#but like. just wanting to hear two+ friends banter and have fun. but to fulfill my own social needs

[bottomschlatt]

I think that for a lot of my life I’ve used my fixations to fulfill my social needs. Ignoring story or formatting or whatever, the absolute most common connection between all of them is “I get to see people be friends with each other” and I can’t decide if that’s sad or not

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kanetsugu Naoe (JP)

Sweet Love Training Part 1

One beautiful afternoon.

Today, I'm visiting the school to help Kanetsugu.

Boy: "Sensei, how do you read this?"

Kanetsugu: "It's gashinshoutan."

Kanetsugu: "It means enduring hardship to fulfill a goal, but the origin of this term is一"

(As usual, his teaching style is so precise and easy to understand.)

I know I shouldn't, but I'm tempted to watch him teach.

(No, Kanetsugu will "punish" me later.)

I hurriedly returned to organizing the letters.

This situation began yesterday when he had to deal with a visitor on behalf of Kenshin, who was on an expedition.

------------Flashback-----------

(He's been so busy these days that I haven't been able to see him much.)

As I was passing by the hall with such thoughts in my mind一

(Kanetsugu's voice?)

I happened to hear his voice coming through the door.

Kanetsugu: "You? But一"

(Huh? I feel like he's talking rather casually.)

(I wonder who and what he's talking about. I wish I could talk to him too.)

Missing him so much, I couldn't help but listen in.

Kanetsugu: "Mai?"

Mai: "!"

Suddenly, the door opened, and I met Kanetsugu's eyes.

Kanetsugu: "What are you doing here?"

Mai: "Um. Well, I'm just passing by."

Kanetsugu: "While leaning in the door like that?"

Mai: "The truth is, I heard your voice. I missed you, so I listened in."

Kanetsugu: "..............."

Kanetsugu: "I didn't ask you to answer that honestly."

Mai: "S-Sorry."

I sighed and hurriedly bowed my head.

(We haven't been able to talk recently, so I'm glad we could have this conversation.)

(I wonder if he'll be surprised again if I say something like that.)

Still, the happiness of seeing him made me relax.

(There is probably still a guest inside, but why did he come out of the room?)

(Did the meeting end early or something? If so, I wonder if we can be together after this.)

Kanetsugu: "Mai, you一"

As he was about to say something一

???: "Mai!"

I looked up when I heard a familiar voice and saw Keiji peeking out from behind Kanetsugu.

Mai: "Wait, so Keiji is the visitor?"

Keiji: "Yup! Someone else was supposed to be here, but there was a sudden change of plans!"

Kanetsugu: "Liar. You just wanted to surprise Mai and me, so you didn't tell us."

Keiji: "Kanetsugu, if you know what's going on, don't tell everyone.”

Kanetsugu: "It's my policy not to waste my time worrying about things like that."

The lighthearted banter between them was that of two good friends.

(I see. Because he was dealing with Keiji, his tone of voice was more relaxed than usual.)

The two, who haven't seen each other for a long time, are as friendly as ever, and the smile on their faces warm my heart.

Keiji: "What are you smiling at, Mai?"

Mai: "Hehe, Kanetsugu looks so lively when he's with you."

Mai: "When the person you love looks happy, it makes you happy, too."

Kanetsugu: "----!"

Keiji: "Heh."

Keiji: "You're right! I'm glad to see you guys are getting along."

Kanetsugu: "That's enough, Keiji."

He said this quietly and stood in front of Keiji, his beautiful wisteria eyes reflecting mine.

Kanetsugu: "Mai, I opened the door because I was about to ask the maid for tea. Sorry, but our discussion is still going on."

Mai: "I see."

I couldn't help but be disappointed, hoping that today would be the day we could spend some quality time together.

Mai: "Then, I'll go get the tea!"

Kanetsugu: "!"

(I can help him and see him again later. It's like killing two birds with one stone.)

I quickly turned on my heel and went to make a pot of tea.

Kanetsugu: *sigh*

Keiji: "You can't just ignore her, huh? Kanetsugu."

Kanetsugu: "Shut up, don't make fun of me."

That night一

Kanetsugu: "Mai, show some restraint."

Mai: "Restraint?"

I blinked when Kanetsugu, returning from a bath, said that to me.

Kanetsugu: "You were smiling while saying you were happy to see me having fun."

Mai: "Really?"

Kanetsugu: "Yeah. From the moment our eyes met, you were smiling like a goofball."

(Ugh, I didn't notice it.)

I was so happy to be able to talk to him that I think I lost control of my expression during the conversation.

Kanetsugu: "Sorry for making you feel lonely, but still, your face shows too much."

Kanetsugu: "Even when you delivered the tea, you were like a dog that took a thrown stick and came back."

(Dog!?)

Back then, I was carrying the tea, thinking, 'I want more attention,' so I couldn't say anything back to him.

Mai: "I apologize for my lack of discipline."

Kanetsugu: "I see. That's a good way to put it."

(It looks like he's convinced.)

(From now on, I'll be a little more careful with my words, actions, and facial expressions.)

As I was thinking that一

Kanetsugu: "This is a good opportunity for me to discipline you."

Mai: "What?"

The unheard-of statement was met with a disarming response.

Mai: "What do you mean?"

Kanetsugu: "It means exactly what it says. I'm going to teach you so that you won't have to show your emotions any more than you do now."

(What kind of talk is this!?)

Kanetsugu: "It would be good to train you not to show your emotions in the future."

Mai: "You just said that."

I'm not confident I can do it well, remembering that even before we became lovers, he had told me repeatedly, but to no avail.

Perhaps sensing my concern, he let out a small sigh.

Kanetsugu: "I'm not saying you shouldn't smile in public."

Kanetsugu: "But put yourself in my shoes. What do you think will I feel if I saw other men looking at my lover's smile?”

(Does that mean he's一!?)

Mai: "Are you jealous?"

Kanetsugu: "................"

He remained silent, his eyes like the surface of a winter lake shot through me.

(He's not denying it.)

(He really doesn't like it when other people see me smiling.)

My heart clenched at the passion hidden in his wisteria-colored eyes.

Kanetsugu: "Sorry for being selfish. Just forget about it."

Mai: "Nope! I'm happy about your feelings that I'm about to cry."

Kanetsugu: "Idiot."

Mai: ".................."

(It's not fair for him to smirk like that.)

Mai: "Kanetsugu-san, I've decided. Please train me not to show my feelings on my face!"

Kanetsugu: "But that's not what you really want."

Mai: "That's not true. It's a good opportunity for me to reflect on how much I show my emotions."

(Besides, it's not my intention to make my lover jealous.)

Mai: "I know you're busy, but I'd appreciate it if you could help me."

When I said this and bowed my head, Kanetsugu paused for a moment and一

Kanetsugu: "Okay."

Kanetsugu: "If you're sure about this, we'll get started right away."

Mai: "Yes, sensei!"

Kanetsugu: "Don't call me that."

Kanetsugu: "Anyway, I'm going to bed for now."

With that, Kanetsugu plopped down on the edge of the futon.

Mai: "Kanetsugu-san? Why are you sleeping there?"

Kanetsugu: "I think we should sleep at a distance from each other tonight."

Mai: "Why!?"

Kanetsugu: "I told you we would start right away. It's part of your training."

Mai: "But we're alone right now."

Kanetsugu: "You're easily distracted when you're not careful, so you should learn to be aware of this habit from time to time."

Mai: "That may be true, but..."

Perhaps reading my expression that I'm not convinced, he ponders for a moment and then speaks up.

Kanetsugu: "Then how about I give you a reward for being patient?"

Mai: "Reward?"

I lifted my head, feeling motivated.

Kanetsugu: "That face. Do you want something?"

Mai: "Yes, I want you."

Kanetsugu: "I'm asking about the reward."

Mai: "I know. But you're my reward."

Mai: "If I can hold back showing it on my face, let me touch you."

Kanetsugu: "Sly fox."

His softened eyes made my heart flutter.

Kanetsugu: "Then, if you show your thoughts on your face, I won't touch you at all."

Mai: "Not at all!?"

Kanetsugu: "Discipline comes with punishment."

(I hate the idea of not being touched. I have to really work hard at this!)

With renewed determination, I gently pulled his sleeve.

Mai: "Well, I'm going to start working hard tomorrow, so please exempt me from training for today."

Mai: "Please? Sensei?"

Kanetsugu: ".............."

Kanetsugu: *sigh*

Kanetsugu: "A little bit is okay, I guess."

Mai: "Oh."

Next Part

[lonepower]

Oh, I am so curious about Forspoken because I've only heard negative things about it. Would you mind talking about more of your thoughts about it? What's it like, and would you reccomend it?

Nonny, I am not surprised, and it is a continual source of raging frustration for me because this hate is absolutely unwarranted in every possible way!! I can't even track the tag here because, despite the small but absolutely wonderful fandom, it is so full of people hating on it that it clogs out nearly everything else.

First off: YES, I WOULD ABSOLUTELY RECOMMEND IT. PLAY THIS GAME. THAT IS A THREAT. 🔪🔪🔪🔪 

The tl;dr of my feelings about Forspoken are in line with that one excellent Jupiter Ascending review that I can't find for the life of me now, where the author is like, "is this what guys feel like all the time?" because the movie is just plucked straight from her 14-year-old self's wish fulfillment fantasies. Like, is it a deep, brooding, erudite Auteur Piece? Well, no, but... so what? It's self-indulgent to the max and so earnestly not-shy about it that it's just an absolute joy to play. It's fun. Like... it's just fun. Have we all just forgotten the sensation of joy??? 

(This got quite long, so full review under the cut:)

The game is a pretty straightforward changeling fantasy/isekai—heroine with a mysterious troubled past gets sucked into a magical world and just happens to be the exact thing needed to save it from impending doom—and it isn't shy about its own tropeyness. Like, it's not trying to be clever or subversive with its premise, and if you're used to the HBO theory that '"'"good"""(/heavy sarcasm) storytelling is completely unpredictable twists at every turn, then yeah, you're gonna find it predictable. (I called 2 of the 3 major reveals within seconds of their first being foreshadowed, but I love being right more than anything, so that was more of a bonus for me!) 

With that being said: It is absolutely excellent at doing what it sets out to do. It's not Complicated or Psychological or Edgy because that's not what it wants to be: It wants to be a fun, glittery, self-indulgent, richly detailed, joyfully tropey fantasy game, and by god it does that fantastically. It's got really deep, extensive lore and some subtler worldbuilding than I expected, it's a lot better written than people give it credit for, it's fun, it's rewarding to play. Frey is such a good protagonist, she's the epitome of "pathetic wet cat poor little meow meow blorbo from my shows" etc etc etc, and I feel like the only reason people aren't realizing this is because she's a Black woman with poor social graces who spends the majority of the game in extreme crisis mode. Water is wet 🙄

Is the dialogue cringy at times? Yeah, honestly there were a couple moments that made me go 😬, but from what I hear about other square enix games that's really nothing new. I will also die on the hill that yes, the banter is a little Whedony, BUT: 1) Whedon banter (esp. pre-2012 firefly/buffy/resurrection banter) is NOTHING like what "marvel dialogue" has become, and the Whedony bits of Forspoken are much more like Firefly than like the written-by-committee shit that marvel spits out now; 2) Joss Whedon is actually really fucking good at writing witty, funny banter, and it's just that he's so unpleasant in his ideals that we're all sick of hearing about him. I have LOTS of problems with the guy but his dialogue is Not one of them. And the banter in this game is one of the main draws for me. I fucking love banter because I am a brilliant bitch with excellent taste who will never change 💁‍♀️

Additionally—and crucially, because it indicates that 99% of the game's detractors haven't even gotten out of the first hub area—only two characters in the game talk like that, and they are explicitly seen as off-putting and not that funny (Frey) and extremely, maddeningly annoying (Cuff) by everyone else around. Frey is a homeless kid with no friends and Cuff has been trapped in a bracelet in an antique store for decades, so it's literally in-universe canon that they have no social skills. Everyone else in the game talks normally. They're both just huge dorks.

The gameplay itself is also really, really good too—this actually seems to be the One Thing that Gamers™ have decided is acceptable to not outright froth with rage over, so I'm putting it closer to the end, but yeah, it's awesome! It's one of three (3) games that I completed on Normal rather than story/casual/Idiot Weenie Baby difficulty (the others being Ghost of Tsushima and Horizon Zero Dawn), but it also has a lot of really excellent accessibility modifiers so you can customize your playstyle extensively. It's heavily focused on mobility and versatility, so you get better rewards and XP and stuff for combos, switching power sets, being fast & evasive, etc. The open world is also very well-designed: it's one of the only games where I actually really enjoy dicking around in the postgame doing sidequests and killing monsters (rather than just immediately starting the main story over), because parkouring around with your flashy cape and your awesome flaming spear is just that much fun. VISORIA MY BELOVED.

Also, you can pet every cat. They'll even follow you around and pick up items for you! GOTY for that alone tbh.

I have very few complaints about the game—the music not being quite up to par is one, and some of the lore/backstory could've been presented a little bit more clearly in my opinion, especially in the DLC, but that's not a problem that everyone had. I know there are also some valid criticisms from Black players on the way Frey is presented, but I'm not 100% sure what the specifics are, and obviously googling "what's wrong with Forspoken" or w/e is absolutely not going to be helpful. (I can guess, as an Extremely White person; for one, her having a criminal backstory is maybe not the best look, although I will say that in the very first minute of the game I saw "left on a doorstep" and "compulsive theft" and my immediate thought was "oh, she is some kind of changeling for sure." I wasn't...entirely wrong? (Spoilers!) So that seems more like two separate factors combining in an unfortunate way than any actual stereotypes the writers were playing into. (Again, I am Very White, so I defer any interpretation to those who actually know what they're saying and would like to weigh in!!! 😅))

In summary, I think a combination of misogynoir and Gamer Brain Rot have just created the perfect unfair storm against this game, because I genuinely do not understand how else it could be so poorly received. It's genuinely one of my favorite games. Please play Forspoken.

[littlemissmanga]

Yen's Alphabet (NSFW Version)

Another Yen alphabet! This time, it's the after dark version!

Part Dathomiri on her mother's side with a long line of traditional matchmakers on her father's side, Yen moved to the heart of the Republic to make her way in the business world. Unsatisfied with the illogical and callus bureaucracy, she jumped at the chance to do some real good at Right to Love Matchmaking.

Reminder my blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Yen isn’t used to giving or receiving aftercare since she hasn’t really had sex with a romantic partner. (Note: not condoning that IRL, aftercare is a must). She never focused on her own relationships after early attempts were abject failures. So for her, sex is functional – it fulfills a physical need. When the romp is done, she makes sure her partner is satisfied, then cleans herself up and leaves/asks them if they need a cab.

It’s only once she’s in a relationship does she feel the pull to engage in aftercare. If she’s caretaking, it means a lot of heavy petting and talking – she needs her partner to verbalize that they are good physically and mentally and that they are fulfilled. Then she’ll ask what her partner needs – bath, food, etc.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Yen is very proud of her hair – she works hard to keep those long locks strong. She also likes her freckles. They’re one of her softer features and she likes that.

On her partner, she loves hips. Flat, curvy, doesn’t matter.  She loves watching their muscles flex and contract under her touch or as they thrust against her. It’s reassuring to feel them and that comfort is a turn on to her. And of course, they’re just so grabbable.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Yen has made herself squirt once and it was the hottest thing ever. She really wants a partner to help her do it again where she can just let go.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She is actually a switch. When single and just having casual sex, Yen never mentions being anything other than a dom-leaning top. She doesn’t need a power dynamic to enjoy herself, but in those casual flings she is either in control or it’s an even balance. She’s definitely a very active/proactive lover and she genuinely enjoys the authority and being in control of giving pleasure.

But she’s heard from friends about their experiences as subs and how freeing and even relaxing it can be, and it got her very curious. She doesn’t trust too many people though, so she would only ever sub for a long-term serious partner that she trusts completely. Giving up control is so uncomfortable for Yen, but if she feels safe, she loves it. (In the Right to Love AU, it’s a side she explores with Dogma only after dating for a while after both realized that Dogma has a few authority kinks himself.)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

She has a fair amount. Yen has only been in two “real” relationships, but she’s had the occasional weekend night fun. She’s far from a virgin or prude.

But she is a reader of spicy fics, so most of her more adventurous understanding of bedroom play is theoretical.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

The position she admits to/is aware of off the bat is cowgirl. She loves feeling her partner beneath her, watching their face as she takes her sweet time making herself feel good.

The position that she’s asked to try by a dom she trusts is reverse cowgirl in front of a mirror. Yen is a confident woman, but old scars have her hyper aware that she isn’t the most feminine person in terms of behavior/personality (as she would hear from extended family members all the time) so being forced to see herself having sex reaffirms that femininity to her and helps her enjoy sex to the fullest.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

She is serious. While teasing and playful banter is right up her ally, Yen wants her advances and sexy overtures taken seriously and to seriously turn her partner on. She would absolutely feel a partner is laughing at her if they started cracking jokes.

But that is something that softens with a partner she trusts.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very well groomed. Yen’s silver hair is natural, but she usually doesn’t have carpets to prove it. In fact, Yen removes most of her body hair. She recognizes that it’s stupid, but it is a habit she got into back home (after hearing “How can a client trust you to find him a good match if you look like an Ewok?” one too many times) and now it’s a mental thing where she feels weird not shaving.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Yen isn’t afraid of intimacy once she trusts someone, but she really doesn’t touch on it at all with a casual fling. Like, she won’t kiss them, won’t cradle their face or anything like that. Again, casual sex is a functional act.

In a trusted partnership, it is the most vocal Yen gets about her feelings, how much she loves this person, how she wants to make them feel good, how good they make her feel, etc. It’s like a damn bursts and she finally let’s her heart speak freely.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanons)

Yen takes care of herself every day. She has a very high libido and masturbates to relieve stress and tension at the end of the day. She’s usually very practical about it – no muss, no fuss, just a holofilm or novel and her hand; she doesn’t even get undressed.

But every so often (I’m talking once every few months) she’ll really indulge and make a full night of it – soft lighting, a hot bath, aromatherapy pods, silk sheets – the whole nine.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

IDK if this is a kink per se, but getting permission to come. Not all the time, but Yen came across a holonovel once where one character told the other to just “let go” and that reassurance blew Yen away. But she’ll only really think about that in alone time. She’ll never ask for it.

It doesn’t take long in a relationship for Yen to realize she has a praise kink – a very big one. Any praise of her figure or body even more so since she’s usually insecure about her femininity. She also discovers she has a thing for overstimulation (giving and receiving).

She also likes contained exhibitionism – she doesn’t want the whole world to see, but making her partner or her partner making her look in a mirror (while narrating what’s happening) or engage in a more risqué place gets her really going.

Yen loves to tease/likes soft degradation for a sub partner (not to receive all). She’s a very teasing dom, will tie someone up and blindfold them and lightly touch them (hands, feathers, leather, etc.) for so long. She loves watching how much she can rile them up and how sensitively they feel every touch.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

HOTELS. Absolutely always.

One night stand? Hotel – ya girl is too smart to bring random people to her home OR go to theirs.

Committed relationship? Hotel rooms give an edge of spice and decadence that gets lost in the daily grind and really revs her engines. Also, they’ve got that naughty edge of “no one here knows us/we can be as loud as we want.” Want a change of scenery/an outdoor experience without the logistical nightmare of outdoor sex? Hotels.

And it’s easier to get away with leaving the curtains open.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yen has a high libido, so it doesn’t take much to turn her on. But she’s mentally in her own way 90% of the time, making sex not a common occurrence.

Being stressed and knowing she needs to get it out of her system physically is her most common motivator.

With a partner, it still wouldn’t take much lol. Gentle, lingering touches in a few key spots to wake her body up and take over the thinking from her mind is one way. Another is to keep verbally teasing her until she breaks and presses her partner against the wall.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degrade her seriously at your own risk. She will compile her extensive skills to prove to you in the most painful way just how smart, capable, and cut throat she can be. Do not try her.

She also won’t do impact play – giving or receiving. That crosses a line in her mind even though she may know logically it’s part of play, it still feels like real anger. She prefers verbal expressions of authority (taking/giving both).

Her weirdest no is no shower sex. She cannot stand it. It's awkward, doesn't feel good, ruins her skin and there's a 1000% chance she's gonna trip and crack her head on something. She just hates how illogical it is and cannot understand how people look past that to see it as sexy.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. Absolutely. It is 100% for her pleasure. She LOVES seeing her partner barely able to control themselves because of how she’s making them feel in the most intimate and sensitive ways.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I’d say she’s right in the middle. She can (and often does) go torturously slow. But usually she’ll set a rather even mid-tempo, trying to make things last as long as possible. And she’s not rough, but not sensual either. She wants her partner to really feel her hands on them, her body on theirs. She’ll grip tight, grab hair, etc but with a force only slightly harder than a normal touch.

