniversary of one of the happiest relationships you had ever been in. There was communication and there was love. Small dates near the Black Lake at midnight, with breakfast you stole from the Great Hall earlier. Times where he’d take you into town and let you dress up however you wanted, all on the cards he stole from Malfoy. Or small get-togethers like this, hangouts at the top of the Astronomy Tower. 

And the presents were always lovely. Small poems that he wrote for you, or love letters that he hand wrapped himself. A small blush or dress you had been eyeing for more than two seconds, or room decor that went with your forever indecisive aesthetics. 

“You do?” you giggled softly, gasping softly as he pulled out a small guitar. “A song?”

“I’ve written a couple for you,” he whispered. “And I wanted to sing them to you. For our anniversary.”

“I love you.” you giggled, smiling as he sat down.

He cleared his throat as he made sure the guitar was in tune, strumming a few chords before eventually developing a melody. It seemed almost hypnotic the way his hands moved, his voice humming along as he figured out the rhythm.

“Yesterday, I was a word. Left with no voice to speak it,” he hummed softly, his voice and the guitar both vibrating through the walls. You smiled brightly as you heard his voice, not realizing how pretty his voice actually sounded.

“Now I am a happy song, placed on the lips of a woman.” he sang, winking at you. He continued for a few lines, a small smirk growing on his lips as he got to the instrumental part.

“What are you going to sing next?” you asked, watching him giggle softly. “Seriously!”

“Patience,” he whispered, chuckling as he strung the melody again, his eyes darting down at the guitar. “Now she has me, under her skirt,”

“Mattheo!” you flushed, slapping his arm and breaking the rhythm of his song. “My skirt?”

The both of you burst out into a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the cold night air that breezed through the alcove you sat in. Or maybe you just felt warm in his presence, a constant feeling of love rushing through your body.

“Can I finish my song now?” he smirked.

“I suppose you could.” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as he continued to sing.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

my second post oh my GOD this one took a hot minute to get through. beta-reading and proof reading is definitely not my jam, and there's definitely things that i missed in this. but i hope it still works out well, especially the whole lovesick angle i was going for. if you guys haven't already, please please please go check out tamino's music. it is actually so. good. if you listen to hozier or adrianne lenker, i think you'd really like his songs (my favorites are the first disciple and habibi)

as always, please like, comment, and reblog! it really helps out, and i really appreciate everyone who does! if you guys have any requests or something you can request in the ask box!

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ keep on comin’ back

babydaddy!toji x fem!reader

the reason he keeps on comin back.

tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.

note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.

“What are you doing here? It’s not my week—hi megs, mimi!” you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.

Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. “What are you doing here? Don’t think you’re getting any, last time was a mistake.”

“Last time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didn’t hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.” You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.

“well that’s never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?” you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one another—unconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.

“megumi’s supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbing’s backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommy’s house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.” you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.

and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.

“tried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasn’t any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?” he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.

“bags are in the truck,” he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.

being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldn’t understand why mommy and daddy aren’t together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.

Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonight’s meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.

Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. “mommy? do you love dad?”

his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. “yes, but not as much as i love you,” he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumi’s mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.

“so, then why aren’t you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dad’s room at the other house—“

you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? there’s no way—maybe he’s got someone else in mind…right?

“mm…i don’t know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and I’ll call yuuji’s dad.” you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.

there’s no way, right?

—

the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blur—still caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.

even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.

and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.

yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when toji’s deep voice echoed through your ears.

“knew I would find you here. what are ya watching?”

“uhh supernatural….toji can i ask you a question?”

“ya just did,” he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. “you know what i meant.” he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.

“the ring you have, is that for me?” there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.

“meg’s told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you think—“ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.

“gotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.” he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lap—your plush thighs melting against his waist.

“but, yeah. ‘m gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,” his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldn’t take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.

toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tip—to the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.

he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.

you released him with a ‘pop’ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, “shhh don’t wanna wake them up. now do we?” the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.

he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. “need you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.”

you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming back…..well, one of the reasons.

his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didn’t take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his base—sticking to your skin while you moved.

“fuck you’re so tight. missed this pussy,” his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.

everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater down—pushing it down a little—before putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.

the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.

he didn’t know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long it’s been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.

you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.

toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.

“look at the mess yer makin—shit! cum for me mamas”

oh the mess you made.

specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didn’t stop there.

toji’s grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt silly—splitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.

unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.

this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.

he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. “guess we gotta order a new crib. hm?”

[confusedshades]

You know what's also possible? (Since the other kids have already been covered and I'm in a mood to fiddle)

Bruce

Bruce, during one of his original training quests, (or if you're hoping for similar ages during his teenage rebellion) actually died a bit. Either a sparring hit gone bad giving him organ trouble or he hit his head just wrong, (or he accidentally drank/had too many pills or during a kidnapping attempt something went just wrong or if you're looking for more angst have him also die the night with his parents. After all he'd be covered in blood too if he were standing behind his parents and Martha had been shot in the head) *ahem* anyway. *backs away from the bloodthirsty angst train*

Bruce had stopped paying much attention to his own soul mark because why would a kid who couldn't figure out how to deal with his entire world vanishing overnight pay attention to something as small as soul marks. What he did know is the socialite standing in front of him tittering about breaking norms and publically showing off soul marks was a jewel and fur wearing viper but Brucie Wayne couldn't exactly say no without a good reason.

Dick

Dick had actually died when chemo got dropped. Or Blockbusters apartment bomb threw Dick into a wall hard. Or even when he died in that machine before Spyral. He's not coping well either way and he's been gregarious and outgoing usually but now? Nothing is the same anymore and he's not sure what to do. His soul mark changing to reflect that? Just some more icing on the trauma cake after all, and there's civilians to save anyway.

Damian

The poor kid can be forgiven for not really paying much attention to his soul mark. Talia made sure he knew how to hide the marks and anyone discovering it was silenced. The League - and her father most importantly - did not look kindly upon soul marks. She would know. It was a fact that was thrown in her face anytime Ra's was upset. As if her having a mark that matched her Beloved meant she would be a liability to leading the League. Talia noticed however when her son's mark changed after his father brought him back. In her long years and extensive experience she'd never heard of the mark changing - it either remained vibrant or faded leaving a scar to externalise the inner scar. Damian would be fine for now, he had his new powers to contend with. And if not, then her Beloved and his brood would protect him.

Soulmate aus where when Danny dies his soulmate becomes a halfa too <3

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[lupinqs]

hi hi hi!!!!!!! with the end of take me to church right around the corner, i want y’all to vote on which upcoming series you’d like to see first. imma be honest my favorite is the second one but i have so much lore for all of them that it would be easy for me to write any!!! vote pls!!!!

WNBA Paige x Upper East Side Princess OC:

paige plays for the liberty; she’s in her rookie season

oc is in her last year of college at columbia—her parents are very rich (like billionaire type rich) and she’s grown up on the upper east side

enemies to lovers hella because oc is a bitch lowkey and paige def matches that energy towards oc

despite being so young, oc also already has a fiancé that she’s kinda been expected to end up with her whole life because he’s a family friend and the son of another rich millionaire/billionaire but they’re more just friends if anything

oc’s finacé’s parents are huge funders towards NY sports (including the liberty) which is kinda why oc and paige see each other a lot

oc’s parents def don’t approve so angst there too

oc is also an ex basketball player who was forced out of the sport at a young age despite being talented and paige kinda helps her get back into the sport and start loving it again because at the beginning oc HATES basketball

very reminiscent of gossip girl

UCONN Paige x Teammate OC:

paige is in her junior year, oc a freshman (only a year and a half age gap yall don’t be weird)

oc was the number-one recruit in her class coming into college just like paige was so she’s got a lotta pressure on her

paige and oc are roommates

oc tore her ACL her junior year of high school so when paige tears her, oc is there for her because she’s been in that position before—paige and oc have had a lot of similar experiences which makes them really understand each other

paige really channels her inner coach p into oc because oc is gonna have to have a huge role in this season due to paige’s absence and then even more so with azzi’s injury

oc also has had a bf for like ever and i’m saying she’s been in love with this boy since she was a kid because they lived next door to each other—that type of thing. so oc has never even really thought about being gay or liking girls because she’s always been so infatuated with that boy but when she and him start having problems because he’s at a different college and when paige starts comforting her through that and she and paige start spending more time with each other, oc starts… realizing lots of things about herself and her feelings

lots of self-discovery

end goal is for paige to basically coach and encourage oc and team to a natty

WNBA Paige x Ex-Bestfriend Actress OC:

paige plays for the sparks; she’s in her rookie year

oc is a well-known and successful actress

paige and oc were childhood best friends (yes ik i just did this with tmtc) and had a hella homoerotic friendship that ends up falling apart paige’s first year of college after …. certain events

oc is more open about her sexuality but paige has always been very overthinking about it and has severe internalized homophobia which helps lead to the crumbling of their friendship before

oc has been really really successful these past few years in the acting industry; her first movie came out in paige’s sophomore year of college which was sort of a wake up call for her then because she hadn’t even known that her best friend was actually legit in acting now

paige’s junior year college is when she realizes that yeah, she is gay and she was in love with oc basically her whole childhood but she’s ruined it and she doesn’t even think she has a chance anymore

paige is completely chill and confident within herself and her sexuality by her senior year of college

anyways in the present oc and paige meet again at some after party in la and it’s so weird for paige because oc seems so confident and at ease and she’s with all these famous people now but she used to be so shy and reserved

cameron brink and oc’s best friend are good friends and since paige and oc’s closest friends in la are good friends, they start running into each other a lot more

lots of angst fs and learning the new versions of each other vs remembering the ones they grew up with

[tomboy014]

Tamaranean Siblings, Part 2!

