#but i wanted to buy a silly little romance novel and Nothing spoke to me bc it was just. one trope after the other instead of an actual

[abba-enthusiast]

SHUT UP. SHUT UP! SHUT UPPPPP

[freedri]

Anamorphosis, Chapter 1

Summary: When Gaara finds himself in an alternative dimension, the differences are immediately apparent - his parents are alive, his father is still Kazekage, his sister is much more interested in a certain weapons mistress than Shikamaru and Rock Lee is in love with him. However, what remains the same is harder to discern. 

Gaara awoke to the sound of chirping birds.

Even now, after all of his visits to Konoha, the sound was peculiar. The desert was full of vast stretches of nothing but sand, so the trees, cacti and other vegetation birds liked to roost in were a rare sight. At least, when compared to the forests that surrounded Konoha, never mind that there were plenty of trees inside the village itself. Life was so much more abundant here, it seemed.

He could tell he’d slept longer than usual if even the birds had woken up before him. It was rare for Gaara to get more than a few hours of sleep, but it was more than he’d ever got as a Jinchūriki. Rarer still was a good night's rest in a village other than his own.

He forced his tired eyes open. From a single window, the orange light of early morning illuminated a room Gaara found unfamiliar.

This wasn’t the room he fell asleep in.

Not to mention the disconcertingly warm weight besides him.

Gaara froze for a few seconds, eyes now wide open. Feeling no movement besides him, he quickly sat up and turned to see what the disturbance was.

Rock Lee.

Gaara watched his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. His head was buried into his pillow and his body was haphazardly strewn around the bed, yet he seemed undisturbed by Gaara’s sudden movements.

The Kazekage untensed, letting the sand that had automatically accumulated in the air around him out of defense fall to the floor. There was a sense of relief in having woken up besides a friend instead of an enemy or stranger. Gaara ruled out a kidnapping attempt, but there were still so many other possibilities swirling in his head. Of course, Lee was someone he trusted and as such there was likely a reasonable explanation for this situation.

Reasonable was probably not the right word to use when it came to situations involving Lee though.

Gaara tried hard to remember anything he could from last night besides falling asleep in the hotel he and his siblings were staying in, but had no luck. He was currently in Konoha for diplomatic reasons and had finished a round of meetings the day before, with more scheduled for this afternoon. He had no time for something like this.

Waking up next to a friend after a night he couldn’t remember didn’t seem like something Gaara would do without external influence and his friends were apt for mischief. Especially Naruto, despite his age. In fact, age had probably made that worse, what with adulthood opening up certain avenues of influence and all. Lee, on the other hand, just had the unfortunate habit of being unable to say no to spending time with friends and was always eager to come along for the ride. Gaara doubted this had much to do with him really. He could think of a few situations that would result in a lack of memories like this and for all of them it was wise to keep an eye on the affected party. Lee had probably just been looking out for him.

Something else nagged at the back of his mind, however. The last time he’d had this good of a sleep, there had been consequences.

Logically he knew he no longer needed to worry about Shukaku and, on his own, he’d never been a sleepwalker. But still, it was hard to forget fifteen years of anxiety over falling to sleep. It didn’t stop him from worrying if something had happened to both the hotel or his siblings. Gaara knew it was unlikely. Even more so that he’d manage to sleep through it, being the light sleeper he was.

He stopped trying to speculate. If anyone had the answer, it would be Lee.

So, with a bit of hesitation, the Kazekage gave the sleeping man a nudge.

Lee must not have been a light sleeper like Gaara because he proved harder to wake than the red head expected. The nudge turned into a shake, but Lee remained unstirred. Gaara had to contemplate what to do next; he didn’t want to hurt Lee after all and he’d never had to wake someone up before.

“Lee…” He rasped, shaking the leaf ninja’s shoulder once more. No response.

“Lee!” Gaara tried again, louder this time.

The sleeping man groaned. That had apparently worked.

Lee’s black eyes peeked out from behind heavy lids and his brow furrowed in annoyance at the sudden awakening. When those eyes finally focused on Gaara however, a sleepy grin appeared.

“Hey…” He gave a mumble, barely awake.

