#my setting is a labor of love that i hope to maintain as long as possible

[hotguysfugue]

i am thou, thou art i

a way i’ve best found to characterize an NPC is to perceive them as an agent of a card of the major arcana - it often leads to interesting and diverse personalities that may have not been present otherwise.

and of course, given my adoration of the persona games, this becomes even more relevant to my interests. bonds may have not been formed between the PCs and particular individuals on this list due to various reasons in the same way as the social link/confidant system (including party allegiance/politics or over-the-table interest in a certain character), but i really do feel like this is a good way of assessing major NPCs and how they fit into a greater world.

0. the fool; naïve, wandering, transcendental.

jack frost is the fool, a creature of fey mischief unknowingly trapped into a cloth of bureaucratic fabric. he is the beginning of a heroes’ journey; his refusal of the call catapults his whimsical self into something far darker than he had ever anticipated.

i. the magician; manifestation, conduit, creation.

dr. wyndi čeloscas is the magician, a conduit to the goddess sibyll born to serve many greater than herself. in turn, her actions - the reincarnation of chaos’ child to an angelic form and the gift of mass transit to the world - would spark creation in her wake.

ii. the high priestess; divine, actualization, mysticism.

aryll maledict is the high priestess, a human held so gently by the goddess of adventure becoming a woman deeply inclined to aid those in need. there are few in the world who understand themselves more than those who serve the material, and her love for humanity is divine.

iii. the empress; creativity, beauty, youth.

navi helekas is the empress, as despite their refusal of the masculine and the feminine, they prioritize their outward beauty as a way to pursue paths of greatest success. they endeavor to discover wrongdoing and trap the kingdom into the international criminal court at any means necessary, including an obfuscation of their own identity.

iv. the emperor; stability, logic, leadership.

morpheus torrentum is the emperor, as he shifted from a fellow who was kicked out of his masters’ program to becoming one of the most cited and revered academics that the world had ever seen. in his elder years, he has settled down with his husband and become a central individual for many communities.

v. the hierophant; tradition, organized religion, spirituality.

captain marlene scaffa is the hierophant, representing centuries of continued tradition within the occidental kingdom. though this steadfast devotion to ideals of truth and candor inevitably led to her downfall, she epitomizes the archetype of orthodoxy.

vi. the lovers; unity, guidance, love.

the lovers are represented by two on the same card: carlen the arcanist and cyril the broadcaster. their fates have been entwined since they laid eyes upon one another in that strange coastal town, and their relationship only burned brighter when faced with the strife of the most secure prison in all the multiverse.

vii. the chariot; victory, willpower, courage

karyon beeching is the chariot, a being who led an empire to freedom from tyranny. though his recent years have lost the drive once felt in his youth, his victory stands as a turning point for the rest of the world - a change in era.

viii. strength; fortitude, compassion, love

orion ermendrud is strength, as her ability to remain steadfast in wake of her underdark imprisonment has allowed her to overcome any fear directed her way. she achieved this through aiding her fellow prisoners and concentrating on the one person who would free her from these bonds.

ix. the hermit; wisdom, solitude, introspection

thomas penningon is the hermit, having his youth stolen away by a creature that took him to the feywild on a whim for over a half-century. he wandered and wandered, becoming a dreamwalker and communing with the natural world; by the time he was able to reunite with his sister, he had become truly self-actualized.

x. the wheel of fortune; destiny, serendipity, possibility

kos vessar is the wheel of fortune. his very existence is the keystone on which this plane is balanced on, and his state of being informs the destiny of all who live upon it. despite limited interactions with any at the table, kos is a being from which two long-form campaigns managed to stem.

xi. justice; equilibrium, balance, harmony

dahlia was justice, as in her long life she was able to bring a semblance of balance to the turgid ecosystem that his her hometown. when she was cut down for restoring a series of poisoned wells, the little equilibrium found in the city came to a grinding halt; upon the revelation of her death, so did the peace of her closest allies.

xii. the hanged man; self-sacrifice, patience, divinity.

there are none who represent the hanged man better than urthaz chrestwyth, an archmage who sacrificed everything to allow his found mother immortality. the goddess of suffering consigned him to a fate worse than death - infinite isolation at the heart of the sea’s most dangerous whirlpool - as punishment for allowing a mortal to ascend in such a way.

xiii. death; ending, transformation, cycles of life.

achlýs, goddess of suffering, is death. though she is not responsible for the physical act of dying in the way winter’s lord does, she has been the catalyst for an uncountable number of transformations (whether physical or moral). she is the change of a body from living to dead and all the pain that stems from it.

xiv. temperance; balance, virtue, intentionality.

sibyll, goddess of arcana is temperance. as the sole deity who was once mortal, she understands the balance between metaphysical, divine, and mortal rationality that those below need to thrive; she has gifted this understanding to them time and time again. she is far more personal than the pantheonic twelve, and will gift her champions the tools they need to stand in the face of those that seek to upset the balance of the great wheel.

xv. the devil; vice, temptations, addiction.

drifter is the devil in both the physical and moral sense, manipulating other creatures to do his bidding out of sheer boredom. his modus operandi is to entrap youth and to groom them into creatures who enact his will, habitually toying and breaking their spirits.

xvi. the tower; disruption, upheaval, radical change.

in the sole act the table has been privvy to thus far, the tower is the lady maud. she impersonated their closest ally for nearly a month before revealing her true form and utterly eradicating all sense of trust. she brought about the death of a king, causing utter instability in an (admittedly authoritarian) though stable land.

xvii. the star; hope, health, spiritual reflection.

arrah beeching is the star, as her journey dealt with internal and spiritual conflict far more than anyone else’s. upon resolving her conflict with a particular archfey, she found solace with the goddess of adventure and freedom.

xviii. the moon; intuition, danger, deception.

sam the bastard was the moon, a roguish archetype who convinced the destitute to become his underlings before betraying them in stings and setups. before his death, he contracted a great many people into doing his and his masters’ bidding. he considered danger to be intoxicating, engaging in riskier and riskier behaviors prior to his demise.

xix. the sun; success, contentment, material happiness.

the sun is oysters rockefeller, a pirate who found herself stranded with her crew following her pursuit of a hefty paycheck. though she has yet to undergo the same sort of development as many on this list, she is a person whose drive is towards success, happiness, and freedom.

xx. judgment; new epochs, transformation, outcome.

igor was judgment; the warden of the multiverse’s greatest prison was obsessed with the idea that he could bring about a new era of humanity via consuming the fear of all mortals. a child of suffering, he believed that he could usurp his mother’s position by transforming into something far greater than himself - he was thwarted.

xxi. the world; enlightement, oneness, divinity.

the world is the end of a cycle, and the erlkönig (despite his many, many faults) represented this shift to a divine singularity. he was singlehandedly responsible for many of the plane’s problems through incredible manipulation, and was eventually able to ascend to godhood through the aid of his cultists around the world. though he would be defeated by mortals and the god of fate, his ascension and eradication marked the end of thousands of cycles that he put into place.

though these names may not mean much to anyone beyond my table, i really think that this sort of categorization is extraordinarily helpful to my understanding of my own characters as they fit inside of my setting.

[daycourtofficial]

peppermint latte with marshmallows 🥹🥹🥹 I just know Lucien’s first time meeting Atlas was so heartbreakingly cathartic… can we get an emotionally devastating insight into him holding and meeting Atlas was like my saviour 

Okay bestie this was so 😭🥹 to write

Order your own coffee for Gingerfucker week from this menu ❣️

Peppermint latte with marshmallows = Lucien and Atlas fluff

The Forest House was warmer than his memories of it. The walls colored more black and dreary in his mind, memories of cruelty darkening the vibrancy of Autumn.

He stood just before the doors to the dining hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the air. Pumpkin pastries were calling out to him, his stomach nearly growling in desperation for the sweet treat of his childhood.

Mere hours ago his nephew was born. A tiny thing who looked just like every other Vanserra: bright red hair and some unseen determination.

Eris had arrived quickly after Eris’s invitation, hoping to fill the house with people his mate loved, everyone rotating in and out to talk to her before her labor began.

But that was twelve hours ago. Lucien slept in his old room last night, his head slightly throbbing from the bottle of wine he found hidden in the floorboards. His arrival yesterday felt grand - a new babe nothing short of a miracle for fae. But he woke up this morning feeling out of place and couldn’t quite shake it.

He grabbed a pastry, opting out of sitting at the magnificent table. It was stunning - thousands of years old, beautifully maintained oak.

“Lucien.” Eris’ voice was colored with surprise,

“I didn’t expect you to still be around.”

He grinned, raising his pastry in a toast. “I couldn’t leave without my favorite breakfast treat.”

Eris’ face was lined with exhaustion, but he looked almost brighter.

“I should be off.” He had no idea why he lingered overnight, unable to shake the draw of his childhood home.

“Will you see them before you leave?” He hadn’t planned on it, wanting to slip out unnoticed, an exit strategy leftover from his younger years.

“Is she awake?”

“Yes, they both are. There is no telling when Atlas will fall asleep again, though.” His brother beamed with pride at the mention of his son,

Lucien took the long route, taking his time climbing the stairs of the Forest House. They seemed much grander in his memories, even though he was well into adulthood when he left.

The walls were different - covered in paintings depicting more than just his birth court. They showed several courts - landscapes depicting a snowy night, one showing nothing but the radiant colors of Starfall.

He knocked on the door, entering after a soft voice gave him permission.

“Lucien, you rat. I didn’t know you were here.”

You looked radiant in the large, red chair. It’s surprising how long it took Lucien to realize the mating bond between his brother and you because red hues always seemed so natural against your skin.

“Come, sit.” You looked to the spot next to you on the couch, the ornate red fabric groaning beneath his weight. “And how are you?”

“You just had a babe and you’re asking me how I am?”

“Well, Lucien, I thought it was obvious how I was doing.” He couldn’t help the smile he cracked. “I’m alright, I suppose. The house looks better with you around.”

“Well, Beron wasn’t exactly known for his interior decorating, was he?” Your joke ignited something in Lucien’s chest, his long presumed father’s name not quite carrying the same weight it did when he was alive.

“Do you want to hold him?” He’s not sure if you noticed where his mind went, but he was thankful for the distraction, nodding.

Lucien looked down at the impossibly small thing, the hair even brighter than he remembered from the brief glimpses he got.

“Yeah, alright. Hand him over.”

He moved slowly as he grabbed Atlas, the tiny thing hardly caring as he shuffled into a new set of arms.

Lucien could define his brother into two people: the Eris that he knew as a child, who lifted him high into the air, helping hjm reach as high as possible for apples in the back orchard.

And then there was the Eris their father wanted him to be. The one who said and committed so many atrocities Lucien wasn’t sure where his influence began and ended in Prythian.

They were both just babies once, depending on someone else to teach them how to love and be loved.

Marigold always taught Lucien how to love. There were always glimpses of estrangement between Marigold and his brothers. They all loved her, but she always kept them at a distance.

“He looks just like Eris.”

“That’s what everyone is saying.”

By the gods was he beautiful. Just like his eldest brother in so many ways.

“He’ll be a great male.”

Lucien didn’t know which one he was talking about.