Sensual gets unlocked with a long-term partner and the first time it does is an emotional experience for her.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nah. If it’s a quickie, she’d really rather just take care of herself. A lot less mess and a lot faster, even if she’s in a relationship.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If she trusts her partner, yes but with limits. She has to understand every aspect of the risk and why her partner wants to do it (what they get out of it) before she’ll say yes. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

At her pace? She can go for a while. About an hour.

But if her partner goes harder/they do overstimulation play, that’s cut to like 20 minutes, but will rebound pretty quickly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Yes, but it takes a little encouragement for Yen to branch out and try things more adventurous than a standard vibrator. Her friends are the ones who give her that encouragement.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

As stated, she is SO unfair and she doesn’t care. She loves it. She also hates receiving it and will absolutely tell her partner off (she does not see that as being a brat, but rather demanding what she deserves).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yen is on the quiet side. Even when she talks, she lowers her voice for the bedroom. She’ll moan and cry out a little when she cums but mostly its breathy whispers and gasps. If she’s with a hookup and their “meh,” she can be completely silent when she cums.

It’s with receiving overstimulation that you’ll get real sounds out of her. Still breathy and on the softer side, but push her far enough and she’ll actually laugh softly cause her body/brain doesn’t know what’s going on.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Despite her profession, Yen really didn’t think much past the matchmaking and she herself was rather vanilla. Her grandmother is pretty old fashioned, so sex wasn’t a topic of conversation and her mother was absent most of her life. It wasn’t until she moved to Coruscant that her understanding of sex was broadened beyond expected intimacy in a relationship to something to explore, even if just on her own.

But it wasn't until Right to Life and making friends there (who gave Yen her first spicy holonovels) that she began exploring more. Though she still gets a bit flustered when talking about sex in normal conversation.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Yen is fairly average. She’s 5’4” and a B cup, she’s got curves but isn’t really curvy. She uses fashion to help accentuate her waist and hips to give her a fuller figure but without that it’s just a very gentle slope of a silhouette.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high. She’ll usually get herself off once a day but in terms of drive to have sex with someone else? That’s notably lower.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It usually takes a while since she usually has to go home. But even with a trusted partner that she’s ok sleeping near, Yen still has a nightly routine – skincare, teeth care, prepping for the morning, etc., and she can’t sleep well without doing it.

[alotmorefanfiction]

Rodrick Heffley; Conditionally Yours.

Rodrick x (Y/N), a fake relationship prompt.

You and Rodrick have been friends for god knows how long.

You two essentially see one another as just friends, completely and utterly.

Freshman year of uni comes around for both of you

Rodrick decides on Music Theory, you decide on (your major).

He notices you're going to class with a girl who you find insufferable.

"Who's she?" Rodrick asks. You roll your eyes. "Eliana. She's on her way to being valedictorian."

He is absolutely in love with her, and you don't really see why, especially with the rumors that she only goes after guys in relationships.

He keeps talking about how beautiful she is, how she's just his type, how he can't get her out of his head, etc.

"You don't even have a girlfriend, she's not gonna notice you."

Suddenly, he hatches an idea. "Y/N! Don't you see? You and I can /pretend/ we're dating, and then I'll be irresistible!"

You reject the idea, but after seeing just how happy he gets when he talks about her, you give in.

"You owe me after this."

"Y/N, you are an angel. I promise it'll just be until she notices me!"

From then on, you two are known as a couple.

Lots of hand holding around campus, awkward romantic banter when in public, you talking loudly about your 'boyfriend' when Eliana is nearby.

She takes notice and starts asking more about him.

"So, like, what kind of music does your boyfriend play?" You feel gross hearing him be called that. "Punk, mostly. Some rock. It's all really underground--"

She cuts you off. "How long have you been together?"

"Two years." She seems even happier at this, and she talks you into getting tickets to a Löded Diper show.

Rodrick is incredibly happy, thanking you over and over, though you feel hurt now. You've shown up to every show, whether it was empty or packed.

The two of you plot it out, planning the exact songs with the band.

Lots of hand holding, snuggling together, even in private now.

Rodrick plays with your hair, stroking it softly and braiding it, something he had never really done before.

You invite him over to your dorm one night and drink together, and Rodrick tells you about how thankful he is for you, and how great of a friend you are.

He also mentions how you're always in his mind because he cares about you so much.

"We should probably kiss so it's not weird if we have to later." He is very drunk, but so are you, and you agree.

Very sloppy make out session, wrapped in one another's arms as you slowly fall asleep, giggling between tiny kisses.

Night of the show, you watch with drink in hand, acting as a supportive girlfriend off stage.

Rodrick notices Eliana in the crowd.

"Kiss me, Y/N." He whispers desperately. "This is the time to really sell it!"

You look out and see her, jealousy coursing through you, before you take his face in both your hands and kiss him as passionately as you can.

He tastes like the minty menthol cigarettes he had been sucking down to the butt all week.

Pulling away, you watch him play from backstage. It's fun. They've gotten better since high school.

Rodrick looks to you every couple of songs, smiling at you. It's to really sell it to Eliana, you assume.

Final song ends, and Rodrick steps down from the crowd and into the arms of Eliana.

You fight back tears and turn around, heading towards your car. The condition had been fulfilled.

"Wait! Y/N!" Rodrick is running after you and catches up to you, pulling you into another kiss.

This one is way more passionate. You kiss back, confused but willing.

"I don't... I don't want anyone if they're not you." He smiles, running his hand along your cheek. "I love you."

You break down and hold him tightly, crying into his shoulder.

"I love you too. I love you so much."

[moonlight-frittata]

I Don’t Need a Mechanic

Overwatch: Dva and Brigitte (a few others make appearances)

Word count: ~5500 

My take on when Dva meets Brigitte and the first month or so of them getting to know each other on base.

---

Six months Hana Song had been a part of Overwatch, and during that time she set a very strict precedent that no one, not even Winston or Athena the AI was allowed to touch her mech, Tokki. So seeing the back of someone inside the cockpit as she entered the Watchpoint Gibraltar hangar made her blood boil. 

“Excuse me!! What the hell are you doing??” 

The person’s body jerked, their head banging against the low roof of the cockpit ceiling they wedged their torso inside. Hana heard a short mumble of something incomprehensible and a long, thick ponytail of red hair retreated from the mech in a hurry. A very tall, buff young woman around Hana’s age emerged blushing with a sheepish grin.

“Ah! I’m so sorry, I couldn't help myself. I’ve always wondered what these Korean models looked like up close. But in hindsight I really should have asked first.”

Her accent was European, but it was hard for Hana to place with any real certainty. Could have been Scandinavian, remembering some of the players from Finland she competed against back in her pro days. 

“Yeah, you should have fucking asked.” 

The crimson hue on the tall, possibly Finnish trespasser’s cheeks faded and she held her ground, not scared off yet by D.va’s harsh tone.

“Right. Won’t happen again, I promise,” she said. 

Dva scoffed a bit and pushed past the buff intruder to look inside the mech to inspect if anything was out of place. A moment of stuffy silence passed between the two and Hana hoped the other girl would get the message and leave.

“I’m Brigitte Lindholm by the way.”

Hana let out an audible huff as a familiar freckled face appeared looking through the glass on the other side of her heads up display.

“Oh. Yeah, Fareeha warned me a new girl was joining,” Hana replied from inside the cockpit while she busied herself checking Tokki’s systems. 

“And you’re Hana Song, right?” Brigitte continued lightly, clearly unperturbed. “Or do you prefer to go by D.va?”

Hana paused at the mention of her gamer tag turned call sign. 

“It’s Lieutenant Song, actually.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow at the curt reply, her smile fading to a neutral expression. It only dipped for a moment though as she extended her hand. 

It was an awkward gesture to shake hands from inside the mech, even though the front of the cockpit was partially open near the joysticks. Hana looked at Brigitte’s outstretched hand and gentle smile on the other side of the glass. Was this a joke? She pursed her lips and sized Brigitte up for a few tense seconds before reaching out. The grip was firm and Hana’s hand practically disappeared in Brigitte’s large palm.

“Lieutenant Song. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Hana sighed and rolled her eyes, a little of the bluster going out of her at the sincerity in Brigitte’s tone. Satisfied that no harm had come to the mech, she backed out of the cockpit.

“Just call me Hana. That rank doesn’t really mean anything here anyway. Lena will probably make fun of me if she hears you calling me Lieutenant.”

Brigitte walked back around Tokki to join her, a lingering hand tracing over the pink exoskeleton as she moved. “I’m surprised she doesn’t make you call her Captain.”

“Oh, she’s tried.”

Brigitte laughed. 

“Sounds about right.”

D.Va chuckled for a moment, briefly disarmed by the new stranger, before she remembered how this person was rudely poking around her stuff only moments before, and snapped back into her gruff demeanor. 

“Lindholm, you said? Like Torbjörn Lindholm?”

Brigitte sighed, clearly used to this connection.

“Yes. Genius engineer of Overwatch 1.0, founder of Ironclad Industries, husband to Ingrid, and father of way too many children, including yours truly.”

“So, you grew up in an Overwatch family?” Hana asked as her full attention focused on Brigitte for the first time in their conversation.

“You could say that,” Brigitte said. She picked up a silver ratchet resting on a nearby worktable, spinning the head around between her fingers and levering the handle back and forth, testing the weight distribution of the tool in her hand. 

Hana could tell there was more to the story than her new teammate seemed willing to let on. She found it interesting that Brigitte, who had been all candid smiles a moment ago when she was caught somewhere she shouldn’t be and oversharing to someone she just met, was now hand waving around the subject.  

Overwatch kids are pretty up their own asses about 1.0 normally. Wonder what her deal is...

This was what Hana was known for back in her pro days. Seeing a flaw in an opponent’s defense and breaking it wide open. But she needed to remember she only just met this girl, who would soon be her teammate. Maybe save that for another day. 

“Well, Lindholm. As long as you stay clear of my mech, I don’t see a reason we should have problems working together. What’s your specialty?”

Brigitte perked up at the change of subject.

“Support. Both base level engineering support and in the field. I've got my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering, and I’ve been working on Reinhardt’s gear for over a year now. Angela - I mean, Dr. Ziegler, is training me to be certified as a field medic.” 

“Tough job. Think you can handle the gore?”

A wry smile pulled at Brigitte’s lips, her head shaking back and forth in a small, bemused gesture as she placed her hands on her hips. 

“You don’t pull any punches do you, Lieutenant Song?”

D.Va crossed her arms, holding eye contact with Brigitte who matched her gaze with amusement. 

“The best shot caller in the world is just a loud piece of shit if her team isn’t up to the same standard. So yeah, I like to know who has my back and if she can handle herself.”

Brigitte regarded D.Va for a moment, her jaw working back and forth as if chewing on the approach she wanted to take in response.

“I’ve been patching up Reinhardt for a while now. If I’m honest though, I’m scared it’s not going to be enough one day. But that’s not what I need to focus on, and instead I’ll do the best I can to support the people here.”

The plain way Brigitte shared her apprehensions left Hana uncomfortable. She couldn’t imagine telling someone out loud she was afraid, especially on her first day. Though in truth, she herself felt scared shitless half the time while doing this work.

Brigitte’s smile was back. Did it ever leave that pretty face? It did suit her though, framed by the freckles and warm brown eyes. If this girl wasn’t built like a literal tank of 6 foot something muscle, Hana might have more apprehension about sending her out to fight Omnics and Talon. 

“Well Lieutenant Song, I think I’ve taken up enough of your time with my intrusion. Fareeha and Winston will be missing me very shortly for the rest of their planned orientation schedule,” Brigitte said as she carefully placed the ratchet she previously picked up back on the workstation, breaking the spell of awkward silence.

D.Va smirked, feeling tension leave her shoulders to match Brigitte’s playful demeanor. 

“Mmm, well now I understand why you were hiding down here.”

“Yes they are indeed quite enthusiastic and thorough with their material.”

She gave a wink and started to walk away, turning briefly to call over her shoulder.

“I noticed there was a small coolant leak under the left fusion cannon. Might get a bit sticky on the left hand.”

“Bye Brigitte, enjoy your 300 page orientation manual quiz.”

Brigitte waved once more and turned around, already so sure and familiar with the layout of the hangar and the base.

She’s just another Overwatch kid, and just another nosey engineer trying to get in my mech.

Hana lingered by her workstation, picking up the ratchet Brigitte had been fiddling with and thinking over their brief encounter again. 

Would this girl be a liability on the battlefield? Brigitte looked strong on the exterior, but then, so did Tokki. If you took away the mecha armor, inside was just a squishy human target bullets and fire could cut through like paper the second she was exposed and vulnerable.

Hana took a deep breath.

She walked around to the left fusion cannon and did indeed see the signs that a coolant leak was backing up inside the casing. Pretty subtle to spot with minimal visible damage to the exterior. 

Not bad, Lindholm.

D.Va pulled her headphones on, turning to her latest loop of pop songs to blast while she went to work removing the panels on the cannon to replace the broken coolant line. The task felt good, and helped her mind drift to thoughts other than her conversation in the hangar.

---

Hana didn’t see much of Brigitte the next few weeks. The new recruit was busy with training and learning mission protocols expected of field agents in addition to shifts with Mercy in the clinic to  fulfill the certifications Brigitte was required to complete. Hana would see her sometimes at dinner, often in a spirited conversation with Reinhardt or Lena. It seemed to take Brigitte no time at all to fit in amongst the old guard, but it seemed that’s what being the favorite niece of pretty much every person here would get you. 

Hana would half listen to their stories, always feeling awkward and out of place amongst their banter. Overwatch was like a family, but she was more like the stranger invited as someone’s plus one. Everyone seemed to have an ingrained familiarity with each other. A single word could trigger a whole series of anecdotes every person around had some personal insight to add on to. 

Remember this! 

Oh how is so and so?  

Damn, that was 5 years ago already? 

Even on her squad in Korea, she never had what they people here seemed to have. Dae-hyun was a close childhood friend and followed her into the MEKA squad, but the other pilots were a different story. There was always a bit of friction and distance with the rest of her teammates because of their history as pro-gamer competitors forced into an arrangement as teammates. It never really gelled beyond cordial coworker relationships. Hana’s celebrity status didn’t help either, only adding another barrier between herself and the others. The fame of D.Va closed her off in access to most people unless they were on the other side of a screen, and then they only saw a polished up version of herself. 

Not exactly the best way to get close to people.

Sometimes she was curious to learn more when she heard the Overwatch stories, but she always stopped herself before saying anything. It was easier to pull out her phone and queue up a game. Easy to pull back and ignore them, and usually they left her alone to do it.

She was okay with that. She was okay with keeping Hana and D.Va separate. She was okay with only polite greetings and trite platitudes. She didn’t need to know about the times from before, or what her Overwatch teammates did on the weekends. She just needed them to listen to her in the field and leave her room to make her plays. Like every time she started a new game, she didn’t have to focus on the past, or what others thought, she just had to focus on the objective in front of her. It’s what got the job done and what kept her alive.

---

Brigitte kept her word to stay out of Hana’s mech. She set up her own work station on the other side of the hangar where she worked on Reinhardt’s gear as well as her own. Hana would sometimes see the blue flash of a shield out of the corner of her eye over the hum of diagnostic scans or smell the burn of sparks from welding. 

One day curiosity got the best of her when she heard the loud, repetitive pounding of a hammer on metal and she wandered across the hangar. 

“You’re doing that by hand?”

Brigitte stopped working when she heard the voice behind her, the deafening echo silenced on the metal shoulder guard she was beating against.

“On this armor I do. Reinhardt’s gear is special from the time it was made. It has to be maintained with some older techniques.”

“Why?”

Brigitte looked at her surprised for a moment then laughed, loud and warm. 

“You know, I wondered the same at first. It’s a bit of the way this armor is made, modern techniques can be too harsh on it, interestingly enough. Too precise and it becomes too fragile.”

“That doesn’t sound true,” D.va said.

“Oh, questioning my methods huh? Well, maybe the truth is more I didn’t originally have the right gear out in the field, and Reinhardt didn’t have much modern tech either, so the only way to do it was by hand. But it’s nice actually to keep doing it this way, I like getting my hands dirty with it. Helps me relax.”

“See that I believe.”

“Well, I’m glad I have your approval, Lieutenant Song.”

D.Va rolled her eyes, but smiled a little.

“I told you before, you can just call me Hana. Although, I do like the respect of authority.”

“Lieutenant suits you.”

Hana smirked a little at the complement, turning to pick something up on a nearby table. She picked up one of Brigitte’s gauntlets, slipping it on her hand. Her arm sagged under the weight, the glove coming up well above her elbow.

“Is it exhausting wearing all this armor? How do you run around with it on? I can barely lift this thing.”

“There’s movement assist when the unit is turned on. But I mean, I think I can handle it.” 

Brigitte smirked as she made a show of flexing her well defined arms, and Hana couldn’t help but gawk a bit before she turned back to fiddling with the glove. 

“Um, yeah I uh, noticed you seem to be in good shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Brigitte was smirking, clearly enjoying the slight fluster she was causing in her new teammate. Hana put the glove back on the table and gave Brigitte a light shove on the arm.

“Oh give me a break, you know you’re buff. Do you even own a shirt with sleeves?”

“I’m very familiar with OW 2.0’s handbook, and the dress code is quite lax about on-base personal attire. But, mostly I just like hearing you complement me.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m glad you’re strong enough to move your ass around in this armor so you can protect my blindspots while I’m doing all the real heavy lifting.”

Brigitte laughed again. Hana couldn’t help but smile too at the warm sound. Brigitte’s whole face lit up, and her eyes crinkled around the edges. No wonder she was the favorite niece.

“Fair. I’ve seen your battle footage and some news clips when you were back in Korea. You’re so strong, I doubt you even need me.”

“Ah, another fan of D.Va. Well, who can blame you,” Hana said with a flick of her hair. She continued to walk around Brigitte’s workstation, picking up random pieces of armor. Brigitte didn’t seem to mind.

“Actually Reinhardt was the real die hard D.Va fan. We used to always have a stash of the instant noodles with your face on them in our rig. Great shelf life. I’m surprised he hasn’t asked you for an autograph yet.”

“Well he’s one to talk! Did you know, when I was a kid there was a Reinhardt special edition line of noodles? I remember I tried them once and they had such a weird flavor. It was like ketchup and curry powder or something. He had a pretty big fanbase in Korea actually.”

“Hah! I didn’t know that, but I’d believe it. There’s been so much Overwatch merchandise over the years, I’ve lost track. They were such celebrities back in the day.”

“Yeah.”

Hana knew a thing or two about having her image used for propaganda. She wondered for a moment what it was like for Brigitte, growing up amongst the same environment, but removed from the center of it. An image of her laughing in the cafeteria with the old guard flashed through her mind. She decided it must have not been too bad, and refrained from asking the question.

“Okay well, I’ll leave you to your meditative, hammer time. I need to get back to my mech anyway, I’ve got a mission tomorrow morning,” Hana said, turning to leave. Brigitte let out a long sigh, slumping into a chair. 

“Oh, it must be nice to leave the base.”

Hana stopped in her tracks, curious again, hearing such an outburst from Brigitte. She turned around and poked one of Brigitte’s large muscles near her shoulder.

“Oh come on, don’t be dramatic. You’ll be done with your training block soon. Fareeha is just, really particular before she lets anyone out on a mission. It took almost two months, and me breaking every score in the simulators for her to let me out in the field.”

“I know, I know. It just sucks sometimes feeling like everyone is being overprotective of me. I can handle myself, I’m not a little kid.”

Hana couldn’t help but give a little hmphf sound, her lips pulling down at the corners. 

“Yeah, I get that feeling. You can’t speed up time though, you just have to grind it out.”

Hana wasn’t normally one for listening to whining, but she thought Brigitte looked quite cute while she pouted, her arms crossed tight against her torso and her lip jutted out. It was hard not to laugh at the sight a bit, but Hana held her tongue. She really did know how it felt to want to prove yourself.

“Hey come on, there’s plenty of work you’re doing here that’s valuable. And when you’re ready, you’ll get called up and out there with the rest of us.”

Brigitte took a deep breath, seeming to blow out the negative feelings in one dramatic sigh. When she straightened up in her chair she seemed to be in better spirits, smiling at Hana again.

“You probably know better than anyone how to do that. Thanks Lieutenant, I’ll try. Let me know if my hammering gets too distracting. I can always go find something else to do.”

