#but nope Victor got all the best catches

[victorluvsalice]

However, with my picture lust momentarily satisfied, I was left with a small dilemma -- namely, what do next? I didn't want to send them home yet, but I wasn't sure what else they could do at the beach besides have another swim. I started scanning the nearby area, looking for harvestables and treasures they might collect --

And came across a large fishing pier with a little netted area full of fish in front of it, a couple of pop-up food stands, and big old fish balloons galore on a nearby beach -- otherwise known as the Sulani fishing festival! Delighted, I promptly had the gang head over there via various supernatural means (I ATTEMPTED to get Smiler to super-speed over, but when that didn't work, I had them use the traditional "bat" teleport -- seriously, super speed in this game is SO finicky!), hit the pier, and start fishing! They spent the rest of the afternoon reeling in their various catches:

-->Smiler had a bit of a slow start with a minnow of all things, but eventually came back with a celestial grouper, a colorful guppy, and a kitchen upgrade part! Not too shabby, but...

-->Victor absolutely ROCKED the competition, picking up a tuna, a beautiful parrotfish, a blue-fin tuna (however, that one was a protected species, so he promptly let it go again), and a bright fighting plakat! Damn -- must be the Van Dort genes. XD

-->And Alice...caught absolutely nothing but seaweed and driftwood. Like, I had them stay late, past the point where everything else in the festival had despawned, in a desperate attempt to give her enough time to catch ONE fish, but -- nada. Couldn't pull a thing. *pats her* Poor Alice -- I guess fishing just isn't for you!

[bex-la-get]

Hi! I'm new to tumblr and... can I request a fic where Ethan is the one who ask questions to Nat to test the new fMRI scan, but it is set on book 2 instead. Thank you and I admire your writings!

NONNY!!! I absolutely love this!!! I'm gonna say this takes place in mid-Book 2-ish.

K, before we start, I just wanna throw a disclaimer out there: my memory of Book 2 is fuzzy which means mistakes are likely. Sorry in advance if I get something wrong. Also, I'm not a medical professional, so any mistakes made are my own. Thank you.

Okay, let's go!!

Nat sat on the couch of the Diagnostics Office, absent-mindedly staring out the window and chewing on her lower lip. The last few weeks had been exhausting. Between the news that Edenbrook had lost its funding, Kyra's diagnosis, and the stress of being a Junior Fellow on the DT, it was all beginning to feel like it was too much. She wasn't sure how much more she could take at this point.

"Hey, you okay?" a voice asked.

She turned to the source and found Ethan looking at her, eyebrows furrowed in concern. She hadn't even heard him come in. She sat up straight. "Yeah, sorry; just needed to take a break."

"Nat," he said, coming to sit next to her. "It's okay if you're not. You don't have to be 'okay' all the time."

She sighed. "I know."

"What's going on?"

Nat shook her head. "Just... feeling a little overwhelmed is all. With everything going on as it is, it just kind of feels like a little too much."

Ethan nodded sympathetically. "I understand. The last few weeks have been... challenging, to say the least." Nat nodded in agreement and he gently ran his fingers along the back of her hand. "I wish I could offer you words of wisdom or at least better advice." He said, smiling sheepishly.

She gave him a small smile. "Just being here for me is enough. Thank you."

He returned her smile and linked his pinky with hers, giving it a tight squeeze. "I don't know if it will provide the distraction you need, but I could use your help with something if you have a few minutes?" Nat nodded. "The fMRI machine went on the fritz about a week ago and I was just told that it's back in working order. I'd like to test it out and make sure that it really is working normally. Care to help me out?"

"Sure," Nat said, "but only if you ask the questions this time. It's only fair since I did it last time."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "Deal."

The two of them made their way to the imaging lab, set Nat up within the machine, then Ethan made his way into the control room. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

"Loud and clear, boss," Nat replied.

"Good. I presume you remember the drill from last year. I'll ask you some questions and see how your brain responds as you answer."

"Sounds good."

"All right. First question: What is your middle name?"

Nat scoffed over the speakers. "That's your first question?"

"What's wrong with the question?"

"It's boring. I distinctly remember asking you some scandalous questions."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Rookie."

"Fine. Paige."

Ethan pursed his lips. Natalie Paige Cusack. Very pretty. Very her. Tucking this new knowledge into the back of his head he nodded as the scanner showing her brain lit up.

"All right. Next question: do you have any siblings?"

"Ethan, these are questions you can ask me in casual conversation," Nat protested. "Ask me something fun! I thought the point of this was to provide me a distraction, after all."

Ethan chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, answer this question while I think of something fun to ask you."

"Deal! In answer to your question, yes. I have an older brother named Victor but everyone calls him Vic. The only time I call him Victor is when he's in trouble."

"And just how often is he in trouble?" Ethan asked, amused. Nat's hippocampus lit up as she thought of her answer and he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"When we were kids? All the time," she answered, giggling. "As an adult, less often. Though it still happens."

Ethan chuckled and nodded. "All right. Per your request, here's a fun question. What's an embarrassing story from your childhood?"

"Oooh, you went right for the jugular. Respect. I like it. Okay, um... have I ever told you the goblin story?"

"The goblin story?"

She laughed. "Oh, man! You're gonna love this. Okay, so when I was little, I had a pretty big nose. I grew into it as I got older, but when I was little, it wasn't proportional to my face at all." Ethan listened to the story with an amused smile on his face as the scan showed her pregenual anterior cingulate cortex light up during her story.

"One night," she continued, "I stupidly fell asleep with gum in my mouth and woke up with it all in my hair. It was a nightmare."

"Oh no," Ethan said.

"Yep," Nat confirmed. "It was so bad that the only thing we could do was cut as much out of it as possible, which left me with this terrible haircut that, low-key, had me looking like I had been electrified.

"Anyway, Vic's knee-jerk response at seeing me with my short hair and big nose was to promptly call me goblin. And the stupid nickname stuck! He still calls me it even though it was over twenty years ago!" She paused in her storytelling, expecting to hear a response but heard nothing instead. "Ethan? Are you there? You better not have left!"

The speakers turned on and all she heard was his laughter. "Are you laughing?! Ethan!"

Ethan tried to speak through his laughter. "I'm sorry, I sympathize, really." He laughed again and Nat rolled her eyes.

"You are the worst, you know that?" she told him.

"Sorry Nat," he said, finally getting his laughter under control. "I'm sure you made a very cute goblin."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Ugh, just ask your next question, Ramsey."

He chuckled again and thought for a moment when a question appeared in the back of his mind. Rationally, he knew he shouldn't ask it. It wasn't exactly professional and went against the reset rule he initiated.

But he had enjoyed getting to know more about Nat and he was curious. “Tell me about your first kiss.”

“Trying to figure out how I got such high standards?” she joked.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to trigger an emotional response in your brain. Go.”

She giggled. “Hmm.. first kiss. Um, it was my first boyfriend, Matt. I was a Freshman in high school and he kissed me during the slow dance at our Homecoming dance.”

Her limbic system lit up on the scanner. “Sounds romantic,” he mused, pushing down the surge of jealousy he felt at the thought Nat kissing another man, even if it had been when she was significantly younger.

“Mm, not really. He wasn’t really good at it. He was kind of slobbery, if I’m being honest.”

Ethan scrunched up his face. “Gross.”

“Very,” she confirmed.

“Last question,” he said. He knew this was approaching risky territory but damn it, if Nat didn’t make him want to throw every one of his morals and rules right out the window. And, if he were honest... he really wanted to hear the answer to this question. “What was the best kiss you’ve ever had?”

“Hmm...” she hummed in thought for a long moment, Ethan’s heart pounding as he waited for her reply. Finally, she spoke. “New Year’s Eve, 2017.”

Ethan’s heart sunk. “Oh? Why then?”

“My ex-boyfriend was moving. He had accepted a position at one of the National Labs in New Mexico and I knew I was staying on the East Coast so we split. When the Ball dropped at midnight, he gave me a goodbye kiss. Then he got in a moving van the next day and moved across the country.”

Her amygdala lit up like a Christmas Tree and Ethan frowned. Clearly that memory was still fresh for her. “That’s enough questions, Nat. I think we’ve done our job here.” 

Ethan stopped the machine and met Nat back in the lab as she stood up. Ethan had been prepared for Nat to be sad after that last story but instead, he found her smiling up at him. “That was fun. I needed that.”

“You needed to be put into a giant metal machine and have your brain looked at?” Ethan asked.

She lightly hit his shoulder. “You know that’s not what I mean.” Her smile grew, making Ethan’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate the distraction.”

“I’m glad it helped,” he said, returning her smile.

“Well, I better go make my rounds,” she said as she began to make her way out of the lab. 

“Hey, Nat,” Ethan called. In a flash, he grabbed her hand, pulled her back to him, and cupped her face with his hands, giving her a searing kiss. Nat made a quiet noise of surprise at Ethan’s gesture but quickly melted into the kiss, her lips matching his fervor. His hands moved from her face to her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer, her arms circling around his neck as if to hold him in place. 

Neither knew how long they stood there. It could have been hours, days, even years. It didn’t matter; they didn’t care. In that moment, all they cared about was each other and they both hoped that the moment, however long it may have been, never ended.

But alas, eventually they broke apart at the sound of Nat’s pager beeping. Their lips separated, but neither moved very far apart, as they both fought to catch their breath. Ethan’s eyes were still closed, his forehead resting against hers as Nat opened her eyes. She nuzzled her nose against his and sucked in a breath when his blue eyes opened, locking with hers.

“What was all that for?” she asked in a whisper. 

He smiled sheepishly. “I may have taken slight offence as not being your best kiss ever.”

She pulled away slightly to look at him better, a giggle on her lips. “Did you get jealous after hearing about my ex?”

“No,” he retorted, defensively.

This time, she laughed. “You did! I can’t believe it, Ethan Ramsey got jealous. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” she confirmed. She leaned in close again and placed another chaste kiss on his lips. “But don’t worry, Ethan. You have nothing to worry about.” She pulled out of their embrace as her pager beeped again (thankfully it was just a notification that her latest lab test results were in and not an emergency). “I’ve had some much better kisses since then. One of them, in this very room.”

Ethan smirked. “Glad to hear I made the running.”

She returned his smirk. “You also might be interested to know, I was lying. That New Year’s kiss was best kiss I’ve ever had. But it was beat by a mysterious tall doctor on a balcony in Miami last year. You might remember him; he was a bit of a risk taker, that one.”

He chuckled. “He sounds familiar, I admit.”

“I hope he comes back,” she said as she made her way out of the room. “His kisses are mind-blowing.” She winked at him as she finished her statement then sauntered out of the room, leaving a smirking Ethan, shaking his head, behind.

Tag list below the cut:

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added/removed):  @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @paulfwesley @ethansdique @openheartfanfics @perriewinklenerdie @little-flowers-on-heaven @stateofgracious @coffeeheartaddict @liaromancewriter @potionsprefect @mm2305 @gryffindordaughterofathena @actuallybored @writer-ish @queencarb @takeharryandgo @lsvdw-blog @itsjustwinter​ @imaneditorthankyouverymuch-deac @chaoticchopshopheart​ @ohchoices​ @maurine07​ @oldminniemcg​ @parisa-kh​ @shanzay44​ @uberamsey @izzyourresidentlawyer​ @adiehardfan​ @custaroonie​ @mia143​ @a-crepusculo​ @takemyopenheart​ @toadfrog26​ @quixoticdreamer16​ @barbean​ @headoverheelsforramsey​ @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @crazy-loca-blog @dorisz

[dracos-eternity]

Rainbow After The Storm

Rainbow After The Storm- Henry Bowers

Word Count: 1,080

Summary: Your Henry Bowers girl best friend, the only girl in the entire friend group. Your the bright and bubbly ray of sunshine in this odd group of boys who still isn't afraid to kick someones ass. After Henry gets into a fight with his dad your there to make him feel better. Your gonna seem like a minor hoe bc your affectionate with all the boys but I promise your not. Henry and you have feelings for eachother, but neither knows. 

Warnings: Abuse, both verbally and physically. Mentions of self harm, cursing, and lots of fluff.

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

Y/N P.O.V.

"Henry, come on! I wanna go home, leave the poor kid alone!" I yell at Henry as him and the rest of the gang corner the new kid. The new kid looks at me as the boys turn around and sends me silent 'thank you.' Henry runs ahead of the boys and lifts me up, wrapping me up in a big hug. I laugh at the boy as he puts me down, the rest of the boys approaching us. Patrick looks at me sending me a warning look that I ignore before jumping on his back. He groans, rolling his eyes at me.

"Hi, Y/N." He huffs out, shifting my legs around his waist so I don't fall.

"Hey there sunshine." I greet the annoying boy, ruffling his hair.

"Y/N, I don't get a hug or anything?" A pout forms across the lips of Belch.

"Nope, not before me." Victor comes up behind me, pulling me off Patrick's back and hugging me. He sets me down and I hug Belch, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy now, crybaby?" I ask giggling at the boy. We approach Belch's car and Victor and Patrick crawl into the back, Belch driving and Henry in the front with me in his lap.

"Okay, Queen Bitch-A-Lot, where to?" Belch glances over at me smirking.

"Up your ass, Belch."

"Ew, I'm not into that, sorry." The car erupts in laughter. "No, but seriously Y/N, where are we going?"

"Henry's?" I raise an eyebrow looking at the boys, they all nod but I catch the look that flashes in Henry's eyes. I lean over onto the boys shoulder, whispering in his ear so only he can hear me as I interlace our hands. “What’s wrong bubs?” I bury my face in his neck as I speak.

“My dad, you know how he is Y/N, we got into an argument yesterday.” I use the free hand that was wrapped behind his neck and draped over his shoulders to play with his hair, calming him. 

“I know, Hen, it’ll be okay. I’m here.” His eyes start to gloss over, he gives my hand a small squeeze, something he does often. He looks into my eyes, heat creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks. The butterflies going wild in my stomach. He leans in slowly, agonizingly slow. Our lips never met, the car coming to a stop before they can. I huff out a breath of air stepping out the car. Henry runs off being stupid along with Victor and Patrick, Belch staying behind with me. I lean against the car, shifting into him as Belch throws his arm over my shoulder.

“Y/N, stop hiding how you feel, tell the boy you love him.” I look at him, bewildered.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Y/N, you love Henry, he loves you. Everyone can see it except you two.”

“No. He doesn’t see me as more than a friend and I don’t want to loose him.” 

“Look, Y/N, even that four eyed weird kid-”

“Richie, his name is Richie Tozier and stop bullying him, you know I hate it when you do that.”

“Fine, even Richie Tozier can see it without his glasses and he’s blind Y/N!” I huff at his words before responding. 

“Belch, what if your wrong? What if he doesn’t love me back?” He never gets a chance to respond because we hear Sheriff Bowers voice boom. I run over trying to save the boy.

“You worthless, good for nothin’, son of a bitch!” Sheriff Bowers slams Henry to the wall by his throat. 

“STOP! STOP! STOP!” My pleads come out as broken sobs, Henry and the boys sending me apologetic looks. My cries come to halt as I feel a blow to my face.

“Shut  up, you slut.” I land on the ground, Belch picking me up as I watch Henry hit his dad.

“Don’t fucking touch her! Don’t ever fucking touch her.” He screams, laying blows to his dads face. The boys grab Henry as Belch takes me back to his car. All of us falling back into our previous seating. Henry wipes my tears, trying to calm me. “Sh, it’s okay, it’s okay.” He pulls me close, holding me tightly. I wipe my face as we approach Belch’s house, the Huggins’ are never really home much so we’re alone. Henry picks me up bridal style and carries me in as I hide my face in his neck. He takes me into the bathroom and pulls down a first-aid kit. He cleans the small gash on my face from his dads ring, putting a band-aid over it. I clean of his knuckles and wrap his hand, giving the swollen, bruised and busted knuckles a look of pity.

“I’m sorry, bubs.” I look up at Henry, tears welling in my eyes. He grabs my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. 

“You did nothing wrong, okay?” I nod my head, getting off the counter and grabbing his hand that isn’t wrapped. We walk into the living room to find Belch and Victor passed out on the couches and Patrick in the kitchen. Henry lays on the last empty couch and I curl up next to him. “Hey, Y/N?”

“Yeah?” I look up, our faces inches apart. 

“Can I talk to you, about something serious?” 

“Of course, whats up?”

“I-I think I love you, your so gorgeous and your smart, and funny. Your always there when I need you, your like my rainbow after the storm.” I sit in silence, shocked from his words, guess Belch was right. I take a deep breath, preparing myself to speak.

“I love you to Henry, always have always will.” He leans forward, closing the gap between us. His lips meet mine in a slow, passion filled kiss. The rest of the world fading away. We finally pull apart for air and he leans his forehead against mine, a smile creeping onto his face.

“So, your my girlfriend now? Right?”

“I would love to Henry.” We hear a groan from the kitchen and look up to Patrick pouting.

“So does the mean I can’t check her out anymore.” I giggle at his words before Henry sends him a warning look.

“Do it and I’ll hurt you.” I kiss Henry, cuddling into his side and smiling at the title I’d just earned., Henry Bowers Girlfriend.

[kexing]

Venji has always been endgame: Benji’s attraction to Victor

the first thing I really need people to understand is that Benji is not watching the show, he’s not seeing things through Victor’s point of view, and for the most part of the season he has no idea Victor is struggling with his sexuality. from Benji’s point of view, Victor is straight and into Mia. that’s how I’m going to be analyzing his thoughts and actions (well, guessing mostly because he does lack screen time and insight moments. hopefully we’ll get more of him in season two!!)

btw I’m gonna break it down episode by episode because I’m insane (and I also feel strangely connected to Benji so don’t @ me)

Episode 1 - Welcome to Creekwood

as I’ve mentioned before, you can interpret Benji’s “nice shoes!” line as interest. but even if you’re not willing to do that, I still think it’s valid to consider that he might’ve felt some kind of immediate connection to Victor (if episodes 2 and 3 are any indication of that. and the Call Me Maybe lyrics).

Episode 2 - Stoplight Party

the “Benji attempts to teach Victor how to make a espresso” scene is very much about Victor’s attraction to Benji so I don’t wanna look too much into it. also Benji comes off as (at least for me!) a very attentive and loving person, so his dedication to teaching Victor felt very genuine. but still like...... he did get lost in Victor’s eyes for a moment before the milk spilled akdjksdjjs

then at the end of the episode Benji calls Victor late at night (he even apologizes for that) when he could’ve called Victor at any other time or could’ve just told him at school. and well, (I may be reaching here but headcanons are always good!!) I like to believe Benji couldn’t stop thinking about Victor, which is why he decided to call. for some unknown reason he already feels connected to Victor and wanted to hear his voice and—

let me stop here before I write a whole fanfic because that’s not the purpose of this post.

Episode 3 - Battle of the Bands

oh boy, I’m gonna try to unpack this episode, hopefully I’ll make some sense. I’m very sorry if I fail!

so, Victor and Benji have the Call Me Maybe (cutest) moment, in which Victor tells Benji that he’s going on a date with Mia the next day.

Now. I need you to remember that Victor explicitly told Benji that he and Mia wouldn’t go to the Battle of the Bands and that Benji had already performed when Victor got there and only performed again because his band won the battle (so I’m pretty sure Victor wasn’t supposed to hear the Call Me Maybe cover). therefore this wasn’t Benji confessing his feelings to Victor. if anything, I believe it was his way of dealing with the intense and ever-growing feelings that he has for Victor through his biggest passion (music), pretty much like making a reference to something that you know no one else will understand (since for everyone else it’s just a Carly Rae Jepsen bop).

but then Victor eventually shows up and hears Benji singing Call Me Maybe and for him it’s definitely not just a Carly Rae Jepsen bop anymore. it’s their song

after the performance, it looks like Benji is going to talk to him about it, maybe to try and make it seem like it’s no big deal (since he thinks Victor is into Mia, and he himself is in a long term relationship) but Derek appears and we’re all left heartbroken (Simon & his friends included).

what I’m trying to say is: they are two halves of the same idiot. while Victor is in denial of his sexuality and attraction to Benji, Benji is in denial of his growing feelings for Victor. we love this denial duo

Episode 4 - The Truth Hurts

not much to say about this one BUT. at the beginning of the episode you can see how Victor and Benji are working totally in sync, to the point where they barely need words like the freaking soulmates that they are. honestly, I’m done pretending they aren’t soulmates because this show just kept shoving that into our faces over and over and if you failed to see it then it’s not my problem (or maybe it is since I’m literally spending my time trying to explain exactly that. but I just care too much about these two and I want people to understand why).

then Derek calls and Benji picks up lovingly because he’s a loving person and a caring boyfriend and even though he might be struggling with his feelings for Victor, he’s not about to neglect his boyfriend (shame we can’t say the same thing about Derek) (no I will not stop throwing shade at him).

Episode 5 - Sweet Sixteen

I could try and say several things about this one but for real, BENJI DREW VICTOR AND GAVE HIM THE DRAWING AS A BIRTHDAY GIFT. like! this stupidly artistic boy!!!!!!!!! this stupidly caring boy!!!!!!!!! he could’ve bought Victor literally anything or not even bothered to think of a gift At All, but he took the time to DRAW VICTOR LIKE ONE OF HIS FRENCH BOYS!!!!! what am I supposed to do with this knowledge!!!!

now I’m imagining Benji observing Victor. the way the light hits his face, how his shoulders move, the shape of his hands....... all the while telling himself it’s just to draw Victor!!!!! but that’s still beautiful and frankly thirsty nonetheless.

p.s I was robbed of a scene like that.

Episode 6 - Creekwood Nights

not much to say about this one except the show blatantly telling us that Derek can be real shitty sometimes. also, I wanna talk about Venji’s dynamics throughout the show so bad but it deserves a post of its own so I’m gonna hold my tongue.

Episode 7 - What Happens In Willacoochee

(stays in Willacoochee or maybe it will haunt your gay ass all the way to New York).

oh boy, this is where shit starts going down for real.

so Victor kisses Benji. I’m not going to defend Victor because what he did was reckless and dumb and frankly disrespectful. but I need to say that it was going to happen sooner or later because when you repress something too hard and for too long, it’s bound to come back with full force and explode in your face. I really wish it was in a different circumstance, of course, but also life isn’t always made of perfect situations and shit happens. (and nope, that does not excuse Victor’s actions).

now think about Benji. he’s been struggling with his feelings for Victor, who as far as he knows is straight and in a relationship, and then suddenly Victor kisses him. my best guess (due to his reaction to Victor’s speech in episode 10) is that he thinks Victor isn’t being serious about it, that in no moment that kiss meant anything but curiosity and recklessness, when they both have people to lose (again, he doesn’t know that Victor struggles with his sexuality, much less that Victor has feelings for him).

so yeah, I believe Benji was upset, not only with Victor though, but with himself.

(I’ll come back to this in a second)

no Benji in episode 8 so.......

Episode 9 - Who The Hell Is B

Benji decides to leave the coffee shop. Victor tells him that the kiss wasn’t his fault and Benji says that being around Victor makes him feel guilty, now why is that?

firstly because he’s not a psychopath and the fact that he cheated on Derek makes him feel guilty. but I do believe that that’s not the only thing that makes him feel guilty. deep down he liked kissing Victor. he likes Victor, he’s been doing his best to keep that buried but Victor had to go and complicate things, so now the only way to avoid making a bigger mess is staying as far away as possible from each other. so he runs back to the safety of his relationship with Derek.

(listen, I know the show makes it seem like Benji is super angry and wants nothing to do with Victor but I don’t believe that’s the case. he’s upset and feeling guilty for liking someone else, denial does make you act very hostile sometimes).

Episode 10 - Spring Fling

Benji’s denial continues but (thankfully) it won’t last much longer.

he goes to the bathroom and tells Victor that he’s read his letter and that he does forgive him for kissing him but that that doesn’t change anything, that it’s best for them to stay away from each other.

that’s until he hears Victor’s speech to Derek (which was more to Benji than Derek so). that’s the moment he realizes that Victor actually likes him, that the kiss as cursed as it was had meant something, that they both feel exactly the same thing. that’s what gives him courage to finally accept that he can’t be with Derek anymore because his heart belongs to someone else. (has belonged to Victor from the moment they met) akdjskdjsj someone please tell me to shut up

which leads us to the bench kiss(es) scene. now, these boys are a whole mess because Victor was still technically dating Mia (he did try to come out to her before, couldn’t do it so he decided to come out after the Spring Fling) (good intention, poor execution).

But I also believe this was just lazy writing and they wanted to have a scene where Mia catches Victor and Benji together. it could’ve been done better, they could’ve been just touching foreheads or something but they wanted the full drama so the kiss(es) happened. I’m taking 50 points away from the writers for this. (also does not excuse Victor or Benji since they literally met halfway. these idiots are so in love wtf!)

(I still love them though, and hope they do better in the future, for themselves and for each other).

anyway, I think that’s it! if you read up until this point: thank you so much!!!! I tried my best to understand and explain Benji since the show said fuck Benji stans. hope this helps!

— love, MJ

[batfam-rewrites]

Batfam During Quarantine: Happy Holiday’s

December 1

Duke: So, what weird traditions do you have for Christmas.

Stephanie: What makes you think we have weird traditions?

Duke: Please, at this point you all are so predictable, I can tell you all what you’re gunna to do on Christmas Day. Dick text everyone he knows that celebrates Christmas Merry Christmas,

Dick: Why shouldn’t I?

Duke: Jason is gunna bitch about all of his presents or tune us out or both, Tim is gunna sleep through most of it because he’ll be up all night wrapping presents, Steph will spend most of the day on social media, Barbara and Dick will get very cozy on the couch probably reading something, and Damian will wake everyone up by jumping on the bed screaming, 

Barbara: Sounds about right!

Cassandra: What about us?

Duke: You guys are just about as new as I am to this family so I’m not to sure.

Harper: So there is some weird tradition?

Dick: Nothing too weird, just an advent calendar.

Tim: But with movies, so for example the first day could be Home Alone, the next day could be Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, then the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, then Home Alone 3...

Cassandra: I’m assuming Home Alone 4 is in there somewhere?

Stephanie: No, fuck that movie!

Cassandra: Damn, just assuming! Don’t get so judgmental.

Jason: The only movie that is consistently.....

Dick: Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, don’t ruin the surprise, Jaybird!

Jason: Whatever, you’ll love the movie. It’s funny as hell.

Duke and Cassandra: Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool.

December 6

At a mall in Central City

Dick: *grabs a large stuffed animal unicorn and walks with Wally towards Jason, Victor, Roy, and Donna This is Fred.* He’s coming with us. 

Donna: Dick, what is this?

Dick: You didn’t hear it from me but *whispers loudly* Fred is a secret agent. He’s here to save all unicorn kind.

Roy: *stiffles a laugh*

Wally: *laughs loudly*

Victor: Why do you need a unicorn? You’re not a child! 