[cliickermiller]

Could I request a Joelxreader where the reader moves to Jackson and is super sweet and loves to bake things for everyone in town as a thank you for allowing her in and at first Joel rejects their offerings because they’re suspicious of them which makes the reader continue to try and bake things for him, finally he accepts and starts opening up to them and offering to help reader with any labor they need done which leads to them sharing a kiss and maybe starting a relationship

mean spirits and bread cakes - Joel Miller x Reader

A/n: Woohoo first request, I was a little hesitant at first because I want to make sure my requests are written like my stories, with feeling and detail and I hope I accomplished that by the end of this story so just let me know how i did :)

Whenever you were brought into Jackson you were met with guns in your face, mainly by two men but one of them was a lot more lenient with you staying there, You believed that his name was Tommy, he welcomed you after the initial questions and tests and set you up with you own little room, it wasn't big or much but he said it was temporary until another unit opened up. For now you made due, using your time mainly in the kitchen helping the others prep meals for the town and other things, once Tommy helped move you into your new home, which just needed repaired, you quickly made to work making a little farming area outside.

It had been a couple weeks since you finally got your own home, you hadn't really baked since you moved in, trying to help the others out as much as you could, while still maintaining your food source in your backyard. Over the weeks you had met somebody named Joel, who you learned was the other man holding the gun in your face. He was closed off, at least to you, you always say him talking with Tommy and laughing with a teenage girl who you assumed was his daughter. You learned later that her name was Ellie, she was sweet and always came over first thing in the morning to help you bake for the other residents of Jackson, props she didn't really help baking but she watched you and learned how to do it while keeping you company and being a taste tester for you different treats.

"Y/nnnn! What're we bakin today?" Ellie cheered walking into your kitchen smiling brightly "We are making a strawberry bread cake with freshly grown ingredients and I finally made the perfect flour substitute so now maybe your grump of a father will accept them" You proudly stated smiling at the girl, watching as she giggled loudly "Joel is-.." She stopped, what was Joel to her? A father? A father figure? or just some guy who takes care of her? "Yea..yea Joel is a tough cookie to crack" She smiled using your phrasing from the other day "Alright, now, let's get started on mixing dry ingredients, I wanna make sure all these cakes are done by the time the patrols get back" You smiled watching as she took her usual seat on the counter next to your sink to watch you bake. You house was nice, you could tell whoever built it and the other houses knew what they were doing, you never thought you'd live with water or electric again but whenever you found Jackson that was the first thing you noticed.

After almost six hours of baking you were done, you liked doing it though, it gave you time to talk with Ellie, the first child you spoke with since the fall, and considering you were a middle school teacher it pained you seeing all the kids that turned infected; plus it helped feed the community, you weren't taking out of their found resources either, you grew it all and happily contributed it throughout the town, it was the only real way you knew how to pay them back for letting you stay, there weren't many kids, you weren't physically capable of going and fighting clickers like the others, so you stuck with helping them build/setup new cabins and cook little treats for everybody. Ellie filled the time with telling you the story of how she met Joel and how she wishes he was actually her father, how she always longed to have an adult go out their way to protect her, so she didn't have to learn at such a young age. You felt bad for her, Ellie was a sweet but stubborn girl, she reminded you of your younger sister. "Well....I'm happy you've made to here, Ellie, And I'm glad through your journey you found somebody like Joel..He sounds like an amazing man" You smiled placing the small cakes into separate containers, Deep down you know Joel had to of had someone before Ellie that he cared about that much, considering this was the first group of men you found that weren't ravaging assholes and that fact he went across the country and only kept Ellie's best interest in mind really showed his true colors.

Ellie shrugged a bit shoving some containers into her bookbag ready to help you pass them out, "I guess I kinda owe it to him? He helped me get this far I probably would've died by now" She mumbled, you offered her a kind smile wrapping an arm around hers to lead her outside to start your rounds. It probably took another hour to hand them out and you and Ellie still have 4 more containers together to pass out, splitting down the main road you stopped at the house you knew would be a problem, you didn't know why you still tried giving things to Joel, he always declined and acted like you were carrying the next world ruining virus and were ready to kill all. Looking up on the porch you saw him sitting in a rocking chair with his guitar propped on his lap "Hi.." You mumbled slowly stepping up on the porch "What're you doing here, y/n?" He grumbled, you frowned "I uh..-um.." You were stuttering, after hearing Ellie's stories about him you felt nervous under his watch, flustered. "Spit it out. I gotta start lookin for Ellie soon" He huffed sitting up straighter "Oh! E-Ellie she helped out today again..I wanted to drop off a strawberry- uh- bread cake" You stuttered watching him furrow his eyebrows "Don't you know flower started this entire damn mess?" He snapped standing up "N-No! I uh, I've been finding other things, not containing wheat t-to make a substitute for the flour.." You rambled, a little worried by the tone and body language, He looked around, catching eye of Ellie talking to Tommy stealing a piece from his food container and walking towards the cabin. "I don't want it" He huffed before going back inside, leaving you on the porch alone, you huffed, not letting his mean spirit get you down to happily pranced to Ellie "I'll see you later alright, hun? You need anything you know where to find me"

You woke up the next morning to Ellie pounding on your bedroom door, what the fuck? Getting up in a rush you swung the door open looking at her "You weren't awake whenever I knocked on the door and I got worried you left in the night a-and when the door was locked I-I thought you got infected or died" She rambled before hugging you tightly, you hugged her back tired and confused, the moment that really woke you up was Joel standing in your hallway peeking through the doorway "S-Sorry..Whenever you didn't answer I got Joel..." she whispered "N-no hun that's okay, no reason to be sorry, you were worried" You said rubbing her back before pulling away wrapping the blanket you had around your body before leading them both back out to your living room. "Ellie...you gotta help Maria today..better get on that" Joel said lowly, motioning her out of the cabin before closing your door sighing. "She cares about you" He said finally, turning around to look at you, you still had horriendous bed head and you looked like you just climbed out from under a rock (In your defense it was the best sleep you've ever had)

"I care about her..She's a sweet girl..one of the only people left her age that actually care about what's left in humanity" You whispered calmly going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water "She's cared about a lot of people..most em have died..so..whenever she cares about...un-infected she cares alot" Joel said, you nodded understanding what he was saying "I've noticed..I've seen kids deal with loss and grief...most grow resentment towards others..-" Joel cut you off "-But she's different" You agreed with him picking at your covers "Tried that..damn..strawberry? what the fuck did you call it?" He asked running a hand over his facial scruff "Strawberry bread cake" You whispered trying not to crack a smile, he sat down on the edge of your coffee table sighing "it was good..real good..Was kickin myself most of the night for not trying it sooner" He chuckled embarrassed rubbing the back of his neck "Ellie made you try it didn't she?" You chuckled watching him huff "Damnit she's right you can read people like a damn book" He grumbled before readjusting his sitting position "If..If you keep bringin them little cakes and other things over..I'll be happy to take em..." He smiled softly, You smiled back at him, maybe all Joel needed was an okay from Ellie to be friendly "Mmm..I dunno..I might need compensation now" You teased playfully, Joel laughed shaking his head a bit "How bout this..whenever I'm not on patrols..any hard labor you need done..I'm there" He offered, you smiled nodding "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me" you smiled softly, he smiled looking at you "Ellie..told me about how you guys met..and how you saved her..gotta admit Joel..You are one hell of a man" You smiled softly, he coughed a bit looking down now flustered, you giggled a bit resting a hand on his knee "I'm serious..alot of other men...sadly probably wouldn't of ever left your old QZ with her..you a good man" You whispered, nudging his knee a bit with your hand.

That night would start a landfill of good nights with Joel and Ellie, leading you to one night imparticular. You were standing on Joel's porch, waiting for him to answer the door "Hellooo?" You called sighing softly, almost then the door opened and there stood Joel in a towel with wet hair, panting like he rushed to the door "S-Sorry I can come back another time" You whispered nervously, he ran a hand through his hair "N-No just got a bit worried thinking something bad happened" He said smiling at you in relief "N-No I was gonna see if you were still coming over?...That broken window is bringing in a cold chill" You whispered nervously "oh! oh yea of course, let me...get dressed, come in" He said pulling you inside of his cabin gently before disappearing into his bedroom. You wandered, peeking into his kitchen "Mr. Miller! are you getting a second helping from me after Ellie gives you one?" You called seeing the extra containers in his sink "Totally not! I'm a good man remember?" He asked as he walked out, now dressed with his hair now maintained and under control. "Mmm You can be a good man and still be taking extras" You giggled as he walked closer to you standing by the sink, You didn't realize till now how close the two of you actually were until then, you could feel his breath on your face, not that you were complaining, somehow the man still had minty smelling breath in the end of mankind. "You gonna charge me extra for it?" He asked raising an eyebrow, you looked at him tightening your lips into a pursed line before resting a hand on his shoulder "Maybe...or maybe we could work out a deal?" You teased, trying to keep an upset face, Joel gasped playfully before chuckling "Gonna charge me extra? My little girl is the one who helps pass em out" He laughed leaning closer to you "Oh! So you're taking Ellie's serving" You teased giggling louder, he placed his hands on your waist, causing both of your giggles and chuckles subdue leaving you looking at each other. Joel couldn't help it, After losing Sara's mom, he was convinced he'd never meet anybody as amazing as her, as sweet or kind and yet here you were, and you were breathtaking.

"Joel.." Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he cleared his throat placing a hand on your cheek before kissing you, if it were anybody else you would've pulled away, knocked the dude the hell out for kissing you, but instead you kissed him back, running your hands through his damp hair, he moved his hands back down to your waist picking you up and putting you up on the counter. "How bout..you..start usin my kitchen..give me a chance to see ya everyday" He panted looking at you "Then we don't gotta do the walkin to each others houses and knockin" He continued as you pecked his lips gently "Are you asking me to move in with you sir?" you teased smiling resting your hands on his shoulder "Maybe I am.." He whispered, both of you jumped as the door slammed and Ellie cheered loudly "FUCKING FINALLY!" She yelled jumping up and down in excitement towards her bedroom.

---

soooo how'd i do?

[ejzah]

A/N: I just realized that Kensi’s due date would likely be late December to early January, which aligns with a whole lot of pregnancy fanfics.

***

It’s Baby Time

Deeks whistled softly to himself as he sprinkled a mix of shredded cheese Swiss and cheddar cheese on top of the egg-filled skillet on top of the stove. A couple slices of bread were in the toaster, and should be nicely crispy by the time the eggs were finished.

He heard a soft sound, and looked up finding, Kensi leaning in the doorway. She smiled when he noticed her, coming farther into the room.

“How long you been there?”

“A few minutes,” she answered.

“Well, you have perfect timing, because breakfast is almost ready,” he told her.

“You know, this is everything I’ve ever hoped for,” she sighed, wrapping her arms around Deeks’ waist from behind.

“What, me in my boxers in the kitchen?” he joked.

“Nooo. You cooking us breakfast in our kitchen on a Saturday morning with nothing to interrupt us. Our Pastry Babies.” She kissed the base of his neck, sending a pleasant shiver across his skin. “And also you in your boxers,” she added impishly. One of the hands on his torso crept lower to pass over her stomach.

“Mm, I always knew you married me for the floor show.”

Kensi didn’t protest, one hand drifting up to play in his hair. He made a quiet sound that might sounded embarrassingly close to a purr. “Baby, I love where your mind is going, but you’re gonna need to tone it down before I burn something.”

