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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

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Sunset Swerve - Part 8

Pairing: Luke x OC

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: some light swearing

A/N: For some reason I really want to say ‘We’re in the endgame now” about this chapter but its not true? We’re in like the mid-game lol. Anyway, shoutout to @meangirlsx who unknowingly inspired some of the dialog between Luke and Jordan in this chapter with her tags on a previous chapter. Send me a message if you’d like to be added to the taglist and, as always, let me know what you think!

Part 7 Masterlist

___

When they arrived back in the studio, they had not expected it to be filled with music.

Julie grinned at them from behind her keyboard and everyone else stopped playing at their arrival.

“Grab your guitars, we’ve got work to do.” Even without saying it, it was obvious that the girl had forgiven Luke and Jordan wondered what Alex and Reggie had said to her.

Jordan did as she said, heading to her stand and slinging the strap of her electric across her body while Luke headed straight toward Julie.

“What made you come back?” He asked the question Jordan had been wondering herself.

“I realized how much music meant to all of us, and we’ve lost so much already.” The way Julie said it made it seem like she knew more than Jordan would’ve expected and she wondered again what the boys had told her. “We can’t lose this too.”

“Thanks,” Luke nodded thoughtfully, slipping the strap of his guitar across his body. “Alright boss, where we at?”

Julie smiled, settling into her place at the keyboard before leaning forward again. “Oh, and by the way, happy birthday.”

The genuine smile that drew from Luke sent a pang through her chest and she frowned, wondering if it was another one of those jolts. However, as she looked around she noticed none of the boys felt it. Oh hell, she cursed herself silently. She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly missed Julie’s instructions to start at the pre-chorus.

Jordan was grateful for the distraction of the music, all her focus going into singing and playing, no room for stupid thoughts about stupid boys. Practice ended too quickly for Jordan’s taste but she knew realistically that Julie needed time to get ready and travel to the venue while they could just poof around. She just needed Luke to do something stupid so that she could remember why she hated him because her stupid smooth brain (Julie taught her that) had forgotten it.

Instead, he turned and directed his dopey smile at her and she swore she nearly swooned.

“We are gonna rock those managers’ faces off!” He exclaimed as they put their instruments away.

Jordan grinned back at him, silently blaming it on the rush of playing well and having a performance soon. She was always more agreeable around music. Out of the corner of her eye though she thought she saw Reggie and Alex share a knowing look and she glared at them suspiciously.

“Yeah man, it’s gonna be awesome,” Alex responded to Luke and the rest of the ghosts nodded in agreement as they shuffled around the studio getting ready for the performance.

Jordan decided to keep the outfit she’d been wearing all day, fishnets and her old black Madonna t-shirt under a pair of overall shorts and her Docs. With her outfit and hair already taken care of thanks to Past Jordan, she was just left to slap on some makeup, thankful that she hadn’t done it before she’d spent the afternoon crying. Luke sat down on the couch next to her, watching curiously as she worked.

“Do you mind?” She asked, looking away from the small mirror Julie had lent her to stare blankly at the boy.

“Nope!” He responded cheekily and she groaned, turning back to her mirror and her eyeliner.

She’d finally managed to get the wings down again, making only one mistake this time, so the process went by fairly quickly.

“Do you need me to do yours?” She deadpanned, turning to stare at Luke who was still watching her.

“Nah,” he breathed, smiling cheekily at her as he flipped his imaginary hair over his shoulder. “I’m naturally gorgeous, I don’t need makeup.”

Jordan gasped.

“Asshole!” She exclaimed, smacking his shoulder but laughing anyway. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday or it would be on sight for that.”

“‘On sight’?” Luke asked, puzzled.

“Some twenty-first-century lingo Julie taught me,” Jordan explained superiorly. “Basically means I’d fight you as soon as I saw you.”

Luke nodded lightly, eyes going wide at the threat but slowly a mischievous look began to take over his face.

“Hey Alex, Reg, who would win in a fight? Me or Jordan?” Luke called out and Jordan rolled her eyes, putting away her makeup stash.

“Jordan,” they both answered at the same time and Jordan laughed, giving them both high fives as she returned her makeup to her designated cubby in the back of the studio (they’d had to create an official organization system because the boys tended to just take anything they found and claim it as their own).

Luke pouted, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed like a petulant child as he glared at his bandmates.

“Sorry, man,” Alex shrugged, “Have you seen her boots? She’d absolutely curb stomp you without a second thought.”

Reggie nodded and Luke huffed, standing up from the couch and making his way to the door.

“You guys are mean,” he whined. “I’m gonna tell Julie.”

He’d meant it to be a threat but the other three ghosts weren’t fulling listening, only hearing Julie’s name.

“Oooh, I wanna see Julie!” Reggie exclaimed and Alex and Jordan responded with a chorus of ‘Me too!’s and ’Same!’s as they began clamoring around the furniture in the studio in a race to the door.

Luke rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath as he followed after them.

When they arrived at Julie’s door, Reggie held his arms out dramatically, effectively halting the movement of the three ghosts behind him. Once he felt sure they weren’t just going to barge in he stuck his arm through the door, knocking three times while the other ghosts rolled their eyes or laughed.

“What are you guys doing?” They heard Julie ask through the door and Reggie stuck his whole torso through.

“We’re being classy,” Jordan snorted at that and Luke huffed, pulling Reggie back through by his belt loops.

With Reggie out of the way, Luke stepped through the door but at the sight of the girl sitting on her bed, all thoughts of tattling left his mind.

“What’re you doing? We go on in twenty minutes,” he asked as the rest of the ghosts stepped through.

Julie was sitting on the bed doodling on her mic, still in her clothes from earlier.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“I lied to my dad,” Julie explained forlornly, “So now I’m stuck in my room all night.”

“Yeah but like, the venue is packed with VIPs and managers,” Alex protested and Joran hit his arm.

“She’s grounded, the presence of VIPs and managers isn’t going to change that,” she huffed and Julie gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“What’re we gonna do about my aunt? She’s right downstairs.”

“Your aunt,” Luke repeated, chuckling as he crossed the room, throwing open her bedroom window. “You’re not taking the stairs.”

Jordan opened her mouth to defend the girl, never having been as big a fan of going around her parents’ backs as the guys had been, but before she could say anything Julie grinned at the group of ghosts.

“Okay. Let me get dressed, I’ll meet you guys there,” she said and the guys all grinned while Jordan looked at her nervously.

“Are you sure, Julie?” She asked warily and Luke whacked her arm with the back of his hand.

“Moss, don’t change her mind!” He hissed and Julie laughed.

“Thanks for the concern Jo,” she said, giving the girl a kind smile and Jordan felt her heart warm at the new nickname. “But it’s fine. We have managers to impress.”

She nodded and the ghosts prepared to poof out to the venue when Jordan stopped them again.

“Wait!”

“What now, Moss?” Luke groaned.

“I wanna grab my flannel.”

“Why?”

“It’s chilly.”

“You’re a ghost you can’t-“

“Shut up.” She said, ending their back and forth by poofing into the studio and grabbing one of her flannels from her cubby.

When she poofed back to Julie’s room the boys were gone and Julie was sifting through the trunk in her room.

“The guys went ahead to the venue,” Julie explained and Jordan nodded.

“Alright, I’ll see you there then,” Jordan nodded. “By the way, that vest is super cool.”

Julie smiled in thanks before Jordan poofed away to meet the guys at the venue.

___

The announcer had just called Dirty Candy to the stage when Julie arrived.

“Am I too late?” She asked, slightly out of breath.

“Too early,” Flynn huffed, gesturing up to where Carrie was taking the stage.

Jordan couldn’t figure out how she felt about Dirty Candy. On one hand, Carrie was the spawn of a fraud who she’d always hated and Carrie was mean to Julie and Flynn but on the other hand, the group was really talented and she loved their sound. She supposed it was like her feelings towards Sunset Curve, she loved the music but hated the musicians.

“Wait, did she just make a big show of putting on sunglasses just to throw them away in the first verse?” Jordan laughed, furrowing her brow in confusion at the choreography.

“Shhhh,” Alex hushed her, staring enthralled at the performance.

Before they knew what was happening he was on the stage, dancing with the group.

Jordan whooped excitedly, cheering him on while the rest of the group exchanged looks of surprise.

“You having fun out there?” Julie questioned when Alex poofed back to the group.

“It’s not my fault. It’s my, um… it’s my feet.” Alex gulped.

“Yeah,” Julie said, clearly not believing.

“Put me back in coach,” Alex breathed, poofing back to the stage.

“Why have we been keeping him behind the drums?” Jordan joked as they watched him dance out the rest of the song. “He’s got moves.”

Reggie nodded enthusiastically in agreement, their eyes never leaving the stage.

“I was just doing that for you guys,” Alex said when he returned and everyone expressed varying forms of disbelief.

“Mhmm,” Julie hummed while Luke and Jordan rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, you can’t stop smiling now,” Reggie smirked knowingly and Alex blushed.

“That was, actually kinda good,” Julie admitted, looking as though she’d rather cut her tongue off than admit it. Jordan knew what that was like.

“Yeah, I forgot why I hate her so much,” Flynn agreed.

“Hi girls,” Carrie said in her overly-perky voice as she made her way over with her entourage in tow. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Now I remember,” Flynn pursed her lips, glaring at Carrie and Jordan snorted.

“If you’re looking for nick, he didn’t come,” Carrie addressed Julie coldly.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Julie scoffed, squaring up to the pink-haired girl.

“Okay, we have one more act tonight,” The announcer called, reading off the list on stage. “Julie and the Fat Ones?”

Dirty Candy snickered while the rest of them turned to glare at Luke.

“Yeah man, my handwriting sucks,” he admitted and Julie shook her head, making her way onto the stage while Carrie and her group stomped off.

“Hey. It’s actually Julie and the Phantoms,” Julie greeted the audience, quickly realizing they didn’t seem to care. “Okay.”

Jordan rocked back and forth on her heels excitedly as Julie placed her hands on the keyboard, beginning the song.

“Hearts on fire. We’re no liars, so we say what we wanna say,” she sang, the apathetic audience starting to pay attention. “I’m awakened, no more faking. So we push all our fears away.”

“Don’t know if I’ll make it cause I’m falling under. Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder.”

Jordan took a deep breath, steadying herself as their time to join in approached. She reached out, grabbing Alex and Reggie’s hands on either side of her repeating the small ritual Apollo 81 had always done before going on stage.

“I wanna fly, come alive, watch me shine,” As Julie sang the refrain Jordan squeezed the boys’ hands comfortingly, letting go just in time for them to poof onstage.

“I got a spark in me. Hands up if you can see and you’re apart of me. Hands up if you’re with me,” Luke joined Julie for the chorus as she made her way out from the piano to center stage. Jordan immediately made her way over to Reggie, the two ghosts rocking out together in front of Alex’s drum set. The mood in the venue had become electric, everyone’s interests piqued by their sudden appearance. “Now till eternity. Hands up if you believe. Been so long and now we’re finally free.”

Luke joined her and Reggie on Alex’s platform, giving Julie the stage as she sang the second verse. As arranged, Jordan hopped down, joining Julie for the pre-chorus.

“We know we can make it, we’re not falling down under,” they sang together, Jordan taking the lower harmonies. They’d bonded a lot after the dance, they could see it in each other’s smiles. It felt good to be performing together. “Close my eyes and feel my chest beating like thunder.”

