#language like she doesn’t care about buying things for herself but she’ll easily break the bank for her friends

[sage-lights]

never gonna get over ang wanting to get amanda a bouquet of lipgloss because of how much she loves wearing them

[literateish]

dating emily prentiss

emily prentiss x reader

headcanons about dating emily prentiss using this fluff alphabet prompt list

A = AFFECTION (how affectionate are they? how do they show emotion?)

emily is great at small, frequent gestures of affection rather than large displays of affection. she’s constantly reminding you that you’re beautiful and that she loves you. sometimes you’ll find little notes and gifts from her left around your home.

B = BEST FRIEND (what would they be like as a best friend?)

emily’s the life of the party, she’ll never fail to make you laugh and smile. she’ll always make you feel loved and heard and understood, but won’t hesitate to call you out and tell you the brutal truth.

C = CUDDLES (do they like to cuddle? how do they cuddle?)

emily loves cuddles! she loves being able to hold you and just feel you close to her.

D = DOMESTIC (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

emily never imagined herself settling down. she’d spent her life travelling and the idea of staying in one place with the same people had never appealed to her, but the idea of having something consistent and permanent in her life was a welcome change. growing up, there had been people to cook and clean for her, so she isn’t able to do anything fancy with food, but she does know the basics.

E = ENDING (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

she’d do it gently but firmly. there’ll be no room for misunderstanding, but she’ll still make sure that you’re okay.

F = FIANCÉE (how do they feel about commitment? how quickly would they like to get married?)

she’s always been independent, never wanting to rely on anyone else, so letting someone else into her life is a big leap but she’s willing to do it for the right person.

G = GENTLE (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

with you, emily is extremely gentle. being in the bau means that she has to be strong and aggressive whilst in the field to protect herself and her team mates, so she likes to be able to take a break from that persona and be calm, relaxed and gentle whilst with you.

H = HUGS (do they like hugs? how often do they hug? what are their hugs like?)

emily loved being hugged by you. whenever she’s having a bad day, a hug from you immediately makes her feel better.

I = I LOVE YOU (how fast do they say the L-word?)

it takes a while. loving someone means vulnerability and emily’s not familiar with that. she’s very careful with the l-word, but when she says it, you know she means it and it holds so much importance.

J = JEALOUSY (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they get jealous?)

she’d get jealous if you’re openly flirting with another person, but she trusts you and knows that you would never do anything to betray her.

K = KISSES (what are their kisses like? where do they kiss you + where do they like to be kissed?)

she loves kissing. forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek as a cute, soft form of affection, but also long, deep kisses until you’re both breathless.

L = LITTLE ONES (how are they around children?)

for a while, emily was uncomfortable around kids, but now she’s great with them. she knows how to talk to children and make them feel safe.

M = MORNING (how are mornings spent with them?)

she’s usually in a rush to get to the bay in time, but on the rare off-days, she’ll make breakfast for you whilst you get to stay in bed.

N = NIGHT (how are nights spent with them?)

emily likes to spend her evenings reading. she loves to curl up on the couch and get lost in her book whilst you rest against her legs.

O = OPEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves? all at once or slowly, over time?)

it’s takes a while for emily to open up. it happens in stages, everyday you’ll learn a little bit more about her. she’s not good at being vulnerable, so when she tells you something, you know it’s a sign of her trust and love for you.

P = PATIENCE (how easily angered are they?)

she’s good at staying calm. of course she gets annoyed at little things occasionally, but it’s rare for her to be angry. she’ll only show that anger if someone has dared threaten you and the people she loves.

Q = QUESTION (how much do they remember of you? do they remember every detail, or forget things?)

emily has an incredible memory. she’ll remember everything about you and use that information to make you feel loved - ordering your favourite drink, buying you things in your favourite colour etc.

R = REMEMBER (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

the day you met is her favourite memory. you’ve been on her mind ever since - that day changed her life.

S = SECURITY (how protective are they? do they like being protected?)

emily’s independent. she doesn’t like being in a situation that needs for her to be protected, but she’ll always protect you, no matter what.

T = TRY (how much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

she’ll do anything to make you happy. she won’t do anything too over the top, but would take you out on lots of cute little dates to your favourite places.

U = UGLY (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

biting her nails! whenever she’s anxious or stressed, her nails are the first victims. (this sometimes results in days when your hand is always holding on to hers).

V = VANITY (how concerned are they with their looks?)

emily’s confident with who she is. she has times when she feels insecure about certain parts of her body (she is human), but she’s learned to love herself.

W = WHOLE (would they feel complete without you?)

she would cope. she would learn how to live without you, but she would feel as if a piece of her is missing.

X = XRTA (a random headcanon for them)

emily loves travelling. she wants to be able to visit as many countries as she can in her lifetime to learn as much as possible about the different cultures and languages. (and travelling is even better with you with her).

Y = YUCK (what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

being lied to. trusting anyone is hard for emily, betraying that trust and lying to her is unforgivable.

Z = ZZZ (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

emily is not good at keeping to a sleep schedule. she could stay awake all night reading a book. but with you there, she’ll go to sleep when you do because she loves go to sleep with you in her arms.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Caroline Mulford

(My ugly gif)(Requested by @foulobjectdelusion )

- Caroline is the most popular girl in school who’s dating the most popular boy in school, everyone knows who she is, you included. But you’re practically invisible to people like her. You aren’t popular, you aren’t in their circle, the most you’ll get is a friendly wave/nod or an obligatory partnering for a project.

- That doesn’t stop you from having a crush on her ...like practically everyone else in the school. Yeah, you’ve been pining for the pretty blonde since your freshman year, but it isn’t really your fault is it? You could hardly even have a conversation with her, let alone admit you have a Sapphic crush on her. All you can do is pine.

- That all changes after one very special summer. You’d gone on a trip, gotten a bit more fashionable clothing, learned how to properly do your makeup and changed your hair; you’d even had a short fling and felt what it was like to be in a relationship. You were a new woman and it didn’t take long for people to notice.

- One of the popular boys invited you to join him and his friend group at their usual hangout spot, and you, feeling like you were in some sort of teen movie, obviously agreed. That was where she approached you.

- That's right: She approached you. Granted, she didn’t know who you were and actually started your conversation with a “You must be new! I’m Caroline.” as if you’d transferred schools but you didn’t correct her and more or less kept up the façade. You supposed you’d be a new woman in more ways than one.

- Though you did keep just about every other aspect of your life the same, you just let them think you hadn’t attended the school until now. Hey, if they didn’t recognize you that was their fault, right?

- Caroline liked you almost immediately though it was purely platonic. You were surprised to see just how sweet she was, even though you’d heard rumors and seen it for yourself on occasion. The two of you became friends that afternoon and you found yourself thrust into a life of popularity. One you only could have dreamed of until now.

- Now you’re being invited to parties and sitting at the popular table and going to the mall with Caroline; who you’re still practically obsessed with, and your life is practically perfect. You feel like you’re at the top of the world ...but then, you see her kiss Jake and you can feel yourself falling.

- You’d never realized how draining it would be to be up close. It was almost better to be far away from her, at least then you couldn’t be able to see the love shining in her eyes when she looked at him.

- Hell, you now babysat her brother while she went on dates with the boy.

- It was almost humorous, the duality of your popularity; everything could be so good and yet so bad at the same time.

- Finally, everything changed after one of Jakes; or rather her, parties. She’d gotten absolutely plastered; as per usual, and you were the only one sober enough to make sure she didn’t die during the night.

- So there you were, trying to pull drinks out of her hand and guiding her to a couch as she pawed all over you and her surroundings, giggling and stumbling the entire way there.

- Pretty much everyone had left the boys house, leaving a mess in their wake. All except you, who’d been waiting to see if Jake was going to deal with the girl before you drove yourself home.

- As the two of you sat, she sighed and laid her head in your lap, gushing about how much she cared about and loved you. You sighed and told her you cared about her too, brushing the hair from your face exasperatedly.

“No, not like that. I love, love, loveeee you.” She insisted.

- You thought nothing of it, giving her a “yep, yeah I know.” before you felt her hands on your face. Before you knew it, she’d pulled your face down and pressed her lips to yours, causing you to freeze in place.

- You quickly pulled away and shifted her out of your lap, telling her that you needed to get her home and that she was drunk. Fuck Jake. You’d deal with her this time whether he liked it or not.

- So you heaved her up and got her in your car, getting ready to drive her home before she nearly made you crash said car and insisted that you pull over. She was lucid for all of five minutes before she wound up passed out in your backseat with you. You soon followed suit and fell asleep clutching your keys and jacket.

- When you woke up in the morning, the two of you had a nice, awkward talk about what happened and she admitted that she had feelings for you and you for her. You told her that if anything was gonna happen, she’d have to break up with Jake which she agreed to.

- The two of you had your first date later that day. You went to a nice Waffle House to help with her wicked hangover and when you got back inside your car, she leaned over and gave you a real kiss to make up for the one she’d drunkenly stolen the night prior.

- And just like that, things were messily made perfect.

- Most people just think that you’re close friends so the two of you can get away with some pda; though you obviously aren’t really able to kiss in public. Regardless, even if she can’t show people that you’re a couple, she’s going to make it obvious; in one way or another, that you’re off limits. 

- Long hugs. 

- Handholding or your arm around her shoulders and her arm around your waist; or vice versa depending on your height. 

- Corner of the mouth kisses. 

- Deep, soft kisses. 

- Slow makeouts. 

- Hair petting. It’s a habit of hers. 

- There’s quite a bit of snuggling in your relationship. She likes laying her head on your shoulder or chest whenever you do, tracing patterns on your shirt while you wrap your arms around her.

- As we all know, Caroline's little brother is deaf so one can assume that she’s a bit attention starved at home. So, on that note, she always wants to be the center of your attention. God forbid you have homework to do; she’ll bother you until you take a break and give her what she wants.

- She usually just calls you some cutesy form of your given name or honey, maybe hun or babe when you’re out in public since girls can call their friends those. 

- Her parents don’t seem to be uptight in the slightest so you’re usually allowed to stay out for a long time and pretty much do whatever you want.

- Going to parties.

- Taking care of her at parties.

- Staying up until the early morning and watching the sunrise, usually while you’re both a little tipsy.

- Picnics.

- Beach dates.

- Almost always walking to class together. You’ll usually end up carrying her books because she’s a bit of a princess.

- Copying each others school and homework. If you can’t cheat off your partner, are you even dating?

- Taking photos together and of each other. She’ll take offense if you don’t have a picture of her framed on your nightstand.

- Please give her gifts; she loves them so much. You’ll never see her smile wider.

- Her asking you to get her things. She’s the girlfriend who calls you over just to ask you to go and grab her something from somewhere; usually with a cutesy little smile and a please.

- She wouldn’t be caught dead riding the bus and she sort of hates to drive so you usually end up driving her wherever she wants; or at least to and from school.

- Honestly talking about which movie stars you think are hot and would be obligated to marry if they asked.

- Going to the mall. It’s her favorite place.

- Helping her zip herself into dresses or pick things out when the two of you go shopping. She always asks you a million questions before she actually buys something.

- Popularity is pretty important to her so she’ll want the two of you to look your best when you’re out together. If you’re less stylish than her, she’s gonna wanna make you over.

- Doing each other’s nails.

- Laughing and cursing at each other as you do beauty rituals. You always have a lot of fun when you’re putting on face masks or cutting each other’s hair, etc.

- She pretty much lives at your house at this point. She comes over nearly everyday and spends more time in your room than her own.

- She becomes a part of your family whether or not your parents know that the two of you are dating. They either accept her as your girlfriend or just assume that you’re really close friends. The same goes for her family.

- I feel like she has the type of family that packs everyone up and takes them camping at least once a year so ...wanna go camping with her?

- Festive holidays. Her family probably goes skiing every winter and are really into the holidays and you; being her best friend tm, are always invited to join them.

- Staying over while she babysits her little brother. The little dude likes you a lot.

- It’s pretty funny to watch her go from her popular, cutesy teenage girl self to a mature, protective woman when she’s with her little brother. She’ll be batting her eyelashes at you one minute and doing sign language and/or watching her little brother like a hawk the next.

- She’s sort of oblivious when you’re upset and not the most considerate of your feelings but she’s trying to be better.

- That being said, she’s able to be reassuring and comforting when she realizes that she needs to be. She’s even sweeter and smarter than everyone in your school anticipated.

- She’s a bit paranoid when it comes to you and other girls so she’s definitely a pretty jealous person. She’ll usually sit in your lap; when she can, to make it clear that you’re a couple, plastering on a fake smile and greeting the other person like she hadn’t seen them there.

- She’ll later; bluntly, confront you about it, and will take your word for it but she’ll occasionally threaten the fact that she can easily find someone else.

- You’re the one who has to be protective, considering the fact that she tries to kill herself every other weekend.

- The two of you have quite a few short arguments but they’re rarely ever serious. You tend to settle them fairly quickly so you rarely ever have a “we’re in a fight” moment with your mutual friends.

- She usually tries to use cuteness to win you over; if you’re really fighting, or just concedes mid argument and accepts what you’ve said after a bit of convincing. She’ll give a real apology if her cute face doesn’t work but she’d prefer not having to do so.

- She tells you that she loves you fairly often; particularly when she’s drunk.

- She’s pretty fond of talking about the future. She makes it very obvious that’s she’s planning on staying with you for the rest of her life and it always warms your heart to hear it.

[flufflepuffle296]

“Chloe xxx”

I really want Chloé to get another redemption arc, but not because she wants to be Queen Bee again or prove herself to anyone-but because she wants to prove to herself that she can be as awesome as she wants. Also sorry but I rambled here.

I don’t even want it to start because of something big like being rejected or glares from classmates, it could just be she’s chilling in her room and she notices her butler flinching when she calls his name, or she’s watching a show and she wants to be just as cool as the main character, or even just looking around the class and just thinking “why not?”

She then starts calling her butler’s name a little sweeter, takes Sabrina out for coffee at her favourite café this time, pushes Alya’s bag towards her when it falls off the bench. She anonymously donates money to varying charities and doesn’t tell anyone about it. She feels warm when she does it-she doesn’t know why but it almost feels kind of nice. She begins working a shift or two here and there at the hotel. She smiles at Mylene when she walks in (even if she considers that outfit a crime against fashion), and returns pens when she borrows them. Nino loses a USB and Chloé helps in the search party for it (though does it secretly at break and lunch).

Becoming nice to Marinette is harder though. She decides however, that if she wants to be an ok person, she has to give everyone a chance, so buys a yard or two of a nice fabric the girl’s been eyeing for weeks, and posts it with a note signed “-C xxx”. It kind of feels a little nice when Marinette walks in in a pale pink beaded dress that isn’t totally horrible Chloé supposes.

She later realises that saying sorry is another thing she can do to become a better person, and she always kind of wanted to but was too prideful to do so-but no more! She apologises to butler Jean, saying that she’s sorry for screaming at him, firing him, everything.

She then apologises to Sabrina, for treating her as a slave and asking if she wanted to go to that film she’s been rambling about, since they always go for her choice. She also takes all of her homework back that Sabrina was doing for her, and starts working really hard on it.

She goes to the bakery later that week, and orders a large slice of cake, reasoning that she can’t be nice to others if she’s not being nice to herself, therefore she needs this chocolate cake. She then asks Sabine if she can go up to talk to Marinette, who is rather skeptical of her and only allows her in the dining room. She apologises for bullying her all those years, and hands her an envelope signed “-C xxx”. Marinette opens it, to find it full of cash that’s tied in small bundles with labels on.

“Homework soaked-age 7” €3

“Sketchbook ruined-age 10”. €18

“Teacher’s present destroyed-age 14”. €16

Everything she’s physically destroyed or ruined is accounted for and compensated. She then apologises for all the verbal abuse and mean comments, before asking for a truce. Marinette accepts, and points out that since they have a truce, she is obliged to inform Chloé that she has buttercream on her face.

A week later she gets all her homework back: B+, B, A-, B-, A+.

Not her usual report of full marks, but she’ll take it.

She starts working every night at the hotel, from 6pm till 10pm. She refuses to look it though-she is Chloé Bourgeois after all. Her uniform is spotless, her makeup is now impeccable (blue eyeshadow with pale lips? What was she thinking?), and she never has a hair out of place. She begins living on coffee-these grades aren’t going to raise themselves after all -and constantly has an energy drink in her bottle (not that the class is allowed to know that).

Grades: B+, A-, A, B, A+

Getting better...

Once in class, Rose slammed her head on the table (delicately? She somehow slammed her head DELICATELY?), and weeped that she didn’t understand the material. Chloé scribbled an explanation on a sheet of paper, and after class slipped it in Rose’s bag.

The next day, an akuma strikes near the school. They can’t leave because some kids live far away, and Bustier isn’t taking initiative and the class rep is no where to be found. Chloé bites her lip, before standing on the desk and clapping her hands. Once she has the class’ attention, she gives out instructions.

“KIM, IVAN! Grab heavy objects and block the doors. JULEKA, NINO, NATHANAEL! You can lock the windows since you’re the tallest. EVERYONE ELSE! Clear books away and any other things that could cause bruising if knocked over, put bags away, and hide under the desks and benches!”

Everyone stares at her.

“NOW!”

Everyone scrambled to their duties, before hiding under the desks, holding their heads like Chloé instructed.

Grades: A, A-, A+, B+, A+

Nearly there...

She informs her father that she’ll be leaving for a week next month, and tells Bustier and Damocles. She books a plane ticket to New York with her money from working, as well as a hotel room. She packs her bags and leaves, giving her dad a kiss and a hug beforehand and promising that she’ll be safe. She boards her plane and then hauls her bags up to her room, before making a call.

“Who is this?”

“Your daughter, Chloé.”

“I DON’T-oh you. Why have you called me I’m in the middle of working-shouldn’t you be at pre-K?”

“I’m 15 and French ma-but anyway, is it possible if you could promote Marinette’s website-MDC-in return I’ll work for you for free.”

“Oh yes Marinette-the exceptional one. How long will you work?”

“I’m only here a week-I’ll become your assistant even! I know you hate Stephanie.”

“...Fine. I’ll drop her into conversation at an interview if you’re only here a week. Now do not call me unless it’s an emergency. You start tomorrow-8am, sharp, in a fashionable outfit-or you’re fired.”

Chloé smiles as the line goes dead. Her mother may be a dragon, but Chloé can respect that she helps those she cares about.

Even if it isn’t her...

The next day she arrives at the office at 7:45, in a white suit with gold jewellery. Audrey nods, before sending her out with rapid instructions for coffee. Chloé takes her order to the café she requested, and starts reading it out to the barister, only for him to pale and interrupt her halfway through.

“Oh God-you’re ordering for Audrey aren’t you? Oh Lord-HEY AARON! STYLE QUEEN ORDER NO. 37! QUICK!”

The other worker, Aaron, goes white, before flipping every machine on and opening every can he can find in preparation.

“You must be her new assistant-good luck with her, the last one would come in to order her coffee and then sit in the corner and cry so much we set up her own space-look!” The first one says, pointing out to a comfy area of bean bags and pillows.

Chloé cringed. “Nah, worse. I’m her daughter, if you can even call me that, that’s interning for her in exchange for a favour.”

The barister pitied her. “Yikes.”

Chloé takes the coffee being thrusted at her and nods at the two, before sprinting back to the office.

After that week of hell, she still refuses to wear anything other than heels and designer clothes, and her hotel room is immaculate. She packs the night before, and sets off back to Paris in the morning.

MDC takes off after the Style Queen reccommended it briefly in an interview, and Chloé starts helping Marinette manage and organise commission dates and social media, eventually becoming her PR person/caffeination.

She starts working not only her 6pm-10pm shifts, but also a few shifts from 4am-7am a few times a week. She does her homework at lunch and as soon as she gets back from school, even doing it during akuma attacks. She gets through a concealer a week for her bags, and sleeps all weekend.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+.

Perfect.

...Or not...

She realises that she can’t maintain this. She can’t survive on 3 hours sleep and an unholy amount of caffeine. She cuts back on her shifts, doing 4 a week at most, and only does homework for a maximum of 2 hours a day. She starts, meditation and yoga, trying to keep her mind peaceful. She still donates to charities, and goes out with Sabrina and shops.

Grades: A, A, A, A, A.

Still pretty good, and she’s happy this time!

She begins doing things more for herself. She’s always wanted to learn Spanish after all. She hires a tutor, and starts working extremely hard to become as fluent as possible by the end of her education.

She learns conversational Spanish in about 6 months of semi-intensive learning, and decides to do something else as well. She starts learning Mandarin with Marinette, and struggles slightly more than she did with Spanish, but she’s still progressing.

She realises that she has a knack for learning languages, and picks more up more easily after she starts learning Spanish, Mandarin and later Portuguese.

One day when she’s out she comes across a homeless man, and offers him some money and brings him a hot meal. She sees others around him in the same situation, and does the same for them.

She then volunteers at the local soup kitchen, feeding hundreds of people on weekends and washing up afterwards. She connects with the homeless and a few refugees, and starts learning Arabic from one of the regulars, in return slipping her a few Euros (basically she gives her €250 every week).

She takes a shift at the bakery, manning the counter and becoming fast friends with Marinette as they practise their Mandarin on one another.

Grades: A+, A+, A+, A+, A+

AND SHE’S HAPPY!!!

She eventually starts applying for universities, listing her abilities and experiences.

• A+ Student

• Volunteer

• Interned for Audrey Bourgeois

• Works at Boulangerie Patisserie

• Works at Le Grand Paris

• Fluent in Spanish, English and Mandarin, knows conversational Arabic and Portuguese, learning Polish.

The more she writes and thinks about the past 4 years, the more she comes to the realisation of

“Holy shit, I’m awesome. I’m an ok person. I’m a good person in fact. I’ve done good things. I’ve made a good impact on society. I did it. I DID IT!!! And I’m going to keep doing it-after all, I’m awesome and people rely on me, plus it makes me feel good. I’m no longer a spoilt 14 year old. I can be good. I am good. I am a good person.”

[hookedonapirate]

Summary: The Jones brothers are polar opposites. Liam's the safe and honorable one, straight-laced and straight as an arrow. The good son.

Killian's the dangerous one, the bad boy with tats, leather jackets, a motorcycle and a questionable past.

The only things they have in common are panty-melting sea-blue eyes, the flat they share in Storybrooke and a rare blood type.

Oh, and apparently their taste in women.

Or rather, one woman.

Feisty.

Blonde.

Gorgeous.

Green-eyed Goddess.

Killian saw her first, but she chose his brother—the nice guy over the playboy. And even though she’s dating his brother, it doesn't make him want her any less. If that's not bad enough, she moves in with them and he has to pretend he's not completely in love with her. His life could not get any worse…

Until Liam dies in a tragic motorcycle accident.

Leaving each of them with one half of a broken heart.

Now Killian and Emma are left helping each other pick up the pieces.

Just as they're beginning to learn how to live in their new reality, another riptide pulls them further into the deep end when she finds out she's pregnant with Liam's baby.

Notes: So I made this post on Tumblr the other day, and then this fic happened. If you haven't seen the tags, please read them before starting this story or becoming invested because it’s very angsty. First of all, this starts out as Swan Jewel? I don't know what their ship name is or if there is an official name, but yes, Liam and Emma are in a relationship in the beginning, and I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. If you're not comfortable with that, I highly encourage you to hit the back button.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​ for looking it over!

This story was inspired by Baby Mine by Kennedy Fox, and I loved the book so much and thought it was very much underrated. I’ve wanted to write a fic like this for a long time now because it’s one of my favorite tropes, but after I read that book, I just had to write my own take. Also, I made this post about a Baby Yodarita drink last year when it was trending and since the beginning of this story starts one year prior, 2019 and since Killian is a bartender, it was a perfect way to include the prompt.