Dick: It’s for Dami. And Fred is a secret agent.

Roy: Uhh no he’s......

Dick: *throws Fred at Roy* Sneak attack!

Roy: Hey!

Donna: You don’t get the unicorn back until we get to the car!

Dick: No fair! *spots the pet store across the way* OOOOO, PUPPIES! *jumps on Jason’s back* Piggy back ride.

Jason: No! *throws Dick off his back*

Victor: Jason, what is up with Dick today?

Jason: No idea.

Dick and Wally: *starts hopping like a frog around the store*

December 10

Damian: HAPPY HANUKKAH, SUCKAS!!!

Bruce: Settle down Damian.

Damian: NEVER!!!!!

Bruce: Okay, we’ll see you guys soon, we’ll be at Kane Manor. Alfred is in charge.

Dick: Why not me! I’m responsible!

Bruce: No you’re not.

Dick: I am too!!!

Barbara: Really? What about last night?

——

Nightwing: Hey, Babs, check this out! *jumps off the roof of a building* YEAH I’M FREEEEEEEE! FREE FAAALLLLLIIIN’! fires his grappling hook across the street

——

Dick: So? That proves nothing!

Selina: *whispers to Damian* Get to the car.

Damian: *starts leaving*

Bruce: Goodbye everyone see you in eight days! *backs away slowly* ALFREDS IN CHARGE!!! *running to the garage*

December 13

Jason: *to Stephanie, Tim, Cassandra, Harper, and Cullen* Okay, everyone hold on!

Barbara: What’s going on?

Jason: We’re sledding down the stairs.

Barbara: Without me! Someone make room! Let’s go!

They sled down the stairs landing outside.

Dick: I’M GOING NEXT!!!!

December 15

Damian: Can I light the candle tonight?

Bruce: I don’t think that would be safe enough. Maybe next year.

Damian: You let me roam the streets of America’s hell hole dressed with a target on my chest, how would lighting a candle be MUCH WORSE THEN THAT?

Bruce: You can’t be trusted with fire! Last time I tried to let you light Dick’s birthday candles you set the table in fire!

Kate: Shit Damian! I thought you were getting better.

Damian: I’M TRYING! NOW GIMME THE LIGHTER OR ELSE I’LL SLIT YOUR THROATS!

December 19

Tim: *walks in the back door* We got the tree!

Jason: *runs down the stairs* Lets see it!

Damian, Cassandra, Dick, and Barbara run down stairs to see the tree and stare at it.

Dick: Ummm.... Tim, Steph, did you guys think of how the tree would fit into our house?

Stephanie: Well you said to get a cheap one and we did! We got it for free!

Damian: And where did you get it? The woods?

Tim: How did you know?

Dick: Okay, we’ll find somewhere to place this one and get a new one to decorate tomorrow.

Tim and Stephanie: Okay.

Three squirrels jumps out of the tree.

Damian: SQUIRREL!!!

Dick: Don’t touch it!

Jason: Let it bite you!

Barbara: *elbows Jason in the side* Jason, shut up!

December 20

Bruce: Can someone hand over the Joker ornament?

Dick: *hands over the ornament* 

Jason: That ornament is the bomb!

Everyone: Oh my god!

Jason: Look, I’m just saying I would definitely not break that one with a crowbar!

Dick: Shut up Jason!

Barbara: You’re not the only one to have been traumatized by the Joker, Jason!

Jason: Yeah, but I’m the only one the Joker killed.

Harper: Why do you even have ornaments of your villians, Bruce!

Stephanie: Oh, I got this one! Because the trophies in the Bat-cave aren’t enough!

Jason: *high fives Stephanie*

Bruce: It’s because I like to remember those who are not spending the holidays in the most ideal place.

Jason: So you are capable of emotion! I never knew!

Alfred: *hits Jason on the head*

Dick: Awww, this is a cute one *holds up an ornament of Bruce and Selina kissing in their costumes*

Selina: I’ll hang that one up! *reaches for it and places it on the tree* Do you remember that one Bruce?

Bruce: Yeah, that was when we first started working together. *both of them kiss*

Damian: I CAUGHT THE SQUIRRELS!!!

Dick: No!

Barbara: Put it outside!

Damian: I’m going to adopt it!

Alfred: No your not!

Bruce: Set it free!

Jason: *takes the squirrels and throws them outside* 

Harper: Problem solved.

Damian: NOOOO! MY BABIES! *runs to the door*

Dick: *puts a hand on Damian’s shoulder* It’s for the best.

Christmas Eve

Jason: Yippee Ki Yay motherfuckers!

Harper: So we’re watching Die Hard?

Jason: Fuck yeah! And then The Ref!

Duke: Oh! That is a great movie!

Tim: Damn it! You all weren’t supposed to know the movie!

Harper: We still haven’t seen it! Sounds interesting!

Tim: Yeah but now the reaction is going to be underwhelming.

Dick: I don’t know. I’d probably just be whelmed.

Jason: NO! *jumps towards Dick and wrestles him* I...hate...your...use...of....those.....words.

Dick: Get off me!

Bruce: Jason! Get off of your brother!

Jason: Fuck you!

Alfred: *grabs Jason’s ear* 

Jason: Ouchie! Alfred!!!

Alfred: I’ve frankly had enough of your swearing today Jason! Go to your room and don’t come down until it is time to grab your wrapping paper for the presents you bought!

Jason: *stomps towards his room* I’m fucking....

Alfred: STOP SWEARING OR ELSE I WILL WASH YOUR MOUTH OUT WITH SOAP! AND STOP STOMPING!! IF YOU’RE GOING TO ACT LIKE A CHILD THEN I’LL TREAT YOU LIKE ONE!!!

Bruce: Thank you, Alfred!

Alfred: Not a problem Master Bruce.

Later that night

Harper: Omg, this movie is hilarious!!!

Cullen: How have we never seen this before?

Damian: HOW DARE YOU SHELTER ME FROM WATCHING THIS! THIS IS THE GREATEST CHRISTMAS MOVIE I’VE SEEN!

Bruce: I am regretting not having Damian wait a year. Am I a bad parent?

Tim and Stephanie: Yes.

Cassandra: Hey Dick, when do we get to open presents?

Dick: I’m not saying it.

Cassandra: Babs?

Barbara: Nope!

Cassandra: Jason?

Jason: WHAT!

Cassandra: When are we going to open presents?

Dick: Jason, don’t do it!

Jason: Presents? Is that what you said? Presents? We'll open them when we get there. No, in fact, I'll save you the trouble. Your present is a giant fucking cannon. And you're gonna crawl in it. Then I'm gonna get 2 pounds of gunpowder and I'm gonna shoot you right out of Jersey! And then I'm gonna drive to Jersey, and pick up all the parts of your body and put them in a plastic bag. Then I'm gonna drive to my house with you in the bag and toss you into the fireplace. I'm gonna get my glass of whiskey and watch the Charlie Brown Special with your ashes burning IN MY FUCKING HOUSE! AGH!

Alfred: *runs in with a bar of soap and shoves it in Jason’s mouth* WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THAT MOUTH!!!!

Christmas Day

Damian: *jumps out of bed and runs to Bruce’s and Selina’s room* YOU GUYS DRESSED! 

Selina: Ehhh....

Damian: *opens the door and jumps on the bed* COME ON IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS!!!!

Dick: *walking by* Damian, what do you think you’re doing?

Damian: PRESENTS!!!

Dick: *stares at Damian* Presents. 

Damian: *locks eyes with Dick*

Dick: Presents! Babs, come here!

Barbara: *walks over* What’s up?

Dick: Presents.

Barbara: Presents!!

Dick: PRESENTS!!!!! *lifts up Damian and they run downstairs to look at their presents*

Jason: Can you basic bitches keep it down? I’m trying to sleep.

Damian: *grabs one of Jason’s presents* this feels like it won’t break! *throws the present at Jason’s door*

Jason: *catches the present and opens it* AWESOME! A BOOK OF H.P. LOVECRAFT’S STORIES!!!

Dick: How is Jason such a nerd?

Barbara: *shrugs her shoulders*

Tim: PRESENTS!!!! *runs down the stairs*

Stephanie: LET’S GO SUCKAS!!!!! *runs down the stairs*

Duke: *to Bruce* Is it always like this?

Bruce: *sipping coffee* I wish I can say no.

Harper: If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em! *runs into the fray* Where’s my presents ass-hats!

New Years Eve

Everyone: 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1...Happy New Year!

Dick: *kisses Barbara*

Stephanie: *kisses Tim*

Bruce: *kisses Selina*

Jason: *turns to look for some one* Oh, that’s right, I have no one.

Harper: *raises his glass of grape juice* Here’s to hopefully a better year!

Everyone: Cheers!

Happy New Year everyone! I hope you all had a safe and wonderful holiday! this month. Sorry if there are any errors. Much like the last one this was a bit last minute! Let’s hope that 2021 will be a much better year than 2020!

[anxiouslyfred]

In The Nightmare Together

Summary: Virgil shares his dreams with his soulmate and while he never talks about them they do, and happen to be one of his friends. There’s just a tiny bit of avoidance where Virgil does not want to mention this to them at all.

TW: Murder description, Nightmares

/\/\

Virgil had always been scared by the dreams he had. Whether they were actual nightmares that came from his own mind or the bizarre creations his soulmate dreamt of, they were unsettling and left him with hundreds of things to worry about.

He'd stopped talking about his dreams fairly young, and had seen the schools counsellor through out his time there, just trying to avoid being terrified of any situation the dreams made seem plausible happening. Once, after finishing schooling and he was with a professional therapist, they'd tried researching something from a dream together to see if it helped and found it only made things worse.

Instead they'd now focus on distinguishing the dreams that came from himself and the ones from his soulmate. It was helping actually, because Dr Picani could help Virgil work through the fears he had coming up in dreams to reduce how frightening they were, while making points about the emotional tones of his soulmates dreams, and how that suggested they perceived the things that happened in their dreams.

The one thing Picani couldn't help with beyond suggesting he simply mentions it when he has a chance was that Virgil knew with full certainty who his soulmate was. They'd talk about their dreams all the time around the group of friends Virgil had been pulled into by Patton, and every time Virgil knew exactly what could happen next.

He just couldn't bring himself to say something. What if his soulmate was disappointed in him, or dismissed all the fears that permeated his thoughts and his dreams? Worse than that, what if they realised he had known for ages and had never mentioned it, or spoken about his own dreams? They could think Virgil was ashamed of his, or worse that he didn't want to be their soulmate, when really all he wanted was to be able to be pulled along in the tide of his soulmates energy and confidence.

Really, Virgil was already resolute he'd just carry on being Remus's friend through the years and never mention their connection. It happened often enough that soulmates wouldn't meet that there was no real force pushing him to confess beyond societies belief everyone needed a life partner and who better than the one the universe declared for you?

The latest dream he could remember had definitely come from Remus. It had felt relaxed, and focused on things like putting the knives away as they were thrown towards them, or just how the blood splatters could have happened in the bathroom when they were next aware of being on a rooftop.

Virgil thought it was a bit tame considering the dreams they'd had when an aquarium first opened in the town, and was already curious over just how Remus would connect the scenes when telling it to their friends. It definitely seemed like one that wouldn't get identified as a dream before they began, passing it off as a ghost story just to scare Patton and Roman that little bit more. At least being aware of what happened in the stories stopped Virgil being included on the list of people Remus tried to scare.

“Oh, now my Precious Skelly is here, I can tell you all this awesome story I heard last week.” Remus declared as soon as Virgil made his way over to them in the cafe.

“Sounds ominous, did you really need everyone here to start telling it?” He quipped back, heading to the counter for a drink before he sat down.

The rest of the group hadn't paused their conversation with Remus's call beyond glancing up to wave at  Virgil so it was more likely they just hadn't felt like arguing through all the tangents and diversions the others made to try and avoid hearing his stories. There was the small possibility that Logan had been the one to suggest waiting as a delay to avoid watching Patton's reactions a second time though.

“Yeah, like once there was this guy who like really really pissed off his ex on the flats on Grimsby Drive. Literally the ex chased him through the house throwing knives at him on the day he was actually meant to be moving out. The best thing was though, the ex didn't own the knives anyway, so instead of like trying to get to an escape route this bloke was just constantly catching the knives and racing into the kitchen to put them away.” Remus began, speaking loud enough that all their friends conversations stopped, along with a few from the surrounding tables.

Roman looked like he was about to speak up, but Remus was already bouldering on after his dramatic pause. “Real neat freak, I guess. Personally, I'd be more likely to throw the knives back at someone attacking me like that, but stabbing them into a knife block while making eye contact is definitely a mood. Not that glaring down maniacs actually works. Apparently the ex caught up to him in the bathroom. The blood scatters were drips along the floor, note even smudged by someone moving through them, but the body wasn't even there. You'll never guess where they found him?” Remus was bouncing in their seat describing the scene, looking around at everyone as though expecting them to make guesses.

“If he's a proud fighter surely he emerged the victor of their spat and there was no body to be found, only the police arriving to take his attacker away.” Roman claimed.

Patton perked up at the suggestion, not so subtly looking for a way to end the story. “You know that might be one of the few things I can see police being needed for. They use like a million times too much force in most scenarios the news reports them arriving in. Good for the guy though, it's important to get help when needed.”

“That's not what happened though!” Remus groaned, flinging their arms behind them. “Come on, guess where the body was found!”

“Actually Patton, the police could still escalate that scenario beyond what's necessary. What would be best for someone attacking in such a way as this would be attempting to disarm them and calm the attacker down. Historically, the police have taken a much more violent response to these scenarios than they should, causing harm or possibly death to uninvolved parties on occasion.” Logan carried on with the discussion of police but Virgil could see Remus would snap and try to bring their focus back to the story soon.

Instead he spoke up, shaking his head. “So how did the guy get onto the roof, Remus? Come on, carry on the story and we can argue the morality of the police force later.”

Virgil wasn't sure why that sentence had everyone turning to him for a moment. It had been a question related to the story so... Remus hadn't mentioned the rooftop scene yet so he shouldn't have known about it.

“Do you know the story too, Virgil? Remus never mentioned the murder happening upon the roof of a building.” Logan asked. He'd blinked a couple times, clearly repeating the conversation in his head to double check was was said.

Before Virgil could agree and move conversation on his wrist was being grabbed as he got dragged through the doors to the cafe. “ SOULMATE TIME BITCHES! YOU GUYS CAN HEAR THE REST OF MY DREAM LATER!” Remus screamed over their shoulder, even bouncier than before, and almost pulling Virgil straight into a lamppost.

Virgil's mind was spinning: Was Remus going to get some revenge for not mentioning it earlier? Demand details of the story and ignore that it was clearly a shared dream?

“So where do you want to have our first date? Golf course? Break into the mansions on the edge of town? Abandoned warehouse? Haunted house at the end of your road?” Remus began rattling off ideas before pausing when they glanced over to Virgil. “Nope, turn those thoughts off. I get it, bringing up dreams when you literally never speak about yours would be awkward and we've had like zero time alone in all the years we've been friends. You didn't want all eyes on you, and that wouldn't get help from your anxiety either. It's all good. Now come on, Nightmare Fuel, we've got a date to go on and I might steam roll everyone into hearing about our dreams but I'm not rolling over this decision!”

“But, we've known each other for ages and I never said. You aren't angry?” He had to ask, blinking, but letting his feet start taking them towards his home.

Remus shook their head, almost as wildly as a dog would after getting out of a river. “Course not. Date Where Now?”

“The haunted house? Do you actually know how to get in there?” Virgil decided, letting the conversation swap subjects as they walked away.

[kyber-crystal]

➳ there and back again || s.r.

summary: it’s just a nice little competition to declare who comes out on top as the victor. what could possibly go wrong?

words: ~1.5k

warnings: a chaotic stevey/nsam trio. that’s it haha

a/n: trying a new layout! hope you guys like it teehee. this is an old oneshot so i apologize it’s poorly written. 

tags: @sunstalgia​ @wxstedhexrt​ @purpleskiesstorm​ @sylvie-writes​ hopefully this won’t flop if i tag a few mutuals teehee

"You boys ready to get your asses beat?" you teased as you tied your shoelaces.

"Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart," Steve warned. "I hate to brag, but I'm going to win."

Sam groaned. "I don't know why I agreed to this. Y'all are both fast as hell. Last time I got so winded trying to catch up with you."

"Winner gets twenty from the losers!" you quickly shouted, and both of your friends' faces lit up. "And also, bragging rights and glory."

"I swear, you people act more like 13 year-olds than 30-something year olds," Pietro commented as he leaned against the fridge, sipping an iced latte. "You making bets over who's gonna beat the other in a race?"

"Yup," you all replied in unison.

"Well then, see ya," he nodded, as you headed out the door.

"Alright," you breathed out, setting your hands on your hips as you surveyed your landscape. "So around Central Park, checkpoint at Cherry Hill."

"Got it," Steve nodded.

You tapped your wristwatch a few times, setting a timer. "Okay. On your marks. Get set. Go!"

You quickly broke into a sprint, feet pounding against the dewy pavement as you pumped your arms and legs as fast as you could go. You refused to look back, knowing that by doing so you'd be slowed down and fall behind both of them.

The scorching August heat was relentlessly beating down on your back, sweat rolling down your temples and causing your tank top and leggings to cling tightly to your skin. You kept going, though, despite your body screaming at you to stop.

Several minutes later you were not far behind Steve, with Sam only a few yards ahead of him as well. He didn't seem the least bit exhausted as he made a sharp turn and continued sprinting down the sidewalk, and if it hadn't been for your excessive training you would've given up within the first five minutes of starting.

"On your left," he said as he sprinted ahead of Sam.

"On your right!" you shouted as you zipped past both of them.

"Damn it!" you heard Sam let out a frustrated yell as he picked up the pace. “To think I was the top of my class in PE...”

"On your left," Steve informed him a few minutes later.

Then again. "On your left."

"Uh huh, on my left. Got it."

You were nowhere in sight at this point, and as Sam was still jogging Steve came around again from behind, starting from a new lap.

"Don't say it! Don't you say it!"

"On your left!"

"Come on!" he groaned. "Why don't you try targeting Y/N?"

Both men stopped for a moment and skidded to a halt, locking eyes with each other.

"Oh, shit."

"Language."

"Whatever. C’mon! We don't have any time to waste. If we lose, Y/N's never gonna let us live this down."

They continued on side by side while still keeping their pace, keeping close eyes and ears out for you; making sure to stay alert at all times.

"Christ, where'd she go?"

"I don't know—"

"On your right!" they heard you shout as you came bursting ahead of both of them, the wind from your speediness whipping them in their faces. "Come on, slowpokes! Last lap!"

"Are you kidding me?!" Sam yelled after you. 

Steve didn't slow down as they were chasing after you but after a bit, Sam grew frustrated and was unable to continue running, sitting down at the edge of the fountain to catch his breath.

"I win," you smirked as you took a sip out of your water bottle, wiping your mouth and letting out a satisfied sigh. "Victory sure is sweet."

"Need a medic?" the super-soldier looked over at the breathless Sam Wilson.

"I need a new set of lungs," he panted, "Dude, you guys just ran like, 13 miles in 30 minutes. Y/N, I don't even know where you went but you literally just pulled an Usain Bolt on my ass, what the hell."

"I guess I got a late start," Steve shrugged.

"Late start my ass," you snorted, crossing your arms over your chest. "Admit it, boys. I'm the champion here."

"Pfft. Why don't you go take another lap."

"Nah," you declined his offer, "I'd rather lounge around in bunny slippers while watching you do my dishes. Oh! And...you both owe me twenty."

They both took their wallets out of their back pockets, reluctantly placing twenty-dollar bills into your palm.

"Thank you," you smiled sweetly, before sliding the cash in your pocket.

"It's your beds, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Your beds, they're too soft. When I was over there I'd sleep on the ground and use rock for pillows, like a caveman. Now I'm here at the compound, lying in my bed, and it's like..."

"Lying on a marshmallow," Steve finished, "feel like I'm gonna sink right to the floor."

"Exactly."

"Also, since I won, you guys have to be my butlers for the rest of the day."

"Since when was that part of the rules?"

"It's always been part of the rules for anyone who wins anything," you defended yourself. "I'd like a piggyback ride all the way back to the subway station."

Steve just laughed and shook his head, bending his knees slightly. "Alright, alright. Get on."

"Hey, I'm just as strong as him!" Sam exclaimed. "You only want him to carry you so that you get a valid excuse to feel his muscles."

Your eyes widened at his statement, feeling a blush rise up your cheeks. "No I don't."

"Yes you do."

"Oh, shut up," you muttered, hopping onto Steve's back and wrapping your legs firmly around his torso. He hooked his arms underneath to hold you steady, as your arms went around his neck.

"Ew, you're sweaty. You smell. What happened to your blueberry and coffee cologne kind of scent? Why do you sweat so much? But I guess you wearing tight shirts make up for it, since—STEVE! Stop!" you let out a squeal as he leaned backwards slightly, your heart stopping momentarily as you came dangerously close to falling off his back. "You're gonna drop me! Stop!"

Steve let out a laugh, then proceeded to spin around and around to make you dizzy. You let out a high-pitched shriek, most likely catching the attention of a few passerby who wondered why Captain America had the normally serious Agent Y/N on his back and you were laughing like a little schoolgirl with goofy grins on both your faces.

"Say the magic words, then I'll let you down."

"I hate you."

"Wrong."

"We're no longer friends if you don't set me down right now."

"Nope."

"Steven Grant Rogers, you set me down right this instant or I'm going to beat your ass if you don't!" you threatened, kicking wildly and slapping his shoulders. "Let me down!"

"Those aren't the words," he said simply, rather amused by the frustration on your face. 

It was rather cute, if he was being honest.

"Okay, okay! I love Steve Rogers because he's the best Avenger and his muscles are like no other man here in New York! Now let me down!"

"There we go," he chuckled as he released his grip on you and you hopped off, dusting off your clothes. "See? That wasn't so hard."

"Attention-seeker," you accused, "you just wanted to do that so I'd be forced to compliment you. As good-looking as you are, I'm not putting effort into giving attention to someone who already gets so much of it every day."

"You think I'm good-looking?"

"Don't let it get to your head, Rogers," you rolled your eyes, but he could clearly see the pink tinge in your face which he knew wasn't from just running in the scorching heat. This only amused him further.

"If it makes you feel better, I think you're beautiful."

You almost choked on your own spit, going into a coughing fit and hitting your back to try and stop it.

"Don't mind me," Sam cleared his throat, "I'm just here, third wheeling. Or, chaperoning this couple who refuses to admit they're so in love with each other, if you'd like to put it that way. Oh wow, now Steve is blushing. Wow. Amazing. Y/N looks like she's going to faint. Wowwwww. What a beautiful love story. I totally don't feel left out."

"You wanna go for shawarma?" you offered. "I'm starving, and honestly, I could use the time away from Tony. He'll drag us down to play Mario Kart as soon as we get back home."

"Come on! Stop treating me as if I don't exist!"

You both looked over at Sam and laughed.

"I'm sorry," you sympathetically patted his shoulder. "It's quite the burden, dealing with Captain America on the daily."

"Damn right, now that you practically asked him out on a date and are set to become his girlfriend, I have to deal with even more excessive PDA."

"So, this is a date?" Steve raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that what this is?"

"No! It's not—" you let out a sigh of defeat, "well, if you want it to be, then...yes."

"It's a date, then," he smiled widely, kissing your cheek and sliding an arm around your waist.

"How come I never get the girls," Sam grumbled as he followed behind the two of you. "Life is so unfair."

[oh-for-fic-sake]

I Just Move Things

Whilst looking through luthors drives the league find a new metahuman who is to powerfull for her own good.

Masterlist

Warnings: swearing

A/n:So this is a new series of imagines with Justice league/ teen reader obviously no smut but fluff angst and everything in between i know that the pic is starlight but that’s there more for the eyes.

(not my gif/pic)

I Just Move Things

"Seriously this girl, shes incredible, Lex didn’t have much on her he only just got the footage a day or so before the whole supes vs bat thing but we are soo lucky she wasn't involved, if she uses her head she could probably wipe all of us out, we need to get here to join" Barry was giddy as he started gushing over the new mysterious metahuman who was a prime candidate for the justice league. Arthur sighed crossing his arms

"Oh really? I'm sorry but I don't see how that tiny thing could do much damage wheres her weapon?" He said unconvinced Bruce and Clark agreed somewhat looking at the photo victor had pulled up on the screen a girl who looked around sixteen sitting at a table outside a Starbucks reading a book, she looked like a typical teenager, no muscle definition to her small form, so obviously had no combat training she looked like a regular man could snap her in two, easy to over power. Victor sighed at them.

"Looks can be deceiving every thing you see in that photo is her weapon, the ground, the air, the glass in the window behind her even the chair she's sitting on she could use all of these to impale you if she wanted to ,its quite incredible watch her here look at this video." The clip was grainy showing the inside of a corner shop, she was standing by the counter blowing bubbles in her gum paying for a small bag of groceries when a man came in holding a gun screaming at the girl at the register who quickly turned around to the cash register fumbling trying to open the cash draw as he shouted pointing the gun at her making her scream and struggle even more. The teen in question moved only to be ordered to put both her hands on the counter, she did so but as soon as she did looked over her shoulder to the door blowing yet another bubble letting it pop she was very calm for a young girl who had a gun in her face she huffed took a deep breath you could see her eyes light up a little and the metal frame above the door caved in enough to hold it closed trapping them inside, neither of the others noticed to preoccupied quickly she slid a tin can into her hand and looked at the gun tilted her head to the side eyes flickering once again and the barrel caved in on itself looking like someone had pinched the end closing the hole completely making it useless, no bullets would be firing from the weapon the man when to scream confused but was struck in the temple by the can of beans dropping to the floor in a crumpled heap she kicked the gun away in case he got up. The cashier looked around crying in relief as she saw the thief had been knocked unconscious and with a quick look the metal frame quickly snapped back to its original state. She exchanged a few words with the girl who was now on the phone to the police nodding towards the security camera  the surprised she looked up you could see her curse as she looked into the lenses a grim expression eyes flashing and the video cut off, she had broke it trying to cover herself. Silence washed over the group as they came to terms with what they saw. Clark was the first to break it

"That was, different she helped tho that is a good thing she wants to do good. To protect people" Bruce spoke up next

"She didn't take chances, but that ability, what she can do its not something to take lightly, we don't know the extent of it can she do other things?" The question was directed at victor who had been scouring the cities surveillance for her.