After the Body Swap incident, Phantom and Starfire get close.  Really close.  Turns out swapping bodies breaks down a lot of boundaries, and unlike Raven, the two have bonded.  Starfire has always been a hugger, and she’s taken to carrying Phantom around like a teddy bear. Phantom is used to having a red-headed big sister, and ever since his parents worked the ecto-deflectors into their jumpsuits, he might maybe be a teensy bit touch starved.  He loves to sprawl over Starfire whenever they hang out together.

It’s driving Robin up the wall.  Phantom knows he’s been crushing on Starfire for a while, and he goes and does this?!  He can’t help but get more brusque with Phantom, to the point it starts to interfere with group dynamics, and it prompts even Starfire to tell him off for it.

Danny confronts Dick privately to tell him off for being a total dingus.  As far as the two of them are concerned, Kor’i and Danny are basically siblings now.  He’s knows Dick has a crush on her;  that’s why Danny has been trying to talk him up to Kor’i so she’ll give him a chance, and his attitude is not helping.  Dick needs to CHILL OUT!

Robin: … Who?

Phantom: You live with her for pete’s sake! How do you not know her first name?!

This is also where it comes to light that Robin/Dick doesn’t actually have any dating experience.

Robin is a super popular super hero, leader of his team, and supposedly smooth and charismatic.  Dick Grayson is the adopted son of Bruce frickin’ Wayne and beloved by the public. Danny’s at the bottom of the social ladder and he still got a date with the most popular girl in school. Twice!  How are you this bad at girls? 

Either way, things with Robin start to calm down and the group dynamic returns to normal (though Danny will never let him live down his lack of love life).  But things in the training room start to heat up. 

Starfire and Phantom now have a much better understanding of each other’s limits, and the gloves are off.  The whole tower shakes whenever the two of them spar together, and they’re both experimenting with new ways to use their energy powers after seeing how the other uses theirs.  Phantom even manages to give Starfire a black eye for the first time, and she’s ecstatic! It’s a Tamaranean thing.  In their culture, it’s an accomplishment when a younger sibling to visibly injures the elder sibling for the first time.  It shows how much the younger has grown and how well the elder has taught them.  Starfire is super proud and posts it all over SpaceBook.

But Phantom has ulterior motives for pushing Starfire the way he has been.  No one knows his strengths like Starfire does.  More importantly, no one knows his weaknesses the way she does.  If there’s anyone who’d know how to stop him…

Phantom asks Starfire to be his contingency plan, and explains everything that happened in The Ultimate Enemy, about his future self, what he did, and how terrified he is if he one day becomes that.  If that ever happens, he wants her to be the one to take him out.

Don’t try to talk him out of it.  He already gets it enough from his friends and sister that it won’t happen.  That he’s a good person.  He doesn’t need to worry about that, etc.  He’s heard it all before, but… None of them have actually agreed or promised to end him if it does happen.  And if it does… his friends are only human, and they couldn’t stop him before.

Starfire agrees.  She can see how important this is to him, and she won’t lose Danny to a dark path the same way she lost her sister.  The wave of relief that washes over him breaks Starfire’s heart.  These must be the horrible feelings that led him to develop the Ghostly Wail.

Still, she is confident that this future won’t come to pass because he chooses not to let it happen.  She, too, has been flung forward into a bleak future, but she knows nothing in the past, present or future is set in stone.  She fought and changed the future with her own two hands.  She’s knows Phantom is strong enough to do the same. 

While Dick and Danny were never really good at staying in contact with each other, Kor’i is and keeps up her relationship with Danny even after he “retires.”  She knew months before Dick of Jason did that he took the job at Arkham and is happy for him.  It may not be the career path he wanted, but he found a good job and a way to still help people without his powers. 

<<Prev

[ismaeldrawsthings]

Thinking about the contrast between Thetis and Mary mother of Jesus ok I am NOT crazy just hear me out

I'm thinking about how Mary just got married with a man she loved so deeply and was chosen by her God to give birth to his child, still a virgin. She felt honored. Her womb, a blank canvas that would paint an amazing story. Her son the embodiment of God, characterized by his gentleness and compassion, how he spent the years of his life spreading the word of God, messages about loving one's neighbor and peace. His child, whom she saw die humiliatingly and cruelly in the hands of a people who feared his message of love and peace. Who she saw coming back to her even after death.

And then we have Thetis. Thetis, daughter of Nereus, maybe the fairest one of them all. Zeus and Poseidon wanted her, and did she feel honored by this? Did she boast of being the envy of her sisters and cousins? Being desired by Olympians is no small thing. Let's say she did. Let's say she was excited to be chosen by the King Among The Gods and The King Of The Seas to dispute among each other for her hand. But then the prophecy, "greater than his father", came, and she was no longer desired. She was feared. Her womb was feared. They all knew what happens to those Gods who are greater than their fathers; Zeus still reeks of Cronos remains. So she was arranged a marriage to this man she knew nothing of nor cared about. In fact, in the standard myth, Peleus rapes her. He was told how exactly to do it. This mortal, who she hated—she couldn't stand mortal blood—, forced his child into her. They get married and her pregnancy begins. In some versions, Thetis has 6 children before Achilles who she kills because she couldn't stand the idea of having a mortal child. It's not fair. What did she do? Why was she being punished for something that was not up to her to decide? She has her son, and calls him ἄχος, suffering, because isn't that all that thing has caused her? Isn't all her suffering because of this dammed thing that grew inside of her? It should be easy to hate him. In fact, she should hate him.

Yet she doesn't. She loves him. She loves her little suffering. And she loves him so much she finds it all unfair. Unfair he will die and she will live carrying all this sorrow inside of her. She wished there was a way to grant him with godhood, but there is none. He is no God. And that is cruelty, that isn't fair.

Even if she tries to protect him, her suffering is sent to war afar from her. And he's full of hate. And isn't all that hers? He was born out her hatred, out of her rage. That's what he was born to feel, that's what he was made of. No matter how much her or the people around him try to do, his destiny if full of hatred, and violence, and blood, and all things bad. He's named the Best Of The Greeks because of how many Trojans have died by his sword. He steals, and kills, and kidnaps. He's not just her suffering alone, now, he's the people's suffering, Αχιλλεύς. He dies and he doesn't come back, because he's mortal, she can't make him a God. And she will live forever with her sorrow.

Jesus was Mary's blessing. Achilles was Thetis' punishment. And yet they both loved their children like only a mother can.

Also to add to that contrast, Mary is dressed really modestly ofc because she's a virgin and God's mother and she has to have a lot of cloth to cover her. Thetis is illustrated showing a lot of skin most of the time. The cultural differences play game into that fact of course but this comparison is not even like implying that they're equivalent to either religion so wooooo woooooooo

Anyway it's 2 AM why am I yapping this much

[robbyykeene]

also shannon keene........

Not sure what exactly you were referring to with this anon but I’ll take this as an opportunity to go on a rant about Shannon and her place in this story because man, I have so many feelings about her. They introduce us to her as a deeply flawed mother, an addict who abandons her son for long periods of time without any means to care for himself, who parades strings of sleazy men through the house where her child sleeps, who lets her son drop out of school and turn to a life a crime just to pay the bills. And I’m not absolving her of her responsibility for these things. But when she was introduced in this show, to me more than anything else this all felt like a condemnation of Johnny’s absence. Like, look at what happened to Shannon. Look at how Robby was forced to grow up. How different things could have been if Johnny had been there, for either of them, at all.

But then season 5 comes along and we have Shannon apologize to Johnny. He says he’s sorry for not being there and Shannon brushes him off, says she’s sorry too, they were both young and dumb and didn’t know any better. Except Johnny was 35 years old when Robby was born, and Shannon was what…19? 20? 23 at the very oldest. And she didn’t get to be young and dumb. She didn’t have the choice to walk away, to just not be there at all.

And I think all the time about that line Robby says to Tory, how his mom used to be a dancer. Like, when do we think Shannon stopped dancing? When she met Johnny? When she got pregnant? When she gave birth? When Robby was a kid? Was she an addict before Johnny came into her life, or did that only come after? Did Johnny know from the outset what kind of person he was abandoning his son with, or was it something he discovered over the years and just did nothing about? When did she start engaging in survival sex—because that’s what that was—to pay the bills?

And even more than that—what was their relationship like to begin with? Was it a one night stand? A casual on and off hookup? A serious relationship? How did they meet? When she found out she was pregnant, what was Johnny’s reaction? What was hers? Did she want an abortion, and Johnny convinced her not to? Did he want an abortion, and Shannon refused? Was it too late for that by the time she found out? Did Johnny promise to be there, to be involved? Did Shannon think she was giving birth to a kid who would have two loving parents, or did she already know he was doomed from the minute she saw the positive test? How did she feel about all of it?

And ultimately none of these questions will be answered or even matter, because it’s not her story it’s Johnny’s. And I guess that was always the point. She was an object to him then, an object to him now, and nothing but an object to the narrative. But still. I think about her.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 94 (The Body in Brindleton Bay)

cw: dead body and a blood puddle, discolored / shadowed by the lighting, just to be less graphic tbh. For that reason I also don't zoom in on the body that closely, but text mentions who it is and there's no trick! That is who it is, even without a close-up!

Conrad met his young, eager partner, Zion Spangler, at the docks. His last partner, Josephine, had stuck around a few years longer than planned, but she was so close to retirement she deferred almost all her field work to Conrad and Zion. The sergeant liked the newly-minted detective's ambition and his instinct, and they approached the crime scene with caution.

A body laid at the edge of the pier in a pool of blood, already slightly washed away by the heavy, wet coastal snow of Brindleton Bay.

"The owners of the Salty Paw said someone knocked on their door about a body by their patio tables, but everyone was inside because of the cold and no one saw anything," explained Zion.

"Did you find any clues at the scene?"

"None. The snow washed away every footprint and fingerprint we might possibly find."

