#rosi could never shoot his brother but its funny to think about
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thinking about those cora lives aus but they never explain how he’s alive, so i always assume its this scenario
#havent posted in a bit hiiiiiii *waving aggressively#my art#fanart#digital art#sketch#one piece#one piece fanart#donquixote doflamingo#donquixote rosinante#one piece corazon#one piece doflamingo#trafalgar d water law#originally from ad/vent/ure time#its 4 over here sooo good night 🤠#rosi could never shoot his brother but its funny to think about#edit: this shit is so fuckigm embarassing to me now. i had a goddamn nightmare after drawing this#jeueysus. this shit fucking sucks im so sorry i subjugated you all to this
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𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼
chapter eighteen • a/n: last chapter folks- wanna thank all those who interacted/read it, I hope you enjoyed it! ♡ gonna miss these fools, ngl • wordcount: 2k • warnings: nothing but fluff. Parenthood. Babies. Kids.
summary
going through rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.
masterlist
His hands are warmer and maybe even bigger as his fingers are intertwined with yours, gently swaying back and forth, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand or a light squeeze to remind you he's still there.
a few steps ahead, rosie groans, huffs and puffs as she pushes the stroller the best she can. Talking to her little brother who gurgles back just as much.
"You're really heavy!"
a soft pink, round handbag with minnie mouse printed on the front hangs loosely in Steve's other hand. Handed to him seconds after leaving the restaurant by Rosie herself as she offered to push her little brother back home. A heavy diaper bag he'd taken off the stroller to take away some weight, hangs of his shoulder– you told him you could carry one of the two but Steve being Steve, refused your offer and instead clamped his hand in yours.
A day out planned by the man walking next to you. A day with the four of you, letting Rosie and JJ get used to Steve being around for more than the two hours every night before getting tucked in. That Steve wasn't just a friend anymore– though Rosie 'just knew' when you told her Steve was more than a friend, a special friend.
'I don't kiss my friends like that'
Rosie didn't mind, or at least you think. She was good with everyone, stranger or not. Opening up to Steve wasn't a problem, becoming friends with Steve came easy for the girl.
And bucky, bucky would always be dad.
'Now I have three daddies. My real daddy, my normal daddy and steve.'
And though you never intended to let Steve in your life so quickly, it became serious pretty fast.
Delicately glueing back each other's pieces left of a broken heart; giving solace, a shoulder to cry on and someone to hold. Steve and you never intended to become this, you were just friends, used-to-be-coworkers. It happened. Bucky no longer floating through your head every other minute or feeling that ache in your chest– just you and Steve and for now after the heartbreak Bucky caused you could in all honesty say that Steve Rogers treated you better than anyone ever did.
The stroller comes to a halt when Rosie stills in front of the apartment block. She let's go of the stroller and places both hands on her sides, bright yellow sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose, she sighs heavily.
"That was heavy."
You and Steve chuckle at Rosie her stance as if an old man admiring his self-built furniture, sarcasm dripping from her body yet as innocent as can be.
"I bet it was, kid."
"Yes, JJ eats too much."
"Says the girl who ate all my fries."
Letting go of your hand, Steve hands Rosie back her own bag which she happily takes– slipping the diaper bag from his shoulder, you wrap your hand around it and carefully toss it over your own. Hand digging in to find your keys. Taking the few steps up the building, you push open the door and watch how Steve casually carries the stroller and JJ up the steps and follows Rosie in the building.
The walk to the elevator is short, the three of you and the stroller packed tight in the small space– you stay quiet, watching the interaction between Rosie and Steve, your heart grows ten times its size. You thank the gods above for giving you all these amazing men in your life, even if they broke your heart in different ways- teaching you the ways of life, giving the best things to ever exist, trusting you, caring about you..loving you.
Riley, your first real love. The one that changed your life forever. Teaching the ropes of this crazy thing called adult life. Be the calm to your chaos. Showed you love like you'd never had before– sure enough about it all to put a ring around your finger and giving you the most important job of them all; be a mother to a beautiful, funny and feisty daughter. Riley who gave you real heartbreak, leaving an empty hole in your heart and took a piece of your soul with him
Sam who stood by your side through it all. Going through the process together of losing a spouse and partner on the field. Your shoulder to lean on when things got rough, a friend of your man turned into your best friend– showing you the meaning of family by letting you into his own.
Bucky who stole your heart so fast, you never had a chance to let it settle– a wild man willing to wait. A wild man who showed you that life after Riley could be something beautiful; taught you how to love again, brought you back to life and gave you the gift you call your son, gave Rosie a father figure. Bucky the best mistake you'd ever made in your life.
And maybe all these men were needed to get you with the one. Without Riley no Sam and without Sam no Bucky, and you'd never have met Steve if you didn't move to Brooklyn. All these men lead you to him.
Steve. The man who picked up the pieces and put them back together– the man you so desperately needed in your life. The calm that Riley once gave you and the wild and silly bucky once showed. The one for real this time.
Even if things didn't go your way, men changing every chapter of your book– life was pretty amazing.
Steve must've seen the slight wobble of your chin and your eyes filling with tears. His firm hand back into yours, you look up to meet his blues, you shoot him a tight lipped smile.
"Mommy, why are you crying?"
You inhale deeply, quickly wiping away the tears that have made their way down your cheeks and not trusting your own voice, you smile at your daughter but shrug.
"You know what I think?" Steve quips, the hand that's intertwined with yours now snaking around your waist to pull you ever closer into his side "I think mom's just really happy."
Rosie nods unsure but gives a toothy grin "then I'm happy too, then we're all happy."
"Then we're all happy."
He reads you like an open book, something you got to love and hate over the last few weeks. Nitpicking little flaws to get under your skin or be the biggest sap whenever you're feeling down; he knows you like the back of his hand.
"This is so stupid," you breath out a shaky chuckle "Jesus, I'm crying in an elevator–"
"It's not stupid," Steve reassures "we're all just very happy, right?"
"Yeah." You nod.
Squeezing your side, Steve let's you know he's there and plants a kiss to your temple before resting his chin upon your head.
"I love you, sweetheart."
Bucky can't quite believe it himself; just a month ago he labeled Steve Rogers as his arch enemy and wish bad things upon the blonde and now, now bucky hopes and wishes the blonde would treat you better than anyone else– welcomed Steve into the mess.
At ease, okay, alright but above all grateful. You didn't kick him out of your life or that of his kids– you wouldn't be the first mother to do such a thing, he's seen it on TV multiple times. Bucky's grateful that you and him still were a thing just not the same. Parents of your kids, friends.
Though jealousy would strike once in a while and he reminded himself of the mistake he'd made, It was good this way.
Big helium balloons in the shape of letters and numbers float above the table shoved against the wall, reading 'JJ 1 YEAR'. Silver birthday garlands hanging from ceilings along the baby blue and white balloons– table filled with snacks, gifts and drinks. Cramped in your apartment but done together– texting back and forth, nights of planning brought you all here, JJ his first birthday.
Friends and family here to celebrate something the two of you made from love.
Bucky leans against the kitchen bar, one hand tucked deep into the pocket of his jeans and the other wrapped around a bottle of beer. Eyes upon the small crowd gathered and lands on Steve, barely on his knees next to a side table, small plastic tiara on his head as Rosie applies makeup on the guy's face from the set she'd just got as a gift from uncle Sam.
Bucky smiles, at least you picked a child magnet, a guy who'll love his kids as much as the two of you do.
Bucky scans the crowd again and spots you without any problem, another smile on his face at the sight of his godchild hailey holding JJ, probably gossiping around with you.
It's good this way.
"Hey man."
Snapping out of his own world, Bucky meets the eyes of a man he hasn't spoken to in months; sam. Not since he got to learn about Bucky's mistake.
"Hey." Bucky shoots him a tight lipped smile.
Standing still next to Bucky, Sam leans against the bar in the same stance and follows Bucky's gaze to the crowd to you, his son and hailey.
"He looks like you." Sam confesses "scary."
Letting his head fall, Bucky chuckles and nods "at least we know it's mine."
Sam chuckles along till it dies down, silence falling over both men as they keep watching the scene in front of them. How you leave Hailey with her nephew and mingle with some friends– bucky can feel Sam's eyes burning on his face.
"Told you so, didn't I?"
Bucky snorts "Let's not go there, I've learned my lesson."
"Do you?" Sam quips with a grin on his face "No new love on the horizon?"
Bucky nods, he has learned his lesson and he knows he'll never find someone like you again– he has definitely learned his lesson and definitely not ready for something new.
"No man, I'm going to focus on my kids." Bucky breathes out a soft chuckle "apparently I still have two."
"Rosie loves you– I have to thank you for that, giving Rosie a father figure."
"Wouldn't trade it for anything else."
"I know."
Another, comfortable silence falls like a thick blanket. Knowing each other well enough to know what they're thinking– a smile creeping on both men's faces at the sight of you pushing yourself past some people and beelining towards the duo.
"Mind If I join?"
Scooting aside, both Sam and bucky make space for you in between and your arm that snakes around Bucky's back gives him a warm and fuzzy feeling– he pulls you closer into his side with his arm dropped over your shoulder
"A year ago you nearly passed out." You mumble softly
"I didn't pass out." Bucky scoffs
"I said nearly–"
"Not even nearly."
"The nurses had to sit you down."
"They never–"
"They did!"
It's a game of back and forth, getting underneath each other's skin and Bucky hopes things like this will never change even if you decided to spend the rest of your life with steve. The silly arguments, the silly fights and the lame jokes– bucky would be alright as long as that stayed.
The squeeze around his side makes Bucky aware you're still there. Locking eyes with yours, one's he's found himself lost in many times before, he copies your smile.
"What?"
"Nothing– we did good." You state.
Though things didn't go the way it was supposed to, the two of you did good indeed, more than good even.
"I think we did amazing." Bucky smiles back.
Wrapping his arm around your shoulder a bit tighter, he places a quick kiss on your forehead before following your gaze into the crowd, his daughter, his son, his family and steve.
It's good this way.
"So, guys," Sam clears his throat from beside you "really gotta know what happened on hailey her birthday party that day."
"No, you don't." You and Bucky chuckle in unison "you really don't."
Taglist: @farfromshawn @Nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge @okiegirl24 @0moondoodler0 @why-wait-4-eventually @abzidabzy
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#rosie and i*
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Oliver Wood - Shoot My Shot
Summary: You and Oliver Wood have been enemies since your first Quidditch game during your second year. You, being a Slytherin makes it far harder to find a liking to the Gryffindor boy, yet somehow you managed to do so. While playing a Quidditch match of Slytherin against Gryffindor, you decided to shoot your shot, literally and figuratively.
Words: 2,522 words
Warning ⚠ : Cheesy, Fluff, Only the Good Stuff, The Sexual Tension Is Real™
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"Oi, Wood!" You shouted as you looked up. The Slytherin Quidditch Team had just arrived to the field to have a few hours of practice for an upcoming match against Gryffindor. As if they have been summoned, the Gryffindor Team had just finished their practice. Oliver Wood, the captain slash Keeper for the team looked down to see you, and snickered, “Y/L/N!”
As he flew down, he smirked at you and your team, “What’s the occasion here, lads?” You scoffed, glaring at him, “What do you think, Wood? Doing a theater play?”
He laughed, “Now, why so tense, Y/L/N? Did someone put Puking Pastilles inside your drink?” You rolled your eyes as you folded your arms, “No, but I do remember a pair of redheads sneaking Dungbombs under my bed a couple of days ago. Any idea who they are, Wood?”
As if on cue, the Weasley twins came swooping down laughing hysterically, Oliver was obviously trying to hide a laugh by hiding his lips, “N-nope, no idea, sorry.”
Oh, he definitely knew.
“Funny.” You sneered, when suddenly a certain small body flying around caught your attention. “Is that...?” You trailed off, squinting to look better. Oliver followed your eyes and shrugged, “Harry Potter? Yeah.”
You gave him a look, and he understood it completely, sighing, “I know the chiseler’s a first year but McGonagall wanted him to be a Seeker. Can’t say no now, can I?”
You shrugged back, “No matter, we’ll simply beat your arses this time at the match.” You smirked, and Oliver mirrored your expression with a scoff. “Oh yeah?” He walked closer, almost looked like he was about to kiss you.
You had a silent staring match, his eyes on you and vice versa. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d say you two were lovebirds. With a soft smirk on his lips, he inched closer to you, his nose slightly grazing your cheek.
“We’ll see about that, Y/L/N.” He whispered closely to your ear, the breeze of his breath hit your ear softly. He inched away and gave you a wink, a playful one as he walked away with the rest of his team.
You huffed in annoyance, seeing his obnoxiously fit body slowly disappearing into the ring. You won’t ever admit to anyone, not even a single soul, at how he had you so bothered.
In a good way.
You turned around to your team who witnessed the whole thing, some of them playfully smirking at you. You sneered in disgust, “What are you idiots looking at? And what the bloody hell are you waiting for? Practice!” At your command, your teammates fleeted away on their brooms to their designated places, leaving you alone on the ground.
You took a few deep breaths trying to calm your heart down, but with bloody Oliver Wood out there simply existing, you found your heart picking up its pace. You groaned in annoyance at the flustered heartbeat, yet you couldn’t sneak away the small shy smile your lips had etched on.
After practice, you returned to the Slytherin common room. You were exhausted, everything was a mess. As a beater, you used the nerve-wrecking excitement Oliver Wood caused you to have earlier for the better, by beating the Bludger as hard as you can.
One of the reasons you love Quidditch, it allows you to express your anger and frustrations, and sometimes excitement, through something else without hurting anyone else, well, involuntarily.
UGH.
The Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor will be held in two days, you have no time to fawn over Oliver Wood, no matter how handsome, or witty, or funny, or-
You slapped yourself with a nearby pillow, physically shooing away those unholy thoughts. ‘You’re the bloody captain, for Merlin’s sake! You can’t be thirsting over the captain of the opposing team!’ Your mind shouted.
Yeah, as if you didn’t know that already.
Suddenly, someone tapped you on the shoulder. You looked up from the dark green pillow to see a little boy with metallic blonde slicked back hair.
You sighed, “If you’re here to be a part of the Quidditch team, then you know my answer-” “But if Potter can join in first-year, then I can too!” Draco Malfoy retaliated.
“Yeah, but Potter is a Gryffindor whose teacher is Minerva McGonagall, Draco. You really think Mr. Severus Snape would allow a first year to join Quidditch?” You asked him back in a tired tone. This wasn't the first time Draco had asked you to join the Quidditch team as soon as he found out Harry joined. And seems like it’s not going to be the last either. You saw his eyes darted away for a few moment to think, then he reverted them back to you sadly, “But Y/N...”
You felt pity for the boy, sometimes you felt like he feels inclined to beat Potter in everything he does. And being his older cousin doesn’t help, because you knew how severe Uncle Lucius can get around the little boy. If it weren’t for your parents, you would’ve taken Draco under your wings as your little brother already.
“Look, Draco...” You sighed, trying your best to be understanding towards the boy, even if he gets on your nerve sometimes. “My answer is still no, but you can join in next year if you want it that terribly. Terrence Higgs is graduating and won’t be here next year, so there would be an empty spot for a Seeker. The best I can do is save you a spot.” You offered. He sighed, and grumbled a ‘fine’.
“But if I don’t get it next year, my father will hear about this!” “Your father is my uncle, Draco. The one telling him first would be me, do you understand?” You voiced out sternly, Draco cowered immediately at your dominance. “Yes, Y/N.” He said quietly.
“Now run along, Draco. Your friends are waiting.” you softened your voice to him. He left, and you sighed. Sometimes, you needed to be stern to that boy, or else he’s going to treat everyone like his minions. 11 years old and already sound as snobbish as his father, sigh.
The next day, Slytherin and Gryffindor shared a classroom for Transfiguration class by Professor McGonagall. Unfortunately, she made everyone sit with the opposite house. And guess where she placed you?
“What’s with the long face, Y/L/N?” Oliver snickered as you moved to sit beside him. You gave him a sickly sweet smile, before frowning again, “Neither of us want to be here, so shut it.” You muttered.
“Oh no, darling, I want to be here. The one who doesn’t is you.” He chuckled as he supported his head with his arm, turning himself completely towards you. You grimaced, in spite of the increased heartbeat over the nickname, “Is this how you flirt, Wood? It’s so pathetic.”
Oliver smirked and leaned to you ridiculously close, “Oh yeah? Then why are you blushing?”
?????!!!!!!!!
You scoffed in surprise, the audacity of this lad made you speechless. And then you felt it. The heat rushing up your cheeks, making it glow red. The blush in your cheeks just widened his smirk, “If I’m being correct here, Y/N Y/L/N, you look like you like me.” He whispered and bit his bottom lip.
You rolled your eyes at his attempt of embarrassing you more. Despite your heartbeat going crazy, you won’t let him cod you. So you leaned closer, Oliver was obviously surprised and stunned, your noses were almost rather touching each other, as you whispered, “And so, what if I do? What do you do then, Oliver?”
You had never called him Oliver. You both knew that.
“Mr Wood and Ms Y/L/N,” McGonagall’s voice made you both flinch away rather quickly. “I would really appreciate if you could continue your love drama somewhere else and focus on my class, thank you.”
“Sorry, Ma’am.” You heard Oliver mutter, as he glanced at you with rosy cheeks. You couldn’t dare to spare him another glance throughout the whole class.
What the bloody hell was that?
Next day came like a pop, and you were getting ready to throw everything in to the match. The last Gryffindor vs Slytherin match, you had won. And you were definitely certain to repeat that once again. After putting on your uniforms and safety gear, you went outside to the pitch. The whole school was there cheering you on. The jitters from before had flown out of the window, the adrenaline was now kicking in. You flew on your broomstick to the air, all of your other teammates were already there, the other Beater in your team nodded at you, and you nod back.
Looking to your front, Fred and George Weasley smirking nastily at you.Those two were as violent as a bloody honey badger when it comes to Quidditch, you groaned as you imagined the pain those rascals will be giving you soon. At the far back of the Gryffindor Team, was Oliver Wood, already at his post, the middle goal. As he caught your eyesight, he winked and mouthed, "Good luck." You smirked at him and just motioned your thumb across your neck, causing him to scoff.
The whistle started, the Bludger was released, the cheers erupted, and the game has begun.
You flew everywhere to keep the Bludger off of your teammates as your Chasers tried to goal some scores. A Gryffindor, Lee Jordan was the commentator of the day, and you could hear his shouts and comments on your every move. Knowing how distracting that could be, you tried your best to block his voice and focus on the game. With the bat in your hand, you swung the Bludger with it with full force to one of the Gryffindor Chasers, but they were saved by the twins.
Once in a while, you would glance at Oliver, watching him catching every single quaffle and toss it back out to the field, successfully protecting his goal. You always knew Oliver Wood is a great Keeper, but Merlin, he sure did shine that day.
The game continued until the second half, time out. You flew down and drank a hella lot of water and cast a pain relief charm on your left arm. One of the Weasleys had Bludgered your arm pretty nastily, and you weren't too keen to find out whether it's broken or not. After muttering "Lenio," to the rest of your body, you flew back out. The score currently was 20 to 30, Gryffindor was leading.
Either your Seeker gets the Snitch, or your Chasers score another 2 goals to win this match.
Suddenly, you got an idea. It's a pretty terrible idea, but an idea nonetheless. What if you distract Oliver Wood so your team can shoot goals? 'That's a stupid idea, Y/N.' Your heart voiced out, but hey, either go big or go home.
So you went on with your plan once the whistle started. As you Bludgered one of the twins (consider it karma), you flew close to Oliver, who eyed you curiously. "Decided to visit me in the middle of the game, Y/L/N?" He said loudly, the cheering made it harder to converse.
"If I win this match," you said loudly, sort of multi-tasking as one of the Weasleys tried to Bludger you again as you beat the Bludger off with your bat. Oliver faced you, waiting for you to go on.
"If you win this match...?" "If I win this match, you owe me a date to Hogsmeade!"
Oliver had his eyes widened, "A what?" He managed to say before swerving another quaffle out of his goalpost. Your teammates were now eye-ing you in confusion, what the bloody hell are you doing there at Gryffindor's goalpost rather than protecting your teammates?!
"A date!" You shouted. For a second, Oliver was in a blur and then cracked up a big smile, "And if you lose?" he remarked. You rolled your eyes, the small grin your lips widened significantly, "If I lose, then it's your choice!"
After that you went back to your original position, ignoring the glares of your teammates. The game went on until Harry Potter had caught the Snitch, spitting it out from his mouth.
Gryffindor won.
As disappointed as you were that you lost, you were more disappointed over the fact that Oliver now owes you nothing.
... Maybe your plan wasn't to distract him all along.
After the match had finished, you found yourself at the hospital wing, tending to your broken arm. Madam Pomfrey had said if it weren't for the pain relief charm, you wouldn't even be able to hold a broomstick mid-air without immense pain. The Weasleys were beside you seemingly injured as well, and you shook their hands professionally before they left.
It's just a game. Good sportsmanship is far better than continuous winning streaks.
"Y/N." You looked up to see Oliver, standing near your hospital bed. You groaned in embarrassment, "You owe me nothing, Wood. Now go away." "Yeah, about that," Oliver was fiddling with his sleeves, his broomstick was placed between his armpit and arm. Oliver Wood looked... Nervous?
"You said before that if you lose, then I get to decide, right?" He said, furrowing his eyebrows at you, licking his lips. You slowly nodded, already thinking of possible things he'd want you to do.
Oh no, does he want you to run around the hallway naked? Or does he want you to cast 'Riddikulus' to Snape? Or does he want you to be the Bludger puppet for the twins for a week? Or-
"You owe me a date to Hogsmeade."
W...what?
You were now a blushing mess. Both of you. "B-but I thought you hated me?" you asked, the heartbeat of yours was really close to a rhythm of a heavy rain. Oliver widened his eyes in shock, denying that thoroughly, "No, I don't! I actually... like you since the second year. You know, after the match?"
You remembered your first Quidditch match in your second year, that was the first time you ever laid eyes on Oliver. Both of you had broken an arm and a leg, and your beds were side by side. For 2 days, you had talked to each other like friends, but as soon as your senior came by and visited you, he prohibited you to talk to a filthy Gryffindor. Being brainwashed since young, both of you hated each other.
Well, at least you thought so.
"So... What do you say?" He asked, looking rather nervous again. You were speechless, your lips were suddenly dry, you were suddenly conscious of how you looked like at the moment. "Wait, so all those times, like at McGonagall's class and at the field, you really were flirting?"
He grimaced in cringe, rubbing his neck and looking away, "I guess you were right about my flirting being pathetic." He laughed shyly. That made you laugh, it made you break out from that awkward phase you had just now. "But you were right, though?" You teased, tilting your head to him playfully, smiling genuinely to the boy.
"I do like you."
COMPLETE!
#oliver wood x reader#oliver wood#oliverwood#harry potter imagines#draco malfoy#weasley twins#hogwarts#quidditch
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Jersey Love (Part 1): The Durrell Challenge
Authors Note: Hi guys, this is a fanfic I have been working on recently, there will be more parts to it but its called Jersey Love. I hope you all like it, I wasn’t sure whether to post it as it long (6K words) but i hope those who do read it like it. Love you all so much and I am so thankful for everyone’s support.
Sorry if there any typos or grammar mistakes, think I’ve read it a thousands times over but I have still probably missed some - L
Tag list : @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 @henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 @pixie1484 @constip8merm8 @tigerbroadwaybaby @agniavateira @summersong69 (if you want to be added to my tag list, please message me)
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The Durrell Challenge
It was another beautiful day in London , the hot sun was beaming down, melting away the morning dew. You were currently on your morning run, the fresh air was crisp against your cheeks, the music playing in your ears was set to a low volume so you could still hear the birds chirping peacefully in the trees. You were truly happy that this was your life. You were nearing the end of your route, drawing closer to Henry's house when you started to think about your relationship with him. Your relationship with Henry always made you chuckle, there wasn't anything particularly funny about it but you always found yourself laughing because you couldn't believe he was your boyfriend. The both of you had met in Henry's hometown during the Durrell Challenge, you had came first with the quickest time and Henry had come over to congratulate you, you were talking to a friend when he came over and he stood next to you awkwardly for a few minutes because he didn't want to interrupt your conversation. Your friend left a couple minutes later and you turned to him and smiled widely.
You remember thinking he was really attractive, recognising him instantly, not that you allowed him to know that.
You had asked him "did you enjoy the run?" before he even got the chance to congratulate you on your time.
"I really did yeah. Congratulations by the way, I'm Henry" he said, smiling down at you, placing his hand in yours and shaking
"Oh thanks I'm Yn. Haha. Do you do this every year then?" you said, making his eyebrows furrow slightly, he was kind of surprised you didn't know who he was. Not in a cocky way, but this was his hometown and practically everyone knew him here, they were all so friendly and didn't treat him any different from how they treated everyone else, it was the biggest reason he loved coming home so much.
"I do, you?" he said casually. There was something quite nice and comforting about how casual it was, he felt like an ordinary guy meeting an ordinary girl for the first time, it was nice.
"No actually, this is my first time , my mum and her partner retired here, so decided to take part. Raising money for the amazing cause" you said, smiling up at him, the sun began to get in your eyes so you moved slightly, so you were standing in the shade.
"Promise I'm not trying to get away from you, it's just the sun is in my eyes" you said, making him giggle as you nearly tripped when you moved backwards.
"It truly is an amazing cause, I have to say, I'm impressed" he said, making you pull a puzzled look up at him.
"How so?" you said, making him move closer to you.
"Your first run and you not only came first but I heard you raised the most money?" he said, making you chuckle and smile widely up at him. That smile, he thought, everything about you was drawing him in closer and he was so taken back by it all, he does this run every year and never has anything like this happened before, he hadn't expected anything else this year.
"I may have" you said, making him smile again.
"How did you do it?" he said. Someone tried to move past you but you were too focused on Henry that you didn't realise, making him place his hand on your shoulder to gently move you out of the way so the person could get past.
"Oh sorry" you said, to the person who walked past you, you looked back up at Henry who still had his hand on your shoulder "thanks. I'm probably the most oblivious person you'll ever meet" you said making the both of you laugh, somehow you lost your balance making you wobble slightly and making Henry grab your waist to steady you.
"And the clumsiest by the looks of it" he said making you blush and laugh as you were embarrassed.
"Oh lord, you have no idea" you said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ears. Henry looked at your blushed cheeks and smiled to himself, he thought it was sweet, again he doesn't mean to sound cocky but he's used to blushing women around him but when you blushed it sparked something inside of him, he wanted to be the one the tuck the hair behind your ear, he wanted to place a kiss to your rosy cheeks.
"uhh anyway, what was I saying? Umm oh yeah, how did you raise so much money?" he said, suddenly turning into a stuttering mess.
"Okay... I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone" you said jokingly making him giggle. What the hell? He thought, when have I ever giggled?
"Promise not to tell" he said holding his pinky finger up, you then realised he wanted to make a pinky promise so you linked yours with his. That's cute you thought. Henry coughed and crossed his arms over one another thinking about how awkward he was being, seriously Henry who still does pinky promises? He thought to himself, mental hitting himself.
You however were just focusing on how somehow his arms looked bigger when he did that.
"I'm a famous movie star" you said, raising your eyebrows up at him, making him cough awkwardly. He didn't say anything for a few seconds making you throw your head back with another chuckle, you hit his chest lightly.
"I'm joking Henry. I'm on the conservation team here at Durrell, joined early last year " you said making him smile.
"And you know how I am" he said, making you place your hand on his forearm, sparks igniting there for the both of you.
"Hate to break it to you, but I think everyone here knows who you are. In fact they're all staring at us right now" you said, looking around which made Henry look around too.
"But you're so... Normal" he said making you chuckle again.