"I've caught her a few times on cctv doing things, she practices at night around Gotham docks. And its amazing to watch, so far from what I can tell its molecular based, solids liquids and gases. I've seen her change the shape of containers, fix broken glass, she can't fly but seems she has just started to make invisible platforms to stand on and climb and when she fell she managed to make the ground sort of turn sand like to make her fall softer and she doesn't even seem to do it consciously it just sort of happens once she got up it settled like water becoming regular concrete again. Where ever she got the gift it hasn't been long, she is still trying to control them, small things are easier, like the gun and the door, but the first time she made the invisible stairs she got a nosebleed and passed out I lost her for a few weeks but when I found her again she did it again, must have practiced somewhere else as she only got a little nose bleed and didn't pass out just got dizzy" Diana sat there contemplating

"So basically this incredible power is wrapped up in a hormonal teenager  who doesn't know how to use it yet, she is still trying to figure out what she can and cant do? And no doubt soon will start testing her limits? Bruce we need to pull her in now we can't waste any time she could hurt herself or someone else" Barry nodded they all shared a look agreeing. Time to bring her in.

"Where is she?"

"She will be at the docks again tonight around nine o'clock, she has a pattern its like clock work, docks ,chemical factory and just recently started down under the main bridge towards Metropolis playing around with water". They nodded she seemed shy Clark showing up could scare her same with Diana, Barry wouldn't be a good idea he tended to fumble his words and Arthur was well Arthur. In the end it was decided Bruce would go do the talking, after all Gotham was his turf.

Well shit gonna be hard to explain this one.... you looked down sighing it was very typical tho well for you any way. You see you had a problem, or should you say gift, you could move things not just the whole abracadabra Matilda floating thing, you could move things on a molecular level..... like clay everything is clay. After practicing you now know that you can break down solids into teeny tiny grains like sand using it as sinking sand or putting it back together in a new shape and recently discovered you could pull all the teeny tiny molecules in the air together really tight it becomes an invisible force field type thingy like an instant piece of bullet proof glass, or like a platform to stand on . It was cool but difficult to control some things more then others, for instance solids where the molecules are pack tighter are easier to manipulate then water where they are all moving then air that was tricky they were fast and hard to control. And there was limitations you couldn't change anything living or growing, no plants, no animals and consequently no people. You cant heal people which you learned the hard way after cutting yourself for the sole purpose of sewing it back up nope didn't work and you wished you'd don't a shallower cut knowing it was going to leave a scar. Which sucks, but you can control the air in their lungs technically it wasn't apart of them. Loopholes, there is always a loophole. But you can fix things, like a crack phone screens burst pipes you just had to stretch things a bit or zip them up. Which brings us to this little mishap. How the fuck can you explain this, you had been trying to feel the air. You felt with your powers you liked to think of it as ripples you know like when you wave one hand under water you can feel the ripples hit the other? It was like that except you felt what the ripple hit. Kind of strange but that was the best you could come up with. So hear you was scratching your head looking at a half sunk boat, now you may be thinking boats sink all the time whats the problem?.... well normally boats sink in water not solid concrete, you had been trying to feel your ripples and pull the air below a small boat making it 'levitate' but lost your cool dropped the fucking thing panicked tried catching it and wham bam thank you ma'am boat is now half sticking out of the dock floor with a broken window. You looked up into the sky.

"Really? As if my life wasn't already a joke you gotta throw bad luck in the mix to?" You quickly closed your eyes willing the glass to reform feeling each the large pieces lift joining them selves back together slowly setting them back into the frame concentrating in 'zipping up' the seams at such a microscopic level no one would know any better. Once finished you opened your eyes, boat was still in the ground but the window was back in place. 'Yay go me' You smiled, you may not have achieved your goal of safely moving the boat but you did fix the window you broke. You sighed trying to pull the thing up again but stopped when you heard a large ominous crunching sound coming from the hull. You jumped growling pulling at you hair near your scalp.

"No no no no no this is not meant to happen just fucking move! Move up damn it!"

"Need some help?" You screamed jumping  turning around as the ground flicked up around your feet creating a small knee high spikes pointing between you and Batman?. You took a step back quickly stomping the small barrier away

"Err no no I err just out for a nice stroll haha." He hummed unconvinced looking at the boat sticking out of the ground you followed his gaze chuckling nervously scratching at your chin

".....that was like that when I got here....... I mean you see some weird shit in Gotham huh?" He looked back at you.

"I already know about your gift, you can't control it yet?" You gasped taking another step back

"Gift? What gift nope no sir-y no gifts round here."

"So I didn't just watch you drop a boat into concrete and fix the window on it?" You blinked slowly at him then heaved a heavy sigh stuffing your hand in your pockets.

"Y-you saw that? Shit I didn't mean to, I promise its just hard and i just want to stop doing things on accident....then other accidents happen a vicious cycle really" You said waving over the little accident. He nodded

"I believe you, but you were panicking, concentrate try making it sand again then harden from the bottom push up like layers like your filling in a hole go from the bottom up" you looked at him a little shocked but nodded looking at the boat feeling around beneath it with your 'ripples' making the concrete go lax hearing the hiss of it as it became loose grains before pushing up hardening thin layers from the bottom finally bringing it to the surface. You smiled happy at fixing your problem. He smirked seeing you giddy from your achievement.

"Wow thank you that helped a lot I would have been here all night before figuring that out." He nodded

"Your welcome, I'm glad I found you, we have been watching you for a while, we would like to talk to you"

"We?" You asked not really understanding

"The Justice league, you have a strong ability that we think would be useful and we wanted to see if we can help you control it we can give you training in combat weapons and hand to hand which ever you prefer." You looked at him jaw hanging open

"Your joking? You've gotta be, I just move things not really worthy of being up there with you guys,but I don't want to be used then thrown away but thanks for the help" you said turning to walk away he frowned

"We wont please you can trust us" he said reaching out quickly holding an arm dragging you back a little making you gasp and jump he then winced hissing as a thin spike quickly pierced the side of his hand that held you, you panicked.

"OH MY GOD! I'm sorry I didn't mean to! it just happens when I get scared or startled!" You quickly pushed the spike down grabbing his hand and twisting it with trembling hands hope he didn't beat the shit out of you, you'd basically just attacked him.

"Erm please stay still there are a few bits in there" you said before pulling at the little pieces of debris from the small puncture hole, when you react on instinct it doesn't end up as put together as when you actively control things hence little bits falling off and such.

"Your powers are strong I don't think your fully aware of what your capable of crushing a gun with a look is just the start, just give us a chance trust us"You let go of him hugging yourself taking a step back you felt bad you didn't mean you stood looking down waiting to see if he was angry, he seemed more sympathetic.

"Its not that I don't trust you, fuck how can I not I'm just....scared, you don't know the things I've done.....I could accidentally kill one of you then what? Be hunted down by you guys? I'm not indestructible I'm human and I haven't got control of it.... I don't even know what it is.....but its probably about time I found out I suppose I just simplify it so I don't you know....loose my nerve, bad things happen when that happens , its always frightened me... if-if I did come with you what do you guys get out of helping me? There’s always a price" he regarded you carefully he could see the fear the uncertainty in your voice it made you seem younger ,smaller lost he could tell you wanted to find somewhere to go, to find a home base and people who understood a bit like Barry in that sense he sighed smiling softly before speaking.

"Hopefully a team mate, one day someone will come and pick another fight and when they do we need to be ready, to have people we can call on to help, your strong a lot stronger then you realize this gift it-its probably made you one of the strongest metahumans on the planet,even superman was a little concerned of  encountering you that's why I'm here he chickened out." You giggled a little and he smiled relaxing, you were a good kid he could tell just scared and lost the league would be good for you give you direction.

"Really? I'm pretty sure I've got more reason to be wary of him" he smiled a little "The point is your strong and will only get stronger ,your still just learning about it we want help you, give you a safe place to learn how to control it, test your limits. Your a good kid I can see you want to help and we will give you the opportunities to do that." You nodded it did sound good, the chance to practice using this gift away from people, in a safe and controlled environment the only people around would be able to dodge and escape if things did go wrong you looked at your hands for a moment.

"...You'd really help me?"he nodded

"Not just you but we will also help protect those closest to you" you looked away

"Don’t have anyone." He stopped at that

"What? Your alone?" You shrugged nodding throwing your bag on your shoulder

"You mean family right? Don’t have one I told you bad things happen when I loose my control, I just have foster homes well had I left,better off on my own" you held his gaze you were testing him, letting him know exactly what you'd done with out saying the words guard up and waiting to see if he'd try to over power you or change his mind. He didn't know what to say to that, he could hear the others through the comms warning him to back off asking if he wanted back up, he ignored them you had killed them accidentally that much was clear. You had no one he couldn't imagine just what you had been through, but he also knew this was a test he had done it himself when he was younger, you were waiting to see if he would judge you or leave you here alone, the others wont understand that’s why they were panicking telling him to leave if he did  you'd never trust them again something none of them could risk, but it was also your way of trying to push them away. He shook his head coming closer slowing when your eyes began to glow and the floor rippled beneath his feet he raised his hands slowly the others were shouting down the line at him but you was getting defensive not readying for an attack.

"That’s why we want to help you, so nothing like that happens again I cant imagine what you've been through or what it was like but you don't have to be alone anymore or be scared" you believed him, something told you he understood pulling back from the concrete, he had plenty of time to attack you but didn't.

"And you wont be mad if I break something?" He shook his head releasing a breath he wasn't aware he was holding

"If you break something you can keep practicing until you fix it" you contemplated for a second.

"Okay then but just to see if I can fit in, don't let them make me jump.....I don't wanna shank them....you got off lightly it was aiming to go straight threw to your face... I sort of caught it a little" Bruce tensed but quickly controlled himself, the last thing you needed was to see he was slightly afraid of your gift it could feed your own fear.

"They already know, they've been watching in case they needed to help if things went bad its up to you" you gulped and nodded a little as he began walking away you hesitated looking the opposite way you could run, forget this whole meeting and leave, you sighed watching his back you had no doubt he was giving you the chance to leave you took a deep breath they could help and if it does become a con you would find a way to leave and disappear nodding you quickly jogged up behind him following him to the bat mobile he opened the back revealing two seats.

"This thing has extra seats?" He smirked down at you

"Well this one does some of the others don't." You tilted your head

"How many of them do you have?" He chuckled as you slid into the seat

"Quite a few buckle up and hold on" he said nodding the the strategically placed grab rails the shut the door a few seconds later you were moving. You shivered a little nervous you didn't think it was a bad thing to go and train somewhere more secure but one mistake and you could easily become an enemy and contrary to what they may believe you couldn't take any of them on you was still a human you still bled. You sighed leaning back a little resting your head on the seat behind you as he drove you god knows where.

[matt0044]

“Now I’ll show you furry power!”

Anyways, our episode begins properly with in media res with the Dino Fury Megazord‘s Blade Formation against one Doomsnake. It’s a story structure rarely seen these days but one that I welcome since it breaks up the usual “slice-of-life antics interrupted by monsters” routine that tends to be the norm.

Add to that, it gives us the sense that this is just yet another day in the life of the Rangers as they fight the usual Sporix after but a few episodes in. It also leads to a pretty effective introduction to the next beast. Wolfgang uses his sonic bombardment as a means to disassemble the Megazord without even going big. This allows Mucus to go off and collect Doomsnake in his dormancy.

The Rangers bail in order to assess the situation when a poorly CGI bird flutters in and reveals himself to be... Mic Kanic. Yep, the objectively best character of Ninja Steel next to Victor and Monty has graced us with his eccentricity once again with Kelson Henderson going full ham. As the only person on Earth who liked Ninja Steel, I feel validated like nobody’s business.

It seems that Mic’s been quite the busy bee during Beast Morphers as he’s been getting selfies with over forty Rangers from all over the universe. I’m guessing some of them had “new powers” so to speak but it’s a damn shame we didn’t see if Kelson Henderson did get selfies with past actors for his return.

However, Mic’s also been on the lookout for the Ninja Nexus Prism’s current whereabouts and tracking it back to Earth. I love that they’re following Beast Morphers’ lead by casually reintroducing concepts from past seasons to tie them into the here and now. It’s still self-contained enough to not need to’ve seen Ninja Steel but might give some who missed out a moment to consider it.

Seriously, I feel like that season deserves a bit more of a reevaluation.

Needless to say, Zayto is quick to dismiss the idea of a semi-sentient floating piece of pressurized rock as an ancient alien warrior who fought on dinosaurs. Then again, he’s still pretty miffed that the zords got taken apart like Legos. It doesn’t get much better when Mucus overhears their little chat about the prism.

Later at BuzzBlast, Jane is hosting a baking stream with a totally real cake that’s totally not a prop when Mic sneaks in a delivered package to use their computers. I loved that Dino Fury is getting a lot more millage out of his shapeshifting compared to Ninja Steel where they wouldn’t “forget” but never really utilize since he and Redbot were the Alphas, forging up stars in the base.

J-Borg exposes Mic before he can use their database for any Ninja Nexus Prism sightings but he shape-shifts into a ball and bounces all over the place. Three guesses at to what he knocks right into Jane. It seems she choose the wrong day to make one of Chase’s exploding cakes from New Zealand. Way too bold. He makes a clean getaway from BuzzBlast only for one Wolfgang to corner him.

The Rangers assemble in time and give Mic a chance to become a toy race car. Methinks they were using old stuff they found in the garage for filming. It turns out the Wolfgang’s sonic bombardment can neutralize the Boost Key armaments the girls use. They decide to soon retreat with Mic back to HQ fast.

While Void Knight channels his inner Lord Zedd, Mic gives a rundown on the Ninja Nexus Prism itself with a data pack filled to the brim with Power Rangers history. I’m guessing that either he compiled it from Grid Battleforce’s archives or he’s the one who helped them with Ranger history. I sort of wish they used more clips of Ninja Steel to tease new viewers of past teams and their battles.

Solon helps to locate the prism’s location on their mapping system and sends the Rangers out to confirm its location. All the while, Mic decides to plan ahead by going into the kitchen. Kelson Henderson is clearly having a blast with the character’s constant gesticulations like he’s a YouTuber doing his DIY videos. :)

The Rangers find the Ninja Nexus Prism seemingly scanning the lake for something. Zayto decides to step up and engage his Rafkonian antennae in order to probe the prism’s memories. It’s hear where we get the origins of the Ninja Steel powers... two seasons after its finale. Better late than never I guess.

I kid though. I love that we’re getting new details of a past season by way of Zayto learning that the Morphin’ Masters of old created the Ninja Nexus Prism. In fact, they forged the Energems of Dino Charge as well as the Dino Gems from Dino Thunder from the visuals given. Now that’s good diagetic fanservice.

We even get brief clips of Ninja Steel’s Levi getting his Power Star followed up by Beast Morpher’s Steel in his final moments trying to stop Evox. I guess this means that the Masters brought him back to life as human when the Morph-X returned to the Grid. Previous plot contrivance now solved or more convoluted?

You make the call!

Boomtower and Wolfgang crash the party only for the Prism to NOPE right into the water. The Rangers find themselves pinned under barrels and boxes while Wolfgang’s sonic attack threatens to bring down the cliff on them. Thankfully, Mic’s Ninja Power Star throw hasn’t gotten rusty as he arrives and throws a treat into the mouth, making their foe sound like Eddy after Rolf’s pimple cure.

With no other option, Wolfgang grows before Boomtower taps into his residual Sporix power-up to gain a few inches himself. The Rangers pull out their Megazord’s Warrior Formation where all of their Zords combine. We even get a cool finisher that finishes off Boomtower where holograms of the other formations get a hit in. Are we sure that Judd Lynn isn’t still on the writing team?

Bye-Bye, Boomer. Hope you get rebuilt as another Ryusoulger villain soon.

While Mucus catches Boomtower’s Sporix, the Rangers manage to finish off Wolfgang with a weird edit of what was obviously an impalement. That Sporix Izzy catches by cutting off Mucus. Void Knight is temperamental over such a mixed bag of a day until he goes into his secret chamber and reveals to us his long lost love stuck in stasis. It’s clear that the Sporix’re all meant to revive her.

Hang on a second.

A villain with a violet color scheme utilizing a hero’s power and initially working alone in seeking out a specific source of power that can revive his love. Why’s it that I feel that Keith Silverstein would be voicing this guy if production still outsourced voice over to Los Angeles? Hell, I would be shocked if the Gold Ranger was his secret son and loved cheese a lot. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

Back at the base, the Rangers fill in for the Jays by ending the episode with some of Mic’s initial prototypes for his No Howl Treats. Either that or the ADR director forgot everybody’s recordings and had to resort to random noise in their sound library. Solon fixes it by bursting everybody’s eardrums. As you do.

Sadly, Mr. Kanic has Prisms to pursue and catches his Space Taxi back to the Lion Galaxy where he might open a steakhouse. I really hope they can adapt next Kyuranger if only to see the team stop by for a meal. Then again, Hasbro needs to sort out their Super Sentai problem before things get a little bit uglier.

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 35

Just one moment of silence and your head poked out with smile spreading after. Leaned forward Norma took advantage of Victor’s lingering stare to steal a kiss. Shifting your hand James smirked watching from a cloud of shimmering starry mist Victor’s camera popped out of nowhere to plop into your palm from its place on the counter surely you meant to levitate it from. Curiously he came closer to see what you were capturing and post click smiled with a tug at your middle bringing you out of the doorway so Victor wouldn’t see you should he turn his head.

Dinner was finished and at the call from Dawn the lovebirds still barely blushing to join the others at the table. Eddie had snuck in and poured through the gifts admiring Dawn’s choices as well as what he heard of yours and came to join in on the gossip in the kitchen while feeding Teddy.

Dinner and relaxing through drinks and dessert afterwards had Miss Norma Jeane melting more into your group and subtly leaning against Victor’s side until a yawn had Eddie lending his keys to drive her back to her hotel. To keep from watching the drive for Victor’s return Eddie helped Dawn up to get some cuddling in before bed once Teddy was asleep again content in his bed. And James into his arms lifted you excited to get a peek into what dress you had chosen. Jaw fully dropped he eyed the deep green marvel of a gown paired with satin gloves to match you held up for him.

“Now that is stunning.” He hummed moving closer to help you turn it around. “Even has a small hint of a bustle.”

“Didn’t know what to pick, but I saw it and thought you might like it.”

Moving closer his hand cupped your cheek and sweetly he kissed you, lingering in the action and tap of foreheads afterwards. “I would have loved anything you picked, do you like it?”

“One of the nicest ones they had to offer. The only green, its more comfortable, not sure about the fur, seems so extravagant-,”

“The fur is perfect, if we had our ways we’d have made you dozens of furs by now. Quality fur like that can last decades when taken care of. Nowhere near a frivolous purchase. Miss Norma get along all day?”

“Seemed so excited to go shopping. I don’t think she’s wasted a cent the company is apparently going to back for her to build up her image.”

James, “Even if they don’t Vic would gladly jump in to foot the bill. I think he might be surprised at that picture you stole. I don’t think she had it easy growing up.”

“No, said she worked in the factories at 16 building plane parts in the war. I don’t think they just let any kids in for that.”

James shook his head, “Nope, most likely a ward of the state. But she’ll be mingled in the family soon enough. Especially if she keeps kissing Vic like that,” claiming another kiss he stepped back taking hold of your gown to hang it up. Returning to blend into the usual pattern of helping you undress then carrying you to bed to hold one another until morning. Peppered kisses and hushed giggles between comments came out in the aftermath of Vic’s humming self making his way up to bed when he finally made it back home again.

..

Morning with the Brocks’ visit followed with Momma Brock claiming another night watching her grandson while tuxes were fixed into place. Savoring each moment James’ lips peppered across your skin securing the laces on the back of your corset from England. The hooks were secured by you and in panties, stockings and your garter belt you held the corset up over your hoisted bust keeping it in place while his fingers knowingly and lovingly ensured each chord sat comfortably in place assuring you would be able to eat your fill and sit comfortably. An elegant bow at the base of your spine was tied and giggling again a stolen glance back nabbed you a peck on his nose luring a playful chuckle from him in return. “Do hope corsets don’t go too out of fashion for your sake.”

Lowly he chuckled, “There will always be those who love corsets. And always gowns for special events requiring some support. Perhaps not whale bone like this one, may change to metal over time.”

“Great, more metal to snap and stab me.”

Again he kissed your cheek turning to fetch the gown he unzipped and lowered for you to step into. Carefully he lifted the gown you took hold of once it covered your bust allowing him to ease up the zipper sealing it into place, ensuring with a smooth of his hands over your sides and the skirt that any wrinkles or folds would be gone.  Lastly buckling the straps on the new heels into place to finish off the look before he led you to the vanity where he fashioned a chic ponytail used to hold back your curls refusing to take to a bun. “I swear my hair gets more like live snakes every day,”

James chuckled saying, “I love these curls, even if they do turn into snakes one day. Twenty feet long I’ll take the battle of finding how these curls wish to be displayed each day.”

That made you giggle, “I am not growing my hair to twenty feet long.”

Chuckling again with the final pin in place around your turned under ponytail his arms looped around your middle to plant his lips on your cheek sweetly. “You fix my hair I fix yours, that’s the deal.”

The doorbell sounded and again shameless as ever Victor hurried to go and fetch his date here early making James’ chuckling self lead you to the mirror in your move to fix his bowtie and jacket. All for you to add the finishing touches to your makeup with your gloves he slung over his shoulder and cuddled close until he could help you with the gloves and guide you down with your new fur and clutch in the free arm not draped around you. With a wide smile Norma Jeane stood letting out a giggling squeak when you came down the stairs. Clutching her coat to her in a pleased twirl showing off her full look making you giggle and say, “Don’t you look stunning, put us all to shame.”

Dawn was next to come down, smiling in joining the compliments offered while you waited for the driver to arrive for you. Subtly Norma had eased up to Vic’s side resting a hand on his arm or even side once his hand timidly settled on her back. Though their snuggling was only encouraged inside the car for the drive to the distant lit up hall to which you were headed. Crowds and seas of flashes coming in waves were your welcome and through the carpet lined with those you did not recognize who seemed to know you. More of a convention of sorts you felt a bit out of place hearing echoes of the conversation around you on speeches and topics being covered.

Smiles dimmed in passing through to the dining hall, following the aid that led you to your assigned table. Straight to the table of honor across from Generals and even a puzzling two bourbons in Mr Stark sat a familiar face recognized out of papers and magazines, Albert Einstein seated and chatting with one of the Generals until you all arrived to take up the seats marked by folded name plates. Around the back of your chairs each fur was settled with clutches left on laps. Two tables over the table of Presidents, Kings and world leaders from allied nations gathered to hear these talks stole glances your way with King George and Truman returning the subtle head nods your group sent their way.

Stark right away from your inspection of the table setting drew your gaze, “Ah, Miss Bunny, read about you. Odd to see a show pony here.”

Forcing a grin you said, “I could say the same to you, last I heard that dud of a flying car could use some of the attention you give that glass, unless that’s why you took to the drink.”

James’ hand nearly tightened on his lap only for him to watch Stark’s glass to lower before he could finish off his glass with eyes intent on you, “And just what might you know about my flying car?”

“According to my brother Steve and his friend Bucky who saw it at your last Expo at the World Fair it got up about six inches then dropped like a rock.”

Pointing at Eddie he said, “Now I don’t care what people say-,”

His eyes shifted to the General beside him who nudged his arm, “That’s Eddie,”

Stark’s brows furrowed looking to the General, “Who’s Eddie? Don’t change the subject!”

He looked to Eddie again only to hear you say, “Steve died, this is my brother Eddie and his wife Dawn, and don’t call me a show pony, if anything I’m a black sheep at best by my size.” That had Victor chortling to himself and Einstein chuckle through a reach for his glass shifting ever so slightly on his seat to your left.

Stark, “My point being, you have no clue how difficult it was to even get those six inches off the ground.”

“Especially if you have to play show pony to the press after bragging about it.”

The waiter came over asking for drink choices and for you James ordered a screwdriver and a whiskey for himself. Stark eyed you curious about the drink choice then said, “And how would you do it, oh Queen of the magnets?”

Smirking at him your head tilted slightly and you replied, “Now, now, that would be cheating. Eyes on your own paper, Mr Stark.”

That had him scoffing, “You think I’d need your help?! Oh I beg to differ little Miss!”

Eddie chuckled saying to the Generals shaking their heads, “I think you might regret those words later on.”

The General closest to him, General Eisenhower said, “Corporal Pear tore planes out of the sky, you really think she can’t get a car up in the sky by just reversing the science?”

Einstein lifted his glass, “And without your budget or supplies too. A much more impressive feat in my opinion.”

Stark said, “Oh like it’s hard to get planes out of the sky in wartime.” Finishing off his drink he shook the glass in the air in a silent demand for a refill.

Victor nodded, “And the tanks being torn in half? That so easy too?”

Stark looked wide eyed a moment from him to you catching you grin spreading in a quick pop only making him look you over again, “Oh that’s fine, shoddy things tanks, no doubt coincidence. Army should have never relied on those pitiful things a sneeze could shred.”

Stark, “Sarcasm, very lady like,” he muttered.

Smirking back at him you replied, “By the state of your shirt and jacket I’d say you’re not taken to kindly by the lady in your life,” causing his head to tilt a tick, “I grew up in Brooklyn Mr Stark, you’ll have to hit harder than that to dent my pride. While yours is wide open thanks to that bottle you keep hiding in.”

He plopped his glass down watching you smiling accepting your cocktail from the waiter who nodded his head in return for your soft thanks, Stark said, “Alright, you down that drink of yours and we’ll see who’s the one with an even kilter.”

“Oh yes, because this one little drink surely would have my guy carrying me home over his shoulder. Not patronizing at all, Mr Stark.”

“Patronizing-,” he scoffed out and crossed his arms over his chest, “Why don’t you go ahead and tell me your experience in Mechanical Engineering, or basic knowledge of anything to do with constructing a vehicle or flying craft, Miss Pear? That’s right, you’re still just a few weeks into your schooling, why don’t you leave the talking to the big boys.”

“Now if I did that you might never get the answer to the big question tickling the back of your mind.”

Stark chortled, “And just what question might that be?”

“What could a magnet really do?” Narrowing his eyes through the first sip you claimed of your drink.

James smirked behind his own glass looking to the opening speaker who began the night, Stark remained fixed on your reactions to each speaker after between courses of the seven course meal with each plate slightly less filling than the last. The third course at least however was passed over to Eddie on your right as it was stuffed mushrooms swapped subtly by you and him in a faked arm gesture to James who snuck his supply onto your plate as well in the move knowing your childhood allergy to them. Even though it hadn’t carried on the avoidance lingered and from the table with the Kings Queen Mother Elizabeth took notice of your aversion to that course and the shrimp course afterwards much like she noticed at the dinner held at the Palace you had attended piquing her curiosity.

Einstein however broke the silence between courses having passed his own to the late arriving Winston Churchill from a phone call smirking to you in sharing, “Never fond of shrimp myself, Miss Pear.”

“Mother never trusted much past bass offered up in fish markets.”