Zion got down on his knees to brush through the snow surrounding the body in search of clues. But Conrad took one look at the victim and knew exactly who they needed to look for. "Any ID on him?"

"Everything. Even his money. Vic's name is Jameson Bower."

No it wasn't. Not really. "Run that name through the database back at the station. Make sure he doesn't have any aliases, check his record."

Conrad could have offered to do it himself to cover his tracks. But he wanted to mentor Zion to be as good a detective as he could be, and he knew what the body of Jimmy Stefano represented. Surveying the grisly scene, his heart raced.

When Conrad backed out of the search for Rafa, Ximena called his bluff. This was his jurisdiction. He couldn't ignore a dead body connected to the cartel in Brindleton Bay. He didn't know whether Ximena wanted to hurt the cartel or bring him down, but she wouldn't let him walk away.

He'd all but asked for this when he agreed to meet her in this very spot months earlier, hoping he could get her to disappear by giving her what she wanted, helping her brother in the process. But Ximena hated to go quietly, and if he'd ignored her she wouldn't have let him be, either. It probably always would have come to this, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow.

He called Heather to check in. "Did you get to your parents'?"

"We're fine, Conrad. Lavender's asleep again and I'm just hanging out with Sammy." She tilted the camera on her phone to show off River and Cass' infant son, quietly drinking from a bottle. "Is the body related to the cartel?"

"It is."

"What are you going to tell your boss?"

"The truth."

"You could lose your job for sneaking around."

"Wouldn't I deserve it? I had to come clean to you first, and now it's time to come clean to everyone else."

"Conrad, I love you," she said. "I'm so mad at you for lying to me that I don't even know what else to say right now, but I need to be mad at you in one piece. We can talk more if you make it here this weekend."

"I love you, too." Zion called him then to return to the precinct. "I have to go."

As much as it burned to leave their conversation on that note, Ximena had forced his hand. If he didn't come clean to his coworkers and his boss, he'd lose his job. He might, anyway, but he couldn't move in shadows anymore.

With the scene documented and cleared and the body moved to the morgue, Conrad and Zion returned to the station. They worked through the night, and by morning it was obvious the victim was Jimmy Stefano, a low-level member of Los Tigres de Selva, one of the most violent cartels in Simlandia. "Do you think it's a new turf war?"

Conrad shook his head. "I don't think Los Tigres has operated out of Brindleton Bay for years."

Zion cocked his brow in confusion. "Well, what stopped them? They operate just fine out of everywhere else."

"They don't need Brindleton Bay when they've got hold of the ports in San Myshuno," he said, but his attention turned when their captain arrived. The man barely said hello, immediately shutting himself inside his office. Conrad didn't know if it was just that he'd had to come to work on a Saturday, or this specific case, but he had to come clean.

He knocked on the door. With a look, the captain waved him inside. "Sargent, you look tired." He laughed as if he'd made a joke.

"Been a long night."

The captain's expression changed. "Go ahead and shut the door, Sargent."

Conrad sat with an anxious expression, knees together, eyes down like he was about to be reprimanded in grade school. "About the docks victim, sir. I knew him."

The captain nodded plainly. "I read your file when I took over. But you're not the first cop who turned toward the law when they could have easily gone the other way."

"The thing is, I've been working a case under the table for a while now. I found Jimmy Stefano and filed a report against Ximena Bonilla."

"After everything done to bail you out and send you through the academy, you thought it was a good idea to investigate the cartel runner you once dated? For what reason?"

"She found my address, scared my fiancee. Ximena told me her brother was missing, and he and I were close. He was so young, and I wanted to help him."

"You didn't want to help San Myshuno PD? Ximena Bonilla's brother is a wanted man..."

"I would have told him to turn himself in and work a plea," he insisted. "My old precinct would look good, and I hoped Rafa could turn his life around with a little encouragement from someone other than his sister."

"Are you still in touch?"

"No, sir. I told her two days ago I was done searching for Rafa because I thought she was trying to trick me into investigating the cartel. Blocked her number. After the body showed up I tried the number I had but it's been disconnected."

"So she's the prime suspect."

"I think she might've figured out Jimmy talked to me and she wanted to get rid of him. If she didn't kill Jimmy herself - and she might have - I think she ordered the hit to draw me into an investigation against the cartel that could get me killed and endanger my family."

"Do you think she's working with Los Tigres?"

Conrad shrugged. "I don't know. I did a bit of digging and it looks like the cartel itself might be in a bit of disarray. Power vacuum after the murder of one of their higher ups (go on Frida!), so a turf war seems unlikely. I think the safest way to do this is to treat Ximena like a lone wolf. The cartel's not even supposed to be operating in Brindleton Bay these days."

"Since George Brindleton pulled his guys from the ports, they could have moved back in."

Conrad's stomach flipped. "George Brindleton?"

"George Brindleton lost his boats, but he didn't lose his security business. Pulled his men just before he left for Sulani. Said he was cutting costs at the port during the dead season, but I think he's just trying to remind us how important he is after his son went to prison. We upped patrol to try to deal with the lack of security down there, but his guys don't abide by any constitutional rights...I don't admit this outside these walls, but Brindleton's ports have always run better under private security."

"Was this before or after the restraining order I took out on him for Heather and the kids?"

The captain excused Conrad to think, soon calling him back with Zion and another officer who typically dealt with the press. "This is the plan. Our suspect is Ximena Bonilla, but we don't announce it. We look for her, or her brother, and no one else. We say the investigation is ongoing until we've found one or both of them. And Spangler, you're taking point on this one."

"Why me? Gordon's the sergeant."

"Gordon's too close to this one. I want him focused on looking for Rafa Bonilla, not Ximena, but he'll cooperate with you and help behind the scenes. She might try to reach out to him, and if she does, you'll be the first to know. And if you're not, he's a suspect, too." They nodded with understanding. "And Gordon? No more bullshit under the table or I'll put you on leave and find a way not to pay you."

Having worked through the night, Conrad relinquished his files to his mentee, but he left the precinct with a sense of unease. He still had a job, and he could still search for Rafa without needing to hide anything from his coworkers, but while Ximena was unaccounted for he would scarcely be able to relax.

After a nap in the break room, Conrad prepared to drive to Henford-on-Bagley and face his fiancee. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: I reinstalled TOOL to place the body. The blood isn't placed underneath the victim properly, but I was working at the edge of what was visible in a fully zoomed out screen, and for my second ever placement of a build/buy item and first ever placement of the teleporter off a lot in-game, I'm happy enough with the fact it looks like he bled out from the knees. 🤷 Maybe he did, I don't know, I didn't get detailed about the condition of the body because it doesn't advance the plot. Who and why is more important than how.

WCIF Poses & CC? @simmerianne93's Injured poses pack #1, which is a great set - so cinematic. One of the injured poses has the victim with eyes closed and looks a little like EA's curled-up death animation to me, and that's the one I used. And Blood on the Floor from the There Will Be Blood set by Lore from SimsRebelCreators. Several swatches (including red!) and different spatter patterns if you need some blood for your storytelling!

[mangohgeckoh]

Chemical Reaction (SilcoxOc!reader)

Chapter 2

“The Good Ole Times”

(Part 3 of 3)

-

Vander and Silco were not surprised to see their close friend singing on the counter of the bar, no, it was when a cloak was chucked at them from across the bar. “OuR LoVE~” Felicia’s drunk voice rang throughout the bar. The cape slowly fell off the brother’s faces to reveal an interesting sight: the newest addition to their ally list was also hammered, laying on the bar next to the dancing woman.

“‘Atta girl!” Vander boomed. Even though he was caked in coal and soot he had no issue sprinting across the bar to indulge in some late night-debauchery. Silco stood feeling a headache coming on as he watched helplessly as his friends got drunk on the bar’s already limited stock. “IS a BuRniNG foUntaiNN~” Felcia’s heavily hammered singing continued, Vander only supported as a backup singer. Ophelia laughed at Vander’s singing voice and turned her head as her neck started to get stiff on the wooden counter. Her eyes met Silco’s, but her drunk demeanor made her smile at him, thinking his scowl was the most funniest thing in Runeterra.

–

As months passed, the four of the trencher’s relationships grew. Ophelia grew comfortable with bar-friends so much so that she allowed her friends from camp to tag along for a few evenings. Of course, those not of age were not allowed to drink. The boy she had picked up from the streets months prior became particularly attached to one of the regulars at the bar, a young man named Benzo. The boy with white hair was always sitting on the countertop near where Benzo was. He often tried showing Benzo his new trinkets that he’d make from scrap metal. They were crude, yes, but there was a brilliance tied to them. Ophelia kept an eye on the young man with the boy he rescued, but it was when the boy shared his name with Benzo, a feat that Ophelia nor her camp friends could obtain, that she realized he had found a home.

It wasn’t easy letting Ekko go with Benzo, but the more she became acquainted with him the more she saw their father-son bond grow. She felt honored that she was able to help Ekko find a new home.

-

It had been a year now since the two families had intertwined. A tradition had well been solidified by now, every Monday, Friday and Sunday Ophelia would leave for The Last Drop to meet up with Vander, Felicia and Silco. Benzo and Ekko would always leave earlier, Benzo would argue it was because Ekko had a bedtime, but since Benzo was the oldest, Vander had always joked that it’s because he is getting old. Unless Ophelia brought anyone with her, it was just the four at the bar.

The Last Drop increased in popularity as time went on. Vander would become better at mixing drinks, allowing for more orders and money into the bar. Though, it was on the rare occasion that one of the late nights that Ophelia visited would be slow. Those were her favorite as it allowed more time for talking. Vander knew her long enough that he would eventually let her in on his real plans. “Sure, having a bar where Zaunites could mingle is great,” He’d say. “But I want to show Topsiders what true community can be.” He’d speak with such passionate vigor that Ophelia would be drawn in. Silco, who was always quiet during her visits, only talked the most when the subject of Zaun was brought into conversation.