"Sorry about that. Would you rather me gawk from afar, come over and be a rambling mess and then just drool over you?" you said, you were looking up at him in the simplest way, yet it made Henry's stomach flip, your eyes twinkled as you saw Henry's lip turn up into a smirk.
"Have a feeling that's not your style" he said with a flirty tone.
"Ah, but I have a feeling it's what you're used to" you remarked back. Quick comeback he thought to himself, he liked you.
"It's refreshing honestly" he said making you roll your eyes at him, oh how he wanted to see you do that over and over, and maybe one day he'd be able to punish you for it.
"Oh I just love being called refreshing. Such a compliment, thank you Henry, I think I'm in love with you" you said, jokingly, yet his stomach did a flip again. You were cheeky and he liked that, you weren't afraid to say too much.
"Ah Henry, I see you've met our little star" one of the male race organisers who Henry recognised, his name tag read "James" said as he came over to the both of you, he placed a hand on your shoulder. Henry felt jealous for some reason, was this your boyfriend? He'd feel bad for flirting with you if it was, although he thought you were flirting back, maybe that was just your personality though, he thought. Were the two of you flirting? he then began assessing the conversation the both of you had just had, trying to work out whether you were being flirty or just nice.
"I was just congratulating her. First place for her time and the amount of money she has raised" Henry said, making him smile, his hand was still on your shoulder and oh how Henry wished he would move it.
"Ah, actually you donated the most money Henry but I guess that doesn't count does it haha" James said, making you look at him weirdly, almost giving him a warning look. The man looked at you and then back at Henry before he said "we're very thankful for all that you do here Henry. I'll leave you to it" he said walking off. You were thankful he had left and so was Henry to be honest.
"Sorry about him, that was a bit rude" you said, rubbing your eyebrow awkwardly.
"It's okay. Is he your boyfriend?" Henry said, making your head shoot up to look at him.
"James? No, no no no no" you said shaking your head repeatedly.
"Sorry that was inappropriate." he said, shaking his own head.
"It's okay." you said. You were then being called to collect a medal so Henry frowned slightly.
"Um I'm sorry I have to go, it was really nice meeting you Henry" you said, beginning to walk off. Henry looked at the ground and ran a hand through his curls. Should've asked for her number you idiot, he thought. He felt a small hand in his and he looked up and saw you standing there again.
"Take this" you said, removing your hand and walking away again, in his clasp was a piece of paper with your number written on it , he smiled to himself and put it in his pocket, walking over to his brothers again who he ran with.
"Hello again stranger" his brother said, patting him on the back.
"Hey" he said, falling into a conversation with his brothers again.
A little while later Henry was called to talk to some of the staff members at Durrell who wanted to thank him for all of his hard work and thank him for being an amazing ambassador. You were standing amongst your colleagues, laughing about something when he walked up to you.
"Could I borrow you for a second please?" he said, making your best friend and colleague raise her eyebrows up at you.
"Of course" you said, saying goodbye to your colleagues making them call out “congratulations” to you as you left with Henry.
"What's up?" you said, continuing to walk somewhere with Henry.
"I know we've just met but I really enjoyed talking to you and I want to get to know you more. Would you want to go out later?" he said, the both of you slowly coming to a stop a while away from everyone else. Before you got to answer Henry started rambling" can understand if you don't want to, you're probably really busy with stuff and don't have the time for a relationship, let alone one with me and probably don't want what comes with me... " he continued making you lean up and place a peck to his cheek, shutting him up.
"For a famous superstar you really aren't very smooth" you joked, making him sigh deeply and smile.
"I swear I'm not usually like this, you make me nervous" he said, closing his eyes and breathing in heavily after he said it because there he goes blurting something stupid out again.
"Hmm. You can prove that to me later then" you said, lightly nudging him.
"Really?" he said, bashfully, seriously what's wrong with him today.
"It would be an honor" you said, your friend ran over to you and you sighed, you really couldn't catch a break today.
"Yn we need you" she said laughing about something, beginning to pull you away. "text me" you mouthed as you were being pulled away.
Henry texted you later that day and you both decided to go for a walk along the beach together, you met just as the sun was setting, the sky was a beautiful mixture of pink, blue and purple and the sea was gently kissing the shore.
You met at a small ice cream hut which was closed, you were wearing a white summer dress and a thin pink cardigan over the top.
Henry was wearing a pair of black jeans, a white shirt and a blazer. He walked up to you and you smiled up at him, he leant down and placed a sweet kiss to your cheek.
"Hi" he said, his hand resting on your waist.
"Hi. What's in the basket?" you said referring to what was in his hand.
"It's a surprise," he said, confidently taking your hand and beginning to walk down to the shore. You liked his new found confidence and you smiled to yourself, his hand felt huge wrapped around yours and it warmed your hand up instantly, it was tingling so much you swear he would've felt it. You walked in silence for a little bit, stopping about 50 yards from the shore line. Henry's hand dropped yours lightly, placing the basket on the floor, pulling out a blanket from it and placing it on the floor. He gestured to the blanket and said "my lady" which made you giggle, you sat down and he followed suit.
"You look beautiful," he said, making you blush.
"Oh stop" you said, looking away for a second as you were now very aware of him looking at you.
"You do." he said.
"Thank you, you look very handsome yourself" you said.
"What? this? Oh it's nothing" he said jokingly making you giggle.
"That's cute." he said, referring to your giggle, making you blush again.
"You're making me all shy" you said, looking down which made a piece of hair fall in front of your eyes, Henry's fingers came up to your face, grazing your cheek as he tucked it behind your ear. Before leaning back on his palms.
"Tell me more about yourself" he said, grabbing some wine and some glasses, pouring you a glass as he spoke, you loved the change in his attitude, earlier he was this rambling mess and now he was this confident and well put together guy who tucked your hair behind your ear and then acted like nothing had happened.
"Umm, what do you want to know?" you said, turning your whole body to face him as you took a glass from him taking a sip of the delicious wine.
"Everything. How did you come to work at Durrell?" he said with that same level of confidence.
"I've worked in conservation for 9 years now, I used to travel all across the world working on different conservation projects. I absolutely loved it and I started to get a name for myself. But something was always missing. I guess I just wanted consistency, I wanted somewhere I could call home. When my mum moved here she heard of this job at Durrell and she told me and it sounded ideal. It was quite a big role on the conservation team so I thought I wouldn't get it but I applied anyway and got the job and I've now been working there for a year now and it's amazing" you said, Henry listened carefully to every single word you said and you loved it.
"That's amazing. So what is it you do exactly?" he said, he moved so he was no longer leaning back on his palms but so one hand resting on his lap and one hand resting on your knee.
You smiled down at his hand on your knee before saying "So my official title is, Director of Conservation Science. I manage the Trust’s scientific research programmes to support Durrell’s conservation mission. But I also carry out keeper duties 3 times a week, its not usually what someone does in my position but I asked and they agreed. I love working with animals and you don't really get to do that in my position, it's mainly just research” you said, making him smile widely.
"That's so cool, it's good you're doing something you're really passionate about" he said, his hand began to massage your knee lightly making you sigh happily.
"Well from what I hear you're pretty passionate about it too?" you said, your own hand coming to rest over his on your knee.
"I am yeah, Durrell has always been a huge part of my life, it was a place I always visited when I was growing up. So when I started acting and got into the public eye I wanted to make a change and I wanted to use my position to help" he said.
"And you really are making a massive difference Henry" you said, squeezing his hand.
"Tell me about your family" he said, his hand caressing your hand as he spoke.
"I have 3 brothers and I'm the youngest and the only girl which made for an interesting childhood. My mum and dad got divorce when I was around 4. And then my mum found her partner when I was about 21 and they've been together ever since. My dad remarried 2 years ago now and he lives in London with my stepmum" you said smiling at him. "what about you?"
"Well I grew up here, although you knew that. I have 4 brothers and I'm the second youngest so that too made from an interesting childhood" he said making the both of you chuckle. "I went to boarding school, Stow School , you might have heard of it? That was interesting too, I left a year early though as I got a role in the Count of Monte Cristo in 2002 and I've been acting ever since” he spoke with an aura of confidence and pride and it made you smile so much your cheeks ached. You nodded along, listening to every word.
“That sounds amazing”
"Wow, it's so beautiful" you said, looking out to the sea and sky a second later.
"It really is" Henry replied, little did you know he was looking at you.
"Do you enjoy being back home?" you said, making him nod at you.
"Yeah I really do. I don't get to do it all that often anymore, usually just for the challenge and then for Christmas. I love it here" he said making you smile and say "me too, it's wonderful"
"I see the way people treat you here, it must be nice" you say.
"Yeah. I mean don't get me wrong, I love my fans and I love meeting them. I love the life I have because of them and I love talking about my job. But here... I'm just Henry. That's why I like you so much, it just feels right, feels like I'm just an ordinary guy who met a girl he likes in an ordinary way. There's no pressure, I don't feel like I have to be Henry Cavill the movie star" he said.
"I'm glad" you said, bringing his hand up to your lips and placing a kiss against it. It made him look at you, really look at you, his eyes staring into yours and he lent closer, closing the gap between you, his hand coming to cradle your face as he placed his lips against yours. The both of your lips stayed against each other for a few seconds before he pulled away briefly, leaning in to mold them together again. Sparks flew between you, and your hand came to gently grasp his chin, pulling him in further against you before you both pulled away, smiling widely.
"Wow. That makes a change from earlier" you said, making him chuckle, and wrap his arms around you, laying the both of you down on the blanket, the both of you looked up into the sky, your head on his arm.
You both then spent some more time getting to know each other, you found out the others favourite colour, food, book, film, tv show, anything and everything you could talk about you did. By the end of the conversation you felt like you really knew Henry, not the famous Henry but the real Henry.
"Can I tell you something?" you said, your hands were playing with each other against Henry's stomach when you felt him nod against you, you turned over slightly so your head was against his arm but so you could see him.
"I was really trying to seem cool earlier but I was going crazy" you said, making him chuckle.
"And there I was thinking you didn't know who I was." he said, bringing your hand up to his lips like you did earlier.
"I just wanted you to feel comfortable but I was seriously freaking out inside. Everyone had told me so much about you and you seemed like this really nice guy. I wasn't even going to come up to you because I didn't want to freak you out or whatever. As you said, this is your home and everyone treats you like just Henry so I did the same when you came up to me"
"I really appreciate that. I was kind of shocked though, I think that's why I was such a mess, you were so cool and calm and I was just like wow who is this wonderful girl" he said, moving so he was leaning over you slightly, beginning to play with your hair.
"Does it change anything?" you said making him smirk at you.
"not at all, unless you're some stalker, you're not a stalker are you?" he said jokingly.
"No I'm not a stalker Henry. I just know where you live, your shoe size, what car you drive" you said jokingly getting interrupted by him tickling you.
"Henry" you laughing, wriggling against him "stop" you said, pushing his chest roughly, so he was lying down and your were over him, his legs opened slightly, allowing you to slide in between his legs, your arms coming to rest against his chest with your head placed on them, he began playing with your hair again making you close your eyes.
"Please stroke my ego just a little bit by assuring me that you have at least watched some of my films" he said, making you open your eyes.
"I have. And you were amazing" you said.
"Wow okay stalker" he said, making you nudge him in the stomach, making him let out a laugh mixed with a grunt. You pressed your lips firmly against his, his smile soon dropping so he could properly mold your lips together.
“When do you go back to London?” you said after pulling away from the kiss.
“Tomorrow” he said, making you frown.
“Looking forward to it?” you said, making him sigh, his forehead rested against yours and he placed two sweet kisses to your lips.
“I didn’t think this was going to happen. I don’t want to go home now” he said, making you chuckle, you both sat up, his arm still cradling you against his side.
“I didn’t think so either. But it's okay, sometimes you meet people who are supposed to be there for just a really fantastic day, maybe that's what this is. Doesn’t change how amazing it is” you said making him nod.
“That’s the thing, I think it’s more than that, I sure as hell want it to be” he said, making you smile.
“All we can do is wait and see I guess, we had one amazing date Henry. But you’re going back to London tomorrow and I’m staying here” you said, making him place a kiss against your forehead.
“If it's meant to be it will be, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck” he said making you smile at him and share one last memorable kiss.
The next time you saw each other was the first week of November, Henry had finished the filming of the first season of the Witcher and came home for a break. It was coming up to your birthday and your friends had been planning something to celebrate it, you weren't quite sure what they had planned but were happy nonetheless. You had heard Henry was back home but hadn't yet had the chance to see him because you were so busy with work, you were truly working your arse off and you found yourself becoming very tired. Today was a particularly long day, you came in early to lend a hand on the keeper duties and then had a full day of meetings alongside the conservation staff. You arrived home at 8pm which was quite a bit later than the usual time. Your friends had invited you to the annual pub quiz so you got ready as soon as you got home, showering and getting dressed. You had your hair in a bun all day so when you let it down it had nice curls in it, you brushed it through with your fingers to calm the curls just a little bit so it didn't look too crazy. You put on some black skinny jeans and a lace bodysuit and a black blazer.
You and your friends didn't have much spare time to go out so you made it a tradition to dress up for the annual quiz night. Lucky most of the locals at the pub knew all of you and understood why you did it. You weren't a fan of foundation or heavy makeup so instead applied some bb cream, some light contour to add some dimension to your face and some highlighting drops to accentuate your cheekbones which you loved, some light eyeshadow to your eyes and some mascara and then applied your favourite perfume. You picked up a clutch purse and put the essentials in it before heading out the door to the pub.
Your friends were dressed to the nines and you complimented them when you saw them. These were the people you worked with who were similar, if not the same age you were and you all got along very well.
"The boys are late as usual so let's just go in" your friend Emily said, nudging all 3 of you inside. You sat at your usual table, your friend Amy going to get a round for the three of you. One of the locals came up to you making some friendly chit chat. You and your friends got chatting when Amy came back and eventually you landed on the conversation of Henry.
"So Henry is back, saw him at the supermarket today, he asked about you" your friend Amy said, raising her eyebrows up at you.
"He did not" you laughed making Amy say "I swear it, he came over and said he recognised me from Durrel, asked if I was your friend...I invited him to your birthday bash" she said making Emily laugh.
"Are you crazy? I haven't seen him in months, it will be so awkward for him" you said, as you saw your guy friends come in (there were 3 of them in total). They quickly came to sit at your table giving out hugs and kisses.
"What's going to be awkward?" your friend Liam said, giving you a kiss on the cheek, his hand holding his boyfriend James'.
"The fact that Amy invited Henry to my birthday celebration" you said, taking a sip from your drink.
"Your birthday bash" Amy said, making everyone laugh.
"No one agreed to call it that" your friend Lewis said, making everyone laugh again.
"If you think that's awkward you should probably know that Henry and his brothers do this quiz every year" James said, making you choke on your drink.
"What?! Nobody told me that. Wait a second he wasn't here last year?" you said, referring to the first year you lived here and did the quiz.
"He was off being a big shot superstar" James said, rolling his eyes making you grunt.
"you don't have to say it like that. It's rude" you said making Liam stand up for you "yeah cmon, Yn told me what you said to him at Durrell, he hasn't given us any reason to treat him like that" you gave Liam a look to say thank you.
"I'm going to get a drink while the bar is fairly free, anyone want one?" Lewis said, making you all nod.
"I'll give you a hand. Need to pee anyway" you said, everyone told Lewis what they wanted and then you both walked to the bar.
"Let me just use the ladies and then I'll be back to help with the drinks" you said, going off to the toilet, getting stopped by a local on your way who commented on how nice you looked. You thanked them before going into the ladies room.
You did what you had to do and started walking back to the bar to meet Lewis, you weren't looking where you were going to ended up bumping into someone as you heard them say "easy there love", you recognised the voice straight away and your heart began thumping quickly , his hand quickly came flying to your waist to stop you from falling, you looked up to him finally being met with two piercing blue eyes and you recognised instantly.
"Henry" you said, taking a step back, smiling to his brothers who all had a pint in their hand.
"Yn!" he said, stepping forward to hug you tightly, he lifted you off the ground slightly, making you giggle. You were glad he was happy to see you. "This is Yn" he said excitedly to his brothers as he took a step back again.
"nice to meet you, I'm Simon"
"pleased to meet you I'm Niki"
"Fastest time at Durrell right? I'm Piers"
"I'm Charlie. We'll leave you and Hen to it. It was lovely to meet you" you felt a bit overwhelmed, each of them introducing themselves, shaking your hand and placing a friendly greeting kiss to your cheek.
"Sorry about that." Henry said, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.
You heard your name being called by Lewis and you looked over to the bar and saw him struggling with the drinks.
"Uh- it's okay. Shit sorry my friend needs my help. I really want to catch up but-" you said, getting interrupted by another call of your name from Lewis. It was the first time he had heard you swear and he thought it was cute, you sounded a little bit angry at the person who was calling you and it made Henry smirk slightly, you were cute when you were mad.
"It's okay. Go, we can catch up later. It's really good to see you, love, you look great" he said, leaning down to place a kiss against your cheek.
"so do-" "YN!" "coming! Sorry Henry"
You paced over to Lewis, hitting him on the back making him wince.
"What was that for?" he said, you grabbed 3 drinks in your hand and walked to the table, Lewis following behind you.
"Did you not see who I was talking to?" you said to Lewis, passing everyone their drinks and sliding next to Amy, Lewis sliding in next to you.
"No? I was trying to get the drinks" he said dumbfoundedly.
"Well I was talking to Henry. Didn't get much chance to talk because all of his brothers introduced themselves and then you interrupted me" you said, making everyone scold Lewis.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise" he said, making you chuckle.
"Oh well, too late now" you said, nudging your shoulder against Lewis'.
"You already tried it with her, now it's his turn" Liam joked, making everyone laugh. Lewis had asked you on a date when you first started working at Durrell, you had agreed but after the date the two of you agreed you didn't feel any sparks. He was a good looking guy but nothing was there, of course it was now a running joke in your group.
"Oh shut up" you said, laughing with your friends again. The quiz began and you all continued drinking and laughing, you occasionally looked over at Henry's table, sometimes you would meet his eyes and you would both smile, you saw that they too were laughing and having a good time which made you smile.
Henry on the otherhand was getting a little bit jealous, Lewis was sitting very close to you and his arm was wrapped protectively around you shoulders, you knew there was nothing of this behaviour apart from the fact you were just such good friends, but Henry didn't know your history, all he knew was you looked like a couple and looked good together. He couldn't really expect much, you both agreed that what will happen will happen and he had been gone for a couple of months now and a lot can happen in that time.
The quiz finished and your team did terribly but none of you cared. You went to get some water from the bar, no one else wanting a drink. Henry saw you get up on your own and took this opportunity to come and talk to you.
"Enjoy the quiz?" he said, his hand resting on your lower back for a second before he moved it away, weird you thought.
"We did terribly but yeah I did. You?" you said, making him nod down at you.
"How have you been?" he said, making you smile.
"Really good. Busy but good" you said continuing with "How about you? How was filming?"
"Amazing as always. Good to be back though" he said, the both of you turning your head to your friends when you heard one of them wolf whistle.
"Excuse them. They're a bunch of children" you said, raising your voice a little so they hear, Amy and Emily hit the guys to shut them up, making Henry laugh.
"They seem nice." he said, making you look back at him.
"They're a pain in the ass but I love them" you said, making Henry smile.
"Your brothers were really sweet" you said, the both of you turning your heads the other way to see his brothers.
"They're a pain in my ass too but I love them" he said using your own words.
"I know this might seem like a weird question but are you seeing anyone at the moment?" he said and you saw him glance at Lewis.
"Nope. He's just a good friend. He's handsy with everyone" you said laughing to yourself.
"Hmm" Henry said, making a mental note. You're single, nice.
"Your friend Amy invited me to your birthday... What did she call it?"
"Bash" you said at the same time, making each other laugh.
"Yeah... Don't know why she decided to call it that. You don't have to come if you don't want to. I'd understand" you said, taking a sip from your water.
"Do you want me to come?" he said, making you smile.
"If you wanted to." you said, placing a hand over his.
"Okay, guess you'll see me there then. Maybe we could go for coffee before? Have a proper catch up?" he said making you nod quickly.
"I'd love that Henry" you said squeezing his hand.
"Good. You do look really good by the way. Beautiful" he said making you blush.
"Thank you. A bit overdressed for this place but none of us get the chance to go out so we made it a tradition to dress up a bit for this quiz. Stupid I know" you said, looking down slightly so your hair covered your blushing cheeks. Henry's fingers glided across your chin lightly, lifting your face up to look at him.
"Not at all. Sounds like a lovely tradition" he said, his fingers dropping from your chin. Your own fingers tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.
"Thanks. Haha. I'll let you get back to your brothers. It was really nice seeing you. Text me about that coffee date yeah? You still have my number?" you said making him nod.
"Okay" you said walking back to your table. Henry smiled at you saying it was a date before walking back to his table. You sat down next to your friends breathing out deeply, you felt like you hadn't taken a breath since you were standing with him.
"How did it go?" they all said at the same time.
"Fine. We're going to meet up for coffee sometime before my birthday bash" you said cringing slightly at the name making Amy giggle.
"Everything with him feels so intense," you said, rubbing your temples.
"Ooo I love it. Imagine what the sex will be like" James said making everyone laugh. You looked over to his table again seeing him already looking at you, he winked at you making you blush and look back to your friends.
Well this is going to be... Interesting.
Part 2
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All Too Well- part 2
Summary: Johnny Lawrence was a troubled kid, then a troubled teen, and although he hid this from most, there were a few people he allowed to truly know them.
Series of one-shots telling his story with one of those people.
Part 1
Part 2: Johnny and Noelia’s first meeting.
Late August, 1982
Noe held the toy gun with a firm grip and closed an eye as she pointed at her target. Around her, the loud voices of games and people having a good time seemed to fade away as she forced herself to focus on the game at hand. This was only a little bit better than just awkwardly wandering around on her own.
Firing in quick succession, she almost didn’t miss and smiled to herself, lowering the toy as the screen switched onto the next level. She noticed a girl standing nearby.
“Oh, sorry. Were you waiting to…?” she left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air and pointed at the screen.
The girl, who had been staring, shook her head, her pretty blond curls bouncing about.
“No! It’s fine, really. You were here first. I was just watching while I waited for my friends.” she took a tentative step forward, so they wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. “You’re really good.”
“Thanks.”She stepped aside and motioned for the girl to stand in her place. “You wanna keep going? I was getting bored anyway.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, shortening the distance further.
Noe smiled, handing her the gun. Her dad had talked her into going to that place to meet some people before classes started in september. This seemed like the perfect chance.
“I’m Ali.” the blond smiled in return, turning her eyes to the screen and shooting. She missed almost half of the targets.
“Noelia.”
“You new here?”
Noe nodded, but Ali probably couldn’t see it.
“Yeah. My family moved here from Winsconsin a few weeks ago.”
“Cool!” she gave her a swift look. “Must be a big change.”
“Yeah, but I think so far I like it.”
Ali kept on missing despite Noe’s gentle advice, and soon the game was over.
“Sorry I ruined it.” she said with a grimace, putting the gun down and moving aside to allow two boys no older than twelve to take her place.
Noe waved a hand.
“It’s just a game.”
“They’re right there! It’s not like real hunting, you know? They’re just a few feet away.”
The other girl shrugged, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Maybe it’s the bright colors? I find them pretty distracting.”
Ali gave the screen a pitiful look.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Ali!”
Both looked in the direction of the voice, finding a tall brunette waving next to a redhead. Ali turned to Noe.
“Hey, wanna join me and my friends? We were about to have a snack.”
“Are you sure they won’t mind?” It sounded good. Really good. Almost two weeks had passed since the move, and each day, Noe found herself lonelier than the last. Her parents had quickly settled into their new routines at their respectives jobs, and her little brother spent most of the day playing with the other kids from the complex. Noe had had so much free time in her hands that she had unpacked most of their stuff all on her own and even managed to fix a shelf in the kitchen without help.
“Yeah, c’mon! It’ll be fun!”
“Ok, but I’m getting some fries first.”
Ali motioned to her friends and guided Noe to the food stand, where she also ordered a slurpee.
“So, which school are you going to?”
“West Valley. Sophomore year.”
Ali’s eyes widened.
“Me too! That’s so cool! Maybe we’ll share some classes.”
Great relief washed over Noe as she heard this. This girl seemed nice, plus It’d be great to know at least one person on her first day.
Hearing some commotion coming from the table Ali’s friends had sat at, both girls turned to look. The blonde groaned.
“Great.” her voice dripped sarcasm.
Noe looked on with curiosity as the table filled with a bunch of loud boys.
“Friends of yours?”
“Friends of my friends, unfortunately.” the blue eyed girl answered.
One of the boys leaned closer to Ali’s friend and said something, to which the girl pointed in their direction and his head snapped up, zeroing in on them.
Caught, Noe hurried to look away and thanked the employee as he handed her the drink. Next to her, Ali’s mood had visibly damped. Of course, Noe wanted to ask, but she wasn’t too sure if it was the right moment for that. They had just met after all. Who knew the history there.
“Oh, great, now he’s coming over. Quick, pretend you’re with me.”
“I am with you.” Noe smiled, subtly raising her eyes to see the guy from before approaching.
He was quite tall and seemed well built, his blond hair fell over his forehead, but they didn’t hide his blue eyes. Noe felt the straw falling back into the cup. He had to be pretty terrible, because otherwise she wouldn’t understand why Ali seemed to hate him so. He shouldn’t have a right to look so good.
He looked at her as he approached and crocked his head to the side, smirking. She looked away, embarrassed for getting caught.
Luckily, he walked past them, but she could feel his eyes on her, almost burning her. It was something she thought happened in her mom’s novels only.
Her new friend suddenly looked at her, seeming like she was trying to make a choice.
Noe was about to ask her when something collided with her back, sending her forward. Ali caught her by the arms, and Noe gasped as the icy contents of the cup spilled over her shirt, its cold contents against her hot skin causing a small shock.
“Seriously, Johnny?!”
“What?! It was an accident!”
Ali looked as convinced of that as of the existence of Santa.
“Right. Just like you.”
Noe put the cup on the counter and looked down.
“Crap.” she muttered.
Ali was pushed back as another figure imposed itself into her line of vision.
“Hey, you okay there?” she looked up to find the blond guy again. His expression shone with excitement, which she found suspicious. “It really was an accident.”
“Yeah, don’t worry.” she waved him away, looking down again at her shirt.
“Here, let me buy you another.” he offered quickly.
The blonde girl jumped back in and pushed the guy, Johnny, away with a hip thrust.
“You do that, jerk.”
“It was an accident!” he defended again, raising both hands.
She ignored him.
“C’mon. I’ll help you clean up.”
Noe let Ali take her hand and guide her to the bathroom without a word.
Looking back, she caught Johnny grinning from ear to ear at their retreating forms. He winked and she rolled her eyes half-heartedly.
Boys.
Johnny PoV
"Play nice." He had muttered to his boys under his breath and through clenched teeth as Ali Mills and her cute, new friend approached the group.
He stood up from his place at the edge of the table, his eyes never straying from the girl.
She was pretty. Petite, olive skin, rosy cheeks and eyes so dark they were almost black, except for those bright green flecks. Her curls hung loose down to her shoulders, which were exposed.
Maybe he could take a break from his attempts at wooing Ali, it wasn't really working anyways.
Ali stopped in front of them, but only addressed her friends.
"Girls, this is Noelia. Noelia, meet Barbara and Susan."
They both smiled and greeted the new girl, which she returned warmly as her eyes drifted to him and his friends.
Johnny took his chance, striding towards her.
"Hey, I'm Johnny." He shook her hand, gazing into her eyes. He felt a rush, but quickly shook it off. "These are Jimmy, Bobby, Dutch and Tommy."
"Hi everyone." Her voice was soft, but easily heard, even with the commotion around them.
"Look," he pulled her out of Ali's grip fairly easily and to the place he had saved for her next to Bobby. "I got your order for you, and another drink."
