#well technically i am because this was supposed to be for the baking prompt but i finished it until now so. pumpkin it is

[steveseddie]

sweet as pumpkin pie

steddie | rating: t | wc: 3,1 k | cw: none | tags: dustin & steve, dustin & eddie, eddie knows how to bake, steve has a crush, getting together, first kiss, steve pov

for @steddie-spooktober day twenty-four, prompt “pumpkin” 

read on ao3

Pounding at the door has Steve scrambling to his feet and hurtling towards the front door. He glances at Eddie on the couch and is relieved to find he’s still napping soundly, unbothered by the noise. 

Steve doesn’t want him to wake up, not when Eddie showed up an hour earlier looking exhausted after nightmares kept him up all night. The last thing Steve wants is for Eddie to lose any more sleep because whoever is at the door grows impatient and knocks harder. 

So he fumbles with the lock and swings the door open to reveal–

“Dustin?”  

“Steve, we have an emergency!” Henderson shrieks, his loud volume making Steve flinch.

His annoyance is immediately replaced by worry as the kid’s words register. His body tenses up, his fingers itch for his nail bat. “An Upside Down emergency?” 

“Worse!” Dustin says. Steve’s stomach churns and he feels sick. He tries to think what could be worse than an Upside Down emergency– “A baking emergency!” He finishes before Steve can spiral. 

He blinks at him. “A baking–” he starts in incredulity. “Henderson! Jesus fucking Christ, man.” He reaches over and flicks his stupid Thinking Cap. 

“What?” Dustin protests, swatting Steve’s hand away.

“That’s not worse than an Upside Down emergency! Nothing is worse than an Upside Down emergency!”

“Fine, but it’s up there,” Dustin argues stubbornly.

“Whatever,” Steve says, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wishes Eddie was awake so that they could share an exasperated look. “What’s the matter, shithead?”

“You know my mom isn’t home this week, right?”

“Yeah, she’s visiting family or something.” She told Steve as much when she called and asked him to keep an eye on her Dusty. 

“Right, well, the science club is in charge of the baking sale this week and she volunteered to bring something, but she forgot it was this week!” 

Steve blinks at him, failing to see what the problem is. “So? She left you money, right? Just buy some cupcakes at Melvald’s and bring those.”

Dustin gasps, affronted. “Steve, it’s a bake sale! Not a store-bought sale!”

“Things at stores were baked at some point too, butthead,” Steve argues, but Dustin keeps looking at him like he’s being stupid. “Geez, fine, what do you want me to do about it anyway?”

“I need you to bake me something, duh.”

Steve snorts. “Sure, yeah, I’d love to, except I don’t know how to bake.”

Dustin frowns. “Bullshit! You cook for us all the time!”

“Yeah, cook like actual food, not pies and shit,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the door.

“It’s the same thing!”

Steve thinks back on the time he tried to bake brownies for Nancy and how he almost burned his house down in the process. “It’s so not,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

Dustin groans, scrubbing his hands down his face. “But Steve, I need a pie!”

“Sorry, kid, you’re gonna have to ask someone else. Maybe Mrs. Wheeler or–”

“I can do it.”

Both of their heads snap towards the living room entrance where Eddie stands, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Christ, he’s cute, Steve thinks, and immediately feels his cheeks heat up. He hopes Eddie is still too groggy from sleep to notice. “Do what, Eds?” 

“Make Henderson a pie,” Eddie says, waving his hand at the kid. 

Dustin blinks at him with wide eyes. “You know how to bake a pie?” 

“Yup.”

Steve finds himself asking, “How?” 

Eddie snorts amusedly. “We have ovens in the trailer park too, rich boy,” he snarks but his words lack any heat. “Though I might have to borrow yours for this, ours hasn’t worked since the turkey incident of ‘84.”

Dustin and Steve exchange a look, equally shocked by what they’re hearing. 

“So,” Eddie goes on, clapping his hands together. “What kind of pie do you need, Henderson?” He asks as slides his Reeboks on, which he left by Steve’s door when he showed up. “Cherry, pumpkin, apple?”

“Uh, pumpkin?”

Eddie flashes him a dimpled grin. “My favorite,” he says, grabbing his car keys from the table at the entrance. “Let’s go then, shrimp.”

“I thought you were gonna make it here,” Steve says, confused by Eddie leaving.

“Gotta go shopping first, Stevie,” Eddie explains, van keys spinning around his finger. “And I gotta dust off the old recipe, it’s been a while since I used it.”

“Ugh, but I hate grocery shopping!” Dustin whines, earning a smack on the back of his head from Eddie.

“It’s your pie, Henderson. Suck it up.” 

Dustin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie turns to Steve, batting his long eyelashes at him. “You mind cleaning the oven for me in the meantime, sweetheart?”

Steve should protest that he didn’t agree to help, but with Eddie’s big doe eyes staring at him like that and him calling him sweetheart, all he can muster is a weak, “Yeah, okay.”

Eddie grins, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he grabs the back of Dustin’s neck and pushes him towards his van. “Be back in a few, honey!” He calls back to Steve. “And then we’re baking a pie!”

Steve watches them go and closes the door once the pair gets in the van. 

He’s in the kitchen, ready to clean his oven for Eddie when his words register in Steve’s brain.

“Wait– we?”

***

Eddie and Dustin come back an hour later, carrying everything they need. 

Dustin dumps his bags on the counter and immediately tries to retreat to the living room but Eddie moves faster. He grabs onto the handle of his backpack, pulling him to an abrupt stop, Dustin’s limbs flailing like a puppet on strings. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, tugging Henderson back into the kitchen. “I told you, it’s your pie so you’re helping.”

“But my mom never forces me to help!” He protests, trying to shrug off his backpack to escape. 

Eddie wraps an arm around his neck instead. 

“Yeah, well. Your mom is a saint, I’m not,” he says, letting him go once Dustin stops struggling and handing him a whisk and a list of ingredients for him to mix. 

Begrudgingly, Dustin accepts them and sets off to work on making the filling while Eddie and Steve work on the crust. 

Steve has to focus really hard on following Eddie’s instructions correctly. Not because the instructions are particularly complicated or anything, mostly it’s just ‘add this’ or ‘measure that’ or ‘hand me those’. It’s because Eddie is very distracting like this– with his hair tied in a messy bun, the sleeves of his flannel rolled over his forearms, flour smeared on his face.

And then there’s the familiarity with which he moves around Steve’s kitchen after spending so much time here, helping Steve cook or just keeping him company. And the confidence with which he measures, mixes, and adds ingredients, or tells Steve to do it. 

Steve always had a thing for competence. It’s why he was so attracted to Nancy, whether she was getting all of her chemistry flashcard questions right or shooting monsters in the face. It’s why he started crushing on Robin after she cracked that Russian code. Steve knows that if he had been there when Eddie played the most metal concert ever, and he had seen him shredding his guitar the way Dustin describes it, he would’ve been too busy drooling over him to fight Vecna. 

Eddie knowing how to make a pumpkin pie from scratch is no different– and if it weren’t for Dustin, Steve probably would’ve already pinned Eddie against the kitchen counter to sloppily make out with him. 

For now, Steve tries his best to pay attention to what Eddie asks him to do and not get distracted by thoughts of kissing him or dragging him upstairs or–

He realizes he fails when Eddie has to smear flour on his nose to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Steve protests weakly, going cross-eyed trying to stare at the white powder on his nose.

Eddie chuckles. “There you are, I’ve been talking to you for like, five minutes.” 

“Oh.” Steve must’ve gotten distracted staring at Eddie’s arms as he expertly kneaded the dough and rolled it into balls. He glances down at the counter and realizes he’s done already. Then he glances around the kitchen and notices it’s just the two of them. 

“Where’s Henderson?”

“Well, the filling is ready and we have to leave these babies in the fridge for two hours,” he says, holding up one of the dough balls. “So I sent him to pick a movie for us to watch in the meantime.”

“Oh, okay,” Steve says, wondering how he could’ve been so deep in thought that he missed all of that happening. He grabs one of the dough balls while Eddie grabs the other one, following him to the fridge. “Do we need this much pie crust?” He asks as Eddie opens the door. 

“I thought we could make two pies so I doubled the recipe. Henderson can take one and we can have the other,” Eddie says, sticking the dough in the fridge. “That way you can try it and I can take some back to Wayne. I don’t think we’ve had any homemade pumpkin pie since my mom died.”

Steve hums. “Is this her recipe?”

The smile Eddie gives Steve over his shoulder is a little sad. “Yeah, she taught me how to make it years ago.”

“I can’t wait to try it,” Steve says softly, knocking their shoulders together. 

Eddie spins on his heels, leaning back against the fridge. “I just hope I didn’t fuck it up, it’s been a while,” he chuckles, hanging a hand from his neck. 

Steve shrugs. “You can always blame me. Or Dustin.”

Eddie throws his head back, laughing. There’s a streak of flour on his neck and Steve has to fight the urge to clean it up with his tongue. “Nah, Stevie, you two are doing a great job,” Eddie says with a dimpled grin, “even the kid with his fucking attitude.”

Steve huffs, rolling his eyes. “Right? You’d think he’s doing us a favor.”

“Entitled little shit,” Eddie mutters, but the corners of his mouth tick up.

From the living room, Dustin yells at them, his voice dripping with annoyance. “You guys are gonna watch the movie or what?” 

Steve and Eddie share a look and start laughing. 

***

Two hours later the two of them are back in the kitchen, rolling out the pie crust. 

Or at least, Eddie is. Steve keeps messing it up. 

“Fuck,” he mutters as he screws it up again. “You know what? You do it.”

“Come on, Stevie, it’s not that hard,” Eddie says, knocking his bony hip against Steve’s. 

Whatever protest Steve is about to make dies in his throat when Eddie leaves his perfectly rolled-out pie crust and moves to stand behind him, pressing his body against Steve and Steve’s body against the counter, his arms wrapping around him so he can guide his hands on the rolling pin. 

“You gotta start at the center and work outwards,” Eddie says, speaking into Steve’s ear as he shows him how to do it. Steve can barely focus on anything that isn’t the entire length of Eddie’s body pressed against him. “Yeah, just like that.”

“Christ,” Steve mutters. Eddie’s words whispered lowly into his ear are making Steve’s head swim with all kinds of ideas. It’s a good thing that Eddie seems oblivious to it. 

“Now you do it,” Eddie says, letting go of Steve’s hands and holding Steve’s waist instead. 

Steve’s movements are a little jerky, but he manages to finish rolling out the pie crust successfully, even with Eddie standing behind him the entire time. 

“Great job, Stevie,” Eddie says, hooking his chin on Steve’s shoulder to look down at the counter. 

Steve makes the mistake of turning his head, leaving their faces only a few inches away from each other. Steve’s breath hitches and his heart starts jackhammering against his ribcage. It feels like it might explode out of his chest when he notices Eddie’s eyes unmistakably flicker down to his lips. 

And of course, that’s when Dustin comes barreling into the kitchen. 

“Are you guys done?” He asks, his arms crossed over his chest, his foot tapping on the floor impatiently. 

Steve drops the rolling pin and Eddie jumps back a few steps. Dustin’s eyes dart curiously between the two. 

Eddie clears his throat. “We’d be done sooner if you helped us,” he says, his voice coming out a little strangled. 

Dustin gives them an innocent look, eyes wide like he’s never done anything wrong in his life. “But you're doing such a great job, Eddie.” 

Eddie doesn’t fall for it. He snorts, throwing a kitchen cloth at his face. “Shoo, you gremlin!”

He doesn’t wait for Eddie to tell him twice, hurtling towards the living room. Steve watches in silence as Eddie carefully places the pie crust on the pan and pours the filling Dustin made.

“Now we wait?” Steve asks once both pies are inside the preheated oven. 

“Now we wait,” Eddie says, smiling at Steve. His eyes catch on something and then he reaches out to wipe flour from Steve’s cheek, his thumb lingering on his cheekbone for a second too long. 

His eyes flicker to Steve’s lips one last time before he goes to join Dustin in the living room. 

***

“I present to you," Eddie starts, spinning around on his heels, holding the pie in his hands, “your pumpkin pie, my good sir.”

Dustin grins, letting out something between a laugh and a snort. “Dude, it looks so good!”

“I told you I could bake,” Eddie says, grinning smugly. 

“Hey, we helped,” Steve says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Eddie sets the pie down on the counter so he can crowd Steve against it. “Oh, I know, baby, I could never have done it without you.”

Heat builds up in Steve’s cheeks. It’s a good thing that Eddie gets distracted by Dustin rounding the counter and wrapping his arms around his middle in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie ruffles Dustin’s curls. “You’re welcome, kid.”

Before Steve can protest once again that he helped, thank you very much, Dustin lets go of Eddie and hugs Steve too. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course, buddy.”

“I’ll tell Mom to have you both over for dinner when she comes back,” he says, adjusting his Thinking Cap. 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie says, licking his lips like he’s already tasting Mrs. Henderson’s cooking. “You just earned yourself a drive home, mister.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no way I’m letting you ruin my–” Steve clears his throat, “ our pie by taking it home on your bike.” He grabs Dustin’s shoulders, and once the kid grabs the pie, he steers him in the direction of the front door. “I’ll come back to help you clean up,” he tells Steve over his shoulder. 

“You better.”

With a wink, they disappear through the kitchen archway, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts. 

And he can’t help but think about Eddie– his eyes on Steve’s lips, his thumb softly brushing over Steve’s cheekbone, his chest pressed against Steve’s back. 

He forces himself to start cleaning up, just so he can stay busy and not drive himself crazy thinking about what might happen when Eddie comes back, now that Dustin won’t be here. 

He’s elbow-deep in rinsing water when he hears the front door open, followed by Eddie’s whistling as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie,” he says, waltzing in, “I told you I’d help!” 

Without turning around, Steve shrugs. “Grab a cloth, you can help me dry.”

He hears a cabinet open and close as Eddie presumably looks for a clean kitchen cloth but when he appears next to Steve, he’s got a plate with a slice of pumpkin pie on it. 

Steve purses his lips. “That’s not a kitchen towel,” he says matter-of-factly. 

“Nope, but I couldn’t wait to try it,” he says, leaning back on the counter, facing Steve. 

Steve gives the slice of pie a pointed look. “Well?”

Eddie grabs a forkful of pie and shoves it into his mouth while Steve stares expectantly at him, waiting for his reaction. It comes in the way of a sinful moan that makes Steve want to shove his head into the water to stop the heat from creeping up his cheeks. 

“I- uh,” he clears his throat, “I take it we didn’t fuck it up?”

Eddie licks his lips, and Steve’s hands tighten around the bowl he was rinsing. “Nop, it’s perfect. Just like my mama used to make it.”

Steve smiles at Eddie’s smug little tilt of his head as he shoves another forkful into his mouth. 

“Hey, I wanna try it too,” he says, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow. 

He expects Eddie to feed him some pie since his hands are still under the rinsing water and it’s probably what Eddie intends to do, he scoops some pie up with his fork–

But then he hesitates.

His eyes dart over Stece’s face, searching for something. He either finds it or gives up, dropping the fork back onto the plate and placing it on the counter next to him. 

Steve cocks his head, puppy-like, but before he can get a word out, Eddie grabs his cheeks and kisses Steve square on the lips. 

He instinctively kisses back– or does his best to do so considering his hands are still in the water. He moves his lips against Eddie’s and when Eddie laps at his bottom lip, Steve opens his mouth, letting Eddie’s tongue slide inside. 

He tastes like pumpkin pie, is Steve’s first coherent thought, followed by– holy shit, I’m kissing Eddie.

It’s that realization that makes Steve retrieve his hands from the sink, dripping water all over the floor, to wrap his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. He kisses him more deeply, chasing after that taste of pumpkin pie, and smoke, and cinnamon, and Eddie. 

They pull back when they finally need to come up for air but stay wrapped up in each other. 

Steve’s eyes dip down to Eddie’s lips, red and slick with spit. He hears them moving but realizes he didn’t hear whatever Eddie said from the blood still rushing through his ears. 

“Sorry, what?” 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “I said, what did you think of the pie?” 

“Oh, um. Good, it’s–” Steve licks his lips. “It’s good.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches with a hint of a smirk. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm but, uh, I think I need– I need to give it another try, you know?” Steve stammers out, watching as Eddie’s eyes go a little dark at that. He licks his lips and Steve does his best not to let out a whine. 

“Come here then, pumpkin,” Eddie says, pulling Steve forward, mashing their lips together. 

Neither of them points out it would be easier for Steve to grab a forkful of pie– they’re too busy chasing after the taste of it on each other’s mouths to even try. 

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Can’t leave me behind

Word count: 1668

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Warnings: None (lmk if I should add any)

Request: Could I request natasha x reader with actions 1 and 9 from the prompt list? (1 - Person A finding excuses to hold Person B’s hand, 2 - Person A and Person B are best friends but somehow start to get feelings for each other)

Summary: Natasha holds your hand to prevent you from rushing ahead of her and it’s all you can think about.

A/n: Thanks anon for requesting and sorry that it took me so long to actually write this! Btw this is from a prompt list I no longer use. Wow this one actually didn’t take too long to write! And I’m back on track in terms of writing fics so I’m happy! Anyways, you hear enough of me rambling in the a/n, enjoy the fic!

“Where to now?” You ask as you both exit the small coffee shop you frequent.

“Well I thought that instead of going straight back to the tower we could take a detour through the park, I heard there’s a farmers market going on right now.” She tells you. “But we could just go straight home if you want to.” 

“A farmer’s market sounds great!” You say excitedly, immediately walking in the direction of the nearby park. Natasha gives a small smile at your cuteness before covering it back up and taking a few quick steps so she’s walking beside you. 

The park is only a few blocks away and the farmers market is much bigger than you imagined it would be. Tents line the path selling freshly grown fruits and vegetables, bread, baked goods, honey, meat and some independent food vendors. There are also a few tents that look to be selling jewelry and bags instead of food. Immediately you’re at the first stand looking over the selection of freshly picked berries. Natasha catches up, huffing in annoyance at you. You ignore her, continuing to look over the berries before picking the best of each type; blueberries, raspberries and strawberries.

“Can we get them?” You ask, giving Natasha the best pleading eyes you can.

She sighs, giving in easily. “Fine.” You pump your hand in the air in victory, missing her smile about how cute you look. She quickly pays the owner of the stall and then follows as you search for another place to go.

“Ooooo can we get cookies?” You ask her when you see the bakery stand because the cookies look amazing.

“Of course!” She replies. “Why don’t we go to the juice stand because it’s closer first…” She trails off as she notices that you’ve already made your way to the stand, leaving her behind. She shakes her head at how excitable you are, talking to the person working there enthusiastically, pointing out different cookies.

“Y/n!” She admonishes lightly when she arrives at the stand.

“Sorry.” You tell her, unapologetic. She shakes her head but then buys the cookies you want, plus extras for the team. You almost feel bad that she’s paying for everything but you want cookies so you aren’t going to complain.

“You need to stop running off.” She tells you when you start to walk away, already leaving her behind as she puts the box of cookies in her bag with the berries. “From now on you’re staying with me.” You open your mouth to retort but all that comes out is incomprehensible babbling because she grabs your hand and holds it, not letting go.”

“What-what is that for?” You ask when you regain your normal speaking abilities.

She smirks. “Well now you can’t rush off without me. Do you have any problems with this?”

“No.” You squeak, happy to hold onto her hand.

“Good.” She replies, starting to walk and lead you around the market like nothing is wrong. You don’t even feel the urge to run off again because you honestly can’t pay full attention to anything but Natasha’s hand around your own. She keeps holding it as you go around to stands and doesn’t let it go even on the walk back to the tower. Although you probably should have gotten used to it after the first few minutes you still can’t concentrate as you get on the elevator with her and make your way up to the avengers area.

“Woah, woah, woah, Natasha and Y/n are holding hands!” Tony announces as soon as you step out. Embarrassed you drop her hand. 

“It’s because I kept leaving her behind so she didn’t want me to run away again.” You explain, your cheeks burning.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love?” Tony asks, singsonging the word love. Natasha keeps her composure as always but you nearly choke.

“I’m going to give Bruce a cookie, bye!” You blurt out leaving the room as fast as you can.

“I did not see her holding any cookies.” Steve says, confused by your antics.

Natasha laughs. “That’s because she wasn’t.”

“No. We are not changing the conversation.” Tony butts in. “You were holding hands with Y/n.”

“And what about it?” Natasha counters, raising an eyebrow delicately, something she knew the entire team was jealous of.

“What about it? What about it?” Tony splutters. “The black widow doesn’t just hold hands with people! Are you guys dating?”

“Not yet,” Natasha admits, “I’m dropping some hints before I officially ask her out because I want to be sure she likes me, I can’t ruin our friendship over some one sided feelings.”

“I may not know much about love but Y/n is head over heels for you Natasha.” Steve assures her. “She is always happy around you.”

“Not to mention how flustered she gets.” Tony replies, helpful for once. 

“I’ve been noticing more and more, so should I just go ask her out now?” She asks. 

“Go for it.” Steve encourages and Natasha smiles, nods and begins to walk towards the door. 

“Good luck Romanoff!” Tony shouts after her. “Go get your girl!”

---

“Bruce, hi.” You say, out of breath from your run to the kitchen where you found him.

“Hi.” He replies, bemused. 

“I brought cookies!” You bring up your hands to show him, realizing in horror you had forgotten them. “I’m so sorry, I accidentally forgot to grab them from Nat.”

“It’s okay.” He chuckles. “Maybe we could go get them now?”

You shake your head violently. “No, nope, no, no, no, no, no. We definitely can’t do that.” 

“And why not?” He asks.

“Because I ran away from her.” You reply, feeling a little embarrassed about that now. Natasha had obviously noticed, she notices everything so you just hope she doesn’t ask about your strange behaviour.

“And you ran away from her because…” Bruce prompts, wanting to hear why although already suspecting the general reason.

