#but then unexpectedly finding more beauty because she brings color to the whole place

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC's Lucien Touching Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

I tenderly kiss his lips, the sensation of his warmth and trembles reminiscent of fluttering butterfly wings.

So clear and yet so real, distant yet within arm's reach.

Translation under the cut!

The sun shines warmly on me, but the worries in my heart do not dissipate. I sigh and roll myself further into the blanket.

[T/N: I really recommend following along the voice acting for complete experience!!!🥹 the whole thing just sounds so incredibly tender. Here's the CN Video link]

I bury my face in the blanket and take a deep breath.

Suddenly, a pair of hands stopped my movements. Lucien's scent mixed with moist warmth invades my nostrils. Along with it, there's a trace of laughter.

Lucien: Has this 'kid' who's wrapped herself up encountered something troubling?

Seeing him gently tuck my disheveled hair behind my ear as he spoke, I let out a soft sigh, gazing into those deep dark eyes.

MC: Do you still remember the visual design course I took before?

MC: The teacher wants to organize an art exhibition with the theme "Touching Beauty".

MC: The artwork I'm preparing is a photo and video series titled "Fledglings Caring for Their Parents".

I open my phone and hand over the backup to Lucien. He takes it and examines it carefully.

MC: In order to capture this moment with the nesting birds, I had the camera set up for almost half a month before finally getting the shot.

Lucien: Hmm... it's evident that our 'photographer' has put a lot of thought and effort into this.

Lucien: From the photo's results, I think it's quite good. Is there any problem with it?

I pat my face to refresh myself, noticing him soothingly stroking my hair, and can't help but sigh again.

MC: Sigh, I was really looking forward to it.

MC: But when I looked at the finished product, I realized I couldn't find that initial "touching feeling" I had in mind!

Lucien tilts his head, supporting his chin, and looks at me with half-dried hair strands hanging in front of his forehead, his eyes shining brightly.

Lucien: Well, why don't you go ahead and tell me, what does "touching" mean to you?

MC: I think... it should be emotions that can be felt by most people from things like family love, life, and nature, and so on.

MC: Then, I had a sudden inspiration and came up with this picture.

MC: The act of young birds feeding their parents not only reflects the continuation of life but also represents family love. It's truly touching people's hearts~

MC: But I didn't expect that when the final film came out, I couldn't seem to feel anything…

I lean dejectedly against Lucien's shoulder, and he naturally pulls me into his embrace, taking my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Lucien: What you're saying indeed falls within that category.

Lucien: But MC, have you ever considered that…

Lucien: Perhaps, the purpose of the teacher assigning this topic isn't to have you search for what most people feel, but rather to encourage you to express your own perception.

MC: My own perception?

I feel momentarily confused, and I rub my tired and sore eyes. Just as I'm about to continue thinking, a pair of hands cover my forehead, gently massaging my temples.

Lucien: (gently) We can leave this question for tomorrow to contemplate.

He bends down and gently kisses my forehead, his kiss tender and affectionate, then hugs me as we lie down.

Lucien: It's getting late now. It's time for us to sleep.

—-------------------------------------------------------

A gentle breeze brushes by, lifting the curtains quietly, and sunlight filters through the gaps, creating patches of light on the floor.

I contemplate the next steps of the filming plan absentmindedly, twirling the pen in my hand repeatedly, yet no new ideas are emerging.

When I'm at a loss, Lucien sits down beside me with a visual portfolio in hand.

Lucien: I just received a phone call. The cultural park that the research institute collaborates with in the neighboring city needs me to handle some matters today.

Lucien: Perhaps Miss Producer would like to accompany me?

MC: Of course, I'd be willing to. But, wouldn't it delay your work?

Lucien: It's just some simple matters to take care of. We can spend the rest of the time strolling around the park.

...Unable to come up with a plan for the moment, I think it might be a good idea to go on a trip to relax and unwind. With that in mind, I agree right away.

Just as we are about to set off, my phone suddenly rings. I cast a helpless glance at Lucien and step aside to answer Kiki's call.

—-------------------------------------------------------

After dealing with the unexpected work situation, I was shocked when I suddenly realized that half an hour had passed.

It seems like he heard the sound of me finishing work, and Lucien sets down the book in his hand to look at me.

I rub my temples and smile apologetically.

MC: I didn't expect it to take this long. Is it still possible to leave now?

He glances at his watch, pursing his lips with a hint of seriousness.

Lucien: It's indeed a bit late.

MC: I'm sorry... I…

I'm contemplating how to make amends when he suddenly smiles and takes my hand.

Lucien: But don't worry, we can take a special shortcut.

MC: Hmm? What…

Before I can finish my sentence, he leans in and embraces me, his pleasant grass scent instantly enveloping me.

MC: Pfft, what kind of special shortcut involves a hug?

Lucien: Not only does it require a hug, but it needs to be a tighter one. Though a bit puzzled, I still gently squeeze him, allowing myself to be fully enveloped in his embrace

Feeling my movement, he chuckles softly. The next moment, a refreshing breeze brushes against our skin, and the air carries a hint of moisture.

Lucien: We've arrived.

Lucien's clear voice rings in my ears, and I freeze for a moment before lifting my head.

The architecture before my eyes displays soft and elegant colors. Not far away, there's a well-designed bridge over flowing water, and further beyond are houses that are both elegant and innovative.

I look at Lucien and see him smiling leisurely, and only then do I realize what's going on.

MC: Professor Lucien, you didn't plan this from the beginning, did you?

Lucien: [chuckles] I'm just more adept at achieving the results I want in various ways.

Lucien: However, to better achieve our goals, sometimes it's necessary to make use of certain privileges.

With a playful glint in his eyes, he intertwines his fingers with mine and leads the way towards the pond.

Lucien: You have no business to attend to, so let's take our time and enjoy the scenery along the way. Even if something unexpected happens, it won't disrupt our planned outing.

The koi fish are joyfully swaying their tails, creating layer upon layer of ripples on the water's surface. The emerald green lotus leaves have become their best refuge from the sunlight.

As I lean in closer to the pond to get a better look, a slightly anxious call interrupts my actions.

Staff Member: Professor Lucien!

I turn towards the source of the voice and see a person wearing a white work uniform, panting heavily.

After Lucien responds to the staff member, he stands up and gives me a helpless look. I smile and wave him off, signaling for him to go attend to his work first.

While enjoying the scenery before me, suddenly, my attention is drawn to a snack stand selling cotton candy.

The colorful cotton candies are plump and neatly lined up at the stand. I can almost smell the sweet aroma that belongs to candies.

I pick two from the assortment of cotton candies and as I turn around, I see Lucien walking over as well.

MC: Did you manage to resolve your work so quickly?

Lucien: Mm, there was a slight deviation in one of the research results. I went to check the situation and found the issue.

Lucien: The time ahead belongs to just the two of us.

Lucien says as he turns his gaze to the cotton candy in my hand.

I hesitate between the two flavors for a moment and then with a smile, I hand him the cotton candy shaped like a rabbit.

MC: I'll try the fox this time, and I'll leave the rabbit to you~

The sweetness of the cotton candy melts in our mouths, and Lucien's eyes raised slightly at the taste, his eyes lit up.

Could it be that his cotton candy is really delicious? I can't help but glance over, and I see him subtly curving his lips as if he's aware of my curiosity.

Lucien: Do you want to exchange and try each other's flavors?

I nod and hand over the cotton candy I have in my hand.

But I see him take a bite of the cotton candy in his hand and then lean in closer.

The next second, the warm lips sweetened by the candy engulfed me. Flavor that uniquely belongs to him invades me and my senses.

After finally reclaiming my own breath, I feign wickedness and take a fierce bite of the cotton candy in my hand, saying.

MC: ...Looks like Professor Lucien's candy isn't as sweet as mine!

His eyes slightly curve, and a soft arc forms at the corner of his lips.

Lucien: (whispers very, VERY tenderly) Is that so? I feel that mine has gotten sweeter.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Sweetness intertwines between us, and amidst laughter, my mood surprisingly has become much more lightened.

I follow Lucien's footsteps as we stroll through this autumn scenery, and unknowingly, we've walked deep into the park, where we discover a uniquely designed building.

The building takes on a tiered structure, with a semi-transparent outer layer, blending technology and simplicity in just the right measure.

I can't help but hold Lucien's hand with some curiosity as we walk towards the exhibition hall. The moment we step inside, it feels like I've stumbled into another world.

Glistening streams of light glide across the ink-black walls, and the entire space seems endless. Mysterious and splendid array of colors fills my field of vision.

Glass display cases are scattered throughout the hall, showcasing butterflies of various sizes and colors, with many of them fluttering their wings gracefully.

The beauty before my eyes is truly breathtaking. I find myself widening my eyes and slightly parting my lips, yet I'm at a loss for where to begin with my praise.

Butterflies of various colors freely soar within the exhibition hall, some perched on the walls, others entwined together, creating a remarkably vivid spectacle.

Suddenly, a butterfly flies past me, its wings displaying a beautiful black and gold pattern, casting a radiant trail. I instinctively reach out to touch it, but my hand passes right through.

I raise an eyebrow in surprise and see Lucien slightly tilting his head, watching as the butterfly flutters and passes through his upturned palm.

Lucien: It should be a holographic projection, combined with some systems that allow interaction with real-time images.

MC: So lifelike... I was genuinely fooled just now.

I walk towards the depths of the exhibition hall with great interest. In the first few display cases, images of butterflies cycling through each stage of their life cycle are being showcased using holographic technology.

As I walk into the area dedicated to showcasing different butterfly species, the colors become even more vibrant.

I carefully observe each one, but when I reach the display case in the center, I suddenly can't look away.

Shades of light blue to deep purple on the wing surface are adorned with clusters of white, and when the light falls upon the wings, they shimmer with splendid radiance.

MC: This butterfly is so beautiful... Is it a Morpho Helena?

Lucien: Yes, this butterfly is known as one of the most beautiful in the world. It also has another name - the "Goddess of Light" butterfly.

Lucien speaks, and a hint of amazement flashes in his narrow eyes. Upon hearing his words, I lower my head and carefully examine the butterflies in the cabinet.

MC: It can actually emit light?

Lucien: Its wings have densely packed scales, and inside them, there are pigment particles. So when exposed to light, it refracts the light and produces a shimmer.

MC: No wonder it's called the Goddess of Light... It's like a jewel embedded in the sky.

He raises an eyebrow and gently taps the glass display case with his finger.

Lucien: The specimen of Morpho Helena is very rare. It was mentioned in the project proposal that this specimen will only be on display here for a few days.

Lucien: It seems like we arrived just in time.

Lucien lowers his eyes, and the soft light makes his gaze appear even more profound. I lower my head, gazing at the dazzling shimmer of the butterfly wings, and my heart feels touched.

MC: I'm glad I came here with you; otherwise, I would have missed out on such a unique butterfly.

Lucien: When I saw it mentioned in the project proposal, I guessed that you might like it here.

Lucien turns his head slightly to look at me, and his dark eyes dimming for a moment, making me realize something.

The sudden invitation this morning, the planned itinerary, could it be…

I look up at him, and he's standing amidst the specimens. The shimmering lights blended the colors of the butterflies flowing around Lucien.

MC: Lucien, thank you for bringing me here.

Lucien: Although I'd love to frankly accept your gratitude…. it seems like I've been given even more beauty instead.

Lucien: Because you're here.

He says as he's looking at me, his eyes reflecting my entire presence. Just then, a fluttering butterfly brushes past his cheek, lingering nostalgically for a moment.

My heartbeat slowly accelerates in my chest, as subtle emotions seem to swirl and intertwine in my heart.

I raise the camera and instinctively press the shutter button.

Lucien: MC?

His voice brings me back to reality, and I slightly pause, raising the camera in my hand to gesture toward him.

MC: Ah... I think I've found my "touching beauty".

Lucien watches my actions with a knowing smile, and he gently squeezes my hand, his tone soft.

Lucien: Anything is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp.

Lucien: But, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

Lucien: Something you deliberately chase after is like a butterfly. When you chase it, you can never catch it. But if you sit quietly, it will land on you.

MC: (smiles softly) …I think I might know why my previous work didn't satisfy me.

He gazes at me, the shimmering lights filtering through his hair and falling on his eyelashes. As he shivers slightly, a fleeting glimmer passes through his dark irises.

Lucien: Hmm?

MC: I've always approached my work with a strong sense of purpose, which naturally couldn't touch me from deep inside.

Lucien looks at me and slightly curls his lips.

Lucien: Mm... it seems like you've already let go of the purpose that was troubling you.

Lucien: Perhaps, your butterfly is about to appear.

As soon as Lucien's voice falls, a holographic butterfly lands on my shoulder.

I turn my head in surprise, wanting to observe its appearance closely.

The butterfly seems to sense my gaze, and its wings quiver gently before it slowly takes off again, leaving behind a trail of light.

It flies forward, occasionally turning back to circle around us, as if confirming something.

MC: Is it guiding us?

Lucien: I think taking action might solve this question more effectively than asking.

He takes my hand and follows the butterfly towards the back of the exhibition hall. The moment we step out of the hall, the scenery in front of us changes once again.

Before our eyes is a field of flowers. Tender green branches are bent under the weight of vibrant blooms, and the wind sways the flower branches, causing petals to lift into the air and scatter before finally carpeting the ground.

MC: So beautiful—! It was leading us here all along.

Lucien: Perhaps it's inviting us to touch a real butterfly.

We walk towards the center of the flower field, and that's when we notice numerous different types of butterflies fluttering about, forming clusters of their own.

I'm a bit worried about disturbing them, so I stop in my tracks halfway.

However, Lucien seems to notice my worry and leads me forward.

Lucien: Don't worry, our arrival won't disrupt the tranquility of this little world.

Just as he said, the gracefully dancing butterflies haven't stopped their activities and continue tirelessly sipping nectar from the flowers.

I reach out my hand to touch them, feeling their beauty. Some of the flowers are exceptionally pretty, and I'm curious about their species, thinking of planting some on my balcony.

When I turn to ask Lucien, I see him standing amidst the flowers, quietly admiring the surroundings.

Lucien, enveloped in bright and vibrant colors, appears even more serene. The sunlight shining on him adds a touch of softness.

Suddenly, a butterfly with a shimmering blue glow flaps its wings and lands on Lucien's chest.

He lowers his head and gazes at it, his dark eyes flickering with light and shadow.

I want to touch the perched butterfly, but the startled butterfly instantly flies away, dispersing the beautiful scenery in an instant

I sigh softly, feeling a sense of regret as I try to withdraw my hand before it's suddenly held firmly.

Lucien: (whispers) Do you only have eyes for the butterflies?

He seems dissatisfied with my distraction and gently pulls my hand. Without any defense, I tumble into his embrace.

With our movements, the flying and parched butterflies around us feel disturbed and take off one by one.

Tiny fragments of light pass through their glistening wings and fall onto Lucien's face.

At that moment, it's as if I can hear the sound of their wings fluttering.

MC: Of course I have eyes for you too.

Lucien: Then I've also become a part of the scenery in your eyes.

His gentle gaze conveys his emotions to me, radiance sweeping across his pupils. His eyelashes quivering lightly, casting fragmented shadows.

I can't help but reach out my hand, gently touching his face.

MC: Not just in my eyes, but also a part of the whole scenery.

MC: We both unexpectedly barged into it.

Upon hearing my words, he can't help but chuckle softly. The warm sunlight falls upon his cheeks, making this whole person appear even warmer.

Lucien: Perhaps it's these unexpected surprises that make this world more romantic.

He looks deeply into my eyes, emotions as thick as ink welling up in the depths of his gaze, yet he gently occupies me in this way.

I raise my hand to hug him, and a hint of sweetness twirls around my heart, forming the simplest of sentences.

MC: Well then, since I've barged in, I will just stay and won’t leave~

Lucien: (in an incredibly gentle whisper) You've probably lost the chance to leave a long time ago.

Butterflies transform into the definition of beauty and envelop us tightly. He reaches out, caressing the tips of my ears. His movements touch deep into my heart.

I tenderly kiss his lips, the sensation of his warmth and trembles reminiscent of fluttering butterfly wings.

So clear and yet so real, distant yet within arm's reach.

I instinctively close my eyes, quietly reciting the answer within my heart.

What touches me are not the tangible presences, but the emotions themselves, whether complex or simple.

And also the butterfly on my shoulder, it barged into my life, accompanying and dancing forward with me.

[ace-trainer-risu]

what are your fave diana wynne jones books that aren’t howl’s moving castle??

Oh whattt a lovely and fun question which I was definitely not secretly hoping someone would ask!!!! Yay!!

Hm okay so, not specifically in order, probably my top fave Diana Wynne Jones books would be:

Deep Secret! Deep Secret is not just one of my favorite books by DWJ but one of my favorite books full stop! It’s so good. Basically, the premise is that there is an infinite series of interconnected worlds, some of which have magic and some of which don’t, at the center of which is a vast interdimensional magical empire. Magic in the multiverse is overseen by an organization of magicians called Magids and there must always be a specific number of Magids in existence. When Rupert, a young Magid living on Earth, discovers that his mentor has died (ish) he becomes unexpectedly responsible for finding and training the next Magid, which is extremely inconvenient timing for him because the aforementioned magical empire is on the brink of civil war and chaos and its his job to stop it. And also almost all of this takes place at...a science fiction convention. It’s amazing.  I have read this book minimum four (probably more) times and every time it’s absolutely delightful and hilarious. I would like to go to the sci fi convention in this novel more than anything. It’s such a good read and its one of her few novels which is specifically aimed at adults, so I would EXTREMELY recommend it. Plus the romance in it is extremely good...not exactly enemy-to-lovers but more like ‘annoys-the-shit-out-of-each-other’ to lovers.  (**One note about this one...there’s a few very briefly mentioned side characters who are gender noncomforming and even tho they are actually portrayed very positively, it’s not necessarily ideal and 100% respectful (basically the protags comment on them being very beautiful and nice but also keep trying to guess their “real” gender). Additionally there’s a different briefly mentioned side character who is fat who isn’t portrayed very nicely. Both of these are brief incidents, just wanted to provide a warning for them)

Dark Lord of Derkholm - Okay this one is weirdly hard to summarize but it’s about this magical fantasy world which has been taken overy and is being used as a tourist destination by a non-magical world (heavily implied to be Earth) for people who want to role play at being in a classic high fantasy story, including fighting and killing THE DARK LORD...who is really just a random magician pretending to be evil. The inhabitants of the fantasy world do not enjoy this and are trying desperately to stop the tours, but unfortunately according to a magical oracle, their best hope of stopping the tours is this year’s Dark Lord, a hapless farmer magician named Derk, and his, um, eccentric family consisting of his glamorous wife, seven children (of whom five are griffins and one is a bard) and a simply improbable amount of magical animals. And also there is a very good dragon.  I think Derkholm is so great as a novel b/c it’s a very funny, loving but sharp, parody of high fantasy stories...but a lot of the time parodies only function as parodies but not as good stories in their own right, you know? But this novel completely functions as a story too, and in fact the first time I read at maybe age nine or ten, the high fantasy parody went completely over my head...but I still loved it. I also really love that this novel is very accessible to all ages, I think I enjoy reading it as an adult just as much as I did as a kid, which is rare.  For anyone who has read Howl’s Moving Castle but nothing else by DWJ and isn’t sure where to start, I think this is a great place to start. (TW: There’s a brief, non-explicit scene which has implied sexual assault.) 

Fire and Hemlock - This may be the most controversial one since it features a romance with a significant age gap where the two characters meet when one is a child and the other an adult. And I fully agree that that’s :/ and normally that trope is NOT my thing but it doesn’t come off at all creepy in this story imo, and if you think you can deal with that then this is a very weird, atmospheric, cool book about storytelling and fairy tales and growing up. The short summary (this is another hard to summarize one) is that as a child, Polly encounters and strikes up a friendship and correspondence with a young man, Tom, which mainly consists of the two of them jointly making up a silly, ongoing fairy tale type story...but things get weird when parts of their story start to come true in real life.  I’ve only read this one twice but it really stuck with me and in fact just describing it here...really makes me want to read it again!

The Chrestomanci Series - So all of the above are either specifically aimed at adults or a general audience whereas the Chrestomanci series is aimed at children, mainly a middle grade type audience. And tbh I started reading them as a kid (fond memory - I bought an omnibus of the first two with my allowance money...b/c it had a cat on the cover!) so I don’t know what it would be like to first read these as an older teen or an adult. BUT. Honestly they are really good and would be a quick read so I do still recommend them. There’s seven overall, with th seventh being a collection of short stories, and they’re only semi-chronological so the reading order isn’t vital. My recommended order (b/c this the order I read them in, haha) is Charmed Life, The Lives of Christopher Chant, The Magicians of Caprona, Witch Week, The Pinhoe Egg, Conrad’s Fate, and then Mixed Magic you can read whenever you want so long as you read it after Charmed Life and The Magicians of Caprona.  So the very core premise of it is not dissimilar to Deep Secret - there’s an infinite series of worlds/universes and there’s a magician, called the Crestomanci in this case, who is responsible for making sure magic isn’t abused across the multiverse. The Chrestomanci is an extremely powerful enchanter who has nine lives, and the novels are various semi-connected stories about the adventures of Chrestomanci as an adult and child. Chrestomanci is a title so it’s not always the same person, but for the majority of the stories it is the same guy and he’s...the best/worst...He’s this extremely handsome, charismatic, powerful enchanter who is very good at his job, loves his wife a lot, wears very beautiful clothes and makes, um, questionable life choices and is very annoying to everyone. I’ve thought about this very hard and I believe that he’s what happens when you take a fundamentally chaotic good person and make him do a fundamentally lawful good job; yes, he’s going to do it and do it well, but he is going to do it in the most chaotic, ridiculous way possible, and he IS going to die at an ALARMING rate, doing things that would not normally kill a person, such as playing cricket and trying to catch stray cats. He also, as previously mentioned, frequently wears very dramatic silk dressing gowns with elaborate embroidery, which the protag of Charmed Life finds deeply alarming.  It’s very odd to me how these books don’t seem to be well known, because the Chrestomanci books were some of my absolute favorite books as a child. I still have my omnibus editions of the first four novels and they are very worn and very beloved. And it’s so WILD to me that I don’t think I have ever talked to someone who also read those as a kid! Like I’m not saying those people don’t exist, I’m sure I just haven’t met them, but that’s so weiiirddddd to me. If I bring up Tamora Pierce or Garth Nix or other authors of weird, eccentric children’s fantasy novels to other avid childhood consumers of fantasy, people usually know what I mean, but Chrestomanci and its just..crickets. Is it b/c she’s British? Anyway all of the Chrestomanci books are very degrees of good, but if I had to pick a favorite, I think, controversial choice here, it would be Conrad’s Fate. Particularly in terms of recommendations to others, Conrad’s Fate works as a standalone and, unlike the other books in the series, it’s aimed more at a YA audience, so if you wanted to read a Chrestomanci novel without getting into the whole series, that’s a good way to go. It’s about a boy, Conrad, who is told that he has a terrible, possibly fatal Fate awaiting him unless he goes to work as a servant at a wealthy, and weird, estate neighboring his town, at which place he encounters things including color changing livery, an extremely annoying teenage Chrestomanci, and the greatest liminal space house EVER. It’s like a combination of an upstairs/downstairs Downton Abbey type social drama with bizarre fantasy shenanigans. How could that not be good??

Also as Honorable Mentions - A Sudden and Wild Magic and The Time of the Ghost. A Sudden and Wild Magic is fun b/c it’s one of her few works aimed specifically at adults and it’s (gasp) a little bit NAUGHTY which I was very surprised and delighted by when I read it. (This may seem like an unfair statement considering that Deep Secret fully has an orgy in it, but Rupert is so fundamentally unnaughty of a character that he completely unnaughtifies the whole novel, whereas Sudden and Wild Magic embraces being a (little bit) naughty.)   The Time of the Ghost on the other hand is weird and haunting and creepy and atmospheric. I only read it once but it’s one of those novels you just think about periodically and go “wait what the fuck that was a weird novel” (Also known as the “Garth Nix” effect) 

[dreadpoetssociety]

Her Over Me

TW: death, verbal fighting

Request:  Maybe can you do a Spence x teen! Daughter where Spencer’s new girlfriend is a total ass to y/n and despite her efforts to convince Spencer that she’s extremely harsh, Spencer brushes her off and ignores her until she finally snaps and gets enough of his ignorance, lashing out on him unexpectedly for caring so much for his girlfriend instead of his daughter and she just runs to Garcia’s or JJ’s or smth and spencer finally realizes the truth when his gf asks where the annoying ‘brat’ is? Thank u!

Note: Okay, hopefully this is alright HAH I’ve never written one with Spencer being a dad before, but this was fun. Thank you for the request!!

Pairings: 

Spencer Reid x Girlfriend 

Spencer Reid x Daughter!Reader

()()()()()()

You never liked your fathers new girlfriend. You weren’t sure what he saw in her, or how he didn’t notice the pure evil that bubbled inside the woman’s veins, considering he was a profiler and a genius and all that. He should’ve noticed her behavior a long time ago. 

But alas, he didn’t. As the saying goes, love is blind. You’d tried to bring it up a few times, only to be brushed off, and gave up once you understood he was never going to believe you. The woman was nice to you in front of him, but became someone else when he was gone. You were convinced that if he wasn’t so head over heels for her, he probably would’ve noticed. It was so out of character for him not to, but for a while you didn’t want to ruin his happiness. He hadn’t been interested in anyone since your mom passed away, and even though he pretended to be happy, you had the genetics of a profiler, and just knew he hadn’t been for so long. Not completely, anyway. 

When she came home, your mood changed, as though you were putting an extra wall up.

“Y/N, get over here and take these bags. I won’t wait.” she said.

“Alright.” you for the most part just tried to be compliant. You didn’t want any issues, or even worse, punishment, which had happened more than once now due to her incredible lying of ‘Y/N said this, Y/N said that, I think it’s because she doesn’t like me’ blah blah blah. She knew which buttons to push. 

“Hurry it up, I have things to do.” she said angrily. You picked up the grocery bags and placed them on the island in the kitchen area. As you did, though, a glass salsa jar fell out and onto the floor, cracking into two pieces. You quickly started picking up the pieces and frantically tried to clean it.

“My God, Y/N! I just bought that! You can’t get anything right, can you? I don’t even understand why Spencer doesn’t just put you up for god damn adoption, you’re such a pain to be around. You owe me three dollars and fifty cents for that, and gas money to go back to the store.” she yelled, “For God sake, if I was your mom, I’d die, too.”

You stopped. You turned so quickly that it would’ve given someone whiplash. This was it. This was the last straw. All those times of her calling you a burden, of her blaming everything on you, trying to get rid of you in any way she could. She doesn’t belong in this family. She’s an outsider. What right does she have mentioning your mother. It hit too close to home, especially since you beat yourself up every day over feeling guilty of your mother’s death, and missing her more than words could even describe. It was your breaking point. 

“You know what, Catherine,”

“Catrina” she interrupted.

“Catherine!” you screamed, “You vile, stupid excuse of a woman. Keep my mother out of your slimy, filthy mouth. You don’t have a place in this house.” 

“Excuse me? How dare you tell me what to do, you stupid brat! I’ll tell Spencer about how awful you are, and maybe he’ll punish you again.”

“Honestly Caitlin, I don’t give a god damn. Put your own groceries away. In fact-“ you turned around and dropped all the glass piece back to the floor, “you can clean them the hell up, too.” the two of you broke out in a screaming match then, throwing insults back and forth at the top of your lungs. 

Eventually, Spencer walked in at some point. You didn’t notice, but Catrina did. Her tone had changed, and she as calmer, and anomy somewhat nicer while you absolutely destroyed her.

“Y/N!” he yelled. You turned around. You’d never heard him yell at you like that before.

“Dad! I swear to you. She is literally so harsh. She treats me like trash! And you just let her! She brought up mo-“

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure it’s you who’s screaming at her. I know you’re upset because you miss your mom, but you can’t throw tantrums like this anymore, Y/N.”

You stopped. Anymore? Tantrums? You had et your father’s girlfriend walk all over you this whole time. All those times she got you in trouble she’d bent the truth dramatically. You hadn’t even yelled at her once until now. 

“You’re really going to believe her over your own kid, aren’t you?” you shook your head, “You know what, that’s cool. Do what you want. I’ll do what Cathy has wanted me to do the whole time and see myself out. You know, for some alleged genius and incredible profiler, you’re too easily manipulated. Have fun on date night.” 

“Y/N, get back here!”

But it was too late. You’d snatched the keys, walked out and slammed the door. Your eyes were blurry as the apartment elevator closed before Spencer could get to you, and you made your way down to the garage. 

You got in the car and just drove. You weren’t sure where your body was taking you, but it was just on autopilot, and you eventually ended up at JJ’s, a coworker of your father’s.

You rang the bell, practically about to pass out from crying so much. JJ answered the door pretty quickly, and her face dropped with incredible amounts of concern that you could almost feel it.

“Y/N, oh my God, what’s going on?” 

“Spen- and- a- an-“ you couldn’t even speak. You’d put up with this witch for so long for him, and you were his kid, and he just believed her so easily.

“Okay, hey, hey wait. Come inside, you have to sit down, okay?” JJ helped you in to her living room. The house was seemingly empty, so you assumed Will must’ve taken the kids somewhere. For a few minutes you just cried on her couch while she sat next to you trying to comfort you. Eventually calming down, you began to explain everything from the beginning. The disgusted looks, the insults, the lying, the this, the that, just everything. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, that’s terrible.” JJ said, “Spence really hasn’t said anything about it?”

“No! Literally nothing! He doesn’t even think it’s happening. He doesn’t find it suspicious at all it’s so weird. He gives a damn so much about her that he’ll just like, see past it.” you replied.

“That’s so unlike him.” she said, “Do you want me to talk to him?” 

You shook your head, “It’s just cause more problems with his dumb girlfriend. I don’t even care that he has a girlfriend! He thinks that I hate her because I miss my mom, but I hate her because she’s so mean to me all the time when he isn’t around. The only reason I lost it today was because she brought up my mom.”

“Is that why you got angry at her? What’d she say?” 

“She literally said that if she were my mom, she’d die, too. Like firstly, who says that? What kind of insult is that? Secondly, who would bring up someone’s literal dead mother in any situation, let alone over a stupid jar?” you asked. JJ shrugged, not knowing what to say. You both talked for a few more hours after that, ignoring every attempt Spencer had tried to call you.

“Y/N, you’re genuinely welcome here any time if you need to get away from that.” she said.

“Thanks, JJ, I honestly might take you up on that.” you smiled. You said your goodbyes and made your way home.

When you walked through the front door of your apartment, you saw the two of them sitting on the couch together. Spencer looked at you, you looked back and just walked into your room as though life was normal. That’s all you could do for now. For the following few days, you spent most of your time at JJ’s. Penelope was there too, every once in a while, and once you told her the story, she almost went to straighten Spencer out herself. Garcia wasn’t the type to get angry, but when she was, it was like the day had just suddenly turned to night it was so dark. But, you convinced her out of it, saying you’d deal with it somehow and that you didn’t want anyone else involved.

Spencer had been waiting for his girlfriend to go out when you mysteriously disappeared for the millionth time this week. She walked in a black body con dress, and her beauty almost mesmerized him.

“Hey,” she smiled. She quickly looked around as her and Spencer got closer, “where’s that annoying little brat?” 

And that’s when it finally clicked for him. All of those behaviors he’d picked up on, the way she looked at the top of his head when talking about how you had done something, the way her voice seemed to fluctuate, even just the way she walked around the house. It was almost like a snap back to reality for him, and he regretted ignoring it before. He knew now that you were telling the truth this whole time, and that he’d just looked over you.

“Get out.” he said.

“Spence, what?”