“It’s fine. I hardly noticed.”

“Well in that case, I’ll just be over here until dinner time.”

---

A few days later Hana almost threw her computer across the hangar. 

“Why is this piece of shit so useless!”

The MEKA diagnostic program she used to keep Tokki up to date was crashing every five minutes when she tried to run a scan of the system. It had slowly been degrading the last few weeks and after the latest mission it apparently decided it had enough. She tried every trick she knew, both from working on the mech for years and everything she could think of on her personal gaming rig, but she only had rudimentary coding skills and was vastly out of her depth.

“Everything okay?”

Brigitte’s gentle voice called out from a few feet away as she had stopped her own work to come see D.Va’s meltdown.

“Everything’s fine. Except I’m going to have to go throw this piece of crap, and then myself, in the ocean.”

“Sounds like a costly solution. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine, I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She could feel Brigitte’s sympathetic look burning into her cheek and hated it.

“Okay no problem. I’m around though, just let me know if you want an extra set of eyes.”

Hana stared at the email she had sent to Dae-Hyun the day before that still had no response. She knew her mech’s hardware inside and out, but he was the one who really handled all the intense computer program internals. She was out of her depth here and needed him to call her so she could get this thing working again, but he wasn’t answering. Maybe he was deployed somewhere or too busy with a social life now that she was gone. 

She had decided to come here for Overwatch. So maybe she should trust Overwatch.

“Brigitte, wait a minute.”

The other girl paused and turned, only having walked a few feet away from D.Va’s workstation.

“I could probably use some help here, if you’re still offering?”

Brigitte smiled, but it was more muted than her usual mega watt grin. Hana appreciated that she wasn’t making a big deal about it. 

God, why is this girl so nice.

“Definitely.”

Brigitte walked around the workbench where Hana set up her computer station and listened to the general description of the problems. As Hana started clicking through screens to show the protocol she usual ran, Brigitte held up a hand to make her stop.

“I understand what you’re saying, but looking at the text, I can’t read Korean. Does it have a translation setting?” “I doubt it. This thing was only meant to be used by the Korean MEKA squad.” Hana felt her stomach drop at how quick her hopes of getting this programming running were already dashed.

“Well lucky for us, Overwatch has some very robust translation tech we can utilize.” “Really? It’s not the AI is it? I’ve been so resistant to letting her in my computer.”

“That would be one possibility, but there are some more localized options we have. I’ve had to do this once or twice on one of my papa’s projects.”

“How long will it take?” “Don’t know! Could take a while, I’m not going to lie to you, especially with your program already acting buggy. But don’t worry Lieutenant, we’ll sort you out.”

Hana groaned, already having major doubts about letting Brigitte mess with her tech. But she didn’t have a lot of options, and this was probably the least embarrassing choice on the table at the moment. 

Brigitte moved back and forth between D.Va’s workstation and her own across the hangar, gathering cables and a laptop she would use to debug the system. Hana watched over Brigitte’s shoulder for a while, monitoring her work to get the translation program working on the MEKA diagnostic software. 

“Where’d you learn to do this type of thing?”

“Back in college. I had to learn a certain amount of coding for my major, but I helped out Winston some in his lab on campus and he taught me a lot of tricks too.”

“Jesus, is there literally anyone on this fucking base you don’t have some personal connection with?” 

Hana stepped away from the computer and dropped down into an empty chair with a huff, spinning the chair on its axis in erratic circles.

Brigitte stopped typing and watched Hana’s tantrum. “It bothers you that I’ve got a close connection to Overwatch?”

Hana did not reply, but crossed her arms and let out a frustrated sigh. Brigitte’s gaze held her for a moment but eventually shifted back to the computer screen as she seemed to weigh her thoughts on how to respond.

“Why did you leave the MEKA squad to join Overwatch?” she asked finally. “It doesn’t have the best history as an organization, you know.”

Hana stopped spinning to look at the side of Brigitte’s face, who’s eyes were still trained on the laptop screen. “Well it’s better to actually be in a fight than on the sidelines.”

Brigitte stopped what she was doing and turned to face D.va. “You’re the best pilot in the MEKA program. Why would you be sidelined?”

Hana let out a bitter laugh. “Best pilot? I was more than that. I was the face of the fucking Korean army! Which eventually meant I was too valuable to be an actual soldier.” Hana stood up walking to the end of the workbench, reaching out to touch one of her mecha’s guns. She couldn’t see Brigitte, but she could feel the other girl watching her.

“I got real banged up in a fight with the Gwishin. Like, probably should have died kind of banged up. I was out of action for months. After that, the army realized they couldn’t let the poster girl for their success stories die in an actual fight. So they moved me off the Busan base and deployed me to lead baby fights happening inland, but whose sole purpose was really just a photo op.”

Hana balled her fist in anger at her side, remembering how awful it hurt seeing images of herself on television in all those epic battle sequences, reporters singing praises of heroism, only to know the real truth that it was all a fabricated lie. She couldn’t stand it.

“So when Winston and Lena came to my apartment and asked me to join the new Overwatch, it was a no brainer. My piloting skills are too valuable to just be sidelined in a studio with a green screen.”

The MEKA squad team was fairly understanding when she told them. The same couldn’t be said for her commanding officers, but as D.Va, the amount of influence and money at her disposal proved sufficient for a smooth enough transition.

“I believed this was my shot to get back in the fight. So even if there’s some bad history there, this is a new chance for me, and I am ready to deal with any fallout.” 

Text whizzed by in the background of the computer screen as the console spat out a continuous stream of logs from the program Brigitte fired off as she listened in silence. 

“I never liked Overwatch. I still don’t,” Brigitte finally said.

Hana turned to face her, very confused. 

“Really? But, you’re like, one of the legacy kids.”

“All that means is I know more of the gritty details and seen firsthand the way people I love were chewed up by this place.”

Hana’s brow furrowed in thought, crossing her arms as she focused on Brigitte. Hana had been so taken in by all the happy scenes in the mess hall and around the base, she hadn’t even thought about the implications and complications that must have been a part of Brigitte’s life. She was so good at always putting on a bright face, how could she have known? 

Brigitte took a deep breath, looking weary as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“When I was a kid, it was like I was one of those audience members you talked about. I was told all the best stories about heroes and villains, and it so happened that my family were literally starring as those heroes. But when I was a little older, I started learning more about history, and the other side of things. The PETRAS act. In fighting and war crimes. Blackwatch. Angela’s medical tech weaponized against her wishes, by my own father it turns out. Winston and Tracer buried under so much red tape, I’m honestly surprised they were ever allowed to leave a military base of their own free will. And Reinhardt... He’s a lot like you, I think. Brave, loyal, too stubborn to be just the face of a movement without putting his own skin on the line. Not when there’s something bigger than himself he believes in.”

A deep sigh, and an almost painful expression crossed her face.

“So no, I don’t like Overwatch. But I also can’t sit on the sidelines while they risk their lives, knowing I can help them. They’re my family. So here I am. Family can be complicated, ya know?” 

Before Hana could come up with something to say, the computer dinged behind them. Brigitte tapped on the keys, reading quickly when a smile crossed her lips. 

“Look at that, perfectly legible Swedish.”

“It��s fixed?” Hana hurried over to look at the computer screen.

“Well, the translation program is running. Now I need to actually debug your diagnostics program.”

“Ughhhh, I’m never going to leave this place.”

Brigitte chuckled. “Don’t worry, we’ll get it done. Feel free to go get some dinner if you want. This will take a while.”

“No way I’m going to leave you here all alone!”

“I promise I won’t touch Tokki.”

“It’s not...it’s not that, Brigitte. I just don’t feel right strolling off to dinner while you’re stuck here fixing my shit.”

Brigitte smiled.

“Okay. I definitely don’t mind the company.”

---

Hana tried to keep up with what Brigitte was talking about as she debugged the code. And she could follow along, for a while. Eventually she was way too lost to feel useful, and didn’t want to distract Brigitte while she was fixing the issues, so she retreated to a nearby futon against a wall. It was well past midnight, and Hana’s eyes were starting to droop. Brigitte drank one of the Dva branded nano cola energy drinks a while ago and seemed to be completely in the zone. 

The next thing Hana knew there was a strip of bright light in her eyes as the sun started to stream in through a window in the hangar. Hana stretched to pull out the discomfort her back protested with from not being in her bed, but it was really not that unfamiliar, considering some of the positions she’d fallen asleep at her gaming computer before. A blanket was draped across her body she didn’t remember picking up when laid down on the futon. She was all alone in the hangar and her watch told her it was just after 5am. 

“Brigitte?”

No one answered.

She sat up, noticing an unopened water bottle and energy bar laid out on the ground beside her futon with a little sticky note.

“Give it a go, Lt - Brig”

Hana scooped up the rations and dropped in front of the dark screen of her laptop. When she started up the terminal screen, her diagnostic programming kicked off like it normally did. All in Korean. 

The screen showed exactly where an electric circuit was tripping in the defense matrix grid of the mech, which had been glitching in the field the last few days. Hana noticed the parts and tools needed to complete the fix laid out on the workbench neatly, but when she poked her head in the mech, it remained untouched.

She smiled to herself.

“Kept her word to stay out of Tokki. These Overwatch kids are too much sometimes.”

D.Va pulled the panel off her mech and got to work.

----

At dinner that night, Hana spotted Brigitte in the mess hall with Reinhardt, Tracer and Winston. Brigitte gave her a wink when she noticed her. Hana got her meal and sat beside her, leaving her phone in her pocket for once.

“Thanks for the help with Tokki, Brigitte. Works like a charm now.”

“It was my pleasure, Lieutenant Song.” Brigitte’s smile was kind, her expression gentle and warm. Hana noticed this close up Brigitte’s eyes were lighter around the edges, and she had a few more freckles on her left cheek than the right.

“Did I just ‘ear you call ‘ana Lieutenant?” Lena cut in. “She’s ‘Lieutenant’, but I can’ get none of you to call me Captain? Double standards round ‘ere, I tell ya what.”.

“Well, Hana was a more recent officer in her respective position, while you have been discharged from the RAF for several years now.”

“Who’s side you on Win!? Those ranks don’t expire!”

Brigitte chuckled, whipping her head around to look at Tracer’s shaking her hand dramatically in the air, eyes downcast in an over acted, scandalized look. Hana also let out a small giggle.

“Your rank on the flight simulator scoreboard sure did,” Hana said, poking her tongue out with a playful smirk at Tracer. Brigitte, Reinhardt and Winston all laughed.

“She’s got you there, Lena,” Brigitte said.

“The youth of today. Ruthless.” Tracer grabbed a fist over her heart as if shot in the chest by a bullet.

“You know, back in my days of Overwatch…”

Reinhardt started in on one of his specially tailored stories for whatever situation was at hand, this case a very detailed recount of the first time he granted a field promotion in the Crusaders. Brigitte sighed, correcting inaccuracies she heard along the way, giving a wink to Hana when Brigitte’s presence in the story was pulled into the story much later on.

Lena took up the torch after that, remembering a time she accidentally flew into restricted airspace and managed to sweet talk her way out of being shot down. They all took turns sharing more elaborate one ups from their time before Overwatch. Hana even volunteered a story, sharing the time she convinced Dae-hyun to set Tokki up to stream a battle with the omnics. She broke her single day subscriber count in under one hour.

They all laughed well into the night, and for the first time Hana really started to feel like part of the team.

---

Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!

[theperfectlovestory]

Even If It's Not

Summary: It’s always been a good day with Natasha, until Wanda found you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Theme: Fluff, Angst

Tw: trauma, reaction to trauma, mention of death

. . .

Summary: it’s always been a good day with Natasha, until Wanda found you

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Theme: Fluff, Angst

Tw: trauma, reaction to trauma, mention of death

. . .

It was one fine day, like all the others for the past year. You woke up early, sunlight warmly casting on your face as it peaked through the opening of the curtain. You can hear birds chirping in the background, making you smile

You blinked the sleep away from your eyes, raising a hand to your mouth to cover the incoming yawn. As you move, a warm arm enveloped you, and you smiled at the sight of her

This side of her only coming out when it’s just the two of you

Your beautiful redhead sleeping soundly in your arm, head tucked comfortably in your neck. An arm and a leg on top of your body, clinging to you like a baby koala

You always can't believe that the famous Natasha Romanoff, feared by friends and foes alike in the battlefield, is one hell of a clingy sleeper

You turn your head gently, glancing at the clock on your bedside table

Time to wake up. No work today but you wanted to get some groceries to fill your stocks

You tried to gently wiggle your way out of Natasha's hold, silently cheering when you got out of bed without waking her up. Natasha's soft giggle prove you otherwise, making you pout

"I'll go back to sleeping then" she huskily said before hugging your pillow and burying her face in your smell, curling herself on the bed

You watched her body relax as she falls deep in slumber once more, smiling softly at how peaceful she seemed to be

"I'm going grocery shopping, want to come?" You asked Natasha in between bites, she looked up at you from the file folder she have

She's still doing reports, doesn't mean your on mission vacation, paperwork will do themselves as well

"I'll be wherever you are, detka" she smiled, sipping on her coffee "just let me finish this one and we can go"

You nodded, collecting the plates in front of you, Natasha pursed her lips, debating on wanting to wash the dishes herself since you cooked or finishing the report fast so you can go

You smiled, kissing her cheeks before taking the dishes on the sink. You hummed softly as you finish it up, Natasha, smiling while she listens. Whenever you are around, her paperwork doesn't feel as much a burden as it usually does

Done with the dishes, you went up to your room and changed into more appropriate clothes. As you put on your shirt, Natasha entered just fast enough to see what color of bra you are wearing underneath

She grin, standing behind you as she held your waist, kissing the side of your neck softly, innocently

Yet her intentions are far from one

"Nat" you warned as she nibble on your ear, she continued, right hand going up inside your shirt, your stomach now in full view of the mirror in front of you "we have to go" you moaned as she suck on the right spot under your ear, whining that you need to leave and she's messing up your hair...

"We can go a bit later" she answered, eyes meeting yours on the mirror "we can't, we have a reservation at that restaurant you like"

She grunted in your neck "I am not liking it very much right now" she muttered and you chuckled. Stepping forward before facing her

You pressed a gentle hand on her cheek "Come on, we rarely go out"

She looked at your eyes for a bit before giving up "fine" she softly answered, taking the hand in your face with hers, just as gently

. . .

"Can you pass me one of those bell peppers" you pointed at the container with 3 pieces of what you need. You smiled when Natasha picked one with just the right mixture of red and green. Small things like this are what you love about her. She only asked once and then remember it forever

"Is there a reason why you choose a combination of both and not just the green or the red?"

You thought for a while, blinking at the question you can barely remember the answer "I've always just done it because my mom does that too but I think it's because it's the most perfect condition to either store it or use it immediately"

Her mouth made an 'o' shape, signaling her understanding of the topic

"Oh detka, strawberries" her eyes sparkled as she put at least three packs of it in your cart, you giggled "isn't that too many?"

She looked at you, disbelief in her face "Do you know how much you devour them?" She asked and you chuckled "They're like your favorite thing in the world, you even prefer them more than my lips" she pouted, your fond smile never left your lips as you pulled her in for a kiss

"Now I know you are exaggerating, there is nothing more I love than your lips" you squint "well maybe except for your eyes"

You continued pushing the cart as her cheeks gets dusted in pink, you added a few more, items from the fridge isle before going on the dry goods

You passed by a small and portable fondue fountain, you eyed it along with the chocolates on the side

"Do you want that?" She asked, looking over your shoulder

"I'm interested," you hummed, "but is it worth it?" you sighed "we won't be able to use it as much when we get back to work"

"We can bring it there then and the boys and Wanda can have their fun, Wanda likes chocolate" at the mention of your bestfriends name, your eyes lit up

Now slightly more convinced

She leaned closer, whispering things you can do with the melted chocolate on the kitchen table. Your face blushed furiously as you hit her in the arm but despite that, you took a box and a bunch of carefully picked chocolate

She chuckled, eyes hooded with the thoughts too dirty to be even thinking about in the middle of the grocery aisle

You then looked around some more. Your list has been fulfilled but you opted to roam around to get some snacks or check new things the store has. Natasha obediently followed. Checking the items too and getting some that interests her

Mostly snacks

After you are satisfied with your purchase, you go to the cashier to pay. You will opt for a self serves but they only allow 20 items below, and your cart is obviously more than 20

The cashier greeted you with a smile, you doing the same. Making small talks to try and make the day easier for the kind worker. Natasha smiled admiringly at how easy you are to have a conversation with

The cashier is all smiles even after you paid and left

"I have always admired the way you do that" she said as she help you put the bag on the trunk of your car

"Do what?" You asked, tilting your head

"Talking to people, making them feel comfortable"

You nodded, humming as you continued with your task "It wasn't always as easy, but it comes with the job"

"I refuse to believe that you weren't always rainbows and sunshine" she argued and you chuckled

"Darling, I'm an introvert, the mere mention of conversation terrifies me" she looked at you dumbfounded for a second and you did the same just with an amuse smile instead

"Guess you learn something new everyday even when you are technically, already married" she muttered, closing the trunk "what else don't I know about you?"

She opened the door for you and you got in, making sure to shake of the bottom of your shoes to remove at least a bit of dust on it, Natasha smiled at the gesture

She closed the door once you are settled and got on hers, doing the same as you did before starting the car, making sure it's heat up properly first before starting to drive

You sat in silence for a few second as you think of things she doesn't know yet "well, I used to date guys" her eyes widen, looking back at you then back on the road

"Really?" She asked "what changed?"

"Nothing" you shrug "I just didn't realize I was into girls, the norm is being straight after all, but the first kiss I had with a guy was nothing compared to my first kiss with a girl"

She hummed, "and when was your first kiss with one?"

The conversation flowed seamlessly in your head, every smile and chuckles and groans she responded you with was embed in your memory

. . .

As per your usual arrangement, you and Natasha arrived at the restaurant at different times. Wanting to keep the surprised of seeing each other dressed up beautifully, knowing full well it’s to please the person who will be sitting in front of the other

You arrived in your newly bought shiny short dress with a lot of skin showing but still very decent. You’ve done your hair perfectly that it frames your face and your make up is a bit fiercer, bolder. You wanted to surprise Natasha, show her a different side than the usual girl-next-door

Her brow lifted up, lips in a side smile of surprise. You look edgier than her tonight and it’s making her feel all kind of things in her stomach

“Of course, I can’t go losing you to competition now” you smirk jokingly

She pulled your chair for you and you sat down, she leaned down and gave you one more kiss, not being able to resist the temptation of your red and plump lips

“Competition?” she chuckled, sitting down “We are married, detka, you already trampled all over them”

“Well, you never know”

The dinner continued with all playful banters, giggles and Natasha’s flirting techniques that you admit, did something to you. Not because of the lines, but because of who and how she’s saying it

 Along the lines, someone approached your table and that stopped you from talking to each other. You looked at the person and was surprised to see Wanda

“Wanda?” You called, standing up slowly as you take in her appearance

She looks tired, defeated, broken

“Y/n” she muttered, looking at you with sad eyes “Where have you been?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, lips into a gentle yet confuse smile as you held her arms “I’m on a break, but you know where we live”

“We?” She asked and you nodded “Yeah, with Natasha…are you okay?” you tilt your head to get a closer look on her face “Y/n…” she said, biting her lips “Natasha’s gone”

Your hand gripped the woman tightly as your mind reeled “Wanda…what are you saying?”

“She..” Wanda’s lower lip trembled, her eyes tight shut before she sighed, meeting you with her tired green eyes “She’s gone…she sacrificed herself for the world…don’t you remember?”