One night, Felicia was working late at the mines while Vander and Ophelia had been talking about this Nation of Zaun when a few patrons came in, leaving Silco and Ophelia at a table on the side of the bar. This was the first time Ophelia ever heard Silco talk freely without being prompted to start a conversation. He shared indepth plans of Zaun. His Zaun. The plans were more ambitious than Vanders but nonetheless aligned. The way Silco spoke about his dreams was so encapsulating. It was like being told a beautiful fairytale, she couldn’t help but rest her chin on her palms while he pointed at a map of the Undercity. He had just finished his rant about the difficulty of crossing the bridge Piltover had built when Ophelia pointed to something on the map. “Don’t those gutters lead out to the Topside's sewers? It isn’t ideal but that may help to get a lay of the land.”

He bit his lip. “Gutters?” Ophelia was across the table so she went to stand next to Silco to make sure she was remembering the location right. She nodded, “Yes, I used to use these to get into the markets. The sewers are a network under the city.” Silco’s eyes sparkled. “I see…” He was silent the rest of the night, making Ophelia focus on Vander’s gang brawl stories.

-

Silco’s chest puffed up at her gasp. “Brilliant.” Ophelia’s ears were honed in on Silco’s newest contraption he had placed on their table. He and his brother had gotten into an argument that, from what she gathered, was about a dispute about Piltover. Across the room, Vander and Felicia were conversing at the bar.

-

It was a special night. Vander had reached enough patrons exactly a month ago to be able to quit his job at the mines while Silco had finally mapped out Piltover’s secret entrances from the gutters Ophelia mentioned weeks prior. It was a night to celebrate, Vander closed the bar early, of course to the annoyance of his many regulars. Ophelia sat a few seats away from Silco at the bar, despite it being a special occasion he was consumed in paperwork that we would rather die than putting off. There was one more missing though, but she wasn’t gone for long.

“I hate the mines!” Vander, Silco and Ophelia turned to see Felicia groaning, slamming the door. Usually she strides on up to the bar to get hammered but this time she was attracted to Vander’s shiny new jukebox. Ophelia giggled and turned back to the counter she sat at, taking a sip of her whiskey. She was way past being comfortable with drinking.

Her ears twitched.

‘Coin.’

‘Disk moving.’

Soon a familiar song started to play from behind them, making Ophelia groan due to the drunken memories associated with the song. Though, she did noticed Vander’s eyes lingering on Felicia. “What’s the occasion?” He asked while cleaning a glass from earlier. Felicia chuckled. “Can’t a girl be in the mood for a familiar song?” Silco was still focused on his work as Vander responded. “Not this lady,” The towel he had used to clean the cup returned to his shoulder. “And not this song.” He pointed out. Ophelia giggled and watched Felicia dance her way over to the bar. Vander quickly poured four glasses-worth of the most expensive liquor he sold.

Felicia sat at the bar, joining her friends. Taking a breath, she began. “Tonight, a hair-brained scheme these three bozos cooked up to turn a daint crack in the earth into a thriving healthy community became a reality.”

Vander smirked, eyes twinkling. “Tonight, aye?” He adjusted his position behind the bar, shooting Silco a look. “You hear that, bozo two?” Silco took a spoonful of porridge, turning to Vander. ”We made it, we’re done.”

“No,” Silco shook his head, grabbing his glass. “You're sadly mistaken,” He grinned at his friends. “I’m bozo number one.”

Vander raised his glass, proud of their accomplishments. “A night of revelations.” The friends toasted to that, but something was wrong. Ophelia could sense it.

Felicia didn’t drink when her friends did, rather, she squeezed her cup nervously. “I’m knocked up.” There was a long awkward silence that dawned over them. Ophelia cut the tension as Vnader and Silco processed the news. “How?”

Felicia scoffed, giving Ophelia an aggravated look. “Well when two trenchers love eachother very much…” Ophelia rolled her eyes but Vander finally regained himself. “How do you know?” He asked, pouring Felicia a cup of juice, replacing her old glass. Silco readjusted himself so he could sit closer to comfort his friend.

Sighing, she responded. “Wasn't really part of my plan…but guess that's everything when you're living week to week” Ophelia nodded solemnly. It was tough living in the Undercity, everyone is constantly trying to survive another day. Vander began to look concerned. “What did Connol say?”

A shade of guilt covered her face. “I haven’t told him.” Ophelia could tell that her friend was struggling, she couldn’t imagine what Felicia was going through. ”Working up the nerve.” Felicia continued on.“I don't know anything about kids. I get sweaty being alone with one” Her eyes looked as if they could start crying at any moment. Sensing this, Vander held her hand. “Hey. You're going to be a great mother.”

She shook out of his grasp. “Shut up. I’m not ready for that. I started trying to come up with a name and it hits me that this one word is a decision shes gonna live with her whole life.” She sighed. “I can't protect her all the shit down here and work out how to be a parent at the same time.” Suddenly, a vixen-like smirk grew from her mouth. “Then I realized I don't have to.”

“Hm,” Vander took a sip of his whiskey. “Why’s that?”

She leaned in as if she was about to tell a secret. “Because the second I told you, I put you on the hook.” Ophelia exchanged looks with Silco, Vander gulped. “You three are going to figure this Zaun thing out.” Silco gave her a look of awe as she explained. “I don’t care if you have to carve it out of bedrock and cover it in blisters.” She pointed at her friends, giving them a light threat. Ophelia felt something boil within her with how Silco looked at his friend. But she decided to push it away, her friend’s needs were more important.“ You're not allowed to fail anymore. For her. For me.” Felicia finished, narrowing her eyes at Vander who nodded. “What's the point if we can't raise an ankle biter or two?”

Silco chuckled. “To Zaun, then.” He raised his glass and met Ophelia’s eyes. “Blisters and bedrock.” The other three raised their glasses and toasted. “Blisters and bedrock.” After taking a drink, the bar became quiet again. Until Vander hummed. “I’ve always liked the name violet.”

-

[mals-writing-corner]

Cw: Roman Slavery, MCD

"Youth" did not mean a child in ancient Rome. It was a younger man who was very feminine. A femboy, if you will. It could be considered a third gender that only young men could have. But it did not mean underage.

This is inspired by the emperor Hadrian who made his dead lover into a god.

Special thank you to some amazing people who helped me out! Wolf and Ajax in the Ghoap Discord, and @paranoidpandora here on Tumblr! These three and I had a super fun brainstorming session, and after talking with my good good friend @irate-iguana , I came up with this idea. I may not make this into something bigger, but who knows 🤔

Roman emperor Soap who has been ruling for a long while. He's no longer in youth, his beard making sure of that. His skin is darker, more weathered. But, even as he's now left his youth, he doesn't have a youth yet. Even as his advisors try and push some onto him, he doesn't have one.

That is, until an outsider, the Ghost, is dragged into town. He was found on the outskirts, murdering traveling Romans. He was to be put to death. But he was the most beautiful youth Soap had ever seen. So he decides to take him as his slave. But his advisors will *not* let him anywhere near the emperor. So, Soap keeps him as his slave, owns him, but makes him fight in the collesseum. He watches, every fight. He's *terrified* that the Ghost is going to die, he's going to get killed by one of the beasts they throw in there, animal or human. But every time, he rises above. It seems, though, that the collesseum tempers his anger. He becomes more calculating as he continues to fight. So, Soap employs him to his praetorian guard, his personal bodyguard as it were. And, having fought in the arena, Ghost now knows Latin. He and Soap end up talking to each other, and eventually, Soap announces that Ghost, even with the scars of the arena, shall be his youth, because he's as beautiful as a youth. He doesn't know how old he is. Ghost won't say, maybe doesn't even know himself, but he's more beautiful than all the youths in Rome. They start a sexual relationship. In private, Soap is the bottom, the submissive, but in public, he carts Ghost around like his *lover* is the submissive one. Because youths could only be submissive. But Ghost is also good at his job. There have been several assassination attempts already, and Ghost has thwarted all of them. This only serves to make Ghost even *more* popular. But it also means his guard goes down more. And another assassination attempt goes through. And for his efforts, Ghost gets a dagger in the back. Soap uses that same dagger to slay his would be assassin, but it's too late for Ghost. He's dying. In his final moments, Soap frees him from his bonds of servitude, so that he may have a hero's death. Soap mourns his lover. He commissions statues in his honor, depicting him with the beauty of Venus, and the strength of Mars. He prays, every night, that his lover might return to him. One night, as he's laying across the marbled feet of his lover, he feels a cold hand touch his back. He looks up, and sees his lover, carved from marble, leaning down towards him. He explains that he was the child of Venus and Mars, and that Vulcan, his mother's husband, was jealous of him, of the attention he got from his mother, to a child who wasn't his. So he cast Ghost from Olympus, taking his memories, and his godly powers, but his youthful beauty could not be taken. Now, Venus and Mars see how loved their son is, and have brought him back as a statue, with Vulcan's blessing, but only for a moment, to give Soap the choice.

Continue living, or join him.

Soap doesn't even choose, he gets up into the pedestal and kisses his lover, holding him close as they turn to pure white marble. They would henceforth be known as the emperor, and his lover.||

[inkspiredwriting]

Daddy Daycare: Five’s Flu Fiasco

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

It was a gloomy Monday morning when Five Hargreeves woke to the sound of coughing and sneezing. He blinked, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Beside him, his wife Y/n was bundled up in blankets, looking utterly miserable. Her face was flushed, her nose was red, and her eyes were watery.

“Good morning,” Five said, though it sounded more like a question.

“Mmph,” Y/n groaned, pulling the blankets tighter around her. “I feel awful.”

Five’s heart sank. He knew what that meant. “The flu?”