“That’s Dr. Reid for you. Get out of my house. You lied this whole time about Y/N.” his voice was raising, which she’d never seen happen before.

“What? Spence- no, let’s talk this out, you don’t understand!”

“You’re right, I don’t understand. How can I understand someone who treats my kid like nothing and lies about her for no reason? I can understand what you get out of it, a power trip, maybe. Maybe it stems from how you were raised as a child, since you said your mother did the same to you and now you’re doing it unto someone else. So most likely she’s just a surrogate to represent your younger self, correct? You’ve got the same hair color and eye color, so it actually adds up.” he rambled off angrily, but he stopped quickly, “Get out. Take your crap with you. Don’t call me again, we’re done.” 

He slammed the door behind her.

When Spencer showed up to JJ’s house, you, Garcia, and JJ fell silent.

“Y/N, can we talk privately?” he asked. Looking at the two other women, they nodded their heads and gestured for you to go. You both walked out to Spencer’s car, getting in, and starting for a drive.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, you were right this whole time.”

“Yeah, I know.” you retorted. He sighed.

“Genuinely, Y/N. Catrina’s gone I kicked her out. I should’ve seen who she really was from the beginning. I noticed all the signs and just went anyway. More importantly I should’ve listened to you.” 

You stayed silent. What were you supposed to do in a situation like this? You were still mad at him, but wanted to forgive him.

“I’m genuinely sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you eventually, but I’m pissed about it for now.” you stated.

“Which completely makes sense, you have every right to be.”

“Something that might help your case would be a nice trip to the mall, you know. . . “ you smirked. He laughed. The two of you drove around for about an hour and a half talking things out, and the day ended with you, Spencer, Garcia, and JJ all going out together. Of course, not before Garcia and JJ almost killed him, but once it was somewhat settled, the four of you had a good time, especially with you having the satisfaction of knowing that Catrina was literally kicked out of your house. 

[luvutomoonandtosaturn]

Child of Blood and Salt - Chapter 3

It would be fair to say that a coughing Inej, a murdersus and bloodied Kaz, and a strange dark haired girl who looked like she’d been through the ringer to be the burglar that would have broken into the Van Eck Mansion. Jesper glazed quickly at his boyfriend beside him to make sure he wasn’t going crazy and that the two deadliest people in Ketterdam and some random pirate chick just hadn’t broken into their house. “Ya,” Anya said passing Kaz while dusting herself off already making herself at home in the mansion, “You definitely missed me.” It was Wylan who spoke next, now giving Anya a curious look. “Saints Kaz! What-” “Sorry to barge in,” Kaz cut off now giving Anya a deadly stare that if Jesper had received would of sent him running to the hills , “but we needed a safe place to hide out.” “From what!” Jesper said, now looking over their bloodied and bruised bodies. “Sandwatch,” Kaz said, giving a look to Anya and leading the group to the main sitting room.” Jeseper and Wylan were left in a state of utter astonishment, and caught up just in time. “You know what, call me crazy, but haven’t we all been here before. I thought I had settled into a life of ease and comfort!” Jesper explained. “Ya,” Kaz said, now making himself comfortable and shooting Anya a pointed look, “I did too. But I’d really love to hear your excuse you promised me” “Who is this?” Jesper mouthed to Inej who shook her head just as easily confused. “Come on!” Anya explained to Kaz, who both now seemed to forget there were three other people in the room in the heat of their argument. “I think we're overdue for a family reunion,” Kaz scoffed. That's when Inej noticed. The dark hair, the same chocolate brown eyes. She would kick herself for not noticing it sooner because now it was so obvious. Even their noses looked the same. They were related. “I’m in a bit of a situation,” Anya starts. “An understatement.” “Kaz, please,” “No, no, because this is what you do An, you show up at unexpected moments and rain down hell wherever you go. And who's there to fix your mistakes? Me. ” Kaz exploded jumping out of his chair. “And what- what happened to you sailing around the world. Aren't you supposed to be pirating around on Sturmhond's boat right now? Whatever happened to that? And what about that house in Nova Zem?” Kaz looked accelerated, Jesper and Inej had never seen him worked up like this before. The room was dead silent as Wylan, Jesper, and Inej silently waited on the edge of their seats to see how the story played out. The housekeeper was now bringing out more kavs and glasses which Jesper accepted happily.

“Kaz” Anya said, now losing her humorous energy, “I’m one of Sturmods most trusted crew members.” She explained looking Kaz in the eyes. “I know.” Kaz didn't let his surprise show but said “and how does this change anything?” Anya opened her mouth to say something but words to tell Kaz all the things that she was hiding could't find her.

“Okay!” Jesper finally exploded, “I’m sorry Kaz, but can someone please explain what in saints name is going on here!” Kaz and Anya were finally broken out of their transe of anger and stared at Jesper as if they just realized they all were there. She sighed. “You're Jesper, the sharpshooter, right?” Anya gestured to him, to which he gave a nod. “So that means you must be...Wylan,” Anya continued, “And of course you’re Inej.” She finally turned to Inej who could now clearly see that resemblance between Kaz and Anya in the better lighting of the Van Eck Mansion. “And you are Kaz’s sister,” Inej said with confidence. Jesper spit out his Kavs with a loud unpleasant sound and Wylan's eyes widened in shock. Anya stood still, not denying the accusation. “Wylan, please tell me I’m dreaming, this is all a dream. There is not a female verson of Kaz Brekker in our living room. ” Jesper said turning to Wylan who rolled his eyes and turned to Kaz, “Kaz, I never knew.” “Yes, well that wasthe point wasn’t it.” Kaz said with an annoyed glance at Anya, who rolled her eyes. “But, you’re Grisha,” Inej said with confused glances between the siblings, “aren't you?” Anya opened her mouth to respond but Kaz got there faster. “She was tested when we were children,” Kaz explained, “Before our parents died. You were to be brought to the Little Place but our parents struck a deal with an orphanage in Nova Zem, a place where Grisha children could live in peace, outside the second army. It's wear she grew up .” Kaz sat down again now knowing he couldn't keep his secret sister from his crows any longer. “We met years ago, and Anya had gotten a position of Sturmhond's crew. We had other meetings throughout the years, it’s where I went those two weeks last year.” It was all making sense to the crows now, but Anya’s head was down listening to Kaz tell her story. “That's where I thought you were,” Kaz said, turning to his sister, “Look, Anya I have enough on my plate as it is. I'm sure you have more than enough resources to fix whatever problem Sturmhold - Nikolai - has gotten himself into.” Anya finally looked up at her brother, cane in hand, sitting in front of her in a big leather chair. Inej was standing by his side, a look of concern on her beautiful features. Wylan was looking like he was in a state of shock sitting next to Jesper who was looking at Kaz like he was dressed in rainbow colors and juggling baby tigers. Anya knew then that if she was going to get her brother's help she needed to come clean, about everything. “I’ve never been Novia Zem, Kaz” She said after a long moment of silence. Kaz’s head shut up quickly. “No,” He reasoned, “after you were tested-” “No Kaz. There is no secret magical place where Grisha children can be who they are outside of the second army. It’s fiction.” There were no tears in her eyes but her face displayed a look of trauma as she recounted her story. “There was a slaver in town, he offered our parents a lot of money if they would give me up. You know we were poor, we were really poor, and besides they were always terrified of my power, I displayed it so young. So, they took me, but the slaver he wasn’t, well he wasn’t really a slaver was he. Markin Yaroslavovich.” “Wait,” Jesper piped in, “I’ve heard that name before. Something about a raid on his estate in The Wandering Isle, but that's all." “Most people don’t know him, always kept under the radar.” Anya said and she gave a harsh dark laugh suddenly changing from her humorous demeanor. “He called himself a “collector” of Grisha. He was maniacally obsessed with our power and collected corporalki, like myself, and Etherealki and Materialki from all around the world. It was his life mission to create his own army, outside Ravka. That’s where I grew up, in a dark palace along with thirty other helpless Grisha. You think the conditions of the Little Palace training was bad, this was- it was hell. He experimented on us, controlled us, wanted something like Judra Palm to make us, him, more powerful. More than half of us died. Luckily he wasn’t able to get his hands

on it the judra parlm tho. Then finally when the second army got wind of what was going on they sent a rescue mission. Only three of us survived the escape, me, a squaller, and one durast. When we got to Ravka, they said we could go to the Southern Colonies and the squaller and durast did, but I- I don’t know I couldn't go to the colonies and not use my power, it was all I’ve ever known. So, I stayed.” Anya finally met Kaz’s eyes who she’d been avoiding though her own speech. “I’ve one of the best Heartrenders in the second army Kaz. I used my full name and now I’m training new Grisha in the second army. But, I am on Sturmonds crew, Nikolai does need some grisha backup every once and while.” Kaz didn't yell or glare at his sister, but listened carfully just if she was reading him a bedtime story. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kaz said now speaking, “How did I- how did I not know” “You're used to knowing everything about everything Kaz, but Yaroslavovich was an expert of not being noticed and the whole mission was covered up by the second army, but I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. When I first met you I was traveling with Sturmhond and I just didn't, I couldn't relive it then.” “I don’t blame you for anything, Anastasia.” Anya smiled at this. “But that doesn’t explain-” “Why I’ve shown up unexpectedly with people trying to kill me, yes I know. Can Van Eck and the Sharpshooter be trusted?” “Debatable, but we’ll probably need them for whatever scheme you're planning.” Anya cocked her head in agreement. “Nikolai’s been taken.” At that Jesper spit up, yet again, his drink. “Who-” Inej cut in. “His brother Vasily, he’s always been jealous of him, but most importantly he wants the crown and he’ll do anything to do it and that means killing his brother. Nikolai, as Sturmond, was on one last recon mission before returning to Ravka, and he was ambushed. Vasily, is playing it off as a tragic accident and the whole palace and army is with him. Only me and a couple other Grisha, Zoya, Nadia Genya,a durast named David, and heartrender twins Tamar and Toyla know the truth. I left a days ago, and they are probably already questioning everyone. It’s hell at the palace now, Vasily has got everyone in a tight grasp and he's not letting go.” Kaz nodded his head, the life changing information unfazed his cold features. “How do you know that he’s not already dead? I mean why not just assassinate him and finish the job why kidnap him?” “They need him. He’s the only one who knows the secret plans for the peace treaty with Fjerda I don't even know them. They can’t risk killing him without that information, but they’ll do a lot to get it out of him. David’s narrioided down his location somewhere in Novyi Zem,” “That’s a pretty big peraminter.” Wylan piped in now sitting up in his chair. “I know, but I have several contacts there so I think I can narrow it down a bit when we get there, if you are still in.” “And what exactly would be our role in your little king rescue mission.” “I have none of Ravka’s resources with me, plus we will probably be breaking into a heavily guarded place, isn’t that your guys' thing.” “Know that does sound like fun.” Jesper said “There’s also the added benefit that you’ll be saving the entirety of Ravka from a Vasily rain. So what do you say, big brother, wanna rescue a king?”

[razorblade180]

Venqua Week:Music

“When you-gah! No, that’s not right. When- ugh! Come on Ventus, you can do this!” The boy said, frustratingly tuning a guitar. He had been at this for months now. It all started when Namine moved into the Land of Departure with him, Terra, and Aqua. The boy had stumbled upon her drawings and by extension, the arts itself. He was completely hooked. Outside of fighting, Ventus didn’t have much time to explore possible talents. He was determined to find a hobby he was good at! It took all of ten minutes of Namine teaching him about color theory for him to realize that maybe literal art wasn’t his calling.

That’s when Namine recommended music. Seemed like a good idea. He didn’t want to brag, but Ventus always thought he was a bit musically inclined. Between dancing and the ice cream beat machine, he thought learning an actual instrument would come easy. Wrong! It was critically difficult! Three months into learning guitar and his confidence was was fading like the golden sunset that washed over him as he sat at the edge of the trio’s stargazing spot. Ventus played a few more strings and sighed. It didn’t sound off. Honestly it never was. The problem was his nerves. Ventus was trying to be a perfectionist with the only song he’s been able to learn so far. All for a special someone, Aqua.

He had always had certain feelings for his friend, but expressing them was beyond impossible. Any time he tried to show her a cooler, more mature side of himself it never worked out. He’d either screw up really hard, or Aqua would do her pretty little giggle while patting his head like he was some sort of puppy. He was not a puppy darn it! Ventus wanted to at least be a cooler, older anime. Something like a fox or a leopard. Just once, he wanted to leave Aqua speechless. He thought a singing to her would be his best bet. His face face grew redder at the thought of her listening to the song in awe, her deep blue eyes captivated by his feelings.

“Geez, I’m so hopeless.” He said, covering his face. Ventus turned his head towards his master’s keyblade that rested peacefully just several feet away. He wondered if Master Eraqus had any hidden talents? No way keyblade wielding was his only gift. If Aqua’s fighting style was any indication, the old man was probably a bunch of fun on the dance floor. The thought of him doing even half the moves Aqua did was enough to make Ventus laugh lightly. Once again he strummed his guitar. “Oh master, you think I stand a chance?”

“Stand a chance at what?” A voice asked from behind. Ven’s face went bright red, then pale in a less than a second when he realized it was Aqua. She smiled her beautiful smile like she always did and held a crown of flowers in her hand.

“A-Aqua!?” He stammered, “W-What brings you up here....!?” He wanted to hit himself right now. The answer to that was quite literally in front of him.

“Changing out Master Eraqus’s flowers” she answered anyways. Aqua walked over to the memorial and did just that. The old ones weren’t dead yet, but their color was obviously starting to fade. Still, they looked rather pretty. So pretty in fact, Aqua took it upon herself to sat right next to ventus and hang it around neck. “Wow, I’m a little surprised it passed your hair so easily. I thought it would sit on top.” She teased, ruffling the wild dew.

“Hey! It’s not that spiky! Also my head would have to massive for it to sit on top!” He pouted. Why is always a head rub!? This time he was minding his own business and still wound up like this. “Do you have a thing with my hair or something? You’re always doing stuff like this.”

“Of course. You always pout and turn red. It’s cute.” She answered, watching him get redder. Aqua couldn’t help herself. Teasing Ven like this was just irresistible. “So, what is it that you were trying to stand a chance in? Maybe I can help?”

“What? Oh! Umm it was nothing! Just talking aloud is all.” Lying was not a strength Ventus had.

“Really?” Aqua said sarcastically. She reached over to the guitar in his arms and ran her fingers across the strings, making a subtle but pleasant sound from it. “Nothing to do with the acoustic currently in your hands?” She looked at the blue eyes that were inches away and avoiding contact. Aqua tilted her head, a bit confused by Ven’s shyness. “Ven, I’m not a mind reader. Tell me what’s up?”

“If you read minds then you know mine only has you in it.” He thought to himself. “I’m just having a little trouble with a song I wanna sing. I learned all the notes and everything, but I get anxious anytime it comes to playing the whole thing.”

“How come?”

“I’m...self conscious is all.” It wasn’t a lie but it was certainly vague. “Any time I think about singing it the way I intend to, I get worried if it sounds bad or if I look like an idiot.” Ven could feel his heart beating so loudly that he was afraid Aqua might here it. Here being this close was nothing new, yet it too much to deal with.m right now moved back a little by pretending to readjust how he was sitting.

Aqua could the boys hand fidget a little. He wasn’t kidding at all about feeling anxious. She had never seen him so flustered when it came to things like this. Aqua had caught him a few times over the past few months really putting an effort into learning when nobody was around. She had even secretly caught him sneaking off early in the morning to find a place to practice. Learning this song must’ve been really important. For Aqua, that only left one response to this.

“Can I hear it?”

Ven was going to have a heart attack. “What!?”

“I wanna hear it.” She repeated, “We’re often our own worst critics. If you only play with no one around then you might always think it needs improvement, so let me hear it. I’ll give my honest opinion!” She said, excited to listen.

“That’s the one thing that scares me!!!” Ventus could not believe this was happening. How was he supposed to explain to her that she couldn’t listen because he was doing it all for her!? She even gave a valid reason for helping! “Oh, no I uh- you don’t have to do all that! Hehe, I just-” he stopped when he saw Aqua move to sit on her knees. His crush sat patiently with her hands resting her hands on her lap, a heart stealing smile still on her face. Here she was. Here they were. Two people bathed in the golden light of a sunset. Warm air and breath stealing views anywhere you looked. A gentle breeze made Aqua run a finger across her face. All attention was on him. Well, no time like the present right? Ven stood no chance of resisting with a face like that.

He sat facing her, legs crossed. He new his face was still red and the sound of his beating heart hadn’t gotten any calmer. However, a comfort came from that with a mix of excitement. An honest truth about his feelings. He really had fallen for her and wanting nothing more to express his feelings with all of his heart.

“Aqua...can I ask a favor?” He somehow managed to say. “Can you...close you eyes while I sing to you?”

The request was surprising but understandable. This was more about sound then sight anyways. “Okay.” She closed her eyes in earnest. “Ready...” For some reason Aqua felt herself get a little embarrassed as well. She hoped it didn’t show on her face.

Ventus took the deepest breath he could. Mustering his resolve and composing himself, Ventus began to strum.

🎶When you walk away, you don't hear me say

"Please, oh baby, don't go."

Simple and clean

Is the way that you're making me feel tonight

It's hard to let it go....🎶

Yeah, Aqua could totally feel herself starting to blush. Ven was only a few lyrics in, but she couldn’t think of a time she heard a more stunning voice.

🎶You're giving me, too many things, lately

You're all I need, oh~

You smiled at me and said...

"Don't get me wrong, I love you

But does that mean I have to meet your father?"

When we are older, you'll understand what I meant when I said

"No, I don't think life is quite that simple"

When you walk away, you don't hear me say

"Please, oh baby, don't go."

Simple and clean

Is the way that you're making me feel tonight

It's hard to let it go🎶

Ventus felt his nerves melt away as he kept playing. His mind was too focused on the notes to worry. Too focused on the girl in front of him. He was starting to find his stride.

The daily things, Like this and that and what is what

That keep us all... busy are confusing me~

That's when you came to me and said

"Wish I could prove I love you but does that mean I have to walk on water?"

When we are older, you'll understand it's enough when I say so

And maybe some things are that simple.

When-🎶

His serenade was unexpectedly cut short. Aqua had reached for his hand and stopped him from playing. Ven’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, nothing but dread filled his thoughts. Did she hate it? Why else would he stop him midway. He would’ve asked, but Ventus couldn’t find the words. Not out of fear, but because of the look on Aqua’s face. Her calm demeanor was entirely gone. A the warmest smile Ven has ever laid eyes on was on her face with rose red cheeks. “A-Aqua...?” He finally spoke.

“S...sorry.” She spoke, “it’s just...well....” finding the words was a little difficult. Aqua couldn’t help but laugh at her own skittishness. “You confessing to me like this might be a little more than my heart can handle.” There, she said it. She watched a Ven’s eyes start getting bigger and bigger while his face tried rivaling hers in terms of red.

“Y...You knew I-”

“Of course.” Aqua giggled, “I watch you just as much as you watch me you know? Because...I like you...too. A lot.”

Ventus must’ve been dreaming. Chirithy has to have put him in a special dream. It’s the only way this made sense. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Like he was one to talk.

Aqua rubbed the back of her neck, “I’m not very good with this kind of stuff. Even though I had a feeling you liked me, I just couldn’t find the nerve. Then I started thinking about how I could be wrong and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I kept finding reasons to keep quiet. But next thing I know is I started thinking more and more about these feelings sense we got back home and I-” Aqua jumped at the touch of Ven’s hand grab hers. She’s glad he did it, or else she might’ve rambled for hours.

A pressure weighed on their chest. One that was slowly pulling them together. The two of them couldn’t speak, only lean closer. They wanted the same thing. They knew it buy all the blushing moments and not so secret glances. Aqua moved the guitar away from Ven to get even closer. Ven invited the approach by tugging her hand closer to him. Her face had to be only inches away. Way to far for his liking. Aqua finally spoke.

“I think we should both close our eyes this time.” She said, flustered by her own suggestion. She was glad she managed to say it though. The moment his eyes closed, Aqua understood why he asked before. Filled with ease and courage, Aqua pressed her lips against the ones that had just serenaded her moments ago. Neither kept track how long they remained like this and neither cared. The only thing that mattered was it had finally happened; and it was only going to keep happening for many days to come.

[many thanks to @venquaweek because fun fact, I’ve had this music idea for three years and never wrote it 😂]

[duchessfics]

Birthday Headcanons!

So my birthday was technically May 23...which is over a month ago 🙈 but for my birthday I wanted to type these headcanons up. Honestly each of these have no real connection to each other except I’ve just thought of them over time, but I just thought these would be fun to read. So I hope you enjoy them as much as I have when writing these up! 😁

Billie Dean Howard

This filming trip has been a nightmare for Billie. She hardly got any content for her show, her rental car broke down while driving back to the hotel after a whole night of filming, and the next day rather than calling the rental car company, her assistant calls some local mom and pop garage to fix it.

So rather than taking the risk of having her assistant screw something else up, Billie goes to the garage herself. And she is sure that the mechanic will charge her more since she’s both a celebrity and a single woman with no one to back her up.

When the medium gets there the garage is completely devoid of any other people and the only sign of someone here is the radio blasting from the garage. So, after seeing absolutely no one for five minutes, she decides to just walk into the working area fully annoyed at the terrible service.

 Fortunately, she hears the man whistling to the music and struts over to see him working underneath the car. However, Billie interrupts his moment, loudly clearing her throat and saying excuse me in the snippiest tone she can muster. That makes him stop whistling and roll out from under the car.

 But Billie is shocked that this mechanic is no man. Oh no, you are a gorgeous woman even with smears of grease and dirt on your face and clothes. And this is the moment Billie realizes the appeal of butches.

When you roll out from under the car you assume this gorgeous woman is Billie judging by her fancy appearance and get up to introduce yourself. However, as you reach out to shake her hand you remember how dirty you are and back up, so you don’t get something on her clothes.

While Billie was filled with anger just minutes ago at her car being fixed, now she’s both surprised and unexpectedly aroused. You turn down the radio, knowing it’s obnoxiously loud and tell her you contacted the rental car company and they’re covering the cost of repairs, but you won’t be able to finish tonight so she’ll have to wait until tomorrow to drive the repaired car.

Then you throw out the offer in your own desire to see her that you have a spare room if her hotel reservation doesn’t have an extra night. Before you can even finish your sentence, Billie says yes and you would be lying if you denied your own joy at that.

So you tell her you’ll be done in a couple hours and ask if she wants to be dropped off somewhere while you work. But Billie says no. So you set out a clean chair for her to sit in before going back to work.

As you work you ask Billie what she’s doing in a small town like this. So she tells you about her TV show and when you find out she’s a medium you ask about it. At first Billie is hesitant to keep talking, but you assure her you love hearing her talk about her career.

So she tells you about everything—from her career to her checkered past and future desires. And in the process, she ends up sharing things about her life she’s never told anyone. But for some reason she just trusts you and doesn’t feel condemned or judged because of what she says.

The two hours fly by, but you’ve made substantial progress and tell Billie she should be able to head back home before noon tomorrow. However, after meeting you she is not so eager to leave anymore.

When wrapping up your work, you go through closing the garage and Billie observes you the whole time. You notice her checking you out as you walk around and work, but don’t mind. In fact you can’t help but check her too. 

Then you lead her out to your old pickup truck and quickly clean out the passenger side while apologizing for your messy car. But she doesn’t seem bothered. She’s too occupied with you to notice anything else.

As you drive home, you ask if she minds music and Billie says no. So you turn on the radio to a classic rock station. Then you absentmindedly start to sing along and Billie nearly swoons at the whole thing. No one has ever had this effect on her before. She’s supposed to be the one who makes others swoon. Not the other way around…But she likes it.

When you get to your home you coyly explain you need to take a shower before making dinner. But you mention that you don’t mind if she joins. Let’s just say...Billie jumps on the opportunity (and you) and even though she wasn’t that dirty, Billie takes special joy in washing you off and massaging away any tension or soreness you have.

After taking a shower that’s long enough for the water to run cold, you both step out and since Billie doesn’t have extra clothes you offer one of your old, oversized Harley Davison shirts to wear. Seeing her only wearing your shirt that falls about mid-thigh on her does things to you and when she sees you so effected she starts to get bold in her flirting too.

In the end you warm up some cheap, frozen meal that’s nothing fancy, but the whole time you’re getting it together, Billie is wrapped around you, hugging you from behind or your side earning the nickname “spider monkey.” When you actually sit to eat both of you watch the other closely with shared grins and small giggles. Then cleaning up is super easy with Billie’s help and you head over to your living room.

You sit in your recliner as usual and Billie pauses for a moment looking between you and the couch. But her eyes linger on you longer and seeing the debate in her head leads you to hold out your hand toward her, offering a solution. She takes it with a smile and you guide her to sit on your lap.

Once again she’s used to being the caretaker, but is glad to let someone else take the lead and easily cuddles into you as the tv plays. And although now words are spoken, the way you hold her in a warm embrace makes Billie no longer regret this trip. In fact, she may stay a couple more days if it means being with you.

 Lana Winters

While you and Lana can’t get married or have an official wedding in the 1970s, you solidify your relationship by buying a house together.

It’s an old, cottage-like home without any prying neighbors around to spy on you both. When you first enter the home, in your excitement you pick Lana up and carry her bridal style across the threshold for the first time.

While you have the keys to the house, there’s still a lot of work to do to the point that it’s not livable yet. So you and Lana take the time to look around the home deciding how to decorate and design your home. Then you begin to clean the house.

Both of you work hard on dusting, vacuuming, and wiping down every surface in your home leaving you both sore. Luckily when you return to the apartment you currently live in both of you take a nice hot bath to soothe your sore muscles. And it’s good to just spend time relaxing together.

Once you finish cleaning, you work on painting and decorating each room with different vibrant colors. Fortunately, Lana brings her radio so you can both listen to music while painting. But it’s still exhausting work and leaves you crabby sometimes if you go too long without a break.

So when Lana notices you starting to look worn out or tired, she’ll set down her paint-roller before guiding you to set yours down. Then she’ll pull you into a spontaneous dance. Sometimes it’s slow and relaxed, and other times the music is fun and upbeat. Either way it does help you to feel better.

Even though both of you aren’t conventionally attractive at the moment, you have never felt more attracted to Lana with her barefaced, thoroughly worn overalls with paint speckled on them, and a simple ponytail. And she loves seeing you like this too, finding something about simple domesticity to be beautiful. 

The day you and Lana are finished painting, you start to pack up all of your belongings and slowly move them over to the house. It takes 5 trips between the places and even then you have the unfortunate realization that your mattress won’t fit into your car. So after wrestling with the bed for over an hour to no avail, you both are spent and give up.

Thankfully, Lana is a literal angel and when she sees you on the verge of tears, she runs out to bring home food from your favorite diner. And as she enters with the food you nearly cry in happiness. Then you eat your first meal on the floor since your table is covered in boxes.

After dinner before you can even ask, Lana guides you to climb into her lap and holds you close to her while you both take a moment to rest and listen to the radio. Even though you still have to set up your home it’s such a good feeling having everything here...well almost everything.

Because you couldn’t bring the bed over, you’re stuck with figuring out another option. So you unpack your blankets and pillows before laying them out on your carpeted floor in the living room.

Then you and Lana take a shower to unwind from the day and change into your pajamas. And even though it isn’t quite dark yet you slide under the covers and cuddle into each other, completely exhausted.

Once you’re settled you are finally able to hear the outside noises and it’s so different compared to ambient city sounds and you’ve never stayed out in the countryside before. So with each animal sound or gust of wind you perk up and grip on her while whisper asking if Lana heard it too.

She chuckles at your reaction and soothes that you’re safe with her. And to give you a small distraction from the eerie silence you talk about future house plans and keep softly talking until you both naturally fall asleep.

While you’re on the floor and it’s nowhere near as comfortable as your bed, you both sleep like rocks from working hard all day and end up getting more than 8 hours of sleep with no nightmares to haunt Lana’s dreams. 

The next morning you wake up to the sun shining in your eyes and Lana lazily rubbing your back as you rest on her chest. All of the sounds, smells, and sights around you are almost mystical compared to the city. But you can definitely get used to this.

You ask if you’re preventing her from getting up, but she says no and holds you closer while you both talk about different things, enjoying the unfamiliar, but pleasant feeling of the cool morning air and environment.

Eventually you do get up to make breakfast and while you’re on pancake flipping duty, Lana rummages around to find the coffee maker to make some. Fortunately, she finds it and brews some for both of you to drink. 

You eat your breakfast on the floor like last night before slowly beginning to unpack the boxes and setting up your home. And by the evening you are able to eat dinner at your table. Also, you somehow managed to finagle your bed into the car and set it up to sleep in for tonight.

Tonight both of you are much less tired so when you head to bed and Lana mentions that you haven’t technically christened the home yet. You are more than happy to make love in your new home for the first time without having to hold back or be quiet since there aren’t neighbors around.

(https://duchessfics.tumblr.com/post/617775020854345728/gaia-ki-cordelia-saying-i-love-you-to-misty) 

Cordelia Goode

Is Cordelia the supreme? Yes. Did her wisdom teeth still grow in for some reason? Also, yes. Because they’re starting to cause problems, she visits the dentist and they recommend getting them removed. The only thing is she needs someone to drive her and take care of her while she heals but she doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it.

Mallory is busy with Coco, Zoe with Madison, Misty is off with Stevie god knows where, and Queenie knows of your crush for the supreme even if you won’t admit it. She’s seen you two tip toe around the topic and decides to volunteer you for the job so you’ll finally admit your feelings for her.

Honestly if Cordelia trusted anyone to take care of her it would be you. On the way to the dentist she’s eerily quiet. But even as the supreme, Cordelia is still human and feels anxious about the surgery. And in the car ride she drinks a tea she personally concocted with specific leaves to help wane her immunity as the supreme. It’s not that her powers are lost, they’re just dulled enough for the anesthesia to work.

By the time you’re at the office, her supremely glow is gone and to you she almost looks physically different. But you know the tea worked so both of you walk in and you keep on high alert for any possible threat towards your supreme.

Shortly after signing in they call Cordelia back to begin the process. You automatically stand up to go with her, but pause to ask if she even wants that. Before you can even finish your sentence, she takes your hand to keep you close.

Cordelia continues to hold your hand while she sits in the patient’s chair and the dentist explains what’s going to happen. And when they ask if she has any follow up questions, she’s too nervous to think of any, but you ask about a couple things that she’s grateful you think of.

Then they say they’ll get her ready for the removal. So you wish her luck trying to sound calm, but walk out to the waiting room feeling anxious as well. Within an hour the dentist comes out to you and says everything went well and she’s slowly waking up. So they let you go to her and tell you to take your time getting her up.

When you walk in and see your supreme reclined on the patient’s chair, she looks high as a kite. And your appearance makes her mumble something about her girlfriend. That catches your attention and you hesitantly ask who she’s talking about.

The question makes her have a fit of laughter however she groans in pain so you rush up to her to settle her back down. Then she clings to your hand and says with her mouth full of gauze that you’re her girlfriend because she loves you.

Or in her words she “loves you so, so, so, so, infinitely so’s y/n. Wait infinity loves. I loves infinity--wait I love infinitely. Y/n—fuck—I love you infinitely, infinity x infinity.” And you can’t help but giggle at your supreme confessing her love so clumsily.

But you quickly regret that when she begins to cry thinking you’re making fun of her. Before she gets too worked up you kneel before her and apologize saying you weren’t trying to make fun of her. You just thought she was cute.               

For some reason those words provoke her to try to sit up before standing up, but you snap into action and keep her from doing so, unsure if she even could stay standing at the moment. In response she tries to resist while growling with her mouth full of gauze that she’s the fucking supreme. And before she gets upset enough to trigger her powers you assure her that you know she’s the supreme and ask once she’s resettled ask how she feels.

