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justalittlebluetiefling · 4 years ago

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After tonight, how do you think Jester's feeling? Honestly, I wasn't so sure before, but after their conversation, I'm again very certain Fjord is the one she has feelings for

All right, anon. This is a fun question for me, because we talk about Fjord’s feelings a lot, but not Jester’s. I’m going to say a few things that I never thought I’d say in this ask. For example: Fjord’s feelings have been much more obvious in the last 60 episodes than Jester’s have been. If you had told me I would say that 100 episodes ago, I would have laughed so hard. But here we are.

TLDR? Jester’s in love with Fjord and has been for a while. I’ve been going off about this occasionally since her second playlist was released. But that is what really convinced me that she had moved from ‘crush’ into ‘love’. And episode 117 helped me be even more confident in saying that.

I also wanted to put some episode 117 receipts in here, but tags in Tumblr are tricky sometimes, so I just made a companion gifset instead. (If this link messes with the tags, I’ll take it out and put it in a reblog.)

Anyway. Let’s get a cut in here so I can get carried away with the why. 2436 words of carried away.

So, like I mentioned above, Fjord’s feelings have been much more obvious than Jester’s lately. For a while, I guess. Pardon me while I just quote Laura from Talks for second. And that’s mostly because Jester backed off when she thought her advances were unappreciated. It was all part of Jester realizing that smut novels aren’t what real relationships are like. A very integral part of her development and how she’s more than her crush(es).

The funny thing about all this... I think about this sometimes... is how Fjord didn’t actually not appreciate it. He’s just got low wisdom and didn’t realize that it meant that she like-likes him. He thought they were just goofing off. Because. Sorry, I’m briefly hopping into Fjord meta and then I’ll hop right back, I promise. But yeah. He thought they were just goofing off and I’m realizing as I type this paragraph that it never occurred to him, because “You know when someone makes you feel a way that you don't think you have any right to feel or you never thought that you might?”. Yeah. So, it wasn’t just his low wisdom. It just didn’t occur to him, because he didn’t think that he deserved to feel that way about anyone or have anyone feel that way about him. Okay. Hopping back now.

The other hilarious thing about this is that things between them weren’t awkward until she backed off and stopped overtly flirting. Which also correlates with the end of the pirate arc and how Beau, during that arc, pointed out to Fjord that Jester was jealous of Avantika.

But yeah. Jester backed off, which really threw their relationship into a whole new dynamic. I have a lot more complicated and layered feelings on the pirate arc that require a rewatch for me to properly articulate, but we know that Jester was scared during this time. She was a little scared that she didn’t really know Fjord (Re: Somebody Else being on her first playlist). But that was only temporary. That whole time made Jester start to question her feelings for Fjord. Which in turn made most of the fandom start to question them as well. But I do think that she eventually landed on “my friendship with him is more important to me than a potential relationship and if I keep acting like this, I’m going to lose him”. This is partially her realizing that life isn’t a romance novel, but I think it is also a direct result of her realizing how uncomfortable he was with the idea of being used as bait to distract Avantika. He did it, but he was not comfortable the whole time they talked about it.

But also, Fjord was her first real friend outside of Artagan. He trusted her right away with things he didn’t tell anyone else in their group for months. She knew he was hiding his accent. She knew what happened on the Tide’s Breath. He told her before he told anyone else about how he lost his powers. They promised to protect each other and help each other on their way to their individual goals and they’re still holding up that promise every day.

ANYWAY I’M GETTING DISTRACTED I’M SORRY.

Okay, where are her feelings now. Now. She’s in love with him. When she backed off from the flirting and started focusing on just being there as a friend, it deepened their relationship. I mean, to be fair, it was already pretty deep. I promise I’m not getting off track this time, but he really did tell her things he told no one else. Sometimes it takes him longer to get around to it, because of the group, but he always ends up telling Jester everything. And that opens the door for Jester to be open with him, too, in a way that she isn’t with anyone else.

I mean, okay. Gosh. How do I even word this?

Jester doesn’t actively seek anyone out to talk about her feelings. There are two times I can think of off the top of my head that she’s broached the subject first. One: when she was looking for Beau and ended up talking to Veth about how she felt about the kiss that wasn’t a kiss. And Two: the Jellyfish talk, when she asked Fjord if he ever gets sad. But Jester keeps everything buried pretty deeply. So, the fact that Fjord is constantly going out of his way to ask her if she’s okay and the fact that he pulled her aside to tell her that if she ever needs to talk, she can talk to him. That’s a huge deal. And I think she’s still scared to take him up on it, because on top of all these things is that layer of awkwardness. Fjord and Jester are just awkward with each other right now. And their feelings for each other are what makes it awkward.

If the awkwardness was one-sided and only coming from Fjord, I’d say that her feelings had gone away. But it’s not. It’s always two-sided. There’s so much tension in all of their conversations, because while they talk about everything else, there’s one thing they haven’t talked about. Or... I guess it’s a couple things at this point. But they’ve never talked about the kiss that wasn’t a kiss. That’s what I mean specifically at this point. It’s just never been brought up. Which is so weird, because the other times (I think it’s two? Maybe it’s one. I’m doubting myself.) that Fjord’s saved Jester’s life with a potion, she brought it up. She made a production about it. But the kiss was different, because she didn’t know if it was a real kiss. I think she’s come around to it not being a real kiss, but it’s got to still bug her.

But that’s planted this seed of awkwardness in all their solo interactions that hasn’t gone away. Jester’s been pushing her feelings for Fjord aside. Or trying to. But he keeps doing things that make her have hope again and it’s getting to a point that she can’t ignore that feeling. Like... He wanted her to be the one to go with him into the wreckage of the Tide’s Breath. The whole day after the blue dragon encounter, he was hovering. He wanted her to have a potion so that she could be safe and he said that he wasn’t being awkward he was disarming her. He dove off the side of a tree when she fell to save her. He tells her how much her help has meant to him in Kravaraad. He makes sure they go visit her dad. He runs after her to go rescue her mama and then he tells her that he’ll wear a stupid hat if she wants him to and that she looks lovely while implying that he’d like to look at her in that dress all the time. And then he asks her if she’d like to get dinner with him instead of go look for their friends. AND THEN he tells her that he likes it when she’s feeling his stomach looking for the orb. He was constantly checking in with her during Travlercon to make sure she was safe and comfortable. He launched himself into the air over an active volcano and begged her to let go and stay with them. AND TO MAKE MATTERS MORE CONFUSING FOR HER. He hugged her twice and then he willingly danced with her even though he didn’t know how AND THEN he gave her this tiny unicorn statue, because he knows how much she loves things like that. And now he’s given her the necklace that was meant to protect him, because he’s more concerned about her safety than his own. He told her that he’s having a hard time focusing on his future, because his past keeps getting in the way and he wants to deal with that before........ AND THEN HE SAYS he’s going to be thinking about how she helped him all night.

LIKE.

I got a little carried away again, sorry.

Here’s the deal.

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again. There has been nothing in canon to make me think that Jester’s feelings have gone away. Everything I can see implies that they’ve deepened. But she’s scared. She’s never really been in love before. It is absolutely terrifying (or it is for me) to admit when you’re in love. Especially when you don’t know if your feelings are reciprocated. Or if you think they’re unwanted. And she thought hers were unwanted. But she’s still been doing little things this whole time. She’s still shown signs of jealousy. She still thirsts over him, just not as openly as she did before. She gets super shy whenever they have one-on-ones and that makes her get awkward in the cutest way. Jester started to be careful with how she was around Fjord, but he’s been making it pretty clear that he doesn’t want her to be careful with him and I think she’s starting to realize that. It’s giving her hope that maybe her feelings are wanted.

Also, the fact that there’s no in-between for these two? They’re either incredibly emotional when they talk to each other or incredibly awkward or BOTH. They are radiating “in love with your best friend” energy. The difference is that Fjord isn’t afraid of ruining the friendship and Jester is. Or... well... yeah. Actually, that’s what I mean. I think Jester’s coming around to not being afraid. She’s got hope again that they might be something more. And I think that hope is starting to be fun for her again instead of scary.

OKAY I’m almost done. I want to very briefly talk about that gifset that I made, because I made receipts for a reason, damn it. Let’s talk ONLY about the conversation in 117.

Gif 1: This one is right after this exchange. Jester: I mean... it's worth a try. He's met all of us, so he could potentially scry on anyone, I guess, now. But maybe it'll keep me from being seen if I scry on him. I don't know how it all works. // Fjord: I guess we'd find out the next time we did it. // Jester: Yeah. Like, she looks down at the necklace and just smiles, because Fjord has literally just told her that his safety doesn’t matter as much as hers. Fjord went out of his way to do this thing for her and she just looks so touched.

Gifs 2 and 3: These are both just Jester laughing over Fjord talking about her face when she’s scrying. They’re goofing off and being silly. And gif 3 in particular is just... again. She’s having fun! With Fjord! And she likes that.

Gif 4: Jester just asked Fjord “how are you?” and he started up with that big, goofy grin. And she can’t even get through calling her question stupid without smiling. Like, she’s reacting to his smile. And it’s kind of funny, because I think she doesn’t understand why he’s smiling so much in that moment, but she still can’t help but smile back.

Gif 5: I feel like I need to close all of that before.... That’s such an interesting reaction and SO TELLING. Like, that small smile and then she kind of takes a breath and then she still can’t not smile over it. SHE KNOWS. She really hopes that it means what she wants it to mean. And she wants it to mean something.

Gif 6: She’s once again reacting to a Fjord smile. You can see the way the corners of her mouth keep trying to smile. Because Fjord is just touched and telling her that yeah, she should send a message to Kotho. And then it’s the things she’s doing with her hand there, too. She’s all nervous energy and can’t really hold still. There’s that hope again.

Gif 7: She’s SO HAPPY because she’s helping him. SO HAPPY. And again with the hands! So much nervous energy.

Gif 8: It's just a spell! It's easy to do. Again with the hands!!! I mean, okay. Speculation and projection. I’m aware. This is just something I do and I see it in Jester a lot. Where, she’s got to do something with her hands so they don’t do what she really wants them to. I mean, SERIOUSLY. And the way she smiles at him at the end of it. There’s a lot for her to process about this exchange and I think it’s starting to hit her. How much this means. What this might mean. And she’s happy. She’s excited.

Gif 9: I will think about that all night. Still the nervous energy. I won’t repeat that paragraph. But like. Fuck. Fjord told her that he was going to think about that all night. I kind of want to yell right now. In a good way. My heart just hurts in a good way over this moment. I can’t even speculate on her emotions here because that’s like... huge. There was so much tension here. Jester hasn’t had anyone say anything like this to her before. She doesn’t know how to react. And Fjord is also holding himself back. Uh, this is Fjord HOLDING HIMSELF BACK. What the fuck. I mean. Okay I have to move on. I have nothing productive to say here.

Gif 10: I guess I was wrong. This isn’t only about the conversation, but also about the moment later. Where he thinks she’s going to scry when she’s going to send and she realizes that he was going to do what she asked him to before. She is just so pleased that he intended to follow through. I choose to believe this is 100% what Jester’s face actually did in the moment. And I love this because it’s only awkward on Fjord’s end this time. Jester is just happy.

I’ve gotta end this thing, guys. Why are you even still listening to me ramble???

I guess what I ultimately want this whole answer to be: Jester’s in love with Fjord. Fjord makes her so happy. And she is starting to let herself hope that he’s in love with her, too. She can see the possibility of a future with him again and finally letting herself believe that it might happen. So, yeah. That’s where I think Jester’s feelings are.

Hope you enjoyed my mini breakdown over Jester and how much Fjord’s support has meant to her!

#fjorester #jester lavorre #critical role #the mighty nein #cr spoilers #dudes i'm sorry #this got so long #i just couldn't stop once i got started #and i kept getting distracted #anonymous #erin answers things

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lifeofroos · 3 years ago

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This Might Be Crazy: Final Chapter: Tea

Why hello there! It is me, Roos (Pronounced like you do ‘Rose’), the author of This Might Be Crazy. Make yourself at home, take a cup of tea, find a chair and relax.

Because it really is kind of crazy. In September 2020, the final instalment of the trials of Apollo-series came out. In this volume there was a little quip about Nico getting councelling from Dionysus. Fast forward to October and no-one had written a fic about Nico getting therapy yet. So, I decided to damn well do it myself. I had planned up to chapter three, but then I got so many comments with ideas for more that I had to continue. And I didn’t stop. I got 71 chapters and 6 bonus stories far, written over the course of nine and a half months.

As you read in the last paragraph, this monster literally wouldn’t have existed without the comments. Because of that, I feel like some thank-yous are way overdue:

Blueraven123 on AO3, for commenting on literally every single chapter. You’re a legend and thanks for sitting through the Solangelo stuff :).

Nikol_Nikiforova For commenting almost as often with an entire thesis!

Weaving_Stories for being there often in the beginning.

Aquaeclipse for being the first comment ever!

MacarenaH for writing the first comment that really touched me. I remember reading your comment during breakfast and having a slightly better day because of it. Yet, read: the first comment that really touched me. There were many more that did.

WeezlBot for being a legend who also thinks there should be more Ariadne fanfiction. You’re so, so right.

ChildOfApollo*-*: No, I didn’t stop. I still thought about your comment sometimes, when I forgot the chapter title again :).

Catharina2003 for being Dutch which is the Only Nationality Ever

Nico for making me do a double take every time I see your name in the comments.

And Something_Someday, warmestbloggerever, Fangirlx4, cutiewithahat, Spacey_cats, Himekitsune, Mickeyd, Wierdkid20, TheStarsAndSky, Sireniral, RisaKitten, DrimysAusterus, Miyanoai, Atos, Something_1987, badbonch420, Luna Tris Katniss Di Angelo, Gayboiohio, gummy bears, CreatorOrInsanity, jschoenh, Mochamochi7, reynaramen, 1az0rcat, Fanvergent_P, Mad_Shady_People, Julia, Bisexualmistake123 and Regal_Bloom476 for leaving their thoughts on AO3 a few times. Thank you very much :). (And I hope I haven’t missed anyone... If I did, feel free to scold me).

Despry2nd, for being the FanFiction.net OG

Rickandrowling28, for leaving long, longg comments that I loved to see.

Evan Emrys because she said I was her favorite :)

MKDemiGodzilla-Warrior for sticking through from the beginning until the end.

NaoSa, AyaTheDoggo, addalittlesmoke and McShizzleSupreme778 for commenting on FanFiction.net ever so often.

@bfire92 for reading and helping with the whole thing one time :). Keep up the good work yourself!

And especially, everyone who came to Tumblr to read my work. I’ve got a few hunches as to who read it often ( @daenerys1234 , @punk-drummer-chic @wndrngwldflwrs @neritess ?) but I am sure there were readers who I didn’t see. Once again, feel free to scold me :).

And then there is everyone else who read the work on FanFiction.net or AO3 or in the Tumblr tags. Who liked and reblogged my stuff. Who send me ideas and random anon messages. Who left kudos. Who read it without making themselves known. Thank you so much.

I know there are things that could have been done better. Sometimes I feel like Nico healed to quickly, or that I was too slopy with my words, or that my English wasn’t good enough. Don’t get me started on Dionysus’ characterisation, and oh, I keep thinking I should have written an ending where Nico has another husband and Will is only a good friend... But as Dionysus said a few times: There is no use in worrying about what happened. It is what it is, and it is pretty okay.

My biggest failure is that I never thought of a good title. This Might Be Crazy was a stand-in that never changed. I got used to it at some point.

I am going to miss the characters. Dionysus, Nico, Will, Hades, Mary, everyone I have written about in this story. When you write something for a long time, it becomes a part of you, and it might hurt to let go.

Why did I stop, then? Because I felt like I couldn’t write with as much passion as I wanted to. It would be a shame to write a work without the love it deserves. When I began, I promised myself I would end it neatly. I hope you think I delivered on my promise.

If you need something to fill the void in your life, you should read This is Home by BlackPebbleToad (AO3 and FanFiction.net). It’s about Nico getting therapy, but it is about Leo, too. They live at the Waystation, where they learn to heal. I love it and I’d say that, in a way, it’s similair to my own work.

And of course, I am not quiting writing as a whole! There will be lots of other shorts, for a multitude of fandoms. Feel free to hop by and look at one of those sometimes.

Have you finished your tea? Then I won’t keep you here for any longer. Go on, find fanfics to enjoy, go outside, find a job and the love of your life. I just hope a little bit of This Might Be Crazy stays with you through all that. Please think of it sometimes, Okay?

- Roos (LifeOfRose)

#this might be crazy #because it really is

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years ago

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Unfolding

New Story! FFN and AO3

Lily and James make a life for themselves and their family after the war is won, and Hogwarts is going to end up calling them right back home. A little TheyLiveAU for you to hide from cannon on this Halloween, requested by the wonderful @thisismegz, thank you darling! Jily. TheyLiveAU. One-shot. Fluff. Family. Happy ending.

One last Jilytober story! @thisismegz sent me a Tumblr post that was too cute not to write! You can see @suspiciousnargles original post here. Enjoy a happy they live au where the Potter family gets the happy ending we all wish they did. =)

Unfolding

"This feels weird," Lily looked at James as they unpacked another box.

"Well, it is sort of strange to be in the Potion Master's private stores and not be worried about being caught.

"I can't believe Slughorn's retiring." Lily sighed and put another of her books up on the shelf.

"I can," James gave a short bark of a laugh. "The war took its toll on all of us. His nerves aren't what they used to be. At his age, I wouldn't want to deal with these hellions either after all that."

"Just you wait," Lily grinned over at him, "As soon as the Transfiguration position opens up, I'm putting in your name."

"I'd be a lousy professor, Lils, and McGonagall won't ever retire," James shook his head before snagging Harry around the middle and turning him away from the box of glass vials.

"That's exactly what I said when I told you they'd offered me this position," Lily smirked at him.

"Yes, and the difference is that I'm right," James smirked at her from the box of dried potion ingredients he was unpacking. "Besides, if I taught here too, what would we do with the house?"

"We'd live in it." Lily laughed. "We've talked about this; I'm coming home every night."

"Yes, with a stack of papers that need grading that's so high it won't fit in the chimney when you floo out." James' smirk was wide across his face and his eyes were full of mischief.

Lily turned to Harry, "You see how mean your daddy is to your poor mummy?"

Harry laughed and toddled over to her side, arms high to be picked up. Lily reached down and put him on her hip before kissing his cheek.

"I'm going to miss being home with you all day, though."

"Don't you worry about that," James came over and wrapped her and Harry in his arms. "We'll be underfoot now and again."

Lily found out as the school year progressed that James and her had very different definitions of the term "now and again."

It felt like every spare moment, James and Harry would come tumbling out of the floo in her office and Harry would run on little legs to hop up into her lap.

"Mummy!" Harry came barreling at her, cookie tin in hand. "We bing you cookies!"

"You brought me cookies?"

"Yes! Because it's Haoween! And Haoween needs treats!" He pushed the tin into her stomach as he tried to climb onto her lap.

"And because it's just about time for you to set all this work aside and enjoy yourself." James came and sat on her desk.

Lily looked at the still five-inch-tall stack of papers on her desk.

"Come on, you know you'll finish these up with no problem tomorrow, and I happen to know that you are all set on your lesson plans for the next year."

Lily looked down at sweet Harry in her lap as he tried to open up the cookie tin, and then she looked up at James. "Alright, but tomorrow I have to finish these."

"Bring them with you," James jumped up and pulled Harry from her lap, still trying to get his little fingers to open the cookie tin. "You're not coming back to work until Monday."

"You think so?" She asked, even as she waved the papers into her bag.

James came up and wrapped his free arm firmly around her waist and brought his mouth to whisper in her ear.

"I think I can make it worth your while to let work stay at the office for most of the weekend."

"Daddy, what are you saying to Mummy?" Harry stuck his head between them.

"Don't you worry your little ears over it, mate." James chuckled.

"Let's go, you two crazies," Lily laughed and summoned her bag. "I'm ready for some Halloween treats."

"Cookies!" Harry cheered and hosted the now open run over his head.

It was a few weeks later that Lily sent James a Patronus to come to her office just as soon as he could drop Harry with Sirius and Marlene. He was there within five minutes.

"What's wrong?" James came out of the floo so fast that he had to run to catch himself before falling flat on his face.

Lily bit her lip and tried to keep her nerves at bay.

"James, you remember Halloween?"

James' look of concern morphed into confusion.

"Sure, we had a good time."

"Did you remember to cast the spell, before we...?"

James frowned, "I don't know, but you're on the potion, so I guess I haven't been as concerned about it."

"I apparently have not been remembering to take it like I'm supposed to…" Lily trailed off.

James' face went from confused to a look of pure joy and excitement.

"Lily, Lily are you saying?"

She swallowed hard and nodded.

James cheered as he rushed to take her in his arms and spin her around in circles as he kissed her.

"What are we going to do?" Lily struggled with the emotions warring within her.

"What are you talking about?" James kissed her again. "We're going to have another baby!"

"What about this job?"

"Lils, it's going to be fine. Women have careers and children, isn't that what you tell me a bunch of the fuss I see on the Muggle telly is about? You're going to be fine, and we'll work through whatever you need. I'll even come be your substitute when you need it."

Lily laughed as the excitement finally started to win out over her anxieties.

"We're having another baby!"