Stark said popping another between his lips, “Not even going to try it? Not very adventurous of you.”

“I’ve been picking up Italian food recently since back in Brooklyn, baby steps I suppose. Between stops to China Town of course.”

Victor hummed out, “Those spices can be addictive.”

Churchill stated, “I myself do stick to a sturdy diet comprised of family favorites, like Miss Pear. One must stick to maintaining our heritage when left to our own means for some comfort. I do enjoy a good chocolate tart from my mother’s family recipe book on holidays when the link is quite strained.”

Stark eyed Norma in her puzzled look at the rest of her shrimp she offered to Victor who traded his empty plate at her mumble of the odd sauce for it tasting bad with her drink choice. To a flurry of argumentative grumbles to the latest speaker the waiters came again taking the empty plates with them for another wave of waiters to return with another course. This time causing Dawn to giggle at the sigh shared by you and Eddie seeing the odd seven brussels sprouts circled with sauces around what seemed to be a cup of linguini turned over still shaped like the cup drizzled with melting grated cheese and green herbs. At least this course seemed to be something close to filling compared to the insignificant servings in the prior courses.

Nice and steady between mental comments shared with your group and hushed verbal ones to include Norma, who seemed fixated on learning more about Victor entirely ignoring the rest of the table as if this was their date alone easing any worries at your being seated so far away from the young woman you were meant to be befriending. Steamed veggies were next to go with some steak strips on Nan bread cut into triangles with droplets of sauce on top of and between each you ate as casually as you could at the odd mixture of textures and flavors using both your hands for the triangles and utensils for the veggies. Across from you the Generals ignored all but their food until they were freed to listen to the next speaker as Stark kept working up his mental dissection of your near silent group.

Raw peppers and dips came next with fruit and cheese to follow bringing on your second drink yet to shift any portion of dedication to hold the façade other women tried to meet of dining etiquette. Chocolate gelato came as the finale that you savored to the last drop finished alongside the end of your second cocktail. Shots of Sambuca came as a means to help with digestion. Though to the shock of Stark the remaining buttered rolls left warm and tucked in their basket were divided even among the ladies of your group still hungry. To be broken in pieces to nibble on while listening to the speaker finishing off his speech with what you took as the fifth mention of magnets yet to be delved into as preposterous subjects to study into. Best left to holding up art on fridges was the smirk inducing comment about making you giggle in hearing while the speaker cast a glance your way.

Now the food was gone shouts seemed to distract from the speeches for a blur of an hour until an aid arrived crouching down to say, “Your table has been invited to the smoking lounge with President Truman and King George.”

Churchill grinned your way, “Yes, now is the time for some true discussion unlike that fodder with shouting through puff pieces flooded with insults and claims of treaties long since violated by other nations.”

James, “Fridge art science was a nice comment,” Earning an agreeing grin from you.

Eddie chuckled as Dawn said, “Hope he’s in the lounge be nice to see him face a debate.”

.

After all that was what this was, an all out debate in tries to shut your intelligence down. The female dates below sat in the lower lounge area with Victor remaining beside Norma on a love seat while on the upper level leaning on the arm of the chairs you and James were in to press your arm against his. Feeling his smirk between puffs on the cigar he had been offered amused thoroughly as the men tried and failed to break through to reveal any ignorance you might have towards your supposed mastering of the field of magnets you had read up all available book from the public library to prep for this outcome.

Smirking now puffing on his own cigar Stark relaxed enjoying the show catching a glimpse now on why you had been taken so seriously by your fellow soldiers you spent years protecting while his questions still lingered unasked by others, what did you do with magnets to earn your medals and place here.

Through the door to the accusation, “Why can’t you just admit this is all a ruse to have some dame for women to aspire to be like silencing arguments of stepping aside again for our men to return,” seemed to signal King George beside President Truman to appear.

The latter who said, “Perhaps then we should give them an idea of what Miss Pear is capable of whipping up in a battlefield.”  Making the man flinch at his unexpected answer from the assumed absent superior. Truman’s hand motioned to the side after you and the brothers had nodded your heads to the entering King who gestured to remain seated in coming closer. “This is John Huston, a Director who took up part of a project for Former President Roosevelt to film the war efforts. He’s brought a reel from D-Day that will give you all an idea of just what magnets can do.”

Hushedly Eddie had Dawn close her eyes while Norma turned her head smiling in her focus on Victor uncertain of why Eddie held his wife to his side ensuring she wouldn’t look through the lights cutting off to a now visible loaded projector was cut on to play on the wall. Two blips of the reel passing the marking frames and planes came into view on a grey sky while your hand was engulfed by James’ in the drop of your formerly locked expression. The change of your face had Stark turn his head curiously to know why. Down the camera angled and Truman walked up to the wall by the footage across from Director Huston while King George settled into the bare seat beside yours. Boats broke through waves and bobbed their way to shore where the guns from hills above had James puff out a blob of smoke hoping that you wouldn’t have nightmares from this footage.

Truman, “And here comes their division,” to the sight of more soldiers dying on the beach filling with more and more bodies, some being swept back to sea for not being able to get past a few steps from their boats.

All at once the metal gates dropped, along with jaws from the men who hadn’t seen it, of the guns being torn from the hills then fired back into the soldiers inside those bunkers freeing hundreds to scour the beaches causing a group to stand up wide eyed in their disbelief. A point to the raised hand in your platoon now joined by the brothers’ and the rest of the disbelievers stood at the German planes crushed into balls colliding with others while your troops shrank up the hills with tanks crumpling up to fire at others causing the explosions viewed in clouds of dirt and smoke. Inhaling sharply your eyes shifted to Truman as he grinned your way, “Much more than a few refrigerator magnets gentlemen.”

The King beside you watched your smile flinch back to Einstein asking, “How did you conceal such a weapon? Force like that, I would have imagined a cannon.”

“Bigger is not always better. The human body is comprised of various metals, you have to be careful what you set off around them concerning magnets or there could be casualties on both sides.”

King George stated post clearing of his throat, “The presentation of this footage was quite astonishing, I must admit, though upon your person no record of any weapon was found in your bags once you were delivered to your hotel in London.”

“Because I would never bring a weapon back with me once peacetime was called.”

King George nodded, “And just where, was the weapon disposed of?”

James, “Off the side of the ship on the way back to England. We all took turns dumping parts.”

King George asked, “And the blueprints?”

You shook your head, “Never had any.”

Churchill, “I read an article in which stated you have a photographic memory, if someone were to, persuade you,”

“I am not in the business of dealing arms.” You stole a glance at Stark, “I’ll leave that to the Big Boys.” To the anxiously inhaling King you added, “I was scared, all my training up to that point was to be a nurse. I couldn’t be an imposition to the men so I found a way to protect them too. I don’t love the notion that children will have never seen their fathers or parents their sons again because of me, but war is never kind to begin with.”

Stark, “I can’t believe you wouldn’t have a price.”

Your eyes met his to say, “I can’t imagine you could fathom my life or notions of just societies when you seem too adept at skewing morality to fit your whims.” He scoffed again and you added, “Or should I mention that perfume on your clothes a few hundred too cheap to belong to the debutant you married with a twin to that ring I’ve seen you take off and pocket twice in flirting with other women?” Dropping his smirk again, “Unlike you I do not revel in dishing out cruelty or malice. Men have been quite skilled in adapting weapons throughout the generations without requiring my help. I have no price.”

Stark, “I enjoy women, and a stiff drink, I don’t care what you say I can’t imagine if someone tomorrow promised you a cool five million for that weapon you wouldn’t take it!”

“A few weeks after that invasion, we were on our way through Paris, and I met a cousin and an aunt I’d never met before, on my father’s side.”

Stark shook his head, “Your point being?” Lifting his glass.

“They had escaped from Auschwitz.” Visibly his body locked in his seat and his face dropped, “Apparently my father’s family was originally from Poland. We saw those freed prisoners from the two camps we were sent to clear. I have seen what men with a price have done, anyone who says they have one should see what we have and perhaps they might understand who ends up paying that toll to line the pockets of others.”

King George said, “And none of your actions so far have hinted otherwise.”

Truman, “Merely there has been some debate of upping warfare since development of the atom bombs.”

You looked to him saying, “For all the respect I have for your position and role in ending the war, for the record I do disagree with what occurred in Hiroshima.” Earning a nod from him, “If you’re looking for some sort of promise I won’t build another magnetic weapon you have it. Unlike the ruthless indiscriminate weapons of former wars mine won’t be on that list to be used again.”

Einstein, “Well said, which is exactly what my main goal is, to ensure Hiroshima does not occur again!”

Truman nodded, “Yes, why our allies are here, to hear talks of many impressions on a new sort of pact against arms countries might use in the future, and while magnets might not be on that list your impressions of the effects of such weapons are highly required to balance the weight of refusing to join such a pact.”

While the conversation bled on around you King George leaned in to lowly ask you, “How are your cousin and aunt doing? We have received a few reports that he is doing well in school.”

“They are doing well, Erik looks forward to classes and loves studying. His mother is still adjusting, has a lovely job and a house for them. And thank you, for understanding with the adoption and citizenship issue. We never meant to draw attention to force something like that.”

“Oh I perfectly understand fear. You have been nothing but honorable in your actions and upon notification of our discovery nothing but candid on the root of each decision. Besides, best to claim you first before the big day added you to that lot of paperwork of citizenship interviews. Could only add to the hassle, besides quite justly gives us full rights to broadcast the big day.”

James’ head turned at the finger underneath his hand tightening in a subtle reaction making him ask, “Broadcast?”

“Not exactly live, due to the mountain ranges we would have to film then broadcast the reel of the ceremony to go with the photographer for our own Royal Ceremonies.” Your brow ticked up and he smirked at James saying, “After all for the younger of two Howlett Brothers born in 1808 you’re as close to nobility we have left in Canada.”

James lowly asked, “What?”

King George chuckled saying, “We have footage of our own, one including Venom tearing free, though for the life of me I can’t imagine why in the comics you have ears and a tail.”

“It, was an idea from the guys who decided to make the comics in their spare journals. You, know-,”

King George nodded, “Oh yes, you are not the only ones we have taken notice of over time. All the way back to Queen Victoria who began the Crown Records, almost all served admirably when called, saving others. No one will be sharing this news, and we are all the more honored to be able to protect you from even those in the States, who are a bit behind the cart on this so far.” A smirk ghosted across his lips and he said, “None of us can wait for Spring to come along, the pictures of the barn the reception will be in is quite unusual for our average invitation, though none the less lovely a choice. Views alone through the glass wall is perfect for some of the wedding photos to be taken. Whole edition of a magazine will cover every detail. Cover to cover.”

Truly it didn’t take long for an argument to be taken to another of the lounges leaving you alone with Truman, his wife and daughter with the freshly arrived Queen to join your family in sharing the latest of your lives. A good chunk of which was covering the whole Farley debacle with Congressman Farley who was confirmed to be going on trial soon for his threats after which Einstein returned shaking his head and muttering in German moving to sit beside you luring up your aspirations for possible degrees. Widely he grinned hearing all your broad dreams yet to be filled out he respected greatly and said, “Well I am just teaching down in Princeton, should you ever require a sane person to share thoughts with we can trade information. I am in New York quite often.”

“That would be fantastic. It’s a bit hard to think up how I might outline my education plans when there are votes required to get me to graduate courses in Columbia.”

Einstein, “Should they doubt you come to Princeton, I shall vouch for you if need be. We would be glad to have you.”

.

“So he knows,” James rumbled repeating what Victor had just said in their mental conversation.

Only for Dawn to interrupt their stalemate, “They’re filming it now?!”

“Oh yes, now if I fall on my face everyone gets to see it prime time.”

James, “You will not fall,”

Eddie nodded patting your knee, “Right, we won’t let you.”

Norma said, “I thought Stark was meant to be nice, he is always so nice on his ads.”

James, “Might have something to do with the seven shots he downed since we got to the table.”

Victor rumbled, “Doubt he’d sell half as many tickets to his expos if he wasn’t.”

James at your shift of the fur wrap more across your chest shifted closer pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “He’ll learn. Doubt this will be an often occurrence.”

Dawn, “Especially if the pact thing works out.”

Norma giggled tapping her fingers down Victor’s inner arm that was draped around her back, “This was fun, even if the food was a bit strange. And you had fun beating those guys in that debate.”

“Not much of a debate.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” she replied, “I mean, you have such class, and brains to boot.”

Smirking at her you said, “You can learn class. If you’re up to reading on various subjects you can learn a great deal some assume only the elites know. How the Courtesans in the past were so successful, educated themselves to appeal to the minds then the bodies of the Nobles who they marketed themselves to.”

She smirked at you, “Really?”

Dawn nodded, “They were one of the few groups of women allowed into libraries, which were kept by monks who looked after them on Noblemen’ lands. Knowledge of the written word was for the wealthy man of stature, besides, it’s not class, they’re facts. Learn enough and they won’t know the difference Jaqi takes etiquette classes and courses on Art History but she’s been going to museums for years now, knows the tours by heart and has read through a third at least of the Public Library. All facts, and they can’t argue she doesn’t fit in on grounds of ignorance.”

Looking to Norma you said, “If you like I can lend you some of my etiquette or art books, and even show you to the library for some of the best books to give you a clue to what they were saying. Even help you catch up on some classic books for your acting classes for reference if you like.”

“Oh that would be just splendid,” she said smiling at you. “I don’t think I’ve met this many people out to help me on their own before.”

Victor hummed, “Anything you want to learn just let us know.”

Eddie, “None of us had easy ways up to where we are, we gotta stick together through this crazy world.” Widening her smile again in her glance to the window in what you took as a sign she was trying not to cry earning her a peck on the forehead from Victor she cuddled closer to grateful for the gesture.

.

Gridlock out towards Norma’s hotel came with an offer to lend a guest bedroom, of which she had her pick, spare set of pj’s and dress for the following day and post calming cup of cocoa up to bed you went to rest up for class the next day. Face washed and grinning to James’ sweet kisses and tender help in changing out of your fancy layers to bed you went tangling in his arms sharing a hope no bad dreams would come. Though what did was Whiskers and both Olive and Pepper to spread across your bed waking James. Chuckle restrained, hearing his brother on the floor above him. Clearly with their young guest who was guiding him to the bed dropping layers along the way in a refusal to wait, James shut his eyes easing his arms more across your back glad to have you across his chest slipping back to sleep at the furry head taking up his free shoulder beginning to snore contently.

Pt 36

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea ​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shes-a-killer-kween, @ggbbhehe4455, @xxbyimm (Hobbit x oc)

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess​, @changlingkhat​

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 22- Dueling a Dragon

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU and Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

While the heist team discovers the identity of the dark mage, Mumbo is facing his greatest challenge yet. Fighting a dragon before all of the kingdom. Will he claim victory, or be burnt alive?

CW: battle scene ____________________________________________

“I don’t know how you’ve done it Mumbo, but I believe you can take it all the way!” Joe’s voice is toned in such a way that Mumbo can’t tell if he’s being sincere or teasing him. He’s going to go with the former, only because he’s not sure he could take the latter. 

“Ah, thanks Joe. It’s been a real doozy.” He wipes the sweat from his brow, trying to regain some energy back in his body as he stares across the field. Staring down his opponent. The one person Iskall said he wouldn’t have to worry about. Avon, the other finalist in the duel tournament. “I’m not quite sure if I can take her on, of all people, though. I mean...she took out Grian!” 

“Just barely, and only because of that trident she’s got.” Grian huffs, tucking his arms against his chest. “No matter what happens, Mumbo Jumbolio, we’ve secured our place in the labyrinth event. One way or another, we’re one of the two best guilds in the Chimaera’s championship. In all of Lairyon!” 

Mumbo nods his head, gathering his nerves and shoving them into a little box. He beat the best duelist from the Guild of Gedeon, he can beat one lone wanderer. The points the hermits have gathered throughout the games have held them at a steady first place. But he wants to win this event for them all. To prove to himself that he does have control over his magic. To prove to his father he doesn’t need him- he has a better family. And because he has a taste for competition. A taste that can only be satiated with winning. 

It’s just Mumbo and Avon. The winner takes the glory, a champion of the most popular event in all of Lairyon. Mumbo glances at the stands, the coliseum packed to the brim. Scrying spells are everywhere, and even a few cameras from the industrial cities. Everyone is watching him. It’s terrifying, but also thrilling. This is his time, in front of all of Lairyon. As long as he keeps control of his magic, and doesn’t pass out from his swimming head, he can win the most popular event in all of the Chimaera’s Championship. 

“Go get ‘em, dude. Show them how much of a mega wizard of doom you are.” Iskall grins, patting Mumbo on the back and sending him into the torchlight that illuminates the field. Massive orbs of light, blinding to look at and controlled by a single light mage, chase off shadows from the field and illuminate the two competitors. Avon struts across, until the two are toe to toe at the center. Mumbo realizes the dragonheart is almost a full head shorter than him, though her wings rise above the lion’s mane for hair. The daring gaze she gives makes him feel like the shorter one, however. Like the ground is sinking at his feet. 

“Duelists!” Their eye contact severs at the voice of Magistrate Dolios serenades the crowd into silence. Out of the corner of Mumbo’s eyes, he swears he can see sharp teeth appear from a curling scowl on Avon’s face. Dolios stands from his seat, sweeping his hands to both Avon and Mumbo. ‘I congratulate you both on your strength and magic to make it this far. You are both the pride of what Lairyon has to offer, and even I am astounded at the show of power I’ve seen from all competitors in these games. This will be a championship for the history books, and I can’t thank you two and your groups enough for braving to come here as non-guild teams.

“Unfortunately, only one person can be crowned victor of the duels. As much as I would love to see you both take home the medal. However, Avon- you know that no matter what, your team won’t make it into the Labyrinth run?” Mumbo looks over, just barely catching the tiny nod. More a bounce of her hair than a move of her head. “And you still wish to compete, despite being in third place no matter the outcome of this event?” Another short nod, and Dolios smiles. “A brave soul, I was hoping for some more fight left. Let the final duel begin...now!” 

Mumbo scrabbles backwards, avoiding the sharp prongs of Avon’s trident by a narrow width of air. He trips over his own two feet in the retreat, rolling over the grass and landing with his gaze glued on the crown box. Magistrate Dolios has seated himself again, watching with a glint in his eyes. Completely relaxed, unlike the crowd all around him. Even his fellow councilmembers are bellowing, though two are missing. He yelps, a ball of flame singing the verdant grass beside him. In his own mind, he can’t help but note how much it looks like the blight he saw in Gildara. 

Up on his feet, Mumbo takes a deep breath and faces his opponent. Avon, the very person Iskall said he wouldn’t have to worry about. Of course, his luck leads him to fight a draconic mage. She looks different- her wings have disappeared. Mumbo raises an eyebrow. Didn’t she always have- 

A poison barb rips against the black fabric of his robes. If he was a centimeter to the left, it would’ve dug into his leg. He doesn’t have the privilege to think- not against an opponent like this. But that’s what Mumbo does best! He leers to the side, casting his circle. His head swims, and the spell dissolves away. 

“Not now!” Mumbo whimpers, fleeing the barrage of attacks from his opponent. Can’t she give him one minute? One minute to concentrate, to focus on his magic? He’s doomed, he can’t do this. His magic is too unpredictable, like catching smoke in his hands. One minute it’s there, the next it’s gone. He tries to focus, to follow the guidance Grian taught him when they’d train. But his best friend’s advice is doing nothing to aid him. What he wouldn’t give to have Grian and the other hermits at his side right now. 

“You can do it Mumbo!” He leaps away from another throw of the trident, backed into a corner, but looks up at the sound of Grian’s voice. Cheering him from the sidelines, waving and whooping with wings spread wide. Iskall is at his side, getting rowdy as his voice carries with Grian. Every last hermit is there, cheering for him. Even Doc, Etho, and the rest of the heist team. What did they find? Zedaph, Tango, and Impulse are waving something he can’t catch, the shepherd mage on both Tango and Impulse’s shoulder. Right now, they aren’t focused on the heist, or who the dark wizard is. The entire guild of hermits is cheering him on. Him, some screwup multi-mage who can’t control his powers. Not like how Magistrate Dolios can control his multitude of magics. 

“Go Mumbo! Just cast the spell, don’t think! Just cast!” Xisuma shouts, his mask doing little to stop his encouraging voice from carrying to Mumbo. The draconic mage makes her steady approach, flourishing her trident. Mumbo closes his eyes, and does the one thing he’s never done before. 

Not think. When Mumbo opens his eyes, he can feel power rushing down his arms, lightning crackling against his sleeves and a burnmark where Avon once stood. She’s retreated, eyes wide but a smile cracking through the empty expression. “Finally, a challenge.” 

Mumbo steps forward, summoning another magic circle. At first, the circuits and lotuses wobble in the air, his magic unsure. But Mumbo can hear his friends calling his name. The crowd cheering for him. And the spell strengthens so bright he can hardly see past the arcane circle. He releases his magic, and unchains the beast within. He knew his magic was powerful. It was hard to summon for that reason, like trying to call on a storm. But once the storm appeared, on it’s own or by will, there was little he could do to stop it. 

Redstone slithers across the ground, wrapping around Avon’s ankles like vines. Hungry for warmth, for life. Dragging her down against the ground, Mumbo’s magic traps his opponent. In the light of the coliseum, black scales appear on Avon’s open skin, steeling herself to the attack. The redstone constricts, and Mumbo prepares to send a bolt of lightning down the redstone circuit. But Avon’s lips open, and fire escapes from her mouth and nostrils, like a firebreathing dragon. It burns away the redstone circuits, freeing the dragonheart. 

It becomes a battle, back and forth between the two. A poison barb traded for lightning, fire traded for redstone. Mumbo fends off attacks from the sky, from the ground. They both share a similar form of magic- lightning. Avon releases a bolt, only for her purple lightning to be met by Mumbo’s red bolt. The two wrestle for strength, but Mumbo wins out. The energy strikes Avon, throwing her across the field. Unfortunately for Mumbo, nothing can seem to keep his opponent down for long. No matter how hard he strikes, how fast he strikes, Avon doesn’t remain on the ground. She just stands up, brushing away the blood and mud, and retaliates. 

Exhaustion grows in Mumbo’s body, threatening to keep him down when a fireball burns the fraying fabric of a torn sleeve. He can hear the hermits, the crowd cheering for him. He’s not going down, he’s not losing. He wants to win. Avon rushes forward, her trident reeled backward. Mumbo’s just barely able to stop her, twisting redstone around and pulling it taut. They’re trapped in a stalemate, feeling each other huffing for air. Mumbo can see blood dripping from a wound on her forehead, her cheek. A swollen eye and torn lip, the black scaled pauldron dented from battle and her clothes torn and bloody. Purple fabric of her cloak brushes against Mumbo’s leg, causing a poisoned wound to sting. 

He’s not in much better shape, but he refuses to go down. “You’re really not going to let up, are you?” 

“Nope.” She offers a smile, then rips her trident away. Mumbo stumbles backwards, catching his weight and nearly crumbling on a wounded ankle. Avon is struggling to her feet too, wings reappearing and scales disappearing to gain dexterity back. Now’s the time, if ever he had a chance. Her wings seem to be the biggest targets. If he takes those out, maybe she’ll stay down. 

Mumbo raises his hand to start drawing his circle, and flicks his wrist in an attempt to get rid of mud that clings to the blood on his fingers. Just like that, his circle activates. Holy shit, did he actually summon his magic without having to go through the motions of drawing it? He’s never done that before, but he’s not going to waste the chance he has now. Mumbo strikes the center of his circle, and a storm of lightning and redstone rains down on Avon. Lightning strikes her down, throwing her back against the ground. The redstone clings to the dragonheart, capturing the electricity and sending the currents running back through his opponent. 

She stays down. The entire coliseum goes quiet as the dead, watching Avon struggle to get to her feet. Magistrate Dolios and the Council stand, opening their mouths. They’re about to call the match. Bruised, bloody, and broken, there’s no way Avon can get back from a spell that powerful. Mumbo must’ve won. 

A single syllable escapes Dolios’s lips when Avon rises to her knees. Steeling herself to the pain, gritting her teeth against the lightning still ricocheting down her form. Rising to her feet, leaning against her trident for stability. Her eyes remain closed, wincing against the pain. Dolios calls down. “Do you surrender, wanderer?” 

Her eyes snap open. Gone are the purple irises, calm and collected. All Mumbo can see is rage in elongated pupils, thin and sharp as a snake’s. Scales ripple across her skin, wings growing larger and spines appearing from the crown of blonde. When she opens her mouth, a snarl escapes through sharp, daggerlike teeth. “A dragon never yields.” 

Suddenly, Mumbo isn’t facing a draconic mage. The wanderer before him transforms, growing in size as more ebony scales appear across skin and fabric. Mumbo stumbles backwards, wincing and bracing against the pain as his rear bruises on the dirt below him. When he opens his eyes, he only sees scales and teeth. 

A dragon is before him, purple eyes set between purple horns, islands of color against black armor. The only way Mumbo knows for sure that’s Avon is the tufts of blonde hair at the crown of the dragon. He’s awoken the dragon’s wrath. 

Mumbo yelps, leaping away before purple fire engulfs him. He runs as far from the dragon as possible, about to cry despite the crowd in a cacophony around him. But no matter how far he runs, the dragon form of Avon is right behind him. Just a flutter to reach his sprint. Above the stadium, dark grey clouds swirl and lightning traps Mumbo from retreating. 

The next thing Mumbo knows, he’s on his back. Trapped between two sharp purple claws, the pressure of the dragon’s foot weighing down on his chest. Mumbo struggles, attempting to wriggle free to no avail. He’s trapped beneath Avon’s claws, trapped between the massive talons that could easily rip out his throat. The muzzle of the beast lowers down, purple flames rolling free from bone white fangs. Mumbo cranes his neck backwards, trying to avoid the impending doom. He closes his eyes, and calls out to everyone and anyone. “I surrender!” 

For a second, Mumbo fears Avon couldn’t understand him in that form, that nothing he could say would stop the dragon from burning him to a crisp. But after a second, the weight relieves from his chest, the heat of the fire ebbing away. 

“The victor of the duel goes to the wanderers.” Dolios calls, ending the duel event. “Do not fret, Mr. Jumbo, your team still has first place- I cannot wait to see your team in the labyrinth tomorrow.” 

Mumbo offers a weak smile, attempting to stand up but falling to his knees. He can’t tell if he’s just in shock from nearly being eaten by a dragon, exhausted from fighting for his life, or too wounded to stay standing. 

He’s not the only one beyond exhaustion. Avon steps back, her form shifting back to the sturdy human he knew when they first met. Her eyes roll back into her head, wings stretching out to try and catch her fall as Avon collapses to the ground. Passed out, the other two wanderers run to her side. Red calls for her to wake up, Ecto scooping the dragonheart into her arms and brushing away blood from her face. 