The title comes from the lyrics of the song, Lay By Me by Ruben. The particular line goes like this:

"I hope you know through the rising tide That I'll be here and you can lay by my side"

If you've never heard it, I recommend giving it a listen. It's an amazing song and very fitting for this story.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VFJbLzEtoZw

P.S. In case you're unable to read the shoulder tattoo in the picture above and are wondering what it says—

"There is no happiness without tears

No life without death

And no true love without heartbreak"

Rated: Explicit for smut (including sexual fantasies, masturbation, implied and detailed sex, etc.) and language (lots of F-bombs).

Also available on: AO3 FF.N

Chapter 1

“Late again?” Liam chides when Ruby waltzes into work as if everything is completely normal. As if she’s not an hour late for her shift. 

  For the third time that week.

  She gives him an apologetic smile, but Killian knows she’s not actually sorry. 

  He’s just wondering who she was with this time.

  “Won't happen again, boss.”

  “Damn right it won’t. This is your third warning. Next time, there will be a write-up,” he admonishes.

  Frustration creases her forehead. “Geez, would you just chill? My car broke down.”

  Liam crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at her. “So, you mean to tell me your car has broken down three times this week?” he asks, holding up three fingers. “And on either of these occasions, you couldn’t pick up the phone and give me a heads up? Did your phone break, too?”

  She flashes him a look as though the answer to his question is obvious. “I told you my car’s a piece of junk. And I tried to call, but no one answered.”

  Killian fights off a laugh, knowing for a fact Ruby is bluffing. At least about calling tonight, since the phone hadn’t rung in the past hour. But he could easily check to see if she’d called on the other two days on the bar phone’s caller i.d. to find out for sure if he really wanted to. 

   “So get a new car. Don’t you make enough from your tips and the hourly wage I pay you?”

  “I make enough from my tips,” she replies with a sarcastic smirk, “but I have more important things to buy.”

  Liam rolls his eyes. “Like what? More six-inch heels, low-cut tops and short skirts?”

  Ruby lets out an exasperated sigh. “How do you think I get good tips—by dressing like a Catholic schoolgirl?” She twists her lips and presses the back of her long, red-painted fingernail to her chin, pondering her own words for a second. “On second thought, that actually might bring in even more tips. Besides, you should be paying for my work clothes. Maybe then I could afford a new car.”

  Liam scoffs. “You want me to pay for your outfits?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Ruby's eyes widen, as though she’s shocked he declined her request. “Why not? Can’t you claim them as a work expense?”

  He nods. “Alright, fine. But if I’m paying for your work attire, then I’m choosing what you wear. Sound good to you?” he asks, knowing damn well she’ll never go for it.

  Unsurprisingly, she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. I ain’t wearing no damn polo shirt and black slacks. I like my low-cut tops and short skirts, thank you very much.”

  Liam sighs and cups his forehead in his hand to indicate she’s giving him a headache as he turns around and walks toward his office. “Just get to work, Ruby.”

  She wraps her apron around her waist and mimics his words in a mocking tone, “Just get to work, Ruby.”

  “I heard that!” Liam hollers.

  “I could be already serving customers if it weren’t for my pain in the ass boss riding me every two goddamn seconds!” she shouts, hoping he heard that too.

  Killian chuckles to himself as he rings up a customer for his drinks and hands him the change.

  “That dude seriously needs to get laid,” Ruby huffs. “Maybe then he’d back off a little.”

  “Ha! I doubt it,” Killian comments before taking another drink order.

  Ruby heads to the dining area to wait on customers. She knows Killian’s not wrong to doubt Liam’s ability to show a little mercy. He’s worked for his brother for two years, longer than anyone has ever been able to stand working for him, and he’s never once seen Liam be lenient, not even to his own brother. He runs a tight ship, and Killian doesn’t see that ever changing. Liam has owned this bar for five years and takes his job very seriously. 

  Killian’s just glad he only has to work here for another six months. Or at least that’s the plan. He’s about to graduate from Storybrooke University and get his degree in engineering. As much as he enjoys working for his brother, or rather listening to his coworkers complain about his brother behind Liam’s back, he doesn’t plan on spending his entire life making drinks.

  Liam emerges from his office an hour later and announces he has to take off for a while to run some errands. Killian’s confused because this is Liam’s night to manage the bar. He dedicates the majority of his other time performing administrative tasks during the week.

  “What errands do you have to run on a Friday night?” Killian asks, his words laced with suspicion.

  “Just some errands I promised someone I’d take care of. You’re in charge while I’m gone.” He pulls on his jacket and leaves Killian behind the bar with a confused expression on his face, wondering what his brother is up to. 

  Killian brushes off the thought, deciding to further question him later.

  Liam heads out the door, but not before scolding Ruby for sitting down at a table full of rowdy men, chatting (and not about the menu). She may be into women, but she flirts with customers regardless of their gender for the tips. 

  Ruby curses under her breath and gets up, moving to her next table to jot down orders.

  ~*~

  Emma sighs as Mary Margaret grabs her hand and pulls her into The Captain's Rum. Or more like, drags her in kicking and screaming. She doesn’t wish to be at this bar any more than she wanted to be at the last two. But her sister-in-law insists on the outlandish idea Emma’s going to find Mr. Perfect tonight. Or somehow get over her asshole of an ex-boyfriend after one night of drinking.

  And even though it's been two months since she left Neal and his thieving and cheating ass, and as much as she wants to get over him, Emma knows it’s not gonna happen for a while. At least not tonight.

  And yet, here she is.

  One night of drinking can’t hurt, she supposes. One night of forgetting everything. Of numbing her pain. Or so she keeps telling herself, but that could be the alcohol she’s already imbibed at the other two bars speaking.

  “So, how’s it going tonight, Rubes?” Mary Margaret asks the cocktail server once they’re seated at a booth. 

  Apparently, they know each other.

  “Well, no one's tried to manhandle me yet, so it's a start.” The tall brunette with red streaks in her hair leans over the table and murmurs, “Not a great start, but it's a start.”

  Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and laughs as she gestures at Emma. “Rubes, this is my sister-in-law, Emma. She just moved here from New York.”

  Looking at Emma, Ruby grins and sticks out her hand. “Hi! Nice to meet you!”

  Emma gives her a polite smile and shakes her hand. “Likewise.”

  When Ruby brings the chips and cheese Mary Margaret ordered, she places them on the table along with two empty plates. Before arriving here, Mary Margaret decided they would put some food in their bellies before they added more alcohol so they wouldn't get too drunk too fast and have to head home early. Well, that was Mary Margaret’s idea at least. Emma would much rather be home in the comfort of her bedroom watching Netflix. Or rather, her brother’s and sister-in-law's guestroom they so graciously let her sleep in until she gets her own place. 

  “Enjoy, ladies.”

  “Sure will,” Mary Margaret beams as Ruby leaves their table. She sips on some water as she scans the bar. Probably for potential suitors she can hook her sister-in-law up with, Emma surmises. “What about him? He's cute,” Mary Margaret remarks, her eyes trained on someone behind her. 

  Emma looks over her shoulder and arches a brow. “He’s cute if you’re sixteen. He looks way too young.”

  “Well, he’s drinking, so he must be at least twenty-one,” Mary Margaret points out.

  “He looks sixteen, and sorry, I don’t date children.”

  “Emma, he’s not a child, probably a college student. And you act like you’re so old just because you already graduated. You’re twenty-two,” Mary Margaret points out like she’s jealous and wishes to be so young again. But she's only a few years older—the same age as David.

  Emma groans. “No, thanks.” Her last boyfriend was immature enough as it was, and he was ten years her senior. “So, tell me, how are you and my brother getting along?” Emma asks, attempting to change the subject and get her sister-in-law to avert her attention from the college boys across the room. “Sick of each other yet?”

  Mary Margaret whips her head around and scowls. “Of course not. Why would you ask such a thing?”

  Emma laughs and raises her hands in defense. “Because I knew it was the only thing that would get your attention.”

  Guilt and apology flicker in Mary Margaret’s eyes. “Sorry, Emma.” She lays her palms on the table. “David and I are just worried about you, that’s all.”

  Emma sighs, frustration creasing her forehead. “I’m fine, I promise. Neal was an ass, and honestly, him cheating on me was a good thing. I needed the wake-up call, okay? I was blinded by love. But now that we're over, I can move on with my life. That’s why I let you talk me into bar hopping.”

  A slow, hopeful smile spreads across her lips. “I know, and I’m so happy you got out of that relationship, Emma. David and I both are.”

  Emma laughs. “I know. When I landed on your door stoop, we both had to stop him from driving all the way to New York to kick Neal's ass.”

  Mary Margaret nods. “True. He’s very protective of you.”

  Emma rolls her eyes. “I know. It’s both a blessing and a curse.” She takes a sip of water as she scans the bar. It’s the first time she’s been to The Captain's Rum, and everyone is so unfamiliar to her. New York is a huge place, especially compared to Storybrooke, but in this bar, it feels like she‘s back in New York. She swears everyone in Storybrooke is here.

  Ruby returns to their table to sit and chat. And steal some of their chips, double-dipping them in the cheese. Emma fights off the urge to laugh at this as her eyes wander past Ruby’s shoulder. 

  Huge mistake.

  The group at the bar counter disperses, revealing the most gorgeous sight she's ever seen.

  Holy. Fucking. Hell. 

  She loses a breath when she sees what she can only describe as a fine specimen. 

  Good Lord.

  Handsome features and such a delicious smile to accompany his perfect face as he chats with a male patron at the bar, she finds herself licking her lips.

  “What about him?” Emma manages when she’s able to find the words in her throat. 

  Mary Margaret’s eyes light up before she even looks to see who Emma is staring so unabashedly at. “Who?!” She and Ruby both turn their heads, their eyes following the path of Emma’s gaze until they land on the target.

  “You mean the bartender?” Mary Margaret asks, though, to Emma’s surprise, she doesn’t seem very excited; more like disappointed.

  Emma tears her gaze away from the bartender, as much as she doesn’t want to. But she couldn’t breathe when she looked at him and she needed to come up for air. “Yeah, why not?” 

  “Why not what?” Ruby asks as she looks at Emma, curiosity flashing in her big hazel eyes. “Because if you’re asking ‘why not jump his bones,’ then I can’t think of one good reason.”

  “Ruby, don’t encourage her,” Mary Margaret chides with a glare.

  Ruby frowns, confusion etched in her features. “Why not?”

  “Because… Killian is a player. Emma just broke up with her player of a boyfriend a couple of months ago. She doesn't need another one in her life.”

  “Um, excuse me, I’m right here,” Emma groans wryly. “And I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions.”

  “She’s not wrong though,” Ruby remarks. “He is a player. But a fucking hot player. Between the two of us, we’ve conquered all the women of Storybrooke.”

  Emma lifts a brow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “Yep. Probably even some of the same women,” she winks, her words bearing no shame or remorse.

  “Ruby, would you stop? Besides, neither of you have conquered me,” Mary Margaret points out with air quotes.

  Ruby rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Prince Charming had already parked his car in your garage long ago.” She reverts her eyes to Emma. “If you’re looking for a relationship, he’s definitely not for you…” she leans over toward Emma, speaking softly, “but if you’re looking for a hookup to get over that cheating ex of yours, then he’s absolutely perfect for that. He’ll give you an orgasm sooooo hard, you’ll forget all about that scumbag. Then he’ll do it over and over again until he knows you won’t be able to walk for weeks.” Ruby grins wide. “Hell, you’ll forget your own fucking name for weeks.”

  Emma gulps, having to recover from the images Ruby implanted in her mind of the man on the other side of the bar. Once she recovers, she furrows her brows at the conclusions she’s drawn from Ruby’s graphic depictions of what a night with the handsome, dark-haired bartender would be like. “How would you know? Have you two—”

  Ruby laughs as though Emma just said the funniest thing she’s ever heard in her life. “Oh Gaaaaawwwwd, no! I don’t swing that way, honey,” she says, rising and waving off Emma’s words with a flick of her hand. “But I’ve seen the number Killian’s done on his conquests. People talk, especially the drunk, horny females who enter the bar. Plus, as I said, he’s my competition, so I have to know what he's working with… if you know what I mean,” she says with a wink.

  “Yeah, I got it,” Emma groans as Ruby saunters away. Why do all the hot guys have to be players? 

  It’s just her luck.

  Emma turns to catch another look at him. 

  God, he’s gorgeous. 

  Dark, wild hair, stubble on his chin and cheeks, and a fantastic body based on what she can see from her vantage point.

  “Emma! Don’t even think about it! That man’s trouble and you know David would never approve,” Mary Margaret explains, pulling Emma from her trance.

  She turns her head, glaring at her sister-in-law. “David is not my father. And besides, I’m a grown-ass woman! He can’t tell me who I can or cannot date.”

  Mary Margaret gives her a motherly look. “I know, sweetie, but this man doesn’t date women, he fucks them and then sends them packing. David only wants to protect you from guys like him.”

  “I don’t need his protection, okay? Or yours. I’m perfectly capable of looking out for myself.” Emma stands from her seat, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol still brewing in her system, or because her sister-law has expressed disapproval from both her and David, making this man seem like a forbidden, sinful dessert she’s dying to get a taste of, even though she’ll pay for it later. But right now she doesn't give a fuck. 

  She sucks in a breath and strides across the bar, ignoring Mary Margaret’s pleas and warnings.

  Her eyes are fixed on him like a magnet. He’s wearing a black v-neck that fits him like a glove and shows off a provocative amount of chest hair, his tight, firm muscles bulging as he wipes down the bar counter. His muscles aren’t inhumanly large, just big enough for her to imagine him picking her up and easily carrying her to his bedroom like she weighs nothing. Emma can feel her panties grow wet just from watching him work. 

  But even though she doesn’t wish to be told who to be with, she knows she should heed her sister-in-law’s warnings.

  What would one night of fun hurt, though? She’s spent too much time holed up in her New York apartment, wallowing in self-pity and heartache after Neal hurt her. She hasn’t been with anyone since then. And maybe she’s not looking to dive into a serious relationship right now. Or ever. Maybe she just wants to blow off some steam. And this man looks like he can handle such a task. She’s more than willing to find out. 

  Emma approaches the bar and stands in front of him, placing her hands on the counter. 

  “What can I get you, lass?”

  Well, fuck me sideways.

  He has a British accent too?

  She knows she should run for her life, but before she can talk herself out of it, he looks up from his task, and she feels like her feet are glued to the floor. 

  Ho-ly hell.

  He’s even more gorgeous up close.

  His arms are inked with tattoos she so badly wants to trace with her fingers, and his striking blue eyes sparkle as he stares at her, his smile showing off a set of pearly white teeth.

  Well shit.

  She couldn’t run away if she wanted to.

  ~*~

  Killian had been running back and forth behind the bar for hours, ringing up bar patrons, making drinks and engaging in small talk. It’s a typical Friday night at The Captain’s Rum; the place is normally busy on the weekends, especially since the bar is only a stone’s throw away from the university, and tonight is no exception. It’s crowded and loud, couples are dancing, and the women are scantily clad in either tiny dresses or short tops and skirts. As he’s grabbing beers and making cocktails, the bar continues to fill and grow louder. 

  He hands off drinks to a couple before moving on to the next customer. 

  “Hey Jones, can I get two Blue Ribbons?” his good mate, Robin, calls over the blaring music. 

  Killian chuckles and grabs the desired beers, popping off the caps before handing them over. “Taking it easy tonight?” he asks, leaning against the counter and gripping the edge of it with both hands.

  “Aye. Regina doesn’t like the hard stuff. She’s more of a wine person.”

  “Ah, I see.” Killian nods; he can definitely see that about Regina. He doesn't want to say this to one of his best mates, but the lass can be a little stuck up and quite bossy at times. She makes Robin happy though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

  He chats with him for a few minutes, finally getting a few minutes of reprieve. As Robin heads back to his girlfriend, Killian takes the opportunity to wipe down the bar top. But before he’s finished, someone approaches the counter. His eyes are still trained on his task, but he can’t miss the long blonde hair, pink lace and fantastic cleavage, seeing as the view is directly in front of him. “What can I get you, lass?” he asks, throwing on his most charming grin as he lifts his head.

  His smile is cemented on his face the second he looks up.

  Killian’s accustomed to seeing pretty women entering his brother’s bar and parading around in clothes that barely cover their essential parts.

  Yet nothing in the world could’ve prepared him for the woman standing in front of him on the other side of the bar counter.

  No, not woman. 

  Goddess.

  Emerald green eyes, soft pink lips curved into a shy smile, smooth creamy skin, long golden hair cascading over her shoulders.

  Good. 

  God.

  She’s breathtaking.

  Stunning.

  “What would you recommend?” she asks in a teasing tone.

  Fuck.

  Her voice is that of an angel’s. Pure and sweet and innocent.

  She looks like everything he doesn’t deserve but wants every... fucking... part of.

  “Uh… I um…” he stutters, scratching nervously behind his ear. He can’t form a cohesive sentence as he looks into those hypnotizing eyes. He wants to get lost in them, drown in them. “What are you… what are you in the mood for, love?” he finally musters, adding another one of his signature grins. “I can make you anything your heart desires.” What he wants to say is, “I can give you anything your heart desires,” but even that may not be true. As gorgeous as she is, he’s afraid he wouldn’t be the man she deserves. He’s never been the guy women like to take home to their parents, anyway. He’s the guy chicks like to have around for a good time before they eventually settle into a serious relationship with Mr. Perfect. He’s definitely no Mr. Perfect, more like a Good Luck Chuck, but at the moment, he feels like he could be fucking Superman for this woman. And he's only exchanged a few words with her so far.

  She arches a brow and it’s literally the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed in his life. “Anything?” He senses a challenge in her tone. 

  “Try me,” he encourages.

  She bites her bottom lip in thought.

  He lied. Now that’s the most adorable and sexiest thing he’s ever witnessed.

  “What if I said I wanted a Baby Yodarita?”

  He arches a brow, very much intrigued. “A Baby Yodarita? Never heard of it.”

  She laughs and the sound is music to his ears. “That's because I made up the name. But I figure it would be a green drink that looks like baby Yoda.”

  “So, I take it you’re a Star Wars fan?”

  “Are you a bartender?” 

  Just as he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, since he’s behind the bar serving drinks, he catches her drift and flashes a smirk.

  Could this woman be any hotter? And yes, as he’s asking this question in his head, he’s picturing Chandler Bing and the way he would say it, emphasizing the word be. Gods, he hates that he knows that about Friends. He hates that he actually likes that show.

  “You don't really have to be a Star Wars fan to be a baby Yoda fan though. He's so cute, he's trending on the internet, haven't you seen?”

  He chuckles. “Aye, who hasn't?” 

  She plants her hand on her hip, donning a sultry smirk. “So, are you up for the task, or not?”

  He licks his lips and leans over the bar counter, his eyes locked with hers. He wants to ask her if she fell from heaven. Or if he just died and went to heaven. But he has a feeling cheesy lines wouldn't work on a woman like her. “I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific as to what task you’re referring to, love.” But who the fuck is he kidding? There is nothing he could do for her he would consider a task. 

  Only a pleasure.

  Blush paints her cheeks and she leans over, meeting him halfway until her face is mere inches from his. “I have a few in mind… but how ‘bout that drink, first?” 

  Bloody. Fuck-ing. Hell.

  Her voice is a mixture of sweet and seductive. He doesn’t know how she manages to pull off a combination like that. His eyes drop to her lips and he’s seriously considering kissing the holy fuck out of her over the bar counter, audience be damned. He almost groans just thinking about her soft, luscious looking lips pressed against his, but he swallows the sound before it leaves his throat.

  He lifts his eyes to hers. “Sit tight, sweetheart.” 

  “Okay,” she says with a smile and takes a seat on a barstool. “Oh, and a Cosmo for my sister-in-law.”

  “Coming right up.” It takes every ounce of strength within him to pull away, but somehow he does. 

  He has to take slow, deep breaths to peel his mind from the fantasies he’s already having of him and the blonde temptress watching him intently as he prepares her drink. 

  ~*~

  Emma snorts. She honestly didn’t think he would actually take her seriously. She was only kidding around. But he took her very seriously and eagerly accepted her challenge. And he did an amazing job.

  She stares at the green drink in amusement, impressed, to say the least. He brought it to her in a margarita glass with two lime wedges sticking out like ears. The stem is wrapped in a napkin tied with twine and clearly made to look like Baby Yoda’s coat. And there's a cocktail stick tucked into the twine like a sword. 

  “Well? How did I do?” he asks, eagerly seeking her answer.

  “It's so cute,” she comments honestly. “It looks great, but does it taste as good as it looks?” As she asks that question, she’s looking up into his gorgeous eyes. And she can’t deny she’s wondering the same about him. 

  Does he taste as good as he looks? 

  Before she brings the glass to her lips, he puts up a finger to stop her. 

  “Hold on.” He grabs a toothpick and stabs two cherries, one on each end, before sticking it into the drink, giving the baby Yoda a pair of eyes. “For the finishing touch,” he smirks.

  After she stops laughing, she takes a hesitant drink. Once she takes the first sip, her face sours and she blinks a few times as she swallows. “Wow, that’s strong.” She arches her brow, pinning him with an accusatory stare. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  He chuckles. “Aye, isn't that the intention?” 

  She nods and grins. “This will certainly do the trick.” She rises from the stool and reaches into her back pocket, pulling out her phone case wallet, which holds her phone and money. “How much?” she asks, pulling out some cash.

  He waves off her offer. “The drinks are on me,” he says with a wink.

  “Are you sure? I don't wanna get you in trouble.”

  “Trust me, I won't get in trouble.”

  Taking his word for it, she tucks the cash into her wallet. “Thanks for the drinks, Killian.”

  He arches a sultry brow, making her heart skip a beat. “So, you’ve heard of me, but I have yet to learn your name?”

  She laughs and points at the name embroidered into his shirt. “Yours is right there.”

  “Oh, that,” he chuckles, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he peers down and brushes his fingers over the letters. “My boss insists we have our names displayed on our shirts.”

  “Well, your boss sounds like a pain in the ass.”

  “He is, but I only have to work here for another six months. I’m graduating from SBU in the Spring.”

  She nods as a group of people approach the counter beside her. She glances over at them and shifts her gaze back to him, wishing he had more time to chat, but she knows he has to work. “It's Emma,” she makes sure to tell him before the counter becomes too overcrowded. “My name,” she clarifies, in case that wasn't obvious.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Emma,” he says sweetly, reaching over to shake her hand. When she slips her palm into his, she can feel the sparks from his touch, but instead of shaking her hand, he brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it.

  Oh, God.

  This man’s lips on her skin feel like heaven and sin. She has to clench her thighs to stop the throbbing she feels between her legs.

  Fuck.

  She feels the loss when she pulls her hand away and sees the loss written all over his face. “Well, I should um… I should get back to my sister-in-law,” she stammers after learning how to form words again.

  He scratches behind his ear and opens his mouth to speak before closing it again like he’s nervous about something. “Of course, love.”

  Emma swallows thickly and lingers a bit, patiently waiting for him to say what’s on his mind. 

  He must sense she's waiting for him because as she grabs the drinks and starts to back away from the counter, his voice stops her. “Emma?”

  Good Lord, she loves the way her name slides off his tongue.

  She cocks a brow, hoping he's about to ask for her number. Praying he does. “Yes?”

  “I um… can you come back here before you leave? Say in an hour when it slows down a bit? I’d love to chat with you some more,” he says sincerely.

  Emma purses her lips like she has to mull over his question. The offer is extremely tempting. But she has something else in mind other than talking. Something involving his hands all over her body and her legs wrapped around his hips as he's plunging into her. 

  And you know what? Fuck it.

  She’s sure whatever he has in mind is exactly what she has in mind. Or at least, close to it. “Sure.”

  His eyes widen in excitement and surprise, as though he wasn't actually expecting her to say yes. “Really?”

  She flashes him her sexiest grin. “Yeah, why not? I’ll see you in an hour.”

  “See you then, love. Enjoy your drink. May the booze be with you.” 

  She snorts and backs away from the counter, holding up her glass in salute before taking a sip. Their eyes are still locked before she turns around.

  As she walks away, she cranes her neck to see him still watching her, even as he's serving other customers. She winks at him and has the pleasure of witnessing that adorable pink blush coloring his cheeks and the smirk on his lips before she faces forward and heads back to Mary Margaret. 