Gaara gave him one look and got straight to business.

“You’re going to tell me why I’m in your bed,” He demanded, as serious as always despite the strange nature of the situation. It only earned him a laugh.

“That’s such a silly question…” Lee replied, face still half sunk into his pillow. With a big yawn, he adjusted his position into something more comfortable.

Lee wasn’t making sense; at least from Gaara’s perspective. Slouching out of frustration, he realized he’d have to explain the situation.

“I don’t remember falling to sleep here,” He admitted softly, his discomfort obvious.

Big eyebrows met in the middle to form a V and Lee stared back at him in silence for a moment.

“Wha…?”

Gaara considered repeating the statement before Lee continued.

“Are you feeling okay sweetheart? This is not some kind of joke, right?” The leaf ninja seemed concerned and sat up in an instant.

With an arm extended towards the red head, Lee reached for his face. Gaara simply turned his head to avoid the contact. Lee let his hand drop back to his lap, but a worried frown stained his features.

“What are you trying to do?” Gaara asked, deadpan.

Lee took a second.

“I… I wanted to check if you had a fever,” He answered, tilting his head to meet the sand ninja’s gaze, “You are acting strange, maybe you are sick?”

Gaara furrowed his brow. “Sweetheart…?” He inquired skeptically.

It was an odd thing to call a friend, but then Gaara remembered that Lee himself was odd and that he was no stranger to his overly affectionate shows of friendship. Gaara had gotten quite the shock the first time the leaf ninja had hugged him and, to be truthful, anytime since.

Lee seemed to ignore the red head, continuing his questioning, “Uh, please tell me you have not woken up with amnesia...”

It was weird to consider, but the Kazekage supposed forgetting an entire night could be considered amnesia.

“Perhaps,” He replied as he kept staring at Lee suspiciously, before he returned to his own line of questioning, “Lee, what did you mean by sweetheart?”

“Oh my. Okay… u-uh…” The leaf ninja stammered and Gaara held his gaze, “You have forgotten? That much? R-really?”

“That’s what I said, yes,” He answered, getting a little annoyed at Lee’s continued refusal to answer things.

“Wow…” Lee mumbled. It didn’t take long before that usual enthusiasm returned, however, “Well then, I guess I will just have to win you over again!”

Gaara blinked.

“We’re already close friends Lee, I’m not sure-”

He stopped when he felt Lee’s hand touch his cheek.

Gaara noticed the faint blush dusting Lee’s face as the leaf ninja stared intensely at him. He could feel every movement as the man’s thumb kneaded little circles along his jawline.

“I think I can help you remember…” Lee began, taking the opportunity to invade Gaara’s personal space further, “Close your eyes and trust me.”

They were close enough for their noses to touch. Gaara only looked more skeptical, however.

“Are you trying to kiss me?” He asked flatly.

While Lee seemed stunned into silence, the red head’s gaze narrowed. He didn’t buy it.

“That’s not how things work,” Gaara stated, giving Lee a puzzled look.

Lee couldn’t be foolish enough to actually think kissing would return his memories, could he? There had to be another reason for the suggestion, but Gaara couldn’t think of one. Well, besides the obvious connotations of a kiss, but that wasn’t happening right now, was it? Lee didn’t feel that way about him, right?

Maybe it had something to do with last night.

“We can try…” Lee whispered, leaning in ever closer.

Gaara leant away.

Lee really was trying to kiss him. Gaara was speechless, he could only gulp.

“...Or maybe that is not such a good idea,” Lee winced and it seemed like he’d realized that yes, trying to kiss the confused Kazekage in your bed wasn’t a smart thing to do. He’d moved away again now, as had the red head, whose arms now sat crossed over his chest.

“I thought the things in Temari’s romance novels weren’t meant to be realistic…” Gaara mumbled. He’d borrowed them solely for research purposes, of course, but his sister had been sure to warn him about not taking them too seriously. Despite that, this was beginning to look like something straight out of one.

Of course, Lee had heard him. He laughed. “What kind of romance books does your sister read?”

Gaara didn’t want to acknowledge him.