That leads her to relax and tell you how she’s feeling. But as she does instead of using normal pet names towards you like “sweetheart” or “darling” she keeps calling you poptart and cheese-it. Both of which she never even eats. 

Fortunately one of the dental assistants brings in the take home kit with instructions. Then you help Cordelia up and slowly make your way home. But it takes everything in you to not laugh at her behavior.

When you get back to the house, you manage to sneak Cordelia to her room without running into anyone and by the time you coax her to gargle saltwater, take pain meds, and change her gauze she’s completely exhausted and you are too. So you prop her up so she doesn’t hurt her mouth when she sleeps before laying beside her on the bed. And the last thing she says is, “Love you, pop tart.” before you both fall asleep.

By the time you wake up to give Cordelia the second dose of pain medicine she already has her supremely glow back and is way more recovered than the average person. But you still. Help and feed her a small meal to prevent nausea. Then you help her gargle saltwater and replace the gauze and she passes out again.

24 hours later Cordelia is almost completely healed and takes care of herself. However she never mentions anything about what she said and doesn’t act differently whatsoever. You try to as well, but you just can’t forget her words. So you go to Zoe and explain what happened. She encourages you to be honest with the supreme and see how she responds. Then she assures you that Cordelia won’t be upset. If anything she has a soft spot for you.

That afternoon when you see Cordelia alone in the greenhouse you come out and hesitantly explain what she said the other day, but you also recognize that it was the anesthesia talking. While she didn’t remember that, she does admit she has feelings for you, and you admit you have feelings for her. So you decide to try going out on a date and she promises you that she won’t call you ‘pop tart.’ again.

(https://stoneharts.tumblr.com/post/101329124928/bette-being-a-cutie-pie-in-4x04-edward-mordrake) 

Bette and Dot Tattler 

When you find out Bette and Dot have never been to the beach before you’re shocked because they live in Florida. But you also make a point to take them to one.

One day you wake them up while it’s dark and have them get dressed before leading them to your packed car. You know they aren’t big fans of surprises so when they sleepily what’s happening you say you’re going to the beach.

When Bette and Dot find out they’re both excited and nervous about sneaking out. But you assure them it’s a day off for everyone and you told Eve what you’re doing so she could explain where you are if anyone asks. So they happily get into your car.

You drive to a virtually private beach and lay out a blanket on the sand. Then the 3 of you sit together to watch the sunrise. For now you sit beside Dot and hold her hand, smiling as you hear their gasps of amazement.

Once the sun is fully risen you tell them to stay put and go back to the car. Then you bring back a breakfast you packed to share with them. Bette and Dot knew you loved them both, but they are still shocked at how thoughtful and considerate you are unlike nearly everyone else in their lives.

By the time you finish eating it’s fully light out so you can really see the full expanse of the Atlantic Ocean now. You offer to take them closer honestly Bette and Dot haven’t swam in years and have never been to a body of water large enough that you can’t see the other side. So, they’re a little apprehensive. 

You promise to stay with them the whole time and hold Bette’s hand as you murmur soothing words over the roar of the ocean and guide them closer.

When you get to the damp sand where waves briefly touch enough to change the texture, both Bette and Dot freeze up and won’t move. So you try to comfort them by saying you’ll step up first. Then you let go of Bette’s hand and walk only a couple steps away.

Both sets of eyes watch the waves rush over your feet and you assure them with a smile you’re ok and they will be too. Then you hold out your hands and beckon them closer. They cautiously step closer into the soaked and more shifty sand and Bette takes one of your hands while Dot takes the other.

When the water rushes over their feet they gasp and back up a little at the cold temperature. But you slowly guide them back and soothe it won’t be as cold this time.

They’re skeptical, but when the next wave comes and flows over all of your feet Bette and Dot don’t back away like last time. And when you ask if they’re ok and they say yes with cute little grins on their faces.

After a couple more waves all three of you walk back to your stuff and both women comment about the sand that gets stuck on their wet feet. So you pamper Bette and Dot by wiping their feet clean with a towel when you sit back on the blanket.

When it gets to mid-morning you pull out the matching sun hats you bought for them so they have some protection from the sun. Then the three of you go between lounging on the blanket and going to dip your feet in the water.

Eventually you bring out the lunch you packed and enjoy the meal of different sandwiches, fruit, and of course Bette’s favorite—cupcakes. And as the 3 of you eat and giggle with each other you notice how happy they look.

After you return the picnic basket to the car, you lead Bette and Dot back to the ocean. But this time you urge them a little further into the water. Unfortunately, there isn’t a swimsuit for them to wear and the only thing they have to wear is their dress. So you keep yours on too and keep them steady whenever the waves come. 

Because they can’t really swim that well you only go out until the water meets your knees and hug them close while softly encouraging them, knowing how nervous they are. Thankfully the water is calmer today so you help them to lower into the water and they get excited that they look ‘normal’ because the water is high enough to make their heads look separate from each other.

You understand their joy about for once in their lives not looking like freaks, but also assure them that you love them both just as they are. Bette and Dot will always be your girls. Then you help them stand back up and lead them back to your spot before setting up an umbrella to block out some of the afternoon sun. 

Then you lay out on the blanket and hold your lovers close to your chest while you dry off. The warmth of the sun feels like a blanket in itself and you end up falling asleep. 

When you wake back up, you panic at Bette and Dot being nowhere near you assuming the worst. But the wind carries their laughter and you look to see them standing by the water and they have their ankles submerged. So you walk over and see they look so happy with slightly burned pink noses and cheeks from the sun. Even Dot looks unusually happy.

Then the sisters thank you for taking them and making the day so special. And you assure both women you’re more than happy to do that for them before giving each woman a kiss. And while you need to head back to the freak show you promise to bring them back to the beach again.

 Sally McKenna

After walking in to see your partner cheating on you in your own home you run off devastated. That’s how you end up stumbling into the Hotel Cortez, barely holding yourself together.

The first thing you do is tearfully check into the hotel and that’s when Sally notices you from the balcony. And after getting your room key you stumble up to the bar where Sally sits. But you don’t even notice her, lost in your own emotional state.

After ordering a drink you find yourself hiding your face and trying to be quiet when you cry and drink. But it’s clear to anyone around that you are miserable.

So Sally meanders over, preying on your vulnerable state, and claiming you as her next victim to kill. When she greets you and mentions your crying, you completely break down while explaining that you caught your partner having sex with someone else.

Then you mention how everyone always ends up leaving you behind in the end. Sally is caught off guard by the comment since she’s usually the one to say that. But she just assumes you’re trying to trick her only to take advantage of Sally with your tears. So she keeps buying you drinks to dull your senses and kill you.

Once you seem drunk enough Sally tells you she has an idea “to keep you distracted.” Of course she meant that in a seductive way. But her sultry, suggestive tone goes completely over your head and you say sure before leading her to your hotel room.

When you enter the room you ask if she’s ever seen your favorite childhood movie. The random question throws Sally off but she answers no, already working on removing her coat and deciding on how to kill you. 

Luckily with the freshly renovated hotel the TVs include streaming services, so you fall/hop onto the bed while excitedly telling her it’s on Netflix. Sally stops undressing when she sees you using the remote to find it and asks if you are seriously going to watch a dumb kids movie.

Her harsh tone makes you get emotional again and you pathetically whimper that you really like the movie, but you won’t make her stay and watch, knowing it’s lame. And something about your genuinely broken spirit makes her pause. 

Then she hesitantly says she’ll watch it, hoping you’ll pass out soon and killing you will be a lot easier. So you pat the bed inviting her closer and she slowly comes forward, shocked at how easily you let her in. But this isn’t Sally’s first rodeo and you’re not going to trick her that easily.

Throughout the movie you scoot closer to Sally and when your flesh touches hers she starts to feel something other than the empty and lonely feeling of death. There’s not a word she can think of to describe it, but it’s a warm comforting feeling. Almost like a hug. However she credits that to the alcohol so she doesn’t fall for you.

After the movie you tell Sally you’re going to order room service and ask what she would like. The blonde is once again taken aback at your consideration of her, but says she doesn’t want anything, starting to get annoyed at how kind you’re being to her.

So you order something for yourself and as you eat you ask about Sally and her past. However she snaps at you, saying you don’t really care or even if you do you’ll leave her when you learn she’s a monster. That’s when you notice fresh tears streaming down her face.

But you assure her that you’re not asking to be judgmental, just to care. So even though Sally doesn’t divulge everything, she does tell you some small parts of her past, anticipating your repulsion or disgust. However you do the opposite, pulling her into a hug and thanking her for trusting you enough to share.

By now Sally lets is more shocked than upset at your acceptance and you see her smile for the first time. Then you ask if she’ll stay for one more movie and she doesn’t hesitate to agree. This time while the movie plays you lean against her and without speaking she wraps her arms around you.

When tucked in Sally’s embrace you don’t feel her cold, dead aura whatsoever and snuggle into her further. In the process she is encompassed in your warmth and for a moment gets a glimpse at feeling alive once more.

By the time the credits roll you’re fast asleep in Sally’s arms and she remembers her plan to kill you earlier. But she decides against it. Not to make herself some superhero, but because for so long she has been the victim of rejection and you accepted her. You didn’t use her as something for selfish pleasure or take your anger out on her only to leave. Your care was unconditional.

When you wake up the next morning Sally is gone, leaving you confused and almost wondering if you had just dreamed about her. So before you leave, you go to the front desk and ask about Sally and if she’s checked out already. They tell you she’s still here so you leave a note for her before leaving.

It’s only then that Sally comes out from the shadows and looks to see what you wrote to her. And her heart melts when she sees that you thanked her for helping you to feel better and left your number in case she needed someone to talk to.

 (https://charliewrites.tumblr.com/post/174967894140/sarah-paulson-in-american-horror-story-roanoke)

Audrey Tindall

Today is your 1 year anniversary of being Audrey’s girlfriend. So the actress specifically takes the day off to spend it with you. And for once she had the forethought to plan a whole day of activities to do together.

However before you can even leave the house, her first plan goes awry when you slip into her shower to “wish her a happy anniversary.” Did she make a breakfast reservation that you will be late for? Yes. But is she gonna turn down shower sex with you? Absolutely not.

But now because of that distraction Audrey is nearly down the driver’s neck trying to get them to go faster so you aren’t late. But they can only go so fast in stopped LA traffic. However you get her attention to show her one of those airplanes making a message in the sky, blissfully unaware of the stress Audrey is experiencing.

In the end you miss your reservation. However you believe she made the reservation for the place next door and ask how she knew it was your favorite spot. So Audrey just rolls with it and says it was instinct and you eat breakfast there. Then Audrey takes you to one of the walking trails up to the Griffith Observatory.

But you accidentally take the “scenic” trail and what should have been a 1 mile trek ends up being almost 3 miles. And that includes walking a half a mile on a side path thinking it’s the right way.

Because Audrey thought it was going to be a small walk she didn’t bring any water or tell you to wear walking shoes so you end up with some gnarly blisters on your heels. 

The actress feels horrible about it, but you assure her it’s fine and buy some flip flops and bottles of water from the observatory’s gift shop. Then you take your time to look around the observatory and absolutely love it.

Because the walk took so long, you end up eating lunch at some generic, overpriced but subpar lunch place attached to the observatory. The food isn’t great, but the view is amazing. And honestly you’re both so hungry that you’re willing to eat anything.

After this Audrey takes you to Venice Beach to hang out and shop around. But when you get there, the streets are closed off for a huge block party. And to make matters worse, people around begin to recognize her and come up asking for pictures and autographs. 

Audrey feels terrible about everything that’s going wrong and now she has to deal with a swarm of fans. Right away you see her trembling lip and tell people to back off. Then you guide her into a nearby antique shop. Luckily the owner saw everything and locks the door after you enter while saying you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.

You quickly thank him, but guide Audrey who has teary eyes to a section of the store that’s not visible to the windows and ask if she’s ok. While she’s clearly shaken up she nods. But she also tearfully apologizes for ruining the day.

However you silence her with a kiss and soothe she isn’t ruining the day at all. That’s when you both see an older woman you assume to be the owner’s wife and freeze up, concerned about how she will act about your relationship. But she just offers a smile and says she just made some lemonade, offering the privacy of their breakroom.

You follow her back and sit with the older couple while drinking lemonade and end up having a good time just listening to how they got together and they came to own the shop. By the time you say goodbye it’s nearly evening the group of fans is gone, but they let you exit out the backdoor just in case.

While walking down the street you pause at a local restaurant that looks delicious for dinner. Audrey goes to protest saying she made a reservation at some fancy, a-list restaurant. But honestly both of you look pretty rugged with no time to clean up and you are interested in going here. So she agrees to eating where you want since every other plan she’s made has gone to shit.

Because the restaurant is nearly empty of guests, when the server finds out it’s your one year anniversary, they offer a special discount and free dessert. Then they do their best to make the setting as romantic as possible.

In the process you meet the owner and their whole family when each one comes out to congratulate you on your anniversary. The food is delicious and even though Audrey had other plans, this is way better.

When you finish dinner, Audrey sees the sky is overcast to the point that you won’t be able to see the sun actually setting. But you assure her you would love to go to the beach anyways even to just to dip your feet in the water.

So you go to the nearest beach and while you walk along the shore (holding hands of course) you tell her you have loved today. She stops in confusion because everything that could go wrong did and she let you down. But you pull her close to kiss her lips and assure her that you wouldn’t change a thing about today and that you love her so much.

She happily replies that she loves you too. Then it starts to rain. And not like a light sprinkle either. It’s pouring rain that leaves you drenched to the bone within minutes. Audrey looks up and waves her fist at the sky as she curses it for raining this one night when it’s sunny in LA every other day.

But you giggle and end her dramatic monologue with a long kiss before running back to your car. By the time you’re riding home both of you are soaked. But you don’t mind and you promise Audrey that you have made some plans of your own for her when you get back to your bedroom.

 Ally Mayfair-Richards

Recently Ally has been super busy working on her re-election campaign as senator. Of course you are her #1 booster and supporter. And you want to do something special for her to help lighten Ally’s load.

So tonight you and Oz decide to make a special dinner for Ally. As usual Ally texts you that she’ll be working late so you have plenty of time to work. Then Oz tells you her favorite meal and you both go out shopping to get the necessary ingredients.

Once you return, Oz pulls out the cookbook with the instructions and sits up on the countertop (Something Ally would NEVER allow) to stay next to you while reading the steps as you cook. But...here's the thing: You have no idea how to cook—at all.

So Oz grimaces as he watches you and tries to help you along with little helpful tips. But he’s a kid—not an experienced cook like Ally.

You struggle through it and know you’re messing things up. But you’re hopeful a couple mistakes here and there won’t be too noticeable. As you finish cooking, Ally texts you she’s headed home so you and Oz run around, setting the table and finishing the dinner. And as you haphazardly pour one of the wines you randomly picked into her glass (Because—let’s be honest you have no idea how to pair wine) the door opens.

As soon as Ally walks into her home, her nose wrinkles at the smell of burnt food and other concerning scents. So she calls out your name before doing anything else, hoping nothing happened, and you reply you’re in the dining room.

When she walks in, her eyes widen at seeing the dangerous-looking meal and Oz’s expression of concern and disgust. But her attention is drawn to you when you tell her you made dinner with a nervous smile.

Seeing all of the effort you put in makes Ally’s heart melt and even though she’s concerned, she goes along with it, thanking you and sitting down. She could struggle through one subpar meal to make you feel good—but then the three of you start to eat.

The first bite Oz takes, he gags and says “Yuck!” That makes Ally shoot him a warning look. However, she nearly chokes when she takes the first bite. So she tries to conceal that by washing it down with a generous sip of wine. But then she actually does choke at the horribly paired food and drink.

At this point you want to die in humiliation and hide your face in your hands. You know Ally is the “bread winner” so that should make you the homemaker. But you have no idea how to “home make.” That has never come natural to you. So you do one thing that you do know how to do and apologize.

Right away, Ally takes your hand and guides you to look at her while soothing that she doesn’t mind cooking. But you explain that you wanted to be helpful and alleviate stress and you just made everything worse for her. She assures you that she finds cooking to be cathartic and just having you and Oz around makes everything better.

So you throw away the disappointment of a meal and all 3 of you head into the kitchen. However most of the necessary dishes are dirty from your cooking so you offer to wash them while Ally takes off her makeup and gets into lounge clothes.

So she heads to your room and you and Oz get to work washing and drying the dishes. As you both finish up, Ally walks in to see him perched on the countertop and drying dishes next to the sink. So she scolds him about sitting there and Oz just throws you under the bus saying that you let him do that all the time.

You try to deny the accusation, but both Ally and Oz know you are horrible at enforcing rules, so you apologize and tell Oz in your “stern” voice no more sitting on the countertop. However, they both know if he sits up there and you’re home alone you’ll ultimately let him do it.

That’s the moment when you take in Ally. Not senator Mayfair-Richards, just your love, Ally with her oversized sweater and cute, little ponytail at the nape of her neck with a couple loose hairs that are too short to stay held back frame her face. 

You let her take the lead and watch her come alive as she does the cooking and delegates you to do different side tasks that don’t risk something being over or under cooked. Meanwhile Oz sits at the mini bar and tells his mom about his day. These ordinary moments between the three of you are not very common, but they’re your favorite moments.

In less than an hour, the 3 of you are back in the dining room with an excellent, homemade dinner. You all happily eat the late night meal before going over to the living room and watching a TV show Oz chooses.

He lays across your laps to watch it so he can lean on you while Ally gently strokes his hair and by the end he’s asleep. Then you gather him in your arms before picking him up and carrying him to his bed while Ally follows behind and whispers her shock that you can still actually hold him. Somehow he never wakes up so you gently lay him down and Ally tucks his blankets around him, placing a kiss on his forehead before walking out.

Then you both go down to the kitchen and Ally drinks a couple glasses of wine at the mini bar while you clean up from dinner. Of course she wants to help you, but you insist on her sitting while you take care of everything. And as you go, you ask how her day was.

Ally tells you about her long day and asks your opinion on a couple of the decisions she is considering. While you have little to no experience in politics, she’s thankful that you listen to her and if Ally asks, she knows you’ll always choose what’s best for her unlike other “helpful” politicians.

When you finish up, Ally walks over to you and admits that telling you what to do earlier as you both cooked felt good and asks if you would consider being told what to do in the bedroom by her so she could “relieve the remaining stress from the day.” Of course you are more than happy to oblige in submitting to Ally and let her guide you up to your bedroom.

 (https://lauramaher25.tumblr.com/post/179727949356/ahs-ms-wilihemina-venable)

Wilhelmina Venable

You know Wilhemina truly loves you when she begrudgingly agrees to go to Disneyland for your birthday. Of course you butter up the deal by purchasing VIP passes so you don’t have to deal with lines—but still.

The night before you can’t hardly sleep because you’re so excited to go to the happiest place on earth for the first time. But Wilhemina makes you stay in bed even though you want to start getting ready for the day at 4 in the morning.

While you couldn’t convince Mina to “officially” disneybound with you, she does wear a casual plum-colored dress, black cardigan, and shorter heels than usual in the same dark purple as her dress. Even her ponytail for today is less formal then her work coiffure.

On the other hand, you’ve pulled all the stops to disneybound as Snow White. Your outfit has been planned for weeks down to the smallest detail and having your girlfriend looking like the evil queen will make amazing pics.

When you get to the park, you nearly bounce around like a kid with excitement. Wilhelmina watches you with narrowed eyes making her look even more like a Disney villain, but lets you have your moment, only complaining when you go to take a selfie with her. And even then, she manages to give a small smile in the photo.

After you pick up your VIP passes you go to get your pins for your first visit and your birthday. You also get a first visit pin for Mina, but that’s when you find out this isn’t her first time to Disneyland. Then you slowly make your way down main street, stopping to look at every shop. In the process you have the redhead help you choose between two sets of ears and choose a pair for her to wear.

If looks could kill, you would be on death’s doorstep from her glare. At first she says no and remains firm in her answer. However you pull the ole “it’s your birthday and your first time at Disneyland” card so she spitefully wears them, grateful that they’re at least purple. But when you go to buy more merchandise, Wilhelmina drags encourages you out to actually get to the rides.

After taking WAY too many pictures around main street and in front of the castle, you begin to make your way through the park. Your first attraction is the tiki room. Then you share your first dole whip before going on the Jungle Cruise.

That ride just about kills Wilhemina and with each corny joke she lets out a soft groan, pained at how dumb these jokes really are. But she tries to not ruin the moment for you. Meanwhile you crack up at every joke.

Next you ride Pirates of the Caribbean and love it, constantly looking around to take everything in and pointing out Jack Sparrow each time as if Mina doesn’t notice the very obvious lighting and animatronic of him. On the other hand, the red head totally forgets there’s a drop and she lets out an adorable little squeak in surprise that only you hear. Because you like it so much you ride it again and ride Haunted Mansion twice too.

In between the attractions you practically skip along and with any character you pass—literally any character—you will wave at them and would stop to take photos, but Wilhemina drags you along keeps you moving.

As you walk through the park, you notice a couple kids gasp when they see Mina or point at her. Of course the redhead is offended and cold towards them, but then you realize they’re calling her princess Ariel. And at one point while you’re sitting to eat some churros a little girl shyly comes up to you both and says to Wilhemina that she’s her favorite princess before asking how Flounder and Sebastian are doing.

Mina is flabbergasted and for a moment just looks at the girl with wide eyes, bewildered that she would ever think of Wilhemina as a princess. However she pulls herself together enough to say that they're doing well. Then the girl says goodbye and runs back over to her family.

And while Mina has never been a kid person, being called a “princess” by different kids does make her smile a little bit. No one else would notice, but you do.

When you pass by Splash Mountain Wilhemina says no when you ask to ride. So even though you plead to go on it, you keep walking. The only other attraction she says no to is It’s a Small World. Even passing by the facade and hearing the faded music makes her shudder and declare she would rather puncture her own ear drums than go through that.

When it comes to the parade, even though Mina hates crowds, she sits with you and watches you call out to characters like the other kids around. Of course she gives you her trademark look of silently asking if you are really acting like this. However the redhead does secretly find it a little adorable.

Tomorrowland is your last “land” and that’s when you find out Mina kicks ass at Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters. The first time you rode she blew you out of the water and ranked as a 1st class Ranger with a whopping score of 749,000 points and the next time she scored even higher.

For dinner you reserved a special table where you can watch the fireworks while eating. However during the whole show you forget to even touch your food, gasping at everything that happens and trying to take it all in. And because you look so damn adorable, before “rational Mina” can make an executive decision, “impulsive Mina” tells you she’ll ride Splash Mountain if you still want to.

You have never eaten a meal so fast in your life and when you finish you practically run to the ride, thanking Mina the whole walk there. Here’s the thing though—she thought it was an up and down one drop deal, like any other log ride. To the point that she took on the noble task of sitting in front of you so you wouldn’t get you special handmade Snow White dress damaged by water. Oh no, there are 3 drops. 3. So by the time you get off poor Wilhemina looks like a drowned cat. But the picture of your faces on the final drop is just too good to not buy it.

And on the way back, even though she’s soaked with cold water, you keep close to Mina on the monorail packed with people headed back to your car. And it feels so good to have her close to you whispering to ask if you had a good birthday. You know this is something she would never, ever choose to do. But her consideration touches your heart and you answer yes before thanking her once again for doing all of this.

Tagged: @marilynroselleprentiss, @saviorinsilk, @chokemepaulson, @versonstar, @find-me-a-constellation, @cordwliagoode, @psychobitchtess, @midnight-lestrange, @mysweetdelia, @venablesbitch, @peachesandlesbians, @nerdaroo, @cordeliafoxxe, @leskaksel, @lovelymspaulson, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @whatabluddymess​, @natasha-danvers, @saucy-sapphic​, @marvelfansince08love​, @wilheminawinters​

Let me know if you would like to be tagged in later works!

[littleoases]

Upcoming f/f novel excerpt

Hi all! Today (8/27) is my birthday, so to celebrate I’m releasing a teaser from my upcoming YA sapphic sports romcom, She Drives Me Crazy. 

(excerpt from Chapter 13, about halfway through the novel) 

“Are you in any rush to get home?” Irene asks as we’re driving back.

“No, why?”

“Let’s stop at my house for a minute. I got you something.”

My heart beats faster. “Like a gift?”

“No, like anthrax.” She side-eyes me. “Yes, a gift.”

We park in her driveway, a place I’ve been many times, and walk into her home, a place I’ve only wondered about. A disjointed part of my brain, the one that lives in an alternate universe where none of this ever happened, cannot process what I’m doing here, sneaking into Irene Abraham’s house on Christmas Eve.

The house is warm and soft lit. The color scheme is different from my family’s home: more sepia and tangerine, wood tones and marble surfaces. Irene pulls off her boots and places them on a shoe rack near the door, then gestures for me to do the same. 

“Come see the tree,” she says. 

She tugs on my wrist but quickly lets go. I follow her into the family room, where she sits on her feet next to the glowing Christmas tree. I hesitate before dropping down next to her.

“It’s fake,” she says. “My mom got tired of the needles.”

“Beautiful, though.”

I touch my finger to a golden light. It’s warm, then it burns. I reach for an ornament instead. It’s handmade from construction paper. The kind of thing a kid brings home from school.

“Oh my god,” I mutter, finding the faded photo glued to the middle. “Please tell me this is you.”

“Of course it’s me. Look at that style game.”

Little Irene wears a sparkly headband, polka-dot sweater, and toothless grin. She might be six or seven years old. There’s no scar in her eyebrow, but her eyes are exactly the same.

“Enough of that,” Irene says with a self-conscious laugh. “Here.”

She hands me a perfectly wrapped box. I rip the paper as gently as I can, acutely aware of her watching me. When I open the case inside, I find **spoiler**.

“I—”

“I kept the receipt in case you don’t like it.”

“No, I love it,” I say breathlessly. 

Her eyes are dancing. I mean to look away from them, but the chance for that passes. I’m looking at her and she’s looking at me and it’s far too late to pretend otherwise.

She bites her lip. “Well—let’s see how it looks.”

Her fingers on my skin are fire. I’ve never stopped to notice our hands together, the contrast of skin tones, the interplay of her polished rings and my bitten-down fingernails. She has a white scar near her knuckle that shines as clearly as the one on her eyebrow. Without thinking, I brush my thumb over it.

“Curling iron,” she says. “Seventh grade.” She twines our fingers together.

“My hands are sweaty,” I whisper, like I’m trying to give her a reason to let go.

“No shit,” she says with that sparkle in her eyes.

I stare at her mouth. I want so badly to lean in, but where would that lead? What would it mean?

“Scottie,” she says softly. “Don’t overthink it.”

“Overthink what?”

“Kissing me.”

I laugh unexpectedly, because it’s the most Irene-ish presumption ever. “God, you’re cocky.”

“I’m right.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say you’ll go on a date with me. A real date.”

It hangs there in the air between us. I search her eyes and she lets me. The sincerity in them scares me so much that I have to look away.

“Scottie.” Her voice is a whisper. “I like you. It’s crazy and unexpected, but there it is. Something is working here.”

“You can’t like me. That’s not . . . we’re not . . .”

“What?”

I shake my head. “This whole thing started because we hated each other, and then we got into a car accident and I paid you to be my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, it’ll make a great story for our kids. Will you lighten up? We’re allowed to like each other.”

I turn my head away. “I don’t get it. You could have anyone.”

“So could you, asshole,” she says. “Why does anyone like anyone? We just do. It’s pretty simple.”

“But I’m—I’m a—”

“Ginger?” She tsks. “Yeah, it’s surprising to me, too, but I did have a thing for Anne of Green Gables in second grade.”

I laugh out loud. “Shut up.”

She smiles. It’s open and earnest and wanting. “I love when I get you to laugh.”

We look at each other again. My heart is drumming beneath my sweater. Irene inches forward the slightest bit, and so do I, and we hesitate for only a moment.

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers again.

***

***

***

SDMC releases April 20, 2021. Pre-order now. 

You can message me here. 

[phoebehalliwell]

♡ a valentine’s day rare pair extraordinaire ♡ tenth place ♡ piper halliwell & derek (little monsters) ♡

valentine's day for piper and derek was always kind of less about valentine's day for them and more about valentine's day for their kids

i mean, the preschool went, like, ape for valentine's, more than piper had ever remember happening when she was a kid

she had picked up the kids from school (her and derek had a carpool, it was more eco-chic) and both little toddlers had been gripping flyers with, like, a fourteen point bulletin on how valentine's day was going to work for the parents

and piper kind of saw this coming you know she did some scoping out of the preschool before she had enrolled wyatt she knew it was going to be like this

derek was completely blindsided

he stared at the pink flyer on his counter as wyatt and cyrus played in the living room and piper made tea in the kitchen

she had gotten into the habit of staying an extra hour or two (or three) in derek's house after dropping off cyrus

initially it had been, like, a utility thing, like derek's house was an absolute mess from his time as a monster, and when he first got his son back, piper had practically forced her way in to baby proof the place

she had also gotten cyrus enrolled in the same school as wyatt and would regularly drop of dinners in tupperwares from the to of them, because, hey, she knew how difficult it was to be the single parent of a magical baby

also wyatt loved spending time with cyrus. and she really liked spending time with derek

and, you know, it had been three months now, the house was fine, actually, it was more than fine, it was beautiful — bright, clean, open — hell, piper and derek had even gone to a local nursery and bought some new flowers for the backyard to bring in some color

actually, an unforeseen consequence of that was, if no one was watching cyrus, he would shimmer out into the garden and eat the buds off the plants with his manticore tongue

definitely not funny the first time, piper and derek damn near had a heart attack trying to figure out whether those plants were poisonous or not, but by the third or fourth time, it really started to become a running joke

piper had even picked out a floral wallpaper for cyrus's room

the wallpaper had yet to arrive, though, so there was no maintenance to be done around the house, but piper was there anyway, bustling around the kitchen and laughing at the horrified look on derek's face

"why is it that that valentine's day list had you more scared than the manticores?"

"i... did you know they do this? thirty two valentines!"

"okay, well, thirty one, actually, cyrus isn't going to give a valentines to himself"

piper slid derek a mug of tea. he worried too much. cyrus had join school late in the year, and derek was always worrying whether or not he'd make friends and be liked and also if he'd teleport out of class unexpectedly. there was a lot to worry about

"i'll tell you what: why don't we make the valentine’s together, i’ve got a bunch of craft paper and glitter glue at the manor”

derek smiled at her. she was... he couldn’t find the words. a soft, golden light in a kickass five two frame. the most powerful magical being he had ever seen and the kindest soul he had ever met. he wrapped his hands around the mug, not looking away from piper

“what?”

“nothing, nothing. i just- thank you. you don’t have to do all this, you know.”

“oh, come on. what, and leave you hanging? you know, i saw this place before it got all fixed up, i’m not leaving you on your own.”

there was a playful tone to it, but there was something underneath. piper kind of just wanted to end the sentence at i’m not leaving you. she didn’t want to. sure, she could say that she spent all this time here out of a genuine concern for his well being, but that wasn’t quite true

it was true, it just wasn’t the whole truth

the whole truth wasn’t she hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and she wasn’t sure how to say that

the next day derek was on pick-up duty, and piper already had a little craft station for the kids set up on the dining room table

derek supervised, teaching wyatt and cyrus the ancient art of folding a paper in half to cut a heart shape, while piper tempered chocolate in the kitchen

(“what, am i gonna tape little dove chocolates to these valentine’s? give me a break, i’m a chef for crying out loud, can you please hand me the chocolate pieces?”)

wyatt got super in to wrapping all of the chocolates in bright pink foil, cyrus was on the other end of the assembly line attaching them to the valentine’s with glitter glue

each boy had a little pile of heart shaped valentine’s for everyone in the class sitting at the end of the table

piper sifted through them, making sure all the names were spelled correctly as according to the multi-step flyer they had received

“wait, derek, you have thirty two valentines here, you were only supposed to make thirty one.”