“I wanna fly, come alive,” Jordan started the refrain with her before backing off to give her the final line. Rejoining Luke and Reggie in the back. “Watch me shine.”

The three guitarists jumped down from the platform as the chorus hit, Luke immediately taking up the mic next to Julie as he joined her in the chorus again, Reggie and Jordan singing the background vocals on either side of them and Alex in the back. At one point in the chorus, Reggie made his way over to Jordan’s mic, the two singing together briefly before he bounced over to Luke, finally returning to his own mic as they hit the bridge.

Luke and Julie took up center stage as they shared a mic, singing through the call and response bridge. The two had obvious chemistry and as Jordan watched she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She passed it off as just nerves, she was about to pick up the chorus after all, and exchanged smiles with Alex and Reggie, the two boys calming her down.

The crowd roared as they hit the chorus for the final time, Reggie and Jordan leaning into their mics as they joined the chorus.

“I got a spark in me. Hands up if you can see, and you’re a part of me. Hands up if you’re with me…” They sang through the chorus, Jordan taking up Julie’s part so that she could riff off the vocals. They’d decided the final run-through of the chorus was the perfect place to really show off Julie’s pipes.

As the song wound down, the three guitarists backed off again, leaving Julie to sing the last “Finally free” on her own.

The crowd erupted into cheers when the song ended. Jordan sung her guitar to the side as they all took a bow, the four ghosts disappearing. They reappeared at the back of the venue, sitting on the countertop of the bar and giving Julie huge thumbs-ups as she finished out their performance.

“Thank you. We’re Julie and the Phantoms,” she said into the mic, soaking up the applause before adding with a wink to her ghost band, “Tell your friends.”

The four phantoms nearly lost their minds at that, all of them whacking each other’s limbs as they yelled excitedly. They were only starting to calm down when Julie bounded over to where they were sitting behind Flynn, giving her best friend a hug before grinning at the ghosts.

“You were incredible!” Flynn gushed to her friend.

“Yeah, we were!” Reggie exclaimed and Julie rolled her eyes slightly with a grin.

Just when Jordan thought the night couldn’t get any better, a woman in a power suit started making her way over to them, gracefully dodging Dirty Candy on her way.

“She looks all business,” Alex whispered and Jordan nodded.

“Wait! Who should do the talking?” Reggie panicked before looking around at the group, all of them giving him looks that said ‘really?’ “Oh, right, Julie.” He nodded.

“You’ve got this,” Luke whispered as the woman approached, sticking out her hand in introduction.

“Hi I’m Andi Parker and I would love to-“ she began but was cut off.

“Julie,” Ray called sternly from behind and everyone’s eyes widened.

“It’s time to go.” He said and Julie gulped, dropping Andi’s hand.

Oh shit.

Part 9

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JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297

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grifalinas · 3 years

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Batter Up (working title) (Chapter 5)

-/-

Flint took Radley with him to help bring back lunch, and while they waited for their orders, he finally calmed down enough to actually talk.

“You knew about Deacon, didn’t you,” he asked.

“I knew he was lying about his age,” Radley said. “He was at school with me, he graduated last summer. He used to give me a hard time.”

“That why you were fighting?”

Radley nodded, a little embarrassed. “It felt like a chance to finally get my own back, so I thought I’d try needling him a bit. I wasn’t expecting him to swing on me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t kidding, you know, I take responsibility for us fighting.”

“Yeah, well.” Flint gave him a sour look. “I don’t like him lying about being able to bake. That’s what I need him for.”

“Not really.” Radley gestured vaguely at himself. “You taught me all your recipes since I was a toddler, I could make them blindfolded, and by the time school lets back in you’ll be able to hire someone else. Demand probably won’t be super high after the first week we’re open, and if it is, you’ll be able to afford more employees anyway.”

“All the more reason to fire him, then.” He huffed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, then huffed again and slipped a sequined scrunchy from his wrist to pull it all back with a grumble. “What do I need him for when I’ve got you?”

“He can run the front and be an extra set of hands, since Mr. Bassington can’t do any heavy lifting and won’t let Eddie. Actually I feel like Deacon will really thrive if you put him doing heavy lifting.”

“I have you to do my heavy lifting.”

“I’m still a minor. I’m pretty sure those liabilities apply to me, too, and Mr. Bassington just looked the other way. But he’s not going to for very long.”

Flint leaned back in his chair with a groan. “What in the world has Raphael gotten me into? That man is way too controlling.”

“He’s doing his job.”

Flint let out a frustrated little growl. “Changed your tune, have you?”

“He makes a better second impression. Things have gone way smoother with him organizing everything. And he puts his money where his mouth is when it comes to protecting his employees. He isn’t just worried about legal issues, he really does try to protect the people under him.”

There was a long silence, and Radley added, a little hesitantly, “You looked like you were about to start swinging on Deacon earlier.”

“I wanted to,” Flint admitted. “I like to think I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head. “But there’s no way for Sam to have known one way or another.”

There was another long silence, Flint mulling over the Deacon situation while Radley scrolled social media in an idle sort of way. Finally Flint sighed and slumped, a little defeated.

“Guess I owe the kid an apology,” he said. “And Sammy, too…”

-/-

Samuel felt it might help cool Flint’s temper a little if the kitchen was cleaned up by the time he got back, so he set Deacon and Eddie to do that while he went back to supervising the work crew and getting everything else done.

While Radley and Deacon appeared to have declared each other public enemy number one, Deacon seemed to have no such animosity for Eddie, though the two had interacted little thus far. Eddie seemed intent on making up for this discrepancy now that they were working on a task together, though.

“-and Mr. Bassington says he’s going to introduce me to Rosie and we’re going to be best friends so I’m trying to decide what things I like that he didn’t mention her liking that I should try to introduce her to and I’m thinking of seeing if she listens to Angel DJ on the radio because that’s my favorite radio show and if she gets into music through Angel DJ then we can get into music on the same path instead of both of us discovering stuff, not that that isn’t fun but it’s really fun to find stuff together, me and Radley used to get into stuff through Angel DJ together all the time but then he stopped really caring much about getting into music except as something fun to play while you do other stuff and I like music as something that exists in its own right and should be experienced by itself too and Radley doesn’t like looking up stuff about the artists like how what I do so he’s not fun but I bet maybe I hope that Rosie will be into music like how what I’m into music so we can be into music together.”

Deacon gave her a second to make sure that was actually the end of the sentence and poked his head out of the oven he was cleaning to ask, “What’s Angel DJ?”

“It’s a radio show! Angel is just some guy, he broadcasts from his apartment and he isn’t tied to any specific radio station so he can just play whatever he likes, so he just plays stuff he’s into. He’s been on a bit of an eighties rock kick lately, and he’s playing a lot of Queen stuff so I’ve been really getting into them, I was watching videos of their performances on the internet and they’re SO cool.”

Deacon laughed. “No arguments there. I learned to play on Queen songs.”

“You play?” She lit up. “What do you play?! I don’t play anything, I kinda wouldn’t mind learning but I can’t even pick anything because I hear a song and I think ‘boy it’d be fun to play that I bet’ but there’s so many different parts that go into it that I just end up getting bogged down. What do you play? Guitar? Drums? Keys?”

“Uh… well I main bass, but I can do electric…” He rocked back on his heels to tick off on his fingers. “...Mother made me learn piano and violin so I can do keys and violin, and I was percussion ensemble in high school so most basic percussion, though I’m not great at drums, and I sing.”

Eddie stared at him with stars in her eyes and squeaked out, “That’s so cool~”

He opened his mouth to say he wouldn’t mind playing for her sometime, if she was into that, and was interrupted by the return of Flint and Radley. He clammed up, returning to the oven without a word, leaving Eddie to go help get the food unpacked and call the crew in. He listened to her chattering about how Deacon could play and liked Queen and wasn’t that SO cool?, and stilled to listen to their response.

“You don’t think it’s cool that I like Queen,” Radley said.

“That’s because you just like listening to them. Deacon learned to play on Queen songs.”

“You play?” Flint asked, when Deacon finally emerged from the oven to join them for lunch.

“He mains bass!” Eddie chirped before Deacon could answer.

“I like music,” he said. “It’s a good distraction.” There was a beat, and, seeing the opening, he added, “Sometimes I play with the house band next door, when one of their permanent musicians can’t make it. You should come hear me play sometime.”

Eddie lit up again. “Oh, can we? Can we, Uncle Flint? Please? Can’t we? Please can we?”

“We’ll… see,” he said, a little uncomfortable. “I think taking you kids into a bar is one of those things your old man would kick my ass for.”

Eddie deflated like a three month old birthday balloon. “I’m never going to be old enough to do anything fun.”

“And once you are you’re going to be carded for years,” Flint agreed, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “Sorry, kiddo, that’s just how it is.”

This got a huff, and she batted his hands away before turning to pout at her lunch.

“Sorry,” Deacon said, shuffling a little. “I wasn’t thinking about the age thing, I guess…”

-/-

After lunch, once everyone had gotten back to work, Flint decided to talk to Samuel first. His partner was guiding two of their contractors through putting up the menu boards; Flint took hold of his arm to get his attention, and startled back when Samuel jerked his arm back as if Flint’s touch had burned him.

“Sorry-” they both attempted at the same time, and Flint shook his head before jerking his head toward the office. “Can we talk?”

Samuel paused, and looked to the contractors, but they seemed to have the menu boards under control so he nodded and the two headed back to the office.

“I’m sorry,” Samuel began, before Flint could say anything. “I’m- sensitive to touch sometimes.”

Flint waved that away as unimportant. “I wanted to talk to you about earlier. I owe you an apology, and a thank you.”

“I don’t think I’m the one you owe an apology to.”

“I know. The kid’ll get one in a little while, I just want to get my thoughts in order before I talk to him.”

He sat down in his chair, and Samuel followed suit with a nod of approval. “Smart call.”

“Yeah, turns out I got a couple of braincells kicking around in here.” He cracked a lopsided smirk and then shook his head. “Anyway. I also wanted to thank you. I can’t say for sure that I wasn’t going to swing on the kid, even if I’d like to think I wouldn’t, but I can say for sure if I had you would have stopped me. I appreciate that.”

Samuel opened his mouth to say something, then shut it and shrugged. “We have a responsibility to protect the people we employ, and that includes from each other. I take that seriously.”

“Not a lot of people do.” He leaned his chair back with a sigh. “I wonder if that’s why Raphael sent you to me? She knows I got a temper. I’m a little impulsive, too. And I don’t always think things through…”

“To protect your employees from you? I doubt that. She seemed very invested in your success, and I don’t think she would be if she thought you were the sort to abuse your employees.”

“Not so much that, just someone to curb my impulses when they might have collateral damage.”

“Ah, right. That makes more sense.”

Flint watched him for another quiet moment, taking a few seconds to enjoy his rigid, perfectly controlled posture that did nothing to diminish the amount of him there was- here was a man who had never been taught to take up less space, though paradoxically his presence seemed to invite others into the space he was already occupying. Flint was struck with a bizarre desire to press into his side, enjoy his warmth while they shared… something, anything, it didn’t matter.

He shook the thought away.

“So if she sent you to keep me in line, what did she mean for you to get out of it? Think maybe she wants me to loosen you up?”