She smiled at him, like he was some sort of angel or something.
"That's very kind but you didn't have to."she reached for her pocket. "Please let me repay you for the drink."
"No, no I can't." He raised his hands, taking a step back. Jimmy and Dutch were laughing silently behind Noelia while Ali glared at them, arms crossed and looking like she had sucked on a lemon. She was the only one of the female group who seemed to see through their bullshit. "I spilled the drink on you-"
"It was an accident."she interrupted.
"And ruined your clothes-"
"On accident."
"It's just a drink, Noelia." He liked saying her name.
She stared at him for a few seconds, and Johnny felt like a small kid when they got praise. That unadulterated rush of pride and self-worth that boosted anyone's ego ran through him after so long as she finally nodded.
"Okay. Thanks." She sat at the table, and he was quick to follow up and take the space to her left.
Ali sat on the opposite side next to Barb and gave him a warning glance.
Don't mess her up or else...
He chuckled internally and turned to listen as Noelia answered Susan's question.
She opened up slowly but steadily, and seemed to be hitting it off quite well.
"So, your parents moved here for work?" It was Bobby who asked, playing around with his straw. "What do they do?"
She swallowed her fry before replying:
"Mom's a dentist and dad's a surgical nurse."
Johnny snickered as Dutch, Tommy and Jimmy laughed. The girls and Bobby rolled their eyes.
"Your dad's a nurse?!" Dutch asked, almost in tears.
It was funny, but not that funny. Then again, Dutch could laugh at almost anything when he was as high as he was at the moment.
Noelia crossed her arms over her chest, her face going from angelic to malevolent as she glared at him.
"Yeah. Got a problem?"
Dutch ceased his laughter long enough to give her an obvious look as he gestured with his hands, like that would help get his point across.
"C'mon. That's a woman's job."
"So is being a hairdresser, which explains how you're so good at bleaching your hair." Ali spoke up without so much as a glance, finding her drink more interesting.
Johnny and the others outright laughed at this, including the girls. Noelia looked down as her shoulders shook, and then sent Ali a grateful look.
Johnny watched her for a moment and then at Dutch, his demeanor turning cold as he shook his head once in warning.
You're gonna ruin my chances.
Susan got up.
“I’m bored. I’ll go find a game.”
The other two got up, and after a discreet nod from the leader, so did the cobras. Ali turned back to Noe.
“Wanna come?”
The new girl checked her wrist watch and grimaced.
“I don’t think so. My dad’s picking me up soon.”
The blond’s face fell slightly.
“Oh, well, okay.” she perked up immediately after. “We’re throwing a party at the beach on saturday, to celebrate the end of the summer. You should come.”
“I think I can do that. Or I’ll see you at school.”
Ali nodded, and with quick words, they were all gone.
The girl turned and jumped, placing a hand to her chest. Johnny noticed her nails were painted black and slightly chipped.
“Sorry, I thought everyone left.”
He placed his elbow on the table and leaned against it.
“Thought I’d keep you company.” he smiled charmingly. It was the smile he used to suck up to the other parents in Encino.
“Are you sure you don’t wanna go with your friends? I won’t wait long or anything.”
Discreetly, he scooted closer to her. He mustn’t have done such a good job, since she narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’m perfect here, hot stuff.”
She snorted softly, and the blush that rose to her cheeks wasn’t as deep as he was used to getting from other girls.
“Do you come here often?” she asked him suddenly, turning all her attention to him. He was slightly caught off guard. After a moment, Johny started talking, and she listened.
She asked. He answered.
She asked. He answered. She listened.
She turned on the bench to face him, one leg on each side of the metal seat as he spoke of some of his favourite spots around the place.
He found it strange, but she truly seemed to be paying attention to what he said. She didn’t seem bored as he spoke, nodding along and making comments or side questions here and there, her rapt eyes on him, like being worthy of such magnitude of attention made sense. Like it was no effort to her.
He stared at her here and there. From the posture, to the way her long, flowy skirt framed her legs, to the hands which now laid on the bench right in front of her. Goosebumps seemed to be raising in her arms, so he did something odd, and instead of being cheeky and telling her to scoot over to him, he took off his red jacket and handed it to her.
Her hair flew with the breeze too, some of it getting to her face. She’d catch locks with those slender fingers and push them away to no avail, but it didn’t seem to annoy her in the least.
Eventually, the disconcert settled, then faded and he recovered his balls, finally asking about her too. It seemed only fair, and part of him was genuinely curious.
“So, you’ve been living here for long?”
“No, we just moved in some weeks ago.”
“And wha-”
“Noe!” a honk followed the yell, and she looked to her left as he looked to his right and caught a glimpse of a man waving from the inside of a car.
“That’s my dad. I gotta go.” she stood up and took off the jacket, handing it back to him. Up on her feet, the multicolored lights seemed to caress her, creating a kaleidoscopic halo around her silhouette. She grabbed her empty cup, cardboard plate and looked at him like they were old friends already. “Do you go to West Valley too?”
He nodded and she smiled brightly, like the news was delightful to her.
“That’s great! I’ll see you around, Johnny.”
Was that the first time she said his name out loud? It sounded nice.
“Yeah. See you.”
She departed then, walking with a sprint, stopping once to throw her trash in a can, then a second time before entering the car to turn and wave at him, and got in. He blinked, a group of nerds got in the way, and when they moved the car was long gone.
Some snickers bought him back to earth.
“What happened there, Johnny?” Dutch and Jimmy approached him, evil glints in their eyes. “Was it love at first sight? Are you gonna burst into song now?”
Johnny rolled his eyes and swiftly swept Dutch’s leg. He almost fell on his ass.
“Nah, man.” he shrugged. “She’s hot. I may ask her out once or twice, you know; get some experience before I ask Ali again.”
Jimmy nodded, like it made as much sense as their theory about the pyramids.
“She’s a Reseda girl, after all.”
“Mm.” He stood up from the bench and stretched before putting on his jacket again.
As he followed his friends back in, cracking jokes and laughing, he felt a peculiar scent.
He wasn’t sure what it was, but it reminded him of a bakery early in the morning, when everything is just out of the oven. It was nice.
His group got together again and he quickly jumped in, making sure to be the center of attention.
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Love, Emma (4/7)
(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem <33)
Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).
Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.
And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.
Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.
Title is from Taylor Swift’s Peace – which clearly inspired the mood of this chapter.
A huge thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who beta’d this and gave me her usual precious advice, and also big thanks to @carpedzem who screamed at me in the best way possible <3
Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 6000 words - ao3
Last scene of the last chapter was Killian arriving in NYC after the whole Neal stole watches and Emma impulsively runs away thing. This chapter opens on Killian, Emma, MM and David in MM’s kitchen -- right after Emma and Killian’s hug.
Part 1 - Mirrorball , Part 2 - AUGUST, Part 3 - HOAX, Part 5 - This is me trying, Part 6 - Cardigan, Part 7 - INVISIBLE STRING
PART 4 - PEACE
Would it be enough
If I could never give you peace?
.
Four years before Emma’s wedding – New York.
As Killian makes small talk with David and Mary Margaret in the kitchenette, Emma is quite thankful she cried this hard. While she really went all in, wept with both her eyes and her nose for a good ten minutes and clearly smeared Killian’s sweater for life in the process, Emma must confess that she does feel better.
Scientists didn’t lie about dopamine. The grey feeling in her chest is twirling in a salt puddle, but Emma knows it won’t be drowned forever. (Not when hazel lingers behind her eyelids, anyway.)
As she sits next to Killian, in front of a plate of scrambled eggs, Emma feels like she might be floating on a cloud. She’s almost tempted to close her eyes, and get some well-deserved rest, but Killian might leave again and her eyes shoot open at the thought.
She did not forget his text. He said he would be busy. Why isn’t he, suddenly?
Her fork slides to the right, and nearly stabs her cheek. Emma sighs, embarrassed, but they don’t notice her, engulfed in their conversation. That’s for the best.
A nasty hope raises her heart. Maybe, just maybe …
But then, no. No. She deserves better than this, better than being left hanging for him to look back at her. Knowing he never does.
“Well, I’m glad to see you two are still the most infuriating couple in town.”
Emma looks up to see a smile on Killian’s face. He is peeling an orange, and its smell fills Emma’s lungs with Christmas memories and Ingrid’s tender smile. She must be worried sick.
Guilt circles Emma’s throat, until she gets distracted by the orange peels dropped next to her. They look like petals.
Emma thinks, as Killian sits next to her, all upright and proper and Navy, that she sees him for the first time in ages. That the strawberry cloud surrounding him has blotted – somewhere between their last goodbye and the moment she realized she was blaming him for her grey, fuzzy feeling. She doesn’t know if she is allowed to blame him. Probably not. But it still itches.
David and Mary Margaret obviously like Killian. She sees it in the way David presses his shoulder when he reaches for butter, and Mary Margaret makes sure his cup of coffee is never empty. She thinks they always did like him more than they liked her. But that’s fair. She also liked Killian better.
“Aha, thank you, mate ,” replies David, and he has a green apron on his right shoulder and he looks very much so adult and Emma frowns, feeling like she missed an important step from teenagerhood to adulthood. “What about you, any lovebird?”
Well, now that was quick.
Mary Margaret’s swiftly elbows David in the ribs, but it’s too late. The eggs are already stuck down Emma’s throat, and it feels like a strong hand is strangling her. She coughs loudly, and a glass of water is pushed in front of her. Killian.
He won’t let her be mad, will he?
“Careful, Swan.” He even dares to smile. She wants to yell at him but Mary Margaret and David would stare, and she would have to explain why she’s yelling, and then she would have to talk about this funny, funny feeling in her belly when she thinks about M, and… She drinks up.
Killian gives a small chuckle then, but Emma barely hears it. She only hears the fickle buzzing of her heart.
“Sorry mate, I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” Killian’s words are sure and calm.
Without a glance, Killian hands Emma an orange slice, as if it were the most natural thing in the world – and sure, for a while it was – and she shoots him a death glare but she takes it all the same.
What does he think he’s doing? Does he think she’s just his to pick whenever he feels like it?
The small slice is very delicate and it leaves tangy, sugary drops on her fingers, but she does not think too much about it and shoves it in her mouth. It explodes in orangey sweetness.
“Can we change the subject?” asks Mary Margaret, and Emma isn’t looking up but she knows she’s staring at her with all of the compassion and the pity in the world and it makes Emma even madder.
Everything is so bitter. She doesn’t know where to look, where to be, for the pain to flatter.
“I need to get out,” Emma exhales suddenly. She doesn’t mean to say it like that, but those are the only words her brain comes up with.
“Oh. Alright. Well, David and I were thinking about going to the Christmas market but—”
“— It’s fine. You guys can go to the Christmas market, I’ll stay with Emma.”
Emma doesn’t offer Killian a glance, instead buries her nails into her palm. How dare he.
“Are you sure, Emma?” asks Mary Margaret, and Emma wants to snap back that she should have thought about it before inviting Killian over, but then she sees the gentle glint in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she can only sigh.
“Yeah, don’t worry. Killian and I need to talk, anyway.”
She hopes Killian’s heart makes a loop in his chest and the tip of his ears turn scarlet, as they always do when he is embarrassed. It’s all he deserves.
“Well, then it’s settled.”
And Emma wishes it didn’t smell like oranges and Christmas in the room, because then it would be easier to hate Killian Jones, for sure.
.
Bare are the trees of Central Park as Killian and Emma walk in, their boots crushing the fresh snow. Crunch, crunch, it sings. Emma loves that sound.
She is wearing her biggest red coat and a huge beanie but she is still shaking. She buries her hands in her pockets, walking ahead of Killian, and when she looks back he isn’t by her side. Panic rises in her mind, until she gets a glimpse of him a little down the street, queuing next to a coffee shop.
As she walks to meet him, her stomach twists. He’s getting her a hot cocoa. A green and viscous fury creeps from Emma’s toes to her heart. When he hands her the steaming cup, his fingers brush against hers and she blames the cold for the shiver that tingles her skin.
“Thanks,” she hisses, but still will not look at him. Twirls of chocolate steam escape the cup, it smells like heaven.
But Emma is very determined to hate Killian, from now on, and she hides her grin behind her cup.
“Should we sit on the bench?” offers Killian, and she loathes the gentle tone of his voice.
“Yup.”
Down the park, families are strolling and Emma’s heart sighs loudly. Oh, this is very much so unfair. What’s even more unfair, though, is the fact that when Killian presses one hand down her back, she doesn’t want him to stop.
She wants him to linger there. And when his hand quits her back as he sits down on the bench, it leaves frostbite.
She licks her lips, squeezing her thighs together. “Are you alright, Swan?”
She nods and sips the hot chocolate. Clouds of cinnamon tickle her nose. It makes her smile against her will, and then it makes her sad. He knows her by heart. Can you really leave someone you know by heart behind?
“I’m fine. So, we said we would talk,” she quickly mutters, and takes another sip of her warm drink.
Ah, this hot cocoa is definitely soothing her soul.
Killian crosses his legs, and she knows he only does so when he is uncomfortable and she is glad. He better be.
“What do you want to talk about?” Christmas lights twinkle in the trees behind him. They form the shape of a snowflake.
“First, who called you?”
They are green, red and yellow, the lights. Their sight should not tighten her throat like this.
“Ingrid. She was worried about you. She wants you to come back, Emma.”
She nods, a small, quiet cloud of white smoke escaping her lips.
“I thought she’d hate me. I thought she wanted to get rid of me.”
Killian’s furious stare burns the side of her cheek, and Emma blushes but she won’t look back at him.
“Why would she hate you, Emma? Ingrid’s always cared for you.”
She wants to tell him that he cared and he still left, but then she would start to cry, and she does not want that.
“Yeah, right. Well. I’m not used to someone putting me first.”
It’s hard to shake Neal’s smile from the cobweb of her thoughts. She thought he liked her. Hell, she thought he was in love with her and she was the one incapable of moving on from her teenage crush. She thought she was the one throwing away their chance at happiness. She was wrong.
And Killian reaches for her then, breaks their secret and unspoken oath of distance and loneliness and grabs the hand she let linger on the cold, wooden bench, and Emma can’t control the great dive of her eyes into his.
And blue are his eyes, icy blue, and so full of warmth, and she wants to drown in them. She clenches her jaw.
“I’m sorry for what happened, Emma. You deserve so much better than that scumbag.”
Well, does she? Anger burns deep within her. It’s a wicked flame.
She snatches her hand away from him and in that gesture she catches a smell of peeled oranges and everything sucks again.
“You were with her, right?” she attacks then, pushed by this bold fury in her heart, and they have to talk about it or it will kill her.
He opens his mouth then, but no sound comes out, and Emma swallows frozen stones.
“I…I was.” A pause. “How long have you known?”
She shakes her head then, blonde hair dancing over her eyelids. “Since this summer.”
But also, far before that. She thinks she knew the moment he stopped answering her calls at midnight and their texts got more scattered. That was probably the moment she knew.
She buries her hand in her pocket, so that he will not grab it again, and she drinks long mouthfuls of her hot cocoa. She swallows too fast and the vindictive liquid burns her throat. She winces.
“I see. And since we’re talking great revelations, how long has this thing been going on with Neal?”
So much for friendship, she thinks. So much for loyalty and comfort and trust. It nearly hurts as much as the savage burn left by the hot cocoa down her throat. Liar.
“This summer,” she lies.
She wants him to think she never cared, even if she most clearly does, or she wouldn’t be clinging to her hot cocoa this way.
There’s a scoff next to her. “I see.”
And then silence falls, and Emma doesn’t want this battle to end. But when she glances at him, his hands are calmly spread out on his lap, his cup of cocoa long forgotten, and she wants to shake him, to tell him to fight for her, for them, but he is already defeated and he doesn’t care.
“That’s it?” she asks, and her voice is hoarse with tears.
He looks at her then, shrugs. “What do you want me to say, Swan?”
Anything. Anything but his silence and his mature smile and his soft eyes that don’t see her.
“We’ve made mistakes, both of us, in keeping secrets from each other.” A pause. “I made a mistake. I should have talked to you. You’re my best friend, after all.”
“But we didn’t, Killian.” And this is very dangerous, because there is a sob curled up in her throat that is very eager to come out, and she cannot, she cannot let it out.
She needs him to understand.
“Why didn’t we talk about it, Killian? Why didn’t you say anything? Why?”
And he’s staring at her with his big blue eyes, and she feels miles away from him.
He must feel it, he must know how wrong this whole situation is, for them to be with anyone else, he must feel it or she’s been wrong all along.
“Because –” he starts and she’s glad to hear his voice is quivering, too. “— because I care too much about you. I didn’t want it to change anything between us.”
The Christmas lights are so very sad suddenly. “But it has changed everything, Killian.” A snowflake lands on his black, tousled hair. It’s snowing.
“Are you mad at me for leaving?” he asks then, and it’s such a quiet whisper in the snow, she barely hears it.
Anger turns to sadness. It always does.
She peers at him through her eyelashes. “No. Yes. ” A pause, the cold is biting her lips. “I tried to hate you for leaving.” And then he looks sad, and she remembers his own sorrow, and guilt circles her throat. “But I couldn’t.”
Her tiny cold hand leaves the safety of her velvet pocket to grab his palm, and she hopes he hears it. I’ll love you until the end of time.
And in a heartbeat, she presses her lips against his scruffy cheek, discovers his skin cold and damp, and there is a stubborn, stubborn hope in her chest – the hope that he might turn his face at the last moment and drink her breath.
He doesn’t.
When she backs away, her hand lingers on his face as she gazes at him intensely – to remember the gentle shadow dropped by his thick eyelashes on his cheekbones, his cheeks that have turned crimson, and his lips, vibrantly red and tasting of chocolate, his entire face as she allows herself to run after him, one last time.
Her hand leaves his face for the cold wetness of his coat, the bracelet at her wrist ringing, ringing, but she cannot let go, not quite now.
“I’m sorry, Emma.” He whispers, and finally turns his face towards her. It’s unfair. He is twenty seconds too late.
Her heart skips a beat. She thinks it echoes all through the park.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
She nods, and she should find peace in that, but she doesn’t. And it’s fine. She doesn’t need peace, not when this soft flame burns within her. Not while it keeps her alive.
“I know that, Killian.” And she glances down at his lips, stares intensely at them, and she is this close from kissing him, this close, but he backs away, and she smiles – defeated. “Thank you for coming, even though you were busy.”
And she watches him lick his lips, frown. “I’d drop everything for you, Emma. I will always have your back.”
She nods, her heart bursting. Her hand falls down his arm, a pink petal dropped in the snow, and reluctantly settles for holding her cup of hot cocoa. It feels like something is being ripped from her flesh. But that is also fine.
She stares straight ahead, at the Christmas trees and the families, and she exhales: “Let’s go see that Christmas market, huh?”
“Aye.” And he stretches his hand for her to hold, and the tip of his fingers is red and frozen and, before she knows it, his lips are pressed against her cheek, and a flower blooms in Emma’s chest.
And when she looks up, she swears she sees him bend towards her, a liquid flame burning in his gaze, and her breath gets caught in her throat. But then he stops, and snow melts on her lips.
The distance between their bodies, the unfinished course of his lips towards hers, the heartbeat she misses, all of this is fine.
She links their arms as they walk, muffling the voices in her head. They tell her she shouldn’t play with fire, but she has nothing to lose anymore.
.
Killian throws their now empty cups of hot cocoa in a nearby bin while Emma calls Ingrid. A weird pang lingers in his chest. This crisp winter day carries Christmas smells with it that fill Killian’s lungs with nostalgia and a strange kind of hope.
As he watches Emma pace restlessly in front of him, unaware of her surroundings, he feels proud of her for reaching out to Ingrid first.
Killian watches as Emma clenches onto the phone, throws a strand of hair behind her back and frowns, heels clacking on the pavement, and he notices just how different she looks. Her hair has grown, and she styled it to form golden curls over the red of her coat. She’s wearing lipstick as well, a bright red shade, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen her with it.
She’s changing. Evolving without him. It shouldn’t feel like this, in his throat, but it does, and in a blink he looks down at his feet to conceal his feelings.
His thoughts go back to Neal then, Neal who’s hiding somewhere and he desperately wants to find him and smash his pretty, pretty face.
But then he hears the click of Emma’s black boots on the snow coated pavement, and he looks up, forcing a smile on his face. There’s not much else to do but smile.
“Come,” she smiles and grabs his arm, “Everything we need is right in front of us.”
Oddly enough, they spend a good day together, one that brings Killian back to summer nights and long walks along the beach, and her hand in his, and the feeling, the conviction that this would last forever.
As they eat crepes and toasted marshmallows and somehow their laughter echoes between New York’s brick buildings, forever is merely a word and they are fighting against the passing of time.
All of this is ephemeral. But then again, everything is. Perhaps it is the reason why he wraps his arms quite as hard around her when she whines “I’m so cold, so cold” by a street corner, and she is so small in the crook of his neck, and his lips linger on her forehead as a chuckle shakes both of their shoulders.
(They never join Mary Margaret and David.)
And when nighttime falls, and they’ve finally reached Mary Margaret’s building, and it is time to say goodnight and goodbye, always goodbye, he makes a conscious effort in memorizing the features of her face. The pavement shines, glints, glistens under New York’s street lights, wears its prettiest fluorescent feathers.
And Emma’s face is inhabited by that same green, wet light. Her curls have loosened throughout the day and a crown of baby hairs is escaping from her beanie. She only looks more beautiful and touching. Her cheeks and nose are red from the cold and her eyes are two green lakes shining with gentle sparkles and her mouth is wet and he desperately wants to kiss her.
It would be easy to cave in, lean forward and drink her breath. Easy to take advantage of her broken heart and mold it with his hands.
And then what? Emma does not like him like he does, Emma is in love with Neal, she always has been it seems, and kissing her wouldn’t lead anywhere but to more heartache.
And he thinks of Milah then, Milah who’s betrayed him but whom he deeply cares for and who is willing to be with him. Milah who loves him, and whom he might love, if only he allowed himself to.
He wants to tell Emma then, join me in my hotel room, I did not come all the way here just to spend a few hours with you, come lie next to me and we’ll – Sweet, sweet fantasy.
Where would that bloody lead them?
“So, this is it. I’m expecting you to call me once you’re safe and home at Ingrid’s,” he finally whispers, and he sees it, this strange glimmer in her eyes.
She’s smiling, nods, seems at peace.
“You never told me her name. What is it?” she suddenly asks.
Frozen, frozen snowflakes fall all around them. The fire burning between their two bodies is still excruciating.
“Milah.”
She nods again. Breathes in and, he’s starting to understand as well, lets go. Very resolute, very brave when she kisses his cheek – for just one instant. And then her lips vanish.
And she smiles again, and Killian finally understands he is losing her forever.
He watches as she carefully cuts the golden string tying her to him, and his hand has a small jolt but he is not quick enough to stop her.
“I’ll see you around, next summer, I guess,” she simply mutters and does not wait for his reply to turn around.
The din of her boots echo on the pavement, until it does not.
And just like that, he’s lost her.
.
Watching Ingrid’s yellow bug park in front of Mary Margaret’s building, this Sunday morning, really stirs something strange and unfamiliar in Emma’s chest. She doesn’t know quite why but suddenly there is this heavy, heavy weight on her chest and it is hard to breath.
“It was nice to have you here, Emma. Do come back, when you are not in trouble, some day,” smiles Mary Margaret, and then she’s wrapping her arms around Emma’s body.
And Emma breathes into her, and she thinks everything is terribly overwhelming, but maybe it is a good kind of overwhelming for once. She clutches onto her friend.
“Thanks, Mary Margaret. I’ll be more than happy to come back.”
And then David’s pulling her into another hug, and Emma starts to think life doesn’t suck as much as she wants to believe it.
Ingrid gets out of the car, rubbing her hands together. “Well well, they don’t lie about New York weather.”
And Emma cannot tell but her face is definitely splitting into a ridiculous, ugly smile, and her chin starts quivering. An ocean of unfamiliar emotions is swallowing her. But maybe, just maybe, as Ingrid’s green eyes find hers and shine so very softly, maybe she is allowed to feel them.
“Emma.”
“Ingrid.”
And then Emma doesn’t know who reaches first, it’s her, it’s her stretching her hand and grabbing Ingrid’s shoulder and pulling her against her, until the weight on her chest explodes into thousands of strawberry bubbles of happiness.
And it’s really hard to swallow the tears that threaten to come out of her eyes when Ingrid’s hand finds her scalp and gently massages it, and her smell fills her lungs, and she never realized Ingrid had a smell and that it smelled like home.
And then Ingrid’s lips are on her temples and Emma is nowhere to be found, melting into a puddle of glittering happiness.
And when she looks behind her back, Mary Margaret and David have disappeared.
“I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me, Emma.”
And then Emma shakes her head, nods, laughs a little. “It’s fine, Ingrid. It’s fine. It was equally my fault.”
Ingrid grins, her hands cupping Emma’s face, and Emma feels safe and loved, and she forgives both of them.
Emma learns during their car trip back to Storybrooke that Ingrid found the jewelry store where the watches were stolen, and she gave them back, and the shopkeeper was so happy he withdrew his complaint.
Neal is nowhere to be found. But Emma thinks that’s quite alright, because this pain will fade away with time as well.
And when Killian sends her a text “Safely landed. Already missing you”, Emma ignores it and shoves her phone down her bag.
This pain will fade away with time as well.
.
Six months before Emma’s wedding.
Emma’s running. She’s running like she’s never run before. Mind you, as deputy Sheriff of Storybrooke, for two years now since David left for New York, running is part of her job description. But she’s never run with this kind of fervor before.
She’s running as if Killian Jones might close his eyes and never wake up.
“Family?” asks the hospital nurse without a look at her.
Big, big pearls of sweat roll down Emma’s temples as she stares at the nurse with eyes wide open, trying to catch her breath. “Y-yes,” she lies, in the blink of an eye.
And then the nurse glances down at her left hand and Emma knows she sees the ring on her finger and thinks – but she is mistaken and it is fine.
“Alright. His room number is 815.”
And Emma turns around like a devil, like she’s possessed really, and she thinks she is, she is possessed by a fear that’s tearing her heart down and setting it on fire.
“Miss?”
“Mmm?” What again?
“You might want to prepare yourself. He was given a huge amount of morphine, to lessen his pain. He probably won’t be awake when you come in. ”
Emma nods, swallows downs a disinfectant smell that burns her tired lungs. If she could prepare herself she would. But there’s no preparing for that.
.
As she steps into Killian Jones’s hospital room, Emma feels like her heart is thrown at her feet and the whole world is joyfully trampling on it.
Her entire universe stopped spinning when she received the call. (She’s still his next of kin. That thought alone infuriates her.)
But as she faces him, lying still on this small bed, his skin, so pale, so pale he nearly seems dead, with his eyes resolutely closed and this enormous, horrendous bandage around his wrist, she wonders by which miracle her legs manage to hold her.
“Killian…”
She tries to convince herself she won’t cry then, but her eyes do not care for her pride and are soon filled to the brim with tears as a smile crinkles her face, but it’s not a smile, it’s a terrible, terrible sob that won’t come out.
She drags her boneless legs towards the bed, and then she’s faced with an awful dilemma: where to touch him, where to tether herself, and not to hurt him in the process?
Her eyes twitch, she blinks, and settles for brushing slightly his cheek.
“Hello there,” she whispers then, “Heard you had a very bad fall. I came as soon as I could.”
Flashes of Neal’s anger and disappointment and anger and more disappointment linger behind her eyelids. He was furious.
He couldn’t understand why she would drop everything, why she would drop him on the spot, just to save this childhood friend she hasn’t seen in a year.
“When, Emma, when are you going to choose me over him?”
And he tried to take her engagement ring away, the one she is turning around her finger, swirl, swirl, the golden ring, the golden cage.