Y/n nodded, looking like a pitiful burrito of misery. “I’m sorry, Five. You’ll have to take care of the kids today. And me.”

“Of course,” Five said, kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this.”

Y/n gave him a weak smile. “Thanks, love. Good luck.”

The Hargreeves’ kitchen was a scene of controlled chaos. Five had managed feed their two young children, Maddie and Milo, while also making tea for Y/n and preparing a quick breakfast.

Maddie, their five-year-old daughter, was seated at the kitchen table, trying to spread jam on her toast. Half of it ended up on her face.

“Daddy, I need help!” she called, waving her sticky fingers in the air.

Milo, their one-year-old son, was happily tossing Cheerios on the floor, giggling each time they bounced and rolled away.

“Cereal!” he shouted, flinging another handful.

“Alright, everyone, calm down,” Five said, juggling a spoon and a sippy cup. He quickly wiped Maddie’s face with a napkin and refilled Milo’s cup. “Breakfast is almost over. We’ve got a big day ahead.”

After breakfast, Five attempted to tidy up the kitchen while keeping an eye on Maddie and Milo. He heard a faint call from the bedroom and rushed to check on Y/n, who was now sitting up in bed, looking slightly more alive but still pale.

“How are you feeling?” Five asked, handing her a cup of tea.

“Like I’ve been hit by a bus,” Y/n replied, taking a sip. “Thank you for handling everything.”

“No problem,” Five said with a confident smile. “I’ve got it all under control.”

Five’s confidence was tested as soon as he attempted to dress the kids. Maddie was determined to wear her princess costume, complete with tiara and wand, while Milo insisted on nothing but his superhero cape and diaper.

“We can’t go out like this,” Five said, trying to wrestle Milo into some pants.

“But Daddy, I want to be a princess!” Maddie pouted.

“hero!” Milo added, running around the living room with his cape flapping behind him.

“Okay, okay,” Five sighed. “You can wear your costumes. But just for today.”

The kids cheered, and Five quickly sent a photo to Y/n, who responded with a laughing emoji and a thumbs-up.

Determined to keep the kids entertained, Five set up a makeshift play area in the living room. Maddie and Milo were delighted with the stack of pillows and blankets that Five turned into a fort.

“This is the best castle ever!” Maddie declared, crawling inside with her tiara.

“Yeah! Castle!” Milo echoed, diving in after her.

Five felt a small surge of pride. “I told you I’ve got this,” he muttered to himself. “How hard can it be?”

Lunchtime was another adventure. Five attempted to make grilled cheese sandwiches, but the kitchen soon filled with smoke as the first batch burned. He coughed and waved a dish towel in the air, trying to clear the haze.

“Uh-oh, Daddy’s cooking!” Maddie giggled, peeking over the counter.

“Oops!” Milo said, covering his mouth with his tiny hands.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Five said, scraping the burnt sandwiches into the trash. “We’ll try again.”

The second attempt was more successful, and soon the kids were happily munching on their sandwiches, while Five checked on Y/n again.

Y/n was dozing off when Five came in, a tray with soup and crackers in hand.

“Brought you some lunch,” he said softly, placing the tray on her bedside table.

Y/n opened her eyes and smiled weakly. “You’re amazing. How’s it going out there?”

“Surprisingly well,” Five said, though he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to convince. “The kids are having a blast.”

“Good,” Y/n said, reaching for the soup. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Five promised, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to.

Nap time was a blessed relief. Five managed to get Milo down for a nap, but Maddie was proving more difficult. She kept bouncing on her bed, her tiara askew.

“Daddy, I’m not tired!” she insisted, even as she yawned.

“Just try to rest,” Five said, tucking her in. “You don’t have to sleep, just relax.”

Maddie finally settled down with a storybook, and Five tiptoed out of the room, feeling a rare moment of calm.

By the time dinner rolled around, Five was feeling the strain. The kitchen was a mess, the kids were getting cranky, and Y/n still needed care. He decided on a simple dinner of pasta, hoping it would be quick and easy.

Of course, things didn’t go as planned. Milo managed to spill his milk, and Maddie decided to add her own “seasoning” to the pasta, which consisted of chocolate chips she had found in the pantry.

“What are you doing?” Five exclaimed, rescuing the pasta from further contamination.

“Making it yummy!” Maddie said, her eyes wide with innocence.

“Okay, no more cooking for you,” Five said, giving her a stern but playful look.

After the chaotic dinner, Five managed to get the kids into their pajamas and ready for bed. Maddie insisted on wearing her tiara to bed, and Milo refused to part with his superhero cape.

Five read them a bedtime story, feeling his energy finally start to flag. By the time he kissed them goodnight and closed their doors, he was ready to collapse.

Five finally had a moment to sit down and relax. He sank into the couch, closing his eyes for just a second.

“Five?” Y/n’s voice called softly from the bedroom.

Five sighed and got up, making his way to their room. “Yeah?”

Y/n looked up at him with a tired but grateful smile. “You did an amazing job today.”

“Thanks,” Five said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But I don’t know how you do this every day.”

“Practice,” Y/n said, laughing softly. “And you’re a natural. The kids love spending time with you.”

“I love spending time with them too,” Five admitted, leaning down to kiss her. “Even if it’s exhausting.”

Y/n reached up to brush his hair back. “You’re a wonderful dad. And a wonderful husband.”

“And you’re a wonderful wife,” Five said, lying down next to her. “Even if you’re currently a snotty mess.”

Y/n laughed and lightly smacked his arm. “Thanks. I think.”

“Get some rest,” Five said, pulling the blankets up around her. “I’ll handle everything else.”

Y/n snuggled into the blankets, her eyes already drifting shut. “Love you,” she murmured.

“Love you too,” Five whispered, watching her for a moment before heading back to the living room.

Five was finally able to relax. He sat on the couch with a cup of coffee, the house quiet and peaceful. Despite the chaos and exhaustion, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Taking care of his family, no matter how challenging, was worth every moment.

As he sipped his coffee, he couldn’t help but smile. Today had been a test of his patience and skills, but he had passed. And as he looked around at the cozy, if slightly messy, living room, he knew he wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

[jrob64]

Exacting His Revenge

- Chapter 3

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. To reward you for your patience, I will give you another chapter after this one, for a total of 4. (You would have gotten it anyway because I am apparently just too wordy)

Happy birthday again to @kmomof4 and thank you again to @hookedmom for betaing this story.

Story Summary: When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story.

Rating: M (for eventual smut in chapter 4)

Words (Ch. 3): 6666

Posted on Tumlr - Chap. 1 Chap. 2 and also on ffn and Ao3

Story found under the cut

*********

As the ship got closer to Storybrooke, Hook noticed Emma frequently glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. When the lights of the town appeared on the horizon, he saw her draw in a deep breath, turn, and walk toward the steps leading to the helm. Slowly climbing them, she looked up and met his gaze.

“Is there something I can help you with, Love?” he asked.

“I was just wondering…what do you plan to do, now that you killed Gold?”

He chuckled lowly. “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“Technically, you’re still under arrest. Now we’ll have to add escaping from jail to your charges.”

Hook reached up and scratched behind his ear. “Probably another assault charge, too.”

She widened her stance and crossed her arms. “What did you do?”

“I may have knocked your father unconscious with a pry bar.”

Rubbing her forehead in irritation, Emma sighed, “You’re a walking menace, you know that?”

“I couldn’t just sit in that concrete brig, while you were off by yourself with the bloody Dark One.”

Her eyes shot up. “You broke out of jail because you thought you had to save me?”

He dipped his head in a slight nod. “Aye.”

“Why?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“I knew what the crocodile was capable of doing. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Even though he needed you to help him navigate his way to his son, you were disposable once you found him.”

“You think he would have killed me? Knowing I had a son waiting for me back in Storybrooke?”

“He killed Milah knowing she had a son. Why would you be any different?” He watched her mull over her question. When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “Do you think Baelfire will stay in Storybrooke?”

She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know.”

“Do you wish for him to stay?”

“I don’t, but if Henry does, I guess I’ll have to accept it. First, I have to figure out a way to tell Henry about him, though.”

“You haven’t told him about his father?”

Her face scrunched into a grimace, something that Hook found to be quite adorable. “I sort of lied to him about Neal. I told him his dad was a firefighter who died saving people from a burning building.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I would ever see Neal again. And also because I didn’t want my kid to know his father was a lying thief who abandoned me.”

Hook glanced at Bae, still sitting beside his father’s body. He was glowering at them and Hook wondered if he had heard what Emma said, or was simply angry seeing Emma talking to him.

“The lad seems to be quite adaptable. I’m sure once he hears the whole story, he’ll understand.”

“I hope so,” Emma sighed. “The thing is, it’s already complicated enough trying to juggle his time between me and Regina. If Neal is added to the mix, I’ll get to see Henry even less.”

“He does have a right to see the boy, though, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Neal abandoned him, too. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he took off.”

“You don’t think that the two of you, for the boy’s sake…”

“Not a chance!” Emma snapped. “Look, a lot has changed since Neal and I were together. I’ve matured and I’m assuming he has, too. But the only feelings I have for him are…well, they aren’t anything close to love, let’s put it that way.”

Hook nodded, trying to keep the happiness he felt about her declaration from showing on his face.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” she said. “I guess I just needed to blow off some steam, and you happened to be available.”

“I’m very happy to oblige, Swan,” Hook assured her.

Emma shifted her gaze forward and saw they were rapidly approaching Storybrooke. “If you want to sail away once we get Gold’s body off the ship, I won’t stop you,” she said conspiratorially.

“Why, Sheriff, do you intend to set your prisoner free?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I’m just saying that since you don’t have any reason to stay in Storybrooke…”

“Ah, but I do have a reason, Love.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “You do?”

“You promised to join me for dinner, remember?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me you would give up your chance at freedom just to keep our deal?”