A chuckle left your lips, devoid of any humor. You stepped back, hands crossing on your chest “That’s a cruel joke, Wanda” you took a deep shaky breathe “I was just with her the whole time, she is literally right there” You pointed at Natasha who smiled at you like nothing is happening

Your brows furrowed and you were so focus on Natasha that you didn’t notice Wanda’s hand raised to your temple, eyes red and red wisp of energy flowing at the tip of your fingers

Your eyes widened in horror as the Natasha in front of you, smiling as lovely as you remember, slowly turned to ash, pieces of her flowing in the air. Your shaking hand covered your mouth to stop a scream that will never come, stuck in your chest like a painful rock that wedged itself in your lungs

Wanda moved further in your brain

You were back with Natasha in your dining room, eating breakfast and before she could kiss you, she disappeared again into ashes. The same thing happened to when you are on the grocery, before she can put the strawberries in your cart, her body flew away in the air, and the contents of the package spilling on the floor, strawberries roll on your foot as the scene changes again

This time, it’s Natasha and you sleeping on the bed, her arm and leg draped on your body. She tucked her head closer to your neck, this scene that you’ve been watching for the past year that brings you love and warmth and comfort now gives you dread

And pain

Your breathing has become shaky and erratic as you tried to forget the scenes before this one where she all but disappeared into thin air. As if noticing your discomfort, Natasha opened her eyes and called your name

“Nat” you managed to croaked despite the lump in your throat as tears well in your eyes

 Instead of asking the usual ‘are you okay?’ though, she smiled sadly, her face change to that time that happened a year ago

 Her hair in a braid, face white with worry and fear but she remained brave, determined “You’ll be okay” she whispered, hand caressing your face “You will be okay, my love”

 And then, as if the gods have cursed you to a life of loss and pain and suffering, you again, had to watch her disappear. Ashes taken by the wind, her smile never faded, not then, not now…and the three words you never thought would be the last, echoed in your memory

 You stood in front of Wanda, shoulders shaking from crying. Wanda pulled you close to her as she let you cry, whispering reassurances that she will always be by your side and yet, you can’t say the same

 “Wanda, you need to move on as well” Wanda’s tears started the moment yours stopped, you pulled away from her, but keeping her at an arm’s length “You deserve to be happy”

 Your face looked so peaceful despite what you just did, the scars from the battle scattered across your face and yet, to her, you were beautiful still. She pulled you closer to her, her body trembled before you and she watched, and felt, and embraced the feeling

 She whispered in your ears before your body truly disappears, just like Natasha’s “I thought I’m ready to let you go” she sniffed “But I was wrong”. Red magic surrounded the whole area once again, just like from when she arrived in the house you bought for Natasha and you

 "Even if you didn't choose me in this world too, I would just gladly be beside you. As long as you are here, I wouldn't care."

 And once again, you open your eyes. Natasha comfortably cuddled next to you as your lips turned into a satisfied smile…

 . . .

 A/N: "Even if you didn't choose me (don't love me) in this world too, I would just gladly be beside you. As long as you are here, I wouldn't care." (Credit to my wonderful angsty friend @my-wandering-rabbit for crushing my heart with this wonderful line and the title of this story)

[gyuluster]

txt as boyfriends

requested : yes, thank you @engenemoa-forever​!

words : 1.23k words

genre : fluff, just a lil suggestive but hella hella fluff, bitsa crack too

a/n : hi good evening thank you and sorry for writing this so late ))): i hope you and all u sexc mfs enjoy <3 special mention to @soobmint for helping out with this!! her ideas are too cute not to include <3

SOOBIN

this man would never stop thanking his luck stars that he’s dating you

a total lovebug - he is at his best when he’s in a relationship, so he just can’t stop smiling or simply be happy in your presence

is extremely shy so when you show him affection he has to hide himself so you can’t see him blushing like a churchboy

on the other hand, would always want to show you the love he’s too embarrassed to accept - would never be too proud or too shy to tell you how beautiful you look every morning or whispering sweet nothings to you in the night to help you sleep

would randomly cook meals in the night to show his commitment to you - even though he works extremely hard he would immediately take over the housework if he sees you tired

the PERFECT listener - you could rant about anything and everything for HOURS and he would not even fidget, listening intently to your problems

also gives insane advice so you always turn to him - basically your free therapist

endearments galore - “my love” is his utmost favourite 

dates always include romatic-lit dinners somewhere intimate, and always end with the two of you, hand-in-hand, looking at the stars in your home

in short, this man is wholly dependent on you - you become the beacon of his life, and are every way his missing puzzle piece 

YEONJUN

you both are fucking WILD

honestly no one even doubts the two of you are going out it’s literally so OBVIOUS

this goon is the most flirtatious little fucker known to man

WILL make you sososososososo flustered all the time 

he is so bloody shameless - like he would happily argue with another over how his girlfriend is the prettiest, and not someone else’s 

a lot of contact !!! so much contact on god!!!

HAS to have his arm around you all the time, perhaps the sneaky hand lingering on you all the time

ADORES to kiss you - honestly could kiss you all day, whether it be on your forehead, nose, lips, other places

would show you the whole world - spontaneous trips to either the streets of Paris or the mountains of South America, he’s ready to take you anywhere

y’all might not agree with me on this, but i don’t think he’d be jealous at all concerning you - in fact, he’s so confident in his abilities as a great-as-fuck boyfriend that he doesn’t mind you having boys as super close friends - he knows you’ll be in his arms by the end of the night

you are his only “darling” - his muse, and the love of his life

BEOMGYU

beomgyu as a boyfriend would be the best thing of your life yet the bane of your existence at the exact same time

constantly playfighting 

like you both are at each other’s NECKS at ever waking moment - whether that be over you purposefully taking the last chip to you threatening to burn his neighbourhood down

teasing!!! the teasing never stops!!! this man will have you blushing all the time - he loves seeing you flustered so he can make fun of you which then only gets you pissed

his head is ALWAYS on your shoulder - sometimes he just falls asleep when he’s a little tired and despite you tempted to toss his head off and into the wall, you let him rest upon you

the two of you don’t have particularly loving endearments - i mean, if y’all think “prick”, “dickhead” or “cumshot” is affectionate

a massive brat - either his way or the highway homie you’re gonna have to submit to his movie choices

KING of pouts — one of those bad boys being whipped out and that’s it you’re the victim of emotional manipulation

jealous !!!! this mans gets soooooo annoyed when other guys are bantering around with you — always results in you poking fun which then leads to him sulking in the corner

super late messages at night where he sends voice notes of him singing or playing the guitar which help you fall asleep

basically he’s a massive pain in the ass but it’s a pain you don’t really wanna get rid of

TAEHYUN

okay so this man is quite different from the others because he’s not instantly comfortable

it takes him time to truly mould into the idea of a relationship, but when he does it’s literally seventh heaven

the realest — he is the one who tells you the hard truths or any upsetting news he has — even so, you only want to hear it from him because he would never sugarcoat anything from anyone, least of all you

deeply emotional — his greatest wish is to see you happy and will go to great lengths to fulfil it whether it’s just going out to get your favourite snack or helping you through a more serious problem

HATES !!!! absolutely DETESTS to see you upset — if it’s anyone specific that’s it they’re getting their shit ROCKED

super observant !! this man picks up on how you’re feeling, whether you need help or simply want to be in his presence — either way, he senses and comforts you in the best way

LOVESSSS to sing to you — for him it’s one of the most intimate acts he can offer, so at any time when you both are alone, he will play with your hair as he sings a soft melody to you

is actually kinda clingy — once he’s most himself with you he always wants to hold your hand or at least be closer to you, even in certain public areas — it makes you MELT because it means he fully accepts and sees you as his own

basically, you could not live without this man — he is the epitome of collected, trustworthy and deeply affectionate goodness

HUENINGKAI

oh my goodness

hyuka would literally never stop screaming about you

some goon could be talking about the presidential elections and hyuka will still manage to slide you into the conversation — eventually someone will tell him to shut the fuck up (he won’t listen though)

HUGS GALORE !!! this man would never stop he NEEDS to have his arms around you or how will he survive ??!?!

is never too shy or proud to declare his undying love for you — one time he shouted it a little too loud and it resulted in him getting a warning from the neighbours

no barriers !!! this man would tell you EVERYTHING about his life it does not remotely matter how insignificant it is he will report it to you

spontaneous as fuck !! wanna go midnight shopping for instant noodles in your pjs?? travel to another city on a whim of a decision? hyuka’s the one you seek

super emotional — not like taehyuns, where it is more suppressed — his is an all out spectacle — if you guys have a fight, he WILL cry his eyes out

sleepovers ALWAYS have to include the both of you making pillow forts in your bedrooms while watching some fantasy adventure — you both end up sleeping in your creation

although you will grow up, hyuka is the man you can still be a child with and enjoy yourself

[blu-joons]

DATING NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Ten

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

Whenever he has the chance, he’ll have some sort of contact with you. Ten will take whatever he’s given, but if there’s room to pull you closer or squeeze you tighter, then he’ll accept it in a heartbeat and do it.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

A simple “hello” was all it took for you to feel very comfortable around him. The two of you first met a party, that neither of you really wanted to be at. You’d been on edge for the whole night, but around Ten, you soon found yourself feeling a lot more comfortable as if you’d known him for years.

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

His confession was romantic, Ten took you out one evening for a walk down by the river. He had a lot of love to give and he was determined to show you just how much he loved being with you. When he pulled you down on a bench, you knew that something was going on, just by the look on his face. But you never quite imagined that you’d end up listening to Ten tell you how much he wanted to be with you.  

D ⇴ DATES 

Your dates were always special, you could never quite predict what Ten would arrange for the two of you. Some dates were very intimate, he wasn’t afraid to take you out for fancy dinners or to huge events, but other times the two of you could be found slumped on the sofa with each other and a half eaten pizza resting on your legs. You loved how comfortable the two of you were around each other, regardless of whatever it was that you were doing, just your company was enough to make it fun.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

You were the first experience Ten had of a relationship, he’d always just been a trainee, never a boyfriend before. He’d often turn to his members for advice and support to make sure that he was doing the right things with you. If he had an idea for a date, he’d run by at least three of the other members first to see if there were any things that they thought he should change or tweak. All he ever wanted to do was impress you, that was all that mattered to him, every moment with you had to be perfect.

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

There were definitely times when things got a little heated between you both. For the best part, Ten was very empathetic and understanding of how you were feeling, but there were also times when he couldn’t help but get a little bit snappy and short tempered with you, most of time not realising he was doing it. If he believed he was right, he would definitely get a little argumentative with you. But it wouldn’t take the two of you long to realise that your arguments were pointless and work with each other again to resolve them and be able to move on from it all together.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

His family knew all there was to know about you before they even met you. Ten loved to tell them all about you, so when you got the chance to finally meet them, somehow it ended up feeling like you’d been a part of the family for years. And you didn’t have to get questioned much either, as Ten had already answered them.

H ⇴ HOME 

The thought of moving in with you was definitely something that appealed to Ten. If he had the chance to be around you more often, he’d take it. Whilst the two of you were respectful in the dorm, a part of him always felt like it held you both back from truly being able to be a couple together in a home.  

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

Ten was the first to say “I love you” when his eyes fell on you at the airport after coming home from tour. He never expected you to be there, but seeing your face after so much time apart triggered a lot of emotions in him. As soon as his arms were around you he just couldn’t help but let it all out and tell you exactly how he felt about you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

He wasn’t someone who got jealous much, he knew that the boys loved to tease him just as much as he’d tease them, so he’d be pretty good at just biting his tongue and nodding his head whenever anyone did try to make him feel a little bit jealous. He was protective of you, but he also trusted his friends around you to be respectful, and he trusted you always to never let anyone overstep the mark around you, but if they did, he wouldn’t be afraid to let them know.

K ⇴ KIDS 

Having children was something Ten saw in his future, he loved being around kids. It was something he surprisingly put a lot of planning into. He always imagined when the other members started to enlist that he’d consider settling down, whether it was in Korea, Thailand or somewhere else, he didn’t mind where he ended up having a family, just as long as he had one was all that mattered to him.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

If there was one thing Ten loved to do, it was tease you. If you showed him any sign of weakness he’d hang onto it and tease you about it for a long time. His teasing behaviour would always put a smile on your face, and on his too. But if he took it too far, you’d definitely stand up for yourself and tease him back. The boys had given you plenty of hints as to where his weak spots were, so you always used that to your advantage when trying to get back at him for mocking you. No one loves a joke more than Ten, and that was definitely something that you learnt very quickly about him. He hated it whenever he wasn’t laughing.

M ⇴ MISSING 

Being on the road was incredibly hard for him, it hurt his heart a lot. He’d often try and banter his way out of conversation around you, but the boys knew him better than that. Whenever a fan mentioned your name at a meet and greet or concert, he’d excuse himself for a minute and recompose himself. At that point, he just wouldn’t be able to get you out of his mind. He tended to try and switch off from you when he wasn’t able to talk to you because he knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else for the duration of the tour and that things would never go as well as he hoped them to.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

It was a weird nickname you had, he’d always call you “eleven.” It started off as a joke, so that the two of you could be side, but over time it just began to stick to the point that if he didn’t call you by it things would be strange.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

He was obsessed with your height, Ten was used to being the smallest member, but having you around complimented his height a lot more which was something that he absolutely loved.

P ⇴ PDA 

Being affectionate with you in public isn’t something that Ten is afraid of. If he wants to make a point that you’re with him, he’ll do it, but it definitely doesn’t happen often. He’ll love to tease you with affection in public, and whilst you often have to tell him to stop pushing the limits, he can’t help himself but to have fun.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

If he’s come up with a new choreography, he’ll love to get your opinion on it. Or if he’s stuck for a transition, he’ll ask you what you think and demonstrate. If you come up with a good idea though, prepare for him to take all the credit as he’s the dancer after all.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

Whenever he had the chance, he loved to get his sister to make custom pieces for you. Ten loved having a sister as a designer anyway, but knowing that he could get her to create things that only you’d have to was an added bonus. He loved to sit with her and get creative, telling her all of the things that he knew you’d like. He put a lot of heart into them, so when he saw you liked them, it was always a huge relief.

S ⇴ SEX 

As already mentioned, Ten has a lot of love to give, and he certainly makes sure to give it during intimacy. He prides himself on knowing your body to a tee, and never wants to leave you feeling disappointed. He’s prone to being a bit of a tease, but after some initial fun, he’ll be a lot more emotive and tend to take things a bit more seriously so that he can impress you and make you feel good and fulfil your needs.

T ⇴ TEXTS 

He’s not someone who will text you often, he’d much prefer to be able to ring you and hear your voice. It’s always a great comfort for him to listen to the sound of your voice, regardless of where he is or what he’s doing.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

Ten always imagined that he’d make a pretty good boyfriend one day, but for that, he needed a perfect girlfriend, and he had definitely found that in you. He was very much a better version of himself thanks to you

V ⇴ VACATION 

Being a part of two groups meant holidays were limited, so instead, Ten would try and get you a ticket for as many work trips as possible. He loved having you there so that you could see all of the cool things he got up to, but also be there to entertain him whenever he had a day off and nothing to do except laze around.  

W ⇴ WHINING 

He’s not someone who tends to whine often, he knows at times you can be busy. But if you leave it long enough, he’ll make sure you know he’s not happy.

X ⇴ XXXXX 

Very teasing when it comes to kisses, Ten loves to see how far he can push you before you either stop kissing him and grab him to warn him not to play any games. At other times though, he can also be very affectionate with his kisses. He’ll always make sure to kiss you, morning and night, and whenever he ends a call with you he’ll make sure to blow a kiss down the phone as he knows it puts a smile on your face.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were a partner in crime to him, someone who could match him.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

If you woke Ten up with a coffee, you were guaranteed to be his favourite person for the rest of the day. You never understood how someone could like coffee so much, but it was the perfect wake up call for him, especially when it came with you.

---

Masterlist

[ssscentral]

serotonin | for ara

Summary: He loves to rile you up - and you let him every time.

Pairing : Jungkook x female reader

Genre : Fluff, Romance, e2l (but not really), Established Relationship

Warnings : Kissing - nothing else

WC : 1.5k

Member : Lillia & Rid || @moccahobi​ & @taegularities​

A/N : HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR MAKNAE @heejinnien!!!!!! I hope your birthday is an amazing one! Some of us (@tae-cup, @hoebii, @jinings, @voiceswithoutlips, @biaswreckme, and @xiaokoo) have created a few collaborative pieces for your birthday! So take some time to celebrate and relax with our fun (and most def not quickly put together) fics! We love you so much and are so glad to be friends with you! May this birthday be an amazing one!!!! 💜💜 - Lillia

Jungkook was the epitome of hard work. If there was anyone you would’ve named as annoyingly competitive at your school, it would’ve been him - sarcastic, fierce, smart, always trying to up you whenever he could.

The science lab that you both shared was always an intense business, and the class knew how the whole lab would be punctuated by the teacher deciding which of you was more correct as soon as you and Jungkook entered the room. The semester had started one month and a half ago, but the whole team of teachers had taken note of the mess that the pair of you were. From trying to out correct each other to vying for the TA’s praise, the competition between the two of you was something that made everyone gawk and laugh at. This lab was no different.

It was a simple class to help you start familiarizing yourself with tardigrades before you did experiments on them later. You were simply tasked with drawing them and documenting the development of their eggs, but you didn’t think even such a thing could turn into a full-on war between Jungkook and you.

“So, if you look closely, some of you might have pregnant tardigrades under their microscope. The person who spots them and manages to document everything correctly, will get some chocolate from me the next time,” your teacher encouraged you, always the nicest sweetheart of your college.

Curse Jungkook’s superior art skills because even though both of you had pregnant tardigrades, it was like comparing a toddler’s hard work to something that belonged in MOMA.

“Teacher…” Jungkook shot you a knowing look after interrupting more of the teacher’s praise of his diagram.

“Yes, Mister Jungkook?”

“Well, you see… I know you expressed a want to hang up the diagram… but I honestly don’t feel like it’s the best I can do. Especially since Y/N knocked my elbow a few times and even scribbled something on my paper. I mean, I tried to make the scribbles look like part of the diagram… but I know I could do better. Could I try to redo it for extra credit?”

“Miss Y/L/N. Did you really try to ruin his work?” 

You floundered some and glared at the lying Jungkook, “N-no! I mean I did bump into him, but when our chairs are so close together, it is bound to happen! It wasn’t to try to sabotage him.” 

The teacher’s eyes narrowed before she nodded at Jungkook and continued on with the lesson, her better nature taking what you said as truth… as it was! That “bumping” was simple brushing him… that you might have intended, but still! Not maliciously! When the teacher’s back was turned to you and Jungkook, you sent him a glare, to which he smirked back before focusing on the teacher again who was pointing out more details about the tardigrades that needed to be added to diagram labels. 

And although the lesson was still not over - technically - she spoke up as soon as you and Jungkook handed in your work. “Perfect! As promised, Mister Jeon and Miss Y/L/N may leave earlier - you worked hard today again!” your professor announced, clapping her hands and spurring on the rest of the class to do the same - you could clearly see how annoyed and unmotivated your classmates were, and it made you chuckle.

Grinning back at Jungkook, you put the strap of your bag around your shoulder, knowing that he’d follow you very soon. He always did. The corridor was empty, the classes still going on as you heard his faint footsteps behind you. You rolled your eyes - no matter how many times you beat him in class (even if today, you only beat him by answering more stuff correctly), he’d always stay right next to you.

You walked in silence for quite some while until you stepped out into the pleasantly warming sun, the fresh wind grazing your skin and playing with your hair softly. There was a park you’d always go to, one that belonged to the campus, but mostly stood empty despite the large number of students at your school. Most of the students spent their days flitting between classes and fulfilling last minute assignments and they barely had time to look or go to the park that was ever so slightly out of the way from the other, less cool, outdoor spaces your college offered. 

Considering the fact that beautiful flowers and plants bloomed on the grounds of the small park, you felt like the students who never cared to visit were stupid and oblivious to the park’s amazingness. It was a perfect place to study, relax or spend time with friends, and now that you were released from your last class of the day, you didn’t yet feel the urge to go back to your dorm room yet. You approached a bench, your bench, directly next to the swing set.

As you almost reached it, still aware of how close your rival was, Jungkook suddenly grabbed your wrist to pull you close to him, his face just inches away. Trapping you in his arms, his eyes wandered to your lips.

“Aren’t you tired of following me around all the time?” you asked with a bratty smile, throwing back your hair as you awaited his answer.

“How could I ever?” And without a warning, he pressed his lips against yours before you could even give him your devilish smirk that he loved so much.

That was bound to happen, you knew it, and you relished in the intense feeling his careful touch gave you. He kissed you gently and with so much unsaid emotion that you tried to match, enjoying the soft touches of his hands against your body and the feel of his firm body under your hands. All of this, you both and your secret relationship, had started not long ago. Always the bantering couple that the school loved so much and you had long been selected as the ultimate OTP - something that meant one true pairing nowadays, many students asking if the class rivalry had ever become more.

As he kissed you, mouth moving against yours tenderly, softly, affectionately, the excitement in your body increased, wanting nothing more than to stay here in the empty park with him forever, pressed against his chest. In his arms with your lips locked together, nothing else seemed to matter. Not his insane art skills or who outperformed the other in class or grades. It was just the tender kisses and touches of him.

When he let go, stroking your cheek with his fingertips gently, he smiled endearingly. “Seeing you all riled up and motivated to beat me is so hot.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you pushed him away slightly, but his hands on your waist stayed stubbornly, firmly holding you in his grip as he laughed at your expression. “Good that you think that. I just can’t believe how much fun you have annoying the hell out of me in front of our teachers.”