A very viscous bile climbs back up her throat.
“I missed you,” she exhales, and clenches onto his bruised knuckles.
She gathers all of her willpower not to stare at the void, the void where his hand is supposed to be, and she licks her lips because she is scared this is one blow will simply be too much to withstand.
Life has a peculiar fondness for punching Killian Jones straight in the face, it seems.
.
Opening one’s eyes is really the most natural thing to do. Until one’s eyelids seem as heavy as lead, and there isn’t much for one to wake up to.
His life really fell apart, in those last months, huh. Which is why, as this bloody machine closed on his wrist during the ship’s inspection, Killian Jones really wasn’t that surprised. He would have chuckled if not for the pain, taunting Fate with a very sharp “Oh, is that what we’re going for now?”
That’s what he got for being promoted to Lieutenant. Any good Lieutenant made sure the ship’s mechanics were properly checked before sailing away. And he did, bloody hell.
It was the worst ship launching the Navy had seen in years. Killian would be proud if not for the pain, again.
And then he hears her voice. “Hello there,” and for a minute he fears he is dead.
But then her hand is on his face and the sun couldn’t possibly shine in hell, could it?
He wants to reach for her, but the only hand he has left refuses to move, and it is driving him mad. Her smell fills his lungs, fills it with ginger and herself and meaning.
And then she leaves the room and it is darkness and void and silence. And he wants to scream.
.
David and Mary Margaret stand up as one in the waiting room, as Emma shuts Killian’s door behind her.
Seeing them is such a relief, it makes her forget the pebbles in her belly for one instant.
“Emma, honey,” and Mary Margaret’s arms are around her, and it’s a wave of comfort. “We came as soon as we could.”
Emma drove all night from Storybrooke to Portsmouth and coffee is starting not to be enough to keep her eyes open.
“He still hasn’t woken up?” asks David as he presses his hand on Emma’s shoulder.
She shakes her head. “Nope. He went through surgery last night. He should wake up any time now.” This bitter taste in the back of her throat will not fade and the thousands of coffees she’s had only worsen it.
“How…How did Neal take it? Considering he was opening his pawnbroker’s shop this weekend?” risks Mary Margaret, in a very small voice.
Right. Neal.
Mary Margaret doesn’t mean to hurt Emma any further, but there it is, the weight on her finger, swirl, swirl, swirl.
“Bad. Very bad. But he’ll manage.”
Emma tries to ignore their concerned eyes then, because they know too much and she doesn’t want to prove them right. Although every inch of her being is probably giving her away anyway.
Swirl, swirl, swirl.
But she wants to belong to someone, and Neal knows her, in spite of everything, he knows her and he chose her, and it is enough. Hell, he fought for her, for two years, showing up every day at the sheriff station once he learnt Graham had taken Emma under his wing, he showed up and he showed her he cared.
And she quite literally put him through hell before giving him a second chance after his first betrayal.
“I never meant to let you go, Emma. I swear it to you, but the police were at my back and I couldn’t bring you into all of this. But I never stopped loving you, I never did, and I’ll love you until the end of time – only if you’ll let me.”
And sometimes, all one really wants is to be wanted, after all.
“Do we… Do we know if she’s coming?” asks Mary Margaret in a very quiet tone, as if she doesn’t want to utter the words.
Emma has a big sigh then. “No, she’s not. Killian definitively broke up with her three months ago.”
David and Mary Margaret both stare at her with something terrible in their eyes. Emma pretends she does not see it.
“He found out she’d been cheating. Again,” she lies. It’s easier this way.
Emma doesn’t tell them that Killian didn’t tell her about the breakup, and she just learnt about it from the mouth of Killian’s superior, doesn’t tell them they have hardly spoken since she started dating Neal again, and especially doesn’t tell them that Neal proposed three months ago and she sent Killian a text to which he never replied.
Nope. That’s a cross for her to bear.
.
He moves. Emma’s eyes shoot open. He moved . It wasn’t really perceptible, but she felt it, the small clench of his fingers around hers.
Emma sits up straight. She thinks he is frowning. This is good. This is good. He is waking up.
“Come on, Killian. You can do this. Push through this.”
And finally, finally , his eyelids flutter, flutter, until blue emerges and his eyes go wide. She smiles, and it’s the most genuine smile she’s had in months.
“Ems’,” he begins, a hoarse whisper. His throat must be dry.
She presses her fingers softly, swiftly, against his dry lips. “Shush, Killian, it’s going to be okay.”
She rushes to the small sink in his bedroom. A plastic cup was left there, and she fills it with water, before tenderly pushing it against Killian’s lips.
He closes his eyes, drinks slowly as her other hand cups the back of his head.
And then the cup is put down with her bravery, and she grabs his fingers. She sees the waves of terror in his eyes, the waves exhaustion cannot quite hide, and it reminds her of their childhood and she desperately wants to mend him, to soothe his soul, but there is so much to heal and he won’t let her.
She presses a very trembling kiss onto his forehead. She sees him close his eyes into her touch, and her entire being is screaming.
“Feared you wouldn’t come,” he manages to whisper. She watches as he swallows down.
She shakes her head. “Of course I’d come.” A pause. “You absolutely do not have permission to ever scare me like this again.”
He manages to smile, somehow. “You don’t have to worry about me, Swan. I’m a survivor.”
Her chin quivers then, and she hates herself because she should be the strong one. But it is exhausting to remain brave when he seems completely, utterly defeated.
“Fancy that red-leather jacket of yours.”
And he makes her chuckle, the bastard, he is the one lying on a hospital bed and he makes her chuckle.
“Thanks, Killian.” And she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, and she sees it. The glint of her ring under the yellow ceiling light. And he sees it too.
And he stares at her ring then, that glints, glints, and a lightning bolt shatters the blue of his gaze and she wants to throw it away so that she will never have to stare at this deep, dark blue sea of sadness.
Instead, she smiles. There is not much else to do but smile.
.
“Neal?”
“Emma, I’m so glad you called. I wanted you to know that I’m sorry, and I understand, I really do…”
“Don’t bother apologizing. I just wanted to warn you that I’m going to stay a while with Killian. He needs me.”
“…He needs you? He needs you? What about your job? What about me, Emma?!”
“Graham agreed to this. He owes me so many days off. And I will ask you this once, Neal: quit talking about Killian as if he doesn’t matter, or I swear to god, I will give you back your ring. And there will be no third chance.”
“See? See how you react, Emma? As if I’m the villain in this stupid little story of yours and I am tired of th—”
She hangs up.
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#cs ff#cs fanfics#captain swan#my stuff#love emma#love rosie#do leave me your thoughts#they are always welcome#much love to you guys
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Practically Brothers
Summary: Marlon and Louis spend some time helping each other out before having a joke off later that night.
Word Count: 2602
Read on AO3:
“Careful, Lou! Don’t move so much!” Marlon warned as a bit of the vegetable oil spilled onto his pants leg.
“Shit, sorry!” Louis flashed an apologetic grin over at his best friend. “I just got excited I guess. We haven’t done a hairdo day in forever.”
Marlon smiled warmly at Louis’ words. It had been a while since they had done this. For the last couple years Louis and Marlon would get together in Louis’ room and surround themselves in the secret stash of pillows that Louis had (although everyone at Ericson knew about it so his stash wasn’t very secretive at all).
Once they got hidden away in the stash of pillows on his bed they would begin the process of helping each other with their hair. Life had been so hectic lately though that neither of them had had the time or energy for this special time together. With struggling to get enough food for everyone, making sure that the school was safe and dealing with more deadheads than they can count, everyone at the school was exhausted.
Marlon dipped his finger into the vegetable oil once more and began to moisturize Louis’ dreadlocks. Louis sat there quietly for a few moments before he began to whistle. Marlon bopped his head around here and there to the tune. The two of them enjoyed the peaceful moment as Marlon continued to work on Louis’ dreads. After a few seconds Louis stopped humming and his eyes wandered over to the small amount of vegetable oil that stood in an old soda bottle.
“I hope Omar never finds out how much of his vegetable oil we’ve stolen,” Louis’ words made Marlon pause for a moment before resuming. Louis didn’t have to look at his best friend’s face to know that he was smiling.
“Yeah, this will be a secret that we take to the grave,” Marlon held out his hand that wasn’t coated in the oil and Louis shook it firmly.
“We shook on it so now we gotta keep it a secret,” Louis smiled as he sat still.
“I was going to keep it a secret either way. Omar is scary when it comes to food,” Marlon’s words made Louis laugh softly.
“Isn’t that the truth,” Louis looked outside the window and noticed that some of the leaves were beginning to fall. Soon this season would be over and the cold harshness of winter would be upon them. Louis wondered how much stress would weigh on Marlon’s shoulders throughout that season. Marlon never seemed to take on more than he could bear. At least that was the impression that Louis had gotten over the years. Louis snuck a glance back at his friend. He was really thankful to have Marlon as a leader. He won hands down over all the shitty adults that had left them the moment the world went to hell.
“All done,” Marlon spoke up and wiped off the oil on his hands before he took off his letterman jacket. The blond tossed it beside him on his right and shifted his weight. Louis scooted over on his knees and grabbed the knife.
“Alright, dude, stay extremely still or I might accidentally shave off part of your mullet.” Louis smirked.
Marlon frowned over at his friend for a moment before a subtle smirk appeared on his lips. “That would be way too high a price to pay.”
“It would be a travesty,” Louis began to shave the right side of Marlon’s head where some new hair was growing in. He only needed to shave a small portion of it. “Have no fear, I won’t harm this majestic mane,” Louis grinned and continued his task. Once the right side was done he picked up his friend’s jacket and shook the loose hairs off onto the floor before tossing the jacket over on Marlon’s other side. Shuffling over, Louis began the process once again on the left side. The room was quiet except for some quips from Louis here and there. After a few minutes he was done. Louis scooted back and nodded proudly. “Yep, you are still rocking that eighties look!”
“Someone has to,” Marlon smiled and worked to get his jacket back on. He glanced out the window and saw the slant of the sun. “Shit, I need to go talk to Brody about the fishing shack. Could you find Aasim and go over the traps again? It will be easier if you’re there seeing as you’re the one who made them and all,”
“I’ll see if I can. My piano may be calling to me,” Louis got off of his bed and stretched.
“Louis, please. For me,”
Marlon’s tone made Louis pause before nodding. “Okay, I will be with Mr. Stick in the Mud in two shakes of a lamb’s tail!”
Marlon chuckled at Louis’ words then waved goodbye. Soon both of them were off to their respective tasks.
The day went by fairly smoothly. Marlon had been able to figure out a solution with Brody regarding the efficiency of the current fishing spot while Louis had fixed the traps. All it had cost was a headache that Aasim claimed he had gotten from Louis’ talking. Louis insisted this was a false accusation and that Aasim simply didn’t drink enough water that day.
Evening was quickly upon them. After Ruby and Sophie had worked to prep the ingredients with Omar for dinner and once the perfectionist chef himself signed off on the meal, dinner was served. Louis immediately took a spot next to Marlon who was sitting at a table with Ruby, Brody and Rosie. The pitbull casually sat beside Marlon who snuck little treats to her here and there when Ruby wasn’t looking.
The four of them ate the food happily, enjoying the warm, comforting stew that they had eaten for years and would continue to until the walkers got them or - as Sophie had proudly declared - old age did. She always believed that all of them could live until they were old and withered. Dinner continued to be peaceful as people at the different tables chatted and conversed until Marlon let out a huge burp.
“Good Lord,” Ruby waved a hand in front of her face and frowned at Marlon.
“Sorry,” Marlon smiled sheepishly and began to sip his stew when Louis spoke up.
“Yeah, you should be. This is a real burp!” Louis belched loudly, causing Marlon to nearly choke on his stew. The pair laughed loudly while Ruby got up and stormed off with a huff.
“Honestly, you two,” Brody got up and jogged after Ruby. The pair talked quietly for a minute before Brody offered that they could have some tea which brightened up Ruby’s mood immensely.
“Alright, Marlon, it's a joke-off time,” Louis grinned and saw the sparkle of joy in Marlon’s eyes.
“Okay, but you better get ready to lose. You’re the one that's going to get stuck with dish duty,” Marlon smirked over at Louis.
“That’s funny because I could’ve sworn I saw your name on the list for dish duty.” Louis returned the look back at his best friend.
Soon Mitch and Aasim moved to a table nearby Marlon and Louis’ table along with Willy who jumped down onto the spot next to Mitch. All of them were interested in seeing this joke-off. It had become a fairly regular routine with this pair. Marlon and Louis would throw back jokes back and forth and whoever ran out of jokes first or felt that the other one had done better would lose. The loser would then be stuck with an annoying chore.
Louis cleared his throat and decided to start the joke off. “I saw you picking flowers the other day for a girl,” Louis leaned forward and looked at his friend. “I bet Rosie liked them.”
Marlon smiled at that joke before adding in his own. “Hey Lou, the spiders called. They want their baby back,” Marlon smirked when he saw that Louis had understood he was referring to his hair.
“Oh ho ho, well played,” Louis grinned. No one else seemed impressed by these jokes. They were usually bad, corny or downright dumb jokes about Marlon or Louis. Occasionally Rosie or one of the other kids got thrown into the jokes but that was less frequent. Louis pondered his next joke for a while before delivering it with a smirk. “Marlon is so white that sunscreen puts him on,”
Marlon chuckled at that which made Louis laugh as well. “Oh yeah? Well, Louis, I hate to break it to you but the tooth fairy doesn’t take teeth that are lost on account of being a dumbass,”
Louis’ eyes widened at those words and he held his heart in mock sadness. Marlon began to laugh some more at that which in turn made Louis’ laughter grow. “Hey, Marlon, y’know why Rosie has a mattress in the headmaster’s office? It's because you smell so bad even she won’t sleep next to you,”
Marlon felt the zing of that one and immediately had a comeback. “Well the only reason your piano doesn't run away from your stank is because its legs don’t work!”
Louis paused at Marlon’s words, impressed by the reply. The pair was quiet for a second before they burst out laughing. The two of them continued to shoot jokes and zingers back and forth until Marlon held up his hands.
“Alright, alright, I’ll forfeit this round but you’d better watch out for next time,” He smiled competitively at his best friend. Louis returned the look and leaned his elbows on the table.
“We’ll see about that. After all, both of us are-”
“Idiots,” Violet butted into the conversation as she walked by with the twins and Tenn.
“Actually it's pronounced geniuses. We are joke masters.” Louis smiled at the blonde who rolled her eyes as Marlon and Louis high fived.
“Well, you’ll face the daunting task of being under the watchful eye of Omar as you clean dishes tomorrow,” Louis stood up from his spot.
“Oh boy, I can't wait,” Marlon quipped and rose as well.
“You still have one more night of freedom. So how about you join me in the music room?” Louis offered and Marlon nodded warmly.
“Sounds good to me, Lou. I just need to grab something from the headmaster’s office.” Marlon began to walk alongside Louis.
“Alright, then I shall see you soon. If you get lost, just follow the sound of my mesmerizing music,” Louis pulled on the sides of his coat as he strolled forward.
“Will do, but I think Rosie and I will be able to navigate the winding halls of the admin building just fine,” Marlon waved a quick goodbye to Louis before jogging up the stairs. Rosie followed close behind.
Minutes later Marlon had entered the office. He strolled forward and reached out for the map that lay on the table. His eyes wandered over it for a second before he felt Rosie pawing at his leg. “Sorry, girl,” Marlon gave the pitbull some loving pats and headscratches. “We can go hang out with Louis now,” Marlon tucked away the map in his pocket and grabbed the red pencil.
Rosie led the way down the stairs and happily trotted towards the music room where Louis had begun to play his music. Based on the strained notes and the slightly off-centered music, Marlon guessed that the piano was due for a tuning. Louis turned when he heard the door creak open thanks to Rosie’s paws whacking against it.
“Seems you were able to find the music room after all,” Louis smiled playfully at his friend who returned the smile.
“Yeah, it was a good thing I had Rosie with me.” Marlon sat down on one of the chairs and a pile of dust shot up and swarmed his face. He coughed loudly and Louis stopped his playing for a moment.
“You okay? Getting choked up because you lost the joke off?”
Louis’s words made Marlon look over with a competitive expression. “Ha, you wish,” Marlon coughed loudly for another moment before he took a deep breath.
Louis studied his best friend for a moment to make sure he was really okay before he began to play the piano again. His fingers danced around on the keys, creating a beautiful, playful melody that was only partially lost due to the untuned piano.
Marlon listened and smiled softly as he looked at the map. His mind quickly wandered back onto the safety of the school. He wondered if it was wise to start enforcing a tighter safe zone. After a few minutes Marlon decided against it. He wouldn’t make any major changes, at least not tonight. He doubted he’d be able to properly assess such a weighty decision at the end of the day when his energy was low. So instead he enjoyed his friend’s music.
After a little while Louis stopped his playing. “Y’know, maybe you should learn to play the piano,”
Louis’ words made Marlon glance up. “Yeah, well I bet I’d sound pretty shitty compared to you,”
“That's what practice is for. Surprising as it may be, I wasn’t always a piano master. Shocking, I know,”
Louis’ words made Marlon crack a smile. “I think I’ll stick to the guitar, thanks.”
“Well, I’m sure the day you track one down will come soon. With all the wild stuff we’ve found on some of these deadheads, I wouldn’t be surprised if we found one with a guitar,” Louis spun around on his piano bench to look at Marlon.
“That would be the dream. I miss playing guitar,” Marlon tilted his head back with a tired smile. “Well, it's getting late so I should head to bed.”
“Alright,” Louis rose up from his spot to sneak in some final pets for Rosie. He knelt down and whispered conspiratorially to the pitbull. “Make sure he actually gets some sleep, Rosie.”
“Hey, I can hear you,” Marlon looked down at his friends as he placed his hands on his hips.
“Damn, looks like we got caught, Rosie,” Louis’ gaze focused on the pitbull who was panting happily. “Alright, but seriously dude. Don’t push yourself,” Louis’ eyes locked with Marlon’s.
“I won’t,” Marlon smiled reassuringly and was relieved to see that his friend relaxed at those words before standing back up. Marlon continued to look at Louis for a moment before he walked forward and gave him a hug. Louis immediately returned it. The two of them held onto that hug for a moment before Marlon let go. He gave a final smile and wave, wishing Louis goodnight before heading off towards the headmaster’s office.
Marlon slowly walked down the hall, his eyes glancing around at all the graffiti that covered the walls as he walked up the stairs. Today had been a good day. He had been able to give his mind a few moments to get away from all the stress that being the leader brought, but now it was time to focus again.
Marlon glanced back at the music room as the sound of the piano filled the halls once more. He was really glad to have a friend like Louis. No, friend wasn’t the right word. Brother felt more fitting. Even though the world had gone to shit and life could be hell he knew he would always have Louis on his side. With that comforting thought putting Marlon’s heart at ease, he began to climb the stairs again, ready to continue his role as protector of the school.
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01x12 (part 1)
Season One Episode Twelve: Faith
A/N: Alright, a quick note. my computer is effed up. The updates may start to slow down unfortunately until I can figure out how to fix this mess but they’ll still come, I promise. I love hearing from you guys, so please keep the feedback coming! Let me know of any ideas you guys have for future episodes, storylines, ect and as always, please REBLOG if you enjoyed.
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: a hunt gone wrong, hospital beds, and another call to John.
`“What do you have those amped up to?” Sam asked as Dean rummaged through his trunk for the taser guns.
“100,000 volts,” Dean grinned, handing one to you and Sam and taking one for himself.
“Damn,” you commented, moving it around in your hands. You were careful with your
inspections and Dean filled his backpack up with any extra supplies you may need but truly, this was the one and only thing that could actually kill this thing.
“Yeah, I want this rawhead extra freakin’ crispy,” Dean mumbled and then looked at you, pointing the butt of his taser gun at you and dancing it between you and Sam. He was really only talking to you and you knew that. “Remember, you’ve only got one shot with these things, so you better make it count.”
“Yeah, I remember,” you mumbled with a little attitude laced in your voice at his reminder. You accidentally fire one of these prematurely once and you’ll never live it down. Dean closed the trunk to the Impala and you snuck your way into the old, creaky, house. It seemed to be abandoned for the most part, the floors hardly kept up with, garbage everywhere. You made your way to the basement, guns pointed and flashlights ready.
It was quiet until it wasn’t and there was a bang coming from one of the walls. All three of your flashlights instantly went to the noise and you crept closer to it. On the count of three, Dean pulled open the little door that you assumed led to a little crawlspace. You jumped when he opened it but relief flooded you when you saw it was two little kids.
One boy and one girl, shaking with their knees pulled to their chest. “Is it still here?” Sam asked, loosely looking over them for any obvious injuries. The boy nodded to his question and you gestured for them to stand up and get out of the crawlspace.
“Grab your sister’s hand. We’re gonna get you out of here,” Dean said. You put your hand on their backs, carefully walking them over to the stairs with Sam and Dean guarding your back. You and the kids made it to the landing but Sam’s groan was too loud in your ear and then there was a thud and some screaming and Sam tumbled down the stairs. “SAM!” You and Dean both called out for him. Dean shot his taser gun in the direction that he must have seen this thing but he missed.
Sam quickly got up and ran back up the stairs to you, tossing his taser gun at Dean. “Take this!” He ordered. Dean caught it easily, nodding towards you and his brother before you disappeared behind the corner and ran out of the house. Sam told you to stay put, guarding the entrance to the house while he secured the girls in the car.
You couldn’t hear much coming from the basement but you were anxiously waiting. Dean could handle himself was the mantra that you repeated over and over again while your leg shook in anticipation. “I’m gonna go back down there!” You called for Sam. He didn’t say anything, just waved a hand at you to give you the go ahead and you whipped around, running back down the stairs trying not to make too much noise but the second you saw Dean lying in the corner of the basement, unconscious, you ran.
You could feel a pulse on your fingertips but you didn’t know if it was his or just yours from your heart beating so quickly. He wouldn’t wake up, no matter how much you tried to shake him awake or slap his cheeks or begged him to. You knew you couldn’t carry him up the stairs alone and it felt like an eternity, you sitting there, checking for pulses on his neck and his wrists while crying out for Sam until he eventually showed up. He ran to your side, doing all the same steps that you just did until he grabbed him and helped you carry him to the car.
Getting the kids to safety was your first mission but it felt insignificant to you as you cradled Dean’s head in your lap in the front seat of the Impala. You tried not to cry now that you weren’t alone and you didn’t want to freak the kids out so you sniffled to yourself quietly until the kids got out of the car and then Sam and then Dean to take him into the hospital. It wasn’t until you were left alone in the car while Sam delivered him to the ER that you let yourself really, really cry. Like snot shooting out of your nose, not being able to tell the difference between snot and tears on the back of your hand, whole body shaking kind of cry. When you were done and your eyes were bloodshot and your nose was rosy, you went in to join Sam.
You and Sam were at the reception area, trying to figure out how to pay for this mess when the lady gave you a solemn look, “there doesn’t seem to be any insurance on file.” Sam mumbled a few words to himself, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket. He was just as shaken up as you, maybe even more but he was handling it much better. You hadn’t seen him cry but that didn’t mean he wasn’t and he handed the lady a credit card - stolen. “Okay, mister Berkovitz,” she said, reading the name on the card.
You looked over your shoulder at the policemen waiting, watching, staring at you. You pulled on Sam’s jacket after the lady went to run the card and made your way to the policemen. They gave you another solemn look and you were already tired of all the pity looks you were receiving from people. You wanted to be left alone. “We can, uh, finish this up later,” the policeman offered.
“No, it’s okay,” Sam told them, shoving his hands in his jacket pocket. “We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood and our windows were rolled down. We heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped and ran inside,” he explained the fake version of it all. The civilian version it.
“And found the kids in the basement?” The officer finished, you and Sam both nodded. “Well thank god that you did,” he said, offering you a proud smile. This was one of the more friendlier encounters with the police you’ve had in the past few years and you were disappointed that it was under such grave circumstances.
You heard a door opening from behind you and you excused yourself from the officers, Sam quickly following. The policemen yelled a thank you down the hall as you ran up to the doctor. “Is he-” You started but the doctor held out a hand, suggesting that you calm down. You took two deep breaths and then the doctor smiled.
“He’s resting,” he said.
“And?” You pushed.
“The electrocution triggered a heart attack - pretty massive, I’m afraid. His heart is damaged,” the doctor explained. You felt like your heart was damaged hearing that news. You felt Sam’s body tense up.
“How damaged?” Sam asked and you braced yourself for the worst news possible. You could see it in the doctor's eyes that that was coming. You wrapped your arm around Sam’s, leaning into him for comfort.
“We’ve done all that we can. We just need to try and keep him comfortable at this point but I’d give him a couple weeks at most, maybe a month,” he explained. You thought that you had cried all of your tears but more threatened to come. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you thought that you were going to vomit all of the doctor’s white coat.
“No. There’s gotta be more that you can do,” Sam protested, his face falling and there they were: the tears. “Some kind of treatment,” Sam suggested.
“We can’t work miracles. I really am sorry.” Your lips parted and you could feel the tears streaking down your face and you felt paralyzed in that hallway with that doctor but Sam pushed you off of him and pushed past the doctor and into Dean’s room where the TV was lightly humming.
When you entered the room, Dean was mumbling something about daytime TV with his raspy voice that cut deep into your skin and left you bruised. You popped up behind Sam, who sighed and let out a sharp exhale. “We talked to your doctor,” he said.
“That fabric softener teddy bear. I wanna hunt that little bitch down,” Dean said, pursing out his lips as he changed the channel of the TV.
“Dean,” you warned. He rolled his eyes, putting the remote down on his lap.
“Looks like you guys are gonna have to leave town without me,” he said bluntly.
“What are you talking about? We’re not gonna leave you here,” you said, stepping out from behind Sam’s back, getting braver and braver but it was hard to see him in this condition. It was heart wrenching.
“You better take care of that car,” he warned. “I swear I’ll haunt your ass.”
“I don’t think that’s funny,” Sam said and you agreed but you bit your lip to prevent yourself from smiling.
“Oh come on, it’s a little bit funny.” You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh and Sam smiled, looking down at his feet. The room fell silent then and Dean let out a sigh. “Look, Sammy, what can I say, man? It’s a dangerous gig and I drew the short straw. That’s it, end of story.”
“Don’t talk like that, alright? We’ve still got options,” Sam pleaded with his brother. You knew just as well as Dean that there were no options but Sam would play the devil’s advocate until Dean died. He would always beat the horse too thin. Pray for a miracle that would never come.
“What options? You got burial or cremation,” Dean deadpanned.
“Hey,” you warned, shooting him a glare. He licked his lips, raised his eyebrows at you apologetically and then sighed again.
“I know it’s not easy but I’m gonna die. And you can’t stop it,” Dean said. He was the first one to really say it out loud. In those words. Sam’s face was scrunched up and red and you saw the tears pooling in his eyelid but you knew he wouldn’t let them fall around Dean. You put your hand on his forearm briefly and then sat on the edge of Dean’s bed.
“Watch me.”
The next few days were spent searching the internet and calling everyone in John’s journals to figure out a way to fix this, but Sam wasn’t sleeping and he wasn’t crying and you felt like maybe he was holding back for you because even when you were hiding in the bathroom, waiting for him to do something while he was alone - there was nothing. You couldn’t even hear him crying in the shower.
You were perched on the edge of the bed, the laptop on your lap while Sam tried John’s phone. No answer. “Hey dad, it’s Sam. Uh… You probably won’t even get this, but, uh, it’s Dean,” he started, his voice shaking and cracking. You closed the laptop and pushed it to the side. “He’s sick and the doctors say there’s nothing they can do.” He paused, his face scrunching up in pain. “But hey,” he chuckled, “they don’t know the things we know, right? So don’t worry, cuz I’m, uh, gonna do whatever it takes to get him better.” Sam kept hitting his ankle that was crossed over his knee and playing with the frayed ends. “All right, just wanted you to know.” Sam hung up and you were angry at John for not answering and not being here and making Sam do this alone.