  She’s not looking forward to the lecture her sister-in-law is about to give her, but honestly, she doesn't care. She's looking forward to returning to the hot bartender, hoping to go back to his bedroom. Or the restroom. Either will do, really. As long as she gets to have him.

  After Mary Margaret is done chewing Emma out and reminding her of what a player Killian is, and after she finally realizes Emma is going to do what she wants, regardless of what anyone says, they are able to have some fun. 

  Ruby keeps the drinks coming, and soon they’re tipsy enough to get up and dance among the crowd of gyrating bodies already on the dance floor. Emma glances over at the counter every now and then, and every other time, she catches Killian staring at her, sending shivers down her spine. And every time he tosses her one of his cheeky smiles, her stomach flutters with butterflies. 

  Emma's thankful Mary Margaret is plastered enough to let loose and not give her any shit because she has no idea what Mary Margaret would do if Emma told her she's going back to talk to Killian. Though she has a feeling if Mary Margaret were sober, she'd do anything in her power to make sure Emma stayed away from him. 

  When the time finally comes, they order an Uber, which takes much longer than expected. She helps Mary Margaret into the backseat and tells her she's staying for a bit longer and will catch another Uber when she's ready to leave. She doesn't dare mention Killian's name, or that she plans on leaving with him, for fear Mary Margaret will blabber to her brother. Because then he'll come marching into the bar on his white horse to find his sister with the bartender and embarrass the hell out of her.

  Mary Margaret's too drunk and in no shape to talk her out of anything, so Emma’s able to escape, knowing her brother will take care of his wife when she gets home. 

  Emma quickly shoots David a text to let him know his wife had a few too many drinks and is on her way home in an Uber and that Emma decided to stay a little longer but will be home soon. Which is a lie. 

  She hopes. 

  Before the Uber drives away, Emma slips her phone into her pocket before heading back into the bar. She's fifteen minutes late, but it's not like Killian can go anywhere. He’s the bartender.

  Once inside, she takes a deep breath and tucks some hair behind her ears, a smile playing along her lips as she makes her way to the bar counter. She has no idea what exactly will happen once she reaches him, but with a face as gorgeous as his, she’s pretty sure she would let him do anything he wanted to.

  She’s also pretty sure he could help Emma get over her ex. As they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And that’s exactly what she plans on doing.

  As Emma nears the counter and spots Killian, the beaming smile on her face immediately falls flat.

  And her heart sinks.

  A busty blonde is standing at the bar, her hand running up and down Killian’s arm, her fingers tracing his tattoos. The woman is sitting on a barstool at the opposite side of the counter in a low-cut top that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, and a skirt so short and tight it looks like it's been painted on. Killian’s standing in front of her, so his back is to Emma as he gives his full attention to the other blonde. It's almost time for last call, so it's now much quieter in the bar, and she's close enough to be able to hear their conversation.

  “What can I get you, love?”

  “A Tequila.”

  “Tequilas are trouble,” he says matter-of-factly.

  She moves in closer, biting her smile. “So am I,” she taunts.

  “I’m fully aware,” he replies with a chuckle. He tries to move, probably to make her Tequila, but she grabs his arm, forcing him to stay. Though, forcing is a bit of an overstatement; Killian doesn't seem to be putting up much of a fight. “Would you like a snack, too?”

  Mischief dances in her eyes as she licks her lips, ogling him like he’s the snack. “I’m looking at it, honey.”

  Emma feels like she's going to be sick. 

  The woman leans in and bites his ear and then pulls away slightly. “Last weekend was incredible. Can’t stop thinking about having my legs wrapped around you,” she giggles.

  Jealousy stabs Emma’s gut and disappointment shoots through her like a lightning bolt, bringing her back to reality.

  Mary Margaret and Ruby were totally right. 

  He’s a player. 

  Unable to listen to them for another second, Emma spins on her heels and dashes out the door so fast, she almost tramples over some guys heading in at the last minute. 

  She should’ve listened to the warnings, but she was too blinded by the attraction she felt for Killian. 

  God, she’s a fucking idiot. 

  Why does she always fall for the dangerous guys? The ones who are bad for her? Why can’t she just find a nice guy for once? Someone safe. Someone who won’t stomp on her heart and discard it like trash without batting an eye.

  She pushes open the door, tears stinging her eyes as she runs outside into the bitter, chilly night, hoping the Uber driver hasn’t taken off yet. But it's wishful thinking because she can't think of a reason why he wouldn't have left by now.

  “Ooof.”

  The air rushes from her lungs as she slams into a tall, solid mass. 

  Hands are gripping her arms to keep her from falling as apologies leave her lips. “Sorry.” She looks up at the man towering over her, Emma's eyes connecting with soft blue ones, which are full of apology. 

  He flashes a warm smile, his lips framed by a light brown scruff.

  “I’m the one who should be sorry, lass. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” 

  Shit.

  He has an accent too? 

  What’s with all the accents in this town? She’s noticed a lot of the locals here weren’t actually born here. Or the States. She didn’t realize how much she liked men with foreign accents until tonight.

  This man continues to apologize, but he doesn’t sound very sorry. At least not for crashing into her. “I was distracted,” he says with a smirk, giving Emma the impression she was what he was distracted by.

  Emma tears herself from the trance she’s in and glances at the side of the road, where the Uber once was. “Shit,” she curses under her breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks in genuine concern.

  “Yeah, it’s just… my ride has already left. And I’m too drunk to drive home,” she sighs.

  Before the man can respond, his phone chimes from his jacket. “Excuse me,” he says apologetically, pulling out the device. He studies whatever’s on the screen with a worried expression, then looks up at her, his mouth slightly agape.

  “Everything okay?” she asks with an arched brow, starting to shiver as a frigid wind sweeps around her.

  “Um, yeah.” He glances at his phone again before lifting his gaze. “You wouldn’t happen to be Emma, would you?”

  She freezes and just stares at him, not knowing how to answer that. Or rather, why she should answer that.

  What the hell? 

  She's never seen this man before in her life, so how does he know her name? 

  Her heart pounds and she wants to run, but she's afraid she’s not sober enough for that at the moment. “How do you know my name?”

  He appears to be hesitant as he holds up his phone, showing her his screen.

  Emma takes it in her hands so she can get a better look.

  Her eyes widen when she sees a text from a Nolan.

  Nolan, as in her brother? Who else with the last name, Nolan, lives with a Mary Margaret and an Emma?

  Nolan: I just received a text from Emma. She sent Mary Margaret home in an Uber and is at your bar. Can you make sure she gets home all right?

  Her blood sizzles as she rereads the message. Then she reads the texts before it, a couple in particular sticking out like sore thumbs.

  Nolan: So… I have a huge favor to ask.

  Me: Sure, what’s up, mate?

  Nolan: The wife and sister are going to the Rabbit Hole tonight. Emma just moved here from New York after a terrible break-up and Mary Margaret is determined to hook her up with someone.

  Nolan: Think you have time to get away from work and keep an eye on my sister, make sure she doesn’t find any trouble? 

  What the actual fuck?

  Why is her brother having this man spy on her?

  Emma turns around and pulls back the hand still holding the phone, about to toss the damn thing.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, don’t shoot the messenger, love,” he pleads. “I need my phone.”

  The endearment makes her shiver. Killian had called her love, too.

  She spins around to glare at the stranger. “David’s using you to spy on me?” she demands firmly.

  He holds up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t want to, lass, I promise, but I would’ve felt terrible if I said no and then, later on, found out something bad happened to you. I promise, I was only helping a friend and looking out for you.”

  Emma sighs and hands his phone back, knowing he’s telling the truth. She saw his responses to David’s texts and gathered he didn’t wish to put his nose where it didn’t belong or to stir up any trouble. “David always has been good at persuading people,” she grumbles.

  “Aye, especially when it comes to protecting the ones he loves,” he winks. 

  “Even so, he has no business spying on me!” she states louder than intended.

  “I wholeheartedly agree,” he states adamantly, making sure to express how much he was against this whole idea, to begin with.

  Emma crosses her arms over her chest, wondering how she never saw him at the Rabbit Hole when she was there. “So, you spied on me at the Rabbit Hole?”

  He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t get the chance to. By the time I got there, you and Mary Margaret were already gone.”

  Emma shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the thought of her own brother asking someone to spy on her. But she’s not surprised. “Brothers are so annoying,” she grumbles.

  He chuckles, and the deep, hearty sound warms her heart a little, despite the chill in the air. “Agreed.”

  She arches her brow, as though to ask him to expand on why.

  “I have one of those, too. So I get it.”

  Emma’s features soften, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Older or younger?”

  “Younger. He can be quite the ponce sometimes, but at the end of the day, I’d lay down my life for him.”

  “I usually feel the same about David… and then he goes and pulls something like this,” Emma remarks bitterly.

  “I take it he does this a lot?”

  “He did when we were younger. But then I moved to New York and he came here, so we didn’t see each other very much.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  Another gust of wind makes her shiver and has him removing his jacket and offering it to her. Even though she’s already wearing one.

  “May I?”

  She cocks a brow. “Won’t you be cold?”

  He shrugs. “I rarely get cold.”

  She gives him a soft nod. He looks like he’d be the type of man who knows how to stay warm, and therefore knows how to keep a woman warm. He has those big, strong arms and broad shoulders, and he’s very tall. She could picture herself being buried in his warmth, but maybe because she's currently freezing her ass off. “Thanks,” she murmurs when he goes behind her and drapes the jacket over her shoulders. 

  “It’s my pleasure, love.” When he’s standing in front of her again, he sticks out his hand. “The name’s Liam.”

  Emma smiles and slips her palm in his. 

  She was right. He is warm. Very warm. “I think David’s mentioned your name a few times.”

  “Probably not as much as he talks about you. In fact, I feel like I already know you,” he chuckles as they break the handshake.

  “Hopefully, he had good things to say?” She almost groans at the idea of David spewing a bunch of embarrassing stories about her from when she was a kid.

  “Aye. Very good things… well, mostly,” he admits. “But who doesn’t have at least a complaint or two about their siblings?”

  She nods in agreement. “True. I complain about him all the time.”

  He grins big and wide. “I don’t doubt that.” When his smile fades a little, he scratches his head as he looks at her, hesitant to form the next words he wants to say. “Well, uh… seeing as it’s,” he checks his watch, “almost two o’clock and not getting any warmer out here, how about I give you a ride home?”

  Emma twists her lips in thought. Normally she wouldn’t even think twice about rejecting a ride from a stranger, but there’s something about this guy that tells her he’s not a serial killer or rapist. There’s something pure about him, a vast contrast to the bartender inside. That guy screamed danger and sin, but this man standing before her gives off completely different vibes. He has a warm personality, which is very refreshing, and he has honest eyes. Besides, she may not be able to stand her brother and his antics sometimes, but he's always had good taste in friends. And if David trusts Liam enough to keep tabs on his sister, then he must be trustworthy.

  So with a feeble smile, she finally answers. “Okay.”

Tagging people who have shown interest. Let me know if you would like to be added. @itsfabianadocarmo​ @resident-of-storybrooke @onceuponaprincessworld @viajandosinalas @teamhook​ @captainswan-shipper88 @jamif @katielovesstarcrossedlovers @uhthreeyuh @lfh1226-linda @babyyouremyqueen @sthonour @julesep3026 @fairytalewhispersinmyheart @andiirivera @wefoundloveunderthelight @wickedsw4n @eleveneitherway @eherron14 @ouatpost @transparentclodsludgeweasel

[pricemarshfield]

fresh as a daisy

Chapter 2/2. Requested by @renluthor: dani/ainsley angst/angry makeout? 

Read on AO3 here.

Ainsley wakes up to a text from her brother and Dani pressed up against her, back to front. She's breathing slow and steady, like she doesn't have a care in the world. She does, of course--Ainsley's learned how crime scenes haunt her girlfriend(?) in the way she wakes up stiff and frozen, sometimes, like Ainsley does when she dreams about not-Endicott's blood on her hands. She's lied and said something about that time she got locked in Claremont, and Dani believed her, and that's the worst fucking part.

"I can hear you thinking from here," Dani murmurs, voice rumbling against Ainsley's chest. Ainsley doesn't jump, but it's a near thing. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says, too quickly, a lie meant to be caught.

Dani rolls over, eyes still hazy with sleep. "Come on, you can tell me."

Ainsley sighs, props her head up on her arm so she's leaning slightly over Dani. "I'm just worried about my meeting with the head reporter. He said he wants 'more' from my reports." It's easy enough to muster up annoyance about it, because she is annoyed with him.

"Carr?" Dani asks, and Ainsley grumbles, leans into Dani so she's pressed right into the crook of her neck. She could stay here for hours. "Fuck that guy."

Ainsley laughs, teeth scraping at Dani's skin mostly-on accident, and Dani shifts so that Ainsley's half-on top of her. "When do you have to go into work?"

"You're insatiable," Dani says with a little put-upon sigh that's as fake as the innocent expression Ainsley's definitely wearing right now.

"That's not actually an answer to my question," Ainsley says.

Dani doesn't respond for a second, and Ainsley pushes herself up to see a frown on her face. "In...less than an hour and a half, actually."

"Boo," Ainsley says, dramatically flopping back down. Dani's chest rumbles a little with laughter that Ainsley feels more than hears, and it's so fucking nice in a way that Ainsley's not used to yet, even after months of it all.

She hasn't looked at her phone yet. She knows it'll break the morning into something she has to deal with and not just luxuriate in.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" she asks instead, and Dani laughs.

"What, you're gonna cook?"

"Better than you," Ainsley says. "I didn't know you could burn toast that bad unless you were trying."

"You have all these weird 'smart' appliances, how is that my fault," Dani mutters. "I can make pancakes."

Ainsley hasn't had pancakes since she was young enough to still wear a bright pink dress with ruffles to school. "Sure."

--

Ainsley's mom had asked her to move back in, and she had been planning on it before--this, with Dani. She still goes back basically every day--she has a little study space in the basement--but it's nice to have a place that's hers.

And Dani's, in a way.

Dani has her own apartment, a place with chipped paint but plants everywhere, homey in a way that Ainsley hadn't thought was a real thing outside of home and garden magazines. She spends more nights than not here, though, and Ainsley's started to feel like the place is too big without her home.

She doesn't have a key yet. Ainsley has no idea when she should bring it up. If she should, even; there's that whole thing with the murder she got away with and Dani being a homicide detective.

Ainsley glances at her phone to see the text from Malcolm, complete with hidden message. She should check it. Dani's busy at the stove, it's the best time.

Dani hums some oldies song at the stove, the admittedly-weak smell of cooking pancakes wafting towards Ainsley, and she still can't bring herself to break the morning. Instead, she puts the phone facedown on the table, stands up, and wraps her arms around Dani from behind. Dani doesn't start or stiffen like she used to, when they were still figuring each other out.

"Is it supposed to look that lumpy?" Ainsley asks brightly.

"Yes," Dani says. "They're pancakes, it's not gonna be perfectly even."

"As long as they taste good," Ainsley says. She has to push herself up a little to rest her head against Dani's shoulder. It's not exactly comfortable, but she has no intentions of moving. Dani flips the pancakes with an expert little twist of the spatula, and Ainsley makes an impressed noise. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I worked at a diner in college," Dani says. "I was hired as a waitress, but I was way better behind the scenes." She shudders a little. "I hate customer service."

Ainsley's never had experience with customer service. She's thankful for that, but it does mean she doesn't have anything she can add, so she just hums agreement into Dani's shoulder. They sit and sway sway to the sound of pancakes cooking and their breathing for a little longer.

Dani covers her pancakes in almost as much syrup as Malcolm used to, and at Ainsley's disbelieving look, laughs, and says, "Really, you should try it!"

Ainsley does, if only so she can prove herself right, but it does end up being pretty tasty.

"Don't tell Malcolm," Ainsley says, ignoring all of her etiquette training to talk with her mouth full because she knows it'll make Dani smile. Sure enough, she does, and Ainsley feels this warm glow in her chest she's still not used to. "He'll be so smug."

"Really?" Dani says. "He doesn't seem the type."

Ainsley feels something twist in her stomach, remembering how horrified Malcolm was when he'd figured out that she faked it. She stands by it, of course she does, but yikes. He'd lied to her, why does she feel bad? There's the text she's ignoring, the worry around that...that's probably it.

Still, she can hardly check it with Dani at the table, so she smiles at her and says, "That's just 'cause he always had a soft spot for you."

There's an awkward beat of silence where both of them sit in the reality of that being true in a way that's completely at odds with them sitting across the table for each other, half-dressed and warm.

"I do have to head to work," Dani says after awhile, and Ainsley frowns as if she doesn't want her to go. In reality, she could use the time to check her texts, figure out how she's going to present herself when Dani gets home. Tired, probably, but not too tired, she's still working from home as much as she can. Happy to see her--that part she doesn't even have to fake.

"Aw," Ainsley says. "You coming back here after?"

"Of course," Dani says easily, like it's nothing to just let someone else in her life the way Ainsley's been letting her here.

Ainsley's not sure what tugs at her heart just then, but she's pretty sure it's not a good thing. Dani heads to the bedroom to get dressed while Ainsley finishes her pancakes. The syrup's significantly less enjoyable now that they're cold, sticking to her mouth in a way that makes her want to toss them in the trash.

Dani's not looking. She could.

She stares down at them for awhile too long, chewing on the mush in her mouth until she wants to gag. When Dani walks out of the room again, she looks up, forces herself to swallow, and smiles. "Heading out?"

"Yeah," Dani says, pressing a quick, casual kiss to Ainsley's cheek. Ainsley wants her to linger, but instead she rushes out. Ainsley has to get up and lock the door behind her, and she stands there, staring blankly at the front door of her own apartment for a bit.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket again, and she unlocks it. Something about a private investigator, because of course it's about a fucking private investigator. She just knows Malcolm's gonna lord this over her, talk about how this is proof he didn't overstep when he was trying to protect her. Biting back an annoyed reply--she has to give him the benefit of the doubt, save the rudeness for when he fucks up--she texts back something about meeting tomorrow.

Today she's trying to do something for Dani.

One: her apartment's always neat, but she remembers being told that neatness was onto holiness at her etiquette schools, and the lesson's hard to shake, so she cleans. She's not down on hands and knees scrubbing the floors or anything, but the place looks a little nicer, and she's proud of it.

Two: something Dani will care about a little more. She goes the extra mile--lights candles, gets flowers, is polite (if direct) with the restaurant worker on the phone who'll get something delivered to her door. The candles are warm, smoky scents that are a far cry from the crisp, clear ones Ainsley favors, but Dani had murmured stories about a campfire into her shoulder once, tracing her freckles, and Ainsley hopes she'll like that she remembered. The flowers aren't roses. Dani had a story about some ex who got her roses that Ainsley winced in sympathy at even as her sides hurt from laughing so hard. So she got orchids, as expensive as they are hard to keep happy. (It's a little on the nose, but Ainsley is her parents' daughter, and drama is the easier vice to indulge.)

The food is the part Dani will like the most, Ainsley's guessing. The thoughtful, almost-metaphorical gestures are Ainsley's thing, always unsure with how to give affection without giving too much away. Food, though, is an almost universal love language--Dani making pancakes in her kitchen, Ainsley buying her wines that cost more than Dani's rent. Plus, Dani likes Thai, and Ainsley hasn't had good tom yum in too long.

She gets this all ready by 10am, and finds herself bored by 10:03.

Ainsley would normally go bother Malcolm about a case, but Dani hasn't texted her anything interesting, so it's not worth the effort of dealing with his panic over this investigator guy. She does care about him, and she does worry, but just--God, he'd lied to her for ages. It's hardly like she's incompetent. She'd handled things just fine, hadn't she?

There's a bitter twist in her stomach, and she pauses, considers it for a second before choosing not to look at it too closely.

She goes to lunch with her mother, who talks around Ainsley and Dani as best she can while still prying for information. Ainsley ignores the more back-handed comment about her always wanting her brother's things and says, "We're having dinner tonight, actually."

"Oh, where are you going?" her mother says. "I can get you a reservation if you don't have one. There's that new French place on--"

"We're staying in," Ainsley interrupts, something she'd have gotten a ruler on the knuckles for if she'd tried it back in etiquette school. "Sorry."

"Oh," her mother says. "Well. We are quite different, aren't we?"

Ainsley shifts in her seat, immediately, uncomfortably aware that there's something hidden behind her words that she can't quite make out. "Not that different. You--" She cuts herself off, which is also rude, but she's pretty sure her mother would have slapped her if she'd finished saying you made compromises in your relationship, too. "You, uh, would have a home dinner if Gil asked."

Her mother finishes her drink without looking at Ainsley, cheeks a little pink. "Ainsley..."

"I'm just saying," Ainsley says, turning back to her food with a grin.

--

Working from home--the one thing the pandemic brought that Ainsley's happy to hold onto--is great, but she can't deny the little rush of productivity she gets from being in the office again, even if she's just waiting in a hard plastic chair to talk with a man she hates. He's got to listen to her about this private investigator thing, though; he always listens to her when it comes to crime stories.

She used to get pissed about it, she's more than her father's daughter, but...well. Hoxley's here to investigate a murder she did, so.

Not that she plans to include that in her pitch.

When he finally waves her in, thirty minutes after their meeting was supposed to start, she can feel her smile is a little brittle around the edges. He looks up at her through his glasses, which badly need to be cleaned, and says, "What've you got, Whitly?"

"There's a private investigator here in town," she says quickly. "According to my sources, he's here to figure out who killed Nicholas Endicott."

"Your sources," Carr says, looking at something on his laptop. Ainsley's fingers twitch. "Your brother or your girlfriend?"

"...my brother," she says, knowing better than to tell Carr that her sources are private, even if that's what every ethics in journalism conference tells them. Carr thinks he's above it all.

She wonders who he'd assign her story to, if it ever came out. Leslie doesn't do the crime beat. No one does the crime beat except for her. He'd probably take it himself, try and get a Pulitzer, squander the research completely, and make her look innocent. Hm. It would help in court.

It's not healthy that she's thinking this, she knows, but at least she can talk to her dad about it later.

"Endicott died ages ago, why now?"

"His head surfaced in a lake somewhere," Ainsley says.

"Find out where. You're good, take the camera crew."

Ainsley smiles at him. "Thank you, sir."

He waves her out rather than even do her the courtesy of addressing her.

Dick.

--

Reporting is invigorating, as it always is, and she gets to wave at her brother before the cameras turn on. He looks panicked when he spots her, but whatever, she's literally here to do her job. She goes into autopilot, reporting the facts as she knows them--Simon Hoxley is here, he's researching Endicott, and there's caution tape preventing her crew from getting closer to this boat. When the camera operator turns as if to film the boat, she quickly gestures them back, hands low enough that it shouldn't be broadcasted. Can't he spot the body there? They'll get sued.

Also, she wants to be on camera. It's not like she got her degree in journalism because she dislikes attention.

They're able to chat with Hoxley for just a second, and he looks at her with a polite disinterest that is simultaneously heartening and discouraging. Pros: he doesn't suspect her. Cons: she's not even worth suspecting, the fuck? He's already glaring at Malcolm. Malcolm's everyone's focus.

At least, everyone but Dani, and she shouldn't feel so much vindictive little pride in that. Dani smiles at her when she passes by, rushing after the chaos that is her squad on a case. Ainsley grabs her hand and squeezes it quickly while the cameraman's busy catching Gil passing by. Dani beams at her, and Ainsley's heart thuds a little heavy in her chest.

She drops her hand, switches back to reporter mode, and concludes her broadcast with something about Hoxley getting to the bottom of this, and be sure to tune in for updates on the case.

--

The day drags by after that, giving bland check-ins to the camera while getting bizarre text updates about it all from Malcolm. Dani doesn't text at work unless it's important, and Ainsley finds herself hoping nothing comes up so that their dinner isn't postponed. She just wants to spend some time with her--whatever Dani is.

They should probably work that out.