"Merlin, Lily! We're having another baby!" James spun her again and kissed her, a much more serious kiss than the sloppy excited one had been when she first told him.

"James…"

"You don't have class for another hour." He murmured against her. "It'll be just like when we were Head Boy and Head Girl."

Lily smirked against him. "I hope not, you're much better at it now than you were then."

James laughed and swept her up in his arms.

"I'll get you for that."

While James had been certain they'd be able to work through it all, Lily found being pregnant and being a professor to be a fair side more frustrating than even she had anticipated. She had a fair amount of potion brewing going on to combat the morning sickness and the drowsiness and the forgetfulness. When the end of the year finally rolled around Lily thought she might faint from the relief.

"I can't believe I still have nearly two more months of this." Lily fell back into a chair as James translocated the things she wanted back home over the summer with her.

"Harry and I will do our best to keep you pampered. Besides, I think it being a girl is draining you more than when you were carrying Harry."

"All I know is that the end of July cannot get here fast enough." Lily smiled as James came over to kiss her.

"Let's get you home. There's a bed with your name on it."

"That sounds heavenly."

The last eight weeks of her pregnancy with Grace were trying, but holding her little girl in her arms was the kind of experience that left Lily speechless and on the verge of tears. The tears came when Marlene brought Harry into the room and he sat next to her on the bed, stroking his baby sister's sparse hair.

The tears came again when it was time to leave Harry and Grace at the start of the next term. Even with having left for a couple of hours here and there for faculty meetings and for the feast the night before, Lily still felt her eyes watering as she said goodbye to go teach the first day of term.

"Lils," James set little Grace down in her bassinet.

"I'm fine," Lily angrily swiped at her eyes. "I'm fine."

James gave her one of his critical stares before nodding. "Alright, we'll see you tonight. Have a good first day of term."

Lily pulled herself erect and fixed a smile on her face. "Thank you, love."

The day wore on and even as Lily lost herself in teaching, her mind kept wandering towards how her baby was doing. She'd been spoiled with Harry, forced to spend every moment with him. Not that she viewed it as some great thing at the time, she was more worried about all of them staying alive than the novelty of being with Harry all day every day. But now she could feel the difference, and while she didn't want to stop teaching, she definitely felt her body reacting to not being with her baby.

She'd just sat down to eat lunch in her office when her fireplace burned green and out toppled Harry, followed more cautiously by James holding baby Grace close to his chest.

"Mummy!" Harry came running up to her lap. "We've brought lunch so you won't be lonely because eating by yourself is lonely. Daddy says so."

Lily nearly cried all over again, but getting to hold Grace in her arms and Harry on her lap while she chatted with James about how her morning had been was exactly what she needed.

"Same time tomorrow then?" James asked as she handed Grace back over.

"Do you have time for that? I know you and Sirius are trying to get all those newfangled inventions off the ground."

James laughed and kissed her. "Sirius is not going to complain about being sent home to Marlene at lunch."

"Fair point."

It was those family lunch dates that really made a name for Lily among the student body. A student came to her office during lunch to ask a question about an assignment to find the Potter's all gathered around Lily's desk.

"Oh, er, sorry Professor, I didn't mean to interrupt…"

"Nonsense," James picked up Grace from Lily's arms. "Come and ask away, Professor Potter always has time to help a student."

Lily smiled warmly at the little first year. "What can I do for you?"

Tentatively they asked their question and after they understood the answer, Harry pulled on their school robe.

"Are you going to eat lunch with us too?"

The student looked up at Lily with wide eyes and Lily laughed.

"You're welcome to a sandwich if you'd like one."

"Here," James pulled out his wand and transfigured a napkin into a chair.

The student gawked, "That was wicked, sir!"

James chuckled and looked at Lily, "Sir, has a nice ring to it, don't you agree?"

From then on Lily found that at least once a week a student would manage to come have lunch with her family. To begin with, it was only first-years who needed that feeling of family being close, but by the time prep for exams was beginning to push hard, older students would come by just to ask for the chance to sit and laugh and play with Harry and Grace.

"Are you coming to the final match, Professor?" Gryffindor's Quidditch captain asked about a week before the match.

"I hadn't thought about it." She snagged Grace around the middle before the little girl could pull James' wand from the table.

"Can we go, Mummy?" Harry jumped up to stand on his chair. Lily and James both went to steady him.

"It could be fun," James smiled at her. "We haven't been to a match since I was the one leading the team."

"You were a Quidditch captain?"

James nodded, "Gryffindor took the cup the year I captained the team."

"Would you look at my plays? I bet between you and me Gryffindor can have the cup in the bag!"

Lily laughed as the mischief bloomed in James' eyes. She turned to Harry as she helped him to sit.

"I think we're going to the Quidditch match."

"Wahoo!" Harry cried out, Grace mimicking her brother's excitement.

Lily had worked very hard not to show any favoritism among the students, especially based on their houses. But James didn't feel that way at all. Lily had decided to go in early and get a few more exams graded before the match and James was going to bring the kids just a few minutes before everything started so they could walk to the pitch. When he stepped from the grate, both kids in his arms, Harry's face was painted red and gold, as was James', and all of them had shirts on with lions' heads in the act of roaring.

"James," Lily groaned.

"It's all in good fun, Lils," James grinned. "Besides, how cute does Harry look in all of Gryffindor's splendor?"

Lily couldn't help but smile as Harry roared.

"I'm a Gryffindor!"

"Did you take a picture?" She laughed.

"Of course," James set Harry down and took his hand. "Come on, mate, let's go watch Gryffindor win!"

Harry roared again in response and tried to walk on all fours out of her office to the pitch. James handed Grace over to Lily and swung Harry up onto his shoulders.

Lily didn't hear the end of it from the Gryffindor students for the rest of the term. No one questioned who the Potter's were siding with. Lily managed to keep her cheering polite and for both teams for most of the match, but she did show her house loyalty rather loudly when Gryffindor won.

Her family became something of a fixture in her teaching after that. James would often bring the kids to just be in the castle and visit McGonagall or show them the grounds and the giant squid. They set up the sleeping quarters so that they could have weekend sleepovers at the castle as a special treat for Harry and Grace. Students who were regulars for lunch would ask how the kids were doing when they came in for class. Harry adored the attention in the halls from students giving him high-fives or hugs. Hogwarts came to know that Professor Potter, Mr. Potter, and their kids were somewhat of a package deal.

Which meant they probably should have seen the next thing coming, but Lily was so content with their life, that she honestly didn't.

They were having lunch around her desk when McGonagall knocked and stepped into the room.

"Minnie!" James smiled. "Pull up a chair and have some lunch with us!"

"Mimi!" Grace toddled over to her and hugged her legs.

McGonagall smirked at James, "I hope you realize that these sweet babies of yours are the only reason I don't turn you into a frog for calling me that."

"Why would you turn Daddy into a frog, Minnie?" Harry frowned and looked up from his soup.

"Oh, I won't turn your daddy into a frog, my dear. I need him to do something important." McGonagall sat down and pulled Grace into her lap.

"And what's that, dearest Minnie?" James gave her one of his winning smiles and Lily laughed at all the memories it pulled forward.

"Replace me."

James nearly choked on the butter of bread he'd just taken.

"Replace you?" Lily stared. "What on Earth do you mean?"

"Dumbledore has decided to retire and go traveling, see the world, that sort of thing. And the governors have named me the new Headmistress. Therefore, I get to select the new transfiguration professor. My choice is James."

The Potter's sat speechless and wide-eyed for several seconds before McGonagall looked down at Grace and chuckled.

"I think I may have broken them."

Grace giggled and snuggled close into McGonagall's chest. That was about when Lily regained control of her brain.

"Would you mind giving us some time to discuss this, Headmistress? I'm sure you understand it's a lot for us to work out."

"Of course," McGonagall kissed the top of Grace's head before handing her over to Lily. "I'll need a response in two weeks though. I'd like for the new teacher to be introduced at the end of year feast and if you decide this isn't right for your family, I'll want the extra time to find the next best thing."

"Yes, we'll not keep waiting any longer than necessary." Lily smiled as James nodded absently. McGonagall smiled at them and slipped back into the classroom and out to the corridor.

"Well?" Lily looked at James.

"Lily," James' hand shot to his hair. "How would we handle the kids? And my work with Sirius?"

"You can tell her it won't work." Lily gently pulled his hand from his hair. "You don't have to do this."

James was silent for a long moment.

"But what if I want to?"

"Then we make it work." Lily squeezed his hand. "We can figure it out."

James sighed and looked up at the clock on her wall. "You have a class in five minutes. Let me talk this through with Sirius and then we can talk it out tonight."

Lily leant in and kissed him.

"Don't worry, there are no wrong decisions here. It's just what we think is best for you and our family."

They didn't get it figured out that night, or the next, but after a week of hashing through it all and determining the best options for all the scenarios, the little Potter family met McGonagall in her office, and James gave no warm-up to their conversation.

"So, when do I get to take over?"

McGonagall almost cried out in excitement before jumping up from her chair to embrace them.

It wasn't easy, change rarely is, but their little family adapted to their new life. Old friends from the Order pitched in to help with the kids. Molly Weasley really loved having Harry and Grace around to play with her youngest two. And the Professors Potter became a new sort of institution at the castle. If you couldn't track down the Potions Master you checked the Transfiguration classroom. And if you couldn't find the Transfiguration Professor, he was likely to be in the dungeons. They only showed their colors while cheering Gryffindor's Quidditch team, but even James couldn't stop himself from pulling the Slytherin captain aside after a poor match and explaining where their team could improve and how to train for it. Hogwarts and the Potter's were something of a package deal.

And when Harry and Grace were old enough to come to Hogwarts, it already felt like home, because in a very real sense, it was.

#jily #theyliveau #happy ending #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #jily parenting #jilytober #jilytober 2020 #james x lily #james potter x lily evans #james potter #lily evans #fluff #romance #family #from a prompt #little harry #harry potter fanfiction

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imaginethatneathuh · 4 years ago

Text

Winter is Beautiful: Technical Boy - American Gods

I had to cut this in half because Tumblr wouldn't let me post it all as one.

Partially inspired by one of @random-imagines-blog Technical Boy posts.

Done for @atomicdetectivehideout‘s December challenge (yes, I know I’m a day late, shut up).

I’m not good at romance.

Fluff.

Word count: 4.4K+

Second Part

You smiled at the trees, barren and lifeless, all except the pines.

The pines were strong and sturdy. That beautiful pine green, even in the dead of winter. A faint hint of brown spiked the otherwise green needles. A sign of Death and Disease knocking on the trees' door.

The faint sound of Winter-ready birds hung in the air. Their song, even compared to the sunset, was something to behold. The rustle of the trees as the birds flew between the branches reminded you of days long past.

You inhaled the cold, country, Winter air. As you breathed out, a puff of smoke spread out. The warmth of your breath soon dissipated as the frozen air overtook it. dissipating. You smiled, satisfied.

The cool, pale yellows, blues, and pinks of the sunset waltzed across the sky. Not even the chilly air, which was sure to get worse, could dissuade you from spending time that night under the stars, especially on a night like tonight.

While the alignment of Jupiter and Saturn was not the main focus, it certainly helped to convince Technical Boy to come along. It was a "Once every 800 years" kind of event. Something that he would never get the chance to see again.

It had taken forever to get the tech god to agree. You hadn't expected anything less. He was him, but you were also you. Both equally stubborn in your own ways.

Speaking of the devil, the young god stood beside you, wrapped in far too many layers.

A beanie donned his head, along with a scarf, gloves, a Winter coat with two sweaters underneath (both of which you hadn’t the chance to see), a pair of jeans, snow pants, and winter boots.

It was beyond excessive in your eyes.

"You don't need all of those, T," you said. "You'll be fine."

He scoffed. Both of his hands wrapped around his upper arms, rubbing them.

"Like Hell," he mumbled teeth chattering.

How he could still be cold with all those layers was a mystery to you.

A blanket hung over your shoulder as you looked back at him.

"Let's just go."

"Home?" He asked, perking up a little.

"No, to the meadow."

Technical Boy groaned as he walked after you stiffly, following as closely behind as he could. The thick snow pants on top of jeans were hard to walk with.

Sure, the snow was a little high, but no higher than it usually was here around the Solstice.

A part of you wanted to grab his hand, just to hold it, but you thought better of it.

It wouldn’t be like it was the first time you’d held hands. The two of you had done it a thousand times. Okay, maybe that’s an over-exaggeration, but the point still remains; it wasn’t a big deal. Well, it shouldn’t be a big deal.

So, why not just take his hand?

Maybe because in the last few months, how you felt about him changed. When he smiled at you; or even just looked in your direction, it was like the world stopped moving. Your heart raced when he touched you. At times, you thought he could hear your heart pounding in your chest, especially when the two of you would lie together and cuddle. When he’d ‘Hmm?’ when you said something to him, your heart would turn to goop. When he joked with you, you laughed harder than usual. Even just being around him made you feel this warmth deep inside. This feeling of being known without thinking he’d shame you for anything. It was slightly addicting but in a good way.

And as much as there had been a change in you, maybe there had been a slight change in him, too. Sometimes, when you stayed over at his place, he’d offer you his clothes if you wanted to take a shower. That way you wouldn’t have to wear dirty clothes after getting clean. That’s the excuse he always used anyway. There were times when he stayed at your place where he’d get all nervous about sleeping in the same bed together, even though you’d done it before, and he hadn’t had a problem then. He showed you affection and kindness and rarely said anything bad or rude about/to your family. He was kinder and sweeter now, less of a cat, more of a dog.

You also noticed things about him that you hadn’t before. Like the way he’d look at you with that big, goofy, adorable smile and how his eyes would shine brighter than the sun, the moon, and all of the stars when he saw you. Or how any time he hugged you, he would nuzzle into your neck and hang on for a little longer than most people. There were the times when Technical Boy would get hyper-focused on something and zone out. He looked adorable every time.

But there were also things you think you looked too much into. Like the little surprise visits and gifts he gave felt like more than what a friend would do. Before, you’d never noticed how much he’d look at you or how much more playful he was around you than most people. Of course, you’d never let yourself hope for more. He was a god, after all.

•

The two of you trudged through the snow as the sun set ahead of you. The pale colours of the evening gave way to the rich, dark blue of the night. Stars twinkling like diamonds suspended high in the sky.

For a moment, you thought you'd have to start pulling Technical Boy along. Thankfully, he kept up, even with all the layers.

"I was not built for the cold, Y/N,” he said.

You forged ahead. Trying (and failing) to suppress a smile, you looked behind you before turning back front.

"You're not used to the cold, that's all."

He whimpered, dashing to get back to your side. It was warmer than when he was by himself.

"How 'bout we just go back, yeah? Go back to the cabin? Where it's warm."

Stopping in the snow, letting it soak into your jeans, you faced him.

"If it bothers you that much, you can go back, but I'm not."

You didn't want him to go. He was the reason you wanted to come out here tonight in the first place. It wouldn't be right without him. Besides, two bodies are warmer than one.

Technical Boy looked between the warmth of the cabin that he so badly craved and you, the reason he was willingly out here, freezing his arse off.

Eventually, he chose to follow you, stepping to your side.

The snow flew up with every step. Some of it was packed beneath his boots, other bits stuck on them, but at least he wasn’t being drenched by it.

•

As you got to a fenced-in field, a smile spread across your face.

It was almost entirely dark now. The last vestiges of light from the sun were blinking out, disappearing behind the horizon. The stars and the half-moon became your only guide.

You giggled and looked behind you, still smiling widely.

"Come on," you said, offering your hand to Technical Boy.

He stayed where he was, a worried look on his face.

Your hand fell as you sighed.

"Really, T?"

The god shuffled backwards.

The low, barbed-wire fencing stood between you and your favourite place in the world. Besides maybe with Technical Boy.

Near an old, what you assumed to be, power box lay a dip in the fencing. The fencing had been bent and broken years ago, long before you ever came to the meadow.

Using one of the old, wooden posts the wire was wrapped around, you hopped over.

Breathing deeply, you face away from the dirt road and to the pure, untouched snow of the pasture. Your eyes closed as the wind whipped by.

Technical Boy whined behind you, reminding you of a puppy who wanted attention.

You turned to face him, a renewed light inside you.

"Come on, don't be a wuss," you said. "It's just a fence."

He looked at the fencing, then at you, bouncing side to side.

"Fine, be a wuss, but I'm going to enjoy the pasture."

You twisted back to the snowy, rolling hills far away.

"I'm not a wuss," he said.

You looked over your shoulder with a smirk and said, "Prove it then."

Technical Boy, scowling, glared at the fencing and stepped forward.

“Do we really have to do this? I mean, it’s fucking freezing out here. Not to mention, it’s really stupid. There are apps made for stargazing for crying out loud! We can stargaze where it’s warm, believe it or not,” he complained.

While his point about the apps was fair, the app could never capture the beauty of watching the stars with the naked eye.

"T," you tease in a singsong voice.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm coming." Technical Boy gripped the post you did when you hopped over. "Don't rush me."

"The sun has already set. We don't have time for this."

That wasn’t true. The stars would be there for hours to come, but you had to get him moving somehow.

With another small whine and some mental encouragement, the god hopped over. Now on the same side as you, he backed away from the fence, facing it.

He turned to you lethargically like he was bored, and glared at you.

“Great, I’m over here. Now what?”

Unable to resist, you snickered.

“What?”

You shrugged.

“Nothing, you just sound really fucking bored. I can’t combine that with the shivering you. It just doesn’t work in my head.”

He rolled his eyes and walked toward you.

“Whatever,” he said before rubbing his hands together and breathing into them.

You wiped your freezing nose with your equally cold hand, sniffing.

Eyebrows furrowed, Technical Boy took off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to your cheek.

You tried to bat it away, but he ignored it.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you're freezing," he worries. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You pushed him away slightly, his hands drifting to your upper arms.

"It's nothing I haven't handled before."

"Come here," he said.

He shed his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. Taking his scarf off, he coiled it around your neck, tucking it over your nose sweetly. You giggled as he moved his hands to grasp yours.

"You feel like ice," he comments.

You shook your head, a smile plastered on your face.

"I'm fine, T. Let's just enjoy the night."

"What if you get sick!"

You sighed.

"I'm not going to get sick."

"That's what they all say," he said, pulling you close. "But then starts the sniffling and the coughing and sneezing. Not to mention the fever!"

You laughed at him. Pushing away, you took off and wrapped the scarf back around Technical Boy's neck. You glanced down to hide your giggles, but you’re greeted by a peculiar sight.

Covering your mouth, you stared at his chest.

He looked down at his sweater.

"What?"

"I can't believe you're wearing that."

He pulled it down, pouting.

"Your mother gave it to me. Plus, it's also almost Christmas. I thought it was festive."

You burst out laughing.

The ugly Rudolph the Reindeer sweater looked so stupid on him, you just couldn't help it.

"Y/N, don't be mean. I'm sure it took her forever to find one this ugly."

You kept laughing and pulled him into a hug, burying your head into his neck.

"I love you, you dumbass," you said, pushing away.

He smiled at you.

"I love you, too."

It may have been from the cold and wind, but you could have sworn there was a hint of pink on his cheeks.

You handed him back his coat.

"No, Y/N, you need it."

Instead of taking no for an answer, you tossed it onto his face.

As it fell off, Technical Boy caught it and gave you a look. The "done with your bullshit" look he often gave.

You just smiled over your shoulder and laid down the blanket over the snow.

•

The two of you stared up at the sky. For the first time since you managed to pull Technical Boy out here, it was quiet. Save for the wind rustling the branches and the coyotes howling far off in the distance. Some might be afraid of them, but not you. They were comforting. Familiar really.

Taking a deep breath, you could smell the clean snow. It was like water but cooler. As you'd expect from ice.

So enraptured by the peace, you hadn't noticed Tech staring at you with one of those rare, soft smiles on his face.

"Why'd you bring me out here," he asked.

Breaking from the serenity, you turned to look at him. His face fairer than usual because of the light reflecting off the snow from the half-moon.

"I wanted to stargaze with you."

Technical Boy nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. Keyword is "seemingly".

"Okay," he said, turning back to the sky, a pink hint to his cold cheeks. "But you never bring anyone out here. Not home, not to the cabin, and definitely not here. You only ever talk about this place like it’s a far-off memory. You don't even take the animals out here."

You sighed.

The stars glittered with the glowing moon.

"It's my quiet place," you said. "Where I go when I'm not really there. When all else fails, I can always come here." Looking at the sky, you smiled. "It's the most important place in the world to me. I guess, I just wanted to share that with you." You looked down and rubbed your arm.

Technical Boy let a smile spread across his face.

Cupping your cheek, he guided you to face him.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said. "I mean it."

You smiled back.

Technical Boy wrapped an arm around you and laid his head on your shoulder.

You watched the stars, Jupiter and Saturn's alignment shining amongst them.

#american gods december challenge #technical boy #american gods #fanfiction #bruce langley #american gods fanfiction #god of technology #god of the internet #new gods #tech boy #romantic #technical boy x reader

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elizabeethan · 4 years ago

Text

Now Belongs To You

The final installment of It’s About Bloody Time

Find the rest of the series on Ao3 or Tumblr

Summary: Emma liked being pregnant in the winter. She often finds herself boiling, so she welcomed the cold Maine air to cool her down. Now that it’s late-April and she’s almost 35-weeks pregnant, though, she’s a bit miserable.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who has given this monster a chance! I so didn’t anticipate a quick smutty one shot to grow into a 52k word beast. Keep an eye out for additions; I have about 4 or 5 extras that I want to include in this universe and I’m not opposed to prompts

Emma liked being pregnant in the winter. She often finds herself boiling, so she welcomed the cold Maine air to cool her down. Now that it’s late-April and she’s almost 35-weeks pregnant, though, she’s a bit miserable.