“You’re the cutest when riled up,” Jungkook said with a smirk.

“And I can’t believe you said that I scribbled on your diagram today! We are stooping to lies now?”

Jungkook laughed lightly, one of his hands traveling down your arm to hold your hand. “Well… You got all pink when I brought up the bumps. I enjoyed watching you flush. You’re just so cute, Y/N.” He pinched your cheek as he said the last words.

What? You blinked slowly, a robotic laughing coming out of you. “Jungkook. I love you… but don’t do that again.”

“What? Can you repeat? I didn’t hear?” Jungkook’s ears were pink as he looked at you hopefully, his eyes glistening and shining as he spoke.

“Don’t do it again.” 

“Nooo! What was the first part? I wanna hear it again.” He whined and squeezed your hand tightly while bringing it up to his chest. 

Mimicking a deep thought process, you pursed your lips and scrunched your brows together. “No. You’ve not been a good boy.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock as his lips parted wordlessly, his hand going slack in yours. Laughing excitedly, you quickly removed yourself from Jungkook, set your bag down, and started off away from him.

“You might have to catch me to get me to say anything more!” you shouted when you were only a meter or so away, quickly catching Jungkook’s attention once again.

Even from how far away you were, you saw the tell tale competitiveness flow into him as he raced off after you. A squeal left you when he came closer and you quickened your pace, but it was no use. Jungkook was so much faster and stronger than you and before you knew it, he had swooped you up in his arms and spun you around.

“Tell me, you love meeee!” Jungkook whined childly as he set you down, pouting at you as he started to pepper your face and neck with soft kisses.

His kisses tickled you, and he enjoyed that every single time. “I-I lo-love yo-you!” you managed to squeal out before once again, he was kissing your lips.

“Good, because I love you too.” 

[winnetou-oldshatterhand]

That scene with Nscho-tschi in the bushes

So yeah, I collected and translated a few versions of that scene I wrote. For completeness’ sake: The first one is Karl May’s version, also translated by me.

Then we have a scene from my fic Das Buch, two scenes from a WIP with time loops that probably won’t make sense without context and at the end a little something about sibling banter written by someone with no siblings lol. That one is just for fun and written in about fifteen minutes max.

Original: (translated by me, from Winnetou 1 as on the Karl May website. Page ca 436)

I was already in the process of reaching out with my hand when something Winnetou said stopped me.

„Should I fetch him?“, he asked, whispering.

„No“, Nscho-tschi answered. „He will come.“

„He won't.“

„He will!“

„My sister errs. He has learnt everything very quickly; but your trace passes through the air. How is he meant to find it?“

„He will find it. My brother Winnetou has told me that Old Shatterhand is impossible to lead astray already. Why is he now claiming the opposite?“

„Because today he is facing the hardest task possible. His eye will find any trace; yours, however, is only to be found with his mind, and he hasn't learnt that yet.“

„Still, he will come, for he can do anything he wants.“

She merely whispered those words, and yet there was such confidence, such trust in her tone, I could have been proud of it

„Yes, I have never met a man who so easily learns new skills. Still, one thing remains he will never learn, and Winnetou feels deeply sorry about it.“

„What is it?“

„The wish all of us share.“

Just then I had wanted to make them aware of my presence; but Winnetou spoke of a wish, something that stopped me in my tracks. What wish would I not have loved to fulfill for those good, kind people! They had one and weren't telling me because they didn't believe I would fulfill it. Maybe now I would hear what it was. Therefore I stayed silent and listened.

„Has my brother Winnetou already talked to him about it?“ asked Nscho-tschi.

„No“, replied Winnetou.

„And Intschu tschuna, our father, hasn't either?“

„No. He wanted to tell him but I wouldn't allow it.“

„Not? Why? Nscho-tschi loves this white man deeply; she is the daughter of the supreme chieftain of the Apaches!”

„That she is, and more besides, much more. Every red warrior and every white man would be glad if my sister wanted to be his squaw, everyone but Old Shatterhand.“

„How can my brother Winnetou know this if he hasn't talked to him about it?“

„I know it anyways because I know him. He is not like other white men, he has higher wants than them. He will not take an Indian woman as squaw.“

„Has he said that?“

„No.“

„Does his heart belong to a white woman?“

„Neither.“

„You know this for sure?“

„Yes. We spoke of white women and from his words I understood that his heart hadn't spoken yet.“

„So it will speak for me!“

„My sister mustn't deceive herself! Old Shatterhand thinks and feels differently than you believe. If he chooses a squaw she must be amongst women what he is amongst men.“

„And I am not?“

„Amongst the red girls, yes; no one is equal to my beautiful sister. But what have you seen and heard? What have you learnt? You know how women live amongst our people but nothing of what white women must have learnt, must know. Old Shatterhand looks not for the glimmer of gold, nor for beauty of a face; he looks for things he will not find in a red girl.“

She lowered her head and stayed silent. So he lovingly caressed her cheek and said:

„It hurts me, breaking my good sister's heart, but Winnetou is used to always speaking the truth, even if it is a sad truth. Maybe he knows a way on which Nscho-tschi might reach the goal for which she strives.“

Upon hearing this she rapidly lifted her head and said:

„Which way is this?“

„The one leading to the cities in the East.“

„That's where I should go, you think?“

„Yes.“

„Why?“

„To learn what you must know and be capable of if Old Shatterhand is supposed to love you.“

„So I will go, and soon, very soon! Will my brother Winnetou grant me a wish?“

„Which one?“

„Talk to Intschu tschuna, our father, about this! Ask him to let me go to the cities in the East! He won't say no, he - - -“

That was all I heard, as I started crawling back silently. It felt like sin, having listened to the sibling's talk. If only they didn't notice me now! What shame for them, and even more so for me! Now, on my retreat, it was even more important to remain careful than on my approach. The slightest noise, the smallest coincidence, was enough to betray my knowledge of the beautiful Indian woman's secret. And in that case I would have to leave my red friends the very same day.

The Book: (Winnetou decides to read Winnetou 1)

Of course Charley described their last practice, the last test in detail. He had done incredibly well, many more experienced warriors would have taken longer to find the trace.

Wait a moment – Charley had attempted to sneak up on them? Winnetou vividly remembered him approaching them from the opposite side of the clearing. His brother had overheard him talking to Nscho-tschi? How could they not have noticed? Apparently he didn't have every right to criticize careless young warriors if he himself had paid that little attention.

Of course, he knew why he hadn't been paying attention. His plan had been to tell Nscho-tschi about his own feelings for Charley while they were sitting in the bushes, waiting. Telling her the true reason why he hadn't brought up her feelings for his brother. He had changed his mind at the very last second – a choice he was feeling eminently grateful for in hindsight.

Maybe his reaction to Nscho-tschi's words had been a little harsh but he had been jealous, pessimistic and his own heart had already been broken. Of course he had wanted to wish them all the best, his sister and his friend, but he hadn't known what exactly Charley wanted. His assumptions had gone towards someone just as perfect, as smart, as educated.

But back to the book. The wish he had meant, the wish he had refused to elaborate on was one his brother still hadn't fulfilled. To simply remain in the West, at Winnetou's side, with the Apaches. Of course the rest of his family had wanted Charley to stay as Nscho-tschi's husband, he himself would have preferred that didn't happen, though he'd never have said that. So his words sounded supportive, his deeds were less so. Sometimes Winnetou wished for his sister's confidence, but how could he ever hope his brother's heart would speak for him.

Maybe if he'd been less harsh, if he'd reacted differently to his sister's pain, anything but quickly suggesting education in the cities of the East, maybe his family would still be alive, maybe they'd never have met Santer.

Winnetou still felt surprised that he'd so entirely missed Charley's approach and retreat. Regardless of his heartache, you couldn't pay that little attention. Had it been an enemy both of them would have died. Still, why would Charley have felt he had to leave them over this conversation? Shame of overhearing them and still not reciprocating Nscho-tschi's feelings? That wasn't his fault, no one could control their heart.

After Nscho-tschi had asked to be allowed into the cities of the East, Winnetou had gotten lost in his thoughts. He had worried for her, considered the prejudices she would encounter, all for some vague hope. Their father hadn't been able to deny them any major wishes, not since they had lost their mother, not since he had lost the love of his life.

As of yet unpublished time travel/time loop fic 1:

Maybe it was a mistake, following the script his memories provided, but as of yet he hadn't woken up in the past again... Still, Charley didn't know if he could repeat all of his actions from back then, not identically at least. He had changed.

In spite of his twinging conscience Charley hid back behind that same bush in which he knew the siblings were hiding. It was truly remarkable that he had managed to succeed in sneaking up on Winnetou – a feat that had never been easy, neither in the past nor in the present.

„Should I fetch him?“, Winnetou asked, whispering.

„No“, answered Nscho-tschi, „He will come.“

„He won't come.“

„He will!“

„My sister errs. He has learnt quickly, astonishingly so; but your trace goes through the air itself. How is he meant to find it?“

„He will find it. My brother Winnetou told me himself, Old Shatterhand can no longer be deceived. Why is he contradicting his own words?“

„Because this is the hardest possible task. His eye may find any trace; but yours can only be found with thought. Winnetou doesn't know if his brother has learnt that already.“

Maybe it was his imagination, but Charley felt as if Winnetou had just a little bit more trust in him. Barely there, but something had changed.

„He will come, he can do anything he puts his mind to.“

Nscho-tschi whispered this, like she did back then, her voice full of trust.

„Yes, I have never known a man who is as skilled in everything he touches. There is just one thing he won't do, and Winnetou is terribly sorry about it.“

„What are you talking about?“

„The wish we all share.“

The wish to take Nscho-tschi as a wife – Charley didn't want that, true. If the wish was him staying in the West, well, he was planning on it. Last time he had desperately wanted to figure out which wish to fulfill but no one had ever told him. Would they speak of their wish now?

„Has my brother spoken to him?“, Nscho-tschi asked.

„No“, Winnetou replied.

„And Instschu tschuna, our father, has he asked?“

„No. He wanted to tell him but I refused.“

„You refused? Why? Nscho-tschi loves him, he respects our culture and knows our language; and she is the Apache chieftain's daughter!“

„She is, yes, and she is more than that. Every red warrior and every white man would be happy to have my sister as his squaw. Everyone but Old Shatterhand.“

Winnetou was right about that, unfortunate as it was, Nscho-tschi was not someone who would make him happy, regardless of her skills or beauty.

„How can my brother Winnetou know this, if he hasn't talked to him about it?“

„I know it anyways, I know him. He is not like other white people, he wants freedom. He will not marry.“

„But if his heart speaks? If it speaks for me?“

„My sister must not lie to herself! If Old Shatterhand chooses a squaw she will be amongst women as he is amongst men. He wants to travel. He won't stay.“

She lowered her head and remained silent. Seeing that he lovingly stroked her cheek and said:

„It hurts me to be breaking my sister's heart, but Winnetou will always speak the truth, even if it is not a happy one.“

Nscho-tschi paused a while longer before she suggested: „I could go to the cities in the East, learn, what Klekih-Petra meant to teach us. Learn what Old Shatterhand would want in a squaw, learn his culture as he learnt ours. Not just for him.“

„Winnetou knows Nscho-tschi wouldn't head to the East just to change for a man. She may like Old Shatterhand but what she really wants is to find a way for us to survive.“

Charley was glad to hear as much. He knew her love for him had little hope of ever being requited. She was a beautiful woman, a good friend, but once upon a time he had married a beautiful woman whom he had appreciated as a friend and as a person. Neither of them had been truly happy.

If anyone could find a way to preserve the Mescalero culture Nscho-tschi was surely one of the best candidates. But she had to die. This was his hell and there was nothing he could do.

This was everything he needed to hear so it was time to head back out of the bush and greet his friends openly.

As of yet unpublished time travel/time loop fic 2:

Those hunts and practices that once filled their first months together were fun now, not schooling. Charley proved himself over and over, proved that he knew his way around the West. Rather than painstakingly learning culture and language of the Mescaleros from Nscho-tschi he helped her teach what Klekih-Petra used to teach. He made friends with other warriors, sat with them at night to talk about the hunt for buffalo and bears. He listened to them talking about their squaws and children.

He was more part of the tribe than he had ever been in his first life.

This time when Charley got the task to find Nscho-tschi after Winnetou carried her he didn't listen in on them. He would be fine, regardless of what they were planning. If they wanted something they needed to tell him.

This time he entered the clearing openly, calling them out of the bushes straight away. Winnetou clearly showed his surprise at the speed at which they had been found, proud of the brother who had barely ever been his student as far as he remembered.

A new one with actual banter as a treat: (this is pretty much crack)

As I slowly and carefully crawled towards the bush I knew Winnetou and Nscho-tschi to be hiding in I began hearing furious whispers.

„You never let me spend time with him alone!“, Nscho-tschi was accusing her brother.

„Well I met him first! He's my blood brother, my friend first!“

„That doesn't mean you're his only friend!“

„Of course not, shut up!“

„You shut up!“

I had never witnessed the siblings quite so relaxed, even in their argument there was no malice behind their words.

„Nscho-tschi do this, Nscho-tschi do that, Nscho-tschi I don't want to play with you, Nscho-tschi ate all the berries daddy!“

„Oh shush you did eat those berries.“

„You're just jealous he wants to spend time with me too!“

She seemed to be poking his side as she was talking.

„Seriously Nscho-tschi, shush – if we keep this up Charley will find us just by hearing us talk!“

„You started it... But fine.“

And certainly, the siblings quieted down. Of course, I had already found them, not because of their noise, but they wouldn't believe that if I showed myself now.

It was strange, listening to them tease each other like I had witnessed my sisters argue about dolls and playmates, argue like I had argued with my siblings about everything and nothing at all. Winnetou had always seemed so regal, so otherworldly. He was human though, just like the rest of us.

As if on cue, Winnetou whispered a last time: „This is not going to be a Fort Tennessee situation, clear?“

Whatever he had meant with that, it was time for me to retreat.

[kim-ruzek]

Contentedness

Summary: Antonio Dawson is back in town for a charity event, and gets to meet baby burzek.

Established Burzek, AU as it goes off the premise Kim never miscarried.

Word Count: 3.2k words

Read on AO3

Notes: This is just a lil fun fic, mostly formed from a conversation with Cíara (as, tbh, most of my fics now are!) @justanoffalygirl

I hope y'all enjoy!

Kim doesn’t know how life gets better than this.

It’s a warm spring day, the beginnings of summer starting to break through. She’s in the park, on one of the spacious fields, surrounded many of the people she loves so dearly, soaking in the sound of laughter and playful banter that fills the air.

Days like this, to be around so many people on her day off, are few and far in-between. She’s only recently begun to be more adventurous with where she goes, and how long she stays out, and when already it’s so hard to get everyone together with their own shifts and lives, it’s hard to organise. So when opportunities like this come about, Kim leaps at the chance, especially when it’s doing something for charity.

And if that hadn’t already made her commit to attending, learning that this was an event organized by a charity the Dawson siblings were involved in would’ve. Antonio and Gabby might’ve left Chicago, and maybe not on the best of terms, but the first responders of Chicago are a family, and so the Dawsons’ will always be their family as well.

Kim admits, at first she was a little reluctant to see Antonio. They were partners, they had been through so much together, and he had just...left. Without a word to her. She’ll always be happy for him, that he got himself clean, that he patched back up his life, but she can’t ignore how betrayed she felt at him just leaving. Especially with what happened in her life after.

But she finds it so hard to keep onto those feelings, not when, despite the lack of sleep, despite the way it’s made her have to relearn her own ethics and morals, despite turning her world on it’s head, Kim’s never been more happy, more content with how her life is.

The reason for her happiness squirms in her arms, and Kim looks down at her daughter. Alice Ruzek is only ten months, but Kim can’t remember what her life was like without her in it. Alice, or Ally as Adam affectionately nicknamed her from day one, has changed her life in so many ways.

No longer does she stay up late for fun, the way Kim used to think she was behind on shows with just her job now seems like a dream, her head is full of Children’s lullabies and Alice’s cries, and she can’t count how many times her and Adam has had such stupid yet infuriating squabbles about things just because of lack of sleep or stress from being away from her for too long.

But all of that pales in comparison to how the sound of her laughter, her babbles, is the most beautiful sound Kim has ever heard, to how Kim could stare into her eyes all day, to how seeing Adam holding their daughter, rocking her, singing to her is the most loveliest sight she has ever seen.

To how Alice has managed to do the one thing they’ve struggled to do for years, to make them learn how to be partners, to communicate, to not let the little things matter, and have allowed them to realise just how much they need each other, to be each other’s person. To how Alice has truly completed their lives, how she’s brought them peace and love neither knew was possible.

“Kim!” The sound of Antonio’s voice drags her away from cooing at her baby girl, and she turns around, ready to greet him. They had briefly seen each other when he was at the precinct the other day, but intelligence had a case and he was busy, so they hadn’t been able to say more than a hello to each other. Kim’s been here at the picnic for half an hour, enough for Alice to be cooed over by her various aunts and uncles, having only been left alone, now. Kevin had stolen away Adam—the only person who could distract Adam from his daughter—to help him, and Kim had been just enjoying the moment before she was going to go over to friends.

Antonio looks good, healthy, relaxed. She had thought so when she saw him the other day, but she can truly appreciate just how much good Puerto Rico and charity work has done for him now, when he’s dressed casually, and out in the sun.

Kim grins at him, happy she did decide to put aside all her hurt feelings on how he left. He’s grinning at her too, but as he reaches her and she turns fully around, his grin falls off, shock overtaking his face. She’s only confused at the change of his demeanour for a second, as before she can wonder too long, he’s speaking again.

“You’ve had a baby! Congratulations!” He exclaims, happiness for her replacing the confusion. Kim doesn’t wonder for a moment how he was so easily able to deduce that Alice is her’s, and not someone else’s that she’s just holding, having had way too many people tell her just how much her daughter looks like her. It’s something Kim does agree with, but at the same time, all she can focus on is all the ways she looks like Adam, loving how she’s a beautiful mix of the two of them.

Kim smiles down at Alice, her perfect daughter, before looking back at Antonio. “That I have,”

“Seriously, Kim. This is amazing news; I’m so happy for you. Parenthood is one of the best, fulfilling things you can ever do. And she’s so beautiful,” Antonio says, his words warming her heart. It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before, but she never tires at it, and hearing Antonio, her partner, one of the first people in intelligence to believe in her as a cop, say how happy he is for her is particularly heart-warming.

“So I’ve heard,” Kim replies. She had. Everyone and their mother had told her just how fulfilling parenthood is. A lot of the time it had come unsolicited, often with advice she didn’t ask for, nor want, but the times it came from someone she cares about—like Natalie, Voight, Herrmann—she really appreciated it.

Kim introduces Alice to him after that, Antonio immediately questioning, correctly, if her name is a little nod to Alvin, and he coos over her a little, holding her as they catch up.

The day progresses at that, Gabby coming over and meeting Alice as well, and them all mixing back into the crowd of their friends. Kim had participated in some of the charity events, Alice being with Adam when she was doing that, and with her honorary grandmother Trudy when they were doing stuff together.

Adam had joked at one point they should receive some of the raised money, with how their big responder family had all demanded time with their baby. Kim loves it, so does Adam, that their daughter was being raised around so much love and around so much wonderful people, getting the childhood neither of them had gotten.

It was a few hours later now, and Kim sits on one of the picnic blankets, next to Sylvie, the two of them soaking up the sun. Sylvie watched her man, Matt, chuck a ball with Kevin, and Kim watched where Adam sat with Alice. The sun’s high in the sky, and while it was getting past midday now, it’s still quite hot and bright, so he sits in the shade with her.

There’s an aching in her, that wants to get up and join them, join her family, but she resists, knowing she wants to make the most of getting the chance to be in the sun, knowing Adam will just shoo her away, making sure she enjoys something she wouldn’t have hesitated to before she was a Mom.

Instead, she settles for watching him, and continuing to fall so deeply in love with him at the way he so softly and lovingly interacts with Alice.

“Needing a break from her?” Antonio asks, sitting down beside her. Kim glances quickly at Sylvie, knowing her friend had told her that everything is okay and not awkward—well, not that awkward—with the Dawsons’ but doing it on instinct anyway, the nonplussed expression on her friend’s face reassuring her.

“No, it’s just hot. She needs shade and Mommy, mommy needs sun,” Kim replies to her. Everyone at work teases her about how easily both her and Adam slip into referring to themselves as what they are to Alice when talking about the girl.

“It’s okay. She’s with Adam,” Kim continues. There’s a pause, a silence.