Carr just grumbles when she checks in with him at the end of the day to see if there's anything else she needs to do, so she takes it as she's free and heads home. The taxi driver makes small talk with her about her broadcasts, and while he doesn't seem to understand that she is not involved in actually solving the murders, it's the most someone other than Dani or her brother has talked with her about the day-to-day of what she does in months. She tips like $600, because who the hell cares, it's her mom's money anyway.

Then she rushes around the apartment getting the few things ready that she couldn't do in the morning--actually lighting the candles, setting the table, restraining herself from setting more than one of each utensil on the table, getting the food where it's left outside her apartment when her phone dings to let her know, remembering to tip the driver right away, and getting the food on the table.

God, she hopes Dani gets here soon. The food smells good and her lunch with her mother wasn't exactly filling. One thing Dani's taught her is how ridiculous rich people portions are. (Dani's words, not hers.)

It's not ten minutes later when Ainsley hears Dani's hand on the handle, and realizes shit, she forgot to light the candles. She scrambles to get at least the one on the table. She turns to grab the lighter and hears Dani say, "Uh."

She whirls around. "Hi."

"Hi," Dani says with a soft smile. "What's all this?"

"You treated me to breakfast, so," Ainsley says.

"You didn't have to do this," Dani says, looking at the Thai on the table, smile not dropping or dimming in the slightest.

"I know," Ainsley says. "I wanted to."

"You're sweet," Dani says, and walks over to pull her into a kiss. "Do you really only have these long lighters?"

"I don't smoke and I don't like the small ones, I'm always worried I'm gonna burn myself," Ainsley says, and Dani laughs and lights the candle on the table for her.

The dinner's perfect, and Ainsley gets to vent about Carr not caring about her reporting beyond profits at all and Dani gets to talk about how ridiculous Hoxley and her brother were acting all day and Ainsley gets to bite down a joke about thumbs that she couldn't explain. Dani sneaks some of Ainsley's food off her plate, Ainsley smacks her hand away, and Dani shakes her hand as if it hurts while failing to suppress a smile.

Normally, this is the part of the night where Ainsley would pull Dani into bed, or into the shower while Dani gripes about the jeans being new. But the night feels warm and soft and Ainsley just wants to hold her.

"You've got me completely messed up," Ainsley says, and when Dani looks up at her, a bit of sauce on her lips, she can see she doesn't understand what she means. "I mean, like." She huffs. "I never felt like this in any of my, uh."

"Relationships?" Dani suggests.

"Are we? In one, I mean," Ainsley says, tapping her foot against the floor, an anxious tic she's had as long as she can remember.

"I'd like to be," Dani says slowly, and Ainsley knows what that cautious expression means. She's pretty sure she has it, too. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Ainsley says, and Dani relaxes. "Also, you've got some sauce on your lips." She wipes it off absent-mindedly, and Dani leans across the table to kiss her. The angle's awkward, but Ainsley's smiling into the kiss too much to mind.

The rest of the night is just idle, easy conversation. Ainsley feels light, giddy. Dani's arm around her shoulders, Ainsley's hand in Dani's, the dim mood of the candlelight. It's all perfect.

Still, at the end of the night Ainsley can't quite sleep, even as Dani snoozes peacefully next to her. She's not sure why. Everything's perfect. Dani's here, Dani's officially her girlfriend, she's getting to do her report on Hoxley, her and Malcolm got away with it. Every piece of her life is fitting together just fine.

"Babe?" Dani says, and Ainsley turns. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ainsley says grumpily. "I just can't sleep. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," Dani says, already half-asleep again. "Sleep soon."

"I'll try," Ainsley whispers, staring at Dani. The easy acceptance, the give-and-take--it's new, but Ainsley loves it. She feels like she could tell her anything.

Oh. Dammit.

Seriously? she thinks to/at herself. You're upset we can't confess our murder? Fucking ridiculous. That's a normal thing to not tell someone. I mean, Dad--

Ainsley abruptly sits up, goes to take a shower. That's not--she can't think like that. There's unhealthy and there's self-sabotage, and that barrels over the line at lightspeed. Jesus.

Still, she turns back to look at Dani as she closes the bathroom door--slow, so as not to wake her again--and she can't help but think on it for far too long, staring at the tiles of her shower with a bitterness she wishes she could bite back.

She should text Malcolm. But he and Dani--that's still too fresh a wound. It's not like she can talk to her mom about it. And Dad...

The only reason she can think of not to is Dani would be disappointed. But that's enough.

Probably.

[libsterslobsters]

When the Levee Breaks...

Summary: It's been three months since The Snap. The reader has a lot to cope with: newly-aquired super soldier capabilities, being a stranger in a strange place, and most of all, the loss of Bucky. But lucky for her, Steve Rogers isn't one to let his friends go through hard times alone.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! Reader (mentioned), Steve Rogers x fem!enhanced! Reader (platonic)

Reader has the ability to see bits of the future, understand all languages, and process information quickly as well as being a super soldier

Warnings: angst, self-destruct behavior, mentions of suicidal tendencies, mentions of mental illness, mentions of eating disorder, tiny bit of fluff.

___________________________________________

“Some times I feel I’ve got to run away, I’ve got to run away…” Her footfalls are too fast to keep in step with the song’s beat, but it still gives her some comfort to listen. Some, because really, when she’s punishing her body for the mere sake of feeling it scream at her, there’s not much comfort to be found.

“Once I ran to you, now I’ll run from you, this tainted love you’ve given-” She’s so busy concentrating on pushing herself, making herself hurt, that she doesn’t realize there’s anyone in front of her until she runs smack dab into them. “Oof!”

She’s knocked flat on her ass, but it doesn’t keep her down (no, of course not, she’s a damn super soldier now). She hops up immediately, intent on apologizing, making sure the other person is okay, and then getting back to her run, when the person she’s run into grasps her arm.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am are you-” Whoever she ran into stops short (she’s trying not to look him in the face, faces are painful to see now that she knows she’ll never see Barnes’ again), and the hand on her elbow falls away, forcing her to look up. Oh no.

“Steve.” Great. Out of all the people she had to run into, it had to be Steve Rogers. She knows most women would be absolutely thrilled to have knocked Captain America off his feet (he’s now brushing off the back of his pants, which she should probably do as well, but can’t bring herself to care), but not her. She likes Steve, really she does. They haven’t spent a lot of time together, but he is -was, he’s gone now, was- Bucky’s best friend, and they got along fine. He’s a nice guy. That’s the real problem, because-

“How’re you doing? I haven’t seen you in forever.” -he’ll ask her that. You know, being nice. Which means she’s going to have to lie.

“I’m fine. Good to see you again.” Now if he’d just get out of her way so she can get back to what she was doing.

“I didn’t know you were a runner.” Damn. He wants to have a conversation. Doesn’t he know that earbuds in means, “Don’t talk to me?” Probably not, because he’d never be that rude. Captain frickin’ America.

“I’m not.” Why did she have to say that? Now he’s looking at her in surprise, eyebrows raised, mouth open in shock.

“Then why-”

“Just thought I’d try it out. See if the super serum really is all that.” She can’t very well tell him that she’s out here hoping that the place where one of Thanos’ goons speared her through the lung (and the kidney… and the intestines… and part of her brain) wasn’t repaired as well as the doctors’ claimed and it’ll open up if she just runs fast enough, allowing her to slowly bleed out. He seems like the type to see that as a cry for help.

He chuckles. “Well, considering you were going around 65 miles per hour, I think you have your answer.” Sixty-five? That can’t be right.

“How do you know that?” He shrugs.

“ ‘Cause that’s how fast I was going, and you ran into me.” Right. Of course she’s now as fast as America’s golden boy. Because her life wasn’t bizarre enough already.

“Sorry.”

“No harm done.” She’s all prepared offer him a courtesy nod and take off again, when- “Are you hungry? Let me buy you breakfast.”

Her first thought is, “He’s flirting with me.” and her anger flares, but then she remembers who this is, and calms down. He’s being nice. Again.

“No thanks. I already ate.” She didn’t, hasn’t in two days in fact, but the damn super serum is keeping her from dropping.

“Then how about coffee?” He can’t take a hint. “Just a head���s up, the serum also keeps you from getting a buzz from the caffeine, but it still tastes the same.”

“I drink tea.” Why does she keep talking to him? The last thing she wants is to be around anyone that reminds her of whom she’s lost.

Steve smirks. “Then let me buy you a cup of tea.” Again, anger wells up in her, anger and pain, but she pushes it down. He doesn’t know about the last person who bought her a cup of tea, or what it lead to. This is just being friendly to the widow (no, they never made it that far, ex girlfriend) of his old pal.

“Please.” The megawatt smile falters for a moment. “We’ve all lost so many people that we can’t afford to let even potential friends slip away that easily.”

She doesn’t want to be his friend. Doesn’t want to be anyone’s friend. She just wants to be left alone for however long she has left until her enhanced body falters and finally gives out. But, it’s against everything she believes, whatever values she has left now that a huge part of her has disappeared like dust left behind after the snap, to return kindness with a cold shoulder. And if he’s so desperate for company...

“Okay.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

He’s never been to this coffee shop before, but he’s trying to hide that fact by studying the menu written in chalk with great concentration. In fact, he doesn’t particularly want to be here now. It’s too empty, too quiet. There’s too many people crying into their beverages of choice. But he had to come up with a valid excuse to keep her from disappearing again like she had three months ago after he told her, “I’m sorry. He’s gone. We lost him.”, and he was running low on ideas.

She looks terrible. No, correction; she looks average. He’s never seen the effects of the serum on a woman before (apart from the brief encounter with Hydra’s other super soldiers), but he’s almost certain she should look… stronger, somehow. More robust. If he’s being honest, she doesn’t even look like her old self, pre-serum.

She’s cut her hair, chopped it off unevenly, and it makes her look more severe. Or maybe that’s the fact that her cheekbones are more prominent, and although it shouldn’t be possible, she has dark circles under her eyes. She’s thinner too, although it’s unavoidable that her muscle tone has improved (at least from what he can tell; she’s in workout clothes, not the trendy kind, but a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, and besides, he’s keeping his eyes trained respectfully on her face). In short, she looks miserable.

Eventually, they both do order, and he doesn’t so much as get the chance to ask where she’d like to sit before she makes a bee-line for the table in the corner, half-hidden by a large fern, away from everyone else. That cuts down on the chances of them being recognized, or really, mostly him.

He gives her a few minutes to stir and sip her tea before starting the enquiry.

“So how are you doing really?” She nearly drops her cup at that.

“I told you, I’m fine.” So he’s going to have to dig.

“No you’re not.” She opens her mouth, more than likely to contradict him, but he continues. “You can’t be. I’m not, and I don’t know anyone else who is.”

Her eyes narrow, and he’s reminded of something Bucky told him in passing conversation back in Wakanda. “I always know when she’s mad, and so does everyone else. Trust me, you can tell.” He was right. Her face is rapidly flushing, and her posture has completely changed.

“Fine.” She snaps, and begins tearing the label off of her drink. “I’m doing shitty. I don’t have anywhere to live, so I’ve been sleeping at a different emergency shelter every night. I don’t have a job, which means I don’t have a source of income. I don’t know anyone because I’ve never been to fucking New York before. Oh, and my fiance turned to dust in front of me. That what you wanted to hear?”

There’s so much to unpack, but first thing’s first.

“You’re staying at the shelters?” She nods.

“Most nights. Sometimes I sleep on the subway. It’s not like the seats are full anymore.”

That’s not going to cut it. He may not know her well, but he’s not going to let her be homeless. He’s about to offer up the couch in his apartment (or, more than likely once she’s actually agreed to go, the bed while he takes the couch), but out of nowhere, she bursts into tears.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” She swipes at her eyes roughly. “That was rude of me. You didn’t deserve that.” No, he didn’t, but he gets it. This is a weird time for everyone.

“It’s okay.” He attempts what he hopes is a friendly smile. “I think we’ve all earned the right to not be as polite as normal. Plus, you really are doing shitty-”

She chuckles. “Wow. Captain America swears. Who would’ve thought.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes, her sipping her tea, and him his… whatever this is. All the while, he’s trying to figure out the best way to shoe-horn, “Let me help you.” into casual conversation. Finally, he decides to just do it. After all, what’s the worst that can happen? She runs off again, goes back to the subway. On second thought, that’s pretty bad. Tact. This is a time for tact.

“What was it you do again? For a job, that is?”

“Did.” What? “Sorry again. Force of habit.” She meets his eyes. “I taught English as a second language, mostly to adults. That makes me a little anal about grammar.”

A teacher… that’s unfortunate, because all schools (and colleges for that matter) nation wide have suspended classes “until further notice” in the wake of Thanos. It’s possible she could submit an application now and be hired whenever they regroup, but she needs a source of income immediately.

“I also worked as a translator briefly. That is, before people started asking questions about how I was able to understand every foreign language they put in front of me without so much as a briefing.” Now that, he might be able to work with. Especially since their team has gotten a lot smaller.

“If, and it’s not a guarantee, but if I could offer you a job working with me, Nat, and what’s left of the team-” She grows a shade paler but doesn’t say anything. “-as a translator only, would you consider it?” To be honest, they could use her as more, especially with the training she received in Wakanda and her new status as a super soldier, but if her reaction is anything to judge from, the wound is too fresh for her agree to that.

“Yes.” The answer is immediate. His shock must show on his face, because she shrugs and tells him, “I’m out of funds and I don’t have a place to live. If someone offered me a job cleaning toilets, I’d take it.” That’s what gives him the courage to mention the next part.

“Is that your mindset about places to sleep too, because I have a couch that pulls out into a bed.” Her eyebrows shoot up, mouth forming a perfect “oh”. “That is, until you find a place. Or I can contact Natasha and see about renting you a hotel room-”

She shakes her head. “No, you’ve been generous enough. All of you, really. I can manage-”

“I know you can.” He feels bad about interrupting her, but this is going nowhere fast. “I know you can take care of yourself and manage on your own. But you don’t have to.” He almost adds that Bucky wouldn’t want that for her, but decides against it just in time. “If we don’t band together to help each other right now, then Thanos may as well have dusted all of us.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, studying her lap, and he thinks that he’s pushed too far. Then, with a sigh, she nods.

“Fine, but just a warning. I talk in my sleep.”

“Duly noted.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

It’s not been as bad as she thought, living with Steve. He’s an orderly guy, so she’s not picking up after him. He knocks before he enters a room, even if the door is open and gives her space. He doesn’t complain if she uses too much hot water and remembers to put the toilet seat down. If anything isn’t to her liking, all she has to do is mention it, and he immediately augments his behavior. In fact, the only disagreements they’ve had in the month and a half since she moved in have been over who gets the bedroom (he insisted on being a gentlemen and taking the couch, which she absolutely refused; she finally won by telling him that if he forced her to take the bed, she’d pack up her suitcase and leave) and who does the cooking (she said she’d do it and the laundry since she’s basically living in his apartment expense free, he said he’d do it on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays while she did it Sunday, Tuesday, and Thursday, then Saturday would be takeout; he won that one because he actually likes to cook).

They don’t really hang out together, apart from occassionally watching the news. Most of their conversations are banal. How was your day, I did laundry, gas prices have gone up, do you want the shower first. Roommate talk, but just from that she can tell why Bucky liked the guy so much, why they were such good friends (especially once she discovers that sweet, polite Captain America can be a sassy son of a bitch when he wants to be). It’s all very… nice.

And still, since that first day, she hasn’t sat down with him and had a conversation. Not about anything significant that is. He’s tried several times, but she’s shut it down as quickly and politely as possible. She appreciates the effort to be her friend, take care of the brokenhearted girl that remains, but she can’t let it go that far. She knows if she lets him scratch the surface, the floodgates will open, and she’s not prepared for that. She doesn’t want to talk about Bucky. She won’t.

No, they’ll just keep being nice to each other, being agreeable until she’s got a couple of paychecks under her belt and can make a deposit on an apartment and pay him back for his kindness (which is another uphill battle, but she’ll think about that later).

That’s the plan anyway, until after a run, she realizes that it’s gone.

“No.”

She distinctly remembers leaving it on the sofa table in an ashtray that’s there for decoration only. It’s where she leaves everything; her wallet, her key to the apartment, the damn knife she purchased as a scared eighteen year old on the run from her government. But it’s not there.

Maybe it was so loose thanks to her self-inflicted emaciation that it came off while she was wearing it as she slept and it’s between the cracks in the sofa cushions? She rips them away as if they’re a bandage, finding nothing (not even lint, because she had a cleaning fit on yet another sleepless night and vacuumed). Under the couch then. Behind it. Nothing and nothing.

She’s ransacked the entire living room and is intent on moving onto the bathroom when the front door opens.

“What the-” She doesn’t bother looking up, but it doesn’t matter. He’s next to her in three strides. “Are you okay?”

She means to reassure him that she’s fine, just misplaced something, but instead what comes out is,

“It’s gone, Steve.”

“What’s gone?” Even as he speaks, she’s emptying out the trash can to make sure she didn’t acidentally throw it out (her mind’s been all over the place these days).

“My ring.” It’s the last piece she has of him. There’s a few pictures saved to her phone (which she can no longer so much as charge up), and his file which has since been given over to her care, but that’s the last physical thing she has that he left her, the last thing his fingers touched that she can touch too. And it’s gone.

“I can’t believe I lost it. I was being so careful-” She’s babbling, not even making sense to herself at this point. “-and now it’s gone. It’s gone, just like him. Fuck!” She shouldn’t be crying like a child, but there’s nothing she can do about it.

“Language.” Her head snaps up to stare at an embarassed Steve. “Sorry. Force of habit. What I mean is, why don’t I help you look for it?” She nods, and forces herself to take a deep breath.

“It was silver-” vibranium actually, but the color is more easily identifiable. “-with engraving-”

“I know what it looks like.” He interrupts sheepishly. “Trust me. He asked me, “Do you think she’ll like it” about a dozen times in ten minutes before he gave it to you.”

She never knew that, and it sends fresh tears to her eyes.

“And it’s vibranium, in case you didn’t know. Said it needed to be-”

“Strong and adaptable.” She recites back. Same as you. That’s what he told her when he slipped it on her finger, explaining why there wasn’t a stone. She doesn’t feel like either of those things. Not since he went, and she stayed. “I know.”

“Alright.” He nods. “When did you last have it?”

“Before my run. I took it off so I wouldn’t lose it.” She laughs bitterly. So much for that.

“Then you check your bag and the bathroom. I’ll give this room another look and search the kitchen? Sound like a plan?” She’s out of the room without a reply.

The bathroom turns up nothing, and despite upending her backpack, purse, and the pockets of each various piece of clothing, there’s no sign of it. So that’s it then. She’s lost him, down to the final shred.

Starvation, over-exertion, lack of sleep: none of it has taken her down so far, but knowing that it’s over, she can’t even hold onto that little piece of him, is what finally makes her legs give out from underneath her as she collapses in a heap.

She hears his footsteps long before he enters the cramped bathroom, but she doesn’t lift her head. At this point, she’s not even sure if she can. If heartache really can kill a person, she won’t be here for much longer. And, if Steve wants to survey the damage, she won’t stop him. She’s too weak to hide it anymore.

“You haven’t eaten anything today.” It’s not a question, so she doesn’t bother to answer. “Or yesterday. I’m not sure about the day before because it looked like you tried the meatloaf, but you could’ve squirreled it away in your napkin while I wasn’t looking.” He’s right. That’s exactly what she did.

Her eyes are closed, but her enhanced senses let her know the moment he sits down next to her, a respectful distance away, of course.

“You could be suicidal. You could have an eating disorder or another mental illness. Or you could just not care anymore. My bet’s on the last one.” What’s there to care about? She has no family. No friends. She has a job now, sure, but they could easily find another translator.

“You don’t care, and you’re grieving. That’s a dangerous combination. Was when I came out of the ice with everyone I loved either dead or dying, and it still is.”

His hand settles on her shoulder. Just lightly. Not so much a grasp or a pat as an assurance, an “I’m here.”

“You need to talk to someone about it. Maybe not me, but someone. You don’t want to go on, but like it or not, you’re here. You’ve gotta find a way to keep going. Maybe find something like a purpose eventually.” He sighs. “I’m gonna get you a glass of water and I’ll be right back.”

“I miss him.” She’s not sure when she decided to say it, or even if she did. “So much.” Steve doesn’t say anything, so she takes it as a sign to continue. “I know I don’t have any right to say that. You knew him for so much longer than I did, and you’re not falling to pieces. But I feel like half of me has been ripped away, and I don’t know how to live without it.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I’m not even sure I want to.”

He sighs, and she gathers what little strength she has left to apologize. She shouldn’t talk to him about this. That’s like comparing your stubbed toe to the man who’s had his foot amputated. But before she can do any of that, she hears a muffled thump. She should care what it is, but she doesn’t. That is, until she realizes that Steve is now lying on the floor with her.

“Now that we’re both about as low as we can go-” The corners of her lips turn up despite herself. “-I miss him too. A lot. But not the same way you do.” She would assume not. After all, that would be weird. “There’s a girl I miss like that. Her name was Peggy. But, that’s a conversation for another day.

“I’m not gonna tell you it gets better, because it doesn’t. I’m not gonna tell you you’ll move on, because I haven’t. What I’ll tell you is you learn to live with it. Eventually it hurts less to talk about them, or to even think about them. It still hurts, don’t get me wrong, but it’s more good than bad. Sometimes it helps to talk about them with someone else. For me at least, it’s like I’m keeping her alive. But it’s okay if that’s not something you can do right now. When you’re ready, I’ll be more than happy to take a trip down memory lane if you want.” She nods, still not lifting her head. “Okay. I’ll keep my calendar open. Now, I really need to get you that glass of water.”

He’s nearly out the door when she manages to croak out, “Thank you. For being nice to me. It’s good of you to look after your best friend’s…” What is she now? “...old flame.”

“You’re welcome, and just so you know, I’m not doing this because you’re Bucky’s girl. I’m doing this you because I think we could both use a friend right now. A real one.”

It’s only after he leaves the room that she feels something digging into her hip and discovers the ring in her pocket.

___________________________________________________________________________________

It’s convenient, her moving just down the hall from him. Especially since they had that little talk, and now Steve actually considers her a close friend. She’s looking better now, back to eating and drinking. Sleep is still dubious, and over the past few months, he’s woken multiple times to her screams coming from the living room. At first he ran in, thinking there was an intruder. Now he knows to crouch next to the pullout mattress and shake her shoulder until she wakes up. Occassionally there’s tears. Often there’s a midnight conversation about whichever funny memory they can think of to lighten the mood. As she’s come back to herself, bit by bit, he’s starting to see why Bucky was tied up in knots over her. It’s obvious they were good together in a way that can’t be replicated.

The one thing that hasn’t gone by the wayside is her running, and that’s one he’s not going to touch, because he does the same thing. In the morning, they both take off just as the sun is rising (in opposite directions to avoid anymore collisions), and once whoever’s pushing the envelope on how much distance they can really cover is done, they meet up, have breakfast, and start work.

Natasha keeps giving him not-so-subtle hints that he should ask her out, but that’s never gonna happen. Even if you took away the greiving and both of them still being in love with other people, she’s just not his type. He can’t see her as anything but a good friend at the least and an annoying little sister at the most, and he knows the feeling is mutual.

That’s part of the reason why he doesn’t bother knocking before using his key to step into her apartment, a bag full of things she’s left behind in his hands. She’s not in the living room or the kitchen, and even though they lived together for a solid four months, he’s not about to cross his boundaries and go any further into her place without permission. So he takes a seat on the couch (his old one which is now hers because she claims she’s gotten used to the lumps and can’t sleep without them) and waits for her to appear.

A good fifteen minutes pass before he hears footsteps approaching the apartment and the sound of singing. He recognizes the voice immediately because of the times she’d sing in the shower, but the song is unfamiliar. More than likely, she’s still got her earbuds in and hasn’t realized she’s giving a free concert to anyone in earshot.

