perfect songbirds

cat-bat-batman  asked:

Writing prompt! A fight over girl scout cookies.

set in Jack’s senior year, sometime in the spring?, before he and Bitty are together; warning for homophobic jerks in the form of Lax Chads


Jack is trying to write his senior thesis – he has his bedroom door shut and locked and everything – when Shitty barges in.

That, in itself, isn’t all that suspicious because Shitty had taught himself how to pick locks at Andover and had always been pretty blatant about barging in. If Jack really needs his space, he’ll stay away but Shitty has pretty strong opinions on what constitutes as “really needing his space” and Jack’s “I am writing my thesis, Shits, don’t bother me” at breakfast had clearly been inefficient. Hell, it probably just spurred him on.

However, what is suspicious about this current situation is that Shitty is fully clothed. 

“Jaa-aack,” Shitty sing-songs. “You fucking majestic specimen of human perfection, you beautiful songbird on a crisp spring morn–”

“Shitty,” Jack says, refusing to look up from his laptop. “Whatever it is, the answer is no.”

“I don’t want anything!”

“You just called me a songbird.”

“You are a songbird. On a crisp, spring morning atop a rosebush full of the–”

“You are high.”

“As a kite, Jack, that’s why I need you.”

“I am not letting you stare at my ass again. Go bother Ransom. He’s been working out with Bitty.”

Honestly, sometimes Jack doesn’t even know what to do with the sentences he is forced to say on a semi-regular basis. 

“No, Jack, no- I need sustenance. I need… Lardo took her car and there is no way for me to get to Murder Stop and Shop without her but without food, I will die and you are the captain. You have to save me.”

“No,” Jack says. And turns back to his paper.

Ten minutes later, he’s in the car. 

Jack should have taken Samwell up on their offer to give him a single his freshmen year.

*^*^*^

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god– YES!” Shitty shouts as they pull into the parking lot. “THEY’RE HERE!”

“What? Who?” Jack says, though he’s not sure he wants to know. Shitty is coming down off the worst of his high but even a sober Shitty is prone to get excited over just about anything.

“THE GIRL SCOUTS!” The car hasn’t fully stopped when Shitty opens his door. “IT’S COOKIE SEASON!”

Keep reading

grey--sky--morning  asked:

a songbird like the Fleetwood Mac song 'Songbird'? (which is beautiful) or an actual song BIRD (perhaps a sparrow)? ♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

Bloom - The Paper Kites

I’m not at all sure where it comes from (I stole the idea from some posts I saw a long time ago) but either one works I guess! Maybe for this fic we can say its for the birds outside their bedroom window :)

AO3 & FFN

The first thing Emma notices when she wakes is how warm she is; how the cotton sheets tangled in her legs is sticking to her skin, how she can just feel the sweat pouring off of her and she’s pretty sure her hair is a frizzy and tangled mess. The second thing she notices is a warm hand on her breast and the soft sounds of her true love snoring softly beside her. She chuckles quietly to herself and opens her eyes, turning her head and smiling fondly at the sight in front of her.

He’s lying on his stomach, left arm folded underneath his pillow, his right is stretched across the small space between them so his aforementioned hand can reach her breast (she is sure that wasn’t an accident.) Killian’s face is half hidden by his pillow, his unfairly long eyelashes casting oddly attractive shadows across his cheek and his mouth open enough for her to feel every one of his exhales on her face as she carefully moves closer. She reaches out and gently combs her fingers through the few strands of dark hair that had fallen across his forehead.

Even in such a disheveled state this early in the morning in the middle of summer he is somehow still unbelievably handsome, not that she would ever admit that to him.

She moves her hand down the side of his face, fingertips ghosting over his adorably pointed ears and runs her thumb along the scar on his cheek. Not wanting to wake him, she pulls her hand back and just watches him. It’s not often she wakes before him so she wants to take advantage of this quiet moment to admire her true love and reflect on the past month since returning from the underworld.

It hasn’t been as peaceful as she would wish, knowing Storybrooke it will never be entirely peaceful, but it has been pretty close to perfect. Her family, mainly her father and Killian, came up with the rule that mornings are off limits for savioring, that the town can certainly wait a couple of hours for her to get some rest and have a good breakfast and well, she wasn’t about to fight them on that one. So every morning for the past month Emma has woken up with a smile on her face no matter how crazy the day before was (and they were usually pretty crazy.) She loves being able to start each day by spending a couple of hours with her two favorite guys.  

It’s not long before she notices Killian’s breathing change as he wakes and she watches as his eyebrows furrow.

“You’re staring” He mumbles into the pillow.

“You’re snoring”   

Killian opens his eyes and lifts his head at that, the creases on his face from the pillow contrasting so completely with the affronted look he gives her that she can’t help but burst into laughter, his protests that he doesn’t snore only cause her to laugh more until he silences her with his lips on hers. He removes his hand from her breast and wraps it in her hair while her arms go around his back, one hand grasping at his waist, the other at his shoulder to pull him closer. It isn’t long before he moves his leg over both of hers and straddles her as her hand dips below the hem of his sleep pants. She is just about to start slipping his pants over his hips when there’s a knock at the door.

“Mom? Killian? Are you guys awake yet? I’m hungry” Henry calls through the door. Killian groans and moves from above her and flops onto his back beside her, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

“Yep, we’ll be right down, why don’t you go pick out what you want to eat.” Emma calls while she sits up and adjusts her tank top from how it had been twisted with her and Killian’s movements.

“Okay!” Henry calls back. They listen to him as he goes barreling down the stairs.

“You would think the stampede from Jumanji was in our house with how much noise he makes.”

“I’ve no idea what a Jumanji is but stampede does sound right, love.” He brushes her hair off her shoulder and leaves a trail of kisses there. “We shall continue where we left off later, Henry is at Regina’s tonight and I’ve got some plans for us.” He smirks, places one last kiss on her lips and leaves the bed. He grabs a shirt from the dresser and throws it on before heading for the bedroom door. She watches as he turns and winks (unsuccessfully) before shutting the door behind him. She smiles as she sits there for a moment, contently listening to Killian and Henry talking in the kitchen. The rest of the day is sure to be chaotic and anything but peaceful, but the morning? The morning is pretty damn perfect.

Send me ‘songbird’ and I’ll put my music on shuffle and write you a fic based on that song