“Oh, I’m fully confident in your ability to engage in a little…distraction and cook that frittata to perfection,” Kensi disagreed. She eased up anyway, kissing his neck one final time. Deeks missed the press of her bump against his back as soon as it was gone.

She wandered away to let him finish cooking. When he brought their two plates out a few minutes later, she’d settled down at the table, her feet propped up on a second chair while she absentmindedly rubbed the farther point of her stomach.

“Breakfast for my ladybird, Croissant, and Doughnut,” he declared, setting a plate full of eggs, mushrooms, broccoli, onion, and cheese in front of Kensi. She immediately dug in, cutting off a large piece with her for.

“You’re lucky your dad spoils us, otherwise you’d be getting cereal and pop tarts most mornings,” she said after her first bite, speaking directly to her stomach.

Beneath the fabric of her shirt, her stomach moved in a slow wave-like motion as one of the twins responded to her voice. With only a few weeks to left, the babies were especially active, though Deeks couldn’t imagine how they had room to conduct their summersaults and tap dancing sessions.

“Hey, give mom a break. She’s trying to feed you,” he chastised them teasingly. He couldn’t stop himself from brushing his fingers over Kensi’s stomach. He felt an answering push back that he thought might be a head.

“Ooh, that was a good one.” Kensi laid her hand over his, taking a momentary break from her meal. “I swear they act up even more with you.”

Deeks grinned, dipping his head to kiss Kensi’s stomach before he turned to his own plate. Kensi had slowed a little, not having much room for food with two nearly grown babies taking up space, so they finished about the same time.

“You know, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot all the time,” Kensi reminded him when he started to clean up a few minutes later. “I’m supposed to keep moving around. You know Sheila said it would help during labor.”

“And you get that movement during your daily walk. I truly don’t mind at all,” he insisted.

“I know. I just don’t want everything to fall on you all the time.” Deeks raised and eyebrow as though she’d said something ridiculous no she glared back at him. “Marty Deeks, don’t you dare try and pretend that you wouldn’t run yourself completely ragged for us.”

“Maybe just a little,” he admitted. He flashed a winning smile, drawing it out until Kensi couldn’t maintain her glare any longer. “I like to though.”

“Even when it’s three in the morning and these two are tag-teaming diaper changes and feeding?” She pointed at her stomach.

“Especially then.” He knew it wouldn’t be easy, as they’d discussed many, many times, but he truly was looking forward to those late nights. After believing they’d never get to have biological children, he planned to bask in every moment.

It didn’t take that long to straighten up the kitchen again, and as he leaned down to put the skillet back in the oven, he felt a hand slip into his back pocket. Even 8 months pregnant, Kensi Blye could still sneak up on him as well as ever.

He shifted out of his crouch, Kensi moving with him, her hand staying mostly in place. “You looking for something in particular there, Kensalina?” he asked mildly. She squeezed in lieu of answering, letting out a pleased chuckle when his hips jerked back automatically into her hand. He turned around, to face her, finding Kensi grinning up at him.

“I know something else that will keep me active,” Kensi said in a low tone that instantly sent a shiver through him. She crowded him into the corner, between two cabinets, stretching up to kiss him.

Deeks parted his lips, leaning back while Kensi explored his mouth. He settled his hand on her lower back, giving her the freedom to slip her hand under his shirt. Her palm traveled the length of his back, then she tugged insistently at the hem of his shirt, her mouth growing more purposeful against his.

He groaned quietly, unable stop a soft whine from escaping when Kensi pulled away. Her eyes gleamed playfully as she dropped his shirt to the floor, smoothing her down his chest and stomach in a mirror of the path she created on his back. When she reached his hand, she curled their fingers together, guiding him back from the counter.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not what the midwife meant when she said activity,” Deeks drawled, his voice hitching ever so slightly at the way she looked at him.

“Maybe not.” She danced closer for a second, whispering into his ear. “But at least I’ll be laying down.”

***

Kensi woke up in a nest of pillow, the quilt pulled up to her shoulders, and the bed empty. She shifted a little, smiling at the memory of Deeks’ fingers ghosting over her skin. She would have liked to snuggle a little bit, but she knew Deeks had a running list of tasks he wanted to accomplish.

With her due date quickly approaching, they’d spent the last few weeks getting everything ready for the birth. Miraculously, despite the twins and her age, Kensi was deemed a low-risk pregnancy, and they’d ultimately opted for a home birth. Deeks had taken some convincing with that one, but he’d come around once he realized how much more comfortable she was with Sheila compared to the other providers they met with.

They had a section of the garage reserved for the birthing pool (a term that always made Deeks grimace), tarps, jugs of water, blankets, and dozens of other items they would need before, during, and after she gave birth.

Years ago, the thought of all the preparation, making decisions about baby furniture, car seats, and blankets vs. sleep sacks would have overwhelmed her. Now, she found it oddly enjoyable. Maybe it was the further proof of the two little miracles she and Deeks had created.

Shifting closer to the edge of the bed, she finally made a move to get up. She grabbed one of Deeks’ t-shirts on the way to the bathroom, which was just big enough to cover her bump and all the important bits. Though, since it was just her and Deeks around, it didn’t really matter that much.

Kensi puttered around the bathroom while the water warmed in the shower. Really, she’d have liked to take a bath for the dull ache in her back that seemed to be a constant. Instead, she settled for a few stretches and shallow squats, using the vanity for balance.

On her third squat, she felt a strange sensation, almost like a pop, and then a thin stream of liquid ran down her leg. She stilled in mid-squat, staring down at the clear liquid, the pressure in her back suddenly more intense than a few moments ago.

“Well, crap,” she muttered to herself.

***

A/N: I know I’ve written Kensi going into labor before, but I realized now it’s actually canon and had to write it again. And, take the opportunity to continue my twins madness.

Thanks to @mashmaiden for encouraging my insanity!

So sorry for the rather uninspiring title. There will be a second part to this story.

[burningtacozombie]

As the WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes continue on, Danny Pino has been a regular presence on the picket lines around Los Angeles. “I’m here in solidarity, not only with the WGA, SAG-AFTRA, with IATSE, and our brother and sister unions to seek a fair deal,” he explains to Give Me My Remote in the video below. “And to be able to have some longevity, not only for artists and laborers, but for our unions that protect us.”

Pino has steadily worked for over two decades, including more than 150 episodes of COLD CASE and almost 100 episodes of LAW & ORDER: SPECIAL VICTIMS UNIT. In a pre-streaming world, successful shows would be sold into syndication (on local stations, as well as cable networks like USA Network, TNT, TBS, etc.). It would be a win-win-win for talent (who would receive residuals for the re-use of their work), studios (which sold the shows into the lucrative deals), and the channels (who got content without having to shell out the cost of production).

Now, some shows—largely procedurals and some comedies—still get sold into on-air syndication, but a large amount of viewership is coming from streaming…which has notoriously paid pennies, even when shows are breaking records.

For writers/actors/directors—who can go months or years without paying work, as they’re held awaiting production to start back up, auditioning for (or writing/prepping) their next project, and/or promoting something they’ve already completed—the sudden decrease in income has been life-changing.

“Well, that’s simple: residuals are a lifeline,” Pino says. “What actors make as salaries…once that show is canceled, or an actor moves on—what maintains them, what sustains their families, what allows them to send their children to school, what allows them to pay their medical bills, would be residuals.”

“That was true years ago when I first started in the business,” the writer/director/actor continues. “And that has slowly been whittled away to the point where actors can no longer rely on residuals. And that work that we do, that actors have done—that is being replayed and enjoyed by audiences and profitable to these big corporations—it is essentially stealing from an artist to use their likeness, to use their artistry, and to not pay them for that. It is not a handout. It is not something that is generous from the corporations. It is the right thing to do in exchange for the work that we’ve put in.”

Pino points to residuals as one of the key points he’s concerned about in the ongoing labor dispute, but also acknowledges the unknown of AI is a “huge concern.”

“It’s existential, not only for writers, but for actors and for directors as well,” he says. “And for everybody else down the line. The fewer actors that we have on set, whether principal actors or background, the fewer costumers, wardrobe, makeup and hair, gaffers, electricians, all the way down the line. And that is not only existential for SAG-AFTRA and WGA and the DGA, it is existential for the rest of the unions as well.”

The strike comes at a busy time for Pino, who just debuted his short UNIÓN DE REYES at the SAG-AFTRA-approved HollyShorts Film Festival. His long-running series, MAYANS M.C., also aired its final episode days after SAG-AFTRA officially went on strike. (Per SAG-AFTRA strike rules, actors are not supposed to promote past/present/future work for struck companies on social media, which MAYANS would fall under.)

“I so appreciate our fans, who understood why we can’t promote the shows that we love so much,” he says. “All of the time and effort, the vulnerability [and] courage that so many actors have put into our work—and [then] to not be able to be there for the fans and enjoy that work and celebrate it with them. So, I appreciate their understanding and their support as we try and battle [these] very difficult to pin down corporate interests. And I hope that they will—and I trust that they will—be with us once this is all over. [When] we’re able to relate with them, and to continue that dialogue between people who create art and those who enjoy it.”

In the meantime, Pino shares he hopes fans do what they feel comfortable with, solidarity-wise, whether it’s pausing their media consumption or sharing the striking workers’ messages. And, as everyone awaits a fair contract, he notes, “I hope that cooler heads will prevail and a deal will happen sooner than later.”

X - X

[femmefatalevibe]

hi. currently my boyfriend and i planned the decision to move in together. though we honestly have no idea where to begin. the only thing we rlly know at the moment is the fact we want a one bedroom one bathroom. neither one of us have vehicles and are both paying bills/rent at our parents. any advice on how we can even begin this step? i always appreciate your advice that your share on here!!

Hi love! Thanks so much for your kind words and support. Sharing a huge disclaimer here that I've never lived with a romantic partner, so all of these suggestions are based on old roommate experiences and a hypothetical context (I personally would never live with a man I'm seeing, but that's personal preference). Here are some tips/things I would consider:

Discuss and determine why you're choosing to live together and want expectations that sets up in the relationship. Is this mainly a decision you made to give you both more autonomy from your parents/for financial reasons or another life convenience? Are you moving in together with the expectation of engagement/marriage/kids in the future? It's important to be on the same page for why you're choosing to move in together. There's only one wrong answer – it's not right for you as individuals or as a couple

Discuss how you will split costs/finances and division of labor (cooking, cleaning, chores, errands, etc.) ahead of time. Know who is paying for what, and which chores each of you can reasonably commit to doing (if one person hates cleaning/laundry less and the other person doesn't mind cooking and grocery shopping, for example). Considering you don't have any plans set in stone, create a budget for what you can realistically afford rent-wise (with some padding in case, honestly) and the financial situation you would need to maintain both your desired standards of living

State your hygiene dealbreakers upfront, especially regarding the shared bathroom and inside/outdoor allowances (e.g. no shoes inside/outside clothes on the bed, etc.)