“Given she’s applied the words ‘tightly wound’ to me more than a few times in our friendship, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“You ever think Raph secretly wants to produce a sitcom? That’d explain all the odd couple situations she’s always setting up.”

Samuel chuckled softly at that, and Flint suddenly felt as if he’d been shot through the throat.

He must be staring, because Samuel was giving him a confused look. “Everything okay?”

“Wh-? Oh, yeah. Fine. Just didn’t know you were capable of laughing, that’s all.”

“Maybe if you didn’t run off every time your niece starts talking…”

Flint let out a startled bark of laughter at that. “Yeah? Try living with her, pal. I need a break sometimes, you know. Your girl a chatterbox too?”

“No, she’s very quiet. You’d hardly know she was there half the time.”

“When are you bringing her around? Eddie’s not going to stop pestering yout about it until you do.”

Another of those laughs that made Flint feel like curling his toes up. “To be honest, I’m hoping I can get some of the anticipation to wear off. Rosie is so wonderful but Eddie’s hopes are so high.”

“You’ll never do that. Eddie doesn’t curb her enthusiasm, she just gets more tightly wound up until she finally experiences the thing she’s excited about. We took her to an amusement park to see this singer she was into once and she got so excited she threw up. Keep putting it off and you’re just perpetuating the problem.”

“Hmm.” Samuel seemed a little put out by that, and stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I suppose I could have Theresa drop her off tomorrow? I’m sure she’ll be interested in seeing what we’ve got going on here anyway. She’s very nosy, though she’ll never admit that.”

Flint grinned. “Sounds like a plan!”

-/-

Unfortunately, after his chat with Samuel, Flint had to bite the bullet and talk to Deacon. He didn’t want to. He was still furious with the kid, still wouldn’t really mind just tossing him out and letting him be someone else’s problem.

But whatever he felt about Deacon’s choices, he had behaved far worse, and if he wanted to be the sort of man his kids could look up to, he had to be the sort of man that owned up when he misstepped. So he told Samuel to send the kid in, and took a seat behind his desk and tried not to look like he was sulking too hard over having to apologize.

Deacon slouched in like a spooked animal, like he fully expected Flint to start yelling at him again and, oof, that was fair. Suddenly apologizing felt a lot more doable and a lot more important.

“Siddown, kid, I’m not gonna bite you,” Flint said, waving vaguely at the second desk chair that Samuel usually occupied. “I just wanna talk. And I owe you an apology. I shouldn’t have blown up like that.”

Deacon shrugged, like that didn’t factor to him, and said, in a rushed sort of way, “I’m not sorry about lying. Everyone lies on their resume and they even advise that.”

“They also advise learning how to fake the thing you’re saying you can do,” Flint said. “But that wasn’t really the issue, and you and I both know it.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. Deacon shifted a little in his seat, and said, “It’s cause of the help comment, isn’t it?”

Flint nodded. “I got my recipes from my ma,” he said. “She was an amazing cook, and an even better baker. She taught me and my si- brother coming up, but I was the one who really took to it.” He was silent for a long moment, thinking back to those days with his mother, explaining how every aspect of the recipe worked with every other aspect of the recipe, how to know if the process was working and how to figure out what was missing when it was.

Then he shook his head, dispelling the memory, and went on.

“Ma was a personal chef, she cooked for a lot of wealthy families. Made sure they always had a hot meal waiting without any effort on their part. You know how much thanks she got for it?”

Deacon was shrinking in his chair now, the full realization of what he’d implied hitting him. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean…”

Flint gave him a few more seconds of discomfort before saying, “You should be. That’s the kinda toxic shit you gotta start unlearning now you’re on your own. There’s people out there without a tenth of what you’ve been handed that are worth ten times that, and you’re gonna be surrounded by them now. But. That don’t mean I gotta treat you like that. You’ll never learn like that.”

He leaned back in his chair, waiting in case Deacon had anything to put in, but the kid just stayed staring at the floor. Flint wondered what was going through his head, what he was thinking. If he was taking in what Flint was getting at, or just writing him off as some angry chef’s boy.

“As for your future here… I’ve handed you over to Sammy. Not just because you pissed me off, but also that. I don’t trust my temper enough to be directly in charge of you. But you still answer to both of us. I’m still your boss; Sam is just your direct supervisor.”

Deacon nodded, still staring down at the floor. Flint squinted at him, wondering where all of his fight had gone.

Hmm.

“Hey, kid. Why’d your old man cut you off? What was the decision you made that offended him?”

And, oh, there it was. Deacon bristled up like a rooster with a temper and said, “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“There it is. Knew you were in there somewhere. All right, go on, get back to work. Go on.”

He shooed him away; Deacon slouched out in a hurry, before Flint could start Talking To Him again.

-/-

#made the chapter longer and i think that helped the rushed feeling a lot #for the second draft i'll expand the first four chapters a bit to make them feel less rushed #this is way better #please don't reblog this! simply commenting will suffice!#batter up (working title)

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casual-eumetazoa · 4 years

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thanks for the prompt @confused-android ! oof, took me longer to write this than i thought (or actually it took me like an hour but i postponed it till my exams were almost over). first - the word “enthralled”? i vibe with it. second - this kinda turned into a vaguely brotzly piece with some autism acceptance on the side, hope that’s okay. third… hope you like this! so here goes

———————

The Case of the Stolen Flower Basket (as dubbed, unofficially, by Dirk) started out on a more relaxed note than most of their cases: in a flowershop, with a stolen basket. A basket, mind you, that was stolen in broad daylight from a closed room, under mysterious circumstances.

It also started with Dirk ending up in a flowershop, accidentally, while he was trying to find an ice-cream place. And it wasn’t even a case then, as much as Dirk’s brief but intense obsession with closed room mysteries, but I digress.

Point is, a basket was missing, a basket thief was at large, and the holistic crew of the holistic detective agency found themselves in a huge abandoned storing space, following up on a “lead”. Todd, Dirk and Farah walked the damp bleak corridors, opening any block that seemed suspicious. Most of them did, and most contained a truly bizarre collection of items.

One was filled up entirely with broken IKEA furniture. One was stuffed to the brim with an assortment of left shoes. And, perhaps most unsettling, one consisted of nothing but headless dolls of various shapes and sizes, along with some disfigured plush animals.

-What the hell was this place? – Todd wondered, prying open yet another door.

Behind it was an empty space, containing exactly one chair with exactly one empty jar perched on the edge of its seat.

-The warehouse of a profoundly odd collector. – Dirk proclaimed. – He… had an excess of money, and wanted to collect things, but the normal things people collect like stamps or candy wrappers were too boring for him, so he did this instead.

-Found anything important? – Farah’s voice echoed against the crumbling walls.

-Yes! – Dirk yelled back.

-No. – Todd corrected, then turned back to Dirk. – An eccentric collector then huh? – Evidently, he had decided to entertain Dirk’s guess. – What about this one then?

He pointed at the nearest door and immediately proceeded to kick it down. It was meant to be a slight push, but instead the door caved in completely, slipping off its hinges and crashing against the floor with a deafening metal rumble.

-Sorry! – Todd bit his lip.

He saw Dirk wince and then almost shrivel up at the sound, arms pulled suddenly towards his chest, as if trying to protect himself from the noise.

Noises. Dirk did not do well with them. And Todd knew that all too well.

-Sorry. – He repeated. – I didn’t mean to do… that.

-It’s fine. – Dirk mumbled, trying his best to shake off the feeling and get back into investigative mood. – What’s in it then?

They stepped over the dilapidated door and into the tight storage space. Inside it were a few pieces of old furniture, half a dozen sealed boxes, at least a whole heap of sawdust, and…

-Todd! – Dirk really did try to tone down the enthusiasm, but alas. – Look!

First, Todd noticed Dirk’s flapping arms, and the smile on his face, and felt his own lips stretch into a grin. Only then he turned to check what was in there, and realized that the wall of the storage space was lined up with various musical instruments. Guitars, mostly; electric, acoustic, even toy ones…

-It’s your thing! – Dirk beamed.

-Yeah. – Todd agreed. – It’s my thing.

He approached the wall and picked up one of the guitars.

-It’s expensive. – He declared, and checked the instrument for any signs of wear and tear. – And new. Damn. – He went slowly through the collection. – Well, these aren’t the very top of the chain, but they’re fancier than I used to have.

He took one of the electric guitars – a slick, bright red beauty – and held it gently in his hands. He hadn’t played guitar since he bashed his last one against the wall of the Ridgley building… that happened less than a year prior, and yet it seemed a lifetime away.

-Can we take some? – Dirk asked, then, not waiting for a reply, picked out one of the guitars at random. – They’re no-ones so it doesn’t count as stealing.

-I guess I could take one or two. – Todd agreed. – They’re as good as thrown out at this point. No use for them collecting dust in here.

-Where the hell are you two? – Farah’s voice chimed through the corridor.

-Over here! – Dirk shouted back.

-Ugh. – Todd muttered. – I have to pick now. Wait. Actually… - He looked at the guitar he had in his hands, then the one Dirk was still holding, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. – Those two are good. Let’s go.

-Guys. – Farah nearly avoided a collision with the broken door as she entered the storage space. – You should see this. Now. – She paused. – I think I found a skeleton.

The guitars were then stashed in the corner, and waited patiently for their new owner to crawl on all fours into a basement, poke some human bones with a stick, and emerge – dusty, exhausted, and deeply confused.

The evening was slow and peaceful. While Farah was busy making phone calls and trying to arrange for someone to examine, discretely and unofficially, a mysterious unidentified skeleton, Todd and Dirk stayed in Todd’s apartment. Or, rather, at the apartment that used to be Todd’s. He didn’t remember the last time he had a dinner there, and besides, Dirk spent more nights than not in the guest bedroom, so it was really their apartment.

-Do you have any ideas about how the basket connects to the skeleton yet? – Todd asked, placing two cups of tea on the table.

He didn’t have to ask Dirk what he wanted; he knew his (rather narrow) range of food and drink preferences by heart.

-Not a clue. – Dirk admitted, and raised his gaze to the ceiling, staring attentively at some smudge. – I think we should go to Claire’s house.

-Why the owner’s house? – Todd asked.

-Feels relevant. – Dirk shrugged, eyes still focused on the smudge. – Oh. – He turned in his seat suddenly. – The guitars! Can you play for me?

Todd sighed. He anticipated this happening.

-Well, - he said, - I can’t play the electric one cause you need equipment for it and we didn’t steal any, and I haven’t played an acoustic guitar in like two years, but…

-I don’t care if it’s not your best or some equally stupid excuse. – Dirk interrupted him. – You know I’ll be impressed no matter what.

Todd laughed shortly, and nodded. It was true – Dirk was impressed and excited by seemingly everything, from the fluffy blanket assortment at Walmart (he had to touch every. single. one.) to the Sacred Wisdom shared with him by Todd that the number on the package of pasta tells you how long it will take to cook it. Dirk was also somehow oblivious to his own talents, insisting that connecting eleven entirely unrelated pieces of information into a complete narrative was “simple” and “obvious”.

-Fine. – Todd caved in, and got up to fetch the acoustic guitar. – But I probably won’t know the cords of the songs you like.

Considering that Dirk mostly listened to obscure European rock music, 80s pop, and Disney soundtracks, it was hardly surprising.

