#also this way it makes more sense for them to p much disappear off the face of the earth for a bit

[southfarthing]

as tasty as the crispy amrod version of events is, i feel like it lessens the emotional blow and the shock of fëanor's death. but then amrod and amras both being fine and hardly involved in most of the story also doesn't do it for me. so a compromise: amrod was hoping to get away in the boat, but only after trying and failing to convince amras to go back home with him – amras, who disagreed and said very hurtful words but did not rat his twin out.

and then when the ships are set ablaze, amras is frozen for a moment with fear at what might happen (and if amrod dies, alone and unknown, is that amras's own fault for not telling anyone?). he runs and desperately searches and calls for amrod, his voice breaking as he cries through the smoke, and his brothers watch with confusion that slowly turns to horrified understanding.

they pull amrod out alive but badly burnt. fëanor is unseated and anxious, but he remains tight-lipped. amras still says his "fell and fey are you become" line, but this time as he helps to hold amrod upright. amrod, who is so heavily bandaged and in such pain that he cannot speak in his own defense, can hardly see, hear. he knows it took his own near-death for amras to take his side, and he doesn't know if that should hurt him more or bring him some relief, at least.

not that it matters. they can't turn back anymore, and amrod has paid the price of trying.

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: '𝖩𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖱𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗑' ༄࿔ H.H.

⤷ Massages | Hand Kink | Breath Play

♱ word count: 2.7k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, “happy ending” massage, hand kink, fingering, choking, multiple orgasms (just 2), unprotected p in v, creampie

♱ notes: honestly really tame compared to the others... i was trying so hard not to make him into mean dom lol ALSO im posting this really late in the day compared to the others so i apologize lol

not proofread thoroughly (sorry hehe)

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

Your head is throbbing and your eyes are drying up the longer you sit at your desk. Not a single concept from the last 2 units you read had made sense in your head, and you could barely remember the last sentence you just read.

Thanks to the constant stress you had been under from school, you had a horrible headache and couldn’t stop your leg from bouncing. You needed a break. And luckily for you, a new spa had opened up in your area that was having a “Grand Opening Sale.”

Which is what inevitably led you to your current state; lying face down on top of the comfortable padded table and staring down into the dark brown wood of the floor. Your masseur, a beautiful man named ‘Hyunjin’ had his back to you while his equally beautiful hands jumped around between warming up the oil and putting on music.

The snap of a bottle cap opening was heard and he soon drizzled warmed oil all over your back. You sighed happily at the warmth alone, but even more so when his long fingers began to smear the slippery substance all over your skin that he could get to.

And just like that, he worked his way around your achy body. His beautiful hands worked out each and every knot. The initial awkwardness had completely disappeared and was replaced with exhaustion as he worked his way around your torso muscles like some sort of muscle angel sent from above.

His hand worked wonders on your tense body and the warmed oil helped with breaking down your tension. So much so that you found yourself getting too relaxed. Too comfortable and too attracted to the man above you who was currently easing your body into what you swore was some sort of heaven.

Between the very attractive man behind you easing away the last few months' worth of stress and the constant reminder of his godly hands all over your body, your whole being starts to ache with need. So much so that your legs shake from the way you have to stop them from pressing together.

Your mind wanders on its own and the sound of his breathing is enough to set you off. He gets to a particularly rough spot on your back and you bite your lip hard in order to hide the sexual moan that was about to leave your mouth.

A huff leaves his lips and you’re unsure of what context it's under, though you’re quick to learn that he’s very aware of your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing and eggs you on further, moving his hands up to your shoulders and squeezing the flesh there extra tenderly and rubbing circles into the nape of your neck.

You start to wonder if his fingers are also this talented with- “Can you flip over for me?”

“Huh?” His husky voice hits you right in your pussy and it takes a moment to process what he says. He tilts his head playfully when you look back at him and repeats himself again, eyes staring into your soul as he does so. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded slowly, waiting for him to turn around to flip your body.

Once you give him the ok, he turns back around to you and meets your eyes, smiling sweetly as he moves to stand over you. He wastes no time and sets his hands on your legs, working his way up slowly but surely as he continues his job and his goal.

And that goal would be exactly what led his hands to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there even after he had worked his way through all the knots. He smiles to himself when your eyes squeeze shut and your legs shake with that movement, so he does it again. This time much higher up on your thigh.

Your legs finally squeeze shut, trapping his hands between your legs and you gasp. He laughs to himself when you spit out an apology and shakes his head, rubbing your thigh with his thumb as he keeps his hands where they are, even after you release them.

“Is this ok?” He stares into your eyes and waits patiently for a response, not daring to make any more moves while he waits. You think for a moment as you stare back into his eyes and eventually nod, spreading your legs just the slightest bit more and waiting for him to make his next move.

He throws you a sexy smirk and proceeds with his movements, now growing bold enough to slip them over the small towel that covers your lower half. One of his long fingers traces around your hole, dipping in just the tiniest amount, and pulls back out to trace your clit with your wetness.

“So wet already.” He chuckles and leans forward, planting his free hand by your face as he leans in to kiss your cheek. As he does, he inserts his finger inside of you. It moves around expertly, curving just slightly into your walls looking for your G-spot, and thrusting at a speed that was too slow and just enough at the same time.

“Please, more…” You whine and squirm, looking up at him under your lashes with puppy eyes in hopes that it would convince him. But he doesn’t need much convincing when you look so pretty below him. So he listens immediately and inserts a second finger.

They work in tandem to build you up, finally finding your G-spot and curling into it repeatedly while now moving at a faster pace, one that’s less torturous but still doesn’t feel like enough. You spread your legs further apart and lean up to rest on your elbows, your forehead almost knocking his in the process.

He laughs under his breath at your eagerness and continues his ministrations as he holds eye contact with you, eyes dark and a sexy smile on his face. Your desperateness is adorable to him and he can’t help but give in, adding a third finger while keeping up his pace.

“What got you so riled up, Angel?” He tilts his head at you and leans forward more, pushing his forehead against yours. You moan desperately and grind your hips forward, sucking his fingers in even deeper. “Answer me and I’ll give you everything you want.” You look up at him from under your eyelashes and clench at the lust-dripping look he gives you.

“I just think your hands and your fingers are really pretty…” One of his eyebrows perks up in curiosity before a giant grin spreads across his face.

“Yeah?” His voice drops a few octaves and his biceps flex as he shoves his fingers into the knuckles. “These fingers?” He punctuates his sentence with a tight curl of his fingers against your G-spot and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He watches with a smile as you throw your head back and your jaw slacks. He leans forward and takes advantage of the new space, leaving wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck.

He’s careful not to leave marks as he does so, even pulling away sometimes to coo in your ear and tell you to keep your eyes on his hand or else he’ll stop. And you obey, eyes glued to his wrist and watching the way his veins pop out each time he curls his fingers. It makes you clench more around him and you can feel your orgasm building up even faster now.

“You wanna cum, Angel?” His deep voice makes your jaw drop and your leg attempt to twitch closed. His smile never falters but he tsks when you don’t answer the question. He bottoms out his fingers all the way and stops all movements, eyes glued to yours as he repeats his question. 

“Y-Yes! I wanna cum, please-” His fingers pick up their pace immediately and he fixes his posture, freeing up his left hand in favor of reaching between your legs. His thumb messily plays with your clit as he fingerfucks you and you keen.

It doesn’t take long for you to unravel, your gummy walls sucking him in further and your clit throbbing as you finish with a loud moan of his name. He chuckles and removes his thumb, moving his hand up to your mouth and shoving his thumb into your cheek.

“Shhhh… We don’t want anybody getting suspicious, do we?” You don’t bother replying. Instead, you throw your head back and grind your hips forward as he continues to ride out your orgasm. Once your legs start to close around his torso, he eases his fingers out of you, reveling in the way they shimmer from your release.

His touch leaves you completely as his hand rests on his upper thigh, the other one moving up to his face where he sucks his pointer finger clean. You watch through fluttering eyelids as he closes his eyes and moans around his finger, even going as far as to make an obscene smacking noise as he releases it.

Your eyes meet again and he smiles before licking his lips and tilting his head at you. “Be good and open your mouth for me.” You comply in an instant and his lip twitches, he has to bite his lip to hide his smirk.

He holds eye contact with you as he reaches forward. Once his hand is close enough, his eyes move down to watch his middle and ring finger tracing the outline of your lips. The sight of him paints your lips with your own release, giving you makeshift lip gloss if you will, makes him bite his lip.

Butterflies grow in your stomach at the sight and you take it a step further; leaning in, grabbing his wrist, and wrapping your lips around those same fingers. His smile falters and his eyes look to yours only to be met with an intense stare back. One that drives him absolutely mad and makes his dick twitch in his khakis.

He moans when his fingertips hit your throat and he feels his control leaving his body. A quiet curse leaves his mouth as he pulls his hand away from you, using the now “clean” hand to wrap around your throat as the other pops open the button on his pants.

“You’re so fucking hot- I need to be inside of you right now or else I’ll die.” You let out a giggle that eventually gets interrupted by a moan as he tightens his grip on you. Then again when he spins you and pulls you to the edge of the table before tapping his cock against your folds.

“Prettiest Angel I’ve ever seen… Gonna make you mine, baby. You want that?” You open your mouth to respond and he pushes his tip in at the same time, hand squeezing just the slightest amount more as he pushes inch by inch in.

He’s long and it feels like he’s in your guts when he finally bottoms out, his balls resting flat against your ass. The hand around your throat finally loosens its hold and you gasp for air, head throbbing as you catch your breath.

“H-Hyunjin…”

“Angel- You okay?” You nod and he simply hums in response leaning forward and unintentionally spreading your legs further so he can push his lips against yours. Almost instinctively you open your mouth for him and you can’t hold back a moan when his tongue pushes in.

He takes his time kissing you, allowing you some time to adjust to his size as he slowly grinds his hips against yours. His hands caress your arms soothingly before one rests on your neck, not quite squeezing but just resting there. The other traces your body, moving from your arm down your waist before finally stopping at your hips where he squeezes the flesh appreciatively. 

He squeezes one more time before planting his hand on the table next to your ass and reluctantly pulls away from your lips. Your own hands rest on his shoulders and your nails dig into his soft skin as he starts moving his hips.

“Give it to me, please” He moans and rolls his head back, hips stuttering as he processes what you’re requesting. He sighs deeply and sharply thrusts into you before shaking his head.

“Mm-mm… I’ll fuck your brains out next time. Just relax, Angel. I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow.” You whine loudly and pout up at him but nod your head when the hand on your neck cups your cheek.

His lips push against yours again as he caresses your cheek, and when he pulls away a smile paints his features. He can’t deny you when you look up at him so desperately, so he allows some leeway. His hips start moving, not as slowly as he wanted but just enough to make you shiver deliciously.

He fucks into you with sharp, yet thorough thrusts all while having the cutest smile on his face. And contrary to his facial expression, he’s mixing your guts around each time his hips meet yours, and his hand returns to your neck where it rips the air out of your lungs.

Quiet, breathy gasps leave your mouth as he fucks you silly, not even needing to pound you roughly to make you see stars. It makes you dizzy as you briefly think about this “next time” he speaks about. If this isn’t him fucking you dumb then you can’t wait to see what he has in store for you.

But none of that matters now. Not when he uses the hold on your neck to push you down onto the table. He has to release you to do so and traces his hand up your torso right after. The towel on your chest is long gone, half hanging off the table as it squeaks from his movements, and gives him free reign to rub your nipples softly.

Then his hand moves back up to your neck, this time only ghosting over it before you hear a choked command to “Open.” You do open your lips, but it’s only to ask what he means. However, you don’t get that far.

The same fingers you sucked clean minutes ago thrust suddenly into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue and making you gag. He laughs and apologizes, pulling them out just enough to not cause you to gag again.

He licks his lips as you suck the digits, swirling your tongue around them in a way he can only imagine you would do to his cock. The imagery of that alone is enough to push him closer to the edge, so he drags you to your own with him.

“Cum for me again- ok, Angel?” The fingers in your mouth pull out and rush to your clit where he rubs back and forth furiously. “Cum for me and we can get out of here.” He forces a smile through your tight cunt’s incessant sucking of him and quickens his thrusts.

Although sloppy and not as calculated as before, he manages to push you to cum alongside him, both his hips and his hands faltering as you milk him dry. He cums with a pretty moan, face scrunching up in pleasure and his still-clothed body shaking through it.

You’re not faring any better, your own face scrunched up and your body twitching from the overstimulation that starts to wrack through your body. You’re lucky he pulls away when he did because your body starts to tremble as he uses you to ride his orgasm out.

“You okay?” He’s still catching his breath but he pulls out and leans forward, his softening cock resting against your thigh as he places kisses all over your collarbone.

“Mhm…” You're not sure if you are even on the same planet as you were an hour ago, but he seems to be taking care of it as he helps you come down. His hands caressing your sides all over and his lips only leaving your skin to move to a new spot.

“Let’s get you out of here, yeah? My shift was supposed to end once this… ‘massage’ was over, so let me treat you.” He giggles at your mindless nod and cups your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb as he waits for you to come down.

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

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[joelmillerisapunk]

How quickly can you take your clothes off, pop quiz

Joel Miller x reader

Masterlist

Wordcount

Summary: The enemies to lovers/one bed/forced close proximity/light grumpy x sunshine/patrol partner fic no one asked for.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, grumpy joel, reader is called "the new kid", reader has breasts but no physical description. It's more tension filled fluffy bickering than smut, but I couldn't help adding a little drop of it in.

Notes: I've been so sick this weekend and was strictly supposed to read fic, but this idea came to me anyway, so I queued it up. I hope you like them as much as I loved writing this. Ty @saradika-graphics , what would we all do without you?

Evening, Day 1

As you fasten the straps of your worn-out boots, the reality of your first patrol with Joel Miller, the cornerstone of Jackson's defence, settles in. You've heard stories about his exploits, and you're determined to prove your worth, that you're more than just another mouth to feed.

The morning air is crisp as you meet Joel by the gate. He grunts a greeting, his eyes scanning the perimeter with practiced vigilance. You fall into step beside him, the weight of your rifle a comfort against your shoulder.

"So, where are we headed?" you ask, trying to break the ice.

Joel's response is terse as he nods in front of himself. "Out there."

You nod, swallowing your disappointment and try again. "So, Joel, I've been studying the maps, and I think if we—"

"Save your breath. We'll check the traps, clear any infected, and get back before dark. That's the plan."

You nod, a little deflated but still hopeful. "Got it.” You press your lips together, taking his words to heart. 

The rest of the patrol is silent, save for the crunch of leaves underfoot and the occasional direction from Joel. You're vigilant, alert, and when you spot a tripwire, you quickly signal to him, earning a curt nod of approval. But upon returning to Jackson, you go to sign out in the patrol book, and your brows furrow at the entry Joel has already made. 

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: All clear minus the constant chatterbox that seems to think their voice is a homing beacon for every clicker in a ten-mile radius. - J

You didn't even talk that much. You roll your eyes and close the book a little too hard.

Evening, Day 2

You meet Joel at the gate once more, you notice a flicker of surprise in his eyes when you simply nod in greeting, foregoing the usual stream of words. He grunts in response. You're determined to show him you're not just the “constant chatterbox" he'd written about. You've spent the day replaying his words in your head, using them as fuel to prove your mettle.

—

"Up ahead, there's a blind spot by that old truck. Cover me while I check it out." 

You nod, taking up position without hesitation. 

As he disappears behind the rusted vehicle, your heart pounds in your chest. Every sound is amplified in the stillness of the evening—the distant hoot of an owl, the rustle of leaves in the wind, and then a low growl that sends a chill down your spine. An infected emerges from the underbrush, its eyes locked onto Joel's last known location. Without missing a beat, you take aim and fire—a clean shot that drops it instantly. 

Joel reappears just as quickly as he vanished, his expression one of mild surprise at your swift action. "Nice shot," he grunts begrudgingly before moving on as if nothing happened.  A small victory for you; perhaps he's not entirely immune to your efforts after all. 

The adrenaline from the encounter with the infected is still coursing through your veins as you and Joel continue your patrol. His rare compliment echoes in your mind, fueling your determination to prove yourself further. 

As you make your way back to Jackson, you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. You've not only held your own but also protected Joel's back when it counted. 

Back at the settlement, you hurry to the patrol book before Joel can beat you to it.

Patrol with Grumpy McGrumpface complete. All infected cleared. Check back in a few days. And for the record, this chatterbox saved our asses tonight. Maybe next time, you'll  remember to check your blind spots—and your attitude.

You add a little smiley face next to your entry, a playful jab at his perpetual grumpiness.

As you walk away from the book, you glance back to see Joel reading your entry, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It's a small crack in his tough exterior, and it gives you hope that there's more to Joel Miller than he lets on.

Evening, Day 3

The air is tense as you approach the gate, the familiar silhouette of Joel Miller waiting for you. There's a certain expectation hanging between you two, a silent challenge that has been building since your last patrol. You greet him with a nod, the same flicker of surprise in his eyes, quickly replaced by his usual stoic expression.

As you set out, the landscape feels different, almost as if it's holding its breath. You're more attuned to the subtle shifts in the wind, the way the light filters through the trees, and the distant sounds that could signal danger. You move with a newfound confidence, your steps sure and quiet, your senses heightened.

We're going to sweep the old high school today," Joel says, breaking the silence. It's the most he's volunteered about the day's plan, and you take it as a sign of trust, however small.

You acknowledge his words with a simple, "Understood," and follow him towards the dilapidated building that looms in the distance. The structure has seen better days, its windows shattered, the playground overtaken by nature, a haunting reminder of a world that once was.

As you approach, you signal for Joel to hold position while you scout ahead. You move with caution, your eyes scanning for any signs of movement. The silence is broken only by the creaking of a swing, swaying gently in the breeze.

You clear the perimeter, finding no immediate threats, and signal Joel to advance. Together, you methodically clear the classrooms, the gymnasium, and the cafeteria. 

As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the desolate high school, you and Joel finish securing the premises. The tension between you has simmered down to a low hum. It's eerie how the remnants of childhood laughter still linger among the abandoned desks and faded educational posters. You can't help but wonder what became of the students and teachers who once filled these halls with life.

"All clear," you report, as you finish sweeping the last room, your voice echoing through the empty halls.

Joel grunts in agreement, his eyes lingering on the swing set outside, its melancholic creaking a stark contrast to the silence that now fills the school. "Let's head back. It's getting dark."