Know and respect each other's work and sleep schedules

Prioritize still dating each other – having date nights (whether that's going out together for dinner or a movie or a special night in with a dimly-light homecooked meal and your favorite TV show)

Don't allow your sex life to become an obligation or a routine – have "sleepover" nights scheduled to create anticipation and introduce the fun of a new flame into the dynamic of your long-term if desired

Retain your own hobbies, self-care activities, and social life – still ensure that go to that workout class, watch that TV show only you love alone, get your nails done, go out to dinner with your friends, etc. without your partner. You now spend most of your time together, so make sure not to lose yourself/isolate yourself in your relationship

Be upfront about your social expectations with the other person – are you the type to always want people over/go out with friends or are you more introverted? What about your partner? How about family visitation/expectations for holidays, birthdays, etc.? Make sure you're on the same page or can find a compromising arrangement that doesn't feel like a self-sacrifice

Hope this helps xx

[system-of-a-feather]

Man though, our fiance's brain literally forgot what serotonin is and like, it's been getting there for the past year and he's been just kinda ignoring it, but he's been having panic attacks daily for the past like month - and good news he got the meds he needs (cause we both agree it seems mostly a neuro-chemical issue than it is a cognitive kinda thing)

But this whole thing has been really interesting cause for the past month >WE< have been the >mentally stable< party and helping in crisis states for once

And this whole thing has been a huge role reversal that has us both going "bro you LIVE like this"

Cause it's not bad enough that I'm complaining, but my boy has been maintaining this role I've been playing for 5-6 years and while its "easy" and something Im glad to be doing, I could not imagine keeping this level of attentiveness and "fucks given" for lack of better words for such a long period and I'm just like jesus christ he makes this look easy

And he's just like What the Fuck - how the fuck did they manage to do *motions to everything* when what I'm going through is a quarter of their old base line and I've had to go to urgent care for meds

And now that he's getting better thanks to meds we're just like "hey can we trade back" in a lighthearted joking manner

Cause its actually a bit of a moment of appreciation as a silverlining cause like - god the emotional labor is real being the "mentally stable" party and fucking MAD respect for him making it look easy; and on his end hes like FUCK I get it good fucking god now I understand why you are dumb about things sometimes (affectionate again)

And were just like "bro you make this shit look easy tf you live like this"

Cause now that hes a lot more stable I'm setting some time aside to have recovery ME time and I'm just like *deep breath of emotional labor exhaustion* "My avoidant attachment is not used to having to focus on someone and have attention both given and received for such long periods of time my emotional availability muscle while 100x what it used to be is still weaaakk"

I'm also glad we can functionably reverse roles like this honestly. It's a good sign of a mutual relationship and flexibility to get through issues, but good god, hope we can return to both of us doing our specialties XD

I'd literally love to just like, vampiric suck his mental illness away cause if that was possible, I'm much much much more adept and used to bearing that kind of issues but UNFORTUNATELY that is not a thing I can do :/ /lh /hj

-Riku

[the-churroguy]

Soapbox/TEDtalk time! You’ve been warned.

TW: SA and child trafficking

The answer “the church can’t call out abuse or racism”is WAY MORE ACCURATE than we all realize.

So, back in ye olde times, many European Christian’s wanted to make pilgrimages to Jerusalem and various other sacred sites in Palestine (tomb of Jesus, Mt. Olive etc.) but bandits were a really freaking problem, and since these were pilgrims, they didn’t carry much in terms of security. So a Frenchman by the name Hughes de Paynes and his closest friends and family members found an order of knights, called the poor man’s knights. They would act as hired security and muscle, and escort Europeans across “The Holy Lands”. Now these fellows had a vow, WE DON’T WANT MONEY. No seriously, they were a non-profit, and any funds they received would be sent back and put into a treasury that was SOLEY used for maintaining gear and paying settlements to the knights families if they died along the way. So this starts to catch some serious wind, and before long, the pope started supporting them in the only way popes really could. He blessed them, anointed them and said that the knights no longer had to pay taxes. (Note: I’m fairly certain that’s the reason why it’s a rule that churches dont pay taxes, the tradition of them being non-profit started from these guys. But don’t QUOTE me on that) Anywhosies, time goes on and the knights get more and more followers and they’re soon spread across Europe, and they are hoarding wealth, so much so that since they can’t pay it back, they start to use bonds and promises of credit in their dealings. THAT’S RIGHT! These peeps created a prototype banking system in Europe! Additionally, they receive the support of the current ruler of Jerusalem and set up a headquarters in the city section called Temple Mount, this is where Solomon’s temple was built. And they receive an honorary title that would spread like wildfire and last til this day. *Drum roll* the Knights of Temple Mount, later shortened to Knights Templar. So as time goes on, the Catholic Church realizes it made a bit of an oops (you’re shocked, I’m sure) because the knights are receiving more love and devotion than the church itself. So the new pope, when he rolls around decides he doesn’t like these guys, but he can’t do anything to condemn them. However, he wouldn’t have to worry, as the other big thing to do in Europe was watch France and England fight. A tradition that survives today in modern Futból. So the French ruler, one Philip lé Faire, petitions the Templars to fund their war against England since they have more money than literally all of Europe combined. The Templars say no, they’re not a fighting force and are non-militaristic (Oh, my poor sweet, summer child. If only you knew… this was all before the crusades BTW). Philip is unhappy now, and so he goes to the pope and tells him, AND THIS IS WHERE THE THING COMES IN, “The Knight Commander of the Templars is a practicing homosexual.” Welp, there it is, that’s all the pope needed. He orders the arrest and trial of every major commander, finds the ones he hates, accuses them of being gay, and kills them. Replaces them with officers that he directly approves of, and brings the whole order under the banner of the Catholic Church. The rest, as they say, is history. The Templars go on to lead campaigns to “purge the holy land” as well as settle themselves in England, which I’m fairly certain is also what started the christianization of most Danish and Saxon religions.

So, YES! Racism between the French and the English and the Catholic Church being greedy and abusing its power is what stated the HEAVY persecution of homosexuality more than literally ANY OTHER SIN. That and being partnered with the idea that the church partook in a “righteous” version of said sins: murder? “purging heretics”. Theft? “Generous tithing”. Child labor and trafficking? “Conscription”. It’s a disease.

Now, I hope I dont come across as mansplaining during all of that. The truth is, I am a Christian. And I don’t say that to come across as a performative ally or “one of the good ones”. I say all of this because I believe the church has lost its purpose and its way. We used to help people, not belittle them for differences. I want to see that changed, and I don’t know how else to start that than by presenting the truth as I understand it, because that’s the only way to open dialogue and change. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

PS. Again I am VERY sorry if any of this came across as preachy, narcissistic or too much. I’m going through therapy and self improvement and am trying to identify toxic habits so I can break them. Much love to all ^_^

Why do racists not fear God?

Because the church can't call out abuse or racism.

[astecra]

Thoughts of a 23 year old living in a world of ever-evolving Materialism

Thinking of my childhood, and seeing old videos of my childhood homes, I see how many things we had as a family. We didn't have a lot of money and we didn't have a big apartment or any fancy things -but we did have a lot of things. The reason for that is because we took great care of what we had, and made sure to treat it with respect. I was the youngest of three girls, so naturally I had a lot of hand-me-downs. But I don't remember ever being annoyed about the hand-me-downs, or ever having a desire for owning my own things. I never really knew why hand-me-downs didn't bother me the way it seems to bother a lot of other 'youngest' children, but now I realize its because we were all raised, and lived in an environment, where we took care of the things we had. Any of the toys that were handed down to me were in tact. Granted, they didn't look brand new, but they didn't look old or overly used either; they just looked like they had been played with. Like they were loved. The same goes for all the clothes I inherited from my sisters. We now live in a time where two things happen: tangible items, 'things', are being mass produced because people constantly want to buy new things, and people want to constantly buy new things because things are constantly being mass produced. The supply and demand of basically anything you can think of has increased ten fold. And as a result, the quality of everything has significantly decreased, because you simply can't create quality work in a hurry. This then leads to incredibly high prices for things that take a little longer to be made, and feeds into the incredible economic disparity that we are all witnessing and suffering from. Also, obviously this all ties into how labor is being exploited on such a large scale - because it's nearly impossible to ethically produce all of these items in a timespan that meets the demand of consumers. But it really doesn't need to be like this, and we CAN change this. And no, you don't need to stop buying things that you see in the store or online and love, or that you have to restrict yourself from treating yourself to nice things. I'm a taurus, so I constantly see things I like, and rarely don't buy the things I love. I LOVE treating myself. What you can do however, is simply just take care of the things you DO have, value them and maintain them so that you can use them for a long time and wont need to buy something to replace it in a couple months time. This is not only more ethical and ensures you have nice things for a long time, but would also allow you to be more conscious of how you spend your money, and I guarantee that it will save you A LOT of money and make you feel less guilty in times where you do splurge on something. You'll get to buy nicer things because you'll have more financial access to them, which in turn will surely make you to want to take care of the things you buy. I'm not talking about the daily coffee you get that makes your day even just a little better. I'm talking about tangible items intended for long use. You don't need a new set of headphones every year. You don't need a new phone case, or water bottle, or jewelry every couple months. You definitely don't need 90 pairs of shirts. You're not Paris Hilton, chill. It makes me really sad how the quality of everything is decreasing, and how people don't see the value in the things they have anymore. I understand that this is very normal, because its impossible to constantly have something new and recognize the value of it when in a couple months if not weeks or days, you'll just replace it with something even newer. But I miss the simplicity of how things were, and hope we can all someday go back to loving the things we have, instead of being slaves to capitalism and materialism - constantly wanting more and more, and in turn losing the joy, appreciation and acknowledgement of value of the things we do have.

[newsworld-nw]

Paris Hilton has doubled down on 'unacceptable' comments she made about her son's appearance in a heartfelt message

after Paris Hilton42, shared an lovely new photograph of her son, Fairytale birds are particular9 months, through Instagram On October 19, many haters had been fast to make destructive feedback in regards to the child's look. Lots of the proud mother's 24.9 million followers left notes in regards to the child's cranium and general look. Two days later, Paris took to the feedback part tiktok video The lovely phoenix was created by a fan to guard her and later saved her once more with a protracted message. "There are some sick folks on this world," easy life Written by alum. “My angel is completely wholesome. And sure, in fact she went to a physician, she simply has an enormous mind." The fan who shared the TikTok clip made the video in protection of Paris and her baby and known as out the haters within the caption. "Dude in case you're bullying youngsters get your head examined. Ought to,” the content material creator captioned the put up. Paris additionally shared a message that known as the criticism "unacceptable" and revealed that it harm her. "Dwelling life within the highlight, feedback are inevitable, however concentrating on my baby or anybody else is unacceptable," she started. "This hurts my coronary heart greater than phrases can describe. I've labored laborious to construct an setting that's about love, respect and acceptance, and I count on the identical in return." She went on so as to add that navigating motherhood within the highlight has put her below scrutiny. “If I do not put up my child, folks assume I am not an ideal mother and if I do, there are people who find themselves merciless and hateful. I am a proud working mother and my child is completely wholesome, lovely and angelic. " she wrote earlier than including that her son has develop into the "greatest blessing" in her life. "I've dreamed of being a mom for so long as I can keep in mind," she additional defined. “Day by day with him is a reminder of what actually issues. It's laborious to fathom that there are folks on this planet who would goal such an harmless. I hope that individuals can deal with one another with extra kindness and compassion." The photograph that sparked the dialog amongst Paris' followers was a collection of snapshots she shared social media A number of days earlier than the applause. Within the photograph carousel, the 42-year-old cradles Phoenix on her lap in celebration of her first journey to the Large Apple. "My valuable angel child Phoenix's first time in NYC," she captioned the put up Regardless of the hateful feedback, a lot of Paris' followers and superstar associates gushed over the nine-month-old. "God!!! Valuable sufficient!!!" Demi Lovato swooned, whereas the designer Diane von Furstenberg Added, “How lovely! Bravo!” A number of others shamed on-line haters for his or her destructive feedback. “Think about being an grownup making enjoyable of an harmless baby! Unhappy world we dwell in," one fan wrote, whereas one other exclaimed, "Adults making enjoyable of a child...wow that is a disgrace." Paris welcomed her solely baby together with her husband through surrogate, Carter Rheum42, on January 2023. Along with commenting on Phoenix's look, Paris took off Instagram To want his good friend on 22 October, Kim Kardashian, blissful birthday. "Joyful birthday @kimkardashian! So many enjoyable reminiscences collectively! Wanting ahead to doing extra to ship you a number of love in your big day! Hope all of your birthday needs and goals come true! Maintain sleeving! Love you," Paris gushed to the now 43-year-old. . Within the carousel of images, the SKIMS founder and Paris posed collectively in a number of throwback images and movies of their years-long friendship. #Paris #Hilton #doubled #unacceptable #feedback #sons #look #heartfelt #message Read the full article

[twiceinadream]

Twice React- Cockwarming Alpha S/O

Requested: Yup

Request: Can u do omega twice cockwarming for alpha reader 🧑🏾‍🦯

a/u: Hey, everyone! Long time no see, I’ve missed you all so much and I hope you can forgive me for being gone so long. My life has been insanely busy these last few weeks so I hope you enjoy the first thing I’ve written in nearly a month. I love you all and thank you so much for all the love and support! And remember to stream “Alcohol-free”!