“Hey,” you whispered, putting your hand on his shoulder. He jumped at your touch, almost like he forgot that you were even there but he softened when he looked at your face. You gave him a weak smile. “We’ll fix this, okay?” You promised him. It wasn’t something you could promise or that you should have promised but you did it anyway to make him feel better.
He pushed off the bed and started to pace around the room, running his hands through his dirty hair. He looked like such a mess. You could almost see the anger building up inside of him on his face. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, the way his lips were tight against each other. Sam turned around and in one swift motion, he cleaned the table clean of all the magazines and take out menus that littered it.
You jumped to your feet and put your hands on his biceps, coaching him to look at you. Begging him to look you in the eyes. When he finally did, you gave him another weak smile. “Breathe, okay? Please?” You asked. Sam licked his lips and then took a deep breath, nodding at you but when he let it out, he shook his head and crashed his body into yours.
You wrapped your arms around him and he squeezed you so tight you thought your head was going to pop off but you didn’t mind because that was Sam and you were willing to hold him for as long as he needed or wanted you to but a knock at the door broke the moment.
You sat him down on the bed and got the door yourself. “Dean?” His skin was pale and he was sweating even though it was cold outside and his body was pressed against the doorframe. “What the hell are you doing here?” You scolded him for leaving but the smile on Sam’s face when he saw him, made you regret it.
“I checked myself out,” he smirked, limping into the room, holding himself up with the chair.
“Are you crazy?” Sam asked but his face was filled with relief and joy that his brother was here with him. You knew just how crazy it made him think about Dean in that hospital bed, alone, watching daytime TV that he hated.
“I wasn’t going to die in a hospital, especially where the nurses aren’t even hot,” he joked as you closed the door behind him and helped him sit down in the chair. Neither of you laughed at his joke, but Dean still thought it was funny and he chuckled.
“You know, this whole “I laugh in the face of death” thing is crap. I can see right through it,” Sam told him, trying to scold or be serious but he was still smiling a little bit.
“Yeah, whatever, dude,” Dean rolled his eyes and adjusted his jacket so that he was comfortable and you couldn’t imagine that he was but he was putting on a brave face despite the fact that he looked like he was dying. “Have you even slept? You look worse than me,” he teased.
“He hasn’t,” you answered for Dean but giving Sam a glare. You had been begging him the last few days to just get a few moments of sleep and you would do the research for him but he insisted on staying up until he found a solution for his brother. Even as you slept, you could feel his body stirring next to you.
“I’ve been scouring the internet for the last three days. Been calling every contact in dad’s journal,” Sam explained, sitting down on the bed across from his brother. You sat next to him, pulling out the laptop and opening it up. There weren’t many solutions out there, but the one that you had so far, was pulled up on the computer.
“For what?” Dean groaned, visibly uncomfortable.
“For a way to help you. One of dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. He told me about a guy in Nebraska, a specialist,” Sam explained. You pulled up all the reports of the guy that you could find online, up, spinning the computer to show Dean. All the articles you could find showed nothing but good things. This guy healing people from even the brink of death.
Dean scanned the screen and shook his head, “you guys aren’t gonna let me die in peace, are you?” He asked.
“We’re not gonna let you die, period. We’re going.”
tagged: @matchamendes @stuckupstucky @sillydecoy @kaelyn-lobrutto24@liztorr1212 @icanreadbookstoo @rachael-mae @jessewa26
#supernatural#supernatural rewrite#supernatural imagine#supernatural blurb#supernatural one shot#spn#spn rewrite#spn imagine#spn blurb#spn one shot#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam x reader#boyfriend sam#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#reader insert#season one episode twelve#01x12#faith
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HAWKINS 9
i just finished writing this right now, it’s fresh from the oven my feels
pairing: mike wheeler x oc (steve’s sister)
warning: lighthearted swearing, some lumax feels iM
2.4k words
masterlist
GROSS!
Stacy didn’t really ask for Steve to drive her to the arcade but it’s not like another option is available. Her parents aren’t keen on cashing out on a new bicycle for her to travel around in since they’re planning on getting her her own car anyway, they‘re just waiting for the right moment and maybe not until Stacy gets her driver’s license for Hawkins. So for the mean time, Stacy enjoys the free rides in the company of her older brother who seems to find driving her around an excitable agenda.
As Steve clutches the gear shift to pull up right in front of the arcade, he tilts his body to ask his sister, “Do you need change for the games, quarters, or?”
“Are ya offering me free money?” Stacy grins, chewing along to the pink gum in her mouth.
“Yeah, no, get out.” Steve huffs, facing front once again with his left hand on the steering wheel.
“Grumpy ass,” Stacy mumbles to herself, pressing the seatbelt to unwrap it from her body. One foot at a time, she launches herself out of Steve’s car and turns to him since he has a few more words to leave before he does.
Steve’s eyes strain themselves to look at his sister against the obnoxiously bright neon lights on the arcade sign. “I’ll pick you up at 7.”
“9.” Who in the world plays arcade games for just one hour?
“Stacy—“
“8.”
Steve purses his lips before giving in, “Okay, fine. Be safe.”
Stacy stands by the entrance, watching her brother’s car weave through the ongoing traffic on the main road before she enters the dark building illuminated by colorful lightbulbs attached to the game machines. It takes her a while to find her friends in the busy crowd, noting to herself that Friday nights in the summer sure do promise an influx of prepubescents. She does find them crowding a Centipede game machine. As she wiggles her way past short and long bodies alike to get to Max, a tall boy munching on Cheetos blocks her path.
“Are you 18?” He asks monotonously, orange fingers weaving their way out of the sticky bag of chips.
Stacy looks around and catches Will’s eyes who tilts his head in question of the scenario Stacy has caught herself in. Returning her gaze toward the lanky brunette, she replies, “No...”She meant to say it in a duh tone but it ended up sounding more of a question.
“Aha! You’re not from here!” The tall boy prods. The more that Stacy is forced in his presence, the more that she picks up some... details about him like that his scent reminds Stacy of basements, the kind with atrocious ventilation that results to trapping of sweat inside the room due to the lack of windows or air vents. The older teenager derails her train of thoughts, “You have an accent.” He says it like he just decoded a million-dollar Math problem.
“Is he bothering you?” Dustin pops out of nowhere, head peeking out from behind the intrusive stranger. Stacy glances subtly at him, hopefully successfully sending pleas through her eyes which Dustin picks up on thankfully. “You’ll have to excuse him, Stacy. He’s not exposed all that much to the opposite sex.”
“Good to know you’re finally getting out of Nancy’s hair.” Lucas scoffs.
“Whatever.” The creepy teenager mutters with gritted teeth before pushing past a few other kids to get to the cashier counter.
Stacy turns back to her friends and gives them a small smile as they all walk back in front of the game machine. “Do you know how to play?” Dustin asks her as she watches Max strategically press buttons in patterns that don’t make quite sense to her.
“Not really.” She shrugs, looking at Dustin before gazing around the arcade and spotting single basketball games with hoops lined along a wall. “I can play that though.” She points to the other side of the room, catching Dustin’s, Lucas’, Will’s, and even Mike’s—who was busy watching Max play— attention.
“Basketball? We’ve never tried that before.” Lucas mentions. He and his friends have practically lived in the arcade for days on end yet none of them has ever touched a ball from there. Sure, they’ve joked about playing it before but no one ever really stuck through and tried it.
“Well,” Stacy casually shoves both her hands inside the back pockets of her jeans, “I usually play with a team.” She adds all the while glancing at Max to catch her reaction which by the way, is just a determined look in her face as she continues to aggressively press buttons. Stacy only ever came to the arcade because she offered to be there for Max when she deals with telling Lucas what she feels, specifically what troubles her.
“Yes!” Max yells, throwing her tired hands up in celebration. “Suck it, Wheeler!” She smirks at the poor boy, knowing Mike wouldn’t be able to overthrow her at the top of the leaderboard. “Stacy!” She greets excitedly, wrapping her arms around the dark-haired girl, squeezing her slightly before letting go.
“Stacy wants to play the basketball.” Dustin word-vomits, pointing at the hoops.
“What!” Stacy reacts, “I just said I could play, not that I wanted to! I don’t want to shame myself really,” she says as an excuse while shaking her hands in front of her.
Dustin and Lucas weren’t listening anyway as the two of them literally drag Stacy in front of the game, excited to see what she’s got. The boys standing near the basketball game machines all quirk an eye at the unfamiliar girl with pink cheeks looking a little bit distracted as one of her friends input a quarter inside the machine.
“Kick their ass, Stac.” Max giggles, pushing Stacy closer to the edge of the game machine. Stacy looks back at Max with a freaked out look on her face but she’s forced to play as the countdown under the score lights go from 3 to 2 and to 1.
Stacy feels a little underwhelmed at the fact that she’s literally planted on the floor, unmoving like the basketball hoop in front of her. It’s nothing like an actual game at all, especially that the hoop is not as high up as actual boards in a game but she lives through it. Stages 1 and 2 pass her by a breeze until the hoops actually started moving horizontally which weren’t much but it’s then that she actually started enjoying the game.
From behind, her friends watch her, lowkey impressed as she hauls her 5’2 body upwards and slightly forwards to shoot every single ball, except for one when her worn- out striped sweater was pulled out from being tucked under her jeans and she felt slightly conscious.
“A-right, it’s taking too long,” she laughs, discontinuing the game and walking towards her friends instead. She feels guilty that they’re all just waiting for her to finish the game when they could be playing something else. Red lights flash 304 behind her until the countdown finishes and the tickets pile a little on the floor. “You can have it, thanks.” She smiles at Dustin since he was the one who offered a quarter for her game anyway.
“Sweet.” Dustin grins widely, plucking the long trail of tickets and gushing with Lucas about it. They were thinking of getting that kazoo from the prizes stand just so they could annoy their friends with it.
“We practically rule this place, huh?” Max jokes, bumping shoulders with Stacy who chuckles along with her.
Stacy looks around a little, noting that Dustin and Lucas are still busy with the tickets and Mike and Will are simply standing, trying to make sense of what they should do next. “Have you talked to him?” She asks with a hushed voice.
Max looks down on the floor, as if her sneakers are the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Not really.” She mumbles.
“Hey,” Stacy says softly, “You don’t have to do it right now, yeah? I don’t want you to feel like I forced you into this. It was just a suggestion.” She explains. Max nods, releasing a big puff of breath she didn’t know she was holding.
Stacy smiles lightly, “You’re eavesdropping.” She says to no one in particular, but she does have one person in mind.
“H-huh?” Mike straightens his stance, cheeks flushing at being caught redhanded. Will glances at his friend, then at Stacy, then at Max, then back to Mike, looking as confused as ever. “I wasn’t,” Mike says sharply in feeble defense.
Stacy smiles wider, finding the situation and maybe Mike Wheeler’s rosy cheeks funny. “Didn’t say it was you, bud. But if the shoe fits..”
This time, it’s Max’s turn to mirror Will’s confused side glances. What the hell?, she mentally asks herself. Wasn’t it just four days ago that these two were like trained savages coming for each others necks? The question doesn’t ever stop coming through her mind. They all pile up in her head.
However, the shrill sound of the kazoo cuts its way through the awkward tension in the group. “Oh hell no,” Mike mutters to himself, already hitting his forehead at the upcoming migraine he would be having the near weeks. His friends and objects that make sounds don’t really mesh well, he knows that so well after Lucas tried to learn how to play the clarinet. Mike felt a little relieved after he lost interest.
“Why do these two look like someone tried to explain quantum physics to them?” Lucas furrows his eyebrows, stretching an arm to gesture at Max and Will.
“Anyway,” Stacy claps, “Which should you play next?” She asks the group, but none of them seem to want to play any more games. Neither do Lucas and Dustin who are both already satisfied with their new musical instrument and weapon of mass migraine, if not destruction.
“They’re selling cotton candy outside.” Will shrugs, inwardly craving the sweet snack.
Everyone else shrugs back, willing the entire friend group to haul ass outside in search of the cotton candy stand. It’s a few steps that they take as they all line up for the stand, using their excess coins to buy a stick of cotton candy.
In the windy chill of the night, Max, Lucas, Will, Dustin all sit on a curb in a line, nibbling through the sugar on stick, enjoying the company of each other. Max gives Lucas side-glances through her blue cotton candy every once in a while until Lucas himself started noticing.
“You okay, Max?” Lucas turns to her with a worried look on his face.
Max’s breath catches a little in her throat, “Huh?” She asks, taken a little off-guard. It’s been quite a while since Lucas asked her that. “Y-yeah.” She answers softly, smiling afterwards at the boy she has been crushing on for almost a year now.
“Okay, but I’ll be here to listen in case. Okay?” Lucas smiles back at her, already forgetting the cotton candy in his hand.
“Okay.” Max replies with a little nod. Just as she takes a bite from her snack, the boy next to her sneaks in a quick kiss on her cheek.
“Gross.” Will announces as a joke, biting through his own cotton candy with a little smile on his face. He’s feeling better lately, and hasn’t had an episode since the last one which is a good sign. It’s enough to make him giddy, but with the added sugar, the boy is jumpy with energy.
Meanwhile, Dustin can’t help but wonder what’s taking Mike and Stacy so long. The two were left lining up by the cotton candy stand just a few meters away while the rest of the group sat down by the pavement. At this point, Dustin thought the two have already murdered each other, but as his eyes look around the area, he spots the two conversing just a few steps away from the cotton candy stand, two colorful fluffs of candy forgotten in their respective hands. Unfortunately for Dustin, he can’t hear them but he does pick up the relaxed vibe coming from Mike’s body language. He then, is as confused as Max and Will were a while ago. It’s like seeing fire and ice interacting so comfortably.
What Dustin can’t hear from afar is Mike asking Stacy, “So... Have you noticed anything from them? Will is really quiet but I very possibly believe he can’t harm a fly let alone El—“
“That’s the same for the rest of ‘em, Mike. How do you think they’d feel when they find out you thought they could do something so horrible?” Stacy tries to guilt trip him, but Mike’s head is too clouded and honestly a little distracted from the fruity scent he smells distinctly from Stacy.
“I’m on their side.” Mike appeals.
Stacy frowns, “It doesn’t look like it, Mike.” She takes a deep breath, “Keeping secrets from friends never end well.”
“Okay, Will the wise—“
“What?”
“Oh, it’s an inside joke,” he waves a hand off to dismiss the idea. “Don’t change the topic! It’s like you’re not even trying to watch over them.”
“What, do you expect me to crouch around them with a magnifying glass in hand?” Stacy chuckles. She’s observant at best and notices even those she doesn’t want to notice.
Mike glares at her then rolls his eyes ever so slightly. “You don’t need to crouch, you’re already short.”
“Wow!” Stacy exclaims at the banter. “Look who’s talking! You’re like 5’4, you fucking troll!” Stacy would have appeared offended, but Mike finds her outburst funny anyway.
“I’m way taller than that.”
“Not as tall as your ego.” Stacy barks back, but at this point it’s all in fun’s name. Stacy joking and playing along with Mike Wheeler’s antics? The world must be coming to an end.
Silence follows the two teens like a shadow as they walk so casually slow to where their friends are. “Stacy?” Mike calls.
“Hmm?” Stacy hums, distracted by the sickly sweet candy in her mouth.
While looking down at their feet tapping through the pavement, Vans and Puma next to each other, Mike says lowly in almost a whisper that Stacy almost doesn’t catch, “Promise you’ll try.”
Try to what? Stacy has no idea at all. Still, she finds herself responding after a while just before reaching their friends chatting in a comfortable line across the sidewalk, “Promise.”
#well shit dont break promises sis#hawkins series#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things series#mike wheeler imagine#steve harrington’s sister#mike wheeler x oc#mike wheeler x reader#eleven#will byers#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#max mayfield#mike wheeler#bestfriend!max#finn wolfhard#joe keery#finn wolfhard imagine
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“okay i get that there are no seats left in this cafe but like i am trying to read here no you cannot have this chair my feet are using it thank you very much please get out of my face now” au
for @nyxfox
Lothiriel can only blink in horror at the sight that greets her.
The usually quiet cafe is jam packed. Every table is full. Every chair occupied.
And there’s not a familiar face in sight.
Though, to be fair, she’s fairly short, which makes craning over the press of bodies nigh impossible. She thinks she might spot Sam’s riotously curling hair somewhere near the back, but she also thinks she sees Rosie Cotton’s equally curly head beside him, and she wouldn’t interrupt that for all the world.
Finally, after dodging a few elbows and nearly ending up sitting on a table surrounded by what appears to be an entire rugby team, she spots an empty seat.
And a familiar face.
Glad that the stuffiness of the cafe has already put some color in her cheeks, Lothiriel manages to wind her way over to where Eomer is sitting. Normally, she can barely string two coherent sentences in front of Eowyn’s obscenely attractive brother, but desperation to sit and start studying for her final makes her usual tongue-tiedness seem ridiculous.
(Alright, it’s ridiculous all the time. If only he weren’t so good-looking. Or nice, underneath his gruff exterior. And so good to Eowyn, only mildly terrorizing to Faramir, and able to manage all three of her brothers. There’s good reason why she’s had a crush on him for the better part of two years.)
“Eomer,” she says, willing herself not to flush when his eyes flick up to meet hers. “Can I sit?”
Lothiriel nods at the chair where he currently has his feet propped up; it’s rather inconsiderate, come to think of it, when the shop is so crowded, but she knows how much he values his privacy.
He stares at her for a moment, unmoving. “There’s nowhere else?”
Crush or not, there’s no reason for him to be so rude! “Does it look like there’s anywhere else?” She asks, a little more snark than she usually displays around him seeping into her tone.
Eomer blinks at her, as if he’s never seen her before. “I’m comfortable.”
“Oh, for Valar’s sake,” she groans, because she needs to do well on this final and she’s tired of sitting in her flat while Eowyn and Faramir coo at each other, “just shift your feet over a bit.”
He does, albeit grudgingly, giving her a tiny amount of space to squeeze herself into. The upside? His feet have made the chair warm. The downside? He’s obscenely tall on top of being criminally good-looking, which means her feet are nowhere close to reaching the chair he’s currently watching her warily out of.
“I’m not going to bother you,” she finally grumbles, after she’s successfully extracted her book from her bag and gotten settled. “I just need to study and I couldn’t stay in the flat anymore.”
(Honestly, she’s a bit hurt by his reaction. They’ve known each other for years, and while she’d be hard-pressed to call them friends, she certainly doesn’t think she’s ever done something to make him dislike her.)
He nods, turning his attention back to his own book.
And Lothiriel buries her nose in her textbook, willing herself to understand the material she feels as if she could recite from memory. She doesn’t mean to slump lower in the chair, doesn’t mean to be lulled into a daze by the low murmur of the other cafe-goers’ conversations, or the warmth of the nearby fire--she’s just so tired, and surely no one would mind if she shut her eyes for just a few minutes..
Eomer looks up to find Lothiriel asleep in the chair across from him, head slumped over onto its arm and her book dangling precariously from her fingers.
He feels an absurd rush of fondness before irritation follows swiftly after. Lothiriel’s been a puzzle since the moment he’s met her. Eowyn had had nothing but good things to say about Faramir’s youngest cousin: how sweet she was, how funny, how genuine. But the girl he’s seen the past few years has been anything but, when it comes to him. Bema, it’s as if she’s scared of him. Always the first to ease out of a conversation he joins, rarely speaking directly to him if she does get roped into staying...none of it makes sense.
He’s seen her with her brothers, with Eowyn, with Faramir. Helle, even Eothain knows a more outgoing Lothiriel than he does.
To say he’d been surprised that she’d spoken to him, let alone all but demanded the chair, would be an understatement. There’d been nothing of her usual silence, her wariness when she’d dropped herself into the chair as if this were a normal event.
It doesn’t follow.
“Well, well,” comes a familiar voice, “isn’t this cozy.”
Eomer turns his head to glare at his best friend.
Eothain grins back at him.
“She didn’t give me much choice,” Eomer grumbles. He considers getting up, to move away to stave off whatever inane--and completely inappropriate comments--Eothain is bound to make, but there’s no way to do so without jostling Lothiriel out of her sleep. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she needs it.
Eothain snorts. “I’d imagine not. Lothiriel must have been truly desperate to sit by your feet, Eomer.”
He can’t help but bristle at at that; even Eothian seems to know the reason she’s so reserved around him. “She could have gone anywhere else.”
The other man looks bemused at his suddenly harsh tone. “I only meant it must have taken her quite a bit of courage--”
“Courage?” Eomer spits. “Because I’m such a frightening, crass, uncivilized Northman?”
Eothain’s expression morphs from confusion to exasperation. “Bema’s balls, Eomer. Is that why you think she’s so shy around you?”
It is, of course it is, though deep down he knows enough about Lothiriel to know she’d never think such a thing. Eowyn is her best friend and flatmate, and she and Eothain are as thick as thieves. She has as much problem with them being from Rohan as she does with Legolas’ archery competitions, or Gimli being a jeweler, which is to say, none at all.
“You really can be thick headed sometimes,” Eothain is saying, running a hand through his unruly red hair. “She can scarcely get two words out around you because she fancies you, you great tit.”
Eomer can feel his mouth fall open into a gawk. Lothiriel, fancy him? In his experience, that would require actually getting to know and spend time with the person one was interested in, rather than running for the hills any time they so much as looked at you. “Right,” he says.
Eothain rolls his eyes. “I am right, thank you very much. She’s liked you for years, to listen to Wilfled tell it, but has herself so convinced of your general indifference that she wouldn’t dare say a word about it. Not to Eowyn, and certainly not to you.”
“You’ve lost it,” he mutters, but the more he thinks about it...oh, Bema, it does make sense. It has been shyness, not dislike, that had made her so reluctant to speak, and all of those blushes hadn’t been born from aggravation, but embarrassment…
“You like her, too,” Eothain informs him, as if Eomer needs anything else to digest at the moment. “Else it wouldn’t have bothered you so much to think she was afraid of you, or some shit--”
Lothiriel’s book slips from her lip fingers at the most inopportune moment, falling to the floor with a loud smack. She jumps, head shooting up and eyes opening in an almost comically quick motion.
Her eyes dart to his, then to his feet--where one of her arms has been wrapped around for the better part of twenty minutes--then to Eothain, who Eomer can just make out offering her a jaunty wave. The blush that floods her face is a familiar sight, by now, but there’d be no reason for it to be out of irritation, or disquiet. It’s sheer, unadulterated embarrassment that has her stuttering out an apology and starting to shove her book back into her bag.
“Lothiriel,” he says, willing his voice to be as gentle as possible. “It’s fine. I should be the one apologizing.”
Her eyes--wide and dark and impossibly pretty--flick back up to his. “For what?”
“For not giving you the chair in the first place,” he says. “And for acting like an utter arse.”
Eomer ignores Eothain’s gleeful snort.
“I--it’s alright,” she says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t really give you much choice on whether you wanted to share the chair or not--”
“Oh, don’t let him out of this one, Lothiriel,” Eothain interrupts. “Man owes you a coffee, at least, for not moving his giant feet out of your way.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s such an utterly endearing expression that he’s too distracted by to say anything, until he flinches at the the sudden dig of Eothain’s elbow into his side, accompanied by a loudly hissed, “Dinner, ask her to dinner, you great idiot.”
Lothiriel blushes anew, shooting a glare in Eothain’s direction. “Coffee is just fine.”
Eothain grins, unapologetic. “I’d say both. Milk it for all it’s worth.”
“Eothain,” they both groan at him, and he holds his hands up in a placating gesture. He ambles off not long after, leaving them smiling somewhat helplessly at each other.
“So,” he finally says, “start with the coffee?”
She nods, still blushing, but there’s no mistaking the pleased surprise on her face. Bema, he’s been such an idiot.
(Eothain, unsurprisingly, gives an absolutely mortifying toast at their wedding.
“You thought I was afraid of you?” Lothiriel asks, incredulous.
“It seemed like a possibility at the time,” he grumbles, shifting a little so she can balance more comfortably in his lap.
She rolls her eyes at him, leaning down to kiss him. “You really are an idiot.”
“You married me anyways.”
“True,” and at this, she grins, “and the only one who should be afraid of you is Eothain.”
“Clearly not enough,” he grumbles.)
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Coming Back for You 4
A/N: no real warnings for this chapter. Big shout out to @jannalionheart, @tas898, and @sherala007 for always being so helpful!!! I appreciate you 3 more than you know!
Words: 4, 588
Pairings: Gabriel x OFC, Dean x Cas x OFC
Link to previous chapter 3
__________
The next time Rosalie opened her eyes she was back in her bedroom at the bunker. Sitting up quickly in the bed she looked around the room seeing no sign of Gabriel. Had he really beamed her back to the bunker over that argument? It sure looked like it!
Getting out of bed, Rosalie opened the door and walked down the hallway. She stopped in the doorway of the library where Zoe stood with a book in her hand beside Cas while Sam was in front of the computer. Dean had one hand over his face clearly exhausted.
“Son of a bitch! Where did that damn archangel take her!? We should have stabbed him when we had the chance.”
“Would have saved me some heartache.”
All four sets of eyes turned to Rosalie. Zoe tossed the book over her should nearly hitting Sam in the head as she ran over to Rosalie pulling her into a tight hug.
“Rose! We have been so worried!”
Cas walked over awkwardly hugging Rosalie and Zoe while Dean and Sam stood. After a moment Cas backed off but Zoe didn’t let go of Rosalie.
“Uh Zoe you are hurting my face.”
Rosalie choked out. Zoe quickly let go but felt her mouth drop when she realized the condition that Rosalie was in.
“Rose you are human….what the hell did Gabriel do to you? Why?!”
Rosalie shrugged, trying to fight off the tears.
“Because he’s crazy? I don’t know. He was on some kick of knocking me up but we had a fight last night. Apparently we both have closet hated each other for a long time and finally admitted it. I don’t know where the fuck he is…don’t really care either.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look clearly shocked to hear the venom coming out of Rosalie’s mouth when it came to Gabriel. Cas tilted his head.
“Rosalie, what happened?”
Rosalie sighed.
“We both said things we honestly didn’t mean except this time…I don’t think it will ever be fixed. Gabriel is doing what he thinks is right by working with Raphael and I am not going to beg him to change his mind. Bonded or not….I give up. Excuse me.”
Such a lonely day
And it’s mine
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Should be banned
It’s day that I can’t stand
The most loneliest day of my life
The most loneliest day of my life
Such a lonely day
Shouldn’t exist
It’s day that Ill never miss
Such a lonely day
And it’s mine
The most loneliest day of my life
And if you go, I wanna go with you
And if you die, I wanna die with you
Take your hand and walk away
Almost 5 years later…
Gabriel sat with a magazine on his lap. The morning had been relatively quiet. The key word was had been as Raphael walked into the room looking more smug than normal. He looked at his younger brother with a cold smile. Gabriel’s golden eyes finally rolled up.
“What do you want?”
Gabriel snapped. Raphael laughed coldly.
“So I was out observing some of our lesser kind.”
Gabriel snorted as he turned the page of the magazine.
“Slow morning Rappel?”
Raphael raised an eyebrow. He was positively giddy to let his news come to light. Gabriel’s sarcastic demeanor was about to change.
“I saw Rosalie.”
Gabriel’s golden eyes rolled up at that just as Raphael expected they would. He looked at Raphael for a moment before looking back down to the magazine in his lap.
“Oh?”
Raphael chuckled.
“Drop the act Gabriel. You are still so in love with her it is pathetic. She has a child…your child.”
Gabriel’s whole face went stoic as he looked up.
“The hell? And how do you know that?”
Raphael rolled his eyes.