Mumbo leaps out of his skin, someone’s hand against his shoulder. It’s TFC. “Well done Mumbo, you really fought to the end. No matter, we’re going into the labyrinth challenge tomorrow!” 

“And we know who the dark mage is.” Doc whispers. Mumbo follows his gaze, past the wanderers, up the wall of the coliseum. Coming to rest on Magistrate Dolios, leaned back in his seat with one cheek resting against his hand. A charismatic smile rests beneath calm, friendly eyes. Eyes that stare at Mumbo and the hermits just a little too fiercely. “Come on, man, we need to get outta here. This coliseum is a trap.”

[welllpthisishappening]

One Foot In (5/7)

The facts were these.

Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.

Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.

And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.

—–

Rating: Teen, but eventually they’re going to kiss Word Count: 9K’ish this chapter, with feelings AN: Thank you to everyone who is clicking and reading and saying nice things about this story. It is very nice and I think you are awesome. We’re deviating a bit from the Pushing Daisies path here, so, uh...let’s get magical, huh?

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam. Or! You can catch up from the start ||

@shireness-says​ @optomisticgirl​ @nikkiemms, @teamhook, @dayo488​, @greymeetsblue​, @jennjenn615​, @heavenlyjoycastle​, @klynn-stormz​, @superchocovian​, @onepunintendid​, @jonesfandomfanatic​, @lfh1226-linda​ @thejollyroger-writer​

—–

Emma Swan is twenty-nine years, six months, twenty-four days and, approximately, nine hours and sixteen minutes old when she decides she may actually be going crazy. 

It would explain away a whole host of her problems. 

Ruby is flirting, genuinely and legitimately flirting, and Emma has a few sinking suspicions about the origins of the shirt Killian is wearing, but she’s also a little distracted by whatever the tips of Killian’s ears are doing because it seems he can dish the flirty banter out, but he absolutely, positively cannot witness it. 

Or however the saying is supposed to go. 

And he won’t stop staring at Emma. Like he knows something she doesn’t. 

It’s unnerving. 

“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to turn me to stone,” Emma mumbles, letting her head drop back and that is a mistake. She can’t remember ever having a concussion, but the wall behind her feels impossibly hard. 

That may just be the situation. Ruby laughs again, leaning over the edge of Victor’s desk until the tips of her hair skim over papers and the not-so-good doctor looks incredibly overwhelmed. Emma understands the feeling. 

She bites her tongue to stop herself from making some kind of absolutely absurd noise because Killian’s eyes widen slightly at the scene in front of them and the longer she tries to remember the dream, the harder it’s becoming to separate reality from fiction and she can’t actually google psychiatric institutions. 

That would probably alert some kind of government agency. 

“If what we’ve been told is true, I’d imagine that’s entirely possible,” Killian says. He doesn’t take a step towards her, but Emma knows he wants to and she swears she can feel him next to her. 

Maybe there are psychiatric institutions listed in the yellow pages. 

She’s not even sure there are yellow pages anymore. The whole thing sounds incredibly antiquated, even in her head. 

Ruby makes a ridiculous noise when she knocks a pile of papers off Victor’s desk. His answering whatever makes Emma want to gag. 

“And,” Killian adds, ducking his head so Emma can’t avoid his gaze. “I know you’re thinking something, love. So let’s have at it. At least it’ll distract us from whatever is going on over there.” “This is normal.” “That doesn’t make it acceptable.”

She scoffs, digging the toe of her shoe into the tile underneath her. “What’s the matter, Jones? Not into public displays of affection?” “How does the man not realize what’s going on? It’s honestly almost too much, don’t you think?”

Emma shrugs and maybe it’s the wall that’s moving because it seems to be pushing even harder against the jut of her ponytail. She can barely remember anything about the dream now, just wisps of memories and moments and it was so, incredibly dark. 

She hasn’t been able to get the goosebumps off her arms since they got into her car. 

“Maybe,” Emma says. “But I don’t think he really cares. And, you know, it works. Gets us to the body and—”

She cuts herself off, wincing as soon as the word body falls out of her mouth. Killian tilts his head, the ends of his lips quirking up. 

“You’re doing another admirable job of avoiding my question. Seems to be a habit of yours.”

“Sweeping judgment,” Emma grumbles. She’s going to dislocate her toe if she presses her shoe any harder into the floor. 

Killian shakes his head. He’s bent his knees at some point which, if Ruby and Victor weren’t far too preoccupied flirting with, maybe, some purpose, would probably lead to both of them making fun, but it also makes Emma tug her lips back behind her teeth and breathe a bit sharply through her nose and it is not fair how good he is at this. 

Still. 

Maybe that was part of the dream. 

Something about understanding. 

She kind of remembers the woman’s face. Her eyes looked...not quite sad, but a little disappointed and a little wanting and that’s the feeling Emma hasn’t been able to shake, a tug in the pit of her stomach and a pull in the center of her soul and she’s never dreaded a trip to the morgue more. 

God, what a weird sentence. 

“Not sweeping,” Killian amends. “Accurate. And obvious. Do you think it’s possible?” Emma blinks. “Do I think what is possible?” “You’re not actually going to make me say it, are you?” “I think I may kind of need you to say it.”

It’s an admission Emma doesn’t need to make, but she feels as if she’s drifting between dream and reality and she swears she’s seen those people before. She knows she knows them, she just can’t figure out how. Or why they showed up in her subconscious. 

Emma’s eyes flit up when Killian doesn’t respond immediately and she’s not sure if she’s glad or frustrated that she does – because she can see the muscles in his throat move when he swallows, the clench of his jaw probably doing damage to several different parts of his mouth. His lips move again, like he isn’t sure if smiling is acceptable in an emotionally charged moment in the middle of a goddamn morgue, but it only takes half a second for him to decide and Emma is thankful for the wall behind her. 

“Do you think it’s possible that I was inadvertently working for some kind of magical darkness because that same magical darkness thinks I am…” “Magical?” Emma suggests, and Killian’s answering noise is strangled at best. “I have no idea. I’ve never...it’s not like I’ve met a lot of other people who can wake the dead and ask them who murdered them.” “Have you ever woken anyone who wasn’t murdered?”

Emma tenses. She knows she tenses. Killian knows she tenses. Ruby is in the middle of something absolutely ridiculous and she probably knows Emma tenses. 

She’s the world’s worst liar and even more terrible at trying to deflect the conversation, but it suddenly seems like she’s balancing on that tight rope again and her head shake makes her entire neck ache. 

“Nope,” she says, far too quickly to be anything except the blatantly obvious lie it is. 

Killian arches an eyebrow. “Nope?” “Nope. I...well, why would I do that? I’m not trying to play God.” “I’m not suggesting that.” “Then what are you suggesting, exactly?” He lets out a low, vaguely sardonic chuckle and Emma figures that’s fair. His hand twists behind him, tugging on hair and pressing the pads of his fingers against the skin just behind his ear. There’s a hint of color on his cheeks. 

That’s disconcerting too. 

Emma can barely hear him over the buzzing in between her ears. 

“I have no idea at all,” Killian admits softly. “But well...I don’t know. I have no idea what the hell I’m talking about or suggesting or even theorizing, but I’m at least ninety-six percent positive I can hear you, Swan. Or maybe feel you. God, shit, that sounds ridiculous.” “That doesn’t sound ridiculous.” “You’re being generous, love.”

Emma makes a contradictory noise, ignoring the fluttering of her pulse. “I’m not,” she promises. “I...you have no idea what you were trying to collect though? For this...darkness? Honestly, that almost sounds more ridiculous than you being able to feel me.” “That kind of sounds like a line.” “It might be.” Killian smiles, head falling forward when he exhales and Emma’s palms are never going to recover from the nails she keeps digging into her skin. “We are exponentially better at flirting than Lucas is.” “Don’t tell her that, she’ll get offended.”

Emma briefly wonders if magic is possible, based solely on the force of Killian’s expression when he looks at her. It’s not immediate, which almost makes it worse or, probably, better, but Emma’s clearly lost control of the English language, so she’s not going to be specific about which adjective she uses. 

He tilts his head up slowly, like he’s trying to savor the moment and she needs magic to be real and fix this because not reaching out and brushing her fingers over the curve of his jaw is growing more and more difficult. 

“What are you thinking about, Swan?” he asks, voice low but with a hint of something that sends a shiver down Emma’s spine and makes her dig her heels into her shoes and maybe they should have gone to prom together because they appear to be very good at dancing around the subject. At least Emma is. 

“Way too much to be even remotely healthy.” “Can you think so much that it would be a detriment to your health?” “You’re the one who’s read encyclopedias. I’m surprised you’re not a doctor at this point.” “Not a doctor,” Killian says, smile still lingering at the corners of his mouth. Ruby is taking her sweet time getting them to see this body. 

Emma does not want to see this body. 

“That wasn’t a contradiction to the encyclopedias,” Emma points out. “And I’m surprised you can’t feel my neurons like...short-circuiting or something at this point.” “You’re also not a robot, Swan.”

“Look who’s being generous now.” His eyes widen slightly before raking across her, drifting from her face to her arms and the bend of her elbows, tracing back across her hips and the bend in her right knee. Emma doesn’t mean to hold her breath, but she’s still on that metaphorical tight rope and she kind of feels like she’s being taken stock of. It’s not altogether unpleasant. 

Every single inch of her feels like it’s buzzing, a quiet energy under her skin and a hum of something that might actually be power or magic and Emma can’t remember the last time she went to the doctor. 

She assumes a doctor would be able to refer her to an appropriate psychiatric facility. 

Killian’s head shifts again, hair dangerously close to his brows, but she can still make out his eyes perfectly and--

“You’ve got to tell me what you’re thinking, Swan.” There’s a hint of a plea to his words and Emma realizes, rather suddenly, he’s been doing a very good job of taking this in stride, but it may be a bit of an act and a possible show of magic and she inhales quickly, like that will give her an extra boost of confidence. 

“I’ve never met anyone else like me,” she says. Her voice shakes. That’s disappointing. “Ever. There’s...it’s not like we have club meetings or matching lettermans jackets or anything like that. There is just me and what I can do and shouldn’t be able to do and—” “—Why don’t you think you should be able to do it?” “What?” “What makes you think it’s inherently wrong, Swan?” Killian asks. 

Emma gapes at him, stunned that he could think it was anything except that, but she knows Ruby also kind of thinks that and she’s incredibly good at self loathing. It’s probably the trail of bodies in her wake and the lingering sense that she’s forgetting something important about that dream. Killian’s expression doesn’t shift though, steady and certain and the confidence that’s practically pulsating in the air around him has an almost legitimate taste. 

Like berries or something. 

She’s honestly gone insane. 

“It’s…” Emma starts, waving her hands in the air when she can’t come up with the right words to prove what an absolutely, terrible, no good, very bad person she is. “It’s unnatural. This is—”

“—Magic?”

“That’s crazy.” “Swan, you touched me and I wasn’t dead anymore. I think that’s fairly good proof that there’s some kind of magical something happening here. And it doesn’t make it a bad thing.” “So long as no one knows about it.” “Explain that.” “I’ve been...Graham wasn’t wrong before, you know. I don’t really...talk to, well, anyone. I mean I talk to Ruby and some dead people and the people who buy my pies, but it’s not like I’ve got a thriving social life or anything. And I can’t.” “Why?” Killian presses, and there isn’t any anger there, just genuine curiosity and concern. Emma’s pulse is going to fly out of her body. 

At least there is an actual doctor nearby. 

“Because I left Storybrooke when I was a kid, alone and absolutely terrified and...I knew I could do this...whatever it is. Magic or a genetic mistake or—” “—You’re not a mistake, Swan.” “It’s nice that you think that.” “Emma,” Killian snaps, and she’s dimly aware of Ruby’s sound of frustration when they get loud enough to distract Victor from whatever part of the flirting plan she’s currently executing. He doesn’t take a step forward, there’s not enough room, but he rocks forward slightly and Emma’s breath hitches, stinging her nose and making her lungs burn and she’s totally unprepared for the look on his face. 

He’s determined and not, a strange combination that’s also a little soft and maybe Emma should start reading the dictionary so she can come up with better words in situations like this. 

Situations that end with conversations in her head. 

“I don’t think that,” Killian continues. “I know that. Unequivocally. You didn’t...whatever reason this happened to you, it doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you.” Emma shakes her head out of habit, pleasantly surprised and slightly charmed by the look of exasperation on Killian’s face. “I shouldn’t be able to do this,” she whispers. “It’s not right. It’s not safe. I mean...if you move the wrong way or—” “—That’s not going to happen.” “You can’t know that!” Ruby groans again, throwing them both a glare over her shoulder before redirecting her attention back to Victor. This is taking forever. 

Emma hopes that isn’t a sign. 

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Swan,” Killian says, another promise he can’t make, but one Emma also kind of needs and maybe covets and, if put under oath, she would swear his eyes get bluer when he looks at her. “But you’re deflecting quite a bit again, love. What are you worried about?” “Would you like an itemized list?” “I wouldn’t refuse it. You’ve been jaw-clenching since you answered the phone this morning.” Emma sighs, letting her tongue trace over her teeth. “When I was a kid, I was terrified of what would happen if someone could find out what I could do. That they’d...take me or use me and no matter how much you try and cover it up by flirting with me, we both know this is something I shouldn’t be able to do. It’s not normal.” “That doesn’t make it wrong.” “It doesn’t make it right either.” “You are impossibly stubborn.” “Yeah,” Emma mutters. “But that’s the point. I haven’t really...I’m very good at pushing away with both hands so no one will know what I can do.” “You can’t actually push me away, you know,” Killian says. It’s more out of place flirting. Emma’s pulse does not care. 

“That’s stupid.” “That’s what you’re capable of doing.” Emma groans, less frustration than...something else. “I’m kind of freaking out,” she admits, wholly unfair all things considered. Killian’s smile looks a hint sadder. “And I...well, Cora said the Darkness was looking for people like us, right?” 

“I’ve never undeaded the dead, Swan.” “I figured that’d be part of the reintroduction, honestly. Hey, Emma, long time no see, I also can touch people back to life.” He chuckles, fingers fluttering at his side like he’s trying to stop himself from touching her. “I wouldn’t have called you Emma,” Killian mutters. “Save that for special occasions and exercises in self confidence.”

“Do you think it’s possible?” 

“Your self confidence or the magic?”

“Throw a dart,” she quips. “But mostly the magic.” “Like I said, I have no idea. But I knew something was wrong as soon as the goons got on deck and there had to be some reason they wanted that water moved. I doubt the Darkness is all that concerned with proper hydration.”

“You’re absolutely hysterical.” “Got you to smile though,” Killian points out, waving a finger through the air and it’s dangerously close to her cheek. 

“Cora seemed very adamant.” “Well, we all know that Cora wouldn’t lie.”

She might laugh, but the sound feels like it rattles around her throat, scraping against the side and leaving behind marks that will linger for days or weeks or the rest of her goddamn life. Emma’s eyes fall shut, breathing only slightly erratic, which really is a step in the right direction.

“I used to have dreams,” she says, another sudden admission she hadn’t planned on making until the words are flying straight out of her. “When I was a kid and there were new houses and cold houses and I’d never been very good at sleeping, but it got worse and worse the older I got. I used to fall into these kinds of fits and they changed a lot, different locations and faces that weren’t ever really specific, but it always ended the same.” She opens her eyes, vision blurred slightly. She can still see the flecks of something in Killian’s eyes. It might be magic. 

Emma still wants it to be magic. 

If only to prove she isn’t as alone as she’s always felt. 

“How did it end?” Killian asks, another rock forward that she should object to. She doesn’t. 

“Badly.” She doesn’t say anything else, knows she doesn’t really have to when Killian’s tongue flashes between his lips. He’s not close enough for Emma to actually feel his exhale. Her brain doesn’t care. It latches on to the want and the need and the taste of blood lingers in the back of her mouth when she chews on her tongue again. 

“Is that what happened last night?” Emma nearly bites her tongue in half. “What?” “Is that what happened last night?” Killian repeats. “A dream that ended badly?” “How do you know that?” “That’s not an answer, Swan.”

She huffs out a breath of oxygen her lungs could desperately use, running a ragged hand over her face. “I can’t really remember,” Emma mumbles. “It wasn’t the same as those ones. It was...it was dark and I was alone for awhile, but then I wasn’t. There were people there. A man and a woman and they said…” She grits her teeth, trying to remember details that are fading as quickly as she can try and hold onto them. “They said it was going to be worth it.” “What was going to be worth it?” “Your guess is as good as mine.” Killian laughs again, low and almost unsurprised because of course there’s another mystery. “Figures. You weren’t by yourself though.” Emma considers that for a moment – trying to remember the feeling of the dream and the faces that were almost familiar in a way that made it seem as if they’d been there since the very beginning. Her smile feels almost natural. “No, I wasn’t.” 

She shakes her arms, doing her best to get rid of the sudden surplus of excess energy that appears to be lingering in the tips of her fingers. “And I don’t think Cora would lie either,” Emma adds, avoiding Killian’s gaze. 

It doesn’t matter. She can feel his eyes widen and she wrings her hands together just to prove that she hasn’t, in fact, turned to stone. 

“Emma.” “Oh, c’mon.” He rolls his eyes when she does, finally, meet his eyes. It’s a bit of normal in the crazy and Emma’s thankful for it, even when they’re discussing something another human has already referred to as the Darkness. 

“They called him master,” Killian says. “That’s...he must have been looking for something.” “Something magical.” “But the water is gone. I saw it crash before, well…before everything went to shit.” “That’s a nice way of putting it,” Emma mumbles, drawing more laughter and another smile and that’s comforting too. She lets her head drop back again, pulse almost evening out and breathing coming almost normally – until Killian runs his hand through his hair and rocks back on his feet and—

“You know, I used to wonder about you,” he says, rushing over the words as if they’re somehow embarrassing. “Not, well, not in a stalkery, all the time kind of way. But in a you were gone and eventually I realized you weren’t coming back and I wondered what you looked like sometimes kind of way.” “What I looked like?”

“Yeah, in retrospect that sounds a little stalkery too, doesn’t it?” Emma twists a strand of hair around her finger, chewing lightly on her lower lip. “Sounds a little flirty, honestly.” “Ah, that’s bitter.” “How’d it play out for you?” Killian hums in confusion, a furrow to his brows that is equal parts attractive and a little overwhelming, as if one look can alter the entire state of gravity around Emma. She presses her palms flat against the wall, not really much better than digging her nails into her skin because whatever this wall is made out of is kind of gritty and horrible, but Killian’s ears have gone scarlet and the tip of his tongue is pressed into the corner of his mouth. “Play out,” Emma repeats. “As far as looks go.” He might genuinely growl at her. 

Whatever the sound is, it lingers in the air around them until Emma is certain it’s crackling with electricity and want and a slew of other adjectives that make her heart race and the possible magic she’s definitely in possession of soar.  

Killian’s eyes darken, crowding into her space and pressing his hand above her head. “That’s a loaded question. And I’m a little disappointed it’s not more obvious.” “Maybe I’m just trying to get some more confirmation.” She can see his shoulders shift, a twist of skin and muscles and a t-shirt that’s half a size too small. They really are incredibly good at flirting with each other. 

Emma licks her lips before she considers the repercussions of it, whatever noise that rumbles in the back of Killian’s throat making her feel as if she’s floating and a little drunk and both of those things would be a better explanation than magic. 

It’s definitely magic. 

She doesn’t know how she knows, but she knows and she wants to ignore the idea of the Darkness for the rest of her life. 

“Better,” Killian says, low and gruff and Emma swears the word slinks into her bloodstream. It wraps around her heart and several other internal organs that would probably sound disgusting if she were to ever say any of this out loud, drifting down her limbs and taking up residence at major pulse points, a steady rhythm that helps ground her when the buzzing in her brain roars to life. 

Emma doesn’t scoff, it’s more of an exhale, but still a little disbelieving and a little needy and—

“Yeah, you too,” she breathes. 

And, honestly, in a conversation about magic and death and dreams that end with Emma serving as the subject of several vaguely horrible science experiments, telling a guy she’s definitely started referring to as her boyfriend in her head that she’s attracted to him shouldn’t be so surprising. But Killian’s face hasn’t appeared to get that memo.

His eyebrows jump into his hairline, a muscle in his temple fluttering at a rate that can’t be medically accurate. He doesn’t move his right hand, but his lips press together tightly and Emma’s eyes dart towards his left arm when he tries to twist it behind his back. 

His eyelashes are impossibly long, fluttering when he closes his eyes and his shoulders move again, as if he’s trying to readjust the weight that’s landed there. 

“Hey,” Emma says, reaching out against her better judgment to tug on the front of his shirt. “That’s...do you want to talk about it?” “No.” “Killian.” “What is there to talk about, Swan? It was there when I left home and it was there when I got on the boat and it’s very clearly not here now, so somewhere between living and dying and living again, someone decided I didn’t need to have my left hand anymore.” “I think you want to talk about it.” He glares, but she’s almost confident in her ability to read him too and if they’re going to share magic, or whatever, Emma figures it’s part of her biological right. “The most stubborn person alive, you know that?” “No,” Emma argues. “You’re alive too. That, at least, makes us even.”

“God, it’s not fair that you can still do that.” “Yeah, tell me about it.” Killian grins, less...everything except something Emma can’t possibly begin to think about in a morgue. “Cora said she didn’t think they’d take it,” he whispers. “As in there’s a reason they did take it. And I’m pretty positive the they in this scenario are the goons.” “Seems to be a trend.” “Yeah, it does. A frustrating one that I can’t wrap my head around. Have you ever heard of a fairy tale where the villains steal someone’s hand?” “Fairy tale,” Emma echoes skeptically, and Killian’s teeth dig into his lip. She’s slightly optimistic that it’s so he won’t be tempted to kiss her. 

“Are you not my knight in shining armor, Swan?”

“That’s almost laying it on too thick, don’t you think?” Killian mutters a quick disagreement, bringing his left arm back to his side. “I think it’s some very twisted trick of the universe that I’d spent more time than appropriate during my teenage years wondering if your hair was still able to reflect sunlight only to die before finding you again and then, upon not being dead, being unable to touch you as much as I very desperately want to.” “Desperately?” Emma’s voice cracks on the word, and she knows she should stop repeating everything he says, but she’s having a difficult time breathing and she assumes he won’t fault her lack of sentence structure. Ruby’s laugh has taken on a decidedly victorious tone, Victor grumbling something that sounds like the tell-tale signs of acquiesce. 

They’re running out of time. 

“Desperately,” Killian repeats. “And, as if that weren’t enough, if we do somehow figure out a way to magic ourselves out of this mess, figure out who killed me, fight off some mythical Darkness and make sure you get to REM sleep every night, I still won’t be able to hold onto you with both of my hands.”

Emma doesn’t realize she’s been holding her breath until all the oxygen rushes out of her lungs in one great, big enormous huff. She’s not crying, so that feels like a victory, but Killian’s suddenly the one who can’t hold her gaze and that doesn’t compute at all. 

She shuffles her weight between her feet, trying to put some incredibly undesirable space between them so she can hold her hand out expectantly. 

“Is that code?” “We didn’t come up with the code yet,” Emma points out, and it’s enough to work a slightly tremulous smile out of him. She’ll take her victories where she can get them at this point. “And I know there are gloves in your back pocket. Hand ‘em over.” “Swan, what…” “Don’t argue with me, Jones. A pirate is supposed to share his booty with his crew or something, right? I have no idea how pirate rules work.” “I don’t think pirates had many rules, love, that’s why they were pirates.” “You are grasping at straws and distracting me from my point. Gloves, now and now.” He makes a disbelieving noise, but doesn’t argue anymore, yanking the gloves out of his pocket and dropping them in her upturned palm. It takes some finangling on Emma’s part to make sure she doesn’t inadvertently elbow him in the ribs or something more catastrophic, but she keeps her grunting to a minimum as she tugs the fabric over her fingers. And it’s obvious he realizes what she’s about to do before she does it. 

His eyes go wide and his jaw goes slack and he might mumble her name, a quiet Emma that sounds half like a plea and half like another wholly impossible promise, but none of that is quite as gravity-altering as whatever happens to every single inch of Killian’s face as soon as she wraps her glove-covered finger around the end of his left arm. 

Emma doesn’t say anything – isn’t entirely certain she’s capable of it and, really, she’d rather not embarrass herself by saying something idiotic, like telling him she may honestly be in love with him again or still or whatever – so she just lets her fingers drift over skin she’s not actually touching, tracing over scars that are far cleaner than she expected them to be. 

That gives her pause, but she refuses to linger on it when she knows they’re already on borrowed time. The clack of Ruby’s heels is getting closer. 

And Killian, for his part, looks a little stunned. His eyes don’t ever leave Emma, bouncing from her fingers back to her face and drifting towards her mouth and maybe they should start carrying saran wrap with them at all times. 

That seems a little weird. 

“Emma,” he whispers, and when they get out of this, when there are no more dead bodies and no more threats and she’s told him the absolute truth about absolutely everything, she’s going to kiss every single inch of skin she can find. She’s going to linger on these few inches, an emotional brand that feels as heavy-handed as any of the decidedly sentimental thoughts she’s considered in the last few days, but she’s going to do it anyway, until he believes it’s ok and worth it and—

“Did you say you wondered if my hair could reflect sunlight?” Emma asks. 

Whatever noise he makes will probably play on loop in Emma’s memories for the rest of her life and very likely into several different afterlifes. It warms her from the inside out, another rush of power and a hint of guilt she’s been ignoring because she’s definitely keeping big, important facts from him and Killian is already nodding. 

“I did when I was a kid. Especially in the summer. We’d be outside all the time and, God, I swore it was, like, phosphorescent or something.” “That’s a very big word for a nine year old.” “I didn’t come up with that one until I was ten.” “Ah, well, that’s ok.” He nods, half a wink and it’s not very good, but it’s still stupidly charming. “Like it was it’s own power source,” Killian adds, half to himself as his fingers drift through the air just above Emma’s head. “It never made any sense.” “Yeah, join the club.” “I think I probably could have remembered every single strand when I was a kid. And, fuck, I know I’m not helping my stalking case, but—” “—No, no,” Emma interrupts, far too quickly. “That’s...I mean, it’s kind of ok.” “Good news for me. But it was like it was imprinted in my brain, even after you left. Years and summers and how ridiculous it was trying to race myself down that stupid hill.” “You went back to the hill?” “My uncles thought it was a coping mechanism, and it was at first, but then it was so I wouldn’t forget too. I wanted to hate you for a while, Swan. That you left and never came back and—” “—Not all of that was my fault.” “I know it wasn’t, love, but tell that to a decidedly friendless, leather jacket sporting fourteen year old and you’ll find I wasn’t very rational at that point. I wanted to hate you, more than I’d wanted just about anything at that point.” “Did you?” “No,” Killian answers immediately. “I kept going back to the hill and the memories always seemed to slam into me and I couldn't hate you if I tried. So I stopped. I remembered everything and every time I went back there I always seemed to remember the exact way the sun reflected off your hair.” She opens her mouth. Only to close it again. And does that four more times. Killian’s smile turns a little nervous, but that may be because Emma hasn’t let go of his arm. 