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Nayeon

“Here!?”

Nayeon wouldn’t exactly call herself an “exhibitionist”, but then again, she couldn’t say she hated where this was going. You and your girlfriend had agreed to hold Twice’s weekly movie night at your apartment as the two of you spent all evening setting everything up for the girls. And it wasn’t until everyone was nearly ready to start did you pull Nayeon onto your lap and a blanket over her legs. She could feel your hardon through your pants as you snaked a hand between the two of you, pushing your pants and boxers down to let your erection breath. A challenging smile grew on your girlfriend’s lips as she moved her underwear to the side, letting you slip in as she sat back down. Stifling a moan as a jump scare jostled the both of you, making her sink further down onto your cock as she tried to maintain a neutral expression. Doing everything in her power to try and ignore the way your alpha-hood pulsed inside of her as she was forced to endure the next hour and a half filled with you.

Jeongyeon

“Stop moving.”

It had been a few weeks since you and your girlfriend had done anything spontaneous. Your mate just didn’t think it would also involve her members. Jeong bit her lip as the grip she had on your arm tightened even more as you made a show of getting up slightly to fix the blanket you had draped over you and your girlfriend. A playful smirk covered your face as Jeongyeon resisted the urge to hit you as the jostling you caused made her stifle a moan. Your cock nestled nicely inside of her as the rest of her members continued to watch the show playing on the tv. Blissfully unaware of the evil you were conducting on their second eldest Unnie.

Momo

“Y/N.”

Planning trips was hard and you had to commend Momo for all the work she did by herself. So you decided to pay her back the best way you could. A persistent blush covered the eldest Japanese woman’s face as she tried her hardest not to show any indication of what was going on as she moved onto your lap the first half hour into the flight. Ignoring the weird but mysteriously knowing look the flight attendant had given her when the plane had hit a bit of turbulence and she had to bite her finger to stifle the groan that threatened to spill out. You couldn’t help but chuckle lowly as Momo scowled, “Y/N, please.” You just shrugged before continuing to watch the movie that was playing on your phone. But after having you inside of her for the better part of an hour she had finally had enough as you rutted your hips into her. Finally bringing over the edge as she shuddered on top of you, silently releasing all over your lap before she slumped back into you. A cocky smile growing on your face as you whispered into your mate’s ear, “Welcome to the Mile High Club, Momoring.”

Sana

“Oh god…”

Sana couldn’t exactly remember what had caused you two to end up in this position but she found herself on her knees in the middle of the living room with a blindfold over her eyes. She could hear you unzip your pants as the strong scent of your alpha-hood greeted her nose as you placed the tip of your cock to her lips. The corners of her lips curled up into a small smile as you pushed into her mouth. Her tongue rubbed along the underside of your shaft as Sana made a move to bob her head forward, but you stopped her with a hand threaded lightly into her hair, “Not yet, baby.” You could see her eyebrows knit together in confusion as you just kept yourself there, and as time passed you could sense your mate’s neediness as her fists furled and unfurled repeatedly against her thighs. You finally had enough of your own self restraint as you jogged your hips forward. Sana met you halfway as one of her hands came up to play with your balls while she took you down to the root, enjoying the feeling of you shallowly fucking her throat as the hand in her hair tensed as you came.

Jihyo

“Patience Jagiya.”

It wasn’t necessarily Jihyo’s fault she had been so busy these past few weeks, she and her members had a comeback to prepare for and all. But that also didn’t mean you were exactly an angel either. This whole thing started out innocently, it went from your girlfriend sitting next to you on the couch, to her hand on your thigh, then somewhere after that you found yourself buried inside the tight walls of your mate’s heat as she peacefully read a book while perched on top of you. You could feel her clench and unclench around you, testing you, you hated it. Your hands were practically fisting the couch cushions as she continued to rock her hips ever so slowly. You could tell Jihyo was enjoying every second of her sadistic teasing as you whimpered into her ear, “Baby, please.” She just shook her head, “No, you were bad and brats get punished.” You let out a scoff that was cut off by the high pitched moan you let out as she dropped into your lap, making your cock dribble some cum inside of her. “You’re mean.” Jihyo just smiled as she got off you, your hard cock glistening and throbbing in the cool air of the room. “And you’re a brat.”

Mina

“Don’t even think about it.”

Mina was okay with letting you have control. But sometimes when she wanted something, she was gonna get it. Labored breathing filled the bedroom as you collapsed on top of Mina, a satisfied smile on both of your faces as she trailed her fingers along your back. Drawing meaningless circles across your shoulder blades as she felt you soften side of her, you made a move to pull out but your mate stopped you as she suddenly flipped your guy’s positions so that she had you pinned beneath her. A look of surprise on your face as Mina sat up on your lap, “Don't move.” You raised an eyebrow in confusion before she began gyrating her hips, a shocked gasp leaving your mouth as you made a move to stop her. “W..wait.” But the Japanese woman simply ignored you as she could feel you attempt to get hard again, “I said, ‘Don’t move.’.” You whimpered as you could feel yourself growing to a second climax, a pained moan leaving you as you weakly came inside of your girlfriend. A pleased smile grew on her face as she kissed your nose, “Goodnight, Y/N.” She laid back down on top of you, your cock still inside of her as you shrugged, ‘Tomorrow morning should be fun.’

Dahyun

“What if someone sees?”

Going to the beach on a hot summer day was a good idea. Or so Dahyun thought it was. The two of you had arrived early enough to find a small secluded spot on the far side of the beach that was blocked by a small cliff, leaving the two of you in your own little world as you held Dahyun to your front as she peacefully read her book. You spent the last two hours placing kisses along her neck and your hands inching closer to the inside of her thighs, and you could tell your actions were starting to affect her by the way her thighs were rubbing together and her scent was building. A frustrated groan leaving your mate as she threw down her book, “What do you want Y/N!?” You smiled coyly, “I just wanted to see if you wanted to have a little fun?” Your girlfriend’s eyebrow raised in interest, “What did you have in mind?” Dahyun was now filled to the brim with your cock as you had her sit back against your chest, her breath stuck in her throat as she tried to stay as still as possible, “By ‘fun’ I didn’t think you’d mean this.” You smiled coyly, “Well, what did you think I’d suggest?” She shrugged, “I don’t know, Marco Polo?” You let out a laugh that made you bounce slightly, causing Dahyun to rock on your hips as she let out a squeal. “Oh god.” You sat back as your hips finally stilled, “There’s more where that came from. We have all afternoon, Dahyunnie.”

Chaeyoung

“Kinky.” (I slightly apologize for the amount of puns in this)

Chaeyoung was always done for a little exploration. She just wasn’t expecting it on a train to Busan. The two of you were on a midnight train and things were quite monotonous in a train car all alone together, so the two of you decided to spice it up. It didn’t take long for one thing to lead to another as Chaeyoung was lowering herself onto you, her ass stretching to accommodate the small amount of discomfort you caused as she sat flush on your lap. And that’s all the two of you did for the majority of the time until your girlfriend began to get squirmy on top of you, her anal walls clenching around you when you decided it was time to give her what she wanted. Ensuring that no one else was around you bent your girlfriend over the train seat as you railed her into the padding. Your combined moans filling the train car as you bottomed out inside of her and came, your reached a hand around to play with her clit as you felt her walls contract around you again. Content sighs leaving your lips as you sat back into the seats.

Tzuyu

“Hush.”

It was understatement to say that nine people alone wasn’t a lot of people. But it wasn’t enough that Tzuyu had to sit on your lap to “make room” in the jacuzzi. It had happened so fast that you barely registered what your girlfriend had done as she innocently sat onto your lap. Only it wasn’t so innocent since she had freed your alpha-hood from your bathing suit and pushed the bottom of her bathing suit aside and took you inside of her. Your breath caught in your throat as Tzuyu grinded down into you ever so slightly as your hands flew to her hips, trying your best to resist the urge to take her then and there. But you held back as you continued your conversation with Jeongyeon and Momo about new cafés opening up around the city. You almost forgot you were a cock deep inside your mate as she began moving up and down suddenly to splash Nayeon and Chaeyoung who were opposite her, making you grip on her hips tighten as you felt the knot inside your stomach come undone as you suddenly came inside of her. A surprised look took over both of your faces as she turned around to stare at you in disbelief. A dark blush covered your cheeks as you buried your face into the back of her hair, Tzuyu was totally gonna make you pay for that later.

[bookandcover]

The latest read for our family’s Anti-Racism Book Club, and a book that was highly recommended by several friends, The Three Mothers is an eye-opening labor of love. In exploring and centering the lives and stories of Louise Little, Alberta King, and Berdis Baldwin, this book strives to remember these women in the context of their three influential families and to show the dramatic, international impact these woman had throughout their lives. Both through the ways in which they raised, nurtured, and taught their children, and in their direct activism work, these women have shaped the course of American history. 

This book is a powerful refocusing of our lens onto three lives that have been little documented and under-celebrated. It is also engaging and a page-turner. These women lived such extraordinary lives—at times tragically sad, at times transcendently joyful—that they leap off the page. As someone who often struggles to make it through nonfiction, I sprinted through this book, riveted on every page, in awe of these women and their narratives. From the love Berdis maintained while interacting with her mentally-ill and abusive husband to Louise’s traumatic loss of her husband to deliberate and racist murder ruled as suicide, I was moved and horrified in turn to learn what these women had gone through. They were able to live and love in spite of so many hardships, undiminished by them. 