“They’re very close, aren’t they?” Antonio says. His words seem careful, calculated, but Kim doesn’t focus on that, instead grinning at him, her heart fluttering once more at just how much fatherhood suits Adam.

“Yeah, they are.” Kim can’t keep the happiness out of her voice, not that she’d want to. She’s looking back at Alice and Adam, watching as Adam plays with her. She’s too far away to hear them, but she’s watched scenes like this so many times before that she knows exactly what he’s cooing at her, and knows exactly what her laugh sounds like.

“What does, uh, the father feel about that?” Antonio asks. Kim looks at him, frowning a little, confused.

“Happy, I’d think.” She replies, shrugging off the weirdness of the question, and turning her attention back to her family. Natalie has walked over to them now, and Kim watches as her friend coos over Alice, and how Adam’s face lights up with pride, at his daughter being so popular.

“I thought mommy brain was meant to be gone by now,” Sylvie says after Antonio leaves. Kim looks at the paramedic, confused. Sylvie’s looking at her amused.

“You do realise that question he asked—it means he doesn’t know Adam’s her father?” Sylvie tells her. Kim’s mouth opens, about to argue against that, because of course he knows that, but then the pieces fall into place and she realises she never actually told him, never told him that they’re back together, forgetting it’s information he wouldn’t automatically know.

“Oh.” Kim says. “Oh.” Sylvie laughs at her.

“It’s amusing, if you think about it. Every time you announced your pregnancy to someone, everyone guessed she was Adam’s before you told them, but Antonio didn’t. And he’s been seeing Adam with her!” Sylvie points out, making Kim laugh with her.

“Finally!” Kim laughs, remembering how just how many people asked if her baby was Adam’s, or didn’t look at all surprised when she told them, when she was pregnant.

“Is it bad that I kind of don’t want to correct him?” Kim asks after. “Just to see how long it takes,”

Sylvie giggles. “I might be bias because he’s my ex, but no, not bad at all. In fact, you rest, I’m gonna go tell everyone he might talk to about it and tell them not to correct him either,”

Kim laughs, loud, as her friend jumps up, excitedly, running off to tell everyone. Sylvie is such a ball of fun, never giving Kim a dull moment when she’s around, and Kim’s once again reminded that they made the right choice to make her and Kevin Alice’s godparents.

Her laughter has attracted the attention of Adam as, after securing Alice’s hat back on her head, he gets up and heads towards her.

“Having fun without us?” Adam asks, sitting down next to her. He looks down at Alice. “Hm, what d’you think, Ally? That we should be upset she’s having fun without us?”

Alice, in response, loudly babbles back, making large smiles spread across both Kim’s and Adam’s faces.

“Hey, Ally,” Kim coos at her. “Having your own fun with Daddy?” she holds Alice’s hands with her own, her heart clenching at the way her fingers wraps around hers in response. Kim looks from her daughter, catching Adam’s eyes, seeing how he’s watching them with such love, such adoration and fondness and Kim knows, then, life really doesn’t get better than this.

The day was coming to an end. All the events had finished, the money raised calculated and announced and most people had left. All who remained was the Dawsons’ first responder family and their charity workers, all of them helping to tidy up.

Kim stood among her friends, all of them chatting between them, winding down and getting ready to leave. Adam stands next to her, Alice in his arms as she makes sure everything is in her pushchair. Alice rests against her father, sleepily, and Kim knows it won’t be long until she’s napping once more.

“It was really good seeing you, and of course getting to meet your beautiful daughter,” Antonio is saying to her, standing on her other side. Kim smiles at him. During the events of the day, when they were catching up, Antonio had apologised for how he left, that he didn’t even tell her. Kim had waved him off, but she appreciated his admittance to that it wasn’t very good of him, depending they were partners.

“It’s been good seeing you too. I’m glad you sorted your life out,” Kim replies, knowing she’s being truthful, and knowing that finally she’s gotten closure on that part of her life, that no longer will she have any left over upset feelings over how he left.

“I’ll definitely keep more in touch; I’ll want updates on this one,” he says, indicating at Alice and Kim’s smile widens, happy that he doesn’t want to go totally no contact with her, with the 21st, again. The way being in this profession, the bond you have with your unit, your partner, isn’t something she can ever truly describe to anyone outside this life; the bond is indescribable, you spend so much time with these people, you trust them to have your back—so when someone just leaves, when you have no idea how they are, it leaves a hole in your life.

Antonio’s eyes drift beyond her, smiling. “Hey, Trudy,”

Kim turns to look at Platt, who’s approached, Mouch by her side. Kim doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to seeing Platt like this, the person she is outside of work, when she lets a little more of her softer side oout

If you had told her all those years ago, when she first met the desk Sergeant, that she’d consider Platt family, one of the main people she feels comfortable confiding in, that Platt will be one of her main support during her pregnancy, that she’ll be her daughter’s honorary grandmother, Kim would’ve called you certifiably insane. But that’s how her life has turned out, and Kim wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I told you, it’s still Platt to you. You may not be a detective in my district, but I’m still your sergeant,” Trudy gives him a look, but her usual scariness is undercut by the clear affection in her expression. She then turns to look at Adam, or more importantly, the sleepy Alice.

“Now, how’s little miss Ruzek?” Trudy says. Kim thinks that if Platt was anyone else, she’d be cooing the words, but this is Platt, so it’s said still in a manner-of-fact kind of way, affection only an undercurrent.

“I know Adam can be scared at the stupidest of things, but calling him a girl is even too harsh for you, Trudy—uh, Platt,” Antonio laughs, and Kim grins, thinking he’s making a joke, until she realises he still doesn’t know Alice is a Ruzek.

Trudy fixes him a steely look, a true Platt stare through and through. “I was referring to my granddaughter, not her father.”

Platt’s voice is equally steely, as she accepts Alice from Adam’s arms as he passes her over. Antonio looks at the interaction, his expression comical as he processes the information. As he processes that Platt isn’t making a joke, as he processes Platt calling Alice her granddaughter, as he processes exactly why Adam’s been playing and holding Alice all day long.

“She’s Ruzek’s? Adam’s a dad?” Antonio says, shock in his voice, turning to look at Kim. “You’re finally back with Adam again?” He then looks back at Trudy. “Did you just call her you grandmother?”

“Someone’s got to be, and if we trust the ones who raised these two idiots, Alice will be lucky if she doesn’t need therapy and communication lessons before she’s ten,” Trudy speaks first.

“Hey! We communicate well!” Adam protests, before adding, “Now,”

“Listen, Ruzek. I was critising your parents, not you two. For all your past idiocy, you’re good parents.” Trudy looks down at Alice, who’s now sleepily lying against her. “You’ve got to stop crying so loud, Miss Ruzek, you’re deafening your father and god knows he’s already a big enough idiot as it is,”

“When did this happen? When did you get back together?” Antonio asks, once more bringing attention back to him, and his state of confusion.

“About ten months ago, give or take,” Kim grins. They don’t have an official getting back together date, as when Kim was pregnant they were still focused on primarily being co-parents, deciding they need to learn how to communicate well before even thinking of getting together, not wanting to subject their child to having parents like theirs, but they still behaved so incredibly like they were married already.

Their initial plan was to wait until Alice was a year before assessing if they should be more that co-parents, but after the stress that was Alice’s birth, and seeing Adam hold their daughter, Kim knew she’ll never want anyone else, never want to be more with anyone else but him.

“If was up to me, it would’ve been sixteen months ago,” Adam comments, his tone joking, even though Kim knows he’s being perfectly serious. Antonio frowns, connecting the dates and the age of Alice, his eyebrows raising.

“You mean...oh,” Antonio says, realising. Adam smirks, and even Kim finds the reaction amusing. At the start, when they first was telling people, Kim described announcing was more like telling people that she hooked up, unprotected, with Adam rather than telling people she was having a baby—Voight may have hugged her, but she’ll never get over the mortifying knowledge that she essentially had to tell him that she and Adam are each other’s booty call—but now, with Alice being ten months and her and Adam actually being together, Kim sees more amusement in this stuff than anything.

Antonio looks between the two of them, before shrugging. “Well, then. I guess congratulations, man. I’m happy for you,” Antonio shakes Adam’s hand, them going in for a bro hug. They pull back, and Antonio looks at Adam, proudness on his face.

“No wonder you’re so relaxed, fatherhood suits you.” He compliments and Adam beams. Kim knows that Adam still harbours some issues towards Antonio, but Antonio is still family, and family is important to Adam.

“Yeah. It may have been messy and complicated, but I love being a father,” Adam snakes his arm around Kim at that, pulling her to him and giving her a soft kiss on top of her head. Kim rests her hand onto his, squeezing it, and smiling up at him. And in that moment, in his arms, their daughter and family with them, and a contentedness in her heart, Kim couldn’t disagree with him even if she wanted to.

It may have been a messy and complicated journey, but now she’s here, now this is her life, Kim knows all of that was worth it; and that life really doesn’t get better than this.

[claudiasjeancregg]

also, 48 for joshdonna? for the intimacy prompts? <3

48. offering the other your coat

Josh Lyman/Donna Moss (2.1k words) 

posted on ao3 here

engraved upon my heart (in letters deeply worn)

Donna can feel the bitter chill against her skin as she slips out of the house. She presses the phone to her ear, waiting for Josh to pick up.

She wouldn’t usually go outside to talk on the phone- it’s D.C. in February, and she’d rather not catch a cold for no reason. But Noah’s already asleep and Jo has a geometry test tomorrow, so she’s trying not to make too much noise. Not that they’re disturbed very easily- especially not Jo. Once she gets started with something, it’s almost impossible to pull her away from it. Donna and Noah call it “laser focus.” She gets it from Josh, though he claims to have perfected the whole “work life balance” thing. It doesn't surprise Donna in the least- the list of traits the two of them share is a mile long. And having such a good work ethic has always helped her, especially now that she’s in 8th grade.

Damn.

She feels old all of a sudden, wishing Josh would pick up so she has someone to complain to.

The repetitive ringing drones on in her ear for a long moment before he answers and it stops. Donna has to hide her smile at the noises coming from Josh’s end- he sounds out of breath, like he’s on a jog or something. But it’s 9 P.M., and he’s on the campaign trail, so it’s most definitely not that.

“Wait-”

Something, probably the phone, crashes to the ground. She can hear him cursing under his breath. After a moment, he picks it back up.

“Are the kids okay? Are you okay?”

“What?”  She looks around for a place to sit, settling on the front porch step. She can hear him moving around, probably on the bus or in his office. She has no idea where they are today- maybe Maryland? California? She remembers Josh talking about touching base at home states, but she doesn’t have the energy to figure out what exactly he was saying.

“It’s late. You’re usually in bed by now, all cozied up with a book and a little fluffy robe.”

“A robe?” she teases.

“Well, you know,” he amends. “My sweatshirt and a pile of briefing memos.”

She shakes her head fondly before remembering he can’t see her.

“The kids are- I’m- we’re all fine. And it’s 9, Josh. I’m never in bed by now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

He pauses, and all of the movement on his end stops too.

“Hi,” he says.

She can hear his smile, and can’t help but smile back. “Hey.”

Donna huffs out a laugh at the absurdity of it all- they’re married, for God’s sakes, but he can still make her smile like an idiot for no reason. It still shakes her to her core, everytime they say “I love you” or they talk about the kids.

This is her life. Their life. They’ve built a life together, a far cry from the too-long glances and energetic banter of the White House days. They’re calmer, now- older and wiser and steady. But she loves him just as much as she ever has.

He used to be a whirlwind of motion that she couldn’t help but get sucked into, constantly talking and working and creating and never standing still. But somewhere along the line, between the hushed conversations in hospital rooms and the way his hand molded to the small of her back, he became her home. His love is the feeling in her chest when she watches him with the kids, the weight of a hand in hers whenever she has a nightmare about Gaza, the constant support when she talks about a new project she’s working on.

And he’s a jackass sometimes, obviously, but he never does anything to hurt her on purpose. And when he says something that makes her want to slap him, his eyes get wide and he frantically apologizes, begging her not to cry.

One of the things she’s learned since they first started dating is that her tears are his worst nightmare. She asked him why, once. “It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest,” he said. She almost stopped breathing. He turned bright red as soon as he said it, but still. They’ve settled into this thing, this domestic life that she never imagined he would want. Or that she would, honestly.

“Donna? You there?”

She snaps back to the present- “Yeah. Sorry. How’s it going? You guys are in Maryland now, right?”

He updates her on how their polls have been looking since they got to the state and she listens intently.

“How are Andy’s approval ratings? You’re right to keep Toby behind the scenes- I bet he’s going crazy.”

Josh relays a story from earlier that day about Toby throwing a fit because Andy refuses to let him write for her. He can barely stop laughing long enough to tell her, but she doesn’t mind.

“I should call her,” she muses.

The two of them grew closer after Gaza- once Andy got over the guilt and the absurd worry that Donna blamed her for the accident, they became fast friends. She’d always admired Andy- the woman had made driving Toby out of his mind into an art form, not to mention how damn good she was at her job. And as soon as they had been tasked with finding possible VPs, Andy was Donna’s first call.

“Yeah, I think she’s a bit tired of all the testosterone here now that you’ve gone.”

He laughs, and Donna can feel the ache in her stomach. She wishes he was here, or that she was there- it’s nice to have a break from work for a while, but she’d grown used to the pace of the campaign trail. There’s so much to do all the time, and so much to learn. Donna knows how to run a campaign, of course, but re-election was nothing like this campaign. This is new, and fun and exciting- and extremely hard. Putting a young, up-and-coming candidate in office is a whole different ball game, and she has a front row seat. She still misses the frantic pace of the White House from time to time, but what she’s doing now is so much more fulfilling. She has the power to change the country- or to give them a President who could, at least.

It’s the kind of job Donna from twenty years ago didn't know existed, and the kind of job Donna from ten years ago wouldn't dream of.

She’s no longer an also-dead- she’ll get her own damn obituary. She’s gotten past all of the struggles and the self-doubt, and now she’s putting one of her best friends in the White House.

Sam Seaborn as President.

The victory is a long time away, she knows- both Toby and Josh would make her go outside, turn around, and spit if they knew she was thinking about it, but she can’t help it. President Sam Seaborn. It’s a bright, shining light at the end of the tunnel. That’s why she’s doing this- for Sam, for her friends, for her country. For anyone and everyone who deserves a President that cares about them- she’s working her hardest to make sure they get him. That’s what makes this all worth it.

That thought reminds her why she called in the first place- she waits for Josh to finish what he’s telling her about Andy’s speech today.

“Have the results come in yet?”

“No, and you know what I was thinking?”

“Josh, I’m not going to talk to the Flenders again.”

“Donna!”

She can picture him vividly- pacing around his office, the same pouting look on his face that he always gets when he whines.

“I’m not your assistant anymore, Josh. I’m your wife- and your co-campaign manager. Get someone else to do your illegal activities.”

She expects him to complain some more, but instead his voice grows soft.

“I can’t,” he says.

She lets out a breathy laugh, trying to hide her reaction at the tone of his voice.

“Josh, I’m serious. I have enough work to do.”

Her stomach is on a roller coaster ride as his voice fills her ear. She’s taken back to Inauguration Day, years ago- sitting on his lap as they both tried to keep the inevitable from happening. He had whispered in her ear the entire cab ride from her apartment, hands resting on her waist in a manner that wasn’t remotely professional. The way his touch had felt that night- and later, when they danced together- had filled her thoughts for weeks after.

“No, I mean-” he laughs sheepishly and she can picture exactly how he looks on the other side of the phone.

“No one’s here to ask. Or, I’m not there to ask them, I guess.”

Donna’s eyebrows knit together.

“What do you-”

“Turn around.”

He interrupts her, the big smile on his face easy to hear.

She does, still confused, and drops the phone. Josh is leaning against the porch column, exactly how she had pictured him. Donna stands there for a minute, dumbstruck. Then she races over to him, enveloping him in a hug.

God, she’s missed this- the way his body instantly reacts to hers, the way he can’t seem to hold her tight enough. She can’t believe he just showed up here. She pulls out from the hug and he groans, like a five year old who just got his toy taken away. She would know- that’s exactly what Noah looked like whenever that happened to him.

“Joshua!!”

His pout turns into a wide-eyed expression immediately.

“How are you mad at me for this?” Josh asks incredulously, ducking to avoid the punch on the arm he knows is coming his way.

“It’s the first day of the primaries! You shouldn’t be here, you should be having a panic attack in your office over the Hartsfield’s Landing results!”

He reaches his hands out for her waist.

“I wanted to have a panic attack here.”

She gives into his touch, wrapping herself in Josh’s arms like a blanket.

“Okay,” she smiles.

He does not. “Jesus, Donna, you’re freezing!”

He rubs his hands up and down her arms, like he thinks he can warm her entire body up himself. He probably does- knowing Josh, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. She places her hands on his like an anchor, calming him.

“I’m fine!”

The goosebumps on her arms betray her, though, and Josh barely hesitates before whipping off his coat and handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she whispers as he wraps it around her tightly. It still catches her by surprise, sometimes. He knows her, inside and out- like the map of her heart was given to him long ago, and he’s memorized in by now.. He can always see right through her lies or false reassurances, like no one else can. Somehow, he always knows what she needs- even when she’s too stubborn to ask.

He buries his head in the nape of her neck, his arms secure around her waist. She laughs at how affectionate he’s being- before they started dating, she would have never guessed how much he loves to touch her. Gently touching her knee on the bus, squeezing her hand as they walk, holding her in his arms every night- he always wants to know she’s there, that she’s still with him. It’s one of her favorite things about him.

Donna leans into his arms and takes a deep breath, savoring the cold air. She’s always loved this time of year. It always used to remind her of growing up, of playing in the snow with her older sister while their parents watched in the back. But now it reminds her of winter at the White House, too- of thoughtful gifts and failed vacations and Josh, and Josh, and Josh.

She had always been with him when it was coldest. Somehow, it felt right that he was standing next to her now.

Donna turns around, framing Josh’s face with her cold hands. She presses her lips to his for a moment. It’s been almost 15 years of moments like this, and she isn’t tired of it. She’s not tired of him, of kissing him and talking to him and waking up next to him every single morning. And she never would.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his lips. She walks to the front door, pulling his coat tighter around her.

“At least this time I didn't have to steal your coat,” she teases.

Josh rolls his eyes, but doesn’t move.

“You didn't steal it,” he says.

She stares at him. He rubs his head awkwardly.

“I, uh- I left it there on purpose. Your coat sucked.”

She can feel her eyes growing wet.

“Donna, please don't-”

“Joshua!!”

She dabs at her eyes, trying not to cry. It isn’t the nicest thing he has ever done for her, not even close. And it was almost twenty years ago, but still. She takes a deep breath and grabs his hand, pulling him inside.

“Come on. Hartsfield votes in a few minutes.”

As they walk towards the house, hand in hand, it starts to snow.

this took a million years and i’m so sorry. this turned into something WAY beyond what i meant it to be lol- but i’m OBSESSED with this universe. and you BET i have ideas for all the other characters. 

so basically- sam is running for president, josh and donna are co-campaign managers bc one of them works in DC and stays with the kids, and then the other one comes back from the campaign trail and they switch off. this takes place on the first night of the primaries- so it’s like “hartsfield’s landing” but 18-ish years later. 

andy wyatt is the VP candidate!! is this extremely random? yes! but i love her to pieces SO. 

what else... cj and toby both work with them on this campaign. there may or may not be some cj/toby in this- or some ot3, i need advice!!! 

oh and before josh decided to run sam’s campaign, he was retired and was living the good life as a stay at home dad. jo and noah (YES FOR JOANIE AND JOSH’S DAD, LET ME HAVE MY ANGST) are 13 and 10, respectively. donna was working somewhere very important- i think she was working as a senator’s COS, then she moved to a policy center that focuses on women’s rights and outreach in foreign countries. 

title from “fair” by the amazing devil: this song is everything good in the universe and i’m obsessed with it. PLEASE everyone- go listen to it and come back and TELL ME it doesn’t give you soft josh/donna feelings. and just... feelings in general.

ANYWAY hope you enjoyed!!! i’m kind of incapable of writing good fluff but i really really really hope this was a good choice for this prompt- it felt fitting with the reunion and all :DDD 

thank you for the prompt!!

[apostlearcana]

Bits and pieces of a fic I wanted to write, wrote half of, and now feel like I have to tweak and twist and fix... are laying around on my Google Docs drive, and of course one of them is Plasmius coming back after thirteen years of drifting in space and being a- terrible person. What a surprise.

Of course when Phantom corners him after the last two weeks of secret bullshit he’s pulled to no one’s knowledge, it gets hairy and angry and we have a villain going hammy. Sorta.