You nod, but as you turn to leave, a sudden storm rolls in, the sky turning an ominous shade of grey. The wind howls through the broken windows, whipping up leaves and debris in a frenzied dance. Within moments, the heavens open up, unleashing a torrential downpour that shows no signs of letting up.

"Damn it," Joel mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the rapidly deteriorating weather outside. "We ain't makin it back to Jackson in this."

Your heart sinks at his words. The high school isn't equipped for an overnight stay—at least not comfortably—and sharing close quarters with Joel Miller is an entirely different kind of danger than what you've faced so far today. But there's no other choice; safety comes first. You follow him to the least damaged classroom and start gathering materials to make it through the night: some old mats from the gym for bedding; whatever dry wood helps you start a small fire, and some canned food from what remains of the cafeteria's supplies. 

As night falls and darkness envelops your makeshift shelter, you can feel Joel's unease mirroring your own—two predators forced into an uneasy truce by circumstance. You both know that despite your differences and his gruff exterior, survival often requires uncomfortable compromises... like sharing body heat when temperatures plummet during stormy nights like these... like sharing a “bed” when there's only one dry spot left in an abandoned high school turned refuge from infected monsters lurking outside.

—

The storm outside rages on, its fury unabated, as the match from your hand hisses out against the wet concrete floor. The darkness inside seems to thicken and you can feel the cold creeping in, the dampness seeping through the layers of your clothing, chilling you to the bone.

Joel's silhouette is barely visible across the room, his frustration palpable in the heavy silence that follows the failed attempt to reignite the fire. The tension that had momentarily subsided now returns with a vengeance, amplified by the primal need for warmth and the instinctual fear of the unknown dangers lurking in the darkness.

Joel rummages through his bag, the sound of items being shuffled around punctuating the silence. He pulls out a small waterproof match case, flipping it open to reveal just three matches left inside. His fingers, roughened by years of survival and hardship, gingerly pick up the first match. The strike against the side of the box is sharp and swift, but the wind howling through the broken windows extinguishes it before it can catch. A second attempt meets with the same fate, and Joel's jaw clenches in frustration. "Damn it," he mutters under his breath, his voice barely audible over the storm. He looks at the final match with a mix of resignation and determination. "You know, if you were more careful, we'd have more to work with," Joel grumbles.

"Oh, so now you're worried about being more careful?" you retort, unable to keep the sarcasm out of your voice. "A little too late for that now ain't it Miller?” 

Joel glares at you, his eyes narrowing in the dim light. "I've been careful," he growls. He strikes the last match, shielding it from the wind with his hand. But again it fails, leaving you with no heat. 

You can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at seeing Joel struggle. "Yeah, well, maybe you should've thought about that before we ended up in this situation," you say.

Joel shakes his head. "You think this is fun for me?" he asks. "Stuck in this godforsaken place with someone who can't stop talkin?”

You glare at Joel, his silhouette a dark shadow in the dim light. "You think I wanted this?" you snap back, frustration seeping into your words. "I'm here because I have to be, just like you."

Joel grunts in response, his gaze fixed on the remnants of the failed fire. "We don't have time for this," he says gruffly, standing up and brushing off his pants. "We need to conserve body heat."

Reluctantly, you both make your way to the makeshift bed, nothing more than a pile of old gym mats and whatever dry fabric you could scavenge and a small emergency blanket meant for one person. The thought of sharing such close quarters with Joel is unsettling, but survival trumps discomfort every time.

You lie down first, turning your back to him as he settles in behind you. The awkwardness of the situation is not lost on either of you. You can feel the heat radiating off his body despite the layers between you. As minutes pass in silence, save for the howling wind and rain lashing out, Joel shifts slightly behind you. His arm drapes over your side as he tries to find a comfortable position—and then his hand accidentally brushes against your breast. You stiffen instantly; it's an intimate contact that neither of you expected nor wanted under these circumstances. 

"Whoa! Watch it!" you exclaim indignantly, trying to wriggle away from his touch while still maintaining contact for warmth's sake—a delicate balance indeed under these cramped conditions.

Joel recoils as if he's been stung by a wasp. The tension in the room spikes, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Joel's breath hitches, and you can feel his body tense up behind you. The accidental touch has set off a chain reaction of awkwardness, and you're both acutely aware of the other's presence. "Sorry," Joel mumbles, his voice rough with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to..." His sentence trails off, lost in the sound of the rain pounding against the roof.

You nod, acknowledging his apology, but the damage is done. The line between survival and intimacy has been blurred, and the close proximity is playing tricks on your mind. You can't ignore the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, or the fact that you're both very much alone in this abandoned high school.

Minutes tick by, and despite your best efforts to keep a respectful distance, the reality of your situation becomes increasingly apparent. The cold is seeping in, and the need for warmth can't be denied. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, you find yourself leaning back into Joel, seeking the heat that his body is so eager to provide. He stiffens at the contact, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he cautiously wraps his arm back around you, pulling you closer. 

It's been a long time since either of you has felt the touch of another person, the comfort of human contact that goes beyond mere companionship.

Joel's breath is warm against your neck, and you can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you. It's a startling realization, but it's met with an unexpected surge of desire that you can't quite suppress. The knowledge that he's affected by your closeness is thrilling, and you can't help but wonder if he can sense the effect he's having on you as well.

The line between necessity and want is blurred, and in the end, it's the human need for connection that wins out. With the storm as your only witness, you turn to face Joel, your eyes meeting in the dim light. There's a silent question hanging between you, one that's answered with a soft, almost hesitant kiss. The kiss is an exploration, a rediscovery of a basic human need that has been long neglected. It's a slow burn, fueled by days of tension and the shared experiences that have brought you closer than either of you could have anticipated. Joel's hands find their way to your face, cradling it gently as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the contours of your lips before slipping inside to meet yours in a dance that is both familiar and new.

The cold is forgotten as warmth spreads through your body, ignited by the friction between you. You find yourself pressing against him, seeking more contact, more heat. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. The sensation sends shivers down your spine, and a soft moan escapes your lips as Joel's fingers deftly undo the buttons of your shirt, revealing skin that is hungry for his touch.

There's an urgency building between you now—a primal need that cannot be ignored or denied any longer. Clothes are shed hastily; each piece removed reveals another patch of warm skin eager for exploration and connection

As the last of your clothes fall away, the cool air of the high school classroom is a stark contrast to the heat that radiates between you and Joel. His hands trace a path down your sides, exploring the curves of your body. The rough pads of his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, and you can't help but arch into his touch, seeking more.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and there's a vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before. It's as if the walls he's built around himself are crumbling down, brick by brick, revealing the man beneath the hardened survivor. You reach up to cup his face, feeling the stubble scratch against your palms, grounding you in this moment—a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've experienced in a long time.

With a tenderness that surprises you both, Joel lowers his lips to yours once more, kissing you deeply as he positions himself between your legs. The anticipation is palpable; every nerve in your body is attuned to his presence. As he enters you, there's a brief moment of discomfort followed by an overwhelming sense of fullness—a completion that transcends physicality. You move together in rhythm; each thrust is punctuated by gasps and moans that echo off the walls of the abandoned classroom. The world outside has ceased to exist; all that matters is this connection—this desperate need for closeness in a world gone mad.

Joel's pace quickens; his breath comes in ragged gasps against your neck as he drives into you with an urgency born of months—if not years—of pent-up desire and longing. You meet him thrust for thrust, your fingers digging into the muscles of his back as waves of pleasure crash over you both.

The tension builds within you like a storm gathering strength—a tempest that threatens to sweep away everything in its path until there's nothing left but raw sensation and pure ecstasy coursing through every fiber of your being until finally - release washes over you both in a rush of heat and sensation that leaves you gasping for air. The world around you fades away, replaced by the pulsating rhythm of your shared climax. It's a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

As the aftershocks subside, you find yourselves entwined in each other's arms, your head resting on his chest and the steady beat of Joel's heart is a comforting sound against the backdrop of the relentless storm outside. The cold is kept at bay by the warmth generated by your bodies, and for the first time since this ordeal began, you feel truly at peace. 

Eventually Joel's breath evens out as he falls into a deep sleep, his body relaxed and sated in a way you've never seen before. You take a moment to study his face—the lines etched by years of hardship softened in slumber, revealing a hint of the man he might have been under different circumstances. With gentle care, you extricate yourself from his embrace and pull on your clothes, intending to keep watch over the sleeping giant beside you.

The hours pass slowly; dawn is still a distant promise when you hear it—the unmistakable sound of movement outside your refuge. Your senses immediately go on high alert; adrenaline courses through your veins as you cautiously approach one of the broken windows, rifle at the ready. The storm has lessened but not enough to obscure the shapes moving in the pre-dawn gloom. Infected? Or something worse?

You glance back at Joel, still lost in sleep, and make a split-second decision. You won't let whatever danger lurks outside reach him while he's vulnerable. Steeling yourself, you slip out into the storm-ravaged landscape. The rain pelts against your skin, a relentless barrage that does little to dampen your resolve. You move with purpose, your eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of movement.

The high school grounds are eerily quiet, save for the occasional clap of thunder echoing in the distance. You keep low, using the remnants of the playground equipment as cover as you make your way towards the source of the disturbance. The last thing you want is to lead any potential threats back to Joel.

As you approach the perimeter of the school, you catch sight of a small group of infected, their grotesque forms illuminated by the occasional flash of lightning. They seem disoriented, their movements erratic as they struggle against the wind and rain. It's clear they're not here for you; they're simply passing through, driven by some primal instinct to seek shelter from the storm.

You take a deep breath, steadying your aim as you prepare to engage. The first shot rings out, echoing through the deserted schoolyard. One of the infected drops to the ground, its body convulsing before falling still. The others turn towards the sound, their milky eyes searching for the source of the threat.

You fire again, and then again, each shot carefully placed to conserve ammunition. The infected fall one by one, their bodies piling up in the mud as you advance, keeping the upper hand through sheer determination and skill. But as the last one drops, you hear a new sound—a low growl that sends a chill down your spine.

You turn just in time to see another infected emerging from the shadows, its jaws snapping hungrily as it charges towards you. You raise your rifle, but the mud beneath your feet gives way, sending you sprawling to the ground. The infected is on you in an instant, its weight pinning you down as it tries to bite through your rain-soaked jacket.

With a surge of adrenaline, you manage to free one arm and reach for the knife strapped to your belt. You drive the blade upwards, aiming for the infected's exposed throat. The creature gurgles in pain, its grip loosening just enough for you to wriggle free and deliver the killing blow.

Panting heavily, you push the infected's lifeless body off of you and take a moment to assess the situation. The immediate threat has been neutralized, but you're acutely aware that more could be drawn by the sound of the struggle. With no time to lose, you make your way back to the school, your heart pounding in your chest.

You slip back inside and secure the door as best you can. You turn around and see Joel is already awake, his eyes scanning the room as he reaches for his weapon. The sight of you, unharmed, brings a look of relief to his face, quickly replaced by a scowl. "Where the hell were you?" he demands, his voice rough with sleep and worry.

"I heard something outside," you explain, keeping your tone even. "I went to check it out."

Joel's expression darkens. "You should've woken me up, you could have gotten killed out there," he grumbles, his concern for your safety masked by his usual gruff demeanor.

"I didn't and you needed the rest," you reply, meeting his gaze. "Besides, I can handle myself.”

Joel's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you think he's going to argue. But then he just nods, acknowledging your capability even as his protective instincts chafe at the thought of you facing danger alone. "Next time, wake me," he repeats, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can't help but smirk at the gruff concern in Joel's voice. There's a part of you that enjoys getting under his skin, challenging the walls he's built around himself. "You know, Joel," you say, your voice light but your eyes serious, "I think you might actually care about what happens to me."

Joel's scowl deepens, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something that looks a lot like vulnerability. "Don't get the wrong idea," he grumbles, looking away. "I just can't afford to break in a new partner."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "Sure, Miller. Keep telling yourself that." You walk over to where he's now sitting and nudge him playfully with your foot. "Admit it. You like having me around.”

Joel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a reluctant smile. "You're alright," he concedes, his voice gruff. "But don't let it go to your head.”

You can't resist the urge to tease Joel a little more. "I think you protest too much, Joel Miller," you say with a playful grin. "I mean, first you can't stop complaining about my chatter, and now you're almost starting to sound... affectionate."

Joel's eyes narrow, but the ghost of a smile still lingers on his lips. "Don't push your luckp," he warns, his voice carrying a note of fondness that he's unable to fully conceal.

You lean in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, for someone who pretends not to care, you sure were... attentive last night," you say with a sly grin, your eyes dancing with mischief.

A flush creeps up Joel's neck, and for a moment, you think you might have pushed him too far. But then he chuckles—a low, rumbling sound that you feel more than hear. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he says, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You beam at him, feeling a sense of triumph. "Maybe," you admit, "but you like me anyway.”

—

As the first light breaks through the retreating storm, you and Joel prepare to leave the high school behind. You gather your belongings, exchanging quiet glances with Joel as you both acknowledge the shift in your relationship.

The journey back to Jackson is uneventful, the aftermath of the storm leaving the world outside quiet. You walk side by side, your boots crunching on the wet gravel. Joel seems more at ease, his usual stoic demeanor softened.

Upon your return to the settlement, the familiar sight of the gates brings a sense of relief. The guards nod in recognition as you pass.

You make your way to the patrol book, your fingers brushing against the worn pages as you prepare to document the latest entry. Joel watches you, his expression unreadable, as you pick up the pen and begin to write.

Patrol Log - Jackson Settlement

Date: Indeterminate, Post-Outbreak

Pair: Joel Miller/The New Kid

Entry Signout: Patrol complete. High school secured. Infected cleared. Storm provided unexpected overnight stay. No serious injuries to report. 

You pause for a moment, considering your next words carefully. With a small smile, you add a final note

Casualties: Zero. Zilch. Nada. Unless you count the ego of a certain grumpy individual who may or may not have been out-shot by yours truly.

You cap the pen and step back, allowing Joel to read your entry. His eyes scan the page, and you see the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as he reads your postscript. He doesn't say anything, but the look he gives you speaks volumes. 

As you turn to leave, Joel's hand catches yours, his grip firm yet gentle. 

Hey," Joel says as he pulls you closer. "I, uh... I don't know how to do this," he admits, his gaze dropping to where your hands are joined.

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, offering him a small, encouraging smile. "Do what, Joel?" 

He takes a deep breath, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. "This," he repeats, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "The... talking about feelings stuff." 

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to articulate his feelings, the corners of your mouth curling up into a smile. "Is this the part where you tell me that despite your better judgement, you've grown fond of me?" you tease, squeezing his hand in return.

Joel rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his expression. "Somethin like that," he admits gruffly, releasing your hand to run a hand through his disheveled hair. "You've got guts, I'll give you that. And maybe... maybe I don't mind the chatter as much as I let on.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gruff admission meaning more to you than any grand declaration of love ever could "Well then," you say, stepping closer to him, "I guess this means we're stuck with each other."

Joel's response is a low chuckle. "Yeah," he agrees, his hand finding its way to the small of your back in a gesture that feels both new and familiar all at once. "I suppose it does.”

[sweetbunpura]

Upendi - The Fierce, Lioness Princess

Yuu knew marrying Leona would come with the ups and downs of being a Princess, but she was going to put that power to good use and begin to help the people of Sunset Savanna.

WC: 1684

“Are these terms fair enough?”

A warm breeze blew through the council room. Spring has finally come to Sunset Savanna as the heat of the sun melted off the frost of the last winter frost. In the room sat Farena with the Sunset Council and across from them was Malleus with his two Royal guards. The draconic fae looked over the terms, flipping through them several times as he hummed.

“I would like more time to ruminate on this matter.” Malleus spoke eloquently. “Is that alright?”

“Of course, take as much time as you need.” Farena responded with a smile.

He grabbed the papers, bowed to them, and left the room with his guards. Once out of ear shot, Farena sighed.

“Do you think he'll agree, Kifaji?”

“I don't see why not.” The older beastman replied as they also began to leave the room. “This is beneficial to both countries.” The older man hummed. “Although, “He seemed to be contemplating the deal. If there was some way to get him more agreeable-”

“Mal!”

All heads jerked to see Princess Yuu, in her stylized royal garb, rushing towards the Briar Valley King with her arms wide open. Farena fully expected his guard to step in and stop her, but to his surprise, neither moved.

“Child of Man!” The King wrapped her in a hug. “How have you been?”

“Busy. There’s so much work that has to be done.” She sighed and placed her forehead against his shoulder. “So much that I’m sorry I had to cancel our tea date. I’m sorry about that.”

He shook his head. “Do not worry about it, something had come up that day for me as well.”

Yuu stepped back and looked at Draconia’s guards. “Silver! Baebek!”

“You still call me that ridiculous nickname!?” The light green haired guard snapped. “We’ve long since graduated NRC and have gone past that name, have we not?”

She simply smiled and opened her arms. “I missed you too.”

He huffed and shook his head before hugging her. “...It’s good to see you.”

“Mm-hmm.” She moved towards the other man. “Silver, how’s Lilia doing?”

“Enjoying his retirement.” Silver gave a smile and hugged her. “He sends postcards from everywhere he’s been.”

Unknowing to them, as they continued to talk and converse, Farena and the Council stared at them with wide eyes.

“S-she knows them and went to NRC with them as well?” Kifaji muttered.

“That is... shocking news.” Farena added in. “Wasn’t the school they attended an all male one?”

“Perhaps she snuck in.” One councilman, a monkey beastman, suggested. 

“No, she’s magicless. It would make no sense for her to do such a thing.”

“Then she is a special case.”

Another councilman chimed in, this one a meerkat beastman. “Wasn’t she supposed to be kept busy while King Draconia was here?”

“She was.” Kifaji answered. “Unless she completed all of it.”

Yuu’s eyes shifted from the group over to the lingering Council, the warmth in them left quickly as she glared at them. They jumped back and split apart, each muttering something about the princess, and leaving only Kifaji and Farena.

“My!” Farena laughed almost nervously. “Her and Thema have the same glare.”

“Indeed....”

They shuffled away, but Kifaji had a feeling that the Princess had more than just the King of Briar Valley and his guards in her backpocket.

Yuu waited for the men to disappear before turning her attention back towards Malleus. “So whatcha doing here?”

“King Farena and the council wished to meet with me about a possible deal.” Malleus held up the papers. “I was going to deliberate on it more and give them an answer at a later date.” He looked around. “Where is Kingscholar?”

“Leona?” He nodded. “We got Cloudcalling coming up and he has to oversee it, so he’s doing that.”