“no, there’s supposed to be thirty-two.”

“no, there’s not.”

piper shuffled through cyrus’s little pile of hearts, trying to find which name was duplicated. her eyes caught on one valentine that was definitely not written in a child’s handwriting

it was addressed to piper

[tybaku]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30691259/chapters/77712440

Midoriya Izuku finds the incarnation of beauty and divinity sitting at a window of a hole-in-the-wall café just a few blocks away from home.

Or: An artist in search of inspiration unexpectedly finds a new muse.

Chapter 2: Him

Bakugou Katsuki finds himself standing at the foot of an altar fit for something more than a god at a quarter to 1.

The day is bright and clear, and the sun is hot on his head and shoulders. It’s too early to be out here, and yet too late, and there was already a thin crowd formed, curled around the centerpiece like a halo, or a crown. Katsuki shifts where he stands, dark eyes never leaving the piece of art on the bricked alleyway wall. He barely breathes.

He had been dragged here not out of his own accord, directly after a nearly two hour long elective class that was nothing but a bore, despite it sounding vaguely interesting down on paper.

“Analysis of Modern Art and Media 101” taught by Aizawa Shouta had been a bust of a class to choose, and each time Katsuki attends he wonders why the hell there is more of the same damn class, judging by the fact there was a 101 tacked on at the end of the name, and also it was probably the most soul-sucking class he was taking this school year. Katsuki doesn’t even care about art!

And yet, he’s still standing here. He’s standing here in a dingy, dirty back alley and gawking up at this piece of artwork like some kind of fool, his hands curling up inside his pockets. There’s a red warmth to his face that isn’t from the afternoon sun, and vaguely he thinks, maybe he could learn to care about art. Maybe he could learn to care because of this and this only.

“It’s me,” Katsuki says, not fully aware of his surroundings, or the murmurs that trickle about the little sea of people in the alleyway that are witnessing the same thing he is.

Because it is him, it’s the best version of him he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s a perception of him so pure and human, and flawless to the point where it’s perfection is debatable, and he has to take another look at it to really see what’s there. He’s wrong, the painting isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic. It isn't flawless, but it’s him, really and truly him; near flesh as it can get with its graffiti lines and colors and shapes.

Katsuki doesn’t want to look away.

Kirishima, the very guy who had brought him out here to view the godly offering on the wall, then pats his shoulder and grips onto him. “It’s you, man. Your mentions are sky high,” he says, eyebrows raised and obviously impressed. He shakes Katsuki a little when he becomes the victim of a dirty looking side-eye, wearing a little frown. “What?”

Katsuki shrugs his shoulder harshly, effectively shooing his friend off. “The hell you on about, shithair,” he says more than he asks. Kaminari’s head then pops up from beside them unexpectedly, with Ashido right on his toes, smiling from ear to ear. There’s a mischievous little glint in their eyes that they share unabashedly, and Katsuki sneers at it.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? You’re trending!” the other, less important blond exclaims, fishing out his phone to wave it around in Katsuki’s face. “Well, more like the art itself trending, but people are recognizing you! Tagging you in the pics on Insta, at’ing you on Twitter, linking you to this one art blog and shit like—” Kaminari only stops when Katsuki starts to bat his hands at him angrily, irritated at the fact he didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kaminari makes an ugly looking face like he took a whiff of something foul, but Katsuki smells sweet as hell, thank you very much; his shampoo and conditioner have black and white charcoal in them. “Dude do you even check your phone like, ever? This”—Kaminari waves giant circles in front of Katsuki’s portrait as Katsuki himself mumbles a quiet I mute that shit during class—“is trending. Trending.”

Before Katsuki could tear one into him, Ashido pats at her friend’s shoulder, squeezing herself into the terrible excuse of a conversation. “I think he gets it, babe. What Denki’s trying to say is that this”—she gestures to the painting—“is gaining a whole lot of traction right now, not only because it’s stunning, but because the artist is literally one of the biggest deals in Japan right now. Deku’s like, hot-hot. He’s practically famous in the modern art scene, and he just painted your portrait without you even knowing about it. Do you really have no idea how huge this is?”

And, no, Katsuki doesn’t know, since there wasn’t even a reason why he would know in the first place (again, that modern art class sucks, and even though Aizawa-sensei was good enough of a teacher, Katsuki sometimes thinks even he didn’t want to be teaching it from the way he talks and lectures so tonelessly, a whole new level of bored flat) so the only thing he can do is blink, and blink, and glare as he tries to take in this new information.

It’s weird, isn’t it? Katsuki has never heard of this “Deku” guy, despite his supposed status, and suddenly he’s got a whole mural dedicated to him by the guy? He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with any of this, and he can’t even bring himself to be angry about it. He’s just confused, out of place, and so damn flattered that it’s absolutely ridiculous. Someone painted his portrait and painted it well. It should feel freaky, because it is; it’s an unfathomable situation, but it doesn’t really feel anything less than nice. Really damn nice.

“Oh my god,” Kaminari gasps suddenly, the back of his hand hitting the top of Ashido’s chest in exaggerated shock and disbelief, “do you guys know what this means?”

Katsuki’s eyes find their way back to himself. His profile is sharp and frustrated. Kirishima gasps, eyes blown wide in anticipation. “What?” he asks Kaminari quickly, ever the little worrywart of their group. Katsuki raised an eyebrow.

Kaminari goes smug, a little warp appearing in his dumb smile. “Kats-kun here’s got a not-so-secret admirer,” he sings in a tease, wiggling a little in place.

Despite the weird feeling curling in his chest, Katsuki scoffs at the claim, rolling his eyes. “More like a stalker,” he says, but his so-called friends outright ignore him, and turn their attention to, well, him.

Ashido giggles in delight, clapping her hands. “Oh that’s so true, there’s no way this isn’t a romantic thing! I mean, he even got Kats’ little pouty glare right!” she exclaims loud enough for everyone in the alley to overhear, like an idiot.

Katsuki narrows his eyes, and he swears one of them twitches. “My what,” he says more than asks.

Kaminari decides to take the mic, like a dumbass. “You know that thing you do when you get all frustrated about something and you try to pout, but it looks more like you wanna commit first degree murder or something?”

Katsuki doesn’t have any chance to maim him for the explanation he has unfortunately asked for, because Ashido is shrieking again, grabbing Kaminari and holding him close to her in excitement. “Oh my gosh, you’re so right! This is so romantic!” she draws it out annoyingly, before it becomes a straight up whine. “That’s so unfair! Why are you getting romanced and not me?”

And it’s not his place to say, so “Because Spikey has no balls,” stays trapped in between Katsuki’s grit teeth.

Sero then miraculously appears from somewhere behind Kaminari, a muffin and even Shinsou in tow, and Katsuki groans up to the sky when instead of saying something useful he decides to say, “They got that little beauty mark on his cheekbone too,” with a stupid smirk.

Blinking tiredly, Shinsou adds on “That’s some attention to detail,” like it means anything. “Though they missed most of the other ones.” He starts to unwrap his own muffin, peeling back the thin paper with his teeth. Katsuki wants nothing more than for him to choke on it.

“Hanta! Hitoshi!” Kaminari yells, as if the pair of them weren’t standing barely three feet from him. He reaches over and happily pulls Shinsou under his arm as Sero stalks over to Ashido. “Where you’ve been! You missed the big reaction!”

Sero lifts his hand. “Getting a muffin,” he says flatly.

Shinsou nods in agreement, humming in amusement. “Bet he blushed like a flower.” He takes a bite out of his muffin as Kaminari laughs and jokingly goes to bite at the bread.

And if Katsuki goes a little warm in the face at the dumb claim, it’s no one’s damn business. “What the hell does that even mean,” he snarls unkindly, crossing his arms.

Shinsou unwraps the other side of his muffin with his hands this time, and actually allows Kaminari to take a small bite. “I said what I said,” he shrugs, unapologetic.

“Oo, new slur dropped.” Ashido wiggles her pink eyebrows. Sero snorts, and Kirishima laughs amiably at her.

Katsuki has terrible friends, he decides, and they all can go burn in the under. He shoots them all a heavy glare they all ignore in favor of oohing and ahhing at his portrait. Shinsou looks over at him after a quick inspection of the piece. “So,” he starts, giving up the rest of his muffin to Kaminari’s grubby little hands, “what’re you gonna do?”

Katsuki raises an eyebrow, expression and stance slanted slightly to the right as he crosses his arms over his chest and cocked out his hip, leaning most of his weight onto one foot. “Hah? The hell you talking about?”

Shinsou blinks plainly at him. “The graffiti, genius. You think it’s weird, right? Figured you want to beat the guy’s face in for painting you without permission, or something.”

Katsuki frowns. Shinsou isn’t wrong really, or at least he shouldn’t be, but Katsuki doesn’t feel like violence was the answer here. (A shocker, he knows, but can you blame him? It’s like wanting to punish the Earth for rotating, or the sun for setting at the end of the day. Punishing the moon for moving the tides, and many other metaphors Katsuki can’t think of at the moment.)

He doesn’t want to go about this the wrong way. Beating his admirer’s (damn it, he means artist, thanks a lot Pinky ‘n Sparky) face into a pulp is definitely the worst approach he could possibly take. There ought to be a better, and much more appropriate option, shouldn’t there? What exactly should be done in this instance? What could he do?

There’s only one thing, really.

“I’m gonna find him.”

—

It’s easier said than done in a weird way, tracking down Deku. He really is a popular and well-known young artist, and his art is plastered practically all over every social media you can think of. He’s got his fair share of admirers and haters, and critiques of his more professional work (he’s not just a street artist like Katsuki had first assumed a few days ago, he’s actually got even better pieces than Katsuki’s portrait, if you can believe it) range from big art magazines to small internet influencers. There’s all kinds of stuff about his artwork, including videos and articles.

Deku’s work speaks to all kinds of people, he finds out.

Though unfortunately, there isn’t any public information about the artist himself. In fact, Deku is a pseudonym, and there is virtually no personal information pertaining to him anywhere. His identity is kept closely underwraps, and any interviews with him are all written word (Katsuki knows this because he has scoured all of Youtube trying to find a video with Deku, and has come up empty handed). Katsuki has absolutely no method of contacting him about the alleyway art, and no way of finding him about town.

Pushing his laptop away an inch, Katsuki sighs and takes a sip of his coffee. He’s hit yet another dead end on this art blog in his search for Deku’s damn contact information. It’s terribly frustrating at this point, because he’s so close it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty sure he’s figured out who Deku actually is: Midoriya Izuku, a journalist who looks to be based here in Musutafu, and the guy whose blog Katsuki’s been snooping through for the past three days.

The guy’s got a plethora of articles and photography on a number of different artists, but according to the internet, he’s more known to be a Deku enthusiast, and most of his material stems from Deku’s artwork. In fact, he’s already got an article up about Katsuki’s portrait, dated three days ago. That was the first giveaway.

If you look through Deku’s official Instagram, Katsuki’s portrait (titled Musutafu Delight, after the side of the café it was painted on, but Katsuki ain’t gonna call it anything else but his portrait) was posted bright and early at 7 in the morning three days ago, and Midoriya’s article on The Canvas about said portrait was posted not ten minutes later. Awfully speedy for someone who is allegedly not even the artist of the piece, no?

And if you read through Midoriya’s blog and Deku’s written interviews, the connection between them becomes even more glaringly obvious due to the fact Midoriya writes his articles similarly to the way Deku does in his interviews, so much so that it couldn’t possibly be counted as a mere coincidence. Their wording and phrasing of things is near exact, and their pools of vocabulary are closely shared.

Plus, you’d have to be an idiot to not see where the artist’s pseudonym comes from.

“Deku can be derived from the same kanji as Izuku. It’s literally the same,” Katsuki had explained to his stupidly incredulous group of friends, who dismissed his “theory” on Deku’s true identity like the bunch of morons they were. The only one who seemed even halfway convinced was Sleepy, and even then he just looked amused at Katsuki’s frustration trying to map out what he was talking about to the rest of the group in his overly simple terms.

Anyway, Katsuki had little to no doubt about Deku’s real identity, but that didn’t exactly mean it made finding the guy any easier. Seriously, what kind of a dimwit doesn’t even put down their email on their own goddamn blog?

Deku, apparently.

Katsuki sighs once more before sipping what was left of his coffee and exiting out of Midoriya’s blog with a dull click. Without any other clear leads, there wasn’t much he could do in regards to finding the guy, and he rather not run himself ragged trying to do so all at once. He could always chase his tail looking for Deku later, since he wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. Such a damn shame.

Unexpectedly a throat clears, and Katsuki looks up halfway prepared to throw a scowl at Kirishima’s stupid little smile (Katsuki told him specifically not to bother him today since he had so much shit to get done, which may or may not have been an excuse to keep on internet “stalking” Deku, as Sparky and Sleepy so eloquently put it), but finds a completely different stupid little smile he doesn’t recognize by a long shot.

It’s a guy with a scatter of freckles all over his face and green highlights in his curly black hair. He has big round eyes and a healthy pink glow to his cheeks. In short, he’s cute, but he carries himself like a wounded animal, a shy and skittish little thing. He looks like a big dork in his glasses and sweater splattered with paint at the hem.

“Hi,” the dork says in a sort of sigh filled to the brim with nerves as his fingertips flinch around the little ringed book he carries in his hands.

Katsuki quickly fits a frown onto his face, intentionally standoffish to lure this four-eyed man away. Somehow, it doesn’t work, and instead of being deterred by the attitude he was putting on, the man sits himself down in the empty seat in front of him, a wobbled smile on his lips. Katsuki narrows his eyes slightly, annoyed but impressed by the gall of the nerdy looking guy.

“Uh, my name is M-Midoriya Izuku, I’m a full time artist and journalist and”—the guy shifts in his seat and lets out a huge huff—“wow, you are super pretty up close.”

Katsuki blinks, and promptly blushes like a flower. (Thanks for that, Sleepy.) He didn’t take Deku for the bold type.

“I, um. That’s not what I—Well, yeah I did mean that, you are very pretty—uh, handsome, but that’s not what I—”

Scratch that, Deku definitely wasn’t the bold type, just the “doesn’t think before speaking” type. Fortunately, Katsuki was well acquainted with those types (i.e. his friends), so he doesn’t find it as annoying as he would've. Plus, Deku wasn’t saying anything bad, he was complimenting him.

“You’re fine,” Katsuki has to cut him off from his quick paced rambling. Every word had sounded like it was stuffed into the last, jumbled and nearly indecipherable.

“You’re Deku, right? I got your message,” he smirks in a tease as he leans back casually. Spikey and Pinky were going to freak when Katsuki told them he found Deku, and Sparky was going to eat his words. (Midoriya isn’t Deku, his ass. All the clues were right there. In plain sight.)

Deku stops, and then color bursts into his face. “How did you…” he drifts off, speechless for the first time since he sat down. Katsuki raises his brows and then holds up a finger in a hold on gesture, clicking his laptop awake and opening up his history tab. He turns the screen so Deku can see all the websites he’s visited in the past three days.

At a glance, it’s obvious everything is related to Deku and his artwork, but Deku’s lips downturn in confusion and Katsuki has to explain. “It’s research. Was trying to find the dork who painted my face on the side of the café,” he says as Deku gives a little squeak. Katsuki clicks the most recent tab and opens up The Canvas, aka Deku’s blog.

“You said your name was Midoriya Izuku? Full time artist and journalist? Izuku can be read as Deku, meaning either you are Deku, you work with Deku, or you’re some freak obsessed with Deku. Your pick,” Katsuki finishes before turning his laptop back toward him and clicking it to sleep.

Deku only gapes at him, eyes wide and shining in something Katsuki could only describe as awe. “You’re amazing,” he says in a certain way that entails he was talking before thinking again, and weirdly enough, Katsuki feels an unexpected warmth in his chest because of it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, by the way. And I ain’t a snitch. It’s obvious you wanna keep your identity a secret. Just knowing I’m right is enough. Did’ya want something from me, Freckles?” Katsuki lolls his head to the side, staring Deku down and ignoring the tingling in his hands.

Deku startles slightly, one step behind and still mouthing Bakugou under his breath like he was trying to familiarize himself with it. Weird, but cute in a way. Deku shifts around in his seat, fiddling around with his fingers in his lap. “Oh well, um. It’s nice to meet you, Bakugou-san, and I, uh…actually had a proposition for you?”

Katsuki wrinkles his nose, but nods at him to continue.

Deku gives him a shy little smile, one that crinkles the tiny freckle above his top lip. “Would you like to model for me?”

[seokoloqy]

Chapter 1: Who Will Rule?

➳ PAIRING: hoseok x reader x namjoon

➳ GENRE: royal!au, interactive

➳ WORD COUNT: 6.1k

➳ WARNINGS: some blood, nothing much

➳ SUMMARY: The king’s bastard son, Hoseok versus Namjoon, the adopted crown prince. Their kingdom is in shambles struggling to figure out who deserves to become their next king. You end up stuck in the middle of their dilemma, discovering new sides to both men as they learn to accept the truth of their birthrights.

➳ A/N: HEADS UP FRIENDS!!! this is an interactive fic!!! This means at the end of each chapter will be a choice and your choices will lead the story and shape your relationship w each character! So I hope you’ll enjoy this wild ride w me

—

“Something wrong?” Yoongi peers into the moving carriage as he walks alongside it, ensuring it’s safe arrival to your destination. He wears a face of worry, hoping you’re not too stressed about the visit to your neighboring kingdom.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, leaning your head against the cushioned seat. Your chest puffs out as you breathe in the chilly air, fingers absentmindedly twirling around each other in circles. “I’m just nervous that’s all.”

The carriage dips slightly when Yoongi stops walking alongside it and he hops onto the side step to lean in further. He rests his arms on the open window, taking a closer look at your expression. “Were you gossiping with your ladies maid again?”

You purse your lips, turning away from Yoongi with a pout and confess, “Yes.”

Often when you were getting dressed in the morning your ladies maid would do your hair and spill all the latest gossip spreading around the castle. The news of your neighboring kingdoms trouble seems to be the latest edition of gossip spreading throughout all the kingdoms.

“The bastard son or the adopted crown prince,” your ladies maid said in a foreboding, storytelling voice as she did your hair.

She spoke of the neighboring kingdom and its current king. With their king unexpectedly falling ill and no good news of his deteriorating condition, they need a king soon, even if the young crown prince, Namjoon, is still learning the ways to properly run a kingdom. 

But, your ladies maid exclaimed, leaning in closely to whisper in your ear, in a fever-induced state the king revealed his longest, darkest kept secret—the truth of his secret affair with a maid and the crown prince's true identity. 

The king had revealed to the entire court that Namjoon was not his biological son, automatically making Namjoon ineligible to rule the kingdom because he did not share the king’s blood. On top of that, the king also admitted he mistakenly had an affair with a maid who became pregnant and gave birth to a son, his first son, Hoseok. Apparently, the king didn’t divulge any more information than that before passing out.

Now you’re on your way to this broken kingdom to marry the crown prince…whoever he’ll be. This marriage alliance is the one thing that will unite your two kingdoms and now it’s on the brink of collapsing if they can’t come up with a true heir soon. 

Although the coronation and wedding have been put on hold as they sort things out, their king gets worse and worse every day. They need to choose a new ruler now and they have no idea who it will be. 

With the revelation of new blood and secret adoptions, your marriage alliance and the next ruler are uncertain. If the crown prince has been adopted there’s not a drop of royal blood that flows through his veins which makes him ineligible to rule and if they chose a Hoseok, who has never been educated on the details of running an entire kingdom, it spells doom for its people. 

You’ve met the crown prince a few times as a child. Namjoon was groomed for this role since birth, and you could see the dedication he had for the position, along with admiration for his father. 

What did it matter if he wasn’t blood? Becoming king is all he has ever known. His position is being threatened by the oldest law, only the king’s bloodline will rule, and you find it unfair for him. 

As for Hoseok, your maid didn’t tell you much because no one really knew who he was before the news. They only knew he was raised by his mother and worked at the castle as a servant his whole life with no idea of who his father was. 

How can they be choosing between Namjoon, someone who has the knowledge of running a kingdom, versus Hoseok, born out of wedlock and raised in a kitchen by the maid? 

“Maybe if the king wasn’t such a whore they wouldn’t be in this mess,” Yoongi admits candidly. “Who knows how many more illegitimate children he has running around?”

“Yoongi!” You gasp, nearly shoving him off your carriage. “Don’t say that!”

Hitting his shoulder doesn’t stop him from continuing.

“Maybe if their king owned up to his mistakes the kingdom wouldn’t be in such shambles right now. Maybe he wouldn’t be dying for his sins,” Yoongi goes on, ranting about how foolish the king had been to let this secret continue till he was on his deathbed. 

Your very opinionated and outspoken knight shakes his head in disappointment. 

“I hate to send you off knowing how unstable things are there. Your father is too stubborn and irrational sometimes,” Yoongi grumbles his thoughts aloud. 

Normally, Yoongi’s criticism of your father would never be uttered anywhere near him, but your bond with Yoongi gives him the confidence that you won’t go spilling his true feelings to your father. 

“I mean, an arranged marriage with the crown prince when they don’t even know who it’ll be yet? He must be insane to think proposing marriage right now is the best timing! What if they chose the bastard son? Then you’ll be stuck with him for the rest of your life. Who knows how many daddy issues he has?” 

Sometimes you think Yoongi acts more like a father figure towards you than your own father. He obviously cares deeply for you.

His tangent goes on for another minute as he explains all the possible negative outcomes that could happen if you were to marry the bastard son.

“Maybe he’s not that bad,” you shrug. Neither of you has met Hoseok yet. It wouldn’t be smart to make judgments and create biases.

Yoongi gives you a tired look, and asks plainly, “would you rather marry charming prince or the frog?” 

“We haven’t met him yet. Don’t be so harsh on just him.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “don’t get me started on Namjoon. I bet he has issues too.”

You’re beginning to feel another one of his long-winded rants coming along. You settle back into your cushioned seat and prepare to relax for your long journey as Yoongi begins his detailed explanation on why both of these men would never be good enough for his princess. It’s so detailed you feel like he had this speech prepared beforehand. 

—

You arrive at the kingdom at dawn just as the yellow sun peeks over the horizon, casting everything in its golden hue. The warm smile, as dazzling as the rising sun, you’re greeted with when you ascend the long steps up to the entrance comes as a surprise. 

Namjoon stands at the entrance, dressed in his formal attire, dark hair pushed out of his forehead to reveal his stunning beauty. You almost trip up the steps, distracted by his dimpled smile.

Beside Namjoon is a knight, dressed similarly to Yoongi, but in their kingdoms fiery red colors. He stands attentively by Namjoon’s side, watching as you and Yoongi approach.

“It’s good to see you again.” Namjoon’s forced greeting comes out strained and far away. 

It’s those few words that make you realize he’s only smiling because he has to. He’s smiling because he can’t show his true feelings in front of you. It’s not hard to understand why especially knowing all that’s happened.

Namjoon even forgets his kingdom’s customary chaste kiss on the cheek because of how distracted he is. So when you lean towards him and he makes no indication to react, you awkwardly pull back to your place besides Yoongi. 

“You too,” you reply, offering a close-lipped smile. His mind is elsewhere, and you don’t blame him for his robotic actions. “How is your father doing?”

Your question slips out without much thought, bringing him back to reality. You only realize your error once a glaze forms in his eyes. 

Does he still call the king his father after finding out the truth or does it hurt too much to think about the years of lies? 

“I apologize,” you bow your head, ears burning from embarrassment, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s alright. But my father is doing fine for now. His condition hasn’t gotten better, but it isn’t deteriorating.”

Nodding, you feel the awkwardness begin to settle like thick smoke.

Yoongi interjects with his blunt statement, “the other one isn’t here. Isn’t he a prince now too? It’s rude of him to not come to greet you. No wonder they call him a bastard.”

“My apologies.” Namjoon bows his head. “I would’ve liked to introduce you to Hoseok, but he isn’t feeling very well.”

You’re almost glad Namjoon interrupted Yoongi so he wouldn’t go off on another rant. But it’s regretful to hear about Hoseok. You’re wondering when you’ll get the opportunity to meet him. Hopefully, he isn’t as dreadful as Yoongi’s vivid imagination paints him out to be.

Namjoon rises from his bow and his eyes catch something behind you. The sound of hooves and wheels squeaking tell you another carriage has arrived. You turn to see the door being opened and two men step out.

“The advisors are here, your highness,” Namjoon’s guard says. “It’s time to go.”

Namjoon lets out a helpless sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, ”thank you, Jungkook. Please, escort the princess to her room.”

Namjoon bids you a quick farewell, promising to speak with you again soon and then descends the stairs to greet the two officials. 

As Namjoon ordered, Jungkook leads you into the lavishly decorated castle with Yoongi following in flank. The castle’s grand exterior could never compare to the wonders on the inside. 

The floor is lined with white marble and gold accents covering the entire wall. Statues of gods and goddess carrying candelabras stand in the hall facing the windows and the rising sun. 

This castle is much more extravagant than the one you grew up in, even Yoongi eyes the decor in absolute amazement. 

Once you arrive at your designated room deep in the castle, so deep you wonder how you’ll ever find your way back to the entrance, Jungkook takes his leave with a silent bow and gracious smile before you can even thank him. 

“If you end up despising your husband it won’t be hard to avoid him in a palace as big as this,” Yoongi states, once Jungkook is out of hearing. He opens the door for you and the inside is just as well-decorated as the rest of the castle. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The more and more Yoongi speaks, you find yourself growing anxious over this whole situation. What will you do when they finally chose their king? What if you can never learn to love your husband as Yoongi imagines? Doomed to live a miserable life, avoiding your husband and wishing you could flee.

You step into the room with drooping shoulders and grim face, hidden from Yoongi. Even if he can’t see you, he can sense your distress. 

“I just…” he sighs heavily, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder to make you face him. Yoongi makes sure you’re looking him in the eyes before continuing. “Don’t want you to be let down or hurt in the end. That’s all.”

You know how much he cares and he doesn’t say this to harm you, he’s just worried. 

You reach out to pull him into a hug, clinging to him as you relieve all of your worries in his arms. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.”

—

It’s already past noon by the time you fully settle in. Unfortunately, you knew your time with Yoongi had to come to an end before dusk approached. He had other matters to attend to back in your own kingdom, but he entrusted your care to the knights here, threatening to return with a vengeance if you are ever harmed under their watch. 

It was a tearful farewell and watching Yoongi depart on his horse, only made you want to return to your room to wallow. Now you have no one. No one to confide in or feel at home with. But you aren’t going to let yourself get caught up in these feelings and isolate yourself.

With Namjoon busy all day in his meetings and still no sign of this mysterious first son, Hoseok, you spend your time alone wandering the castle and exploring the gardens. All the hedges have been perfectly trimmed, the grass cut and immaculate, not a weed in sight. 

Just over the hedges, you spy a group of knights sparring, armor gleaming under the sun each time they move to strike each other with their swords, clashing metal against metal. They go back and forth with one another like an intricate dance. 

Your legs unconsciously carry you towards the action. 

The knights who aren’t sparing, stand idly to the side of their made-up battleground, some bow to you as you approach. They don’t seem to mind your intrusion, much more interested in the two in the middle who continue to clash swords. 

“Good morning, your highness,” one of the knights greet. “How are you doing? I hope our prince, Namjoon, isn’t too busy, but you’ll have to forgive him. With the King’s health declining rapidly there are lots of things to be done.” 

You understand that Namjoon is busy with the revelation of his adoption and grieving over his father’s condition. It can’t be helped. However, you wish he would invite you to come along on his meetings so you can have time together. Even if you won’t be speaking much to one another, at least you’d be in his presence and learn more about him as a potential leader. You might be marrying him soon, yet you know nothing about each other. 

During your time wandering you spoke to his staff and heard them go on about how much of a gentleman and wonderful person he is, and you don’t doubt them, but you’d like to experience that kindness yourself. It might be foolish to dream, but you’d like to actually be in love with the man you might marry.

“I’ve been good, thank you. I know Namjoon has been busy but I’ve been busy exploring the castle.”

“Well, you stumbled out into the training yard just in time! Sparring is always so much fun to watch.” The knight smiles, his eyes turning into crescents. 

“Enough, enough! Are you trying to kill him, Hoseok?” 

You’re brought back to the knights sparing, between your conversation with the knight and your thoughts, one of the knights managed to get his opponent on the ground, sword to his throat and cutting just enough for blood to pool. 

You didn’t notice it before, being so absorbed in your conversation with the knight, but the man on the ground is Jungkook, the guard who you met earlier.

And they called the other one Hoseok. Could the man sparing be the king’s son? He doesn’t look sick like Namjoon claimed he was.

Jungkook grimaces, trying to shift away, but the sword follows his throat. 

“Trying to kill him?” Hoseok, standing above him, muses, pulling the sword away and driving it into the grass close to Jungkook’s head. “This was just for fun.” 

Jungkook lies still for a moment, stunned by the proximity of the blade to his face. Even you had frozen for a second when Hoseok drove the blade in the dirt, afraid he would purposefully strike Jungkook. 

Glistening with a sheen of sweat as he turns his head to face the others gathered around, Hoseok spreads his arms as if presenting himself for a challenge. 

“Who’s next? I can do this all day,” he boasts jokingly.

“I think they need you back to work in the kitchen, Hoseok,” the knight you were speaking to says, jerking his head towards the castle.

Back to work in the kitchen? If this is the Hoseok everyone is gossiping about, why is he not like Namjoon and swamped with royal duties? He’s eligible to become king, but he’s here bantering with knights and sparring. 

“Well, this was fun, boys.” 

Hoseok moves off Jungkook, offering a friendly hand to pull him up. Jungkook accepts Hoseok’s hand and stands, dusting off the dirt staining his pants after being roughly forced to the ground. 

“Jungkook, go get cleaned,” their captain commands, then he gestures toward the knight you were talking to. “Jimin, you’re next.”

“It was fun, princess,” Jimin says, hand moving to unsheathe the sword at his hip. “If you ever need an escort around the castle, feel free to find me. I’m usually out here training or in the kitchen. They make the best cookies there.”

You smile at the generous offer, “thank you, Jimin. Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer soon!”

No one else is going to show you around. Namjoon surely isn’t with his busy schedule. You’d be thrilled to become friends with Jimin. 

He waves you goodbye and meets his next sparring partner on the field. You watch as they ready themselves before their captain yells for them to begin. Swords once against clash. 

Hoseok approaches you and you’re just about to wave hello, but he passes by without a second glance. Your hand awkwardly moves to fiddle with the pearls around your neck as you turn to watch him stride toward the castle. He pulls off his armor and leaves it to the side near the bushes and then enters through the service entrance.

Maybe he just didn’t see you. Though in a crowd of knights all wearing their armor and you in a simple pink dress, it would be hard not to notice. You’d like to introduce yourself anyway. You finally want to meet the man everyone has been whispering about. You want to prove Yoongi’s theory about him wrong.

You lift your skirts and begin heading toward the same door Hoseok just went through.  

“Uh, excuse me, princess!” 

You stop walking when you hear someone call out to you, the galloping of horse’s feet also grows close. When you spot the man riding on a brown horse he’s already dismounted and walking toward you, reigns in hand. He isn’t dressed up in any formal attire and smells faintly of the stables.

He bows, taking the brown cap off his head, fluffy dark hair spilling out, and clutching the hat to his chest. His hair is in disarray as he straightens himself, putting the cap back on neatly to cover it.

“Sorry to bother you, princess. I overheard that the crown prince is looking for you in his office. I just thought I’d let you know even though it’s not my official job,” he shyly chuckles, “my name is Taehyung. I’m the stable boy.”

