#like the whole first ch of mary on a cross

[satrryeys4eva]

guses what 🤩???? all my fics in my google drive just dispersed, that mean whole first chapters of fics have disappeared

hooray 🥳

i’m gonna kms

[violettaskies]

To Share A Kiss The Devil Has Known

(ch. 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x you // Eddie Munson x f!reader // perv!Eddie Munson x innocent!reader

Genre: romance, mild smut, Catholic trauma, religious trauma, friends to lovers, slow burn

Notes: this will have a three installments // this chapter is just the intro honestly lol so sorry if it’s boring build up // Eddie is kinda pervy lol // he’s kinda dark but also not // i tried to write him to be as much of a consent king as possible

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // talks of religion, reader goes to confession and her priest is a little mean with his words (at the beginning), slight manipulation, pillow humping, humping, first times, dacryphilia, corruption kink, praise kink // masturbation //please let me know if there should be more added, thank you!

ao3 // chapter two // chapter three // masterlist // series masterlist

-:-:-:-:-

Every other Sunday was for confession. While other members of the family went on Wednesdays or Saturdays, you always chose Sundays since it would start the week off on a clean slate.

Not that there was much to confess about. Oftentimes, you would walk from your house to the church a few hours after mass ended, maybe feeling a bit guilty about your thoughts, rarely was it ever your actions. One day, you came in to tell the priest about how angry you got at your parents when they grounded you for accidentally falling asleep in church. You didn’t lash out at them, of course; but, you did curse them in your head — not honouring thy father and mother very well.

Then there was an instance three years ago at the homecoming dance. One girl had on the most beautiful baby blue dress you had ever seen, while you were stuck with a hand-me-down gown of the same colour. You prayed aloud that night in front of your bed, that you would one day have the opportunity to wear a dress as nice as hers. But the prayer backfired when your mother overheard, then told you to march to the church the following morning to confess how you broke the tenth commandment of coveting thy neighbour’s goods.

As a whole, you thought there were never any major moments in your life where you sinned gravely. That was until you went to your friend’s house for Bible study on Saturday night. She hosted it weekly, and invited all the kids from school. Needless to say, only a handful of people appeared. Not that it wasn’t fun, the six of you would always spend a few hours going over passages, and then eat a nice dinner afterwards. Truly, you looked forward to it since there weren’t other things you were invited to in town.

So when this past Saturday rolled around where the first epistle to the Corinthians was read, specifically the sixth chapter and eighteenth verse — your group started to analyze it as normal. But, little did you know that this was the day your heart would drop the hardest it ever has.

‘The sexually immoral person sins against their own body,’ the people in the room repeated the verse over and over, like a chant taunting you and your actions.

It was the first time you walked into the confessional on a Sunday afternoon with shaky legs and an intensely beating heart. You told the priest what you told your friend, trying to rid yourself of the sins you unknowingly committed. But he stopped you, his voice only getting louder as he gave you guidance on your next steps. ‘Stop doing that,’ he said, ‘God may not be so quick to forgive you if you give into the Devil’s temptations so often.’ Then after he assigned you a penance of five Hail Marys and going through the rosary twice, you were gone.

All you could think as you took your first steps outside, were words that should never cross your mind. Not now, not ever.

If sinning is so bad, then why does it feel so good?

-:-:-:-:-

As the day ended, and a new week of school began — your guilt never went away. Teasing you from the back of your subconscious as you walked home, ate dinner, and failed at doing some homework that was due a few days later.

It had been three days since the last time you unknowingly sinned, two days since you found out what it was, and one day since the priest’s voice scared you to the point of no return. Everything affected you gravely, that even once you walked into school Monday morning, the noises from the other students became a muffled and chaotic mess in your ears. So much so, that as you were shakily getting things out of your locker, you didn’t even notice movement from the one next to yours.

“You look stressed, sweetheart.” The voice startled you, only amplifying your inner-guilt, since you spent the past few moments focusing on shutting the voices up in your head, rather than greeting your favourite locker neighbour.

But what made you feel guiltiest of all, was that he is the one who inspired these sins of yours.

The throbbing ache between your legs felt good, and the way your pillow helped relieve that ache felt even better. If you were able to feel this level of delight every night, then why not think of someone who made you feel the same way? — the question plagued your mind nightly, during the moments you were oblivious to committing a sin.