“A gentleman keeps his word, and as I told you atop the beanstalk, I’m always a gentleman.”

“You know I’ll have to lock you up as soon as you step foot off this ship.”

“And you know I won’t stay in that cell.”

“Seriously?”

“Pirate,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to dock the ship, Hook, or are you two going to keep making eyes at each other and let it crash into the pier?” Baelfire asked, his tone venomous.

“We don’t make eyes,” Emma said, rolling hers.

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbled.

Hook began giving directions to the two of them, as he guided the ship into a berth. Emma was quick to follow, but Bae purposely lagged, earning him some sharp words from the captain.

Once the ship was tied off, Emma pulled out her phone. “I’m calling my dad. Hopefully, he can arrange transportation for Gold’s body as quietly as possible. I don’t want Belle to find out about his death until I get a chance to tell her.”

Hook and Bae stood on either side of her as she spoke to her father. When she ended the call, she looked from one to the other. “Are you going with me to talk to Belle?” she asked Neal.

“I thought you were going to take me to meet our son.”

“Not tonight. It’s late and he’ll be in bed.”

“But I…”

Emma angrily planted her hands on her hips. “Neal, if you want to meet him, you’re playing by my rules, got it?”

He stared at her for a few moments before dropping his eyes. “Fine. I’ll come with you to talk to Belle and wait until tomorrow to meet Henry.”

Pivoting to face Hook, she said, “You can stay on your ship tonight. If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll deal with you then.”

“I look forward to it, Love,” he smirked.

If the look Baelfire gave him could kill, there would have been another body joining Gold’s on the deck.

*********

Hook lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling of his cabin and replaying the events of the day. It should have been the most satisfying day in his long life. Milah’s murderer was finally dead and the darkness was permanently dispelled. Milah was avenged, her soul could rest. For the first time in hundreds of years, he should be able to sleep peacefully.

Then why was he so restless?

Oddly enough, the stabbing of Rumplestiltskin and his subsequent death weren’t foremost in his thoughts. It was his interactions with Emma Swan - every word, gesture and facial expression - which were keeping him awake. She was under his skin and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt guilty about the direction of his thoughts. Ever since that most horrible of days, he mourned his Milah and promised anew that he would love her until the day he finally died. Sometimes he sought female companionship, but it was only ever for a single night, never with the same woman twice, and never on his ship. He didn’t want to besmirch the love he and Milah had for one another by bringing another into their bed. Now, he was lying here, his mind filled with images of a lass whom he longed to know better and whose heart he had decided to win.

“I’m sorry, Milah,” he whispered into the darkness.

Knowing sleep was going to continue to elude him, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing his flask off of the nightstand, he took a healthy swig and savored the familiar burn down his throat. Then he got up and lit the lantern on his desk. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well read.

He gave up after ten minutes. Sighing, he slammed the book closed, then donned his leather duster and ascended the ladder. He walked the decks of the Jolly Roger, rubbing non-existent smudges from her highly polished railings, double checking that her sails were folded correctly, and trying to convince himself that she was the only love he needed in his life.

The problem was, his heart wasn’t listening to logic.

Sleep didn’t come until an hour before daybreak. Thankfully, he didn’t enter REM sleep, so he wasn’t able to determine which woman would appear to him in his dreams.

*********

It was almost noon when Emma made it back to his ship. “Still here, I see,” she called up to him from where she stood on the pier.

“I assured you I wasn’t going to leave.”

She eyed him critically. “Are you alright? You look like hell.”

“Why, thank you very much, Swan. How kind of you to notice.”

“I thought you would be the happiest person on Earth, now that you’ve finally gotten your revenge.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps the day was too stimulating to allow me to sleep well.” Seeing her about to speak again, he cut in. “Where is Baelfire this morning?”

Emma closed her eyes and shook her head disgustedly. “I already regret bringing him here. He’s driving me crazy, asking to meet Henry.”

“You haven’t introduced the two of them yet, I take it?”

“No. Henry was at Regina’s last night and was off to school before I woke up this morning. Neal thinks I should pull him out of school. I keep telling him I want the chance to talk to Henry first, but he’s really pushing it. I managed to sneak away from him while he and Belle were making arrangements to bury Gold.”

While she was talking, Hook was making his way down the gangplank to stand in front of her. “I have no doubt you will stand your ground against him, Love.”

“I know. It’s just…things were good between me and Henry since Mary Margaret and I got back to Storybrooke. Now I have to tell him I lied to him and I’m afraid he’s going to hate me.”

Hook’s mind flashed to Baelfire’s reaction when he discovered the drawing of Milah in the captain’s quarters. His words were full of hatred and betrayal. To this day, he hadn’t forgiven him. Hook certainly hoped Henry wouldn’t react the same way.

Hoping to divert Emma’s worries, he asked, “How did Belle take the news last night?”

“Just as you would expect; she’s devastated. She was relieved to know that Gold found his son before he died. We didn’t tell her Neal was furious with his father for killing his mother and refused to forgive him. I’m assuming Belle didn’t know Gold’s role in Milah’s death.”

“Do you think if she did, she would have ever become involved with the bloody demon?”

“No, probably not. Belle tries to find the best in everyone, but hearing that bit of news might have been too much for even her.”

“You told her the, uh, the circumstances of his death?”

“Yeah. Let’s just say you’re definitely not her favorite person. She’s still recovering from the gunshot wound you gave her and now you killed her boyfriend.”

Hook grimaced. Thinking of the Dark One as someone’s ‘boyfriend’ turned his stomach. Not wanting to think about Rumplestiltskin anymore, he changed the subject. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning, Swan?”

“I have to take you back to jail. Everyone in town knows you’ve returned. Letting you go free after you shot someone isn’t going to sit well with them.”

“Even though I rid your fair town and the world of the Dark One’s power?”

“The people in town don’t know that yet. Belle isn’t planning to tell them until after Gold is buried. I’m sure the news will leak out soon. Until then, I don’t want Leroy running around town yelling, ‘Killer on the loose! Killer on the loose!’”

Reaching around behind her back, she extracted handcuffs and held them up between them.

“Again?” Hook sighed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

“Standard procedure,” she explained. “Hand and hook behind your back.”

With a dramatic display of reluctance, he did as told. They walked down the pier and onto the beach, then over to the squad car in a moment of deja vu.

On the way to the sheriff’s station, Hook asked, “How is your father, Swan?”

“He has a headache and a good sized lump on his head, but he’ll be fine. You’re not his favorite person, either. In fact, you don’t have many people on your side in this town, which is why I figured you would take the opportunity to leave when I offered it to you.”

“There’s only one person I wish to have on my side, Love. I couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You’re really adamant about having that dinner with me, aren’t you?”

“I would never have allowed the bloody crocodile aboard my ship if you hadn’t agreed to that. I fully intend to collect what is owed to me.”

“You might have to settle for Granny’s takeout in your cell, while I eat at my desk.”

“I believe the deal was dinner on my ship.”

“Yeah, well, you might be locked up for quite a while, depending on what Regina says.”

“What does Regina have to do with it?”

Emma pulled up to the station, put the car in park and turned it off. Twisting in her seat, she said, “We don’t have a court system in Storybrooke, so the mayor decides on punishment for crimes. That’s the way she set it up during the curse and we never changed it. Considering the fact you killed her mother, I doubt Regina will be lenient toward you.”

“Regina and I had…an understanding before the curse was cast. I’m sure she will consider that.”

“What sort of understanding?” Emma asked.

Hook leaned forward, putting his face close to the divider between the front and back seat. “Let’s just say we also had a deal. It took a while, but I finally kept my end of it.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “You made a deal with Regina to kill her mother?”

“The two of them never had what you might call a close mother-daughter relationship.”

“Just when I thought I heard it all,” Emma mumbled, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the car door.

After releasing him from the back seat, she walked him into the station, her hand gripping his elbow. Upon entering the main area, David rose from the desk, strode across the room and punched Hook in the face.

“Dad!” Emma yelled.

“That’s for the last time we met,” David said, shaking his hand slightly.

Hook licked his bloodied lip before replying, “I thought you might be a bit more genial, considering I brought your daughter home safely.”

“You knocked all the genial out of me when you hit me with that crowbar.”

Emma led Hook across the room, removed the cuffs, unlocked the cell and gestured for him to enter. Dabbing at his lip, he walked in, winking at her as he passed. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected the hint of a smile on her face.

She slammed the door closed, then turned as an afterthought. “I almost forgot. Give me your hook.”

“If you want to hold something, Love, I have a perfectly good hand,” he offered slyly, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

She huffed, but he saw the corners of her mouth turn up again. “Just hand over the hook, funny guy.” As he twisted the hook out of the brace, she added, “And while you’re at it, give me whatever you used to pick the lock last time.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I escaped and sailed away, Swan.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave until I kept my part of the bargain.”

“Ah, yes, our dinner together,” he said, glancing toward David as he said it. His reaction to Hook’s statement didn’t disappoint.

“Your what?” he shouted.

“Calm down, Dad,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “I had to make a deal with him so he would agree to bring Gold back to Storybrooke. It’s just dinner.”

“On my ship,” Hook contributed.

“On his ship?!”

Emma threw Hook a frustrated glare, before turning to her father. “I’ll say it again - it’s just dinner. And it’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Regina will have to decide what to do with him. In fact, I need to go to her office to bring her up to speed.”

David checked his watch. “I’m supposed to be over at the cemetery in ten minutes to guard against anyone going in while they’re burying Gold.”

Emma sighed. “We probably shouldn’t leave Hook alone. Can you get Leroy to come over and keep an eye on him again?”

“Is that really necessary?” Hook asked.

David narrowed his eyes at Hook for several seconds before picking up the phone.

Turning back to Hook, Emma stated, “Guess that answers your question. Now, hand it over.”