If you don’t count the mentions that Dani and Dash were murdered thanks to him.

--

“Really, old man? The football field? You couldn’t think of a better place?”

Phantom landed gently on the grass at the forty-five yard line, fists clenched and eyes ablaze with fury. Even after all these years, it was still surreal to actually see the ghost in front of him. 

Vlad Plasmius was ten yards away, watching the man with the slightest hint of a smile. Just like old times, the two arch enemies stood on neutral grounds to keep the playing field even- so Phantom wanted to think. 

There was something off about this, however.

Even with his friends and family fighting off the army of clones that Plasmius had crafted, he had been so easy to locate. The Ghost Punk Spotter had been pretty helpful in that regard, much to his surprise. It also made him wonder, though; did that mean Plasmius was a complete ghost now and not a hybrid?

Plasmius did not answer Phantom’s quip, his head tilting to the right. “Does it matter?”

There was no mockingness in his tone. Phantom knew there was something wrong now, given the voice. He had heard it in his dreams for so long, but to hear it again in-person brought a cold shiver down his spine.

“Kinda does, y’know. Symbolic, some game of whatever the hell you’re playing… the works.” Phantom tried to keep it somewhat lighthearted, but it was falling flat. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?”

The other ghost snorted softly. “That should be obvious, Daniel.”

There it was; that name, the full name that Vlad gave him whenever he was chiding and condescending was spoken, and Phantom unclenched his fists. He crossed his arms, scowling now. “Some game of four-dee hologram chess that neither our families or we can barely comprehend with our minds, right? Still a fuckin’ chessmaster with all these dumb moves before anyone else can catch on.” 

Phantom raised his hand, mimicking Vlad’s voice. “‘Oh Daniel, you can’t even begin to fathom what I have in store for you and your family. I’m going to take them all from you, and then I’m going to take you out like the insignificant child you are.’” His posh voice stopped, and he lowered his hand. “Well? How close am I?”

Plasmius did not move, sans his eyes. They narrowed just slightly, and he did not reply to the mocking voice. Instead, there was a little smile that was on his lips; he would have been impressed years ago, had his human half still been alive. 

Those days were long gone.

Phantom clenched his fists again; he was pushing for a response. Any response now would work- anger, despair, a laugh. He just wanted something from the other, and he gritted his teeth. “Your game is up, Plasmius. We all know about your scheme to take over Amity Park, we know you killed Dani and Dash, the board of directors… all of it.”

Plasmius still did not open his mouth. That little smile remained.

“Well? Am I right?” Phantom challenged. “Did I get it all right? Or did I miss a piece? What’s the endgame?” His hands began to glow with emerald green energy, anger seeping into his words. “Why won’t you say something, god dammit?! Where’re your stupid cracks about Mom? Dad? Me? What do you want?!” 

He threw his hands up in front of him, raising them over his head before thrusting them forward. A beam of energy shot towards Plasmius, connecting with the target and engulfing the ghost with its brilliant light. Phantom’s eyes squinted before he stopped the attack of energy and lowered his hands.

Plasmius remained standing, not a hair out of place and a cloud of dust settling at his feet. His head moved, the smile now gone and eyes still on the adult. 

“God, you’re a fucking pain,” Phantom spat, leaning forward. “If you won’t talk-”

“You’ll what?”

Phantom went back upright, hands still clenched. That was what he was looking for- words, talking, any kind of banter at all. Deep down, he knew it was a fruitless endeavor; the whispers in his head told him everything. ‘No more games. No more fun.’

“You truly believe this is some ‘four-dee chess match’ I’ve been playing,” Plasmius continued. Even as he spoke softly, it carried more than his screams ever did all those years ago. There was malice dripping from every word; there was no point in mocking what Phantom was thinking. “That I have been planning this for years, that I’m here to fulfill some project or whatever that mind of yours is thinking.”

"You always used to, fruit-loop.” The joke fell flat again.

“What if I told you there is no endgame? There is no grand scheme; there is no ace in the hole I have to play to sway you or your family.” He tilted his head again, his gaze fixated on the one man who made his life what it was now. “If I had any endgame… it would be to make you wish you were dead.”

The speech was so clear; there were no lies to what Plasmius had said. Phantom swallowed and spoke just as softly as his nemesis. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? Dude, you’ve got some fuckin’ issues.”

Plasmius raised a brow slowly. “And what do you expect from one who’s lost his humanity, Daniel?”

“Wh-?”

Plasmius slowly raised a hand at the hero, his gaze steady. “Tell me. As one who exposed himself, lost his other half, spent years drifting in space and battling his own sorts of demons only to realize that the one thing that could fulfill his desires was the torture of one man that sent you toppling over the edge…” 

The hand glowed that familiar magenta hue, hair whipping back behind him as he smiled with his fangs in view. 

“I ask you again, Daniel- what would you expect?”

Phantom’s hands were alight once again, crouching into a defensive position. “Really wouldn’t expect you to show your face around here again, that’s for sure.” 

His mind was swimming in an overload of information, shaking his head and trying to block out the words echoing in his mind.

“Doesn’t really matter though. I’ll just kick your ass for old time’s sake and make sure you don’t come back here ever again.”

Deep down, he knew that would not happen. He was in trouble. He was in so much trouble.

He was fucked.

Plasmius knew it, too. He watched Phantom with that fanged smile. “...come.”

And Phantom did.

[poison--ivory]

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 4

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

For the next few weeks of your relationship with Alastor went from being worried about your well being to having hope that your life wasn't just a masterpiece of disaster. Things were finally looking up for you. Throughout those few weeks you got closer to Al, Mimzy, and Husk. Mimzy took some time to warm up to you and gave you the occasional threat now and again. You came to the conclusion that she cared for Al in a way that an older sibling protected their younger sibling. You can kind of see from her stand point of some random bim coming about and being the object of his affection.

      You felt the same way when Issacs's girl erratically showed up one night. They both came home from hitting the town and getting liquored up. Mama was a wreck that night yelling and hitting Isaac with her small hands. Papa escorted the young lady to the guest room, deeming her not stout enough to carry herself back home. Ever since that night you saw the young couple in a dimmer light. Losing some respect for your elder twin in the process.

 Husk on the other hand warmed up to pretty fast. Every time Al brings you back to the club, Husk and yourself play a couple of card games, losers usually paid for lunch. Teaching you how to deal all the way to keeping a straight face. He's a nice guy altogether, crunchy on the exterior and soft on the interior. But, you estimated that Al didn't like you talking with Husk for too long. He even goes out of his way to break up any sort of  conversation if he sees you two getting too close.

But, the most valuable information you received these scarce weeks were from the man himself.

 Alastor, the radio man is very hands on with you especially your waist. He wraps his lanky arms around your petite waist and gives you a strong, short squeeze before cuddling next to you. The only problem is he has to initiate the touching and he gets pissed easily. Al got so irritated when you gave him a shocking hug from behind and gave you a stern lecture with a small pat on the behind. You figured he hated people touching him without permission. To prove this theory you tried holding his hand when the two of you were alone. He yanked that arm back so fast all you saw was a blur. It took you around thirty minutes to get him to calm himself down. He spent the rest of the day with his hands in his pockets whenever you came into the room.

  Your courtier would never take you to his house, but he would happily go to your home and chat with the family. You were quite perplexed that your papa liked him. He's the type of dad that gets mad if his little girl even has a crush on another boy. Yet, it didn't stop there, even your brother found him likable. You're very liberated that they all seem to get along, but you were a little disappointed that they weren't as protective as you would think. Nonetheless, you felt very fulfilled with your man that day.

  Going on small dates are pretty joyful considering Al knows how to keep the fun going. If you even look like you're bored or uninterested he makes either witted jokes or invades your personal space in an attempt to fluster you. On some nights if you're really lucky he does more than just kiss you goodnight.

      Next, you seem to notice whenever family is brought up he talks about his mother in a very bright light. But, he never talks about his father. You brought it up to him and he dismissively walked around the whole topic. So, you never brought it back up instead you got him to talk about his mom. Apparently he gets most of his personality from his mother, Abigail. She taught him how to make jambalaya, singing, his etiquette knowledge and that prize winning smile that adores his features. This guy brings up his mother with such admiration that makes you question it sometimes. It's not that you mind his banter, in fact you found it amusing to hear him talk so fondly about her. You won't lie about feeling a little jealous from their closeness.

He's definitely a Mama's Boy .

 The last details you noticed were the really late night hunting he does. That lean frame of his is covered in scratches and small bruises. He tells you that most of his scars come from deer or jagged tree branches. It didn't explain the scratch marks on his neck. He told you those marks on his neck are from your guys last intimate moment together and without questioning him you believed his word. You don't remember clawing his skin. You left it at that and took him inside to mend his sore muscles.

   Blood underneath his finger nails took you aback, when he took his gloves off. You offered to help clean them, but he was really reluctant to even let you stare at them. You just wanted to help, but he thought otherwise. He stared at you from the corner of his eye before giving you a loud laugh and a resounding 'No.'. Like everything else in your relationship you just let it go without any further question.

 You should've known better.

    Nearing the end of June, with most people trying to find efficient ways of keeping cool. You were inside a hot kitchen all day baking a whole batch of beignets for a special little boy. Joseph's last night here was today and you wanted to make it fantastic for him. So, you invited all his school friends, neighbors and some of Claire's friends. You were going to spend most of your hard earned money on his go away party, however Al stepped in to pay for most of the expenses. He even invited Mimzy and Husk for entertainment wise. That incident still gave you butterflies and a genuine smile on your face.

     The only thing you needed to do was powder the pastries and get ready for the night of fun. Sprinkling the canister of sugar powder upon the delightful treats. Setting aside the sugary French styled doughnuts with a covering, taking long strides to the staircase you made it to your room to gather a simple long sleeved dress. Then, managed to freshen up with a nice bath and some light makeup. Packing the beignets in a proper container and double checking the  security of the vessel. Alastor should be coming by to pick you up in his newly repaired car, but the person at the door was not your Al. But, your dear friend Husky. He adored a simple white button up dress shirt, black slacks with polished black dress shoes and pulled together with dark gray suspenders.

"Ya ready, doll?" Blowing the rest his gasper smoke into the night air, He leaned his arm out for you to take.

"Where's Al," Taking his arm with a worried look on your face. ",did something happen?" He waved his hand off into the distance before giving you a slightly direct answer.

"He had some last minute stuff he had to take care of." You both stepped in his dark boiler and sped off down the pathway. "Don't worry he'll make it back in time for the party. Fucker lectured me about being late and look at what he's doing now." He scoffed.

"Well, thank you. For taking me in his place, Husk. I really appreciate it." Flashing him your most sincere smiles. His cheeks flushed a modest hue of pink before he scowled. Grumbling a quiet ‘welcome’ before his gaze drifted towards the road. The path ahead grew bumpier by every turn down a lane leading through the thick woods. We scheduled for the party to be held near the bayou at mid evening. So, by the time the party starts the sun should be setting.

   Husk and you managed to keep conversation up with the occasional bits of quietness here or there. Talking to Husk is like talking to your other self. Sometimes you could say the most random shit and he’ll come back with a response that will put a smile to your face. He’s basically like your second big brother with a small(not at all) drinking problem.

“So, when are you getting this car repaired,” The boiler hitting a jagged rock before settling back in place. “Because this gal has seen better days and probably a near death in its future.” You murmured under your breath.

“Fucking inherited this piece of junk from my old man. Shitty old fucker couldn’t even buy me a new one.” A loud, deep growl came from his throat and through one arm off the wheel, “Bought himself a new car, while I’m struggling to get to work and back.” He scowled and gave a great sigh before stating he needed a drink.

“I’m pretty sure there’s going to be lots of liquor, especially from those old geezers.” You knew that Mrs. Claire and her friends would sit outside their houses at dusk drinking away on those rickety porches getting buzzed. You know this because your papa used to take you out and sat you down on the weathered wood while he got tipsy with his friends. One sundown you took a sip of a stray bottle they left unattended, you being a small child decided it would be experimental to drink the loopy juice. You took one sip and gagged, spitting saliva and finally throwing up. Mama was so pissed, and wouldn’t let him go drink for months.

“Good fucking need it.” He seemed to ease up a bit just by the mention of booze.

“Why are you so wound up tonight anyway.” Raising an eyebrow over in his direction.

“Alastor didn’t tell me until last minute that I had to pick you up and I was already three-fourths of the way to the party.” His fingers gripped his hair, then slowly combed through it. “ Fucking asshole wasn’t even remorseful.” Adding in a quiet jackass in his blur of curses.

“What exactly did he say he was doing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking.” Conscious of his body language you observed his hands tighten on the steering wheel, his posture straighten for just a  second then went back to hunching. Husk’s Adams apple bobbed down and up, you wanted to chalk it up to him yearning for his alcohol. “It’s not something dangerous right?”

“Nah, it’s nothing dangerous he just had to run some errands and I guess he had more on his platter than expected.” He reassured you, his hand rubbed the top of your hands.

“I know he’s spontaneous, but this is kind of unexpected of him. He seems to love get-togethers or any social event with music.” You did have hopes for the two of you spending the night together. Maybe lay down on the grass and star gaze and probably watch Husk get drunk. “We do have time before the party, we could go and help him finish what he needs done.”

“No!” He groaned, slightly pulling on his face. “He already has Mimzy helpin’ him, and he would get pissed if I just brought you by.”

You really didn’t understand why you couldn’t drop by to help.

   If it was a work matter you would have noticed or heard about the situation, but nothing eventful really happened this week. The victims of the Bayou Killer reduced their number of murdered victims these past handful of weeks. Which makes you feel somewhat safe tonight and that’s sort of why you're throwing this party.

Maybe you're just reading too far into the situation and Al’s going to be just a few minutes late.

“It’s fine I know first hand how Al can get a little irked when people don’t follow his instruction.” Managing a small smile to your lips. “I was just a little curious about the whole ordeal.”

Inhaling a deep breath Husk created a deep groan that emitted from his throat. “Don’t beat yourself up, (y/n). Being curious about your lover is perfectly fine.” Taking another puff from his gasper and letting the smoke trail out the window. “ And to be clear here, he’s an asshole and you're just the clueless moth flying towards his flame.”

 Furrowing your eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”, you demanded.

   Husk made another groan emit from his throat, he’s been doing that a lot tonight. But, you never really see Husk worried, he’s usually either angry, smug or on the occasion vulnerable. He gets you overwhelmed with fear when he talks so lowly about himself, the whole scene of him with bottles on bottles lying next to his passed out body makes your chest clench.

“I’m not insulting ya it’s just,” He twirled his wrist in a small circle, “Al’s not some dandy who needs your concern. To be completely honest you deserve a fellow who would settle down and have a nice family one day.”

“What makes you think Alastor doesn’t want to have a family with me.” You tightly crossed your arms over your chest, “Did he mention any of this to you?”

“No, no when you have been with Al as long as I have you tend to pick up all of his quirks.” Another deep puff and that stick was gone. The smoke came out in rings carried off by the wind. “And his motives.”

    Opening your mouth to counter his claim, the upcoming lights flashed in your eyes. The lanterns strung up on steel poles lined along the large land area. You could already see a large portion of people starting in on their fun evening.

      Husk pulled over to the side where a small portion of boilers settled at. He stepped out and walked over to your side, wrapping his arm around your frame leading you down the path of bright lights. Prior to leaving you snatched the beignets from dash nearly pushing them out your mind beforehand.

      Joseph seemed like he’s having a despairing time with his friends. While they all played together, he sat himself down on one of the benches. Face cast away from them and back hunched over to rest his head on his arms. His little head turned towards your way, eyes closed, brows furrowed and crunching his nose up.

His gaze met yours and that little cannon rammed right into your gut. The air nearly left your lungs, but you deliberately gained your stance. “How’s the going away boy doing?” Returning his tight squeeze with an equally suffocating grasp. Little hands pulled on dress and a small face nuzzled into your side, Joseph’s petite face stared up at you, whites of the eyes turned pinkish. “Oh, honey, I know moving is really isolated, but look on the bright side. You can spend time with your cousins and experience new places.”

“It’s not the same.” His little voice raised a very squeaky octave. “They all make fun of me whenever I visit. They call me a baby for still sleepin’ in the same room as granny, they even called me daisy.” Shoving his face back into your hip, a large shiver went throughout his small body.

        You know from great experience about family troubles, but comparing your situation to Joseph’s would be like comparing a gator to a croc. They may look the same on the outside, but they have major differences. His family was more docile like a gator, while your biological parents were more like crocodiles, very aggressive and annoyed by others in their space. But, this isn’t your family, thank god, this is about your favorite little guy right now.

I should stop doing this to myself.

“I know this is hard for you and we can’t really change your granny mind any time soon.” Ushering him back over to the bench sitting him down next to you. “But, you still mail and call to us everyday if you want to. It might just make you feel better about being so far away from all the wondrous folk down here.”

“You really think that’ll work.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes I do think that’ll work just fine.” Stroking his hair out his face in the process rubbing the stray tears. “So, how does that sound.”

He slothfully nodded, looking up at the night sky. “I could have Aunt Shirley write my letters though. My penmanship is dreadful.” he quietly added, giving a small smirk direct at you.

    Shooting straight up, with a small bounce you pulled Joseph to his feet. “Now I made this party happen and got you to stay up late, just for you to pout and cry.” Flicking his nose you gave a soft smile. “How about we make this night better with a sweet treat.” You showcased the container and popped the lid off. The aroma of powder sugar met Joseph and your noses. His eyes shined a tad bit and that tiny smile that hung from the corner of his lips gave way of his joy. He sure did love these sugary confections.

“Thank you, (y/n). You made this night a whole lot better.” He gratefully took a beignet and practically shoved the pastry in his mouth. Humming that the French doughnut was indeed good.

     Walking off and setting the plate down you pinpointed Husk Downing himself with silly juice with some of the older guests. Deciding not being surrounded by drunk people was a good idea you made the decision of mingling with Floyd. He was probably the most reasonable person to approach. Upon seeing you he gestured to the empty seat next to him you gratefully took the offer.

“So, how has the night been faring you, Floyd.” Giving him a kind smile and gestured towards the party. “ Having fun?”

  He gave a noticeable shrug before answering, “I kind of wanted to stay home. But, you know how Clay can be.” He took another swig of punch. “Not that I don’t want to be here. I’m just tired from this week, ya know.”

“It’s fine to be tired. I’m pretty sure we're all tired from the month with the past killings.” A small groan came from your throat. “Why do you think the killings stopped all a sudden?”

“I feel like the fucker wants to put everyone on the edge of their seats and while we’re all nice and happy they’ll find another body.” Floyd’s outlook was depressing, but you won’t lie about thinking that way, too.

“You really think they’ll find one.” You questioned. All you got in return was a short and assertive nod.

“Mrs.Claire has a smart idea of sending her grandkid to Arkansas, especially in the condition she’s in. Barely can afford to feed one person on her salary.”

     Nodding you agreed with Floyd, Mrs.Claire does need help and sending Joseph to Arkansas would be her first step. You spent about the next hour talking to Floyd, Clay and his dame, Mama and Papa, your brother, Mrs. Claire and a surprising still standing upright husk. You grew worried about Al once you knew how much time flew by. Husk reassuring you that he’ll come later or in a few minutes. By the second hour it was already eleven o’ clock and by now you were more furious than worried. You decide to cool your mind with a few drinks and maybe a little liquor to ease your troubles. By your fourth drink you were a little tipsy and hanging off of Husk to keep yourself standing. You weren’t drunk. But you felt that if you let go you would fall straight into the dirt below.

       Suddenly, hands blocked your view. “Guess who, darling.” In your inebriated state you uncontrollably giggled. The anger is still there ;like a grain of stubborn sand in a bag. But, not so much as before. Turning around you pulled him into your chest.

“You said a couple minutes late, liar.” You huffed.

“I’m sorry, love, but something came up and I couldn’t leave it hastily finished.” A huge smile plastered his face, teeth and all. “ Do you think you could forgive me?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Liquid courage gave you the confidence of trailing your fingers along his chest. “ Maybe if I get something to ease my anger.”

Al’s eyes widened and that sharp smile turned into a smirk. “My little bearcat is getting handsy this evening.” He maneuvered his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. “Maybe I should take you home. Come here now chere.” He strolled back to his car with you in tow.

Maybe I should’ve been more cautious back then.

[searchingwardrobes]

Self-Promo Sunday

This story has never been posted to tumblr before, but it’s still to this day my most popular one shot on Ao3 (by both hits and kudos). I still can hardly believe it because when I wrote it, I honestly didn’t think anyone would even read it, much less like it. There are certain expectations for one-night stand fics, and this fulfills none of them. Mainly, there’s no smut. I just loved the concept and had to write it, then was beyond thrilled that other people liked it too!