The horse by his side neighs as if also saying hello.

“Ah,” Taehyung adds, patting the horse’s back. “and this is Yeontan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you grin, reaching out to stroke Yeontan’s snout. “I should go see Namjoon then.”

Introducing yourself to Hoseok will just have to wait. You don’t want to keep Namjoon waiting. You wave goodbye to Taehyung and head towards the other castle entrance. 

—

Once you arrive at Namjoon’s office, after getting lost a few times and asking a maid for directions, you knock on the door twice. Inside you hear his tired, gravelly voice telling you to come in. 

As you enter, you see the office is cluttered with books and papers. Every surface is filled with official documents or texts you can hardly find a place to put your foot without stepping on anything. 

The mess almost reflects the chaos that must be going through his head. His whole future of becoming king has fallen apart right before his eyes and there’s nothing he can do about it. Also, dealing with his father’s illness, and coming to terms with the truth of being adopted must have him in a lot of stress. Work seems to be his only distraction away from it all.

The fountain pen in Namjoon’s hand spins between his fingers as his eyes concentrate on the papers laid out on his desk. He only glances at you briefly, offering you a tired smile, before going back to staring at the work in front of him. 

“I was thinking after my meeting tomorrow we could go into the town and I could show you around personally.”

“Oh, you don’t have to if you’re too busy!” 

You don’t want him to feel obligated to spend time with you. He has enough to do already. You’d just feel guilty for taking him away from any important business he has to deal with. 

“You’re a guest in my kingdom and who knows, if fate allows it, we might be married. I’d like to get to know you better.” 

 He looks into your eyes causing your pulse to begin racing. He’s just so charming you can’t help but get flustered.

��Mmh,” you blush, averting your gaze to the floor. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Perfect. I look forward to spending time with you tomorrow. I’ll see you tonight for dinner.” 

That seems to be the end of the conversation and your cue to exit as he picks his pen back up and begins marking his papers again. 

You shift your feet, averting your gaze to the floor to ceiling window which has a perfect view of the setting sun coating the garden in a wash of orange, hoping to say more. Maybe you shouldn’t bother Namjoon, but you can’t help but want to talk to him. 

“Um, may I ask what you have planned for tomorrow?” 

Namjoon hums in thought, looking back up at you and pressing the tip of his pen against his plush lips, “I think a stroll through town and a picnic would be very romantic.”

Your cheeks burn at the word romantic, a suppressed smile playing on your lips. You nod without a word, afraid if you speak your voice will give away how thrilled you are.

“Thank you. Goodbye,” you squeak, quickly curtsying and turning on your heels to exit.

You scurry out of Namjoon’s office. So giddy with excitement for what’s to come tomorrow you don’t notice the figure turning the corner carrying a tray. You two roughly collide with one another. Your shoulder knocks the silver platter out of his hands. The contents of the tray fall over and smash against the floor. Piping hot tea and shards of broken glass scattered across the immaculate marble. 

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, crouching down to pick up the large pieces of a shattered porcelain teacup. 

The person you ran into tsks, crouching beside you to help clean up. “Damn it, watch where you’re going next time.”

 “I’m sor-” You look up and realize you’ve run into Hoseok, the king’s biological son, the man you saw sparring on the field. His dark hair is pushed out of his face, allowing you to see his downturned brows, clear frustration painting his features.

You’re just about to finally introduce yourself when you feel a sharp pain prick your finger. You yelp and drop the glass back onto the floor when you realize you’ve just cut yourself with it.

“You’re really clumsy,” Hoseok sighs, grabbing your injured hand and inspecting the cut. Your blood seeps from your finger and drips onto the floor. You wince when he envelopes your hand in his. “It’s not that bad. Come on let’s bandage it up.”

Hoseok holds your hand in his and drags you down the hall, abandoning the shards of glass for someone else to deal with.

“I’m really sorry for bumping into you.”

“Stop apologizing to me.”

“S-” You stop yourself from apologizing again by clamping your mouth shut. 

You trail behind him, staring at his back. He’s dressed in black like most of the servants, not the finely tailored suits Namjoon dresses in. 

You thought Hoseok would be similar to Namjoon, stressed about discovering the truth and his new title as the king’s illegitimate son, but he’s out training with the knights and delivering tea instead. He’s still remaining in his role as the maid’s son. 

“You’re Hoseok, right? T-The king’s son?” 

Hoseok tenses, the grip on your hand tightening. You wince from the pressure it puts on your cut. Hearing the soft cry, his hand relaxes again.

“So what?” He answers dismissively, pulling open a narrow service door.

You glance to the floor, thinking of what to say. It’s clear he doesn’t like being addressed as the king’s son. “Um, I just wanted to introduce myself to you after I saw you sparring earlier. You were really impressive.”

“Yeah, I saw you out there.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t notice me when you walked by.” He must've been busy and wanted to get back to the kitchen quickly, you think to yourself. It’s reasonable that he couldn’t stop to say hello if that was the case.

“I just didn’t care.”

“Oh…” You murmur, defeated. 

You didn’t think Hoseok would be so blunt, a little rude too. You don’t understand why he already seems to dislike you when you’ve only just met. What if Yoongi was right? 

Your pace behind him lags and he takes notice, turning around to see your frown.

“Don’t look so glum,” Hoseok says, using his free hand to pinch your cheeks up in an attempt to make you smile. “They’ll think I made you sad.”

But he did make you sad. However, you wouldn’t want the staff to see you upset. It wouldn’t make such a good first impression. 

“I’ll try not to,” you nod, attempting to put a smile on your face.

His gaze lingers on your fake smile, frowning slightly, but shakes his head free of his thoughts and pulls open the doors to the hectic kitchen. 

Inside the staff is in full swing preparing dinner for tonight. The chefs and sou chefs work in tandem, calling out to one another, but that abruptly stops when the doors shut behind you and everyone’s attention is on you—mainly Hoseok. 

Their eyes linger on him, unsure and hesitant as they wonder what to do or say. Do they bow to their new prince or casually say hello to the man they’ve worked with for years as if he were anyone else?

Tension builds as Hoseok drags you towards the back of the kitchen and they idly stand by. Hoseok ignores them, staring straight ahead without a care, similar to the way he ignored you outside. He must be used to the states by now.

“Princess! You’re here!” The familiar voice of Jimin calls to you, breaking the uncomfortable silence. You see him waving at you while leaning against a countertop covered in flour with cookie dough resting on trays. He has a stack of freshly baked ones in his hand and happily continues to munch on them. 

Life slowly returns to the kitchen in hushed whispers when Hoseok lets your hand go to search for the bandages and you approach Jimin with your hand behind your back. You don’t want him to worry if he sees your cut. 

“You found your way here and with Hoseok too. I’m surprised you've managed to warm up to him already.”

“Warm up? I don’t think he likes me very much,” you sigh, glancing back at Hoseok who’s crouched down and rummaging through a cabinet. 

Jimin takes another bite out of his cookie, offering you some from the stack in his hand. You excitedly accept one and take a bite, savoring the chewiness and sweet taste of the chocolate.

“Oh, he’s always that way with royals. He’ll come around once he gets to know you. But he’s been even more on edge ever since the king's confession. Truthfully, we’re all a little confused about what’s happening or what to do.” Jimin looks toward Hoseok, an empathetic look on his face. “Hoseok says he’s fine and he doesn’t want the truth to change anything.”

You both look at Hoseok still looking through the cabinet, an annoyed look on his face as he struggles to find what he’s looking for. A staff member comes to his aid, but he shoos them off. He continues to rummage until he reaches his arm far back to grab the box.

Hoseok begins walking towards you both while searching the contents for what he needs.

It’s obvious that many of the staff are having difficulties adjusting to Hoseok’s new title from the silence that drowned the room when he walked in. It must be hard to continue his life normally, you can understand why he seems to be frustrated.

“Is that why he’s still serving tea?”

Jimin nods, solemnly. “Since he’s a royal now, we do as he says and if he wants to continue serving tea or sparring with us we let him.”

“Does that also mean you let me win sparring matches on purpose?” Hoseok muses, moving beside you, carrying the bandages for your cut.

“You won sparring matches before everyone knew you were a prince,” Jimin mutters sourly, turning his head away with a pout. 

Hoseok’s smile turns from playful to a cold empty expression at the mention of prince, but says nothing, letting the commotion of the kitchen drown out the conversation. He turns to you, taking your hand without asking and begins cleaning up your wound with a wet cloth. 

“Are you alright, princess?!” Jimin gasps when he sees your injured hand, brows knitted together with worry. “How did that happen?”

You smile to reassure him. “Just a little accident. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It’s my job as a knight to worry about your wellbeing, princess,” Jimin says, continuing to wear a face of concern, watching Hoseok work.

Jimin reminds you of Yoongi. Always worrying about the smallest things. It’s comforting to have someone familiar around and you’re glad you met Jimin today. 

Hoseok’s hand gently wipes around the cut, cleaning off any blood left. As curt as he is speaking to you, he’s gentle with your injury.

You watch his tense expression as he works. You’re wondering what he’s thinking. After your short talk with Jimin, you wonder how he really feels about his true birthright? Is he really fine like he’d like to convince everyone? 

You’d certainly feel betrayed by the king for keeping a secret of such magnitude. How does he look Namjoon in the eye knowing everything Namjoon has should’ve been his?

Someone bursts through the doors right then, calling out, “Incoming, Hoseok! It’s the advisors again!” 

You recognize the voice as Taehyung, but before you can check to see if you’re right, Hoseok grabs your wrist.

“You’re gonna have to run, princess.”

“Huh?”

Hoseok gathers all your first aid in one hand and with the other wrapped tightly around your wrist drags you out of the kitchen through the service hall just as two officials, the pair from this morning, come through the other door from the dining room.

One of them desperately pleads, “your highness, please stop avoiding this! Someone catch him!” 

You lift up your skirts and try to keep up with Hoseok as he dashes down the hall with you in tow, pushing open unfamiliar door after door to escape the royal officials hunting him down. 

They must be the same advisors that held a meeting with Namjoon earlier today. 

Even when your steps falter his grip on you never wavers, occasionally turning his head to check that you’re able to keep up.

As you both turn a corner, you spot Namjoon emerging from a room, books stacked in his arms and the other hand holding a porcelain teacup. Your rapidly approaching footsteps alert him and he looks up over the rims of his dark-framed glasses, surprised to see you hand in hand with Hoseok dashing through the halls. 

You manage to catch his eye, offering a small weary smile as you go by.

He stands stunned, unable to say much but utter your title under his breath in confusion, and watches you pass by in a flurry with your pink skirt breezing behind you. 

You’d like to stop and greet him properly, but with Hoseok adamant to flee with you in tow, you doubt he’d like to stop and chat with Namjoon.

With your eyes focused behind you on Namjoon, you lose your balance in your heels, making you stumble out of them. You try your best to slip them back on quickly, but Hoseok’s sharp command for you to hurry forces you to leave them behind. You glance back seeing your white shoes lying on the ground with Namjoon standing just a few feet away still lost in his confusion. 

“H-Hoseok, can we stop running?!” You let out an exasperated breath. You’ve already lost a pair of shoes and you’re sure the officials have stopped chasing him.

He pushes open one last door, swinging you into the room and shutting the door behind him. He presses his forehead against the door, breathing heavily. 

You’re out of breath but as you observe the room, with its large glass ceiling, revealing the glittering night sky and crescent moon, you look up in awe almost forgetting to breathe. It’s difficult to look away from the sight of a thousand stars in the sky all twinkling brightly. You almost want to reach out and touch them.

“Wow,” you sigh, marveling at the night sky.

Hoseok ignores your wonder, muttering curses about the officials under his breath. 

“Sit down over here. I’ll finish putting on your bandages.” 

Hoseok moves toward the couch. You sit beside him offering your hand and he begins cleaning your wound again. The focused expression returns as he begins to apply healing cream on your cut.

Your cheeks begin to burn in the silence. Nothing but the ticking pendulum clock fills the room.

“You really didn’t have to help me. I could’ve done it myself.”

“Knights never abandon anyone who’s injured and neither will I,” he responds automatically, his eyes unwavering from his task. 

Although you know he’s just a servant, Hoseok seems to spend most of his time with the knights. He seemed close with Jimin and really enjoyed sparing with the knights. He looked so proud just being around them and wearing their uniform. You begin to wonder if he has any desire to become one himself. He has the skill and the heart for it. 

But now that he’s considered a royal they’d never allow him to put himself in harm's way and become a knight, and they certainly wouldn’t be okay with him continuing to be a servant. That must be what those court advisors were chasing him about. 

“Are you okay with all of this?”

You ask because you’re curious about his thoughts on possibly becoming king, but you also ask because you’re worried about the facade he might be putting on in front of others. Jimin told you that Hoseok tells everyone he’s fine but is he really? Does he accept the truth of his royal blood so easily? 

Hoseok looks into your eyes and grimaces. He releases your hand and stands up abruptly, gazing at the floor.

“I don’t need your pity,” Hoseok murmurs. “Don’t be so kind to me just because I’m suddenly the king’s son. If I were nothing more than a servant, you wouldn’t even look in my direction.”

“That’s not true,” you object. You aren’t as shallow as he thinks you are. You aren’t pretending to care about his feelings just because of his status. He’s just as human like you with feelings and you’d like to be someone he can trust and confide in. Bottling up his feelings would only make things worse.

“Just forget it,” he brushes it off, turning away once again. “I’m nothing to you, okay?”

“Hoseok…”

You can feel something in you nearly break from his soft-spoken whisper. He isn’t nothing. You want to find a way to convince him otherwise.

The door opens cutting the moment short, revealing the two court officials from earlier and surprisingly, Namjoon standing beside them as well. In his hands are the shoes you had left behind in your haste.

Hoseok scans the three standing in the doorway. Finally, his eyes settle and narrow on Namjoon.

“Your highness, please let us speak to you,” one of the officials beg.

“Don’t call me that,” Hoseok groans, then points his finger at Namjoon who looks to the floor. Namjoon refuses to make eye contact as Hoseok lets out his frustrations. “Why don’t you speak to him? He’s the crown prince. He’s the one the king chose to rule.”

“It’s not that simple anymore, your highness, you know that,” the second official speaks up in a more serious tone. “And if you continue to run, we won’t hesitate to call the knights to restrain you.”

Hoseok, visibly angered by the officials’ threat, lowers his hand, clenching it into a fist. He looks as if he wants to retort, scream at them to leave him alone. Instead, he stays silent and stares off to the side, neither refusing or agreeing to go with them.

Namjoon looks toward you, politely offering his hand, “Why don’t we go somewhere else and let them have their discussion in private?” 

You look between Namjoon’s outstretched hand and Hoseok’s furious expression, conflicted on what you should do. 

CHOICE: stay with Hoseok or go with Namjoon

—

PLEASE DON’T FORGET TO CHOOSE HERE!

REMINDER: your choices may affect your relationship with the characters. Please vote wisely :)

[alanaswriting]

Time After Time

Carl Grimes x Reader

Summary: Carl gives you the highschool dance you’ve always wanted

masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None really?

A/N: Oh my god, I have not written in forever so please forgive whatever this is but! Enjoy?

Please don’t steal, plagiarize or repost my writing. I work really hard on my writing as I imagine all writers do and it would suck to find out someone else is trying to claim it as theirs

—

“This is so ridiculous.” Your voice comes out soft yet with a hint of humor behind it as Carl takes your hand.

The community of Alexandria was peaceful and quiet as the two of you stood in the middle of the town, lanterns illuminating silhouettes and houses in the distance. It was just the two of you, both of your bodies underneath the stars, hearts beating, blood pumping, and minds racing.

Curfew had already been set but Carl had insisted on the two of you sneaking out and with Rick being his father along with the leader of Alexandria you didn’t see the harm in it. You out of all people knew Alexandria was safer than any place you’d ever been. It was like a piece of the old world hanging at a thread of this destruction you called the new world.

“It is not! I’m trying to do something nice, would you just go along with it?” Carl’s familiar and soothing voice replies to you as his lips twitch into a smile.

Your torso was covered in a dark red dress that was slightly big on you, something Carl had picked out for you. It took tightening the straps all the way and a small belt around your waist to even make it look appealing but red was your favorite color and you appreciated the gesture. Regardless of the sizing it was gorgeous. You were surprised the 16 year old boy had any taste in dresses at all.

Carl had even dressed up, wearing a black blazer along with a white dress shirt underneath. He even had black slacks that looked a little long for him but the attempt was cute. Almost everything Carl did meant something to you specifically because he meant something to you. He always would.

You knew that young love usually died fast but you knew deep in your heart that Carl was going to leave a imprint on your soul. He already had. Carl was going to be someone you would never forget, and in your mind you hoped you never had to. You wanted to be with Carl forever and ever. But you knew how this life could be, and part of you was terrified everyday that one day you’d wake up and he would be out of reach, dead or disappeared.

However you had tonight, and you felt content with that.

“There’s not even any music.” You tell Carl, giving his hand a small squeeze and he raises his eyebrow, almost challenging you as he used his spare hand to reach into the pocket of his blazer.

He reaches inside and pulls out a cassette player, along with a pair of headphones. He hands you the cassette player signaling for you to help him plug in the headphones so he doesn’t have to pull his other hand away from yours. You willingly grab onto the rectangle machine and help him plug in the worn out headphones before he hands you one earbud, taking the other one and putting it in his own ear. It’d been awhile since you’d listened to music like this.

His hands are shaky and you can tell he’s a little nervous about the whole night but you secretly thought it was honestly the most romantic thing the boy had ever done for you in your 5 years of knowing him. Carl was always a little on the awkward side when it came to your relationship so the fact he had set this whole thing up without any help from you was surprising.

You knew his awkwardness came from his inexperience, his insecurities, and his own fear of expressing his feelings. You wonder if any of this would be different if you had found him in the old world, if this hellish phase never happened, would he still be so awkward and shy? Would the two of you even get along like how you do now?

“I didn’t have a lot of options but my mom used to listen to this song a lot when I was little so I thought, I don’t know. It’s kind of romantic? It’s all they had.” He rambles and you only giggle as he puts the cassette player back in his pocket, gently pressing play.

“Plus, it kind of reminds me of you.” Carl admits, clearing his throat. “I lost you once, that’s not happening again.”

Memories of when you two got separated after the prison flash through your mind and you remember how badly your 14 year old heart ached. You had Michonne, and you two became as close as could be in those days in the woods but you couldn’t help but think about Carl. If he was even alive, and god knows you prayed every night that he was.

It took some time but you found him once more, and you don’t think you’d ever been so happy to see that god awful blood stained shirt that used to be his favorite before it was damaged beyond repair. You had hugged him for what felt like hours, afraid that if you let go he wouldn’t be there.

You move your hands to his shoulders and his hands rest awkwardly on your hips causing you to try and hide a grin. This felt silly. Carl didn’t catch it due to the dim lighting and the fact you looked down purposely avoiding his gaze. He rests his forehead against your own, letting out a shaky breath.

“Relax.” You whisper to him, waiting for the music to play.

It takes a couple seconds but suddenly your right ear is filled with an old song from the 80’s. Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper. This causes you to smile immensely because this was most certainly not Carl’s type of music, neither was it yours but, it was sweet. It was romantic in it’s own way. Awfully cheesy but still romantic in your mind.

It was relatable. You couldn’t count the amount of times Carl had pulled you out of a rough place after a cold death of someone you loved, or how many times you had stopped him from going down a path that felt too dark, even for this world.

Carl does as you say and his grip on your hips gets more comfortable and you can feel him shoulders loosen up underneath your touch. You look up at him and catch a glimpse of those blue eyes you adored so much. The ones that you swore were the exact color of Neptune themselves. The freckles spread across his cheeks looked like little stars shimmering behind the bright blue orbs and you couldn’t help but admire him.

“Do you know the lyrics?” You tease, watching his cheeks burn red as he nods a little, giving you a small shrug.

“Mom liked it a lot. I kinda got it stuck in my head whether I wanted it there or not.”

You close your eyes before swaying your body to the beat of the music, enjoying the couple minutes of peace with the boy who had your entire heart in the palm of his hand. You give him little Eskimo kisses with your nose before speaking up once more.

“If you're lost you can look and you will find me, time after time.” You mumble in a sing song tone of voice, waiting for him to finish the lyrics as the apples of his cheeks redden even more.

“Jesus christ.” He sighs before continuing. “If you fall, I will catch you, I'll be waiting, time after time.”

You giggle loudly and he shakes his head, his hair falling in his face as he looks up, staring at the sky as if he regrets this whole thing just from how awkward he felt in the moment. Carl felt embarrassment flooding through his body at the fact he just sang the lyrics of an 80’s love song to the girl who could make his heart skip beats without even trying to.

In that moment underneath the Virginia sky that was clear as could be he wondered what she could really do to him. If she could make his heart stop with a couple of words what else was she capable of that he hadn’t thought about? He was at her mercy without even realizing it up until now, and it was absolutely terrifying and beautiful all at once, to give someone your most vulnerable piece of soul and trust them not to twist and turn it into nothing.

“Carl?” Your voice brings him back to reality and he looks down at you before swallowing loudly.

Carl looks down at you, watching you as you keep your eyes closed, listening to the music peacefully. You looked so innocent. It was hard to imagine you were capable of all the horrible things the two of you had done to survive in this moment, because he swore, maybe even if it was just for this one moment, you looked like an innocent.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He says unexpectedly and you feel your body freeze despite your previously flowing motions. 

Carl stares at you waiting for a reply as the words sink into your mind, taking their sweet time, causing Carl’s palms to grow sweaty after a few seconds pass. You open your eyes to see the fear in his one and you realize that this was probably the most vulnerable he had ever been with anyone. It made your heart leap out of your chest and the thought of you being the one who held the key to his heart caused an explosion of butterflies escape in your stomach. 

His breathing is quick and you can feel his panic setting in as he goes to pull away from you, but you don’t let him. No way was he getting away from you in this moment, not again. You keep your grip on his shoulders tight before leaning up, pressing yourself up on your toes just the tiniest bit since Carl wasn’t that much taller than you. Your eyes flicker to meet his and you watch as he stares at you with uncertainty. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before pressing your lips against his.

It wasn’t the longest kiss ever, but it was sweet, and it was reassurance. It was reassurance that whatever Carl felt for you was exactly what you felt for him. Maybe you were too scared to say it, or too surprised, but you thought your kiss said more than your words ever could. 

Once you pull away you can tell the taller boy has relaxed once more, realizing you indeed felt the same about him as he did for you. He didn’t know to what extent you felt for him but he hoped he hadn’t said too much or made too big of a gesture with all of this. He just wanted to give you something normal. He just hoped whatever you felt was enough to keep you around, maybe for as long as time would allow.

You’d always complained you’d never gotten to go to a high school dance. It was the one thing you’d never get over. You’d complained about it more times than Carl could remember and he used to be annoyed by it but as time went on he started to understand. Missing the experience of that left you feeling unfulfilled and sad, and Carl wanted to give you something to fill that little void in your soul. Maybe it wasn’t a full on prom but, he thought it was something.

 “If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting,” You whisper, a grin playing on your lips, waiting for him to finish as the song begins to come to an end.

“Time after time.” His voice matches yours, and in that moment, all that mattered was the two of you.

 Your time might’ve been limited together, but this moment was infinite. Time was yours.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Get In Moses Edition | 2.13.21

Secret Radio | 2.13.21 | Hear it here.

art by Paige, liner notes mostly by Evan, *means Paige

1. Chantal Goya - “Tu m’as trop menti”

From the movie “Masculin feminin,” a DVD we borrowed from Tim. This is the film where Godard was whispering the lines into a headset of the actor, so they were learning their lines literally as they were saying them. This is the opening song. Not particularly Valentine’s Day, in that it’s about lying too much… but still there’s a dissatisfaction that is undeniably a part of French romance.

2. Human League - “(Keep Feeling) Fascination”

Such a square song! But the keys hook is so immortally beautiful, with its crucial warble. The rest of the song is sweetly and innocently ‘80s. It reminds me of being in art class in high school, fully participating in the aesthetic crimes of the era. 

3. Marijata - “Break Through” - “Afro-Beat Airways”

Analog Africa is just now releasing a repress of this long sold-out collection. I’d listened to it before, but I guess that was before I knew about Marijata (thanks again, Jeffrey!) because it was a shock to discover a track by one of our very favorite Ghanaian discoveries. So far as I knew, Marijata only released one album of four songs — which is fantastic — and then eventually started backing a guy named Pat Thomas. Those records, unfortunately, are nowhere near as vital and fascinating as their own record. So finding this song was a welcome revelation! I should also say that, no surprise, the whole collection is a banger from front to back, and will definitely show up again on the show.

4. Philippe Katerine (avec Gérard Depardieu) - “Blond”

This strange guy is a kind of joker songwriter in French pop, as far as I can tell. This song is all about what one can get away with if one is blond. He’s a really fascinating character, a tiny bit like Beck maybe, in the sense that he seems to have made a successful career of taking unexpected directions. He’s also an actor, working with Claire Denis (!), Jonathan Demme and Gille Lellouche among many others. He was also in “Gainsbourg - A Heroic Life,” which is an excellent movie that we highly recommend. (We had no idea who he was when we saw it at the St. Louis Film Festival.) Also, he appears to be married to Gérard Depardieu’s daughter, which would seem to explain this particular guest star.

- The Texas Room - “Cielito Lindo” 

Several years ago, a producer in St. Louis put together the amazing album known as “The Texas Room,” which brought together immigrants from all over the world who currently lived in St. Louis. That meant Bosnians, Cameroonians, Mexicans, and native-born Americans… including Andy Garces, a fellow Paige went to high school with — His mom was Paige’s voice teacher as a matter of fact — who recorded this strange and excellent version of “Cielito Lindo.” The release party for the album was one of the greatest nights we spent in that or any city, dancing our faces off to all kinds of music. At one point the Bosnians got so excited they took over the room, shouting along and hoisting up their guy in the air. Basil Kincaid did the art for the album, and I think that’s the night we finally met. We have one of his collages on our studio wall right now — right over there!

5. The Modern Lovers - “I’m Straight” *

When we got the current SK van (circa 2015) we were super excited because we could finally bring out other musicians on the road and we could also have folks from other bands that we were out with jump in the van with us for a stretch. That February we were on tour with Jamaican Queens, and our friend Andy Kahn came out with us to play guitar. Not only is Andy a rad musician and great guy to be around, but he was an excellent road DJ. Somehow I made it to 30 without getting into The Modern Lovers (I know, crazy!) Andy has great taste and had a well appointed iPod so he was the official van DJ pretty much right away. He put on this record one day and I just lost it. The thing is, after that I was like “Play ‘Roadrunner’ again!” all the time. When I hear this record I still think of that tour. Andy in the back seat DJing, Ben and Erik jumping in the van to come with to Baltimore, graduating to “truck” in the Holland Tunnel queue, so much snow, host Bentley, “Go cats?”, Aaaaaahhhhh!

6. Frances Carroll & the Coquettes - “Coquette / When I Swing My Stick / Jitterbug Stomp”

I think we learned about this band last year, when Coquettes drummer Viola Smith died at 107 years old (in Costa Mesa, not Silverlake, Paige would like you to know — her bad). The video link below is highly recommended — the whole band swings hard, and the interaction between them and Frances Carroll is well worth the watch. They were considered a curiosity at the time, being an all-female band, and man they could play. Viola Smith in particular had an insanely long career, playing from the 1920s straight through into 2019! She played with Ella Fitzgerald and Chick Webb, and in the original Broadway production of “Cabaret.” Her particular innovation was having two toms at shoulder height, on either side of her head, which she would roll and ricochet shots off. Very cool style, never copied.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFDD_NxtKZ4

7. Pierre Sandwidi - “Boy Cuisinier”

Born Bad Records is one of the world’s coolest record labels, with a huge array of vintage discoveries as well as African albums as well as contemporary pop and noise bands. “Boy Cuisinier” is off Pierre Sandwidi’s album with them. It bears some definite relation to Francis Bebey but takes its own turns just as often. Sandwidi hails from Burkina Faso, known as the Upper Volta when he was growing up. We’re just now learning about him and his scene — I confess I didn’t even know Upper Volta was African; I thought it was Slavic — so I wouldn’t be surprised if some more Voltaic music shows up here soon.

8. Evan Sult avec Tracy Brubeck  - “The Cats Won’t Stay In”

Paige’s mom Tracy called while we were in the middle of the show, and they paused to have a conversation about, you know, whatever — the snowstorms, the neighbors, the news. She was on speakerphone so that we could all talk, and eventually I just started taking notes as fast as I could. This is the result. I find it fascinating. That’s Paige singing lead on the Marty Robbins tune.

9.  Kil Monnower Alimunna, Grup Hindustanbul - “Tadap Tadap” 

Years ago I saw the movie “Monsoon Wedding” by the director Mira Nair. It really stuck with me, particularly the gorgeous opening credits in maroon and orange and sky blue. I was trying to tell Paige about that sequence, so just in case we could catch a glimpse of those colors, we watched the trailer. This song is the soundtrack to the trailer. It’s really an amazing track — so Indian, of course, but with definite Western points of contact, like when it goes to the major chords unexpectedly in the post-chorus, which sounds practically American. And the final outro minute or so is full of delayed, reverbed vocals in a psychedelic style, til it reaches the strange and intoxicating sound that he makes with his voice as the song fades into the distance.

- Martial Solal “New York Herald Tribune” - “A bout de souffle” soundtrack 

10. Gillian Hills - “Tut Tut Tut Tut” 

Gillian Hills, probably more famous for “Zou Bisou Bisou.” This track is great, listen for those syrupy slides and harmonies. I just learned that she is English, and the music video for this song is definitely shot in Angleterre. Full of famous red phone booths (now famous little free libraries.) When we were doing this week’s show I asked Evan “Is this song too obvious?” He said no, it wasn’t too obvious. If you know why I’m asking, then you know. So is it? 

11. Jacques Dutronc “La Compapade”

We’ve been into Jacques Dutronc for many years now, because he’s a brilliant French songwriter and composer. But this one track has been a baffler for many years now. It shows up out of nowhere and sounds like… what? What the hell IS that? Is it African? It sounds African, but — is it? Is it just some strange lark on his part? Paige was apprehensive about playing it on the show, even though we both really enjoy it, because we couldn’t tell if it was somehow demeaning to someone. But eventually I argued that we don’t know what the hell most of the singers are saying in the songs we play, or which cultural taboos they’re transgressing, and the same is true in this case. If it is somehow offensive to anyone, I hope it’s clear that wasn’t our intention. But… I don’t know. I don’t think it is. I think it just comes from a cultural heritage and context that is French in a way Americans cannot understand or appreciate. In any case, it’s an amazing performance and recording!

12. K. Frimpong & His Cubanos Fiestas - Me Da A Ɔnnda”

Research into African rock and styles eventually brought us to K. Frimpong and His Cubanos Fiestas, which has turned out to be a satisfying step into the Ghanaian highlife/Cuban scene. I love the keyboard hooks in this one and the way the patterns just roll on and on with each other like a river, in no hurry but pulled forward by their own currents. He was also a visual artist — his art appeared on the cover of last episode’s Nyame Bekyere album. This was also the first time I’ve encountered the character “Ɔ” in the wild. I have zero idea how it is pronounced.

13. They Might Be Giants - “Birdhouse In Your Soul” 

“Not to put too fine a point on it / Say I’m the only bee on your bonnet / Make a little birdhouse in your soul.” I remember when I first realized that was a feeling I was feeling — hoping to build a birdhouse in the soul of another, to be inside one another in a little protected place. The rest of the song is a nerd-rock dream palace I love as much as any other nerd, but the chorus is where I discovered an emotion I hadn’t suspected was there when I first heard and fell for this song and this band in high school (thanks, Jeremy Peterson!). 

Paige adds: This song is blowing my mind. I don’t like writing lyrics, my ratio of melodies and harmonies to lyrics way out of whack. Evan brought this song back into our lives this week when Sleepy Kitty was asked what our favorite love songs are on a real radio show. We’ve been listening to it a bunch since Thursday and damn, these lyrics are good. It’s really reminding me that you can write about ANY.THING. Blue Canary in the freakin’ outlet by the light switch. Looking at the lighthouse picture. It’s a clinic. I learned something, and I can go home. 

On the original topic, I love thinking of this as a love song. If you hear a love song, it’s a love song. It’s a love song.

14. Sleepy Kitty - “Tu veux ou tu veux pas” *

I took two years of French in high school and missed out junior and senior year because of a scheduling lulu that made 3rd and 4th year French conflict with advanced painting which was the primary reason I was taking French in the first place. I’m still not over it. Years later, I’m at Electropolis (in my memory) and I hear this Brigitte Bardot song on Tim’s excellent sound system and I can understand…most?…some…of it! I fell in love with this song and with French again and started stumbling, scrabbling at it again. We started working up this cover. Thank you Suzie Gilb for helping with the pronunciation. We did a 7” of this song and it’s a rare SK track with me playing trombone on it. 

15. The Velvet Underground - “I Love You” *

I don’t really have much to say about this track except that it reminds me of flying to Germany because I got the 5 Disc set with all the extras on it a few days before leaving for a high school foreign exchange program. I was so happy to have those discs to absorb on the long flight, and come to think of it, it really inflected the whole trip.

16. Secret Song - “African Scream Contest”

The genesis of our love for African rock/funk/whatever (if for a moment we don’t count the profoundly influential “Graceland”) is the immortal collection “Legends of Benin,” put out by Analog Africa. As soon as we dug further for our favorites from that collection, we found “African Scream Contest” vols 1 and 2. I was drawn to the second one because it had a killer track by our hero Antoine Dougbé, but eventually spent as much time with the first volume. Both are absolutely fantastic. Part of what I love so much about them is learning how much of an impact James Brown and his band had on African music, which is super apparent throughout these collections and especially this track. The drums and the grunts and the hard stops and the horn blasts — it’s all there. 

One of the finest elements of these records is the hidden track at the end, tucked five or so minutes back from the last song. These are often some of the hottest tracks on the album, well worth the wait, and this mystery song is no exception. Unfortunately, though, that means we don’t know who made this track or what it’s called. Oh well — that only makes it cooler!

- Adrian from Brooklyn

17. The Beatles - “Dizzy Miss Lizzy”

We watched “The Beatles: Eight Days a Week” recently (totally worth a watch), and we were struck all over again by how insane their lives must have been at that time. Yes fame, yes sudden fortune, yes global supremacy, yes yes yes — the thing that I can’t get over is the shrieking, and how it wasn’t just present at their shows, it was EVERYWHERE THEY WENT, AT ALL TIMES ON ALL DAYS, EVERY SECOND THEY WERE OUTSIDE. How completely unsettling that must have been, to be the center of that howl, day after day, year after year. 

18. The Fall - “Sing! Harpy”

Dedicated to Adrian from Brooklyn and all those young women and men losing their minds over the Beatles so completely that all they could do was shriek, even at shows where the crowd’s sound completely obliterated the sound of the band they so desperately loved and came to hear. 

(This is also some of my favorite violin playing in any rock music, right up there with “Boys Keep Swinging” and The Ex’s “State of Shock.” I would LOVE to work with a violinist in this mode.)

19. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo - “Gnon a Gnon Wa”

So intense! That constant chord strike throughout the song is a kind of high-note drone that we find ourselves drawn to. It kind of reminds me of the sound of a casino, where you walk in and all of the machines are chiming the same note, promising to just take your mind away and keep it safe until you need it again.

- Tommy Guerrero - “El Camino Negro” - “Road to Nowhere”

20. Black Dragons de Porto Novo - “Se Djro” What a slinky number! I love how spare the instrumentation is, but how much power is contained in that one guitar part. This is side A of a 7” put out on Albarika Store, the label that T.P. Orchestre called home for many albums. 

21. Helen Nkume and Her Young Timers - “Time” This is (so far) the closest we’ve gotten to reggae on WBFF. I know nothing about the band or the music other than their fantastic name and sound — oh, and the fact that she is known elsewhere as Prophetess Helen Nkume. She appears to be Nigerian, or anyway her record label is. I love the guitar hook on this song, it just sneaks in and steals the show.

22. Anne Sylvestre - “Les Gens Qui Doutent”

23. Parvati Khan - “Jimmi Jimmi Jimmi Aaja Aaja Aaja Re Mere” A lucky find! Someone in one of my Facebook groups posted a video from this album, so I took note and returned later to check it out. This is from an Indian movie called “I’m a Disco Dancer” that looks like a real kooky thrill. The actors appear to have only the vaguest sense of what “disco” might be — or what a guitar might be, for that matter. It kind of looks like someone saw a single photo of a disco night and extrapolated a whole movie from it. Nonetheless, Parvati Khan is entrancing in the song and in the video, and we HAVE to see this movie, with or without subtitles. The smoldering look alone really requires investigation:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZUdJQSUcK_Y

24. Nancy Sit - “Love Potion #9” * One thing I’ve always known about Evan is that he doesn’t like the song  “Love Potion #9.” When we stumbled across this, I thought it was awesome but I didn’t want to make Evan listen to a song he doesn’t like on Valentine’s Day! Evan says this song has little to do with “Love Potion #9” which makes me wonder, Evan, what’s the part you don’t like about “Love Potion #9”?

Evan adds: I honestly can’t remember what my issue with this song was. I swear, it was like… it was around the time of “Melt With You,” which I also found inexplicably irritating (and still do). I suspect now that there was an inept cover version that first steered me wrong… but luckily there’s a strange Chinese version to steer me right again! Oh life.

- Michel Legrand - “Solange’s Song (Instrumental)” - “The Young Ladies of Rocheforte”

25. The Velvet Underground - “I’ll Be Your Mirror” * This is the song that I said was the best love song of the western world on the real radio. I think it’s so beautiful and so adult. I don’t even know if I would have thought of this as love song a few years ago. When first got into the V.U. I thought it was a pretty song – a neat song, but I didn’t really know what it meant, what it could mean. What’s funny is when I think of this song, I have a Lou Reed version in my head – his voice, the harmonies. When I revisited the Max’s Kansas City live version (which as far as I know is the only one besides other more recent live versions and surely what I’m thinking of?) I realized that the version in my head is essentially that one but cleaned up, remastered, different EQ, and as far as I know entirely imagined.

Evan adds: (Paige has been playing this song recently around the apartment. I don’t even have to tell you how lovely it is.)

*p.s. If you want to hear the piece about musicians talking about favorite love songs on KWMU it’s here: https://news.stlpublicradio.org/show/st-louis-on-the-air/2021-02-11/listen-love-songs-to-keep-you-warm-on-cold-winter-nights

Super fun getting to talk about this stuff and in such good company!

[laschatzi]

A Sorrow That Never Was Said

A little Killian Jones love fest for @effulgentcolors - to keep her motivated!

title: A Sorrow That Never Was Said

summary: Snow finds out something about Killian’s childhood

word count: 2k

rating: G and maybe FF for family fluff?

also on ff.net and ao3 

————————————————-

“It’s so peaceful,” Emma sighs as she lets her gaze sweep across the fall-colored front yard of her parents’ small farmhouse before she admits, “although sometimes I miss the loft.”

“We had good times there,” her mother agrees, “but it was time for something new, something a bit more spacious.”

“Mhm,” she hums in agreement and snuggles deeper into Killian’s side and into the cushions of the porch swing, wrapping her fingers around the warm cocoa mug. “You’ve moved here only a few weeks ago, I’ll get used to it.”

“Wait, love.” He wriggles himself free, smiling at her whined protest in fond amusement. “Surely your mother has a blanket somewhere. You’re shivering, and for once not because of my proximity.”

Emma and her father both roll their eyes, while Snow – quite predictably – hides a grin and motions vaguely towards the house.

“On the couch,” she directs him, and he gets up from the swing, stretches his long legs and saunters inside, a tail-wagging Wilby following on his heels.

“Don’t you miss sheriffing a bit, Dad?” Emma asks, and David chuckles.

“Contrary to popular belief, farm work is not boring,” he tells her. “Besides, if I feel the need to break up a bar brawl at the Rabbit Hole, I can always come in and give you and my son-in-law a day off.” He crinkles his nose in feigned annoyance when he emphasizes Killian’s title, as he likes to do. His best friend conked him in the head once with a crowbar, flirted with his wife, and saved his life, he can take a little mockery. It’s their thing.

“He misses it,” Snow declares dryly, much to Emma’s amusement. Then a child’s muffled sob comes from inside, and she sighs. “Bit early for feeding time,” she murmurs in gentle complaint and waves Emma off when she makes a move to get up as well, undoubtedly to offer her help with baby duty. “I’ll just bundle him up and bring him and his bottle outside.”

When she crosses the hall, meeting Wilby on his way out, she throws a glance into the living room to see if Killian has found the blanket he went in looking for, but the room is empty, and the blanket is gone; she assumes he probably just went to use the bathroom. She heads for the nursery and notices only now that Neal has stopped crying and is just whimpering a bit. Halting on the spot, she contemplates for a moment if she should just quietly retreat or take him with her, because feeding time will inevitably come anyway. That’s when she hears something strange from the nursery, sounds that definitely don’t come from her infant son.

It’s Killian’s voice, low, husky, and so gentle, and at first she can’t identify the sounds, because it’s so unexpected, but then she realizes – he’s actually singing. It’s an enchanting melody she’s never heard before, and his words are much more accented than usual. It has an undeniably calming effect. Mesmerized, she stands completely still, hoping that no unexpectedly creaking floorboard will betray her, and listens to the melancholy tune.  

She stepped away from me

And she moved through the fair

And fondly I watched her

Move here and move there

And she went her way homeward

With one star awake

Apparently, the baby is as mesmerized as she is, because his whimpering has softened into mere sniffling, and then he falls completely silent as Killian’s voice becomes softer still and fades away with the last tunes.

As the swans in the evening

Move over the lake

A few soothing words are murmured, unintelligible to her, before the door of the nursery is slowly pulled open, and Killan walks quietly out of the room, backwards, carefully setting his steps. When he turns around and finds himself face to face with Snow, he stops in a startled move. She notices he’s carrying the blanket for Emma in the crook of his left elbow. He’s apparently unsure of her reaction and motions over the shoulder with his hand.

“I… uhm, I heard the wee one wail and went looking after him,” he explains a little hastily, as if he feels the need to defend himself. That’s completely unnecessary, of course; she has observed a few times that he has actually a great instinct with children.

“Thank you.” Snow smiles. “That was beautiful. Did you learn it from your mother?”

He draws a deep breath, obviously surprised and a little uncomfortable that he has been overheard. “Aye,” he finally replies. “She used to sing it to me when I was a lad.”

“Can you teach me a few more?” she asks eagerly, partly because she wants to reassure him – sometimes it seems that despite all they’ve been through, he’s still a bit insecure about his place in the family – , and partly because she really would like to learn more lullabys that are different from the ones she remembers… ancient and somehow… magical, for the lack of a better word.

Killian shakes his head slightly and slowly, in an absentminded way, as if he’s trying – and failing – to dig up more memories. For a few moments, though, he’s far away, she can see it.

“I’m sorry, that’s the only one I remember,” he finally says and then, swiftly changing his demeanor, adds in a light voice, “I could provide you with a few sea shanties, but I’m afraid,” he raises his eyebrows mockingly, “Dave would not be amused.”

Snow scrutinizes him closely, and he almost passes the examination. Almost. The familiar smirk playing around his lips doesn’t reach his eyes; those are hazed by a profound melancholy. Quite some time ago, she has understood that Killian’s sass and pirate swagger are often just a mask to hide what he’s afraid of showing; that used to be his inherent goodness during a time no one was willing to give him credit for anything, and nowadays sometimes it’s insecurity born from that self-loathe he’s carried around for centuries, or simply plain old pain. The reason is just as plain and simple: just like with Emma when she was alone, no one ever cared or even bothered to ask, because they were both lost to the world, both never mattered to anyone.

But they matter now, and she sees it as her and David’s job to show them, again and again, that they do. Emma is their daughter and own flesh and blood, but Killian is the man she loves, and a vital part of their family – and they, in return, are the only family he has. So, she’s definitely not letting him get away with this, and he seems to sense it, because he raises his hand and rubs that spot behind his ear.

“You lost her early,” she finally says softly, and there’s no question mark at the end.

He drops the act and his head, a now genuine, sad little smile briefly brushing his features.

“She caught a fever,” he then recounts. “Tried to stay with us as long as she could. Alas…“ He lets his voice trail off and tilts his head. Snow looks down at his hand, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth fabric of the blanket he’s carrying the crook of his left elbow.

“How old were you?” she inquires gently.

“Six, I think.”

Her heart clenches when she thinks of a little boy whose childhood ended so soon and so terribly – Emma has told them the whole story about his father and what he did to Killian and his brother, although he himself never mentions any of it. She knows, he doesn’t want to come off as making up excuses for the dark path he has chosen to walk on for a long while of his life, and he surely doesn’t want pity.

“What was her name?” she asks to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

Almost automatically, his mouth curves up in a fond, albeit melancholy smile. “Alice.” He says it almost reverently.

“Alice,” she repeats, “that’s beautiful.” She cocks her head and gives him a conspiratorial glance. “It should be passed on.”

That remark apparently pleases him, because he averts his eyes for a moment and smiles bashfully. “Thank you,” he replies in a husky voice.

Snow raises her chin and studies his face. “What did she look like?” she wants to know.

He thinks about his next words for a few moments. “Her eyes were of a deep blue, and she had ginger hair,” he says slowly, thoughtfully – but not as if he has to struggle to properly remember, but more as if he’s reveling in the memory. “She was really beautiful.”

She nods, her lips playfully pursed. “Ah, now that explains a lot.”

Killian fixes his gaze on her, raising his eyebrows knowingly. “I’m aware of what you’re doing here.”

“You are? And what would that be?”

He sways his head. “You’re trying to appeal to my infame vanity, so I forget to be sad.”

Snow chuckles, not embarrassed in the slightest that she’s been busted. “Well, did it work?”

He draws a deep, pensive breath. “Thinking of her doesn’t make me sad, actually,” he explains and, after a short pause, adds, “I’ve learned some time ago that it’s better to let go of all the past anger, hurt, and pain, otherwise it will consume you, as it did me for three hundred years.” He looks down at the soft plaid of the blanket he’s still caressing absentmindedly. “It’s better to hold on only to the good things worth remembering.”

“True.”

Snow remembers all too well being in that dark place herself again and again, during her long, lonely hours of being on the run, orphaned, outlawed, stripped of everything, and living with the death threat by an evil sorceress, when she was barely more than a child. Being surrounded by her surrogate family, the dwarves, and friends like Red, and of course her True Love, helped her stay on her path more than once, or else… who knows if she would have succumbed to the darkness and strived only for revenge on Regina and her mother. Killian, on the other hand, was alone for centuries, with no one to show him a way out of the abyss.

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “Look, Killian, I know that what once was lost can never be replaced,” she begins, and despite his head still being tipped down a bit, his eyes meet hers again, watching her closely. “But now,” she continues, “we built something to make sure that we never have to be alone again, none of us – a home.” He doesn’t say anything, but that telltale muscle in his jaw ticks, and she knows she’s getting to him. “I want you to know,” she adds firmly, “that we succeeded with that also because of you, and that you’re a very important part of this family.”

The corners of his mouth finally lift in a soft, bashful smile, accepting, and his voice is a bit rough when he replies, “Thank you, Milady.”

She scoffs fondly. “You’re still going to call me that on my deathbed, right?”

Killian tilts his head in gentle mockery. “You know I will.”

She presses her lips into a smile and loops her arm through his, pulling him away from the nursery door where they’re still standing. “Come on, feeding time can wait a little longer.”

When they come out, David looks up from the dog whose head he’s been scratching and frowns questioningly. “Where’s Neal?” Wilby whines a bit in protest when his favorite human’s moves slow down.

Snow shrugs and waves her husband off. “False alarm.”

Killian settles back down on the porch swing next to Emma, and immediately she curls against him and hums in contentment when he drapes the blanket over her shoulders.

“Better?” he murmurs and presses a kiss on the crown of her head, smiling to himself as she buries her cold nose against the crook of his neck.

“Perfect,” she sighs.

Snow’s mouth curves into a serene smile as she watches her family.

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.3]

Chapter: Supernova

Summary: Bucky goes on a date. 

Warnings:  Fluffy fluff. Nat being the best. 

A/N: This chapter would not have happened without my beta @lokissoul That’s not a joke. She’s a saint for putting up with my crap. Please don’t hate me, okay? This was important to understanding where Bucky is at in his life. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Orion takes off towards the swing set curls bouncing in the breeze as she runs through the open grassy field. She dodges other kids, toys and a few dogs on leashes, but it’s a path she’s perfected. She knows every rock and bump and hole that tries to keep her from getting to the playset. 

“Stay where I can see you and if anyone tries talking to you what do you do?” Nat shouts after her. Orion turns back to her aunt and holds up both fists, grinning. Nat laughs and waves her permission allowing the little girl to get back to top speed.

“Her daddy know you taught her to punch strangers?” Y/n asks, grinning.

“No,” Natasha admits as she leans back on the blanket they brought for their girls’ picnic, eyes glued on Orion as she started to swing herself back and forth on the lower set of monkey bars. 

“And I’m trusting you to keep it that way.”

Y/n laughs and props herself back against the tree behind them setting down her near-empty basket of fries. “Is Bucky working again tonight?”

“No, he’s got a date. It’s some girl he met through Sam. They go to the same gym or something? Sam is Steve’s husband by the way.” Nat shakes her head and sighs, “They are not going to make it.”

“Steve and Sam?” Y/n asks, sounding surprised even to her own ears. “You always talk about how gross it is that Steve loves his husband so much. Why do you say that?”

She laughs and looks over at Y/n. “Buck and the girl he’s taking out tonight, Zoe I think? Steve was born to follow Sam around like a puppy. Trust me on that.”

Ori yells for Y/n to look at her as she jumps off the swing. Y/n sits up right away and beams as brightly as she can for the little girl, shouting about how amazing her jump was. As if a little kid jumping off a swing was the most exciting thing Y/n has ever seen in her life.

“So,” Y/n begins to prod as Orion goes back to playing. “Why are Bucky and Zoe not going to make it?”

Nat sighs heavily. She was getting nowhere with these two. Y/n wasn’t even jealous that tall, dark and adorable was going on a date. Neither one seemed interested in the other. Nat was starting to think she was wasting her time. “Well for starters I don’t think Bucky will let himself fall for her and he didn’t seem overly excited about the date when I picked up Ori. He’s not going to let it go beyond tonight. Mark my words. It’s like he won’t let himself be happy.”

“I doubt he needs to find someone to be happy,” Y/n argues. “They seem to be doing just fine on their own. Ori is happy and healthy, and from what I saw he seemed happy, clearly healthy from the size of those biceps. They are their own cute little family. I think it’s nice. They just need each other to be happy, and that’s sweet.”

Natasha tosses her fry at her friend pelting her on the forehead, making Y/n winces. She rubs the spot on her forehead making Natasha roll her eyes at the gesture. 

“I’m not saying he has to be with someone to be happy. I’m saying, I’m starting to worry he’s not even open to giving love a chance. For example, he met this woman a week or so ago and I know they are perfect for each other. Same interests. She loves Ori. When I asked what he thought about her, he acted as if I asked him what he thought about dating Steve.”

Y/n snorts but shakes her head. Why was it so hard to believe that not everyone wanted to force love? Sometimes it simply needed to happen naturally. 

“Just because he didn’t fall in love at first sight doesn’t mean he’s closed off to love.”

Y/n tosses the fry she was smacked in the face with back into the basket in front of her and sighs, “Not every love story starts with some dramatic moment where they fall for one another. Falling in love can be simple and still be beautiful. In fact, some of the best love stories are full of hundreds of small sweet moments that lead to love. Those are real. Not some big grand meeting full of sparks that probably won’t exist beyond the first night.”

Nat sits up on the blanket and crosses her arms over her chest smirking at Y/n. The twinkle in her eye made Y/n’s stomach churn from her nerves. 

“What?” She asks, slightly embarrassed by her rambling. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing really. Just how perfect that woman is for him and how utterly stupid they both are.”

-------

Bucky had been nervous the entire night for a reason he couldn’t place. He’s been dating regularly since Orion was born. It’s not as if he stopped liking women the moment he became a dad. Most of the dates Bucky went on Steve called them hookups, not dates. He’s probably right, but Bucky doesn’t like to tell him that. It goes right to his head and then they all have to listen to him going on and on for weeks. It’s just not worth it most days.

This was what Steve called a ‘real grown-up date with potential.’ Bucky doesn’t know how Sam deals with him most days. He had met Zoe a few days before when he went to the gym with Sam. She was beautiful, big brown eyes and dark brown hair she had in braided pigtails for her class. He was going to have to ask her how to do that for Ori if their date went well. She even laughed at his dumb joke about how slow Sam was on the treadmill. Then for some reason unknown to him, it just spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it:

I’m off this Wednesday. You wanna grab dinner?

Much to his surprise, she agreed. They didn’t get a chance to talk much so she didn’t know anything about Orion. That was pretty typical for him though. He didn’t usually bring Orion up unless he felt like it was going to go beyond a first date and it was too early on to tell if they would. He’s learned to just live in the moment and not put too much pressure on one moment or one person. The little girl snuggled up with her aunt is the only thing he needs to be whole. 

Anyone else added to their duo would just be a cherry on top.

Bucky rests his hand on her lower back as he guides her out of the restaurant and holds the door open for her on the way out. Zoe leans into his side unexpectedly, and he wraps his arm around her shoulders as they stroll towards his car. He dips his head down by her ear and whispers, “I know I said it already but you look beautiful.”

Zoe tries and fails miserably to hide her smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself. Much better than the ballcap and sweaty gym shorts.”

Bucky chuckles and nods in agreement. He wasn’t looking his best when he asked her out, that was for sure. “I’m not sure why you said yes when I looked like that. You do know you are wildly out of my league right?”

“Oh, I know,” She teases. 

“I just had a good feeling about you I guess,” She murmurs as they reach his car and presses herself against his chest. Bucky’s hands fall to her hips as she leans up on her tiptoes pressing her lips against his in a slow, gentle kiss. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that left him seeing stars or took his breath away, but it was enough to leave him wanting more the second her lips left his.

“I wouldn’t mind… going back to your place.” She says, smiling up at him. “I don’t really want the night to end just yet.”

Bucky grins and presses a chaste kiss to her lips as he pulls the passenger door open. “You read my mind darlin’.”

--------

It was a little past eight, and the smell of coffee was filling the kitchen. Undoubtedly it had reached his bedroom waking the beautiful woman who was sound asleep when he had crept downstairs to start their breakfast. All in all the night had gone better than Bucky had thought it was going to go, but he was still on the fence if this was going to go past today. 

Yeah, he had fun but nights like last night are few and far between for him.

His life was a lot for anyone to take on and he doesn’t just mean the fact that dating him means you are dating more than just him, his job is too much for most. Most people can’t handle spending every day wondering if their spouse will make it back home to them and that’s okay. He knows he’s a lot to take on and it’s one of the reasons he hasn’t been in a real relationship in nearly a decade.

The soft sound of small feet padding along the hardwood floor behind him made him smile. It was nice to wake up next to her though. He slowly turns around and smiles the second he lays eyes on her coming down the backstairs.

“I see you found the kitchen.”

She laughs and walks over to where he’s leaning against the counter. “Yes, helps that the stairs lead directly into the kitchen.” Bucky grins and rests his elbows on the countertop pushing a cup of coffee towards Zoe.

“Thank you,” She chirps, she was a little too happy after a night of drinking if you ask Bucky, but he was going to keep that to himself.

Zoe glances around his house, and her heart sinks as she begins to take in everything that was around her. How did she not notice all this last night? Tequila and a gorgeous half-naked man can blur your vision, and there was a lot of both last night.  Everywhere she looked there were stuffed animals and toys. They were all over the couch and in a big box in front of the seat in the bay window, a mini easel that held several colorful paintings was in the corner by the long wall bookshelves that held more than just books  and a bright teal and pink raincoat was hanging on the hook by the front door. Her eyes fell on the fridge where photos of Bucky and a little girl were displayed proudly. She was so wrapped up in everything around them; she didn’t even realize he had been talking the entire time.

“–I can whip up pancakes if you want, but I don’t have eggs. I was told eggs for breakfast make for an awful day, so I haven’t been buying them as often.”

“Um,” She forces a smile and nods towards the photos on the fridge. “You have a daughter?”

He looks at the pictures and finger paintings on the fridge. There’s one that was full of stars and planets and comets, she made that with Y/n and it’s probably his favorite. He takes in his fridge and a deep breath before looking back at Zoe. Here goes nothing.

“Yeah, I have a little girl.  She’s almost five. Her name is Orion.” He watches as she sets the mug down on the counter and the relaxed atmosphere quickly changes to something much harsher. It’s suddenly cold despite the furnace working over time and while it’s been warmer this winter, you wouldn’t know it from frost forming inside.

“So you get her every other weekend or something?”

“No,” Bucky huffs out a sarcastic laugh. Why does everyone assume he isn’t a full time parent? As if he couldn't handle taking care of her full-time because he’s the dad and therefore not as fit to be a single parent? 

“She’s at her aunt’s for the night. I have full custody.”

She nods her head and starts to nervously chew her bottom lip. It didn’t take much to weed out the ones that weren’t going to work that was for sure. She pats the counter and looks at the clock over the stove, “Listen, I should go. I have a class in a few hours, and I need to get a shower and grab clean clothes…”

This isn’t the first time it has happened, and it wouldn’t be the last. Bucky catches her hand as she tries to slip past him and places a light kiss to her cheek. Just because she didn’t want to be involved in his life more than she already was, didn’t mean he had to hate her or push her out the door. 

“I meant what I said last night. I had a good time. It doesn’t have to mean more than what it was. Let me call you an Uber. I don’t want you trying to hitch a ride or paying for one yourself.”

He had his phone out, and the app open before she could argue. He wasn’t going to let her figure out her own way home when he was the one that picked her up. If he thought she wouldn’t be completely uncomfortable, he would have offered to drive her home, but by the awkward smile she’s giving him he doubts she would want that.

Zoe returns the kiss to his cheek and whispers a quick thank you before disappearing upstairs to gather her things.

A text message pops up right as he finishes calling for a car and he grins at the sight. His baby girl was begging to come home (with help typing from Aunt Nattie he was sure), and that could not come at a better time.

[N]: Can I come home daddy? I missed you!

[B]: You’ve got no idea how much I missed you, comet. Aunt Nattie I am at home and waiting on you two.

Zoe’s car left a few hours before Natasha had pulled up with Orion, so it gave Bucky enough time to hop in the shower and clean up from the night before. Turns out he reverts back to his college days when he has too much tequila and orders a pizza in the middle of the night. He does not remember that happening but judging by the half-eaten box on the floor of his bedroom he was the only one that partook in that late night snack. 

“Daddy!” Orion squeals as she runs into the house and slams into his legs making him stumble back a few steps. An overly excited four-year-old and a hangover do not mix well. 

“I missed you! I missed you! I missed you!”

He grins and bends down to place a kiss on the top of her head.“I missed you, comet. Why don’t you go get your things unpacked and make sure everything is ready for class tomorrow.” 

Class. Not Pre-K. He’s learned the hard way. She’s a big girl and Pre-K doesn’t sound grown-up enough. Orion tightens her arms around his neck and juts her bottom lip out as far as it will go, looking up at him through her lashes. Bucky shakes his head and kisses her nose. 

“Oh, I don’t think so. No pouting. Get moving. I’m gonna talk to Aunt Nattie for a second and then we can go get lunch?”

“Tacos?” She asks, practically bouncing from excitement.

“Whatever you want baby doll.”

Orion let go of his legs and was scrambling up the stairs without another word leaving Bucky chuckling. He leans back against the counter avoiding the glare he was getting from Natasha. For whatever reason, he felt like she was disappointed in him and no one wants to see a disappointed Natasha glaring at them.

“So,” Natasha prods. “How did last night go with what’s her name?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. “You know her name, and it went fine. She booked it this morning when she realized I’m a full-time dad though. Can’t really blame her. I probably would have done the same before Ori was born.”

“Shame that didn’t work,” Natasha deadpans. “Why don’t you try online dating?”

He winces and shakes his head, “Not interested in doing that whole scene.”

Natasha sighs and peeks up the stairs for any sign of Orion before asking the question that’s been weighing on her mind, “Are you ever going to let someone in those high walls?”

“Tasha–”

“No, I’m serious James. You’ve been alone since Ori was born. Just one night stand after one night stand. Are you going to ever open yourself up and let someone else in your heart besides Orion?”

Bucky knows Natasha means well. He really does, but her worries are not built on anything substantial. He’s not closed off to love or women. In fact, he’s had more dates than he can count over the last five years, but none led to more than one night. Not one of those women were the one, and he’s not going to waste his time on someone who isn’t right for him and isn’t right for Ori.

When she finds him, he will be more than ready to let her in, but he won’t settle just to keep everyone around him from worrying.

“Look, if the right woman comes along, we will be here waiting. I’m not gonna force something because everyone thinks we are missing somethin’ that we aren’t. It has to be the right woman at the right time.” 

Bucky leans over and kisses her cheek and whispers with a cheeky grin, “Besides the only women, I need in my life are you and Ori.”

Nat rolls her eyes and pushes him away from her. 

“I’m married, Barnes. You should have made your move years ago. Don’t forget family dinner is on you this week and no pizza or anything else that comes out of a takeout container. You know the rules. Homecooked meals only.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Make that chicken pasta thing you do that’s really good. It always impresses everyone that you can make something that doesn’t taste awful.”

“Fine. Fine. Don’t you got a husband to take care of? I’m tryin’ to spend time with my best girl, and you’re yelling at me.”

“Zip it. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready,” She tells him with a grin. “Oh, and don’t forget. Y/n is coming to dinner. That’s not a problem is it?”

Bucky clears his throat and tries his best to look as casual as he can when he shrugs his shoulders. He looks around the house at the stuffed animal and toy tornado that destroyed his living room. “I should probably get all this cleaned up before she shows up is what you’re saying?”

Nat smiles and shakes her head, assuring him with complete confidence, “No. She won’t mind the mess. She likes Orion more than she likes you. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have to go say goodbye to my niece.”

Bucky watches as Natasha walks up the stairs graceful as always, his eyes land on the stack of books on the table that sits on the wall behind the couch. Nat wasn’t wrong. Y/n loved Orion enough to send him home with his own stack of books just to ensure they were both happy. If Natasha liked Y/n, she couldn’t be too bad, and they hadn’t added an outsider to the group since before Orion was born. One more friend wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

They were all due for a little change, and Y/n could be just what they all needed.

Previous // Next

[lets-talk-appella]

It’s Legal in Munich

Ch 4/4

Summary: Lonely in Munich, Germany, Chloe hires an escort to pass the night. AU. Originally for Bechloe Week 2019: 20 Questions.

Words: 5k

Rating: T

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

AO3 and FFN

Chloe really should have seen this coming.

She’s definitely the kind of person to whom this would happen.

Still, here she is, packing her suitcase for the next chapter in her travel adventure and finding herself completely blindsided by how hard it is to move on from Beca.

Which is ridiculous. They aren’t together. They’d talked about how not-together they are. It should be a non-issue because they’re so not-together. It should be that simple. Chloe should be able to throw a wave and a smile over her shoulder at Beca and board her plane without ever looking back.

And yet.

It’s her own fault, really. It’s so easy to be around Beca. It feels natural, as if they were meant to have met. They’re so different from one another, but somehow they’re on the same wavelength. It has to be the music. That’s it. Beca lives and breathes music. She’s also kind, honest, and totally adorable. Even though she’d probably glare at Chloe if the word “adorable” was so much as whispered in her presence.

Chloe should have known better.

She’s not stupid. She knows her feelings won’t change a thing. She’s still getting on a plane tomorrow and leaving.

Beca isn’t going with her. Beca is staying in Munich, along with a much larger piece of Chloe’s heart than she would really like to admit.

Chloe folds her last blouse carefully, placing it neatly into the suitcase she’s packed and repacked and rearranged no fewer than four times so far. She’ll probably redo the whole thing at least once again before she actually leaves for the airport tomorrow.

She’s pretty much ready to go. She’s checked into her flight on their mobile app. She’s seen the big tourist draws in Munich, along with more of the local haunts—all thanks to Beca, of course. She’s got her S-Bahn ticket to the Munich airport. She’s memorized the route from her destination airport in Krakow, Poland to her hotel. Her suitcase is packed, and she’s left an outfit out for tomorrow.

Chloe stares at her suitcase, eyes traveling over its contents without really seeing any of it.

It doesn’t seem like Beca’s having all that hard of a time moving on. If she’s honest with herself, Chloe knows she should have seen this coming, too. Hadn’t Beca told her, after all, that what she does is run? Beca had always been honest with her about what was going to happen at the end of Chloe’s time in Munich. Beca had avoided labeling them, mostly for that reason.

Chloe hasn’t really heard from Beca in a while. Well, two days. Not since their electric scooter date. Which wasn’t a date, exactly, but was more of a… well, it was basically a date. She knows Beca is okay; they have been sending brief texts back and forth, but nothing of any substance. It makes sense. Chloe’s leaving tomorrow, so Beca is protecting herself. Chloe doesn’t fault her for it.

They’d agreed to meet up one more time for dinner at the same bierhaus Beca had taken her to earlier. A sort of farewell dinner that Chloe already knows is going to be, as everything with Beca always has been, fun and exciting and bittersweet and painful. Chloe takes a deep breath.

Maybe it would be better for her to cancel and save them the trouble. She can already picture the way Beca’s going to spend the dinner rubbing awkwardly at the back of her neck, her eyes darting around the room. She knows it isn’t that Beca is uncomfortable, but rather that Beca can’t stand goodbyes.

More than once, Chloe has caught Beca watching her, a strange expression on her face. Chloe never called her on it, though. She knows Beca’s struggling with this whole thing just as much as she is.

That’s the worst thing about this. Chloe knows perfectly well that Beca feels the same way about her. She can lie to herself all day, pretending that Beca doesn’t care, but it’s simply not true. Beca cares so much more than she feels comfortable with revealing.

A knock on the door startles Chloe, causing her to emit an involuntary little squeak of surprise. She looks at the closed door, already knowing who is standing in the hallway beyond it. She draws her lower lip into her mouth; it’s too late to cancel their evening after all.

She moves mechanically toward the door, her stomach fluttering with the same nerves she’d felt upon first meeting Beca. As she did then, too, she has to pause for a moment with her hand resting on the handle. She takes a deep breath. Another. Then opens the door, fighting a strong sense of Deja-vu.

The little smile-smirk that Beca gives her, though, is different from the one she’d given when they’d first met. This one is softer, more open, and is accompanied by a little, “Hey.” Beca, no matter how unwittingly and unwillingly, has become familiar. Her presence wraps Chloe in complete comfort.

Any thought that Chloe had had of cancelling their evening flies out the window at top speed and tips headlong over the balcony to shatter into fragments on the concrete below.

“Hi,” Chloe replies, her eyes drawn for the first time to the food containers Beca holds in her hands. “Is that...”

Beca glances down at the containers in her hands. “Oh, yeah. From the same bierhaus restaurant we went to before. It’s kind of raining, so I thought, you know, instead of going out, maybe we should just stay in?”

Chloe hadn’t even noticed the rain; as soon as Beca points it out, though, she can hear it gently pattering on the roof above. “Sure,” she agrees easily. “But don’t you think it’s more romantic to kiss in the rain?” She has no idea what makes her say those words, but they escape from her lips before she can even try to stop them.

Color rises in Beca’s cheeks unexpectedly and she glances downward with a small huff.

Her embarrassment surprises Chloe, and she tries to backtrack. “Um, I didn’t—”

“You have a balcony, don’t you?” Beca interrupts, arching an eyebrow as her color returns to normal. “We can always kiss on that.”

This time, it’s Chloe who finds herself tongue-tied. Before she can come up with any kind of counter, Beca continues.

“Unless you were hoping for one more stroll through Munich?” she offers. “Which would be fair.”

“Tempting,” Chloe muses, regaining her voice, “but a night in sounds really nice, too.”

Even as she finishes her sentence, she kicks herself mentally. Spending any more time alone with Beca is only going to make leaving her so much worse.

“Great,” Beca grins, her smile widening and eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you gonna start by inviting me in?”

Chloe laughs quietly and rolls her eyes at the old joke. “Are you a vampire or something?” she asks playfully as she steps aside, gesturing Beca into the room. “Always having to be invited in.”

Beca steps inside, shrugging off her jacket in a move that really shouldn’t be sexy but totally is. “Nah, but how cool would it be if I could turn into a bat?”

“I’d rather not get rabies,” Chloe teases as she closes the door and locks it.

Beca’s smile changes into a smirk and she fires back, “I only bite if I’m asked to.”

It startles a laugh out of Chloe, full and free, and she knows Beca won that round. “Speaking of,” she begins, leading Beca to the balcony, “did you have a client last night? I was kind of surprised you were even free tonight.”

It’s Saturday, and typically, Beca’s time would be booked.

Beca’s expression shifts minutely, a flicker so quick that Chloe can’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “Nah. I haven’t really had clients the past few days.”

“Slow time?”

Beca shrugs. “I guess. What have you been up to?”

Chloe flicks open the latch on the room’s patio door and helps Beca carry the food out to the covered balcony, where they can eat on the little table and will be sheltered from the rain. Out here, the smell and sound of the rain ensnares Chloe, heightening her senses. “Mostly packing, honestly,” she answers. “Some walking around. And figuring out where I want to go after Krakow.”

“Poland?” Beca asks, sounding surprised as she settles into one of the chairs and divides the stack of containers between them. “What’re you going to do there? I’ve never been.”

“I guess there’s a lot to do in the main city square. Lots of good food, lots of history. It looks beautiful online.”

Beca smiles faintly, her eyes not quite meeting Chloe’s. “You’ll have to send me pictures.”

“Y—yeah,” Chloe breathes, the weight of her departure suddenly weighing heavy on her lungs. Desperate to change the subject and avoid the sad awkwardness she’d been dreading, she asks, “What did you bring to eat?”

“Oh, uh,” Beca starts, opening the containers and naming each dish as it’s exposed. She’d brought what seems to be samples of German essentials; schnitzel, spaetzle, white asparagus with hollandaise, various meats and cheese, and a huge pretzel. “And there’s always…” Beca trails off, lifting the lid off a final container to reveal two slices of chocolate cake. “I got the order right this time,” she grins at Chloe.

Chloe smiles back, surveying the food. “This is really nice, Bec, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Beca replies, looking out over the balcony railing to survey the sprawl of rainy Munich. Her posture is just a little too rigid, her tone a smidge clipped.

Chloe instantly knows there’s something Beca’s holding back. Her first impulse is to start questioning, but she catches herself. She knows Beca well enough by this point to understand that Beca will open up when she’s ready. So, to pass the time, Chloe starts on the meal, trying to savor every bite. She doesn’t know when she’ll be in Germany again, and she wants to memorize its flavors.

Beca eventually tears her gaze away from the rain-soaked city to instead focus on their meal. It’s several minutes before either of them breaks the silence, though Chloe’s fairly certain she can hear the whirring of Beca’s mind.

“So, uh, actually…” Beca breaks the quiet first, clearing her throat and looking almost nervous.

Chloe swallows her most recent bite of food and rests her fork against the edge of her plate, waiting patiently for Beca to say what she needs to say.

“Sorry I haven’t really been around much the last few days,” Beca says slowly. She presses her lips together and runs her tongue over her teeth before continuing, every word spoken almost cautiously. “I’ve been kind of... arranging things.”

“Things?” Chloe asks, surprised. The script is, as is always the case with Beca, not what she had expected.

“Yeah. Um, the day we did the scooter... thing,” Beca reminds her, waving a hand in the air aimlessly, “I got an email from my old boss in LA. The music production studio?” the pitch of her voice raises, making it sound like a question.

Chloe’s heart speeds up and she nods uncertainly, her stomach fluttering with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

“Yeah,” Beca says again, “so I guess my boss kind of—on a whim—shared some of my old demos with a few different production studios, and this place in New York got back to him. They’re interested. In what I can do,” she adds, an afterthought.

Chloe’s jaw drops. She knows she must look ridiculous; Beca starts to smirk at her, but Chloe recovers quickly enough to speak first. “Beca! That’s amazing! You—congratulations!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Beca says, blinking a little.

“No, really, that’s—what’s it called, the place in New York?”

Beca screws up her nose in thought. “BFD? I’d never heard of them, but I guess it’s an up and coming company.”

“That could be an amazing opportunity,” Chloe hedges, craving more details.

“Yeah, I… yeah.”

“Beca.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you give them an answer?” Chloe actually thinks she might explode if Beca doesn’t start giving details.

“Oh. Well, it doesn’t really work like that. Like, I have to interview and stuff,” Beca clarifies, looking more awkward by the second.

Chloe forces herself to calm down and count to five before asking her next in a series of questions; as excited as she is for Beca, she doesn’t want to force her into doing anything she doesn’t truly want to do.

“Do you want to interview?” she eventually asks, taking a bite of asparagus to seem nonchalant.

Beca hesitates, then gives a single jerky nod. “Yeah, it—it’s terrifying,” she huffs with a little smile, “but I said yes. To an interview. Terrifying and exciting,” she adds, another afterthought.

“It definitely is both terrifying and exciting, for sure,” Chloe agrees. “Though I’d have said you were crazy if you hadn’t agreed.”

“It feels a little crazy to interview anyway,” Beca shrugs, now reaching for her slice of cake. “It’s been so long.”

“Maybe. But they’re going to love you. How could they not?” Chloe asks before she can stop herself. Her face warms and she tries to hide it by taking another bite of her food. “So, uh, is it over Skype or phone or…”

“No, they want to show me around in person,” Beca mumbles through her mouthful of dessert. “I have to go over there.”

“That’s a good sign! When?”

“I fly out tomorrow.”

The words land between them, flopping unexpectedly onto the table. For a moment, Chloe simply looks at Beca and Beca simply looks at Chloe.

“Tomorrow…” Chloe trails off. Tomorrow is turning out to be a big day.

Beca nods maybe over-enthusiastically. “I checked, and our flights are actually pretty close together. We could—we could go to the airport together, if you want.”

Chloe doesn’t want to go to the airport together at all, because every additional minute she spends with Beca, it becomes that much harder to be able to leave. At the same time, it would also mean prolonging the time they have together.

“That would be awes,” she says, now starting on her own slice of cake.

“Cool,” Beca sighs happily, sitting back in her chair. “And, uh, also, I quit my job as an escort.”

“You did?” Chloe asks, surprise rippling through her.

“Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t going to, because if this whole interview thing doesn’t work out… well, I still need a job,” Beca says practically. “But I was thinking about it, and I decided that even if it doesn’t work out, maybe it’s time for me to try to, you know, figure things out.”

Chloe knows she’s smiling like an idiot, but she can’t help it. “Bec, that’s… I’m so proud of you! That takes a lot.”

Beca smiles at her happily. “You inspired me, I guess.”

And Chloe doesn’t really know what to say to that—her heart is beating too loudly for her to really think of anything—so she settles for a wink and another bite of cake. Beca’s eyes don’t leave her as she eats, searching her expression until it starts to make Chloe self-conscious.

“Do I have something on my face again?” she asks, mostly teasing.

Beca blinks and seems to shake herself. “Oh, no, just… what about you?”

“Hmm? What about me.”

“You know,” Beca lifts one shoulder. “With the vet stuff. With Aubrey. With singing and all that.”

“Oh.” Chloe again pauses, resting her fork on the table. “That.”

Beca grins crookedly at her but doesn’t say anything. She pushes away her now-empty cake container.

“I… don’t know,” Chloe says slowly. “I’ve been thinking and… I don’t know.”

Beca shrugs. “You don’t have to know right now,” she says softly.

“Yeah, I…” Chloe sighs. “I know that I can’t stay here forever. But… vet school has always been the plan, but I don’t know… what if I don’t get accepted anywhere?”

The question seems to catch them both by surprise; Chloe hadn’t realized that such a prospect frightened her so much, and Beca stares at her for a moment, blinking slowly.

Beca recovers first. “You’ll get in,” she says, eyes wide. “You’re really smart. And, you know, on the off chance if not, there are other options.”

“I suppose.”

Beca watches her, expression turning calculating. “I could see you as a music teacher.”

“Yeah?” Chloe asks, surprised again.

“Definitely.”

“I have thought about that before, actually.”

Beca lifts a hand to her chin, narrowing her eyes in thought. “It would suit you, I think.”

Chloe snorts at her ridiculous expression. “I would want to do elementary school, probably. Because—”

“Because you could teach them to love music,” Beca guesses. It’s not a question.

Chloe stares at her. Is it really possible that Beca already knows her that well? “I… yeah, exactly. You just… exactly.”

“I like that. You’d be great at that, too.”

Chloe toys with her napkin, the harder part of Beca’s question bouncing around her head now. “I think I should call Aubrey,” she eventually says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Just to see,” Chloe shrugs, a finger tracing absently over the details in the grain of the wooden table. “I miss her.”

“I hope it works out between you two.”

“Me too.”

They both fall quiet, the gentle rain the only sound breaking the silence. Chloe shifts in her chair, a weird mood settling over her and pressing on her lungs. She finds herself thinking that if she and Beca had met sooner—maybe while they’d both been at Barden—they each could have figured out their lives that much sooner.

Maybe sensing Chloe’s shift in mood, Beca clears her throat. “So, do you want to watch a movie or anything?”

“A movie would be good,” Chloe replies gratefully, her wishful thinking scattering to the wind as she and Beca rise simultaneously from their chairs to clear the table.

It doesn’t take long to gather the empty food containers and utensils. With another look over the balcony at the darkening Munich horizon, Chloe follows Beca back inside the room and slides the patio door closed. They place the food containers on the room’s service cart and, without further ado, Chloe climbs onto her king-sized bed, props a pillow against the headboard, and leans back against it.

Still standing at the foot of the bed, Beca hesitates, her eyes flicking in the direction of the armchair as if she isn’t sure if she should join Chloe. Refraining from rolling her eyes in amusement, Chloe pats the space next to her on the bed pointedly.

“Right,” Beca mutters before joining Chloe on the bed. The mattress dips and moves as she crawls on her hands and knees to get to the head of the bed, and for some reason, the sight makes Chloe’s stomach flutter. Reaching her, Beca also props a pillow against the headboard, glancing up at the bottom of the storage cabinets above their heads.

“Comfy?” Chloe asks.

“Yep,” Beca says happily, settling back against her pillow. “Uh, I guess now we find the movie channel?”

“Thought you didn’t like movies,” Chloe remembers, reaching for the remote. “You sure about this?”

“Just don’t pick a boring movie,” Beca teases.

“I’ll do my best.”

She clicks the remote to turn on the TV, not sure what to expect. The first channel seems to be a news broadcast, given in German. She frowns and clicks the remote, scrolling through channel after channel, hoping for something watchable. Except...

Beca laughs as Chloe circles back all the way to the original news broadcast. “It’s in German. All of it.”

Chloe huffs. “I know we’re in Munich, but every channel is in German? Really?”

Beca bumps their shoulders together playfully. “It’s all good. Or I should say gut.”

“Okay, let’s just…” Chloe trails off, scrolling back a couple of channels until she goes back to what could be a German soap opera. She gestures to the TV, an actor’s dramatically brooding face filling the screen. “What do you think he’s saying?”

“Hmm,” Beca muses, staring at the screen for a moment. The actor mumbles something in rapid German, his face twisting. “I think he said, ‘I had a bad chalupa for lunch and now I regret it.’”

Chloe lets out a snort.

“All right, let’s see you do any better, nerd,” Beca goads her.

The soap opera cuts to an actress, tearful and heavily pregnant. She stares beseechingly at the handsome actor, asking him something in a quavering voice.

“Okay, so,” Chloe gets ready to translate, “she said, ‘This is what happens when you swallow watermelon seeds.’”

Beca’s lips twitch as she stares at the TV. “Interesting, interesting. I could see that.”

“I’m so good at German.”

“Definitely,” Beca says, looking over at Chloe, locking eyes.

Chloe’s breath catches in her throat; she hadn’t expected Beca’s face to be quite so close to hers.

The world around them fades away until Beca consumes Chloe’s every sense. She’s very aware of Beca, of every quiet breath she takes, of the blue of her eyes. She’s most aware of Beca’s proximity to her, the space of only a few inches separating them.

Beca’s eyes flick down to her lips. “What happens now?” she breathes.

“I don’t know,” Chloe whispers.

Beca lifts a shoulder. “Maybe it’s time for both of us to go home.”

A dull pain races through Chloe’s chest at the thought. “I… I don’t want to go home without you.”

Beca’s eyes close and she takes a deep breath. “Chloe, we can’t… tomorrow, we’re both—”

“I know.”

Beca’s eyes open again. “Okay,” she sighs, but then a corner of her mouth quirks up. “You want to play twenty questions?”

Chloe nods, her breath catching in her throat. Allowing her own eyes to drop to Beca’s lips, she asks, “Can I kiss you?”

It’s Chloe’s question, but it’s Beca who moves first. A hand rises to cup Chloe’s cheek gently at the same time Beca’s lips meet hers. She starts slow and soft, all gentle pressure that only builds when Chloe sighs into it, parting her lips.

Beca’s lips, soft and slightly chapped, meet hers again and again, each time at a new, more perfect angle. The hand on Chloe’s cheek slides around to the back of her neck, as if Beca instinctively knows the angle of the kiss is harsh.

Chloe’s own hands move, one bracing herself up on the mattress and the other resting on Beca’s hip. Under her touch, Beca is warm and solid. Their breath mingles, and Chloe is able to taste the hint of chocolate on Beca’s. Chloe’s lower lip is snared gently between Beca’s teeth; it pulls a soft whimper from within her chest and Beca smiles into the kiss, pressing closer.

Chloe has never been kissed like this before, so slow and thorough. She’s had her share of good and great kisses. Every kiss with Beca prior to this had been nothing less than amazing. But this is different. Chloe had always believed her body belongs to her, and to her alone. Right now, though… yours, she thinks as Beca deepens the kiss. I’m yours.

The curl of Beca’s tongue around her own makes Chloe’s fingers curl into the denim at Beca’s hip. She pulls, guides, until she’s lying on the bed with Beca half on top of her.

“Chloe,” Beca breathes, pulling back slightly, and for a second, Chloe’s terrified she’s about to stop. But then Beca’s mouth descends along her jaw, until Chloe has to tilt her head to expose more of her neck to Beca’s lips. Her fingers wind themselves into Beca’s tresses, and when Beca pauses at her pulse point, Chloe knows she must be able to feel how quickly her heart is pounding.

At the first touch of Beca’s tongue on her skin, Chloe gasps and arches. Again, Beca pauses, only to pull Chloe’s skin into her mouth more firmly, marking her. Chloe chokes on air, desire welling inside her and building low in her gut, and her hands drop to Beca’s backside, pulling her hips forward.

This time, it’s Beca who gasps, a broken breath leaving her and dissipating over Chloe’s overheated skin. “I…”

Drawing her lip between her teeth, hoping above all she isn’t reading things wrong, Chloe takes her hands from Beca’s ass to instead reach between them, unbuttoning Beca’s top. Beca goes still above her but doesn’t say anything. Her breathing becomes rapid puffs as Chloe undoes the last button and the shirt falls open.

Chloe just looks for a moment, stares at Beca’s chest in her simple black bra, before reaching to touch her gently. Beca’s eyes flutter and her head drops so she rests her forehead against Chloe’s.

“Chloe,” she whispers again. “You know—”

“I know,” Chloe says, her hands sliding over Beca’s bare skin to rest on her lower back. “But I don’t care.”

Beca stares down at her for a moment, eyes jumping between each of her own. Chloe waits, her entire body screaming for Beca’s touch. When Beca sits up, Chloe’s stomach plummets. But then Beca allows her shirt to slide the rest of the way from her shoulders and reaches to the headboard; she flicks a little switch, and the room lights go out as soft light emits from above the bed.

Chloe blinks up, surprised. “How did you know about that?”

Beca smiles down at her, features soft in the warm lighting. “I saw it the first time I was here.”

Chloe gives a small laugh that breaks off as the tips of Beca’s fingers toy with the hem of her shirt. They trace back and forth for several long seconds, until Chloe becomes impatient. She reaches down and sits up so she can whip the shirt over her head and off the side of the bed. Beca’s eyes drop immediately, and when Chloe lies down again, she pulls Beca back down on top of her.

Beca kisses her again, deep and searing, again breaking away to kiss down her jaw, her neck, her chest. She shifts again, her thigh landing high between Chloe’s. Fire races down Chloe’s spine and she arches, her own hand winding into her hair.

“Bec,” she gasps, and Beca’s lips return to hers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Beca says between kisses. “So, so beautiful.”

Completely overwhelmed, Chloe squirms under Beca, trying to pull her closer. Her hands slide over Beca’s bra strap, and she drags her nails lightly down Beca’s back until she finds the waistband of her pants. Beca stills over her as Chloe’s fingers slide around her hips to rest at the button of her jeans.

Beca pulls away so they can look into each other’s eyes. “Chlo…”

“Do you—” Chloe has to pause to moisten her lips. “Can we—”

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.” Chloe doesn’t hesitate. She has no reason to.

Beca’s eyes flutter again, and when she looks at Chloe, it takes Chloe’s breath from her lungs. “Okay,” she says, pressing a gentle kiss to Chloe’s lips. “Yes.”

With trembling fingers, Chloe opens the button and draws down the zipper.

*****************************

They’d taken a train to the airport. They’d gone through security together. They’d wasted as much time as possible wandering the hallways between gates, hand-in-hand as they looked through the ridiculously overpriced shops before returning to Beca’s gate, as her flight leaves first. Chloe knows they’ve only delayed the inevitable, though, and before she’s entirely ready (not that she’d ever really be ready), it’s time.

The desk attendant calls for boarding and, though it’ll take a little while until Beca’s zone is called, Chloe knows they have to say their goodbyes.

“So,” Beca starts, glancing over at her.

“Yeah,” Chloe sighs, something in her chest giving an uncomfortable tug.

“Yeah.”

They look at each other for a long moment.

“Um—”

“Beca—”

They try to speak simultaneously, and it breaks off into an awkward laugh. Beca rubs at the back of her neck.

“You go first,” Chloe says, knowing Beca would rather get it out of the way.

“Well,” Beca huffs with a small smile. “I was just gonna say that I’m glad you were bored enough in Munich to hire an escort to play twenty questions.”

Chloe feels a corner of her mouth lift. “I’m glad, too.”

Beca grins at her crookedly, then rubs at the end of her nose with the palm of her hand. “Um, what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, uh, I was going to say that I’m glad it was you,” Chloe says delicately. Because it would have been entirely inappropriate to voice what she’d really been wanting to say—Take me with you—and what she ended up saying is completely true anyway.

Beca gives her that signature close-lipped smile. “So, um, I don’t know if this interview… I mean, it’s still early stages,” she says, as though she isn’t almost guaranteed the job. Chloe knows she’ll get the job; how could she not? “But either way, I think I’ll be staying there—New York—for a little while. And, you know, if you want, when you get back—”

“I’ll call you,” Chloe promises, entwining their fingers together. “Definitely.”

“I don’t know for sure what’ll happen.”

“Neither do I. We match.”

“Cool,” Beca laughs right as the desk attendant calls for final boarding. “I should—”

“Totes,” Chloe says, trying to force a smile as they stand from the uncomfortable gate seats.

Beca checks that she has her bag and hadn’t left anything behind before meeting Chloe’s eyes. “Good luck out there, Chlo,” she says, blinking more often than she normally might.

“You too, Bec,” Chloe manages, her own eyes starting to sting.

There’s a beat of silence where Chloe isn’t sure if they should kiss or not, but the crowd around them makes the decision for them. Instead, she pulls Beca into a tight hug, burying her nose into her neck and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

She hadn’t known Beca long, but Beca feels like home.

Beca has to pull away first. With a nod and a vague gesture in the direction of the dwindling line to board the plane, she starts walking. Chloe thinks she might make some parting noise, but her own throat is too tight to respond.

Still, she watches as Beca joins the line, watches Beca had her boarding pass to the ticketer to be scanned. With barely a glance back and not much fanfare, she watches Beca turn and enter the tunnel, and then she’s gone.

Walking to her own gate, Chloe smiles. She’s definitely texting Beca as soon as she lands.

[seriouslyhooked]

Feels Like This (Part 8)

Emma Swan is a once lost girl who is now making good. She has made a way in the world for her and her young son, Henry, and after years of hard work, Emma is in her last stretch of schooling for the career she’s always wanted. Unexpectedly, she finds herself in a tiny nation no one’s ever heard of for her last year of study. She knows nothing about the place except that it’s beautiful, has a world-renowned child life program, and is filled with possibility. Meanwhile, Prince Killian is hardly happy with the title he received at birth. As the second in line for the crown, Killian has long tried shaking his royal duties. He built a career in the royal navy, and has stayed out of the limelight, but his ship has been called to port indefinitely at the request of his brother, the King. Fate (in her many forms) brings Emma and Killian together and the resulting fic is a cute, fluffy, trope filled romp featuring heart felt moments, a healthy dose of insta-love and an assured happily ever after. Story rated M and will have 12 parts. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So I was writing this chapter before and during the angst of posting the parade chapter, and I want to just say, that while I knew many of you would be stressed, I imagined this chapter (and chapter 7) as a healing remedy. This is filled with first date fluff and cuteness and also some more needed disclosures between Killian and Emma. it represents a real beginning, and hopefully you’ll all enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Anyway, without further ado, here goes!

Okay, Emma, don’t panic. It’s just Killian. You like Killian. Actually, you really like Killian. And yes, he might be a prince, but that doesn’t have to mean so much when you think about it. A date is a date. Sure you haven’t been on one in years, and certainly not with a man you actually cared about. But it’s fine. It’s so fine. You got this. It’s not like he’s taking you to the palace for the date. Oh Jesus, he’s not taking me to the palace is he? I know he said he wasn’t but –

“I can practically hear you overthinking things through the door, Emma. Cut it out!” Anna scolded with her ever present affection laced into the sharp words. The censure snapped Emma’s focus back into the moment and reminded her that time was ticking, and she had others waiting on her. “Now come on, we want to see your dress, don’t we Henry?”

“Yeah, Mom. Open up!”

Anna and Henry’s headed back down the hall, and Emma heard their footsteps loudly thumping in a purposefully dramatic way. They hadn’t even waited for her reply, they just commanded her to get a move on. Emma smiled at their antics, despite her flurry of nerves, and looked back to the mirror one last time. She smoothed out the lines of the delicate dress she’d chosen for tonight, recalling Killian’s promise that they would have complete privacy and no expectations. With that assurance, she went with something pretty and yet still comfortable. Her chosen sun dress reflected the seasonal heat they’d been experiencing, but the pretty pink color was not her usual choice. It was different, but it felt special, and as she’d been choosing from the hordes of outfits Anna and Elsa offered when they arrived, Emma couldn’t help remembering Cecelia’s words at the center’s picnic. She’d said pink was for princesses, and though Emma by no means thought herself a princess, she wanted to feel a bit surer of herself in a not so normal situation.

“All right, I’m coming out,” Emma announced, swinging the door open and heading out for the big reveal.

Elsa, Anna and Henry were all gathered by the television, plotting out their movies to watch and snacks to consume while she and Killian went out for the night. Emma was so grateful to have new people in her life who would give up their one night off from work to help her care for her son, but when she tried to thank them, Elsa and Anna waved off her gratitude as unnecessary. Already they considered her a ‘dear friend’ and they were thrilled to spend more time with Henry. Henry was equally excited, but when he knew this was happening so Emma and Killian could go out, that excitement was compounded. He’d loved every minute they spent with Killian yesterday, and he’d reaffirmed that all day long. Henry had also been very clear of his approval and his want for Emma to give this a real chance.

When she came into view of her friends and her son, Emma felt a bit of lingering uncertainty, but it faded in the sight of everyone’s reactions. Elsa and Anna were so expressive, both of them clapping and smiling immediately.

“Oh, it’s perfect, Emma, just perfect,” Elsa said happily while Anna gave her own assessment.

“I really thought you should go with something more formal, but you were so right. This is the one.”

Emma smiled at the thought and looked to Henry. The softness of his expression made her throat tighten unexpectedly, and in seconds she was ready to cry. He looked so sweet and filled with adoration, and then he said the most beautiful words that always made a mother truly happy. “You look beautiful, Mom.”

“Thanks, kid,” she said, gesturing for him to come over. He ran to her, giving her a big hug that made her teeter slightly on her wedged shoes. She held on tight though, cherishing this love from her son and taking strength from his love for her. “You sure it’s really ok?”

“Killian’s not going to know what hit him,” Henry agreed with a grin. Then that smile faltered and Emma grew worried.

“Everything okay, Henry?” her son nodded.

“Yeah, Mom. Everything is great. You know I like Killian. He was so cool yesterday, and he makes you happy. I saw that.”

Emma couldn’t disagree. Even with all the unknowns and the questions and the hurt yesterday she had been happy. Spending time with Killian and Henry together had been easy and fun. It felt natural, and she’d loved that. It scared her, but she wanted it, and that was part of the reason she’d chosen to forgive Killian and still try despite everything that happened. Still, she felt there was something Henry wasn’t saying, and she waited her son out to see if he’d tell the full truth.

“You deserve this, Mom. I know you’re nervous still, about getting back out there after what happened with my Dad,” her heart stopped. They rarely ever talked about Neal, but when they did Emma always worried. Her priority was Henry and she never wanted him to feel like he was missing something. But in this moment, Henry quickly put those worries to rest. “But this is different. Killian is not like that.”

“You seem pretty sure about that,” Emma said, trying for lightness in tone, but not quite getting there.

“I am sure. You always told me to follow my gut, and my gut says that Killian is good for you. Good for us. Don’t you think?”

“I think…” Emma said, weighing her words carefully. Because yes, she did think that might be the case, but it was still very early on in whatever this relationship was, and she didn’t want to build up hopes too high for her or her son. “I think that I am excited for this date. So, what does that tell you?”

Henry grinned. He looked poised to say more but then a knock sounded at the door. Emma’s stomach flipped in anticipation and all the butterflies came back full force.  Oh god he was here. This was actually happening.

“Look at that,” Anna said gleefully, gesturing to her watch. “He’s three whole minutes early. Someone’s certainly eager.”

“Anna,” Elsa said, chastising her sister, but only in jest. Elsa then came to stand and took Emma’s hands as a means of reassuring her. “You got this Emma. You can be totally certain we’ve got things handled here. Your only job is to go and have a marvelous time, okay?”

“And then report back all the details to us later,” Anna said. Elsa rolled her eyes, which made Emma laugh in spite of her anxiety, and then smiled.

“Any and all detail sharing is up to you.”

“Thank you. Both of you,” Emma said to Elsa and Anna. “Now Henry, you be good, okay?”

“You got it, dude,” he said sticking his thumbs up and quoting a show from her childhood that he’d taken to as a kid when it was on constant reruns. She laughed again, and allowed that laughter to carry her to the door. She didn’t give herself a chance to second guess, she just went for it, and then she saw Killian on the other side and she was spellbound, caught in a web of how handsome he looked.

“Emma.”

His voice sounded out in a deep rumble, gruff with feeling as his eyes took her in. She barely noticed though, distracted as she was by his outfit. Damn, it should not be legal for a man to be that hot. He was that perfect mix of formal and casual, and she momentarily forgot her audience. In fact, she forgot about everything except Killian, and by the time her eyes met his again, he was smiling this sinful smirk that lit her up inside. Crap, he’d caught her ogling him, but when he stepped towards her and filled the air around her with the scent of him she was lost again. She wanted to melt into him right now, but he held back, teasing her but never quite following through.

“I’ve no intention of waiting to the end of the evening to taste you, love,” he whispered, low enough that only she would hear. “But at the present moment we’ve got an audience, and I won’t put you through that.”

Emma nodded, thinking he meant Henry, Anna and Elsa but then she looked over his shoulder and saw the detail he’d had to bring. She blushed at the fact that she’d forgotten herself, but Killian didn’t give her any time to linger in that. Instead he took her hand in his gently. She assumed they’d leave straight away, but he surprised her by asking how Henry was.

“He’s great actually. Elsa and Anna are already spoiling him and I haven’t even left yet,” she said and Killian’s amusement was so genuine it touched her heart. “Do you want to say hi before we go?”

“I would love that,” he confessed and Emma brought him inside, realizing too late that this could be the equivalent of bringing him to the Spanish Inquisition. Her kid already asked a lot of questions, but with Elsa and Anna here, there was simply no way of knowing what would be asked or said. As if he could sense her worry, he squeezed her hand lightly and pressed a reassuring kiss to the top just before they came into view of the others.

“Hey, Killian! I didn’t know you were coming in. I hoped you might, but then Anna said people on dates get all heart eyes and stuff, whatever that means, and maybe you might forget.”

“Couldn’t possibly forget you, lad. Not when you introduced me to the world’s best pizza.”

Henry’s smile at that and his easy hop up from the couch to slap Killian’s hand had Emma absentmindedly rubbing at her heart. She watched the two of them catching up on the day, and also saw how easy Killian was with Anna and Elsa. Both of them lobbed a few sassier questions or comments his way, but he handled it all with grace, and every time he looked back at Emma, which was often, he had a smile on his face, like he was genuinely glad to be here, jumping through all these hoops.

Finally, after a a little visit with all of them, Killian made their excuses, while still keeping their end destination a secret. He offered Emma his hand once more and she took it, following him as he lead her out her front door and to the car. With sure and steady movements, he handed her inside carefully, acting every bit the gentleman. He then came around to the driver’s side and only when they were off and driving did she realize how not normal this must be.

“So what did you have to do to convince Jefferson to let you drive?” she asked.

“Nothing,” Killian said honestly before flashing her a smile. “He’s a smart man. He knows a losing battle when he sees one, and any iteration of this date where I sacrifice alone time with you is definitely a losing battle.”

Emma loved that he’d made this clear, and through the rest of the ride they talked and fell into an easy pattern together. It wasn’t long before they’d reached their destination though and Emma gawked when they pulled up to the magnificent, high, wrought iron gate.

“I thought you said we weren’t going to the palace,” she said, stunned at the size of this place. From the outside it looked like a castle, at least to someone who’d only ever lived in cramped apartments (at best) her whole life.

“This isn’t the palace. It’s another of my family’s estates. Actually, if you want to get technical, it’s mine.”

“Yours,” she said, dumbfounded, but entranced as they were let through and she looked at the stone façade. It was beautifully crafted, and maybe it was smaller than a palace might be, but it was a gorgeous home on a sprawling bit of perfectly manicured land. In a word it was intimidating, but she couldn’t deny the beauty, or the immediate charm of the place.

“Aye. I haven’t spent much time here though. I’ve always been home with my family when on leave. Historically if I so much as mention leaving, my Gran gets cagey and my mother grows quiet, two things you do not want to happen.”

“Bad signs?” Emma joked, and Killian nodded.

“Most definitely. Now though I don’t anticipate any push back.”

“What’s changed?”

“Everything.”

The way he looked at her when he said that told Emma so much. He was talking about her and about them. She felt a flare of heat and appreciation at his affirmation. Knowing he took this seriously made her happy even if she was still not ready to fully jump in. But it begged the question, did his mother and grandmother know about them? Did his brother? What did they think? Did they approve? All these thoughts ran rampant in her mind until Killian drew her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers. Immediately any worries fled and she was just here, with him, in this glorious moment. It felt just as good as she remembered, and she loved the taste of him and the feel of his hard body against hers. Emma never felt more secure or safe than she did in his arms, and she didn’t ever want to draw back. Fear was never on her radar when she kissed this man. She was simply free, free to be herself and to believe in something greater.

“I told you I couldn’t wait for the end of the night,” Killian said, his words a low warble that brushed against her skin when they broke apart. Her eyes opened and she took in his sexy as sin smile and felt her heart skip a beat. Damn this man for being so distracting. He was just so smooth and effortless, but underneath that swagger there was some not so hidden insecurity. He could be this and still be vulnerable with her, and that helped Emma feel like all of this was that much more real.

“Who said you needed to?” she quipped, teasing him with an almost kiss of her own and a soft nip at his lip. He growled and she pulled back, chuckling lightly. “Actually, on second thought, a little waiting never hurt.”

She should not have taken so much pleasure at his groan, but he respected her wishes, taking her hand and leading her inside. His hold on her was sure and strong, and she followed him, intrigued by a place she’d never seen the likes of before. The walkway inside was immaculately gardened. The cobblestone was ancient and even, and the vines along the walls were green and full and bright. There were flowers in the hedgerow, and the glass of all the windows glinted with the remaining sunlight. It was a gorgeous façade, and she was eager to see what beauty lay inside.

Walking into the manor home, Emma was struck by the design and the aura of the place. This home was pristinely kept and yet classic in all ways, but where Emma expected sterile, spacious garishness and overblown luxury, she found none. The mood inside was warm, there was plenty of natural light thanks to all those windows, letting in the dimming summer sun, and historical accents that blended with much more modern fare. Room by room she tried not to gawk at how beautiful it all was. It was wild because it was so different, but there was so much she liked, and so many parts of the house she saw and actually desired. It was a royal getaway but it was still a home, and that was beautiful. Thankfully they did not go on a full tour. That would have been kind of mortifying, and a reminder of how truly different their lives were, but what she did see was stunning. She could imagine Killian here, and for a moment she allowed herself to think if she would like it here and if Henry would too.

But she was getting way ahead of herself. She shook away the thoughts as they entered the kitchen, and once they were inside, she saw the first unkempt part of the house to date. It wasn’t messy, per se, but there were ingredients out and utensils and things for cooking. Actually, it looked like someone had already cooked half of a meal. Some things must be in the fridge, but there was enough on the counters for Emma to be curious. Yet there was no one in the house that she’d seen so far. The staff, Killian informed her, had all been given the night off. The only people on the property were his detail and they were at the gates. This was a secured place so aside from regular rounds, there would be no one walking about, and Killian assured her no one would be in earshot or view of either of them. She looked at Killian quizzically and he explained.

“I thought I might cook you dinner tonight, love, but then I realized, as a relative novice, some parts may take too much time. Between reading the recipes and consulting the videos I found online, it was a rather long process. So, I got what I could done earlier before picking you up. I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

“Killian, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble,” she said shaking her head. No one had ever done anything like this for her. Certainly not someone who had so many other calls on his time and attention.

“It wasn’t any trouble, love. And I hope, when you find out what exactly is on the menu, you’ll be pleased.”

Emma didn’t know what she was expecting him to feed her, but his menu, as he put it, was a mix of elegant refinement and casual things that showed his attentiveness. He had a few courses mapped out, and most were unfamiliar and native to the Montennaran coast, but every one smelled delicious and tasted even better. It was a languid pacing, with Emma offering to help and Killian insisting he could do this. This left her to relax with a glass of some of the best wine she’d ever tasted, and gave the two of them space to talk, all while Emma took in his determination and sheer power of will. He was a beginner in all of this, and some elements took a bit more time because he was new to them, but his carefulness and attention told her so much about him, and all of his patience was well rewarded.

They stopped to share each plate together, and those moments felt especially intimate. They were seated close together, with barely any space between them, sharing each dish and enjoying each other’s company. Of course it was only a matter of time before that closeness got the better of them, but every time Emma thought they’d give in to the crackle of heat between them, Killian would say there was another course left. He’d press a gentle kiss to her cheek or her neck or her lips and be back up cooking once more. Now it was time though for the final course and she was eager to see what he had lined up for dessert.

“So let me guess, this dessert is going to somehow factor in those Montecarri things right?”

“What makes you say that, Swan?” Killian asked, amused at her question, but giving nothing away as he pulled some items from the cabinets. She was so distracted by his smirk she didn’t take stock of what he was gathering.

“Well this has been essentially a culinary tour of this country, and I hear Montecarris are the specialty to end all specialties. Seems fitting to include them.”

“Perhaps it would have been,” Killian hedged, his expression now the tiniest bit unsure. “But I actually had other plans.”

Emma was about to ask what they were when she looked down at the ingredients he’d brought out. Marshmallows, vanilla ice cream, and wait – was that chocolate chip cookie dough? If her eyes did not deceive her, that was chilled dough of a totally American staple, which also happened to be her favorite baked good bar none.

“Okay, I’m intrigued, what are you making?”

“Can’t you tell?” he asked curiously. “It’s your favorite. Well unless I’ve misunderstood.”

Killian explained his intention to bake these cookies and then to move outside to use the outdoor fireplace. He produced two perfect roasting sticks for marshmallows, and suddenly it dawned on her.

“Cookie s’mores,” Emma said in awe. They were her favorite summer treat, and as she looked closer at the dough she could see that there were graham cracker flakes in the mixture. Holy cow, he’d really done his homework for this one. “But how did you know?”

“My first week at the center, you were caught up in the children’s favorite game,” Killian said, alluding to how the kids loved to ask all of the adults about their favorite things. It had apparently been a staple since the older kids watched The Sound of Music. Now all of them loved compiling lists of favorite things as well as a list of things to try and to dream of one day seeing and doing. Thinking back though, Emma couldn’t understand how he would remember something like this. It was weeks ago, and it was such a small moment, but from her handful of words he’d created a road map to something thoughtful and perfect just for her. “You told them about this particular delicacy, and they were fascinated, as they are by damn near everything you say. I’ll admit, I had some trouble sourcing these graham crackers, though. They’re not a staple around here, but a lieutenant of mine from the navy can get anything from anywhere so I called in a favor.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Emma admitted. She found it hard in this moment not to cry, and the reasons for the feeling were all good. She was just a bit overwhelmed at how much he’d really been paying attention and how serious he was about making her happy. And it was working. She felt so good being with him, and for the first time in her life she was scared in a relationship, not because she didn’t want to trust, but because she didn’t want to let go.

“Perhaps you should save any declarations one way or another until after they’re made?” Killian teased and she knew he was looking for a smile, but she couldn’t just stop there. Instead she moved around the counter and pulled him in for a kiss, showing him how much this gesture meant to her in the scheme of an already beautiful night.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered when they came up for air. His eyes were filled with admiration and want, and she could see he was barely holding back, even as his cursed words sounded more like a prayer than anything else. Emma grinned and let out a low laugh as she ran her fingertips along his jaw.

“I think it’s safe to say that I love this, but just in case there was any doubt…” Emma said, and she purposefully left her meaning ambiguous. To him he might think it was just the s’mores she was discussing, but it was actually so much more. She loved being with him, on this date and just in general. She loved this snapshot he’d provided at a perfect quiet moment. And she loved the passion and the hope this man brought forth in her life so often. Despite yesterday’s uncertainty, she felt firmer in herself and in this new relationship than she ever had, and that was thanks to Killian and his kindhearted ways.

“You’ll never know what it means to me to hear that, love,” Killian admitted and she smiled at him once more. “I only hope you like the rest of the evening as much as you’ve enjoyed all this.”

And as they finalized things here in the house to make the rest of their dessert out back, Emma knew that she would enjoy whatever was coming down the pike. Because with Killian at the helm, she could have total faith in what was coming, and that feeling of safety and excitement that had been with her all evening would continue in the best and most wonderful way.

…………………

Sitting beside the outdoor flame, watching Emma laugh in the flickering fire light as she tried not to set her marshmallow ablaze, Killian knew he had never been more at peace.

Tonight was a revelation, just as many of his moments with Emma had been, but this was different. This time, Emma knew he was a Prince, and though he saw her eyes widen at the ostentatious gates and the vastness of this house, she never made him feel different or otherized. It may not be her norm, but there was no judgment from Emma or expectation. She had rallied and clearly chosen to be herself despite all of this, and that allowed him to do the same. It was a remarkable feeling, and a pleasure he never believed he could have as long as he lived here in Montennaro.

For the past few hours, Killian had done his best to memorize each moment. He kept tabs on all of Emma’s words and expressions. She was touched by his cooking for her, and though he was somewhat overwhelmed by all the things that could go wrong, she seemed to have complete faith in him. She also cherished all of their closer moments together, and he felt her wanting and the way it mirrored his own. There was so much brimming underneath the surface, a tantalizing knowledge that their chemistry was bound to combust sooner rather than later, but still he held back, savoring Emma the best way he knew how and trying to treat her to the perfect first date that she deserved. He wanted to carry all these little pieces of this evening with him for the rest of his days, even while dreaming of making a million more memories like this in the weeks and years to come.

Tonight had also solidified his hope for a future with Emma. He had known for some time that that he was in love with her. Interest and infatuation grew surely towards love early on for him, and now he cared for Emma in a way that would outlive his time on this earth. There was no denying how connected he was to her, and how enduring this bond he felt was becoming. She had his heart and his hopes tied so effortlessly around her, he stood no chance at getting either back again. But seeing her here, in his home, and in the place he was expected to build his future, changed something, taking things even further than they’d been before.

For the first time Killian could imagine Emma with him in his world. He could see a path for them to meet in the middle and to carve out a life they both could love. He had duties and responsibilities as Prince, some of which would require Emma’s participation if they continued to be together, but he would fight tooth and nail to give Emma everything she wanted and deserved outside of royal expectation. He couldn’t give her a fully normal existence, but he could give her love, support, and opportunity. He knew she’d want to work with the Institute still, and likely do even more for children all around the country and the world and he’d see to it that she could. He’d move mountains for her to help her feel fulfilled, because all he needed to feel that way was her. She was his home and his purpose, first date or not, and he prayed that someday she could see a home with him here. If not, he didn’t know what he’d do. All he knew was that living without her was not an option.

“You’re making that face again,” Emma said and Killian looked to her, grounding himself in the feeling of his hands on her lithe form as she turned their sugary treats until they were a perfect toasty brown.

He’d had his hands on her as much as he could tonight, and he was addicted to the feel of her. He did not know how he could go another day without touching her. Even a few hours felt too long a stretch. Emma soothed him and excited him at once, his heart raced but his demons stayed away. Feeling so much and having those feelings be good was something he’d never known before, but yes, sometimes worries crept in. He couldn’t help fearing that somehow she would leave him, and his hands were tied at the moment. He couldn’t tell her everything he felt so early on, but he’d never feel fully comfortable until he could. Still, the way she looked at him, like she knew him even better than he knew himself, should terrify him. Emma saw into his soul and could read him fully, scars and all. But instead of running from the attention like he did with anyone else, he was filled with pleasure. To know that she cared and that she was in this with him meant everything, and that eased the pain of his thoughts and worries being so obvious.

“What face is that love?” He feigned ignorance, though he knew exactly what she was getting at.

“The one you get when I’m leaving, or when you’re worried that I will,” Emma said, pulling out her golden treat from the fire and offering it to him. He absentmindedly took it as she continued on. “You had it yesterday at the parade, and then before we talked. Sometimes you get a version of it at the Center when it’s time to say goodbye, or when our tasks take us different directions for the day. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a pretty persistent expression.”

“I’m not a fan of being parted from you,” Killian admitted and Emma looked at him with a softness in his eyes that spoke to understanding.

“That makes two of us. But luckily we’ve still got time, right?”

We have forever, he thought to himself but he bit the words back as he nodded and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

From there they managed to create Emma’s favorite summer sweet, and he had to admit that it was delicious, especially when he tasted it on Emma every time he stole a kiss. It was decadent but simple, and though s’mores were not a custom here in Montenarro, he felt young again. Like a kid in the summer months. It was peaceful and rejuvenating, and he wanted to extend that as much as he could.

“What are your thoughts on stargazing, love?” he asked, and Emma looked surprised before casting her eyes above.

“I haven’t had much chance to do it, honestly. We’ve always been city people so the light makes it hard to see. But out here… wow, I didn’t realize just how much you can see.”

“This is nothing,” he said, standing up and tugging at her hand. “Here, let me show you.”

As they left the stone walkway, Killian grabbed a nearby lantern, lighting the flame so they’d have enough light to guide their way. With languid steps the two of them walked from the fireside down a path in the back greenery. It was dimly lit with tiny lights along the path on the ground, but by now the sun had long since set and the night was out around them. Only the pale yellow glow of their lantern cast anything substantial enough to help them see. Emma held his hand tightly, and he checked to make sure she was comfortable. Her expression, even in the dim light, told him everything he needed to know. She was excited for this, and unbothered by the darkness they needed to get through to see the sea of stars.

Soon enough they came upon the back villa, a structure meant to house any guests, which had long been dormant. Since Killian was not here, he’d had no visitors, but someday he hoped that would change. What the house did boast, however, was something essential for stargazing, and he was glad he’d had the foresight to pull it out before Emma’s arrival.

“Wow,” Emma said when their seating area came into view. “That’s some telescope.”

“One thing you’ll learn about my brother is he does nothing by half. I mentioned the stars once when home for a deployment and the next day this was in my rooms. I had no real need of it at the palace, so I had it brought here. Needless to say, it’s a bit more powerful than anything I might have expected.”

“Henry would love this,” Emma said and Killian warmed at the mention of her son. Her boy was special to be sure, and even though he’d only met him yesterday, he knew Emma was right. Henry would take great joy in learning about something like this, and Killian felt a strong need to be the one to teach him how.

“He’s welcome any time, love. You and he both. You know that.”

Emma nodded, running her fingertips across the telescope thoughtfully. Killian knew she was thinking of that possibility, and he saw no signs of discomfort on her face. She just appeared to be thinking about what that might be like and what it would mean to bring her son to this place. Eventually Emma looked at him again, and when she did there was a light in her green eyes not provided by the lantern or the nearly full moon. It was something else, something warm and wonderful. A moment passed where there was so much left unsaid, but then she smiled and asked him to show her what to do. He was eager to do so, finding with relative ease all the big constellations and visible planets on this clear, summer’s night.

“Which constellation means the most to you?” Emma asked. He noticed that she hadn’t asked which one was his favorite. She had purposefully worded her query with the intention of understanding him. Tonight they both wanted to learn as much as they could about each other. It had been a theme throughout dinner and beyond, and for the first time he felt able to give that openness to someone. She may not realize how much this particular question meant, but he wanted to share it all the same.

“Aquila,” he replied, aiming the telescope to where it should be in the inky night sky. It took a few moments, but he found it sure enough, and he passed the scope to Emma with careful fingers so as not to move the lens. She took it in, looking at the stars, some brighter than others. She wouldn’t be able to see the design, or the lines that star maps always filled in, but that wasn’t important. It was the story behind this choice that mattered.

“It’s beautiful,” Emma said quietly. “What does it mean to you?”

“Aquila is the eagle constellation, part of the Herculean star systems. You can see the wings up top, and the bulk of the body below,” Emma nodded, her eyes staying trained in the telescope, giving him a bit more time to rein in his feelings before carrying on. “Aquila has long been associated with warriors, and so being in the navy, that connection always drew some attention. But it’s not the only fighting symbol. It’s not the strongest or most dominant. Most people who know of stars appreciate the constellation, yet cite others as more impressive or important.”

“But not you,” Emma said, looking back at him and coming to sit beside him on the outside lounger. Her hand came back to his and she gave a soft squeeze, pushing him forward.

“My affinity for this particular constellation has to do with the number in the grouping itself. There are ten stars in the assemblage.” He took a steadying breath and said the rest. “The same amount of sailors I’ve lost on my watch.”

Killian took another pause, steadying himself as the faces of those soldiers graced his memory. Despite the effects of time, he remembered each one of them, and sadly he vividly recalled their passings too. None had been easy losses, almost all had been in active combat, and most never had real resolutions. The killers got away, or were untraceable. There was no avenging these fallen brothers and sisters, there was only forward motion. Survival dictated they all carry on, but Killian’s heart required that he carry the fallen with him. He would not let them be forgotten. Indeed, the smallest thing he could do was see them in the stars each night.

“On a ship or on deployment, there are lots of open spaces. The night sky is a constant. Clouds may come, and so does fighting, but if you live through the day, the stars remain. They teach all sailors in the royal navy about the stars. Navigating by them might not be necessary anymore, but it’s a skill we’re expected to harness. The stars were also familiar. I had gazed upon them as a boy, not so unlike tonight. Liam and I used to enjoy such things, in the summer especially. For a long time, when I saw the stars, I thought of home. I thought of my family, and I took strength from that.

“But as much as the stars were a comfort, they were also witness to some of the worst moments of my life. When I experienced real fear and real loss in the field the first time, it was dark out, the peak of night, where stars are brightest. We were ambushed, a number of us were wounded, and we lost a life. Lieutenant Smee was nearly finished with the service. He had three weeks left, but death doesn’t respect such things.”

As he remembered that first lost, Killian still felt the weight of that realization. He’d known going into the service that risk was a part of things, but it made it all so much more real to have someone die in front of him. At that time he couldn’t understand why things happened that way, and he’d felt completely unmoored from any concept of a higher power. If endings were arbitrary and life came crashing down so unexpectedly all the time, what did that mean for the rest of them? What were they fighting for? And was any of it worth it?

“The next night I couldn’t sleep. I felt too much guilt,” he explained, looking down at Emma’s hands on him and using that as a lifeline in these murky feelings from his past.  “We were sleeping and a man was dead, a family was broken, a dream was erased. I looked at the stars all night. This time I felt my ties back home and I also saw the scars I was forming. But even still, every night thereafter I looked at them. Loss came at any time, under the night sky, in a rainstorm, or in the blazing sun. Every time it did, I added a face to see. Soon I had enough to merit picking a specific group. At one time I prayed I would never come to need Aquila, and when I did need it, I prayed to never need another. Ten souls lost was ten too many.”

By now Emma was wrapped up beside him, her embrace having grown more supportive as he continued on, and despite the weight of the memories, he didn’t feel overwhelmed. There wasn’t darkness in full. It was like the sky tonight. There was deep, obscure patches, but light overall. That’s what Emma did for him. She lit him up and made his world so much brighter in the process. It also helped that as he continued on, telling stories of the people he’d lost she never flinched. She sat there calmly, attentively, and supportively. She held him, and when he felt he could say no more tonight she looked at him, with unshed tears and true affection that helped him feel like everything might be okay.

“That was the first time you’ve told anyone any of this, wasn’t it?” he nodded. She curled up closer to him, quietly telling him that she knew how much that meant.

“Aye, but it won’t be the last. I’ve made arrangements to meet with a naval counselor. I never intended to, but today I made the call.”

“What changed your mind?” she asked, clearly glad for his choice but holding off on her opinion.

“You,” he said honestly. “I would really like the chance to be in your life, Emma. You and Henry both. I hope I’ve made that clear by now, but I need to know for myself that I can give you everything I want safely. I still have nightmares and bad moments. I have scars as you now realize, and I want to understand them so I can be better for you, and for me.”

“You’re already more than enough, Killian.” Again she cupped his face, looking at him with what could only be described as love. Whether it was said or unsaid, Killian knew that Emma loved him, and that she was proud of him, despite everything he’d seen and done. It humbled him to feel that, and he knew he could never go another day without it. She was everything and so much more. “As someone who has needed help for my own demons though, I know how good sharing your stories will be. I used to be so afraid about being enough for Henry, about messing him up because of what I’d been through. I know you know the basics, but the truth is I was in more than a dozen placements in sixteen years, and that kind of constant change and upheaval and rejection takes a toll on a kid.”

Killian could not imagine how anyone could meet Emma and not want to keep her. To think of all the places that she’d landed that didn’t fight for her, that didn’t realize what a good and honest person she was made him sick. He knew she’d been through agony as a child, but he never imagined it could be so bleak.

“When I finally split, I still couldn’t find roots, no matter how hard I tried. I was desperate for them. I had no money and nowhere to go. I just… wandered. I’d have given anything for a family or even just friends, but I didn’t trust anyone enough to really let them in. I just needed to survive, and I couldn’t get to a stable enough place to feel like I could take a breath, never mind live a real life. Neal was the first person who helped me, and I made an exception for him. I let him past my walls, and I trusted in him.”

It wasn’t easy to hear Emma speak of a past love, but the look in her eyes told him there was no lingering emotion for this man he knew was Henry’s father. She may have loved him at one time, but that love was now gone. There wasn’t anger or hurt either, there was just calm, like she’d already made peace with every part of this sad story.  

“It was good between us for a while, and I was young and I wanted to love and be loved. As soon as I let him in, that was it. He had my loyalty and my heart. I’d have done anything for him. I thought he could be that connection I was needing, but my desperation clouded my judgment. I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. I knew he wasn’t always on the right side of the law, but he always did right by me. I could see past his choices because he loved me and because he did these things for us. That’s what he always said, ‘I’m doing this for us.’ He also never involved me, and he made me feel protected. The world was a rough place, but we’d make it through. He’d get us through, that’s what he said. By the time I realized what kind of man he really was though, everything had gone wrong. He got caught stealing all sorts of shit, and he ran. Not only did he run, he tried to set me up for what he did to get the heat off of him. I almost went to prison. Not jail, but prison, for grand theft.”

Killian could understand more and more now why she had felt extra sensitive to the differences between them. As a Prince, his life and the lives of his loved ones would be under scrutiny always. She probably worried he would hear this and resent it, but he never could. He was livid at the fact that a man had ever hurt Emma this way, that he’d been coward enough to let her take the fall. But he was stunned at her perseverance. Somehow she’d gotten through that, and he was awed by the strength such growth must take.

“The only reason I was let go and my arrest was never recorded was because a good Samaritan called into the cops and provided my alibi. I had been in the park all day, studying for the last of my tests I needed to pass my GED. She and her dog were out there and the dog got off leash. I helped her wrangle the little guy at the same time as the robbery clear across the city. With her testimony they had nothing on me, and they realized they were going to charge me with something I had nothing to do with. I was let go, but yet again I was left with nothing. I had to start over again and it was so hard to do. Then a few months later I realized I was pregnant with Henry. I was so scared. I really didn’t think I could do it, but my state sponsored counselor ended up being a great help. She got me on the road to making things better, and she helped me see the circumstances of my life were out of my control. She said something I thought was unique, but it’s something I hear Anna say to the kids all the time at the center.”

“All you can do is the next right thing,” Killian echoed, and Emma nodded.

“I don’t think I always get it right, but I try to, and looking back I can honestly say that I’m proud of the last ten years. It wasn’t always easy, but we are here and here is…” Emma’s face colored with a soft, thoughtful smile and he could tell that she was thinking of her boy and how their life together was. Killian couldn’t help but feel tremendous pride in Emma and awe at all she had done. She was truly a survivor, and it was clear that the choices she’d made since then had all been guided by a want to do right by herself and by her son.

“Here is…?” Killian hedged, wanting to hear her put it into words. Now her eyes met his and they flickered, turning warm and sultry.

“Here is proving to be better and better, in no small part because of you.”

It was difficult to tell which of them started the kiss they shared then, but Killian savored every moment of it. They were out there together, under the stars and enjoying the quiet peace here away from the world. He wanted to get lost in it, to hold Emma tight from this point on and never have to pull back. Before their evening began he’d already envisioned his future lay with Emma, but now he could see it all here. The two of them together, choosing each other, building a life. Henry was here, and maybe someday other children. He’d be with his family, but they’d live on their own. He didn’t know how, but he felt that he could. He could craft a story for them here, and he just prayed that Emma felt inclined to do the same. Her actions tonight stoked that hope, and the taste of her kiss and the feel of her hands on him revived anything that he’d lost in his recent journey back through the past. Soon enough he was restored, feeling better than he ever had, and content that after so long he truly had found everything that he wanted.

“I wish this night never had to end,” Emma said wistfully some time later. Her lips swollen from their interlude and her golden hair bearing a slightly different shape from where his fingers had twined through. She was more beautiful than ever, here under the moonlight and in the lantern’s golden glow. And though they’d done nothing more than typical first date customs would allow, Killian would never know. He’d never felt so satisfied, and he shuttered to think of what he’d feel when they truly came together.

“I feel the same, love, but I promise – ehrm rather, I hope – that it won’t be the last.”

He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous as to assume she’d want another date with him. Of course he felt her desire and her want to be with him, but this situation was different than most other couples giving things a try. Perhaps she would realize she didn’t actually want to date a prince, undeniable attraction be damned. But God if she ended this then –

Before his thoughts could spiral, Emma pulled him for another searing kiss, one that left no room for outside worries or despair. There was only Emma, and god she was a wonder. He was dizzy from her by the time they broke apart, and his heart lurched at the seductive smile she tossed his way.

“Any chance you’re free on Tuesday?” Emma asked, filling his heart with relief before adding an even sweeter sensation directly thereafter. “Henry’s going straight from camp to dinner at a friend’s house but he’ll back for dessert. We’re having…” she trailed off and blushed and now Killian was too curious to be polite.

“What is it love?”

“Apple pie and ice cream.”

“How endearingly American.”

“I swear we’re doing our best to immerse ourselves, but sometimes the heart wants what the heart wants,” she said with a shrug and he chuckled, running his hand along her cheek and watching her green eyes darken with the immediate interest that flared once more.

“I can think of nothing I’d like more than to see you and Henry again, love. Dessert sounds divine, whatever is on the menu”

“And dinner?” she asked, licking her lips and making him want another taste even though he’d had one just moments ago.

“If you’ll place your trust in me, I have just the spot in mind. It’s in the city, and we’ll be assured of total privacy.”

“Perfect,” she whispered, leaning into him as they stood and as he took her hand, leading her down the outdoor path once more.

And though it hurt to say goodbye when he drove her back home, so much so that Killian couldn’t bear to say the words, opting instead for a ‘See you soon, Swan’ and a final stolen kiss, he was comforted in knowing that this night was not the end. Instead, it was a beautiful beginning, one his instincts told him would lead him to the best moments of his life for now and always.

Post-Note: So there we have it – another CS first date in the books. I hope that you have enjoyed this chapter. For me it was a real relief to write this, both because I wanted to get to this moment, but also because I crafted it in the midst of a maddeningly busy part of my program. The good news is I have moved to my final stage and successfully passed, so I’ll soon be out of the thick of my crazy time consuming studies. Still, I may be sporadically posting for a little bit as I settle into my new normal post-school. All that being said, this chapter helped me destress and surround myself in fluff, even while dealing with some harder issues in Emma and Killian’s pasts. Please rest assured that Emma and Killian move forward from this moment with nothing but hope and good vibes. My plan for this fic has always been about 12 chapters, and I think I will land right there when all is said and done, and I promise to get back to this fic as soon as I can. In the meantime, I appreciate all of you so much for your continued support and kind words. They mean so much to me and I carry them always. Thanks again and hope you have a great rest of your weekend!