-Not tuned at all, probably. – Todd, the guitar now in hands, returned to his seat and gave the strings a test stroke. – Yep. – He nodded. – Gimme a few minutes.

He tuned the guitar as best as he could, and tapped his fingers on the table, trying to decide what to play. Dirk had watched him with curiosity and was now sipping his tea, waiting for the music to start. Todd paused, took a deep breath in, and began to play the first song that he was sure he remembered – “Behind Blue Eyes”.

The music flowed; Todd focused on the movement of his fingers, on the vibration of the string, and the metal at his fingertips. He sang the words softly, almost as an afterthought. He had forgotten how good it felt to make music happen. The song was in the air, brought to life by the motion of his hands, and the night was young, and he was lost in the moment. He skipped the electric guitar solo and went straight to the final reprise of the chorus.

Then the music stopped, and silence fell on his shoulders. He kept quiet, not saying anything, waiting for Dirk to react. That is when Todd realized that Dirk wasn’t talking – and Dirk was always talking. He talked over movies, and news on the TV, and shop assistants and, on one memorable occasion, over a talking parrot. It’s not that he was rude - it’s just that his head was so full of words, constantly, that they had to be let out.

But Dirk wasn’t talking now. Now he simply sat in his place, eyes transfixed on Todd’s hands, blinking.

-Are you okay? – Todd asked.

There was a pause.

-Mmm? – Dirk blinked faster and looked up, meeting Todd’s gaze, startled slightly, as if waking up from a pleasant dream. – Yes. Yes of course I’m okay.

-You kinda zoned out a little bit.

-I did?

-Yeah.

-You play really good music. – Dirk smiled softly.

-Thanks. – Todd smiled back.

-It’s nice to not be… attacked by sound for a change. – Dirk added. – Can you… keep, playing, please?

-Sure. – Todd replied. -I mean, I don’t remember that many songs, and…

He remembered enough songs for a whole mini-at-home concert.

It doesn’t end there.

Together, they spend many an evening consumed by music, music brought to life by Todd, for Dirk, specifically for Dirk, and for him only. Todd plays everything – every song he has ever loved, acoustic versions of Mexican Funeral pieces, approximate renditions of whatever is on the radio these days…

Dirk makes requests. Todd googles guitar tabs and practices while Dirk is still asleep, in the ungodly early hours of the morning, sitting on the windowsill of the apartment block while people leave for first shifts at work. He has performed in front of huge crowds, and music journalists, and many girls (and guys…) he was trying to impress – but nothing has ever felt as personal, crucial, tender, as playing for Dirk.

The skeleton is identified, and the stolen basket is discovered. The convoluted twists and turns of the story, which involves a near-extinct flower, a 77-year-old Russian spy and an actual African prince, come to their natural close. The excitement and danger are over, if only for a brief respite, and peace is restored. A new case will arrive soon enough… but until then, they have their tiny apartment, and Todd has his guitars, and music lingers in the air, and Dirk is enthralled with the music, still and speechless in his seat.

They look at each other, and they understand each other precisely, and, for once in his life, Dirk has no words, and needs no words, and wants nothing else but to listen. God knows, his life is never safe or simple, but now Todd is here, and the world is really not that bad, and he is happy.

The Earth continues to spin. New bizarre, perplexing and astonishing things will happen. Songs will be played, and words will be said in time. Maybe, in part at least, because someone ran, and never looked back, and left behind all their belongings, even their very expensive guitars…

Sometimes – most of the times – the Universe wants them to help it. But, on this occasion, it is gracious enough to help them in return.

#dghda #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #dirk gently #brotzly #autistic!dirk #actuallyautistic #dghda fanfic #paradox nerd post

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mayquita · 4 years

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Damn You For Making Me Love You (1/15) - Creep

I can't believe the day is finally here!! I'd like to express my gratitude to the moderators of @captainswanbigbang for creating this event and giving us the opportunity to finish and/or rewrite our previous works. It seems I work better under pressure, only in this way am I able to finish my stories, so thanks again for making it possible.

This is a finished and improved version(I hope) of my previous incomplete work. I included everything that appeared in its predecessor, that's why I decided to keep the same name, but I have also made some minor changes and, above all, I added quite a few more scenes, mostly flashbacks, which I hope have served to get to know the characters better and give them more depth.

This story includes 4 different POVs, Killian, Emma, Liam, and Elsa's. I found it interesting to offer the vision of the relationship between Emma and Killian through other people's eyes. It's not an angsty story, in fact, I had a lot of fun writing some scenes, so I hope you enjoy it.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd I couldn't have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans and @onceuponaprincessworld, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story.

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma's best friend and Liam, Killian's brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 7800 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Also: Ao3 / FFnet

Here we go... I hope you like it :)

Prologue - Creep

Four years ago...

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here.

The Kraken

The bar was located in a bland building, with nothing of interest to make it stand out except its spot near the marina. Even the sign with the name seemed dull and unwelcoming. Emma couldn’t help wrinkling her nose in disapproval while inspecting the facade of the premises carefully. If someone asked her, she would say that her goal was to gather information about the place where she might be working in the future. If she got the job, that is. The reality was a little different, though. She was simply using an excuse to delay the inevitable, reluctant to take the step that would carry her inside.

It wasn’t that she was a picky person in terms of job opportunities. Even without knowing what she would find inside, she was sure that she had worked in worse places. She had her standards, though, and she hadn’t worked her fingers to the bone to get her degree just to end up working in a damn bar.

"I need the money," she whispered to herself in an attempt to convince herself that she was making the right decision. She was the only one to blame for being in this precarious situation, after all. That's what happens when you run away from the person who broke your heart, leaving almost everything behind. Only one suitcase with a few belongings and her camera accompanied her on her escape.

In spite of everything, she should be grateful to have people around who cared about her, like her friend Elsa, who had welcomed her into her home with no questions and asked for nothing in return. That's why she was here today, in front of this building, because she couldn’t live forever under her friend's wing without having anything to contribute. She needed to feel useful.

I may not even be chosen, she thought.

Before deciding to enter, Emma grabbed her phone and looked for the job ad that had brought her here.

We are looking for new candidates to join our crew to help us refloat our ship before it sinks. If you are a creative, passionate person who likes challenges, this could be your opportunity. We only ask you to have knowledge in advertising and social media. If you are interested, contact our Captain for more information.

It was quite imaginative, she gave them that, with all that naval vocabulary being used in a clear reference to the name of the bar. But it also implied that they, the owners, had resorted to a somewhat desperate measure, probably because they were in a precarious position as well. She was not sure yet if that was something favorable to her interests. Anyway, there was only one way to find out.

After taking a deep breath, she opened the door with more determination than she really felt, hoping that maybe this time she would find the opportunity to start again on the right path.

In retrospect, she could say that the first thing that attracted her attention after entering The Kraken was the male figure located on what looked like an improvised stage, guitar in hand. Love at first sight and all that shit, as her friend Anna would say. Actually, that was the second thing that caught her attention. The first thing her eyes caught was the luminosity that radiated throughout the huge room.

Emma had to blink a few times at the unexpected and intense lighting of the bar, something she had not expected from such a place. She only needed a simple look around to discover the source of the illumination: the two walls in the far corner were adorned with huge, picturesque windows that were allowing the light to come streaming in. Her eyes widened with interest when she discovered a kind of gadget connected to what looked like two white curtains that were drawn back at the time.

When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

The melodious voice of the guy in the middle of the stage distracted her momentarily from the inspection; her gaze was immediately drawn towards him.

She wasn't sure if the guy was deliberately ignoring her presence there or if he was so focused on his task that he hadn't even realized that someone was watching him, but at least that gave her a few seconds to appreciate the vision that appeared in front of her.

There was something hypnotic in the way his nimble fingers slid over the guitar strings and in how he was able to modulate his voice, creating a powerful melody that enveloped her immediately, causing the lyrics of the song to also slip from between her lips in a soft hum.

Maybe it was the unusual lighting of the place, or the nerves that reverberated inside her, or it might be the lyrics of the song that seemed to acquire a new meaning when sung in the voice of the stranger. Whatever it was, Emma felt the air charged with electricity as she approached the stage almost without realizing it, as if she was being attracted by a magnet.

It was then that he subtly moved his head, directing his gaze to her while still singing. Emma could swear that time stopped at that moment, while she also remained frozen in her position unable to look away from the bluest eyes she had seen in her entire life.

A shiver ran down her spine when the guy sang the next verse as if he was singing directly to her, his intense eyes never abandoning hers.

You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world

Emma shook her head in an attempt to get out of the trance as she pressed her lips together, holding back the humming. At least with the next verse, she came back to reality, suddenly remembering the reason for her presence there and her previous doubts.

But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo.

What the hell am I doing here?

I don't belong here.

She certainly didn't seem to belong there, not with a guy too gorgeous for his own good. Although she wasn't even sure if the man worked there; someone like him around implied distractions that she neither needed nor wanted.

He hadn't spoken any words to her, but still managed to make goosebumps rise all over her skin, not only with his impressive voice but with his enigmatic and piercing gaze and his dark hair falling on his forehead. Even his scruff with a shade of ginger was attractive. It was as if the guy had a danger sign over his head, so her instinct pushed her to turn around and run away from there. She would have done it too if it wasn't for the fact that the guy finally decided to stop singing and addressed her directly.

"It's for the sails."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"The artifact, the one you were looking at before. It's for hoisting the sails."

What the hell was this guy talking about? The confusion was probably written all over her face because he raised an eyebrow while pointing behind her. Her brow furrowed as she turned her head in that direction. "The curtains are meant to emulate the sails of a ship. You know, naval decor and all that stuff."

He had an accent. Of course, he had an accent. Emma hadn't been able to detect it while he sang but just a handful of words had been enough to show it.

Reluctant to look at him again, her gaze focused on the curtains for a few seconds. It was quite creative, she would concede that. Even now that the curtains were raised, she could imagine the effect it would cause with dimmer lighting. The gears of her brain began to work, looking for the possible potential for that design.

"I thought you would like to know, given your apparent interest."

When she turned again she found a disarming smile and a smug expression on his face. As if that were not enough, he also had the audacity to wink at her. Seriously ? Emma would have stood there paralyzed with her mouth hanging open, unable to process what had just happened had it not been for another voice stealing her attention right at that moment. A voice that was addressing her from behind the bar.

"Hello, lass. What can I do for you?" The man who was speaking offered her a kind smile to which she responded with a timid one of her own as she forced her feet to step away from the stage and head toward the bar. The man looked somewhat older than the musician and, although they shared similar features, his hair was curly and his blue gaze less intense. He also sported a warmer expression, much to her relief.

"Uhm, I'm Emma. Emma Swan. I came for the job interview."

The man's face lit up immediately as his smile widened. "Emma Swan, of course. Nice to meet you." He offered his hand before continuing. "Welcome to The Kraken, lass. I'm Liam Jones, one of the owners and The Captain of this fine vessel." He waved his hand to encompass the entire room and then pointed toward the stage, so Emma had no choice but to look there again. "And that scoundrel up there would be my first mate, also known as my little brother, Killian."

"It's younger," the man, Killian, grumbled, a scowling expression on his face. She heard Liam snort behind her and she was going to turn again to focus her attention on him when Killian softened his features immediately, his lips drawing a bright smile and a special sparkle appeared in his gaze. "Pleasure."