“Got the sunshine on my shoulders, got a fist full of four-leaf clovers. Yeah, my cup runneth over. My sky is blue.” Cheerful, and a catchy melody. Maybe he’ll ask her the name so he can look it up. You can find any song you like nowadays on one little app.

“Been kissed by lady luck, the stars are all lined up. Every arrow that I aim is true-” The key turns in the lock and he starts to stand. “-but I miss you.” Some pains never completely fade, but at least they’re talking about it. That has to be worth something.

[kat-tamin]

Kat Tamin SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Her love language is quality time and acts of service. She wants to spend time with people doing fun things that love her. She loves those nights where you just sit on the couch and talk for hours about anything and everything. She shows her love by doing things for you, making you coffee or tea, helping you move, picking up groceries for you. She’s the one who will change the lightbulb in your apartment that’s been out since you moved in.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Kat’s an amazing best friend to have, fiercely loyal and kind. She’s the type to come over in the middle of the night if you need her. She’s also super fun to be around, always with a good energy that seems to last forever. She’s good with a girl’s night in or a night out. She can be friends with the boys, talk sports and beer. She’s the type of person who just has an aura of coolness that draws people in like a magnet.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Actual cuddling, like arms around each other, faces pressed together for endless amounts of time isn’t her favourite. Small, short hugs are better. Her version of cuddling is sitting on the couch with your feet in her lap, her hand on your knee. Small touches are infinitely better than full on cuddling.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

She wants to settle down eventually, but she still has time, so she’s in no rush.

Cooking is a no, unless it is very, very simple. She makes a deal with you as soon as you meet that if you do all the cooking, she will do all the dishes. That’s the only thing she’s good at, because the rest of her apartment is a mess. It’s not dirty, just seems full of things that aren’t in the right place.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

In her younger days, it would have been just a text. If you’re in a casual relationship, it still might be just a text. She doesn’t like to see people sad or disappointed. In longer term relationships, she has to make herself see you in person, she knows she owes you at least that. She absolutely hates it if you cry afterwards, because she feels so awkward and doesn’t know what to do.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Marriage is not a must for Kat, but a commitment is. She really doesn’t see the point of just getting a piece of paper to say you will be together forever. If a wedding is something you really want, she can compromise on a courthouse ceremony and then a small reception at a bar or restaurant, with just a few close friends and family members. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Kat can be very soft when she needs to be. She uses techniques that she’s learned from work in emotional situations. In other situations, she might be more of a tough-love, especially to her friends who she thinks needs to hear it. Physically, again she can be. She drops kisses onto your forehead, or a hand brushing against your back as she passes by, but she also doesn’t like prolonged physical touch. 

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

She loves giving hugs to anyone who needs one. She’ll give you a hug when she’s introduced to you. Her favourite hugs are bear hugs, when she sweeps you off your feet, holding you so tight you can’t breathe and you have to laugh. She likes it when you wrap her in your arms, your head in the crook of her shoulder.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Right out of the gate she’ll say things like “God I love you” when you bring her tea or cook her dinner. But when it comes to the big “I love you”, she waits a bit, until you’re in a committed relationship and she actually feels it. You’ll probably end up saying it first, and she’ll get a big smile and say it back, her heart so full.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

She’s not really a jealous person, she trusts you completely. If a random person is hitting on you, she’s more concerned about your feelings of discomfort in the situation. She’ll step in to make you feel more safe, and send them packing.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kat’s kisses are great of course. Soft, sweet kisses that leave you weak in the knees or hard, messy kisses that take your breath away. Her favourite place to kiss you is the top of your head or forehead. It makes her feel connected to you on an emotional level. She likes kisses on her neck or shoulder, even her ear. A smile is instantly on her face, even if it does tickle and make her squirm.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

She’s the eldest child of four, so she does have experience with kids. She’s comfortable with them, and enjoys spending time with younger children. However, she’s more than happy to send them back to their parents at the end of the night. She’s definitely child-free, no interest in being pregnant. Maybe once she’s higher in the ranks, she’ll take in a couple of teenagers having a rough time, but babies are an absolute no.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Kat sets her alarm ridiculously early, even on her days off. She likes to go to the boxing gym before work and get in a workout, or a jog around the park. She loves it when you join her, but understands when you just want to sleep in. Those days, she leaves the coffee pot or kettle on along with a note saying she loves you.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Weeknights after work are all about relaxation. Take out or you cooking dinner and some good old Netflix and chill. Weekends are when Kat goes out, usually dragging you to a new bar or club with her friends. She just wants to be out with people, having as much fun as she can before she has to go to work, where it’s the opposite of fun.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Kat’s a bit of an open book. She tells you straight up what she wants in a relationship so she doesn’t waste time on someone who doesn’t want the same thing. She always tells dates that she’s bi during the first few minutes after meeting, so can weed out the ones who hate it and the creeps who love it.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

She doesn’t really get angry, not at you. When she’s at work, with perps, yes she can get angry quickly. She’s protective over victims, so her feelings are always out in the open. If she does get angry at you, it’s probably not because of you, you just happen to be in the room. She can take out her frustration over cases on you if she’s not careful. She realizes quickly that she crossed a line and says how sorry she is, and what happened that day to make her angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

She’s a detective, so of course she remembers a lot about you. You can talk about a random Aunt and she’ll be like, “the one who lives in Florida with her younger boyfriend you don’t like?”. You don’t even remember you saying half the things she mentions about your life.

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

The day she told you she wants to be your girlfriend. It had been a decision that she’s been mulling over, wondering if she was ready to be with you and only you. But the minute she says it, and you get so happy, she knows she made the right decision. You kiss her and she’s never been happier.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

She works at a job where she sees the worst of the worst, so yeah she’s protective of you. She knows what happens to young people in New York City who aren’t careful. She buys you your first can of mace and shows you basic self-defence skills. She always makes sure to sit between you and randoms on the subway, not afraid to flash her badge if creeps get too close.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

She comes from a home with the motto: It’s the thought that counts. She didn’t grow up with money so she’s uncomfortable with spending huge amounts, especially on things like dates. She’s all about the experience of things, would rather give you concert tickets than jewelry. When it comes to anniversaries, she’ll just take you to your favourite places and give you handmade gifts that remind you of your relationship.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

She’s incredibly stubborn, and doesn’t like to admit when she says or does something wrong. This causes issues, but if you explain carefully about how she hurt you, she’ll apologize sincerely. 

Less seriously, her messy apartment drives you bonkers.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

She likes to look good, but isn’t super vain. She’s careful picking out her wardrobe, wanting to project confidence and a certain image so people can’t judge her. Her makeup and hair are always kept simple, unless it’s a special occasion. She’s most comfortable in her sweats and old t-shirts.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Kat wouldn’t feel incomplete without anyone. She is fiercely independent, a whole woman with her own interests and ambitions. In fact, if you said you felt incomplete without her, she would probably be turned off and end up dumping you.

X = Xtra (A random head canon for them.)

Kat has a mental calendar of every cheap or free event in the city. If you say you’re bored, she has a list of things you could do in that moment. Off-off-off Broadway plays that are terrible, cultural festivals in the park, free art shows at a local college. She reads the flyers that are stuck to light poles and bulletin boards. She’s the only one you know who takes pamphlets that are passed out on the street, advertising something new you could do together.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

She hates neediness. She’s very ambitious, and will always put her job first. If you can’t deal with her ever-changing schedule, you're not the one. If you text her too much, or complain about her not responding, she’s instantly turned off. 

In general, she thinks racists, homophobes, misogynists, TERFs, and Republicans are scum.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

She grew up sharing a bed with her sister, so she always sleeps on her side, curled up small, leaving you lots of room. She’s always cold, so she steals all the blankets. You end up getting your own separate quilt for yourself so you can sleep in peace.

[docholligay]

What hobbies or activities would your OW crew each try and pick up during corona quarantine?

Tracer

Lena is going to try and learn a second language. She took French in school, didn’t she? And didn’t she graduate school? Right! So this should be an absolute walk in the park. French it is. Her first choice was Arabic, as it was, in fact, the prospect of Amari drama that made her embrace the wisdom of being a polyglot in the first place, but Mercy’s gentle suggestion that she start with something a bit closer to home base made her try for French. Arabic could be her third language. 

And it isn’t that Tracer is stupid, so much as she has the full confidence that she can try hard and find success. This has been true so many times in her life, that she was simply the one most dedicated to the outcome, and so she managed to wrench it from the hands of fate. She is quick, and clever, and capable! What’s FRENCH got that she can’t handle. 

Lena, five minutes in: Oh, right, I hated school. 

She tries, god love her, but it just doesn’t hold her attention. She’s trying so hard to write verb forms and study and study, but she doesn’t honestly care much to KNOW French. It reminds her of Amelie, for starters, and that always gives her a little bit of a pit in her stomach, and without Amelie, there seems very little reason to know it. Only one in the house who speaks it is Mercy, really. 

So she takes account of the languages her team knows. 

Hana...Korean, of course, and at least some Japanese, mostly for promotional reasons. Lena takes one look at the Japanese rules of politeness and deference and gently sets the language to the side. She thinks about Korean--Korea’s been so much help since the omnic crisis, and it’s a good thing to converse with your allies--but the daunting aspect of having to ask Hana, who seems not even to know herself whether she likes everyone in the house or not, overcomes her. 

Fareeha, well, that’d be Arabic, and that’s it, so far as Lena knows, and Ang’s already warned her off of that one. Fareeha’s feeling a it pricky about the whole Arabic situation since her mother’s come back, anyhow, and all her workout music has turned to English, and Lena’s not certain why she seems to be blaming the entire Arab world for Ana, but then again, Lena doesn’t understand Fareeha in the best of times. 

Winston, he’d of course help her, but a lot of his knowledge is tied up in Latin and Scholarly Greek, and she’s not sure why anyone would take all the effort when you couldn’t even properly go on holiday. He does know a fair amount of German, she figures, but if she’s going to do that, she may as well go to Ang, and besides all that, Winston dos so much for her. No need to throw in another thing. 

Ana: No. 

Jack: No, but a bit softer. 

Angela seems the natural choice, as she knows so many languages, comparatively. Her father was a linguist of sorts, to hear Ang talk around the edge of it, and so German, French, Italian, Latin, Hebrew, at the least, all come to her quickly and easily. It’s English she likes the least, and she’s better at it than she gives herself credit for, near perfect but for a few stange tenses. It really only Ang who notices. But Angela is, well, Ang, and with all the troubles of the world, she’s lost her mind, a bit. 

So there’s no real help to be had, and Lena buys a few Muzzy tapes in French and learns how to say “I am a young girl” and “I like apples” before deciding that her quarantine time is better spent ensuring that she can actually climb the drain to the roof, jump from the roof into the pool, and other extremely valuable information. No one was hiring her for the language department anyhow. 

Winston

WInston is more used to solitude than the rest of them, and as far as he’s concerned, it’s not really loneliness if Tracer is with him. THough he feels bad for her, and how stir crazy she’s getting. It makes him sad to see her so bored and glum, though she is trying to make cheer of it. 

And so Winston has a genius idea. Tracer LOVES gymnastics, and Winston loves a project. So the idea for the super bounce trampoline is born. 

You cannot tell Winston this is a bad idea. You cannot tell Winston this is a bad idea, because, on some level, he already knows. He knows, but he sees Tracer doing her little cartwheels in the yard, running laps, trying to create little games for herself where she creates time trials around the house, trying to improve on each activity lap. At the time where she breaks three plates trying to see if she can beat her time for table service, it even starts to sound like a GOOD idea. 

He’s fine making little picnic lunches together and watching TV and having her ‘help’ in the lab, but she is becoming despondent with the boredom of it all. It has been ten days. 

And so, he looks at the metals he’s engineered for use in his prosthetic limbs. Couldn’t they also be used to create a spring that would double your strength and energy return of a normal spring? Than Lena could do all kinds of maneuvers on the trampoline, and besides, it’s always important to know the limits of engineering. 

Angela tries to remind him hospitals  are full. 

Dva

The first day of quarantine, Hana Song pops a soda in her pj shorts and says, “It’s a pandemic! Why do we have to improve ourselves? God, isn’t it enough to be alive?” She takes a deep sip. “I’ll do some charity streams, okay?” 

As she’s walking away Tracer asks her if she’ll help paint the upstairs den. Tracer is making little physical projects for herself in varying levels of horror, sometimes while watching the Muzzy tapes to convince herself she hasn’t given up on the bilingual dream. Painting seems tame. Hana stops for a moment, then agrees. 

She is the only reasonable person in this house. 

Mercy

Angela is in a panic. The entire world seems to be crumbling at her feet, and though she is no epidemiologist, she knows that none of this is good. She wants to go. Pharah begs her to stay. She is afraid for Angela. To put her in some ICU where she could get the illness, where it could be, as such, that Fareeha would not be able to come to her. She understands Angela’s need to help, but also, she says, what if something happened to you? You are the only doctor with any real knowledge of Tracer. What would be come of her. 

Angela only looks at her for a moment before her face darkens, and Fareeha shakes her head, ashamed. “I was using Tracer to excuse my own fears. I am selfish. You should go.” 

And in that moment, Angela does not leave not because she is the only physician who can properly work with Tracer’s condition, but for the great love of Fareeha Amari, who for the first time since Angela has known her, is truly afraid. 

The days pass with difficulty. She is writing guidelines and ideas to anyone she can, coordinating donations and writing out thank yous and pleas, sitting in the bay window of their bedroom as the sleeting snow and rain fall against the window one bleak afternoon. The sun and storm come in patches, she’s noticed, but the grey seems to speak to her most all. 

Fareeha comes to her one day. She has a mug filled with hot chocolate and whipped cream and brandy and love. She gently places her hand on Angela’s knee. 

“I hear you crying in the night,” she says, though she cannot look to Angela’s face, “You should go. You must go.” 

She loves Fareeha so very much. 

She goes. 

Pharah

Which immediately drives the sort of disconnected and floating morass of ennui that is the Overwatch household into Von Trapp style whistle blowing order. 

Pharah’s project, you see, is everyone else. 

Fareeha is a lovely person in most respects, all of them would say in one way or another, but she has certain control issues, and these never become more pronounced than when her life seems, well, out of control. 

No more laying about. There is a kitchen to be reorganized, there are drills to be done, when was the last time you lifted? There is a color coded schedule posted in the kitchen and we should all take note of the way Fareeha has scheduled our time. Tracer balks, of course, that she’s the leader as well, and Fareeha has a terrible habit of assuming that it’s her who’s the leader entire and complete, and you know what else--

Winston pulls them apart. Neither of them, he tries to say, are actually angry with each other. He shakes when he says it. 

And so Pharah tries. God love her, she tries SO HARD. She improves herself, and tries to let others be. She reorganizes the entire kitchen. She labels every bulk container, She scrubs every floor in the house to a gleaming shine. Her clothes, and Angela’s all washed and organized by sshade and season. 

One night Lena comes downstairs and sees her looking out the window, drinking a Labatt, rubbing at her wedding ring. Lena wouldn’t embarrass her by asking, but her eyes seem to beglistening, jsut a bit. 

The next morning, all three of the rest of the OVerwatch team are lined up, at the bottom of the stairs, at 6 am sharp. 

It’s true that Fareeha takes herself on three hour runs across the prairie in all weathers to give everyone some down time where they don’t have to be doing anything, but they broker a sort of peace wherein they spend a certain amount of time doing Fareeha Amari’s Twelve Point Improvement Plan every day, and time doing their own thing, and Fareeha seems genuinely cheered to be plotting out their workout and meal plans, their online seminars to listen to. She and Lena even watch a few Muzzy tapes together. 

She even forgives Tracer when the first test of Winston’s trampoline finds Lena sailing through Pharah’s (Thankfully open) bedroom window. 

Ana and Jack:

 They spend all of quarantine watching 90 Day Fiancee and eating TV dinners.

[geronimo-11]

john & casey for the ship thing? :3

Of course! Thank you so much for asking! :)

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

-Casey met John when she went in to work a shift at the Spread Eagle one night. He had been sending offers to buy her family’s house to her mother, who has early onset Alzheimers, and eventually started sending men over when he didn't get a response. He - unintentionally - scared Casey's mother to death and it pissed. Her. Off. So, when Mary-May told her who he was, Casey walked over to him and made sure he knew he and his men were entirely unwelcome at their house.

What was their first impression of each other?

-Casey thought John was a cocky jackass. John thought Casey was attractive, but also bold, stubborn, and even a bit naive.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

-Yes and no. None of Casey's friends in the Resistance wanted them to get together. They knew that the two of them had had some weird fling before everything went to shit, but they all assumed Casey had put it behind her after Joseph's arrest. Jacob was against their relationship from the beginning. He didn’t want John and Casey involved in something that would end up in them both getting hurt. It would piss him off and break Joanna's heart. Joseph was a little too eager for Casey and John to get together. He knew there was something special about this new Deputy, and after his vision about John's death he was absolutely on board with his little brother being with someone who could love him and teach him how to love. Joanna didn't know anything about their relationship until Casey told her after the Reaping had started, and she was too shocked to really have an opinion.

Who felt romantic feelings first?

-John. He felt the first pull of attraction when she yelled at him in the Spread Eagle, and at first he just wanted to sleep with her. It's not until they get to know each other better that he realizes he may be feeling something more.

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

-Casey does, because she has so many hang-ups about relationships in the first place, but also because of how complicated their relationship becomes after she tries to arrest his brother. She knows he's doing horrible things and that she shouldn't feel the way she does about him, but she also can't help it, either. John wants them to be together from the first instant Casey hints she may like him more than she originally let on, and he's very persistent about it.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think?

-Casey would probably groan and complain about how of course her soulmate would be the greasiest, cockiest bastard to ever set foot in Montana. "He's probably grinning about it right now. Smug son of a bitch." John would probably be more accepting. He would probably be more intrigued at the fact he has a soulmate in the first place than who it is. The Duncan's told him he was too full of sin for God to ever give him something as sacred as a soulmate, so he's certainly not going to let her slip away now.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

-I would say John, because he initiated all of their flirting, but Casey's the one who finally caves and says "okay yeah let's do this". They weren't public about their relationship, it mainly consisted of Casey spending nights and weekends at John's ranch and the two of them meeting in town by "coincidence" and having lunch or dinner together. Casey knows how quickly gossip in a small town spreads, and if their relationship didn't work out she didn't want there to be too much talk about how or why it ended. For the most part their relationship went pretty well. Casey was impressed with how easily John handled all of her shit, and when he stuck around she found herself opening up to him more and more. They had a bit of a falling out when she decided to leave for training so she could apply to the Sheriff's Department, and when she comes back and sees what Eden's Gate has done to the county, she knows for sure there's no way they can just pick up where they left off.

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

-They don't technically have an "official" first date. John kind of corners Casey at the Spread Eagle one night -- she's not working, just hanging out -- and buys her dinner and a drink. It's the first night where they both sort of let their guard down and just talk.

What was their first kiss like?

-Intense, a little sloppy, and unexpected. It's during the Testy Festy and there's music playing, and Casey may have had one bourbon too many when she spots John trying to make his way through the mayhem. So she drags him over to dance. It's in the midst of trying to get John to actually dance with her that she realizes how blue his eyes are and hey, ya know what, he's actually really attractive, and she just... goes for it. It's a lot of pent up attraction mixed with alcohol.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)? 

-I feel like Casey is probably John's first love. I don't think he ever dated when he was in high school, the Duncan's probably strongly discouraged anything that could possibly lead to sin, and after they died he never really wanted a relationship. Just fling after fling to try and fill the void. Casey is the first person he ever takes the time to get to know, and let's get to know him, outside of his brothers.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

-Casey is about 5'6", John is around 5'10", and there's a six year age gap between them (Casey is 27 and John is 32).

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

-John never really gets to know Casey's mother that well, and she probably wouldn't remember him if he tried. He has a strained relationship with Joanna. Since Jacob and Joseph have both talked about her a lot, he knows she took care of him and his brothers when they were little, but he was too young to remember any of that. All he knows is that to him, at least, she's a stranger. And she's a stranger who is trying to get too close, too fast.

Casey finds Joseph creepy, and has little desire to get to know him any better than she already does -- no matter what Joanna and John tell her. At first, she has a mutual respect for Jacob. She's not crazy about him and they've never had a conversation long enough for her to form a solid opinion, but he cares about Joanna and that means a lot to her. After she's spent some time going through his trials, though, it's a different story. She hates how smug and superior he sounds, and she'd love nothing better than to punch him in his stupid ginger face. As for Faith, Casey likes her most out of all of John's siblings. Maybe it's the fact they're not really related.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

-John, but Casey doesn't mind. She'd rather not deal with it in the first place, and he's a naturally social person, so it works out.

Who gets jealous easier?

-This would have to be John, again. Like I said, Casey is the first person outside of his brothers that he's willingly let get close. When he sees her with other people he gets scared she'll find someone else and he'll get left behind.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

-John did. It's after Joseph's arrest and Casey goes to his ranch to tell him off, and as he's trying to convince her to stay it just slips out.

What are their primary love languages?

-John: Physical touch, words of affirmation, receiving gifts -Casey: Words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

-They don't cuddle very often because Casey just can't sit still long enough. She also isn't big on physical touch, which is one of John's top three love languages and a source of many arguments discussions. She’s not totally against touch ever, just not all the time. However, if she's had enough to drink or she's just in the mood, Casey has no problem with a little PDA. Especially after everyone finds out they're together, she has a habit of just grabbing John and kissing him wherever they are if she's feeling it. John doesn't complain, but other people do.

What are their favorite things to do together?

-They love to spend time in John's hangar, music playing in the background, Casey working on her bike and John working on his plane. They'll spend hours in there just talking.

Who’s better at comforting the other?

-Neither of them are very good at comforting people, but they both make an effort to be there when they know the other is having a particularly hard day. Casey tends to ramble and stroke John's hair/hug him in order to distract him, and John will sit and listen while Casey vents about whatever is bothering her.

Who’s more protective?

-I'd say they're pretty equal. Neither of them have a problem with acting on their emotions (John is more calculated but still prone to emotional outbursts as we've seen) and if they think the other is in physical danger, or even being disrespected, they're quick to step in.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

-Casey prefers verbal affection while John prefers physical. They try and make sure the other feels wanted and loved regardless, but sometimes it's hard when John wants to cuddle and Casey just wants to talk.

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

-I also have a playlist for them as well, so I'll try and stick to my top five songs from their playlist:

No Light, No Light by Florence + the Machine

Bitter Water by The Oh Hellos

It Will Come Back by Hozier

War of Hearts by Ruelle

Take Me to Church by Hozier

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

-John uses the typical ones "My dear" and "Darling", but Casey doesn't really use nicknames. She might say "babe" or something, but she'll usually just call John by name.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

-John proposes in the bunker. They didn't have much in the way of rings, but after dinner in their room one night he just got down on one knee and asked her.

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

-I don't even know if it could be considered a wedding, really. More a celebration with a very, very small ceremony. They have Joseph marry them, and Jacob, Joanna, and Faith are in attendance, but that's it.

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

-They have one daughter named after Casey's mother, Marian "Mari" Seed. She's a bit of a spitfire and a daredevil like her mother, much to John's dismay, but she's more calculated about her actions, like John. Which, honestly, probably makes her stunts more dangerous than Casey's.

Do they have any pets?

-Pre-collapse Casey counted Boomer as hers. Post-collapse she just sort of feeds and takes care of whatever friendly animals come to their house, which drives John up the wall. He's not really a pet person.

Who’s the stricter parent?

-John, but only by a hair. It's mostly because he's trying to keep Mari from getting hurt or killing herself, and Casey's busy cheering on whatever stunt her daughter has come up with from the sideline. Any other time it's usually Casey.

Who kills the bugs in the house?

-Both of them, neither are really bothered by bugs.

How do they celebrate holidays?

-I'm just going to assume the rest of these will be happening post-collapse, so they celebrate as well as they can. Casey tries to scrounge together decorations, because holidays are important to her and John's never really had good experiences with holidays, and now they have Mari to think about. She does her best, with Joanna's help, to make every holiday at least a little fun.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

-John. He's not the type to sleep until noon, but Casey gets up too early in his opinion. Sometimes he just wants to lay in bed for a while and hold his wife, but it takes an awful lot of coaxing to do so.