“Drop the act brother. I could sense a half archangel nephilim from a mile away.”
Gabriel meanwhile, was trying to keep his panicking to a minimum. The last thing he wanted was for Raphael to pick up on his true feelings. How the hell did he miss this? Had he been so focused on putting Rosalie out of his life that he missed feelings that she had to be shooting in his direction? Now he had a child that he knew nothing about until his mad man of a brother brought it up.
“Funny you couldn’t find your own child if your life depended on it.”
Gabriel said coldly. Raphael raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t need to know my child. If I found it useful to be a father or beneficial for me to have her in my company it would have happened by now.”
Gabriel muttered a few curse words under his breath. He still felt bad for Natasha. Even knowing that she really was no child. She had kept her age young to appear a child so that she would be less useful to Raphael the poor kid deserved to have both parents. Gabriel felt even worse at that thought. If anyone deserved a hypocrite award a the moment it was him. He secretly hated Raphael for the way he did Natasha yet here Gabriel was doing the same thing to his own child.
“I’m turning into dad.”
Gabriel thought miserably. Raphael was busy watching Gabriel.
“This whole thing…you being on my side…has been one of you tricks hasn’t it? I think I know what has happened. You had been secretly seeing Rosie and I am guessing turned her human to keep her safe but you totally didn’t expect on her being pregnant. Then again I wouldn’t put it past you to intentionally want to knock her up. You thought it would getting one step ahead of me. What happened Gabriel? Clearly you knew nothing about Rosalie’s little condition. If you did there would be no way you would have let her out of your sight. Its pathetic really. Your and Rosalie’s relationship has been a nothing but a big joke in heaven. You slept with anyone that you could have gotten your hands on while your mate waited for you like some pathetic puppy. To beat all you go and leave her for a millions of years then get back together like nothing happened. Rosalie having your child and you bailing is just the icing on the fucked up cake that is your life. Fortunate for all of us Lucifer took pity on poor little Rosalie and gave her the grace that you took back. Its funny Lucifer just could stand the thoughts of your child being without her mother. I would have let her die. I have to say however, I am very interested in that child of yours. My child is useless being only half human and half archangel. Your child however, is going to have angel on both sides regardless of the fact Rosalie was a human when the child was conceived. The child will have more angel than human including your DNA. This could be the weapon that I have been looking for.”
Gabriel wasn’t for sure when he stopped listening to Raphael and blasted his older brother across the room and through a wall.
“You aren’t touching Rosalie or the kid! I mean it Raphael. If you touch a hair on their heads I will bring everything down. I will destroy you worse than I already plan to.”
Raphael pulled himself out of the remains of the hotel wall glowering at his little brother.
“I should have known that you were playing double agent. My suggestion to you is get to your little family and keep them safe because you won’t know when I will show up.”
Raphael vanished without another word leaving Gabriel standing motionless between a state of shock and fear….
Arriving in the bunker some time later Gabriel could only hope that Rose was safe. Being dark or not there was no way he would be able to live with himself if something happened to her. There was also the fact that his child was in existence. His plan of having the ultimate weapon was finally happening but the last thing he wanted at this moment was to use the kid as a weapon. It was wrong…it couldn’t happen. Gabriel sighed as he began to feel like himself….the real Gabriel again.
The library was quiet and looked abandoned. Gabriel looked around praying that everyone wasn’t away on a hunt. Surely Rosalie would have enough sense to not go with the Winchesters on a hunt with a kid. That would be a great way for his child to grow up! No father and going on hunts looking for stuff that scared the crap out of most people!
Before Gabriel could move to start looking around for any sign of life there was a small snap and a ring of holy fire ignited around him. Looking around annoyed that he was trapped, Gabriel looked around. He wanted to see who was being cheeky. His golden eyes finally focused on the shape of a small girl standing beside a table looking very proud of herself. Gabriel was no fool. He knew this was his daughter.
After prowling around through Sam’s mind from a distance, Gabriel had enough information on Rosalie and the child to know that they were safe…for the time being. He needed to get to them before Raphael made a move.
“Hey kid what are you doing? Didn’t anyone tell you not to play with matches?”
The little girl watched his with a smug smirk and batted her golden eyes at him. She didn’t move to say a word. Gabriel sighed.
“Do you talk? Oh wait, let me guess, your mother told you not to talk to strangers?”
His daughter nodded with a grin. Gabriel sighed realizing that he was getting nowhere.
“So what are you going to do kiddo? Keep me here until I die of boredom? Do you know who I am?”
The little girl nodded making her little pigtails bounce.
“You’re the guy stuck in the holy fire.”
Gabriel smiled.
“Great…you have a lovely sense of humor.”
Before Gabriel was able to say anything else a little boy that looked identical to his daughter came running in. Gabriel’s mouth dropped realizing that they were twins. He had twins! Gabriel rubbed his eyes making sure that he was seeing double. They were the perfect mixture of himself and Rosalie.
“Lily you got somebody this time.”
The boy commented looking at Gabriel closely.
“Yeah I did. Pretty good huh?”
Gabriel watched each the two slightly amused.
“So back to the guy in the holy fire…”
The two looked back to Gabriel with matching sets of golden eyes as Dean walked into the room freezing seeing Gabriel froze in the holy fire in addition to the little ones watching him with matching looks of curiosity. The protective side of Dean immediately went into high gear. He had spent the past few years thinking of way to keep the kids safe from their father now here he was.
“Lily did you do this?”
He asked calmly as the two latched onto his legs with happy grins. Lily nodded like nothing had happened.
“Yes I did.”
She said sweetly. Dean smirked looking back to Gabriel. The archangel had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking at Dean like he was ready to smite him.
“Liam, take your sister and go play. Do something that doesn’t involve letting animals loose in the bunker, setting stuff on fire, or trying to flush stuff down the toilet.”
Both children turned to walk our of the room. Liam turned.
“Uncle Dean can we ask Uncle Luci to come play with us?”
Dean shook his head.
“No, he breaks stuff. Go play with Cas he does almost anything you want to do.”
Liam looked at his sister with a shrug.
“Worth a shot. Come on sissy.”
When they were out of the room Dean turned walking in to the kitchen coming back with a fire extinguisher to put out the fire.
“Sorry about that. Lily seems to be turning into a pyromaniac. So are you like crazy….oh wait you were crazy anyway….let me rephrase that are you dark Gabriel or normal Gabriel? I just need to know if I should get ready to stab you or not.”
Gabriel glared at Dean.
“Try and stab me Dean-o see what happens to you.”
Dean shrugged.
“Dean, why are Liam and Lily talking about lighting the bunker on fire to trap a…”
Rosalie walked into the room but froze the moment she saw Gabriel standing in the room giving Dean an icy glare. She froze instantly seeing her ex only feet away. In the years that he had been away (again) Gabriel had barely changed. The only thing different was that he had parted his hair to the side now. Other than that he was Gabriel….her Gabriel. Rosalie wanted to admit instantly that she didn’t feel anything but she couldn’t. Here stood the honey eyed archangel that had haunted her dreams dressed in a leather jacket.
Gabriel looked to her right away. The annoyance he was feeling toward Dean vanished right away. Rosalie stood just feet away looking beautiful as ever and was most certainly an angel again. Her violet eyes were looking at him with upset eyes.
“Hey sugar have something to tell me….maybe two things.”
Dean gently touch Rosalie’s arm.
“Want me to throw him out?”
Gabriel scowled at Dean.
“I would like to see you try big boy. Remember what I have done to you in the past.”
Rosalie held her hand up.
“Dean its fine.”
Dean didn’t looked to convinced.
“Is Raphael with you? If he is then you need to take your ass and go elsewhere.”
Rosalie looked back at Gabriel with wide eyes. If Raphael was in the bunker all hell was about to break loose. Gabriel shook his head.
“I’m not with associating with my brother any longer.”
Dean looked surprised.
“Did you finally wake up and see he was psycho. If you did it has taken you a bit you stupid son of a bitch.”
Gabriel started after Dean but stopped the moment Rosalie stepped in between him and the eldest Winchester.
“Enough!”
Rosalie said coldly. She looked to Dean.
“Dean, Gabriel and I need to talk. If I need you I will call you.”
Dean turned with a shrug and walked out muttering about angels having more drama then someone on the episode of The Young and the Restless. Once he was out of the room Rosalie turned back to Gabriel.
“So you woke up and smelled the coffee huh?”
Gabriel frowned.
“I was awake anyway.”
Rosalie sat down on the couch crossing her legs.
“Well that is debatable.”
Gabriel sighed. This conversation was going to go nowhere with them throwing shade at each other.
“So we have twins?”
Rosalie nodded. She was trying to keep all of her emotional hurts with Gabriel in mind so she wouldn’t start feeling smitten all over again.
“Yeah. It sure looks that way.”
Gabriel’s golden eyes focused on her.
“And you didn’t tell me.”
Rosalie stood against this time stepping closer to him with nothing but rage and fury in her eyes.
“Well hell Gabe I wonder why! Something tells me that we just wasn’t that close! Remember you didn’t want a soulmate. You didn’t want me! I was stuck up your ass remember? Goodness forbid if I told you that I was pregnant and you would be stuck all over again.”
Gabriel winced knowing that she was using his words against him.
“Hey you only bonded with me to get me to shut up but I thought that I would at least be told that we were having a baby….oh wait we have 2! Rosalie we both said things that we didn’t mean that night.”
Rosalie raised an eyebrow.
“Then why did you say it? Why did I say it?”
Gabriel looked down. His facial expression was unreadable for a moment until he looked up.
“Why do we say anything when we do we are upset? Rose we both don’t have the best of tempers. You deserve the truth…that night I was upset. I was upset that you were in that bar. I was scared that someone would hurt you. When I found you I just lost my entire sense of reason. I was a douche….a jackass to you for a long time and you didn’t deserve any of it.”
Rosalie nodded.
“I didn’t. Gabriel I could sit here and yell at you for days. Tell you that you should have never played double agent with Raphael and that you didn’t know how to turn the dark off but it won’t do any good. I don’t have the strength or the drive to do it anyway. Our children are my priority and they have no clue who you are. I should have told you that they were born but I don’t trust you. It will take me a long time to trust you. Will we ever be the same as we were before? I don’t know. You have a lot to prove to me.”
Gabriel looked down.
“Are you saying that we still have a chance?”
Rosalie’s violet eyes moved away.
“I can’t tell you anything. I can’t give you any promises. You have a family that needs you. What you do with that is your choice.”
Gabriel looked around the room for any signs of an audience before motioning Rosalie forward. He reached out taking her hand in his stroking his fingers over hers. Neither said anything for a moment just watched their intertwined hands. Internally, Rosalie was swooning over the feeling of his skin on hers. Deep down she never thought that she would feel this again yet here they were. Also she was telling herself not to fall in love again so fast. Gabriel had to redeem himself.
Gabriel, meanwhile kept his eyes focused on Rosalie’s. He had missed those violet eyes more this time around then he had in the millions of years they were apart. The past five years, as much as he wanted to deny it, had been hell for him. Internally, he was calling himself a fool for not going to Rosalie sooner. His quest to take down Raphael seemed almost pointless and meritless now. Everything he had done in the past five years was a waste of time knowing that he had two children who knew nothing of him. He hadn’t been there when Rosalie was pregnant and he wasn’t there when his children were born. If Gabriel had ever called himself a coward he was doing it big time now.
Pulling himself from his thoughts Gabriel allowed his mind to go back to Raphael and the threats that he had made toward Rose and the kids.
“Rosalie, you have to listen to me here, Raphael knows about the kids. Well he thinks there is just one. I don’t think he realizes that there are two. He knows that I was a double agent now. Rosalie I can’t stay away. I can’t let him get close to any of you. I’m not asking you to jump back into bed or a relationship with me but I have to stay close to you. I may not be the perfect husband or father for that matter but I can’t let anything happen to you.”
Rosalie frowned.
“Gabriel, you wanted me to have your child so that you could use him as a weapon against….”
Gabriel held his hand up.
“Forget what I said! I was an idiot. I didn’t really think that plan through. That was before I actually saw our child. Now that I see them….there is no way. I’ll go kill Raphael myself. We are going to keep our kids safe so they don’t have to see the hell that we have. What will it take to get you to believe me?”
Rosalie looked down a moment before feeling brave enough to look into Gabriel’s eyes. She stood on her tiptoes pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Time…give me time.”
Gabriel wrapped his arms around her waist. The feeling of her body being pressed against his was indescribable.
“Anything you need sugar. I just want you and our kids….I just want you three safe. Rosalie nothing I said to you was a lie except what was said in that bar. You can have Cas or Zoe read me. They of all people will tell you the truth.”
Rosalie nodded pulling away from the embrace but kept her hands locked in his.
“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me!”
The sound of Zoe’s voice made Gabriel and Rosalie snap apart. Zoe stood in the doorway watching the two with wide horrified eyes. She walked into the room glaring at Gabriel.
“What the fuck are you doing back here? Why are you touching her?! Rose don’t!”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow before turning back to Zoe.
“Surprise bitch. I bet you thought you’d seen the last of me.”
Zoe frowned coldly.
“You are like a bad STD that won’t go away.”
Gabriel laughed at that. As much as Zoe tried to bother him she was failing miserably. He didn’t expect a warm welcome from her by any means. In fact he was expecting her to be cold. Sure enough he was right on the money when it came to Zoe’s attitude.
“That’s clever. Did you come up with that yourself?”
Zoe reminded Gabriel of a volcano that was about to explode. Rosalie meanwhile, held a hand up.
“Don’t start you two. The kids can hear you and I don’t want them to see nonstop fighting. They fight like cats and dogs anyway and don’t need inspiration.”
Gabriel and Zoe looked at each other both nodding. Rosalie looked pleased that they both seemed to agree the kids didn’t need any exposure to more drama than necessary. Zoe muttered,
“I’ll behave if he does.”
She turned and walked into another room without another word. Rosalie turned to Gabriel.
“Come on. Lets go find our kids.”
Gabriel didn’t need to be told twice before following Rosalie into the living room where Liam and Lily sat playing Call of Duty with Sam and Dean. Neither of the children looked up when Gabriel and Rosalie walked into the room. Their golden eyes were focused on the screen in front of them. Liam and Lily were busy whispering to each other so Sam and Dean couldn’t hear.
After a moment the Dean jumped up looking rather proud of himself.
“Yes I finally won! I just beat all of you!”
Liam and Lily exchanged a small smirk before looking to Sam who was shaking his head too. Dean looked at his company with a confused expression.
“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?”
Lily looked to Liam who gave her a small grin.
“Uncle Dean we unplugged you 30 minutes ago.”
Liam nodded.
“Yeah you are a bit of a liability.”
Dean sat down looking offended as he put the PlayStation controller on the table before looking at Sam.
“Am I really a liability?”
Sam chuckled before coughing.
“Dean you do kind of suck at this game.”
Dean frowned.
“Well now the truth comes out.”
Liam and Lily smirked at the look on Dean’s face before looking up at Gabriel and Rosalie. The twins looked at each other for a minute before Liam going up walking to Rosalie grabbing her hand.
“Okay mamma?”
Rosalie nodded picking up her son as Sam stood. Dean meanwhile, was watching Gabriel like a hawk. Sam looked back at his brother raising an eyebrow.
“Dean come on.”
He waited patiently for a moment for Dean to move when he didn’t Sam rolled his eyes.
“Dean come on. This is kind of personal. Let’s let them work it out.”
Dean frowned before getting up and stalking toward the door. He stopped when he got to Gabriel and motioned back to Liam.
“That kid is really protective of his mom. Keep that in mind.”
Once they were out of the room, Rosalie turned to Liam and Lily who had edged closer to each other and was looking from Gabriel to her. Rosalie sat down on the sofa only for Liam to climb on her lap wrapping his arms around her neck. Gently taking his arms down Rosalie situated him a little more comfortably before motioning for Gabriel to sit down.
“Liam, Lily this is your daddy. He’s come back to us.”
Lily and Liam exchanged little glances before Liam looked at Gabriel tilting his head to the side.
“Uncle Dean said that you got hit by a train.”
Gabriel’s eyes widened as he looked at Rosalie muttering something about Dean under his breath. Rosalie was giving her son the same identical shocked expression.
“Liam!”
She squealed. Gabriel smirked.
“Nah no trains involved kiddo. I’m sorry I have been gone so long. I had a lot of grown up things to work through.”
Liam didn’t looked entirely convinced as he snuggled closer to his mother. Lily on the other side looked completely fine with Gabriel’s excuse. She walked over to Gabriel crawling on his lap. Gabriel seemed a little shocked at first but didn’t hesitate wrapping his arms around his daughter. In that moment he had never felt more complete. Gabriel took his time memorizing her little rounds face. Everything about her reminded him of Rosalie except for her eyes.
Gabriel and Rosalie didn’t notice or chose to not notice Dean or Zoe standing in the doorway watching them. Dean reached out guiding Zoe away from the door.
“If that creep hurts her or those kids his ass is getting an archangel blade in it.”
Zoe turned looking at Dean with worried eyes.
“Dean, everything that Gabriel has said is true. The only false thing that he has said to Rosalie was when he told her that he didn’t love her.”
Dean swallowed looking at the angel couple behind him with their little half breed children.
“Well Gabriel is going to have his plate full when those kids get a hold of him. He doesn’t know how Liam is a little carbon copy of him and when he starts getting tricked I am ready to see how Gabriel acts. Douche will probably be proud and happy who am I kidding. “
Zoe raised an eyebrow. She turned walking from the room not willing to witness anymore. From being the person that held Rosalie as she sobbed over Gabriel to being the person whose hand she was holding during the birth or the twins Zoe couldn’t witness anymore. At the moment she could only hope that all of her reservations were for nothing and Gabriel had changed. Only time would tell….
_________
@greenappleeyes
@tas898
@jannalionheart
@sherala007
@sumara62
@authoressskr
@everyjourneylove
_______
#Gabriel x OFC#supernatural fanfiction#Gabriel#GABRIEL THE ARCHANGEL#Gabriel the Trickster#gabriel au#dean winchester#Dean x Cas x OFC#Sam Winchester#supernatural
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Mycroft Fan Submission Form
Name: Ellen
Age:28
Gender: Female
Occupation: Registered Nurse
Nationality: American
Country of origin: The USA
Personality type:INTJ
Education: Bachelors (BSN)
Marital Status: Single
Who would you shoot out of John, Sherlock, Mycroft and why: I would probably turn the gun on myself. I don’t think anything but extreme circumstances, my child or spouse’s life, could cause me to take a life.
Height: 5'5"
Position in the family: I am the oldest of four, one sister and 2 brothers.
Best subject: Sciences have always been my strong point.
Favorite Subject: Maternal/Child Nursing
Worst subject: I didn’t necessarily have a worst subject. If it did not hold my interest I did the bare minimum to maintain my GPA.
Last song listened to: “We Don’t Have To Take Our Clothes Off” Ella Eyre
Favorite color: Blue, all of them.
Thoughts on Molly and Sherlock’s impending relationship: It’s about time.
Illness/allergies/impairments: I’m allergic to latex and have seasonal allergies. I have Celiacs, Reynaud’s, and ADHD mixed.
Last sentence uttered to another living human being: STAT labs, cultures, and CXR as the left side sounds diminished and temp is 103?
Hair color/length: Dark brown and below my shoulders.
Who do you feel more sympathy for Sgt. Donovan or Anderson’s wife: Anderson’s wife, she did not make them sleep together. The vows of a monogamous relationship should be upheld. I don’t understand cheating and feel it is the ultimate betrayal.
Eye color: Blue
Constantly cold, hot or prefect: I’m always cold.
Seven Noteworthy skills:
I am an exceptional listener.
I am determined
I sing well enough.
I have good observation skills
Critical Thinking
Patience
Calm under pressure
Nine noticeable sins:
I can be too sarcastic.
Stubborn
Impulsive
Overly self critical
Easily Bored with things that don’t interest me
Emotionally withdrawn
My resting facial expression is mean
Perfectionist
Blunt
Languages known/spoken:Only English. I am learning Spanish.
Cats, dogs, both or other: Dogs. I have 2.
How often you help your community: If you refer to my job as my community then 4.
Favorite Holmes family member: Mycroft.
Body type:3 averaged
Number of past lovers: 2
Level of cleanliness: 2
Would you rather piss off Sherlock or Mycroft: Sherlock. He is emotional and once the emotional response has run its course the anger is usually forgotten.
Rate your mental health: 4, gotta get more sleep.
Rate your confidence: I would say a 3 on average. Sometimes I question myself.
Combat Level: 3
Circle of friends: I have a small tight circle of close friends but many casual friends. Who do you side with more Sherlock or Mycroft: Mycroft.
Level of intelligence on a scale of 1-5: 4
Who do you side with more Mycroft or Mrs. Hudson: Mycroft.
Introvert or Extrovert: Introvert
Political alignment: I am all over with my political views. I find it very hard to find one party I align with a majority of the time.
Who would your rather be trapped in a long car ride with Mummy Holmes or Holmes Senior: Holmes Senior. I’m sure he would be very pleasant to talk to.
Go to outfit for everyday: Long pants, tank top, and sweater. Honestly though I wear scrubs every day.
Go to outfit to impress: A dress and heels
5 hobbies:
Painting
Reading
Writing
Hiking
Dog training
Opinion of Rosie Watson and Mary Watson: I love children and find it very hard to have a poor option of any child. I think they are all brilliant. I am indifferent to Mary. I cannot say what I would do if I were to be made to make the choices she did in life.
Favorite music/book/movies: I love anything by J.R.R. Tolkien and reading a lot of medical, science, and various non-fiction books. I very much enjoyed the Wonder Woman movie. I will and do listen to any and all music.
How well you take rejection on a scale from 1-5: I handle it pretty well, so about a 4.
Religious or religious affliations: I was raised Catholic. Currently I do believe in God but I do not associate with any religion.
Kids or no:I very much want children
Out of the Holmes family (Siger, Violet, Sherlock and Eurus) who would you kill, maim, kiss or roommate with and why: I would kiss Violet in a close friend. Maim Sherlock but verbally. Eurus would be the only one I could see killing in a very extreme circumstance. Roommate Siger, I feel there is a lot about him we don’t know.
Do you think what Mycroft did with Eurus (at the time) was justified and needed: I am the oldest and fiercely protective of my family. I understand where Mycroft was coming from. If I believed it was best for my other siblings safety and well being to contain another sibling, I would. I could also see the reasoning of lying to my parents of their death. As for using her to help the government, I often wonder if it was the only way he could justify interacting and seeing Eurus. I know I’d look for any reason to still visit them still.
One day three Greek philosophers settled under the shade of an olive tree, opened a bottle of Retsina, and began a lengthy discussion of the Fundamental Ontological Question: Why does anything exist?
After a while, they began to ramble. Then, one by one, they fell asleep.
While the men slept, three owls, one above each philosopher, completed their digestive process, dropped a present on each philosopher’s forehead, the flew off with a noisy “hoot.”
Perhaps the hoot awakened the philosophers. As soon as they looked at each other, all three began, simultaneously, to laugh. Then, one of them abruptly stopped laughing. Why?
I guess he realized that they were laughing at him too so realized he had owl droppings on his head as well. It’s funny when it happens to others but not to you.
A 120 wire cable has been laid firmly underground between two telephone exchanges located 10km apart.
Unfortunately after the cable was laid it was discovered to be the wrong type, the problem is the individual wires are not labeled. There is no visual way of knowing which wire is which and thus connections at either end is not immediately possible.
You are a trainee technician and your boss has asked you to identify and label the wires at both ends without ripping it all up. You have no transport and only a battery and light bulb to test continuity. You do have tape and pen for labeling the wires.
What is the shortest distance in kilometers you will need to walk to correctly identify and label each wire?
I don’t really understand this one but I’ll take a shot. So I’d group them to make dealing with them easier and label the groups at the start. Then take the grouped end down with me so that I could test and figure out which wire goes with which using light bulb and battery group. I’d label as I go. Then I’d have to walk the end back to the start. So 20km? I don’t know. I just know when labeling lines and hooking them up, I always go down and back up.
A woman is sitting in her hotel room when there is a knock at the door. She opened the door to see a man whom she had never seen before. He said “oh I’m sorry, I have made a mistake, I thought this was my room.” He then went down the corridor and in the elevator. The woman went back into her room and phoned security. What made the woman so suspicious of the man?
He knocked on the door. You’d just open you’re own door.
Please bold the following that you wish to have with Mr. Holmes:
Friendship
Partnership
Marriage
Mentorship
Mycroft’s answer:
Ah, a nurse. I believe that you dear Ellen may be the first I have come across with the piles of applications and find it very refreshing to come across yours. So far with your questions you managed to answer two out of three correctly which is very promising as is your hobby for training dogs. Did you know that Sherlock at one point decided he would attempt to train a stray dog that had wandered into our neighborhood? A filthy if not friendly fellow. It was a shame that mummy wouldn’t allow Sherlock to keep him as I figured it would be a great companion for both him and might socialize Eurus a bit however after the ‘incident’ with Victor I feel fortunate that the poor creature found a loving home elsewhere. I can sympathize with the what others may call “resting bitch” face as both Sherlock and John claim that I have it despite my best efforts to look more enticing to young Watson but alas, I fear that she too like her father is wary of me and my intentions.It is also very comforting to find someone that validates my past decisions concerning the distressing business of Victor because even in my age I feel it was right and if I had to go through with again I would only change a few things like putting her into isolation in the first place without outside interference. Your line of work sounds very intriguing as from what I gathered you must work with adult or child like patients versus infants labs but I could be wrong. I’d love to discuss it over dinner.
-M
My dear Ellen,
Friendship: 9/10
Partnership: 8.9/10
Marriage: 8.8/10
Mentor-ship: 10/10
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Sherlock Season 4 – TL;DR: The Fanfiction is Better
SPOILERS AND PALATE-CLEANSING FIC RECS FOLLOW
Season 4 of Sherlock was always going to be a tough sell for me, because the moment they revealed “she’s a secret assassin!” I stopped buying the Mary Watson character. It’s what film critic, Mark Kermode, calls the “Meg Ryan is a helicopter pilot/Keanu Reeves is an architect” problem. Amanda Abbington was just not believable to me as a spec ops assassin, and she wasn’t equipped to perform the action convincingly. And all that was before the problems with the story were even revealed. After Mary shot Sherlock, every time she turned up on the screen, my stomach clenched, because, as presented, she was capable of anything – demonstrating profoundly antisocial tendencies: lying, manipulation, self-serving extreme violence, and disregard for human life. Her total rehabilitation was simply not plausible to me and probably wouldn’t have been even if its foundation hadn’t been the unbelievably ludicrous, glib assertion: “That was surgery.” (Not how guns and bullets work!) Watching her subsequent chumminess with Sherlock, whom she shot in the chest and killed (he flatlined), made me feel like I was being gaslighted. In my mind, it wasn’t good enough for her to say, “I only hurt Sherlock because I love John so much I can’t lose him!” Go down to any battered women’s shelter and you’ll hear similar stories of abusers’ rationalisations for beating up the person their property dared to smile at in the grocery store parking lot. Watching Mary joke and laugh with the people she’d victimised so horribly while continuing to marginalise John made much of The Six Thatchers almost unwatchable for me.