April in Maine shouldn’t be this hot. In fact, it isn’t very hot. There was still snow on the ground a week ago. Killian still wears his long leather pants, button downs, and leather jackets every day and never complains of the heat. Her mother is still wearing sweaters and thick tights. She hasn’t seen her dad in short sleeves since last August. But here Emma lies in their living room—no, in Killian’s living room—in a black maternity cami and workout shorts with a tower fan pointed directly at her.

She isn’t sure how she’ll survive the next 5 weeks if the temperature keeps rising. Someone should do something about that.

She told Killian that she would finally pick out an accent color for the baby’s room today while he was out with David picking up the crib, but she can’t seem to get herself off the couch. She barely sleeps more than two hours at a time each night, her little bambino taking any and every opportunity to practice their gymnastics routine on her bladder, ribs, and lungs, so she takes any chance she can to nap. Killian keeps referring to his many apps to try and give her advice on how to combat her insomnia, but she thinks if she hears, “maybe some warm milk, darling,” one more time, she’ll snap, and her baby will be tragically born without a father.

Once she’s fully out of her sleep-induced brain fog, she hoists herself into a seated position, somehow, and reaches towards the coffee table where Killian left the paint swatches for her to peel over. It’s difficult to decide on a color when they still don’t know what they're having. The little yellow envelop still sits on the kitchen table, although it’s been shoved to the side in favor of mail and ultrasound pictures. For a while, she was tempted to open it up and find out who their little baby is, but Killian finally whispered into her neck one night that he thinks he wants to be surprised. The concept is nice, and far be it for her to ruin this for him, so she’s been going along with it.

Although, if she were to somehow find out, she wouldn’t be upset. It would probably make this whole nursery decoration thing a lot easier.

They decided together that they wanted the nursery to be nautical-themed. She figured it would be a cute and relatively gender-neutral way to decorate their baby’s first bedroom, and when she suggested it to Killian, his blue eyes lit up brighter than she’s ever seen them. The walls are still white, but she can’t decide if she wants to paint the wall with the window sky blue or a warm shade of gray.

“Hello, my darling,” her doting baby daddy greets gleefully as he enters through the front door, holding it open for David, who’s holding up a large and seemingly heavy box. Once the door is propped, he pulls the box while David pushes the other end, scraping it loudly against the textured tile floor until it’s inside.

“Hi.” The grin he wears is adorable as he rounds the coffee table and bends down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

“Good nap?”

She shrugs, laughing internally at the fact that he just knew she was napping despite the fact that she was doing dishes when he left. She watches him make his way back over to the box and quietly count to three before he and David hoist it and start walking towards the baby’s room. “This thing kept whacking me,” she says, gesturing towards her enlarged belly, “so I wasn’t able to sleep for long.” She finally stands from the couch and follows them into the nursery.

“Blasted child,” he grunts out, finally dropping the box to the floor with a slightly-too-loud crash as Emma winces.

“I think I want gray,” she tells him, hugging her dad with one arm once he’s catches his breath and stands up. “On the wall.”

“That’s a good idea,” David says in agreement. “Where are your scissors?”

“Next to the stove. It’s a nice gender-neutral color, don’t you think? I thought blue would be good but what if it’s a girl?”

“I believe that in this realm, girls can also like the color blue, but gray is a lovely choice as well, Swan. We can run out for the paint and start it tonight while your father’s still here.”

She smiles at him, striding over as best she can with her crampy calves protesting, and wraps her arms around the back of his neck. “Sounds like a good plan.”

He hums and smiles down at her, swooping in to press a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips. “I hope you at least got a bit of sleep. Little pineapple needs you well rested.”

She laughs lightly at his remark. Each week, he checks his pregnancy apps to see how big the baby is, and he then spends the week referring to it by whatever comparison he likes best. This week, it’s a pineapple. Killian had never tried one before, so they picked up a can during their weekly grocery haul, and he loved it. She can’t wait until they're able to get some fresh. “They're gonna have to cool it with the hip hop, then. I don’t even know how there’s any space left in there.”

“Aye, well, you now have more baby than amniotic fluid, so their movements are feeling sharper. Less of a— what was the word they used? — less of a cushion.”

“Is that why I saw a hand earlier, doctor Jones?”

“Did you?” he laughs excitedly, kissing the tip of her nose as he often does.

She nods, taking his hand off her hip and pressing it softly into the bottom of the left side of her bump. She often found that giving a few light taps encouraged the baby to tap back. Sure enough, the little turd gives his or her dad an enthusiastic high five. “This kid will not stop moving. We’re gonna have to enroll them in all the sports.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Perhaps some rum on the pacifier will calm him down once he’s here.” He raises his brows in quick succession.

“Killian!” she swats at his chest.

“No one is giving my grandchild rum until they’re at least 35.” She spins back to the door, smiling still as her dad enters and starts to cut away at the excessive packaging. “Killian, I was thinking you could go grab the paint while Emma and I work on the crib, what do you say? Mom will be here soon so we can start painting once you're back.”

“Sounds reasonable, mate.”

“Ugh, forgot my drill in the truck. I’ll be right back.”

Killian walks around Emma so that he’s facing her again, brushing away a strand of hair that fell out of her top knot. “Which swatch was it, love?”

“It’s called Dolphin Fin.”

His face twists. “Nasty buggers, if you ask me.”

“But they do make a nice wall color.”

He chuckles and presses a soft kiss to her mouth, barely slinking his tongue along her bottom lip. “I’ll be back.”

“Okay, thanks. Love you.”

He freezes. Emma freezes.

What the hell? Did she seriously just say that?

He said it weeks ago. Months ago. She still hasn’t found it in herself to say it back, no matter how many times she’s thought it. Archie says she’s scared that if she admits it aloud, it makes it real, and it means that she risks losing him.

Too late to consider that now, she supposes.

Her heart is racing and her palms are sweating; the baby even stills it’s wiggles in her stomach, as if to say mom, what the hell are you doing?

He squeezes her shoulder after a moment of silence, and it’s as if he needed the time to take in what she said before he can respond. “Aye,” he says softly, more quietly than ever. “I love you, too, Emma.”

She already knew this, but that knowledge doesn’t stop the doubts as she asks, “really?”

“I thought it was rather obvious,” he laughs, “considering I’ve already told you.”

She laughs now too, tipping forward slightly (and not gracefully—she’s so front-heavy that once she starts going, she is physically incapable of stopping), pressing her forehead into his collarbone and breathing in the soothing scent of leather and new cologne. “I haven’t really said it to anyone since… well, it’s been a long time.”

“Aye,” he replies, running a hand down her back and pulling her as close to him as the bump will allow. “For me, too. It’s alright, darling. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. Not even if you try and force me away.”

“I won’t,” she says against his skin. “And I… I love you, too.” It comes out in a whisper, and she’s never felt so scared and excited in her life—with perhaps the exception of learning that she was pregnant. With a man whom she loves.

She hears the squealing buzz of the drill coming from down the hall and lets Killian gently press on her shoulders to help her to an upright position.

“I’ll be back, Swan.”

She smiles as David enters the room and makes his way back towards the crib. “Oh, Killian!” Emma calls. He turns at the door and hums, raising a brow at her. “We’re out of Cheez-Its.”

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles as he makes his way into the hall. “How?”

“Thank you!”

~~~~

“This is a nice one,” David says once the crib is finished. Emma’s been wrestling with getting the fitted sheet over the little mattress for at least five minutes now, and it’s honestly ridiculous for her to be struggling this much. “You can adjust the height of the mattress as the baby gets bigger.”

She nods, finally succeeding over the damn thing and passing it towards her dad so that he can plop it into the crib.

“I do have good taste, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “About that…”

“Uh oh,” she retorts awkwardly, “am I in trouble?”

He chuckles, walking over to her once the mattress is in place to rest a hand on her shoulder. “Quite the opposite, actually. It seems like you two are in a really good place.”

She nods, smiling as she leaves the nursery and makes her way to the kitchen for some water. All she can hear in the back of her mind is, “must stay hydrated, Swan.”

“We are.”

“I must say, it took a bit for me to get over my reservations about the pirate.”

“Oh, I remember how long it took,” she says, thinking back to her birthday and how much her father distained the idea of her inviting him.

“It may have taken a bit,” he continues pointedly, “but you two are going to be fantastic parents.”

She won’t cry, honest. “Thanks. We… well, we’re really excited. Everything happened kind of out of order, but we’re happy where we are, I think.”

“I can see that. And I'm sorry I ever pushed you towards Neal.” She nods. “If I had known last year what I know now…”

Before she can argue with him that they’ve already had this conversation, the door opens and Mary Margaret steps inside, carrying grocery bags filled with dinner ingredients.

Emma’s violent aversion to meatballs has subsided, and now she can’t get enough. They have at least a dozen in the freezer, but she still requested them for dinner tonight.

“Hi honeys!” Mary Margaret calls as David takes a bag out of her hand and guides her into the kitchen area.

“Hey,” Emma responds before making her way to the table just outside of the kitchen and taking a seat. She picks up the closest ultrasound printout and smiles at the baby’s strong profile.

Killian and David are wrapping things up in the nursery, almost finished painting with the door shut so that she wasn’t exposed to the fumes, and Mary Margaret closes the oven once the tray of meatballs are formed and placed on the rack.

“Oh, Emma, I just can’t wait to meet this little one,” her mother says over her shoulder, placing a gentle hand on the top of her belly.

“Me too,” she says with a grin. Her mother takes a seat next to Emma and pours herself a glass of wine.

“I have had a heck of a week. It’s like all of the kids pooled money for an espresso machine.”

“You're still liking being back at school though?”

“Oh, I’m loving it. It’s like being back where I belong.” Emma smiles and nods, waving in front of her at a fly that decided to make an appearance. “The nursery is going to be so cute, sweetie. Killian must love the theme.”

“Yeah, he does. I was mostly his idea. He wanted,” she swats at the air again, “damn fly. He wanted to raise the kid on the Jolly Roger without actually endangering them at sea.”

“So thoughtful. He’s gonna be a great dad.” Mary Margaret brushes her hand through the air too as the fly invades her space.

“He already is.”

“I know we’ve sort of had this discussion already, but—”

“Mary Margaret—”

“Just hear me out. Please?” Emma nods, giving her consent to continue. “Neal is a great father to Henry; I can’t doubt that. Ever since he came into his life, I’ve seen nothing love and care towards his son.”

“I know.”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that what he did to you 12 years ago is unforgiveable.” Emma nods in agreement. “And your father and I, mainly me, trying to push you towards him before we knew why you were so hesitant about him being back is unforgiveable.”

“Mary Margaret…”

“I’m not saying this because I want your pity or your forgiveness. I want you to know that I’m sorry. That I see the fault in my behavior, and I want to make up for it. I’ll never stop trying to be the best person that I can for you, Emma. I hope that Neal does the same for Henry. And I know that you and Killian will do the same for your child.” She pauses for a breath and a sip of wine, swatting at the fly again before continuing. “It’s something that doesn’t always come naturally to some parents, and I was honestly worried about Killian at first, but I can see now that it is coming naturally to him, and I’m so happy that the two of you are getting the opportunity to raise a child together. I wish I had accepted these feelings months ago.”

Emma isn’t really sure what to say. They’ve talked briefly about her past with Neal over the last few months, mostly about how Emma’s working on getting past it. Emma even brought Mary Margaret to a session with Archie once. But she’s never really heard the depth of emotions that her mother was experiencing.

“Thank you… that means—”

Mary Margaret swats a bit too animatedly and bumps her hand into her glass of wine, causing it to topple over and spill onto the table. “Oh shoot!” she jumps, reaching for the soiled mail as Emma heaves herself up for some paper towel. “I’m sorry, honey, let me get this.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“Oh, this is soaking through the paper. I’m so sorry. Can I take this stuff out of their envelopes? I don’t want whatever’s inside to get ruined.”

Emma nods as she rips a few pieces of paper from the roll.

Maybe she should’ve said no, though.

“Just a few bills and ads and other junk,” she says as she quickly discards of the wine-soaked envelopes. It’s all well and good until Emma’s making her way back to the table, rounding the kitchen island, and sees Mary Margaret tearing open that small yellow envelope.

“Wait!” she shouts, holding up a hand and hurrying over to the table, but it’s too late. Or, she’s incapable of moving any faster.

Mary Margaret gasps. So does Emma.

Written on the small piece of paper that her mother pulls out is the four-letter word Emma’s been thinking about for months.

GIRL, it says, with a bold line drawn underneath, as if the technician was excited to write it down.

“Oh my.” Her mother’s eyes blow wide.

“Oh my god,” Emma whispers, placing her hands over her mouth before thinking better of it and sliding them over her bump. Over her baby girl. “Oh my god.”

“Emma…” Mary Margaret starts, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t know it was in here!”

“Mom,” Emma laughs, tears pricking her eyes, and whispers, “it’s alright.”

“You’ve…” she walks over to Emma, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve never called me that before, not really.” Mary Margaret’s eyes are glossy, too.

She laughs out a soft sob, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “It’s a girl.”

Mary Margaret nods, pulling her daughter in for a hug as tight as the two of them can manage. “Do you have any names?”

“No!” Emma laughs out again, sniffling. “Killian didn’t want to know, and I haven’t been thinking about it much. You won’t tell him, right?”

“No! It’s—”

“All set, Swan, you're allowed in the room in a week!” Killian calls from down the hall, making his way into the kitchen. She crumples up the paper she’s holding and shoves it between her boobs. Ouch.

She sniffles once again and spins around, too quickly so that she gets a little uneasy on her feet, smiling at him. “Thank you.” Mary Margaret takes the paper towels from her grip and brushes it over her own cheeks before she starts to blot up the wine.

“No worries, Swan, you don’t need to cry over spilt wine,” he says, walking to her and kissing her forehead before taking the reddened towels from her mother.

~~~~

She hit 36 weeks of pregnancy on Tuesday, and when wakes up from her nap the following Sunday, it’s to round ligament pain, cramps in her legs, her esophagus essentially on fire, and gas… oh god, the gas. Poor Killian.

“It’s really just the most contemptable thing, my love. Peter Pan was perhaps the most treacherous foe your daddy has ever faced. Well, aside from your mother on that damn bean stock.”

“You better not be soiling my baby’s image of her mother,” she says groggily with her eyes still shut. Her breath catches as she inadvertently discloses the sex of the baby, but Killian thinks nothing of it.

“Could be a boy,” he responds, and damn him for stealing her line.

She smirks, because no she couldn’t, but looks down at him. When she opens her eyes, she sees that he’s holding the copy of Peter Pan that she gave him for Christmas, his head resting on the pregnancy pillow that replaced him weeks ago next to her thigh, and he’s reading to her again.

He’ll be the best dad.

“You should be getting up soon, love. Regina still wants to take you to lunch.”

“I can’t believe that. When has she ever shown any interest in spending time with me?”

He shrugs, his shoulder bumping into her leg, and presses a gentle kiss to the bottom of her belly, close to where the baby’s head is resting.

A thought dawns on her then, fueled by his refusal to answer her. “It’s not a shower is it? It better not be a shower.”

“You could take a shower, I guess. But I think you smell nice.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a Sunday afternoon three weeks before my due date, Killian. If it’s a shower, I’ll kill you.”

“Please don’t threaten me with physical violence in front of my son,” he says seriously, and she laughs.

“Could be a girl.”

“Could be.”

~~~~

It was a shower.

Regina picked her up at 1:30 and drove her straight to town hall. She didn’t even try to disguise it.

“This was your mother’s idea,” she tells her apathetically as she parks in her front spot. Emma is glad to have such a short distance to walk, or should she say, waddle.

The hall is decorated similarly to how the nursery is, ornamental ropes and netting and shells scattered along the tables and blue and pink streamers cascading from the ceiling.

Everyone she’s ever known is there, and while she thought she would hate the attention, she’s actually happy to see all of the friends she’s made since arriving in Storybrooke. Even Anna and Elsa made their way over via portal from Arendelle.

Her mother also provided snacks and desserts, and Emma couldn’t be happier to have a big bowl of Cheez-Its sat in front of her for the entire party. There are also onesie decoration stations, polls for guessing the due date and gender, and plenty of games to keep everyone busy before cake and gifts. The cake was beautiful; Granny somehow created one in the shape of a ship’s wheel. Emma doesn’t cry, she doesn’t.

The guests for most of the shower are women, but at the end, David, Henry, and Killian arrive to say hello to everyone and help to pack up. She received so many things that she didn’t think she would need, but her parents also gave her the things she had planned on buying herself, like the stroller and car seat she’s been looking at.

She doesn’t cry. Really.

“Hi baby,” Killian says, bending to kiss the top of her belly, and then, “hi baby mama,” as he stands straight and kisses her chastely.

She laughs, taking his face between her two hands and kissing him back with a bit more heat, slipping her tongue against his and pulling his hair. There were a few weeks there when she didn’t really feel like sex, but for some reason that she isn’t questioning, her drive is back. Her doctor says it’s healthy, so she’s taking that knowledge and running with it.

“Easy tiger,” he says, “we’ve got company.”

She hums out a laugh, leaning her forehead against his. “Just hoping to induce labor. I don’t know how I’ll survive another three weeks and two days.”

He snorts and ignores her statement in favor of asking, “where would you like us to bring the gifts, my love?”

She grins at his addition of the word my and shrugs. “Home, I guess,” she teases.

“Your home or mine?”

Did she seriously forget that they don’t actually live together? Seriously?

“Oh, um…” she starts, taking a moment to consider her answer. There are so many things she could say. She could tell him to send the things to his house. To the baby’s house, because honestly, she knows that’s where the baby is living. But instead of being blasé about the situation, she thinks about what Archie would say. About how she could start putting herself and her needs first, without worrying about the consequences that she makes up in her own head. So, she softly says, “ours,” and looks at him timidly.

“Ours,” he repeats, breathing out a laugh and shaking his head lightly. “Really?”

She nods. “I think… well, I want to live with you. Officially. I know everything in life is uncertain, but I know for sure that I want to live with you and the baby. Full time. That is… if you—if you want that.”

There could have been a more romantic time or place to have this conversation. Her family and friends are running around trying to pack, she’s eaten more cake in the last hour than she cares to disclose, and she’s trying really hard to hold in a fart. But something about this feels right, and when she sees the grin that splits his face in two, she knows that she made the right call.

“Well, when you put it like that, I would love to live with you,” he says, leaning in towards her and kissing her so gently and passionately that she can feel it in her toes. He tries to pull her in closer, but the child between them makes it pretty difficult, so he laughs into their kiss and rubs his hand along the side of her bump. “Shall I tell Dave to move your things into your new abode, my darling?”

She laughs and swats at his chest before leaning in to kiss him once more. “That sounds perfect, baby daddy.”

~~~~

Emma’s been in labor before. She knows the difference between Braxton Hicks and actual contractions, but each time she stops where she stands and rubs her belly, breathing deeply, Killian rushes over and asks if it’s time. She knows he’s excited, and he seems pretty calm, but it for some reason, that agitates her.

“No, god dammit,” she would hiss, gritting her teeth through it, trying to shake it off. She knows that if it goes away when she moves, she’s in the clear. He doesn’t ever seem to know how to respond to her outbursts, so he just kisses her temple and goes back to what he’s doing. Usually, he’s getting her a snack.

At a few days shy of 39 weeks, she supposes she could be in a much worse mood.

She’s moved past the nesting stage and straight into obsessive planning and cleaning. She’s made Killian rearrange the nursery at least four times, moved the position of the bassinet in their bedroom twice, and has yet to decide what side she wants the car seat installed. At least he’s now had plenty of practice on how to properly install it.

The worst part is how anxious she is. She wants this baby to come out more than anything—revels in the idea of finally meeting the tiny life they’ve created. She wants to meet her daughter. But she also wants to keep her safe. How is she supposed to keep her baby safe if she isn’t inside her? She’s built a lovely home for this kid over the last 9 months, thank you very much.

So, every time she has a Braxton Hicks contraction, she panics a bit. Because as much as she wants to give birth and not be 9 months pregnant anymore, she’s absolutely terrified of the idea.

Sometimes, though, the late-term pregnancy symptoms are worse than the thought of staying pregnant forever. She could do without lightening crotch and weird discharge for the rest of her life and be perfectly content.

It’s her turn to consult the apps, searching for ways to encourage labor when the heartburn and pelvic pain become too much to bear, and while walks and exercise balls are nice ideas, her favorite suggestion is sex.

Killian was nervous when she started coming on to him, but he seems to enjoy himself based on the way he runs his hand along her body, presses his mouth against her heated skin, and tucks his throbbing erection tightly into her from behind and comes with a long, deep moan.

When they're finished and she’s panting with her knees and face pressed into the mattress and her ass in the air, she sighs. “Still nothing.”

“It’s not time yet, love,” he says soothingly to her left, running his hand along her arched back and landing it on her ass. “You can’t be comfortable like this.”

With her belly hanging down and resting against the mattress, she’s surprisingly comfortable, the pressure finally releasing from her hips, but she’s going to have lines pressed into her face if she doesn’t move soon.