Summary: Ruby convinces Emma that the best way to finish off her birthday celebration is a one-night stand with the hot British guy at the bar. But, as usual, things never go as Emma plans.

Rating: T

Words: 4k and some change

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People talk about having a voice on either shoulder. Emma Swan has three. In the form of her three best friends. Ruby sees everything through the lens of fun. If it feels good do it, que-sera-sera and all of that. Sometimes Ruby helps Emma get perspective and lighten up. Other times she just gets her into trouble. Then there’s Mary Margaret, the hopeless romantic who thinks that out there somewhere is Emma’s true love, and once fate leads her to him, Emma’s life will just fall into place. Like what Mary Margaret has with David. Mary Margaret’s voice is usually the easiest for Emma to ignore. She stopped believing in fairy tale endings a long time ago. And then there’s Elsa, the practical one. She also just gets Emma because where Emma’s been called prickly, Elsa’s been called cold, so she understands Emma’s walls. But she also cuts to the chase and isn’t afraid to call Emma out on her crap. The only problem is when the words coming out of Elsa’s mouth sound like psycho-babble. So Emma’s constantly got three differing opinions chirping in her ear. Even when they aren’t present because she knows in every situation what each of them would say.

All three of them agreed, however, on the best way for Emma to spend her 28th birthday. So she left Henry with Granny and the four of them headed to New York. After a day of shopping and a Broadway show, they’re now in the hotel bar, and Ruby thinks the perfect way for Emma to cap off the day is with a no-strings attached night of passion with a good-looking guy.

“The last thing someone with Emma’s intimacy issues needs is casual sex, Ruby.”

That was cerebral Elsa, of course.

“Although,” puts in Mary Margaret, “striking up a conversation with someone wouldn’t be such a bad idea. You never know where it might lead.”

“Where could it possibly lead?” argues Elsa. “We’re on vacation. In a different state.”

“Why does it have to lead anywhere?” Ruby asks with a shrug, “I’m just trying to find a guy for her to bang. When was the last time you had sex anyway, Emma?”

Mary Margaret’s and Elsa’s pale cheeks both turn ten shades of red. Elsa is blunt but never crass, and Mary Margaret’s never known any man but David, high school sweethearts and all. Ruby does have a point, however, it’s been . . . well, Henry’s three, so let’s just say it’s been awhile.

“Besides,” Ruby continues, “if you don’t drag that guy over there upstairs, I will. I mean, damn, would you look at him?”

All three of them follow Ruby’s gaze to the bar, not really expecting to be blown away because, honestly, Ruby didn’t get the title man-eater for nothing. But then Emma sees the guy, and – hot damn! – Ruby was right. It’s been awhile since Emma’s jaw has dropped just looking at a guy, but it’s happening now.

“Whoa,” is all Mary Margaret can say. And that’s actually a lot. She usually only has eyes for David.

“I bet he’s an actor on a soap opera,” Ruby giggles, “with a pretty face like that?”

“I wouldn’t call him pretty,” Emma says hoarsely. He exudes too much raw masculinity to be called pretty, not to mention the scruff on his face that gives him an edge of mystery.

“I agree with Emma,” Elsa agrees, “I would guess he’s a musician. Look at those tight jeans and that leather jacket.”

“Oh, I’m looking alright,” Ruby purrs.

The guy glances their way (because he feels their eyes boring into him, most likely), and they all hurriedly look away, except for Ruby who grins wolfishly at him and wiggles her fingers in greeting. But the glance was enough for Emma to see how bright blue his eyes are.

“God, Emma, did you see those eyes?” Ruby asks as she continues to ogle the guy. She smoothes out her skirt and moves to stand. “I’m not letting that man candy go to waste, Emma.”

Emma clamps her hand down on Ruby’s arm. “Now wait just one second. He’s mine.”

Ruby smirks at her in triumph while Mary Margaret encourages her to talk to him and get to know him while Elsa keeps admonishing that the whole thing’s a bad idea. Emma knocks back one more shot, but not to get her tipsy. She needs to have her faculties to read the guy; she’s not stupid. She just needs a shot of liquid courage. Because Ruby’s right – it’s been awhile.

The guy’s not stupid either, he glances over her shoulder when Emma approaches him. He knows full well they were checking him out. But his eyes also rake over her approvingly, and it’s plain as day he’s happy that she approached him. When he opens his mouth, a British accent comes out. The next chance she gets, she glances back over at Ruby and mouths, “Oh. My. God.” Then she composes herself, smooths out her hair, and dials up the flirting. Their banter is laced with innuendo and contains absolutely no personal content, which is exactly how Emma likes her one night stands. It only takes one more drink for him to have her pressed against the wall in the elevator. God, he’s a good kisser!

They giggle and stumble down the hall to Emma’s room, unable to keep their hands off each other. The door has barely shut behind them when he has her on the bed, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

Emma doesn’t know exactly what happens. One minute she’s moaning as he kisses along her décolletage, and the next he’s sliding the zipper down the side of her too-tight dress and the action is like a bucket of cold water being dumped on her. He gasps and pulls away from her, feeling it too. They both look at each other with wide, panicked eyes and then speak simultaneously.

“I can’t do this.”

“I can’t do this.”

He groans and rolls over onto the bed, flinging his arm across his face. They’re both lying there panting as their heart rates work to get back to a normal rhythm. When they speak again, it’s at the exact same time.

“I have a son.”

“I have a daughter.”

And then they’re both laughing at the absurdity of the situation. They both roll over to face each other, and Emma realizes neither of them are as drunk as they had been pretending to be. Emma props her head on her hand.

“I used to do this all the time. But then I had Henry, and well . . .he’s three.”

He smiles back at her in understanding. “I used to do this all the time, too. But then I met my wife, and then she died, and now it’s just me and Haley . . . she’s five.”

He stares at her for a moment, then sighs and stands up. “Well, I’ll be going then.” He says it in such a sad, resigned voice that it breaks Emma’s heart a little. He picks his jacket up off the floor where Emma had pushed it off his shoulders. But before he can put it back on and walk out the door, Emma grabs his hand. She’s hearing Mary Margaret in her head. You understand each other! That’s got to mean something.

“You don’t have to go,” she tells him. “We could watch TV, get room service.” Emma bites her lip, nervous she’s pushed too far.

“Seriously? Because usually when I mention my dead wife and my daughter, women are halfway out the door.”

Emma shrugs and gives him a smile, “Men usually do the same when I mention my son. Please stay. I want you to.”

“Okay then,” he says, smiling so brightly she can now see he has dimples. He tosses his jacket on the back of a chair. “My name’s Killian, by the way. Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan.”

*************************************************************

Emma wakes up the next morning in Killian’s arms, but not because they changed their minds about the sex. They’re both still fully clothed. Okay, maybe not fully. Killian’s in only his boxers and his white v-necked undershirt, and Emma is in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Still, they only did two things last night – well, three if you count eating way too much candy from the mini-bar, and sex wasn’t one of them.

The first was just talk; they never did turn on the TV. Emma would have kicked him out or tackled him in exchange for mindless sex instead if it hadn’t been for Elsa’s practical voice in her head. This is good, Emma. This is healthy. Amazingly, she told him all about her years growing up in foster care. Far more than she had ever told anyone else. But it’s because Killian, it turns out, is an orphan too and has his own tragic stories to tell. At age 13 his brother Liam became old enough to be his guardian, and then he had some semblance of a family.

She tells him how she started sleeping around at fifteen, craving intimacy while fearing it at the same time. She admits that she has no idea who Henry’s father is; even if she could narrow down the guy, she wouldn’t know his name. Her eyes drop to the mattress at that, but Killian tilts her chin up to look at him. She sees in his eyes that he understands.

He tells Emma how he idolized his brother. So much so that he followed him into the Navy, only to lose him. It’s then that he went off the deep end with liquor and women. He was in a band, too, so one-night stands had been easy to come by. Milah, his wife, owned a pub where his band played frequently. Even though she watched him go home with different women every night, she still fell madly in love with him, and he with her. When Milah got pregnant, he gave up the band, but they were so blissfully happy. Haley was only a year old when Milah got sick – stage five breast cancer. Six months later, Milah was gone and Killian was alone with an 18 month old baby.

“Haley’s my whole world,” he tells her then, and Emma looks up at him with tenderness in her eyes.

“And Henry is mine.”

Killian leans down and kisses her then, and it’s the most tender kiss Emma has ever known.

So here they are, morning, and Emma is curled up against him, her head on his chest. She thinks he’s still asleep until his hand starts rubbing her arm. Killian’s touch has heat that lights her on fire from the inside, which reminds her of the other thing they did last night: make out like a couple of teenagers. Even though he can’t see her face right now, she blushes as she remembers the moans just light petting had elicited from her. It’s then that reality hits Emma like a Mac truck: what they shared last night was far more intimate than mere sex would have been. She can hear Elsa’s voice in her head: Queue the panic. And sure enough, it comes. Emma takes a few deep breaths before slipping as calmly as she can from his embrace. He’s leaving for London this morning. She’s leaving for Storybrooke. It’s not like this can go anywhere, but she still doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“Hey,” he says sleepily, grabbing her hand as she eases from the bed, “how about some breakfast.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually meeting my friends for breakfast,” Emma explains as she shrugs into a hoodie. She stands there regarding him awkwardly, tucking her hair behind her ears and crossing her arms across her chest. It isn’t a lie; she really is supposed to meet the others at nine before driving back to Storybrooke.

“Okay,” Killian replies easily as he stands and pulls his jeans back on. He then reaches for the hotel pad of paper and pen on the bedside table and jots something down on it. He rips off the top sheet and hands it to her.

“My contact information,” he explains with a lopsided grin. His gaze is both gentle and sincere as he continues in a softer voice, “I really like you, Emma. Since we didn’t do anything stupid, I’m hoping we can stay in touch. I mean, this wasn’t just a one-time thing. Not for me, at least.”

Emma gives him a tentative smile as she takes the piece of paper and crams it unceremoniously into the pocket of her hoodie. Killian’s gaze follows her movement, and the light in his eyes dims.

“Well,” he says, scratching behind his ear, “I’ll take my leave, then.”

He shrugs into his shirt without buttoning it up, then heads for the door with his jacket and shoes still in his hand. Emma lets her head fall backward in frustration at herself.

“Killian, wait,” Emma calls after him.

He turns in the doorway, and Emma just stands there, unsure of what exactly she can say. Finally, when he raises his eyebrows at her in confusion, she decides that if she’s never going to see him again, at least she can get one last kiss. So she grabs the gaping lapels of his unbuttoned shirt and hauls him in. He gasps in shock at first, dropping his jacket and shoes with a thud. But he quickly catches up, kissing her back thoroughly until both their lips are swollen. She thinks again that he’s the most fantastic kisser she’s ever met.

When they finally part, breathless, Killian rests his forehead against hers and thumbs the dimple in her chin. “I could fall in love with you, Emma Swan,” he whispers, his eyes still closed. He opens them before Emma can look away and she feels as if she’ll drown in the deep blue of those eyes. He traces her cheek with his fingertips, “But you won’t let me, will you? You’re going to throw away my contact information, aren’t you?”

Killian’s hand drops away and he sighs as Emma remains silent. He bends to retrieve his things, and with a whispered good-bye, walks away from her door.

“I could fall in love with you too, Killian,” she whispers to his retreating form.

But she doubts he heard her.

********************************************************

“So he spent the night in your room – the entire night – but you didn’t sleep with him?” Ruby hisses across the table, half-eaten bagel still in her hand.

“Well, technically, we slept,” Emma responds wryly.

“But no sex? Seriously?” Ruby tears a piece from her bagel violently, but pauses before putting the piece in her mouth as a revelation seems to hit her, “Wait, is he gay?”

“No, he is definitely not gay,” Emma states emphatically, feeling infantile when she blushes.

“So what did you do all night?” Ruby asks incredulously.

“We talked mostly,” Emma says with a shrug, “and . . . other things.”

“What other things?” Elsa asks.

“God, Elsa,” Emma says with a roll of her eyes, “do I have to spell it out for you? We made out.”

Ruby reaches for the collar of Emma’s button-down flannel shirt, exposing the black and blue mark on her neck. “A hickey!” Ruby exults, “He gave her a hickey!”

“Quiet down, Rubes,” Emma hisses as she re-adjusts her collar, “what is this, high school?”

“So what did you guys talk about?” Mary Margaret asks eagerly. Only she would be more interested in the conversation.

Emma shrugs again as she spreads jam on a piece of toast, “You know, just stuff. Our childhoods. Our kids. We talked a lot about our kids.”

“He has kids?” asks Ruby with a wrinkled nose.

“Yes, Ruby,” Emma snaps, “kids. Which is probably why we thought twice about having sex with someone we just met.”

Ruby’s eyes grow large, “How many does he have?”

Emma drops her knife with a clatter, frustrated at Ruby’s inquisition, “Just one. A five year old daughter. His wife died three and a half years ago of cancer.”

“Oh, Emma,” Mary Margaret breathes, “he sounds wonderful! And it’s so romantic that you stayed up all night just kissing and talking. What a gentleman! I hope you’ll stay in touch.”

Emma shakes her head, “He wanted to. Gave me his information. But I threw it away.”

Mary Margaret gasps in shock, and even Ruby thinks she’s crazy, but Elsa is the cold voice of reason.

“I think Emma is wise to break it off now. He’s a grieving widower with a child. Emma has a child of her own. Not to mention that long-distance relationships never work.”

“What was he doing in New York?” Mary Margaret asks, ignoring Elsa’s cold logic.

“A job interview,” Emma answers, “he didn’t really get into the details.”

“See,” Mary Margaret tells Elsa smugly.

“See what?” Elsa scoffs with a roll of her eyes. “It’s still long-distance. Emma needs to use her head.”

“She needs to follow her heart,” argues Mary Margaret.

“I was thinking of an organ a little farther south,” quips Ruby.

“And I would appreciate you all dropping the entire subject,” Emma huffs in frustration.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret whispers urgently, “there he is!”

Emma glances behind her, and sure enough, Killian is sitting at a table on the other side of the room. He’s perusing the menu, so he hasn’t noticed her yet. Emma quickly turns back around.

“Yep,” Ruby says with a nod, “just as hot as I remembered.”

Elsa narrows her eyes as she takes him in, “Actually, Emma, on second thought, maybe using your head in this situation isn’t the best course of action.”

Mary Margaret nudges Emma’s arm, “Go on, go talk to him. Give him your number!”

Emma stands quickly, hands shaking, and tosses some bills onto the table. “That should cover my order. I’ll see you all in Storybrooke.”

Emma then walks as quickly as she can for the hotel exit, ignoring her friends protests. She purposely keeps her head forward, not wanting to see the look of hurt in Killian’s eyes as she walks away. Or the look of indifference.

She isn’t sure which would be worse. Either way, it’s why she doesn’t turn around.

************************************************************

A week later, Emma is enjoying her favorite lunch of grilled cheese and onion rings at Granny’s. The buzz around town is that Mayor Mills finally hired a new harbor master, and whoever it is just rolled into town in a black extended cab truck with just a few suitcases and boxes in the back. The type of vehicle combined with the small amount of personal effects has every single woman in town speculating that it’s a bachelor. Emma just rolls her eyes at the gossip. The only thing she cares about is how the harbor master does his or her job, since it directly affects hers as sheriff.

Emma is licking the last drop of cheese from her pinkie finger when a little girl scrambles onto the stool next to her. She’s wearing a tunic shirt covered in daisies over a pair of yellow leggings. Disney princess shoes adorn her feet, the kind that light up when you walk. She has to kneel on the stool so she can reach the counter.

“One chocolate milkshake please,” the little girl tells Granny in an adorable British accent.

Emma and Granny both raise their eyes, looking around the diner for the child’s parents. Emma catches Granny’s eye, and the older woman nods.

“You’re a little young to be ordering all by yourself,” Emma says gently, tipping her head so she can look the child in the eye. “How old are you, kid?”

“Would you believe ten?”

Emma suppresses a chuckle and shakes her head.

“Eight?” the child sighs as Emma once again shakes her head. “Okay, I’m five.”

Emma nods. She wants to get information, and she knows the best way to do that is to play it cool, “So where are your parents?”

The little girl sighs, bites her lip, and then leans closer to Emma, “Okay, see, my dad said we would come here for lunch today. I want a milkshake, but Dad always says no. That I have to eat my lunch first. But I don’t want lunch. Can’t the milkshake be my lunch?”

"So you got here early so you could have the milkshake before he saw you.”

The little girl’s face brightens, and when she smiles dimples appear on her freckled cheeks. “Exactly!”

Emma leans forward, “The problem is, I’m a mom, so I’m not going to let you either.”

The little girl scowls and crosses her arms, “But you’re not my mum.”

“But you do need money, kid,” Granny tells the child gruffly.

The little girl swivels on her stool to face Granny, reaching smugly into the pocket of her tunic. She pulls out a ten dollar bill with a flourish and smacks it down onto the counter. “Will that cover it?”

Emma’s hand flies to her mouth as she suppresses her laughter. This kid is the most precocious, sassy little thing she’s ever seen. Once Emma has composed herself, she leans over the counter towards the child and speaks to her sternly. “You know what else I am besides a mom, kid? The sheriff of this town.” The little girl’s eyes grow large. “Where did you get that money?”

The child quirks one dark eyebrow and tilts her chin defiantly. “My allowance.”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret, kid. I have this gift – we’ll call it a super power – I can tell when people are lying to me. So I’ll ask you again. Where’d you get the money?”

The little girl sighs and lowers her head, “My dad’s wallet.”

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Haley.”

Emma feels as if the room is suddenly spinning. She blinks and looks the little girl over. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, British accent. It couldn’t be . . .

“Haley Elizabeth Jones!” another British voice calls out from the door of the diner. Emma’s jaw drops as Killian Jones himself rushes towards her. But he doesn’t even see Emma, too intent on his little girl who he hugs tightly to his chest. “Bloody hell, lass, you just took ten years off my life! Never, never, wander away like that!”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” Haley mumbles against Killian’s neck as she throws her little arms around him. Killian pulls away and looks her over, running a hand over his little girl’s hair and over her shoulder as if she might be hurt. Haley sheepishly takes the ten dollar bill and hands it to him. “I took the money from your wallet, too. I’m sorry. The sheriff lady caught me.”

Killian finally turns towards Emma then and blinks rapidly as if he’s seen a ghost. “Swan?”

“Killian,” Emma breathes, her hand fluttering to the pale mark still on her neck. The way they’re grinning at each other like idiots and blushing like fools, you would think they had actually had sex. “What are you – what are you doing here?”

“I got the job,” he explains, “the one I was telling you about.”

“You mean, you’re the new harbor master?” Killian nods and Emma shakes her head in confusion. “But your interview was in New York.”

“Mayor Mills had some business there anyway, and she thought travel would be easier for me from London. I thought the change would be good for Haley. Living in a small town and all.”

They just stand there staring at each other until Haley pipes up. “The sheriff says she’s a mum too, Daddy,” Haley takes Emma’s hands in hers and looks at them intently. “But she doesn’t have a wedding ring. Are you married, sheriff lady?”

“No, sweetie,” Emma says with a mirthful smile, “I’m not married.”

“That’s great! My daddy isn’t married either, and I need a mum!”

“Okaaaay,” Killian chuckles nervously as he scoops Haley up into his arms. He turns to Emma blushing furiously, “I’m gonna get this lass home. And then I’m gonna dig myself a really deep hole and crawl into it.”

He scratches behind his ear with his free hand as he turns towards the door, still carrying Haley. Mary Margaret’s voice is suddenly in Emma’s head, chirping on about fate and destiny, which propels Emma off her stool.

“Killian, wait.”

He turns towards her, that lopsided grin of his on his face.

“I know how it is unpacking. I was thinking Henry and I could stop by later with a couple of pizzas.”

“I appreciate that, Ms. Swan. That’s very hospitable of you.”

Okay, she’s going to have to be far more direct. “I was hoping Henry and I could eat with the two of you. We could consider it our second unconventional date.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Emma says, smiling back, “this thing we started; may as well see where it goes, right?”

Hope sparkles in Killian’s eyes. “Right. See you tonight, Swan.”

Behind the counter, Granny can’t hold her laughter back any longer when Haley pumps her little fist into the air and crows, “YES! I’m getting a mum!”

It turns out the little girl was right. Eight months later, Haley Jones has a mum and Henry Swan Jones has a dad. Turns out Mary Margaret was right all along: there’s nothing hopeless about being a romantic.