She’s got no intention of letting go of his arm. 

Or him. 

God. 

“That’s decidedly romantic for an angst-ridden teenager,” she says, which is really the last thing she expects to say, but is also kind of par for the course and Killian grabs one of her hands so he can press a kiss to the bend in her knuckles. 

“Yeah, it is.” Ruby groans, the scrape of Victor’s chair sounding impossibly loud when he gets up, muttering an excuse about taking an early lunch lingering behind him. 

“Are you guys done?” Ruby asks. She’s already tapping her heel. “Because we are on a very tight schedule here.” “The guy isn’t going anywhere,” Killian reasons. 

“Yeah, about that guy. I’ve got some facts.” Emma blinks, and lets Killian lace his fingers through hers. “What kind of facts?” “These kind of facts,” Ruby says, brandishing a questionably large file in front of her. “The kind that show that Charles Thatch has spent the better part of the last ten years in and out of several different prisons in a variety of states. He never seems to have much in the way of employment history, but he’s certainly got the means to bounce around the country quite a bit.” “Meaning?” “Meaning, our Mr. Thatch, who, incidentally, was found in the woods on the edge of the Storybrooke city line—” “—Town line.” “I’m going to kill you.” “Let’s avoid that, please,” Emma mumbles, trying to pull her arm out of Killian’s grasp so she can dramatically cross them over her chest. He tightens his hold. 

Ruby scowls. “Yeah, that was kind of shitty, right?” “Just a little. Go back to lording facts so you feel like you’re in control of the situation.”

Ruby flips her off that time. “Mr. Teach bounced around everywhere. Doing odds and ends and things that don’t make any sense at all, but, and this is the most important part, in the last two months he applied for, and received, an expedited passport.” “Meaning?” “Oh I get it,” Killian mumbles, and Emma isn’t sure if he means to squeeze her hand that hard. It’s almost worse if he doesn’t. 

“Honestly were you a PI in another life?” Ruby demands. “Or a cop? Getting upstaged like this is not fun for me at all. 

“As far as I know only one life. If we start dealing with regenerations or something too, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle that.” “Regner-whats?” “Like Doctor Who,” Emma supplies. “His brother was a giant nerd.”

The casual mention of Liam catches her by surprise, eyes widening to a size that Ruby absolutely notices and Killian’s brows pull low in confusion. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too, Swan. You were the one who wanted to build a TARDIS that one time.” “Yeah, well, it didn’t work did it?” “We didn’t know about the magic yet.” “Can we focus, please?” Ruby shouts, jumping for emphasis and they are being kind of unfair to her. “Because as Jones said, but didn’t actually explain, the passport thing is important. It means that Mr. Teach was able to leave the country with relative ease in the last two months, which could potentially include a little jaunt into the Atlantic ocean and—” “—Oh shit,” Emma mumbles. 

“Exactly. So, shall we touch him and ask him if he’s got TSA pre-screening?” “I don’t think they let felons do that,” Killian shrugs, ignoring whatever strangled noise Ruby makes and his hand doesn’t leave Emma’s when he directs her towards the nearest door. 

She’s never really enjoyed trips to the morgue. 

She assumes no one really does, except possibly Victor, but he’s a little weird and she understands that trips to the morgue are necessary. It’s the lighting though. It’s far too bright and everything smells like bleach and somehow stale at the same time, as if death is just permeating the air molecules. 

Emma takes a deep breath and immediately regrets it, shuddering despite her best efforts to control her limbs. 

“Hey,” Killian mutters. “It’s going to be fine, Swan. No matter what happens.” She doesn’t respond, but her eyes dart towards Ruby’s and there’s a warning there that Emma doesn't entirely appreciate. “How’d he die?” 

“Who?” 

“Mr. Teach. If they found him in the woods, there must have been a medical examiner there, right? Some kind of report.” Ruby makes a face – a stop sign in human form, but the question is already there and—“Just touch him and ask him how he killed Jones and who he was working for, Em.” “Wow, that was kind of blunt, Lucas,” Killian says. His gaze keeps moving back towards Emma though and she’s going to chew through her cheek by the time the day is over. 

She really wishes it were tomorrow. 

The Doctor never had to deal with this shit. That’s fundamentally untrue, but it makes her feel better to compare her problems to those of a fictional character who, eventually, was forced to blow up his entire planet. 

Emma just hopes she won’t have to do that too. 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” she mumbles, tugging the glove off her right hand with her teeth when Killian continues to let go. She drops her phone onto the edge of the table. 

Charles Teach is old, that much is obvious. He’s got wrinkles around his eyes and a decidedly disheveled look to him that kind of screams no good, very bad villain. They’ve already removed his clothes, a mass of skin that’s marred with scars and jagged lines and a life that practically reaches out and smacks Emma across the face. 

And part of her knows that none of those marks are what killed him. 

The other part of her is screaming. Loudly. In her head. 

“Is that him, Jones?” Ruby asks, and Killian hums. 

“Yup. You’d think the Darkness would get better looking lackeys. He looks like he's been dead for a very long time, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah, that’s weird. Seriously, am I going to have to offer you a job?” “It’s probably better than me testing the market when I’m fairly certain I don’t have a social security number anymore.”

“Oh, yeah, it’d be weird explaining that at an interview probably.”

“Plus, look at all the fun we’re having. I think I’m starting to grow on you, Lucas. I knew it was only a matter of time.” Ruby gags. “Don’t press your luck.”

Killian chuckles again, a flash of a smile that does not belong near a guy who definitely does not look like he’s only been dead for a few hours. There’s a pallor to his skin that doesn’t make sense, gray and drawn and everything looks far too calm. 

A guy with a track record as long as Charles Teach should not have died a peaceful death. 

It is the single worst observation Emma has ever made. 

“Swan,” Killian prompts when Emma continues to stare at the man on the table in front of them. “Emma, love, you’ve actually got to—” “—Yeah, yeah, I know,” she interrupts sharply. Ruby clicks her tongue. 

She doesn’t think much about where she touches, swatting her hand against Teach’s and he doesn’t jerk up the way most bodies do. Emma hates that she thinks of them as bodies. He opens his eyes slowly, taking in his surroundings as he lifts his head off the table. 

There’s a piece of hair sticking to his forehead. 

“Who the hell are you?” Teach asks, directing the question to, presumably, Emma. Her hand is still hanging very close to his. “And what the hell are you doing here, Jones? Didn’t I already kill you once?” “Yeah, I believe I was there for that,” Killian says flippantly. “Why’d you do that incidentally?” “Should have asked a few more questions before you met your untimely demise, my boy.” “Not your boy and honestly who says demise? That’s…” “Not important,” Ruby hisses. “Why’d you kill him? And what was the water for?” Thatcher narrows his eyes, but he almost looks impressed and Emma isn’t sure if that’s a good thing. “The water was for my master. I’m sure Jones told you that already.” “And that master,” Emma says, finding a bit of courage she didn’t expect and she’s not sure if it’s entirely because it feels like there’s sparks in between her fingers. The same fingers twisted up with Killian’s. “That’s the Darkness, right?” “You know far more than you’re giving yourself credit for.” “What the hell was the water for then? And why did he want Killian?” “It wasn’t Jones specifically,” Teach argues. “It was what he could do. It all timed up rather perfectly until he decided to be infuriatingly noble about it.” “Did that make negative sense to anyone else?” Ruby asks, glancing around the room as if there are more than the four of them there. 

Emma shrugs. “The magic, then? That’s...that’s a real thing?” “Can’t you feel it?” Teach asks. “It’s practically got its own frequency. Granted, part of that is how worried he is about you right now, but it’s there regardless. It’s rolling off you in waves.” “What does that have to do with the water?” She hates that she shouts the question, hates that she’s lost her last few strings of apparent sanity and control, but Killian squeezes her fingers again and tugs her hand up towards his lips and that can’t possibly be the right course of action. 

Emma couldn't care less. 

“My master,” Teach says. “He’s been looking for something, for a very long time, to bring back someone. And nothing has worked. It’s been...well, he’s been very disappointed. But we’d heard of something in those waters, a magical source of rejuvenation—”

“—Like the fountain of youth?” Killian asks. 

“Obviously not. The lad is dead already, keeping him young wouldn't do much of anything. The legend of this water said it could revive things that had been...not living. My master believed it would work, but he needed another magical being to transport it for him.” Ruby scoffs. “And that was Jones?”

“Obviously.” “Why wouldn’t the Darkness do it himself?” Emma presses, and Teach  gets that same impressed look on his face. It sends a chill down her spine. “Cut out the magical middle man as it were.” “It was dangerous. And my master doesn’t need to involve himself in matters like this. Not when it wasn’t guaranteed and he’s looking for…”

Teach trails off, expression shifting again to something far closer to terror than Emma is entirely ready for. She glances at Ruby – who immediately holds her hands up in confusion. 

“Fat lot of help you are,” Emma grumbles. “Alright, so the Darkness is looking for something to revive someone, but there’s more to it, isn’t there? What...what else could there be?”

“You don’t know?” “Obviously not and you are running out of time.” “I’d answer her,” Killian adds, a wholly unnecessary and slightly gallant move that leaves Ruby with her tongue hanging out of her mouth and Emma blushing just a bit. Teach’s mouth twists, understanding settling on his face.  

Emma hopes there isn’t actually ice sitting at the base of her spine. 

“I’m not doing anything,” Teach says. “I’m assuming I’m already dead given my surroundings and I’d imagine I won’t be going back to that funeral home any time soon. So it’s really up to you. Jones wouldn’t help my master, so he had to die. It’s as simple as that.” “But you took my hand,” Killian growls. Teach’s laugh bounces off the walls and echoes around them, seemingly growing louder and more threatening and— “That’s part of the mystery my boy. Trust me, my master’s getting plenty of use out of it. He’s gone back to the start. He’ll figure you all out sooner or later. There’s no way around it.” “The start? And, wait, wait, did you say you were in the funeral home? What the hell were you doing there?” “Making sure you made it into the ground. Unfortunately I didn’t stick around long enough to guarantee that, but I can’t be entirely faulted when the whole world went pear shaped and—” “—Did you die in the funeral home? When?” “Are you dense?” Teach sneers, sitting up now and Emma keeps glancing at her phone. “Of course I was in the funeral home. I was there when you were there. How you got out and I didn’t is a question for the ages of course, but—”

He doesn’t finish. Emma doesn’t let him finish. She swings her hand out, skin against skin and Teach falls back on the table with a thump that sounds far too loud. 

Ruby curses under her breath. 

“Well,” she whispers. “At least we know how that ended. And you know...justice is kind of served. So points to us.” “I don’t think that’s how it works,” Emma argues. She squeezes her eyes closed, as if that will change the scene in front of her or stop Killian’s gaze from boring into the side of her head and she could play this moment out eight-hundred thousand times and she’d still never be prepared for the next few words out of his mouth. 

“What is going on?” Killian asks, low and a hint desperate. His thumb starts tapping against the back of Emma’s wrist, directly on top of her pulse point. She figures that’s what does her in. 

She doesn’t open her eyes. 

It’s a cowardly move. 

Emma feels like a coward. 

“There’s another rule to all of this,” she whispers. “Me, I mean. And what I can do. That...well, that I didn’t tell you yet.” Killian’s arm falls back to his side. Ruby curses again. “What kind of rule?” he asks. 

“Remember you wanted to know why it’s a minute? It’s uh...it’s because the universe needs to stay balanced or something and if a not-dead-anymore person stays alive longer than a minute then—” “—Someone else has to die,” Killian says. 

Emma’s eyes snap open. “How’d you know that?” “Context clues.” “That’s impressive.” “Yeah, it’s something isn’t it? So Teach died because you didn’t kill me. Did you know that was going to happen?” Emma nods – quick and jerky and painful, but that may just be the echo of Ruby’s heel in a room filled with a bunch of dead people. “Did you know who it would be?” “No, it’s not…” “Right. Right. Just a trick of fate and happy coincidence.” Emma isn’t sure what to do with that tone of voice. It’s not angry and she knows he’s not, not really. The man on the table in front of them killed Killian, cut off his hand for reasons they still can’t figure out and apparently serves some mythical being with the worst villain name in the history of several universes, but he’s looking at her like he’s never seen her before and it’s not the exciting, slightly overwhelming gaze it’s been in the last few days. 

It’s like he can’t quite come to terms with her. It’s like he’s wondering if maybe she is, in fact, wrong. Emma bites her cheek again. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, not sure why she’s still talking. Ruby is going to sprain her tongue. “This,” Emma waves her hand towards Teach. “That wasn’t part of the plan. And I mean—” “—He did kill you,” Ruby adds, grinning when Emma flashes an appreciative glance in her direction. “So, you know, if we’re keeping tally marks in the Emma saving your ass column...”

Killian doesn’t move immediately, doesn’t even blink, but his eyes drift back towards Emma and she tries not to breathe too much. It feels like he’s taking stock of her again and she desperately wants to live up to expectations. 

She’s still not telling him everything. 

“That’s true,” Killian says eventually. “Thank you, Swan.” Emma wishes she could nod like a normal person. Her lungs are going to rise up in protest of her. “But,” he adds, and Ruby might try to actually cast a spell on him. “There’s one part I don’t entirely understand. Teach said he was in the funeral home, but they found him by the line. And now...going back to the start. The Darkness, I mean, was going back to the start. Where do we go? It’s not like we know who this thing is.” “I still don’t think it’s an alien,” Emma mumbles. It’s a piss-poor attempt at a joke and control and Ruby rolls her eyes so hard it must hurt. 

She throws both her hands in the air when she, apparently, comes to some sort of conclusion. “Oh, fuck, fucking fuck!” “Eloquent.” “Shut up, Em. You have your car?” “Do you want me to shut up or…” “Oh my God. We have to go. We have to go now. Jones, would your uncles be in your house, right now?” “Yes,” Killian says slowly, drifting back into Emma’s space. She doesn’t think he realizes he’s doing it. “They don’t...oh fuck.”

“Can someone tell me what is happening?” Emma yells. 

“The start. He’d go back to try and find whatever he was looking for. Whatever Thatch thinks he needed my hand for.” “And that would probably be a little jarring for your shut-in uncles, yes?” Ruby asks, already moving towards the door and brushing by a clearly confused Victor. 

Emma suddenly understands. 

She needs to expand her curse vocabulary. 

Because the Darkness is on his way to Storybrooke. 

Emma doesn’t actually count how long it takes them to get to Killian’s house, but she isn’t sure she’s ever driven that fast and she’s going to get at least half a dozen tickets for running all those red lights. 

Killian’s out of the car before she’s really stopped it, running up steps with long strides and ignoring both Emma and Ruby’s cries to wait two seconds, Jesus. That last part is mostly Ruby. 

The house itself is exactly the way Emma remembers. 

The shutters are still that same shade of blue Liam picked when they were kids – an afternoon that felt like torture at the time, but quickly dissolved into paint-stained clothes and color-streaked cheeks. There aren’t any chairs on the porch anymore, the curtains drawn closed on the huge bay window in the front of the house and Emma can see the fabric fluttering slightly, as if something or someone is standing just inside them. 

“Killian,” she calls again, but he’s already bounding up the steps. He jumps over the third one. It creaks. And he doesn’t bother closing the door behind him, the screen slamming against the side of the house and Emma’s out of breath by the time she catches up to him. 

There’s no one inside. 

At least it doesn’t look like there’s anyone inside. 

Everything feels as if it’s been paused, a stillness that’s unnerving and incorrect in a house like this where Emma only knew laughter and smiles and blanket forts with incredibly detailed engineering. She lets her eyes flit around the room, taking in the differences. There are more frames on the wall now, Killian at a variety of ages with a variety of hair styles and two men Emma only has vague memories of. 

There are pillows everywhere, decorative lamps that are just treading the line between classy and ostentatious, blankets draped over both couches. 

She reaches her hand out before she thinks about, probably something to do with magnets or those words she’s been ignoring for the better part of the day and it doesn’t really matter because Killian moves his hand behind him to grab at her too and that’s when everything suddenly and completely goes to shit. 

It’s as if an explosion goes off, a darkness so deep Emma briefly wonders if it’s possible for the villain of this story to toy with the sun. 

She blinks, gripping Killian’s fingers like a lifeline and one of them must mutter we’re going to be ok, but Emma genuinely has no idea who it is. She’s far too busy shrinking back from the laughter that’s suddenly surrounding them, jarring and victorious and just a little unhinged. 

The darkness ebbs slightly, bright enough that Emma can make out the shadow in front of her. 

And, for half a moment, that’s all it is – a shadow and smoke over the water, but then the laughter grows and the magic in her veins sings, doing its best to battle back. It doesn’t work. Particularly when the shadow turns corporal and the smile on the Darkness’ face is like nothing Emma has ever seen. 

“We’re ok, love,” Killian whispers. “It’s ok.” She must shake her head – can feel her hair shift against her neck, but the words get caught in her throat and the Darkness hasn’t stopped staring at her. 

Emma barely notices the other men who have appeared there, faces that match the ones in the frames and one of them curses when he sees Killian standing there. “No,” he mutters. “No, no, that’s going too far. Kill us. It’d be better than this.”

The Darkness laughs again. 

It makes his whole body shake, head thrown back and Emma suddenly notices there’s a slight glimmer to his skin, like he’s glowing and it may be the single worst thing she’s ever seen. 

Until he snaps his head back, eyes meeting hers and she will eventually wish she didn’t whimper. In the moment, though, she can’t seem to do anything else. She holds her breath and tries to melt into the floor, but she can’t do that either and she can’t turn into Killian’s side and every single promise he makes falls on deaf ears. 

“I thought he’d bring you,” the Darkness says, the same triumphant look that was in his smile working its way into his voice. “You’re rather predictable, but the good ones always are.” “What do you want?” Killian asks. Nemo, Emma thinks it’s Nemo, curses again, doing his best to fight against the rope tying him to the chair he’s sitting on. 

The Darkness waves a finger through the air. “You already know that, dearie. There’s no point in rehashing. I know you spoke to Teach.” “How?” “Please, I know everything. That’s how I know this is going to work. Because the good ones are always easy to get an edge on and,” he lets out a low whistle, taking a step closer to them as Killian tries to push Emma behind him, “she’s practically bursting with it. But first we need to clear the air a little bit.”

“Meaning?” Emma gasps, the realization striking her like lightning or something equally metaphorical and terrible and she kind of wishes it weren’t metaphorical because then she wouldn’t have to do this. It feels a bit like blowing up her planet. 

Or at least the sun she’s started orbiting around. 

She’s not even sure that makes sense. 

She really has no idea how anything scientific works. 

The Darkness bobs on the balls of his feet – an absurd sentence and an absurd visual, particularly when his skin has gotten even brighter, like he’s growing more powerful the longer Emma plays coward. He lets out another laugh. 

Shakespeare might be the one who curses that time. 

“Oh, this is going to be delightful,” the Darkness says, a wistful sigh that makes Emma wonder how long he’s waited for this. “I don’t need you anymore. Well, no that’s not true, I’ll take you, but I’d rather have her and—” “—You’re not getting Emma,” Killian growls. “I’m not...not again.” “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, dearie. I should have known from the very start it wasn’t you. You were just...a leech, a latch on, a sponge.” “What?” “Of the magical variety.” “I don’t…” “Oh, I know you don’t,” the Darkness continues. “But magic leaves a mark. It lingers where it matters and Cora should have realized. That was foolish of me. To believe she’d be able to differentiate and, well, I do admit it’s close, but…” “Make some goddamn sense!” “Oh my God, Killian,” Nemo sighs. 

Killian doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t let go of Emma’s hand. And Emma is only slightly confused. She’s mostly doing her best not to cry. 

The Darkness stares at her again. “But you my dear,” he says, a longing in the words that makes her whole body ache. “You are something entirely new. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time. The only problem is I need you to be free of those pesky secrets that have been crippling your magic. The Savior can’t have that.” Emma blinks. “The what?” “We’ll get to that. First thing’s first though. The truth, Ms. Swan. About what happened in this house all those years ago and how you’ve spent your entire life running from it. Then the fun will begin.”

She tastes blood in her mouth, vision blurring with tears she can’t bring herself to cry because it is her fault and it’s always been her fault and she should have told him from the start. 

She’s wrong. 

From the very start. “Swan, what is he…” Killian starts, but his eyes widen when the Darkness moves back towards Shakespeare, a knife at his throat and a predatory glint in his stare. 

“Go ahead, Savior,” the Darkness sneers. “Or we’ll start killing. I’m not nearly as upset about it as you are.” Killian spins on the spot – ignoring the villain and the knife pressed to his uncle’s neck and Emma’s breath hitches when his glove-covered hand brushes her cheek, catching a tear on the fabric. The whole thing is very cyclical. 

She hates it. 

“Like the goddamn sun,” he mumbles, and it doesn’t make sense. It makes a negative amount of sense, but Emma exhales like it’s the single most important sentence ever uttered and—

“I’m the reason Liam is dead.”

Killian’s hand falls away from her.

[bluebird722]

The Second Gift

Setting: AU!Teen Titans College

Pairing: Victor Stone + Rachel Roth/Cyrae

Rating: M

Author’s Note: Cyrae was my ultimate OTP back in the day, and I appreciate it as either romantic or platonic across fanfiction, the comics, and animated form. If you guys have more NSFW prompts, please let me know! I’d be happy to write more!

Victor leaned back on the couch and watched Rachel open her present. Her eyes widen when she pulled out the Lily Silk flannel pajamas. “Vic…” she whispered. They were navy, the same as her hair dye, with white piping. “H—How…How did you…”

The quarterback grinned and folded his hands. “Some of the other cheerleaders—not saying who”—he added— “saw you add that to your ‘favorites’ on your computer, and I thought that was a nice splurge.” Then he went still. “I hope you don’t mind, but I went up a size, since they say that’s usually more comfortable—”

Rachel shook her head. “No, no, this is perfect!” Her smile widen. “I’m going to wear these tonight!” She noticed Kori, her best friend, nudge Dick and motion with her head to the pajama wear, and bit her lip.

All of her other presents were wonderful, and Rachel made sure that her guests knew how much she appreciated the gift cards and a hardcover book on the history of Wicca. The party ended at one in the morning, after eight hours, and Vic, Kori, Dick, and Garfield stayed behind to help clean up. Then the head cheerleader, her boyfriend, and the campus prankster left, and Rachel locked the front door so no one would suspect that her secret boyfriend had his arms around her from behind, his face in her hair. “Did you have a good time?” he whispered into her neck.

Rachel leaned her head back and arched her backside against his crotch. “I did,” she murmured. She felt his hands’ desire to slide under her dress, fondle with the waistband of her lace bikini, and draw small circles over her sensitive skin. “Hold on—let me change, and we’ll get ready for bed.”

She kissed him over her shoulder and hurried into her room, coming out five minutes later in the silk pajamas. “I love these,” she said, rubbing her cheek against her shoulder.

Vic, already in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, walked over. “I’m glad,” he said, “but I also forgot—I got you another present.”

Rachel’s smile shifted from affectionate to lopsided. “Vic…”

He shook his head. “Nope. Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” He turned out the living room and hallway lights as he followed her into the bedroom. The purple satin sheets were his favorite. He sat behind her and took a deep breath. “You know, one of the things I love most about you is how devoted you are to abstinence until your thirties.”

Rachel nodded with a hum. Even though she tried not to care, she hated how people would make fun of her for not wanting to lose her virginity until marriage or at least her thirties. She was an unplanned baby between two unmarried people and was aware since childhood of the tension between her parents although they loved her unconditionally and never spoke negatively of each other. Fortunately, Vic understood and never questioned her boundaries.

“I’m glad,” she said timidly, though her heart beat faster. She didn’t mind Vic pushing her hair from her face.

“I do remember,” he continued, “when you asked me about sex and all, what it felt like, orgasms…” He reached to his back pocket. “So…I have a treat.” He handed her the small rectangular box with a red ribbon. She glanced nervously at him before she pushed off the ribbon and opened the box, and her eyes widen when she saw its content. “Oh God…” She looked up at him. “Vic…I—I don’t know…how to use it…”

Before Vic could comfort her, she swallowed. “Wait… Do you—Are you saying…now?”

“It’s your birthday,” he reminded her. “Do what you want.”

Rachel closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Hold on…” Vic watched her crawl to her nightstand and obviously gulp down a sedative, which she took every night before an exam or cheering competition. Then she slowly made her way back to him and sat up on her knees. “Yeah. I…I’ll try this.” She turned her head bashfully. “Will…Will you help me?”

Smiling, Vic kissed her cheek. “Of course.” He turned around to kiss her and lowered her onto the bed. She still tasted of spearmint and smelled of Opium. He planted kisses down her jaw to her throat and suprasternal notch. “Well, first, I think we have to take this off first.” He supported himself by his elbows and slowly unbuttoned her pajama top, kissing the sternum and skin he exposed.

Rachel arched her back and already missed the feeling of silk against her bare nipples and breasts. Her eyes closed, but even though Vic helped her arms out of the sleeves, he didn’t kiss or suck on her breasts or nipples—which he usually did when they made out. Instead, he kissed her, and she hazily watched him bare her bottom half.

Vic pulled out the vibrator and turned it on, first at the lowest setting. It was so calming and therapeutic. As he kissed her even slower, he traced the tool down her throat, around her left breast, and then circled her nipple, watching it slowly harden.

Rachel choked and arched her hips, but Vic didn’t stop. Instead, he increased the setting as he moved on to her other breast, her nipple already erect. “Feel good?” He knew he did; the more elongated her nipple became, the more he could feel it under his pants.

His partner swallowed, which he took as permission to move the vibrator down her abdominal line. Her fingers flew up to grab the fabric of her pillowcase in reaction, and the tip circled around and inside her navel. Her hips shifted, and her chest arched. “Oh…Oh God…”

He stroked her hair but left her side. “Relax,” he whispered. He trailed the vibrator up the bottom of her thigh to spread her legs. As much as he wanted to go down on her, which he was planning for winter break, he instead slid it up and down the junction between her crotch and leg, and on to the other side. Her forehead was already shiny, and he grinned. Then he slowly rubbed her clit in careful circles, holding her down by her stomach. She smelled wonderful. He wanted to taste it.

“I promise, we’ll go slow,” he reassured her.

“Just do it already,” she pleaded through clenched teeth.