“It’s almost time, though. I’m literally going insane over here. I can barely breathe from the heartburn and these huge feet shoving into my lungs. Can’t she just pop out a little early?”

“While I would love to be able to prove you wrong sooner rather than later, I think that he is enjoying his time in the safety of your womb, my love.”

She snorts at his insistence and flops over onto her side so that her back is pressed to his front, his hand sliding around her to hold her huge belly.

“I’ll be full term on Tuesday. They can come out any time they want.”

“That’s still three days away, and then you’ll only be 39 weeks.”

“I can deliver at 39 weeks. I was 37 with Henry.”

His small strokes slow when he asks, “were you?”

She nods against his chest, feeling her eyes getting heavy and her breathing finally evening out a bit. “Can you get my pillow? I think I might actually fall asleep tonight.”

“It’s only 7:30.” She shrugs. “Of course, Swan.” He chuckles lightly, kissing the back of her neck and pulling away, replacing his missing body heat with a blanket and tucking her pillow between her knees.

When she wakes to a professional dance routine just before eleven, it’s to their empty bed, the soft glow of a light down the hall illuminating her path as she gets up. As she makes her way to the bathroom, she feels a warm trickle starting down her legs and suspects that her water must be breaking, and she nearly squeals in excitement.

Then she panics, because labor and delivery is no walk in the park, but she tries to focus on the fact that her baby is on her way.

In a few hours, she’ll get to meet her daughter. Their daughter.

How is she going to raise a kid from day one? Henry was easy, all the hard work was done for her and she was left with an awesome 10-year-old. This one is all on her, though.

Well, on them. Archie would ask her why she feels the need to burden solely herself.

Shit, they should’ve discussed names more seriously.

No way is she naming her child Gertrude.

Once she’s cleaned up both herself and the floor (as best she can by rubbing a towel against it with her foot), she knows she should be heading to the hospital soon to ward off infection or illness, but she also knows that she has a long road ahead of her, so she first heads out to the living room and grabs her phone from where she left it on the couch and shoots a text first to her mother, and then to Ruby.

“Swan?” she hears from the nursery. She starts to smile, but then she feels what she assumes is the start of a contraction and she stops in her place. The pressure and pain on her back and belly are strong, starting from the top of her bump and rolling down in a wave, but it’s over pretty quickly, so she isn’t too worried. Of course, Killian is worried, though. “Swan!”

“It’s—”

“Is it time? It’s too early! The baby isn’t done cooking yet, there’s still a week to go!”

“No,” she breathes out as she sits down on the couch, bringing him with her. “It’s okay, the baby is almost full term. If they're ready, they're ready.”

“it’s too soon, Swan. I thought we would have another week.”

“What difference is a week going to make?” she snaps, calming her voice as she continues. “It’ll just be more baby for me to push out. I’m perfectly okay with delivering now.”

This was new. Usually Killian was the cool and collected one of the two of them, but it appears he’s currently losing his mind over this. “I can’t…” he starts, his eyes darting in every direction and his brows practically hidden under his thick hair. “What if I can’t do it?”

“Killian…”

“I was… I didn’t have a father. Not really. How the bloody hell am I supposed to know how to be one myself? I’m no role model for a young lad.”

“You already are a father, Killian. You’ve been the most amazing dad to this baby since the minute you found out about them,” she sooths, taking his hand in hers and drawing it to her lips to kiss his knuckles.

“What if it is a boy, and I raise him to be like me?

“That wouldn’t be so bad, but—”

“Like the worst version of me?”

“No, baby, that’s not—”

“Swan, I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this. I can’t raise a child— I can’t raise a son.” He’s practically in tears, and she can feel his hand shaking in her grasp as his breath catches in his throat.

“Killian,” she says more firmly because, let’s face it, she doesn’t have much time for breakdowns here, and she grabs his cheeks between her hands. “There is not a doubt in my mind that you are, and will continue to be, the most amazing father that this baby could ever dream of having. You and me… we understand each other, remember? Neither of us know what it’s like to be raised by loving parents. But it’s a challenge that we’re going to face together. We get a chance to love this kid the way we wish we had been.”

He can’t seem to meet her eyes with his, either because he doesn’t want to, or because he worries that if he moves them the tears that are threatening to fall will begin to cascade down his cheeks. Something dawns on her then, though, and she realizes that the thought of having a son is weighing heavily on him. Before she can consider whether it’s a good idea or not, she opens her mouth. “I know you don’t think you're capable of being a father, but… well, that ship has sailed, Hook, and your daughter’s on it and waiting for you to jump on.”

He freezes, finally looking her in the eyes as the tears roll down. “My what?”

Emma smiles, running her hand gently along his cheek before leaning in to kiss his lips tenderly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but I thought it might be helpful for you to know.”

He shakes his head and lets out a breath, saying, “it’s a girl?”

“I found out by accident a few weeks ago,” she nods, her nose rubbing along his. “Are you mad at me?”

He laughs breathily and kisses her, shaking his head. “How could I ever be mad at you?”

“I know, right?” she jokes, but this conversation has gone on for too long, and she feels the wave of another contraction starting. She forgot to check the time after the last one, so she isn’t able to tell how close together they are, but she knows more will come for her to track. “Ugh,” she says, breathing as deeply as she can. “What time is it?”

“11:16.”

“Count,” she demands. She continues to breathe deeply through circled lips as he sits by her quietly and rubs her knuckles with his thumb. “Okay,” she breathes out finally.

“That was about 26 seconds.”

“From when I told you to start counting?”

“Aye.”

She figures it’s safe to add 10 seconds and takes out her phone to mark it down. “We should go. I could still talk through that one, but my water broke, so I have to go to the hospital.”

“Your water broke? When?”

“When I woke up. Don’t worry, I cleaned it. Can you get the baby’s bag from the nursery, and mine from the closet? And don’t forget yours, too.”

~~~~

Her parents meet them at the hospital once they arrive, only after she shouted at Killian from the car about all of the things she thought she forgot. When they arrived, she realized she forgot deodorant, and it took a lot of convincing on Killian’s part to get her inside rather than turning the car around.

That doesn’t mean she didn’t send him to the gift shop to get her deodorant.

“How am I going to change a diaper with a hook for a hand?” Killian asks in another panic during one of her fiercer contractions, and she squeezed his good hand so hard she thinks she might break it.

“Fuck!” she shouts through it, then glares at him once it subsides. “I’ll magic your fucking hand back on if it’ll make you happy, okay? Fuck.”

She’s panting and sweaty, but she wanted to wait a bit before she got the epidural. She isn’t sure why the hell she would do that.

“Do you think that’s an option?” he asks as he rests the cool, damp cloth on her forehead, and she sighs.

“I don’t know, Killian, maybe. Maybe we can ask Regina.”

“Maybe Gold would know,” her father pipes in, and Emma rolls her eyes.

“You're not going anywhere near Gold, got it? He’ll probably just manipulate you until he gets what he wan—ahh, fuck.”

Another wave starts and she reaches for Killian’s hand again, drawing a grimace from him. The poor thing. He would probably have an easier time with this process if he could switch hands between contractions.

“The doctor will be in soon, my love,” he says once it passes as he kisses her temple. “She’ll check you again and then you can get your epi— your epi—epinephrin.”

She breathes out a laugh as she drops her head back to the pillow, panting and closing her eyes. “It’s an epidural. Fuck, you're so cute. I love you so much.”

He laughs now, kissing her cheek and running his crushed hand through her matted, sweaty hair. “I know you're just saying that because of all the hormones, but I love you too.”

“Sorry I keep yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, Emma, I still quite fancy you.”

“Sweetheart, do you need more ice chips?” She had honestly forgotten that her parents were in the room. She wasn’t planning on having them with her the whole time, but she thought she might want the extra moral support.

“No, I’m fine, but can you guys do something for me?” she asks, now fixated on the idea.

“Of course, anything.”

“Can you go ask Regina about Hook’s hand?”

~~~~

A beautiful baby girl is born at 7:22 on the morning of June seventh. She weighs eight pounds and four ounces, and she’s 19 inches long.

She’s absolutely perfect.

She comes out screaming and crying, but relatively easily otherwise, and the second that Emma hears her cries, she breaks down into sobs herself and reaches for her daughter. She’s placed on her bare chest shortly after her birth, with Killian resting his head against Emma’s and crying softly into her hair as he looks down at their baby.

Emma has never felt such bliss and joy in her entire life.

The last time she was in this position, she was broken. She had been heartbroken by the person she loved, whom she thought loved her. She had been betrayed by the system that was supposed to protect her.

Now, she has her family, a man she loves by her side, and her chubby, beautiful, flawless daughter in her arms.

She has almost no hair, just a few light whisps at the top of her head, and Emma suspects that she may inherit her blonde locks. She hasn’t been able to see much of her eyes yet, but she suspects that she has Killian’s.

Killian takes the baby from the nurses once she’s been weighed and measured and cleaned, and Emma notices that he’s removed his hook. The way he cradles her like she’s more impeccable than the most precious piece of treasure he’s ever pilfered makes her heart skip a beat.

She’s floating on a cloud, or perhaps on a ship, and she couldn’t be calmer and happier than she is now. Although, perhaps that’s also thanks to the hormones her body is emitting.

Her parents appear after a while and coo over the new bundle of joy as Emma rests her eyes. She’s soothed by the sounds of her mother and father doting over their grandchild and praising her parents for how beautiful and perfect she is.

A few moments later, Henry arrives and immediately give Emma a hug, making her tear up. He sits on the bed with her as Killian places the baby in his arms, encouraging him to support her neck the same way that he learned to. (“This YouTube is a wonderful thing, Swan.”)

Henry brings Emma flowers, and says that his dad helped him pick them out from the gift shop. It doesn’t bother her as much as she thinks it could have, knowing that he’s here, or at least dropped off their son. She sees the effort that he’s making and appreciates that he hasn’t been around to bother her in several months. Henry is their kid, like it or not, and if Neal continues to put him first and leave everything else out of their coparenting relationship, then maybe they can bury the hatchet one day. Again, though, perhaps that’s the oxytocin talking.

She was thrilled to see her family and to discuss the new light of her life, but when Ruby and Granny walk in with a greasy paper bag, she almost jumps from the bed and launches herself towards them. She thinks better of it, of course, and once her hands are clean, she trades Granny the baby for the grilled cheese and onion rings. She even feels generous and shares a few with Henry.

Granny hugs Killian tighter than she’s seen her hug anyone. She looks down at the sleeping baby and back up at Killian and has tears in her eyes. It’s genuinely the most unexpected, beautiful relationship Emma may have seen in Storybrooke.

Regina makes a brief appearance when she comes to pick Henry up later and takes a quick look at their baby girl with a smile on her face. She wishes them congratulations and tells them that she’s beautiful, as if they didn’t know already.

In the late afternoon, when everyone has blessedly left and Emma starts to breastfeed their daughter again, Killian speaks from the chair next to her bed for what feels like the first time in hours.

“What are we going to call her, Swan?” He’s nearly whispering, the quietness of the room setting a soft and placid mood.

“I don’t know. She’s so beautiful and perfect, we need to find the perfect name.”

“So, Gertrude.”

“No!” If she was thinking clearly, she would know that he was joking.

He stands from the recliner and makes his way to sit at the side of her bed with her. He couldn’t stay away from the two of them, and she didn’t mind. “We’ll think of something, love,” he says with a kiss to her temple, then another to the tip of her nose, and then a final kiss to the top of the baby’s fuzzy head. “She looks like my mother.”

“Does she?”

He nods. “Just a bit. I think she may have my eyes.”

“I was hoping for that,” Emma says with a grin. The baby finishes eating and spits the nipple out, impatiently wiggling around until Emma can readjust her in her arms. Her behaviors in the womb seem to match those she’s displaying outside.

He kisses Emma’s head again, lingering his lips against her hair and breathing in deeply. “Did you just smell me?”

“Not intentionally, although you do smell delicious.”

“I’m sweaty!”

“Only because you just gave birth to the most beautiful being in all the realms. That makes you smell nice.”

“Shut up,” she laughs. “Don’t make me curse at you in front of my daughter.”

“Corrine,” he blurts out suddenly and with no preamble.

“Corrine?”

“Aye, Corrine.”

“It’s…” she looks down at the baby again, at her soft cheeks and sloped nose and her closed, puffy eyes, and smiles. “It’s perfect. How did you come up with it?”

He shrugs, dropping a kiss to her shoulder this time. “You just kept saying ‘we have to think about names, Killian’, so I thought about names. Didn’t you?” He’s smirking at her, the cheeky bast—so and so.

“Not really,” she laughs. “I just knew I kind of wanted the middle name to be Ruth, after my dad’s mother.”

“Corrine Ruth. It’s rather fetching.”

“Corrine Ruth Jones,” she nods with a smile, looking down at her and running a finger along her fair brow.

Killian stills, his jaw stiffening against her head. “Jones?” he asks tightly.

“What, now you’re questioning her paternity?” The baby, Corrine, opens her eyes and looks up to Emma as if to confirm that she is most definitely a Jones. Or perhaps to tell her to be quiet, she’s trying to nap.

“No,” he says softly, touching a finger to the silky skin of Corrine’s cheek and nose. “No, look at these eyes,” he laughs. “I just didn’t realize… I know that in your realm, it’s customary to give a child it’s father’s surname, but I also know that tradition is fading in popularity…”

She sighs contentedly, leaning her forehead against his and kissing his cheek. “I always wanted her to have your name. Jones is a little more dignified than the name I gave myself when I was ten, anyway.”

“I am a rather dignified fellow.” He laughs, and she nods. “Are you sure, love?” he asks with less confidence.

“Positive.”

~~~~

“Are you ready?”

“Aye.”

“Are you sure about this? You can still change your mind.”

“I’m sure, Swan.”

Corrine tuts happily in response from her rocker in the living room. At five weeks old, Emma and Killian have found that she’s happiest when she’s moving; she settles down almost immediately when being rocked or gently bounced, but as soon as the motion stops, she’s squirming and fussing just as she was in Emma’s stomach. They purchased a rather expensive rocker a few days after she was born and found it to be life changing.

“Is your daddy ready, angel? Is he?” Emma makes her way over to Corrine from the kitchen and coos at her. “Is he ready to have his hand back, baby girl? Hmm?” She responds in kind with a kick and a contented blubber, and Emma can’t resist unstrapping and picking her up to smack a succession of kisses to her chubby cheeks and still bald head. She was born with some extra fat around the edges, and after just over a month, she’s put on plenty more. She’s a very, very good eater.

“I’m ready, love. Think about how much easier your life would be if I could change a poopy diaper on my own.” Never in her life did Emma think she would hear Captain Hook utter the phrase poopy diaper, never mind want to change one himself.

“Okay, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this, you know? This has been a part of you for years.”

“Aye, I know, darling, but… Captain Hook is no more. He’s retired, if you will. I want to move on with my life; from that time in my life.”

She nods, understanding what he means. When they discovered from Regina that Emma should have the ability to return his lost limb, they thought long and hard about it. Killian was quiet for the last few weeks as he seemed to consider his options, but after not too long, he told her that this is what he wants. “I want to hold my daughter with both hands, love.” Emma was the one to put it off, nervous to mess it up.

Now, though, they have the disturbing jar from Gold’s shop, courtesy of Belle, sitting on their kitchen table, and she’d like to get the ominous Halloween decoration away from their baby sooner rather than later. “Ugh,” she says. “I can’t believe he kept it.”

She places Corrine back in her rocker and straps her in safely before making her way back to the kitchen, hesitant to look at the floating hand for too long. She thinks back to what Regina told her, delving into her magic as deeply as she can before it feels right. She waves her hand in Killian’s direction, feeling the magic flowing from her core in a string towards him.

Before she knows it, he’s raising his arm and wiggling the fingers of his left hand between them. “You did it, love, thank you,” he says with a smile. He walks to her and touches her cheek with his newly returned hand, grinning at her brightly as he lets it travel into her hair. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment I met you.”

She leans into his touch before pressing a kiss to his palm, trying to ignore the fact that it was just in a jar of Rumpelstiltskin’s creepy magic water. “I love you,” she says, taking his hand in hers and leaning in to kiss his lips. “Now go pick up your daughter with that thing. I think it’ll change your life.”

“You're just saying that because, if my nose is correct, she needs a change,” he says, although his tone is far from annoyed.

She nods back at him, kissing him one more time before turning him around and pushing him towards her. “Maybe, but it’s your right as her father. One that you’ve been sorely missing out on over the last few weeks. I’m just looking out for you.”

“You always are, aren’t you, my love?” he asks, and once he’s undone her buckles, he wraps his hands around her middle, supporting her head with his left hand. He breathes out meaningfully once he pulls her from her seat and lifts her towards his face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I never thought I’d be here,” he says softly, rocking her gently as he keeps his lips close to her cheek, his eyes closed.

“I know,” Emma says, making her way towards the two of them and rubbing one hand up his back and reaching the other around him to stroke a finger along her fuzzy bald head. “Me either.”

“You’ve given me so much, love. Everything I never knew I needed.” His voice is thick with emotion, and Emma can feel her own throat tightening. “There was a time centuries ago when I thought I wanted to be a father, but after everything… I just never thought it would happen. I never thought I’d be in a place where I was actually in love with the mother of my child.” She blushes at his evocative words, reaching her arms around his waist from behind him and pressing a kiss to his back between his shoulder blades. “I love you,” he says, turning in her arms. “Thank you.”

With Corrine starting to wiggle between them due to his stillness, he laughs lightly and begins to sway back and forth within Emma’s arms, and she reaches up onto her toes and kisses him softly.

Before she knows it, he’s leading her, somehow, in a gentle dance through the living room, softly humming some song she’s never heard before. Her eyes meet Corrine’s— they still match Killian’s— and she leans her forehead against his chest so that her face is just above their daughter’s. Even with the unfortunate smell suspended between the two of them, everything is perfect.

~~~~

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo

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steve0discusses · 4 years ago

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The Live Action Fullmetal Alchemist Movie Part 6: Let’s Kill Hughes

Hey guys, I’ve been having some issues with the blog not...updating my drafts. So in case you’re wondering, that’s where I disappeared to. Give a round of applause to the support team for finding a solution until it gets fixed but as of right now I’m on like a private window with my extensions turned off and writing this from both tumblr and a LibreOffice document. Hello ads, nice to see you back.

Last we left off, we were a hop and skip away to lab 5. In the anime, this was a sequence where there was a bunch of fighting with suits of armor, and they kept that in this movie, but...not the people you think would be fighting are going to be fighting.

Listen I’m not like super knowledgeable about the world of Matte painting, but I like that they’ve unintentionally made this world building where whoever is in charge of making these red bricks basically owns everyone’s nuts. Everything is made out of the same red bricks. Like I know this is a show about homunculi ruling the world but I feel like the red brick guy is hellllllla more egregious. Freakin Monsanto over here.

I assume they had a 3d model and was like “we can just keep using it” and damn, they sure did. And inside of this brick building is, unsurprisingly a lot more red brick (although I think this is partially, if not entirely, an actual real life set.)

This next part is...such a lesson in pacing. Not necessarily a lesson to follow, but definitely a lesson to learn from maybe their non-example.

(watch Hughes die under the cut)

And what’s interesting is that there were a lot of good lines in this upcoming segment. There were a lot of good moments—bu there’s just so many. Maybe too many. You gotta prune your script occasionally, it’s like a tomato plant.

Like I’ve been doing a stress garden to cope with quarantine and Covid and 3+ months of life endangering wildfires, and I learned that you gotta prune the sucker vines off your tomatoes, although sucker vines can also make tomatoes. It sucks to do because I love tomatoes, and I want as many tomatoes as possible, but when you prune the plant, you get bigger better tomatoes that are more worthwhile than the suckers that can infect your plant and make it really sick.

Sorry that made me sound like 5000 years old with that gardening analogy. If you need me to solve your small town murder mysteries, I’m ready.

So it’s like...kind of tragic that it came together as kind of nonsensical when you can tell that it’s so close to being something better.

Like we have some reason up to this point to believe that Ed would have a freak out here...but like...a sobbing on the floor screaming at the walls type of freak out? Was there enough time devoted to this blow up, or did he walk into this room and immediately start screaming? Because he sure did walk immediately into this room and start screeching like a broken bird.

Like last recap, which was about 2 minutes ago in screentime, was this fun and quirky montage with Hughes. Now we’re sobbing into this rusty factory.

And I know what’s going on because I’ve seen the anime, but if you haven’t seen it—would this emotional break down make any sense? We were told by Dr Marcoh, “check out lab 5,” but we were only going to this factory on kind of a wish and a prayer. I really wonder if people who don’t know this show could follow past this point.

And then while we’re still adjusting to “yo, Ed just took it from a 2 to a 10 like immediately” Al is like “Hey I noticed no one is paying attention to me, and I have to lay a wicked fart:”

and then both brother’s just have a freak out. Gotta all be freaking out in this random ass Unity asset that was probably also used for some college grad’s first battle royale.

Pacing is just everything. And what’s SO HARD about Full Metal Alchemist is that there really is a lot of content to cover, there’s a lot of emotions to go through, and when you only have about 7 minutes to cover what was about 3-4 episodes, if I remember correctly, it’s kind of a zany mess.