He was trouble, she was aware of it. She didn't need trouble in her life. She was looking for a job, not a hot guy who had the ability to make her feel as if she had melted from the force of his penetrating gaze.

"Well, now that the introductions are made, what do you think if we get to business?" Emma had to suppress a sigh of relief when Liam came to her rescue. Yep, business, that's what she was here for.

After one last look at the stage, she turned back to Liam, but before they had time to start talking, a sound coming from the stage caused a chill to run down her spine. The bastard began to sing again.

I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special

The corners of her lips twisted up as the lyrics of the song seeped deep into her, causing a strange sensation to settle in the pit of her stomach.

She ignored that feeling and focused on Liam's warm smile and the cozy decor that surrounded her. She found herself beginning to envision all the possibilities to boost the business, detecting with a simple glance the huge potential that it hid. Kilian might mean danger, but she had dealt with worse. Yes, she definitely might belong there, at least professionally speaking.

Emma Swan - October 2019, present day

The streets of Boston passed before her eyes at full speed, wrapped in the lights and shadows typical of the night in a big city. When the cab stopped at a red light for what seemed like the millionth time, Emma groaned quietly, unable to hide her displeasure. She could feel Elsa's inquiring gaze directed at her, but showing off her stubbornness, she chose to ignore her while she kept her head turned towards the window.

The trip home had become torture. She couldn’t wait to get to her apartment, lock herself in her bedroom, and bury her head under the pillow. But it seemed like that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. A huff of annoyance escaped between her lips as she cursed inwardly. Damn Irishman! The person who had ruined her night had a proper name. Killian Jones.

At least Elsa, sitting next to her, had the good sense to remain silent. Emma, though, could see from the corner of her eye that her friend kept giving her inquiring glances that also contained a hint of concern. Damn Killian, she repeated to herself as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the seat.

And to think that the night had started so well, full of expectations... For the first time in what seemed like ages, her boss, Liam Jones, had taken pity on her and Killian and given them the whole weekend off.

She didn't remember anything like that in the four years she had been working for him. Well, there was that weekend, when the three of them went out of town to do some purchasing, when... Don't go there! She stopped that escalation of thoughts before it was too late. Certainly, the memories of that glorious weekend weren't going to help improve her current mood. Even so, she didn't have enough willpower to stop thinking about what had happened just half an hour before…

"It will be a quiet night, I'll manage with only Ruby and Robin. The bar can survive for a couple of days without you. Now, guys, go out and have fun," Liam explained to both she and Killian. He used that condescending, patronizing tone of his, as if he were speaking to his own children.

Any other time, they would have reacted the way they usually did when Liam used that tone, rolling their eyes or raising their eyes to the sky praying for patience. On this occasion, though, they were so surprised by the offer that they simply looked at each other with wide eyes and mouths hanging open, as if they didn't quite believe their luck.

That's how she ended up organizing a girls' Friday night with Elsa and her sister Anna, a night she hoped was full of good music, drinks, and great moments with her two friends.

Everything went well for a while. But then, in a twist of fate, he appeared in the same damn bar they were in. Killian Jones, in all his splendor, with his swagger moves, his devilish grin, and his bright blue eyes with the ability to pierce hearts.

The problem? He wasn't alone.

Their gazes connected for a brief instant, in spite of the crowd around them. Everything else ceased to exist at that moment, at least until her eyes moved to his left. Killian's left arm was placed around the shoulders of a petite brunette. Belle. His friend. HIS FRIEND. His best friend forever, the one he had grown up with was in the city. With him. Fuck!

Emma knew of Belle's existence, of course. She had met Killian shortly after he had traveled from Ireland with his father and brother after his mother passed away. Belle had been their neighbor, the first person to help them adapt to the differences of a strange country for them. Over time, and after their father abandoned them, the two brothers had moved to a new city in search of new opportunities but they had never lost contact with her.

Although Emma would never acknowledge it out loud, she had always been a bit jealous of Belle; not at a sentimental level, but rather at one related to friendship. Belle was the one who shared the memories of a lifetime with the Jones brothers, while she had to settle for those created during the last four years. They were pretty amazing memories, but not enough, not if she compared them to Belle’s.

She had always managed to hide that irrational jealousy, a fairly easy task considering that Belle didn't even live in the same state. She had always been a distant figure for Emma.

Until now.

Today she was here with him, and her thoughts began to spiral, gathering in her mind and gradually clouding her mood. 'Why didn’t Killian tell me anything before? Oh! Is that why Liam gave us the weekend off? So that Killian could hang out with Belle? Isn’t she smiling at him too much? Why does he still have his arm around her shoulders?'

Everything went wrong from that moment. He came to where the women were and introduced them to his friend. All Emma managed to hear was how Belle was addressing her, grateful to finally meet her in person, but she barely paid attention. She didn't mind being rude, she’d have time to regret her behavior later. She was busy putting all her efforts into keeping her face straight enough to hide her inner agitation. He, on the other hand, also acted strangely as he met them, glancing around absently, shifting his weight from foot to foot, hand scratching the back of his ear.

After a few minutes of awkward conversation, Emma just left the bar, alluding that she was tired, with Elsa following on her heels without saying a word while Anna remained there, chatting with Belle and Killian.

Fuck, Fuck! Why on earth had he ended up in the same bar as her? As if there wasn’t an endless amount of bars in the damn city.

Emma came back to reality when she realized that the cab had finally stopped in front of her building. She didn’t even bother to pay, she left the vehicle quickly, thinking that perhaps, if she hurried enough, she could reach her bedroom and lock herself in there, thus preventing Elsa's interrogation.

Luck was not on her side tonight, of course. She lost precious minutes trying to find the keys inside her purse, as a series of curses escaped her mouth. “Where are my damn keys?" she muttered in frustration.

It was then that Emma remembered she had left her keys forgotten inside the apartment, something that didn’t concern her at all at first since Elsa accompanied her. She groaned, smacking her forehead slightly against the door.

How could she be so stupid?

"Were you looking for these?" Elsa arrived at that moment, her hand held up holding her keys and an inquisitive look on her face.

A sigh of resignation escaped her mouth as she stepped aside, allowing Elsa to finally open the door, the possibilities of locking herself in her bedroom without having to give any explanation completely vanished.

Still, she was reluctant to confess. If she had managed to keep the secret of her feelings for... an eternity, why should she give any explanation now? Maybe if she dropped herself on the couch and pretended to fall asleep…

In fact, that was the first thing she did as soon as she entered the apartment and removed her heels. She collapsed on the sofa, covering her face with her right arm.

"Okay, enough. I thought the ride home would calm you down, but it seems like it's not like that, so tell me, what's going on, Emma?" Elsa's soft voice reached her ears but she did not respond at first, remaining in stubborn silence.

Elsa sighed and for a moment Emma thought she would let things be. She was wrong, of course. "Since the night has been ruined, I have a few hours to go, so I'm going to sit right here, right in front of you, and I'll wait for you to stop behaving like a child. I'm an older sister, remember. I know all the tricks."

Emma moaned inwardly, finally giving up and sitting down. "It's nothing, I was just tired,” she mumbled, avoiding her friend's gaze.

"Tired..." Elsa cocked her head slightly as she narrowed her eyes. "You know I'm not buying it, right? Come on, Emma, I know you always keep to yourself how you feel, but I also know this never ends well. So tell me, what's wrong?"

What’s wrong? That's what I want to know, she thought. She wasn’t able —or more like she didn’t want to — put a label on her feelings, at least out loud. Killian was her best friend, for the love of God. Since both of them worked in the same place, they spent most of the time together, either in the bar or in either one’s apartment, or having dinner with Liam... But this situation had caught her off guard and it had served to realize that perhaps she wasn’t going to keep Killian for herself forever. A groan escaped her mouth at the thought of that, though she sealed her lips hastily, unwilling to voice aloud how she felt.

Elsa looked at her expectantly for a few seconds, but seeing that Emma was remaining silent, she sighed again showing her frustration. However, she didn’t give up, much to Emma’s dismay. "Okay, you're not going to talk, so I'll have to figure it out for myself." Her eyes narrowed and her brow wrinkled in thought. "The night was going well, we were having fun, we had just got our drinks..."

Don’t go that way…

"Then we met Killian. We were talking for a while..."

Don’t.

Her eyes widened when she finally realized. "Oh my God! This was all about Killian! But why? Did he say something that bothered you or..."

No, no, go back, go back.

"He wasn't alone... he wasn't alone! This is because of Belle!"

Emma moaned in response, putting her hands on her face.

"Emma..." Her voice softened. "You kept telling me Killian was just a friend, a very close friend, okay, but nothing more."

"It's the truth," she replied, not proud of the unconvincing tone of her voice.

"But you feel something more for him, don’t you?" Elsa insisted in a gentle but firm voice. Emma didn't even bother to answer this time. Her friend took her silence as an admission as she continued on that path. "Since when?"

Since when? Since ever? Since she entered The Kraken for the first time to do a job interview four years ago. Since the first thing she saw when she entered the bar was the hottest man she had ever met playing the guitar and singing. Since she met the deep ocean of his gaze as he continued singing as if he did it just for her... Oh, God ... "For a while," she mumbled.

"For a while," Elsa echoed her words. "You're telling me you've had feelings for Killian for some time, and you're not gonna do anything about it?"

"That’s exactly what I’m saying."

"Oh, Emma, you know that at some point you'll have to open your heart again, right? We're talking about Killian; not all men are like Neal or Walsh.”

The mere mention of their names caused her to flinch, another sign of how broken her heart was still due to those two assholes. As if feeling her discomfort, Elsa approached and sat down beside her, taking her hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I don’t want to risk losing what I have with Killian." The connection she felt with him went far beyond physical attraction. It was something difficult to explain in words, but that connection caused endless sensations swirling inside her. She didn't want those feelings to ever end. "I would rather keep him as a friend than lose him forever."

"But this is affecting you, Emma. Just look at your reaction from tonight. By the way, how could you be jealous of Belle? Besides, he's surrounded by girls all the time, flirting and flattering them. You witness that every day."

"It's not the same," Emma replied in a weak voice, feeling an incipient headache approaching. How could she explain how she felt? "At the end of the day, that's just a role. He doesn’t hook up any of those girls, hasn’t for quite some time anyway. We just close the bar and go home. But today... " She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "It's not just for his friend.” Although she couldn’t deny that for a moment Belle had been a threat. Once again, the feeling of not being enough had made an appearance. “Before he approached us, he looked happy and carefree. He not only had Belle by his side, but he could also have been able to get any of the girls from the bar."

"Maybe he would have chosen you..."

"No." She shook her head firmly. "It's... I didn’t expect to see him there, even less to see him accompanied by a woman, but everything is going to return to normal. It's the best thing for us.” She tried to convince herself, stubbornly ignoring Elsa's hopeful gaze. She wasn’t going to risk their friendship...

Damn it! She was so fucked up.

Killian Jones - October 2019, present day

What a weird night!

Not only the night, actually. A strange sensation had accompanied him throughout the day. It was as if, after his brother had given them the whole weekend off, he didn't know what to do with that unexpected free time, apart from lying on the couch with Netflix as his only companion. Especially when he couldn't count on Emma as a source of entertainment either since she had decided to spend a girls' night with her friends.