Vic treated it as though he was penetrating her with himself. First, he guided in the tip, listening for any discomfort. When she didn’t give any, he moved in slow as she tried sucking it in. She gripped her thighs, and her hips rose from the bed. Her moaning increased even after he filled her. She wouldn’t stop whispering, “Oh”, “Oh God”, “Oh Vic”. He teased her for a few minutes and then twisted the vibrator to the left. Her teeth nearly pierced her lip, and her fingertips pushed into the tops of her thighs. When he fully turned it, he increased the setting, and she threw herself back, only to tighten up again.

“Harder,” she whined as she grinded her back teeth.

Vic knew what she wanted but didn’t have the heart to pretend that he didn’t hear her. With the vibrator at the highest setting, he pushed in and out. “Does this feel good?”

Rachel rocked her hips with him and grabbed his shoulders. “Yes…”

Vic carefully went faster. His arm ached, but he envisioned himself as the one in her and between her legs, using his own anatomy to go in and out of her, giving her pleasure while creating his own. He increased the setting to the third level of intensity. Her breasts rocked with each thrust, and her toes sank into the sheets. Her legs widened even more as the pleasure started to grow under her navel. She panted and squealed, and winced repeatedly, and her toes curled. She was on the edge, like she was standing tiptoe on the edge of a cliff. Vic went harder until she couldn’t even feel the liquid escaping her body and streaming down her backside.

Rachel didn’t scream, but she made a loud grunt and squeal at once, and she twitched between gasps and grips on her bedsheets. Flashes and sparks blinded her, as though she had entered a whole new realm of being.

Watching a woman have her first ever orgasm gave Vic satisfaction, but for some reason, watching Rachel’s own increased his sense of importance. As her eyelids fluttered and her chest heaved, he stroked her wet hair and lowered the setting to the first level without removing it from her. He waited for her to catch her breath and then pulled it out. She shivered, and her legs jumped.

“Oh God,” she whispered with closed eyes. “Oh Vic…”

Grinning, he supported himself on his elbow. “Well?”

Her glassy eyes slowly moved to his direction. “Do you…” She swallowed. “Do you want me to say, ‘best birthday ever’?”

Vic chuckled. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting, but I can go with that! I gave you, the gift…of pleasure.”

Rachel sheepishly smiled and reached for him. “I’ll say it anyway. At least I’m not celibate—not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Vic kissed her forehead and hurried to the bathroom to clean the vibrator according to the directions, and came back to find her already under the covers, her arms encircled around her pillow. She was still naked. To be fair, he stripped down to his boxers and crawled into bed beside her. She turned and pulled him in for a kiss. “You know why I’m glad these sheets aren’t real silk?” he whispered.

“Why?”

Her voice, as silky smooth as her bare back and hip, led to him lying her on her back and kissing down her neck. She laughed until she heard a familiar hum but felt it against her leg before she heard it. Then it was against her labia and clit.

“Come on, Rachel,” he purred with his tongue lapping at her nipple and the vibrations feeling for her entrance at the same time. “All night long…”

[mlqcimagines]

MLQC boys reacting to MC’s twin (looks exactly like MC but is the total opposite personality) if they were to switch places for the day as a prank? (PS love this blog)

Lmao this is so interesting! I always wanted to do this, too bad I’m an only child. 

Victor - 

The first time he realizes something is off is when he calls your twin “Dummy” and… instead of blushing they just?  Laugh?  

Um.  Victor.exe has temporarily stopped working, do you wish to close the program? 

It escalates as he notices how much bolder “your” behavior has gotten.  You don’t rise to his bait, you fire back at him, you even do the exact opposite of what he asks. 

“Dude pls don’t lose me my job” You text your twin. 

The straw that breaks the camel’s back? 

You look at his special, homemade pudding, and wrinkle your nose. 

He stops dead in his tracks, and the rest of the world stops with him. 

“Who are you, and what have you done with my MC?”

Your twin just loses it, collapsing into a chair, laughing as hard as anyone he’s ever seen.  They ignore Victor’s furious look, whipping out their phone and firing off a quick text. 

“Just a second, Mr. CEO” they say mockingly, “And all will be revealed.” 

Why did your voice turn different?  What is going on? 

Just then you burst in the doors of his office, stopping dead as his face drains of all its color.  

“Oh Victor, I’m sorry, we just had to!   I wanted you to meet my twin for so long!” 

Surprisingly, he’s ok with it, chuckling and gently knocking a knuckle against your forehead. 

“If they’re important to you, they’re important to me MC.” 

Lucien - 

First notices when “You” seem disinterested in one of his lectures.  

It’s not unusual for you to fall asleep, but for you to sit on your phone the whole time?  And looking up to smirk at him? 

He tries to go about it logically.  

Had you started a new routine?  Taken a new class?  Been affected by an Evol?  

One day he “pops over” to borrow some tea from you. 

It’s a moment before you let him into the apartment, which is very odd.  

So when he comes in he starts snooping. 

And lbr we all know he’s not above going through your stuff 

But there’s nothing amiss, except you seem to have changed purses?  Before he can start rummaging through the new one though, “you” walk out of the kitchen, tea in hand. 

It was Earl Grey. 

You knew he didn’t like Earl Grey.  He was a chamomile man, through and through, caffeine made him jittery. 

“You’re not MC are you?” 

Your twin rolls their eyes. 

“Finally, I thought you were supposed to be some brilliant scientist?  MC, HE FINALLY GOT IT!” 

You bound out of the room where you’d been hiding, and run up to throw your arms around Lucien. You’re giggling nonstop. 

“Professor, I’d like you to meet my twin!” 

Lucien is struck to silence for a second before regaining his footing. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”  

You pout a little, Mr. Professor was too smooth for his own good. But you’re very happy that your twin and Lucien got to meet. 

And meanwhile, the wheels in Lucien’s head are turning. 

Gavin - 

He’s done a little background digging on you, of course. 

So he knows you have a twin. 

“The challenge here is to see how long it takes him to catch on, to see how well he knows you!” 

And so it begins.  When you and your twin put your minds to it you can really imitate each other perfectly. 

After a week, when Birdcop doesn’t seem to notice, your twin starts to throw a few wrinkles into the mix.  

They’ll occasionally order something that Gavin knows you don’t like but he still?  Doesn’t React?  What????

You get kind of depressed about it, you can’t lie. 

One night you and your twin are sitting in your apartment, commiserating about Gavin’s apparent obliviousness when you hear a tapping on the window!

The CUrTainS ArE oPeN!

He has the biggest grin on his face, and while it’s your twin to goes to let him in, he passes them right by and heads straight for you.  

“Gotcha” He says softly, and gathers you into a big hug. 

You’re laughing and crying a little bit, but you really are happy. 

Your twin can’t believe it - “How long have you known?” 

“Oh, right from the beginning.  Mc has a tiny scar on the knuckle of her right index finger.  You don’t have that.  I’m pleased to meet you for real though!”

Oh Gavin, you beautiful, frustrating, surprising man. 

Kiro - 

This one starts because your twin won’t stop begging you to meet Kiro.  It’s their idea to switch places when you say you feel a little weird about using your connection to him to get them a meet and greet. 

But you never could say no to them, so when they suggest switching places you can’t help but say yes. 

Kiro stares at your twin quizzically for a moment the first time they meet, and they hold their breath.  

But it seems to go well.  

So your twin spends the day with Kiro at a street fair, sampling all sorts of yummy food. 

Luckily your twin is just like you, a bit of a bottomless pit, so no issues there. 

At the end of the day they come back to his studio, and you surreptitiously let yourself in behind them, contenting yourself with hiding in the coat closet.  He makes “you” a cup of tea. 

A little smirk crosses his face when he sees your twin wrinkle their nose a bit. 

“Have I ever told you about my best friend, MC?” 

What????? No?

“Mmm.  Nope.” Your twin says, smiling at him.  “Tell me all about em though.” 

“Well.”  Kiro stops here, and smiles, gripping his tea tightly, letting it warm his hands. “They’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.  They’re always kind, they love the same things I do, and they’re incredibly brave.”

In the closet, you’re blushing furiously. 

“They can do anything they set their minds to, because they’re so determined,” He says, getting up, and you hear footsteps coming towards the closet.  Oh no!

Your twin jumps up, trying to get in front of him, but the man has long legs, and before they can intercept, Kiro pulls open the door to find you, blushing and with tears in the corner of your eyes.

“And I want them to know how much I love them.” 

You can’t even bother asking how he knew because you’re too busy jumping into his arms, and he picks you up and swings you around, planting little kisses on your face. 

Your twin groans though, hurriedly explaining how it was all their idea, because they wanted to meet him so bad.

“It’s ok, I understand.  But I’d know my MC anywhere, you’ll never be able to fool me!”

You and your twin glance at each other.

Is that a challenge?

[pandawritespoorly]

With Time: Chapter 29 - Lila’s Plan

Author’s Note: Ooh! Bonus chapter! With a bonus scene I quick wrote at end while editing because I couldn't help myself.

Stay tuned for the summary of the next chapter at the bottom!

Chapter Summary: Where was Lila in chapters 27 & 28?

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She’s honestly disappointed in herself that it took so long for her to think of this. Lila had been hoping to find Marinette’s new school ever since the girl had left Dupont, and now Lila had finally realized she’d had the answer since December.

Felix Voclain.

He’d been one of the ones to assist Marinette at the Louvre that day, so it made sense to guess that the two attended the same school.

Already knowing where the boy went, Lila didn’t hesitate to go to the school ‘for a tour’. The class is under the impression she’s in South America or something like that.

She doesn’t really care - the morons can believe whatever they want.

Today is about finding Marinette.

Once in the office, she’s told her student guide will be arriving momentarily.

“Ah, here he is! Claude De Rosier! Claude, this is Lila, you’ll be showing her around today.”

The boy and girl stare at each other blankly. Lila isn’t sure what to think, because she’s sure she’s met him before - twice - but he’d insisted it had only been once, with legitimate proof to back up his claims.

The boy grins, sticking his hand out for her to shake, “Welcome to my school, Lila! I’m so excited to show you around!”

She isn’t sure what to make of his strange emphasis. It’s so slight, she isn’t sure if she imagined it or not.

As they shake, she smiles easily, “Thank you so much! I’m sure you’ll be a great guide!”

“The best!” he winks at her.

As they exit, Lila swears it looks like Claude wipes his hand on his leg. He rubs fingers against his palm a few times - confused - before subtly sniffing it, and frowning slightly. When he notices her glancing his way, he smiles reassuringly and leads her onward.

“Well, if you’re interested in transferring here, I can assure you this is a very welcoming school! There really wasn’t any need to rush out the door!” he takes some hand sanitizer from a dispenser on the wall - a lot more than what would be considered normal. Lila wipes her hand on her leg nervously as she responds.

“What do you mean?” She’d spent extra time on her appearance today. Being attractive helps sell a story more.

“Oh, well I just-” he pauses, looking over her slightly, “It’s nothing! Nevermind! Uh, here’s the math wing…” he hurriedly moves on to describe the current area of the school, commenting on teachers and the different subjects taught.

He is going over the locker arrangements - grade-wise - when he interrupts himself to say, “You know, my locker is close by. I’ve got a hairbrush you can borrow if you want…”

“I- uh- What?” Lila touches her hair self-consciously. It seems fine to her, but she can’t see all of it, “Is there something wrong with my hair?”

“Oh no! I just- nevermind! It’s fine!” he rushes to reassure her, but she can tell he isn’t being entirely truthful. Before she can ask for that hairbrush, he hurriedly moves onto another aspect of the school.

Lila keeps touching her hair, glancing in any reflective surface she could find, but none of them seemed to show her what was off about her.

“Oh! This is the theatre department! I can introduce you to some of my friends.”

The taller boy pushes through a door, holding it open just long enough that she had to catch it as she entered. He runs ahead, seemingly unaware.

“Amy! Victor! I was just showing a student around, and was wondering if we could talk to you!”

Claude has attracted the attention of two students, clearly a few grades above them. They turn to the boy welcomingly, agreeing as they turn to face the touring student.

She could have sworn that she saw recognition - and disgust - flash across their faces, but it’s gone before she gets a good look.

“I told her about that trip the three of us - and some of the other theatre kids - took to England! In December.”

Amy and Victor glance at each other. They went on the trip, as did many others, but Claude? Claude did not. There had been a running joke that ‘Claude was always with them’ to the point that one of the group had jokingly photoshopped Claude into several pictures, but Claude hadn’t actually gone.

He’d stayed home in Paris, especially since one of his friends - Marinette, sweet girl, a shame about the bullying they’d heard about - was going through a rough time. That wasn’t the only reason Cladue had stayed of course, but still. The point stands.

“Oh it really was a blast! We’re a really close group here!”

“Mhm! One big family! London was so fun!”

The pair may not know what’s going on, but they can play along. Amy and Victor both vaguely recognized the girl as someone they disliked, so they don’t have a problem screwing with her.

Lila grows uncomfortable as the boy keeps glancing at her head before correcting himself to make proper eye-contact. The girl seemed startled by some aspect of Lila’s appearance and frowned slightly before covering it up with a too-big smile.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce her! This is Lila Rossi.”

Oh, they most certainly know her. Most people in the school are familiar enough with her. She’s the one that was rumored to have done something to Marinette.

No one is quite sure of any details, but there’s a silent agreement among the school that the only ones allowed to bring up that girl around Marinette are her close friends. All others pretend she doesn’t exist.

Marinette doesn’t seem to have realized she joined a popular friend group. The former-quartet (now quintet?) had been known for being kind people who were fun to hang out with. Marinette had been adopted so quickly, and her nature seemed to be just as good-hearted, which made her just as popular. Not that she seemed to realize it.

When rumors started about bullying people were horrified. Then a name came up. 

Lila Rossi.

The girl who is apparently currently standing in front of them.

Claude’s actions make so much sense now.

“I’m really not much of an actor! I haven’t been able to do much work since the accident…” she trails off, playing melancholy and waiting for the usual sympathy. It never hurts to pull her tricks in a new place.

It doesn’t come. Each person before her seems fixated on whatever they’d been looking at on her earlier.

“Oh! I’m sorry, did you say something?” Amy looks at her apologetically and the others break from their staring to make eye contact, though the older girl has to nudge Victor a little to get his attention.

Lila is really starting to wonder what’s wrong, but she’ll never admit to it. Repeating herself won’t do any good so she changes topics, “I just, uh, was saying that fashion is more my thing! My, uh, friend Marinette might have transferred here I was wondering if you knew her?”

“Nope! I don’t know any Marinettes!” Claude shakes his head regretfully.

Victor shakes his head as well, but Amy speaks up, “There is Marinette Pontbriand, but she’s in the musical arts department, and she’s not a recent transfer…”

“Uh, no. That’s not her. I must have gotten the school name mixed up…”

“Well, it was nice meeting you! We do have to get back to work now though.” Victor says, then he leans in, patting her hand comfortingly and speaking softly, “You’re so brave. It’ll get better I’m sure.”

He turns, and Amy waves. The taller girl pauses and turns back to Lila, similarly leaning in and speaking softly, “We all have those days.” the girl looks over Lila sympathetically, then digs in her bag to subtly hand her a pad and tampon. Amy hurries to join Victor.

What the-?

“Anyways, we should get back to our very important tour!” Claude breaks her out of her confused stupor.

“Y-Yes! Let’s!” She stuffs the period products into her bag and follows the boy. 

---

By the end of the one hour tour, Lila feels shaky and confused. Everyone they spoke to seems to know something she didn’t - and that something had to do with her.

She’s never felt so self-conscious before. It’s driving her crazy, because she has no idea what’s going on. What do they all see?!

She smiles at Claude weakly as she heads out the door.

Lila turns to go home, deciding to not bother with school for the day. 

Once home, she spends hours in front of the mirror, studying herself.

By the end of the day she’s taken 5 showers, washed her hair 3 times, tried ten new makeup routines, washed her clothes twice, and considered three different outfits for school tomorrow.

---

Bonus:

Kid Mime: so

Kid Mime: remember how i was suposed to be leeding a new studnt arownd 2day?

The Mom Friend: yeah? is somthin wrong? r they ok?

Kid Mime: i sure hope not

Kid Mime: it was liela

Melodie: Excuse me?! She has the nerve to come here?? Does she think we’re stupid?? That little brat had better count her lucky stars that I didn’t see her.

The Mom Friend: o goodness wat did u do

Kid Mime: i pretended that there was something wrong with her

Kid Mime: u no

Kid Mime: besides everything else about her

Kid Mime: i had to shake her hand and i made sure she saw me wiping my hand on my leg and using a ridiculus amont of sanitizer

Felix: As you should, after being in contact with her.

Kid Mime: of corse

Kid Mime: anyways i kept suggesting somethign about her lookd weird

Melodie: Besides the sausage hair?

Kid Mime: bsides the sasage hair

Kid Mime: i had her catch every door

Kid Mime: it was almst as satisfin as slaming 1 in her face

Kid Mime: uh

Kid Mime: o!

Kid Mime: teh best part is that as soon as i introducd her to peaple as liela evry1 messed w/ her 2

Kid Mime: i think amy gave her a tampon

The Mom Friend: well mari is a sweetheart 

The Mom Friend: the scool is gunna protect there own

Felix: She has certainly made an impression here. I cannot think of anyone that does not like her.

Melodie: I’m so proud of her. Like, remember when we first met her Claude? She tripped over one of us or something and seemed to think we were going to yell at her, poor baby.

The Mom Friend: 2020 hindsite tho that makes a lot of sense

Kid Mime: she was so quietttttttt

Kid Mime: an it took like a month b4 she actualy hung out w/ us outside of scool

Kid Mime: :((((((

Melodie: She’s doing a lot better.

Felix: Speaking of, how is she now?

The Mom Friend: asleep

Melodie: Rest well, honey!!

---

Author’s Note: Lila, Lila, Lila. You are no match for my baby boy. I really do enjoy this chapter. Showing off my baby boy in a 'fox' v fox chapter.

Anyways, I know why you all stuck around. You want the chapter summary. Well, just so you know, the reason I'm giving it early is because I just love worrying you guys. Here it is: Ladybug goes down during a battle and Adrien can't find a pulse. 💕💕💕

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any thoughts, theories, constructive criticism, or anything really in my ask box, in replies or through reblogs. I love seeing what you think!

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[nickelkeep]

What I Thought I Knew

Pairings: Dean/Cas, minor Jody/Donna Rating: Mature - Language and a small mention of drug use. Word Count: 7500 Warnings: There is a kiss that is of dubious consent, as it comes out of the blue. On Ao3

Dean's elbows deep in the Roadrunner Bobby has him working on when his phone goes off. The ringtone tells him immediately that it's his other boss from his other job, Jody. She knows he works two jobs, and that the garage is the better paying one, but for her to be calling, something big must be going on. Dean makes sure that nothing is going to fall, come loose, or hit him on the head before he wipes his hands on his jeans and reaches into his pocket.

He answers the call, forcing his tone to sound chipper. "Jodio, what's happening?"

"Look, I know you're supposed to be at the shop until 7, but I just lost Benny. Andrea's gone into labor. This is a high-class job; I need one of my high-class guys to fill in."

"Hate to break it to you, Jody, you're not calling the right person for high class." Dean tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder and leans back under the hood. "I'm sure you can get one of the ladies to do it."

"Dean, she requested good looking men," Jody admits, a tone of shame in her voice. "You know I hate pandering to that kind of shit, but–"

"But business has been slow. I get it." He lets out a heavy sigh as he already knows that he's going to regret the next words out of his mouth. "When's it start?"

"Her party starts in fifteen minutes. Foodservice starts in forty-five. I know I'm asking a lot, I'll give you time and a half to make up what you'll lose. I'll call Bobby. Please, Dean."

"Let me get this car safe, so nothing falls out overnight, and I'll head out. Call Bobby; that way, he doesn't yell at me?"

Jody breathes out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Dean. I'll call Bobby now." The call disconnects, and Dean's left wondering what the hell just happened before he pockets his phone and tightens up a couple more nuts.

Dean closes the hood and walks into Bobby's office, where his uncle is on the phone. "You and Donna owe me, Jody. Dean's my best mechanic." Bobby looks up and holds up a finger. "He just walked in. I'm kicking him out to go clean up. He's a greased up hog right now."

"Rude."

"Of course, Jody. I always take bribes in booze and pie." Bobby chuckles. "No, I'm not where Dean gets that from, and even if I were, that makes us cheap dates. Talk to you later." Bobby hangs up his phone and looks at Dean. "You sure you want to go?"

Dean rolls his eyes and throws his rag in the designated hamper. "I'm sure Jody told you the exact opposite."

"'Course she did, ya Idjit. But you're a sucker for her just like I am, just like Donna is." Bobby grabs up a folder and taps it before sliding it into a desk drawer. "Whatcha waitin' for? Get out of here and go be the playboy she needs you to be."

"Got it, Bobby." Dean salutes before turning and walking back out of the office. He stops by his locker to grab his jacket, stopping to wave goodbye to Ash and Garth, and heads out to the Impala.

A quick stop at home to get clean and dress up in his godforsaken monkey suit, and Dean's on his way to the party that Jody's catering. He pulls up to the venue and drives around back to where staff and temporary staff park and hops out of his car, quickly taking the familiar route to the kitchen.

"Not bad, Dean-O." Donna winks at him as he comes around the corner. "Thank you for showing up on such short notice."

"Yeah, yeah. You two know how it works. Booze and Pie." Dean looks around. "Where's Jody?"

As if on cue, Jody strides back into the kitchen, her shoulders tight. She sees Dean and relaxes, if only slightly, before coming in to hug him. "I am so sorry to ask you to do this, Dean." She backs up and straightens his tie. "You know Benny and Andrea weren't expecting the baby for another week or so."

"Yeah, you guys getting updates from them?"

Donna nods. "On the half-hour. You would think he's a first-time parent or something." She laughs at her joke, causing Dean and Jody to laugh with her.

"Dean, I need to warn you. The host is not happy right now." Jody gently pats down the lapels on his waistcoat and looks him in the eye. "Andy's out there doing his best, as are Victor and Aaron, but I need you to up your charm to eleven."

"I can do a pretty sweet Spinal Tap impression." Dean winks at her.

"Screw you, Winchester. You know what I mean."

Dean smiles fondly at her, trying to calm her nerves. "I do. What do I need to know about our host?"

"Bela Talbot. Heiress to the Talbot Estate. They're a huge shipping conglomerate." Jody leans in. "Rumor that the boys have heard is that she's supposed to be looking for a husband tonight. Otherwise, she doesn't get her share of the fortune."

"Doesn't explain why she wants good looking men tonight."

"She wants to show off her wealth, sweetie." Donna pipes up. "I have more charm in my pinky. So she figures money will get her a catch."

Jody picks up a tray filled with their famous crab puffs and hands it to Dean. "This way, you won't snack while you walk around." She pats his shoulder. "Just use that charm you use when you go to the bar, and who knows, maybe she'll find appeal in the lower people."

"Yeah, ok." Dean snorts. He gives Jody and Donna a salute before pushing open the double doors to exit the kitchen. As he walks down the hallway that connects to the ballroom, he can already hear the high priced sounds of an overpaid DJ, the technobabble of the music not to his taste.

Dean's eyebrows raise at all the people milling around. Jody's crew has done numerous parties here, but never to a crowd this large. He takes in a deep breath and plasters on his best fake smile before weaving into the group with his tray.

He gets about halfway through the room before his tray is picked clean, and he sets it down at his side, indicating that he's empty. Dean hasn't even spotted the rest of the crew and wonders if he's ever going to get a chance to find them when a sharp poke on his shoulder causes him to wince and turn around.

"Just where do you think you're going?" The cold British accent demands.

"Back to the kitchen to get a fresh tray of hors d'oeurves, ma'am." He smiles and bows his head slightly. "I'll be right back."

"I didn't say you could leave the floor." The brunette looks him up and down. "Who are you? You didn't come in with the original crew."

"I'm one of the waiters for the catering crew. I wasn't scheduled to work, but I came in last minute to cover for a coworker." Dean tilts his head slightly in confusion. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get a chance to look over the guest list. Who are you?"

The woman in front of him scoffs, and her eyes turn dark with anger. "You think I'm a guest?" She squares her shoulders and pushes into Dean's personal space. "I'm the person paying your paycheck right now."

"My apologies, Miss Talbot." Dean nods his head in apology. "Descriptions don't give your beauty justice."

"Wiseass." Bela grabs him by the tie and pulls him down to her level. "You're late to my party, you insult me, and then think you can worm your way out of it with a fake affection?" She stares at him, her eyes shooting daggers. "You are a worm, and you should be grateful that I'm even allowing you to stay."

Dean's lips press into a firm, hard-line. "Again, my apologies."

"Your boss will hear of this insolence." Bela slowly eyes him up and down. "Good thing you're pretty, I'd have you escorted off the premises now." She turns and walks away, stopping to look over her shoulder. "When you do come back to the floor, do bring more of those crab puffs, and find me immediately." She waves Dean off and focuses her attention on another gentleman.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns to go back to the kitchen when his eyes lock on a guy across the room. He has dark, messy hair and eyes that cannot possibly be so blue. He stares for a moment, ripping his eyes away only when he realizes the other guy has caught him staring. Dean blushes and rushes back into the kitchen.

"Jody, how long are we supposed to be here for?" Andy's leaning on one of the prep tables when Dean gets back in the kitchen. "Cause I swear on Nietzsche's grave, I will go batshit if my ass gets grabbed again."

"At least you didn't accidentally ask the Host who she is." Dean set his tray in front of Donna. "Request for more of the crab bites from the bitch herself."

Jody looks back and forth between the two before looking at Donna. "I'm sorry, guys." She starts to say something when Aaron walks back in and slams his tray on the table.

"Whoever said that Satan was evil, has not met that woman." Aaron walks over to Dean and greets him. "Sorry you're here, dude, but I am glad to see you."

"He didn't stand a chance either, Aaron." Andy looks over. "I failed, you failed, and Dean failed."

"Victor hasn't come back yet, you know." Donna starts placing crab puffs on Dean's tray. "Maybe he's had some luck."

Jody points at Donna as Victor walks back into the kitchen, a smug smile on his face. "What canary did you eat, Vic?"

"I have gotten the phone numbers of several extremely attractive ladies." He reaches into his waistcoat pocket and pulls out four pieces of paper. "And one decent looking guy, not my type, though." He hands the slip to Dean, who slaps it away.

"I'm here to work, dumbass." Dean rolls his eyes. "Has the Queen Bee not gotten to you yet?"

"Nope." Victor grabs Dean's tray and walks towards the door. "I see her coming, and I keep walking."

Dean looks at the prep table then looks at Victor before flipping him off. "That's my tray!"

"Dean, take this one." Donna slides one with meatballs on it over to him. "Remember, that bitch was looking for the crab puffs. She'll go after him." Donna winks at Dean, who lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Guys, I promise I will make this up to you. We're here for another two hours. Smiles, flirt, be eye candy for the ladies, cause let's face it, she wants the male attention on her, and if her female guests are staring at you.."