Little did you know that it was truly sexual in meaning.

There was only one person who made you feel equally as amazing with their words and actions. Your locker neighbour to the right, Eddie Munson.

Several moments replayed in your head. Like the time he kept calling you ‘pretty girl’ because you decided to wear a skirt on the first day of Spring. Then, you remember how his calloused fingers felt when they were so close to your face after he brushed your hair from your neck; making sure to linger on your sensitive skin before mentioning how beautiful the silver crucifix looked on you. There were so many times after that too. From his deep voice whispering in your ear to ask if you needed a ride home while you both were in study hall; to his arms wrapping a sweater around your shoulders during lunch when the school’s heater broke. The Hawkins townspeople claimed him as a spawn of the Devil, but you named him as the only true friend you had. The only person to make the butterflies in your stomach tingle every time he spoke to you.

“I-I’m not, it’s just I can see now why Mondays aren’t people’s favourite,” you responded, still staring into the vastness of your locker. Thinking about how your start to the week wasn't so great as it usually is.

Eddie had opened the metal door completely, removing the barrier between the two of you. “But, Mondays are always your favourite because you get to see me after a painstakingly long forty-eight hours,” he pouted while trying to get you to giggle at his dramatics.

It worked.

“Well, I normally see you around the fourth period. This is the earliest you’ve been at school for a while.”

“Mondays are the worst because my homeroom teacher loves putting tests at the buttcrack of dawn,” Eddie groaned, while holding up the notes you loaned him at the beginning of the year since you already took the biology course before.

“Well, good luck, I’m gonna go—” no matter how much you loved talking to him, and how warm he made you feel, Eddie was part of your current predicament. So seeing him now made your heart ache in the worst way.

As you went to grab the locker door to close it, Eddie lightly grabbed your wrist. “I saw you leaving the church yesterday. You looked so,” he paused, moving his head downwards to meet you at eye-level, before continuing. “Sad, you looked so sad. I even called out your name a few times so I could give you a ride home, but you kept walking, so I assumed you didn’t hear me.”

So it was the Devil’s spawn shouting your name as you made your way home; not the Devil himself making you feel guilty for your actions. It was just your friend who wanted to look out for you.

Eddie continued: “or maybe you’re ignoring me,” he pouted with feign-sadness.

“Oh, uh-uhm it was just a really tiring day and I guess the voices in my head were too loud,” it was only partially a lie.

“If something’s bothering you—”

“Nothing’s bothering me, honestly,” this one was a lie, and it came out a bit too easily. But all you could focus on now was the feeling of Eddie’s thumb stroking small circles on the soft skin of your wrist.

He looked you up and down suspiciously before saying, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I do.”

“So whatever is going through your mind, let me know. Who am I to judge anyways?” He winked before letting go of your wrist.

You nodded, seriously contemplating if you wanted to have a confessional with your little Devil. Just as you stared at him with eyes full of conflict, the bell rang. Instead of responding, you softly said your farewell. “Anyways, see you later during fourth period, if you decide to come again.”

It was the only class Eddie had a perfect attendance score in, but he would never let you know that you’re the reason why.

-:-:-:-:-

By the time English class rolled along, you didn’t realize just how much your body was moving itself robotically. Going through the movements you’ve been so used to doing for the years you’ve been in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary happened, thankfully. First period was a calculus lesson, history happened afterwards with a lecture on the French Revolution, then a substitute showed up for geography during third period so that was a boring class. All throughout those hours, you kept quiet; because the wrath of the Angel on your shoulder, condemning you for your sins, was becoming far too much. To even think about answering questions the teachers asked was mentally exhausting.

It all came to a peak once you sat on your chair for fourth period English — the only class you had with Eddie this semester, and of course, the only class everyone sat at long desks that held two people. As you looked out the window to the dark blue skies of Autumn, your conscience kept telling you to be careful. You were about to sit next to the boy who amplified your senses as you sinned. Goodness knows how he’ll react to the news if you told him.

What would he think if he found out you think about his hands helping guide your hips nightly, or his voice telling you ‘you’re so beautiful’ when you finally find the climax of your relief, or his lips kissing your —

“You’re still so tense,” the voice brought you out of your haze for the second time today. But this time, Eddie’s warm hand was on the top of your left thigh; the set of thighs you unknowingly went from bouncing one second to squeezing together the next.