With a dramatic sigh, he passed his hook through the bars into her waiting hand. She accepted it, then held up her other hand. He threw her his most charming smile, but she just tilted her head and speared him with another meaningful glare. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and removed the long hairpin.

As she accepted it, she asked, “Why do you have this thing, anyway?”

“As you can imagine, managing all of these buttons one-handed is quite difficult, so I use that to help pull them through the buttonholes.”

“I think you missed a few,” she murmured.

“Ah, so you’ve noticed,” he cheeked.

She turned away, but not before Hook saw the blush that colored her cheeks. With a satisfied smirk, he crossed the cell and took a seat on the cot.

David left before Leroy arrived, giving Hook some time alone with Emma. “Do you have a preference of what to eat for our dinner together, Swan?”

“You’re awfully presumptuous, thinking you’ll be out of jail anytime soon.”

“I did Regina a favor by killing Rumplestiltskin. I have a feeling she’s going to take that into consideration when she decides my fate.”

“People in town love and respect Belle. They won’t be happy if you get off scot-free for shooting her.”

Hook scuffed his boots back and forth on the floor. “I do feel bad for shooting the lass. I’m glad I only wounded her.”

“At least you’re remorseful,” Emma remarked.

Before Hook could respond, Leroy burst into the office. “I’m here, Sister,” he blustered. Walking straight up to the bars of the cell, he spouted, “No funny business. I’m watching you, Pirate.”

Hook stood and sauntered over to stand in front of him, “Yes, Dwarf. That should deter me from any malfeasance.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Emma said.

Leroy and Hook continued glaring at each other for several seconds, until Leroy broke eye contact to say, “Charming didn’t tell me why he isn’t able to be here. Is he out on a call?”

Emma and Hook exchanged a quick look. “Um, yeah. Something like that,” Emma mumbled vaguely.

“Well, as long as one of you is back by dinner time. Granny will run out of bacon for my burger if I get there too late.”

“It looks like you could afford to forgo dinner now and then,” Hook muttered.

“Behave yourself, Hook,” Emma cut in before Leroy got a chance to respond.

After she left, Leroy sat down and began swiveling in the chair, keeping an eye on Hook. “So, I’m assuming you followed Sheriff Swan to New York after you knocked out her father?”

“You must be the smart dwarf,” Hook said, resuming his spot on the cot.

“Then how are the two of you back, but there’s no sign of Gold? Did you leave him in New York?”

“I have no idea of the Dark One’s location.” He wasn’t technically lying. The darkness dissipated, but he didn’t know where it went.

Leroy crossed his arms over his chest. “You expect me to believe that?”

Hook shrugged. “It makes me no difference what you believe. I went to New York to ensure Swan’s safety and as you can see, I accomplished that objective.”

Leroy leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sweet on the sheriff?”

Hook very deliberately laid down and turned toward the wall, his back facing the dwarf.

“Because if you are, you’re never going to get her,” Leroy continued. “Her parents and most of the town won’t allow it. She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.”

Hook closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep so he wouldn’t have to listen to the grumpy man any longer. It didn’t work. Even though Leroy stopped talking, the last words he said kept replaying themselves over and over in Hook’s mind.

She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.

*********

Word of Gold’s death did indeed leak out, and soon the entire town was aware that they were free of the Dark One forever. Besides expressing their condolences to Belle, they didn’t show any signs of sadness over his loss.

Neal was greeted with trepidation. Granny reluctantly offered him a room at the boarding house and reassured the townspeople that she would keep an eye on him. If he showed any inkling of being like his father, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her crossbow.

Regina stopped in at the sheriff’s station the day after the ship arrived back from New York. After telling David she needed to speak to Hook privately, she stepped in front of his cell and glared at him through the bars.

“Your Majesty,” he drawled. “Or should I say ‘Madam Mayor’?”

“Is it true you’re responsible for my mother’s death, Hook?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Word gets around. Now answer the question.”

“Aye, Love. I finally carried out your noble request.”

“Once the curse was cast, the request was null and void.”

“I wasn’t made aware of any alteration in plans or any changes in your feelings toward your mother. Just because I didn’t do it when you initially sent me to do so, the result is still the same. Now don’t try to tell me you grieve her passing, or that you would have welcomed her to Storybrooke with open arms.”

Regina’s mouth tightened into a straight line before she answered, “You know I didn’t want her here.”

He gave a slight nod. “That’s correct, so I did you a favor. And another by killing Gold. I’d say you owe me, Your Majesty.”

“I suppose you think I should give you some huge reward,” she growled. “What’s your price, Hook?”

He rose from the cot and slowly moved to stand in front of her. “My freedom will do nicely.”

Regina’s perfectly groomed eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s all you want? That doesn’t sound like the greedy pirate I know.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “My life’s goal has been met. I have enough doubloons to last me for another three hundred years. What more could I possibly need?”

She crossed her arms and studied him. “If I grant your freedom, I assume you will leave town.”

“Never assume anything.”

“Why would you stay?”

Hook studied his fingernails. “I don’t believe my plans are any of your business.”

“I’m the mayor of Storybrooke. Everything is my business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You might control your townspeople, but…”

“I brought lunch, Hook.” He looked over Regina’s shoulder to see Emma coming into the room, holding a brown paper bag aloft.

Regina heaved an exaggerated sigh and turned to look over her shoulder. “Didn’t your idiot father tell you I wanted to speak to Hook without being interrupted?”

“I haven’t seen David,” Emma replied coolly. “I’ve been out on patrol all morning. I’m happy to report no one is breaking any laws.”

“No one except him,” Regina said, jerking her head towards Hook.

Emma set the bag of food on the desk. “Well, he’s locked up, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him.”

“Apparently he broke out once before and he’s a pirate. Locking him up doesn’t guarantee he won’t break out.”

“He doesn’t have any reason to break out this time, do you, Hook?”

“Alas, no. All of my objectives have been met.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Regina said.

“You needn’t worry, Madam Mayor. Your sheriff is quite efficient,” Hook said. “She particularly enjoys using her handcuffs on me, don’t you Swan?”

He was satisfied to see her cheeks turn pink. She changed the subject by asking, “Have you decided on his punishment yet?”

“Perhaps she’ll sentence me to house arrest with you. Do you have a spare bed? If not, I’m willing to share.”

Regina looked back and forth between them, her mouth set in a firm line. “Miss Swan, if you don’t mind, I haven't finished speaking with your boyfriend.”

Hook suppressed a chuckle, as Emma’s mouth dropped open. “My boyfriend? Hook? What’s your problem, Regina?”

“My problem,” Regina spat, “is that you’re impeding my job.”

“Fine,” Emma shot back. “I’ll be in the other room, eating lunch. When you finally finish your job, let me know.” Picking up the sack, she turned on her heel and went into the small inner office, slamming the door behind her.

Seeing her stand up to Regina filled Hook with pride and more than a little desire. Emma Swan was fiery and fierce, just the way he liked his women.

With effort, he turned his attention back to Regina. She was drumming the manicured fingernails of her right hand on her left bicep. “I’m willing to bet one of your reasons for remaining in Storybrooke involves Miss Swan.”

“I would have never guessed you were one for gambling, Your Majesty.”

She glared at him as Hook stared back at her unflinchingly, plastering a bored look on his face. After nearly a minute, she called loudly, “Sheriff Swan, come out here!”

Emma emerged, chewing and rubbing her hands on her jeans. “You bellowed?”

“I do not bellow,” Regina remarked snarkily. “I’ve come to a decision about this prisoner. He needs to be punished for the attempt he made on Ms. French’s life. Therefore, I sentence him to one month in jail. By that time, maybe he’ll be ready to board his ship, sail away and be some other realm’s problem.”

With that, she spun around and walked out the door, heels clicking on the cement floor.

Emma watched her go, then turned to face Hook. “Looks like you’re going to be our guest for a while longer.”

“Aye, but at least my jailer is a welcome sight to behold.”

“You told me you won’t stay in this cell. Do I need to make sure someone is here to watch you around the clock? Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to chase you down every other day.”

“As tempting as it is to have you running after me, I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not escape.”

She narrowed her eyes as she studied him to detect any trace of deceit. Finding none, she said, “Don’t make me regret trusting you, Hook.”

He wrapped his hand around the bars of the cell. “You’re going to take my advice and try something new, eh Swan?”

Hooking her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans, she shrugged. “You went all the way to New York to make sure I was safe, and didn’t leave when I gave you the chance. I guess you’ve earned my trust.”

Hood couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. The fact that she trusted him was definitely a step in the right direction toward winning her heart. He reached through the bars and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, enjoying the silky feel of it against his calloused skin. “I’m very happy to hear that, Love.”

She was just opening her mouth to reply, when Baelfire entered the room. Hook’s eyes shifted to the other man, causing Emma to look over her shoulder. As soon as she saw Neal, she stiffened.

Bae stopped short when he saw how close the couple was standing. Then he saw that Hook had a lock of Emma’s hair wrapped around his finger and his face turned crimson.

“What’s going on here, Ems?” he blustered.

“Nothing,” she answered tightly.

“Doesn’t look that way to me. Looks like the fucking pirate is trying to seduce you, just like he did my mother.”

“Give it a rest, Neal. He’s behind bars and that’s where he has to stay for a month.”

“A month?” he shouted. “That’s all he gets for killing my father?”

“Actually,” Hook began, “that sentence is for shooting Belle French. Regina felt I did the town a favor by ridding it of the Dark One.”

“What the fuck? You’re just going to get away with murder?” Neal raged.

“Oh, come on, Neal,” Emma groaned. “You’re the one who said to just let your dad die. Now you want to act like the grieving son? I don’t buy it.”

He walked over to stand in front of the cell, looking back and forth between Hook and Emma. Hook untangled his finger from her hair and pulled his hand back. As much as he wanted to smirk at the angry man, he decided it was best not to add fuel to the fire. He didn’t want to put Emma in an even more uncomfortable position.