Who’s the better cook?

-John, again. Not that Casey can't cook, John just happens to be better at it. She's more than willing to let him take the reigns, though.

[alternativewinxcontinuity]

Bloom Peters in: The Haunted Mansion of Mirrors.

A test of courage goes wrong and Bloom finds herself in over her head when the house turns out to actually be haunted after all.

Genre: horror, mystery, AU (but in a canon divergence way) Characters: Bloom, Kiko, OC Witch, OC Wizard, Mitzi, Andy Warnings: mentions of blood, general horror elements, dangerous bike riding etiquette Word Count: 2,679

This story is in summary format.

Bloom Peters in: The Haunted Mansion of Mirrors.

-

In an Alternate Universe where the Trix didn't manage to waylay Stella on her way to Alfea, Bloom spends part of her summer miserable until she winds up running into her ex and his friends at a local juice bar at the same time as Mitzi.

Mizti is in the middle of telling her friends about a story she'd heard from someone who'd been working for her parents, who've decided to try their hand at house flipping. (Mitzi presents it as a 'hobby' like buying, renovating and selling houses is normal and just for funsies when you're 'as rich as her parents'.)

The story she relays is about an old manor on the edge of Gardenia which has been vacant for decades after the whole family was mysteriously murdered.

“Which is why the house is, like, super haunted.”

Bloom doesn't care for ghost stories and scoffs at the idea, but not quietly enough. Mitzi jumps at the chance to call Bloom a coward and say she wouldn't last a minute in the house before she'd run screaming for her parents.

Bloom denies the accusation and says if anyone were to run away scared, it would be Mitzi.

Before anyone else can think better of it, the group is caught up in the idea, and suddenly making plans to stay the night in the 'haunted' manor.

Bloom guiltily tells her parent she's going to a sleep over (with Selina, who's not actually back from her vacation yet, but her parents don't know that) and prepares supplies.

Not trusting Mitzi to not try something, Bloom prepares to stay awake all night long.

She packs her good flashlight, the heavy duty one she got for camping, some jerky type snacks and two bottles of water, a note book and pens for doodling (including several colours because boredom), and she makes sure her cell phone is fully charged.

Of course she takes a blanket and sleeping bag and pillow and sleep over snacks, because they're supposed to be staying all night, but she makes Kiko stay home, because taking him is sure to end badly.

(He stows away in her bag and doesn't reveal himself until she arrives at the house.)

Bloom rides her new bike, leaving super early to make it on time. Luckily she manages to cross paths with some of the other group members as they're leaving the city limits, and Bloom illegally and unsafely by hanging onto the care (with permission) and they drive the last stretch to the manor. Mitzi is already waiting for them at the gates with the rest of the group and lets Bloom and the others in.

Straight away Bloom gets some seriously bad vibes, the kind that make her skin prickle with icy needles and make her want to puke and run. When the pull up in front of the house in the spacious driveway area, Bloom almost refuses to get off her bike.

But Mitzi calls Bloom a coward who couldn't even make it into the house, and Bloom's pride gets the better of her. Andy tries to comfort Bloom, but she just can't shake the feeling of wrongness in the house.

As the group enters (Mitzi opening the house with a set of keys she didn't actually ask her parents permission to borrow,) Bloom notices some strange carvings in the wood of the houses porch, etchings that seem to buzz in Bloom's perception of the world, but Andy says he can't feel anything, so Bloom tells herself that she's just psyching herself out and tries to shrug it off, ignore the voice inside her screaming warning after warning as it waves red flags.

The group has enough time to set themselves up in the 'living room' of the manor's ground floor before the sun goes down. They're just about to start playing cards when Kiko reveals himself, in clear distress.

Bloom says she'll take Kiko outside to use the bathroom, angrily snapping at Mitzi when the later sneers that Bloom is “running away already,” since Bloom isn't running away, she's being a responsible pet owner.

Only the door at the front of the house won't open, even when Mitzi tries the keys.

Andy and friends offer to try and find an open window for Bloom to get out through so she can deal with Kiko's 'over excitement', but Bloom feels a sudden panic at the idea of splitting up.

She can't explain it, but she feels like the pressure inside the house is increasing even though no one else can sense anything, and Kiko keeps getting more stressed.

Right before the pressure peaks, Bloom sees a blood covered woman who isn't in the room in the mirror over the living room's fireplace mantle, she looks to be screaming “GET OUT” and Bloom spins to shield Kiko as the mirror explodes outwards. She ducks down to make herself as small a target as possible for the shards and tries not to hurl as the entire world feels like it's dividing itself apart.

Bloom hears the others scream, but then everything goes quiet as the pressure and dividing sensation stops.

Bloom looks up surprised, and sees a glowing sphere of energy dissipate around her, the rest of the room empty and the mirror intact.

The group's supplies are where they'd been seconds before, but there's no sign of the group itself.

In the mirror Bloom can see herself reflected, Kiko in her arms and the strange woman behind her.

Bloom freezes, scared, she realises the woman is saying something, but she can only make out two of the words:

“ ? ? Get ? Out”

Slowly Bloom turns, but the room behind her is empty, and when she turns back, so is the mirror. Scared and feeling so out of her depth Bloom gathers her things, and wishes she'd brought her baseball bat.

Kiko seems scared but far less distressed than before, so Bloom makes a choice: she needs to figure out what happened to her schoolmates (and ex boyfriend), and if some freaky blood covered lady in a mirror thinks Bloom is going to run away and leave them to whatever horrible fate she's got in store for them, then that lady is about to find out just how wrong she is!

Bloom and Kiko move further into the house, slowly going through the rooms looking for any kind of clue.

They don't find anything, except the former owners maybe had a mirror fetish, but Bloom manages to sketch out a rough map in her notebook and noticed some strange wall thicknesses.

Then through the house comes the sound of a mirror breaking, and Bloom and Kiko go to investigate.

A mirror in one of the old bedrooms had a crack that is slowly repairing itself, and on the floor, where there hadn't been earlier, lies a note.

The words are written in reverse but Bloom can figure them out easily:

In the white fire place, to the blue seashells

The house is large enough for three fireplaces, one made of white marble, one made of black, and one made of red brick, so figuring out which one the note is about is easy enough.

The duo go to investigate. It takes a little while, but Kiko hops into the fireplace itself and finds a loose plate of thick ceramic at the back, coloured to look like the marble around it.

The move the fake stone and reveal a small compartment with a little chest inside.

There's no key hole but it seems to be locked, until Bloom gets frustrated enough to say “open damn you” out loud to it, and the lid pops open.

Inside she finds a small compact mirror, an enamelled seashell, and a note written in a language she feels like she should be able to read.

Not sure what do with their discovery, the pair head upstairs to the room with the mirror that has a frame of blue seashells, certain that's what the note's second half was about. Once there Bloom quickly realises the enamelled seashell from the chest fits into an indent at the top of the mirror's frame.

Not sure how it will help, but out of ideas on how to find her friends, Bloom presses the enamelled shell into place, a spark of energy dances around her fingers and the compact mirror seems to hum. When she grabs the compact the sparkle of energy surged into it and a small blue shell appears on the compact's casing. As Bloom holds it close to the mirror, the surface distorts and Bloom realises there is now a room beyond the mirror.

Stealing themselves, Bloom and Kiko step through the mirror.

Across the next several hours, Bloom and Kiko traverse various warped versions of the manor (all accessed through different mirrors in the (different) house(s) like the blue seashell framed mirror) to find 'dolls' of Bloom's missing schoolmates. The house(s are)is riddled with various traps, almost like puzzles, but is leaving notes and clues and snippets of a story.

Bloom finds herself glad that Kiko stowed away as he's able to get into spaces she can't and retrieve objects she needs. She feels like she's in a puzzle based horror game, or a haunted escape room, but it feels almost as if there are two separate builders.

She finally gets the idea to try holding the note from the fireplace box up to a mirror, and even though the language isn't English, Bloom can read the note just fine.

And Bloom slowly begins to realise the blood covered woman isn't trying to stop Bloom, she's trying to help her. (she didn't say “get out!” she said “can you get them out?!”)

The note from the box tells her what she's walked into the middle of:

A witch with a strange power over mirrors, a wizard who found immortality and was corrupted by evil, a request by the legendary wizard Merlin to guard the corrupted wizard's prison until a way to kill him could be found.

The box note was a warning she didn't read until too late, warning against entering the mirror worlds, but it is centuries old, something has h since it was written.

Luckily, notes from the mirrors, from the witch, Bloom realises, fill in the rest:

A crack in the prison when an occult ritual decades prior had almost wrenched the witch out of the mirror, a crack that widened as she found herself bound to answer an inane summoning ritual, pulled to the mirrors of so many houses the prisoner was able to slip some of his power past the wards and infect the inhabitants of the house.

As Bloom gets closer to her goal, she is plagued by the ghostly and corrupted remnants of the wizard's previous victims, and realises the wizards influence is over taking the witch's, and it might be Bloom's fault. The wizard's puzzles and traps had been holding her friends hostage while the witch's blocked the way between the worlds within the mirror. In order to rescue her friends who'd been pulled into the mirror world prison, Bloom had slowly been undoing the outer layers of protection which kept the wizard trapped.

So Bloom sets out to make things right and finds herself deep inside the world of the mirrors where she come face to face with the witch at last.

The woman introduces herself as Mary, Witch of Mirrors and Liminal Spaces, the keeper of the mirror worlds.

Now that they can talk face to face, Mary is able to explain that Bloom protected herself against the wizard's powers with her own magic. (Which is why her friends had any hope of rescue, the compact mirror Bloom's been using to pass between worlds is the only way to unlock the door out of the mirror worlds.)

Over Bloom's protests, Mary tells Bloom that she holds an immense magic within herself that has lain dormant for most of her life, but it might be able to trap the wizard once more.

But they'll have to start from ground zero, all the way in.

As they travel, (bypassing traps designed to kill Mary and tear the prison apart without it's maker to repair it,) Mary explains the history of the wizard, Cocytus, one of a Circle of 5 incredibly powerful magical users who'd gained a form of immortality by perverting the power of the One Who Created the Universe, The Great Dragon.

Ironically, Phlegethon, the Fairy who'd been responsible for the perversion of power and the last member of the Circle left standing, had been the only member of the Circle that had been killed, somehow struck down by her own sister. The other four members had been sealed away before that, hidden in various Artefacts meant to trap them for eternity, but there was no perfect prison.

The small group of three manages to make it to the inner most part of the prison, and there they face off against Cocytus, who for a few moments inexplicably seems to think Bloom is the deceased Phlegethon who's tricked her way to the depths of the prison to free him.

Then he realises she's not when Bloom begins to help Mary layer in new prison wards, and in his rage (at being 'tricked', and since the prison is at its weakest) manages to break free for revenge.

Mary and Bloom do their best, even Kiko lending what aid he can in the form of ankle biting and splinter throwing, but they almost loose until Bloom experiences an almost out-of-body moment.

She hears an ancient and powerful roar, feels gentle arms around her even as an inferno of strength rages through her.

She finds herself transformed.

A presence at the back of her mind helps her, teaches her what to do and Bloom unleashes the Wrath of The Dragon upon Cocytus, stripping him of his unearned Spark of immortality and allowing Mary to finish him off once and for all.

In the aftermath, Bloom makes sure her missing schoolmates are unharmed, and Mary walks her out of the mirror world.

At the final doorway, Bloom realises Mary isn't coming with her, even though her task is over. Mary explains that she's covered in blood for a reason, she'd sustained mortal injuries in the normal world, and if she leaves the mirror she'll likely die without immediate magi-medical attention which Bloom doesn't have the knowledge or skills to provide.

But she tells Bloom to keep the compact, because Mary can go wherever it goes, since it's actually an ancient Artefact of her power.

Bloom hugs the woman goodbye, and she and Kiko leave the mirror world at last, heading downstairs to fix the formerly missing group before the sun rises.

The group wakes with the sense that something horrific had happened, but none of them remember what beyond vague nightmare like impressions, and they can't explain why Bloom looks so tired yet satisfied, but they all just want to get out of the house and are relieved to find the door is no longer (magically) locked.

Back at home Bloom comes clean to her parents about her adventure, and Mike and Vanessa come clean about the circumstances around Bloom's adoption.

Mary is able to fill in some gaps for them where the Magical Dimension is concerned, speaking through the compact mirror after being summoned by Bloom.

(Three calls of “Bloody Mary” and an aggravated witch appeared in the glass with a huff and a “really?”)

Bloom is grounded for a few weeks, but she takes that time to learn some things from Mary, though Mary is a witch, not a fairy and thus can't teach Bloom everything she needs to know about magic.

In the wake of her adventure, since she has no way to contact let alone explore the Magical Dimension, Bloom wonders about other haunted houses and 'cursed' places around the world, and once her grounding is up, she convinces her parents to let her go tour a few haunted places.

She runs into a few more cases of actual magic, but with Mary's help and her own growing skills, Bloom manages to become her generations top paranormal investigator and exorcist.

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Come Into the Water (13/15)

Olivia is at work with Noah, but Maggie is home. She’s slowly stirring the pot on the stove and humming to herself when Sarah lets herself in, and turns around unstartled with a smile at the sound of the unlocked door creaking open on its unoiled hinges. Sarah’s been meaning to buy WD-40 for them- it’s the least she can do after everything they’ve done for her.

“The missus and Noah will be back soon,” Maggie says, “hopefully while the food is still hot.”

For some reason, Sarah can’t come up with a verbal response, so she just nods and takes a seat at the counter. Remnants of flour from hours of baking still powder the surface, meaning it hasn’t been wiped down since they finished baking yesterday. She should clean it up so that she’s doing something, but instead she drags her fingers through the mess tiredly and watches Maggie cook. Maggie’s less talkative than Olivia, but warm and loving nonetheless. She wishes she knew what to say or do, how to explain to them that Ava doesn’t intend to keep seeing them now that the holiday is over and the warmth feels gone from the air. 

She’s still making patterns in the flour when Olivia and Noah come in the front door, talking about wherever they were. Sarah doesn’t listen. Her mind has managed to trap itself in the events of early morning. When Olivia inevitably touches her shoulder as a means of getting her attention, she flinches, her breath catching and her muscles tensing. She’s been trying to stop doing that. 

“Everything okay?”

Truly, she doesn’t mean to say anything. But the words just come.

“Ava doesn’t want to keep seeing us. You. Us. I don’t know.”

The response Olivia gives is the one she expected the least; solid arms wrap around her, with a hand coming to cup the back of her head, and she’s being held like someone worth caring about as opposed to being chastised or held accountable for something that isn’t her fault, or at least not on the whole. Sarah relaxes easily into the embrace, stays for as long as Olivia holds her and fills her lungs properly when she’s released.

“Hopefully she’ll come around.”

Sarah watches the family orbit around one another. Noah pulls at Maggie’s shirt until she picks him up to balance on her hip, and Olivia comes up behind her to kiss her temple and take a turn at stirring dinner on the stove. Always so familiar with each other, and while Sarah has started to feel as though she fits into it all, she realizes in this moment that she doesn’t in the way they each fit into each other. 

Maybe that’s how Ava feels, and why she doesn’t want to be around them.

Nonetheless, Sarah forces herself to her feet and goes to the fridge to cut fruit to round out the meal. An apple, maybe, to cut the warmth of the spaghetti sauce, but then she recalls what they’ve been eating for the past eight days and moves onto a couple oranges. Easy, simple, doable. She gets the good knife from the block to slice them up and arrange them on the plates Olivia has just begun to set out. There’s bread, too, and a portion of roasted vegetables that must’ve come from the oven. A colorful plate. 

As she throws away the peels and the center clumps of pulp, Sarah absentmindedly scratches at her wrist. The grounding sensation prickles through her body, slow and steady, forcing her into reality and out of her mind, which has tangled itself into a mess of confusion and hurt and memory.

“Do you worry about Ava?” she asks. “When you don’t get to see her?”

Maggie’s arm around Noah twitches. “Of course. But we can’t force it. She needs her time, if the last few years are any indication.”

It makes sense. But it hurts. And Sarah doesn’t say anything else while they all eat dinner, just eats slowly and pretends she fits in the way she felt she did during Hanukkah. Things are different away from the beach and the lights, and without Ava to round things out. So once she eats and helps wash the dishes, she just goes back home and lays across the couch with her arm thrown over her eyes. She’s still thinking about Ava. About her sudden hostility and isolation and the knowledge that, for some reason or another, the local mako pod won’t stop hurting her. It hurts her. And she wishes, more than anything that there was something she could do.

She wishes she could sink into sleep as opposed to laying here and agonizing, but her mind won’t allow it. She keeps seeing the gashes and scars that dot along Ava’s body. Marks of being hurt by the world outside of her, so opposite to the pain Sarah has been causing herself for so long without meaning to. The scratches on her arm are from her own hand. It’s the same but also different. Sarah catches herself adding to the pain now and forces her hand down. She’s been doing better lately, enough that she’s stopped with the protective bandaging, but suddenly it feels like she’s back to the place she started when she first arrived at this house. Recovery feels out of reach again.

All she wants to do is go to the beach and swim with Ava. Feel the water, lose herself in the spray of salt. It made her feel more alive. And the only time she’s ever ventured out on her own, she nearly drowned. It wasn’t as fun by herself anyways.

Sarah knows she should stay in for once, especially given Ava’s cold dismissal, but she can’t help herself. Before she knows it, she’s going down to the tide pools in spite of the cold, wading into the icy waves and staring out at a long horizon in hopes of being found and given the opportunity to lose herself to the ocean without fear. Deep down, she knows she’s still searching for Ava. A flash of her tail, a glimpse of her coat, anything to indicate that she hasn’t given up on Sarah the way she gave up on her family.

“Ava,” she begs the churning water. “Ava, please?”

Fins break surface, only for a moment, and then disappear. But they do not belong to Ava. Instead, they’re grey and stiff, more for cutting through the waves than for agile control of motion. Sarah steps forward anyways because she feels alone and wants someone to hold her in the water. She waits, then, with foam at her ankles and the wind whipping her cheeks, until the fins slip down and then up come faces. Not tanned like Ava, but pale and sallow with hollowed cheekbones and eyes consumed by the pupils. They remind Sarah of something from a horror film, but she isn’t afraid because they come from the same place Ava does. At the same time, however, she has a dim awareness that they must be from the pod which hurts her.

“My name is Sarah,” she says softly. “What are your names?”

The three mermaids stare for a long moment. One of them, the woman with brunette locks and a square jaw, tilts her head to the side. The other two, both dark haired men who cling to each other, do not move. But they too watch her carefully. 

“Do you have names?”

The woman clucks her tongue, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and makes a series of sharpened clicking noises for a handful of seconds. It must be their real language, and Sarah wonders if maybe Ava has a real language beyond the English she must have picked up from Olivia and Maggie. 

“English?”

One of the men lunges forward, and Sarah hurries back up to the gritty sand and out of their reach. Unlike Ava, they don’t seem keen on the shallows, let alone sitting beyond where the waves can dig into the beach. They don’t say anything, but still they watch. Sarah remembers the very young one that bit her, and imagines the way adults like these could seriously hurt her. And could hurt Ava, worse than they already have.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- to upset you.”

They still don’t speak to her. But a large wave, a heavy one, rolls over, high enough to dance at the pads of her feet, covering the mermaids’ heads in its path. When the water recedes, they’re gone.

Alone once more, burning with embarrassment, Sarah settles into the sand and sits there to watch the ocean roll in and out, in and out, in and out. The tide rises and falls too, and still she sits, until the sun sets deep and a dusting of snow falls and her nose is cold enough to hurt. Still, she sits. She digs her nails into her forearm. She waits for Ava with a bittersweet hope.

Only when her chest hurts from how cold the air is does she force herself to her feet.

[chipped-pixel]

Couple Interview Tag by @shysimblr. Rules: 'Answer the questions from your OC otp's point of view and tag as many people as you want. You can do as many couples as you want, it could be an otp you intend to get together but hasn't got together yet or whatever haha... I'm just nosy and wanna know about your oc's, so tag me if you want! You can be as creative as you want, make a story out of it, whatever, do it however you want just answer the questions simply it's up to you!!'

1. How did you two meet? Brooke- "ooh my favorite question!" Tonya- "well I was making a statue for the dance studio she practices at." Brooke- "all the dancers had to go to the unveiling and there was a little party afterwards. I was still pretty new to this studio so I didn't know anyone. So I grabbed a drink and a few snacks on a plate and sat in the corner on my phone." Tonya- "I saw her from across the yard and I couldn't stop staring. So I went over and introduced myself. Brooke- " I was so shocked that such a beautiful woman was at my table and I got like so nervous..." Tonya- "She went to shake my hand and spilled her drink on me and well the rest is history."

2. Who is the most jealous of you two? Tonya- "Oh me for sure. If I see someone flirting with Brooke or staring at her.. I like to grab her ass and glare the other person down till they back off." Brooke- "She almost puched a guy at one of my performances because he was hitting on me afterwards." Tonya- "happily would have knocked his teeth out.."

3. What are your three favorite physical things about your partner? Brooke- "Ooooh good question! Its so silly but the way her hands feel after she's done working on a new sculpture. They're all rough and have calaces on them. hmm. Oh her smile. It melts me every time. Lastly.. I think id have to say her upper arms. They're so tone and strong." Tonya "easy. The small of her back right above her butt. It has a nice little curve to her that my hands fit perfectly in. Her little button nose. Finally...her Ass..." Brooke- "Tonya!" Tonya- "what? Its nice and round and easily squeezable!"

4. Who's more likely to be running late? Brooke- 'Tonya. 100%" Tonya- "ya because you take forever to get ready and I fall asleep waiting then I have to get ready."

5. Who is the most organized and who is the messiest? Brooke "Tonya is so messy! I always have to clean up after her. Especially in the kitchen!" Tonya - "mess is good for the soul."

6. Who is the bigger flirt? (flirts the most?) Brooke- "Tonya. she's always being flirty with me." Tonya "that's because I can't help myself you blush so easy. Besides how else am I gonna keep you if I don't tell you?"

7. Who does the most cooking? Brooke- "I do? It really depends week to week. If I have ballet practice or a performance then Tonya cooks more for me because I'm too tired and sore." Tonya- "if I'm doing a lot of work and my arms are sore then she makes me food because I can't do much. she's a great cook by the way. She makes this amazing Korean rice and meat bowl. Its like the perfect comfort dish."

8. How do you feel about kids and do you want them? If so how many?

Brooke- "hmm like 100.  Like right now." Tonya- "What she means is maybe like 3 or 4." Brooke- "I want to be a mommy so bad! I can't wait to have them. That is if Tonya ever puts a ring on it...." Tonya- "we can't start any processes till after we get married." Brooke- "we've already decided ill carry. Unless I can't. Then Tonya will try."

9. Who wears the pants in the relationship? Brooke- "oh Tonya 100%. I love when she's in charge of everything. When she opens doors for me. orders my food for me. pays for me. It makes me swoon." Tonya- "I like to think of myself as the more... Masculine one because I am I guess? I was raised to respect my partner and treat them with love and affection. So I spoil her. I take care of her because she's my whole world ya know? If that means wearing the pants and making her feel cared for then I don't see the problem with that."

10. What's your partner's least favorite housework task? Brooke- " she hates dishes. like she will buy paper plates and plastic silverware to avoid doing dishes. I don't mind though. Its relaxing. Tonya- "Brooke... Doesn't really not like housework? I mean... If I had to say id say cleaning the bathroom? She loves chores like the weirdo she is."

11. What was the first thing you noticed about each other? Tonya- " her stunning eyes against her pale skin. I don't know what it was but I saw her eyes and it took my breath away. Brooke- "the way she carried herself. With such confidence and so self assured. It was what made me so nervous when she sat at my table."