The contrasts and comparisons among these women are artfully drawn. As author Anna Malailka Tubbs emphasizes, together the show a much more complex portrait of Black motherhood than they would alone. They experienced different socio-economic backgrounds, different frameworks of familial support, different environments and communities. They respond differently to the perils of their world, to decisions about marriages and careers, to trials of loss and change. Within these differences, they are empowered. They are active agents who shape their lives and their families, even when systems stand against them. The historical context this book provided was also illuminating. The time period examples of Black life during Jim Crow and segregation, the Great Migration, the impacts of the Great Depression and two World Wars, really helped me to see the forces of the time that shaped these women’s lives. The book did a wonderful job balancing awareness of the racism and sexism these women faced every single day, while centering these women as empowered individuals able to shape their futures and the futures of their children. This seemed, to me, like a difficult narrative balance to strike in crafting a book like this and it was powerfully done. 

I felt this book breaking down some of my assumptions and biases as I read. Over the past few years, I have been increasingly attuned to narratives that are silenced—because of race, because of gender—but I could feel myself needing to deconstruct assumptions around motherhood and “traditional female roles” as I read. I do think I hold a set of “less than” assumptions about the pathway of being a wife/mother. I do think I have frowned upon women who give up their career to be a wife/mother primarily (despite, or perhaps because of, having seen my own mother do this.) I have frowned upon these women—not in terms of their choice—but out of some frustration at seeing brilliant women choose a life pathway that does not put their intellectual impacts in the public eye. I think I needed to tackle these assumptions in reading this book, appreciating in new ways how my long-held perspective is, too, a kind of silencing. Simply because wives/mothers’ contributions are not visible in the way I expect or hope for (and my expectations/hopes for “worth” and “impact” are absolutely those defined by the patriarchy) I was quicker to dismiss them. After reading this book, I have a new appreciation for the ways in which choosing motherhood is an inherently feminist act, one that does not bow to the demands of the patriarchy in terms of what “worth” and “impact” look like. I needed to examine myself as I read. 

Beyond the strong anti-racism and anti-sexism work of the project of this book, beyond the thoughtful themes connecting and the history contextualizing these women, this book was a rewarding read on the level of my knowledge of these women’s stories. I could not believe that some of this information was new to me (Alberta King was assassinated?? Martin Luther King Jr’s brother A.D. also died under mysterious circumstances??) I was shocked that this was information I had never heard before about the King family, and I shared it with my dad, both of us exclaiming in confusion about how essential this information seemed to the narrative of MLK’s life, context, and battle for racial equality. Even in telling the stories of MLK’s life (let alone the life of Alberta King herself), we have received such a fragmented picture, a picture that highlights certain details and completely erases other essential events. These specific examples about the lives of the King family—two of many such examples about the lives of all three families—struck me as I read this book with a heavy appreciation of my blindness, born of deliberate erasure and prioritizing particular narratives in the education I have received. I want to work to counteract this. It takes a lot of work because the narratives and assumptions we hold are so strongly engrained. 

[skylarmoon71]

Leonardo x Reader- Oneshot (TMNT 2014/2016)

So in honor of black history month, I decided to write this Fanfiction. 

As a black woman, it is important to recognize and be proud of who I am. And to all the beautiful black women out there, be proud and thankful for all we’ve achieved. I hope my readers will enjoy this little fiction as much as I liked writing it. There is also a little information about my hometown in this.

Enjoy!! 

"Hey Leo did I leave my.."

"Right here."

Leo was holding your pack of hair ties in his hand. He smiled, and you flushed, taking it with a small thanks.

"You saved my life, I always lose these. Just bought them too." You were so excited for the movie night yesterday that you came right from the store with everything that you shop for that evening. So of course when you got home and couldn't find them, you assumed you left it with the turtles.

"Alright guys quit flirting." Raph buzzed passed, and at that moment you were thankful for your dark skin, because it would be that more embarrassing if Leo could see you blush. Leo brushed off the comment, just shrugging his brother off.

"Don't mind him, he's just mad cause Mikey beat him again in Mario Kart." you giggle, following Leo to the living room.

Easy days like this were nice. Saturdays were what you looked forward to. Friday nights you'd all get together and watch a movie, and Saturdays were reserved for pure relaxation. You moved over taking a seat next to Mikey, and his grin grew wide as he looked at you. You smiled, despite your slight confusion. "Do I have something on my face?" you chuckle.

"Nah brah, it's just your hair." your eyes widened, and you reached over wondering if maybe it was getting unruly again. "Oh crap is it crazy!" you asked, self consciously. You had it loose today, curls falling at the sides. It was puffy and curly at the same time. Almost like a kinky afro. Generally you'd pull your hair back in a high bun, or even a side one. But you couldn't find your ties earlier, and you were really not feeling it to comb through it today.

"Are you kidding! Your hair is amazing, everytime you come it's like in a different style." This time, you were surely blushing. "O-Oh..thank you..." It was no secret that you had untamed hair. You loved it though. Growing up there were people that made you feel a bit insecure about it. Most of the kids at your school had such tamed and straight hair, while you had curly kinky locks. At times it was a challenge styling it, and it did take a while on most days just to get it under control, but it's what made you, you. Your hair was your heritage, your strength.

Leo was watching you from his spot, and he couldn't help but agree with Mikey. It wasn't just your hair that was different, it was everything. He remembered the first time he asked Master Splinter about the differences in humans. He was a kid, probably nine or ten. He didn't know much but what he'd seen Donnie show him when they'd sneak to the surface to peek through the drains.

Looking back he realized just how everyone varied. Hair, skin, eyes. It was so fascinating to him. He loved it all. The diversity, to him it was incredible. As sad as humanity was sometimes, there were occasions that they would surprise him. The world was far from perfect, but there were moments where unity just inspired him to fight harder for the citizens.

You were a clear example of that. Meeting you was not just eye opening but also educational. He'd forever be willing to learn new cultures. So whenever you gave him or his brothers a small history lesson when they questioned something you did or said, he found that he was that more intrigued by you. They'd known you for just a few months, yet it felt like years of friendship. They were still learning more about you, everyday. Now that he thought about it, you weren't born in New York.

"(Y/N), you said you were born in the Caribbean right?"

The way your face spark to life never fails to make his heart pick up.

"That's right, I'm surprised you remembered that. Think I told Mikey the second time we met. He wanted to know why I talked so funny."

"Yeah, what was the name of your country again." Raph questioned from across the room. He was presently doing pull ups on the metal bar.

"Trinidad and Tobago. That's where I was raised, I moved here with my parents four years ago."

"Dude say that thing you did last time." Mikey called excitedly. You rolled your eyes.

"What thing?" Leo asked curiously.

"The way they say what's up is so cool. (Y/N) says it's english but it sounds completely different."

Now Leo really wanted to hear. His sapphire gaze turned on you, and you nibbled on your lip.

"I-It's isn't anything great it's just a greeting."

"I'd like to hear, if you don't mind of course."

You didn't mind at all. Leo was your weakness.

"Wais de scene."

"Seee!! You can't tell me that's english!"

Mikey was jumping up off the chair laughing and now so were you.

"You sounded different too." Leo notes. Your accent was different from the New York drawl he used too. It was nice.