Bae turned his back toward Hook and tried to step between Emma and the bars. “Isn't it about time for Henry to come home from school, Ems?”

She heaved a sigh and turned to look at the clock on the wall. “School lets out in half-an-hour. Once my dad gets back to the station, I’ll leave to go pick Henry up.”

“Cool. I’ll come with you.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and fixed him with a fierce scowl. Hook was quite happy not to be on the receiving end of it. “No, you will not. I’ve already told you that I need to talk to Henry first. I want to prepare him to meet you.”

“What’s there to prepare? You just say, ‘Henry, this is your father.’ What’s so hard about that?”

“For fuck’s sake, Neal! He thinks his father is dead!”

“Why the hell would he think that?” Neal yelled.

“Because that’s what I told him! I said you were a firefighter who died as a hero…”

Neal leaned forward until his face was mere inches away from hers. “What the fuck, Emma? Why would you do something so idiotic?”

Emma didn’t back away from him as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you rather I told him that his dad was a thief and a liar who abandoned me and let me go to jail for a crime he committed?”

When Hook saw Neal grasp Emma’s arms, he had enough. “Let go of her, Bae!” he demanded, reaching through the bars to grab the other man’s jacket.

“Stay out of this, Hook!” Baelfire shouted, jerking away from Hook’s grip, letting go of Emma at the same time. “She’s not yours to protect!”

“She’s not yours, either!” Hook shot back.

“That’s enough!” Emma exclaimed. “Neal, you need to leave. After I’ve had a chance to talk to Henry, I’ll call you. That is, if he wants to meet you today. If he needs more time to process everything, that’s what he’ll get. And you will agree to it, or you won’t meet him at all. Is that clear?”

“I came all this way and he’s my son. You can’t keep me from seeing him.”

“I can and I will if you don’t back off. Go back to your room at the boarding house and wait for me to call.”

Hook watched carefully to see what Baelfire would do next. If he continued to defy and bully Emma, Hook would find some way to get out of the cell and go to her aid.

After several more moments of glowering at Emma, Bae finally stomped out of the office, nearly running into David, who was on his way in.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“He’s demanding to see Henry and I’m making him wait. I need to talk to Henry first.”

David took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “I can understand his impatience. He just found out he has a son; it’s only natural to be anxious to meet him.”

“You’re taking his side?” Emma asked.

“I didn’t realize you two are on opposite sides. I thought you were, um…”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Do you think we’re together?”

“Well, you do have a child together and you just found each other again after so many years.”

She put her hands on her hips. “If I had my way, I would have never seen him again.”

David’s jaw dropped. “But Mary Margaret and I thought the two of you…”

“Well, you thought wrong!” she spouted, then angrily grabbed her keys and pushed past him.

He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door through which she just disappeared. Almost to himself, he murmured, “I’m so confused. Why wouldn’t she want to…”

“Be with Baelfire?” Hook interrupted. “Have you ever asked your daughter about the father of her child?”

David turned around, the look on his face making it clear the answer to Hook’s question was ‘no’. Instead, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

“Perhaps not, but Emma did share with me what happened between them, and let’s just say she has good reason not to want to be with him.”

“Why would she tell you and not her mother and I?”

Hook shrugged. “I think she felt a bit…trapped by the whole situation of him coming to Storybrooke and she wanted to share her side of the story with someone. I just happened to be available.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“Not physically, but that’s all I’m going to say. It’s not my story to tell.”

David eyed him critically for several seconds, then stepped closer to the cell. “Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook. She’s never gonna like you.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, how could she? You’re nothing but a pirate.” With those words, he spun on his heel and walked away.

The cocky smirk on Hook’s face faded as he watched David go. For the second time in two days, he had been told that Emma Swan would never be with him because he wasn’t good enough for her. The one consolation he had was that neither time, it was Emma who said it. He would have to cling to the hope that she didn’t feel the same way.

*********

Hook didn’t expect to see Emma any more that day, so when she came into the station soon after he finished eating the meal Granny provided, he was pleasantly surprised. However, seeing the agitated state she was in, his pleasure soon turned to concern.

“I thought I was finishing out this shift,” David said.

“I know, but I figured you would want to spend the evening with Mary Margaret, and since Henry is staying at Regina’s…”

“What? Why is he doing that? I thought you were introducing him to Neal.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say things didn’t go as planned,” she said sadly.

“Emma, if you need to…”

“Look, Dad,” she sighed, “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, okay? Maybe by then, I’ll be ready to tell you what happened.”

Hook thought David was going to argue with her, but after a few moments, he blew out a heavy sigh and said, “Okay. I’ll see you at home. Be careful.” After kissing her forehead, he gave Hook a warning look, then left.

Emma dropped into a chair, threw her head back and groaned.

“Alright there, Swan?” Hook asked.

She was motionless for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she sat up and put her head in her hands. “Not really. Henry is very pissed at me for lying to him. He had no interest in meeting Neal and insisted on going to Regina’s because he doesn’t want to be around me. Then when I called Neal, he went off on me, saying it was all my fault his son refused to meet him.”

“I’m sorry, Love.”

She didn’t reply. He felt helpless seeing her sitting there, looking so defeated.

When she finally stood up, she paced back and forth in front of his cell. “Why did I ever think I could do this? I know nothing about being a mom. I probably screwed him up for life. First I gave him away, then I lied to him about his father…”

“Emma, stop,” Hook said firmly.

She stood still, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not. It sounds to me like you made a very courageous decision by giving him up for adoption. Bae abandoned you and left you with very little choice. As far as telling him Baelfire was dead, you had no idea Henry would have a chance to meet him someday. You wanted to spare him the pain of knowing his father was a bloody coward, just like his own father before him. In my opinion, there was nothing wrong with telling Henry he was a hero. It was far kinder than the truth.”

“He was so angry,” she whispered hoarsely. “He may never forgive me.”

Hook’s heart ached for her. “Come here, Love,” he said softly, stretching his hand out through the bars.

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Emma, look at me,” he coaxed.

Slowly, she raised her eyes. Even more slowly, she reached forward to place her hand in his. He gave a little tug to pull her closer. When she was near enough, he attempted to put his arms around her, frustrated that the cell bars were between them.

“This is stupid,” she said, turning her back and walking away. He almost groaned in frustration, until he realized she was pulling a set of keys out of the desk drawer. She approached the cell again, hesitating briefly before unlocking the door. After swinging it open, she stood uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot.

Hook stepped through the doorway and into her space. Locking eyes with her, he silently asked permission and upon receiving it, gently pulled her into his arms.

At first, her body was stiff and unyielding, but as he rubbed his hand and wrist up and down her back, she gradually relaxed and let him comfort her. “You’re a good mother, Emma. Henry knows that, and he will forgive you.”

“How can you be so sure?” she mumbled into his chest.

“Because I know first-hand how hard it is to stay away from you.” He heard her scoff lightly, but she didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how long she let him hold her, but he relished every second.

Finally pulling away from him, she said, “Thank you, Hook.”

Using his finger to lift her chin, he looked into her beautiful jade eyes and requested, “Will you please call me Killian, Love?”

She blinked, then gave him a small smile. “Okay…Killian.”

*********

Thank you for reading! The final chapter is probably about half written, so hopefully it won't be as long a wait for it.

Tagging:

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

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

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

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

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

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

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

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

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

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[astro-lmk-enjoyer]

Mine if I info dump about the start/lore of an au I made 4 hours ago?

Good, anyway…

Let’s start with the uncertainties, it might be cannon up until s5? Not sure. And I don’t have a name for it yet, so far I’ve got:

As for what happens:

After a while of MK obsessing over Red Son he decides that if Red Son wasn’t noticing his obvious (seriously obvious, like even Wukong noticed) hints then he would MAKE Red Son need him. He cursed/poisoned Red Son’s tea that day. After drinking their tea’s MK, Red Son and Mei went to the anti-gravity arcade for some fun. Red Son began to feel woozy, Mei and Red Son thought it was because he had never done anti-gravity or super energetic stuff before but we all know the real reason why. :)

But in the morning it had only gotten worse and now Red Son had a bad fever and a cough. When Princess Iron Fan (PIF) finally figured out how to use Red Son’s phone, she called Mei demanding to know every detail of what they had done the previous night to find out who had gotten Red sick and to obliterate them.

After a thorough investigation they found out no one who had been in the anti-gravity arcade in the past 48 hrs had been sick, so how did he get sick?

So you know how earlier I said that the tea was ‘cursed/poisoned’ well the longer Red Son is away from MK the more sick he will get… until he dies.

A few days later MK and Mei go to visit Red Son and he’s REALLY not doing good… he is super tired, drowsy and drained and is sick a lot but after a couple hours with MK and Mei he starts to feel better. Which Red Son’s parents take as a good sign and kick MK and Mei out so Red Son can recover properly without interference, which props Red Son to start getting worse again. PIF and Demon Bull King (DBK) notice this and conduct their own little experiment over the next month. Having Mei and MK round at their house separately or having one of them distracted out side the room to see how far each of them can go from Red Son before he starts to get worse.

(btw MK has the antidote in a glass vile in a necklace that he always wears under his shirt :3)

They figure out that something to do with MK is keeping Red Son well and stoping him from getting more sick. They keep MK there for a bit longer until it’s night and Mei had already gone home, and MK says the night at the Demon Bull family’s home, though he is guarded all night by bull clones so he can’t try anything to do with taking advantage of Red Son’s weakened state.

The only other bit I have is that once Red Son is better he basically go’s where ever MK go’s and sleeps in his apartment, he also start to get more comfortable with MK and is a little clingy, which is what MK wanted to happen, now Red Son can’t even leave his side >:3

Look at what I’ve made world >:)

Song inspiration ⬇️

= disease by Lady Gaga