“Because we were at the farmers market and I kept going ahead of her so she held my hand to keep me beside her but she didn’t let go and it made me feel nervous but it felt so nice and then Tony and Steve saw and asked if we were in love so I left quickly because I’m sort of maybe in love with her.” You ramble, not taking a breath. 

“Okay, calm down.” Bruce instructs. “Do you want to tell her you’re in love with her?”

“Of course not.,” you reply, “I’ve kept it hidden for months and I’m not going to stop now. I’m not going to lose my best friend over some one sided feelings.”

“Sometimes being truthful and open is better in the long run.” Bruce says and you guess it’s supposed to be smart but you are way too scared of Natasha’s reaction to tell her.

“Yeah ok.” You respond sarcastically. “What am I supposed to say? Hi Natasha, I just wanted to let you know that you holding my hand makes me flustered and unable to think because I’m in love with you. By the way I’m sorry I ruined our friendship.”

“Um, I think I’m going to go now.” Bruce says and you look at him confused. He gestures over your shoulder to the doorway where Natasha is standing.

“No, no, please stay.” You beg, and he hesitates on his way out.

“Please go Bruce.” Natasha says, pleasantly but firmly and with that he leaves, giving you a thumbs up behind her back.

Natasha takes a step further into the kitchen and you take a small step back. She takes another and you step back again, gulping. She tilts her head the the side and you can’t see what she’s thinking.

“I make you flustered?” She asks and you nod, knowing there’s no point in hiding it anymore. “And you love me?” You nod again, looking at the ground, the lights, the salt that’s on the counter, looking at anything just to avoid looking at her. 

When you finally look back she’s closer, much closer, just a little bit more than an arms length away. You step back again, you can’t breath. She steps forward, a big step and you try to move back but the counter blocks you. Technically you could go to the sides but you’re not thinking rationally right now, all you can think about is Natasha getting closer and closer until she is close enough to touch.

“Are you flustered now?” She asks, her voice low and flirty, nothing you’ve heard directed at you before.

You feel your face start to heat up. “A little.”

“Hmmm, only a little huh?” She asks rhetorically, stepping in so her body is only an inch from yours. “I’ll have to fix that.” 

You don’t know how to respond but you don’t have to because before you can think she’s leaning in and her lips are on yours and you can’t breathe again. It’s the best thing that you’ve ever felt and you close your eyes to focus on her lips against yours. All too soon she pulls back and you pout at the distance.

“What about now?” She asks.

“I-I, you, it, kiss what.” You respond, your brain not catching up to the situation.

She smirks. “That good?” You nod in reply, not trusting your mouth again. “Well then how about we go on a date? I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six from your room, wear something nice.”

She doesn’t bother waiting for a reply, striding from the room with a level of confidence you could only wish to have. You’re left staring at the doorway with a loopy look on your face, startling when Tony walks through it.

“I see you’ve talked to Natasha.” Is all he says, before casual grabbing a snack and walking out. Leaving you to your thoughts which have returned to being coherent. A smile spreads across your face, you have a real date with Natasha!

---

Taglist: @fayhar @stephanieromanoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @acertainredhead @madamevirgo @megaqueenmaeve @cherryblossomskye @thewidowsghost @nyx-aira @stephanieromanoff @stop-drop-and-drumroll @peggycarter-steverogers @casperlikej @wandas-vis @mxxnmocha @king-star​ 

[night-fallz]

XY’s Muse

Based on this prompt

It was raining and it was just the perfect atmosphere for me to write in. I hope you guys like this chapter. And like I have previously stated in the previous chapters, any criticism will be welcome.

uploaded on 01/28/21

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Ao3 // Wattpad

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Chapter 3

Marinette was sitting on a bench waiting for XY to arrive. She was nervous. Their conversation last night would not leave her head.

Marinette felt her cheeks heat up. 

He called me princess.

When Chat Noir called her that she just felt annoyed. But with XY, it only made her heart beat faster.

"Marinette!" she heard a familiar voice yell. Marinette turned around and noticed XY running up to her. When he finally reached her, he was out of breath. "I've been looking all over for you." He managed to say between gasps.

Marinette looked at him up and down with a bit of disgust. "What kind of disguise is this!" she yelled at him.

XY was wearing a sage-green crewneck that says 'NIKE' in the middle with baggy jeans and black converse. His outfit wasn't the worst. In fact, Marinette liked it. But what she didn't like were the accessories she chose. He was wearing an obnoxious cowboy hat with huge sunglasses that almost covered the upper part of his face. To make it worse, XY was also wearing an obnoxiously fake mustache.

XY winced at her reaction and meekly said, "A disguise?"

Marinette let out a huff. "I can not believe I am being seen next to you right now. The fashion gods must've cursed me or something."

XY let out a laugh and Marinette had a feeling that he was rolling his eyes at her. Of course, she couldn't be sure because of those hideous sunglasses. XY tugged her arm, "Come on." he smirked. "The faster we get to your house, the faster you won't be seen with a so-called fashion disaster like me."

Marinette scrunched her nose and started walking towards the bakery. "Hurry up." She exclaimed, letting out a small laugh. "I already know that you can't come up with a subtle disguise, but I hope that you aren't slow as well."

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

XY was out of breath, yet again, when they arrived at the front door of the bakery. "You're fast." He let out a breath. “That wasn’t fair. I literally ran to the park so I could hang out with you, then you make me run even more.”

Marinette pulled the door open and winked at him. "I know." She gave her parents a quick hug and turned back to XY. "Do you want anything?"

XY looked at the baked goods and scrunched his eyebrows. "Can I have a croissant and a strawberry macaroon, please?"

He was about to reach for his wallet when Marinette quickly stopped him. "It's on the house." She said reassuringly. XY opened his mouth to protest and Marinette narrowed her eyes and gave him the items he wanted. "It's on the house," she repeated, this time glaring at him..

XY looked at Mrs. Dupain-Cheng for help but she only gave him a smile. "Don't argue with her, dear. She does this for all her friends. She won't take no for an answer."

"My mom's right." Marinette agreed. "Now come on” Marinette tugged his sleeve. “We have plans to make."

Before he could reply, Marinette led him upstairs to her bedroom.

"Woah," XY exclaimed in surprise.

Whatever he was expecting Marinette’s room to look like, it was not this.  

"Why are you so sho-" Marinette stopped talking right when she turned so she could face her room and her face went bright red. She let out a scream of embarrassment. "I swear I thought I put all of this away! I can't believe I forg- UGH!" she let out a huff of frustration. "You think I'm creepy now, don't you." she said, her eyes on the ground.

XY gave her room another quick glance before facing her. She had Adrien Agreste's face everywhere. There were posters with Adrien's face all over her wall. The wallpaper on her desktop was Adrien. Her room was basically an Adrien Agreste shrine.

Yet, XY had seen worse. Seeing her room, it was obvious that she has a crush on Adrien Agreste. He held in a scoff. Of course, she does. He thought. Why would she ever like me anyways. I’m a nobody when compared to the so-called sunshine boy of Paris.

XY could feel Marinette's eyes staring at him. He's been silent for a while.

Marinette probably assumed that he hated her and thought she was a creep. "Nope," XY said, a bit louder than necessary. He winced before he added, "I don't think you're a creep." his voice a bit softer this time.

"Yes, you do," Marinette stated, her hands hiding her face. "You took way too long to respond."

"I was taking in the scenery."

"What scenery?" Marinette asked. Though, XY could hear a teasing tone behind it. "My embarrassed face or my even more embarrassing room." Marinette plopped down on her bed. "I thought I took down all the posters and got rid of his face on my desktop." She faced him and smiled sheepishly, "I guess I was so excited to meet up with you that I forgot to take all this-" she gestured around her room "off."

"If it helps," XY tried to say. "This really isn't that bad." When Marinette stared at him as if he grew a tail, he added. "Trust me, I've seen way worse."

And just like that, the tense and awkward atmosphere was gone.

It was silent for a few seconds when Marinette spoke. "Me and my friend Alya” Marinette wouldn’t meet his eyes again. “We were supposed to take down all my posters and burn them." It was XY's turn to stare at Marinette as she was the one who grew a tail, but Marinette didn’t notice it or she just ignored him. "I'm over him. I actually can't believe I ever liked him in the first place."

"What changed?"

Marinette waved the question off. "I'll tell you later. Now, let's start planning the photo shoot."

XY stared at her for a few seconds, trying to see if she was telling the truth or not. "Okay.” He surrendered. “But you're telling me everything later."

"Maybe Marinette teased. "Now come on XY-"

"Xavier." he interrupted. Marinette scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "Call me Xavier."

"Oh." Marinette looked at him with a cute smile on her face. "Well come on Xavier," she said his name in a teasing tone. "Let's get planning."

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

Planning her 'I'm back cause I didn't realize that I somehow have over 200,000 followers on insta' photoshoot took a lot faster than Marinette thought it would.

XY, no, Xavier was a natural at it. She guessed it was because he was used to this kind of thing.

Marinette looked at her pink notebook. It was where she wrote down all the plans they made and the suggestions he gave her. "Thank you so much for helping me!" she exclaimed in excitement. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Xavier took a bite out of his macaroon, "You're welcome. It wasn't that hard anyways, so it's all good."

Marinette studied him. Technically, she couldn’t take her eyes off of him, but same thing.

He took off that horrible disguise of his so she could actually see his face.

Like Marinette said before, Xavier was hot. He had a sharp jawline, which brought out his ocean blue eyes and his golden blonde hair was shining in the sun.

If Xavier ever asked Marinette who she believed his godly parent was, she would definitely say Apollo. Apollo was often described by Percy as hot. Someone with blonde hair and blue eyes. It also helps that Xavier was a musician.

Marinette let out a dreamy sigh before quickly widening her eyes. She tried to make it look like she wasn't staring at him but it was too late.

Xavier caught her. He gave her a smirk that practically made Marinette melt and raised an eyebrow. "Take a picture. It'll last longer."

Marinette wanted to take him up on that offer. Instead, she forced out a laugh and threw a pillow at him. "Wow. How original."

Xavier rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

Could this guy get any hotter?

"So." Xavier said.

"So?" Marinette replied with confusion.

"What's up with you burning down all the pictures of-" he gestured at her posters.

"Oh," Marinette couldn’t bring himself to meet his eyes. "That."

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft.

Marinette looked at him in surprise.

Should she lie?

Marinette couldn’t bring himself to lie to him. He asked her that question with such sincerity. As if he actually wanted to know if she was okay

Instead, Marinette scoffs. "Did you know that you’re the second person who ever asked me that question?"

He didn’t reply.

Stupid. Marinette scolded herself. Why did she say that to him? Now he was going to hate her and think she’s just looking for attention.

Marinette stiffened. Xavier’s arms were around her.

He was giving her a hug.

Usually, Marinette would be freaking out about someone like him hugging her.

But right now, all she could do was hug him tighter and finally let go of all the tears that she's been holding in.  

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

Note: I suck at writing sad scenes. So don't end up being surprised if my attempted angsty chapters end up being cringy.

Also, how do you guys want me to address XY? Do you want me to keep addressing him as XY or Xavier outside of Marinette's dialogue? I tried to address him with his actual name, Xavier, in this chapter. But I don't really know if I like it or not, so please give me your feedback on that.

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

previous II next

1,528 words.

Tag list:

@iglowinggemma28 @mica-aa @lady-bee-fechin @maskedpainter @snnoww26 @ravenr22 @spiritofchaoticdreams @ravennm84 @heaven428 @finn-cipher @peterxwade24 @aliceofice22 @queenamongthorns @captainmac6 @ladiiwhisper @thezestywalru @mica-aa @runestarchild @theymakeupfairies @para-dox-normal @futursworld 

[echos-newlegs]

I return with part two of this fic. I dunno how good it will be, started it at 11:37pm because I can’t sleep lmao. I found a prompt list tho and I’ll be posting that shortly 😳. Also I am a Tom boy so please excuse this chapter. I dunno words of things or how most girls dress up for dates. I’ve never been on one, and my purse is deep, blue Jean, pockets and a Star Wars wallet ✌️🥸

Warnings: Implied sexual themes, it doesn’t go into depth though. I may write the hanky panky in a separate chapter if y’all want.

Part one - This is part two

You and Echo hung out anytime he made his return to Corusant. It could be days after, or even months. Echo always had this horrid feeling that one mission would go wrong, and he wouldn’t be able to see you again. Or that you would decided seeing a clone wasn’t worth it, and move on. If you would even consider what the two of you had as, ‘seeing one another.’ You on the other hand were just worried for his safety. He didn’t make you feel self conscious or like he would move on and find someone new. He was so loyal, even if what you had wasn’t official.

After nearly six months of knowing one another. Seeing each other a near twelve times, bringing both you and your daughter back a gift after each mission. Or just a fun story about he and his brothers for the two of you. Though, Echo finally asked the last time if he could officially take you on a date. One with just the two of you. He adored your daughter, but having a five year old running around did tend to kill the mood, and you understood. Nearly jumping into his arms with a grin as you kissed his cheek. Blurting ‘yes!’ almost a little, too excitedly.

You were just getting ready to leave your house. Purse hung over your shoulder as your shoes clicked on the tile of your kitchen. You weren’t wearing anything super fancy, you didn’t wanna overwhelm yourself or Echo. It was still casual, but it was nicer than your normal. Exiting the house and locking the door behind you, after making sure the lights were all off for the thousandth time. When Echo came up behind you with a grin. “You ready?” He asked, you jumped a bit and you turned to see him. He wasn’t in his armor for once, nor his blacks. Which he would occasionally lounge around your home in until— who you learnt was his brother Fives— was ready to leave.

You smiled and swatted at his arm. “Warn a girl before sneaking up on her,” you teased. Echo tittering a bit. “Not my fault you’re always so jumpy,” “am not,” “Y/N, I could argue differently. You nearly punched me last time I saw you because your daughter let me in the house.” You scoffed, the two of you beginning your stroll down the street to who knows where. “You deserved it, not like I expected someone in full armor to be standing in my kitchen eating Star cherry dessert!” Echo laughed at that, causing you to laugh with him.

The two of you continued your stroll. You were thankful to have a night to yourself. Plus C/N got a night with friends. “Where are we going, anyways?” You asked, looking to your side to see Echo grinning. “You’ll see.” Was all he said. You weren’t really one for surprises. You were impatient and somewhat stubborn, and he knew this. Causing a sigh to leave your lips as the two of you strolled the dim lit streets.

Echos hand brushed against yours, fingers reaching to catch yours. You accepting his offer. Taking his hand into your own and leaning against his side a bit. You could of swore you heard him release a breath, too. Making you smile a bit more. In all honesty, even if the two of you just walked around the city, you would be the happiest person alive. Internally squealing when his thumb started rubbing over the back of your hand.

You came up to a diner, tilting your head a bit. “Echo, I could have made us something.” You spoke, looking over to him and he shook his head. “No no, this is supposed to be us relaxing and spending time with each other. Not me making you cook.” You were about to argue with him, but the look he gave you made you close your mouth and nod in agreement. “Alright, but I’m paying for myself.” Echo snickered and pulled you inside. “Alright, fine, deal.”

The two of you sat at a booth by the window. Across from one another as music played in the background, faintly. You both gazed over the menu, deciding what looked best. “You ever been here, Echo?” You asked, looking up to catch his gaze. “No, actually, but I’ve wanted to try it, have you?” You nodded, “I work here,” you added with a grin as you watched his smile fade. “Oh, I uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” You snickered, shoving him from across the table. “Echo, I’m kidding, I work at a repair shop. I used to work here though, back when I was a teen.” You added and he smiled once more. Stars, how you could watch him smile for hours.

He raised a brow and stared at you, interested. “You repair things, like what?” “Speeders, droids, tech, you name it. It was something I learnt from my dad and brothers, and it pays the rent.” You added and he nodded. “Might have to have you look over my communicator for my helmet some time,” and you hummed in thought. “It’ll cost you,” he raised his brows. Grin only widening. “Oh yeah, and what’s the price?” Though before you could even think of a response the waitress was there with a pen in hand. “What will the lovely couple have to drink.” The comment caught you both off guard, blushing and rambling. “Oh,” “we’re not-“ “he’s just-“ “A friend?” The waitress asked, a hip popped out as she smiled mischievously at the two. “Uh huh, and I work here for fun. What’ll it be for drinks?”

The two of you stared at her and then glanced at each other. You speaking up first, since it was obvious Echo had no idea what he wanted. “A Star Cherry malt, please.” The waitress nodded, and wrote it down. “Just one or two?” “Just one,” Echo interrupted you before you could speak. You glanced over to catch him smile. “Alright, one Star cherry malt on its way.” And off she went.

The moment she returned with the drink Echos eyes lit up with curiosity. “Do you two need a moment before you order?” “Yes please, ma’am,” you spoke, and she nodded. Walking off again. You looked back to Echo and raised a brow. “Have you ever had a malt?” He shook his head, ‘no.’ You would have been surprised, if he hadn’t acted like you made gold each time he ate with you at home. “No, on Kamino, we were...” he trailed off a bit. “Programmed to not intake sweets. It messes with our energy.” He added and you snorted. “It messes with everyone’s energy, hun. Now try some. If you like the cookies I bake, then you should like this flavor.” He didn’t think twice before taking one of the straws and taking a drink.

His eyes were focusing. Eyebrows raised. Pulling back to look at you with a childish grin. “So?” “It’s amazing! Why do I even listen to anyone besides you, I’ve been hidden from everything!” He exclaimed and you couldn’t help but giggle. Pointing out some of your favorites on the menu. He stuck to some simple things. The two of you splitting fries and eating burgers. Absolutely enjoying your time together.

Once finished, you paid, like you said you would. He didn’t argue either. The two of you walking home, hand in hand. “When will you be back?” You asked, expecting he would have to leave the moment you got back to yours. “Tomorrow, if you’ll let me? We don’t leave for our next mission until the day after, I technically don’t even have to be back to the bunks tonight. I could crash on your couch if I wanted.” He told you. You looking up to him with a grin. “You know, the heater in my apartment went out, I’m doubtful you’d want to stay on my couch.” You spoke, looking down towards your feet. Him sighing and pulling you closer. Draping an arm over your shoulders. “Well, now I want to more, I thought you fixed things anyways?” He asked and you furrowed your brows with a grin. Pulling your keys out and unlocking your door when the two of you got to your place.

You pushed the door open and pulled him inside. Shutting it behind the two of you. “I do, but no ones asked me to. I don’t just hand out help for free, you know.” You told him. Making it a point to drag your hand up his arm as you walked off down the hall. Flipping on the lights. You knew he was right behind you, too. Following you like a lost dog. “So, did you wanna stay the night?” You asked, looking back to him, and he shrugged. Licking his lips as he looked around and then back to you. “I can, if you’ll let me. I can get out of your hair, if you want me to?” He asked. “Come back tomorrow.” You shook your head with a grin. “No need, we can watch a movie and lay on the couch for a bit, then you can keep me warm tonight.” You added with a wink. Snickering at the taken back expression he gave you. “I’ll return, I’m going to go change, you get comfy, Echo.” You murmured and he nodded. “Sure thing, Cyar’ika.” He added, and pulled his nice clothes off. Blacks resting underneath as they normally were.

When you returned your hair was down, what little makeup you had on was removed, plus you were in your sleep wear. Baggy clothing that made you look smaller in his eyes, but he loved it. He was sitting on the couch already, waiting for you to return. You smiled and grabbed the remote as you sat next to him with a sigh. Looking over at his awkward form. Scrunched together, hands to himself. He didn’t cease to surprise you. How one second he could be touchy, and the next moment too embarrassed to even hold your hand anymore. “You know, you don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.” You added. Looking at the screen. Finding a holovideo for the two of you to watch. Or even just have it as background noise.

Your lips pressed together when he eventually wrapped his arm around you. Pulling you against him as you rested your head against his shoulder. Neither of you were really paying attention to the screen at this point. Too distracted by one another’s presence. Hands eventually finding one another. “What does.. Cyar’ika mean?” You asked. Looking up to him with a curious and innocent gaze. A blush creeping up the back of his neck as he pretended to pay attention to what was happening in the holo. “It uh..” He stammered, you listening intently. “It means, sweetheart. Or Darling.” He admitted. Glancing down to meet your gaze. You were in awe, really. It really did mean the world to you.

Then you got an idea. Eyes darting down to his lips, and then back to his eyes. “I think I know what it’ll cost for me to look at your helmet,” Echo was curious now. Turning a bit to face you with a small smile. “Oh, and what is that?” You sat up a bit more. Leaning a bit closer to his face. “A kiss.” You murmured, lips ghosting against his. His hands moving to hold at your waist and his attention was all yours now. Both of your faces heated red. Hearts pounding in your chest. You squirming a bit under his touch and gaze. “Then what are you waiting for?” He asked, and that was all you need before your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, everything you imagined from the Arc Trooper. Hands reaching up to cup the sides of his face as your lips danced a slow rhythm. Humming a bit into the kiss as he pushed you back and down against the couch. Shifting himself to he was placed in between your legs, hovering above you.

When your lips parted you nearly whined. The two of you panting, eyes half lidded. Eyes roaming each other’s faces. “You ready for bed yet?” You asked with a small smile and a smirk. Echo grinning down at you. Though this grin was a bit wolffish, wild. Full of mischief. “Is that even a question, cyare?” He asked, voice a bit gruff as he leant down and captured your lips again. Before moving off and lifting you from the couch. Carrying you back into your room. Legs and arms wrapping around him as the two of you were a bunch of giggling messes. Kissing here and there as he scurried off with you in your arms. That night you and him both kept warm, almost too warm at some points.

[mattholicguilt]

cats in the cradle by Duck_Life

Fandoms: Supernatural [Gen, No Archive Warnings Apply] Words: 1,745

Tags: Claire Novak & Patience Turner, Cats, Psychic Abilities, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Friendship, Found Family, claire novak will see a stray animal and be like, is anyone gonna project onto this, and not wait for an answer

Summary: Claire helps Patience hone her abilities. Patience helps Claire track down a cat.