And if you were going into this movie hoping they wouldn’t illustrate Al as a large idiot baby, then you share the sentiments of most people who saw this movie. Al is like...kind of reduced to a whiny big baby and is...not cute. Like Al is low key kind of menacing throughout this movie, not just because he has this CGI armor thing going on, but also because Al is...so impressionable and unhinged.

Something that I didn’t appreciate enough when I watched the anime was just how important Barry the Chopper was for Al’s logical character development.

Yo...These bangs…

...I’ve realized that every show I recap here just has the worst hair styles. I honestly never thought much about hair at all until I watched like 200 hours of Yugioh and all of this movie and also 6 seasons of Once Upon a Time which featured some LOOKS (but only recapped like 3 episodes, sorry if I got some of y’all excited. That was when we had no reason to cap everything because the capping community for Once was very alive and very exciting.)

By hitting him with a wrench (Al does not feel pain, ps, so he doesn’t need to be hunched over like this) Winry reminds Al that Ed would not risk his life for a fake brother (which may be a line from the anime or the manga but I don’t remember) and crying just...a lot.

Like it felt as if she had to shoot all of this out of order. Same with Ed’s freak out here. Movie’s aren’t really shot in succession and it’s up to the director to make it feel coherent and logical...this felt scattered, like the actors really didn’t know what was happening in the scenes leading up to it so they just cranked it to 11.

And then I guess Ed was either so insulted that Al punched him or was so upset that Al made Winry cry (again, this movie really tries to sell the EdxWinry ship and from me that’s a really big compliment), that Ed just started laying punches to extend a fight scene that was kind over before it started.

But symbolically there is a lot nice things going on here, Ed only uses his fleshy hand so he bleeds all over Al, hurting himself as much he’s hurting his brother. Implying more than just this fight, but suggesting that their whole journey of trying to find this sorcerer’s stone is just going to hurt both of them in their quest to save the other.

And then Al says something along the line of “it hurts!” to infer that he’s got this broken heart which is when they both finally just freakin stop.

Such a shame the pacing, which was a mix of too quick, and too many tomatoes, kind of made it hella blindsiding.

Again this was so many episodes of FMA and they stuffed it into so few minutes, it’s wild.

Especially since Ed is like...he’s cast as an adult! He’s an adult! At no point in the movie so far have they called him a kid, and they’re not pretending that he is one. But like...he acts like such a child because in the original, he was one. And, while this movie steps so far away from the source material, if should have committed and either stepped completely away or committed completely. Of course “should” is one of those things where we’ll just never know. A wish into the ether of hindsight being 20/20.

But lets get to the thing that you all came here for. This is where this movie gets BONKERS:

So Hughes actually draws out a pentagram between the different places in Armestrias, including Ishvaal, leading us to think that he’s figured out the whole dealio of turning the country into an alchemy circle. But, for some reason only helps him find the real lab 5.

It didn’t...that’s a different thing.

And it has been a long time since I’ve seen the ending of this movie—and maybe it was so offhand that I forgot if they actually do bring up turning the country into an alchemy circle--watch me eat my words, it could happen—but yo, we are finally killing Hughes—but we’re over halfway through this movie. And you may wonder...so uh...what...then what could possibly happen? There’s too much anime left!

Now I’m glad they kept this scene really close to the anime, although I haven’t watched the anime in a hot minute. It’s kind of an iconic scene so you don’t forget.

Like I do genuinely enjoy the campy parts where they were bringing up some of my favorite nostalgia of the original.

and then when you are like “ah, this is exactly the same as the anime. I can relax and watch as all my expectations are fully realized.” This twist happens.

YAH.

It’s a change!

So in the anime we had a really fun arc where we were trying to save Lieutenant Ross for being framed for killing Hughes. It’s probably my favorite part of Full Metal Alchemist, actually, it was so clever and a really thrilling chase. It was also like...half of season one.

Anyway, they cut it. They reduced half a season into 7 minutes. I know that, because each of these recaps is about 15 minutes of the movie.

You may look at this recap and be like “wait...this all happened in 15 minutes??” because yeah, this all happened in 15 minutes.

The same squad of people we see in every single scene of soldiers comes up to arrest Ed, which is weird, because I thought this band of soldiers was the military under Cl. Mustang’s command so like…shouldn’t they be arresting themselves? Mustang was over the command of more than 2 people. If we are suspicious of Mustang’s buddies then everyone in this movie would be in trouble.

And that’s when I realized that these guys were just unnamed soldiers and not a part of Mustang’s band. They only had like this many extras and just hoped we wouldn’t keep track of who is who, but I KNOW I’ve seen these guys this whole time. There are only like 6 people in this army. I see you movie magic—I see what you’re trying to do.

Anyway, Ed gets thrown into an old timey opera house that occasionally gets to be used for Middle School graduations. Or maybe also a mortuary where they charge you for funerals.

Like I know it’s supposed to be the capital building but like...this looks so weird when it’s live action. I remember the anime had this kinda feel to it but in live action it’s like…

...this is a weird ass capital building…Why do they have curtains like a Granny Holiday Inn in Reno, Nevada?

Thankfully, Hawkeye is here to explain to Ed what just happened because we, the movie viewers, were kind of surprised by that plot twist.

Like there were many ways you can condense half a season into 15 minutes, and I dunno if I would have just changed the murderer. It is a solution you can do. You can just point blame on Mustang and skip that whole Ross segment but like….

…then why write the movie?

Obviously, they had to make the movie, it had already been funded, people were really excited about the idea, and I do not envy the people that had to hack and slash with the Full Metal Alchemist script, but it is interesting what they decided was important to the original content, and what was unimportant. All that stuff that showed how Mustang was brilliant and two steps ahead of everyone else? Unimportant. All that stuff we had that showed how Mustang cares a lot about protecting other people and also cares about Ed and Al? Unimportant.

It really changes the dynamic, and it’s kind of fascinating to go into this cold because it’s been like...a year for me since I’ve watched it...and just see how different everything is without all those supporting characters that when I watched the anime I just assumed were mostly useless (Though fun). Turns out they all had a pretty significant part of making me care about Ed, about Mustang, about Al, about all my main characters.

FMA is very character driven, and this movie is mostly just...plot driven. There’s kind of a great debate in literature about plot driven vs character driven. Movies and TV tend to be very plot driven, because they are very expensive to make, so they follow pre-formatted plot beats like “Save the Cat” or “The Heroes Journey” and other ones (there’s several to choose from).

They’ve made a fine science out of at what point a TV show should introduce the main, at what point they should suffer doubt, at what point they should shun their hero’s journey, etc etc. They know it down to the page number of the scripts they are writing. I know this, because it’s readily available on the internet and people fight about it all the time. This is why a show may suffer developing a character—because they just don’t have time and they just don’t have the resources to do something out of the box. Movies doubly so, because every minute of film can cost thousands of dollars.

What’s interesting about this is that FMA, the original FMA, does follow these beats. It was a manga sold by a huge publisher so it had to follow those beats. But, it has managed to do it while still being character driven. Yo, that’s so hard to do. This story was already written to be hyper condensed and structured when it was made into a Manga, and then it was condensed again for an anime, and then it was condensed yet again for this movie. It’s like a game of telephone, and at one end you have a very character driven story, and then at the other, it’s just totally plot.

Like it’s just a really huge risk to take. This was really, really risky.

PS did you miss Shou? Did you think we’d be done with Shou Tucker? No. Because this movie is gonna end at some point and rather than introduce other people...we’re just gonna stick with Shou and only have one miniboss.

(It has a freakin radiator in it?)

So then this next part happens and it’s low key hilarious.

The whole time.

Mustang and Hawkeye knew what lab 5 was this entire time but Ed just never asked for some reason despite working with those two for what is inferred to be YEARS since his childhood.

Hey PS, did you miss that brick building? Because it’s back.

Anyway, Mustang decides to take this underground where we can recycle the tech crew posing as extras that we used in the shot above us. Would not be surprised if a few of these are someone’s husband or wife on set.

Usually when I watch a movie I don’t get this feeling so much. But this movie...the latter half is like...EMPTY.

...this is going to be all movies made during Covid, I just realized…

Mustang is stopped by an angry Lieutenant Ross, and then we get this series of events.

And when you’re like “...Sorry?” Mustang’s like “I can make it weirder.”

And he just, without any warning or anything, lights Lieutenant Ross on fire. Multiple times, and it’s pretty intense and everyone who’s holding a gun just watches it happen is like…

...well I guess it’s too late to just shoot the guy...

…and like do you seriously not carry around a fire extinguisher when you are trying to manhunt Mustang? This is the one guy you want to wear fireproof clothes around. You have the technology. You at least have the technology for buckets of water. Like no one want to throw a blanket on her?

Just want to...watch? I guess?

Mustang just looks like a nut from this series of events instead of a genius--which is what I think they were originally going for. The pacing does that, youknow? Pacing.

And, out of the corpse pile stands Envy.

Envy has a pretty good look, I appreciated his whole look and that unlike the anime where you only find out Envy is a guy because someone told you on a forum somewhere and you were like “wait WHAT?” the movie is live action so you won’t make that mistake and embarrass yourself online.

Ed has only ever seen Lust once, and she walked in from off screen, stabbed a guy, and walked off. He’s just like...having a time because he’s done zero research into homunculi, and really, at no point in this movie are we going to give him time to figure it out.

Also, there’s this shot where Lust and Gluttony just walk in from behind them in the tunnel and it’s like…

….so no one noticed these two just hanging out back there?

It’s so freakin funny. This movie is gold. I love it.

Now If you just got here, this is a link to read all these recaps in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/fma/chrono

Have a good one, and stay safe! 2021 has been...weird nuts...and it’s still January somehow??? Weird times. Overall, please stay safe, it’s weird out there.

Also, if you’re like “I don’t remember this scene actually” here’s the original Hughes dies scene that inspired the movie (since the movie definitely was like “we’re only going inspired for this one nerds, get mad”)--some shots were inspired cut for cut.

youtube

And obvi this is on Youtube so it’ll probably get taken down eventually, but that’s why it’s flipped.

#FMA #FMA movie #FMA live action movie #recap #Fullmetal alchemist #hughes #roy mustang #ed elric #al elric #winry #I've had to write these tags twice now because tumblr won't SAVE MY DRAFTS #photo recap

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outroshooky · 5 years ago

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hiatus notice.

hi friends,

this is the first time i’m struggling to word a hiatus post, because i’m struggling to believe that this is the right thing for me right now. however, at the end of the day, i need to prioritize my overall health above writing and this blog; thus, i need to take a break from being on here.

life right now feels overwhelming. quarantine and pandemic aside, there is a lot going on in my personal life now that i’m home all the time. i’ve been in a depressive state for a few days; getting out of bed is hard. i’m starting to lose touch with my sense of self, much less the motivation to sit down and write. i need to take time to remember what it’s like to want to write instead of feeling that i need to produce something for readers. if you’d like to read more on this + what i foresee for this little blog, please feel free to continue below the cut. to keep the notice itself short, i’ll end it here.

mutuals, feel free to reach out to me on kakaotalk / line / discord / whatever social media you’re comfortable with so we can keep our conversations going. you are the reason i haven’t gone on hiatus sooner; i adore all of you to the ends of the earth and back.

my plan is to be gone for a few weeks, to give myself a breather and not feel the need to compulsively write for the sake of putting something out there. in the meantime, my blog will be running on a queue. when i come back, we’ll take things from there and see how it goes.

thank you for understanding.

callisto

hello to my friends who have kept reading,

as i stated before, life right now feels incredibly overwhelming. i live in new york, which is one of the centers of the pandemic here in the united states. life has been uprooted for all of us; i have lost out on my senior year of high school because of it. our trip to disney, the penultimate experience for my high school and the culmination of four years of hard work, was canceled. bts postponed; ab6ix concert canceled. spring concert, canceled. finals canceled (a miracle), graduation likely postponed, a pre-college program i’ve been looking forward to for two years, canceled. i lost my job, one that i loved with all of my heart, and now a simple trip to the grocery store has become an expedition in itself. i know i’m not the only one. we all have our stories, the things we’ve lost. it’s okay to admit that that hurts too, losing these things that we looked forward to, that we wanted so desperately.

it’s hard to write stories full of joy when you yourself are not so joyous. perhaps that’s where my writer’s block is coming from; no halo was a very cathartic piece for me for that reason. i was supposed to put out a soulmate!yoongi au that is nothing but pure fluff, but i struggle to envision it when even in my nightmares, i’m screaming at people to stay six feet away from me. i wanted to give you guys something positive to read, to place yourselves in during this time of struggle for everyone. i still want to do that, but i’m not in a good place mentally to do so, and my health will always take priority over my writing.

i see each of my notifications, regardless if it is someone liking a post or reblogging a fic or tagging me in a follow forever. i check every one of them because they matter to me; you guys matter to me in a very special way. each notification is a person, someone somewhere around the world who has been touched by the content i put on this blog. that is something to be celebrated. each note is a person who has felt a certain way because of something i said or wrote or commented on. this to be said, i feel very guilty when i can’t deliver on something i promised, that people were looking forward to, and i deeply regret that i have not yet finished a series for all of my two years on this blog. i haven’t been able to deliver on those promises, and it eats away at me; then i get writer’s block and we’re back where we started.

this leads into my next point. verses and vibes will not be finished on time; in all honesty, i’m not sure if i will finish it at all. perhaps i will push it back a few months to allow myself a breather, to work on other content that is more spur-of-the-moment. i always want to give you guys the most authentic version of myself along with the most authentic fics that come from a place in my heart, works i have an emotional stake in. i will always hold myself to that; unfortunately, that means my original promise from months ago may change because i myself have changed. i want to finish v&v; it’s a series i’m proud of and one that has helped me grow as a writer. i as an author want to see it through, but i need to decide what will be best for me as a person.

on the idea of authenticity comes another concept i’ve been grappling with. my relationship with bts has changed; something i have been trying to ignore for months now, hoping it was where i was at in life and i just didn’t have enough time to follow them. i don’t believe that’s the case anymore. love yourself era was exactly what i needed to hear at that point in my life, a journey i followed with them because i had nothing to lose and nowhere else to turn. the ship sailed and i was on board, but when we came back to port, i stepped off to get some refreshments and it seems to have sailed off without me. i feel like i’ve been left behind somehow― like everybody else learned to love themselves but here i am in my little corner, still struggling to do so. something happened between the summer and the start of school; i think it was their hiatus that really deepened that divide. they needed it, god; they work so hard for us. but it split something in me, and i’m not quite sure if i can get that thing back. i’m telling myself that this feeling is short-term, that they are the same guys i’ve seen in concert four times in two years; that they’re just a hop, skip, and jump across the world and they have their days, too. i’m not so sure if what i’m telling myself is the truth.

if i come to a point where i realize, okay, i don’t want to pursue this anymore; this chapter of my life can end, i will stop writing for bts. however, unless something dramatic happens, i will not deactivate this blog. readers, i want you to continue to have access to my content if it is something you enjoy and something that brings you comfort. i will also stay on tumblr, but simply move to a new blog that is more focused on the other groups i follow (svt/ab6ix). i will also take my current ideas/wips and tailor them for seventeen, writing for ot13 full-time. this is a long-term plan; i don’t expect this to happen immediately, but i want to lay this out for you now so you have an idea of what is in my future. i will obviously post updates about this when it happens and give forewarning so you can find me wherever i end up. editor’s note: i am not moving blogs right now. this is just an idea of what may happen in the future.

this has been on my mind for many months, but i haven’t felt ready to sit down and confront it until now. please be assured, friend, that i haven’t been forced to post any fics that i haven’t wanted to. i genuinely enjoy writing for you and sharing my works with you; merely, i want to make sure that what i’m giving you is from my heart in every way possible. i will always live out my truth unapologetically (curse my aries ass).

this letter is a long but necessary one. it feels so good to finally speak about this after pondering it for so long, wondering if it was right to put it all out there. thank you for reading it, for sticking in there till the end. i won’t be gone for long. stay healthy and stay safe, friend.

all my love,

callisto

#hiatus notice #callisto.doc #personal

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tsar3na · 5 years ago

Photo

Sunrise and Dusk

Fandom: Festival di Sanremo RPF (Amadello) Words: 1682 Notes: This was a fanfic I’ve been working on for a while and debating whether or not to post about it on Tumblr. But I guess I’ve done this sort of thing before so I bit the bullet and did it anyway. It was supposed to be a one-shot but my planning decided to go to more than ten chapters so there’s that. For now, I’ll post the first chapter here then the rest on Archive of Our Own so please support me there, thank you. Ao3 link: [here]

i - Mattina

Days have been a blur for years. Things had a harmonious monotony to them. Fiorello will wake up at 6am, always on time, by an old flip-phone. Take time to say his morning prayers. Clean his body and think of the day ahead. When he doesn’t have a service in the morning, a hot coffee and bread roll can rejuvenate him until lunch. After cleaning his plates, he chooses from a selection of plain polo shirts or turtlenecks paired with smart trousers and shoes.

A small brown and white cat would leap onto his balcony at the dot and of course, Fiorello will take a can of tuna and give it all to her. Once done, he cycles to the church, passing by the numerous buildings, towards the open market closeby. He’s usually the first to arrive so he’s responsible for opening the church and doing light cleaning inside and out. He is not quite a priest - all he does is officework from paperwork to phone calls asking for visits. Yet he’s an integral part of the church, going around the community and volunteering just for a simple “Grazie”.

Around the afternoon, he goes gets ingredients for dinner and catches up to fellow friends along the way. Then he heads home, looking back at the sun crack its warm tones around the sky as it starts to settle. His food is also simple, perhaps saving some for the next day. For entertainment, he opens an old TV and catches up on current affairs. At exactly half past 10 is he ready for bed, ready to wake up the next day and do this all over again.

Rarely does this ever change.

He never suspects a surprise package, or a phone call from a stranger announcing a journey he has been requested to join. His family hasn’t spoken to him for years, not even knowing of the new leaf he has turned. In his youth, he has fallen in love but he’d never reciprocate the feelings in return, so unlikely that he’ll suddenly fall in love again. Was it boring? He didn’t think so. But sometimes, when he looks out, he sees life in people’s windows. Of family, of joy, of tears, of life. Yet he can’t complain, he thinks, as others have had it worse. He has had it worse. Compared to what had used to happen, this was just but a dream. Now in his growing ages, perhaps a man was ready to settle down. Still, he can’t always escape the past he had buried and lied about, a past in which no one knew his name. If only something had happened, something breathtaking that was fresh, unexpected, beyond something that will challenge his whole philosophy.

Nevertheless the alarm rings at 6am.

Thursday morning was looking to be cloudy but break skies before noon. His radio played classic tunes from his childhood as the cat purred on his patio table. Fiorello wanted to change something hence buying a new brand of tuna for her. The cat didn’t have any markings relating to an owner, so he baptised her with the name Ciuri. Sometimes he would joke to himself that she is more akin to a partner or a child, masking some sort of looming insecurity. His phone rang. That was odd - there was barely anyone that he had given his number to. Must be serious.

“Hello? This is Rosario speaking.” he answered.

“Ah, I’m glad I got the right one this time.” the voice on the other line cheered, “Listen it’s Roberto. I’m calling you because there seemed to be a leak in the church. Small leak. Very small. It’s flooding the floor. Okay, big leak. Very large.”

“Oh my goodness, really? Are you okay? Is everything safe?”

“Yes, yes, we saved the important bits. And don’t worry, your area isn’t affected. But the altar and nave are badly flooded so I had to close the church for a while.”

“Oh dear…”

“Emergency closing, I do not know when it will be open again.”

He paced up and down his small kitchen, his anxiety growing, “When will it be fixed? Do we have the funds? Last time I checked, we might but I don’t know if this one we can handle.”

“Don’t worry about all this, I’ve talked to the local offices and they should help us. Listen all you need to do is relax for a few days, get some sun. You’ll know when everything will be back to normal.”

The anxiety immediately turned into panic; “Wait, hold on, what do you mean? I don’t know what to do!”

Beep.

Suddenly his plans have been ruined. Fiorello was about to cycle to work but I guess he has no work to even go to now. This sort of disruption never once came into his mind. Since taking on the job, he refuses to take days off. Even when ill, he would try to march in at least before being sent back to rest. He had never prepared what he might do for a day of just himself. “Okay relax, we can do this.” he thought and very much not relaxing. Ciuri meowed for food. At least this he knew what to do.

He moved from Catania around 25, 26 years ago yet only a handful of times has he really travelled around the village. He had to stay in Sicily, there was no chance he would return and work in the cities further on. The place had a charm to it, powered by the people around. Its history of medieval architecture made it a hotbed for tourists, but during the colder months they were little to none. When he first settled in, he had made a crude list of places he would have liked to go to but never did. Today, he grabs that paper from the cupboard he refuses to touch and was thankful his list was fairly short:

Meet and befriend a stranger

Do something new

That’s it

Even looking at two simple tasks, he was already discouraged. Obviously he has done it before with colleagues and neighbours, but it’s been years since he has made a connection with someone brand new. The rest seemed like dreamy bullshit he thought of as a teen when he decided he wanted to get married to his 3rd highschool sweetheart.

No time is best to break his normal life than now. He waved Ciuri goodbye and headed off with his trusted bike.