But in a matter of minutes, everything had taken an unexpected turn. His childhood friend, Belle, had called by surprise for a brief visit. She would be in the city for less than a day, but had the afternoon off, so Killian quickly formulated an improvised plan.

That's how he'd ended up in the same bloody bar Emma had come to. Seriously, what were the odds? Of course, he blamed himself for having flatly refused to take Belle to The Kraken. — It's my free night, love. The last thing I want is to spend the evening in the same place as always. I know you want to see Liam, but he will be with you at the airport tomorrow .—

"Killian? Are you sure you're okay?"

Belle’s voice, coming from beside him, took him out of his reverie. He cleared his throat before answering. "Sure, love, just tired." He felt Belle's gaze scrutinizing him, but she just nodded without adding anything else.

They continued walking in silence, his hands in the pockets of his jeans and Belle's arm hanging from the hollow formed by his arm. It was a warm night, despite being in early October, so they had decided to walk back to the hotel where Belle was staying.

For a few minutes, he tried to focus on anything, the weather, Belle, the sounds of the street, but all his thoughts invariably ended up with one name that night. Emma Swan. So, despite the momentary interruption, his mind bent to remind him again and again of the situation he had lived merely an hour earlier.

The choice of the bar had been totally random. It turned out to be the closest to the hotel where Belle was staying. But luck wasn’t on his side that night, or maybe it was because, within minutes of entering the bloody bar, a vision appeared before his eyes. A vision that was becoming his downfall. Emma Swan.

The person he had been secretly in love with for four years was right in front of his eyes.

It was a pleasant surprise since he was so used to seeing her every day that, although he could not be happier to have a free Friday night, the possibility of not seeing Emma for a whole day was not so appealing.

At least he had been lucky enough to notice Emma before she realized his presence there, which implied that he would be able to put into practice one of his favorite hobbies, observe Emma while she wasn't looking.

No, he wasn't a stalker, but he enjoyed those little moments, such as seeing Emma with a wrinkle of concentration across her brow as she edited photographs, sitting in her favorite corner of the bar. Or watching how she got into the role of a tough lass when one of the customers tried to go too far with her. He also enjoyed hearing how she hummed his songs when she believed he was not listening. Or watching as she slept, unable to stay awake on one of their Netflix nights.

He treasured those little moments as something precious, something that made Emma more real, but that at the same time served as a reminder that those moments were the most he was going to get from her. She was seemingly unreachable.

What he saw at that moment took his breath away. She was impressive that night. Not only did she look sexier than ever, but her eyes glowed in a special way, and her carefree smile did nothing to placate his agitation. When their gazes finally met through the crowd, it was as if everything else ceased to exist. At least for a few seconds.

He then approached her and the spell broke.

The smile faded from her lips the moment he met her and introduced her to Belle. From there she began to act quite strangely, avoiding his glance, answering with monosyllables, becoming even a little rude to Belle. Why did she act like that? Was it because of him? They had talked in the morning and everything was normal. What was it then?

A feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach, something unusual in reference to Emma. His relationship with her had always been easy; they shared such a special connection. Unfortunately, that connection didn’t help him tonight, because he not only seemed unable to understand her strange attitude, but he himself began to act strangely.

After the first few minutes of awkward conversation, an idea began to settle in his head. Emma might feel uncomfortable about his unexpected appearance because she was looking for something different that night. Maybe a one-night stand... The mere idea made him feel sick to his stomach. When was the last time she...? No, he didn't even want to remember it.

For his luck or misfortune, Emma excused herself after only a few minutes, alluding to the fact that she was tired and saying goodbye with just a nod. Elsa, her friend, followed her, not before giving both him and her sister an apologetic look.

Anna stayed with them for a few more minutes, but then she also left with the excuse that she was going to meet her boyfriend Kristoff in a nearby bar now that the girls’ night had been ruined. In a matter of a few minutes, he found himself alone again with Belle and with the endless troubled thoughts that had begun to gather in his head.

“Killian?”

Belle's voice brought him back to reality again, noticing then that they had just reached the hotel entrance. Killian scratched behind his ear, casting an apologetic glance towards his friend. "My apologies, love. I got a bit distracted."

"Oh, I can see that." Belle crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head slightly, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Now, are you going to tell me what's happening?"

Killian swallowed, averting his gaze and directing it toward his feet. His feelings for Emma were something only he knew and he had every intention of keeping that fact hidden. That made things easier. "I don’t know what you're talking about, love," he mumbled, keeping his gaze on his feet.

“Oh, please.” He didn't even need to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes. “You've been acting strange from the very moment we met Emma. It was an awkward moment there at the bar, not just for you, but for her as well.”

"Ah, about that. I apologize on her behalf. Emma ..." Why was it suddenly difficult for him to even pronounce her name? He let out a deep exhale while rubbing his eyes before turning his gaze back to Belle. "She doesn’t act that way normally."

"You don't need to apologize." Belle stared at him for a few seconds before continuing. "She's not just a friend anymore, is she?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about, love." He plastered a fake smile on his face before continuing. "Emma is my friend, that's all." He was not lying actually. They were just friends, though all the fibers of his being craved for something else.

Belle held his gaze for a few seconds longer, as if she wanted to go through his armor and reach his secrets. Finally, she sighed, giving up. "Whatever you say, but you should talk to her at some point. There was a weird tension there. Whatever it is, you should fix it." She raised her index finger in warning.

"It's Liam's fault. He makes us work so hard that when we find ourselves with so much unexpected free time, we don’t know how to act. We’re not used to it." Killian tried to lighten the mood with an ingenious comment that would divert attention.

"Oh, of course, blame your brother. He's such a slaver." She rolled her eyes again as she let out a snort. But then her gaze softened, her hand caressing his arm gently. "You know it's time to move on, right?"

A lump in his throat kept him from speaking for a few seconds. He nodded, the corners of his lips pulled up in a small smile. If only she knew that he had already decided to move on for some time... But the fear of losing Emma had him paralyzed. He was unable to consider taking their relationship a step further. At least not until Emma was ready. And as it was currently with their situation, that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. But he preferred to have what they shared now than to have absolutely nothing.

"Talk to her, or to your brother," she asked, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Have a safe flight, Belle. We’ll talk soon."

After saying goodbye to his friend with the promise of seeing her soon, Killian was reluctant to go home. The image of Emma in that ethereal dress and that dazzling smile didn’t stop tormenting him. The fact that her smile had turned into almost a grimace when she noticed him didn’t allow him to think of anything else.

The restlessness and confusion that he felt, far from appeasing him, had settled in his stomach. He had to do something to distract his mind. That's how he ended up at The Kraken, with the full intention that music and rum would cloud his senses enough to get Emma out of his system, at least for a while.

Liam noticed him the moment he entered through The Kraken's door despite the crowd, showing off his sixth sense towards him. Fortunately, he was serving some other customers, so Killian was spared the inquisitive glances of his brother.

He chose the bar area farthest from Liam and collapsed on one of the stools. He would have preferred if one of the two new bartenders were to serve him; they would have treated him as one more customer. But it was Robin, one of their oldest bartenders, the one in charge of that section of the bar, so he had no choice but to resign himself while waving his hand to get his attention.

"You look like shit, mate," Robin said while putting a shot of rum in front of him. At least he didn't need to even bother talking, his friend already knew his favorite poison. "And what the hell are you doing here on your night off?"

"Missed me?" he wiggled his eyebrows before schooling his features so as not to betray his inner turmoil.

"Actually I miss Emma, she's much nicer than you."

The fake smile faded from his face at the mere mention of her name. Luckily for him, Fridays were a busy night at The Kraken, so Robin’s attention was required by another customer, leaving him finally alone with his thoughts and his rum.

He brought the glass to his lips, letting the amber liquid slide down his throat, feeling the pleasant burn on its way to his stomach. Only when alcohol entered his system did he feel the courage to take the phone out of his pocket. He wondered if it would be a good idea to contact Emma, his fingers sliding across the screen without ever pressing Emma's name. After a moment of hesitation, he finally decided. He couldn’t leave things like this.

Did I do something tonight to bother you? - KJ

Emma answered instantly, to his pleasant surprise.

Hey! No more than usual. ;p Why do you ask? - ES

A sigh of relief escaped his mouth, not just by her words but by the inclusion of that emoji. It was amazing how two simple characters could conceal so much meaning.

You acted strange tonight - KJ

No more than you... I was just tired - ES

Aye, me too - KJ

By the way, I'd like to apologize to Belle. I acted like an asshole to her. - ES

Nah, it's okay. Are you sure you're fine? - KJ

Promise. And you? - ES

I'm fine too. Ah! You looked stunning tonight, love. - KJ

You were not so bad yourself :) - ES

Any plans for tomorrow? - KJ

Pizza and Netflix? - ES

My apartment or yours? - KJ

Yours. Since Liam will be working, we'll be able to choose freely. - ES

Smart lass. Night Swan. - KJ

Night Killian - ES

A sigh of relief escaped between his lips as he felt a weight removed from him, his lips pulling at a smile as he continued to stare at the screen.

"What are you doing here?" Killian looked up from the phone to find Liam, arms folded across his chest and a scrutinizing look on his face. "I seem to remember that I gave you the night off."

Killian grabbed his glass and raised his hand to Liam as if to toast. He took a sip of the drink before answering. "I'm here as a customer, brother."

At that moment, Liam reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. Killian watched as his brother's brow furrowed as he stared at the screen. He also detected Liam's eyes briefly straying to look slyly at him. A strange sensation washed over him as he stirred uncomfortably in his seat. This couldn’t be good.

Liam carefully placed the phone on the counter and folded his arms over his chest again. "So... what's wrong with Emma?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" His heart tightened into knots as his gaze drifted to Liam's phone. Little traitor. .. he thought. What the hell was he thinking when he decided it was a good idea to come to the bloody bar?

"Enlighten me, little brother."

Killian loved his brother, but he could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, pressing all his weak points until he ended up pissing him off. This time his tolerance level was so low that he only needed a little spark to light the wick of his anger.

He clenched his jaw as he felt a growing rage running through his veins, urging him to act. Out of the corner of his eye, Killian glanced at his brother's phone one last time, and in a swift, fluid movement that left no chance of a reaction from Liam, he seized the device.

Liam's eyes widened in surprise at his brother's maneuver, but then he reacted, grunting as he tried to reach for the phone. "Give me my bloody phone, Killian!"

"Ah, ah!" Killian moved away from the bar, enough so that his brother couldn’t reach him and without further delay read the contents of the last message received.

Hey, Liam! We missed you this evening. I met Emma, at last. But I think something happened between her and Killian. Ask him, it seems that our "bro" has something to tell us. See you tomorrow. - Belle

"Bloody hell." The words slipped out of Killian's mouth without him doing anything to stop it. "She's such a traitorous lass," he hissed, the urge to throw the phone against the nearest wall almost uncontrollable.

Bloody hell... he repeated, this time to himself. He began to feel like a fish out of water, desperately in need of air. Killian had for so long hidden his feelings in front of his brother that he found it extremely difficult to expose them now; especially because he was fully aware that Liam would be excited at first for him, but then he’d feel as if someone threw a jug of cold water on him when he discovered that, whatever Killian felt towards Emma Swan, nothing was going to change their relationship.