“Just tired, maybe I’ll nap when I get home,” you sighed. Truly, it has been three days since the bane of your guilt was committed. You could barely sleep now that you’ve stopped doing your nightly routine.

“Take a nap in my van, I have cute pillows in there,” he scrunched his nose as he teased you, then released your thigh to stretch his arms in the air.

Thinking of how your class went to the zoo for a field trip once, and Eddie found the scariest-looking bats cute, you replied sweetly: “your definition of cute is not really the same as mine.”

“But, I think you’re cute, don’t you?” Eddie loved to make you blush with his not-so-suave comments. Said it was practice for whenever he goes to the bars and flirts with girls there. But he never was able to make them flustered in the way you always were.

You saw the teacher walk into class in your peripheral vision, and prayed that would mean you didn’t need to talk to your locker and desk neighbour for the next three quarters of an hour. “I’m not,” you shyly say while looking away from The Dealer completely.

“You’re such a good girl too,” his voice was deeper than normal.

He was wrong. So wrong. The guilt in your heart only deepens as his words echo in your ear, along with the voices of your priest telling you need to repent for your sins. If this day couldn’t have gotten any worse, of course the muse of your sinful thoughts believes you’re a good girl when you aren’t.

“I-I’m—” your words are saved by the bell and your teacher’s voice which booms through the classroom. You thought you were safe, thought that until lunch you could get away with not looking at the boy who makes you unknowingly rub your legs together. But no, the day that was going downhill, just hit rock bottom.

“This class is a bit different, it will be a work period since I’m assigning you a small project due Wednesday. That’s not a lot of time, so today will be a work period then tomorrow we will have a lesson. I hope that you all can get the project finished after school over the next couple days.”

Doing a small project wouldn't be so bad, would it? The curiousity sat in your brain momentarily before your thoughts went haywire. The teacher paired you off, specifically with the people you were sitting next to, where each duo would need to analyze and present a different chapter of The Picture of Dorian Gray. So after a beat of silence once the teacher’s explanation was over, the class erupted in murmured voices and squeaky chairs. But you couldn’t get yourself to move to face your project partner.

“Don’t kill me but, we may need to finish this tonight because tomorrow—”

“You have your g-gig, I remember,” spreading out your time with Eddie would have helped your intensifying sinful thoughts subside. At least until you got over your bad habit. But now, you both had to do this for your grades — mainly his — so there was no time to lose. Maybe this could be a positive distraction.

“How about we work on it today right after school so we can get it over with?” he suggests.

“Alright, I guess skipping band practice one time wouldn’t be so bad,” you start shaking your left leg again. If you were a sinner, why not fall down the path of delinquency — your tendency to accept defeat a little too quickly, and then spiral, was catching up to you now.

Eddie notices, and touches your thigh again to calm you down like he has so many times before, even a few minutes ago. Although now, you move your leg away from his grip. “No, no, no, you go be a good girl and head to band practice, then I’ll pick you up afterwards and we'll run to the library,” he says trying not to sound disappointed that you backed away from his touch.

“I’ll finish probably a little after half-past three today since there’s only one song to practice,” you state while opening the book to the assigned chapter. “What will you do while you wait?”

“Oh, you know, maybe do some buying and selling,” The Dealer says nonchalantly.

“Shopping?” you ask innocently.

“Of sorts,” he mimes the act of smoking a joint in your direction, and you look at him curiously before understanding what he meant. You remember your father telling you it’s not a good idea to be friends with your locker neighbour because he’s a sinner who does the Devil’s drugs.

Guess he rubbed off on you, while you rubbed off on something else.

The pang of guilt hit you again. Like a stab to the heart from God himself. Tonight, you’ll do penance until you sleep, before the Devil on your shoulder tells you to commit your sinfully bad habit again. “R-right,” you say quietly. “Let’s get started then, you have to stay focused, Eddie, do you promise?”

“Pinky promise, my dear,” he grabs your fingers that are so much smaller than his, and hooks his pinky onto yours. “Only if you promise to focus too. You’ve been zoning out all day long. When you walk from class to class it looks like you’re constantly about to puke.”