To start this new thought of life, he veered from his typical path and into the idyllic green landscape. The views were always spectacular from his window but it was a whole other feeling viewing it from below. Waves of flora stretched as far as the eye can see, scattered with farm animals and a fence or two. The air was getting warmer as the morning began to settle in. He felt the breeze through his body, whispering to him thoughts of change. Maybe tomorrow he will cycle through that path, or he can slow down there and see what was inside the tree. It never felt so good making these small and insignificant choices. Or even trying to make sure his bicycle does not suddenly collide with the parked car just metres ahead of him. If his eyes were closed at the moment, he would be doing one impressive front flip and crashing down onto the dirt. Thankfully screaming seemed to have alerted Fiorello and prevented any sort of trip to the hospital from happening. The man near the car seemed worried, no surprise, and kept asking if he was okay.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Fiorello kept yelling out. “I just, I usually don’t expect cars here, and I was not paying proper attention so I nearly dented your car.”

“Ahh well nothing you can do about it. This old thing has been through so much not even a hammer can stop it from moving.” the stranger boasted.

This man was someone he had never seen before. His clothing screamed tryhard to look younger than he is and the hat casted a nice shadow over it. Without being rude, all Fiorello can tell was his large nose and fox-like eyes. Seemed to be around his age too, albeit maybe showing more signs of wear and tear. As he kept waffling on about his car, all he could look at was how he had a certain smile on his face. It was mesmerising to say the least.

“Anyway so I got lost and tried to find some signal but couldn’t and then you nearly got killed. And now we’re talking.” Wait was he dazing off. He didn’t notice how he kept going on. “Mind giving me some help then? Hotel or something similar. You can hop in if you point to me around.”

“Of course, I don’t mind. What about my bicycle?” he asked, getting back into reality.

“You can just throw that in the back, I don’t care.” They both got in the car as the man started to ignite the engine and Fiorello tried his best to shove the wheels in as best as he could.

“By the way, I haven’t caught your name. Are you a local?”

“I’m Rosario Fiorello. And you?”

He shook his hand briefly. “Amedeo Sebastiani. Most people just call me Amadeus. Intercontinental reporter.” and started to drive.

“A reporter? Nothing that interesting ever happens around here. Nothing that you could notice from the outside anyway. So, what is your intention?”

“I’m mainly here on holiday. I run a travel blog and I’m just wanting to tell my readers some quaint spots around Sicily. It’s kind of embarrassing, I’m a traveller that gets lost a lot so you can see why I say I’m a reporter first. Anyways...”

“That’s interesting.” he glanced then looked out the window. Amadeus did not stop talking for the whole ride. Only now came in his mind why he let himself in a stranger's car. But he guessed, considering the man’s excitement, he’ll be staying around for a while.

#fanfiction #amadello #amarello #sanremo 2020 #rpf #already working on both chapter 2 AND 3 so there's at least that #im so sorry i am terrible in terms of cultural and location stuff #im still learning so please excuse a few mistakes i might make!!#and yes thats why this is in english #people that know me in real life do not interact

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jenovahh · 5 years ago

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KYKM - 1 Day

Only his prowess as a hunter keeps him from getting lost in the wilds of Eorzea. The terrain differs heavily from the lands of Othard, changing from dense forests to barren deserts for as far as the eye could see. You must have some magic on your side that allowed you to traverse the continent so quickly; there is no other explanation for how quickly you evade him.

It has not been long since he has awoken, and though it is still odd, he has had a few days to get used to this new body of his. He’s not nearly as tall, not nearly as bulky. He keeps his hair tucked underneath the hood, only dealing with it when it came time to bathe. This body is considerably weaker than his own form, but not so much so that any mere man can strike him down. It is humorous in a way, that despite being shoved in some random body, he could still wipe out an entire army if he so wished. But armies mean little to him, they were not his goal.

So ready was he to exit the stage to find it had only been an intermission...

For the Warrior still lived, therefore, so must he.

He had just missed you at first; meaning you must be hopping around the continent to help whoever you felt needed you. Tedious as it was, he was diligent. Determined. Destined to meet you once more for your battle.

This body did not hold the same power as his former vessel, but that mattered little. To his knowledge it was being taken care of quite well, so there was no reason to run home to his father quite yet. What new heights could he reach, given another opportunity to hunt his precious beast; to trap them, ensnare them, taste their blood on his lips like the finest of wines?

Just a taste, he had told himself as he trudged through the La Noscean woods. If this body perished, it apparently wouldn’t matter. His soul (he laughed at the concept) would merely find another body to take residence in, and perhaps then he would return to Garlemald for his true body. Only then, would he truly stand a chance to withstand your power.

He’s in no rush. His body most likely won’t be going anywhere, however you just might. After all, you were the Warrior of Light, called to duty by any and everyone, spreading your heroics around the land. Foolish, as usual, but so like you. Growing stronger with each primal felled, each enemy defeated. The thought of how strong you would be when he finally came upon you pushed him forward each day he drew breath.

He had never been in the habit of letting his quarry escape and he certainly wasn’t about to start. Many a night did he go without sleep, following rumors to where you might be. Each time he crept closer he would push himself harder, unable to contain his anticipation. His sword feels heavy at his side, begging to be wielded in his hands as he finally catches you in his sights.

You are just as he remembered: bright, joyful, powerful.

“Are you going to come out?”

Aware.

He cannot stop himself from smiling darkly as he reveals himself to you, the two of you far from any towns or villages. You regard him casually, but he can see the wariness in those crystal depths, wondering if he is friend or foe.

How you wound him.

Your eyes dance across his borrowed form, bewilderment evident in your eyes as he’s sure the face of this man is no one of import. Your weapon has yet to be drawn, but he can see the muscles flexing in your arms down to the tips of your fingers, ready to fight before he can even reach for his sword. To the untrained eye you seem to be completely at ease, one could even say approachable. Casually revering him as but a mere commoner coming to ask yet another favor, not as the prince of the enemy nation who has the blood of thousands on his hands.

Resting his palm on the hilt of his sword, Zenos grins deviously. “Let us duel, Warrior of Light.” There is no need for pretense or dialogue; he prefers to get to the point after searching relentlessly. It is time to duel, to fight, to feel.

You do none of these things. You simply glance at him in obvious confusion, hands remaining at your sides.

“Do I know you?”

============================================================

Since you know, there’s no chapter numbering on tumblr as opposed to AO3, I suppose I have to formally say here that KYKM is officially completed. Wow.

It has been a long journey and I would like to thank everyone for coming along. Thank you all so much for your encouragement and kind words over the months as I've struggled with things such as depression and worry over being unable to find work. Your support means the world to me and has fueled me to keep pressing on and finish this story, so that you may reread and read and read as many times as you like. You all deserve that much from me.

I would like to thank @mellecran from tumblr from being kind enough to let me write her idea in the first place. It had all started when I had seen her concept in the tags and felt so inspired I wanted to write a small bit, until eventually it grew and became something more. She has been incredibly understanding and helpful in the story, and I appreciate her very much.

I'd also like to thank my friend @skyiora! Who has been equally as supportive and listened to my shenanigans about Zenos and KYKM in general many a time. You rule bb <3.

Once again, I'd like to thank all of you guys for taking the time to read my story and leaves kudos and comment and cry and squeal and everything in between. You have made reading comments a joy even if I haven't been able to reply each and every time. I appreciate each and every last one of them and will treasure them in my heart.

As for the story itself, I may go back and change any glaring errors-- spelling mistakes, punctuation, etc. At first I was gonna go back and touch up each of the stories, but eventually came to the conclusion that I should leave it as it is, as a place to see my growth in the next one, five, ten years.

I hope you look forward to any other stories that I write. For one last time, thank you again. Feel free to follow me on Twitter or Tumblr at the same name.

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Shadowbringers #kykm

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years ago

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Sharing His Space

I have to edit whenever I get up. Well, not so much edit as you know, the italics and ish that gets lost when you switch to Tumblr. Knocking out soon. @chenoahchantel @adorkable-blackgirl @kiddangers @henryhearts

Share a Lair 6

Max surfaced some time in the afternoon. Jasper and Henry were sitting at the island, eating plates of food whenever he walked into the kitchen and smirked to himself when he saw them. Charlotte’s face brightened up as soon as she saw him. That made him break out into a wide smile. “Morning, Charlotte!”

“Morning? Try maybe three hours ago, Friend.” She laughed and he came over to where she was standing near the stove and leaned against the counter, “You cook?” He asked.

“Oh, no. I didn’t have time, but my Uncle Roscoe is ALWAYS concerned that if the whole family doesn’t have greens and black eyed peas that the year won’t go right. Despite the fact that he’s been cooking and eating this every year himself for ages and I haven’t seen him have a year that I thought went right in my entire life.”

“Can I have some?” Max asked.

“You ask for things nicely?” Henry asked.

“He asks Charlotte things nicely,” Jasper said. The two of them smiled at each other and she furrowed her eyebrows. What the heck did they mean by that?

She ignored them and told Max, “Of course you can. There’s greens and black eyes peas that he gave me entire pots of. All I had to do was warm it on the stove. And also a whole meat pan of ribs, and I may have shot my shot with his cornbread recipe.”

Max grabbed a plate, “So, your family has like a FEAST for New Year’s Day?”

“Kinda,” she said. He just smiled at her.

Jasper watched them carefully and wondered, “Is there something going on here?” Max realized that he was standing extremely close to Charlotte, practically in her personal space and they were just smiling at each other. They both got some distance at Jasper’s question, and he said, “Nevermind.”

Max sat at the table and ate, then had seconds and thirds… Henry’s eyes were wide, “You can really put some food away, huh?”

“I’ve got superpowers,” was all that Max said.

Charlotte, having been finished eating a while ago, but was still in an apron, now nursing a cup of tea sat down and said, “Right, your biology is a little bit different than ours. Like, your scans and vitals and stuff register differently, so of course, your metabolism and probably other functions would too. Plus, with the range of powers that you have, your natural internal processes are probably so different from ours that our estimations can’t really comprehend it!” She sounded so interested, but also, Max almost felt like she was speaking about some bizarre creature.

“I’m human. I have human functions, but yes… my genes do some things differently.”

“Yeah, I mean, yes - obviously you’re human, but you’re superhuman. It’s not exactly the same.”

“I mean… It’s not, but it is!” He said, kind of irritated. Something about the thought of her seeing him differently was troubling for him. Henry grabbed his empty plate and gave Max a weird look as he went to make another plate for himself.

Charlotte said, gently, but sternly, “I wasn’t trying to upset you, Max. I’m trying to understand.” She shrugged her shoulders and left it alone. He obviously didn’t care to talk about this.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” He wondered. “We got back here pretty late and you called me this morning.” Great. Subject change. She nodded.

“I got about 4 hours of sleep, no… 3.” She sipped her tea. “I’ll probably crash tonight as soon as my head touches my pillow.”

“I wore you out last night, I’m sure,” he said. Jasper choked on his food and Henry snorted laughter. Charlotte’s lip dropped. “Grow up. I only meant I kept her out all night, party hopping.”

“What else would he mean? Because everybody here knows that nothing else would have ever happened between us! I’m not… That girl.” He thought about last night’s little kiss… Actually, he hadn��t stopped thinking about it. He’d been thinking about it from the time it happened, even through the dream portion of his sleep. He couldn’t believe that something that lasted so short in real time was having such a lengthy after effect. But also, she clearly didn’t want her friends to know that it even happened.

He got up, collected his plate and tossed it in the sink. “Henry, don’t forget that you or Jasper have clean up duty for the next two months,” he said and retreated back into his chambers.

Charlotte asked, “You lose a bet or something?”

Henry and Jasper both stammered over word vomit, avoiding admitting that they sold her out with house chores. She put her tea cup away, went to Max’s door, and pressed the button that she guessed worked like a doorbell. His voice came through the speaker, “Yes, Charlotte?”

“Hey… Are we okay?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. You seemed… different… than last night…”

He was quiet for a while and she wasn’t sure if the connection had ended, but he sighed and said, “I’m not the only one.”

She whispered, “Okay, sorry. I will loosen up more. Like last night… Well, maybe not like last night, but…”

He heard him chuckle, “Okay, Charlotte. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Charlotte was more at home in the place than Henry felt lately. He was usually trying to be more mindful about the shared space, considering that he had to be the one to clean it up for now, while she just sort of chilled. She would straight up go into the shared spaces without checking in with Max anymore. She’d pretty much made herself at home.

She even started to wander in wearing night clothes or bringing some to change into, at times. That started, she claimed at Max’s suggestion.

It was the third weekend in January and she staggered out of the tower, exhausted beyond imagination and almost didn’t even notice that Max was outside. When she did, she yelped and startled him. “What is your problem?” He asked, with his hand over his chest.

“What’s yours? What in the world are you doing out here at this time of night?” She asked.

“I live here. I can be out here at whatever time of night I feel like it. What are you doing out here?”

“Getting ready to go home!” She said, a little snappy. “It’s the MLK Weekend and if I miss ANY of the festivities, my parents will have a long, civil rightsy fit. So, I am about to try not to fall asleep as I head back to Swellview so that I can hopefully get a few winks of it before the parade tomorrow morning. Why are you outside of the tower, though?”

This was the best spot for testing out his experiments when he went outside, because the opening was larger than on the other side of the lair. But, he was more concerned about what she’d said before that. “Should you be driving, if you’re this tired? I mean… You could just crash here and meet your folks in the morning, right? Or at least take a nap or something before you go?”

“It sounds like you’re worried,” she said amused.

“You’re the only thing that keeps my housemate and I from battling to his death,” he joked. “But, seriously, it’s dangerous, not just to yourself, but to others on the road.”

“I don’t have much of a choice. Captain Man and Kid Danger didn’t finish their assignment until a few minutes ago, and I can’t sleep in my day stench and old clothes. Gross.”

He sighed, frustrated, but forced a smile that she could see perfectly, even with just a few lanterns and the moonlight. “How about this? Tonight, I can lend you overnight clothes and my shower and stuff and the next time you come around, be sure to have a weekend bag, in case your shift goes too long.”

“Max, I could’ve inconvenienced Henry this way, but I’m not gonna do that to you.”

“It’s not an inconvenience. I’m gonna be way more inconvenienced by wondering if you and the other people on the road made it home safely when I should be testing out this awesome new hoverboard. And Henry? Don’t make me laugh. I feel like I can confidently assume that you wouldn’t be caught dead using his bath products.”

“He uses the same soap for everything.”

“There’s a special place for people like that,” Max said.

She sighed. She really didn’t want to make that drive. “Well… if you’re offering, it’d be rude of me to decline, especially since you’ve made such valid points. But, first thing’s first, lets see what’s so special about this hoverboard.”

Max LOVED when Charlotte was around for one of his inventions. She was one of the few people who he felt genuinely was curious, interested, and impressed by them from the moment she first heard about or saw them. He explained to her about the issues that previous hoverboards ran into and how he made this one with adjustments to those problems and also what he added to make it even better. She totally understood. Whenever he got on it to test it, it took off way faster than she expected and she gasped, but then laughed with excitement at how fluid he seemed on it, even when he did tricks and stuff. Like… WOW. She knew he was athletic, but dang… Ugh… He looked so cool doing stuff on that expert equipment. He pulled back in next to her, kicked an end of it as he leapt off and caught it and placed it under his arm. “I’m gonna be bringing this baby into battle with me. Can you imagine me fighting someone with the aid of this?” He was truly excited, and she was too.

“I can imagine it. I am imagining it, and I will download and save any Hero Tracks that capture it…” He put his free hand in the small of her back and walked her back towards the front entrance.

That night, she realized that his provisions were DEFINITELY more reflective of his work than she would’ve imagined. When you first entered his chambers, there was a long hallway and she noticed that he was deactivating stuff as they walked it, casually speaking and flicking his fingers. So, the lead up must’ve had some great security. Then, they came to what looked like an elevator and he moved his fingers, like he was pressing a code, but of course, didn’t need to actually touch the keys to do so. She worried. Was this going to be like Ray’s elevator? Because she wasn’t sure her head could handle it. But, when it opened, he opened a trap door in the floor and said, “Okay… This slide is really intense. You want me to hang on to you?”

“What? Slide?” She laughed. He sat down and reached for her. “Dear God…” She didn’t know what to pray as she climbed onto his lap and he smiled mischievously before pushing them off with one hand and holding on to her with the other. She. Screamed. This… might have been WORSE than Ray’s elevator. It was like one of those super slides from a water park, but no water and a terrifying drop down. Whenever they came out on the other end, they were practically shot out of the tunnel and floated for a moment as the gravity level of the room accommodated their safety. Her screams should have woken up the entire neighborhood. His laughter was a little bit louder, though. Then, they were released onto a landing pad. He smiled at her as she caught her breath.

“I… That was… Really fun!” She cackled and covered her face. “Oh my God. Is this how you always come home?”

“Usually I cross my arms across my chest like an X, slide down like a boss and control my own landing, but the slide sensed another body and tripped the gravity field control.” Now, she got up and looked around. She never thought that she would be here. He wasn’t a very open person and this was his most private space. It was very dark and mysterious, but also… not creepy, weird, or scary. More like… deep and tranquil. She explored, and to her pleasant surprise, he didn’t stop her. He let her meet his current venus fly trap, showed her a few gadgets that he was currently working on, and such, and warned her which things to be careful around, because they were either weapons in disguise or guarded possessions with safety systems attached or nearby.

“How do you never accidentally set things off yourself?”

“Gifted, I guess,” he said, grabbing a onesie for her. “Here,” he said and tossed it to her.

“Why do you have a bunny onesie?” She asked, chuckling.

“I can’t wanna be cute and cuddly sometimes?” He gave her a washcloth and a drying towel and said, “Soap and stuff’s in there. Nothing hazardous. The one place that’s completely harmless.”

Charlotte stepped in and asked out loud, “What did they give him the prefect’s bathroom?” She studied the bathtub… She wasn’t really a bath person, but the stuff that was there for a nice long soak might be good for her, and she could always get into the shower afterwards, which there was a little walkway with drains leading to. She went to look at the shower. It had what seemed to be music settings, steam settings, aromatherapy… This bathroom was like… she didn’t want to leave it, to be honest. Henry’s bathroom had your traditional two in one bath/shower and the tub wasn’t even half as big as Max’s. Also… while he just had a toilet, Max also had a bidet! She was gonna have to light a fire under Henry. He would have to work his chops off if he wanted to get some good funding. He probably couldn’t really catch up to Max, but he could maybe at least upgrade a little. “You okay? I don’t hear anything…” Max called from the other side of the door.

“I am fangirling over your amazing bathroom, if that’s okay?”

He laughed. “Carry on. Also… The bathtub has a hot tub setting. If you need it.”

“Oh my God, can I come work for you, instead?” She joked.

“I don’t need any staff, but if you just wanna use my bathroom sometimes, I can grant you an access code.”

And he did! She didn’t tell Henry and Jasper, because, well… it wasn’t their business. And whenever she got up in the morning, having slept in Max’s bed, he was asleep on the landing pad beneath his slide with a sleeping mask on. She wasn’t sure that morning how to get out of the place, so she unfortunately had to wake him up. He ripped off his sleeping mask, alert and practically ready to fight, until he saw her. “Oh… Hey… Morning.”

“Sorry. I don’t know how to get back to the surface.”

He pointed to a door that looked yet again like an elevator, but whenever she opened it, it was an escalator. Okay. She got on, thanked him and left. He dragged himself into bed and laid down. His pillow smelled like her hair. He couldn’t help but to smile about that. He hugged it close and kinda wished it was her. He could’ve possibly made a move last night, but… then she might have thought that he was only nice to her for that. He didn’t want to scare her or make her distrust him. Besides, it was cool kinda building a friendship with her. They didn’t HAVE to be more… Probably wouldn’t be.

But, whatever they were, Henry knew that Charlotte had some type of… power in this house. Power that he didn’t seem to have. “Char… You think that you could get Max to agree to some more living room time?”

“I’m not his housemate, Hen. You are.”

“I know, but he likes you, though.”

Her face got warm, “What? No he doesn’t! I mean, we respect each other. We have a sort of rapport that we’ve managed to develop. But, that’s it. Besides, I told you which of those tower rooms you can make into a wonderful living room within your chambers.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have the SAL swag that is in our shared living room.”

“Technically… That stuff belongs to both of you, or it’d be in Max’s chambers. Believe me, his space is SUPER luxurious.”

“You’ve… been in there?” Henry asked, shocked. “This is what I mean! He let you into his chambers. He would never let me or Jasper in there… Maybe he does like you.”

“God, Henry, not everybody is like you. Some people can just be nice because you’re friends, colleagues, or kindred souls. You don’t have to like everybody that you’re nice to!”

“You’re acting so weird about this. Can you please just get me the living room for the last weekend of this month slash first weekend of next month for a videogame tournament?”

“Ohhhh… He’s having that here, with his friends. You can probably come.” She laughed and waved a hand, “You live here. Of course you can come!”

“His friends? He… Has friends?” Henry said.

“The guys from his high school band, Billy and Nora, and maybe Phoebe? I can’t remember who all was tagged in the post.”

“He… You were tagged in a post invited here, where I live, and I wasn’t even so much as spoken to about it?”

“I didn’t think to…”

“I have to try to get a new housemate,” Henry said, shaking his head.

“Henry…”

“No. I don’t care that in the past couple of weeks he’s become your buddy or whatever is happening there. I work hard too and he can’t treat me like an unwanted guest in my own lair that I share with him.”

“I’m just going to tell you that if you file for a transfer, it’s a lot of paperwork and they ask you to try a number of roomate reconciliation tasks and morale building before they determine that indeed you can’t live with the person that they placed you with. He can’t be that bad, Henry.”