"Can you tell us more." He really did love to learn, and maybe just between him, he kind of liked your native tongue.

~~~~~~

The boys were on patrol, so you figured you'd have more time to yourself. You opted for taking a shower. You'd gotten out a few minutes ago and now you were spraying your hair with olive oil as you ran your fingers through the curls. Your hand shifted to the small container of hair food, dipping in and placing it on your scalp, making sure to get it through the roots. You were glad Leo placed this mirror in his room. You had no idea why though. He didn't seem like the self absorbed type.

"I knew it would come in handy." His voice startled you a little. He closed the door on entry, and you dropped your hands. "H-Hey, I'm sorry I didn't think you guys would be back yet. I wasnt messing with your stuff or anything I just need to use the mirror and yours is so big so I thought why not and I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself, I asked Donnie to set it up here for you." you raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Really?"

"Yeah, you're here a lot, and I know girls like styling their hair. I was hoping I'd finally get to see you actually doing it. I've always been curious about how you get it to look so beautiful."

He really did know what to say to make your heart flutter.

Damn that smooth talker.

"Gosh, are you guys on a mission to embarrass me today, you've been complimenting me since this morning and it isn't even my birthday. " you pulled your hair up into a high bun, reaching for a hair tie to keep it in place.

"Wait!" you froze, looking at him.

"S-Sorry I just...I like the way it looks when you leave it down. It's so puffy, kind of cute..." his words trailed off, and you slowly dropped your hand.

"W-Well I guess if you like it then I don't mind. " you couldn't maintain eye contact, so you turned to the items in front of you. Closing the lids of both hair products, you shift over to the sink you wash your hands from the oily substance. When you were done, you reached for the hand cloth, before you could grab it, Leo was behind you, and his hand rested gently over your palm. Your body stilled, pulse increasing.

"Leo.." it was said with so much uncertainty. You weren't sure how things got to this, heck, you weren't expecting it, but you weren't complaining. His hands ran down your arms slowly. With your back still facing him, there wasn't much you could do but hope your breathing wasn't too labored. You'd spent so long trying to keep your feelings for him under wraps. If nothing but to ensure you didn't risk your friendship. Right now though, friendship was far from your thoughts.

"I wasn't being completely forward earlier, it isn't just your hair that's beautiful. " Your heart gave a thump, and when he urged you around slowly, you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. "Your hair, skin, eyes, lips.." the last word was said longingly, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. "It's a challenge for me sometimes, I envy Mikey's ability to just say what's on his mind. I can barely look at you for too long, otherwise I'm afraid how much harder it'll be for me to hold back." So he was holding back too, geez, and here you thought this attraction was purely one sided.

"What if I..don't want you to hold back Leo.." His blue eyes glimmered, and you swore your knees would buckle just from the intensity of his stare. His hand raised to your cheek, and you released a sigh. How many times did you imagine this scenario in your head. Hundreds? Maybe thousands.

"Then I won't." he closed the space with those three words, and you leaned into it. Leo's arms were secured around your waist as his soft lips covered your own. Your hands gripped at his shoulders, and you tried to keep them from venturing. If they strayed, you weren't sure you'd be able to trust yourself not to grope every inch of his taunt muscular body. The kiss started off slow, innocent even. It was your first one together. You were both trying to savor it. Having longed for this, it felt like a dream.

After a few moments, that tentative demeanor changed to one of dominance and hunger, one that needed to be satisfied. Leo backed you up, not breaking the kiss for even a mere second. Leo's hand around your waist moved to the small of your back, and you gasped when it landed on your butt. He heard the sound, pulling back.

"Should..I..stop.." he forced out between pants. You shook your head, diving back in. Leo groaned, giving your cheek an appreciative squeeze. The action made you open your mouth, and his tongue slipped in. You moaned, and Leo took another step forward, this time he turned, and you let out a soft sound when he fell back in the bed, pulling you with him. He barely seemed affected, taken by the sensations.

You straddled his body, parting to admire his hazed look. Your chest was still heaving, and you wanted nothing more than to join your lips again, but you just liked looking at him. Those azure orbs that were almost penetrating you. His hand ran up your thigh, and he smirked at the way you bit down on your lip.

"Did I mention that I like chocolate?"

You giggle, "I sort of figured it out hotshot." you snark back. You squeaked when he suddenly switched positions. You were now bound to the bed, literally. He pinned both your wrists, that confident smile never leaving.

"I also like being in control." That comment did wild things to your body. You didn't mind at all. He pressed into you, and you whimpered needy. "L-Leo.." you wanted him, needed him now.

"Don't worry, I'd never leave you all hot and bothered, no matter how arousing it is to watch."

"Stop talking and kiss me!"

"So bossy." He taunted.

"Leo!"

He leaned down, giving your neck a soft kiss.

"Save your voice, you're gonna need it."

You gulped, and Leo took your breath away before you could fully think about it.

You were in store for a very...busy night.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 2

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

“Oh, hi Dana,” Maggie says, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Should I have been expecting you today?”

Dana shakes her head from her mother’s doorstep. “No, sorry for dropping by unannounced, I was just...driving around. I thought I’d say hi.”

“Of course, sweetheart, come on in.” Maggie ushers her inside and puts on a pot of coffee. “Did you and Ethan have a good New Year?” she asks, pulling the creamer out of the fridge.

“Yes, it was fine. We just had a quiet night at home, nothing exciting,” she responds blandly.

They get situated in the front room, the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in the windows and betraying the chill outside. Dana watches a pair of squirrels as they forage for acorns stashed away in the summer months. It occurs to her that the nuts they will eat were hidden before she married Ethan. Possibly even before she broke Mulder’s heart. It feels like lifetimes ago, and yet it was recent enough that the fruit of its season is still edible.

“Dana,” Maggie says gently, “can I ask you something? And I hope you won’t take offense.”

“Sure, mom,” she answers, not looking away from the furry foragers.

“Are you happy?”

Dana turns to look at her mother, finding her with a concerned and empathetic expression.

“What do you mean?” she asks. She’s worked so hard to be okay, but maybe she’s not doing as well faking it as she thought.

“Dana, you are my most level-headed child,” Maggie begins, “I have never questioned your decisions or your logic, or your path for your life. It’s so clear that you make your choices with great intention and consideration, and that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Say anything about what?” Her breath is becoming just a bit labored. It feels like her mother is about to reveal something significant to her, only about herself.

“You changed, Dana, after you and Ethan got engaged. It was like the light went from your eyes. I didn’t understand it, but I trusted that you knew what you wanted and chalked it up to jitters. But it’s been nearly three months, and I thought I’d have my daughter back by now.”

The pain in her mother’s eyes brings a lump to her throat and she swallows against it. Her chin quivers just a bit, but she fights to maintain control. It’s something she’s needed to do often as of late.

“Mom, how did you know that Dad was the person you were supposed to spend your life with?” she asks hoarsely, and Maggie’s face contorts into a mask of pained understanding as she takes her daughter’s hand.

“I knew,” she starts but then stops again, looking out the window with a faraway quality to her gaze. “I knew because when I was with him I felt alive, like he really saw me. And whenever I wasn’t with him, he was all I thought about.” Maggie turns again to look at her daughter with shining eyes, the memory of her late husband still one that pricks at the pain of her loss.

“But did you always feel that way, even after you’d been together for years?” Dana further interrogates. Certainly such a strong feeling must fade with time.

“It changed, of course, after four kids and dozens of moves and deployments. It wasn’t as consuming, we didn’t have time for it to be. But yes, in the moments that mattered, I still felt it. I still do now, and not having him here to reflect it back to me is what made losing him so hard.”

Dana nods tersely, looking out the window again as she sets her jaw against the tears. They still come, as she hasn’t mastered control over her tear ducts even after months of surreptitious crying.

“Mom,” she croaks out, turning back to look at the face of a person she knows loves her without question. “I think I made a mistake.”

“Oh, honey,” Maggie replies, tears filling her own eyes in sympathy for her child’s suffering. “There’s no mistake that can’t be fixed.”

Dana shakes her head and then lets it drop regretfully. “I can’t do that. To Ethan, to you. I already didn’t get married in the church, and I know how much shame a divorce would bring to you,” she says to her lap.

“Dana,” Maggie says with some exasperation, “do you realize that you’re suggesting that you should spend the rest of your life unhappily married because you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings? Ethan will survive. He will find someone else who wants to be with him as much as he wants to be with them. I can certainly live through Marilyn Webber giving me the hairy eyeball at mass for a few weeks. You deserve to be happy, honey. And if that’s not possible with Ethan, you should move on.”

“Move on to what?” Dana asks in a whisper, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. But you’ll never find out if you don’t start moving.”

———

She waits with a glass of wine in her hand, the third she’s consumed this evening waiting for him to come home, waiting to ruin his life so that she might save her own. He walks in the door sighing heavily, a sure sign of a bad day, and she’s afraid she might lose her nerve. He stops when he sees her perched in the armchair. It’s no accident that she chose a place where he couldn’t sit beside her.

“Dana, you’re home early,” he remarks, looking at her with confusion and a little concern.

“Uh, yeah. Can we- can you sit down, please? We need to talk.”

The worry in his eyes as he sits on the end of the couch closest to her makes her heart speed up. Just do it. Do it before you chicken out.

“Are you okay?” he asks hesitantly, and she nods her head emphatically.

“I’m fine, Ethan, it’s nothing like that.”

He looks at her expectantly, bracing himself. She closes her eyes.

“Ethan. You- you are a wonderful person. A wonderful husband.”

“But…” he interjects for her. She opens her eyes and sees that his expression has changed from worry to resignation. Almost like he knows what’s coming.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan. You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just not- I don’t think we’re right for each other.” She takes a deep breath and a sip of wine. She’s almost there. Maybe he’ll take it the rest of the way for her.

He sits back on the couch, giving her an appraising look. “Since when, Dana? How long have you felt this way?” She can hear irritation in his tone.

She shakes her head gently. “That doesn’t matter, Ethan-”

He sits up abruptly and cuts her off. “It matters to me, Dana. Did you marry me knowing that your feelings had changed?”

She feels her chin pucker, the tears gathering in her eyes. She doesn’t respond.

He drops his head and gives a derisive little laugh, looking at the floor as he speaks. “I noticed the difference in you. I just didn’t want to believe it.” He lifts his head and there are tears in his eyes too, but his voice is steady. “Five years, Dana. What the hell happened to us?”

Mulder. Mulder happened to us, she thinks. But there is no value in telling him that.

“I’m so sorry, Ethan,” she says in a strained whisper.

“Yeah, you said that,” he replies dryly. “So, what do you want, to go to counseling? Get divorced?”

She looks at her lap. “We don’t have to get divorced. We’re not technically married,” she says quietly, shame constricting her throat.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asks incredulously. “I did not hallucinate our wedding, I remember very clearly that you barely got through the vows.”

“Um, Charlie was supposed to sign the wedding license, we were supposed to sign it as well, and two witnesses, before it could be mailed in and registered with the state. Missy found it at Mom’s the next day, blank. I guess we all just forgot.”

He’s quiet for a long time. When she looks up at him, his jaw is set and angry tears are streaming down his cheeks.

“You were never going to tell me, were you?” he asks quietly.

She looks away.

“Goddamn it, Dana!” he shouts, slamming his palm down on the coffee table. She jumps at the sudden outburst.

“I’m so sorry,” she says again. She doesn’t know what else to say.

He stands and goes to put his coat and shoes back on. “I need to get out of here,” he says as he stuffs his wallet in his pocket and collects his keys. He’s almost out the door when he stops and turns back. “What happens now?”

“I’ll go stay at my mom’s for the week, so you can….” she can’t quite voice the rest.

“Move out. Right. This is your place. Always was. Well, I guess since we’re not actually married there’s nothing more to do. Good luck, Dana. I hope you figure out what you want.”

“I’m so sorry,” she says again.

“Yeah, me too,” he says before pulling the door closed behind him.

[elizabeethan]

Watch the Sunlight Fade: 10 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Don’t come for me. I was just way too excited, and my patience is wearing this. This is definitely one of my favorite chapters!!!! Hope you like it :) 

Warnings for some violence read: murder.

As always, you can message me if you want more information!

Rated M

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He couldn’t get out of the bloody bar fast enough. Watching her walk out after what appeared to be a difficult conversation with Neal was hard enough, especially with his apparent complete lack of understanding of her emotional state at any given time. The fact that he couldn’t tell how upset she was is troubling. But the fact that Killian couldn’t follow her out immediately and take her in his arms to hold her until whatever Neal said to upset her melted away feels impossible. 

 By the time he got outside, weaving through the crowd and pushing through the doors as she had, she was long gone. He’s not entirely surprised that she’s walking home, but it was only about five minutes between them leaving, and as he speeds down the quiet streets searching for her, she’s nowhere to be found. 

 It isn’t until he reaches their building and parks his bike that he notices her, catching her cowering in the lobby as he assumes the sound of his bike startled her. He feels bad about it, but puts the thoughts out of his mind as he sets the kickstand in place and rushes towards the front doors. When he swings them open and forces his way inside with too much enthusiasm, she gasps. 

 “Swan,” he breathes when he sees her, rushing to stand in front of her and placing his hands on her upper arms. “It’s alright.” 

 He watches her face shifting quickly, moving from relief to fear to anger to heartbreak at a nearly imperceptible pace. When tears break over her eyes and rush down her cheeks, dragging with them streaks of black mascara, he reaches for her and she pulls away. “Did you know?” she asks, her voice shaking and her bottom lip pouting out before she bites it into her mouth. 

“Know what, love?” he asks, and with his words, he sees anger taking over. 

 “Don’t play dumb,” she insists, shoving past him and reaching for the door before throwing herself out into the chilly evening air. 

 “Emma… Emma!” He hurries behind her, grabbing her by the elbow and regretting it when she flinches away and turns towards him, giving him a look of angry disgust. He never wants to make her flinch from his touch. “Tell me what he said.” 

 “Like you don’t know!” she accuses. “Is this why you were acting weird when Gold came in the other day? You figured it out and didn’t tell me.” 

 “Emma…” 

 He’s angry with himself, for being too afraid to tell her what he’d suspected. She’s right, of course; he had figured it out when Gold mentioned her being important for the club’s future. But his fear that it had been true, that perhaps Neal had succeeded in his goal to impregnate her without her even having a clue, was too overwhelming. He’s angry with Neal, too, but he shouldn’t expect much from him. He couldn't even begin to imagine being the one to tell her something so horrific and seeing the look on her face when he did. 

 But the look on her face now, when she’s realized his betrayal, is far worse than anything he could have conjured in his mind. 

 She shakes her head and lets out a soft, pained sob before turning away from him again and starting down the street. With her back turned towards him, he notices her backpack and panic sets in. She can’t run. 

 “Swan, please. Just wait. Please!”

 “No! I trusted you, Killian! I told you how desperate I was to know what he had planned so that I could prepare for it. And then you figured it out and you didn’t tell me!” She pushes him against his chest and he steps back as she lets out another sob. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me?!” 

 “I’m sorry,” he nearly whispers, his voice seeming too loud against the still night. She shakes her head again and laughs, although he’s certain she sees no humor in this situation. “Love, I'm so sorry. I should have told you; I know you’re strong enough to know the truth and I should’ve seen that. I wasn’t strong enough to tell you.”

 “But I’m not, though,” she cries, shaking her head and pushing tears away from her cheeks. “I can’t handle this.” 

 “Emma, please,” he begs again, taking her hand in his carefully and, when she lets him, pulling her towards the alley beside their building. He can’t risk them being seen by a passerby so he hides them in the cover of darkness. “Please, love, please stay. You can survive anything, I promise you. But if you leave, they’ll hunt you down. If we run now, they’ll find us and kill us.” 

 With another sniffle, she leans back against the brick wall of their building in defeat. He takes a bold step forward so that he’s practically embracing her, leaning his hands against the wall behind her in an attempt to hold her together somehow, and she drops her head down against his chest with another sob. “Killian,” she cries, and he feels her breaking down as she wraps her arms around his waist. “If I’m pregnant, I’ll--” 

 “Hush, love,” he quiets as soothingly as he can. His hand moves from the wall to the back of her head, cradling her to his chest and stroking along her scalp as the other presses against her back. “Just try and relax, Emma. We’ll worry about that soon, but for now, you’ve got to try and calm down.” 

 “I can’t do it. I can’t.” 

 There’s nothing he can say, and he knows it. Anything he says will sound like he’s making it up to make her feel better. She’s completely right in assuming that this is bad. So he simply holds her, continues to try to calm her labored breathing as she breaks down in his arms once more and again at the fault of a man who claims to love her. 

 “What did you mean?” she asks after a few moments, once her breathing has evened slightly. “When you said they’d kill us?” 

 He pulls away from her just slightly and uses his thumbs to brush the tears off of her cheeks and the hair out of her eyes. “Well, they’re… a rather violent and vengeful bunch, love.” 

 “No,” she shakes her head, letting it drop to the side slightly into his palm. “I mean… you’re acting like… Like you’d come.” 

 “Of course I would,” he answers immediately without a thought to the contrary. The idea that he would let her go off on her own is too absurd to even consider. “I could never leave you. I could never let you go through this on your own. If you’ll have me, I’ll always fight to be with you, and that includes running away with you even though it’s a bloody daft idea.” 

 “Killian,” she whispers, looking into his eyes so that he can see every facet of her. She shows him the deepest and darkest corners of her soul in her eyes and he loves every inch of her. 

 “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I figured it out and I should’ve told you then, but I was scared.”

 “Scared of what?” 

 “Scared for you. I’m terrified of what they’re doing to you, love. Every day I see the light fade from your eyes and it breaks me. I was too scared and selfish to be the one to make it fade even more by telling you.”

 She shakes her head, but she maintains her strong and meaningful stare into his eyes. “You're the only one who cares. I can’t wrap my head around it.” 

 “Of course I care,” he whispers. 

 “Why?” 

 He lets his mouth hang open for a moment too long, drawing his brows close together in thought as he brushes his thumbs beneath her eyes again. “Don’t you know, Emma?” he asks, genuinely surprised that she doesn’t. “It’s… you. It’s because I love you.” 

 Her gaze conveys so much to him, and it almost breaks his heart. She tells him she’s in disbelief, that she doesn’t believe she’s worthy of having someone love her, without speaking. In silence, she tells him that she’s overwhelmed, but her small, almost imperceptible smile tells him that at least she isn’t angry. “You do?” she asks in doubt.

 “Yes,” he whispers. “I love you. I’ll do anything to get you out of this, Emma. I promise you, I’ll get you away from him. But we can’t run now, Swan. It’s far too dangerous to run now without a plan of where or how to go.” 

 She shakes her head, seemingly barely able to comprehend his words, and repeats, “you love me?” 

 “Aye,” he smiles softly. “Is it so hard to believe?” 

 “No, I-- I’m surprised because I do believe you. I’ve never heard those words before and actually believed them.” 

 He can’t seem to catch his breath, not while she moves her head just slightly enough to bump her nose against his, her lips so close to his that he can taste the fruity chapstick she applied earlier. He tells her, “I'll never stop working to ensure that you believe me, then,” and is met with an audible gasp, her fingers finding the lapels of his jacket and pulling him to close the small gap between them. 

 The kiss they share is fire, a white hot blaze burning between them as he moves his hands from her cheeks and down to her neck, cradling her face to his and refusing to let her go. He can’t imagine ever being apart from her now. Her own grip leaves his jacket and trails to the back of his head, lacing her fingers through his hair as she parts her lips against his. It’s an invitation, one he accepts as he slides his tongue along the soft skin of her bottom lip and then along the inside of her top. 

 His rings tangle in her hair and tug slightly, making her gasp and tighten her own grip on him. He almost worries that he’s hurt her, but she refuses to break away from him and lets out the softest moan when he lets one hand slide down to her waist and pull her even closer to him. He doesn’t know if he’s making up the way her hips press firmly against his, but he hopes to whatever god might be listening that he isn’t. 

 “Emma,” he whispers when they finally stop for a breath, her pants coming out forcefully and her lips parting tantalizingly, making him want nothing more than to capture them in his again. “My love--”

 “Well, what have we here?”