“And you?”

“Some diplomatic shit.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “Like who we should and shouldn’t invite to the event, thinking of all the rooms to give people and such.” Muttering under her breath, she continued. “And keeping me away from the slums and Ruggie.”

“I see.”

“Here.” Yuu started directing them down a hallway. “Let’s keep talking in the garden. I can brew some tea for you, if you want some.” 

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Mmhhmm, thank you.” Silver added in.

“Much appreciated!” Sebek chimed in.

They were soon seated amongst the many greenery that the castle grounds had to offer. The tea finished brewing and Yuu handed out cups to them.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what did the papers detail?”

“Here.” Malleus handed the papers to her. “You are more than welcome to look. I trust your judgement above anything else.”

“Thanks.” She took and read the papers over. “Hmm.” Yuu crossed her legs at the knee and took a sip of her tea. “....We don’t need your gold.”

“Pardon?”

“They're asking for your gold in exchange for the fruits we produce here.” She handed the papers back to Malleus. “If anything, I would exchange the fruits for the fabric Briar Valley produces. Right, Leona?”

“Yeah.”

Malleus, Silver, and Sebek watched as a very familiar tail dropped down from the branches behind Yuu.

“Leona-san has been here the whole time?” Silver blinked.

“Yeah.” Yuu took another sip of her tea. “That’s actually why I came back, they couldn’t find him and they knew he only answers to me when he gets like this.”

“I do not.”

“Really now?” She smirked. “Can you join us down here then?”

A few heartbeats passed before Leona dropped down from the tree and stretched. The prince shook the leaves from his hair and sat down next to Yuu with a yawn. He had started growing facial hair as wisps of it decorated his chin and stretched up to the sides of his face. The outfit he wore was close to Yuu’s and there was a wedding ring on his finger.

“Kingscholar.”

“Draconia.” Leona reached over and took some of Yuu’s tea. “What’s this about a trade?”

“Farena and the Council are asking for gold in exchange for fruit.”

“Typical.” He huffed and flicked his tail. “As she said, we don’t need the gold. We have plenty if they would open the mines.” Setting the mug down, Leona leaned back in his chair as his tail rested in Yuu’s lap. “We’re lacking fabric for mostly everything here. From clothing to sheets on beds. Spring may be here, but winter wasn’t kind to Savanna and neither is the night for that matter.”

“I’ll amend this at once.” Summoning a quill, Malleus began making changes. 

“You have picked up a lot since marrying Kingscholar.” Sebek said.”

“I had to because the council makes me want to tear out my hair and scream at them.” She placed her elbows on the table and sighed. “A bunch of old men running this country into the ground for the sake of keeping everything traditional.”

“We know the feeling all too well.” Silver added in as Malleus gave a small hum. “It’s a struggle, isn’t it?”

“You’d think they’re afraid of change or something.” She waved her hand. “But I’m not about to ramble on about them. Are you guys staying for Cloudcalling?”

“Are you inviting us to stay and partake in the festivities?” Malleus willed the quill away as the papers rolled up gently in his hand.

“Only if you’re able to. It’s in a few days, so you can give me your answer whenever.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Leona looked at her. 

“No. Wife privileges.” She smiled and kissed him as Malleus gave a soft chuckle.

“Thank you for the tea, Child of Man.” He got up and bowed. “I’ll be returning these papers to King-”

“Oh, Leona and I are coming too.”

“We are?” He grunted when Yuu swatted at his bicep. “We are.”

Before either of the men could move, Leona got up and helped the woman out of her chair.

“My, how marriage changes a person.” Malleus teased.

“Hush, Lizard.”

They left the garden and began making their way back to the main part of the palace. Stepping into the establishment, they spotted Farena and Kifaji.

“Ah, there you are, Leona!” Farena smiled. “And I see you’ve met with King Draconia.”

“Yeah.” Leona rolled his eyes.

“Here you are.” Malleus handed the papers to Farena. “I reviewed the terms and believe this is more beneficial.”

“Oh?” The older Kingscholar looked at the sheets. “Fabric?”

“Yes. Gold is far too accessible and common, but the way Briar Valley weaves our fabric is worth the cost of your produce.” Malleus held out his hand. “Do you agree to these terms?”

Kifaji leaned slightly over to Farena, but he waved him off and shook Malleus’ hand.

“They are. Thank you, King Malleus.”

“You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to continue spending the day with my friend.” He turned to Yuu with a smile on his face.

Yuu returned it. “Gimme one second, okay?”

He nodded and Leona directed them towards the exit of the palace. Once out of ear shot, Kifaji rounded on Yuu.

“That gold was needed.”

“For what? Another fountain?” Yuu glared at him. “If you want the gold so much, open up the mines and go grab it yourself.”

“I’ve told you time and time again-”

“You can’t keep using that broken record of an excuse, Kifaji.” She growled. “Do you know how many people we lost last winter because they didn’t have the means to keep warm?” She pointed at the papers. “The way they weave their material around makes it so you are never cold. So, you’re going to have to forgive me for directing him over towards that option.” Yuu poked his chest. “You may not think highly of the residents of this kingdom, but I do. Don’t pull this shit again, bird and that also goes double for you, Farena.”

Yuu ended the conversation there as she walked out of the palace, leaving Kifaji and Farena to stare at her with a surprise look.

Tagging: @kimdourden

[sephifrog]

Sephiroth Alphabet Headcanons

A -Affirmations (what he calls you)

Treasure, pet sweetheart

B -Blush (does he blush when you're close by?/How do you make him blush)

He would will it away in public not wanting to have people catch him lacking however when alone he will allow himself the pleasure of letting his guard down and feeling the flush on his cheeks while you fuss over him

C -Comfort (how does he comfort you or what do you do that comforts him)

Another one who loves his hair played with, face hidden in your chest and letting the warmth from your body ground him, if in public link pinkies and he can breathe again all in all you as a whole are calming

He’s very awkward when comforting you he only knows how you comfort him so in the beginning he mimics what you do for him, playing with your hair. holding you close but as your relationship progresses he starts to branch out, distracting you by talking about his swords because you told him his voice calms you, letting you rant about anything and everything 

D -Dates ( what do you do on your dates)

Dinner at his flat! He likes being open with you but it’s hard to do in public so he cooks for you/you cook together or you watch him train he shows off but he would refuse to admit it

Your first date was pretty much perfect he almost burnt the steak because he was nervous but it was the best you ever had and he feels his chest fill with pride when you tell him as such

E -End (what would end your relationship?)

 Like Genesis Being in Silver Elite but for different reasons -if you lied, feel he seldom trusts people, and if you break it it's over, and if you side with Hojo in any way

F -Fear (what he’s afraid of)

You being afraid of him, you’re the only person that’s treated him as a human and not a weapon so seeing fear in your eyes would break him- also if Hojo was to take you from him

G -Gossip

He’ll listen to you no matter what you’re talking about but rarely takes part in it unless it’s about any of his friends because man would use that against them

H -Hold (how he holds you)

He’s afraid he would hurt you at the beginning so it’s always a light hold when you’ve been together for a while he holds you more firmly as long as you're against him he doesn’t care how he holds you

I -Injured (what would he do if you were hurt?)

Death to whoever hurt you he would destroy the world for you -if he isn’t allowed to kill them he would make them suffer in training

J -Jealous (is he Jealous?)

Not really it’s more of a homicidal rage if someone is trying to take you from him :)

K -Kiss (favourite place to kiss)

He loves kissing you full stop but if he had to choose your collarbone and pulse points (wrist, neck, etc)

He feels loved and safe when you kiss his scars and head 

L -Laugh (something that makes him laugh)

When you try and square up with him or when you steal his clothes

M -Memory (his favourite memory with you)

When you took care of him after his treatments 

N -Needy

Surprisingly yeah- I feel like he is he never shows it through 

O -Over (what is something you had to get over as partners)

His fears of hurting you 

P -PDA

Only if hidden, pinky linking under the table, brushing hands as you walk past

Q -Quip (can he joke around with you? Do you have inside jokes)

His humor is dry and fleeting but if you laugh he feels his chest warm

R -Romantic (is he romantic?)

Not really in a traditional sense but he looks after you and watches over you That is the only way he really knows how to express his affection but he’s learning

S -Sephiroth

He is hard to win over but when you have he’s hard to lose he would make sure you’re taken care of but can disappear on missions for days. He would never stray and only has eyes for you, you are one of the most protected people in the world

When he snaps he either kills you first in a rage or takes you somewhere secluded and tries to live out his days with just you (and your children because he would want a family)

T -Treasure (what is something he had that reminds him of you and what did he give you to remind you of him?)

He gave you one of his first weapons something he wouldn’t even let others look at but he wanted you protected and only trusted weapons he used and modded

You gave him love something he never really experienced and even after all the gifts you made and brought for him your love is the thing he treasures most 

U -Unlikely (what is something that he would probably never do)

He would never Hurt you purposely 

V -vulnerable

Only with you when in the safety of his flat/your house

W -Wedding (would he want to get married?)

Honestly, whatever you want he would be happy with but if he had to choose, a small intimate wedding with those he trusts 

X -(e)X (would he be friends with an ex)

He’s never had one and if he did No there’s a reason they split and it would have to be something serious for him to let go of them 

Y -Year (how would he act on New Year's?)

Doesn’t really care for celebrations and if he’s not forced to a Shinra party he would want to spend the night with you

Z -Zoo (would you get any pets?)

Feel like Angeal would talk him into getting a dog-

[janitorhutcherson]

I love your writing, please please give the world Mike comforting his partner on their period 🙏🏻 that man would be so compassionate but also confused and asking tons of questions so he can explain it to Abby when she’s older

okay so, i'm about to start my period. i can sense it, i'm cramping, i'm going insane, so here is some mike fluff!! i need this, y'all need this, we all need this rn. this isn't great, last min as always :p i promise one day i'll give yall something more quality lol. also am sorry if this isn't exactly what u were lookin' for!! i hope u enjoy :P

word count: 1,298

warnings: mentions of blood (period), swearing

summary: mike takes care of you while you're on your period. completely unaware to how it all works, he does the best he can, trying to educate himself in the process.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were in pain. That was one thing you knew for sure. For the past two days, your insides had felt like Satan himself was ripping them out, tearing each part of your uterus into tiny, itty bitty pieces, perhaps even doing a little happy dance on them. As your body was stretched out on the couch, your hand gripping your abdomen, you felt like your life was flashing before your eyes. You'd called off work, waking up feeling worse than you had during that time of the month in a while. You couldn't picture yourself doing much of anything but laying on the couch in the living room of your boyfriend, Mike, and his little sister, Abby, who was much like your own. You'd slept over the night before, opting to stay there as you felt much more comfortable.

Once a month, you became queen bitch, completely insufferable to be around. You were grumpy, sick, nauseous, and aching. You couldn't help it. Your cramps were always amplified more than the average person. Your pain tolerance seemed to get weaker when the time came. With that being said, everyone around you had to suffer the consequences. You and Mike had only been together a few months. Every month, he'd get a little bit better about handling it. The first month, he was slightly standoffish, not sure if his assistance would make things worse or if it would help you. He'd offer you pain medicine, get you water when you needed it, and fetch the heating pad when you cried out in pain. He was always sympathetic, helpless in his inability to make your pain disappear. Mike loved you, and the last thing he wanted was for you to ache the way that you did.

In the following two months, he'd gotten more adventurous, even offering to go out and buy your preferred pads and tampons. Even though he brought back the wrong thing the first time (he brought back the preteen pads, which would not be helpful to your heavy flow), he was sure to correct it the next. With his learning curve coming to an end, Mike was much better with his assistance. Right as your eyes began to flutter closed, the front door to Mike's door flung open, an exhausted Mike walking through, his hair messy and his skin somewhat pale due to his lack of sleep. Although he was working normal human hours now after getting a regular job, the adjustment period was difficult. He somehow felt even more sleep-deprived than before. You slowly sat up, a confused look on your face as you glanced over at the time. It was only noon, which didn't make sense. Mike typically wouldn't be home until around 5:30pm.

"Mike?" you questioned, your voice laced with pain as your head cocked to the side.

"Yeah, baby?" he questioned back, placing three plastic bags from the store onto the coffee table in front of you. He sat beside you on the couch, moving your legs to lay across his lap. He tenderly reached his hand across you, his warm palm slipping under your shirt to touch your aching stomach. He rubbed slow and gentle circles on the tender area, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as it somewhat relieved the pain. "You feelin' any better?" he spoke softly, his tone dripping with sympathy and worry.

"Why are you home? What's in the bags?" You were confused. You didn't mean to sound like a bitch, but the pain was making you somewhat delirious, and the thought of him simply coming home early just didn't occur to you. He chuckled, shaking his head as he playfully rolled his eyes.

"Can you not just let me take care of you for once?" he grumbled, grabbing the plastic bags from the table and placing them gently into your laps. In the first bag, he pulled out a brand new pain reliever bottle and miniature heating pads. They were wireless and single-use. You could stick them into your pants and wear them around wherever you needed. He also pulled out a new bubble bath, lavender scented, that claimed to have infused pain-relieving essential oils. The next bag contained your favorite kind of chocolate, some other kinds of candy, and a little stuffed bear. The bear wasn't any bear, but one that could be heated up and again used as a heating pad. Inside of the same bag, he also pulled out a brand new box of the right kind of tampons and a bouquet of flowers. The last bag contained burgers and fries from your favorite fast-food place, something yummy to get into your aching system.

You watched in awe as he pulled out each item, a sheepish but proud grin spread across his face as he did so. He was proud of himself, mostly because he felt useful, he felt like for once he was the one taking care of you. Mike typically felt like a burden, like he wasn't worth caring for, regardless of how much you attempted to convince him otherwise. Times like these were important to him, times when he could make you feel safe, secure, loved.

"I, uh, heard you this morning. I realized you were in a lot of pain, wanted to do something nice. I took the day off of work, thought I'd surprise you with some stuff to make you feel good. Got us some lunch too, thought maybe we could go lay down in the bed and watch movies, eat some junk together? I'll take real good care of you," he said, scratching at the back of his neck with a hopeful grin. You looked back at him with your own wide grin, the churning cramps in your stomach not subsiding but instead simply not your main focus at the moment. You nodded your head, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

You helped him carry the brand-new goods and the food to the bedroom. You plopped down onto the bed as Mike leaned over you, gently kissing your head. He tucked you into the blankets, ensuring you were nice and warm. He closed the curtains tightly, all too aware of the vision-blurring headaches you got on your period. He put up one finger to signal he'd be right back. Once he returned, he had a glass of water and heated up your brand-new heating pad bear. He placed your wired heating pad onto the small of your back, pressing two kisses to your forehead again. He then insisted you lift your head, helping you to swallow the pills. After, Mike cuddled up next to you in bed.

The two of you watched random movies and TV shows for the rest of the day, his hand seldom leaving your stomach. He constantly had you wrapped up near him. He kept you medicated and fed, refusing to leave your side. Mike was content. Even though you were a bitch during this time, you were appreciative. He loved you and it was clear, he'd do anything to take care of you.

While deep into the show you were watching, you felt a pair of eyes staring into the side of your head. You lifted your head, looking over to Mike with a cocked eyebrow. "Yes..?" you questioned, staring at his somewhat nervous expression.

"Um, do you think, you could maybe explain periods to me? Y'know, all of it, the bloody stuff, the moody stuff.. I just.. wanna be prepared for Abby," he asked sheepishly. A chuckle left your lips as you shook your head.

"Of course, Mikey. I can explain it to you," you hummed, pressing a kiss to his lips before you went into detail, explaining female anatomy to your 25-year-old boyfriend.

[anakin-skywalker-always]

I Can Feel It Calling In The Air Tonight:

Pairing: Padawan!Anakin x Vigrin!Padawan!Reader

Requested: Yes | No

(was 💕- “Just…be gentle” 🌹- First time and 🌻- “I love you.”/“say it again” in my emoji requests)

Warnings: Smut. First time cringe? Swear words? Unprotected. P in V. As always, let me know if you think there should be something listed here.

Words: 1.9k

Author’s Notes: Anakin and reader are around 19 in this :) 18+ MDNI sorry this is probably really bad and lame and short. It’s also unedited sorry!!

The air in the Temple felt thick, and muggy, like it clung to your skin. Your little, curly baby hairs stuck to the back of your neck, the humidity causing your padawan braid to come loose. Rebraiding it was on your ever growing list of things to do. It was one of the hotter summer nights on Coruscant, but you couldn’t shake the idea that this burning was simply the anxiety coursing through you. Sticking to the safety of the cool shadows, you made your way through the Jedi temple, after hours.

You and Anakin Skywalker had been…well you didn’t exactly know the word for it. You wish you could say dating, but Jedi don’t really date. It was no secret to anyone though, that the Padawan learners, they had urges. Young adults don’t change, regardless of the context you put them in it’s only natural. In the words of Anakin’s master, the two of you had been ‘fooling around’ for a little bit now. Despite the fact it was no shock to the Masters that the Padawan’s stretched the rules regarding attachment, it was the ‘getting caught’ part that mattered, blind eyes only turned so far.

That’s how you found yourself, in your thin, cotton, standard-issue pyjamas and Jedi robe, sneaking in shadow and slinking past columns of your ancient order. You hadn’t seen Anakin in weeks, himself and Master Kenobi found themselves on missions in the outer rim more often than not. Yourself, being Master Mace Windu’s Padawan, you knew your Master simply didn’t like Anakin, and you couldn’t help but to romanticise the idea of the father figure in your life barring you from seeing the boy you may like. In short, if you and Anakin wanted to see one another, you usually had to make time.

Anakin could sense your nerves as you approached his hallway, his door. Usually he would wait for your four sharp raps against the door frame, but tonight he waited patiently behind the door, ready to pull you in. He couldn’t help it. He felt possessed by you, you consumed nearly every waking thought, and destroyed his subconscious dreams. You kept him tethered to the real world, he often felt like he could disappear into the vastness of the force any minute, but with the promise of you, Anakin’s feet remained firmly planted.

You were dragged into Anakin’s bare chest and strong arms before you even raised your fist to knock. Snaking your arms around his waist, the contact wasn’t doing much for the uncomfortable heat. As Anakin found his metal hand wrapped into your hair, kissing your hairline, dragging his flesh fingers down your spine, he realised just how much he had missed you while he was off-world.

“Hello.” You whispered into the night, mumbled by Anakin’s skin. He heard you, nonetheless.

“Hello.” Anakin always managed to sound sure of himself, you didn’t understand how he was always so even in tone. You knew other padawans called him whiny when you were younger, but you had never seen this whiny, baby side that your lover supposedly had.

War, you supposed, ages people.

You started: “I really missed you this time-” Just as Anakin managed to get out:

“Gods, I missed you, you have no idea-”

His metal hand gently grasps your chin, directing your eyes up to his own. You couldn’t help but giggle, his smirk, the little dimple, his shiny eyes, fresh scars. He was beautiful.

Despite it all, Anakin’s lips were soft, warm, inviting. The humidity has chapped yours, but in the process made them more sensitive. You could’ve sworn that you felt every nerve fire through that kiss.

Never breaking the kiss, Anakin walked you backwards, your knees hitting his bed.

For the first time in a long while, Anakin felt scared. It was in the air tonight, how badly the two of you wanted each other. And now, here you were, laid flat on his bed, looking expectantly up at him, the city lights filtering through his blinds, refracting across your face.

“Why so nervous Skywalker?” You quipped, your voice no louder than a whisper. You quirked an eyebrow, and Anakin’s flesh hand found the back of his neck, scratching nervously. Anakin could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, branding his nervousness as tangible. “I thought you said you’ve done this before.” Anakin knew you were poking fun at him to try and aid his anxiety, making a serious thing not feel so serious.

And yes, it was true. Padmé, Naboo, guard duty. It was fun, Anakin learnt a lot. But with you it’s just different, there are other emotions in play, more attachment. And of that, he had to admit he was scared.

You could see the apprehension in Anakin’s face, it was kind of hilarious really. You were the virgin in this scenario, already slick with want for him, and an eagerness to boot. Leaning up to capture his lips in a soft, gentle, innocent kiss, you whispered: “Just…be gentle.” And with that, Anakin got to work.

With your legs hanging over his bed, Anakin knelt on the floor, face to face with your clothed core. Gingerly, his fingertips grazed over the waistband of your grey pants, your shirt sneaking further up your chest, displaying the sliver of sensitive, goosebump-riddled skin. Before going any further, Anakin looked up, his brilliant blue eyes of fire meeting your own.

“Are you sure?” This was Anakin’s final probe for consent, he had to know you felt comfortable, felt safe with him. He knew most people his age didn’t really see having sex as a big thing, it wasn’t so serious, it was normal. But not to Anakin. Sex, something so primal, so ancient, with so many intricacies and vulnerabilities, it should be treated with respect.

Anakin couldn’t live with himself if you thought he didn’t respect you.

You loved Anakin- not that you’ve ever said this aloud to him - and his carefulness when it came to you.

“Yes, Anakin.” You huffed, squirming in anticipation.

He needed no further convincing, quickly ridding you of your standard issue pants and plain panties.

Spreading your legs open with a firmness you weren’t unfamiliar with, Anakin kept a strong grip on the inner, tender skin of your thighs as he started devouring your already sopping cunt.

Anakin loved eating you out, it was divine. His tongue launched through your folds, he sucked and nibbled on your throbbing, hot core. The lewd sounds only spurring him on more. This wasn’t Anakin’s first time eating you out, but the soft mewls that sprang from your mouth felt different this time. Anakin’s cold, metal fingers found their way to your clit, you hissed from the contact.

Anakin could feel your orgasm building from the slight tremble reverberating onto his mouth. His own cock was fully hard and painfully constricted by his grey, cotton pants. He knew that his precum was probably leaving a wet patch, a stain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Oh,” you cried, back arching as Anakin’s mouth kept working on your core. “Anakin, Anakin please-“ you begged. You didn’t know what you begged him for. His cock, to let you come, as thanks? It didn’t matter though as your first orgasm tore right through you, flashes of white hot light felt like they were being torn out of you. Anakin happily feasted on your slick, his chest heaving with yours in unison.

Pulling away from your core, the humid air set your body alight, as Anakin quickly rid himself of his pants. Spitting on his hand with some of your leftover orgasm, he pumped himself a few times, his red tip leaky and sensitive. Anakin could’ve easily cum then and there, watching you come to from your fucked out state, hair spread out on the bed like a halo, beautiful strong legs shaking slightly.

You missed his closeness, eagerly propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch Anakin stroking his huge member. You couldn’t help but flush a bright pink at the sight of it. You knew logically it had to fit, but you weren’t quite sure how. And, maybe it was egotistical of you, but you felt ravenous at the idea of the Chosen One’s dick being hard at the sight of yourself. You were the one to get Skywalker the Hero hot and bothered.

It was the greatest victory you had ever scored.

Anakin crawled himself between your outstretched legs, lining his hard member up to your slick and weepy hole. He looked at your shiny, beautiful eyes once more, just once more to confirm that you were happy, comfortable.

The softness in your round eyes, and your genuine smile was enough for him.

He thrusted his tip in gently, just enough for you to adjust. Anakin could’ve cum on the spot, again, from the rolling of your gorgeous eyes back into your pretty little head. Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he needed to move.

“Sweetheart can I move?” Anakin asks softly, moving his mouth to the sensitive part of your neck, just under your ear. Nibbling and kissing downwards in a fiery path.

“Oh, please Anakin I need more I need you-“ You were vaguely aware of your rambling but you didn’t care, rolling your hips up to meet his, coercing him and his cock to fill you completely.

Filling you to the hilt, Anakin couldn’t help but moan into your neck. Your velveteen walls were heaven sent. Anakin’s low moaning as he pumped in and out of you at a slow, deep pace was incomprehensible. You couldn’t help but to moan yourself, stringing curses and his name along with it.

“Faster Anakin.” You begged him, your hands finding his muscular back, all sinew and tone. You scratched up and down the length of his spine.

This set Anakin alight, picking up the pace and fucking you like an animal. He could’ve sworn he felt every feathering motion, as you constricted around him.

“Ani- I’m - ah, oh - Anakin I’m going to cum.” Your confession was innocent enough, but Anakin looked away from your contorted, beautiful face and looked to where your bodies joined. He saw your precious cream for the second time that night. But this time it spilt out around the base of his cock, getting caught in his curly, dark hair.

Something snapped in Anakin then, fucking you further, harder, at an unrelenting pace through your orgasm. Until he felt his balls tightening. He knew he was close.

Grunting, he asked: “I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it Sweetheart?”

The simple question bought tears of pleasure to your eyes, your back arching, one of your hands wrapped around Anakin’s padawan braid, pulling his ear to your mouth.

“Inside, oh please cum inside me Ani.”

That was all Anakin needed to release. Thick ropes of hot come shot through you, as he left his cock inside, slowly fucking his cum into you.

With his cock still inside, Anakin lent over you, face to face. The two of you focusing on each others force signature, calming your erratic breathing.

Maybe it was the thrill of the night, but you felt possessed by a happier version of your normal self.

“I love you.” The admission was so quiet, Anakin wasn’t sure he even heard you. To be fair, you didn’t even know if you spoke it.

“Say it again.” Anakin begged, stroking your stuck hair away from your sweaty face.

“I love you Anakin Skywalker.”

“And I love you.”

[french-unknown]

𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒𝖊

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: luffy, zoro, nami, usopp, sanji, robin 𝖈/𝖜: fluff, domestic 𝖜/𝖈: 2.6k +

| m a s t e r l i s t | - | p t . 2 | - | p t . 3 | | e v e n t . s u m m a r y |

𝖑𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖞

trick and treat

Attracted by all the lights on in the residential area of the island, you approached them with Luffy.

To your great astonishment, there were a large number of children wandering between the different houses in different costumes, more or less frightening. You were confused to see so many children outside at that hour. And above all, without supervision. However, after all the islands you had visited, the costumes didn't surprise you that much.

You then fixed your gaze on a particular group who went up to the steps of the house to your right.

They knocked on the door, and when a woman opened the door, they said "trick or treat" as they handed out each of the containers. Then, much to your confusion, the woman laughed before taking out a bag of candy which she shared among the children. As if it were perfectly normal to give candy to a group of costumed children who ring the doorbell after dark. You stayed where you were while the woman closed the door and the children left for the next house.

The same process began again.

On every street corner, with all the groups of children, everything happened the same way. Always with the same sentence.

Trick or treat?

As you glanced next to you to talk to Luffy about it, you noticed that he had also disappeared. You looked around in panic and ended up finding him alone at the entrance to a house a few meters from you.

You could only run toward him at the same moment he knocked on the door.

A woman came out as you reached him. She looked at you strangely and looked you up and down.

"Trick or Treat?" the black-haired boy almost yelled.

"Aren’t you too old for candy hunting?" She asked, perplexed.

"We’re never too old for candy!" Luffy declared with a laugh.

Faced with the innocence of the response, as well as the relaxed behavior of your partner, the woman also relaxed and laughed in turn. She seemed to be more comfortable.

"And what are you dressed in?" she questioned happily as she pulled out a bag of sweets from her back.

Immediately, Luffy took his straw hat off his head in order to turn it upside down and hold it out towards the woman as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"As pirates, ma’am!" He responded with good humor.

"You should improve your disguise, then." She laughed. "You two don't really look like them. You're not scary enough!"

"We're not this kind of pirates." He retorted.

The woman then stepped back before closing her door, not without greeting. Luffy then took your hand and walked away as well, waving.

You spent the rest of your evening being pulled from house to house by an excited Luffy who couldn't hold still at the thought of having more candy. He wasn't your lover anymore, just a little boy.

𝖟𝖔𝖗𝖔

haunted castle

It was evening, and night would soon fall.

However, thanks to a certain swordsman whose sense of direction equated with his abstinence, you found yourself at the exit of a dark and foreboding forest, looking at a gothic castle that seemed anything but welcoming. Nervously, you passed the large black wrought iron gates that demarcated the land and thus entered the gardens that surrounded the fortress.

Everything was fallow and unmaintained. The shrubs and bushes were in random shapes while the grass was tall and lush. The trees were so gnarled that you wondered if it was really normal. The winding sandy walking paths didn't make you want to venture into the plots either.

However, what terrified you the most was the feeling of being observed from the moment you went through the gates.

Unfortunately, the boot prints you saw in the sand—made obvious by the lack of other marks—forced you to move forward into the green space of the property. At first, you huffed loudly but you still went anyway.

You followed the footprints, eyes glued to the ground because of the fear, praying to find Zoro as quickly as possible.

Around you, you heard the vegetation rustling with its branches, leaves and thorns clashing. And this even if there was no wind. Furthermore, despite the abundance of shelter for animals, you heard no birdsong or rabbit footsteps. You understood that an October evening was not the most favorable but you still found it quite suspicious in such a lush environment for animals.

Something cold then touched your hand.

You jumped so hard that you felt the tension in your neck go down to your shoulders. A shiver of fear ran through your entire body and goosebumps immediately covered your arms without you being able to do anything.

Yet, when you looked at where the contact was coming from, there was nothing.

You wanted to leave.

From there, you started trotting to find Zoro and you finally found him walking between two bushes. Hands in his pockets, he walked quietly. You immediately jumped on him to ask him how he ended up there.

"I wanted to see if there was anyone in the castle to offer me a drink but I can’t get out of the garden." he explained naturally.

Suddenly, a child's laughter was heard behind you and when you turned around, there was nothing.

You immediately grabbed the swordsman's hand and towed him towards the exit. You ran as fast as you could with fear coursing through your veins as well. You were so scared that you were convinced that, if he put up the slightest resistance, you would have been ready to knock him out so you could drag his unconscious carcass out of there.

When you passed the gates, you didn't stop and continued to rush towards the boat.

𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎

horror movie night

You and Nami were the only two who were assigned to guard the Sunny during this stopover. And the navigator wanted to spend the evening watching a movie.

What Nami wanted, Nami got!

So she convinced Sanji to keep the ship for a few more hours and took you to the nearest town to find a movie rental store. As soon as you entered the shop, you were immediately intrigued by the simplicity of the store. There was a desk, where a paunchy man was reading, as well as two shelves full of binders whose spines were annotated with words such as "romance", "detective" and "autobiography".

To your greatest amazement, Nami went straight to the one marked "horror".

You tried to hold her back at first but she avoided your hold and opened the binder. She flipped through the pages. You then noticed that, on each page, there was the title of a film with its summary and its official poster. But all these images of blood, killers and weapons made you a little uncomfortable.

"Um...Nami?" you called her.

She muttered in response, too busy reading the synopses.

"I’m not sure about the horror movie?" You continued, unsure.

"Come on!" She said, looking up at you. "I really want to see one. And then, if you're afraid, you can just snuggle up against me!"

The idea of being able to cuddle up to the girl you've been crushing on for a while made you shut up for good. You had been looking around for a few months but nothing had come of it yet. Still on cloud nine, you didn't follow when she retrieved one of the papers that interested her before bringing it to the man behind the counter.

When you reconnected with the outside world, the man came back from the back room with a Den Den Mushi who had probably already recorded the desired film.

"It’s 1,000 Berry to rent the Cameko. Do you have anything to project?" he asked then, facing Nami who shook her head, and he returned with another snail even bigger. "It's 1,000 more for the Proko that goes with it. That will, therefore, be 2,000 Berry. They must be returned in good condition and their care is your responsibility for the entire duration of the rental."

Nami tried to bargain, and when she reached a price she thought was fair, she paid the man so that you could finally leave with your two Den Den Mushi.

Arriving on the ship, you found Sanji waiting for you to leave and he had prepared hot chocolates for you as well as snacks. So you both settled into the beds in the women's quarters, warm under the covers, with your hot chocolates and snacks.

Nami started the movie and you spent the night pressed together, shaking in fear.

𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 SOURCE | onepiece.fandom.com - Den Den Mushi - The Cameko (カメコ, Kameko, VIZ: "Cam-snail") are baby Visual Den Den Mushi who have yet to gain the ability to display signals from other Visual Den Den Mushi. They are able to store images and videos, as well as transmit them as signals to their adult form, the Proko. - The Proko (プロコ, Puroko, VIZ: "Pro-snail") are an older Visual Den Den Mushi that have gained the ability to receive signals emanating from the Cameko, while simultaneously projecting and disseminating the visual content captured by the Cameko onto larger video displays either via wires connected to a display or by using their eye to project the light.

You just found my 1st Easter Egg!

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞! (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ (・º. • )

𝖚𝖘𝖔𝖕𝖕

pumpkins carving

"Mine is better." Usopp declared confidently as he wielded his scraping tool.

The two of you were sitting face-to-face, cross-legged, on the floor of his workshop. An old blanket was under your buttocks to protect the floor. Between you stood a dozen tools of all kinds, ranging from knives to scrapers to markers as well as, most importantly, two large pumpkins.

It had been at least an hour since Usopp came back with a pumpkin under each arm and asked you to dig one with him. You immediately jumped at the opportunity and, very quickly, this whole experience had turned into a competition.

Who would make the best Jack-o'lantern?

As soon as you had started gutting them—keeping the parts removed so Sanji could cook them, obviously—the sniper was already taunting you. He talked to you about ratios and measurements so that the eyes and mouth were perfectly proportioned to the size of the food.

But you preferred to go by instinct with your marker and your imagination.

Throughout the process, you saw him trying to cheat to see what your Jack-o'lantern looked like from trying to kiss you to peeking into or waiting for you to go to the toilet to go to your side of the blanket. Even after a few strokes with the spatula, he was still trying approaches.

Finally, after two intensive hours of pumpkin carving and with a sticky floor and hands, the Jack-o'lanterns were finished.

Then came the time to decide between you.

Obviously, you each voted for your creations so, to find out the winner, you asked the entire crew to vote for their favorite pumpkin. Unfortunately, the votes didn't help because, after four more votes from each side, you were still tied.

It was only when Sanji called a truce for the meal that you stopped bickering.

Despite this, when evening came, the little arguments were back. So you were still bickering when you were getting ready for bed and then when you were in the bed itself. When you were both exhausted, you decided to declare both winners as well.

Satisfied, you lay down comfortably to sleep. And there, in the crook of his arms, with the warm blanket covering you and his smell of gunpowder surrounding you, he kissed you on the forehead before whispering to you in the dark.

"Mine was better."

𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖏𝖎

winter dessert cooking

The kitchen of the Thousand Sunny was exceptionally mess-like.

Ingredients and dishes were lying all over the counter and it was mainly your fault. Whether it was the pot of honey that wasn't put away, the flour that you had unintentionally sprinkled outside of the bowl or the whisks and spatulas that were lying here and there, it didn't at all resemble Sanji's clean habits.

However, for the moment, he didn't really care.

For him, cooking deliciously smelled of honey and spices. His discerning nose even detected slight traces of citrus and vanilla. Besides, what mainly occupied him was you, in an adorable apron—at his request—who was stirring the dry ingredients in the bowl while keeping a nervous eye on the pan on the stove.

"It’s boiling!" You exclaimed hastily. "Sanji! It's boiling!"

"Pour the liquid into the bowl, then." He laughed at your disheveled but still adorable appearance.

You then rushed to the pan to put out the fire before carefully lifting it to pour its contents into your first container. Then you put the pan down and started stirring again.

"Sanji!" you called him. "There are lumps."

"Stir more." he replied, still leaning on the counter next to you to admire you.

But, instead of stirring more, you suddenly let go of the whip before turning towards him. In passing, you collected a small handful of flour which you threw at him meanly on his own apron. You rested your hip on the counter and crossed your arms before looking into his eyes.

"If I asked to cook this with you," you began."it was to cook WITH you. Not for you to stand and watch me."

At your sulking tone, Sanji just laughed lightly, even though inside he was exultant to see you pouting. So he approached you, smiling, and took your place in front of the bowl to start mixing again for you. Satisfied to finally see him working, you stayed by his side to watch him whip skillfully.

"Amour, can you get me the melted butter, please?" He asked, looking at you. When you returned with the requested ingredient, he temporarily stopped his task to lean towards you and kiss you gently. He finally pulls away from your lips after a short while. "Thank you."

And he mixed the butter with the preparation and poured everything into a dish that he handed to you. He then opened the oven and watched you put the gingerbread in the oven. Once he closed the door, he came up behind you to place kisses on your neck.

"We have 20 minutes of cooking time," he explained to you. "Any ideas for what to do until then?"

𝖗𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓

exploring graveyards

When Robin had asked you earlier in the evening to get ready because she was taking you on a date, you had been ecstatic. You had imagined a walk in a romantic place, a meeting at the library or even, let's be crazy, a restaurant.

Yet, now that you found yourself walking with her through a cemetery, you were starting to regret it a little.

"I'm not sure we're allowed to just wander around here, Robin." You tried, hoping it would get you out of there.