“He is, though. He’s the absolute worst. I’d rather live with Ray.”

“Shameless lie, huh?”

“It felt differently before I actually said it.”

“Tell you what… I will talk to him and if he doesn’t care, then we start looking into some of the SAL reconciliation tasks.” Henry gave Charlotte a big hug, lifting her off of the ground and kissed her hard on the cheek.

“You’re the best, Char!”

“Yeah, every time you need something,” she teased and gave him a shove.

#Share a Lair #henry danger #the thundermans #crossover #crossover fanfic #Nesha Crossover #Thundanger #Thunderbolt

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trashforhockeyguys · 6 years ago

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I’ll Always Remember Us This Way-2- Tyler Seguin

A/N: having to repost since tumblr is being a pain in my ass. But i did a thing and wrote part 2, since enough of you asked for it. As always, the first part is linked in my masterlist. enjoy.

The end of the tour came quicker than you thought. It seemed like one minute you were running out of the locker room, leaving Tyler behind, and the next you were here, singing your final song. You knew everyone would go out and party tonight, which would make getting up for the flight in the morning next to impossible. But it was tradition.

“Thank you, New York! It’s been a hell of a tour, I’m glad I was able to spend the last night with you guys!”

You, however, had a choice to make. Get on the plane and go back to LA with everyone else, or choose another flight to take you where you wanted to go. An impossible decision to make without a little help from whatever everyone would be drinking tonight.

Above all else, you wanted to go home. But which one did you need the most?

You tried to catch your breath as you ran off stage. You were done, finally. You felt like you could really breathe for the first time in months. You loved your job and almost everything that came with it. But touring was hard, harder than anyone really ever said. The breaks in between writing a new album and touring were few and far between, but they were the best parts.

“You did it,” George grinned, “Do you need your post-show?”

“Now, all I need is a stiff drink and my bed.”

“Which one?” He knew you had to make a decision, he knew better than anyone.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“You have time.”

You smiled and gave him a big hug. Who knew where you’d be without him. George kept you on track all of this time. He’d been the one to help glue you back together after Tyler had forced you out, and had done it again after you’d left Dallas. He didn’t ask more questions than were needed and didn’t force you to talk. He was just there.

Not even two hours later, all of the band and the crew were half drunk in the middle of some club, while you sat in a back booth, trying to figure out your next move. After the end of the last tour, there’d been no question as to where you were going. You’d gone right back to your sad apartment in LA, before going back to see your parents for a little bit. You hadn’t had to think about it because you didn’t have a choice. Now, however, you were at a major fork in the road, and you weren’t sure which way was the best path. Keep going at it alone? Or run back and hope that you wouldn’t get burned this time.

Slowly, you nursed your wine, not wanting to join everyone just yet. It took all your strength not to text him, not to let him know you were thinking about him. For all you knew, he wasn’t waiting anymore and had moved on. You had a hard time believing he would’ve waited all offseason for you to come running back to him. But maybe, just maybe, he did. Maybe he thought you were worth it this time.

“Y/N! Quit hiding in the corner! It’s time to celebrate!” Your drummer, Vinny, yelled as he pulled you out of the booth, “And for the love of all things, drink something stronger than a glass of red!”

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as he pulled you towards everyone else. They were all laughing and having the time of their lives, finally able to let off steam after an extremely long tour. The two-week break in-between the first leg of the American tour and the two-month long European tour hadn’t been long enough, and the time in between the European tour and leg two of the American tour was even shorter.

“There you go! Let loose, god knows you need to!” Vinny choked, “For one night, don’t live like a nun!”

“Oh, please Vinny, you have no idea!” You laughed, grabbing the glass of whiskey from him and downing it in one go.

“Damn okay, I see you.”

You laughed and just for the night, decided that you’d forget about the decision you had to make, and just have fun with the people that had become your family. All of you had started this tour together, with a big party after the first show, and you’d end it in the same way.

You danced around with everyone and screamed at the top of your lugs when a song everyone knew came on, laughed when one of your songs came on. You had pure fun, which was something you’d been lacking for a while.

The headache you had in the morning was a bitch. For some reason, you hadn’t expected to be as hungover as you were, because you didn’t think you’d gotten as drunk as you apparently did. But you didn’t think twice as you go on the plane and put on your headphones. You’d be home in just a few short hours, and all of this would be behind you.

Two months since you’d gotten back from tour. You’d spent a good majority of the time doing press. You barely had time to think about the fact that you were in LA. Unless it was late at night and you couldn’t sleep because your bed felt too big and too cold.

But you tried not to think about it, about him. However, it was difficult when you got alerts during every single one of his games. It was harder when he was playing in California. You knew you could go see him, and find out once and for all if the two of you could ever work. But your pride wouldn’t let you.

Every bone in your body began to scream at you as the weeks dragged on. Almost every part of you wanted to hop onto the next flight out of LAX, to wherever he was. It didn’t seem to matter to you where he was. You’d be willing to follow him anywhere.

But you always stopped yourself before you could. You were afraid of what would happen if you did go, and he decided he didn’t want you anymore. You couldn’t face it. Or, rather, you couldn’t face him yet.

You couldn’t take another goodbye. You knew that you wouldn’t make it through another one. You loved him too much. You couldn’t lose him again if you didn’t have him. You tried every possible way to talk yourself out of getting onto a plane.

You went out, you tried to meet new people, you tried to move on. But everyone was so focused on you being Y/N Y/L/N that they didn’t see you. They didn’t bother to get to know the real you, not like he did. They didn’t challenge you, they didn’t fight with you. They let you win, almost like they were afraid of upsetting the delicate star that the media painted you to be.

You were miserable. You didn’t even feel like a person anymore, rather just a toy that the industry got to play with when it was convenient. LA started to feel like a prison rather than a home. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to go to him.

“No, Jamie, I’m fine,” You assured him for the thousandth time.

“Oh? Then why did I have to call you twenty times before you picked up?” He questioned.

“I’ve been busy. There’s been a lot on my plate since I got back.”

“Bullshit, I called George this morning, he said you’ve been hiding out.”

You wanted to kick both George and Jamie, mainly because they were the only two left, besides your actual family, that would call you out on things. But you were also surprised that it took Jamie this long to actually try. When you were on tour he called you at least once a week, just to make sure you were still doing okay. When he wasn’t checking in with you, you knew he was checking in with George. Whether you liked it or not, Jamie had become the big brother you didn’t have and didn’t exactly ask for.

“It was a long ass tour, Jamie, I’m allowed to want to hide in my apartment for a while,” You argued, “You hide out during the offseason. It’s the same thing.”

“I don’t hide, I spend time with family and friends,” He explained, “You’re not doing either of those things.”

“Fine, call me out like that. I don’t feel like going anywhere, and I don’t really have any friends here in LA.”

You heard him sigh before pulling the phone away to yell at one of his teammates. It didn’t occur to you that he wasn’t alone. Which, you mentally kicked yourself for because half the team was always together. Which meant, chances are he was with Tyler.

“You’re with the team,” You stated, feeling breathless all of the sudden.

“They’re all in the media room, I’m in the kitchen. It’s fine. Just, come home Y/N,” he begged, “We all miss you.”

“I am home Jamie,” You could feel your eyes started to water. You hoped he didn’t hear your voice start to crack.

“Do you believe a word you’re saying? Honestly?”

“Dallas stopped being my home the second he forced me out,” You snapped, “I’ve tried to forgive him. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t. I don’t know how. So, I can’t come home Jamie. Because Dallas isn’t my home anymore, and you have Tyler to blame for that.”

“He said he was sorry!”

“And that’s just supposed to make it better? Jesus Jamie, don’t be so stupid. I wrote him a fucking album! And to you and everyone else that might not seem too bad, because I’m a singer it’s what I’m supposed to do. But I made him promise he’d never make me do that, he’d never hurt me so bad that it would all I’d be able to write about. One song is bad enough in my book, a full album is more than just a broken heart. So don’t ask me to forgive him, or talk to him, or come back, because I can’t.”

“Then I guess there’s nothing else for me to say, huh?”

“I’m sorry Jamie.”

“I know but you didn’t promise me you’d come back.”

You felt your heart sink because you knew he was right. You’d promised to go find Tyler, wherever he was when your tour ended. But when it came to it, you couldn’t do it. For some reason, even though you’d been ready to run back to him the second you’d left him, you couldn’t do it. You wanted to, you wanted to go home to him again, but for some reason, you couldn’t force yourself.

“Good luck with the rest of the season Jamie.”

“We’re going into playoffs.”

“I know, I still watch every game. I know.”

“He’s still waiting for you. Either get your shit together and come back or let him go. This isn’t fair to him anymore.”

He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else before he hung up on you. You sat in your living room, thinking about what he’d said. Was Tyler really still waiting? Surely, he’d moved on. But then again, Jamie wasn’t one to lie about anything. He certainly wouldn’t lie to you about this, not after having been there for all of it.

It took you all of two days to decide that Jamie was right, you needed to do something. That’s exactly how you found yourself sitting in the airport, waiting on your flight to board. You couldn’t stop your legs from shaking as you waited. Would he even want to see you? Would he let you in?

You didn’t seem to really realize how quickly the time passed because next thing you knew you were in Dallas, sitting in an Uber just outside of Tyler’s house. You didn’t even have a plan, part of you wanted to tell the driver to turn around and take you back to the airport. But suddenly you were standing out on the driveway as the rain poured down on you.

You were quick to turn around and grab your guitar out of the car before they pulled away. And then you were running for the cover of his porch. You were beginning to shiver, even though the rain wasn’t cold.

You took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of courage you had, and rang the doorbell. Had you been thinking a little more clearly, you might’ve realized you were wearing the exact same thing that you had been the day the two of you had met. Right down to the same baseball cap, which was now even more worn out than it had been all those years ago.

You were still shaking when you heard the dogs bark, followed by the sound of footsteps. You were sure your heart was going to beat right out of your chest. He was right there, on the other side of the door. What did you even plan on saying?

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled looking Tyler. It dawned on you that he’d been sleeping. It took him a minute to realize who you were, but the moment he did he took a step back like someone had punched him in the gut.

“Y/N?”

“I um-“

“What are you doing here?”

“Everyone kept telling me that I could go home after the tour was over, and at first I thought it was LA, but it wasn’t… and then I talked to Jamie and I realized that this never stopped being my home.”

“You’re back?”

“If you’ll have me.”

He took a few steps forward, his hands finding your hips, “Jesus, were you standing out in the rain?”

“Um...yeah I had to psych myself up first.”

He cracked a smile, small, but it was there, “Same old Y/N.”

“Same old me.”

He looked like he wanted to pull you closer to him. You saw the look in his eyes for just a second before he pulled away and opened the door for you. You tried not to pay it any mind, it’d been almost a year since you’d last seen him, it made sense that he’d keep you at a distance to start.

But the second the three dogs came barreling towards you, all wad forgotten. You dropped to the floor and let them attack you with kisses. They didn’t even have to stop and smell you, they knew who you were instantly. You missed the babies almost as much as you’d missed Tyler. But Jamie was crafty and liked to send you videos of the pups every chance he got because he knew they were like your children too.

“I know boys,” You laughed as they kissed you.

Cash seemed to be making a whining noise, almost like he was crying as he tried to crawl into your lap, “I know baby, I know.”

“They missed their mom,” Tyler informed you, “Took them a while to stop looking for you. They weren’t the only ones who thought you’d come back.”

You pushed yourself up from the floor, he was watching you so closely like he was afraid you’d run again. But given your current record, you couldn’t blame him. At this point, you’d probably run more times than you’d stayed.

“We should get you into some dry clothes, before you get sick or something,” he said suddenly.

“I just need to go get my guitar from-”

You didn’t realize he’d already grabbed it until he held the guitar case up, “This all you brought?”

“I didn’t really know if I’d be welcome,” You shrugged, “If not, I figured at least I could play the airport blues while I waited for the next flight.”

“Did you seriously think I wouldn’t want you here?” He questioned.

“A lot can change in a year, Tyler. I honestly didn’t even know if I’d come back at all until-”

“Until Jamie called you,” he finished for you.

“You know about that?”

There was a type of sadness in his eyes, “Yeah, he told me,” he reached for you again, one hand on your waist and the other cradling your cheek, “I intend on spending every day proving to you that I am not the guy that made you write that album, not anymore. I never wanted to be that guy.”

“I know you didn’t Tyler. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s really not. I hurt you.”

“Tyler, I just had the most successful year of my career. The events that lead to it were fucking horrible. But I was nominated for a fucking Grammy,” You explained, “So yes, it hurt like hell, but good things came from it, and we still found our way back to each other in the end.”

He smiled, genuinely this time, “I’ve missed you so damn much.”

“I’ve missed you too dumbass.”

The next morning you and Tyler sat outside playing with the dogs. You’d almost forgotten how nice it was to just sit out in the morning sun, watching as he ran wild with the three pups. The sight never failed to make you smile. He always seemed so happy and at ease with them. You’d genuinely forgotten how happy he was like this.

“Go get mama!” he egged them on.

“Oh no! Mama needs more coffee,” You sighed, getting up from your chair, “I’ll be back.”

“Hey!”

“What Ty?”

“I’ve missed seeing you in my clothes.”

You laughed and quickly kissed him before slipping back inside. You didn’t go right back out. Instead, you stood at the door for a while and just watched. How many mornings had you spent just like this over the years? Woken up right next to him and laughed at his fluffy bedhead? You didn’t think you’d get the chance to do it again, yet here you were, almost as if no time had passed.

Slowly, you made your way to what used to be your music room. You didn’t expect any of your stuff to still be there. You figured he would’ve packed it all up a long time ago. But your piano was still set up in front of the window, with several of your notebooks thrown on top of it. You wouldn’t have thought that he would’ve moved a thing, aside from the fact that it was still spotless.

You smiled to yourself and sat down. You set your coffee cup in the window sill after cracking the window to let a little breeze in. You closed your eyes as you felt the keys of your piano and began to play. You didn’t think, instead, you just let the music flow out of you.

You almost jumped when you felt Tyler’s hands on your shoulders. You hadn’t even realized that you’d stopped playing. You also hadn’t realized that he’d come back inside. You turned around to face him.

“Did you just write that?” he asked.

“No, I wrote it not long after the Dallas concert,” You replied, “Already planning on it being on the next album.”

“I love you,” You knew he meant it, without a doubt.

“I love you too.”

You glanced over at the clock on the wall to see what time it was, “You know, we could go back to bed, I think we have plenty of time before you have to go to the rink.”

He leaned down to kiss you, “I think that is the best idea you’ve had all day.

Next thing you knew, he was scooping you up in his arms and making his way back towards the bedroom. You couldn’t help but laugh when you heard the dogs whining at the backdoor, obviously upset that they’d been left outside.

You were home though, quite literally back in the arms of the man you loved. And that night you went to his game in his jersey and cheered him on every second that he was on the ice. You felt like you were whole again. No more missing pieces. No more chasing after something that you could never quite reach.

In the following months, you were asked a lot of questions about your relationship with him, especially after you decided to move back to Dallas, and then to Toronto during the offseason. But you knew that wherever he was, was where you needed to be.

Two years later, you sat on the bed with your guitar as you had so many days. You leaned back against Tyler’s chest and hummed. You’d never quite get used to this again, mostly because you didn’t want to take a second of it for granted. You didn’t want to forget a single moment with him.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, ducking his head down to kiss your shoulder.

“Nothing, I’m just happy,” You replied, “And just thinking about us.”

“Oh? What about us exactly?”

“How far we’ve come, what comes next. Normal shit, I guess,” you joked.

“I have a pretty good idea of what comes next,” he replied softly.

“Mmm, and what’s that?”

“Marry me,” He whispered into your ear.

You quickly turned in his arms. There wasn’t any sense of doubt anywhere on his face. You’d never thought he’d be the one to finally settle down. You certainly didn’t think that it’d be anytime soon. In fact, you figured he’d get another dog before he even dreamed of proposing to you. Yet, as you sat there, all tangled up in his arms and the sheets, there was only one thing you could say.

“Okay.”

When you look at me, and the whole world fades, I’ll always remember us this way.

#tyler seguin imagines #tyler seguin imagine #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fanfic #nicolewritesthings

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acrcsstheuniversee · 5 years ago

Text

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, readers 18+

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of porn and sex work

Words in this chapter: 1800+

Author’s Note:

Here it is! Refer to my summary and introduction post if you haven’t done so for more disclaimers, visuals, tag list info, and more.

*Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles. This is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of the story will not be historically accurate and should not be taken extremely seriously.

Chapter 1

Already a month into the semester, Paul found himself struggling to keep up with his studies. He tried his best to focus on typing an essay on the history of guitars that’s due the next day by 10 a.m. but just couldn’t get himself to do it. Not like it was hard or anything; he just hated doing what he’s told, especially if it was something he didn’t care about. He just wanted to do music but having a degree is a necessity now.

He pressed the home button on his cracked phone screen to see that it was already midnight. He was only half way done with the assignment that could’ve taken him only 30 minutes if he wasn’t writing songs in between paragraphs.

It was all too much anyways. American universities have much more homework assignments than back in England. Times like these made him question whether or not going out of the country for school was worth it. There almost seemed like there were more cons than pros in his decision. He lacked resources, he didn’t have any friends or family here except his roommate/best friend George, he was poorer than ever, and must work and attend school part-time. If he stayed in Liverpool and just continued school locally, he probably would’ve earned his degree by now; but now he’s what Americans consider a “super senior” because he’s 21 years old with the amount of classes completed equivalent to a third year student. Despite the struggle, all of it was better than his father dictating his every move.

He shut his laptop, giving up on the assignment and leaned back into his desk chair, rubbing his tired droopy eyes.

He had two classes and work tomorrow. The thought of them made him roll his eyes. Music history from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., a business class he couldn’t remember the name of from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., and work right after at a restaurant nearby as a dishwasher, and occasionally performer if the artist they booked cancelled that night.

He yawned as he got up and slide into his bed. Before shutting his eyes, he turned his head and looked directly across the tiny dorm room to his right to see his childhood best friend and roommate, George Harrison sound asleep.

Paul really needs to take a note out of George’s book and sleep earlier. These late nights are just stressing him out more and more.

***

“Paul….. PAUL! Get up!”

Paul jolted up right when a sudden raised voice rang in his ear. His eyes met George’s signature judgemental look. One of his thick brows cocked and his lips curved awkwardly. He was already ready to go to class.

“Ah, what time is it?”

“9:30. I woke you up 30 minutes before hand because I just know you aren’t going to get up to the 9:45 alarm unless you expect to make it to your first class in 15 minutes,” George teased.

George is a pain in the ass and a know-it-all, but Paul loved him dearly. He comes off mean sometimes but Paul knows it’s just because he’s younger and feels the need to prove himself. Paul was used to it after all this time but sometimes, that boy needs to know when his criticisms cross the line. Despite being a dick sometimes, they’re both grateful to be going to the same college together. It was one in a million chances for George to land the same US college as Paul just a year after Paul’s acceptance.

“Okay, whatever. You have a point, I guess.” Paul groaned and rolled out of bed.

“I know I do, ha. I’ll see you later.” George messed up his friend’s darkhair more than it already was, making Paul swat his hand away.

When George left, Paul finally got ready and headed off to class with his incomplete essay.

Everyone was already seated and the professor was setting up today’s powerpoint lecture when he finally arrived. Paul sat down in the back where he’s been since the beginning of the semester. It hasn’t been a problem until a girl started to sit near him everyday since last week. When group or partnered work was assigned, she would often ask him to join her. She was kind, but Paul knew she liked him. She couldn’t make it less obvious. They would make small talk here and there---just about classes and hobbies. She was also very good at piano just as Paul was, but not too good on guitar though she claims to be.

He felt her looking at him, making him turn his head to find out he was right. She just smiled and waved. Paul nodded and gave her a small smile in return, trying not to show too much emotion, afraid she would like that too much. She already had the wrong idea but he didn’t want to be mean about it. Paul was not interested in the slightest and, he was gay. Found that out in high school and hasn’t been too shy about it since then.

When class ended, Paul left immediately to his second class to avoid conversation with anyone. This next one was business related which is something he also could care less about. He was a bit behind in this one too, but this time, he truly didn’t understand the material. He definitely needed a tutor soon.

Not much happened other than him writing mini poems all over his in-class assignment. He didn’t even bother erasing any of it before turning it in at the end of class.

Paul sighed as he made himself to his busboy job right off campus. Before stepping inside, he felt his phone vibrate. It was his dad. Ugh, he thought but answered.

“I’m about to go into work, Dad. What is it?”

“Well, hello to you too. I was just wondering how the first month in the states have been. I haven’t heard from you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? Have you got a chance to tour places? You should send me photos.”

“No and no. I don’t want you to be sending the pictures to your friends as if you helped me get here. I know you do that.”

Paul heard his father sigh.

“Just text me when you get home and tell George I said hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Paul said before hanging up and walking into his shift.

It seemed harsh but his dad was a selfish prick. He loves to be in control of everything. He was the reason Paul came to the states to study. All he wanted was to ride the wave of success his two sons have been achieving.