Written for SPN Women Week Day 1. Prompt: "skills"

Bub is missing again.

“Bub” is the name of a mean stray cat missing a chunk from his ear. Claire’s been leaving cat food out for the ugly old thing for weeks now, and whenever he doesn’t come running she panics.

So, for the third time, Patience finds herself enlisted in the search for a cat that Claire doesn’t even technically own. “If it’s gonna bother you this much every time,” Patience says, “why don’t you just take it in? You know, get him his shots, a collar, a microchip.”

Claire makes a face at her before turning back to look at the road. She’s been driving around the neighborhood slowly, scoping out every shrub and checking under every parked car. “Bub doesn’t want to be chained down,” she explains. “He’s a free spirit.”

Alright, well, Patience is too tired to unpack that right now. She lets it lie and looks out the passenger’s side window, alert for any signs of movement. “Maybe he was never a stray at all,” she tries, “and his owner finally tracked him down and brought him home.”

“Do you know that?” Claire asks.

Claire’s always asking if Patience knows things— what happened on Jody’s date last weekend, what Dean’s middle name is, whether or not Alex is the one who ate the last ice cream sandwich in the freezer. Patience keeps trying to explain that she can only see the future. “Psychic” might be a misnomer— her abilities are precognitive, not telepathic.

She basically gets previews, little spoilers about what’s to come. And though she’s been working at it, she can’t seem to get her psychic abilities to do the kind of reading and divination her grandma could do. She gets glimpses with no context, no backstory.

Missouri Moseley could walk into a room and feel every ounce of heartbreak, grief, hope and faith in the people standing there. Patience can barely pick up on it when Alex and Claire are pissed at each other.

Still, Claire brings her along whenever the cat goes missing. Seems to think her ESP can home in on missing animals. Patience keeps telling her otherwise, and yet here she is, once again. That’s the trouble with having no social life and no better plans.

Maybe she should join a book club.

Claire rounds the corner, eyes darting around for any sight of the mangy cat. The first time Bub vanished from Claire’s sight, all the neighbors seemed intent to help. They explained they hadn’t seen the cat, but hoped Claire would find him soon and offered baked goods and platitudes in the meantime.

But these things have an expiration date. You can only lose the cat so many times before the routine gets old and the neighbors lose interest.

“My educated guess ?” Patience sighs. “The cat’ll come back when it gets hungry. Just like before.”

Claire makes a tch sound and mouths “educated guess” under her breath. Apparently, because Patience is psychic she’s supposed to be omniscient. “So which is it?” Claire says. “Is he back with his ‘real’ owners or is he going to come home when he gets hungry?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Patience says. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’m helping you.”

“... Yeah. You are,” Claire says, ducking her head. “Sorry.” Her eyes scan the road ahead, looking for the telltale streak of a cat darting out from under a parked car or vanishing around a tree trunk. Still nothing. “Hey, Patience the Pet Psychic,” Claire says. “You should write that down, that’d be a great children’s book.”

“Very funny,” Patience says, rolling her eyes. She’s silent for a few moments and then says, “Cla-aire the Monster Slayer.”

“That doesn’t really rhyme.”

“Sure it does.”

When the sky darkens and the streetlights flick on, Claire drives them back to the house, Bub-less and dejected. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Patience tries.

Claire bunches her shoulders, the collar of her leather jacket looking like a cat’s raised hackles. Maybe, Patience thinks, that’s the connection— Claire in many ways resembles an angry cat. She and Bub might be kindred spirits.

“I’m just tired,” Claire says, yanking the keys out of the ignition. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Patience considers pointing out that Claire could at least ask instead of just assuming , considers reminding Claire that she has her own life outside of playing “pet psychic.”

But she doesn’t actually have anything to do tomorrow. Or the rest of the week. And as futile as it feels riding around looking for a runaway cat, it is something to do. And it makes Claire feel better.

And… straining her psychic muscles to pick up on any trace of the old tomcat is at least better than doing nothing and letting her abilities degrade. Over the last year, she’s been trying to find ways to train her brain, shape her psychic visions into something useful.

Jody’s supportive, but she, like most people, doesn’t know anything about being psychic. Kaia’s got a fraught relationship with her own special skills and usually chooses not to talk to Patience about seeing the future, and Alex is so entrenched in nursing and hunting that the few “normal” moments she gets at home are devoted to unwinding and relaxing.

Which makes Claire Patience’s most ardent supporter in developing her psychic abilities. A very grouchy, blonde and mostly clueless Yoda. What she lacks in background knowledge she makes up for in persistence.

“Hey, Patience, guess which hand?” Claire will ask, holding the last fortune cookie behind her back. “Hey, Patience, what number am I thinking of?” Claire will ask, perched on the arm of the couch. “Hey, Patience, heads or tails?” Claire will ask, flipping a coin to catch it in midair.

That’s not how it works. That’s not how any of it works— Patience can’t predict things at will. Her psychic visions operate on a schedule of their own, with no concern for Patience’s own convenience or comfort. One minute, she’s watching shitty reality TV while Alex nods off on her shoulder. The next, she’s watching Jody narrowly avoid being bitten by a vampire.

It’s a lot different from just guessing a coin toss. Still. Patience can’t help but think that her grandma would’ve passed all of Claire’s little tests with flying colors.

That night, Patience doesn’t dream about anything— at least, not anything useful. She has an anxiety dream about being lost in Aldi, roaming the aisles with increasing frustration. But nothing about the future. Nothing about Bub the cat.

She’s pouring herself a bowl of cereal when Claire stomps inside, the porch door swinging shut behind her. “Still gone,” she says darkly, grabbing the cereal box and her own bowl. “Food hasn’t been touched.”

“Claire,” Patience says, “why don’t we just go to the SPCA? You can get yourself a cat that’s not, you know—”

“What? Not damaged? Not a lost cause? Not hard to love?”

Whoa, Patience wants to say. “A cat that’s not missing ,” she finishes. “We can get him his shots and a collar and everything.”

“I don’t— I don’t just want some random cat,” Claire says. “I want to find Bub. I want… I want to find him and bring him home. I have to bring him home.”

“I know,” Patience says, and just like that she does . She does know.

She knows everything, feels everything, the aching loss in Claire’s bones that’s both recent and so, so old. Memories of Claire hitchhiking and stealing and conning her way through the country, desperately chasing a mother who was desperately chasing a dead man. Jimmy Novak’s voice in her head, his face seen through Claire’s eyes, Please, Castiel, take me. Just take me. Again, his forehead pressed to hers, Take care of your mom, okay, bub?

Bub.

Patience looks at Claire. Sees her, in a way she hasn’t been able to see anyone before. “Bub… ‘bub’ is what your dad used to call you.”

Claire squints at her. “Uh. Yeah,” she says. “Wait, I didn’t… I didn’t tell you that.”

“No,” Patience breathes, meeting her eyes across the kitchen, “you didn’t.”

Slowly, a grin spreads across Claire’s face. “Holy shit , Patience, you just… ? You just did that. You, like, read me.”

“I, uh, I didn’t know. That I could do that,” Patience says, caught between marveling at this new development and feeling self-conscious at intruding on Claire’s emotions and her past.

Claire doesn’t seem put off at all. She’s actually bouncing with excitement. “We gotta test this out. Oh my God. It’s like a whole new Pokemon evolution for you.”

“It’s not really. Like that. In any way.”

But Claire is already humming the Pokemon theme song. She grabs her car keys. “Alright, well, let’s go look for that cat. I’ve got a good feeling about today.”

“I read you, Claire, that doesn’t mean I can read the cat,” Patience reminds her.

“Yeah, yeah, but you can still help me look,” Claire says. “I don’t need your third eye, just the two on your face.”

“That’s… yeah, fine,” Patience acquiesces. To be honest, she’s buzzing with the knowledge of what she can do with her powers. If Claire’s happy to be her test subject, she’ll spend all day with the girl. “Just let me grab a coffee.”

“Ooh, me too. Wait!” She wiggles her fingers toward Patience. “Do you Know how I like my coffee?”

“Half-and-half. And enough sugar to kill you,” Patience reels off. “But that’s not because I’m psychic. I’ve just seen you fix yourself coffee before.”

“Y’know, I think the line between ‘psychic’ and ‘observant’ is thinner than you might think.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patience says, and then pretends to stumble backward toward the table, overacting the part. “Oh, oh, I’m having a vision… I see you … making coffee for us…”

Claire rolls her eyes, but she dutifully sets her keys down and busies herself with getting the travel mugs out. “That’s not gonna work for everything, you know.”

“Aaah I see you bringing Jody’s suit to the dry cleaners next week. I also see you driving me to the science museum.”

“Hilarious.”

Patience smiles at her. It’s nice to have someone else get excited about her powers. It’s nice to be allowed to be excited about this, to learn a new skill and have it mean something good to someone besides herself. She doesn’t feel like a freak or a failure. She just feels… like a psychic.

She feels like her grandma would be proud.

[the-lincyclopedia]

* adapted from @librajiminn on twitter

A fun game to celebrate 2020 ending! The rules are simple: recommend your favorite OMGCP fics so everyone can enjoy them, while trying to fill in enough slots to get a bingo!

This is going to get long, so I’ll put it under a cut. Also, I’m too orderly to try to shoehorn my favorite fics into these particular prompts, so I’m just going to go right to left, top to bottom, taking the prompts literally, until it’s bedtime. 

1. first fic you bookmarked: “Here Comes the Sun” by @doggernaut, 19k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

For the past month, the man with the baby and the sad blue eyes has been stopping in for a cup of coffee an hour before closing. He always sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner and drinks his coffee while his baby sleeps next to him in the stroller. Sometimes he pulls a book out from the diaper bag he carries with him; other times he just stares straight ahead as if in a daze. He never asks for a refill, always respectfully gathers his things and leaves ten minutes before the shop officially closes. Eric desperately wants to ask him what his story is. 

My notes: I read Check Please over the course of two days in June of 2019. On the second day, right after catching up, I looked at @peppermintfeminist‘s AO3 bookmarks and found a fic by @doggernaut. Then I read just about everything @doggernaut had ever posted. It was glorious. This fic in particular is so cute. 

2. most recent fic you bookmarked: “Flight Check” by @edgarallanrose, 15k, E, no warnings (though there is a creepy/handsy guy at a club to watch out for), primarily Zimbits with most of the other popular pairings in the background

Flight attendant Eric “Bitty” Bittle has been working his way up at Samwell Airlines for the past four years, and his new promotion has provided him the opportunity to work with a brand-new crew. Unfortunately for Bitty, that crew includes an incredibly handsome but equally grumpy pilot, Captain Jack Zimmermann, who seems to want nothing to do with Bitty. Even worse, Jack refuses to eat any of Bitty's baked goods. Will Bitty be able to win the captain over? Or is there another reason Jack has been avoiding Bitty?

My notes: There are a lot of great things about this fic--Jack’s character arc, Lardo’s dialogue, that scene in Seattle--but the reason I bookmarked it is the scene where Bitty’s basically slut-shaming himself and Jack gently but firmly tells Bitty not to do that and that it was the creep’s fault. 

3. a fic that made you cry actual tears: “a little bit more” by @ivecarvedawoodenheart, 14k, T, no warnings, Holsom

“I just wanted,” he says, “a perfect day. With you. Because it’s our last day together and our last day being here as undergrads and we’re kissing the ice tonight, and the weather’s supposed to be beautiful, and you’re moving tomorrow and Holtzy I just — I don’t want to be missing you already.” Holster wipes his eyes before he even realizes he’s crying. Behind him, Ransom sighs. “One more day where everything’s the same,” he says, feeling around blindly for Rans’ fingers. He feels Rans nod as he laces their fingers together. “Yeah. Yeah, Rans. I’d like that a lot.” __________________________

Holsom after graduation and throughout the subsequent six months after Holster signs to an expansion team in Oregon, and realizes his feelings for Ransom too late. Holster's POV :) kinda angsty, but there's a happy ending :)

Inspired by shitty-check-please-aus: "Holster moves to Oregon while Ransom stays on the east coast. The time difference makes it difficult to talk and one day they wake up and realize they aren’t best bros anymore."

My notes: I almost never cry at fics. I searched “tears” in my fandom email account and only a handful of my fic comments came up, but Syd is a literal master of Holsom angst, always. 

4. longest fic you’ve read: “Like Real People Do” by @xiaq, 153k, M, No Warnings, Kent Parson x OC

Parson gestures with his spoon toward Hawke. “So am I allowed to ask about the service dog or is that not PC?”

“My medical history is more of a 3rd date conversation," Eli says.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because. No one sticks around afterward and I like to live in glorious denial for a short period beforehand.”

It comes out more self-deprecating than he intended.

Parson looks…thoughtful. “Well, does this count as one or two?

“Pardon?”

“This. Ice cream. I mean, technically it’s a second location, but still the same night. So is this one date or two?”

“One,” Eli says firmly. “If it’s happening within the same three-hour period.”

“You’re the expert,” Parson says, which, he’s really, really, not, but ok.

“So still two dates to go then?” Parson continues.

“I—what?”

“We’ve got a roadie coming up but then we’re home for almost two weeks. When does your semester start?”

“You want to do this again?” Eli asks.

Parson stops idly twirling his spoon.

“You don’t?”

He does, Eli realizes. He really does. Because apparently he actually likes Kent fucking Parson.

My notes: Okay, this fic has my whole entire heart. I’ve read it multiple times in its entirety, and it’s almost twice as long as the full-length novel I’m querying. Eli is one of my favorite OCs I’ve ever seen in a fic (probably tied with Damian Navarro and Ari Paxton, both brainchildren of @fozmeadows). Anyway, this is probably going to be the next thing @themeaningoflifeischeese and I read out loud to each other. 

5. a fic you almost didn’t read: “when all else fails (i’ll still be right here)” by @whoacanada, 6k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (and I don’t remember if I think there’s stuff to warn for, sorry), Zimbits

The National Hockey League is resurrecting the Quebec City Nordiques, and the expansion draft hits the Falconers much harder than expected.

My notes: Given that this was for @omgcpheartbreakfest, I was worried this would be all angst--all hurt and no comfort. Which made me sad, because I love @whoacanada‘s writing but I wasn’t up for reading unresolved angst. But @doggernaut reblogged the fic, so I asked if the ending was sad, and it’s NOT! There is quite a bit of angst but the ending isn’t sad. 

6. a fic that convinced you on a ship you didn’t ship before: “it drops with the gravity of rain” by @geniusorinsanity, 16k, T, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (attempted sexual assault by an OC), Nurseydex

It happens like this:

“I don’t--this is a bad idea,” Dex says, his lips still tingling, his hands shaking on Nursey’s hips where he’s shoved him away. “This is a really bad idea, Nurse. I can’t--We can’t do this.”

And there’s hurt in Nursey’s eyes and his bottom lip is swollen from Dex’s teeth, but he says, “Okay.” And then, “It’s chill, Dex. Just friends, then.”

It happens like this:

“Actually,” Nursey says, talking more to his granola than to them, “I kind of have a date.”

It happens like this:

When Nursey calls, Dex almost doesn’t pick up the phone.

My notes: So I was really confused and a little disturbed when I first found out people shipped Nursey and Dex. Like, Dex just wasn’t someone I trusted. But then I was moving out of the house I’d been living in, and I needed stuff to listen to as I packed and cleaned, and @khashanakalashtar‘s podfics came in clutch. I gave this one a try even though I didn’t like Dex, and @geniusorinsanity blew. My. Mind.

7. a fic from an unusual POV: “Excuse Me While I Kiss This Guy” by @porcupine-girl, 8k, G, no warnings, Zimbits

Jesse Snowden knows all the best restaurants and gourmet food shops in Providence, so when Jack Zimmermann starts bringing in incredible baked goods, he's eager to find out where the new bakery is. When he meets the man behind the pies, he decides that there's no way Jack could really appreciate this guy's talent the way he does, even if they are friends. He starts hiring Jack's chef on the side, in the hopes that maybe once Bitty's done with college he'll come work for Jesse.

Good thing there is absolutely no way whatsoever that Jesse could possibly be misinterpreting this situation.

My notes: Oh my gosh this is so funny. The secondhand embarrassment factor is huge, but like, the hilarity. 

8. a comfort fic: “Don’t Need to Compromise” by @khashanakalashtar, 11k, E, no warnings, PB&J

“Hey,” said Kent, unknowingly setting off a chain of events that would change his entire life, “you said that like you know from experience. Have you done this before?”

Jack and Bitty have not done polyamory before, but they do know Ransom and Holster’s polycule, which contains March.

And March?

March is trans.

My notes: I’m in love with @khashanakalashtar‘s entire Directionverse series (and honestly a lot of their other writing), but “Don’t Need to Compromise,” which is the second fic in the series, just makes my heart swell especially much. The gender feels are so good, and all the characters are so good to each other, and when I listen to this on walks I have to actively try not to arm-flap. 

9. a fic you wish could be a movie: “Ice Crew Please!” by @petals42, 61k, T, no warnings, Zimbits

Jack Zimmermann was drafted first by the Providence Falconers when he was eighteen years old. He is good at hockey. Very good. His team won the Cup his second year and now, in his third year, they are looking good. Jack should be on top of the world. And some days, he manages to convince himself he is.

He’s not, of course.

Enter the Ice Crew.

AKA: The Ice Crew AU

My notes: This fic has its tender moments, but what I love most about it is the sheer goofiness. Ransom and Holster and Shitty are HILARIOUS in this one. I’d love to see their shenanigans in movie form. 

10. a WIP you read as it was updated: “Something Borrowed” by @fozmeadows, 48k, M, no warnings, Kent x OC

All things considered, Ari did his best to prepare himself for the advent of Kent Parson, Potentially Difficult Housemate and New Star Liney. The problem was that his best was an idiot.

My notes: So technically I didn’t start reading this until the first 19 chapters were posted. But there was still plenty of anticipation for the final few chapters. And like, @fozmeadows (as mentioned above) makes EXCELLENT OCs. And I love how their fics consistently convey that having bad things happen to you does not mark the end of your story. 

Okay, it’s bedtime, so have 10 excellent fics. I got bingo twice, because I went straight across on the top two rows.

[happyhollow-mellowmarsh]

A Day in the Life of Gumi

“Zzzz……”

The camera continued to film the sleeping bunny for a while longer, before a small banana was brought into the frame, closer to the camera. The stem was cracked, and immediately the rabbit woke up with a start, looking around for the source of the banana… Before letting out a yawn.

“Awawawa…” 

Yawn finished, the rabbit hopped over, and began to munch on the banana. A smattering of Japanese kana floated across the screen, with the corresponding English translations captioned.

“Ohayou, everybunny! It’s me, Bubblegum, everyone’s favourite bun-bun!” The subtitles spelled out even if the rabbit herself didn’t actually vocalize anything. “Sorry for waking up late, peko! I was celebrating my third birthday yesterday… There was so much soda and I tired myself out partying!”

As she continued to munch, the camera was set down on a table. Their owner stepped into the frame of view still holding the banana, revealing a young Japanese woman in a white dress and a black hair bow: those of you who had knowledge of the idol scene (or had just read the channel’s about page) recognized her as the underground idol known as TASOGARE, or Dusky to others.

“Mama’s here! I mean, she’s always behind the camera, but she’s here now! And I love her so much!” Her free hand gently ruffled the back of the bunny’s ears. “Awawa! She always pets me just right!” 

A soft melody started playing over the two of them, before the overlaid intro card spelled out just what you were in for:

The next scene faded into a lounge room, where Bubblegum was being chased by what looked to be a tiny italian greyhound, barking as he went. Watching them frolic from atop a couch was an interesting animal, one that looked like a large cat the size of a boxer dog, but had fluffy wool much like a sheep possessed. She regarded the two on the ground impassively, as if waiting for the perfect time to strike, or simply because there was nothing better to do.

“Today, I want to introduce everyone to my familiar friends! The iggy chasing me is Bucephalus, though most of us usually call him Buce as a nickname. Say something cool, Buce-kun!”

“Yipyipyipyipyiphellohellohello!!” The tiny dog finally caught up, and booped his snout onto the fluff of Bubblegum’s tail. “Tag!”

This prompted the bunny to turn tail and chase after him back, and would not have been able to catch up to his superior speed if not for the sudden appearance of the sheep-cat, who bounded off her couch and down to block one of the greyhound’s escape routes.

“And this is my cousin, Baaby! She’s a really strong and magical sheep-cat hybrid! Please don’t call her a shat, she doesn’t like that.”

He dodged the large feline with a whine. “No fair! Why are you on her side?” 

"Because you slept on me... again. And you drool in your sleep." Baaby mewled lazily, licking one of her paws.

The chase continued for a few seconds more, before Buce bounded straight into the camera and knocked it into a black screen, setting up the next scene transition.

An underground lake framed the scene this time, as Bubblegum hopped along the water’s edge. Finding the first of her two friends, she thumped a foot in a high-five against the tailfin of the winged magical fish that leapt out of the water.

“This is Astrid! She’s a fairy koi, and she likes to swim down here. Mama likes to help her friend feed Astrid whenever she has the time to.”

The camerawoman, presumably Dusky, holds out a handful of apple blossoms towards the water. The fairy koi’s eyes light up from a distance, and she jumps out of the lake in a miniature water bubble controlled by her own magic, before swimming in the air over to munch.

“OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM!!”

Finishing up all of the flowers, the fish let out a burp and smiled. “Thank you! Much appreciated! Astrid is very happy and full.” She blew some water bubbles into the air above Bubblegum before swimming back to the lake, popping her own water bubble as she did.

“See you around, Astri-tan!” Bubblegum waved, before continuing to hop along the perimeter.

Eventually, she came across a majestic horse-like creature resting on the side bank of the lake, with mottled green skin and a mane that looked more like seaweed than hair. A bright red eye cracked open at the sudden presence, as the sea-horse lifted her head to regard the rabbit.

“This is Undaria! She’s a kelpie, and she’s also my sister! Well, technically, half-sister, her dad and my mama are dating and all, but she’s my sister all the same! Say hi, Unda-chan!”

The kelpie neighed softly, prompting Bubblegum to hop closer. “What is it now, Bubbles?”

The bun hopped onto her half-sister’s back, before beginning to run her face through the kelp. “I’m helping to groom you! Because I can!” As she continued to trim through the kelpie’s mane, Bubblegum chirruped softly, “I love my sis so much! She’s the tsun-tsun to my dere-dere!”

“What does that even mean?” Undaria whinnied haughtily. It did not stop her from allowing the grooming to happen, or from gently setting the rabbit back down onto shore once she was done.

“See you later, nee-chan!” Bubblegum thumped happily, before skittering away to a new setting.

Now she was in the middle of a pumpkin patch, nibbling on some pumpkin leaves. “Hello again! My next friends are flying at the moment, so I’ll introduce you to them when they come down!”

A few seconds later, and they did. A white pigeon with streaks of purple and red in his wings glided down to land on a pumpkin, followed shortly after by a pale yellow budgie with a dash of small white spots on his head. They raised a wing in greeting. 

“I’m Berry!” The pigeon coos, before he scratched his head. “Still don’t know what kind of berry I’m supposed to be, but I guess it depends on the day.” He eyes the camera, and the person behind it extends a baked cracker, which he comes over to eat.

“And I’m Alkonost! I- ooh, cracker.” Distracted, the budgie hopped over to munch on the cracker. “Where was I? Oh yeah, I’m visiting today! Mom works somewhere else usually, but her girlfriend was in the area so I tagged along.”

While the birds were busy, Bubblegum moved further down the pumpkin patch; once they were done consuming the cracker, they led the camera over to their next pair of familiars.

Unsurprisingly, the massive clydesdale horse stood out first. Towering over Bubblegum and the two birds by a magnitude of at least ten, he had a dark brown mane with a matching brown tail, and a chocolate brown body with white patches around his face and legs. A loose red bandana was tied around his neck, and part of his mane had been braided to rest behind one of his ears.

At his feet was a strange snake-like creature, but this one was distinctly less long and slithery, and more compact and chubby. A glow stick necklace circled around this one’s neck, and his forked tongue stole chunks of pumpkin flesh as he vibed, brown and green stripes vibrating.

“This is Johnny Kane!” Bubblegum introduced, gently thumping her paw against the stallion’s leg. “I’ve been trying to get him interested in Unda-chan for a while now, but since he only comes to visit every now and then, there’s never really been much time to schedule a date.”

Judging by the long face on the horse, both metaphorically and literally, she was the only one in support of the idea. “Charmed.”

“And this is King!” Despite the natural tendency for rabbits to fear snakes, she approached him with no fear whatsoever. “He’s a tsuchinoko! Yes, tsuchinoko real. Do you wanna say anything?”

“Flpflpflpflpflp…” Retracting his tongue, King gave a toothy half-smile. “I mean… party rock is in the house tonight? I dunno, but I’m always down to have some fun.”

While rabbits weren’t usually capable of smiling, Bubblegum could trill happy vibes very well. “Aren’t we all? Thank you guys for showing up, I’m going to go find the others now. Stay sweet!”

Hopping away, she sped past the camera to the final pit stop in her adventure quest, a snazzy recreation room that contained a karaoke machine and a countertop bar. As she hopped inside, something ran outside, a black blur of an animal with the briefest flash of yellow eyes.

“That was Teto! It’s alright if we didn’t get to see her, she’s not very sociable.” Bubblegum sniffed. “Unlike the other black cat in the mansion… my mom’s boss, Trouble!”

She pauses in her tracks, scrunching up her face. “At least I know I’ve seen her as a black cat at some point a while ago… Maybe she likes transformation magic? Or maybe that’s just her fursona.”

Hopping onto a bar stool, the rabbit came face to face with a rooster on another stool. This was no ordinary rooster however, as instead of brown or white feathers, every inch of the sun bird’s body was covered in multicoloured flechettes. Both his comb and tail feathers had little balls of what looked to be concentrated fire, and he let out a cocky crow at the sight of the camera.

“This is Bata! He’s a sarima… sarima…” The subtitles were clearly poking fun at Bata’s species, even if both rabbit and mistress probably knew what he was. “Sun chicken! He’s a baby.”

“I am not!” He clucked back. “I am a very proud rooster who eats lots of big man food and can still find the time to give my Dad feather hugs whenever he wants them!”

Bubblegum blinked. “That’s… oddly specific.”

“Shush, don’t judge me, you get hugs from your momma all the time too.” He stuck out his tongue.

“Fair enough!” Bubblegum conceded with a trill. “And you will always be a baby because that’s what I remember you as when you were still a chick. A baby!”

Bata let out a squawk, preening his feathers. “Lies! Slander! I’m bigger than you, Bubble-brain!”

The two continued their friendly banter as Dusky stepped into view and pressed the service bell on the bar’s top. A little scratching noise was heard, before a mouse scampered up onto the bar: this mouse looked to be a little old, with a small witch’s hat that had probably seen better days, but he nonetheless squeaked cheerily to ask for orders.

“A tall glass of apple cider, please. And some water for them.” Dusky requested, giving the mouse a gentle pat on the head. The mouse moved to go make those drinks, and seconds later the order was set out in front of all three of the bar’s current occupants.

“And that’s Jeffrey! He was, um… he belonged to mom’s teacher before she passed away, but he’s still working here out of loyalty to my mom’s bosses. Really great mouse, who serves great drinks!” Bubblegum happily starts lapping at the water.

Once they were done, the idol scooped up her rabbit, waved goodbye to the other two familiars and walked out of the door. The scene cut back to the inside of their room, where Bubblegum is set down gently, and the bun hops around the room to exercise, just a little.

“As you can see, there’s a whole bunch of friends here with me in the mansion, and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and some of them are plenty magical, too!” Rubbing the back of her ears with a paw, Bubblegum yawned. “Familiar or not though… we’re still like everyday animals and we all have our own needs. Food, sleep, and of course, love!”

Dusky shows up one last time, simply to press a kiss onto Bubblegum’s eager forehead. “And I’ll always give you as much love as I can.”

“Yay! That’s all for tonight! I’ve been Bubblegum, and I wish you all a gumi-goodnight. Goodbye!” While the outro music played, Bubblegum hopped around in a circle before she binkied herself into her bed, waving at the camera one last time before the ending card signalled the vlog’s end.

[digimonnetwork-project]

Episode VI

Previous episode

Welcome to the Network

If Aki kept opening up his bag to check on Lutrimon he was going to be caught for sure.  The partners had been inseparable since Aki had returned and proudly showed off his bright blue D-Gauntlet, and because Lutrimon was small enough to fit in his swimming bag, that meant they really were inseparable. Unless of course the teacher saw.

“Those two are going to make me sick.” Masato practically hissed, looking as though he were ready to throw his pencil carrier at Aki.

Isamu couldn’t blame him for his reaction, even though Wemicmon was a little too rowdy and loud to hide, he was starting to get a little jealous that Aki’s partner could fit in his bag. Silently Isamu sort of hoped the teacher would walk by and start asking questions.

“Don’t worry, I think Aki just didn’t want to leave her with the other Digimon because he’s excited. He probably won’t be taking her with him everywhere.” He said.

“Does he have to be feeding her under his desk though?” Ju added from Isamu’s other side, not quite able to hide her jealousy either, she’d never fit one of her partners in her bag, let alone both of them.

“Guys chill.” Isamu whispered.

“I don’t want to chill.” Masato growled, gripping his pen, either trying to calculate the trajectory to hit Aki in the head with it, or break it in half. “I want to meet my Digimon partner!”

“Be quiet,” Ju whispered over Isamu, “Digimon are supposed to be a secret!”

“You both are being too loud.” Isamu tried to tell them, but it was too late, the teacher looked their way.

“That’s it, you three have not been able to keep quiet all day.”  Ms. Mazawa scolded pointing at them and gesturing around the room, “Namura go sit over by Anami, and Ling, swap places with Nakano,”

The students in question all did as instructed, and the lesson continued, though Isamu, Masato and Ju all continued to send the occasional glare Aki’s way. Eventually Isamu resigned himself to his note taking and wondered once again if Ms. Mazawa was secretly a Hannya or some other demon of folklore.

Beside him, Kaiyo tapped her pen against his hand and pushed her paper closer to him. For a moment, Isamu was confused, but then he saw the question written on it. ‘What are Digimon?’

Realizing the trio had been speaking too loud, and aware that the Digimon were supposed to be a secret as Ju had said earlier, Isamu had no idea how to respond. After a moment he scribbled a vague reply, ‘It’s an internet thing’.

Kaiyo wrote back, ‘You mean like an MORPG?’

‘Yeah, kinda’ Isamu replied, technically it wasn’t a lie, the Network was accessible from the internet and the site looked kind of like a role play community if you didn’t have an account.

To his relief, Kaiyo didn’t press the matter, and the rest of the class went on in peace. Isamu forgot about the conversation as he headed to lunch to sit with his friends. They chose to eat in the courtyard, where the rest of the Digimon were waiting to see their partners for even this brief meeting. Most of the other students were inside, but just in case the Digimon stayed in the bush.

“My god, you were feeding her all morning, how in the world can she still be hungry?” Masato griped as Aki slipped more food to Lutrimon.

Ju gave a shrug, “Digimon eat a lot, it’s how they keep their power up, if they get too hungry they might not have the energy to fight, or could end up degenerating to a lower level.”

With this information, Aki looked ready to give Lutrimon all of his lunch, though the little otter seemed content with just his dessert. Isamu wasn’t as lucky as Wemicmon had already consumed half his lunch and eyed his box as if to sneak more while he wasn’t looking. Ju always seemed to pack enough food to share with her Digimon without them feeling the need to beg for more.

“There’s some good news, though.” Isamu said, “I got an e-mail this morning, from the Admins. It’s safe to go back to the Network. There’s still some damage and there’s a warning to keep an eye out for Bugs, but we could probably go right after school to find you a partner.”

Masato practically jumped off of the bench, probably seconds away from asking if they could just go now since they were on lunch, when the door opened and another student stepped out into the courtyard.

“Oh!” Kaiyo gasped, seeing the gathering. The Digimon had ducked out of sight but she clearly must have seen something. “Are the rabbits out on the campus already?” She asked, and Isamu gave a mental sigh of relief. It was awkward enough to have told her that Digimon was an internet thing, but to have to explain that he’d been lying would be very awkward.

“Yeah, rabbits.” Ju replied, a nervous bead of sweat slid down by her ear “They’re probably already on the other side of the courtyard by now, if you want to go take a look at them. That’s how they move around, running through the bushes, I mean.” She added.

Kaiyo smiled, a very sweet smile that made Isamu feel pretty bad about lying to such a kind girl, “No, that’s alright, I was just passing through. I’m meeting a friend for lunch!” She explained and moved on, waving to them as she walked by “See you guys when we get back to class.”

They waited until Kaiyo was out of earshot before letting out a collective sigh of relief and continued their discussion, “I know what you’re thinking, Masato, and no.” Ju said, “We wouldn’t have time to go now,  you might be able to talk to a few Digimon, but no way you could actually find a partner in the Network in the time we have. It’ll be better to just wait until after school and meet at my place.”

Masato looked disappointed but Isamu was distracted from the rest of the conversation when he saw a figure running across the roof of the school. It took him a moment to recognize Puckmon; the Digimon he and Ju had met at the cabin. He remembered that they had discussed the idea of convincing Puckmon to be Masato’s partner and almost said something, but the rookie level troublemaker vanished again in moments.

Isamu shook his head, besides, if the Network was open again surely they’d find someone a little more suitable for Masato there. He turned his attention to helping Ju describe what the Network was like and the prizes that were available to win in the games.

-

Out in the field, Kaiyo waited with her lunch box for her friend. The pair had only met a few days ago, but sharing meals with the little creature called Puckmon had become one of the highlights of Kaiyo’s day.  She could see him on the roof of the school and sat down on her uniform jacket as if it were a picnic blanket.

She was concerned about what Isamu had said earlier, about Digimon. Some kind of online game with a name so similar to her friend? It couldn’t be a coincidence, maybe Puckmon would have more answers for her. He jumped down from the roof and sprinted toward her with his hands out stretched.

“Please?” He said without being prompted.

Kaiyo smiled proudly at him, “Very good! I brought you something extra special today.” She said, patting the ground next to her, and opened up her lunch box to reveal home baked cupcakes with hand made icing, “I found this recipe for ‘Piñata’ cupcakes on an American website and Nana helped me with the conversions. Try one!”

“With pleasure!” Puckmon replied, tossing a whole cupcake in his mouth and chewing happily as he savored the fluffy treat seemingly without even noticing what exactly made it a Piñata cupcake. “It’s delicious!” He exclaimed happily.

Kaiyo laughed and let him have another “Take it one bite at a time, now. Do you notice anything?”

Puckmon did as he was told and took a smaller bite, his eyes widened to notice that there were little candies baked into the center. “Can I have another!?” He asked.

Kaiyo shook her head to his obvious disappointment, but Kaiyo insisted that they eat something healthy before they had any more dessert. Puckmon was happy to agree to those terms.

The small creature slowed down after eating two cupcakes, a sandwich and half an apple, but he kept looking toward the lunchbox to see if she had anything else tasty stashed away. Kaiyo withheld more until he finished his apple, waiting to see if he even wanted another cupcake after all that.

“Say, Puckmon? I have a question.” She said  after a moment and waited for him to grunt ‘what question?’ before she asked, “Are you a Digimon?”

He replied bluntly, “Of course I am. And you’re a human, what of it?”

Kaiyo blinked, “I just...I heard some kids in my class talking about you- them- Digimon. And I don’t understand, what exactly is a Digimon?”

“We’re exactly what we sound like,” Puckmon answered, “Digital Monsters.”

“Digital monsters, Digimon...Oh! Digi-mon, I get it.” Kaiyo beamed, “So you come from the internet then? Like out of a computer?”

“No, I come from the Digital World, the internet is a much creepier place, trust me.” Puckmon made a big show of shuttering, but laid back, “Still, the Digital World ain’t what it used to be, that’s why so many of Digimon are coming over here lately and looking for part-.” he cut himself off, “Never mind.”

“Wait, what’s going on in your world? You’re looking for what? Part time jobs?” The last part was intended as a joke, but Puckmon’s lips didn’t even twitch and her friend looked lost in thought..

He stood up suddenly, seemingly no longer interested in talking to her, or even eating, “I don’t need a Tamer. I’m good enough on my own!” He declared, more to himself than Kaiyo, though he turned to her with a nod, “Thanks for lunch.” He said and took off back toward the rooftop.

“Puckmon, wait!” Kaiyo shouted after him, but he didn’t slow down or look back.

With a sigh she closed her lunchbox and collected her jacket. Well, one question was answered, but now she had even more. She supposed if what Puckmon said was true about the Digimon coming from a Digital World then maybe Isamu was telling the truth about  them being an internet thing, she’d have to look them up tonight and see if she could get more answers.

If not, she could always ask Isamu again.

-

The lunch bell rang and the students all began filing back into class. The remaining subjects were boring and with the three talkative students separated there were no distractions either. It seemed like the day dragged on forever, but when the bell finally rang, Masato was the first one out of his seat.

Boy, the kid could really move when he wanted to. Masato rushed to the locker room to put on his casual clothes, if he was going to meet his partner today he wasn’t going to do it in this dumb uniform! Isamu and Aki followed behind him as well as a few other boys from their class, all eager to get out of their uniforms and into real clothes.

“So when we get to the Network, you’ll take me to the hub to get my entry prize and Ju will take Masato to see if they can find a partner.” Aki said aloud, recounting the discussion they’d had at lunch, “That’s the plan right?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me!” Lutrimon piped from the bag, “As long as I get to stretch my legs out, I feel like I’ve been stuck in here for days!”

Aki smiled, “I’ll let you out when we get to Ju’s, alright?”

Masato was more interested in talking to Ju about the Digimon that were looking for partners in the Network, “Anybody cool, like Nemaemon?”

“All Digimon are cool.” Ju corrected, “But if you mean big champion level ones, I’ve seen a few, but the shelter they gather at is always getting in new guests as some don’t find what they're looking for in a partner and leave, or meet just the right person. I can’t tell you who might be there when we talk to them.”

“I just want a partner that can kick big time butt!” Masato pumped the air, Isamu laughed while Ju rolled her eyes, Aki smiled at his friend’s enthusiasm but was a little busy with Lutrimon.

Ju let them in and showed them into her room where she booted up her computer and signed into the Network while Isamu opened the window to let the other Digimon in. The computer screen began to glow and Isamu grinned, “Here we go.”

The strange sensation of being sucked through the computer screen still made Isamu feel a little nauseated, but from the groans behind him, Isamu could tell that Aki and Masato had fared much worse. Good, that meant Masato could make it to the Network without a D-Gauntlet.

“Is it going to be like that every time?”  Aki pushed up his glasses, as Isamu pulled down his goggles to read about the Digimon in the plaza.

The city did not look like it had been under attack recently, aside from an occasional damage reading on his goggles, and a glitch or two on the street it looked brand new. Isamu didn’t know much about the Admins that had been repairing the Network for the last week, but they definitely knew what they were doing.

A large monitor that usually played live footage from the Coliseum had what seemed to be a news report about the attack. A grainy recording of a Digimon, the image wasn’t clear enough for his goggles to identify it, but Isamu didn’t need his analyzer to know that the Demon-like Digimon was clearly far more powerful than any he’d encountered yet. An ultimate level Digimon, maybe even a Mega.

As Masato and Aki continued to moan and clutch their sides. Ju waved at them, the only one of the group who didn’t look even a tiny bit dizzy. “You get used to it, I promise.” She said and started walking, “Come on, Masato, the Digimon who come to the Network looking for partners stay in a shelter a few blocks this way. Isamu, you remember where the hub is, right?”

The group split up, Ju led Masato to the shelter while Cannismon and Leptomon dashed ahead to keep the way clear if any Bugs showed up. She noticed with some dismay that while the Network seemed busy, there were not nearly as big of crowds wandering out. Could it be that word just hadn’t spread quite yet that the Network was open again?

“Here we are,” She announced, and looked in the door, once again a little disappointed to see that there weren’t that many Digimon in the shelter, and some of them looked pretty ragged and tired, like they desperately needed a Digicure.

Masato stepped inside and gasped in awe, “So who are these guys?” Clearly he still didn’t know Digimon well enough to see how sorry the group looked.

Still, each of them raised their heads at the sound of a human voice and a few of them came bounding over to meet their potential partner, just as eager as Masato himself was. “My name is Elecmon, I’m a mammal Digimon with electric abilities, as my name implies!”

“I’m a Bakemon, a ghost Digimon, and if anyone ever picks on you I’ll haunt them senseless with my evil charm!” Ju touched Masato’s shoulder to warn him that Bakemon was a Champion level virus Digimon and would probably be a bit much for him, but judging by Masato’s expression he didn’t need the warning.

Just as well, more Digimon were starting to swarm.“No pick me! I’m Penguinmon!”

“Tsukaimon!”

“Kamemon!”

Masato was quickly surrounded and Ju had to help him herd them all to tables and convince them to sit down and talk with him one at a time to see if something sparked between them. Ju was grateful Aki already had his partner, she wasn’t sure that the other boy could handle the crowding Digimon without getting overwhelmed, even Masato was starting to look like he was going to need a break before he found a partner.

-

Across the world, Liv had fallen asleep in her clothes with her phone in her hand. She was dreaming of playing with Scrofamon in the woods with her family when the phone vibrated a text message for her. Groggily she opened her eyes to see that it was still pitch black, whoever was texting her better have a good reason-

It was from Andromon, informing her that the Network was open again and asking if she was going to join the auction raid.  Liv made a mental countdown in her head, yes, this was the date that auction was supposed to be on. Some deep instinct made her want to agree immediately, but she stopped herself. Still, Andromon was her friend and she didn’t want to keep disappointing him.

It’s still super early here, I need to wake up first, but I’ll think about it. If I decide to, I’ll meet you in the usual place, but if not go without me. Liv texted and waited several minutes for an answer. Andromon didn’t reply.

Awake now, and with the Network open again, Liv couldn’t just go back to sleep and shook her partner awake, “Hey, you want to stretch your legs a bit?” She asked.

Scrofamon snorted, “No.” he replied, rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

Liv gave a small chuckle, picked him up and headed for her computer, “Yeah you do, you lazy bum.”

Scrofamon blinked sleepily in her arms for a moment but seemed to wake up instantly when he realized that she was going to her computer and what the only possible meaning for that was. “The Network is back up!?” He asked excitedly, getting a nod in return, “Are we going to go to the Auction, today?...The Coliseum is fine too.”

Liv noted the excitement in Scrofamon’s voice at the idea of going to the Auction, and the more bored tone when mentioning the Coliseum. She frowned and remembered what she’d texted to Andromon, “We’ll see.” Liv said and opened the gate.

-

A few blocks from where Liv entered the Network, Ju was leaving the shelter after her partners. She had been standing to the side and watching a few interviews, but soon enough Cannismon and Leptomon grew bored and left out the open door,  forcing Ju to follow her partners as they excitedly scrambled around.

A few figures turned the corner and Ju understood what had gotten them so excited, “Wemicmon! Lutrimon! Over here!” Leptomon barked loudly, while Cannismon waved her tail at their approach.

Ju chuckled and waved her hand to greet Aki and Isamu. The Digimon acted like they hadn’t seen each other in years, “How’d it go?” She asked.

“I got a battle item.” Aki said, lifting his D-Gauntlet proudly, “It says it’s the Blue Sword and Shield combo, a permanent battle item that can only be used by Ultimate level Digimon. ”

Isamu nodded, “We don’t know what that means.” He said sheepishly.

Ju smiled at him, “That means that it won’t disappear when you use it like Isamu’s basic shield item did when he used it against Apemon. You get to keep it forever. But it also means you can’t use it unless Lutrimon Digivolves to her next form.”

“Next form?”

“Yeah,” Ju explained, “Digimon have the same basic levels, Baby, In-Training, Rookie, Champion, Ultimate, and Mega, there are a few others that can only be achieved through certain means, like Armor level, but all Digimon can achieve those six.”

“So after reaching Champion, the Digimon can evolve to Ultimate?” Isamu asked.

Ju nodded “Yes, though it’s not as simple as Digivolving from Rookie to Champion. The D-Gauntlets help achieve Champion but reaching Ultimate can take years of training just on your own.” She said, she saw Aki’s disheartened look and quickly added “I don’t personally know anyone who’s achieved it, but rumor has it you the admins programmed a really rare item that you can win and achieve Ultimate by activating it like the D-Gauntlets”

The boys took a moment to let that sink in, Aki opened his mouth, Ju expected him to ask how Masato was doing looking for a partner, but his gaze was behind her. “What’s going on over there?”

A small crowd had gathered, and curiosity drove the small group forward to where a Digimon the same size as Wemicmon was standing, speaking to the crowd. The Digimon was light brown with purple markings. He  had a horse-like appearance, but with a black nose like a dog and stood on two legs. The hooves on his arms were split like fingers, probably to help him grip the bo staff that was strapped to his back.

“Listen, I know you’ve been told the Digital World is incredibly dangerous, and it is, don’t get me wrong.” He was saying, “But you’re Tamers for crying out loud! If you can’t help them, who will?”

Ju cast a look to Isamu, who had his goggles down to read information on the new Digimon, “His name is Equimon, he’s a rookie level Digimon, Vaccine type, says here his special attacks are all based on mental energy.”

“I wonder what he’s talking about?” Aki asked.

“What who’s talking about?” They all jumped a little when Masato appeared behind them. He looked up at the Digimon that was speaking.

“Come on, you’re scared I understand, but you here who have partner Digimon have the power to make them stronger so they can protect you.” Equimon said, “Imagine what it must be like for those poor children. Children younger than you, taken from an unsuspecting day care while the attending adult was distracted. Taken and held hostage in the Digital World while their captors prepared for this day, so that they can be sold to the highest bidder, to Digimon who think of humans as little more than slaves to make them Digivolve. Won’t any of you help me go rescue those poor kids?”

There were murmurs in the crowd, dismayed moans and terrified whispers “I just got my partner a few weeks ago, I couldn’t possibly risk losing him. I’m not strong enough.”

“We can’t even get a decent score on the battle simulator, we’d be obliterated.”

“I can’t battle evil Digimon, rescue children and protect my partner at the same time, I don’t have enough experience.”

“We’re just not good enough.”

Equimon put his hooves on his side, “I’ll go by myself if I have to, but don’t any of you want to join me? You don’t have to do much, you just need to distract the guards while I free the kids, the risk should be minimal.”

Ju couldn’t help but notice that the only ones that had returned to the Network so far were a bunch of inexperienced Tamers with Digimon that couldn’t put up much of a fight. Was this just a coincidence, or had the group that orchestrated the attack been counting on that in order to pull off this auction?

As she contemplated this, Masato stepped forward, “I’ll go!” He said.

The crowd turned to him, no one recognized him from the games or coliseum and quickly noticed his lack of a D-Gauntlet, “Where’s your partner?” One kid with a Gostumon asked.

Masato stared them down with a determined glint, “I don’t have one. But there are defenseless children out there, and if Equimon is willing to go alone, then so am I. Partner or no partner.”

Ju was about to point out what a terrible idea that was, when Isamu and Wemicmon both took a step forward to back him up, “We’ll go too.” Isamu said, “We might not have a lot of experience, but some fire power is better than no fire power.”

Lutrimon crawled up her Tamer’s shoulder, “Aki, let’s go too.” She said, “I believe in you, and Isamu and Wemicmon. We can do this if we work together.”

Aki nodded, but of the volunteers he seemed the least certain that they could really pull it off, “Y-yeah, let’s do it.”

As the Tamer with the most experience, Ju couldn’t let them go without her, after all, Isamu may have gotten Wemicmon to Digivolve before she got her partners to, he still had a lot to learn about battling. “So will we.” She said, bringing her two partners forward.

Equimon looked ready to pass out with pride as he ran over to them, “Thank you kids so much!” He declared, counting the number of volunteers he had to accompany him, “Four humans and five Digimon should be enough to keep the guards distracted, we’ll have those children out in no time.”

“More like you’ll all be killed in no time.” Everyone turned at the sound of the newcomer.

Everyone except Masato, Aki, Lutrimon and Equimon gave a sharp gasp when Liv Campion, the queen of the Coliseum stepped forward, and likely only didn’t react that way because they didn’t know who she was. She approached them with her partner Scrofamon in tow.

“Do you think these Auctions just have a few bumbling guards that you can just knock out and steal the keys from? The Digimon in charge of these things usually have more than one trick up their sleeve and there’s always at least one Ultimate level overseeing the Auction. If you aren’t eaten alive by the Bakemon, the head honcho will take you out without a sweat, and  even if you somehow manage to make it passed them alive you still need to free the children and high tail it out before backup arrives, because I guarantee somewhere in the chaos, somebody went to get reinforcements. Your Digimon will be killed, and you’ll be sold at the Auction too.”

Liv said this with the certainty of someone who had seen it a hundred times, which she probably had. Though Ju was not the one to comment on it. Wemicmon raised his voice, “Hey, aren’t you famous for going to these Auctions and rescuing kids? How about you stop talking like that and come with us if you know so much? Or are you too scared?”

Something that he said seemed to strike a nerve with Liv, but she quickly hid her jarred emotions behind a mask of anger, Scrofamon bolted forward matching his Tamer’s glare, “Watch what you say, rookie! Talk to Liv like that and you have to go through me! Come on, put up your dukes and fight me!”

His Tamer hushed him, “It’s alright Scrofamon, let the wannabe heroes have their moment of glory.” She said, beckoning her partner back to her side, “They can be a warning to the rest of the newbies about what happens if you go into the Digital World unprepared.” She turned around to leave.

Isamu called out after her, “Hey! The only way to be prepared is to learn from experience. We’re going to save those children, and you could help! What happened to make you turn your back on people in need?”

Liv paused for a moment, but continued to ignore him and left, with Scrofamon only turning back to snort a challenge at Wemicmon, promising that if they somehow managed to make it back alive, the boar-like Digimon was still up for a fight to defend his Tamer’s honor.

There was silence for a moment before Aki, of all people, spoke up “Well, are we just going to let her get away with saying that, or are we going to prove her wrong?”

Lutrimon beamed at him, “That’s the spirit Aki!”

Equimon nodded, “It’ll be dangerous, but I have faith in all of you.” He turned to Masato, seemingly most impressed by the human that volunteered despite not having a partner at all, “I don’t have a Tamer so you and I are in the same boat. Those guys can keep the guards busy while you and I free the children, having another human there might help ease their nerves. I promise I’ll do my best to protect you if worst comes to worst”

Masato gave him a thumbs up, “Sounds like a plan to me. So how do we get to the Digital World?”

Ju pointed, “There’s a gate on the other side of the City, if we have the coordinates to the Auction we can punch in a nearby location and make a more thorough plan for those of us who can fight.”

Equimon nodded, “I’ve got intel from Andromon, I know when and where it is.” He said, pulling out a small orb of data, “And don’t listen to Liv, there will be a whole Raider team there so we won’t be going without our own backup.”

Isamu touched his goggles, “I can use these to find out if the guards have any specific weaknesses.” This seemed to impress Equimon even more, although none of it seemed enough to convince any of the other young Tamers to gather their courage and come with them.

Lutrimon nuzzled Aki’s cheek, “Our first adventure as partners, Aki!” She trilled, “Isn’t this exciting!?”

“Terrifying, is what I’d say,” Aki replied, and added in a hushed whisper “So let’s go before I change my mind.”

Wemicmon grinned, “This is exactly what I wanted to do when I met my Tamer! Let’s go save those kids!”

Next Episode

[thorne93]

Inside the Criminal Mind (Part 5)

Prompt: You’re married to Dr. Spencer Reid of the BAU, and are a distinguished doctor yourself on the team. You’re sent down to Miami, Florida for teaching and as a side request from the FBI, to investigate a string of missing persons. When you think you’ve figured out who the unsub is, your life becomes more complicated than you ever could’ve imagined.

Word Count: 2535

Warnings: (throughout the fic –>) death, blood, gore, killings, language, disturbing mental notions, mentions of rapes/murder/etc (You know, Dexter and Criminal Minds related business)

Notes: Thank you so much to @arrow-guy​​​, @carryonmyswansong​​​, and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​ - without each of you, I couldn’t have finished, written, or properly navigated this story. Each of you helped me fish out details that were incredibly important to me. Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​… Aesthetic by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​

This is a crossover of Criminal Minds x Dexter. First time writing Dexter.

Also, the timeline is after Season 1 of Dexter, but during season 14-ish of Criminal minds into Season 15. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long moment passed before he said anything.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said with a bit of a chuckle. 

You pushed past him as you said, “Cut the shit, Dexter. We both know the truth. Now shut that door, I don’t think your neighbors want to hear any of this conversation we’re about to have.” 

He shut the door immediately and stared at you, his hands in his pockets. 

“What are you talking about? I work--”

“You work for Miami PD. Yes, I know. I know a lot about you. Like how right now you’re weighing whether or not to kill me, or otherwise dispose of me to save your ass, let me save you the trouble though.”

He still made no move.

You let out a soft sigh. “Dexter, relax, I’m not here to arrest you.” 

His eyes darted from side to side in confusion. “You’re not?”

“No, and I’m not wearing a wire. This is probably going to sound crazy and hard to believe, and I can hardly believe I’m about to say it but… I want you to teach me,” you informed, gathering all of your courage.

“Teach you?” He frowned, turning his head slightly, as if he hadn’t heard you.

“I want you to teach me how to be a serial killer, and get away with it.”

A choked laugh escaped him. “Look I don’t know who you think I might be or what led you to this conclusion but--” 

“Dexter… Please,” you begged. “Don’t insult my intelligence. I’m serious. I’ll strip down to my bra and panties to show you I’m not wearing a wire. Check my bag. You’ll find my FBI issued gun on my hip, I won’t hide that.” 

He looked you up and down for a long time before slowly walking forward towards you. 

“If this is true… if you’re serious… why? Why would you want a serial killer to teach you this? You took an oath to uphold the law. Why would you do this?”

“Let’s just say I’m sick of scumbags getting away for stupid shit.”

He shook his head. “No, in order for this to work, we have to be open and honest with each other. Clearly, I greatly underestimated you. I’m used to this city and the detectives being--”

“Blasé?” 

He laughed slightly. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it.”

“Well, I agree about the open and honest clause. So, first of all, am I right? Did you kill those eighteen people?” 

Again, a long gaze. He was gauging whether or not you were telling the truth about not arresting him. 

“Yes.” 

He gave you a tense look, almost as if he were waiting on disgust or rejection. On the contrary though, a wave of pride and relief flooded you. 

“What tipped you off?” he questioned. 

“Your smirk, in our interrogation. You must get away with that a lot here.” 

“I do. I get away with quite a bit. I fake a lot, very well.”

“Yes. You do. However, you over extended.”

“How so?”

“On the victims, you said something about how horrible it must be. None of your colleagues did this. They know it’s horrible, we’re all working this case, we all seek justice. Adding the sympathy bit just felt forced, felt like you were telling me exactly what I wanted to hear.” 

“You’re good.”

“That’s what they tell me.” 

“Well, I think we have a long night ahead of us, care to sit down?” 

“Promise me you aren’t going to try and hurt me,” you said before you moved. “Or even more clear, swear to me you won’t kill me.” 

Dexter peered at you and you looked at him. 

“If I wanted to arrest you, I’d have come with backup. My team would be here. I would’ve called the Florida Bureau of Investigation. There are several ways I could’ve taken this to try and take you down but the fact of the matter is, I didn’t. I don’t want someone like you off the streets.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you do what the rest of us want to do.” 

“Well… Either you’re very stupid for coming without backup or you somehow trust me.”

“I do.”

“Okay, I have no desire to kill you.”

“That’s a relief,” you joked lightly. “We can sit now.” 

The two of you made your way to the couches. You made sure to watch Dexter sit across from you before you, and not after, lest he try to kill you from behind. 

“Alright, what do you want to know?” you asked once you got settled.

“Well let’s start small. Tell me about you, about your life.” 

“I’m married, been married for eight years to another FBI agent. We have no children. We live in DC. We both work for the BAU. I’m an only child. My parents live in Kentucky and we’re rather close.”

“Sounds perfect,” he noted. 

“You don’t have to do that,” you stated.

“Do what?” he asked, unsure what you were referring to. 

“Pretend. Fake emotions. I’m sure it’s hard for you to do it day in and day out, every second of the day. That’s why you allow yourself little smirks like in my interrogation. Being open and honest includes not faking your emotions.” 

Dexter stared at you in awe. 

After a moment, he finally said, “You’re rather comfortable with a cold serial killer.”

“It’s my job to be comfortable around killers. If I wasn’t, I couldn’t do my job.” You shrugged.

“I suppose that’s true.” 

“Besides, you aren’t cold. You don’t kill children. But that reminds me, tell me about the non-criminals.” 

“Sorry?”

“The eighteen, the ones that are criminals and got away are obvious. I want to know why you killed the others. I have a theory they aren’t as squeaky clean as they appeared.” 

Dexter’s gaze dropped to his hands. “One of them killed three little boys, covered it up, and then said he couldn’t help himself. Another one was running a rape site and killing women. Another one was running sex trafficking. Another one was poisoning kids at bake sales.”

He continued to go down the list and you nodded.

“So I was right. You don’t kill without purpose.”

“Killing without purpose is just murder.” 

A smile twitched onto your face. 

“Precisely. In my line of work, I can’t just shoot a bad guy in the face because I discovered he’s the killer we’ve been looking for. No matter how much I want to, I can’t. He needs to be brought to justice. But I say fuck that. It’s time that bad people out there were just gone. I think jail helps those repent who commit small crimes. But repeat offenders are murderers, rapists…  They don’t care, they aren’t sorry, so neither am I.”

He eyed you up and down, you weren’t sure what he was thinking, so you broke the silence.

“You asked me to tell you why I want to do it? That’s why. I’m tired of seeing sick fucks get off on technicalities, just to get the green light to go out and do it all over again.” 

“Did a personal case happen?” he asked. You were sure he’d picked it up from people watching. The fact that people are driven by personal motive.

“No. Actually this wasn’t personal at all.” 

“So why now?” 

You shook your head. “Just… sick of it.” 

He bobbed his head for a moment before you decided to go a different path.

“So tell me about you. Debra isn’t your bio sister and your foster father was a cop. Is that where you learned how to cover your tracks?”

“Yes, it is. I’m dating a woman with two children. Debra is my only relation left alive. I don’t have any close friends, for obvious reasons. I own a boat. I have a brother that tried to kill my sister.”

“Biological?”

“Yeah, apparently my mom was butchered in front of both of us as a child and it manifested into this desire to kill. He killed prostitutes and made it a game.”

“That’s awful. Why didn’t he just come up to you and say who he was?” 

“Where is the fun in that?” he asked with a somewhat coy smile.

An odd sensation of friendliness hit you. He was being candid with you. He felt at least comfortable to joke about his true identity with you. This surprised you, and warmed your heart.

“Working girls aren’t killed?” you tried with a bit of a smile. 

“Well, I don’t agree exactly with the senseless killing but I think he wanted to get my attention. I think he was the last person in this world that truly understood me.” 

This made you pause, and for a moment, feel sorry for him. He couldn’t share his identity with anyone. He couldn’t ever be himself with those he considered close. What an awful way to live. 

“So no one besides your brother and father know about your… affliction?” 

“No. I’d like to keep it that way. If Deb found out, she’d fucking lose it.” 

You raised your hands in defense. “Only asking. I’m not telling anyone. At this point, if I told anyone my ass would be on the line too.”

“So your husband doesn’t know you’re here?”

“He knows I’m investigating. He knows I got close… I never gave him your name or anyone else’s for that matter.” 

“Again, bold or stupid.” 

“Maybe both. I took a leap of faith coming here but seeing as your father and sister are both cops, and you work for cops, I hoped you might hesitate to kill me. I also hoped that if I didn’t threaten you, you wouldn’t feel compelled to silence me.” 

He thought for only a moment before speaking. “Well if we’re really going to do this… you can’t tell your husband.” 

“Of course. He would… I don’t even want to think of what would happen if he knew I was here just talking to you and not arresting you.” 

This was true. You hadn’t really even thought about Spencer ever, ever finding out about what you were doing. Even if you never killed anyone, just the fact that you were sitting here with Dexter, and not apprehending him, would make him question your entire relationship. The thought of him discovering the truth made your chest tight and your stomach knot up. 

At best, he would divorce you, which would kill you. At worst, he would imprison you and Dexter. None of those things could ever happen.

“He doesn’t share your worldview?” he wondered, his brows knitting together.

You laughed. “No. Of course not. He believes in the justice system.”

“And you don’t?”

With a shrug, you answered, “Not really. Not any more.” 

“Kind of sad.”

“What’s sad is I do my job, get the fucker, and he gets away.” 

Dexter nodded. 

“I just can’t live in this world anymore knowing these… these monsters are out molesting kids, murdering innocent fathers, torturing animals, and they get to walk free because some asshole defense attorney pulled a bullshit loophole. It’s sickening and I just can’t do it anymore. It’s heartbreaking and enraging to do my job, work day and night to find them, and in the end, it means nothing.” 

“I know what you mean. I watch my sister work her ass off to get the criminals the ‘right way’ only for it to backfire. To have her wait days for a search warrant and in the meantime they’ve destroyed the evidence because they smelled the cops a mile away. It gets hard to watch her, and the rest of them, scramble to do what’s ‘right’ and it not work out for them. My way is faster and efficient. No more bad guy, no red tape, no chance of them repeating the offense.” 

You merely bobbed your head. The two of you sat quietly for a moment. He was probably trying to decide if he trusted you and you were trying to make sure this is really what you wanted. At this point, you could shake hands, and walk away. You would tell him to keep fighting the good fight, but that this wasn’t for you. 

But it was. 

“So will you do it? Will you teach me?” 

“What if I say no? Will you arrest me?” 

You smirked, shaking your head. “Dex, I already said I don’t want you off the streets. I won’t arrest you. I’ll pretend to keep investigating. I’ll flounder a bit. Then turn it in as a cold case with no leads. You can live your life, and I’ll live mine. You’ll never hear from me ever again.” 

“Seems too easy.”

“I’m sure it does for you. And I’m sure, with your survival instincts you’ll want to kill me, to protect your identity, but I’ll do anything and everything I can to prove to you that I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I have no evidence of it. You haven’t told me how you do it, when you do it, where you dump the bodies. All I can tie to you and some of the victims is that you work at the Miami PD and some of them have been there, that’s kind of a long shot.”

“You’ve got a point. Alright… I’ll do it.”

Your face lit up.

“You will?”

“Yes, but we need to have some ground rules. First off, you need to put me in your phone as a girl. Give me a name, I don’t care. But it will lower suspicion if I call or text and your husband is nearby. If he asks who I am, just say I’m a new neighbor.”

“And you?”

“I’ll put you in my phone as a man. I’ll tell my girlfriend something similar. We have to stay under the radar at all times.”

He grabbed your phone and keyed in a number and handed it back to you, then grabbed his phone from the counter and gave it to you. 

“Won’t people see us eventually?” you wondered.

“Yes, probably. We just explain that we hit it off during the interrogation.” 

“But until then, keep it quiet.”

“As quiet as we can.” 

“I can absolutely do that. Don’t need my husband or the FBI getting suspicious.”

A laugh rolled out of him. “No, we do not. I think that’s enough for today though. Um, I’ll call you the next time I get ready to hunt.”

The phrase took me by surprise for a second so you stopped. “Hunting as in--”

“Looking for a new victim.” 

At this, you bobbed your head. “Right.”

You began to walk out the door, Dexter behind you, making you hyper aware of your surroundings. He could still very well kill you. But he didn’t. When you got to the door, you opened it, spinning in the doorway.

“Thank you…”

“For what?” he asked, frowning.

“Trusting me. I’m sure that is extremely difficult for you. You may not even fully trust me, but you trust me enough to walk out your door and that speaks volumes for our relationship.” 

A slight smile twitched at his lips before he nodded. “Right. Well… have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too. Goodnight, Dexter.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

Could you write a James Potter x Reader where he breaks his leg in a quidditch game and has to wait over night the hospital wing for it to heal, so the reader goes down to the kitchens and bakes him Christmas cookies to cheer him up, then they just hang out in the hospital wing together, eating the cookies until curfew. Please and thank you!

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I’m going to raise the stakes a bit, hope you don’t mind and I hope you enjoy! :)

It was christmas eeeeveeee

You were so excited

Everyone’s presents were wrapped

You had forced everyone to hang stockings

The last quidditch game of the season was happening and you were in the very top row of the bleachers

Your bby James was playing

You had figured at first that a front row seat would be better but he was like 

no >:(((

U can’t see me then

If you’re at my height

Then you can see all of my greatness

smh

So you’re in the top row

And he was right

Being up there did help you see a lot better

BECAUSE YOU WERE ABLE TO MEET EYES WITH THE RAVENCLAW JERK AS HE SHOVED JAMES’ BROOM FROM BEHIND SO THAT HE PLUMMETED 

You were about to throw hands

Except you also wanted to throw hands out in front of you so you could cAtCh JaMeS

(Sirius, I believe, was not technically on the team but who doesn’t love Sirius as a beater)

So Sirius flew as fast as possible and ended up catching James

Part of James

The head part

I guess the most important part

But his legs were on their own

One literally bent bAcKwArDs

You gasped but then like

inhaled a sob

You choked

Remus helped you

It’s fine

You were escorted down to the grounds and you were permitted to follow the stretcher into the hospital wing

James was unconscious

From the fall

But Madame Pomfrey said he would be okay

You believed her

You waited for a few minutes by his bedside but then you got sad staring at him just laying there

Remus could tell

He put Sirius in charge of staying with James

And he took you down to the kitchen to bake cookies

He didn’t even throw sugar in your face

More than three times

Anyways

When you had finished the cookies you ate most of them

But you saved like a few 

You brought the rest up to the hospital wing

James was awake 

You almost dropped the cookies but Remus caught them

Bless him

You ran over and were like my dude I love you a lot are you okAy???

He almost cried he was like Madame Pomfrey says I have to stay a full 24 hours to mend my bones and that means that I won’t get out until three in the afternoon tomorrow

You were like oh bby it’s okay

“No it’s not! Tomorrow’s Christmas! I’m gonna miss the Christmas Eve party tonight, and I’m gonna miss Christmas morning with you tomorrow! I was gonna snuggle you while we opened presents together.”

:(((((((((((

You saw a lil tear slip from his eye and you were like

,,,,frick

So you devised a plan

You wiped his lil eyes and kissed him on the forehead

lil smeck :(

You gave him a cookie and were like eat my love I’ll be right back

He tried to get you to stay but you assured him that you’d be right back and that he’d definitely be glad later that you left now

You snatched Remus and Sirius 

“guyS”

“I knOw”

Sirius was like also crying

Remus had to comfort him

;)

You explained your plan to them and they were like

o

o yes

So you went to cover your end of the bargain

You talked to madame pomfrey

Once you got the all clear (she loved you)

You sent Remus and Sirius to do their parts

So three hours later the party is supposed to be starting in the common room and you’re sitting with James in the hospital wing

He’s :(((((

You kiss his hand and then the door frickin fLies open

James gets whiplash from turning his head so fast he is tErRiFiEd

Remus and Sirius come in at first

And then a few more gryffindors

And then a few more

And then the entire hospital wing is full of red and gold and alcohol :’)

Unless you’re sensitive to underage drinking in which I respect you

I just think the marauders would drink at parties idk but 

“James, I almost cried earlier because you were so upset that you were gonna miss the party, and so did Sirius, so we decided that if you couldn’t come to the party, that the party could come to you. Madame Pomfrey has graciously allowed us to host the party in here, while she stays in teh staff dorm for the night, as long as no one gets hurt, and we also shouldn’t tell her about that alcohol…”

James is crying but in a good way this time

He can’t stand but people come over to talk to him and thank him for making such a sacrifice for their house team

Even people from other houses are there

The ravenclaws come and apologize for their loser player that broke James’ leg

The player doesn’t show but it’s okay because if he did you would have pushed him out the window 

:)

The party lasts all night and James is sMaShEd so finally at one am you’re like okay y’all he needs rest to heal better and you all need jesus so plz

Leave

Get out

Shoo

You thank everyone personally on your way out and Remus and Sirius decide to stay overnight with you

They have acquired phase two of the plan

You go to sleep and all is well James isn’t crying because he’s sad just because he’s drunk and happy

You wake up Christmas morning super early and make sure that James is still asleep

You take phase 2

all of the presents that he had wanted to give to you and vice versa 

And you put his at the foot of his bed and yours at the foot of yours

Same with Remus and Sirius bc they’re still there and asleep

Remus ends up waking up next and helping you

Sirius is out lmao

Finally James stirs and you’re like

baEb

Is Crimmas!!!

Merry crisis

He sees all the presents and realizes what you’re done

He starts happy crying again hecK

He’s just really happy okay

He’s like this was the best christmas present I’ve ever gotten I love you :’)

And you do snuggle and open gifts together it’s so pure :’)

Okay so

Where do I get my James

How much is he

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[eluviansandevanuris]

Author Interview

@modernagesomniari​ graciously tagged me in this, and thanks to her i’m now working on my story more!

I’m fairly new to having a dedicated Dragon Age blog, i’ve been in this purgatory for eights years and I only recently created a dedicated blog. 

Name: EluviansAndEvanuris, for short, well...lets go with Lu.

Fandoms: Currently I have only one fic i’m working on, my first fic and it’s for Dragon age. I’ve been sitting on the idea for the past two years and only really started writing during covid. I adore the world of Thedas and I have a few one shot ideas that I try to get out. Although the only story that I have in the works is for Dragon age, there are a few other franchises that I adore; Dishonoured, Mass Effect, The Untamed and Horizon Zero Dawn to name a few

Where you post: I post here on tumblr and on AO3, on AO3 my name is therighthandofhades. In all candour, I am fairly slow at posting updates, but, i’m dedicated to my story and seeing it through to the end.

Most popular one shot: Baby fanfic author here, so currently none.

Most popular multi-chapter: Well I guess since I only have one story published, it’s technically my most popular...? So that would be The Ascent of The Lost. It picks up almost directly at the end of Trespasser. After the loss of her arm Amonkira Lavellan is grievously injured, she comes through the eluvian bleeding out and unable to control her magic. I’ve sort of planned it to be a sweeping epic with intrigue and mystery. I also love the lore and mythos of Thedas and part of the story will be taking a deep dive into the world of the ancient elves, and unraveling the mystery of what lead to their downfall. I really want to dive deep into all those wonderful little snippets we got and you can betcha that the Titans will be making an appearance.

Favourite Story you wrote: Again, bb author here so that honour once more goes to Ascent of the Lost. But... I must admit that I have an unpublished complete AU of ME: Andromeda that i’m fiddling with and I really like my ideas for it, so mayhap i’ll post it.

Story you were nervous to post: The Ascent of the Lost is the first story i’ve ever posted, so you bet your ass I was nervous. I’m still scared that my writing is garbage or that no one will read it.

How you choose your titles: Well, I suppose that I like my titles to be indicative of the theme of the story or futures events, like a wee bit of foreshadowing.

Complete: Ahhhhhh, um yeah nothing.

Incomplete: My precious firstborn.

Do you outline?: Sort of...? So I have story beats planned and scenes and events written out, but my story is sort of in pieces at the moment. I have places I need to get my story, but I have no idea what happens in between or how to get them there. I’m kind of playing a game of narrative connect the dots. A narrative Astrarium if you will. 

Coming soon/ Not yet started: So I have some wee ideas for one shots that i’d like to work on, and some ideas for a more Tevinter based fic. But I also have that ME fanfic that I really should work on. My head is a veritable swamp of half baked ideas. 

Do you accept prompts?: Ya know what, sure, why not? prompt me! I kindly request that you don’t send any smut prompts. Not because i’m against it, who doesn’t love a lil’ smut? But because I have absolutely no clue how to write smut. In time I may be able to produce quality smut, but not right now.

Upcoming Story that you are most excited to write: I’m still really excited about writing Ascent of the Lost, I really love the ideas that I have and I adore diving into lore and seeing how I can incorporate it into my fic.

Dareth Shiral

[ariela-of-aedyr]

War and Teas

I started writing up something for @pillarspromptsweekly‘s “Leaden Tea” prompt, but since it started to get a little lengthy, I’ve made the executive decision to turn it into a short multi-chapter thing that I’ll try and finish off over the next couple of weeks. 

Chapter 1: Unexpected Gathering

Ariela’s Kitchen appears to be unexpectedly closed during its usual lunch rush. Aloth learns about a long-term rivalry. Ariela is touched by the support of her friends.

Aloth paused just outside the entrance to Ariela's Kitchen; the cozy little tea room where he had begun to enjoy taking his lunch. Though it wasn't one of his usual working days, he had still found himself heading out to the cafe; seeking out the familiar atmosphere, and, if he was honest, somewhat drawn to the company of it's owner. But as his hand reached out to push open the front door, it suddenly dawned on him that despite the time being right in the middle of the shop's usual lunch rush, the pretty little handpainted sign on the door had been turned around, declaring the cafe to be closed for the day. 

Aloth frowned. Ariela hadn't mentioned anything about the cafe being closed for the day. In fact, when they had parted ways from their... um, well, date, he supposed... the night before, she had cheerily reminded that she would see him for lunch today.

Glancing in through the partially closed blinds, he could see that the interior of the cafe was, oddly, a flurry of activity. People sat around tables, chatting and laughing and seemingly... working on something? That couldn't be right. He recognised some of the faces; other regulars like himself. Certainly none of them worked for Ariela, though he knew that more than a few of them were fond of her to the point of treating her as though she was family.

There was a brief moment, in which he pondered which course of action would be best; to head elsewhere for lunch, return home, or to call Ariela and find out what was going on. But before any kind of decision could be reached, the excitable little face of Vela appeared behind the glass panel of the door, grinning widely and waving at him with more energy than any one person should be allowed to contain. And then she disappeared just as suddenly, leaving a bemused Aloth behind as she darted off further into the cafe, only returning once again after a few moments had passed, with her mother in tow.

Ariela looked somewhat stressed; her pale green hair pulled up into a messy bun, apart from the numerous wisps that had broken free to hang loosely around her face, and the apron over her pretty floral dress absolutely caked in flour, batter, and Gods knew what else. But as she spotted him on the other side of the door, her expression softened, and he felt a warm feeling spread through him as she began to dig around in her pocket for the keys to let him in.

"You're closed?" He queried, a little concerned as she swung the door open and began to usher him inside with a suspicious glance at the street outside.

"I'm never closed for you, Darling." Ariela insisted, gently ghosting flour-dusted fingers against his hand, and melting his heart in the process. "But technically, yes. I am closed. I'm making preparations for the Winter's End Market." He tilted his head curiously, and she added: "A lot of the local tea shops and bakeries enter into the food competition that they run mid-week. I need to put together something absolutely perfect so that I can enter."

There had been an odd intensity that had passed over Ariela's face as she had said that, causing Aloth some measure of confusion. He could never have pictured Ariela wanting to be better thought of than anyone else. "I never thought you to be the competitive type." 

"Oh, no, I don't think that I am especially." She promised, a wide-eyed look on her face that began to harden as she continued to speak. "I don't necessarily want to win. I just need to place higher than The Leaden Tea."

"The Leaden Tea?"

"They're a coffee shop chain."

"Oh, yes, I know that. I actually spent a lot of time in the chain on campus back whilst I was studying in Aedyr."

Ariela reached out suddenly as he spoke, grabbing both of his hands and squeezing them tightly. "Well, thank goodness you found my shop here, so that I could rescue you from their clutches!"

He let out an involuntary chuckle. "Well, I am certainly glad to have found your shop. And, well... you." 

"I truly am lucky to have met you." Ariela smiled, expression softening once again, and she pressed up onto her toes briefly to brush a kiss against his cheek, sending a flash of heat across his face as a blush began to bloom upon it. He quickly glanced about to ensure that none of the others were paying any particular attention to them, but thankfully, they all appeared to be otherwise occupied.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he attempted to redirect the conversation back to its original course. "So... why is it so important to you that you beat The Leaden Tea in this contest?"

Ariela blinked, blankly, as though she were confused as to why he would ask such a question. "Because they're terrible? They poach customers and employees from rival businesses, undercut out prices-"

"And have you seen their uniforms?" A fashionably dressed woman sat nearby interrupted. Aloth was fairly certain that he recognised her from somewhere, though he didn't think that he'd ever seen her around the cafe before. She was some sort of performer, he seemed to think. Mae or Mila, or something to that effect. "They're absolutely hideous!"

"Not my most immediate complaint, Mia." Ariela replied, with a slightly bemused expression. "Though... not entirely untrue."

"They poach your customers?" Aloth frowned.

"And try to sabotage out businesses. That's why I closed up shop today. It's not uncommon for The Leaden Tea to send out spies to collect information on what we're up to. I can't risk them finding out what I'm going to enter into the competition!"

"Hey, now." One of the other regulars stood up from a seat nearby, resting a comforting hand on Ariela's shoulder. Aloth recognised this one for certain; Eder, a tall, blonde haired Dyrwoodan, who he'd shared a table with a number of times when the shop was too busy to spare a whole table for one person. "That's what we're here for. We'll run off any Leaden Tea spies."

"There's certainly a lot of people here willing to act as your bodyguard." Aloth remarked, glancing about at the many people sat around the shop.

It was almost as busy as it would have been if the store was open, though someone had pushed a number of the tables together to make two large ones for everyone to sit around and chat. Vela was rushing about from person to person, excitedly getting involved in conversations and showing off drawings. 

Ariela laughed. "He's just being dramatic. I asked a couple of people if they'd be willing to help me choose my competition entry and put a few special packs of baked goods together to sell during the market, but apparently word got round, and a lot of people came to help."

"Well, you do have a certain natural magnetism." 

"And he's not just sayin' that cos he likes making googly eyes at you." Eder agreed, wiggling his eyebrows in Aloth's direction in an exaggerated fashion, before flashing a wide smile in Ariela's direction. "People really do like you, Ari. You shouldn't be surprised we all wanna help."

"Well, you're all wonderful, and I'm honored to have you all as friends." Ariela smiled, eyes shining a little with tears, as though emotion was threatening to literally pour out of her. Giving Eder's hand a firm squeeze, she then turned her attention back to Aloth, reaching out towards him with a gentle expression.

"Would you like to help, Darling? I have a few different things that the others are going to try, and..."

"Of course, I'd be honored to help, Ari. Just let me know what you'd like me to do."

[let-it-raines]

hello! i have a prompt: “my brother/sister talks about this friend of his and how great we would be together so he sets up a double date and holy shit, it’s the guy i slept with about a month ago” Thank you!

Hi, guys! Look, it’s a wild prompt story! I promise I didn’t abandon them, and I hope you guys enjoy this tale! 

“You don’t have to go.”

She turns back to look at the man lounging in bed, his hands crossed behind his head and his body on full display to her. She thinks about his words as her eyes trace the strong lines of his legs, the defined muscles there, and move up to his hips where the muscles dip into a v and the dark hair guides her to the already hardening length that drove her to madness no less than five minutes ago. The man is beautiful, stunning really, and she’s never seen eyes that blue or lashes that long before, not that were natural or anything.

He is stunning, and he has this deep, rumbling British accent that melted her, the one who does not melt, into a puddle of arousal while at the bar where’d they met a few hours ago. He’d been funny too, charming, all of the things that a man usually is when trying to pick up a woman at a bar, and she’d played along like they were both reading the same sheet music. She didn’t give anything but her last name, Swan, and he didn’t give anything but his last name, Jones.

All in all, it may have been one of the best one-night stands she’s ever had.

But that’s all it was. It was one night, no full names, and as much as she’d like to stay, maybe sleep with him again, it’s not really her cup of tea…or coffee. He’s the British one.

“I really do,” she tells him, pulling on her jeans, the material tight against her thighs, and zipping them up before she grabs the gray v-neck he’d been wearing earlier that showed his chest hair and the necklaces hanging against his skin, the ones she’d used to pull his mouth closer to hers. “But it was a really good time. Congrats on the,” she motions over to him, “cock.”

He snorts, the sound high pitched compared to the low rumble of his laugh. “Thanks, lass. You realize that’s my shirt, aye?”

“I know.”

“And since I’m assuming this was a one-time thing, how am I supposed to get it back?”

She shrugs, the material falling off of her shoulder while she pulls on her boots. “Guess you’ll just have to figure that one out, Jones.”

Jones raises one dark eyebrow, his forehead lines crinkling, before absolutely smirking at her. “I do love a challenge.”

“So what time am I supposed to be at dinner, Margarita?” Emma questions while brushing her teeth, the words coming out muffled.

“Six and you’re supposed to bring a dessert.”

She spits into the sink, the blue toothpaste marking the white bowl, before rinsing off her brush and sticking it in its holder. “Can I buy it?”

“No, you have to make it.”

“Are you serious? Why can’t I buy it?”

“Because Emma,” Mary Margaret scolds, using the same voice she uses with her five-year-old son, “this is a potluck dinner we’re doing with everyone from David’s work where they bring their families, and everyone is bringing something homemade.”

“And why am I coming to this again?”

“Because you’re part of David’s family.”

She groans, leaning down and splashing water on her face before applying her face wash and rubbing it in, the suds bubbling up. “I’m technically not related, genetically speaking.”

“You were adopted. That’s the same thing.”

“Technically – ”

“Emma Swan, you are going to make dessert, and you are going to put on a nice outfit and smile and come tonight. End of story.”

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath, knowing Mary Margaret can hear her through the speaker, “Leo and David better stay on your good side tonight or they’re going to be buried under your classroom books tomorrow.”

“And you with them.”

Emma hangs up the phone after Mary Margaret reminds her to bring a dessert five more times, telling her to put it in the nice serving dish they gave her for Christmas last year, and tells her to wear the blue dress. Yeah, she’s not wearing that dress tonight, but she can do everything else. Maybe. Hopefully. She lives off of take-out and leftovers, but she’s sure she can make a dessert. She just doesn’t know what.

She moves out of the bathroom after blow drying her hair and plops down on her bed, which also doubles as her couch in her studio apartment, and scrolls through her laptop for easy dessert recipes, things that don’t involve a lot of mixing or baking…which is pretty much every dessert. But then she remembers there’s such a thing as cookies and while it’s not technically handmade, she can buy the pre-made dough and pop them in the oven, problem solved. It’s following all of Mary Margaret’s weird rules – technically of course – so the woman can’t say anything. She can’t expect Emma to make a soufflé. That would be ridiculous.

It only takes her five minutes to run down to the grocery store near her apartment, popping in while still in her pajamas, and grabbing cookie dough for peanut butter cookies (so what that she enjoys those more than chocolate chip) as well as a few bananas simply because she should probably eat some fruit every now and then. The rest of her morning is spent working on her open cases, trying to find any information she can on Elizabeth Moore’s husband and whether or not he’s cheating. Her job doesn’t exactly give her a lot of confidence in the fact that people stay faithful in relationships, but she gets paid whether the spouses are cheating or not.

She just kind of prefers that they aren’t. Giving people that news isn’t exactly the best of things to do.

Around five the cookies go in the oven, and she really hopes that the whole uneven cooking thing doesn’t happen like when she was making a pizza last week. While they’re baking, she heads over to her clothing rack, grabbing a black and white plaid skirt and an oversized v-neck t-shirt, pulling them on and tucking the t-shirt in before slipping into her black ankle boots. She thinks this entire night is idiotic. She should be able to hang out with David and Mary Margaret while in sweatpants and a t-shirt, but now she’s got to do it while dressed up and with other people. That may be the worst part. It’s not that she doesn’t like other people. It’s that she doesn’t like David’s coworkers. Some of them are okay, but his boss, Walsh, is an absolute asshole who got pissed when she told him she didn’t want to date him.

Rejections hurt, dude, but there’s no need to be rude about it. They’d literally only known each other a day, and he acted like she’d broken his heart after two years of dating and then burned all of his possessions.

The timer on her phone goes off, and she heads to the oven, grabbing an oven mitt and pulling the cookies out, praying that they don’t stick or aren’t burned or undercooked. She totally should have bought something and then passed it off as her own, but whatever. What’s done is done. After plating them on the serving dish that the Nolans gave her, she makes her way out the door, walking the few blocks to their farmhouse on the outskirts of Downtown Storybrooke.

When she walks up their driveway, the street is already covered in cars, and she can see people moving inside of the home. Taking a deep breath, she prepares herself for small talk and reminds herself that the food others bring will likely make this worth it. And alcohol. There has to be alcohol.

“Emma,” Mary Margaret greets before she can even take a step up onto their porch. Was she waiting for her? “I’m so glad you’re here. And you brought cookies. Oh, I’m sure these will be wonderful.”

“Well, you know me and my culinary skills.”

“I don’t know how you survive,” Mary Margaret sighs, taking the plate from her hands and ushering her inside to the consistent chatter and clinking of glasses as well as children running back and forth.

“Takeout and your leftovers,” she answers honestly, immediately walking to the kitchen where she knows David will at least have a beer. Sure enough, he’s standing in front of the fridge talking to some guy while the both of them have bottles in their hand. The moment he sees her, he smiles, waving and beckoning her forward until she wraps her arms around his waist and hugs him in greeting. “Hey, David. You hiding out in here?”

“Just getting something to drink. Emma, I have someone I want you to meet. This is my new partner, Killian.”

She releases David to turn and greet this guy, kind words already on the tip of her tongue, but the moment she sees him, every word she’s ever known is swallowed back. Shit. Shit. Shit. How can this possibly be happening? Is the entire world playing some kind of practical joke on her? Because there’s no way in hell the guy she had a one-night stand with a month ago could possibly be her brother’s new partner down at the station.

Just no. This isn’t happening.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” he greets, the accent exactly the same as it was a month ago even in a different, far brighter environment. “I’m Killian Jones.”

“Emma Swan,” she grits out, plastering a smile on her face knowing that David is right next to her and not wanting him to have any idea that his partner has slept with her. That would be a disaster for everyone. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

He smiles, his perfectly white teeth on full display, and she tries to ignore the flashes of their night together that are coming back. This is all one big nightmare and something that’s not going to go away as long as he’s working with David. She just hopes that he doesn’t say something stupid. She doesn’t know the man. She’s only met him once, and despite a good first impression, she’s not sure if he’s going to be a jerk about things or not.

“I like your shirt, love. I used to have one just like it.”

Heat rises to her cheeks, her entire face likely as red as a tomato, and it takes everything in her not to tell him to fuck off even if she did steal his shirt. Instead she says, “Thanks. I’m sure you can find a replacement for yours. They’re pretty common.” She turns to David then, not wanting to continue this conversation. “You got one of those for me?”

David nods before opening the fridge and handing her a beer. She takes it, twisting it open, and excuses herself claiming to go talk to Mary Margaret. Really, she’s heading away from anyone who has seen her naked and just attempting to breathe. And maybe to get something to eat. There’s got to be good food here.

It’s later that she’s sitting in the living room picking at her plate when the seat on the couch next to her is suddenly taken, the weight causing her to shift the slightest bit.

“Listen, love – ”

“I’m not your love.”

Killian clicks his tongue, and she turns to stare at him, wondering how he could protest that at all, but as she faces him, she sees Mary Margaret staring at her from the kitchen, not even trying to hide it. And that’s when she gets it. This night was going to be a set up between she and Killian, and she is not falling for that. She despises Mary Margaret’s set ups, and this one is especially not going to work.

“I am aware of this, Swan,” he drawls, bringing her attention back to him. “That’s what I was trying to say. I, well, I am perfectly aware of what our dalliance was. I’m not expecting anything else, and from what I gather, you’d like it to be kept a secret from your brother.”

Who the hell calls a one-night stand a dalliance?

“I would. I don’t exactly share my dalliances with him to begin with, but I think it’d be smart for us to keep it quiet. And to ignore the set up that Mary Margaret is obviously trying to do.”

He raises an eyebrow, his forehead crinkling with the movement. “Set up?”

“Ah, yes,” she sighs, leaning back on the couch and resting her head on the cushion, “how many times have you met Mary Margaret?”

“Three times.”

“And how long did it take you before she weaseled out that you are single? You are single, right?” He nods his head, and she sighs in relief knowing she didn’t sleep with a married man. She is not here to be doing shit like that.

“I think she asked me the first time we met if I was married or have children. She wasn’t very subtle about it.”

“Yeah, that’s Margarita for you.”

“I’m sorry, Margarita?”

“It’s a nickname. She’s been plastered once in her life, and it was because of margaritas. I thought it was a fitting nickname. Anyways, she’s in love with love. Like, she thinks weddings are the best thing on the planet, that Hallmark movies are great cinematic feats, and mostly, it’s her lifelong goal to set me up with a man who will marry me and knock me up.”

Killian grimaces, his face scrunching up so that the lines around his eyes crinkle. “That sounds…interesting.”

“Yep.” She looks around the room, checking to see if anyone is listening, but they’re all still caught up in their own conversations. “So in you walk in, likely a new transfer to the police station, and she sizes you up. She sees that you’re attractive, single, and I’m guessing a charmer if how we met is any indication. So in her head, she’s putting us together, thinking that we’d be a great match, and I can almost guarantee that she’s likely imagined what our children would look like.”“That’s bloody disturbing.”

“That’s Mary Margaret. So when tonight is over, you’re going to leave, and I’m going to be bombarded with questions by her, and David will be forced to ask you questions at work tomorrow. Just say that I’m a nice girl, but I’m not your type or something cliché. They get disappointed, but it works.”

“Well, what makes you say that we’re not going to hit if off? I think we’re doing great.”

She scoffs, the familiar heat rising to her cheeks that she’s trying to tamper down so that her face doesn’t turn red. “I don’t do relationships, and I really don’t do them with people who I slept with just to release some tension.”

Something crosses his face, a mix between amusement and disappointment, but he quickly schools his features. “If that’s what you want.” He studies her for a minute, the blue of his eyes tracing her face until they trail down to her exposed shoulder. “I could arrest you for stealing my shirt, you know?”

She clicks her tongue before leaning over and whispering in his ear. “You should probably know not to sleep with random women at bars then. You never know if they might be a thief.”

She’s sitting in the corner of the Velveteen Café with her hat pulled low over her forehead and her laptop in front of her as she watches to see who Hunter Moore is meeting, if he’s even meeting anyone. He comes here nearly every day at the same time, but it’s usually always alone. If he’s with someone, it’s a fellow doctor, and she’s almost completely sure that he’s not cheating on his wife. They definitely have some obvious communication issues, but Mr. Moore seems like a guy who goes to work, eats the same lunch every day, and then goes home to his wife. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who is sleeping with a nurse on the side…unless that’s exactly what he’s doing and that’s why she hasn’t seen anything. She can’t exactly sneak around the hospital looking in on call rooms. And she’s pretty sure Grey’s Anatomy overexaggerates people sleeping together in hospitals…not that it doesn’t happen. It just doesn’t happen at that frequency.

She makes a note to figure out a way to check out what’s happening in the hospital and to see if she can find a reason to roam the hallways without breaking some kind of privacy law, but for now, she thinks that she’s likely getting paid just to tell Elizabeth Moore that she needs to talk to her husband, which is so not what her job is supposed to be.

Her phone rings, Mary Margaret’s picture popping up from Leo’s fifth birthday party, and she slides her finger across the screen to quietly answer so as not to disturb anyone else in the café. “Hey, Margarita.”

“Hi, hon,” she greets, the sound of children eating in the cafeteria at her school in the background, “do you have a minute to talk?”

“I’m on a bit of a stakeout, but I can multi-task. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to talk about the party the other night. You and Killian seemed to be getting along.”

And there it is. She was wondering when this was going to happen, and honestly, Mary Margaret waiting nearly a week is some impressive resolve.

“Marg, that may have been one of your more obvious set ups. Seriously. You have absolutely no shame.”

“Oh come on, Emma. The man is beautiful and so, so kind. You guys would be so good together. Why won’t you give him a chance?”

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose while watching Mr. Moore order his food (alone). “He’s a nice guy, but I’m just not interested.”

“Why not?”

“You know why.”

“It’s been years since Neal. You can’t let him still affect you like this.”

“He fucking cheated on me and then tried to frame me for him stealing jewelry. If I hadn’t been with David at the time, I’d be in jail. That’s not something you just get over.”

“Emma – ”

“Just no, Mary Margaret. I love you, and I appreciate all that you do, but no more set ups. No more trying to get me to be happy when I already am.”

“I’m…I’m sorry. I was just trying to be a good friend.”

“I know, and you are. But maybe we go about it in a different way, yeah?”

Mary Margaret sighs on the other end of the phone at the same time that a bell rings. “I’ve got to go. Will we still see you at dinner at Friday night dinner?”

“Yep. Can’t break that. Emily Gilmore would have my head. Love you, Margarita.”

“Love you, too.”

Moore leaves at the same time as he always does, and because she does need to check out what he does after this, she follows him back to the hospital. He stops at the reception desk, chatting with the people who work there, before moving along and taking an elevator, the doors closing before she can get there to see where he’s going. Damn.

Sighing, she walks back toward the entrance, fully intent to come up with some kind of new game plan, when she walks right into a solid body.

“If you wanted to get close to me, all you had to do was ask.”

Is the world out to get her? It has to be. Hasn’t she had enough bad luck in life? Can’t she catch some kind of break?

“Hi, Jones,” she grits, rolling her eyes and backing up, releasing her grip on his biceps, “that was, um, an accident. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

He reaches up to scratch behind his ear while his lips tick up on one side. “Swan, what are you doing at the hospital? Everything alright?”

“I’m working.”

“Are you a doctor?”

She scoffs, the thought of her being a doctor absolutely ridiculous. “I’m a private investigator.”

He quirks an eyebrow again, something she’s learned that he does frequently. “Interesting.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just fitting for you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she sighs, taking a step to the side so she can leave. “I’ve got to go.”

“See you around, Swan,” he smiles, subtly winking at her. “If only because we can’t seem to stop running into each other. Literally.”

For someone who she didn’t see for a month after they slept together, she sees Killian Jones at least once every few days ever since the party at David and Mary Margaret’s house. If part of her job wasn’t watching people’s moves and noticing subtle changes and differences, she’d think he was stalking her. But he’s not.

When she sees him at the police station while meeting David for lunch, that’s on her for going to his place of work. When he joins them for said lunch, that’s on David for inviting him. She wants to say that it’s awkward, and honestly it kind of is when he licks his lips or makes one of those creepy, sensual sounds that some people do while eating, but it’s not truly awkward. As far as she can tell, he’s not a bad guy. An incessant flirt but not a bad guy. But he’s still someone who she slept with who she has no interest in getting to know more, so she suffers through the lunch because she wants to spend time with David.

It’s a little bit weirder when she sees him at the grocery store, loading up on fruits and vegetables as well as fresh fish while she’s got processed food, frozen pizza, and the obligatory fruit she picks up to trick herself into being a healthy eater. She works out a hell of a lot so she can eat junk, but at some point she should likely tone it down. They say their hellos, casually look into the other’s cart, and then go on with their lives only to meet up on the sidewalk while walking home. She forgot that he lives a few apartment buildings down from her, and when she mentions that while they’re walking, his face flushes and he scratches behind his ear before dismissing the fact that she knows where he lives.

By the time she starts seeing him at her gym, lifting weights while she’s on mile four of her run wondering if it’s all worth it as sweat pools at the small of her back, she’s kind of accepted that he’s now a casual part of her life. They say hi, make small talk, and she tries to forget how he looks while thrusting into her as sweat coats his arms and forms at his forehead while he exercises. Yeah, so the gym is the worst place to see him. She obviously finds him attractive, wouldn’t have slept with him if she didn’t, but she’s starting to be attracted to him, which is not something that she wants.

Storybrooke is simply too damn small.

It’s pouring down rain this morning, the dips in the street filling with water while cars drive through it and splash the water up onto the sidewalk. This weather makes her absolutely miserable, and all she really wants is to cuddle up in bed and watch Netflix all day with the lights turned off. The only problem with that is that she’s starving today and doesn’t feel like cooking, so she dresses in her rain boots and coat, bundling up and driving to Granny’s, not even bothering to walk. When she walks inside, the bell ringing over the door, there’s only a few people inside, Leroy, Victor, Ashley and Sean…Killian.

She chuckles under her breath when she sees him sitting in the back booth, a cup of coffee and an omelet on his table while he reads the newspaper. She knew he was old fashioned, but she didn’t know he was thatold fashioned. She doesn’t know what possess her to walk across the small diner and slide into the seat across from him, but she does, the material of the booth squeaking when her wet jacket touches it.

“Hello, love,” Killian greets without looking up from his newspaper.

“What are you reading?”

He passes the newspaper over to her while taking a sip of his coffee, seemingly not bothered at all by her intrusion of his breakfast, and when she sees what he was reading, she’s honestly in no way shocked.

“You’re reading about soccer in the newspaper?”

“Football, Swan. It’s called football.”

“In America, football is something totally different and the players aren’t quite as hot as soccer players.”

Killian chuckles, his lips ticking up on both sides while his eyes crinkle, and she feels proud of herself for making him laugh. “I played…soccer as a child. Does this hotness thing apply to me?”

“Shut up, Jones,” she laughs, passing the newspaper back to him and flagging down Ruby with a wolf whistle knowing that’s the best way to get her attention when she’s flirting with Victor. “But seriously. Couldn’t you have just read about this on your phone or something?”

“Eh, most likely, but this paper costs a quarter, and I like to give back to a dying industry.”

“Aren’t you a philanthropist?”

“Philanthropist and hot football player. You’re flattering me this morning, Swan.”

“I did not say the hot thing.”

“I think you’re hot,” Ruby adds in when she walks up to the table, winking at Killian only for him to wink back. Something settles in her stomach. It’s heavy and unfamiliar, and she hates it. “You need some more coffee, Officer?”

“I believe Miss Swan was trying to get your attention, love.”

“I know,” Ruby sighs, looking over to her then, “I was just messing with Emma. She hates when I don’t get her food right away even when I already put in her regular order.”

“Such a saint, Rubes.”

“I know, I know. I’m going to go get your coffee now since you don’t take it black like this weirdo.”

Ruby walks away after pouring Killian’s coffee and as Emma’s about to excuse herself to sit somewhere else, the awkwardness beginning to sink in, her phone buzzes in her back pocket.

Ruby: When did you and Jones start dating?

If she had a drink, she’d spit it out.

Emma: We’re not.

Ruby: I don’t believe it.

Ruby: Do you want whipped cream on your waffles?

Emma: Obviously.

Ruby: So you are dating?

Emma: No, I just want the whipped cream.

Ruby: Okay, but don’t use it to get freaky in the bathroom.

She snorts as she looks down at her phone before putting it away and finding Killian with an amused look on his face as he stares at her. “What? Why are you staring?”

“Nothing. You just looked amused.”

“It’s just Ruby being ridiculous. You’ll learn her ways eventually.”

“So I’ve gathered since I moved here.”“Why, um,” she begins, already regretting the words. “Never mind.”

“No, love, you can ask.” He smiles, nodding his head as if to encourage her that he doesn’t mind her asking him personal questions.

“Why did you move here? Storybrooke isn’t exactly a place where a lot of detectives want to move.”

Killian shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee even as steam moves above it. How is he not burning his tongue? “I, um, well, I’d been living in Boston the past few years, working there, but I needed a change of pace.”

“Bad breakup?”

“You could say that.”

That’s not an answer, but it’s really none of her business. He’s sharing more than she ever expected him to. “Well, I’m sorry. Breakups are hell, even if they’re amicable.”

“Aye.”

Ruby brings her food and coffee to her then, the whipped cream piled extra high on the waffles, and she has to stifle her laugh when she sees that. She and Killian chat a bit more as she eats and he finishes his food, and by the end of her meal, she realizes how normal that was, how normal a lot of their interactions have been. It shouldn’t be like this. If she were to run into any of her other one-night stands, she’d literally run in the other direction. But she’s forming what has to be a friendship with him, and she’s not sure that she likes that.

“Okay, so explain to me why we’re meeting at your house at four in the morning.”

“Because Killian mentioned to David that he was going to wake up early to watch a soccer game, and David invited him to watch at our house and make it this whole thing to make him feel at home. He’s apparently been through some things in the past few years.”

She wants to ask what things, to question it more, but it doesn’t feel right asking about his past behind his back. She’d be pissed if someone did that to her, so she leaves it be, pushing the curiosity about how bad exactly his breakup was for David and Mary Margaret to be trying to get her to watch a soccer game before the sun has even risen. “And why am I coming to this, Margarita?”

“Because,” she sighs on the other end, “hey, no Leo. Don’t get something to eat. Dinner is in a few minutes. Because he doesn’t have a lot of friends, and you guys are kind of friends. Also we’re going to cook a big breakfast.”

“Well, now you’re speaking my language.”

Her alarm goes off at half past three the next morning, and instead of getting dressed, she brushes her teeth and braids her hair before driving to David and Mary Margaret’s house. She should have walked, but she doesn’t think her legs are capable of that it this moment. Of course, driving probably wasn’t the best option, but she’s here and didn’t hit anyone.

“I hate you,” she mumbles to Mary Margaret as soon as she walks in, immediately making her way into the living room and flopping down on the couch next to Killian who looks wide away as he turns on the television. “I hate you too.”

“Good morning to you too, Swan,” he greets, his voice tired but cheery. “What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

“It’s still dark outside, and I’m up to watch soccer. I don’t even do that on my own time when it’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

The match starts, but with the way that the lights in the room are all turned off, all she can really do is drift off to sleep as the whistle blows. When she wakes, there’s a warm body and moving chest underneath her cheek while a hand plays with the hair at the end of her braid. The green of the field comes back into vision first, the game still going on, and then everything else comes back to her.

Please be David she’s leaning on. Please be David.

“Get in a good nap there, Swan?”

It’s not David. Shit.

“What time is it?”

“Just past five, love. You fell asleep before the match started.”

“Ah hell,” she sighs when she finally sits up, the loss of warmth immediate, “so I literally came over here for nothing.”

“Well, we had a nice cuddle, so I wouldn’t say that.”

She chokes on her own saliva, having to cough it up. She can’t believe he just said that…that he was so open to admitting that. She is not like that. She avoids and denies. She does not just state the obvious that she fell asleep on him.

Killian pats her back, trying to help her, but she’s pretty sure that he makes it worse. God, this is not at all how this morning was supposed to go. She was supposed to watch a sport she doesn’t care about and eat food, and all she’s done is accidentally fall asleep and drool on Killian’s shirt before choking.

“Did you really just say that?”

He shrugs. “It’s what happened.”

“No, I fell asleep and happened to lean to the left when I could have leaned to the right. It was an accident.” She finally looks around the room then, noticing that the other seats are empty. “Where are David and Mary Margaret?”

“They went upstairs and went back to bed.”

…no. Hell no. This is not happening. She cannot believe them. “Fuck. Are you serious?”

“Yeah, about thirty minutes ago they went back upstairs. Said they’d come back down for breakfast around six or seven with Leo.”

She gets up from the couch, shedding the blanket Killian must have covered her with before she begins pacing the room, trying to calm her heartrate even as the pacing makes it speed up. “This was another set up. And it wasn’t even subtle. A soccer game at four in the morning? Claiming that you needed some friends to watch with because you’re missing home? That’s so obvious, and I didn’t even see it. And then they go to bed when they’re supposed to be spending time here with you. What a load of crap.”

“Swan, I don’t think that’s what’s happening here.”

“Of course it is! I bet you didn’t even mention that there was a game. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Love, calm down,” Killian encourages, stepping over to her and placing his hands on her shoulders so that she looks up at him. “I did mention the match, and I have been having a hard time missing home. Last week was the anniversary of my brother’s death, and they saw that I needed some company. And I told them to go back to bed when they were yawning every two seconds. I promise this wasn’t a set up. I wouldn’t let them do that to you or to me. I’m not interested in being set up.”

Wait. What? His brother? He has a brother. Or really, he had a brother. Oh. Shit.

“Oh…I, um, I feel like an idiot. I didn’t know…about any of that, about your brother.”

“Tis not your fault. It’s not something I like to talk about.”

An awkward silence settles between the two of them, his hands still on her shoulders and her toes resting against his. If she pressed up on her toes, she could kiss him, and the thought shakes her. She’s kissed him before. He’s a damn good kisser, and she’s tempted to do it again. But now isn’t the time for something like that. He just told her about his dead brother, so instead of pressing up on her toes, she wraps her arms around his stomach and hugs him, holds him really. It takes a moment for him to hug her back, the hesitance obviously there, but he eventually does, pulling her body closer to him and feeling the heat of it.

“Thank you, Emma.”

It’s the first time he’s called her Emma, and she doesn’t know why that’s something she notices, but she does. And she feels some kind of monumental shift in…everything.

Instead of going back and watching the game, she and Killian head into the Nolans’ kitchen. Killian’s apparently a big cook, so he directs her in slicing apples and mixing flour all to make a breakfast casserole with bread, apples, cheese, and bacon. It sounds kind of gross, but he promises that it’ll be good. She doesn’t know when she started trusting him, but she does, in his breakfast food prowess and in life.

She doesn’t ask, but he tells her all about Liam and how he was a brother, father, and best friend all rolled up into one after their father abandoned them and their mom died of cancer. It breaks her heart at the same time that she’s breaking an egg, but it also reassures her that Killian understands what it’s like to be left alone. Except she found a family in David and Ruth and eventually Mary Margaret, and he lost his.

Liam was his Captain in the Royal Navy, literally and figuratively, and when he died ten years ago, so did Killian’s passion and love for the service and the sea. How he tells the story without breaking all while cooking is something she doesn’t understand, but maybe he’s stronger than her. Or maybe he’s learned to be alone and how to deal with his grief.

Mostly, she thinks he’s just being brave.

“So how did you end up here, though? I know you said a breakup, but that sounds like an awfully bad breakup for you to have to leave Boston. That’s a huge ass city.”

He pops the casserole in the oven before washing his hands, seemingly avoiding her question, but then he sits on the barstool and looks at her with the clearest blue eyes she’s ever seen. “I was dating a married woman, Milah. I bloody loved her even when I found out she was married, and I was going to stay with her. I was in too deep when I found everything out, and I think I was too weak to walk away.”

“What changed?”

“She decided to go back to her husband, or really to commit solely to her husband. And, God, love, I can’t blame her. She was never supposed to be with me, but she broke my heart regardless.”

She doesn’t know what to say, how to respond to that. She’s learned so much about Killian Jones in the past hour, and she’s the wrong person for him to be trusting with his heart. She doesn’t even trust herself with her own.

“I know you probably think I’m a fuck up,” he continues, his voice the most broken she’s heard it.

“Hey,” she soothes, reaching over the counter and placing her hands over his knuckles, “I don’t think that at all. We’ve all got fucked up pasts.”

“Yeah?”

“I could fill a book with mine. One day, I might even share them with you.”

“Does this mean you’re planning on speaking to me again after today?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He smiles, and it’s beautiful. “Perhaps I would.”

Killian: Did you know you’re twice as likely to be killed by a vending machine than a shark?

Emma: There’s no way that’s true.

Killian: It is. There’s scientific proof.

Killian: I have a university degree, love.

Emma: Yeah, well, so does Leroy, and I don’t trust him.

Killian: I am not Leroy.

Emma: True, but he’s more of a charmer than you.

Killian: …

Killian: I think you owe me an apology for that.

Killian: I am much more charming.

Emma: Did you know that statistically speaking Leroy Coleman is more likely to be more charming than Killian Jones?

The three little dots indicating he’s typing don’t pop up immediately like they have been for the past hour, and she stares at her phone a little too long to wait for them to appear. This has been happening far too often lately, not the waiting for him to text back…just the texting in general. It’s every day, all day, even with the sporadic gaps between them when they’re working. If she thinks about it, she can piece together all of the little moments where she and Killian became friends, but she knows that the biggest part of it was that day at David and Mary Margaret’s. it’s been weeks since then, summer completely fading into fall as October began and pumpkins were placed at every door step while colorful leaves cover the ground.

What she can’t pinpoint is the moment she developed real feelings past attraction for him. They’ve probably always been there, simmering beneath the surface waiting to boil over ever since that first night, but she hasn’t let them. But now it’s not just the fact that she knows how he kisses and how he…maneuvers himself in the bedroom. It’s also that she knows who he is as a person. He’s kind and smart and funny, and he has the ability to turn any conversation into a dirty joke. Seriously. Last week there was one when they were talking about cherries on the top of a milkshake and…never mind. She can’t even think it without turning as red as, well, a cherry.

So she likes him. She likes him even though she told herself she shouldn’t, and she likes him even though she knows it’ll give Mary Margaret some kind of sick satisfaction that her set up worked, even if Emma technically met Killian all on her own.

Killian: What size t-shirt do you wear?

Emma: I feel like this is some kind of weird, creeper question.

Killian: Obviously, yes.

Emma: I wear a small for fitted t-shirts, but I usually go a size or two up for others.

Emma: Why?

Killian: That’s my secret to keep.

“Weirdo,” she laughs to herself, shoving her phone in her back pocket and going back to working on her new case since she finally finished the Moore case. He wasn’t even cheating, and it took months to figure out. Go figure.

“Happy Birthday,” Ruby screams the moment she walks into the Rabbit Hole, holding her arms out and smothering Emma in a hug that takes her breath away. “You need shots.”

“I am not getting drunk tonight, Rubes,” she tells her as she pushes her away so that she has her personal space.

“What the hell is the point of going out to a bar for a birthday if you’re not going to get drunk?”

“To celebrate me and the fact that I’ve made it twenty-eight years without dying?”

“Such an accomplishment.”

Ruby hooks her arm around her shoulders, dragging her over to where the rest of her friends are waiting…except for Killian. He’s supposed to be here. He said he would be here, and she doesn’t see him anywhere.

What the hell?

David, Mary Margaret, Victor, and Ruby keep her entertained, buying her a beer or two and not anything like vodka, and as much as she tries to not be disappointed and think about Killian, not showing up, she can’t. He is supposed to be here. He isn’t supposed to leave. So where is he?

“Swan,” a familiar voice yells, and she finds its owner when she looks over to the entrance. He’s standing there in black jeans and an unbuttoned plaid shirt with a white t-shirt underneath it, his hair windswept and honestly a bit crazy, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is that he showed up…and a little bit about why he was late.

She starts moving at the same time that he does, his feet carrying her faster than hers, and when they reach each other, it’s like a bit of a cheesy rom com moment until he knocks his forehead into hers while going in for a hug and the both of them recoil in pain.

“Shit.”

“Fuck.”

“I, uh,” he holds out a wrapped present, “happy birthday, love.”

She takes the package out of his hands, feeling the light weight of it, before looking up at him and slapping his chest. “Where the hell were you?”

“Ah,” Killian sighs, scratching behind his ear and ticking his lips up on one side, “it’s your present. I meant to get it last week, but for some reason it was bloody hard to find in Storybrooke. And I got distracted and busy at work, and I had to drive to the Target outside of town tonight to get it. But then I got a flat tire, and it’s just been…it’s been a disaster. But I’m here now.”

“This is true. It kind of sounds like you had some shit luck there.”

Killian leans forward and presses a kiss against her cheek, his lips warm and whiskers rough, and she sighs into it. “I’m kind of hoping that it’s going to get better.”

She is too.

Emma keeps to her words of not getting drunk, only drinking too beers and taking one shot of tequila to appease Ruby, but even with the alcohol and slight buzz, she’s every bit as coherent as she normally is. And that’s exactly why she notices and isn’t bothered by the fact that the only one of her friends remaining is Killian, everyone else slipping out the door and going home some time ago.

“I should probably go home soon, Jones.”

“Aye. Can I walk you home?”

“Such a gentlemanly offer.”

“Well, I am always a gentleman.”

They walk out of the Rabbit Hole, her present from Killian still unwrapped and in her hand, before ambling out onto the streets of Storybooke and back to her apartment. Like everywhere in this town, nothing is out of walking distance, so it only takes a few minutes before they’re standing at the front door that leads into her building.

“You can open that, you know,” Killian suggests as he nods down to the box in her hand. “I was kind of hoping you would.”

“Yeah?”“Absolutely.”

She carefully undoes the paper then, noticing how meticulously he’s wrapped the package, before sliding the box out and undoing the tab. She laughs when she sees the soft gray t-shirt, inside, pulling it up and holding it out. This is why he asked her the size of her shirt. How could she be so stupid so as not to think about it?

“You know, I like that shirt, darling. I used to have one just like it, but it seems to have disappeared.”

She hums, closing her eyes and contemplating her next words. When she says them, she means them and all of their implications, the buildup of the last few months finally reaching its peak. “I have one upstairs if you’d like to borrow it.”

Killian’s eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline, and he takes a step closer to her, the scent of his cologne mixed with beer invading her nostrils. “I think I’d like that.”

The walk upstairs is full of anticipation, the air between them incredibly thick despite the amount of space that’s separating them. Killian is keeping his distance, staying a few stairs behind her, but when they get to her door, he cages her in, pushing her into the wood and grabbing her hips while he presses gentle, hesitant kisses up and down her neck that make her head dizzy.

“You are a bloody marvel.”

The words she wants to say are caught in her throat as he nibbles on her earlobe, soothing every bite with his tongue, so instead of talking she turns in his arms and captures his lips with hers. It’s exactly the same as the first time, his body and lips warm as they press into her and his hair just as soft while her fingers sink into the locks, holding him as close as possible. But this isn’t Jones, her one night stand who she’s about to use as a way to scratch an itch. This is Killian, a friend, a confidant, and maybe something a little more that doesn’t quite sound like the Golden Girls theme song.

“Emma,” he breathes, his voice husky and deep, “is this going to be a one-time thing again? Because…because I can’t. I can’t be nothing to you.”“I know. And it’s not. You’re not.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, letting this moment sink in, “it’s just…I’m not sure if I’m ready for everything yet. I think maybe we should take it bit by bit. Naturally. I’m not good with trying to live up to expectations.”

“I’m not either.”

He kisses her again, soft and sweet and full of all of the affection that she’s been feeling for him lately. He makes her head dizzy with the way his tongue traces her bottom lip, her spine tingling with the sensations, and when he licks into her mouth, she’s glad for the door supporting her back.

“Do you want to…do you want to go inside?”

“Aye,” he growls against her jaw, “I was promised a t-shirt.”

Everything is different than the first time they were together. Things are slower, softer, but they’re somehow more passionate. Yeah, things are a bit awkward, bodies hitting hard surfaces and knees and elbows stabbing soft body parts while trying to maneuver into good positions, but once they’re situated, Killian slides into her in one slow motion, and she feels absolutely everything. As he moves above her, making sure that his lips never leave her lips, her skin, her hair, she gets lost in the moment, forgetting everything that’s led to them being here and just being glad that they are here.

After, they’re wrapped under the covers of her bed, her feet tucked between his calves while his hands roam across her skin, somehow always finding their way back to her hair and twisting with the strands. He’s so gentle and kind, things she never would have thought in the beginning, and she’s really glad that the town of Storybrooke somehow had a way of pushing them back together.

“So,” she sighs, scooting a little closer to him in the bed and wrapping her arms around his neck, “what do we do from here?”

“Well,” Killian begins, leaning forward and brushing his lips over her bare shoulder, “I think we do that a hell of a lot more.”

“Obviously yes.”

“But I also think that you let me take you out on a date or fifty.”

“Fifty? You’re shooting high there.”

He chuckles against her skin before kissing her, the softest of pecks that she barely feels. “Well, we start with one. I let you see how absolutely charming I am, and then we work our way into having fifty first dates.”

“Are you referencing the Adam Sandler rom com?”

“Absolutely. Don’t you know that Mr. Sandler is the peak romantic comedy lead?”

She barks out a laugh, something that she feels in her chest and the rest of her body, and she honestly just feels light, happy even. “I thought that was Tom Hanks.”

“Well, darling,” Killian purrs, pushing her over and crawling over her body so that he’s caging her in, “I’ll have you know that Hanks and Sandler have nothing on me.”

They don’t. Killian Jones far outdoes Hanks and Sandler and any other romantic comedy lead (take that Gosling) when it comes to romancing her. It’s not always easy, and she’s definitely not easy to love, but Killian doesn’t seem to care. He takes her on the first date, and if she’s honest with herself, that date never really ends. It goes on forever, and she likes it that way.

She likes them together. Okay, she loves them together after a couple of months, and at the end of every day, she comes home to an apartment that’s full of their things together with two gray v-neck t-shirts hanging in the closet.

And Mary Margaret absolutely does not get the credit for setting them up.

[maastrash]

Hi! Could you do the first neighbors prompt for Elriel?

Hi nonnie!! Thank you for the request :) I hope you enjoy 💗💗💗

Holiday HC Request List

Is it Christmas without an ER trip?

Elain was flustered

No, that was an understatement

She was going full-on insane

She had a pie baking in the oven, pasta boiling in a pot, and she still needed to make more dishes

Feyre’s boyfriend Rhysand was hosting Christmas this year and of course, Elain wanted to make a good impression

She had never cooked for Feyre’s friends or been to Rhys’s house which just made this situation all the more stressful

After hours of prepping Elain knows she has to go or she’ll be late

And she does not want to be late

Elain goes outside to open her car trunk because she won’t be able to simultaneously carry the dishes and open the car

Precariously balancing 5 dishes on her arms and chest she slowly makes her out of the house

“Hey, do you need a hand with that?”

Elain turns “Thank you, but I think I’m al-

She slips, falling right on her ankle, the dishes crashing down around her

Before she can even process what just happened, the most beautiful man she has ever seen is leaning over her, looking very concerned

“Oh my god, I am so sorry that I distracted you, are you ok?” he asks

Elain tries to move “Yea I think I’m go-” she winces

“Ok never mind I’m not good”

“That ankle looks like it could be broken and you look pretty scraped up,” he says evaluating her, “I think we need to go to the ER”

“Oh man, I had to bring all these dishes to my sister’s Christmas celebration!” Elain groans  “Although it doesn’t look like there’s a point now” 

The man looks at her sympathetically “I’m really sorry about all your hard work, but you really should let me take you to the hospital.”

“Usually I would say no to strangers” she chuckles “But it looks like I don’t really have any other option.”

He laughs “Well if it makes you feel better, I live like two houses down so technically I’m your neighbor and not a complete stranger.”

That actually does make me feel better” she smiles “I’m Elain, and you are?”

“Azriel,” he says shaking her hand “Here let me try and get you in my car”

Elain tries to not squeal in pain as he lifts her off the icy ground 

Although she’s in pain she can’t help but notice how muscular he is

Her heart begins beating faster and her cheeks begin to redden

Elain sighs in relief once she’s in the car glad that her breathing has finally returned back to normal, not from the pain ;)

“Hey Azriel I’m really sorry if I’m ruining your Christmas plans. Feel free to drop me off at the hospital. You are in no way obligated to stay with me”

He chuckles “Elain honestly don’t worry at all. I was just on my way to my brother’s house and he’s going to be with his girlfriend all night. Plus, I am for sure not leaving you alone on Christmas with a possible broken ankle.”

She can’t help but smile

How did she get lucky enough to end up with the most handsome and caring male on Christmas?

“Ok” she replies, “Only if you’re sure”

“ I am 100% sure and good thing too because we’re here”

Azriel parks the car, grabs a wheelchair, and brings Elain to the ER desk

“Hi there, my neighbor here slipped in the snow and we think she may have broken her ankle”

The women look concerned, “Has she been drinking? It’s only 4 pm”

Elain’s cheeks flush “No ma’am I’m sober,  just a total klutz”

The receptionist doesn’t look convinced, but proceeds “Ok go ahead and wheel her to room 5, a nurse will be in shortly to take x rays”

They thank the woman and head towards the room

“I can’t believe I am actually stupid enough to end up in the ER on Christmas, completely sober”

Azriel laughs “Hey is it really Christmas without an ER trip?”

Elain smilies “ I guess not”

As they’re waiting, they realize they have a lot more in common than they originally thought

In fact, they enjoy each other’s company so much that Elain is disappointed when the nurse finally takes her away to do x rays

When she comes back in a cast, Az wants to be the first to sign it

As he’s signing Elain looks up at the clock

“Oh my goodness it’s almost 9! I’m sorry I made you so late to your brother’s party Azriel”

“Don’t worry!” he laughs “I don’t even think Rhysand noticed”

“Wait did you say Rhysand?” she asks

“Yea why?”

“Because I was supposed to meet my sister’s boyfriend, Rhysand, at his house for a Christmas party”

Wait are you Elain, Feyre’s sister?”

“Yea that’s me, Elain Archeron”

“Wow, I can’t believe I didn’t put this together! Usually, people say I’m super observant”

“I guess not observant enough” Elain giggles  “But this is perfect then, we can go together”

Azriel grins “That is perfect”

Elain never thought she would be happy to have a broken leg, but leaving the hospital and looking up at Azriel, she couldn’t be any more thankful for her clumsiness 

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Owlship

Creator name (AO3): Owlship

Creator name (Tumblr): v8roadworrier

Link to creator works: https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/owlship

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: i am still asking myself this question! something about fury road grabbed me at just the right point in my life to interest me, and the people & community i found have been just wonderful at keeping me feeling interested & connected. i love that the world presented is clearly well thought-out and cohesive, while at the same time allowing for a huge variety of explorations even while staying strictly within the bounds of canon.

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: well, it's pretty clear that i adore the relationship between max & furiosa, since they star in 90% of my fics, and au's are kind of my thing. i don't consciously have a style that i write in- i just try and write more-or-less what i think could reasonably happen, i suppose, and to be honest i think of my actual writing as pretty utilitarian, rather than anything with a nice artistic style. probably the most frequent recurring theme in my fics is pining leading up to a happy ending, and i like to think i flirt with miller's idea of "engage to heal" pretty frequently as well.

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: i have fun with all my fics, or else they don't get written! i'm not good at making myself do things i don't want to do, especially if the only reason to be writing fic is to have fun in the first place. most difficult would probably be "birds in last year's nest" (the omega!max fic) because i really wanted to handle the issues in it well, while the easiest to get written was "out of the bag" (cat!furiosa) despite its length because it basically just wrote itself. my most popular is definitely "around the corner" (petshop au), which has a very dear place in my heart even if it's not the most polished of my fics. my favorite is usually whichever i've published most recently :)

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: hopeful above all, with a good balance of gritty and soft, depending on the particular fic. i like to explore the realistic effects of things, but i'm also happy to gloss over the tricky details in favor of fluff. i've only written one fic with an unhappy ending so far and i don't see myself adding to that number anytime soon, and i am just not great at humor so i avoid trying to be funny.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: my writing process is simple: i get an idea (usually i steal it), i bundle myself up in bed, and then i do other things while writing a sentence or two every few hours. sometimes i get into the groove and can bash out a few thousand words in a day, other times i flounder for weeks without anything holding my interest. when i do write i always work chronologically, which means finding the actual start of the fic can take a few tries, and figuring out the end can be difficult if i haven't really filled in the details in my head yet. for rough patches i put my head down and try to force words out, but if it doesn't want to happen i just let it go and move on, unless it's for a gift, or something like nanowrimo where i want those bragging rights. i don't use written outlines or keep notes of anything, which is a bad habit but one i can't shake. if it's not important enough for me to remember, how important was it really in the first place?

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: right now it's finding the motivation to write when i've got other stuff going on in my life, especially on days when i am tired out even on my days off. other than that- staying focused on a project long enough to get it finished! i also struggle with juggling multiple characters especially in the same scene, making sure that everyone gets their turn and sounds authentic.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: my writing, both in terms of technical skills and how i compose a story, has just improved leaps and bounds since i started writing fics, thanks in large part to the feedback i'm lucky enough to get, as well as the sheer volume i've been able to put out. i've definitely learned a lot about what kinds of ideas interest me to write, which is not necessarily the same things i want as a reader.

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: i probably relate to max the most, or at least the version of him that lives in my head- it's easy for me to get inside his pov, but that means i have to stop myself from making *every* fic his pov! furiosa is a close runner up in terms of how much i like writing her, which is lucky because she's the other 50% of my fics, but it's a lot harder for me to get inside her head, so i have to pay attention more to what i'm doing when i write her.

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: i probably do, but not intentionally. of course i use my own experiences and feelings when writing, but i always try to translate them to the mindset of whoever i am writing. it's just been drilled into my head too many times that writing yourself as a character is not what you are supposed to do, i think.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: max & furiosa, 100%. platonic, romantic, as soulmates, as enemies- i love every possible permutation of how they can interact with each other since they're so similar but still very distinct. i love how much of their relationship is unspoken but perfectly understood- or not, and how that can set up their interactions.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: i pay a hell of a lot more attention to what's happening in canon, and pick apart even minor gestures or bits of speech to really drill down into the character's heads. if i was just watching the movie(s) to enjoy them, i'd stay a lot more surface level instead of analyzing details like what the interior of the war rig says about furiosa, or what's in max's kit at the beginning of the movie vs the middle, etc.

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: nearly all of my works are unrelated. i love coming up with little tweaks that don't really effect anything but might contradict each other (which of the wives takes on what role post-canon, how long it takes before max comes back for the first time, etc), and writing in a single series would mean i'd have to address those differences. short fluff or pwp pieces where the entire fic is just a single scene tend to share enough similarities that you could imagine they take place in the same 'verse, but to be honest, that's just me being lazy ;b

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: canon is fake and the author is dead! that said, i do actually try and stick as close to the canon facts as possible unless it's something i'm deliberately changing, because after all without canon there wouldn't be any shared understanding of the characters that makes fanfic possible. this is one of the trickiest parts about writing an au, because i have to find the right balance of familiarity to canon with what's different about each au in order to have the changes i make to the characters/setting/etc make sense to the reader.

Q: Where do you get your ideas for your AUs?

A: all sorts of places! some of them are given to me- i love prompts- others i steal from other fandoms, like bodyswap or wings or turning furiosa into a cat, some i search out via idea generators, and at this point i honestly can't watch/read any new stories without going "but how can i turn this into an au??" i also like to say "what if" almost *constantly* and sometimes that leads to full fics, other times i just make a post on tumblr with some half-baked ideas of how it could work out. what if furiosa's mother didn't die before the movie? what if max had a pet dragon? what if it started raining and didn't stop? it's honestly harder for me to write a strictly canon fic at this point :)

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: i actually don't have a ton that apply to every fic, because i like switching things up- but here's some ones taken for granted in 99.99% of my canonverse fics: furiosa lives after the end of the movie without any major complications, max comes back to the citadel at some point, furiosa has her own room with not much more than a bed, a workbench, and a window, the war boys are willing to accept the wives as the new rulers (and that the wives form a council rather than a dictatorship), and somehow the bullet farm & gastown fall into line with the citadel's new way of thinking. also, max has a sweet tooth and furiosa doesn't remember most of her dreams.

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.? 

A: something i try to keep in mind at all times is: write for yourself and not your audience. does your heart of hearts want to ship those two characters? hell yeah make 'em kiss. have a scene that is super cliche or over the top but you can't stop thinking about? write it! your stories need to be interesting to you first and foremost, because a reader absolutely can sniff out the difference between a scene you thought would be "good" and one you had fun with. you can always edit later to shape your fic into a different direction if you feel like you need to.

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: i've been to wasteland weekend twice now and hope to visit many more times in the future! it's a super fun experience in general, and it's also helped me get a feel for what a mad max world would really be like, rather than just relying on my imagination. i'd love to visit australia some day, both for mad max and other reasons, but ideally not while there's an apocalypse going on.

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: *throws dart at gdocs* let's see.... i've got a fic started where furiosa is a viking, and after a raid gone wrong she ends up injured at max's farm where she has to learn the language and customs and come to terms with being his slave (until they fall in love, obviously). haven't worked on that one since july but hey, it's not going anywhere.

Thank you @v8roadworrier

[soaringsearingphoenix]

Snack themed ask: Oreos

I dont see oreos on the list that I reblogged (but feel free to send me another ask including the question that corresponds to oreos? I love answering asks!). For now I will make one up, as I am here to talk about myself and you dont have to ask me twice (but you can)

Maybe im just not noticing it for some reason. However, the other cookie prompts seem to be about what foods you like, so I shall craft one for oreos in the same thread, using these as examples.

Chips ahoy: favorite simple dish is pasta with cheese. Not mac n’ cheese (though i love that too) but like, rotini with cheddar shredded onto it. Im a fan of most starch/cheese combos tbh

Girl scout cookies: if you could only have 3 desserts for the rest of your life... mint chip ice cream, chocolate chip cookies, hmm... pumpkin pie. Lemon bars were neary my third, but i think i’m offered pumpkin pie more frequently so its a more pragmatic choice in terms of availability

Fig newtons: weirdest food you liked as a kid. Well one time in elementary school people were daring each other to eat gross food combinations and someone dared me to dip a goldfish cracker in yogurt so i did, and it was actually not terrible. Not GOOD mind you but not like, unpalatable. And my peers were horrified - disproportionately, i thought. But i also thought it was hilarious to get a mortified reaction out of people by doing something harmless (like picking up a worm or being able to bend my fingers back farther than normal) so i kept doing it. One girl was so grossed out she left and, i heard later, tried to call home sick. Anyways i didnt do it again but it stands out as probably the most unconventional thing I ate and liked.

Oreos (according to me): What is your favorite food to prepare?

Well maybe just ‘cause it’s on my mind but lately it’s been french onion soup. It’s multi-step but all the steps are simple, and the end product is so rewarding (and also it’s one of those fairly easy dishes that seems really impressive, precisely because of all the components.) I only got into it recently, listening to TAZ Amnesty podcast when the boys got distracted for like five minutes to just talk about soup. I craved it for days before I got some at the store, and it was another week before I fully realized how easily I could make some at home.

I also like it because it’s a dish you can customize a little bit. I like to caramelize the onions a little more than you’re technically supposed to in the recipes I consulted the first couple times I’ve made it (since then I’ve just been winging it). And I also like that, since you bake it in individual bowls ideally, it’s easy to customize per person, with more or less cheese/bread/broth depending on individual preferences - it’s a good meal for a group with slightly different tastes or dietary accomodations to consider.

Thanks for asking!!! Have a great day :D