 ~~~~

 The way things shift gives her whiplash. 

 She can’t keep up with the back and forth, one moment feeling terrified of the direction her life is headed, the next feeling more loved than she ever has before, and the next feeling as though her world is crashing around them. They couldn’t have been seen. They only just found one another, she only just learned the truth of how he felt for her. It can’t end so soon after it began. 

 Killian loves her. In all her years, after countless betrayal and heartbreak, she never thought she would find herself in a position like this. She never thought a person could tell her that they love her and that she would believe them. After Neal, after his farce and his attempts at coercing her by offering love as a bargaining chip, she thought herself completely closed off to love, never again willing to accept it. 

 But Killian loves her. And she knows that he’s being truthful when he tells her so. 

 She loves him, too. It’s a fact she’s been slowly but surely coming to terms with over the last few weeks and months, and hearing his confession will only make it easier for her to tell him so. But they won’t ever get the chance. 

 They’ve been caught. It’s over before it can hardly begin. 

 “Rufio,” she hears him growl, stepping to the side and standing in front of her, blocking her view of the man who is surely about to ruin everything for her. 

 “Just imagine the look on Neal’s face when I tell him I caught his girlfriend making out with Hook.” 

 “Mate--” She steps away, anxiously holding her hands up in surrender, ready to beg this man to leave them be. “Emma--”

 “Think he and Peter will give me a front row seat to watch the two of you getting slaughtered?” 

 She tries to stop him. She takes another step forward. “You can’t--” 

 “Emma! Come back.”

 “I can, and I will. In fact, maybe some photographic evidence will help.”

 The bright light of his camera flash blinds her, and she realizes that, even though they aren't in each other’s arms anymore, his picture of the two of them standing in a dark alley together will be incriminating enough. “To think, Cassidy’s whore is actually in bed with someone else.” 

 “Don’t you dare speak of her that way.” His voice sends chills down her spine, and she recalls what he’d told her once about his violent past. 

 “Or what, you’ll gut me like a fish? I don’t see your precious hook anywhere,” the man goads. He laughs before he says, “Don’t worry. Peter and Neal will probably give you the same treatment you gave to all of our rivals. Or maybe Neal’ll smash you over the head like he did your brother.” 

 “Shut up,” he warns. She sees Killian reaching behind himself, and when she looks down, he’s lifting his shirt and exposing a small gun that she didn’t know was resting at his hip. Her eyes widen and she gasps softly. 

 “As for the whore, I’m sure they’ll find an appropriate punishment. Maybe we'll all get to see her work with your other girlfriend after all. A whore like that, I’m sure she’s down for a couple of group scenes, and I doubt any of the guys will turn down that opportunity.” 

 “I’m warning you,” he says, his hand hovering over the gun but not yet gripping it. “If you go now-- if you stay silent-- I won’t kill you.” 

 He laughs condescendingly, stepping forward. “Honestly, even if they don’t go in that direction, I think I'll take the liberty myself. She’s whore enough to deserve it.”

 Rufio lunges for her quickly, Killian’s shouts breaking through the darkness as her back is pressed against the brick wall. She chokes out a cry as one hand grips her throat and his other yanks at the waist of her pants. 

 The oppressive nature of his touch is interrupted as Killian yanks him away from her before his hands can wander and throws him to the ground. “Get the fuck away from her,” Killian growls, aiming his gun right at her attacker’s head. 

 “Why, so you can have a go at her?” She watches Rufio shift, his hands reaching behind himself until she hears the cock of his own gun. “I know you want a taste of that pret--”

 His words and movements are cut off by a loud crack echoing through the air, nearly deafening her and stunning her to a state of violent rigidity. She can’t move, her muscles tense and nearly painful as she stands behind Killian’s broad form, refusing to look beyond him and meet what she knows will be lying on the ground. 

 The silence is deafening, her ears ringing and no other sound perceptible until she hears him say, “Fuck.”

 “Killian,” she breathes through a whisper. She places her hand on his shoulder and jumps when he does, her eyes wide and her hands shaking. 

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says again, tossing his gun to the ground with a crash and thrusting his hands into his hair. “Fuck!” 

 “Killian,” she tries again, a bit louder this time, and her voice sounds foreign as her ears continue to ring. “Killian!” she tries again when he doesn't answer. He turns to her suddenly, his eyes wide and startled, and she sees tears leaking from the corners. 

 “Emma, I-- I didn’t mean to.” 

 “It’s okay,” she tries to promise, but he shakes his head and starts pacing, walking in circles around her. 

 “Fuck, I-- I promised I wouldn’t. I said I won't do that anymore after Liam-- and then you-- but he--” 

 “Stop,” she tries, holding her hands in front of herself and dying to grab onto his own. “Please, just… Killian…” 

 He drops to the ground, sitting on his feet and resting his elbows on his knees, dropping his face to his hands. “Emma,” he mumbles into his palms, and before he can say anything more, she hears a sob breaking out of his throat. “Fuck, Emma--” 

 “It’s okay,” she says again, squatting to his level and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Killian, he would’ve told.” 

 “He threatened you. He attacked you-- he said he would… He pointed his gun at you.” 

 “I know,” she whispered. “He would’ve told Neal.” 

 “No,” he insists, finally looking up at her, and she’s met with such painful desperation in his tearful eyes that she can’t hold back her own tears. “He called you… the things he said he would do to you… he grabbed you. I couldn’t take it, Emma. When he pulled out his gun, I snapped. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

 “We didn’t have a choice, Killian. He would’ve told and we would’ve… he’s right. Neal and Peter would’ve killed you. And who knows what they would’ve done to me.” 

 She takes his face in her hands just as he had done for her mere moments ago. Things have changed so quickly. They went from anger to bliss to fear, and she has whiplash. She can’t keep up. All she wants is the joy that came from being with Killian. Kissing him and being in his arms let her fears melt away, and now that she’s had a moment lacking in terror, she wonders if she’ll survive long enough to feel that way again. She doubts it.

 “We have to clean this up,” she murmurs, her nose inches from his. 

 “We…?” he asks slowly, and although he previously refused to meet her eyes, unable to through his shock, he does now. All she sees is clarity and truth. 

 “Yes, we. We have to move… him. And then we have to go upstairs and make a plan, because I can’t stand to spend another day here.” 

 “Emma…” he starts, but she feels her own sense of urgency creeping up on her and she shakes her head.

 “We have to go,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to his lips if only to prove to him that she isn’t going anywhere. He did this, and although it wasn’t right, he did it for her. He did it to protect her, whereas Neal threw knives at her for sport. Killian loves her. Neal never has. 

 They stand together, Killian swaying slightly in shock when he sees what he’s done to Rufio. She takes his hand in hers and squeezes it, looking up at him and nodding in a silent vow that she’s here with him. He did this for her, and she’ll help him out of it. They find his phone and delete the photo he took of them. She takes his feet and Killian takes his hands, and together they hoist him over the side of the dumpster and let the top slam shut. 

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