In all truthfulness, Paul stopped believing his dad’s bullshit after mom died about 6 years ago. His dad seemed to have lost his way but Paul couldn’t be around all the time if he had a dream to follow. It’s been rough without his mom around but Paul had to do what he was right for him, even if that meant getting away from his dad which is something even she would’ve supported.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how irritating school and his dad were during his shift. The rude coworkers and customers didn’t help his case at all. This wasn’t new though. Paul was used to working constantly in some shape or form. The only problem this time is that he needed more money now that he’s completely independent from his father.

“Hey, busboy!” his boss called out to the dishroom from the back office. Paul rolled his eyes and went to see what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“I have to cut your hours in half. Here is your new schedule. You’re off now, so don’t wash another dish.”

“In half?” Paul took the schedule and saw that his income now would not suffice his monthly tuition payments, let alone some money for necessities. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Why?”

“We can’t afford to pay you. I’m sorry, kid.” he said nonchalantly.

“Will I be able to perform sometimes still?”

“Ehh, sure.” he said as he continued his paperwork, not even looking at Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes again. Could his life get any more annoying? He let out a sigh and clocked out. Now what, he thought making his way home.

When he got home George was playing his computer games with his big headphones to fit on his large ears. The younger man didn’t even notice his friend come in until one side of his headphones was pulled and slapped against his head.

“Hey!” George readjusted himself then paused his game to face Paul with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“My hours got slashed.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, hah.”

George frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you going to find another job?”

“Well, I’m going to have to because I will not be asking my dad for help.” Paul said as changed into his pajamas and hopped onto his bed.

George sighed. Paul just stared at his friend for a moment, not knowing what to say. This was bad news for both of them. George didn’t have the same financial issues as Paul did. He only had enough for himself. If George could help, he would---and Paul knew he would.

“I’ll think of something, George. Don’t worry.” Paul got under the covers and listened to his friend shut off his computer and lights before hopping into bed as well.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed, then began to think about all the ways he can make money quickly but none of it would be fast enough to pay his next tuition bill. He rubbed his eyes. It was beginning to stress him out the more he thought of it and he just wanted it to all stop for a second.

Ah fuck it, he thought before whipping out his phone and started to scroll through his favorite porn blog on Tumblr. What better way to forget about things than looking at some sexy pictures of guys?

Paul scrolled until he ran into a post that was by a male sex worker selling nude photos and thought hard to himself. It was a young guy about his age selling his photos for $25 a piece and a private snapchat story for $5 per friend request and $15 extra for screenshot privileges.

Paul bit his lip nervously. It’s been a couple years since he did sex work. All he did was some cam work, sold some nude photos, and made customized videos for people on the internet. He remembered enjoying it but there was always the parts he hated that made the job extremely draining like any other job.

He laid there staring at the screen. He must admit, it was tempting to dive in again but he was afraid what George would think.

“George… Maybe I should go back into sex work…” Paul said suddenly.

George didn’t reply. He just snored in in response. That bastard.

Paul sighed and continued to scroll through sex work blogs, inspired by the possibilities until he slowly drifted to sleep.

Tag list:

@nowandthenoldfriend

#acrcsstheuniversee fanfics #acrcsstheuniversee #acrcsstheuniversee mature #acrcsstheuniversee gefm #the beatles #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #the beatles smut #the Beatles fluff #paul mccartney #john lennon #ringo starr #george harrison #classic rock

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dasfuzzy · 5 years ago

Text

This thing still exists...?

So...I guess I'll start off by saying that the main reason for this post is because I got the Tumblr app a while back and have periodically gotten the notification that someone has liked my blog (hello, by the way), so this is twofold:

1) Give an update because, y'know, I haven't touched this thing in a long time, so there's a lot to update, and

2) Find out who's been liking my blog and why. So I guess comment, message, note, or whatever the hell people do here and let me know what got you interested in my ramblings.

I guess the three main things I would discuss here were my job, my love life, and my situation in general, so those'll be the primary focus for now. I guess I'll start with my love life just to get that out of the way as it's typically the focal point and most salacious content here (and possibly the most interesting to y'all).

Well, I'm gonna tell you right off the bat that things have changed drastically since I last was here. I will say that if you're expecting me to tell all, you're gonna be disappointed. I know in the past I never really held back on my feelings and about dishing out the truth, but this is a different situation than any in the past. All I'll really say is that since August of 2017 I've been in a committed relationship with someone that I truly love and can see myself being with for the rest of my days. Our relationship hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows, however, mostly due to nagging injuries and surgeries stemming from a work-related injury on her part (she used to be a physical therapy assistant), but I've done everything in my power to accommodate her and make things work. It hasn't been easy and it's taken it's toll on me, but at the end of the day I try to remain optimistic that things will get better with time.

Regarding my job...er, jobs, I've bounced around a bit since I was last here. I think I was still at Dave & Busters, but I was able to leave there to become a preschool/toddler teacher at a highly-accredited daycare center called Bright Horizons. It wasn't the easiest job and with me being who I am (profane and a fan of mature content, a la Game of Thrones, Walking Dead and wrestling) I felt like I was walking on eggshells at times, especially because the director was a bit of a prude, but I really enjoyed it. I was one of only two male teachers in a facility of approximately 30 teachers, so the kids really enjoyed the change of pace. I learned a lot being there, especially since I only had a few early education courses under my belt beforehand and I had some great mentors guiding me along.

Unfortunately, I made the decision to leave after 18 months for a couple of reasons:

1) The landlady finally sold the house, so my mom and I had to move (more on that later), and

2) There was an incident where I might've let slip a bit of profanity on the job. Basically it was nap time and most of the children were sleeping. I was in one of the preschool rooms at the time and at that age, some children just don't want to sleep, so we have to either try to soothe them or at least do what we can to keep them quiet so they don't wake the other children up. So I'm with another, younger teacher sitting with the non-sleepers, one of which was on the autistic spectrum and had an action plan in place that inform us of what we can and cannot do in certain situations that normally wouldn't apply to other children. Anyways, that particular child was not having any of nap/quiet time and decided to start walking around the room. In my frustration, I might've uttered under my breath "what the fuck". A few days later, I get a call from the director and she asks me if I used any profanity while in the classroom. I tell her that I don't recall doing so; she tells me that another teacher informed her that I had and she would need me to type up a formal statement of what I recall from that particular event. I stuck to my guns and said that I honestly don't recall doing so and, after submitting that to her, I was put on an indefinite administrative leave. As much as I loved that job, I took that as a sign that maybe it was time to find another job, something that pays better because I knew I was going to be moving within the next few months.

On the first day of my "leave", I asked friends if they knew of any good-paying jobs that had openings. I was only making $12.40/hr, which is only $.40 over minimum wage, so I was definitely open to suggestions. My best friend told me to apply to where he worked, Fitzgerald Tile, because they were looking for warehouse workers. He said they could start me at $18, so I leapt at the opportunity. I went down that Monday and met the warehouse supervisor to have an interview. I'll give you an almost word-for-word retelling of how that interview went:

Him: "Do you know how to drive a forklift?"

Me: "Yeah."

Him: "Great, you're hired."

Me: "Oh...okay."

Okay, that might be stretching it a bit, but that was more or less how it went. Really, he outlined some of the basic duties, asked if I was able to lift up to 50lbs unassisted, know that I'm expected to work 50 hours a week, then had me fill out the application, mostly for the sake of having it on file. He told me that I would just have to meet with the HR person to finalize the paperwork and discuss pay and my schedule, then I'd be good to go. Here's the thing: I never got to talk to the HR person. Ever. I was waiting for over an hour then told that we could do it another time, so I just went home. I should've noticed how sketchy the whole thing was. I should've picked up on all the red flags, but I didn't. So I go home, call my boss, and tell her that I'm giving my two weeks notice. She obliges and I ask if I could come visit down the road. She says that it would be in the best interest of the children that I stay away so they don't get the wrong idea. Basically I haven't been back there besides one time when I stopped by after hours to catch up with my favorite colleague and mentor, Jen.

Anywho, here I am on November 19th at the asscrack of dawn starting at the tile warehouse. I meet with the warehouse supervisor (I don't fucking remember his name; he's honestly not worth remembering) and he asks if I know how to drive a forklift. Uh...we talked about that when you hired me, but anyways, I say yes. "Great. Hop on, drive around a bit, get a feel for it, then get to work." Um...I dunno about those guys, but when I was at Lowe's where I learned to drive a forklift, we had to be licensed to operate one. Not to mention if they bothered to do a background check, they'd learn that I was fired from there for getting into an accident on a forklift and causing damage to a bay door. But I do as they say; I grab an order sheet ("grab the biggest ones first", they tell me) and get to it. Basically the way they run things is they put the sheets out on a table, everyone grabs one, gathers everything up on a pallet, then drop it in the outgoing delivery area, then do it all again until every order has been filled. I should also mention that I started right as they were moving warehouses to North Reading, so after the orders were pulled, we had to get other pallets ready to ship to the new place. Remember how I said I was never able to talk to the HR person? Well, I was never given a schedule because of that, so I guess it was understood that I would come in at 7 in the morning and work until everyone was done, which typically wasn't until 8 or 9 at night. I adhered to that mindset for maybe a week and a half; after that, I started sneaking out after at least doing my 8 hours a day. One day the supervisor caught me and said that I can't do that again. I didn't give a fuck. Another day he tells me that I'm not working fast enough and need to step it up. Maybe if someone took the time to train me on the other lift that was smaller and had forks that extended, I'd be able to be more efficient, but no; the only machines I could use were the huge lifts that are barely able to maneuver in the narrow fucking aisles and the order picker, which is basically a standing lift with a small tray-sized platform that you could place stuff on and lower it back down. That thing was kinda fun because it had controlls that kinda felt like piloting a mech and it was fast as hell.

Fast forward a few days and a few hours into my shift the supervisor tells me that I'm being let go and he hands me my last check and a pamphlet for unemployment benefits. No reasoning, just that I'm gone. Probably because I was "working too slow" and would leave when I felt like it, but I could give two shits; they never cared about me and I was tired of working under those unreasonable conditions. I manage keep my composure and start heading out, telling the few friends that I made there that I was fired; they wished me well and said I'd move onto something better. No shit. Once I get to my car, I burst out crying, trying to comprehend the gravity of my situation. I text my girlfriend and she asks if I want to come over to her house; I do partly because I needed the emotional support and partly because she was only 5 minutes away and my drive home would've been about 30 minutes. Honestly, I probably could've reported them to OSHA since they were in violation of god knows how many rules and regulations (hell, during the first week at the new warehouse, someone managed to destroy an entire bay: 3 shelves with 4 pallets each, totalling I believe over $6000 worth of product), but I just wanted to wash my hands of that place entirely. Since it was mid December, I decided to just take time to enjoy the holidays before looking for a new job, especially since I had made enough money there to keep myself afloat for about a month.

So, regarding the move, mom and I spent the last few years looking for places nearby for when the time came, but a lot of places were either in undesirable towns, were too expensive (this is Massachusetts; rent prices suck balls), or didn't meet our needs/standards. Ideally we were aiming to find a small house or even duplex to move into since we'd been in a 2-story, 3-bedroom house since January 2001, but we ended up settling for a 2-bedroom apartment in a small complex in Reading. It's been a bit of an adjustment for many reasons, but we've made it work. One of the biggest annoyances is that we don't have any laundry machines in our unit or even our building, so if we have to wash our clothes, we need to bring our stuff to one of the neighboring buildings that has a credit card-opperated laundry room with seven washers and 8 dryers. Kinda obnoxious to have to go through all that trouble and pay to do it, but condidering heat, hot water, and facility maintenance and snow removal are all covered in our rent (which is $1750/month), it's a small price to pay, I suppose.

Once we got all settled into the new place, I started job hunting again. For years I've wanted to do something technical, like be a plumber or maintenance engineer, but it's nigh impossible to find entry-level jobs like that. I somehow managed to find a job posting on Craigslist for a preventative maintenance engineer at a hotel in my old hometown of Woburn (ironically it's across from my old Dave & Busters), put in an application, and about a week later I had the job. Basically what I do is go through the guestrooms and make sure everything is in working order and is clean. I do about 2 rooms a day, repairing things as needed, be it electrical, plumbing, painting, or whatever else. I started back in early February of this year and in April the chief engineer was unceremoniously fired, leaving me as the sole engineer at the hotel. We had outside help come in periodically, but generally speaking I was the one keeping the place together until we hired a new chief this past October. I had to learn how to take care of an outdoor pool and how to take readings on it daily. I had to represent my hotel at engineer trainings normally meant for chiefs. Hell, I was very close to being promoted to chief myself until they found the new guy. But my efforts weren't in vain: our scores from our guest surveys for maintenance and upkeep were always above expectations and everyone at the hotel appreciate and respect what I do there. They raised my pay as high as they could go because of the amount of work I was putting in. My boss even got me two $75 tickets to a Ring of Honor show since he was a wrestling fan like myself. I think it's safe to say that I definitely bounced back from Fitzgerald.

I guess that about wraps things up. It's currently two weeks until Christmas, so I've got that to look forward to. I'd apologize for the lengthy rant, but I think that's par for the course on my blog. Again, if you're new (or even if you're not), feel free to leave a comment, note, message, or whatever and let me know what brought you to my blog or if there's any questions, comments, or suggestions for things that I could discuss. I figure I've been away from this thing for a long time, why not be a bit more active. Anyways, that's all I got for now. Hope y'all are well; take care of yourself!

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derangedangel · 6 years ago

Text

An Artist and her Muse - Klaus Mikaelson

Summary: You have an art show and Klaus comes to show his support

Klaus Mikaelson x reader

Word Count: 1,807

Author’s Note: This is based off of the video for Trey Songz’s Love Faces. I’d link it (and my masterlist) but Tumblr is still tripping. There was also another inspiration for this that I won’t spoil for you but I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Also, this is about as steamy as an imagine will get for me.

You were particularly nervous about this exhibit. It was a little different from your normal work so you were anxious about what everyone would think. One of your friends told you not to worry. The work was good. Everyone’s work grew and evolved. It’s a part of the process.

Art was subjective and everyone had their own opinions on it. As long as you liked it, it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thought. Except this was your lively hood, so you hoped people would purchase them.

You walked around the room with an air of confidence. The click of a good pair of heels always made you feel powerful. Plus the newly purchased black dress you were wearing helped too.

The couple you were talking to decided to by the piece you just explained to them. You pointed to a man a short distance away who would take their money and post a sign saying the art was sold. You stood and admired your work when someone spoke from behind you.

“The artist really out did herself with this one.”

You smiled to yourself not turning around already knowing who it was.

“I think she had a new muse to thank for that.”

Klaus stepped up beside you while you both continued to look at your work.

“Does this muse happen to have a name,” he asked cheekily.

“I’m not sure. Rumor has it, he’s an artist too.”

“He must be incredibly talented for him to have inspired this.”

“I guess he’s okay,” you said smiling. “I heard he challenged her. Made her want to be better. Try new things.”

“He sounds astonishing. A real inspiration,” Klaus replied and you could practically hear his ego getting bigger.

“Eh, I heard he’s pompous and controlling,” you said smiling knowing that would get to him just a little. The smile on his face faltered slightly, his nostrils flaring from your insulting comments. He knew you were just taunting him though.

The two of you turned finally looking at each other. Klaus looked impeccable in his suit and tie. Elijah was the one known for wearing suits, but Klaus could give him a run for his money if he didn’t prefer the comfort of a Henley and jeans.

“You look handsome. Trying to get the next cover of GQ,” you asked with a smile.

“You’re too kind,” Klaus says pressing his hand to his chest. “I should be the one giving you the compliment. You look ravishing, love,” Klaus said as he looked you up and down. His long lashes shielding his crystal blue eyes as he surveyed your body.

“You say that like I’m good enough to eat,” you said tilting your head, making your loose curls cascade to the side.

A devilish grin took over his face. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before Klaus broke the silence.

“I wish we could have come together,” Klaus said in a serious tone.

“I know, but I don’t want this to be about you and me. There are a few supernatural creatures here and some high-brow socialites who know about the supernatural. I don’t want anyone judging my art differently because of us. Or worse, not buying it.”

“You don’t have to worry about money with me, love,” Klaus said stepping in closer to you.

“I can provide for myself Klaus,” you smiled up at him.

“Of course you can, but you shouldn’t have to. I can give you the world and much more.”

You sighed as you gazed into his blue eyes. The same ones that inspired three different paintings you had hanging in the exhibit tonight. “Nik, I-“

“Y/N,” you heard someone say and you took a step back from Klaus. You through on a lackluster smile and pushed your hair behind your ear. Just talking to Klaus shouldn’t have made anyone suspicious, but you weren’t quite ready to have your relationship become public knowledge.

Alexandra, your assistant, came up beside you and said, “There’s another potential buyer who needs a little more convincing for your R.E.M. painting.”

Nodding you replied, “Okay, thank you Alexandra. I’ll be right over.” You turned back to Klaus and spoke. “Get some champagne. Look at some more of the paintings. You haven’t seen them all yet.”

Klaus smiled at you and nodded silently. His hand grazed your lower back before you stepped away causing chills to run up your spine.

You turned and walked away, but before you got too far away, you turned back and said, “And stay out of trouble.”

“Trouble? Me? Never,” he said smirking back at you. You shook your head and made your way over to your potential clients.

You met Klaus at your last art show a few months back. He said he wanted to give his compliments to the artist himself. He told you he was very impressed by your work and admired your use of light and shadows. The two of you began talking about art until it was time to for the exhibit to close. He said he wanted to commission you for some work so you gave him your card, but you were hoping he was going to call for more than business.

For the next hour or so, you were schmoozing with other clients and potential buyers. You networked with some New Orleans’ socialites and thanked your friends for coming. The night was a success and you were happy everyone loved your latest work, but something still felt off.

“Draw me like one of your French girls,” you heard from a low accented voice behind you.

You turned around to see Klaus with his signature smirk. You giggled and shook your head before you spoke. “Niklaus Mikaelson, if I weren’t mistaken I’d say you were trying to flirt with me.”

“Is it working,” he asked raising his eyebrow. He took a step closer to you and you could feel the sexual tension radiating off him. God, this man could destroy you and you would let him.

“Meet me near the bathrooms and I’ll let you know,” you said in a low tone before you turned on your heal and walked away. Klaus just stood there for a moment watching your hips sway as you walked away from him, but he got your hint and made his way over to the hidden spot where you were off too.

For a brief second, Klaus lost sight of you, but you reached your hand out and pulled him into a secluded office space. Both of your eyes adjusted quickly to the dark room. The only light coming in was the street lights and the moon shining in between the blinds over the window. His arms quickly curled around your waist, making his expensive cologne overtake your senses and drowning you.

Desire filled your eyes. There was something about not being able to be next to him or touch him all night that had you on edge.

“Aren’t we feisty tonight,” Klaus teased but loving every bit of what was happening.

“Oh shut up,” you said before you grabbed the lapels of his suit and pulled him into you. Your lips came together in a hungry kiss. The chemistry between you was an inferno. The lingering looks the two of you kept giving each other from across the room whenever your eyes met was killing you. Klaus couldn’t keep his eyes off you all night, so it happened frequently. He grabbed your waist and sat you up on the desk in the middle of the room. A few pens and papers fell to the floor but neither of you cared.

Your teeth pulled at Klaus’ bottom lip making him moan into the kiss. He pulled away and began kissing at your jawline down to your neck. Your hands ran through his curls ruining the work he put into his hair earlier that night. Klaus pulled away but you kept going, your lips now on his neck.

“Love, I think you should be getting back now,” he urged even though by the sound of his voice you knew he didn’t want to stop.

“One more minute,” you said sliding your hand down from his hair to the base of his neck.

“You’re the woman of the hour. This is your art exhibit,” Klaus said while your lips were still pressing against his skin. He pushed you away and looked straight into your eyes. “They’re going to start wondering where you are soon.”

“Ughh,” you moaned, “You’re right.” You hopped off the desk, adjusted your dress, and made sure your curls weren’t out of control. Klaus straighten his suit jacket and slicked his hair back into place. You walked to the door but Klaus grabbed your arm pulling you back into him.

“We’ll finish this rendezvous after your show is over,” he said in a low, seductive voice. He leaned down and gave you a slow peck on the lips. It was more of a tease than anything, but you would take it.

“Let me know when it’s safe to go out,” you said letting go of him to walk to the door. After a few seconds of Klaus using his supernatural hearing, he told you to go, then he followed a few minutes later. There wasn’t much time left for the exhibit, but the minutes felt like hours. You constantly looked around for Klaus and you would always find him already staring at you.

When it was finally over, and there were only a few people mulling around, you made your way to the exit and told the valet to get your driver. Since Klaus couldn’t come with you, he insisted on getting you a driver so you could enjoy the expensive champagne and not have to worry about driving yourself.

The glossy black Mercedes Maybach pulled up to the front of the venue and your driver quickly got out to open your door for you. You step inside while texting on your phone hoping Klaus was nearby. You lost sight of him a few minutes before you decided to leave. When you were fully inside the car you realized you weren’t alone.

“Missed me,” Klaus said from the seat next to you. He had a glass of Bourbon in his hands, already having made himself comfortable.

You smiled at him as he handed you a glass of champagne, knowing you didn’t have enough as not to get tipsy at your own event. You thanked him then took a sip of the bubbly drink, not taking your eyes off of the man next to you for a second. The driver pulled away from the curb as Klaus’ finger found the button that rolled up the partition, a mischievous glint twinkling in his eyes.

#the originals #the originals imagine #the originals fanfiction #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson fanfiction

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