Killian returned slowly to his seat, placing Liam's phone on the counter again. He gestured to the bartender on the other side of the bar to get another drink; the idea of confessing his feelings with more alcohol running through his system seemed more appropriate under the circumstances.

"You know it's rude to read private messages from someone else," Liam said to him in that calm, characteristic tone of his, one that was hiding a condescending hue that annoyed Killian enormously.

"Not if that damn message speaks about oneself," he mumbled. Killian didn't care at that moment if he behaved like a rebel teenager in front of his father.

"Have you argued with Emma? What is it this time? Netflix, the choice of dinner?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop treating us like children. I'm not your son and Emma is obviously not your daughter."

"Then act like an adult and tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing. We met Emma in a bar. I don’t know what Belle was talking about."

"Okay." Liam grabbed his phone and began to slide his fingers across the screen.

A sensation of panic settled in the pit of his stomach. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Emma, of course."

"Don't you dare, brother," he hissed, casting a murderous glare at Liam as he again regretted coming here. What on earth was I thinking?

Liam seemed to think better of it because, after staring at him for a few seconds, he sighed and put the phone back on the counter. He then changed his attitude, softening his features as he addressed Killian. "Listen, it's obvious that something is happening. You know I care a lot about Emma. I just need you to tell me if everything's okay with her, brother."

Seeing his brother's face full of sincere concern stirred something inside Killian so, without even stopping to think of what he was doing, he confessed, kind of.

"It's nothing, really. We met her unexpectedly. For some reason, she started acting in an offhand way when she saw us and after a few minutes, she just left. But I texted her a few minutes ago and everything was fine." After a pause, he continued almost without being aware of what he was about to say. "I thought at first that my presence might have bothered her, in case I might be interfering in some way, preventing some guy from approaching her, but it seems she was just tired."

Liam's features changed subtly, as if a flash of realization crossed his face. His eyes widened slightly as one eyebrow rose slightly. "And that would have been a problem for you?"

Killian closed his eyes as he sighed. After two deep breaths, he set out to confess for the first time in four years. "Aye, it would."

Liam's eyes widened even more as a smile began to appear on his face, a smile in which his brother was depositing his relief and his hopes. Something that, unfortunately, Killian would have to cut.

"Before you start to get your hopes up. Yes, I have feelings for Emma. No, I do not think she feels the same, or at least I don’t think she's ready yet to open her heart. So nothing is going to change between us. Emma is my friend and so it will remain until she decides otherwise."

"Does Emma know?"

"About my feelings? Of course not."

After the initial impact of the confession, Liam seemed to react. He shook his head and brushed his eyes with one hand. "How could I know nothing? I mean, I know you care about her, and that you two are very good friends, but how did you manage to hide your feelings from me? I spend most of the damn time with you two!"

Killian ignored him, suddenly exhausted after the events of the day. But before he went home, he had to make sure of something. "Promise me you won’t tell Emma anything."

"Killian..."

"No, just promise me. Let me do this my way."

With a sigh, Liam agreed. "Okay, but promise me something in return. Promise me you'll be careful, okay? You finally have a chance to be happy, brother. Do not miss it, please. And don't hurt her."

The corners of his lips rose slightly at Liam's words. It was no secret that his brother adored Emma in a fraternal sense and that he cared for her almost as much as himself. He couldn't be more grateful that she had such a support group around her.

"Believe me, Liam, that would be the last of my intentions."

His initial idea when he arrived at the bar was to wait for his brother until closing time came and then return home together. But after what happened, he changed his mind. His only desire was to lock himself in his bedroom, bury his head under the pillow, and try to sleep with the vain idea that Emma's image wouldn’t appear in his dreams to torment him.

After finishing his drink, he murmured "I'll see you at home" to his brother while he waved and left the premises.

His walk home meant being alone with his thoughts. Far from vanishing, Emma's vision became even more powerful, filling all his thoughts. His mind was determined to remind him of the image of Emma in that damn dress that molded to all her curves and that neckline that hinted at what was forbidden to him. His body started to react, liquid heat heading straight south. By the time he got home, his pants were tight, a series of curses escaping from his mouth. He was helpless.

Killian reached his bedroom and undressed without bothering to put on his pajamas. He collapsed in bed, the need for release was almost painful so he had no choice but to take care of himself. As the strokes increased in pressure and speed, Emma's image became more real in his mind; her pink lips silently begging to be kissed, her defiant glance, her perfect body. His release came at last as he pronounced her name between pants, imagining that Emma was the one with her hand around his length. Bloody hell...

He was so fucked up.

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Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? We'll have another flashback of Emma's early months at the bar and we'll also see Liam's first attempt to push them together.

#cs ff #captain swan #csrt #captain swan rewrite a thon #cs au #cs au ff #damn you for making me love you #mayquita writes #my cs writings

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quickspinner · 4 years

Text

Hey Gorgeous - Under Your Skin 3

It felt like tradition, waiting for him on the stairs.

Except when he arrived he was on foot, and he looked...really good. Not fancy at all, but his laid-back look suited him, and it was miles better than his work clothes. Marinette’s knees turned to jelly when he looked up at her and smiled a genuine, slow smile. “Hey Gorgeous,” he said, and it sounded different, warmer or softer or just...more. “Ready to go?”

Marinette smiled and stood up, and Luka’s smile got broader as she came down the steps toward him. He held his hands out as she reached him and, blushing, she put her hands in his.

“You’re a vision,” he said in that warm voice of his, and she ducked her head a little. She wasn’t that dressed up either, in jeans and the lace edging of her camisole peeking out of her pink pullover. But the admiration in his face was so genuine she couldn’t scold him. “I like your hair,” he added, glancing up at her twin buns. “Cute.”

“Th-thanks,” she smiled. “I like yours too, n-now that I can sssee it.” She dared to reach up and play with a blue strand near his temple. “You l-look nice.” She let her hand brush his shoulder lightly as it fell and saw him swallow.

“Well I didn’t have to do much to improve on the usual,” Luka chuckled. “You haven’t exactly been seeing me at my best.”

“Y-yet, h-h-here I am,” she pointed out shyly, and there were those eyes she told Alya about.

“Yes you are,” was all he said, but the way he said it, like he almost couldn’t believe it himself, was enough to stir up the butterflies in her stomach. He offered her his arm.

Marinette put her hand in the crook of his elbow and let him guide her to the sidewalk.

“So—“ Luka began, but Marinette held up a hand. “What do you—“

“Oh n-no,” Marinette said, raising up a hand. “Wwwe t-talked all about mme last t-time. I want to know about y-you.”

“Oh,” Luka said, looking taken aback. “Oh, sure. Ah…”

“Y-you sssaid you had a sssister,” Marinette prompted. “Wwwhat about the r-rest of your family?”

“Oh, it’s just me, Jules--Juleka, my sister, I mean, and my mom. Actually apparently you’ve met Juleka. She said she modeled for a runway show you were working on.” Luka pulled out his phone and showed her the lock screen picture of he and Juleka together. “That’s her.”

“Oh, I r-remember,” Marinette said with surprise, taking the phone to look closer. “She had sssuch an interesting l-look. R-really n-nice eyes.” She handed it back to him. “Mmmust r-run in the ffamily.” It amused her to see him blush at such a small compliment after all the lines he’d handed her over the past few months.

“She’s beautiful, I know,” he deflected, pride evident in his tone. “A little short on confidence sometimes, but she’s working on that and she’s come so far. She has too much fun roasting her big brother though. We’re only a couple of years apart but she’s always been the baby to me.” He unlocked the phone and pulled up another photo. “That’s my mom.”

“Oh,” Marinette took the phone from him again. “Wow, she’s got ssstyle. She’s the kind of p-person I would ssssit down and draw if I saw her on the sstreet.” Realizing she had just snatched his phone away, she handed it back to him, blushing. “Sssorry.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled, taking the phone back and slipping it back into his pocket. “I like seeing you excited. But yeah, my mom’s kind of an interesting person. Not the easiest person to have for a mom in some ways, but she’s definitely got personality.”

Marinette giggled. “Seems like that runs in the fffamily too.”

Luka grinned at her and winked. They walked in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“So since I’m not allowed to ask any more questions,” he teased, “what else do you want to know?”

“What else d-do you think I shhhould know?” she countered with a playful sideways look. “What makes L-luka--” she paused. “I d-don’t know your last n-name,” she realized.

Luka chuckled. “It’s Couffaine. Although it’s made up anyway, my mom changed her whole name when she left home. If there was a goddess of rebellious teenagers, it’d be Anarka Couffaine.”

Marinette giggled. “L-luka C-c-couffaine,” she repeated thoughtfully. “Mine’s D-dupain-Cheng.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he repeated likewise. “Well, maybe it’s a little belated, but—I’m very glad to meet you.”

She squeezed his arm where she held it. “Mmme too. Sso what m-makes L-Luka C-couffaine t-tick?”

“Besides your eyes?” he grinned at her. “Music, mostly. My mother’s a musician and she had a guitar in my hands before I could walk. I’ve always expressed myself better with music than words.”

“Th-th-that surprises me,” Marinette giggled. “Y-you nnnever seem at a loss for w-words.”

“Oh, Gorgeous, it comes so easy when I’m with you,” he sighed, putting one hand to his chest dramatically, and then he dropped it and smiled at her. “Partly because have a week to think about it. And it makes you smile. I get the feeling maybe not enough people have been telling you how amazing you are, so I’m happy to pick up the slack.” He shook his head. “That day with the black dress, though. I think I forgot my own name for a minute.”

Marinette blushed. “Ssso w-w-what k-kind of mmmusic?”

“Listening or playing? I mean, all kinds, really,” Luka shrugged. “I’ll listen to almost anything, and I’ll play anything that catches my ear. I have a soft spot for folk music from all kinds of different places. I always seem to gravitate back to rock though. I play a few different instruments, including just about every kind of guitar there is, but the electric guitar speaks to me the most. I’ve been playing in bands since I was oh, about twelve or thirteen? Been writing music as long as I can remember.”

“Y-y-you write mmusic?” Marinette gasped, impressed. “Th-th-that’s sssoo c-cool.”

Luka nudged her with a grin. “You don’t even know if I’m any good.”

“Are you?”

Luka coughed, turning a little pink. “Maybe. Some people think so.”

“Mmmhmm,” Marinette quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Including the school scholarship committee,” he admitted, lifting his free hand to rub the back of his neck.

“I d-didn’t expect f-false mmodesty from you,” she teased.

“I don’t like to brag,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “I don’t want to jinx anything. Some days I still can’t believe anyone thinks my work is worth listening too. Sometimes I feel like if I tell the wrong person, they’ll realize I don’t actually have any talent and it’ll all come crumbling down.”

“I c-can relate,” Marinette sighed. “Mmmy b-best ffriend is always h-harping on mmme not to d-downplay mmmy accomplishments.” She bit her lip and admitted, “I’ve designed for Jagged St-st-stone.”

Luka stopped in his tracks. “Seriously?”

Marinette’s cheeks warmed and she wished she hadn’t said anything. But she had, so… “Yeah. Just a c-couple of s-small things.” He was still staring at her and for some reason she felt compelled to add, “And an album c-cover.”

“No way, which one?” Luka demanded. “I have all his albums.”

“R-rock Giant.”

“The one with the sticker? Man that was so fresh and original.” Luka cleared his throat. “I um...I sold one of my compositions to a producer friend of mine. It ended up being the base melody for one of Clara Nightingale’s singles.”

“W-wow, that’s amazing!”

They exchanged a look of mingled embarrassment and admiration, and Marinette laughed. “W-w-we’re a p-pair, aren’t w-w-we.”

“I’d sure as hell like to be,” Luka said fervently, and then he bit his lip and his expression clearly showed he hadn’t meant to say that.

Marinette knew her face was red, but she just bumped him lightly with her hip. “I th-think that’s a c-c-conversation that should wait a few mmmore dates.”

“Right. Sorry. Speaking of which--I was kind of hoping if things go okay tonight, maybe you’d like to come see my band play this weekend? You don’t have to answer now, just...think about it?”

“I w-will,” she smiled up at him. “I’d l-like to c-come if I c-can.”

Luka beamed back at her, and they started walking again.

#hey gorgeous #hey gorgeous 2 #campus delivery boy luka #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #quickspins

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advernia · 4 years

Text

the world in her heart, her heart in his hands

assorted sidenotes for the fic i made in response to an anon-sent aesthetic prompt! oooh boy, i sure took long on this one lmao...... _(:3 」∠)_

prompt #7: steady notes coming from a guitar nearby, fireflies dancing around the clearing, two sleeping bags close together, and a bright full moon briefly covered by a cloud.

so the core idea i had when i saw that prompt got requested was based on jonah’s say i do! route: he says that one day, he wanted to go to the land of reason + see the place alice was born and raised. tbh idk how the prompt even led me to that, but the imagery vibes i got from the prompt hinted of something like freedom. or something like lovers secretly meeting in the woods, which i sort of went by.

OKAY SO I SWEAR I FINISHED WRITING THE PROMPT (day zero!!!) EARLY (by my standards) LMAO.............. like, maybe a week after i got the ask or so? but then when i went about proofreading it i felt that it was... lacking??? i can’t explain it myself, but i didn’t wanna post it yet until i got that feeling cleared out - i tried revising + adding, but it didn’t help so i just started thinking about expanding the fic instead...

thinking about the scenes really took longer than i thought?!?!?! i wanted this request up early but i was stumped on what kind of scenes i wanted to see + how their lengths were gonna be.... plus i was thinking if i should go solely on narration + description........ or maybe more of dialogue...... then i jumped to holy shit what’s my timeline gonna be what cultural whatnot am i gonna emphasize and i think i fussed over those aspects rather than picturing the actual scenes LMAOOO.......................

great disclaimer: i have NEVER stepped into the uk..... or england + london for that matter ahahaha GET REKT tho i want to someday huehuehue....... i heavily relied my research on maps + history websites + train timetables to help me get through the touring parts so do forgive me if i messed up somewhere + butchered history haha..... i was thinking to make things vague, but since i’m always in for emphasizing the differences between cradle + land of reason, i decided to get a little technical with it......

i have to admit that i wrote most of the fic during breaks in work hELLA RAD........... i’m doing my job properly, i swear........ it’s just that when i already have a stable idea of what i want to happen, the scene becomes clearer in my mind. i wanted so! badly! to add scenes of jonah pronouncing words and looking at various things funny!!! jonah and his attempts to communicate with londoners!!! fussy jonah poking around a boutique, him being fascinated + studying displays of gun shops, or him accidentally offending the royal guard + constables LMAOOOOO but i couldn’t seem to write anything satisfactory involving those ideas........... ಥ_ಥ

back to the issue of timeline, i was picturing the london in this fic to be around the 1860s or smth.... but then i remembered that in edgar’s dramatic end letter, he mentions his fascination with electricity aka lightbulbs......... which were, like...... discovered early 1800s but only became common in 1882 ahahaha....... when i realized this i was already writing day 18 oOOPS so i just decided to go on and wing it I’M SORRY _(:3 」∠)_

on timeframe, i know that it’s very highly unlikely that jonah would take a vacation for two months. i bet the mere concept of a one-month vacation is enough to give him a heart attack LMAOOOO but let’s just say that red army told him to take his time in the land of reason, especially when they learn that jonah plans to formally meet alice’s parents. when he hears about this, lancelot tosses in the suggestion of proposing to alice while they’re in the land of reason, so that jonah can tell her parents about that too. jonah thinks it’s a fantastic idea..... so he decides to accept hot damn, a two month vacation!

whole route & lengths of stay (points streaked with red are mentioned within the fic minus nottingham whoops sorry):

london [16 days bc IT’S A BIG CITY LMAO (day 30 - 14). rides a morning train going to bristol on the 14th, arrives there midday.]

bristol [5 days (day 14 - 9). leaves bristol on the morning of the 9th to walk all the way to glastonbury, arrives there come late afternoon / evening.]

glastonbury [4 days (day 9 - 5). leaves midday of the 5th to walk their way to alice’s village, arrives there around sunset.]

alice’s village / ‘actual wonderland’ lmao [5 days (day 5 - 0). located somewhere in between bridgwater, taunton, and glastonbury. month 1 of vacation has ended.]

day log commentary!

thirty. arrival in the land of reason through falling - routes where alice does go back don’t feature her falling down london’s sky, so maybe she’s just... spit out from the hole????? idk haha so i altered it anyway!!!!! the landing scene was initially like this: jonah lands first, he catches alice in his arms, they banter a bit....... and then they suddenly remember the suitcase only for said object to fall right on jonah’s head LMAOOO....... it’s a cradle magical object that looks like a regular suitcase but will always be as light as a feather despite it’s contents + it has GREAT CAPACITY so jonah is actually okay!!!!!! i decided to scrap that scene concept though haha!

twenty-nine. does the hole to the land of reason only open around midnight or smth???? i’m sure it doesn’t, but i went with jonah + alice leaving cradle minutes before twelve o’clock, so when they arrive in london jonah gets to see the big ben signal midnight. is that planned on alice’s part? maybe. on another note, i’m assuming that a high-ranking officer + noble like jonah is definitely used to traveling to other countries so he’s definitely not one for homesickness, but i like the thought of him always feeling all sorts of uncomfortable on his first nights away from home - he doesn’t make a big deal about it bc he gets better three days in or so. idk, it just seems fitting for someone very particular like him.

twenty-seven. if luka’s hair is fucking dyed, my god (no wonder i found those light ends of his hair sorta funny), then here’s jonah excuse to adapt another hair color with the help of magic crystals LMAO - i always stick with a reality ensues standpoint, so his ikeman looks aside, i’m sure londoners would find jonah’s hair color (heck, maybe even his eye color) very unique. alice can’t deal with all that sudden attention lol but she somewhat proud that the man who has effortlessly captured the attention of the people of her world too is the man she proudly calls her lover ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

twenty-three. now that i think of it, what exactly does cradle mean when they say the land of reason? are they simply referring to the city of london, or earth as a whole??? most likely the latter, but i’m pretty sure no one except blanc (and possibly ray bc that globe in his room lol) know exactly how large the land of reason is. anyway, not gonna lie, i wanted jonah + alice talking about novels by maybe the likes of charles dickens, thomas hardy, george eliot or h.g. wells. heck, maybe jane austen and charlotte bronte too!!!! but i had to scrap that bc gaps in understanding cultural & historical references + use of language, figurative and non-figurative.... it’s a shame about the last two though - i’m sure jonah can somehow probably relate to the society depicted in their books since the red territory sounds like your typical breeding place of victorian era nobles lmao!!!!

eighteen. sometimes when people learn / gain a deeper understanding about new things, they have the urge to brag about said knowledge to others - of course jonah wants to show alice what he knows about her world so far haha! calling a train a mechanical beast tho lmao..... he refers to it that way, but i think it’s his target of fascination in london!!! noise and possibly environmental issues aside, it’s very convenient + efficient and can cater to all, but what he finds most impressive that it’s a man-made locomotive!!! that’s something worth incredible praise!!! ( ᐛ )و

fourteen. actual train ride!!! hmmm.... i think jonah only panics maybe a good thirty minutes in when the train starts moving??? alice tries to calm him down by pointing at the passing scenery out the window + idle chatter until jonah finally relaxes himself.... but then he starts to panic slightly again when alice suggests that they look around the train and he’s like: is that even remotely safe??? what about our baggages, can we leave them unattended??? hey, i saw you snicker - how dare you laugh at me!!!

nine. according to google, an estimate of a walk starting from bristol going to glastonbury is 8h 25min. that’s for the present time though - would’ve it been shorter or longer in the past??? idk, but definitely one’s pace during the walk affects the total time, lol. since railroads only started out around 1830s + i made alice a village girl, walking really is her way to go. pedestrianism was still a thing around the 19th century!!! her stamina in other routes tho lol (ﾟ⊿ﾟ)

six. here’s my self-indulgent thing of wanting to add a dance scene, pt. 1 LMAOOOO - the steps in the scene aren’t really from a certain folk dance in england, much less from glastonbury itself... i did look up on england folk dances, but i couldn’t pick one that i wanted to incorporate into the scene so i went with describing some random steps on the top of my head _(:3 」∠)_ ..... maybe someday, i’ll write a proper one..... on another note though, i suppose jonah can adapt quickly to folk dances, but he may come off a bit stiff at first in line / column dances where there’s the switch of partners??? i mean, there are formal 19th century dances that have that same concept, but.... the finesse + personal boundaries are all there lmao - he’s not against the casual intimacy + show of obvious joy in folk + common dances though, it’s just more of that he’s not used to the informality of it all, i think.

five. plot twist: alice does lead jonah to her home, the cottage on a hill like she always described, but what he doesn’t expect is when she solemnly says that she’d introduce him to her parents she leads him to the back of the hill and in the foot of the hill he finds himself staring at her parents’ gravestones as she’s smiling sadly with a bouquet of flowers in her hand OH WAIT WRONG GENRE WASN’T THIS SUPPOSED TO BE FLUFF LMAO - kidding aside, i do hope cybird catches onto the idea of a story event of chosen suitor going to the land of reason with alice to meet her parents or smth!!! they did do a travel event in the jp ver, after all.... but i’m not keeping my hopes up haha....... _(:3 」∠)_

zero. self-indulgent thing of wanting to add a dance scene, pt. 2 - tho it’s in the latter part along with the prompt lmao!!! hmmm, i’m pretty satisfied with how this one turned out tho i had a little problem arranging the first half - the rest i relatively left untouched even after i added the rest of the days to the fic. hopefully, does well as a nice end to the fic itself..... tbh, the thought of summer dress alice + casual shirt & pants jonah both barefoot & running around like children in moonlit woods (don’t do this in real life folks) made me smile a lot. give me more soft-and-not-so-tooth-rotting-fluff scenes, cybird

also!!! since the prompt involved a guitar, i had a certain track on repeat lmao - you can listen to it here, and it’s the second to the last track titled umibe ni yurete (swaying in the beach)! (ノ^∇^)

and that’s all that i’ve got today!!! thank you very much for reading + hope you’re staying safe & well wherever you are!!!!（｡≧◇≦）ﾉ

#rundown.txt #u know what else took me so long to decide on this fic #a title + summary LMAOOOO #i wanted the title to be something related to the prompt but.... so much for that orz #i usually have no problems making them up but #why was this a struGGLE LOLOL

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