12. What does your partner do that pisses you off? Brooke- "how much time do you have?" Tonya- "I'm not that bad" Brooke "I hate ASMR. It makes my uncomfortable. So she'll do those nasty mouth noises in my ear. She loves to embarrass me in the store. She'll walk away only to come back and say something like 'hey wanna go do some gay stuff?' LOUDLY IN FRONT of people while grabbing my butt! or She'll grab underwear and be like "ooh these would look great on the floor' I just have to walk away from her when she does. Tonya- " she leaves her ballet slippers on the kitchen table. Her nasty sweaty bloody ballet slippers. where we eat! Oh my god the way she bends her feet and toes. Its like a ballet thing where she like bends her toes back and stands on her toe knuckles. It looks like she's breaking them! She does it while doing dishes or cooking. She uses the table to do her leg stretches on and again puts her gross feet on the table" Brooke-" I'm stretching my toes and making it easily to dance on. Its just practice when I'm not in the studio! keeps me limber."

13. Where's the craziest/weirdest place you've ever had sex? (NSFW answer beware!)

Tonya- "oh her least favorite question. she's shy about our sex. Brooke- "oh my gosh. don't tell them." Tonya-" oh I'm gonna. I'd say... The movie theater. Now youre asking yourself how do two lesbians have sex in a theater. like a straight couple has a hard time." Brooke- "I'm dying of embarrassment." Tonya- "well I had snuck one of our double toys into it in her purse. It was a early movie so no one was in there and I knew that. I talked her into wearing a skirt that day." Brooke- "ah! this is like the worst!" Tonya- "I started kissing and touching and then I told her about the toy. by then she was so in the mood her shyness went away. And well... I'm sure you can assume the rest. Brooke- "OK done. Next question please!!!!"

14. Do you know your partner's love language, if yes what is it? Tonya- "Our what?" Brooke- "Our love language. It's basically the type of love that speaks to us most. It's super interesting. You guys should look it up. There's 5 types of love language. Acts of service, doing stuff for your partner. Receiving gifts, well that explains itself. Quality time, explains itself. Lastly physical touch. Tonya's is totally acts of service. She gets so grateful when I make dinner or do her laundry when she's too tired and her body aches." Tonya- "In that case Brooke's is either gifts or quality time. No matter what gift I give her she gets so excited and tears up every time. Even if it's a bag of candy I bought on the way home. I think we both value quality time alot since we both get very busy and sometimes don't see much of each other."

15. Where do you see the 2 of you in 10 years? Brooke- "married. a big house with a big yard. Dogs. Babies ya know. Tonya- " Hopefully being happily gay together for the rest of our lives."

Brooke- “Is that all? That was fun! We don’t get to do this alot since we tend to be busy or because we tend to be kind of quiet about our relationship...Not because any bad reason. Just...”

Tonya- “we’re a normal couple. Like everyone else so we don’t throw our gayness in peoples faces and brag about being two woman in love. Anyways we enjoyed doing this. feel free to ask us anything else!”

Thank you @tsimmi4 for tagging me!!!

[islahunt-blog]

GENERAL:

NAME: Isla Olivia Hunt

NICKNAME: None

BIRTHDAY: January 12, 1993

AGE: 26

GENDER: Female

PLACE OF BIRTH: London, UK

PLACES LIVED SINCE: N/A

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Barking & Dagenham

NATIONALITY: English

PARENTS’ NAMES: Rupert Hunt and Eleanor Dryden

NUMBER OF SIBLINGS: None

PERSONALITY TYPE: ISFP

RELATIONSHIP WITH FAMILY: Isla loves her father. It’s been just the two of them her whole life, so she easily considers him her best friend. She never met her mother, and as far as she knows, all she did was give birth to Isla and then fuck off, leaving her dad to take care of her. Now, it’s her turn to take care of him by working for the Rutherfords.

CHILDHOOD TRAUMA: Nothing specific other than growing up in a fairly poor household.

PHYSICAL:

HEIGHT: 5′4

WEIGHT: 115 lbs

BUILD: Slim and fit

HAIR COLOR: Blonde

USUAL HAIR STYLE: She mostly wears it in a ponytail to keep it out of the way, but will wear it wavy and down when she feels like putting in an effort, like this.

EYE COLOR: Green

GLASSES? CONTACTS?: Neither.

STYLE OF DRESS/TYPICAL OUTFIT(S): Casually edgy? She loves a good pair of jeans and a leather jacket. Now that she’s making more money, she’s trying to branch out a little.

TYPICAL STYLE OF SHOES: Ankle boots.

JEWELRY? TATTOOS? PIERCINGS?: Pierced ears and a good amount of tattoos (I’m too lazy to pick them out right now but one day lol)

SCARS: She has plenty from fighting, but nothing major yet

UNIQUE MANNERISMS/PHYSICAL HABITS: She grinds her teeth when she’s angry

ATHLETICISM: She doesn’t make a conscious effort to go to the gym or anything. She has a high metabolism and working for the Rutherfords keeps her fit on it’s own.

HEALTH PROBLEMS/ILLNESSES: None

INTELLECT:

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: 6th Form

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Fluent in both English and Italian, but Italian is his first language.

LEVEL OF SELF-ESTEEM: She usually has pretty high self-esteem, but ever since going to prison she’s been pretty hard on herself. She’s embarrassed that she has to work at the bar and feels pretty useless.

GIFTS/TALENTS: Obviously, she’s a good fighter, but outside of that she’s actually pretty good at drawing and painting. She’d draw in the back of the store while her dad worked.

MATHEMATICAL?: Not her strong suit, but she knows enough to work a register

MAKES DECISIONS BASED MOSTLY ON EMOTIONS, OR ON LOGIC?: Definitely emotions. She lets her anger get the best of her which causes her to act impulsively. It’s something she’s trying to work on after being released from prison.

LIFE PHILOSOPHY:

RELIGIOUS STANCE: Not religious

CAUTIOUS OR DARING?: Daring

MOST SENSITIVE ABOUT/VULNERABLE TO: Her father. She would do anything for him. She also has a very strong sense of pride and hates when she’s forced to put it aside.

OPTIMIST OR PESSIMIST?: Pessimist

EXTROVERT OR INTROVERT?: Introvert

RELATIONSHIPS:

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

PAST RELATIONSHIPS: She’s had a few casual relationships, but nothing she thinks too hard about. She doesn’t really have the time of lifestyle for a real relationship, and doesn’t like people enough in general for them.

PRIMARY REASON FOR BEING BROKEN UP WITH: She wasn’t invested and canceled plans or picked fights too much.

PRIMARY REASONS FOR BREAKING UP WITH PEOPLE: She felt like they’re a waste of time and had better things to do.

EVER CHEATED?: Probably

BEEN CHEATED ON: Probably haha

LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: She’s pretty comfortable with sex, especially when there’s no strings attached.

STORY OF FIRST KISS: It was with a boy who’s family owned the store next to her dad’s. They would sneak out at night and drink together, and eventually started hooking up.

STORY OF LOSS OF VIRGINITY: She lost her virginity with the same guy she kissed for the first time. It’s not a very notable story, and she doesn’t have any fuzzy feelings about it. They just felt like it, so they did it.

A SOCIAL PERSON?: No, she doesn’t really have friends

MOST COMFORTABLE AROUND: Divya, Jonathan and her father

OLDEST FRIEND: …her dad?

HOW DOES HE THINK OTHERS PERCEIVE HIM?: Isla thinks everyone sees her as this helpless thing that needs to be mentored.

HOW DO OTHERS ACTUALLY PERCEIVE HIM?: It depends. The Rutherfords probably see her as an important asset, but still needs some work. People on the outside probably think she’s violent and unapproachable.

SECRETS:

LIFE GOALS: To climb the ranks of the family

DREAMS: She wants to be in a place where she doesn’t have to worry about money–where her and her father can just buy whatever they want without second thought.

GREATEST FEARS: Her dad getting killed because their ties with the mob

MOST ASHAMED OF: Herself

SECRET HOBBIES: Art

CRIMES COMMITTED (WAS HE CAUGHT? CHARGED?): She went to prison after a failed assignment

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD?: Night Owl

LIGHT OR HEAVY SLEEPER?: Light sleeper

FAVORITE ANIMAL: Tigers

FAVORITE FOOD: Fish and chips

LEAST FAVORITE FOOD: Kale

FAVORITE BOOK: She doesn’t really read, but she’ll always love the Harry Potter series

LEAST FAVORITE BOOK: Anything they made her read in school

FAVORITE MOVIE: The Goonies

LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE: The Notebook

FAVORITE SONG: Fever to the Form by Nick Mulvey.

FAVORITE SPORT: Football

COFFEE OR TEA?: Coffee

CRUNCHY OR SMOOTH PEANUT BUTTER?: Smooth

TYPE OF CAR HE DRIVES: Vauxhall Corsa

LEFTY OR RIGHTY?: Righty

FAVORITE COLOR: Black

CUSSER?: Oh hell yeah

SMOKER? DRINKER? DRUG USER?: No drugs, but she smokes and drinks. She’s experimented with some drugs before, but she doesn’t use anything regularly.

BIGGEST REGRET: Fucking up with the Rutherfords

PETS: None

[get-rammed]

Long Dong Silver

Just gonna slap down some basic info on all my characters. It's gonna get long. Also a few retcons to previous characters. Oof yeah, it got LONG

Dakota-7 - age: 123 - class: Titan - race: Exo - height: 6′5″ - Ghost name: Cassie

Personality: Good fucking dude. He’s an incredibly happy guy. Always nice, never mad. Like seriously, he’s a genuinely good dude. Will give you the clothes off his back, and if he has none to offer, then he’d help you find some. He’s too nice though. Often is taken advantage of. Also super naive about a lot of things. Tries to see the best in even the worst of people. Which usually just ends up with him hurt. Which is why Cassie is a panicky worry wart of a Ghost.

Background: Woke up inside of a tree. Like straight up. A tree grew around his body. Took Cassie a long fucking time to get his ass out. Traveled alone for a long time before Cassie finally was able to convince him to go to the city. He’s not anyone real important. Just a mechanic that occasionally helps out Amanda. Doesn’t know much about his past life, and is told it’s better if he didn’t know. He’s okay with that. Gotta focus on the now.

Fun facts: Vex are the one enemy he CAN’T go near. His tech was built heavily off of the Vex to the point that there’s a small backdoor they can use to override him and basically puppet him around (thankfully there was very few of his model produced for this reason). He has no memory of the incident that barred him from ever going near the Vex, but he’s told he’s better off not knowing.

-He’s a good mechanic. People go to him for uh, not quite legal Sparrow mods to be equipped. Ones Amanda can’t apply as the Vanguard watches her. 

-Learned to speak the enemies language so he can chat with them and trade parts every now and again

-As gentle as this boy is, and as kind as he is, you’d think he’d be a huge sub. WRONG. He’s a hardcore dom. Very demanding and vocal. But always makes sure his partners are having a good time. Sweet boy that loves to cuddle his partners

Alexis-137 - age: will not share - class: Hunter - race: Exo - height: 6′1″ - Ghost name: Ripper

Personality: She’s quiet. Cunning. Always watching and listening. Loyal as hell. Keeps most of her personality to herself. Less people know about her the better. 

Background: A contract killer that got the option for an upgrade she couldn’t refuse. Smart, fast, and no remorse. A brutal killer that survived the Collapse. Still went after her targets, just found a few were now a little harder to kill. Easy enough when she figured out their new floating friends had to go. World may have ended, but she still keeps her word. Ripper came to her and told her what he was and then what she was. She brushed him off at all points. Gonna add a bit for Ripper here as well. He had to swallow that his Guardian was a murder. One that had no issue killing other Guardians. So long they were on her list. She only knows all this now, because she kept a journal. Knows everything about her past life. Refuses to forget every life she’s taken. It’s not fair to them. Even though she’s far nicer now than she was, actually cares for Ripper now an all that, she still kept up her business.

Fun facts: 137 is not the amount of times she’s rebooted. She’d be completely nuts if that was the case. It’s the amount of Guardians she’s silenced.

-She has never once rebooted. Fit perfectly with her new body and anything she saw, she was supposed to see. As hardcore as she is, she’s still far nicer than she was when Ripper first found her.

-Dakota is her actual son.

-A previous set of Vanguards asked Alexis to be their silencer so to speak. Someone spoke out? Shame. The current Vanguard don’t like the idea of her and told her to leave.

-She’s the reason Rook isn’t an active Guardian anymore. She was ambushed and missed her shot at his Ghost, simply wounding her instead of killing her.

-Her and Manthres have had a long history with a lot of clashes. End up getting together because they’re both old and tired.

Rook-14 - age: 289 - class: Titan - race: Exo - Height: 6′6″ - Ghost name: Kari

Personality: Kind older Exo. Tries to be everyones hot dad. Kind of keeps to himself a bit. After his Ghost was attacked he went private, too scared to talk to a lot of people. Became a little paranoid. (He’s a newer character. Still workin’ on em). Dispite his almost kind of harsh intro to most people, he’s still a huge flirt

Background: He used to be a well loved and popular trainer. He just wasn’t quiet on his opinions on the Vanguard in power at the time. Which landed him on the list. He knows someone tried to kill him, he doesn’t know who, but it worked. He survived the incident with just Kari getting hit unfortunately, and had to keep quiet. Opened a bar on the city and now gives advice if you buy a drink. 

Fun facts: Found and trained Alison. Also taught her how to swear

-Sugar daddy material. Like straight up. He fucking loves getting his babies anything they want. Adores seeing them happy

-A giving partner. Honestly just loves to go at it honestly. Nothin’ real special about it. Unless he can convince Riot or someone to join in. Then it’s more fun for him. Double dick a partner ;)

Alison-1 - age: 97 - class: Titan - race: Exo - Height: 7' - Ghost name: Ophelia

Personality: Alison is that big sister that hits you over the head and calls you a moron all the time. To be fair, you were a moron and she was just making sure you knew. It's in a loving kind of way though. Kind to those she trusts, and cautious with those she's unsure of. She can be a wee bit unapologetic and brash. She's a Titan, what do you expect. Alison is hot tempered, a little cold a times, and is far more powerful than most Guardians. With a resting bitch face and a height that towers over most, she's intimidating through and through. A little over confident. An by a little I mean A LOT. She can admit she’s not the brightest though. Much rather fight shit than talk to it. She’s quick witted and street smart though. Scan talk just about anyone out of something if she wants it. A little vain, never catch her armor being the same colour for more than a week.

Background: Alison was found and taught by Rook-14. She didn’t like to listen, and he didn’t have the energy to deal with a cocky new rez. He taught her patience and a good way to shut up the new guys. Shove them into enemy fire and wish them the best of luck. She had the opportunity to learn more about herself in the past and turned it down. With the nightmares she has of her previous life, no thanks. She was a high ranking Guardian that used to just get sent out to take out high priority targets as they knew she would get it done. But found herself being punished for going against what was asked of her. It saved her Fireteam and another one. The Vanguard appreciate what she did, but they still had to punish her. Which landed her in a training position. She found it fun. She likes training new Guardians. Makes sure they know how to hold a gun properly and protect themselves if they’re out of ammo. Guardians trained by her have a better start than most. 

Fun facts: While she doesn’t know why, but she always gets terrified when someone goes down. She knows they’ll get up, but she’s terrified that they might not one time. 

-Often has nightmares of the Vex. Ophelia assumes its part of how she died. Alison avoids Vex if possible. She also avoids sleeping, which she already has a hard time due to being an Exo. Which means she always kind of tired

-Guardians trained by her, appreciate what she’s taught them and often bring her gifts

-Often used as a bodyguard when she’s not assigned to train

-Can and will throw your ass out of harms way if you’re not listening to her. Don’t want to stop fighting that thing that is way stronger than you? TOO BAD. TUCK YOUR ARMS

-Is one of the first working Exo prototypes. As such, she often experiences issues with parts of her just not working right. Sticking or just shutting down. If the Light had been gone for more than five years, good chance Ali would have died. A fatal flaw was found in her model of Exo after her disappearance. Too soft a metal was used internally and eventually the part breaks apart and slowly tears the inside apart. Incredibly painful and slow way to die. She’s good though. So long as the Light doesn’t go out again

-As a lover she can be either sweet or vicious. Depends what's asked of her. She's a giant softie for her partner(s). Lots of gifts and a fuck ton of attention all the time, but especially after she plays rough. She adores making her partner feel amazing

Yana-9 - age: 67 - class: Warlock - race: Exo - height: 6′1″ - Ghost name:  Jenka

Personality: Over confident asshole Warlock. Smarter than you, and she’ll make sure you know it. Can admit though that she can’t fight very well, which is why she always has a bodyguard of some form with her. Flirty as hell

Background: Yana woke and knew nothing of herself, but knew she had to research something, anything. The city provided her the opportunity to study various Golden Age tech and history. They assigned her Riot. They got along well, sometimes a little too well if ya know what I mean hur hur. Then during a regular mission gone wrong, Riot dipped out to guide some Cabal away from Yana. She was knocked unconscious and couldn’t respond to Riot’s calls. She was found and taken away to safety by some passing Guardians. Yana didn’t know what happened to him for the longest time and just assumed he left her for dead. Five years after the incident Mena found Riot and forced him to apologize to Yana. First thing she did was slap him then hug him. Now they’re cool, but aren’t really quite on talk like they used to level

Fun facts: Currently poking around Mars by Ana’s request

-Fast. Like she’s stupid fast for a Warlock. Easily outrun a Hunter or her bodyguard if needed

-Once talked some Hive out of killing her. She was out of ammo and her bodyguard was down for the count. She just started yelling weird facts she knew, and they got so fucking bored they just left her

-Got her name from her Ghost saying “Yeah, nah.”. Her original name has been scratched out

Riot-4 - age: 4378 (he's a long living alien. He's a little older) - class: Titan - race: Rokin - height: 6'7" (30' in his actual form) - Ghost name: Cherry

Personality: before his incident he was over confident and a massive narcissist. Very much all about him. Gave little regard to anyone but Yana, the Guardian he was protecting. After his incident he calmed down a /lot/. He's still over confident, but now it's so he doesn't cry. He's a huge coward. He's now a "I'm depressed, have PTSD, and I want to die every second I'm alive, but at least I'm hot?" kind of person. Relatable. He's a lot sweeter now. A very giving partner. Out for their pleasure over his own. A little on the grosser side, as he constantly flirts and makes dirty jokes toward everyone. He can't turn it off at this point

Background: So like, I introduced an alien species to Destiny, because I can. The Rokin. Giant shapeshifters. He was part of a scouting crew. Come to Earth, see if it's fit to be used as a resource planet and come home. Didn't work out that way. The crew got stranded, with the remaining being Riot and Mena. She died and he got stuck by himself. He survived the collapse and just kind of lived as a drifter. He ran across a smell he knew and damn near screamed. MENAOHTHANKFUCKYOU’REALIVEOHMANIWASSOSCAREDDIDYOUKNOWSOMEWALRUSLORDSREALLYDON’TLIKEOTHERPEOPLESGHOSTS? BECAUSEBOYHOWDYTHEYTRIEDTOKILLCHERRYLIKETWICE. THEY’REKINDAMEAN. ANYCHANCEYOUWANTTOLIKEPROTECTMYASS? THANKYOUDEARMANYLOVES. He was excited when he ran across her as a Guardian to say the least. Zavala assigned him to be a bodyguard for Yana. It went well until they got separated and he assumed she was dead. He's a weenie and blended in with the Cabal instead of facing the Vanguard. For five years he had to act like a Cabal. Which meant killing and torturing Guardians. It fucked him up pretty bad. Mena found him on accident and was quick to drag him back to the city for him to explain what happened. He left out the killing of Guardians part. Only his friends know

Fun facts: Riot is a huge fucking slut. Uses sex as a coping mechanism. Keeps his body and mind busy. He always enjoyed sex, but now just does it to keep busy. Also a pretty kinky bastard. Loves the weird stuff. Kind of a huge sub, but will dom if requested. Would rather do quick and hard without learning names. But doesn’t mind slow and easy with learning about his sexual partner. Shape shifting comes in handy for when he wants to go get a good egg dicking from a Hive Knight. Fun fact. His dick is at default an ovipositor. Rokin come from eggs. He can make it anything his partner wants or needs. Unless he’s bottoming, then dicks don’t matter

-Thick as fuck southern accent. He needed to learn English, and he needed to learn it fast. Family he hid in liked western movies, and had southern accents themselves. So he adopted the accent when speaking English. Other languages he doesn’t have the southern accent, but instead mimics whatever accent he learned the language in

-Was once mated to Mena. They have two kids together, but due to a rather harsh dispute, they lost their kids and their lives. Which is how they ended up on Earth in the first place. They had a lot of time to talk about it and are a little better with one another. To where Mena will allow Riot to join in on outings with her and Dakota. Kota never minds, he likes Riot. Mena would love to have the both of them, but she’s still got some deep seeded rage against Riot that won’t allow him in that way again

-Is terrified of relationships due to a lot of the things that happened to him. He knows he’s got a lot going on mentally and emotionally, an he doesn’t want to dump that on someone else. He’s also still hurt about Mena even though it’s been well over 600 years. Which to be fair isn’t a lot to their species

-Due to the Rokin being a species the Traveler isn’t familiar with, it was unable to take their memories

-Not banned from Crucible. Mostly because Shaxx thinks he’s a giant weenie, which he is, but also because Riot won’t even step foot in a Crucible arena now

-Dis boy can cook. Took up cooking when his anxiety kept him up at night. It’s also how his friends know he had a nightmare, which he gets a lot of. If there’s a sudden large amount of food for them, well, Riot couldn’t sleep. Usually find him passed out in the kitchen somewhere. Mena drags him back to his bed and lays down on top of him. He still likes sleeping by her. Her weight and just having a living body near him, helps him sleep a lot better

-Constantly has nightmares. Can’t sleep for shit most nights. Often slinks into a friends bed to sleep next to them. He’s not weird about it. Just kind of flops down next to them. They all have blankets in their rooms now for him. Unless he goes into Alison’s bed. Then that’s just to get fucked and enjoy her aftercare

-He just really wants someone to hold him and make him feel loved tbh. He’s got a whole lot going on and can’t function right anymore

Mena-4 - age: 3897 - class: Titan - race: Rokin - height: 5' (40' in her actual form) - Ghost name: Fletcher

Personality: She got some pretty heavy retcons from the orignal post I made about her. She’s still a happy nice being. Can actually experience any emotion at any level. She doesn’t show other people much about herself outside of being nice and quiet. Keeps her on peoples good sides. Too many people have tried to cross her and she had to embarrass them in front of everyone. Sassy needy little thing. Not that anything she says you’ll understand, but it’s how she moves that tells you, you’re being taunted. That or Fletcher laughing and translating will let you know. 