I understand that the undercurrent of intimate partner abuse in the Watson family was wholly unintentional, and it reminds me of the criticisms of 50 Shades of Gray. In both cases, two-dimensional characters (“Action Barbie” and “Sexy Troubled Billionaire”) there solely to serve the plot – not function as decision-making protagonists in their own lives – were the problem. (Yes, I just compared Sherlock to 50 Shades of Gray. At least 50 Shades of Gray had the excuse of a novice writer wrangling with the knottiness of a BDSM relationship as an excuse. Moftiss should know better.) Nevertheless, as much as I disliked the Mary Watson character, as much side eye as I gave her and John’s frankly dubious “love story”, I was appalled by Moftiss icing her so Sherlock could figure out he needs to check his ego. She was just there to sacrifice herself for Sherlock after his douchery got a bullet fired at him and to give John something to shake and sob about. The entire storyline of their “strong female character” was essentially a morality play aimed at teaching Sherlock about the dangers of hubris and a fulcrum to lever up the man-tear quotient. Then they turned their BAMF assassin into the benevolent spirit providing emotional instruction via DVD from beyond the veil. *vomiting emoji*
The Lying Detective at least provided relief from all the incoherent punching and shooting and rappelling of The Six Thatchers, even if it brought with it the lazy construct of the hallucinated spouse as an expression of grief (for real, though, the handling of the Mary Watson character and storyline is a masterclass in what not to do – so incredibly misjudged). One of the major issues I have with Moftiss’s writing is their careless, insensitive handling of serious mental health issues. Using auditory and visual hallucinations as shortcuts to say “I’m devastated by the loss of my wife” really rubbed me the wrong way. John wasn’t just talking to Mary in his head or forgetting she was dead, which happens to many people who lose a loved one suddenly. He was seeing her, hearing her – he couldn’t separate her spectre from reality. Those are not manifestations of grief; they are signs of profound psychological disturbance and distress that require urgent medical intervention, maybe even hospitalisation. They could have tied John’s extreme symptoms to sleep-deprivation from having to deal with Rosie at all hours of the night. The sleep-deprivation could have been exacerbated by insomnia brought on by feelings of guilt. But, no. They did it because real grief, presented the way a well-adjusted, middle-aged adult would experience it just wasn’t sexy enough.
I never found the “high-functioning sociopath” line funny, but thought they might take it to an interesting place. What is sociopathy? How does it manifest itself? How would it manifest itself in Sherlock Holmes? Why does Sherlock label himself this way? Was he misdiagnosed (he’s obviously not a sociopath)? Was he self-diagnosed? I don’t think Moftiss ever genuinely considered how having a personality disorder would affect a character’s behaviour outside of giving him funny quirks and making him a bit rude. “High-functioning sociopath” was just there as a clapback to Anderson then as something gangster to say before Sherlock shot Magnusson in the face. They never thought it all the way through. By way of comparison, Arthur Conan Doyle described Sherlock Holmes as a law unto himself, as the final arbiter. He was also called “masterful” – able to impose his will on others. When he chose, he had “an ingratiating quality” and could easily earn people’s trust. He was also an accomplished actor and master of disguise, who was able to fool even his dear Watson. There is a grandiose, manipulative psychology at work there that is knitted together with a deep sense of fair play and commitment to justice. While sometimes churlish and short-tempered, he could be profoundly empathetic. He also had nervous breakdowns, what we call major depressive episodes today, and used hard drugs to self-medicate. Sherlock Holmes’s psychology is full of fascinating contradictions. Everything Moftiss needed was in the original text, but they never got beneath the surface. So, while they’ve hit on some of these traits, they’ve never been fully integrated into a complete character because I just don’t think they’ve made the effort to understand mental illness and related drug abuse. There’s actually an interview of Steven Moffat describing Sherlock as “clinically insane”. The fundamental misunderstanding of what that means is why The Final Problem ultimately failed.
The appearance of the evil, secret sister telegraphed that we were heading into telenovela territory, and I wasn’t surprised by the contrivance of the Maze of Moral Abyss, all those macabre labours for Sherlock, John and Mycroft to perform – a steroidal re-hash of The Great Game. It was like something out of a 90s action film – The Rock meets Die Hard With a Vengeance, and I watched it as such. I half expected Bruce Willis or some other 90s throwback to come bounding in, armed to the teeth, start flinging grenades and just command them to shoot their way out. Even so, The Final Problem was the best of the three episodes this season – at least them spending nearly the entire episode at Sherrinford meant that it was cohesive tonally. I still don’t quite know what to make of them choosing to ground the entire plot – all those games, all those deaths – in Eurus’s cry for help. It is possible to humanise a psychopath within the constraints of their diagnosis. They have inner lives that aren’t limited to the monstrous, but they’re not like us – the emo play is always a loser – you can only out-manipulate them. They have an internally consistent view of the world, and once you understand the rules they follow, you can predict their behaviour and outflank them (it’s the basis of criminal profiling), but you have to empathise with them. Do you see how understanding all that not only helps with characterisation but buttresses the plotting and would have avoided the anti-climax of the ending? Answering the question: “What does Eurus really want?” then having Sherlock, John and Mycroft connive a way to give it to her would have been much more interesting.
The obvious pop cultural point of connection with The Final Problem is The Silence of the Lambs. We all were drawn to Hannibal Lecter – we couldn’t help liking him and felt conflicted about it. At the end of the film when Clarice says she knows he won’t come after her because he would consider it “rude” – now that’s interesting. What is Eurus’s “That would be rude”? My inability to answer that question gets to the heart of my problem with Sherlock – I don’t feel like I understand any of the characters or what is motivating them. Superimposing the tropes of storytelling onto the episodes and trying to read between the lines is the only way to make sense of them. They’ve been building to this Eurus confrontation for literally half a decade, and it still fell flat. They gave her whole backstory, and I still don’t understand her. By way of comparison, The Silence of the Lambs is 2 hours and 18 minutes long, and Anthony Hopkins appears on screen for only fifteen minutes, yet we all understood exactly who Hannibal Lecter was, what he was capable of, what he wanted and why. I’ll grant that The Silence of the Lambs is an unfairly high bar, but it provided a clear blueprint for the complex, charismatic, psychopathic serial killer pulling the strings. At the end of The Final Problem, Moftiss asks us to believe that the answer to Eurus’s “problem” was the love of her family. She obviously coveted Sherlock’s attention enough to murder poor Victor Trevor and set her elaborate stage, but anyone who understands even the basic contours of her psychology knows her shaking and crying in a burnt out house and needing a hug from her brother isn’t how that story ends.
I seriously wonder how much better Sherlock would have turned out if at some point in the last 5 years Moftiss had just googled Cluster B Personality Disorders and spent a few days boning up. They wouldn’t have made such a hash of Mary, and Eurus wouldn’t have been “Female Moriarty Who Lost Her Bottle in the End” – utterly anticlimactic. Or did they do the research, but they just couldn’t give a woman the minerals to be a proper villain?
To be clear: I wouldn’t have many of the complaints I’ve laid out if I hadn’t constantly been told Sherlock is the cleverest show on television. It’s not. It never was. The plotting of the first two seasons got it pretty close to being included in that conversation, but it’s no The Sopranos, no The Wire, no Mad Men. At this point, I’d say any workmanlike police procedural has it beat, hands down. Remember all those arguments about which was the better show, Elementary or Sherlock? Well, Elementary won. And that unsexy police procedural structure is why. The show has an identity, a solid foundation – it’s consistent. Moftiss can’t seem to decide what Sherlock is about, and that’s why so much of Season 4 felt like lurching in and out of a Jason Statham film, a Masterpiece Theatre offering and a Lifetime movie. At least The Final Problem managed to break that pattern. It was essentially the Sherlock Holmes origin story, and it took us back to the ancestral home, back to the first tragedy. Even just visually, we were clearly in Skyfall, which shows that Ralph Jones picked up exactly what Moftiss were putting down when he called them out on the “James Bonding” of Sherlock. (The literary beef that ensued was entertaining, and Jones bodied Gatiss with “The Second Letter” – the cipher in the cipher was the mortal wound.)
The argument about the Bonding of the franchise was really about a lack of depth – the flash of fight sequences over the substance of watching a precise but troubled mind at work – and Jones clearly made a valid point. Gatiss shooting back that Sherlock being a BAMF is canon didn’t address the heart of the criticism. I think the Daniel Craig Bond films are much better than anything on offer in post-Season 2 Sherlock. Even with all the camp, sneering baddies and always slightly ridiculous plots, they never got anywhere near anything as radioactively, intergalactically idiotic as “That was surgery.” In a Bond film, when someone is shot in the chest at close range, it’s TO SHOOT THEM IN THE CHEST SO THEY STOP EXISTING. If they manage to survive, it’s a bit of a turn-up. Guns and bullets don’t magically become surgical implements. Yet Sherlock used this physics-defying rebuke of basic human anatomy to convince intelligent, educated people to go along with the rehabilitation of Mary Watson (why they chose to make her silly storyline so important is baffling). They then doubled down on that narrative in The Six Thatchers, piling on a barrage of action that was essentially extraneous to the story. All to get us to the moment in the aquarium where Mary dives in front of a bullet to save Sherlock, who for some unfathomable reason decided to talk over any attempts to pacify Norbury and all but commanded her to shoot him. Then Mary was kind of a ghost but not really. Then they introduced a long-lost evil sister and an island prison. Do all that if you want; just don’t insult my intelligence by smugly telling me it’s clever then hide behind Arthur Conan Doyle’s skirts when you get called out on it. If from the beginning Moftiss had just owned up to having wanted to write a glossy, slightly absurd, mainstream actioner with soliloquizing villains, I would have gladly gone along with it. But I’ve continuously been told I’m watching The Usual Suspects or some other complex thriller with a sense of humour when it’s clear I’m watching Bad Boys 2 with British accents. Again: that’s fine in the name of pure entertainment; just know that insisting it’s clever feels like a straight-up troll. At some point all the cognitive dissonance had to become too much to bear.
So what’s the result of all this?
The fanfiction is better.
Even relatively inexperienced fanfic writers with a limited set of tools at least attempted to flesh out the characters and give them backstories and lives, fully formed personalities. It didn’t always work, but the effort was appreciated. The superstars of the genre used the hiatus to write stories that surpassed anything Moftiss gave us in Season 4, particularly in terms of character development. When characters’ motivations drive the plot, the story is not only more cohesive narratively, it’s more engaging and lasting because all the shocks and gasps are earned and move beyond cheap manipulation for the sake of entertainment. At the heart of the narrative success of the top-tier fanfiction is empathy. The writers got inside the characters’ heads and asked, “Who are these people? Where are they from? What experiences shaped them? What do they want? What are they afraid of? Whom do they love?” Moftiss seemed to reverse engineer everyone’s behaviour and emotional reactions by working backwards from the plot – everyone is just there to be manipulated, to be made to speak or act because the plot demands it, so those questions can’t really be answered. That labyrinth Eurus runs Sherlock, John and Mycroft through is a microcosm of the entire franchise. If I didn’t read fanfiction, maybe I could have gone along for the ride with Moftiss, but I knew there were fully realised characters out there whose hurt wasn’t manufactured, whose choices mattered beyond setting up a gag or a plot twist, who were protagonists in their own lives no matter how small their roles were.
Not even Sherlock escapes this poor treatment.
Here’s what exactly none of the plot-driven, post-Season 3 Sherlock fanfiction I’ve read failed to consider: Sherlock dealing with the fallout of having been captured and tortured in Serbia then being shot by Mary. Do you know why they all went there? Because being the victim of that kind of brutal violence tends to affect people psychologically, and those effects ripple into the lives of their friends and family. But in Moftiss Land, Sherlock being chained and beaten at the opening of the third season was just there so we could watch Mycroft crack wise while wearing a fur hat. Mary shooting him was meant to “Red Wedding” us, nothing more. There were no lingering physical or psychological effects from Sherlock having been tortured. It’s never come up again, not even as an aside. Really think about that and what it means about the quality of the writing, about the depth of the characterisation, about the empathy being deployed towards the eponymous hero. Sherlock is obviously the character Moftiss hold in the highest esteem, but Season 3 proved Sherlock is just a prop to them – their most beloved prop but still just a thing, a toy. The only real narrative through lines in Sherlock are the twists, and they’re the only elements that aren’t played right on the surface. Everything else is meant to be taken at face value. There is no subtlety, no subtext. There are Easter eggs and other markers laid down mostly for plot payoffs – a puzzle to solve – but no emotional depth, no narrative consistency. Sherlock is and always has been elementary – there were just too few episodes for most of us to suss it out sooner.
A few people saw through all the flash of Sherlock from the very beginning, and I tip my hat to them for being far more perceptive than I. (If they’re running around being insufferable and shouting, “I told you so!” they’ve more than earned the right.) The first two seasons were a fresh, shiny new take on the somewhat musty image of the great detective, and we all got to watch Benedict Cumberbatch take command and come into his own. But the real reason those early episodes were of such a higher quality was the low budgets: they handcuffed Moftiss. They couldn’t get all the helicopters, Aston Martins and rappelling super soldiers on their juvenile wish list, so the plot twists actually had to be interesting not just turned up to eleven. We all mistakenly assumed that character development that would match the level of the plotting would come later. What those early critics of Sherlock understood (and what has come to pass) was that the reverse would happen: the plotting would sink to meet the level of the poor characterisation. What most of us took for slight faux pas we could overlook, they realised were portents of the slide in quality we’ve all witnessed. They knew Moftiss weren’t to be trusted to dock the ship, and they were absolutely right. Once Moftiss were truly given free rein, the true heart of Sherlock was revealed, and it’s just confused but lacks the self-awareness to realise or do anything about it.
Being “the smart kids” is part of the hardcore Sherlock fandom’s identity, and I don’t see many of them being able to admit that Moftiss bamboozled them. (We all got took, guys.) The capricious characterisation, careening plot and disjointed editing have thus far been interpreted as intentional, as Moftiss hiding the ball, as further evidence of their diabolical cleverness – all the incoherence taken as a collection of hidden clues to be thoroughly investigated. Even though Season 3 made it clear the story was spinning out of control and Season 4 has seen it hurl itself off a cliff (but only just miss smashing its head on the rocks), much of the earnest analysis will likely continue. Many of the casuals are in it for the slick deductions and probably embraced all the high-octane thrills. (There will be an inevitable backlash, though – you can’t fool all the people all the time.) The excellent ratings of Season 4 mean the bean counters will want a Season 5, or at the very least more Christmas Specials. Enough of the audience is probably still on board to justify it financially. I can only hope Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman have enough sense to withhold their participation. The Final Problem wasn’t the unmitigated disaster I was expecting, but everything from Season 3 onwards has made it clear the show can’t live up to its early potential and that the problems with the storytelling are baked in. So, it’s best this latest Sherlock Holmes incarnation just come to a close before it becomes a career-devouring black hole.
Thank goodness the fanfiction provides someplace the characters can live on.
Fics to Cleanse the Palate
TRUTH MAY VARY by @amalnahurriyeh
Seven years after Sherlock's death, John's life is normal.
And then it isn't.
I don’t usually rec incomplete work, but this is close enough to being done to be satisfying. If Season 3 onward had shown even a fraction of the emotional maturity of this story, we would be in a very different place.
Read on AO3.
STRAIGHT BOY PAIN by @glenmoresparks
Sherlock is in pain. Billy Kinkaid, the Camden garrotter and best man Sherlock knows, diagnoses it. Ademar Silver, a male prostitute in south London, attempts to treat it. Lestrade, kindly Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard, doesn’t notice it. Eventually, John Watson, healer and registered medical doctor, cures it.
And a beautician called Penny paints Sherlock’s toenails.
Read on AO3.
FAN MAIL by @scullyseviltwin
“WatsonChick143 has been rather maniacal in her commenting as of late... she’s left comments on everything you’ve posted John, something so obvious can’t have escaped even your attention."
A fan of John’s blog graduates into stalking.
Read on AO3.
THE YELLOW POPPIES by @silentauroriamthereal
Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.
Read on AO3.
And in an act of shameless self-promotion:
BEFORE HOLMES MET WATSON by Meeeeeeeeeeeeee!
What does it mean to be a detective with no cases to solve? Sherlock Holmes tries not to ponder this question as he distracts himself from his professional failings with bare-knuckle boxing at an underground fight club and vials of cocaine and morphine. John Watson spends his days in an operating theatre on an Army base in Afghanistan, doing his best to patch up the wounded and failing more often than he'd like. The dark, violent worlds in which both men choose to live complicate their romantic lives and cause them terrible suffering but set them on paths that are destined to cross.
Read on Wattpad or Tablo OR download the Ebook on my website.
I’m always looking for recs, so PLEASE ADD A FIC YOU THINK ISN’T GETTING ENOUGH LOVE.
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Imagine V Taehyung as your boyfriend!!! ^^
THIS IS YOUR LOVESTORY WITH V TAEHYUNG!!! ^^
You woke up really early that day because you had some filming shootings. Oh yea, you are part of the HWARANG’s cast. You are not famous, this is the first act that you make. J You are not a primary actress, but you affect a lot in the continuity of the event. So you got wear really fast and took your car to went into the HWARANG set. You are soo preety, you have long blonde hair and you always keep a big shiny smile in your face. You arrived a bit late into the set, and some other actors were shooting in the moment you arrived. The film’s director saw you with some angry eyes, because you had a really important part to shoot that day. You looked down in embarrassment and you were feeling guilty. Ah, you had a kiss scene, with one member of HWARANG, Park Hyung Sik. You actually really like that actor, because he’s like prince charming, he’s tall, handsome and a great kisser( just from the movie experience :P). Actually all the boys actors are really handsome. You don’t like just one of them. He is V Taehyung. >.< V is a member of BTS, but you don’t really like him. He always wants to stay close to you and even distracts you sometimes. Go Ara( one of the film’s actress), is your best friend from this movie, and she says that you have feelings for V Tae. You: Go, stop it!!!! I hate him, and you say that I like him!! Weird! -.-‘ Go: I know you like him!! I’ve noticed how you look at him, when he has the shooting parts. He is so hot by the way!! If you don’t want him, I will take him!! LOL You: Take him, I don’t really care. Go: Ehee, look he is coming in our direction. Even that you hate V, your heart pumps really really fast everytime he is next to you. What does this mean?!! Do you lik….nooo Y/N don’t continue that!!! V: Oh, hello girls!! Hi Y/N!! So the director is a bit angry with you today right? You: What do you care anyway? V: Well you know I care about you. I want to make you a proposal. You: Wha..at?!!! What proposal!!!! Oh…your heart was running into your chest in that moment. <3 V: Haa, don’t worry I’m not going to marry you, maybe it can happen one day lmao, but I just want you to come with me today after the rehersals. You: Why would I come with you?!! -.- V: Because it’s gonna be a lot of fun, I promise!!!! ;D V said this while he was holding your hands in a begging way. Go Ara tread your foot, in an act where she wanted to say that you should absolutely go with V. You: Ummm, I don’t know, I will think about it. J After you said that, you ran into your clothing room and started to think about this situation. You were sitting into your room’s chair. You suddenly heard some footsteps coming in you room’s direction. V: Oh com’on sweety!!! Open the door. You: V, go away!!!..or I will not come with you tonight. >.< V started laughing and anyway he opened the door. V: Oh, so you are thinking, ha!! Will this help you thinking? After he said that, he came towards you and he was really really close with you, you could even felt his heart. He was staring at you with some curious eyes like he wanted to feel every single part of you. You: Are you crazy!!!!! >.< Mooove! You stepped him away, but V couldn’t stop his flirting. V: I’m gonna have you someday Y/N. And when I have you, you will enjoy it much more than I will. So, see ya today, after the rehearsals. :* V closed the door and left your room. You: I can’t believe this guy!!! >.< Why does he always want to talk with me.?!..... After you finished your rehersals, that went really well btw J, you entered your car, and just when you were going to drive it home, you see some big hands standing in front of your view. -.-“ V: Stoop, plz!!! You: What do you want now?! V: Before I tell you, get out from the car. :D You got out from the car, with full nerves. You: V, stop doing all of these stupid things! Stop following me everywhere! Stop laughing just for once!!! And stop being this ahhhh….!!! >.< You started crying from anger. V: Wait, no no, don’t cry please!! I will also cry then! L You: No you won’t silly!! L But surprisely V actually started crying, and you sudden, started to laugh. V: Uaaah ToT, look what did you do to me?!! I cant stop crying now!! You: Hahaha, you are funny! When he heard that, he suddenly stops crying. J V: I am?..I mean of course I am…that was the purpose from the beginig. :D You smiling: Yea right!! J V, I think I will come with you! I don’t have anything special to do in home alone anyway!! V: Reeaally!!! Uh, finally! XD Come on, I’m the best guy that can make someone happy, especially you. You giggled with that. Wait, what was happening now?! You are going out with V. ^^ V: Hey, why don’t we go over there? He showed a small bar, in which you have been so many time with your best friend, but not with V. V: What’s wrong, you don’t like that place? You: No, it’s not that. It’s just, that was the place where me and my best friend used to go. And we two are not friends anymore, that kinda remind me of her. But you know what,that was the past, now let’s go there and have some fun!! :P V: Umm, ok lol!!! :D Let’s go!!.... You two finally found a free table, because there were so many people. You two set in front of each other, and ordered smth to drink. It passed some minutes, and Taehyung wasn’t taking his eyes off you. You were feeling a bit embarrassed. V: Haha you’re blushed!! :D Can I touch your cheeks? They are really rosy right now, lol!! ^^ You was a bit shocked and you don’t know why but you felt yourself burning up. Are you feeling smth for V?! You: :D you really want to touch my cheeks?! I don’t think so!! :P V: Yes, I want and here I’m doing it. Tae take out his big hand and starting pulling your cheeks in a really cute way. That made you feel a bit uncomfortable, but still ahh <3…a guy had never touched your face before. V: Hihihi, they are so squishy!! But maybe I should stop now because you are getting more red. V pulled his hand to himself, but didn’t take his eyes from you, not any second. V: So talk me a bit about yourself. What you like, what you do in your free time or things like do you have a boyfriend? :D You felt your heart jumping really fast when you heard the word “boyfriend” from V’s mouth. You: Well, it’s not much. I really like playing the guitar, and I spend almost my whole free time with it. But anyway my life is acting, and I would love to be a famous actress in the future, well I know I am in Hwarang, but I would like smth much bigger, you know, like Hollywood, and Los Angeles baby!!! XD Also, the most important people of my life are my parents, because I don’t have any brother or sister. <3 They are my biggest support and only from them, I’m now who I am today. They are like my tune that I play with my guitar, they are my act that I play like an actress, they are my soul that stay always here in the bottom of my heart. And I think that this heart, will always have a place for them. <3 Ahh, sorry, you don’t like things like that right? It’s just, when I talk about my family, I have so many feelings in my heart. V: No no, I am listening you really carefully, and I really appreciate people that love their families, because I am one of them. I also love my family, more than everything else in the world. And I’m not saying this, just for fun now, I think family it’s a really serious subject. You may know that I am part of a group named BTS, and when we work really hard for smth, the only things that makes me move on with the music career are my ARMYs and my family. When we win an award, I don’t get happy because of my fame or smth like that. It’s smth totally different. I get happy because, I can never take off of my mind the look of my tired dad that came everyday from his work and always had his shiny smile on his face. He said that he made all of that difficult work, just to make me and my family happy, because he believed that I would also made him happy in the future. And he believed and is always believing on me,that “my dreams” are going to make him always happy and I should countinue for the best. This motivates me more and more everyday. So, this is the reason why I’m always smiling and I always want to be positive, for life and its adventures. You were crying from the words of Taehyung. You never thought of him that way. He was so carrying and sweet and lover of life, so maybe he isn’t the idiot guy, you always thought he was. You think you really like him now. ^^ You: Oooh, Taehyung that was so sweet!!! TT You made me cry, again lol J, but for good this time. I think we have a lot of similarities, and this is a good thing. :) V: Ahh, sorry for making you cry again!! It’s just I love them so much!! <3 So, you are happy about the fact that we are similar! You: Actually yes, yes a lot. ^^ V: Oh, look at the time, I think we better leave from here now. J You: Yea, me too!! Let’s go. J ….