“I do not,” you say in a defiant whisper.

“So do,” he teases. “Listen, if I promise to stay focused the entire time while we try and finish this project, you’re gonna tell me why you’re acting this way. It’s worrying me.”

You pause, looking at Eddie’s weirdly mischievous eyes as he starts to rub the bottom of your back. “There’s nothing really bothering me, though.”

“You’re lying, aren’t you, pretty girl?” his fingers started circling in a pattern that brought pleasurable shivers up your spine. After years of giving you featherlight touches — because that’s what friends do, he said one day — he knew exactly where to grasp your body to make you relax.

“Let me think about it,” you slightly give in. However, you can’t get yourself to admit, again, how badly you want to confess your sins to the one who inspired them.

He notices how you started to squeeze your thighs together again during this class. “That’s all I ask,” Eddie chuckles before moving his hands to your waist to move your body closer to himself. “Now, don’t kill me again, but I didn’t read the chapter. Or the book, so,” he elongated the last word while looking at you with feign-innocence with his doe eyes and pursed lips.

One thing you unknowingly did admit, was just how easily you were able to fall for his manipulative ways.

-:-:-:-:-

As Eddie waited in his van for you to come out of band practice, all he could think about was how strange you’ve been acting throughout the day. You were always one to talk to him in shy tones as he would talk your ear off in any given conversation. Today was different though, and he wasn’t able to place a finger on it. What hurt him most was when you reacted to his touch by moving your leg away — a move you haven’t done in the years you had gotten used to his touch. Then, you didn’t join him for lunch like you did every Monday and Friday, since the other days you would be asked to join the band or church group tables.

Something was off, and Eddie feels like it has something to with the downcast image of you walking through Hawkins on Sunday afternoon. Today, he was going to figure it out.

Ever since the man found out his locker was next to yours on the first day of Freshman year, The Dealer became obsessed with you. Not that you noticed him often — Eddie was notorious for skipping class so much that even though you went to your locker between every class, you would only see him once a day during that year of high school. However, he definitely noticed you: your shyness, the way you kept your head down as you roamed the hallways to the next period, and how you had a tendency of jumping a little every time you closed your locker and saw him standing there at his.

The small silver crucifix that was dangling on your neck was the icing on the cake for Eddie. Realizing then, that you were an innocent Angel who went to Bible study and mass every week. While he could only ask God why He put him in such a shitty place with even shittier parents.

Your innocence astounded him — like when people would joke around about how you didn’t know what sex was, all you would do is blush; or how one time a Senior basketball player walked up to your locker and invited you on a date. He was infamous for keeping a list of all the girls he took the virginities of, and you were his next target. The only thing you did though, was thank him and tell him that Bible study was scheduled to be a long one this week so you would rather go to that.

Something possessive leaped out of Eddie that day as he overheard the conversation from behind the metal door. He had to have you, had to know what it was like to roam your mind. He would do anything to make sure you were his.

So he did. Slowly, as the days passed, he would start talking to you more, trying to get you out of your little shell. You were so quiet that sometimes he would need to get close to your figure as you spoke — not that he minded of course. Eddie genuinely did love your innocence and how you didn’t even realize that he was being a flirtatious pervert when he complimented you. That every time he mentioned you were wearing something nice that day, he would go home and picture fucking you in only that piece of clothing or jewelry. His favourite, being the image of you wearing only that tiny silver crucifix you both loved so much.

Then there were the touches you had grown accustomed to. Eddie would invite you to sit with him during lunch — where he would lightly touch your fingers as he went to steal a fry off your tray. Afterwards, he would take his perverted compliments further, by straightening out the fabric of your skirt or shirt collar for you even if it just came from the dry cleaners. The Dealer would do anything to have an excuse to caress your skin for one moment.

You had asked him one day when you had visited his home to watch a movie: “you touch me a lot, why?”

“Do you not like it? Sorry, I just really enjoy—” if he wasn’t already worried about the fact that you were in his trailer for the first time, his heart dropped at the thought that you might hate him for his touch.

“No,” you would never want to make Eddie feel guilty for his actions. Youth group lessons taught you better than that, since it was only right to be accepting of everyone. “What I mean is, I don’t see many other friends do that with each other and I feel bad for them.”