Backgroud: She was sent to Earth to blend in with our top scientists to see what was being studied. She performed her task perfectly. Started chatting, well, started interacting with a guard, Dakota. Ohhhhh what a coincidence I know. They get together, and adopt a kid together. Mena goes to work and has to help one of the first gen Exos wake up. Alison. Ali, uh, didn’t wake up happy. Woke up confused and angry. Too bad her claws were designed to tear through metal, because Mena’s skin was soft. I’m saying a freshly woken Exo Alison killed Mena on accident. Lol whoops. Woke up at the bottom of a lake.To say Fletcher was surprised is an understatement. Not often your Guardian turns out to NOT be human, but instead an invading alien. Alexis had helped Fletcher look for her Guardian. She wasn’t surprised about Mena’s form. As in her journal it said her daughter in law was an alien and dumped in this lake. She was just a little surprised she had Mena’s Ghost with her. Alexis filled her in and gave her advice. She took Alexis's advice and dooted around as an Exo. On her way to the city she ran across Riot. Dragged his ass with her. Alexis introduced Mena and Dakota just to see what would happen. Dakota obviously has no memory of Mena, plus last either had seen of the other they were both Human. So Mena is just meeting some random Russian named Dakota who just happened to know the same Alexis she knew. Oh shit wait, you have a picture of your wife? Shit boy that’s me. She kept that part to herself as to not freak Dakota out. It’d be weird to know everything about someone while they know little about you. So she’s letting the relationship rebuild naturally. It’s going well

Fun facts: Mena and Dakota were married before the collapse. Obvs. It was on accident, she never meant to fall for a Human, but he was SO SWEET

-Mena was stuck learning to understand Earth languages as fast as she could so she could understand our maths and sciences, but she didn’t have time to learn how to speak any of it. Leaving her effectively mute on our planet. She’s trying to learn some now. Dakota is attempting to teach her Russian, Alison Spanish, and English from Victoria. It’s not going well. Fletcher translates when Mena speaks in her own language

-The Vanguard know of her and Riot. Know what they are. The Vanguard ask they keep it secret, as the regular people already have enough to worry about. Nothing about Mena and Riot would be a comfort to them

-BANNED FROM CRUCIBLE. She would always make bets she could do matches without dying or taking any damage. Of course when you can make your skin soft and squishy, or hard as hell, it was super easy. Shaxx caught wind and since he know what she is, he had to bring down the ban hammer. Plus she’s fucking wicked with a gun. Got a lot of complaints

-Soft girl. Like so soft. Squish squish. Just likes to get fucked. Don’t matter how. Just give it to her. Usually likes to be the power bottom, but doesn’t mind changing it up For her the more the merrier. Same goes for relationships. Her and Dakota have an open one. Could include a partner or two for sex, or to just join their relationship. They don’t mind either way

Manthres, Slayer Of Light - age: 683 (there’s no real data on Eliksni life spans sooooo) - class: variation of Titan - race: Eliksni - height: 11′ - Ghost name: Veros

Personality: Old and kind of grumpy. She’s been through a lot of shit and literally just wants to die already. Sarcastic. Grandma to literally everyone though. She hated Guardians, Human and otherwise, but ya know. Kind of had to reevaluate after Veros found her. Now she just wants all her children to come back from their missions safe. Absolutely will not take your advice. She knows what she’s doing. She’s old what do you expect

Background: This has a few changes from what I’ve said in the past. She is an Archon Priest for a long dead house found herself at the doorstep to the House of Devils. As their Priest role was filled at the time, she just got a high ranking Captain position instead. She didn’t mind. She didn’t get as much Ether, but still enough to survive in her massive form. Ran with them for years until Siva. Then her and her crew noped the fuck out. Found themselves as outcasts. They were enjoying a successful Ether grab when the Cabal attacked their ship. Everyone was dead outside of a hatchling, Xinos (who, yes I’m aware was originally spelled Zinos. I straight up DO NOT KNOW how I fucked that up. But at this point it’s just going to stay Xinos), and Manthres herself. She laid dying and she was so thankful. Finally her pain would go away. Lol nah dude. Howdy I’m your Ghost, let me just heal ya real quick. Veros convinced her to go the city and meet her new leaders. She begrudgingly agreed. Everyone stepped out of her way when she showed up. Everyone stared. Not every day an Eliksni Guardian shows up. Even less so when one is as big or well known as Manthres is. Needless to say her reception wasn’t a warm one. Even from Zavala who was informed he was her Vanguard as she was a variation of Titan. Everyone is a lot kinder to her now, but that still doesn’t change what she’s done. Which is why she asked to stay dead after she dies. She doesn’t want to forget her life or those she’s killed. That’s not fair to the lost lives

Fun facts: She had to drop the ‘Slayer Of Light’ part of her name for obvious reasons. She earned it in the first place from a dying Guardian that was sent in a Fireteam to kill her. The information on her was blurry. No one knew she was THAT big until she showed up at the Tower. Only one to meet Manthres and survive is Alexis

-She has slaughtered hundreds of Guardians without caring to learn their names. But we do the same to her kind in the thousands. Who between the two of us is really the bigger threat?

-Riot taught her how to bake cookies. They’re not the best but they’re not ass either. She likes to make them for her Fireteams. Likes to give them out after missions for a mission well done

-Has gone on raids. But only to the Leviathan as Calus is kind enough to allow her to watch and still get free shit. Mostly because his tailors need time to measure and make her armor. Gives them something exciting to do. NEW BODY SHAPE OH HELL YEAH. But also because she is a rarity upon his ship

-Not a fan of how people are now pushing her to stay back in the city. She understands they don’t want her to die, but she has to someday. She’d rather die in the field than among the penned cattle

Victoria-1 - age: 3 - class: Hunter - race: Exo - height: 5′5″ - Ghost name: Axel

Personality: She is an incredibly new rez. Still in the “I’m going to do everything because I can’t die.” phase. Little firecracker. Hyper as shit. Likes to stick things in her mouth (thankfully she has Teren now so shE’LL STOP THAT SHIT). Kind of ditzy. She never cared much for learning. Not when she can snoop around to find neat shit and stab people

Background: Woke up on Venus and touched everything. Poor Axel. He wanted a Guardian that explored, and he got one, but he’d have liked getting one that would stop trying to fucking go places she can’t be. The Vanguard gave up on even trying to get her to do the missions they want her to do. She never does them, and when she does she half asses them. They let her do her own thing until she mellows out

Fun facts: Met Teren on the Leviathan. Asked him for a tour and sucked his dick in the Underbelly. They’ve been happily together ever since. She often calls him Sweet T

-Alison trained her. They often talk still. Mostly Victoria just blowing up Alis phone with pictures and texts of what she did for the day. Ali doesn’t mind. She thinks it’s cute

-Can see and react to things really well, but is actually pretty deaf. Neither her nor Axel know why, and looking for the right part to fix her isn’t going well. It’s a small piece that’s super delicate to the point no one bothers to scavenge for them. No one minds speaking up for her. If she can’t quite hear them, she watches lips, if that’s not an option, then Axel just morse codes it at her in flashes. It’s the best she’s got

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: 3 Proposals and a Confirmation

Title: 3 Proposals and a Confirmation Rating: PG-13 Relationships: Gabe/Nancy, Gabe/Johnny, Gabe/Jill Warnings: Language, mentions of homophobia, and references to Gabe having sex, which is apparently traumatizing for his children. Brief Summary: 3 Times Gabe was proposed to, and one time he did the proposing.

One.

He’s eighteen years old, and Nancy is still seventeen. She’ll be eighteen in a few weeks, but Gabe will already be off at school by the time that happens. They’re laying out on the hood of his Impala, gazing as the stars and hoping to see spaceships. They came out to the middle of the desert sometimes - anything to get away from the watchful eyes of their parents. And besides, Gabe knew what was expected as him as an assumed heterosexual man. If he wasn’t trying to get into Nancy’s pants, what kind of fake straight man was he? That was why they came out here anyway: to fool around.

“The campus is a couple of hours away.” Nancy mused, her highlighted hair fanned out on the windshield. Here, in the desert, in the dark, under the stars, she looks like some sort of night goddess. It probably helps that she’s totally nude. He likes her best like this, but not for the same reason most of his friends would. His fingers always itch to draw her when she’s naked or paint on her skin. He hadn’t been able to talk her into painting her skin yet, but they rarely actually got to do it in one of their houses. It was always at a house party or in or on the Impala. They’re both wrapped up in the flannel blanket he keeps in the trunk for nights like this. “You’re going off to college and I’ll be stuck here. This is where we break up, isn’t it?”

Gabe leaned up onto his elbows to get a better look at his girlfriend. He can already see the freedom college will give him. No one there would care that he’s a gay. Sure, he was going on a baseball scholarship and he probably wouldn’t advertise it to the guys in the locker room, but no one would care - not like here. A couple of punches from dumb ass jocks he can handle; being nearly beat to death by his father for his hidden sexuality? Not so much. It would be so easy right now to agree with her. To say: you’re right. Let’s break-up. He can be out and proud as soon as he gets away from his family. It’s like living the dream.

Instead what came out of his mouth was, “Who says we need to break up? We can stay together forever. You’re the only girl I love as much as Georgie. Why would I want to break up with you? You’re it for me, Nanc.” The words are true. He loved Nancy. She’s his best friend in the world, and he can tell her everything - except for the fact that he’s not romantically in love with her and would rather date her brother. Gabe figured that if he wanted to keep his parents in his life, he needed to make sacrifices. He can live with platonic love and imagining David Boreanaz to get it up if it means keeping his family intact.

He knew what he said, but he doesn’t know what Nancy actually heard because what came out of her mouth was, “Aren’t we too young to get married?” She seemed excited with the idea, and Gabe had always loved seeing her when she’s happy. It’s stupid, but her happiness always made him want to sketch the wide range of emotions that slid across her features. She propped herself up onto her elbows to look at him better, the blanket falling to the side revealing her bare breasts. “But I mean… yeah! Of course, Gabriel. I’ll marry you.”

And he’s pretty sure he didn’t propose to her, but she’s just so happy, and that’s what has him sliding off his class ring and slipping it onto her finger. “We’ll get you a better ring when we can afford it.” He gives her hand a squeeze. “Let’s get married, Nanc.”

The way she laughed excitedly into the night made it all worth it. 

Two.

“I think the jury would be more sympathetic if we were married.”

They’re alone in the conference room designated for lawyers and their clients. Technically there’s a guard outside, but he never came into the room - no matter what he heard. He better not; Gabe paid him enough to let him and Johnny do whatever they want.

Gabe’s lanky body was stretched across two chairs and he had a sketchbook in his hand. He’d been sketching Johnny’s lips for the past twenty minutes, practicing his form while Johnny prepped for court. Gabe was supposed to be helping, but he only really helped when Johnny forced him to pay attention. The problem was that Gabe barely paid attention when he was caught up in his art. “Okay,” He said, obviously not listening to the lawyer he occasionally got blowjobs from. It took him far too long to catch-up to what Johnny said. “Wait. What?” 

The other man chuckled, and God did Gabe love his laugh. He thinks that if they met before Gabe’s incarceration they would have fallen in love organically - instead of whatever this was. Most days Gabe didn’t know how he felt about the other man. He wasn’t supposed to lust after his lawyer or engage in conjugal visits with him, but here he was. To be fair, he’s not sure if he was in love with him yet, but he thought he could fall in love with him -- easily. 

“I think we should get married.” Johnny said again, leaning over and taking the sketchbook from him to make sure that Gabe actually listened this time. “It’s legal in California now.” 

Most of the time Gabe understood what Johnny was talking about or what he was getting at. This was the first time where he had absolutely no idea what the other man was going on about. “Johnny…” A paperclip was slid into his hand and he started bending it into a different shape - always needing to keep his hands moving. “We’re in New Mexico. That shit isn’t legal here anymore. Do you really think it would be a good idea?” Gabe asked as he set the paperclip down. He’d twisted it into a ring, of course he did. “Sure, you’re gonna tell them that I confessed ‘cause I didn’t want anyone knowing about my sexuality, but this isn’t Los Angeles, Jay, or even New York. You’re in the land of the ignorant and in the closet fucks. The judge could be a homophobic asshole.”

There was an unreadable look on Johnny’s face, and for the first time Gabe wasn’t sure how to read the other man. “It would allow me additional visitation as well.” He told him after a long period of silence. 

Now that was news to Gabe. “What are you talking about? You have better visitation that Dusty and Sam do.” He said, as he tried to process this conversation. None of it made a lick of sense to him. “The only difference is that the boys have medical visitation if I ever-” And suddenly Gabe knew where Johnny was going with this. “Get injured. This is about the incident last week.”

Suddenly this was no longer about his case. “The incident?” Johnny said, moving from his side of the table to stand in front of Gabe. “Gabriel, you were stabbed. They perforated your liver. You could have died and if Charlie hadn’t emailed me-”

Gabe doesn’t know why he does it. Their relationship was definitely no longer client/lawyer. It had evolved into something else, and they fuck around when Gabe pays the guards to turn off the cameras, but they don’t kiss and they don’t talk about it, and they sure as shit don’t hold hands. So Gabe reaching out and grabbing both of Johnny’s hands? Yeah, that was more intimate than they were used to. “You wouldn’t have known.” Gabe finished for him, feeling more like the man he’d been before he was convicted. Sighing, he ran his thumbs over the back of Johnny’s hands. “But I’m fine. And you’re my lawyer so I can confidently tell you that the man who stabbed me had his head bashed in with a pipe while I was at the hospital. My men took care of him for me.”

The other man nodded, and Gabe can see him staring down at their joined hands. “Gabe.” And it sounds pinched the way he says it, and the thing is: Johnny never calls him Gabe. They’ve known each other for over a year and it’s always Gabriel or Briel. Never Gabe.

“You’re not thinking straight, Johnny.” Gabe continued on, giving his hands a squeeze. “You’re freaked out. The only me you see is the one in here. You don’t see the guy I am when I’m back there, when I’m in the yard.” He shook his head. “You’re worried about me, and it’s cute, but marrying me? That’s a mistake. It’s not going to help the case, and it’s gonna make other lawyers look at you different. Unless you propose to all your clients.”

Johnny dropped their hands and rolled his eyes, stepping back to pace in front of Gabe. “Do you think I do any of this shit with my other clients?” He growled out. “Do you really think I buy my other clients gifts? Let alone spend hours looking through a sketchbook to see if they drew any sketches of me that day? Do you think I just drop to my knees for any good-looking man, Gabriel?” He was in Gabe’s face now, hands on either side of the chair, and if the cameras were on in the room right now, Gabe was sure one of the guards would have come in by now. “Do you think I’m usually this patient? It took a year to get you to consent to reopening the case, sweetheart, but I came here every damn week to plead my case. I don’t do this shit with anyone other than you! For reasons I don’t know you’re different. Everything gets thrown out the window the second I’m alone with you, and I don’t know why!”

He’s so damn close to Gabe, breathing heavy right in front of him. For a moment Gabe can’t help but to wonder if this is what the man is like in court - all controlled and righteous fury like this. His words wrap around Gabe and hold him tight in a way he hasn’t felt in a long damn time. The last time another person had man him feel so cared about was Georgie. Emotions are biting at the back of his throat like bile, and he can’t stop himself from grabbing Johnny’s face and pulling him in for a deep kiss - their first kiss. And it feels… right. It’s the same feeling that he had when he saw his kids for the first time, and it’s the feeling he got whenever he saw Georgie. This was what home felt like.

For a moment Johnny doesn’t react at all, and then the other man is all over him. He was in Gabe’s lap, and his hands were in his hair, and he was kissing him like he was drowning and Gabe’s the only thing that could save him.

“Knock it off. No touching the prisoners. You both know better.” And suddenly a guard is in the room, cuffing Gabe and escorting him back to his cell.

Not able to help it, he glanced back at the other man, watching as Johnny picked up the paperclip ring. “The answer’s yes by the way.” Gabe said, his lips turning up into a smile. “To your question. If you can figure out a way to bring California to me, I’ll marry you.” He said laughing when the guard pulled him out of the room. “Figure out a way and I’m there.”

Three

“How do they stay on though?” Natalie asked seriously as she touched Gabe’s arm and tried to rub his tattoos off like they were temporary tattoos. They were at Jill’s house sitting on her bed. His girlfriend was fuck knows where, and Gabe had been letting his cousin paint his nails a deep grey color (he was a sucker like that). Somehow she’d gotten side-tracked once she finished and had started studying his tattoos. He sort of got it through. He had quite a few on his hands. Her fascination was with his newest tattoo, which was her name in a loopy font on the top of his right hand, near his thumb. She kept running her fingers over it and staring at it like it was the most amazing thing in the world. 

Gabe thought about it for a moment, as he searched for the right words. “They’re part of my skin now. The things I love are apart of my soul, and now they’re permanently part of me.” He never believed in mincing things or lying to kids. If any of the kids asked him something, he always told the honest truth. Even when it got him into trouble. “Someone took a needle filled with ink - sometimes in a hand-held machine and sometimes just with their hand, and stabbed me over and over again until it turned into a word or a picture.”

The six year old’s eyes widened. “You love me enough to get stabbed over and over again?” She asked in complete and total surprise.

Laughing, Gabe ruffled the little girl’s hair. “Of course I do. We’re family.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “We’re blood. That’s thicker than anything else in the world.”

“Wow.” Natalie nodded, but Gabe wasn’t entirely sure if she actually understood or if she just thought it sounded as impressive as Gabe thought it did. 

It was in that moment that Jill came into the room. “There you guys are.” She raised an eyebrow and looked at them suspiciously. “What are you doing?” There was a look in her eyes like she didn’t trust whatever they were talking about. 

“Before you say anything, I’m aware that I’m a sucker who does not possess the ability to tell Nattie no, but she was very insistent that my nails needed to look as pretty as possible for our date tonight.” He said before holding up his hand so she could see the gray nail polish that stained the skin around his nails. “I have no idea what we’re doing, but I’m pretty sure my nails are on point.”

There was this look on Jill’s face that he’d never been able to define. There was annoyance, but there was also fondness, and something else that was too soft to define. It was like she wanted to scold him, but also like she wanted to pin him down and kiss him until they wore each other out. There was so much to that look and Gabe would never get sick of seeing it on her face. “Don’t use ‘on point’ that sounds weird coming out of your mouth.” And how she knew he was about to say something about how he preferred to put things in his mouth was beyond him, but she raised an eyebrow that silenced him immediately. “We do have to go though. Help her with her shoes?” And with that she was gone.

Gabe looked at Natalie before asking, his face a mask of all seriousness, “Did your mom miss the part where my nails are still wet?” 

“It’s fast dry.” Natalie rolled her eyes in a way so reminiscent of Jill that it made Gabe’s heart swell. “I can do it. C’mon.”

They walked out of Jill’s bedroom and right into a mess of streamers. Gabe blinked as he tried to get his bearings. The streamers were pulled across, wall to wall like a laser grid in one of those crime heist movies.  The hallway had not looked like that when he and Natalie had gone into the room, which meant this was what Jill had been up to while Natalie kept him busy. It wasn’t the first time that Jill had led him on one of these ‘come and find me’ games, but it was the first time where Natalie was an accomplice. “What the fuck…” He breathed out, looking around in confusion.

“Language.” The six year old scolded. “I don’t really need help putting my shoes on.” She said before crawling under one of the streamers, and leaving Gabe standing in the middle of the hallway, completely confused. 

Not knowing what else to do, he spun around in place for a moment as he tried to get his bearings. “What the fuck…” He repeated again. From the living room he heard Jill tell him to hurry up. “What the hell are you up to, Bean?” He mumbled out, more to himself than to his girlfriend. Not really having any other course of action, he grabbed the first streamer and started tearing them down from the walls, following the trail Jill had left for him.

The streamers led almost all the way into the living room, and by the time he made it to a large piece of paper blocking his view of the living room, he was so fucking confused. He had no idea what was going on. At least last time Jill had set up something like this, she’d left her panties lying around as a clue. But this? This was something else entirely. The last thing he expected to see on the big piece of paper was: Wanna post-it note this bitch?

He blinked, and stood there for a moment as he tried to figure out what the hell she was talking about. When the words hit him, he froze. His mouth opened and closed. He knew he should pull the piece of paper down, but he was in complete and utter shock. Suddenly he understood why Natalie had wanted his fingernails to look pretty. She’d known what her mother was going to do, and she’d wanted to help Gabe get ready to be proposed to. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe.

“Gabe?” Jill’s concerned voice shook him from his thoughts, and she pulled down the piece of paper separating them. Behind her he could see their combined family. She’d really thought this out. She really wanted to marry him, and she knew he would say yes. Or at least she had thought he was going to say yes. The look on her face now made Gabe think she felt unsure of what his reaction was going to be. “Are you okay?”

Swallowing, Gabe shook his head. This was different. This was so fucking different than the last two proposals he’d been a part of. The other times, the two of them had been alone and they had been marriages of convenience. This was definitely not that. This was someone who loved Gabe so fucking much that they wanted to spend the rest of their life with him. This was someone who wanted him to know that he wasn’t just a solution to an uncomfortable part of their life -- he was their life. “No,” He finally managed out. And were his eyes wet? Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to be this much of a pussy - even if the running joke in their relationship was that she was the man. “Bean… I…” And he couldn’t look at their family. All he could look at was her.

She shook her head. “Just let me do this, okay?” And when she pulled out the silver band, he knew he was done for. He knew exactly what was going to come out of his mouth. “You’re a complete idiot sometimes, but you’re my idiot. You make me laugh, and you make me cry, and I want to spend the rest of your life with you since you’re obviously going to die before I do, old man. I’m not going to get down on my knees because no one in this room needs to hear what joke will come out of your mouth if I do that.” She held up the ring to him. “Gabriel Anthony, do you want to marry me?”

“More than anything else in the world.” Gabe breathed out before pulling Jill closer to him to covering her mouth with his. He could hear laughing and clapping behind them, but it didn’t matter in the current moment. The only thing that mattered was that Jill wanted to marry him.

(And one time he sort of proposed)

Gabe’s house in Flushing was a fuck of a lot bigger than his old place had been, and he’d lived in the nicer part of the Bronx, so that was saying a lot. The new place allowed him to have a library and an art studio while still having enough rooms for when the girls spent the night. He was in the studio, sitting on the floor as he hand-painted a small rocking chair for Grandbabe. Since he worked with dangerous materials in his work from time to time and had once burned himself when someone knocked on the door at his old studio, his home studio had a flashing light that his family could turn on from the outside so he knew when they needed his attention without scaring the shit out of him.

“Come in.” He called out, not surprised that someone was in his house and he had no idea. His family came and went as they pleased, and Gabe didn’t mind it one bit. Hell, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Once the flashing stopped and the door opened, he didn’t look up to see who was at the door, he just continued on with his painting. The feet gave it away anyway. Definitely his girlfriend. No. His fiancee, and wasn’t that just a trip??? He was an engaged man. How fucking cool was that?

Jill didn’t say anything at first, and he knew she had to be looking at the piece he’d finished last night for an exhibition he’d been invited to participate in -- it was all melted glass on steel and was going to be a bitch to anchor when he took it to the gallery, but he was pleased with how it came out. “What are you working on now?” She asked, sounding amused, and he knew he had to have light blue paint plastered all over him. 

“I asked B what she wanted for Christmas and she told me and I quote ‘Frozen stuff’ so she’s getting a Frozen chair for her and Nattie’s little study corner in the library.” He told her, as he continued the detail line work on Olaf’s form. The seatback had each of the main characters meticulously drawn and then painted while the seat itself was covered in a very large snowflakes. The arms and legs would eventually be covered in smaller snowflakes, but those would come later. He’d just screwed the back onto the chair and in doing so had noticed that Olaf was blending into the blue, which was why he was doing some quick detail work. 

There was a laugh from next to him, and he figured that Jill was standing behind him and looking at what he was painting. “What? Is Natalie getting a Frozen chair, too?” She asked in a teasing tone.

Gabe rolled his eyes as he finished with the black paint and leaned back to get a better look at his work. “Of course not. She said she wanted a fairy chair. I wasn’t sure if she meant fairies or if she meant fairytales so I have mock-ups of both on my drafting table.” He said, waving a hand in the direction of the other side of the room, flicking paint onto the floor in the process.

“You’re joking.” Jill said, but she must have seen the papers on the drafting table because she laughed. “You’re not joking. Jesus, my daughter has you whipped.” 

He could hear her shuffling through his papers and finding the mock-ups. Knowing what else was on his drafting table, he put his paintbrush down and stood up, wiping his paint-covered hands off on his pants. 

“Gabe.” Jill’s voice hitched up and she spun around to glare accusingly at him, a small cloth jewelry bag in her hand. “What’s this?” She asked, showing him the messy handwriting on the muslin with Jill’s name on it. Not waiting for his response, she opened it and pulled out an intricate seashell ring. 

“I didn’t make it.” He disclosed immediately. “I prefer mediums I can melt or splatter, but I know a guy, and I know you say you don’t like flashy things, which I still think is a lie, but I feel like you needed a ring. I’ve never understood why only the proposed to person gets the engagement ring when both parties should get to show off the fact that someone liked them enough to want to commit to them for life and-”

Jill’s mouth was on his, and all he could do was kiss back and hang on for dear life. “So I take it you like it?” He finally asked when she let him up for air. As she pulled him back in for another kiss, he figured that was answer enough for him.