“I would have thought they do not make the sort of stuff she is interested in,” The leaf ninja seemed to find the idea amusing, but probably more so as a distraction from what had just happened, “Ah, but you would not be reading something like that. Perhaps I of all people should not be making assumptions about Temari-san…”

“Lee, be quiet…” Gaara sighed. He didn’t care to hear the leaf ninja try to joke around right now.

Lee looked at him, but kept is mouth shut.

They sat in silence before Gaara eventually spoke up.

“You like me…” He mumbled, after a few moments of careful thought.

An attempted kiss was like a brick in the face. It was something even Gaara, as inexperienced as he was, could recognize as clearly unplatonic. That didn’t mean it made any sense, however.

Lee laughed again, this time more nervously. “Yep!”

“You shouldn’t,” Gaara stated matter-of-factly, turning towards Lee with his arms still crossed. It was then that he decided to get up.

He frowned, realizing how cruel it sounded, but that didn’t mean he was wrong. There were a myriad of reasons why Lee shouldn’t be his friend, let alone feel this way about him. Of course, it was easy to say that without knowing any of Lee’s reasons; all Gaara had was a list of negatives.

Gaara might not have understood the finer details of romantic love, but since Naruto had married and his sister had started dating Shikamaru, he’d tried to learn a little about it for their sakes. He knew that what came from love was weighty and meaningful and not something one should decide on after a single night. Gaara couldn’t begin to understand why Lee wanted that from him.

He spotted a familiar bag propped up against the bed and quickly grabbed it. “I’m leaving,” He said, adjusting it on his shoulders awkwardly.

“If you have amnesia, then it is dangerous for you to wander off on your own,” Lee suggested, and though he sounded concerned Gaara paid him no mind.

He could remember where the hotel was; he didn't need Lee’s help. Besides, he’d prefer to be alone right now.

Gaara didn’t look back as he walked out the door.

Thank you for reading! This is some trashy silly fun because I wanted to write something that wasn’t serious.

[businesscasualprincess]

Once Upon the N Train

CS Modern AU, Based partially on actual events...

Words: 3,066 | Rating: Soft T (Adult themes, suggestive dialog) | Ao3: x

Dedicated to all the lovelies in the Writer’s Hub, without whose encouragement and humor, I probably would have abandoned this days ago. ♥♥

After a mad dash across the platform, Emma scooted her way onto the subway car just as the doors closed. It was nearly empty, the only other person was a man near the back leaning against the window with his eyes closed. He had the collar of his tan trench coat popped up, covering most of his face, but Emma could see the bottoms of his grey suit pants and his shiny black oxford shoes. He’d clearly been working late at one of the downtown offices, catching a nap on his ride home in the quiet lull between the evening rush hour and the last-call crowd. 

Emma took her seat as the train lurched forward, setting her shopping bag on the spot next to her and pulling out her tablet to choose something to read. As a responsible and successful adult who was choosing to continue her professional education, she should probably have opened up the reading for her Advanced Topics in Criminology class, but it was Friday night and she wasn’t that responsible. Instead she tapped the cover of a cheesy romance novel about a time-traveling Viking with too many kids, and shifted in her seat to get comfortable for the ride home. 

“So, is it a gift or for yourself?” the sudden sound of the man’s voice startled Emma.

 “Excuse me?”

 “In your AdultMart bag.” he continued, English accent adding an unexpected amount of class to his words, “It’s definitely too heavy to be a DVD which would obviously be a gift because no one actually buys their porn in a store anymore. It’s also not heavy enough to be one of the nice vibrators or a glass dildo, which would obviously be for yourself because they’re too personal and expensive to be a gift. So that leaves us with either a small vibrator or some sort of silly lingerie, both of which could be a gift or not a gift.”

 “Who the hell are you?” Emma turned around, facing the man who was now clearly awake. He’d arranged the collar of his coat to lie flat again, revealing an handsome jawline peppered with stubble that was clearly intentional and dark hair that was just long enough to start to curl at the base of his neck. In addition to the trench, he also wore a waistcoat that matched his pants, though it was without the jacket that would have made it a true suit. His navy blue button down shirt had the top 3 buttons undone and the untied ends of a silver necktie dangled out under the collar. Emma was momentarily taken aback by how undressed he looked for someone still wearing so many layers. “And how the hell could you tell what store this came from?”

 “You can call me Killian,” he moved from his seat to the one behind hers, extending a hand for a shake, ���and I’d recognize that bag design anywhere, I see it daily.”

 “Buddy, you just admitted to visiting a sex store on a daily basis, you’ll forgive me if I don’t touch your hand…” Emma’s better judgement told her that she should be fairly disgusted at this point. Sure, almost everyone indulges in a little of this sort of fun now and then, hell, she’d been about to crack into a pretty explicit romance novel herself just a few minutes ago, but it was not normal to go starting conversations with perfect strangers about it on empty train cars. “Still though, there’s really nothing special about this bag, I don’t see how you can tell it apart from any other gray bag.”

 So much for better judgement. Something about him compelled her to turn in her seat and face him fully, a clear invitation to continue the conversation. Well, at least her friend Ruby would be pleased to see she was ‘pursuing social interaction’.

 “Nothing special? Do you not see how this bag could be useful? It’s nice and thick, with those slick sides that help with insertion, and the size of it is just perfect, not too big and not too small…” Killian had reached over the seat to stroke the plastic as he spoke, his smooth voice lowering as his face drifted closer to hers, “...plus the color matches perfectly.”

 “Wait… what?” Emma snapped out of the ridiculous mesmerization he’d somehow managed to lure her into… where the hell did he get off having eyes that blue anyway?? He chuckled as her confusion played perfectly into his flirtatious teasing.

 “Well the interior of my car is quite similar in shade to this particular hue and they make excellent trash bags because they’re tough and nothing sticks to them. My sister-in-law, Tink, works at the store and she nicks me a bag or two sometimes.” he smiled again, “Actually, I imagine she was the one who sold you whatever is in there. Though, truth be told, I can’t say that I’ve ever made the time to go into the shop, myself.”

 On second thought this was probably exactly the kind of ‘social interaction’ Ruby would want her to have. Killian was funny and well-spoken, probably not an axe-murderer if he was on good terms with that blonde pixie of a woman who’d rung her out at the shop...and it didn’t hurt that he was ridiculously HOT. She could do worse on a Friday night, right?

 She glanced to his left hand, checking for a ring before she took this any further, only to discover that he didn’t actually have a left hand. His prosthetic was clearly top of the line with motorized fingers that moved as he shifted his arm, but she imagined that it would make more sense for him to wear any wedding bands on the other hand. It was impossible to be sure though, and she couldn’t think of a way to broach the subject without getting way to personal.

 When Emma met his eyes again (seriously, though, they HAD to be contacts), she realized he’d caught her staring at his hand. His flirtatious demeanor became reserved and embarrassed almost immediately.

 “Ah… I suppose I’ll just leave you to your reading, then.” Killian scratched behind his ear as he glanced back to where he had been sitting before, “I apologize if I’ve bothered you, I only meant my teasing in good fun. I… I hope you have a nice evening.”

 As he stood to move back to his original seat, Emma found herself reaching out to catch his arm. More than just wanting to make sure he knew that he was misinterpreting the reason she’d been scrutinizing his hand, she truly didn’t want their conversation to end.

 It had been months since her breakup with Mulan, and though it had been easy as breakups go, Emma hadn’t been in any hurry to get back out into the dating world, even for a one-nighter (much to Ruby’s abject horror).

 “It’s a gift.” Emma answered his original question as she gently directed him back into the seat, “For my brother’s fiancée to give to her at her bachelorette party next week. Well, technically she was my best friend first, before she was his fiancée, which is why it’s not weird that I got her this.”

 Emma pulled the lingerie box out of the bag, turning it so Killian could see the photo of what was inside. It was a Snow White themed bra and panties set, complete with puffy sleeves and a short blue cape.

 “So I’m guessing your brother is a real Prince Charming type, then? Probably always trying to do the noble thing?” Killian seemed to regain some of his previous swagger, encouraged by her smile, “I think I know someone like that.”

 “Let me guess,” Emma teased with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, “It’s you?”

 “Actually, it’s my brother, Liam, but by all means, tell me more about how you see me as a knight in shining armor.” Killian waggled his eyebrows suggestively. He leaned forward in the seat, smoothly invading her personal space. Instead of pulling away, she leaned in closer as well, causing the smile on his face to grow 3 sizes, as his voice dropped to a whisper. “Though I’ll let you in on a little secret: I prefer to think of myself as a dashing rapscallion.”

 “Rapscallion, eh? And just what mischief makes you worthy of such a title?” Emma was definitely playing with fire. She tried her best to shove the lump of anxiety down out of her throat. She’d been burned before by silver-tongued, self-styled bad boys and normally tried to avoid them, but something about Killian just felt so genuine and trustworthy.

 So much for better judgement. Still it was just flirting on a subway ride and she hadn’t even given him her name. There was only 1 more stop before she would be getting off anyway, so what was the harm?

 “Well, you see, love” Killian smiled conspiratorially, “I might be plotting to steal a kiss from a princess.”

 “And just how did a ‘Dashing Rapscallion’ come to be acquainted with a princess? Is she anyone I’d know?” Emma felt a blush rising in her cheeks, fairly certain she knew where this was headed, and surprised to find herself eager for his answer.

 “Don’t you know, love?” Killian took her hand in his, gripping her fingers to turn them so the back of her hand was facing up. He ran his thumb gently along her knuckles before placing a feather-light touch of his lips between her index and middle fingers, allowing himself to linger just a moment, his breath ghosting along her surprisingly sensitized skin, before meeting her eyes again, “It’s you.”

 Emma Swan had never understood the term “Fuckstruck” before, and really, she still didn’t understand it, but that was no longer due to lack of experience, and everything to do with the fact that her brain refused to think at all. Who was this man?

 “30th AVENUE STATION”

 “Shit.” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper, her hand still in Killian’s, as she blinked to try to clear her head “I… umm… this is my stop. I… I have to go.”

 Emma stood up and moved towards the nearest door, hitting the stop request signal as she went. Her mind was still floating in a sea of seduction, unable to process the incredible effect such a short subway ride had had on her.

 “Wait!!” Killian rushed over to her as the door was opening, extending his hand with a small card in it. “This is my cellphone number. I would be honored if you chose to contact me again.”

 The door closed between them and Emma watched as it continued down the track until she could no longer make out Killian’s face in the window.

 Emma walked down the steps from the raised train platform to the street, still in deep thought, and completely lost in the events of the last 20 minutes, until her stomach gurgled, reminding her that she needed to pick something up if she wanted to eat dinner.

 She’d only been living in the neighborhood for a few weeks, and she wasn't totally familiar with her local take out options yet, so she ducked into the bodega on the corner to pick up supplies for grilled cheese.

 There were too many cheese choices for the current state of her mind.

She called her roommate. Elsa would know what to do.

 “Emma? Is something wrong? Did you accidentally take the wrong train?”

 “I'm fine, I'm at that little store on the corner getting stuff for grilled cheese. Do I want American or gouda?”

 “Okay, now I know something is wrong. I've known you since you were 16 when Aunt Ingrid adopted you and David. You've never, in that entire time, willingly eaten anything but that gross American cheese in the plastic wrapper on your sandwich. Do you remember that time the NYU cafeteria used cheddar instead? You submitted a 300-word Op-Ed to the school newspaper.”

 “I just have someon-- things on my mind today. It's really not the crisis you seem to think it is. I'm just asking if maybe you might feel like changing things up a little bit.”

 “Mmhmm. You know you don’t need my permission to ‘change things up’, Emma. If you feel like you're ready to take a chance on a new… what euphemism are we using again? Cheese? Then I think you probably owe it to yourself to give gouda a chance.”

 “Thanks, Elsa. I'll be home soon.”

 “Anytime, sweetie.”

 Emma bought the gouda and created a new contact in her phone for Killian's number. She would text him later that night after she’d eaten.

 Walking the final block to her building found Emma with a smile stretched wide across her face, it was almost embarrassing. It was a very new feeling, she was not the sort of person who opened up easily. Years of being bounced around and practically forgotten in the foster system had left deep scars. Even though the unconditional love and sense of belonging she’d eventually found in Ingrid’s home had smoothed out a few of the rough edges, Emma still found it difficult to bond with other people. In fact, that had been a large part of why her relationship with Mulan had ended. They were both too reserved and each needed a more passionate and affectionate partner to draw them out of their comfort zones.

 It wasn’t like Killian had been the first such person she’d met, though. Most recently, Graham had had a keen sense of humor and plenty of affection for her, but she’d spent nearly an entire day with him in Central Park without sparking nearly half as much chemistry as she had in 20 minutes on the N train with Killian. Their new connection was something scary and real and Emma was more than a little worried that the longer she waited to text him, the more likely she would be to get cold feet.

 She pulled out her phone and began composing a message, so intent on hitting the right balance between witty and sincere that she barely even thanked the man who held the door for her as she entered her building behind him.

 “You know, princess, this is New York City. You might want to pay more attention to your surroundings than your phone. You never know when some ne'er do well cad might sneak up on you and take advantage.” it was him. He was there. Killian. Standing in the entry hall of her building. Lecturing her about making a tourist-level mistake.

 “What are you doing here?” she cringed internally at her own question. The man was actively opening one of the mailboxes with a key. He obviously was a resident in her building.

 “I could ask the same of you, love. Do you often go following strange men into their buildings when you’re deep in thought?” he was teasing her again.

 “Well…” Emma brought out her own key, showing it off before she opened the mailbox she shared with Elsa, trying to convey with raised eyebrows and a coy smirk that it was her building too. “You didn’t get off at 31st avenue though. I watched you as the train pulled away. What happened?”

 “Oh… that…” Killian scratched behind his ear, “Well when I saw you were also getting off at my stop, and I had just kissed your hand, and we we’re having a moment… I decided to ride to the next stop. I… I didn’t want you to feel like I was following you, I mean… I started off our conversation asking about what you’d bought in a sex shop. If I’d followed you off of the train too… you might have gotten a very wrong impression of my intent.”

 “You rode all the way up to Astoria? That’s an extra half mile of walking just because you didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable?” Emma was astounded that he would literally go out of his way to accommodate her feelings. Any other guy would have just gotten off the train with her and maybe doubled back a little until she was out of sight if they were feeling generous. This had been consideration above and beyond what most people would do for, essentially, a stranger.

 “Aye.”

 It wasn’t the kind of gesture she was used to, and with his confirmation, the feelings overwhelmed her, spurring her to action. Emma stepped into Killian’s space, taking both his real hand and his prosthetic in each of her own, lacing their fingers together as she leaned in to kiss him.

 She could tell he was unsure of her intent by the way he kept perfectly still, waiting for her lips to make first contact. Once she made it clear that she intended to kiss him for real, not just a chaste peck, his response was enthusiastic.

 Their arms entwined around each other gripping and tugging at collars and sleeves and anywhere else their fingers could gain purchase. Killian was the first to eagerly open his mouth, teasing Emma’s lips with his tongue as he tried to entice her to join him in a passionate exploration of each other’s mouths. They were playful in their competition for who would get the upper hand in leading the kiss, but still found they had to break apart for oxygen before there was a clear winner.

 The couple kept their faces close, foreheads touching, breath still mingling, as they came down from their high.

 “This is going to seem like a silly question, love, considering the, frankly, life-changing kiss we just shared,” Killian still hadn’t completely caught his breath as he chuckled through his question, “But do you think you’d mind telling me your name?”

 Emma couldn’t help her outburst of giggles. The whole situation was so ridiculous and out of order, that she felt like it wouldn’t be wrong to allow it to continue that way for a bit longer.

 “I don’t know, I am certainly warming up to being called Princess.” she said, pulling him to the stairs, “Why don’t you join me for a grilled cheese sandwich and see if you can wheedle my name out of my roommate?”

 “I can’t think of another way I’d rather spend the evening.” he grinned, following close behind.