She looked at you.

"It’s not like they’re going to come and complain to anyone." She answered you, smiling.

You smiled back at her even if yours was somewhat shaky. While you were uncomfortable walking around in the middle of the night, with no one around except your partner, among the graves of people you didn't even know, Robin seemed to be peaceful.

Happy even.

So you didn't dare say anything more and you simply took her hand before moving closer to her. But, while her discreet smile on her lips and her almost sparkling eyes told you that she was happy to be there, she said nothing. Not a single word to distract you from the unromantic or even terrifying setting.

The hooting of an owl above you made you jump.

As Robin chuckled at your leap, you asked her why she wanted to come here.

At first, you had simply asked the question to break the silence—and to make her forget your startle—but, as soon as she started to answer you, you were glad you had asked.

In fact, she then began to tell you that she was looking for the tomb of a very well-known researcher in the world of archaeology. Since she started, she continued by telling you what research he had carried out and how it had advanced her study circle. A soft, enjoying smile curled her lips as she spoke quietly and her eyes shone with her passion for history.

You then drank in her words as she focused on her interest in studying skeletons and what it could teach her about the person's life as well as the society that surrounded them before their death. She continued her speech throughout your visit to the cemetery to the point where, when she finally wanted to leave a few hours later, you had not noticed the time had passed.

You had been captivated.

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖔𝖜!

𝖏𝖔𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖚𝖕𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @iheartamora @bontensh0e @opchara @idsmash717 @lys-ada @xomingyu @parkyrr @yasmiinberkaa @dozcan123 @anotherproblemsos

[always-sleeepy-headd]

Idk this was labeled as chicken pox in my google docs but it's Underswap meeting Dream kinda but it's dreamberry and amazing

Summary:

Basically Underswap accidentally meets Dream at an unconventional time and also Swap being not mentally well a little bit. Dream too. Plus, they are engaged by the end!!

Sans has been gone so often recently.

They all noticed it, Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus, Chara, hell even Temmie realized.

On top of that he hasn't been following the script he was set on during and after resets. It just started off simple, looking distracted, skipping over dialogue.

But now, he has managed to miss entire scenes he was supposed to be in. He has started responding in insanely different ways, he has... stopped caring about what the monsters of snowdin thought of him.

That was one of Sans's main things, he would exclaim about how cool he was to hide his own insecurities.

Now he... he seemed so much more distracted, so much so that Papyrus had gone to even Chara about it.

He had this sort of... untouchable aura that he'd never had to him before.

Sans was currently missing from the group right before the monsters break the barrier, he wasn't there during the Temmie fight either. Everyone began to feel uneasy, whether they knew why or not.

"Papyrus...? Where is your brother?" Alphys asked slowly in an attempt to keep herself and everyone else calm.

"I don't know." Papyrus confesses, a sigh ringing out from what mimics a throat. "Sans has been so... strange recently."

The air settled in a tense fog before Alphys let out a frustrated groan, "First he stops showing up at his sentry station in Snowdin, doesn't show up for cooking lessons, hasn't shown up for training and now he's nowhere to be found again?!"

Everyone who knew Sans had to admit that was strange, he was a hard worker and very motivated. Papyrus knew this the best and Sans's newfound disappearances worry him to no end.

Chara spoke up, "I've seen him a total of two times, once for him to briefly attempt to explain the puzzles and second to fight him at the edge of Snowdin. He seemed to be in a hurry both times."

"That is... s-strange based on the things I've heard of him from P-Papyrus." Undyne shyly added, the absence of Sans to comment on them knowing each other felt wrong, even if they knew it to be so or not.

"Yeah! Sans is a hard worker and a relatively happy guy, it doesn't make sense for him to just abandon everyone for hours at a time." Alphys said, crossing her arms in confusion. "He also has unwavering loyalty deep embedded in his bones, it doesn't make any sense."

"This... Sans is close with you Alphys, yes?" The Queen asked, she put a hand on Alphys' shoulder, "Surely he'll have an explanation."

"Maybe so... but this isn't like him at all. I'm... worried." Alphys coffessed, biting her lip in distress.

"This Sans of yours seems to be a good character and quite strong from what I hear, I'm sure he'll be fine." Asgore said in an attempt to console Alphys and probably Papyrus, who for once wasn't smiling.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop and the sound of two voices, they appeared to be arguing over something. The monster's heads all turn towards the noise and suddenly two skeletons come into view, one recognizable as their very own Sans yet the other, dressed in yellow, was unfamiliar.

Sans and this unidentified skeleton were arguing over what was now more clearly made out to be... the difference between affect and effect?

The monsters stood uncomfortably for a moment, watching the duo argue before Queen Toriel cleared her throat. The pair cease their squabbling at once, the yellow one gasping and muttering an apology, bowing to The Queen.

Sans, however, while stopping did not even acknowledge Queen Toriel's existence, eyes still trained on the yellow skeleton.

"No worries, not worries at all, it just seemed you two would never stop if I hadn't intervened." Queen Toriel said, smiling at the yellow skeleton, the skeleton smiled back.

"Yes, well, that may be true." The skeleton sighed, a melodic chuckle escaping his mouth. "But your Sans and I would have resolved it eventually." The skeleton gave a look that came off as almost mischievous to the group, one Sans simply huffed at, a smile finding its way to his face.

"Now, I must ask, who are you two? I've gathered that you," Queen Toriel pointed to Sans, "are Papyrus's brother but I have no knowledge of the other skeleton."

"My name is Dream! I am your friend's... what are we?" Dream stopped mid-conversation to ask Sans a question, one that incited confusion and amusement around them. Not only in the ones unaware but in Sans too, as he began to laugh.

"You're my best friend Dream, and basically my boss." Sans said, a sparkle lit his eyes that they hadn't quite seen before, it made his usual smiles seem terribly forced compared to this.

"Yeah I thought so but sometimes you get really mad at me." Dream huffed, putting a hand on his hip.

Sans looked at Dream with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "Maybe if you wouldn't be crazy I wouldn't be mad."

Dream gasped, "I am so level-headed, just occasionally a little violent."

"Occasionally?"

"Oh you don't even get to talk, you tried to fight some random guy at the bar three weeks ago!"

"Dream he grabbed your waist and tried to get you to swallow a drugged drink. If you'd have let me I would have dusted him."

"I wasn't going to let him, I can handle myself you know? Besides, even if he had managed to drug me he wouldn't have killed me."

"No, because he would have done something much worse, Dream."

While the duo argue, the group watch the scene unfold. All of what Sans had just said felt uncharacteristic of him, especially any talk of murder.

"You don't know that."

Sans wasn't even wearing his battle body, he was wearing a simple black sleeveless turtleneck, he had on a blue coat over it and had on dark blue cargo pants.

"I know if anyone tries to drug you it's because they want to do something to you."

Sans and Dream stood very close to each other, almost brushing arms or hands at any given moment, it was strange as Sans usually stood at a distance from others.

"Maybe but that doesn't change the fact that you genuinely wanted to kill that guy."

Dream had an elegance to him they'd never seen before, his voice was a perfect tenor and slid off of his tongue almost musically. His steps seemed to be in time and the way he moved was delicate.

"I wouldn't say that... I just wanted to... cancel his subscription a little early."

Yet he seemed... as if he had power just radiating off of him.

"Swap! That's literally just murder."

They seemed to complement each other well despite what seemed to be constant bickering.

"Literally okay then, I wanted to murder him but you didn't want me too so it didn't happen." Sans had a look of frustration lining his face but it seemed playful enough.

Again, The Queen cleared her throat, again the two looked sheepishly at her. "Well, it's amazing to meet you both, I believe all of us are quite confused and I'm sure you are as well with the barrier open."

The pair stiffened, seemingly only now realizing the barrier had been broken.

"Goodness, we lost track time!" Dream exclaimed, his hands coming to his mouth in shock and Sans can't help but snicker slightly to the confusion of everyone.

"Y- You didn't feel the barrier break? It was shocking!" Undyne stutters out, fiddling with her hands.

"Oops." Sans shrugged, his behavior was becoming increasingly worrying.

"Maybe we should sit down for a cup of tea?" Asgore suggested, a light smile blooming on his concerned face.

Dream nervously started to pick at his glove, glancing at Sans as if questioning what to do. "The barrier's broken, aren't you guys excited to see the outside world? Surely you must go..." Dream said, grabbing Sans's arm in an attempt to push him ahead of Dream to his friends and family.

"Oh you must come with us!" The Queen exclaimed, "You are a friend of a friend, you are welcome to join us, in fact I insist!"

"O- Oh! I uhm." Dream was almost startled by the offer, he looked as if he were to decline until Sans simply grabbed his arm and smiled.

"Thank you, we will join you." Swap said, pulling Dream's arm to the group.

They then ask Chara if they have anything else to do before they leave as they normally would, Chara said they did and left the barrier area.

As the human left the attention was quickly pointed to Sans and his friend, who were standing in the spot Sans normally would be next to Alphys and Papyrus. They stood very close together, their hands brushed up against the others.

"So... Sans, where have you been recently?" Alphys interrupted the deafening silence.

"I was... busy? I don't know, I've been dealing with a lot of stuff recently that couldn't be put off." Sans shrugged, he seemed distracted.

Dream sighed, "I'm sorry, it's probably my fault." He put a hand on his cheek as he spoke, he looked so... ethereal.

"Nah, if I didn't want to I wouldn't." Sans said with an almost emptiness compared to his usual way of speaking, he put a hand on Dream's shoulder.

Dream smiled up at him, Sans couldn't help but smile back, he exhaled in a fond kind of way.

"So... Sans, you've never talked about your friend here." Papyrus said, his tone was casual but Sans knew it was full of distrust.

"Relax, Dream is practically harmless, unless you piss him off too badly that is." Sans snickered at that last bit, his hand had drifted away from Dream's shoulder and back to where it was almost brushing Dream's hand.

"Oh please." Dream rolled his eyes but they still were filled with a childlike joy. "You said it yourself, I can barely harm a fly."

"Says the one who threw a full bottle of wine at my head one time." Sans deadpanned and Dream almost jumped at the accusation swatting at Sans's shoulder.

"Oh shush, I missed, and you called me a cum slut so it was deserved." At Dream's response Sans let out a flurry of giggles and snickers, the pair had forgotten they had five pairs of eyes on them at the moment.

"I'm honestly surprised either of us remember that I think I had like ten shots of like hard liquor." Sans said, rubbing his head, possibly attempting to remember that night better.

"I remember literally like nothing after that point I was super blackout drunk it was crazy."

Just as someone was about to interject, the human came back and made their presence clear. "I'm back! Let's go to the surface!" As Chara had little to no idea what the conversation that Sans and Dream had been having was, they were just excited to get to the surface... again.

Everyone just tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, they were going to see the surface! They got to finally, finally see the place that their human Chara had come from, meet the people whose ancestors maimed and banished monsters to the underground.

Finally see the stars.

...

Walking out was nothing like any of them could have ever imagined, with the exception of a few. The sun was setting just below the horizon, they stood in awe at what had been withheld from them all their lives.

...All but Sans and Dream.

Sans looked almost depressed looking out on the horizon, it was terribly noticeable. Dream stood next to him, he grabbed Sans's hand and gave it a squeeze.

Watching them, it felt... romantic.

After watching the sun go down Sans's supposed 'best friend' quickly made an excuse to leave, he then rushed off mumbling a few curses under his breath for letting himself stay for so long. They half expected the pair to kiss goodbye but they didn't even hug, simply fist bumping and giggling about it afterward.

They tried to interrogate Sans afterward but it was like a switch turned in his mind, he went back to normal and would only answer questions about Dream in very cryptic ways.

...

"Sans?" Undyne considered speaking, she was unsure if Sans would even answer the question. "Who was that Dream guy?"

It had been years at this point and never heard of Dream again, as if he'd simply come not to exist.

"Huh?" Sans asked, looking up from his phone confused.

"That quote and quote 'friend' of yours that rushed off right as we got to the surface?" Alphys interjected and Sans flushed slightly which was strange.

"He... uh... Oh goodness, how do I even tell you this?" Sans cringed, the room had almost fallen silent apart from the clacking in the kitchen from Asgore washing the dishes.

"Is he alright?" Papyrus asked, a concerned look for his brother falling onto his face.

"Yes! Yes... just uhhh..." Sans rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

Everyone nodded their heads at him expectantly, and Sans let out a sigh.

"Okay I'm just gonna say it!" Sans took a deep breath, "He's my finance."

And then in a blink Sans flushed and then was gone.

Papyrus and Alphys share a glance and say in union, "Shortcut." and let out a sigh.

Both of them have been subjected to such treatment from Sans quite often.

Notes:

AND THEN THEY ALL REALIZED SWAP WAS GETTING AMARREID AND FREAKED THE END

[epicthemusical]

The Crimson Star

the person who made this art is Ardenzia777 on both twitter and instagram so go check them out. the art and prompt/idea is here: https://x.com/Ardent_art1/status/1803866356640542929

WARNING: Non detailed blood and death. Polites is OOC!

Odysseus had just finished laying out his plan to the rest of the soldiers. The trojan horse would be a gamble but at this point in the war everyone was willing to take some risks if it meant finally winning. Everybody is tired and only wish to go home.

Someone  doesn't agree though and follows Odysseus and his second in command, Eurylochus. It doesn't take long for the talk to turn into yelling. Polites notices and walks over to them.

“My friends, what is wrong?” The crew member angrily points at Odysseus.

“Our so-called Captain is going to get us all killed with this absurd plan of his! Not to mention how cowardly it is! How can I be expected to follow a plan like this, a Captain like this?!” Eurylochus flinches slightly side-eying Polites as he sees a flash of anger in his friends eyes that disappears as quickly as it came unseen by everyone except those who know what to look for.

“ You may not like it but Odysseus is still the Captain so please watch what you say.” The guy scoffs at Polite's statement before turning and walking off. Odysseus gives a heavy frustrated sigh

“I will give him some time to cool down. Maybe he will be more receptive to reason tomorrow.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later into the night Eurylochus stands watch on the outskirts of the camp watching for any possible danger to the troops. His mind can't help but wonder to Polites.

Polites is a dear friend, practically a brother. He has known both Polites and Odysseus since they were children, it had always been the three of them for as long as he could remember. He respects both Odysseus for his cunning and Polites for his kindness.

Odysseus always had plans and ideas helping them get out of trouble time and time again while Polites was always there to help others in need. Polites had given no reason for anyone to believe he could be anything but kind and patient, every insult and injury is shrugged off with a smile.

Eurylochus himself had not seen anything but the bright star that is Polites. He could never forget that day, the day he found just how wrong everyone was…

The day the star turned crimson.

They were teenagers at the time running around the town laughing brightly without a care in the world. A Beggar shuffles up to Odysseus covered in rags.

“ Please kind prince, do you have anything to spare for a poor beggar such as myself?” Odysseus paused and frowned.

“ I'm sorry but I dont happen to have anything on me at the moment.” Instead of leaving, the beggar seems a little frustrated.

“You must be lying, you are the prince, surely you must have something you can give.” Odysseus shakes his head

“No i'm afraid i really don't have anything i could give you” At this the beggar becomes angry

“Is this how the prince of this kingdom treats those less fortunate? You have so much wealth and power and you still won't share it with a poor beggar? You are greedy and do not deserve to be royalty! “ The beggar then storms off leaving Odysseus stunned.They end up trying to forget about what had happened but Eurylochus senses something is wrong with Polites.

Polites leaves early mentioning he had something he needed to do while Odysseus also leaves to go home saying his goodbye. Eurylochus is about to go home as well when he remembers how Polites had seemed off somehow ever since the incident with the beggar. He finally decided to follow Polites home to make sure he is okay.

As he comes by an alley way he hears a struggle and he goes to check it out. He finds someone holding a knife dripping with blood and- is that a body?! Eurylochus quickly hides as the killer turns around and suddenly he can't breathe.

This can't be right, that isn't Polites. Eurylochus is not able to understand what he is seeing. It may look like Polites but those eyes were ice cold and uncaring nothing like the warm brown eyes he has always had.

Eurylochus feels like he is in the presence of a predator and turns around running as fast as he can. He never told anyone what he had seen.

He shakes himself out of the terrifying memory. He never wants to see that look on Polite's face ever again.He sees Nekros walking into the woods with Polites and despite knowing what will happen he can't bring himself to try and stop it.

Those eyes already haunt him and it wasn't even aimed at him; he would prefer not to get on his bad side.Besides Polites only does this to help Odysseus so it's not like he is in the wrong, right?

Despite trying to convince himself of that fact his heart feels heavy and inaction leaves him aching.

—-----------------------------------

Polites leads Nekros deep into the woods, filtering out anything the man has to say. When they were far enough away he abruptly stops.

“Hey Polites, what did you need to talk about with me that requires us to be so far from camp?” Polites doesn't turn around and Nekros feels a shiver go up his spine but he shrugs it off. It's just Polites, he would never be dangerous at least not to the crew.

“You know it's not very often that I get mad. I prefer solving problems without fighting. Everyone knows this but you have crossed a line.” Polite's hand rests on his sword

“Huh? What are you talking about? Oh you mean the trojan horse plan? I was just voicing my concerns” with shocking speed Polites has the man pinned to a tree. At last he sees Polite's eyes and Nekros can't help but tremble, staring with wide eyes into Polite's own ice cold and uncaring.

“Of course you're allowed to have concerns. I wouldn't have minded if that was all but you went too far. Odysseus is the reason so many have stayed alive, the reason you yourself have survived and yet you call him a coward? He has done so much more for this war than you have. Your arguing in front of the crew will cause problems for Odysseus and I can't let that happen.” Polite's gaze has a flash of fire in the icy depths and a sneer on his face.

“Nobody is allowed to disrespect Odysseus. Any last words?”

The man struggles to free himself from Polite's grip to no avail, his desperation only causing the hold to tighten.

“What would Odysseus think of you?! He would not agree to this!” Polites smirks before whispering in his ear

“What Odysseus doesn't know won't hurt him.” Polites raises the sword to the throat and with one slice it is over, Life blood draining onto the forest floor.

He lets the body fall to the ground making sure to wipe his blade on the man's clothes. He looks down at his own blood soaked clothes and proceeds to drag the corpse to a hollow tree, placing it inside hiding it from view.

He washes himself off in a nearby stream before replacing his clothes with blood free ones he had placed beforehand.

One last check seeing nothing out of place Polites heads back to camp satisfied with the fact Nekros would never be able to disrespect Odysseus again.

—------------------------------------------------------------------

Odysseus walks through the camp looking for Nekros when he runs into Polites and he immediately lights up.

“Hello Polites! Do you happen to know where Nekros is? I need to talk with him about yesterday.” Polites gives one of his sunshine smiles

“Don't worry i already talked with him about it. He won't cause anymore problems for you.” Odysseus relaxes

“Thank you Polites. What would I ever do without you?” Polites slings his arm on Odysseus’s shoulders

“Anytime my brother I will always have your back!” Odysseus laughs before walking off to make sure everything is still in order.

Nobody sees the quick flash of darkness in Polite's eyes. That's right as his star Polites will do anything to keep Odysseus happy and safe. If the star has to shine crimson sometimes then so be it.

[aylish91]

Ok so you are one of my favorite writers and I've been wanting to request this for awhile but wanted to wait until you aren't bombarded

Can you write a small drabble of either reaper or error or both giving cuddles (or whatever you think they'd give sense error has hephophobia and in some au's reaper kills what he touches) or them just comforting reader

No worries if not, I hope you have an amazing day and your work always makes me smile and I look forward to seeing what you post :)

Aaawe! Thank you so much! It makes me so happy that you like my writing!

I made an Error drabble for you! Somehow cuddles also turned into confessions though, so I hope that's okay. I will have to drag out my Reaper boy after I get the other requests done for ya.

I'm sure he would love to come out and play~ ; )

Confessions

~ ~ ~

“Hey, Error?”

The only indication your friend had heard you were the huff of air and sideways glance he sent your way.

You were tired. So very very tired. You tried not to lean more into his side.

“Sometimes, when I look at you, I just want... I just want to kiss you. You make living in this dying world worth it.” When all was silent except for the increasing buzz of glitches, you pressed forward to put the metaphorical nail in your coffin.

“I think I love you.”

A choking sound.

“W-w-wHaT?!

You fell asleep to the sound of one of his stuttering crashes. You didn’t want to think about how embarrassing your admission was. You hadn’t even bothered to look at him the whole time you had sleepily drawled your confession. You knew he wouldn’t feel the same, the guy only used this place to vent and hide away for a bit. But, you needed to get it off your chest. Your world was on its last leg and there was no telling if you’d ever get another chance before it all ended.

Perhaps that had been a mistake.

…

One month, three days.

You hadn’t seen or heard from him for one month and three days.

It hurt, but a part of you was almost glad. It saved you from whatever rejection he was going to come up with. As it was, you doubted it even mattered. Your world had finally given out. The void was calling, and no man was going to stop it from claiming what it was owed.

Everything felt disembodied and heavy as reality disappeared around you. All you could do was close your eyes one last time and sleep, knowing full well there would be no tomorrow to wake up to.

At least near the end, you had someone who made it worth it.

…

“p-PiX-xeL-L-l !!!”

…

Warmth was the first thing that you took note of. A pleasant, perfect warmth. The kind that makes you never want to move again because you and the universe had aligned while you’d slept. The next thing you noticed was the rhythmic rise and fall going on beneath you. It was enough to ignore it for a while, but eventually, your confused curiosity got the better of you. Stirring, you opened your eyes and looked around.

Everything was glaringly white as far as the eye could see outside of the little area you were in. Familiar blue strings draped down in droves around you, some connected to little skeleton dolls, while others held glowing cartoonish hearts. Looking down, you found you were sunk into a giant bean bag chair. But that wasn’t all.

Directly beneath you, without your usual blanket barrier, was your missing bone friend. He had you pressed against his chest, one hand on your back while the other rested on your waist. It was the first time in the whole history of your friendship that you had ever had so much of yourself touching him.

Your heart thudded within your chest. Glancing up at his face, you froze.

Error, the Destroyer, stared down at you, yawning then... pulling you... closer...

“Either get up, or stop move-moving, Pixel.”

…

Pixel?

You were so confused!

Where were the angry glitchy shouts? Where was the gnashing of teeth while he pushed you away? Where were the threats of violence and death or those tight blue strings?

He sighed, looking away. “Don’t think-k-k about it. I only saved you out of bor-ordom.”

Of course! You were alive! Gaping back, emotion squeezed at your chest. 

“You saved-but what about… you said…"

His grip tightened, an annoyed growl rumbling in his chest. “I changed my mind! It’s n-n-not like I LoVe yOu too.”

Oh. Oh!

It all clicked.

Pressing your face back against his chest, you clung to him with the goofiest of grins, your overjoyed laughter muffled by the soft fabric of his sweater. “You dumb stupid bastard.”

“Hey!”

“Never change.”

He didn’t seem to know what to say or do with that, quietly letting you finish laughing while he slowly relaxed back into the bean bag. You in turn melted more into him, knowing now he was more than okay with you. 

You wanted to laugh more, maybe even cry as you absorbed all that was him.

Error had other ideas.

After a long while of silence, he took a steadying breath, shakily lifting a hand to slowly run his fingers through your hair. You let him, enjoying the closeness and sensation it left on your scalp. You were glad he seemed more than content with your cuddle pile.

It was enough to almost lull you back to sleep until you caught his soft muttering above you. 

“…You’re… soft.”

It made you giggle again, allowing yourself to snuggle even further into his warmth. “Thank you. I love you too.”

You could feel more than see as a surplus of error symbols formed around him and his face glowed. “I, you-ou-ou! Shut up!”

You only smiled up at him.

Life was going to be quite the adventure from this moment on. 

You couldn’t wait to share it with him.

[hanlimz]

JUNGWONSPIDERMANAU

cass. pls dont say that and just. LEAVE. expand. i would like to hear your thoughts 🎤

bc truly spider-man/peter parker was my first love and personally i have had the idea for a jake as spider-man au for quiet a bit now but it has never really taken off but now i NEED to hear all your thoughts.

(also if u have any good spider-man au fic recs pls send them my way thnx 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩)

PLSSS I COULD TALK FOREVER!!!! BUT OKAY—here are some bullet points plus a small blurb/summary/idk? i literally am going to write so much im so SORRY??? (this has convinced me n i will be writing a fic LMAOO)

(+ two vvvv good spiderman fic recs!!)

it’s safe here (with me) by @enhypenandpaper !! | very cute story, well-written, i love when writers can put their own unique spin on scenes that inspire them it’s rly motivating and wonderful (i need to rb this on my fic rec blog asap) (jake x reader)

i’ll save you (again) by @jayflrt !! | amazing stupendous wonderful show-stopping ,, literally one of my Favorite reads on this app .. this author manages to encapsulate both spiderman And jake sosososo well .. they also make it a point to rly flesh out the other friendships mentioned and I Love That (jake x reader)

general hcs (?):

won is the dorkiest spiderman ever .. stutters over his quips, never has anything cool to say to the villains he fights, doesn’t know how to respond to ppl thanking him

one time someone he saved tried to ask for his number and he panicked and said he was banned from both t-mobile and verizon (he’s not btw)?? 

another time he just got done saving a group of ppl n said “no thneeds necessary” ?? bc he was trying to say “no need to thank me” n “no thanks necessary” at the same time

but he’s also the sweetest .. any time someone asks to “repay him” he’s a double it n give it to the next person kinda guy .. he always tells them to stop by the soup kitchen or donate old clothes to thrift stores or just be kind to someone else

also ,, on another note ,, won has the Biggest crush on u and knows u like to help out at the local preschool, so he always tells ppl to buy and donate extra school supplies

sometimes when he’s out patrolling late at night, he’ll see u on ur way home from the library n quietly follow u to make sure u get home safe

tries to talk to u once after seeing a spiderman article open on ur computer and u indulge him for a moment, saying how bad u felt abt the daily bugle’s tabloid pieces .. won’s p sure his heart exploded

but overall, he’s very gentle and kind .. ever the king of duality tho .. he can beat a bitch up when need be, but most of the time—won’s just a high school senior trying to get into MIT and make the person he’s been in love with since the beginning of fall semester feel the same way abt him

ANYWAYS in a high school!au setting i see a lot of ppl like to hc jungwon as class/stuco president, but i think he’s definitely more on the quiet side .. he’s popular, yes, but not too popular if that makes sense. for him, though, this is perfect ... he flies under the radar, and him missing school a couple days in a row every month or so goes virtually unnoticed. HOWEVER, you’ve always had a sneaking suspicion .. it’s not like you and won are Rivals—there would be no merit in picking an unnecessary fight with the boy who volunteers at the soup kitchen on the weekends and feeds the stray cats near the gym and asks the lunch ladies how their days are going—but, there’s something strange going on. you’re sure of it.

jungwon comes into school one day w a busted lip and a black eye. everyone is fawning over him, asking him what happened—did he get mugged, did his face hurt, did he give the other person a run for their money? you don’t bother checking in on him when he takes his seat next to you. you just hand him his calculus test (he did better than you again n it’s infuriating) and clench your jaw, willing yourself to disappear. that familiar, green monster hangs in the shadows behind you, and its breath fans across your neck as it attempts to coax a physical manifestation of jealously from your lips. eventually, you excuse yourself to the nurse’s office and skip the rest of the day.

later that night, you’re trying to study in your room, but you keep getting distracted by the daily bugle’s twitter updates. spiderman is out and about again, and they won’t let the poor guy’s good reputation rest. it’s all “spiderman fights villain and knocks over streetlight onto local man’s car” and “spiderman forgoes saving lady’s churro to destroy half of grand central station”—and, honestly, you feel a bit bad. he’s trying his best. but, as rain patters against your window, the sound threatens to lull you to sleep. exhaustion overtakes your body, your eyes are drooping, and your head keeps falling from your hands. and then BOOM—the loudest noise you’ve ever heard startles you from your fatigue-induced trance. with a look of fear in your eyes, you glance over your shoulder to look at the window and the sight that greets you is enough to freeze every molecule in your body.

the aforementioned hero is clinging to the side of your building, banging his fist on the glass and practically begging to be let in. his movements are frantic and a bit scary. you open the window as quick as you can and let him slide through the small gap you’ve created. there are copious tears in his suit, blood flows from a nasty gash on his shoulder. rushing around on some crude form of auto pilot, you grab a clean shirt from your closet and press it into his wound. you tell him to hold it there and instruct him to sit in your desk chair. he's sopping wet from head to toe, and all you manage to think about is how glad you are that your parents are away for the weekend.

eventually, after only almost vomiting once, the cut is clean and bandaged up. "you're so lucky that i've been trying to get rid of this shirt forever, mr. spiderman," you scoff as he perches on the sill of your window, preparing to swing away into the night. "if i had grabbed one of my favorite outfits, i would've killed you before that wound could have."

a giggle escapes from his lips, and for a moment, you find yourself taken aback. he sounds like a high schooler—young, lively, and everything but the twenty-something year old man you thought he would be. "sorry about that ... i'll have to swing by and drop off some laundry detergent one of these days," he laughs. his voice sounds so familiar, but your mind is still reeling from your recent discovery. the hero offers you a wave and gestures toward his previous seat. "sleep well—and, good luck on that calculus homework."

the next day at school, jungwon is nowhere to be seen. you thank whatever happens to reside in the sky that he can't see the bright red 67 at the top of your most recent calculus test. the next next day, however, jungwon comes in with his arm in a sling. as his seatmate, you're the one that has to help him out for the rest of the week. but, when you're sitting in free period, you happen to take another glance at the bandages around his shoulder as jungwon naps next to you. a sharp column of ice pierces through your lower abdomen; under jungwon's sling, the lowest layer of bandages are covered with dried blood and sweat.

they look eerily familiar. almost like the ones you used to patch spiderman up over the weekend.

but, jungwon couldn't be spiderman. he couldn't be—he's too sweet, too gentle, too kind. peeking over at his backpack, you note that it seems a bit bulkier today; a recognizable purple cap winks at you from the unzipped main pocket. a chill tickles the length of your spine as you register what happened to be resting against his class notebooks.

laundry detergent?

you pause for a moment.

oh.

oh god.

[sloaaaa]

Side order first impressions!!

THIS. GAME. IS. GORGEOUUUSSSS AAAHHAGHAHH OH MY FUCKINGNGNHNHNGN CODDDD 10/10 GAVE MYSELF A HEADACHE BINGING IT THE ENTIRE DAY 9AM TO 11PM

ahem. very first thing i noticed was the bg elements being in sync w the music on ohhhohgh my holy fuck whatever nintendo is doing w microdosing their games w some rhythm game elements it is fucken wORKING.

i noticed the ink is shimmery like it was in splat2's finalfest ink, and also when you walk/swim in it it sounds like sand??? i Did not like that bc of The Phantom Textures it gave me at first but it's a really cool concept!!!

ok from here or there r gonna be SPOILERS going from light to heavy bc i finished this thing on like my fourth run(???? genuinely didn't think i would finish it so fast, i was really hoping to savour it better but the hyperfixation really locked in 😭😭😭) so um yeah SPOILER WARNING don't say i didn't warn u :p

ok first off, acht. UGH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. I LOVE HOW ANIMATED ALL THE CUTSCENES ARE HRRRNGNNGRH. AND THE MUSIC?? OF THE TUTORIAL BOSS????? IS SO FUCKING COOL HELLO???? I DID NOT EXPECT TO SEE MARINA SO SOON, WHY DID NINTENDO FRAME HER DISAPPEARANCE LIKE THAT 💥💥💥💥💥💥

also aGENT 4 MENTIONN!!!!! i'm kind of really sad that the intensifying_harmony(? i forgor the name) boss fight didn't at least have a Trace, a Hint, a Crumb that it was agent 4 somewhere in there. i thought that bc we were given agent 4's palette so early that she was gonna at least have sOME part in side order but no 😭😭

speaking of side bosses the very first time i encountered the layered rotating one i was like. genuinely scared when the ambience when out as i rode the cage to the stage n then the music just blasted 😭😭 but i think its gotta be my fav bos fight of the three :] i'm particularly fond of its soundeffects n such! idk what it is abt them but they're like a safe horror to me if that makes sense hshfkf

and the final boss,, ohhhhohggh myhccod that was the most cathartic boss fight ever. again with the rhythm elements it makes everything so satisfying!! AND THE PART WHERE YOU LITERALLY HAVE TO TAP TO THE RHYTHM. I SCREAMED. OTH FEAT DEDF1SH. AAAUGAHAUAGH ACHT AND MARINA DJING TOGETHER, ACHT'S GAYASS PIERCINGS. N THEIR SINGING VOICE IS SO PRETTY FUUUUCKCJHCHCGCH

n then after that, the 30f boss u fight after having completed the spire once already,, I LOVE THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS THERE SO MUCH 😭😭😭😭 and smollusk,, what the fuck is up with that guy (lovingly)

aHAHCH I AM SO EXCITED TO PLAY SOME MORE WTF but also i burned myself out way too quick by playing for so long nonstop jshdkjfl

[aaron-is-comatose]

okay sleep token oc lore moment

this is loosely based off of the actual sleep token lore, i had this idea starting from last night jkfdsjkdf

also, i know sleep canonically goes by he / him prns, my version goes by they / them mainly because it makes more sense for my lore. also nonbinary god :3

all i have currently is how sleep can take advantage of someone, how sleep lures people into a dreamworld (sort of), and what happens when someone is fully within sleep's grasp. anyway, all my current lore is under the cut

sleep can take advantage of weakness. a weakness can be feelings of insecurity, a bad situation that may be happening, a bad mental / emotional state, etc.

the way sleep can take advantage of this is by giving you things you want in your dreams, how that happens im not too sure of yet, i have an idea of sleep transporting you into a dream world where you get to experience things being right, or whatever you may want. I do know that sleep likes to tease people by only giving those dreams Sometimes in the beginning. partly as a way to also test people, to see if they are most likely to fall for sleep. once that's been established, people can get access to the dream world much more often, and may even get to experience it nightly.

sleep may also get to appear in dreams but it might be in different forms, whichever works best on who's dreaming.

as for costumes, i kinda feel like this is such an obvious idea now as a whole, but i love the idea of the masks and costumes being a way for sleep to take away your identity. the more time you spend in sleep's dreamworld, the less you remember about yourself, and the more you become a vessel for sleep.

and the consequence of losing yourself to the dreamworld is by flat out not existing in the real world anymore. i don't know if anyone has heard stories of people just randomly disappearing, not for foul play, but it would be something like that !! i just find that concept so interesting :p

I also really like sleep as an example of a bad coping mechanism !! here's some messages I sent my partner explaining the idea (also included is an idea for what missing victims of sleep would look like in the real world).

anyway, i think that's all the oc lore i have so far !! i might edit this if or when i come up with more things :p hopefully this all makes sense

[narrynukezankielover]

There’s 3 ways to look at the ep The French Mistake. 1. They have mentioned Days Of Our Lives, Gilmore Girls and House Of Wax which means in the Supernatural world the actors Jensen and Jared exist (they may have mentioned other things that they have been in and shows and movies Misha has been in but these are the ones I’m familiar with). So there is the possibility that in their universe there is a show called Supernatural (Sam said not many people watch the show so it could be that they just never heard of the show) based on the books Chuck writes which is why all the details are correct. Which means there is the possibility that the angel (still can’t spell his name right hopefully I’ll learn) put Dean in that Jensens body and Sam into that Jareds body but that would mean a shit load of doppelgängers. In the Supernatural world that wouldn’t be a big shock. 2. They were sent to the actual real world. Again they could have been put into the bodies of the actors if not then where are the real Jensen and Jared? How did they disappear right when Dean and Sam showed up and if they are in their bodies wouldn’t they have their memories? Yet they don’t. Cas didn’t get sent to that world so how is it that Cas is gone off doing whatever yet Misha is there doing the show? Cas was in on the plan so wouldn’t that also mean that Cas knows he is being played by an actor? Plus Dean takes the script out of Mishas hand. Would he think about how it’s not the angels or god telling Chuck what to write it’s done random person writing a script to their lives. 3. They were sent to another universe which is what Misha said in the ep but who knows if it’s the truth. That would explain Misha being an asshole (it was extremely funny) and since our Misha is so sweet that would make sense. Again they could’ve been put into the actors bodies but again they don’t have their memories so if they didn’t get put into their bodies where are the actual actors. This ep was great but it hurt my head to think about this stuff. I probably took a simple fun ep and thought way too much about it. Best part was “the attractive crying guy” even in the show Misha is attractive. At least they know it. He used both his Cas voice and his regular voice in one scene yet Dean or Sam didn’t say anything. I kinda want one of them to ask him what happened to his voice. Sam saying the best part is there’s no angels got a different reaction from Dean.

He looks sad and worried that no angels means no Cas.

“You have me confused with the other angel. The one in the dirty trench coat that is in love with you.” Definitely one of my favourite lines so far. When he called Cas Sams boyfriend he didn’t react just said “Cas can’t help me.” That’s someone who isn’t hiding anything and just didn’t feel the need to correct him yet with Dean he got an eye roll.

That’s a “ya right an angel is in love with me.” After Cas being a fallen angel for Dean, helping to stop the apocalypse, dropping everything in heaven to come help Dean when he prays to him and telling him at least twice that he’s done all this stuff for Dean Dean still either doesn’t realize Cas feelings or because he is still denying his own feelings he chooses to not believe Cas loves him.

There’s a little moment in Frontierland where Rachel tells Dean how he needs to know his place and that basically Deans problems mean nothing compared to what is going on in heaven.

She says she’s Cas friend and you can see when Dean smiles in Deans head he’s thinking I’m more then a friend to Cas. It’s like he knows it but won’t say it. Then Cas appears to defend Dean.

I’m sorry but I don’t remember the name of this ep but I have found my absolute favourite line in the show “Cas get outta my ass.” The fact that it’s not even a sexual scene makes it great but Bobby and Sam obviously know how close Cas and Dean are and probably have figured out that they have feelings for each other since they both know that Cas is more willing to come if Dean prays to him then if either of them do it. Dean saying why does it have to be him and that Cas is busy and don’t live in his ass kinda proves that Dean isn’t admitting stuff to himself. They spend the entire ep bickering like a couple. It was adorable. Then later in the ep when they find out Cas might’ve lied to them about killing Crowley Bobby and Sam seem a bit pissed and confused.

Dean looks worried. It’s like he knows now that Cas is dealing with a lot in heaven and on earth and Dean seems to be worried about how it’s affecting Cas.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Darkness Before Dawn (Leave Hope's Light On)"

This week's Self Promo fic is another older chaptered CS story that I am bringing back “out of the vault” lol ;p.  Though there will certainly be some angst this time around, there is also a happy ending - I promise. This one is a post-Christmas/New Year's themed one, and it takes place between the 4a and 4b timelines of the show (i.e. after the defeat of the Snow Queen, but before Gold returns with the Queens of Darkness) and diverges from there.

Summary: A lovely holiday season has come and gone, and Emma hates to see it end. However, much more pressing concerns quickly take precedence when she and Henry are in a wreck. Now the Savior is fighting for her life, and those who love her can only hope she'll find her way out of the darkness one more time...

*Also available on AO3 and ff.net, if you would prefer...

(I've posted all five parts in this Tumblr post for ease of reading)

by: @snowbellewells

i. prologue

Only three days after Christmas, and Emma Swan finds herself driving Henry back to Regina's where he will stay until New Year's Day. She can't help but feel that the holiday has passed her by in a flash, and she is loath to give up the sense of her first real Christmas with her family, and especially her son, around her. Though she is ridiculously grateful that she and Regina have worked out a schedule agreeable to both of them and Henry; now she is afraid that with Henry gone for several days, all the leftover bits of holiday magic, pure, innocent joy, and the light that might still be lingering, will go with him.

Shaking her head, Emma sighs as she glances across at her son in the passenger seat, lost to the newest app on his iPhone and luckily oblivious to her gloomy thoughts. There is no doubt in her mind that she is being more than a bit silly, but that doesn't make the feeling disappear. Realistically she knows that Regina truly needs Henry right now; he is the one bright spot in a horrible time of loss for the formerly Evil Queen. Emma doesn't want to begrudge the other woman what little joy she can find. Yes, Henry needs to spend the time with his adoptive mother, but Emma still hates to see him go, even for a few days. So much of Emma's life has been spent alone, with no one to care about her, much less be there to share Christmas traditions, and she feels a near-insatiable need to horde the precious moments now that she has them.

It has been more fun that she could have guessed taking Henry to her mom and dad's to help them trim the tree, watching F rosty the Snowman and How the Grinch Stole Christmas , helping Snow bake dozens and dozens of sugar cookies, both to decorate and eat themselves, and then passing the rest out to seemingly everyone in town. She wants to make the warm and jolly December evenings they've spent laughing cozily together last forever, so she will never lose the feeling of being curled up between Killian, whose arm stretches lazily along the back of the couch and over her, and her father, chuckling at Henry as he makes faces to entertain his baby uncle and exclaims over his presents. Emma knows they all felt similar emotions at times, like when her watery eyes met her mother's over the boys' heads and a lump rose in her throat. This year has brought her more of a holiday that she could have ever imagined having a part in as a cynical, unwanted foster child years ago. Killian's arms have tightened around her numerous times in the last few days, and she has known that he understands all too well from the life he had lived. Her father seems to find every possible moment to squeeze her hand in his, as if reminding her that they had always wanted her with them like this.

Without realizing it, Emma lets her mind wander and loses focus for the briefest of instants. It happens so quickly that cause or fault will never be clear. Emma only glances at Henry beside her for a moment; takes her glance off the road no longer that she would need to adjust the heat or the radio volume. Yet, somehow, they hit an unseen patch of black ice on the wintry road, going at full travel speed. The Bug skids, back end fishtailing out one way, and then almost up even with the front, putting the vehicle perpendicular to its original path on the pavement. Emma scrambles to right them, and Henry calls out a warning, but it happens too slowly and isn't enough. Their little yellow car shoots offcourse, seemingly flying from the road and directly into a pole at the shoulder.

Mother's instinct makes Emma's arm dart out in a desperate effort to shield her son, and she feels – with both hope and fear – some of her magical energy leaving her fingertips almost like second nature, in an attempt to protect him. It is the last thing she feels before impact, and then her world goes dark.

ii. the call

"Mom! Mom!" Henry snaps out of the daze he hovered in after the sudden stop and the settling of the car. He can see snowflakes falling thickly through the cracked windshield, and bitterly cold air is filtering in, though he doesn't remember it snowing before they skidded. If his mom had not told him the Snow Queen was dead, and actually hadn't been evil, he would blame the unseen ice and strange drop in temperature while they were vulnerable on her. It doesn't really matter now, but he is still trying to get his bearings and stop his head from spinning. For an odd second or two, it’s like he is in a vacuum; roaring in his ears and dizziness makes him off balance and sluggish, but when his mind clears and he sees his birth mother slumped over the steering wheel, a thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face, eyes closed, not moving, his concern bursts through the haze.

Henry realizes that she must have used her magic to cushion him somehow and didn't have time to do the same for herself. Yet, even as he registers what she has done, the air around him seems to waiver, flicker, and whatever shield she put in place weakens and fades, allowing him to reach beyond it and touch her carefully, worriedly, enough to see that she makes no response.

"Mom…can you hear me?" he tries again. When he still gets no movement or reaction, Henry begins scrabbling around in the seat, then on the floor, until he finds his phone where it has fallen in the confusion. Swiping the screen quickly, Henry calls his other mom, then his Gramps, in rapid succession – once he has gotten an ambulance on its way.

As far as the teen can tell, nothing seems to hurt and he is completely uninjured. The car is caved in clear to the windshield from where it smashed into the pole head-on, but his door isn't blocked. He can get out, but is determined not to leave his mom until help arrives. Whatever Emma did to shield him came at the expense of her own safety, and Henry swallows back both guilt and fear for her at that knowledge. He is momentarily glad to be alone when he feels tears welling in his eyes.

Reaching over the console to grasp his mom's fingers in his, Henry threads them together and forces himself to hope it will all be fine. Her skin feels cold to the touch, and his brow furrows in concern. "Come on, Mom. Hang in there," he murmurs to her fervently, leaning in as though he can assure that she will hear him. "Please."

For some reason, as the silence stretches on and Henry worries more the longer she remains still, he realizes who he has forgotten to call in his anxiety. Killian will have to be told and will be crazed with worry for his mom. How he didn't think to call his mom's boyfriend until now baffles him. Killian will be frantic to get to Emma, to help, to see that she is okay, and he deserves to be with her. Henry genuinely likes the reformed pirate. He has more than earned his place at Emma's side. Hating what he knows it will do to the Captain, Henry also can't put this call off. Dialing once more, the young man waits as he hears the phone ring two, then three, times before Killian Jones picks up, sounding half-confused, half-exasperated at the modern contraption in his hand.

His accent is clear through the wire as he asks, "Henry? What is it, lad? Are you alright?"

"Yes, Captain, I'm fine. Just listen to me, okay?" Henry swallows hard, not sure what to say, how to deliver what he knows will be an awful blow. Yet, one glance at his mom's still, expressionless face, and he knows he has no choice … Killian might even be able to reach her. Henry is no fool. Both sets of his grandparents are True Loves – and he sees something just as deep and strong, if not as clearly understood, between his mom and Killian.

"Aye, lad," the Captain's voice breaks back in to agree. "My apologies. I will simply listen then."

Henry draws in a deep breath. He hates having to put this into words, but then blurts it out in a pained rush, not trailing off until the end. "Mom and I had a wreck. The ambulance is on its way, and they'll help, but Mom hasn't woken up yet. She's hurt, and I thought you should know what was happening. …I'm sorry…"

Drawing in such a sharp breath it sounds like he has taken a physical blow, Killian is stunned by the news. His chest tightens at the mere thought of Emma and Henry in pain or danger, and his mind is already racing to where she is and how quickly he can get there, what he can do. Yet, in the next moment, he knows there is something else he must take care of first. He can tell immediately by the lad's tone that he is already feeling guilt at being alright when Emma is not, and also at having to be the bearer of such awful news. He speaks firmly, and with intent when he responds. "No, lad, none of that. You need not apologize. You did not cause this, and you should not feel sorry at being unharmed. I have no doubt that is how Emma wanted it. Understood?"

Henry nods reluctantly before realizing that Killian can't see him, then manages a begrudging, "Understood."

"Where are you?" Killian asks, already moving around his rented room at Granny's to throw on his coat and grab the grey knitted scarf that Emma had brought him just a few days ago with a gentle smile and concern that he would take a chill. He is already reaching for the door as he adds, "I'm on my way to you, just tell me the direction."

"Head to the hospital – that's where we'll be."

"I will see you there, lad. I'm starting off as we speak."

"Killian," Henry breaks in again, strangely sounding as if he wants to reassure his mom's boyfriend, even though he is the one who has been in the wreck and is sitting beside his unconscious mother, "I know you were there once. Remember, they patched you up, even though you'd been hit by a car. They kept my gramps alive when he would have died for sure in the Enchanted Forest. They kept me stable when I ate the poisoned apple. They'll help Emma too. They have to! She's going to be alright. Just…I'll see you there, okay?"

"Aye, of course, lad," Killian assures, hearing both the pleading note in the boy's voice and the need to have his hope confirmed. The pirate already feels himself growing more frantic every second, wondering just how bad it is, but he can still try to give her boy a bit of comfort before he gives into his own fear. Though he speaks calmly to Henry, the desperate thoughts are already swirling inside his head. 'What if she doesn't wake? ' His beautiful, blunt, brave sheriff-princess, and he might never speak to her again, nor see her lovely green eyes sparkle with mischief. Killian shakes his head roughly, forcing that line of thought away. 'Not again. Not this time. Swan is strong. She will come back to me.' Killian has to believe that he will not suffer the loss of someone else he loves; even his life cannot be so cruel. "I'll be there as fast as I possibly can," he finishes saying to Henry, hoping the boy will be somewhat appeased; it’s all he has to offer.