Dean, Aaron, and Andy all grumble in agreement, and Dean heads back out to the ballroom.

"Dean!" Jody calls out after him. "Don't spill anything on Miss Talbot!"

Back in the multitude of the crowd, Dean expertly weaves his way through the groups of people, stopping briefly to allow them to grab a meatball or two off of his tray. He keeps his best crowd-pleasing smile on, and a few of the ladies do start to flirt with him.

Like Victor, he ends up with a couple of their numbers shoved into his pocket. He smiles at each lady despite feeling dirtier each time he's looked at, talked to, or even pawed on. He looks toward the kitchen, finding a clear path and turns to head back, needing a moment away from the idiots on the floor.

As Dean gets nearer to the kitchen, he's stopped by a very gentle tap on the arm. He turns around to present the tray, and he comes face to face with the blue-eyed guy from earlier. Dean sucks in a breath and takes him in for a moment, now that he can see him up close and personal.

Blue-eyes is wearing an AC/DC shirt underneath a well-fitting blazer, and a nicely tight-cut pair of slacks. The eyes that were insanely blue from a distance are even more spectacular and otherworldly. Dean has to rip his eyes away to focus on making words.

"These are Rosemary Thyme... uh," Dean stumbles over his words slightly. "Sorry. These are balsamic glazed, Rosemary and Thyme meatballs, made from lamb and pork."

Blue-eyes smiles at Dean, and Dean nearly melts on the spot. "Delicious." The stranger grabs one by the toothpick and pops it into his mouth, Dean watching it intently. "The meatball was good too."

Dean swallows hard before feeling a shove knocking him back. "I'm so sorry, is the kitchen staff bothering you?"

Bela.

"Shall we go somewhere more quiet to talk?" Bela slides her arm into Blue-eyes' and pulls him away, bringing Dean back to reality.

Dean stops in the kitchen and drops off his tray, telling Donna that he needs a minute, and to fill it back up while he takes a quick break. He peeks back out the double doors and heads towards the restroom, hugging tightly to the wall to not be stopped by someone looking for staff.

He slides into the restroom without a hitch and takes a moment to look himself over in the mirror. Dean knew that when he told Jody yes that this would be a rough night. He turns the cold water on and splashes his face, trying to relieve the redness and the puffiness starting to form around his eyes.

Dean grabs a towel from the dispenser and dries his face, taking another look in the mirror. "You're nothing to these people, Dean," he whispers to the mirror. The door to the bathroom opens, and he jumps, figuring that the guests would have the main one at the front of the venue.

"I thought I saw you sneak in here." The deep, gravelly voice that had managed to rattle him in six words, cause him to look up. "I apologize for Bela's behavior. She's quite rude and off-putting."

"She had you wrapped around her finger easy enough, though."

Blue-eyes nods. "It would appear that way, yes. Trust me when I say that I was caught off guard as much as you were."

"I don't know you to trust you, Buddy." Dean finishes drying off his hands and throws the paper towel into the trash. "So, forgive me if I'll pass." Dean attempts to walk past Blue-eyes when that same gentle touch catches his arm.

"Please, let me show you? I want nothing more than to make up for Bela's idiocy and poor manners."

Dean shakes his head and, despite not wanting to, tugs his arm back. "That's up to her to correct. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. Us little people can't keep the rest of you waiting, can we?" He walks out of the bathroom and hightails it back to the kitchen."Your tray is ready, Big D." Donna nods towards the tray sitting in front of her. "All fresh. The rest are on a plate over there for you and the boys to snack on."

"I can't."

"Dean?" Jody walks out of the small office to the side after hearing Dean's assertion. "What happened?"

"It's too much, ok?" Dean looks at Donna. "I'm sorry, Donna, but can you please take this tray? I'll take over prep for a bit. Then I should be ok to go."

Donna starts to nod, but Jody holds her hand up. "Nuh-uh, Winchester. You don't get like this. You look like a caged animal right now. What happened?"

"They're drinking more, and they're getting worse. I wouldn't be surprised when Aaron and Andy come back if they say they're done." Dean reaches into the pockets of his waistcoat, and then his back pocket. He drops several crumbled pieces of paper on the prep table. "They're handsy; they're not respecting personal space." He runs his fingers through his hair. "For fuck's sake, Jody, I was talking to a guest about the meatballs, and that Bela Bitch practically tackled me cause it was a guy that she's clearly marked for herself."

"She did what?" Jody's eyes light up in anger. "I believe you 100%, but please tell me who saw it."

Dean looks at Donna, who shakes her head and points at Jody. "The guy who she grabbed and pulled away from me after she shoved me. He's about my height, messy dark hair, blue eyes." Dean pauses, hoping that's enough from him, but Jody gestures for him to continue. "He's wearing an AC/DC shirt under a blazer. He's the only guy I saw doing something like that. Most of them are trussed up."

"Got it. You two stay here. I'm sending the rest of the boys back." Jody turns and heads out to find Dean's mystery blue-eyed guy.

Donna pats the stool next to her. "Come here, Dean." She waits until she's seated next to him and hands him a spinach puff. "Don't worry, seafood free." She smiles at him."I know this has been a shit night for you and the rest of the guys. Jody's been back here, dotting her Is and crossing her Ts to make sure Bela can't hire anyone from the area again."

"Good lot that does to help us." Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the prep table. "Bela finds that out, she'll deny payment."

"Hence why–" Donna's cut off by Andy and Victor entering the kitchen. "Aaron behind you two?"

Victor nods. "I think so. Jody got to us first." He set his tray down on the table and sat down across from Dean. "What's going on?"

"The big bitch shoved Dean here." Donna moves to start packing up the remaining ingredients. "She's just collaborating his story to cover our asses, and then we're getting out of here."

"Seriously?" Andy perks up and walks over to Donna. "What can I do to help?"

Donna laughs and shows Andy items to pack up. While they work on cleaning up, Aaron bounds into the kitchen. "Jody says she's giving us a five-minute head start. Something about confirmation that Dean was attacked?"

"You two just going to stand there?" Donna snaps at Victor and Dean. "You too, Aaron, she wants us to pack up the van to haul ass out of here. She doesn't think Bela's going to take it well when we bail."

The boys quickly help Donna break down and pack up their gear. As they're about halfway through, Jody enters the kitchen with a massive grin on her face. "Ready to go?"

...

A week later, Dean meets up at Jody and Donna's to pick up his paycheck. Jody greets him happily and brings him into their kitchen to enjoy one of Donna's pies while they chat about the party.

"We haven't had any issue. We didn't charge her for the last hour of the event. But, we still charged her for all the ingredients and the setup and breakdown fees." Jody sets a beer in front of Dean. "She's paid for everything we've asked."

"How the hell did that happen?" Dean asks, gratefully sipping the beer.

Donna sits across the table from Dean, chuckling. "You and I both know Jodes has a way with words."

"So, why am I sitting here and why you two look like you're buttering me up?" Dean looks back and forth between the two. "Are you letting me go?"

"No." Jody rolls her eyes. "We have another gig, and we want you there. I already cleared the date with Bobby, but he said to make sure you want to work it first."

"And we could really, really use you. It's another big-name client." Donna adds.

Dean drains his beer and shakes his head. "Call me when it's a small wedding or something."

"Dean, they offered three times our normal rate." Jody advertised. "Including bonuses for any staff we bring. That could be the last bit you need to pay for Sam's last year at school."

"I don't like being treated like shit or an object, Jody."

"And you won't be," Donna affirms. "The person who hired us? They have a full security detail. We're catering at their house, and they won't hesitate to kick out anyone. They promised us."

Jody nods in agreement. "We let them know our concerns."

"Come on, Big D!" Donna leans across the table and playfully punches Dean in the shoulder. "We need you."

The next week, Dean shows up to the "house" following the directions Jody and Donna gave him. He pulls up, and a friendly staff member tells him where he can park as a member of the Catering Staff. He pulls into a spot behind the mansion and is quickly shown the way to the kitchens.

Andy's already helping Donna fill the first tray, and Jody is excitedly talking on the phone to someone. Jody sees Dean and smiles, holding up her finger. "Alright, Benny. Take care, give Andrea all our love and kisses to the little bean!" She hangs up the phone. "Alright, you two are my only servers tonight. There are only about 40 people here per our host."

"Yeah, who is this host?" Andy looks up from the tray he's loading. "Neither of you have said anything."

"It's the Philanthropist, Castiel Novak!" Jody is practically vibrating, and Donna lovingly rolls her eyes. When the guys don't share her enthusiasm, she frowns. "Really, you two?"

"Not much of a philanthropist if Dean nor I have heard of him." Andy winks at Donna.

"Dean? You don't know who he is?" Jody's face drops in shock. "Are you two serious?"

Dean shakes his head, confirming Andy's statement. "I have no idea who this dude is."

"Uh-huh." Jody crosses her arms over her chest. "Well then, you're in for a pleasant surprise, Dean."

"I don't like surprises, Jodes." Dean looks at Donna. "Anything I can do to help get ready?"

Donna pushes a tray at Dean. "Nope. You can start serving. That'll be Andy's tray if he stops eating every other one." Donna swats at Andy's hand.

"Show me the way, Jody?" Dean gestures toward the kitchen exit before picking up his tray and following.

"Dean?" Jody stops him before he walks out to the main room. She fixes his tie and straightens his lapels. "Thank you for coming. I know how hesitant you were." She leans up and kisses his cheek. "Award-winning smile, okay?"

Dean nods and heads out to the guests, plastering on the smile Jody requested. He weaves his way among them and finds them strangely friendly and pleasant. His tray clears out quickly, and no one is rude to him or yells at him for being out of hors d'oeuvres.

As he makes his way back to the kitchen, a fiery redhead catches his attention and waves. He holds his tray up to show that it's empty, and she shakes her head and laughs, excusing herself through the crowd. "Hi, sorry, didn't mean to confuse there. I'm Charlie. Charlie Bradbury."

"Not to be mean, but I have no idea if that's supposed to mean something?" Dean grimaces at the fact that he has to admit that he doesn't know who she is, and reminds himself to grab a guest sheet from Jody if she has one.

"Oh please, if you know who I am, I've screwed up royally." Charlie smiles, and Dean finds himself smiling despite himself. "Just checking in. Everything ok with you and the rest of your team?"

Dean looks around the room before looking back at Charlie. "It's not my team. The company is Jody's and Donna's second-in-command." He holds the tray across his chest. "Why do you ask?"

"I know that, Dean. Just making sure no one is harassing you or Andy." She smiles and winks.

"I know for a fact that I didn't tell you my name."

Charlie winks again, exaggerating it this time. "And you didn't have to. I'm Castiel's head of security. I know everyone's face, name, favorite color. No one gets in here without me knowing who they are."

"My favorite color?" Dean questions skeptically.

"Green. Although you're also partial to purple." She snaps and points at Dean.

Dean looks around again. "Am I on Candid Camera?"

"Nope, I'm just very good at my job." Charlie gestures towards the kitchen. "Let's get that tray refilled. I've heard amazing things about the spinach puffs you guys make."

"So, uh. Can I ask you a question?" Dean looks over to Charlie as they walk back towards the kitchen. "Who is your boss?"

"Cas?" Charlie pauses for a moment. "He's an amazing, down to earth guy. He was born into dirty money but did everything to turn it around and make it clean. Cas gives away most of his profits to charity each year, and he doesn't brag about it. Most of the things he does, you wouldn't know unless you follow who he assists."

The pair enters the kitchen, and Dean sets his tray in front of Donna. "Request for the spinach puffs, D-Train."

Donna nods. "I see you met Charlie."

"Just met, actually." Charlie smiles. "If I can just steal a couple of puffs for myself, you can put whatever you want on that tray."

"Consider it done." Donna places a few on a plate and slides them over to Charlie.

"Thank you!" Charlie takes a bite and moans happily. "These are freaking delicious. No wonder Castiel wanted you guys for this!" She finishes the puff and looks back at Dean. "So, two jobs, right? You work at Singer Auto Shop full time, and then help out Jody and Donna when they need servers?"

"Did you run full background checks!?"

"Yes!" Donna and Jody reply before Charlie can.

Charlie nods in confirmation. "What they said. I'm just a little more in-depth."

"So, why am I getting the third degree if you already know what my answers are?" Dean crosses his arms over his chest.

"Gotta protect my best friend." Charlie shrugs. A voice calls from the main room, and her head snaps to attention. "That would be Castiel's entrance. Gods know how much he hates them, but when he runs charity events like this, the board insists that he has an entrance." She points to the tray. "Grab that and come on."

Dean grabs the tray and follows Charlie back out to join the guests. He stands ready with his tray and looks over at the stairs where everyone is watching.

It takes all of his willpower not to drop his tray.

Castiel Novak is Blue-eyes.

Dean rolls his eyes and walks back to the kitchen, not waiting for Castiel to walk down the stairs fully.

"Dean?" Donna looks up from the pastries she's prepping. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Jody?" Dean asks, a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"I'm right here." Jody steps back into the kitchen and next to Donna. "What's wrong?"

"You knew." He points at her. "You knew the entire time who Castiel is. You knew he was the reason I was treated like shit at the last event." Dean shook his head. "Jody. We've been friends for years. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

Jody looks at Donna, who shakes her head in return and goes back to prepping the pastries. "Because I knew you wouldn't come. Several witnesses came to your defense at the last event, Dean. And they all said the same thing. You and Castiel were flirting. Which is why I was surprised you said you didn't know who he is."

"Jody." Dean shakes his head and looks down at the floor. "I need a few. Take my tray, please?"

Jody nods and takes the tray out to the guests, passing Andy on her way out. He sets his tray in front of Donna and smirks. "How'd you two get the boss lady to serve?"

"Not right now, Andy." Donna frowns and slightly nods her head towards Dean.

"Dean-O?" Andy takes Donna's hint and crosses over to Dean. "You alright there?"

"No."

"Me neither then." He looks over his shoulder at Donna. "We're going for a smoke. I'll be back before my tray's ready."

"Neither one of you smoke." Donna raises her eyebrow curiously but amends her statement when Andy shoots her a look. "I mean, of course. You've got like 5 minutes."

Andy gives her a thumbs up and leads Dean out the backdoor. "What's going on, Dude?"

"You saw Castiel?" Dean waits until Andy confirms that he did. "Did he not look familiar to you?"

"Should he?" Andy hopped up on a retaining wall and patted for Dean to sit next to him.

"Dude, he was at the event two weeks ago."

Andy laughed, "No offense Dean, but do you know how many dates I've had with Moby Bong since that shit show?" When Dean doesn't answer, Andy continues. "I take it he's one of the assholes that treated you like shit?"

"More like the opposite." Dean ran his fingers through his hair. "He was nice to me, and he flirted."

"Dude, go flirt back then! Sugar Daddy for Dean!" Andy nudges Dean with his elbow playfully.

"No," Dean answers quickly. "Nothing would come from it."

Andy sighs and looks at Dean. "You know, back when we dated, I used to think I didn't deserve Tracey."

"Okay?"

"That wasn't my decision to make. It was hers. And in the long run? My insecurities chased her off." Andy claps Dean on the shoulder. "And I still fucking miss her, Dean. Get over yourself and let someone else tell you what they think of you."

Dean brushes Andy's hand off his shoulder and hops down off the wall. "Go get your tray from Donna, and if Jody's done with mine, tell her I'll be back in a few. I'm hitting the head."

"You don't want to admit I'm right, fine, Dean." Andy pushes off the wall and follows Dean back to the house. "But don't fuck up like I did. I'm trying now, and it's a hell of a difference." He points down a hallway once they get back inside. "Staff facilities are down there. What kind of house has a locker room for staff?"

"Rich people houses." Dean turns and heads down the hallway, pushing on the door marked for staff.

He quickly goes to the bathroom, before finding himself standing in front of the mirror again. "This fucking Deja vu." He washes his hands and splashes the cold water on his face. As he dries his hands and face, the door opens, with Castiel walking in.

Dean manages not to roll his eyes to the back of his head, keeping his focus on the sink.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel takes a few steps in and stops at the edge of the row of sinks. When Dean doesn't respond, he takes another step closer. "Enjoying the party so far?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Not much to enjoy at a party when you have to work."

"Dean?" Castiel risks another step closer. "Talk to me, are you ok?"

"Yeah, I'm freaking awesome." Dean grips the edge of the sink and keeps his eyes down.

"You're not awesome. What's wrong?"

Dean closes his eyes at Castiel's voice, the question sounding unfairly innocent coming from him. "Nada. Just trying to remember why I like this job."

"You don't like it now?" Castiel takes another step closer. "Why?"

"Honestly?" Dean looks up and looks at himself in the mirror, trying desperately to not look at Castiel. "I don't like who we cater to."

"Do you mean cater as in what your actual job description is, or do you mean catering as in appeasing?" Cas leans back against the sink, the warmth of his skin threatening ea closer proximity to Dean.

"I just don't like the people who see me as a servant."

Dean watches as Cas nods. "You mean people like me."

"Yeah, Castiel. People just like you."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Dean watches in the mirror as Cas turns to look at him. "What exactly did I do to deserve your ire?"

Dean stands up and looks Castiel in the eyes. "You're just like the rest of them. You hide behind the fact that you can add 'philanthropist' to your abundant list of titles."

"You never even gave me a chance, Dean." Castiel steps closer to Dean. "You don't know me. I am a nice guy." His eyes flick down to Dean's lips. "I wanted to kiss you, the last time I saw you." Castiel looks back at Dean. "But, I didn't."

"What? Why are–"

"Because that would have been weird." Castiel steps into Dean's personal space, pushing him back against the wall. His lips lock on to Dean's, binding them in a fluster of confusion, want, and need. Castiel grabs Dean's hips and pulls them closer together, causing Dean to whimper involuntarily.

Dean pulls himself together long enough to push Castiel off of him. "Stop." He shakes his head. "You don't want this. You don't want me." The door opens, and Dean takes the opportunity to leave.

He moves quickly past Donna and finds Jody in the kitchen. "I'm sorry. You don't have to pay me. But I'm leaving." Dean rushes out the back door and hops into the Impala, taking off and heading back home.

Dean pulls into his apartment complex and heads inside, grabbing a beer. His phone keeps ringing and vibrating, phone calls, and text messages that he chooses to ignore.

Dean's thoughts are barreling down an unknown track at hundreds of miles per hour. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want that kiss. Castiel has been on his mind since that night at Bela's party. At the same time, he's unsure as to what the kiss means. Did Castiel see him as all the other people had at that party? Was he just another object to be used and tossed away when he no longer had a purpose?

Against his better judgment, Dean grabs his laptop and sits on his sofa. His cell phone rang for the umpteenth time, and he shut it off completely. Dean loaded up Google and started the search to find out what he could about Castiel.

Some point during his research, Dean must have fallen asleep as he wakes up to a knock on his door. He stands up and quietly walks over and looks out the peephole. The redhead, Castiel's head of security, is standing outside on his stoop. He closes his eyes, trying to recall her name, when she knocks on the door again.

"Dean, can you please open up? It's Charlie. I know you're home." Dean quietly thanks her for calling out for him and looks through the peephole again. She appears to be upset, genuinely concerned, and he gives in.

"Is it just you?" He asks, hoping he doesn't regret this decision.

"One hundred percent just me, Dean." She pauses. "Please, can I talk to you?"

Dean opens the door and lets Charlie in. "Come in." He closes the door after she enters. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"I love it." Charlie smiles at him as she walks into the living room. "Harrison Ford fan?" She points to the framed Indiana Jones movie posters.

Dean nods, unsure of what to say.

"This feels like a home. Cas and I never feel at home back at his place." Charlie looks at Dean. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Red?" Dean slowly sits back down on the sofa and closes his laptop, remembering what he was doing on it.

"I already knew you were Googling him." Charlie raises her eyebrow. "I have a program that catches when his name whenever someone searches for him." She points next to Dean. "May I?" She waits until Dean nods before sitting next to him. "There was a huge miscommunication somewhere, and I don't know where it was. It's my fault that Cas is hurting, and you're upset."

"Your fault?" Dean shakes his head. "How the hell did you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm the reason Cas had the party. And the reason you guys were the catered staff." Charlie hangs her head. "He told me that he met the most incredible man at Talbot's party. Which, how he managed to even get away from Bela for ten seconds, surprises me."

"So, you assumed the guy was me?"

"The guy is you, Dean. Castiel is furious with me because I meddled." She looks around the living room before settling her eyes back on Dean. "Cas and I have been best friends since high school. He hated his family name. What did I tell you back at his house? You can Google that."

Dean nods. "I did. I saw it. His family doesn't appear to be very nice people."

"Cas managed to stay clear of all the drama because he has a conscience." Charlie starts playing with a strand of her hair. "He's never done anything for himself. To hear him say that there was someone he was interested in? Dean, those words have never come out of his mouth.

"I didn't realize how limited an interaction you two had. I guess romantic me thought you two talked late into the party, and like Cinderella, you had to run."

Dean laughs. "Why does everyone assume I'm a freaking princess?"

"It's not an insult. Just remember, a princess becomes queen. The queen is the strongest piece on the board." Charlie pauses to let that sink in then inhales deeply. "I told your boss that you had to be part of the staff. If she could get you on board, we'd give a bonus to each staff member."

"You can just throw away Castiel's money like that?"

"It's not throwing it away if it goes to a Mom and Mom business who needs it. Or to their staff. Cas agrees with me on that completely." Charlie crosses her arms. "The catch was, you weren't supposed to know who the client was until you got on site."

"So, Castiel, in the bathroom?"

Charlie frowns. "Thought you were at the party because you wanted to see him again."

"So..." Dean nods, running through his question in his mind. "Is he actually interested in me?"

"Dean, I swear to the gods. If I had to hear about you one more time over the past two weeks, I was going to strangle him myself." She looks at Dean. "I'm here to ask you for another chance since I screwed his up."

"Even after what happened?"

Charlie nods. "He's not mad with you. He's mad at the situation, and he's mad that I exacerbated it. He wants to get to know you."

Dean stands up and starts pacing. "Look, let's say I believe you. Let's say that Cas wants that."

"He does!" Charlie protests before being hushed by Dean.

"Hold on. Why me? We are worlds apart." Dean crosses his arms and looks at the petite woman on his couch. "He can have anyone and anything he wants. He only needs to snap his fingers."

"He wants a person who can keep him grounded. Who can call him out when his head is in the clouds. He may have turned his family's crap into gold, Dean, but he's still a rich kid who just wants someone to love him for him." She opens her mouth to say more but stops herself. "There are things you need to learn about him, from him."Dean sits down in a chair and looks at Charlie. "Did he send you?"

"No." Charlie pulls out her phone, unlocks it, and sets it down in front of Dean. "When we figured out what happened, when I came clean, he yelled at me to get out." She points to the phone. "He's been trying to get ahold of me to come home. Cas doesn't know I'm here."

Dean picks up the phone and swipes through. Unless they're acting, which he doubts, Castiel has texted her for the past forty-five minutes, asking her to respond or to at least come home. He hands the phone back to Charlie. "So what do you suggest? What's your plan to make it right."

"Really?" Charlie's eyes light up, and she looks as though a weight has lifted off her shoulders. She leans forward, and together the two of them start planning.

...

A few nights later, Dean is sitting in a booth by himself at his favorite place to eat, The Roadhouse. He may be a little biased since Ellen is his aunt, but free beer and amazing cheeseburgers go a long way when you're broke. Dean takes another look at his phone and takes a deep breath. He should have company joining him at any moment.

The chime to the front door rings and he can hear Charlie. "You said anywhere, Cas. I'm choosing here. I've heard they have the best burgers in town."

"It looks like the burgers will be good." Dean hears Castiel's voice, and it's almost like hearing it for the first time. "It's got that feeling of good, homecooked food."

"Well, I guess we'll have to find out," Charlie replies, a little too loudly and a little too stiffly, almost causing Dean to lose it in laughter.

Dean slides out of his seat, and turns to the entrance, finding a suddenly surprised Castiel, his head whipping back and forth between Charlie and Dean.

"You're here?" Castiel's head tilts in confusion. "I would have figured you hated me."

"You have a highly convincing wingwoman as your best friend there, Cas." Dean nods towards Charlie.

"You did cheat at poker." Cas points at Charlie, accusing her.

The redhead shrugs. "I needed to make sure I won, so you would let me choose where to eat." She winks at Dean. "That being said, I have places to be, so catch you bitches later." Charlie flashes a peace sign and exits the Roadhouse.

"Care to join me?" Dean points to his booth.

"You want me here?" Cas looks at Dean cautiously. "We didn't part on good terms."

"We had no terms, Cas." Dean stops. "Is it ok if I call you Cas?"

Cas nods slowly and walks to the table. "It's always been Charlie's nickname for me. But if she's ok with you using it, I prefer it." He sits on the other side of the booth. "Can I ask why here?"

"Why here, as in why I picked here for our first date?" Dean smiles as Cas' jaw drops. "Because the first two times, we were in your world. There was decadence, and there was opulence." Dean sits down and slides to be across from Cas. "I might dress up pretty, but that ain't me. If you want me like you say you do. If you actually want to know me?" Dean gestures around. "This is my world, Cas."

"That's not me–" Cas stops himself. "Anyway I phrase it, I'm probably going to shove my foot in my mouth." His mouth quirks up in an apologetic smile. "Tell me more about you, Dean? Tell me something that one of Charlie's background checks wouldn't tell me."

Dean snorts in laughter. "Your girl is creepy. Like, I've enjoyed getting to know her, but damn. She knows my favorite color, and I never told her. I wouldn't know what you found out."

"She's good at what she does." Cas agrees easily. He pauses, his finger tapping on his lips. "You said you gave me a second chance because of her. But there has to be more to it than that."

"You want to know?" Cas nods, and Dean continues. "It was what Charlie said, something my friend Andy said, and one other thing."

"What did they say?"

Dean leans forward towards Cas. "Charlie admitted fault and explained to me that you are a good person who wants someone to like you for you, and maybe love you for you." Dean takes a deep, calming breath. "Andy said it's not up to me if someone likes me or not."

"Charlie, while an over-sharer, is not wrong, and your friend Andy sounds very wise." Cas offers his hand.

"Don't let Andy hear you say that. He already has an inflated ego." Dean takes Cas's hand and squeezes lightly.

Cas tilts his head. "So, what's the third thing?"

Dean pushes himself forward, his mouth catching Cas' by surprise. He lets himself melt into the kiss, the feeling of electricity shooting through him just as it did at Cas' house. His hand wraps around the back of Cas' head, locking them together. When Dean pulls back for air, his fingers run through Cas' thick locks. Dean smiles at Cas. "I wanted to see your face when I surprised you with that kiss."

Cas blushes and smiles at Dean. "I look forward to getting to know you. Correctly this time.”