You two left the bar, and started walking together, side by side. V: I was thinking for both of us, to go in some other places too, but now it’s really late, so…Anyway I don’t think you would like to go out with me another time. You: No actually, I really do!! I had so much fun today, as you promised, and we can go out again tomorrow, if you are free. Oh, and here is my number, in case you want to call me or smth. ;) V: Wow, I’m so glad you had fun. And, how is it possible that before 4 hours you hated me more than everything else in the world :P , and now you suddenly gave me your number?! Umm, I’m impressed!!! You: Well, I think I was wrong about you. I guess you are much more different than I thought. I really like guys that are emotional and soft. And you are one of them. By the way, I thought you would be as every other guy that I’ve met, who talk only for themselves and are always flirty and act like bad guys. But you are not like that. You are different. You are special. ^^ I like that!!! V: Uhh, thanks, I guess I will be the rosy cheek now. Well, do you want me to take you home or..? You: It’s ok, I can go by myself. V: OK, bye!!! Love ya Y/N!!! You: Byee!!! ^^……
You woke up early the next day, and you couldn’t sleep during all night because the cute face of V, couldn’t leave from your mind. You were so excited that you would see him again today. And you were staring at your phone, minute after minute, because you were hoping to receive a message from V. Ahh, you really care about him now, after he talked with you last night. And you kinda love him right now. Maybe Go Ara was correct, maybe you and V are really made for each other. You were also stressed because you wanted to find smth cute to wear. It’s not that you don’t have cute clothes, it’s just in situations like this, you always feel like you have a blank wardrobe. You started looking for smth, when suddenly your phone rings. It was an unnamed number, but you still open it. You: Hello! V:Well hello, hello miss! Would you like to buy smth in our company? You: Umm…I don’t know maybe. You were broken now, because you were expecting V to call. (you didn’t get that he was V for a bit) V: In what item are you interested, miss? (V was using a deep voice, so he could confuse you) You: Nothing special actually, do you mind if I leave this conversation because I don’t really need any item. V: As you want, sweety, I mean miss!! Damn!! XD You heard that “damn” and you suddenly recognized that voice. :P You: No way, V is that you? XD V: Hahah yep, it’s me!! The seller. You: aha, so funny!! So, good morning by the way! V: Good morning!! Are you ready for going out now? You: Ah, yea. I will be at the bar in where we met yesterday in 30 minutes. Promise!!! V: Okey. I will wait you in there. *kiss kiss ?* You: *nope, nope!!* Bye V lol!! :D V: Ah, ok bye!!! :*…..You weren’t expecting V to call you. You were expecting him to send you a message. You: Soo, this is V’s number. I should definitely save this. Since you didn’t sleep much at night, you went on google and download some photos of Taehyung. You saved the number, and since nobody is going to watch it, you put V number with a photo of him and a heart. <3 You: Ahh, I’m in love now!!! ^^ You actually got wear really fast, you wear smth instyle and comfortable……You went to the living room in which your mom was cooking. You: Mmmm, what is the most beautiful person in the world cooking? *o* Your Mom: Oh hey sweety!!!! <3 I’m cooking your favourite cookies!! ;) You: Ahh, thnx mom!! Love ya! Mom, I’ve missed my guitar a lot these days. L I know we can’t for the moment, because I will take my payment from Hwarang in the end of the month, but mom, plz can we buy a new guitar? Y/M: Ahh, honey!! I don’t know what to say. You know that we can’t for the moment. Ehh, neighbors have started thinking that we can buy everything now that you are an actress, but they don’t know that we are not in a really good situation right now. L You: Oh no mom, keep the smile plzz!!! That smile makes me more happier than a new guitar, believe me. J By the way, I should leave now!! Ah, it already passed 30 minutes! -.-“ Y/M: It’s ok!!! Go have fun sweety!! Bye!! :** You: Bye momy!!! Love you!!! :**…. You left your house and now you were walking by yourself. That day you didn’t feel really confident like other days, you were feeling smth awkward in your stomach, it was like you wanted to be perfect in front of V. Is this love? The idea of loving V, doesn’t make you angry anymore, it makes you happy and excited. You finally arrived at the bar you were with V yesterday, and he was waiting for you in there. You: Oh gosh, I’m so sorry V, I didn’t mean to come this late!!! >.< V: What, no!!! I should say sorry, because I love to go in some places earlier than everybody else so don’t worry!! By the way, you look amazing Y/N!! I love your look and it looks like we have both decided to wear smth similar because we have almost the same style! ^^ You: Ahh, thanks!!! Oh, what are you holding behind your back? V: It’s a surprise for you Y/N!!! Tatata!!!! You: Haaaaa, *o* oh my… V oh, thank you so so so so so so much!!!! Omg, how did you know I wanted smth like this? Anyway, I guess I can’t take it, but thank you !! J V took out a guitar, that he bought especially for you!! So sweet!!! :P V: I am so glad you like it!!! Of course you are taking it, now it’s yours!!! You: You didn’t have to buy me smth this expensive, but really, thank you so so much Taehyung!!! :* But anyway, how did you know that I didn’t have a guitar? I mean I told you yesterday that I love playing it, but I didn’t mention that I don’t have one now. V: Ahh, it’s a long story!! You: Well I guess we have time, and I love long stories!! :P You and V started walking together and he was talking now. V: Ok ok!!! :D Well, when I went home last night I was thinking a lot for you, and since we were going to meet each other again today, I wanted to buy you smth special. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to call Go Ara, since you two are friends, to ask her what thing can you like the most. So I called her, but she said that she wasn’t sure what you would like as a present, so she told me to call and ask your mom. ^^ I called her, and asked your mom what can I buy you and she was so sweet. She told me that, you would love to take a guitar, because the last one is broken. So I thanked her, and in the middle of the night, went into a music shop and bought you this guitar. So this was the story!! ;) Now, I am really happy you like it! You: Oh my…You did all of that just for me?!!! ^^ Ahh, so my mom knows you now. Thank you again so so much V!!! This is the most amazing present I have ever taken. Oh, wait my phone is ringing. You took out your phone and surprisingly look that the one who was calling was V. You: Umm, what? V… V: Hahaha, I called you because I was interested to see if you would have put my photo in my number or no. And, that photo is cool btw. Ohh, look also a heart!! You felt really embarrassed that moment, and took away your phone immediately. You started blushing again. You: Oh, this is really awkward… You didn’t even finish your sentence, when you suddenly felt Taehyung’s lips kissing your cheek. Omg!!!! He was kissing you, and you didn’t move him but you were feeling really good and started smiling. ^^ V: Ahh, here!!! Yesterday when you started blushing I just touched your cheeks, but now I couldn’t just touch them. I needed to kiss you. You: It’s ok!! I think I don’t mind it now! J Actually I need to tell you smth! I felt really happy when you said that you couldn’t sleep yesterday just because of me ^^ I also couldn’t sleep yesterday, because I was thinking about you. I think I lo..ve you V!! Anyway if you don’t feel the same, it’s ok. I get you! I know that a guy like you would like someone else, prettier and talented!! L V: What are you talking about Y/N?! You are really wrong in this part. You are the preetiest, the most talented, the sweetiest and the coolest girl I have ever met. You are not like any other girl. You are special for me Y/N!! :D And I really mean this, believe me!! ;D You were feeling really happy when V was saying those words for you, and now you were holding your new guitar!!! This was the best day ever! ^^ V: Oh look! There is the bridge of the city!! Why don’t we go there? So I can also listen at you playing your new guitar! You: Yea I also love that place, but I don’t know..playing my guitar in front of all those people!! V: Come on Y/N!! You are a part of a film now, and you know that a lot of people are going to watch Hwarang. Than you are afraid to do smth that you really like to do?! You: Uhh, ok ok!! Let’s go! ;) You two were walking through the city’s bridge and suddenly V stops walking and stays face to face with you. V: Well, I think now it’s time for you to play the guitar, sweety!! ;) Ahh, you didn’t say to V that you also know to sing, so you decided to play the guitar and sing one of your favourite songs at the same time. At first your fingers were shaking, but than you were feeling much better and you had missed a lot the melody of a guitar. You playing the guitar and singing: I like being independent, not to much of an invenesment, no one to tell me what to do.. yea yea..I like being by myself, don’t gotta entertain anybody else…nananana…But sometimes I just want somebody to hold, someone to give me the jacket when it’s cold, got the young love even when we’re old..yeaa sometimes I want someone to grabb my hand, pick me up, pull me close, be my man, I will love you till the end!!(Meanwhile, V was staring at you with really sweet eyes, keeping his arm on the bridge, and listening to you really carefully) So if you’re out there I swear to be good to you, but I’m done looking, for my future someone…cause’ when the time is right, you’ll be here but for now, Dear no one, this is your love song..Whooaoa!!! You: So that’s it!! It’s Tori Kelly, Dear no one. J I hope you liked it!! When you finished your singing, everyone that was staying near the bridge started claping and saying: Bravo bravo!!! V: *o* Who wouldn’t liked that? Look, I told you everyone would love you! But, woow, I wasn’t expecting you to sing!! ^^ You are amazing! I have made this song, cover with one of my BTS member. I think you are really talented and I will help you with singing, I promise!! ;D V took out his little finger, so he could keep the promise. It was so cute. You also took out your little finger and grabbed it with V’s. ^^ You: Ohh, thank you so much V!!! I can’t belive that I used to hate you. I have been so stupid, you are an amazing person. V: Hahaha, thnx!!! You are an amazing person too!! ;)….You two left the bridge happily, and started walking through a nice playing place. There were a lot of kids playing and laughing around. You: Look they look really happy!!! *o* V: Oh, look!!! A kid is playing with bubbles!! I want to play too T.T!!! Hey kid!! Hello sweety, can you please give me your toy just for some seconds!! The little kid: Haha, ok!! Here you are! V took the bubble’s toy and started making bubbles. He looked like a cutie pie!! He was laughing and playing with it all over the place, and he was blowing them to you too. You were laughing and playing around like little kids. V: Hahaha, this is so fun!! But I think we should give the toy to the kid now. :D You: Lol, yes!! V gave the toy to the little kid, and thanked him a lot. He looked much more little than the little kid. ^^ V: Ahh, that was so fun! Oh Y/N, let’s go to the beach!! I think it will be really cool now. You: Umm ok! Let’s go TaeTae!!! V: Hihhi TaeTae!! Cute! Thank you so much!..... You two started walking again and now in the beach’s direction. That moment you had an absolute different opinion for Taehyung. He is like the guy of your dreams, the one that you have always wait for, to show up. ^^ When you were thinking about these things, you see that you and V had arrived at the beach. And to make this end of day even better, you see smth really amazing and well-thought in front of your view. It was a tree with a heart shape <3 and under it, it was a cute little table with some foods and drinks on it. You: Haaaa, V that is amazing and so romantic!! *o* Umm, if that’s for me anyway!! V: No it’s for another special girl, of course it’s for you Y/N!!! :D Ahh, I can’t even belive that myself, because I thought I wasn’t a really romantic guy but now that I did that, haaha I think I am, lol!!! You two set on the chairs near the table, and that was the most romantic thing that someone had ever done to you. ^^ V: I need to tell you smth Y/N….. You: Shhh, you don’t need to say anything!!! ;) You didn’t let V to talk but came closer him and kissed him on the lips. He looked really happy with this, because he pulled you more closer and closer to himself and you two were kissing now in the middle of the beach, with a heart tree staying up you both!!!! So since that day you became V Taehyung’s girlfriend!! ^^ Yaaay!! You reveal more and more from the perfect personality of V everyday of your life with him, and you still think that being V’s girlfriend is one of the most great things you have done in your life! <3
So that’s it guys!!!! Thank you for liking and reading my other stories!! :** This story is a bit different and I hope you like this too!!! I love y’all and the other lovestory is going to be with Rap Monster!!! ^^
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Love, Emma (3/7)
(Art by the wonderful carpedzem <33)
Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).
Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.
And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.
Killian and Emma will dance around each other, until their heads spin and their legs hurt, and everything becomes blurry and it has to stop – for both of their sake.
Title is from Taylor Swift’s Hoax, and if you know it, you know, this one is going to be a tad painful.
Once again, a big thank you to @profdanglaisstuff who’s really an angel and beta’d this <3
Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 4000 words - ao3
Part 1 - Mirrorball, Part 2 - August , Part 4 - Peace, Part 5 - This is me trying, Part 6 - Cardigan
Just to set the scene, last chapter ended on Emma's wedding to Neal. This one opens on Emma, still in Augusta Airport, after Killian's departure -- four years before her wedding. It is still the summer of their nineteenth birthday, the summer during which they kissed but Emma forgot and now Killian is gone again and Emma has to learn to live without him.
PART 3 - HOAX
Don’t want no other shade of blue,
But you.
No other sadness in the world
Would do.
.
Four years before Emma’s wedding – Augusta Airport.
Emma’s hand is very harsh on her cheeks as it childishly wipes her tears away. She’s still staring at the door by which Killian left. She cannot stop staring.
She cannot even blame Augusta airport’s lack of air conditioning for the way her entire body shakes and trembles and seems about to explode into thousands of little pieces of confetti.
He left, again. And she is so mad. He was here all summer and they didn’t spend it together. And he left. And she is alone with her rage, now.
“Fuck.”
The exasperated whisper escapes her mouth as she feels something humid roll down her nose. Great, now she is blowing her nose in the middle of the airport. Killian is the one to always carry tissues in his backpack. Another spike of anger shoots right through her. Thankfully for her, her agitated hands find a used tissue in her front pocket.
It has the merit, at least, of making her decide to leave this goddamn place. Once her nose is dry and red, she aggressively strides forward – her pace sure as her face crumbles.
The sun is blinding when she reaches the outside world. It savagely burns her eyes and forces her to squint. Incredibly warm air fills her lungs and it tastes bitter, and everything is shit and she just wants, she just wants… Her thoughts nearly make her choke on her tears. She just wants Killian and he is gone.
One outraged foot stomps on the burning concrete, as if to allow her to regain some composure. She is Emma Swan. She doesn’t need anyone. She never has.
Liar.
Without a second thought, she heads for the bus stop. He left, again. Well, now is the time to learn to live without him, Emma.
Flashes of her past year haunt her thoughts, and she swallows painfully. Her throat is sore. She really spent a shitty year, huh.
As she glances at the bus schedule, and the scorching sun causes pearls of sweat to roll down her back in the most unpleasant way, she feels a hand press her shoulder.
She makes a U-turn in the blink of an eye, hands fisted and ready to defend herself, but then her eyes meet a familiar chocolate gaze.
“Hey Emma!” Neal’s voice resonates as he smiles brightly at her. She sees his expression quickly change and Emma gathers her red nose and her swollen, teary eyes aren’t her best look. She firmly wipes the remaining tears on her face and grins as Neal keeps staring. “Are you okay?” He asks her and his hand gently brushes her shoulder, and it looks like he cares about her.
She realizes he is exactly what she’s been waiting for. A distraction.
“Better now,” she affirms, and she hears her own voice as if it did not come out of her mouth.
She sees Neal arch an eyebrow, gathers he must be surprised that for once, she’s the one flirting with him.
But this is exactly what she needs. To feel special, desired, wanted.
(To feel like she isn’t someone one just leaves behind.)
“Good. Waiting for the bus?” he inquires, and she nods.
Neal is definitely tanner than the last time she saw him. He must be back from vacation.
She sees the grin on his face change, become something much more…dangerous. She isn’t afraid. She’s tired of feeling afraid.
“I’ve got my own car, if you want. I could drop you off.”
He’s biting his lower lip, and she sees herself brush a strand of hair from her face, unaware of the used tissue emerging from the front pocket of her jeans, as she leans into him.
“I’d like that, actually.”
She muffles the voice inside of her head telling her to be careful. Look at what careful gave her. It gave her nothing. It gave her goodbyes.
And she seizes the hand he offers.
.
Being with Neal is easy, mostly because she doesn’t have to wonder if he likes her as much as she likes him. He tells her. He lets her know. She thinks he likes her more than she likes him, but that’s also fine.
It allows this year to pass by fairly easily. She feels less alone. (Her heart still skips a beat when Killian’s name appears on her phone, but there will probably be no getting rid of that.)
She doesn’t tell Killian. What’s the point? He never told her about M. She wants to have secrets, too. She deserves to have her secrets.
.
It’s fall, and they’re sitting on Storybrooke’s carousel when Neal confides in her for the first time. (She really tries to shake her memories from her mind, the ones of her and Killian, once upon a time, when everything seemed easy and sure, and now it’s all over and she hates him.)
“I was given up, as a kid, too,” he tells her, legs wrapped around a brown horse. He is slightly below her, a kiss away. They haven’t kissed yet. She thinks they might. She thinks she might like that.
Emma feels her grip getting tighter around her white horse, breath caught in her throat.
He is the first person to understand her, on that level.
“And I understand, Emma,” he continues, and the warm brown of his eyes melts into Emma’s chest, leaves golden sparkles there. “I understand what it feels like.”
Oh, this is all too good. This is all she’s ever wanted. (She doesn’t care that Neal doesn’t have a job but can somehow offer a car and all the marvelous gifts he brings her. That doesn’t matter, not when he is staring at her as if she hangs the stars in the night sky.)
She’s leaning towards him, heart beating fast in her temples.
“I know your anger, your anger towards your parents.” He pauses, and Emma’s face suddenly stops on its way down. “I am angry, too.”
Something gets caught in her throat. Oh. No. That’s not it. She was wrong. He doesn’t get it.
She’s not angry. She’s just perpetually followed by a very grey feeling. This feeling has fuzzy legs and arms and they are wrapped tightly around her, at all times. And it sticks, it never falls to the floor, as most fuzzy things do. And it stares at her when she thinks she is happy and it tells her maybe not.
But she doesn’t say it, not that. She leaves it hanging there within the few inches that separate her mouth from Neal’s, and she kisses him.
Because this has to be good enough. This has to be what she deserves.
Neal’s hand comes up to cup her cheek and she kisses him harder. His lips are soft, and his hands softer, but she can’t close her eyes. Instead, she stares at the black horse and his red collar – the one she’s stubbornly avoided looking at.
And she thinks if only she could hate Killian a little, then things would be easier.
.
As time flies by, and fall turns into winter, Emma thinks Killian might have been right about Neal.
When his kisses linger on her neck as she pulls her clothes back on in the back of his car, and there is this very funny feeling in the back of her mouth, and he hands her a big, black bag – that’s probably the sign she was waiting for to run the hell away from him.
But she’s dumb, Emma, and she needs to be very certain that she is making a huge mistake before she can decide to step away.
“I’m going to need you to keep this for a while. But do not open it, Emma,” he tells her, and the poor girl glances at it with a lot of concern but also a complete blind faith.
“Please, tell me it’s not a dead body.”
It makes him chuckle, and he bends towards her to kiss her lightly. She does not smile into his kiss. Something feels very wrong. Her ears are buzzing.
“No, Emma. Don’t worry. And to make sure you keep quiet, here is a gift for you.”
And he takes out of his pocket a very beautiful, very much stolen watch, and Emma tries her best to silence the voices in her head that are, by now, screaming, howling that none of this is right.
But Emma wants to be loved, and she doesn’t listen to them. Surely he must love her if he gave her a gift.
(The bracelet on her right wrist glints under the moonlight. She almost takes it off right then.)
“Thanks Neal,” she eventually whispers. Stars are shining brightly in the window pane, it almost looks like a painting. “I promise I won’t say anything.”
And when she gets out of the car with this big, black bag, she finally figures out what this strange feeling that lingers with her is.
Neal waves at her before disappearing into the night. She waves back.
She feels used. She wanted to feel love and she feels used. Her grip gets firmer over the bag and she walks to Ingrid’s house.
Oh, shut up. Her thoughts are going to ruin everything, again. Just like she ruined things with Killian.
Her bedroom is incredibly cold as she comes in. She left her window open all day. There’s no light in the corridor; Ingrid is fast asleep.
Emma closes the window with tired arms. She cannot quite control the quick peek she takes at the house in front of Ingrid’s. It is forever engulfed in darkness, and she sighs. She wonders if Killian will ever sell it.
She puts down her heavy red coat and her beanie, leaves her boots next to the wall, and lies down on her bed.
Her fingers absently turn the charm around her wrist. She closes her eyes, makes a wish.
Her heart misses a beat when his name flashes on her phone.
“I miss you, Swan. Hope everything is okay. We should call soon.”
A small, salty drop hits her phone as a smile splits her face. She doesn’t know how he knew she needed him. But he knew. And this, this is the only thing that feels right, right now.
Her throat is tight as she texts back. “Miss you, too, Killian. Let’s call this weekend?” She’s still working with Ingrid during the week, and she realizes just how lucky she is. Ingrid doesn’t really need any help, but she’s too kind to tell Emma to find a real job.
“Ah, can’t this weekend, but the next?” Killian’s answer is a slap against her face, a much needed return to reality.
Her room is still so cold. And the stars are of no comfort that night. Why does she feel this sad?
She closes her eyes, one instant, to swallow down her pride and how much she misses him and them.
“No problem. Goodnight, Killian.”
He cannot call because he will be with her. She’s sure of it.
Emma wraps herself in her blanket and it smells of lavender, and she never told Ingrid she doesn’t like lavender, because when Ingrid insists on changing her sheets each week, Emma really feels like maybe she belongs somewhere. But that, she also doesn’t tell her.
“Goodnight, Swan.”
Her phone screen goes black. And just like that, Emma is swallowed once again by this very grey feeling, and she thinks she will never be able to see any colors again.
.
Sometimes life is just a shitstorm of bad luck, isn’t it? Well, at least, that’s what Emma thinks as Ingrid stares at her, with the big, black bag open revealing a good dozen stolen watches, and the one at her wrist simply confesses her crime.
“There are a lot of things I can tolerate under this roof, Emma, but robbery? That’s just un—”
Surely, Ingrid didn’t mean to find it. She was just cleaning her room, but she usually does so on Fridays after spending a week telling Emma she should really clean her room – and it is Thursday and she wasn’t meant to find this bag.
“—I don’t understand how you could possibly think this is okay and I am—”
But Emma isn’t listening. As Ingrid stands in the middle of her room, she is scanning her surroundings as fast as she possibly can.
She’s already packing in her mind. Her ears are ringing and her heart drums in the worst way possible, but she isn’t listening.
This had to happen. It’s fine, actually, because Emma has been saving some money just in case, and really Emma doesn’t mind surviving on her own, it’s what she did for most of her life now, and sure, it was nice having a home at Ingrid’s but it’s over now and it’s fine, she just needs to deal with it –
“Emma!” Ingrid is screaming now, and that she didn’t expect, and Emma takes a step back, hands coming in front of her face to protect herself.
She can’t listen. Her breath comes out in a heave. She sees however that Ingrid is trying to look calmer, she sees the line of her eyebrows become softer. “I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to yell. I shouldn’t have.”
She has a big sigh, Ingrid, and Emma knows she’s trying to tell her. But it’s fine, she wants to tell Ingrid, she already knows, she’s always known.
Ingrid shakes her shoulders and passes by Emma, the bag firm in her hands. Emma’s mouth is still open but no sound is coming out.
“We’ll talk about this, later. For now, clean your room, please.”
And she closes the door behind her, and Emma is swallowing glass suddenly, and she cannot breathe, and she cannot break down, she has to pack and leave, leave, leave, of course, she has to leave.
(Ingrid forgot to ask Emma to give back the watch around her wrist. Emma leaves it anyway, on her desk, with a simple note: “For whatever it’s worth, but I did not steal those watches. Love, Emma.”
Neal’s watch leaves a faint green and purple burn on her skin. It itches painfully.)
.
That night, she boards a bus to New York.
“Emma, are you okay? Why are you calling this late?”
“Would…would it be okay for me to stay for a while with you and David?”
“Of course, honey. But please, tell me what’s going on.”
A big sniffling – Emma’s never learned to cry silently. “I’ll tell you once I get there. I’m taking a night bus. See you, Mary Margaret.”
And just like that, she’s gone, without a look back at this house in which she spent the best moments of her childhood, with Killian, but Killian is gone, and there’s no childhood to look back at.
.
He receives Ingrid’s call, very early on Friday morning as he sips a black coffee in Milah’s kitchen. He is on Christmas leave, but thankfully for him, the Navy has trained Killian to wake up far before the sun – especially in winter.
“Everything okay, Ingrid?” he asks right away, because Ingrid isn’t the type to call just to know how he is doing.
He’s frowning furiously as he examines the world from the safety of this apartment window. Outside, the city of Portsmouth is frozen, as if wrapped in a dark blue dream of snowflakes. The streetlights are still lit up, drawing fireflies that will not fly on the pavement, and winter mornings always did stir something bittersweet in Killian’s belly.
“Killian! I’m so glad I could reach you!” Ingrid’s tone makes Killian’s stomach twist. Can’t she just skip to the part where she tells him what the bloody hell is going on? “It’s Emma,” she finally confesses, and Killian has to put down his coffee mug. It’s as if suddenly somebody opened the window, and the cold, savage winter air swallowed him alive. He’s breathing ice. “She ran away. And I don’t know where she went. And before calling the police, I thought you might know –“
Killian’s mind races. “Ran away? Why?”
“It’s about Neal. He stole watches. It’s a long story, one I wish I could tell you over a fire and –“
“Ingrid!” Wrath escapes his throat. “You have to tell me, did she leave any clue behind?”
But the poor woman is practically sobbing on the other side of the phone, and Killian rolls his eyes.
“No, no, she just left. I’m so sorry, Killian, I didn’t know and now I—”
A big sigh shakes Killian’s shoulders. “It’s going to be okay, Ingrid. I will find her. And Emma can take care of herself, she’s a big girl.”
He ends the conversation as fast he possibly can, takes one sip of coffee and starts his investigation. In front of him, the sun slowly rises, painting the sky in pink, orange and purple clouds.
He knows Emma well enough not to try to call her. She won’t answer. She’ll know Ingrid sent him.
Thus, he calls the next person, besides himself, who might know where the bloody hell Emma Swan is.
“Yes, hello?” answers him a very small, very sleepy voice, and Killian glances at the kitchen clock to discover that it is barely 8am. She’ll hate him, but that’s something he can live with.
“Hi, Mary Margaret. It’s Killian, Killian Jones. We went to high school together.”
There’s an “mmmm” on the other end of the phone, and Killian gathers she knows very well what he is about to ask.
“Would you be hosting a certain nineteen year-old girl? Blonde hair, big, green eyes and freckles.”
There’s a silence then, and he imagines her mind racing at high speed thinking whether she can confide in him or not. (Whether Emma will hate her or not.)
And, finally, “Yes. But Killian, she specifically said she wanted nothing to do with you. So I’m kind of breaking a sacred rule of friendship right now, but I think she really needs you.”
Something cracks inside of him. It makes a gruesome sound. A bird lands on the frozen window ledge; its feathers are of a very tender yellow.
“Alright. You don’t have to tell her I called. I’ll simply call Ingrid back to tell her Emma is safe and sound at yours.”
Another silence, Mary Margaret is almost audibly pondering her words. “…Mmm ‘kay. That seems fair. Bye then, Killian?”
He nods, but it’s to himself only. “Bye, Mary Margaret.” The first rays of sunshine are starting to burn his eyes.
“Why are you on the phone so early?” Milah’s voice suddenly resonates in the kitchen, and he turns to face her sleepy features.
He forces a smile on his face. “Family call,” he explains casually, but Milah frowns. She must know he’s lying.
“I thought you were an orphan?”
He licks his lower lips. Well, that wasn’t very nice of her. She just woke up, let the damn woman breathe.
“Aye, indeed, love. I still have some family left, though.”
He thinks she sees a flicker of pain in his eyes because she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses the side of his jaw. “Sorry, baby. That wasn’t very clever of me to say,” she already smells of menthol against his lips, “I’m so glad we’re spending this weekend together.”
Killian winces, as she drops kisses all along his neck. “About that, love…”
.
Mary Margaret would make an incredible mother, Emma thinks as the petite brunette tiptoes through the living room – so as to not wake up Emma.
It’s Saturday morning, but Mary Margaret is an early bird. She’s already wearing clothes that shouldn’t be worn ever, especially not on a Saturday morning – Saturdays and Sundays are for pajamas, that is the sacred law.
Emma feels good, buried beneath thousands of blankets that smell like soap, and she wants to remain like this forever, with nobody to ask her anything and no responsibility. Emma, you might need to confront reality, one of these days.
She grunts as her friend switches on the kettle for some well-need needed coffee, and Emma turns on the sofa.
Mary Margaret has been living alone in New York for a year and a half now. David decided to stay in Storybrooke in order to follow in the footsteps of sheriff Graham, but they’ve been making this long distance relationship work. Emma isn’t surprised, what they share is unique and precious.
Last week, David joined Mary Margaret for the Christmas break, and Emma thinks she really is a big smear on their perfect little lives.
Except that, when Emma sees her friend start to whip eggs, although it’s barely nine, and she does so with such a big smile on her lips, Emma thinks that maybe she isn’t that much of a bother.
Gathering up courage, she swings her legs out of her improvised bed and stretches loudly to let her host know she is awake.
“Ah! Emma! Good morning!” Mary Margaret smiles instantly, and Emma thinks she really is a ray of sunshine. “Hope I didn’t wake you up.”
She even makes Emma smile, and that says a lot, because Emma does not smile in the morning.
“ ’Morning, Mary Margaret. No, don’t worry. I was already awake. How are you?”
The whipping intensifies as Emma makes her way to the kitchenette, shuffling her feet on the warm carpeted floor.
“I’m really good!” And then a frown. “How are you, Emma?”
A really big sigh shakes Emma’s shoulders then, as she glances at her phone on the living room table.
“I’m okay, I guess. Better, anyway.”
She spent the whole trip to New York trying to call Neal. He never answered. She doesn’t know what she expected. Everyone keeps leaving.
“I’m sure things will work out, with Ingrid—” Mary Margaret is trying to cheer her up but her words are stumbling over each other.
And Emma is tired, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.
“I know, Mary Margaret. My reaction might have been harsh, now that I’m not in the heat of the moment anymore –“ That was indeed very Emma of her, to let all hell break loose at the slightest inconvenience.
“—Yeah, my point is, Ingrid never asked you to leave…”
And Emma frowns because Mary Margaret’s words stir something nasty and painful inside of her. Clearly she was wrong, she is a bother, she always has been, Mary Margaret is trying to tell her to leave, and it’s fine really, and then, then – the doorbell rings and Emma has to keep all of her emotions bottled up inside. Her eyes twitch. She didn’t get much sleep last night.
Mary Margaret quickly squeezes her arm, but Emma backs away and returns to the couch with a lump in her throat she cannot swallow down.
She made a mistake coming here, thinking she could rely on other people, thinking she had friends…
And then, one name echoes in Mary Margaret’s apartment.
“Killian? It’s been so long! What are you doing here?”
Mary Margaret is really a pitiful liar but Emma’s heart has already caught fire as she stands up like the devil and reaches the front door in a few long strides. Her ribcage is about to explode.
There he is. How dare he.
Why does it feel like coming home?
Emma fists her hands as exhausted blue eyes meet hers, and she gathers he took the first flight to see her. Of course he did.
“Hello, Swan.”
Oh, how much she wants to be angry. She wants to scream at him, but then her chin starts trembling and her legs wobbling and she cannot breathe and her body cannot handle the distance between them and… She doesn’t know who reaches first, but then her hands are in his hair and he is lifting her off the ground and she’s hugging him with all of this despair, all of this sadness in her chest, and she wants him to feel bad for what he did to her.
And all of the emotions she tried to bury rise at once, consume her completely, and she’s sobbing in the crook of his neck, until there are no more tears and no more her but him, and his scent, and his everything, and may he never let her go again.
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Some people have advised me to set a tag list, so I took the liberty of tagging those of you who liked/reblogged this but please!!! do tell me if you wish to be removed from this list -- no offense will be taken and the last thing I want is to bother you aha :’)) <3
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#cs ff#captain swan#cs fanfics#my stuff#love emma#love rosie au#do leave me your thoughts aha <33 they are always most welcome
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