"Good. Come find Gramps and me when you do, alright? ... And Killian?" Henry's voice fades for a moment, then adds, "You be careful. Mom will need you when she wakes up."

~~~~~000~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After hanging up the phone, Henry lets out a breath of relief. Things aren't really any better, but the part he had been dreading is done. He looks back over to Emma, covering her hand with his own still-growing one, trying not to dwell on the chill to her skin. "Killian's on his way. Neither one of us want to lose you, Mom. I know you've had to do it a lot, but keep fighting. Stay with us."

Soon he hears sirens blaring, and then his grandpa peals up behind them in the town's outdated patrol car and runs to the Bug, ambulance wheeling in right behind him. Next thing Henry knows, David is jerking open the door and crushing his grandson to his chest. "Henry! Are you alright?!" he asks, drawing in a sharp breath as he sees his injured daughter over Henry's head. The EMTs are already easing her out of the car and onto a backboard for the trip to the hospital, and all he can really do is clasp Henry to him more tightly and watch. He feels the boy shaking slightly, even as he tries so hard to be strong. As a father, he wants to ask so many questions about his daughter. 'Has she spoken at all?' 'Opened her eyes?' 'What made her lose control of the car?' But he holds back, comforting his daughter's child instead. There is nothing he can do to help beyond that anyway.

Easing Henry out and guiding him with a hand around his shoulders, David ushers his grandson into the cruiser, studiously ignoring the sniffles the teen is trying to hide. He rounds the front of the vehicle, sliding behind the wheel and immediately turning it around to follow the ambulance. Still, he brakes for a moment, making eye contact with Henry and holding it determinedly. "She’s going to be fine. Trust me," he vows, knowing he shouldn't make such a promise, but unable to believe anything else. His daughter has been through so much to find her happy ending; it cannot be taken from her now. He hears Snow's eternally optimistic voice in his head, telling them to keep hoping, and he will not do anything less.

Henry merely nods in acceptance of his words though, and silence settles over them again as they make their way to the hospital.

iii. keeping vigil

Killian Jones cannot turn off the fear that has overtaken his mind – the worries for her, and the feelings of helplessness, that there is nothing he can do for Emma. He spends the whole walk – more run really – to the hospital with his heart in his throat, feeling it trying to choke him, in almost as much agony as when the Crocodile had held the organ and squeezed it in torture. His heart might as well be ash without her.

Unwanted visions of Emma lying pale and cold, as Milah had in death so long ago on the deck of his ship, flit across his brain – vicious waking nightmares that he cannot seem to banish. It pains him that he is already thinking the worst, when he knows he should not. Just as he once told Emma himself, his Swan too is a survivor. She has been proving so her entire life, and certainly as long as he has known her. Still, Killian cannot quell the near-paralyzing fear; he has lost everyone he ever loved, and he will not survive the loss of Emma as well, nor does he wish to.

Upon reaching Storybrooke General, Killian barrels into the ER, searching for Henry and David anxiously, and finding them in hard, plastic chairs in the waiting room to the right. "Henry! Dave!" he calls out, rushing toward them even as he gets their attention. "Have you had any news? How is she? Can we see her?" He does not mean to deluge them with questions, or to seem frantic in front of her worried son and her father, but he must know.

"Easy, Hook," David cautions, reaching out to place a steadying hand on his shoulder, "take a breath. We'll tell you what we know, but it isn't much at this point. We're going to have to wait."

Killian gives a curt nod and does try to draw in a deep, centering breath. He dearly wants to yell at the Prince, to rail at him for his seeming composure and for telling him to wait on word. Emma cannot wait; he needs to reach her. Instead, he forces the words down, blowing out a tense breath, reminding himself that David loves Emma as well, and is trying to help. "Fine," he grits, making his voice as controlled as possible, though still aching for something to hold onto, practically trembling with the effort of holding his body still, to appear calm. "Just please tell me what you know."

David nods, motioning for Killian to take the empty seat between himself and Henry, after moving their coats off it. "Emma's car hit a patch of ice. There didn't seem to be any others on the route they were traveling; it was just a freak chance of nature as far as anyone can tell. It was cold and starting to snow, and it just happened. They were traveling at road speed, so it's really a miracle Henry isn't in worse shape too."

"No miracle," Henry mutters, looking at his shoes forlornly, bitterness in his tone as he interrupts. "She threw her hand up, used her magic on instinct somehow to protect me, and she let herself get hurt."

Realization dawns on the Prince's face, as if he completely understands something that had been puzzling him. He doesn't comment on his thoughts though, instead moves as if to get up and embrace Henry. Killian jumps in first, getting Henry's attention and making sure the teen is looking at him. "Henry, what did I tell you on the phone? You can't blame yourself. Emma loves you more than anyone else in this world. She would never want to see you hurt if she could prevent it. There is no shame in that. She is your mother and will feel that way whether you are 13 or 33. She would not want you burdened by this, that I know."

"Hook's right," David seconds, making sure that his grandson knows no one believes Henry could or should have done anything more than he has.

Henry doesn't speak to agree or argue, but he seems less angry at any rate, and Killian's worry finally urges him to ask David to continue with his news of Emma.

Sighing, David does as he requests. "Regardless, Emma sustained a serious blow to the head, most probably from the dashboard, on impact. She almost certainly has a concussion, and she hasn't shown any signs of regaining consciousness. They have her in a private room under observation, monitoring to make sure she doesn't develop any subdural hematoma that puts undue pressure on the brain. If that happens, they will have to go in to surgically relieve it…" The Prince's face is grim as he tries to explain what he has been told, and Killian does not like the troubled expression the royal's eyes take on.

"Let us hope it does not come to that, mate," he offers awkwardly, not sure how else to provide comfort.

They sit in silence for a time, until Regina arrives. She and Henry leave to walk elsewhere in the hospital for a bit. Killian is honestly glad that Queen is here; she loves Henry dearly, and has raised him. She knows as well as anyone could what to do for him and what to say to him in this situation.

He clears his throat once they are alone and asks, "Is anything else being done for her? Can we see her? Sit with her? Anything?"

David shakes his head, trying to dissuade Killian before he goes up against the doctors and the hospital itself. "Right now, they aren't letting anyone in. She needs to be in a quiet, non-stimulating environment. When the doctor spoke to me, they didn't even want her to have visitors. After that, Dr. Whale assured me he would see what they could do. He said that her pulse was slow and a bit thready, while her blood pressure was up, and that her pupils were somewhat unequal in size. Both are concerns if she doesn't wake soon, and could indicate her unconsciousness deepening."

Thankfully, David pauses to draw breath and let that much settle in. Killian honestly does not know how much more he can stand, picturing Emma alone and helpless in such a fragile state. He wishes to be at her side, even if merely to hold her hand. She might have no awareness of him at all, but if there is any part of her which senses that she is alone, he would rather believe that she could sense if he were near as well. Killian knows that Emma's father is about to finish giving him what information he has, and is steeling himself for it, when they are interrupted by Regina and Henry's return and the arrival a few moments later of a harried-looking Dr. Whale.

"Any news on Miss Swan?" Regina asks brusquely of the doctor, cutting across both Emma's love and her father. Her voice sounds sharp and matter of fact, but Killian senses more care under the surface than he imagines Regina intends to show. She may be here for Henry's benefit most, but over time the Captain has seen her come to hold a grudging respect for his tough, no-nonsense Swan. They are qualities the former mayor has as well, and appreciates in others.

Whale looks startled by this new person firing questions at him, but as the prince does not seem to object, he answers anyway. "Not much has changed since I spoke with you last. Ms. Swan has withstood a significant blow to the head and is dealing with a concussion as a result. Her unconsciousness is a serious issue and must be monitored, but is not uncommon with this sort of injury. As long as her pulse returns to normal and her other vital signs remain stable, we are cautiously optimistic that she will wake once her body has had time to recover. If she remains unconscious through the night, we will make sure she is equipped to receive adequate nutrition intravenously in the morning. She will also need to be watched for respiratory difficulty or inability to swallow. However, we will deal with those issues if they arise. In the meantime, I am prepared to allow one visitor at a time, as long as each visitor remains quiet and calm."

Emma's four gathered visitors assure him that they understand all he has said and will abide by his orders; then they are led to the room where Emma rests. Killian is more than willing to allow Swan's father and her boy to each take their turns before him; he is so relieved to see her at all. Besides, once he reaches her side again, he has no intention of leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly two hours have passed when Killian Jones is finally allowed to slip into the silent room Emma occupies and be near her at last. It is nearing 9 o'clock in the evening, and he knows he could not have stood being kept from her much longer. David has gone home to update and reassure Snow, who had stayed with the baby, and all three of them will be back bright and early in the morning. Henry has left as well, with Regina only minutes ago, surprising Killian by wrapping his skinny arms around the pirate's waist in a tight, wordless grasp and furtively wiping a silent tear from his face as he pulled away. "Take care of her, Captain," he had murmured lowly, making Killian aware that the lad knew his intention not to leave her.

"Aye, lad," he had responded in a voice equally low. "Have no doubt of that."

Moving across the room dimly washed in the moon's glow through the blinds, he tentatively reaches Emma and looks down on her before sinking into the chair nearby. For a moment, words are lost to him as he wonders how to reach her. He studies her beautiful, pale features, unable to stop gazing on her as his hand comes up to lightly trace over her cheek.

Speech seems pointless in the stillness of the room and her unflinching slumber. He only wants Emma to know that she is not alone, that she is loved, that he would do anything to bring her back. Bending to place a kiss upon her brow, Killian only whispers, "Darling, if you can hear me…please come back to us, Love. I need you. Your boy needs you. I promise…I will be right here when you wake." He threads his fingers with hers, leaning over the bed rail to keep his face even with hers, to watch in hopes of seeing her eyes flutter open again.

And so he begins the vigil he will keep, no matter how long, until she returns to him.

iv. drifting

Unbeknownst to Emma Swan, New Year's Eve dawns clear and bright, a brittle chill in the air, but a piercing sunlit sky overhead as well. Her son, her family, and her devoted pirate captain have all been waiting, watching, hoping she will wake, wishing each time a new sun rises that her eyes will open to see it and return to them. With a little one at home, David and Snow take turns visiting the hospital in the morning and afternoon while the other stays home with the young prince. As they do everything, the two royals work it out seamlessly between them, an unbreakable team. They set a routine of arriving at 7:00 a.m. – coffee and doughnut in hand for Killian – and never fail to carry on hoping, letting not a single moment of weakness show or a second of doubt that any day now their daughter will be awake to return their morning greeting.

Killian has not left Emma's side since he was allowed in her room that first night. One determined night shift nurse had attempted to shoo him out at midnight, but the words had died on her lips as she entered to find him seated at the sheriff's bedside – silent as stone, fingers of his one good hand tangled with hers, hook resting on the covers where the metal gleamed sharply in the dim light. He had raised a dark brow in questioning challenge, but had not moved or made a sound. No direct threat had been uttered, but it was clear he was not going anywhere without a fight, and from then on they had allowed him to remain.

Regina brings Henry faithfully as well, timing it so that Emma and Killian are not alone long after whichever of her parents has made the afternoon visit is gone. In truth, Killian is grateful for the company. He can only sit so long talking to Emma with no response – no twinkle of her laughing eyes, no sassy comebacks for his best witty flirtations – without wanting to beg her to return, to collapse to his knees, to give into the tide of despair he feels hovering in the back of his consciousness as each day and then night goes by with no change in her.

An IV has been put in, to get fluids and nutrients to her, and though he knows it was necessary, Killian feels a sense of nausea climb up his throat at the thought of her being so helpless, how much she would hate not even being able to feed herself or take a drink of water. His Swan is stubborn to a fault, not willing to give up an inch, wanting to handle all that life throws at her with her own strength and her own two hands. If she were aware of what was going on around her, it would be driving her mad. What really sends him over the edge though is the confirmation that she truly is not present with him; she doesn't know what is happening around her and she can't do it for herself. He continually has to push down the fear that she will not ever again.

After the first two days, it is determined that there is no further swelling or dangerous intracranial pressure. Continued observation reveals Emma's pulse and blood pressure regulating back to normal and her pupils' return to near equal size. Each note is received gratefully by her loved ones, but Emma remains in her distant, suspended state. Dr. Whale tries to caution them all that the brain has its own way and time frame for healing. They need to stay positive, keep visiting and talking to her. He assures them that he has no indication she will not come out of her coma once her body is fully healed and ready, but he also cannot explain to them why it has not already occurred.

A feeding tube is mentioned on the night Emma has been in the hospital a week, and Killian is more relieved than words can say when her father protests rather strongly, asking them to give her a day or two more to wake up before taking that step. The process would not have driven Killian away; he would have been there at her side, squeezing her hand in his, trying to offer her comfort whether Emma was aware of it or not, but seeing plastic tubing forced down his love's throat while she is unaware and can't fight back or speak for herself on the matter – even if it is meant to help her – seems somehow cruel and barbaric to him. Killian honestly is not sure he has the resolve to stand by and allow it without falling apart, much less to be present and watch.

Gradually, with his extended constant presence, the former pirate has grown on Emma's two regular nurses. Though both the day and night nurses had been disapproving at first of this dark, forbidding man disregarding all their rules and haunting their halls, his obvious devotion, his desire to do anything he could to help, and his charming nature had won them over. The day nurse now greets him as she arrives each morning, giving him a maternal smile and encouraging his hope by asking if there has been any change in Emma over the night. The night nurse has more than once covered him with a blanket upon her arrival, finding him asleep in the chair right next to Emma's bed. She cannot help but admire a man who loves that deeply and holds on so tightly; she finds herself anxiously awaiting their little town's sheriff waking to see who she has in her corner.

As Emma's unconsciousness stretches beyond a week, and then two, the hospital staff watches more carefully than ever for respiratory distress. Due to her inability to swallow, they begin suctioning her mouth and trachea when necessary, wanting to prevent any chance of aspiration. After failing to get Killian to leave while the procedure is accomplished, they show him how Emma must first be turned to lie on her side, and he then gently holds her in place while they carry out their task. Emma's pirate remains undeterred by anything she needs from him, only wanting to aid in her comfort, to do anything that might help, might keep her safe until she returns to them. His hands are steadying on her shoulders; he can tell that even unawares the suctioning must cause discomfort from the crinkle that forms between her brows, which he lovingly smoothes with a tender touch. He aches to take the distress from her, and so he watches over her religiously, brushing her hair back from her clammy forehead, watching for even the tiniest hint of movement.

Once all visitors and staff have cleared out for the night and they are alone again, that is when Killian Jones can do nothing more than pull the blankets back over her, take her hand once more, kiss her palm, and whisper to her. "Come, Love, surely you've had more than enough of this. Open your eyes, Darling…please. I am not giving up on you. I know you can find your way back. You are too stubborn by half to let this beat you. This…cannot…be your end."

It is only then, as darkness falls in the middle of the night, the halls are quiet, and Killian is sure no one will see, that he lets his strength crumble. His weeping is silent and fleeting, but his shoulders shake, unable to throw off the fear that his princess has finally gone where he cannot follow.

~~~~~~000~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~~000~~~~~~~~~~0000~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma feels as though she is swimming through a hazy dream world, floating unaware and unconcerned by any of the worries, any of the cares that normally tie her down. She feels no pressure, no impending doom from some new villain, no worry over whether she is doing right by her son, spending enough time with her new baby brother and her parents, serving her newfound home as both sheriff and princess the way all expect of her. No sounds disturb the easy quiet surrounding her, wrapping her up like a warm, soft blanket. It almost feels as though she could close her eyes and sleep for hours, days even, and it wouldn't matter at all. There would be nothing to stop her.

As quickly as that thought comes though, her calm is somehow shaken by a tremor of fear. Sleep for days? No one there to notice or worry about her? No sounds, nothing to see, nothing to do? Something isn't right, and on the heels of that realization comes the awareness that she cannot seem to open her eyes to see where she is or what is happening. She cannot make her arms and legs move or respond to her gradually growing distress. Emma wants to open her mouth to cry out, but her lips don't part and no sound escapes. The cozy grey haze that had seemed so comforting mere moments ago has become a thickening fog strangling her and pulling her down into its depths.

A soothing croon breaks through the darkness surrounding her. Emma cannot immediately place the speaker, but she knows instinctively that this is a voice she loves, a voice she feels comforted by amidst the nothingness surrounding her. "Open your eyes, Darling…please…" the lilting voice pleads, and desperately, painstakingly, with every bit of determination and energy she came muster, Emma moves toward that sound – or at least she attempts to. She surfaces from the sea of swirling fog and finally opens her eyes.

v. welcome back, love

Joyous pandemonium is not an exaggeration for the scene in Emma's room just an hour after her waking. Despite Dr. Whale and the nurses' repeated cautions that they are still in a hospital, that the other patients should not be disturbed, and that Emma should not be overexcited after being unconscious for so long, Emma's family can't help their enthusiasm and relief. Henry is unable to cease motion; one moment he practically bounces on the balls of his feet at the foot of her bed, and the next he shuttles forward to hug her again, as tightly as he dares, and then backs away as if afraid he will break her.

For her own part, Emma never wants her son to let go, but she is still dazed and can barely speak around the lump in her throat, so she wordlessly lets him do as he will. She catches Regina's eye over his head more than once, and though the queen only gives her a silent nod of understanding, Emma senses that even her former adversary is relieved at her return. David keeps bringing her water, trying to smuggle snacks to her, and pestering her for anything else she might need which he can fetch. Snow simply stands at her shoulder, looking at her with a teary smile, and bouncing Emma's baby brother gently in her arms. It is more than a bit chaotic after the absolute peace and quiet Emma has been stuck in for so long…and she loves it.

It had been a different matter when she first opened her eyes an hour ago. Relief had flooded through her upon finding Killian there, fingers of his good hand wound up with hers, speaking to her through the quiet dark. Emma had been so glad she was not irrevocably lost in the grey vacuum of her subconscious that it had taken her a few stunned, blinking moments before registering her sailor's motionless shock, and how he could not cease staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes over tear-streaked, unshaven cheeks - drinking her in as though she might vanish from his sight once more and trying several times to speak before finally stuttering out her name. "Em – Emma? You can hear me?"

She wanted to tease him, to break the tense emotional stakes and make him laugh the hearty, uninhibited guffaw she had only recently learned he possessed. Instinctively though – knowing what he must have gone through if he was sitting there looking as bedraggled as he did while she found herself in a hospital bed – Emma bit back any smart retort on the tip of her tongue and squeezed Killian's hand gently, merely nodding her head in response to his question. She realized just how dry and unused her throat felt anyway; speech seemed a bit more of a challenge than she had expected.

Killian had not seemed at all disappointed by her stillness. The smile that crept over his face at her barest of responses was near blinding and adorably accented by the laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Leaning over her, he delicately cradled Emma's face in hand and hook, then kissed her forehead. It might have appeared awkward to an outside observer, but Emma found the gesture immensely comforting. Still gaining her bearings, she swallowed hard, looking up to him for answers.

Her captain seemed to understand, as he always did, what she was thinking. "You've been out for more than two weeks, Swan. And…I will admit…you had me worried." He paused, seeming to need a moment to rein in his own reaction, brushing his fingers through her hair as he did. When he continued, his voice was suspiciously husky. "I must go find your doctor. He will no doubt want to check you over now that you're awake. I shall call your boy and your parents too; they have missed you tremendously."

She nodded her agreement, sensing that Killian hesitated to leave her alone, and gave him an encouraging smile. Secretly, she was thinking how good it felt to wake up to someone looking on her with such love. It was something she had been missing her entire life, and with him, it had been there the whole time – she had only needed to finally see. Twice in the last month, she had nearly lost this; first to Gold's attempt to crush Killian's heart, and now to her accident. Suddenly, Emma was clear on just how much she would be missing without this man in her life, how much she wanted to rest in his adoring gaze every night and wake up to it each morning.

His small upturn of the mouth showed once again that Killian possessed the ability to read at least some small portion of what was on her mind. "I will be but a moment," he assured her as he stood, then leaned back in with a whisper in her ear and teasing glint of white teeth in a happy grin. "Welcome back, Love."

Now, in the midst of the rest of her loved ones, and the night nurse who Emma can immediately see has fallen right under the spell of her pirate's irresistible charm, hugs are flying non-stop, and everyone seems to chatter and laugh at once, both in trying to fill her in on all that she has missed, and back and forth with each other. Emma feels wrapped in a warm, noisy nest of chatter and touch and genuine belonging, and instead of feeling smothered or pressured to respond in the right way, she simply feels happy and grateful to be back.

Killian is still hovering at her elbow. He smiles and nods along with what is said, responds when he is spoken to, but she can tell he is still shaken, still anxiously watching her, making sure she is alright. It is as though he had sat beside her standing guard for so long, fearing she was about to be snatched away from him, that he cannot yet relax and believe the ordeal is over.

As their miniature party breaks up and the rest of the group files out with embraces and promises to return in the morning when she is at last released to go home, Emma finds herself wondering how to comfort him. It was not so long ago that she had been standing frozen in the clock tower, powerless to do anything but watch as the Dark One prepared to kill her pirate. The anguish on his face when their eyes had met in that terrible moment; the corresponding pressure gripping her own chest as his heart was squeezed, and the irrevocable knowledge that Killian was slipping away from her against her will, were still incredibly fresh. The memory haunted her in ways she did not know how to express or assuage. Emma was all too well acquainted with how Killian might be feeling now, but what she didn't know was if she could provide any comfort when she had been the reason for his pain.

"Hey," she whispers, holding out a hand to him, urging her pirate closer to where the bed was raised for her to mostly sit up and interact with her guests more easily, "come here, Captain." Her voice is still a bit hoarse and strained from disuse, but Killian hears it immediately and is at her side almost before she has finished speaking. He had still been at the door from seeing everyone off, but upon her request, he is with her in an instant.

"What is it, Love? Are you in pain? Do you need something?" His hand hovers over her anxiously, smoothing back her hair and brushing over her shoulder, not sure where to settle.

If she doesn't stop him, Emma is pretty sure he will dart away again, off to fetch her something she doesn't even want, when all she needs is him – to draw him close and let him hold her. She isn't sure which one of them needs the contact more, but it has become a desperate necessity. "No! Killian, wait…" she swallows and licks her lips, trying to make her voice sound less scratchy and to gather her nerve. It may be the lingering weakness in her system, leaving her feeling raw and vulnerable, but she finds herself needing to take the leap, to let Killian know he is as important to her as she is to him. "I'm fine. It's just…I just…I need you."

His gaze, as deep and blue as the ocean he loves, depthless and encompassing, warms her as he takes her in, almost as though he cannot believe her confession. "Of course…Emma. Anything you want, I will do. I promise, Darling."

Emma's throat nearly closes up at the glassiness of his eyes and the way his voice goes raspy with feeling. She knows by now that Killian Jones does not make a vow lightly, and her yearning surges even higher at his words. Biting her lip, she reaches to take his hand once more, tugs gently, and pats the space beside her on the mattress, before whispering, "Then come here…please…I need you to hold me. I…I th-thought you were gone…"

The hesitant look on her pirate's face is so worried and careful that it makes Emma want to giggle. If anyone who had known him as the fearsome Captain Hook could see him now, it would be hard to believe he was the same man. Yet, Emma can see the truth; his strength and daring have never faded, nor his dashing looks and unwavering air of command, but the drive and determination which had twisted into hatred and pursuit of revenge were once again fixed on heroism – and his commitment to her. "I don't want to unknowingly do you harm," he says anxiously, while refusing to meet her eyes.

"You won't," she breathes, pleading in her gaze when he finally meets it again, "unless you don't get in here." She gives him a playful wink as further reassurance and scoots over until she lies on her side, facing him with her back against the bedrail. She moves the IV so he won't pull it from her arm accidentally and then watches him and waits.

Heaving a sigh, Killian acquiesces, and though he wants to be sure not to hurt her, she knows he is craving the closeness as well. After shrugging out of his jacket and dropping it on the nearby chair and removing his shoes, he finally clambers gingerly up onto the bed next to her. Stretching full length on his side facing her, Killian leans in, nuzzling his nose gently over hers and kissing her lightly, still chaste and soft, but full of intense care. "Alright now, Swan?" he asks.

"Nearly," she responds a bit breathlessly. She reaches out to curl her fingers around the metal curve of his hook, taking this moment to make clear something he should already know. She is not repulsed by or fearful of his appendage – it is merely an extension of him. Pulling the blunted limb toward her body, Emma rests the arm on her hip, letting the hook wrap around her back. Then, she snuggles closer, fisting her hand in his shirt and burying her face in his warm chest.

They lie together like that for some time, comforted by the quiet closeness, heartbeats fitting to one another's rhythm. Finally, she pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. Her words are fierce with passion when she speaks again. "I love you, Killian Jones. Don't you ever doubt that again."

He pulls her back, fervently ghosting his response with his lips at her temple. "You must know I feel the same, Emma. My love for you will never change – as long as either of us live."

The kiss that follows soothes both their fraught, churning hearts and finally brings the peace that both of them seek. Emma's hand finds the short hair at the nape of Killian's neck and begins to stroke through the dark strands. Killian's fear and sleepless vigil catch up to him in her embrace, and he soon drifts off to sleep. It isn't long before his warm, solid presence curled around her protectively does the same thing for Emma and she follows him into slumber.

Anyone else in Storybrooke General that night who peeks into Emma Swan's room cannot help but be touched by the sight of the lost princess- savior and her pirate prince finally at home…with each other. Right there for all to see is a vision of two healing souls finally granted a miracle.

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