It was his turn to be curious now. “What do you mean?”

“Your touches are nice, Eddie, so soft and sweet. I wish that all people would feel as nice as this with their friends too.” Look at you being charitable with your experiences — when these touches were only meant for you.

“That’s what friends do, they find ways to make their friends feel good.”

“Do you want me to do it for you too?” you reach out to touch his shoulder awkwardly, but you weren’t one to enjoy touching other people yourself.

“Not if you don’t want to. You make me feel good by being there for me when I need it. While I do the same for you, when you need someone to support you,” it’s true; even through all his indecent intentions, Eddie truly found an innocent and friendly warmth within himself for you, besides his love of wanting to be more than friends.

You look at him with sweet eyes to innocently ask the next question. “Then may you please rub my back like you do sometimes? It makes my heartbeat calm down and this movie is scary.”

“Of course, Angel,” it was right then, Eddie realized how much he loved it when you were needy.

“I wish I could have you do this whenever my cousins want to watch horror movies with me. Honestly, my parents don’t even know I’m here. But I just like your tou–”

“Tsk tsk, so naughty. Where do they think you are?”

“Am not,” you exclaimed and Eddie could tell your heart was beating a lot faster than before so he started to rub sweet circles on your back. “Plus, they think I’m watching a movie at a friend’s house, just don’t know who. It’s not a lie. I’m still a good girl.”

“Yes, you are,” he proclaimed deeply, realizing his rebel tendencies have inspired you. While you nearly moaned as your heartbeat stabilized, his touch and his voice made you feel so much better.

When Eddie was home alone that night, he couldn’t stop replaying the small whimpers of yours he memorized. If it was the hormones, or your innocent eagerness to be alone with him and let him touch you — he would never know which one he loved more.

Eddie was a sinner, he knew that, and was able to empower himself with the label. No matter how many times people around Hawkins would rebuke him as the Devil, or how often he would get stares from kids at school as he started to talk to you more: none of it phased him. What he loved most about you was how easily your innocence became obliviousness when it came to his sins – that you would hear about them and refuse to believe he was such a bad person because he was always so nice to you. Eddie couldn’t seem to understand why.

What he did understand though, was that his biggest sin was that every damn day of his life he was on the path of no return when it came to wanting to corrupt your virtue. To make all of his fantasies become a reality as he wanted to slowly make you addicted to him.

Did you figure it out? Is that why you were so awkward with him throughout the day? Why did you beg for his familiar touch in his memories, but pull away today?

Eddie’s mind moved at a million miles a minute, unsure of what was going on. But one thing was for sure: he was going to find out exactly what was hurting you, and he was going to do everything in his power to relieve that pain.

A small tap on the driver door window brought him out of his overstimulated thoughts. “Are you ready to go?” Your voice was muffled by the barrier, but Eddie was able to hear you before nodding.

He chuckled at your tendency to knock everywhere before you entered. Even with the van, you never approached it first unless he was already in it, or opened the door for you — that was mainly because The Dealer wanted to have some semblance of being a gentleman to you, even if he took that opportunity to touch your back to guide you into your seat.

“So the library?” Eddie asked as he watched you put your bag on the floor and straighten your skirt in the seat, not looking him in the eye as you respond.

“Y-yeah, it probably won’t be crowded since it’s a Monday.”

You were wrong, so wrong. It looks like all of the English teachers assigned similar group projects to their classes, since the library was filled to the brim with students from all grades cooped up at tables. You started to get nervous, the library was going to be your saving grace as you worked on this project.

“Should we go to my place?” He asked while tugging on the strap of your backpack lightly to get your attention.

“No,” you exclaimed a little too loudly, shocking Eddie a bit. “We can j-just go to mine instead.”

If you two finished the tasks at his trailer, then you felt as if it was walking into the Devil’s lair — a place where Eddie sinned like your parents said he did. The memories of the times your friend made you feel warm were enough to commit your treacherous acts; goodness knows how you’ll be when you’re in a room where everything is him.

While bringing the Devil reincarnate into your home wasn’t the best idea, your house had your Bible and other religious paraphernalia to protect you from giving into temptation. But, that’s also the place where you committed your unknowing sin, night after night — you thought.

These conflicting thoughts were about to be the death of you, as long as the annoying throbbing between your legs and Eddie’s teasingly sinister voice didn’t get you first.

-:-:-:-:-

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 233

It is with heavy heart that I announce: This it. The actual journey of the Ark ends here.  There will be 1 more chapter after this to wrap up what everyone will be screaming and cursing at me for after you read this.

And then we will be done.

This is where you want to scroll down to the Read More if you don’t want to read the sappy stuff.

I started this story in, wildly, 2016. I had no intention of it being this long - it was initially meant to be a one shot response to a writing prompt. I was doing that a lot at first, but this stuck with me. And as a result, I have made incredible friends that I never could have imagined, developed a ton as a writer, and found something to hang on to when my life got crazy. Through too many deaths, losing family and gaining family, and through learning what I really believe when the chips are down.

I have accidentally predicted a pandemic, my future job, a national schism, and the billionaire space race.

And I have not, even once, accidentally saved the world.

To you. To me. To us. If you found even a little solace, or space, or saw a part of yourself in this story: To you, most specifically. Always and forever, to you.

“Hannah has everyone on Level Eighteen, Alistair is bringing up the rear,” Xiomara announced. “Everyone is carrying as much as they can. The comic books didn’t make it.”

I swore softly and shook my head the best I could. “We can manage without those,” I admitted begrudgingly.

“Sophia, you just signed up to teach Comics as Literature,” Eino announced.

“I - “

“Try to stop her,” Tyche cut me off. “Ignore the protests, she’ll do it.”

“Seven Eko-mari troopers left,” Charly sounded off. “But I wouldn’t suggest getting a craving for wings.”

“How much longer do we have before we have to give up and evacuate Level Seventeen?” Arthur demanded.

“Ten minutes.”

Charly’s laugh at Huynh’s response shot ice down my spine. “More than enough. Give us three to finish up, plus four to get everyone to Sixteen.”

The Ark rocked and Maverick growled. “You have five, total. Push the fight to relative port. Hannah, have everyone seal up and cross on the starboard side.”

“Maverick,” Hannah responded, clearly at the end of her impressive patience. “The ship is a spiral.  Skipping levels isn’t an option.”

Conor took over. “BioLab 6 is along the relative starboard side of Seventeen. You can cross through there.”

“That’s breached,” Arthur shouted.

“The whole damned level is leaking like a sieve and barely hanging on. It’s cross there, or risk losing almost half our people.” Conor’s tone was apparently familiar to Arthur, because he just nodded and started rattling off updates and directions again.

“Four minutes,” Maverick counted off. “Charly, Hannah, as soon as you are clear of the freighters, tell us. The same second, you got it? This is going to be… fun.”

“Mister Okima,” Alistair huffed through the comms. “I am not preferable to your idea of ‘fun’.”

“And I don’t like your idea of living,” Maverick snapped. “Get off the comms, dude. Yell at me later. I’ll even sedate Sophie so you can.”

“Hey!”

“I love you, but people with a triple digit count of near death experiences don’t get a vote right now…” His tone was sing-song, despite how tensely he was clenching both his jaw and the controls. Several people on Level One had to stifle laughs, situation be damned. “Ix’al, Brol. Status updates.”

“We’ve lost ten cargo vessels, prayers to their souls,” Brol answered. “We can recoup the credits, but lives lost are lost forever.”

A very quiet amen crossed the deck, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one hoping that it translated as something conciliatory and appropriate.

“Where are we on the data bomb?” Arthur forged ahead.

“Xale informs that most of their fleet has been infected, but the dreadnought has too many firewalls.”

“Pranav, you still have that dead man switch ready to go?”

“If my heart stops, Alice has thirty seconds to give the override command,” came the grim confirmation. “I have sent the command to her phonetically.”

“Dark but precise,” Evan added. “I like it. Two minutes thirty and counting. Charly!”

“They’re as clear as they’re going to get, and it won’t get better if you don’t leave me alone!”

“Michael!”

“I second that!” he shouted against the background of the wailing damned. “How the fuck are they screaming in vacuum?”

By this point, Grey had to be numb. It was the only explanation for their calm tone. “Bioacoustics reverberating through the hull once they are in contact, then coming up through your feet.”

“Zip fighters converging!” