gia x emma

Shipping Meme; tagged by @tigresswraith.

Rules: List 5 OTP’s from 5 fandoms and tag 10 people to pass it on to.

I can only pick five, and from five different fandoms, and only one per fandom. You’re huvin a laff. Oh well here goes.

  1. Misffle (Missy x Clara) l Doctor Who
  2. Red Beauty (Ruby x Belle) | Once Upon a Time
  3. Black Hill (Maria x Natash) | Marvel
  4. Giemma (Gia x Emma) | Power Rangers
  5. Brittana (Brittany x Santana) | Glee

Now I tag: @sinfulpapillon, @sinfulmarinette, @evilqueenofgallifrey, @kiwi-kaleidoscope, @missolitude, @honhonhonlafayette, @madquinn13, @ididntwearmybowtie, @dawnofthedusk and @wolfdogonthemoon, because I want y’all to suffer by having to choose! Mwahaha!

Emma spots Gia coming up the hill’s incline by her bright yellow bag. Smoothing over the folded blanket in her arms, she smiles, fixing her bag strap more securely on her shoulder. Instead of hanging at their usual spot (Ernie’s), they decided to have a picnic on the hillside overlooking the city.

“Took you long enough.” she calls out.

Gia smiles, dipping her head. There’s a hint of frustration when she replies, “Not my fault one very persistent boy keeps wanting to hang out with me.”

“Ah, so what did you tell Jake?” Emma asks, amused.

“Before or after I kicked his butt for embarrassing himself?”

Emma rolls her eyes but smiles anyway. Jake could be a little forward sometimes.

Gia steps closer. She switches the picnic basket to her left hand while smoothing down her leather jacket with the other. “Well besides explaining that I couldn’t go to Ernie’s with him and Noah  later, I told him straight up that I’m not interested.”

“And you’re not, right?” Emma looks up at her. Gia smirks, holding her gaze.

“Nope because right now…”  Her hand trails up Emma’s arm to brush away the stray hair blowing into her face and Emma can feel her heart thump-thumping in her ears when Gia leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I’m with the only person I’m interested in.”

things the grass already knows

gia/emma | megaforce | 4k | rated t
summary: five + one - times emma wants to kiss her
read on: ao3

Emma’s never really been one for make-up. It’s not that she doesn’t like it, more that she has a routine and outside of that, she hasn’t got a clue. There’s a party, though, one that they’ve somehow all ended up invited to, and Gia had been so excited at the idea of them getting ready together that Emma hadn’t been able to say no. ‘Like normal girls!’ Gia had exclaimed, clapping her hands together, smile bright on her lips. Emma’s not sure she wants to be a normal girl.

The dress is almost unbearable, sequins and flared skirts outside of Emma’s comfort zone, but she has to admit, it looks good. The blush on her cheeks complements the muted pink of the fabric, the glitter on her eyelids catching the light. She almost doesn’t recognise herself.

“Good so far?” Gia asks, looking up from her rummaging to gauge Emma’s opinion. She nods, pleased when her approval makes Gia’s face split into a grin. “Great! Now for the lips!” There’s a flutter in Emma’s chest, a beat of butterflies in spring.

“What? There’s more?” Emma tries her best to sound outraged, but Gia just rolls her eyes and drags her back to the chair. “Is that a pencil?” she queries, eyeing Gia suspiciously, “why do you have a pencil?” This earns her another eye roll, complete with a long-suffering sigh. She tries not to smile.

“It’s a lip pencil, Emma. For your lips. Now stop talking or it’s going to end up on your nose.” Emma goes to open her mouth again, retort on the tip of her tongue, but Gia’s face is steeled in concentration and she forgets what she was going to say.

A single blonde curl has escaped from behind Gia’s ear, wavering as it hangs between them. She’s so close, too close, lips slightly parted, eyes focused on Emma’s mouth. Emma wants to lean forward, it wouldn’t be hard, there are only inches separating them. She wants to damn the make-up and this party to hell, slip off the cool yellow of Gia’s too-tight dress and feel her skin, warm under her fingers.

They’re ideas that flit into her head far too often, small touches like vines on a garden wall, creeping their way into Emma’s mind and clouding her judgement. She would never, could never. She wants to all the same.

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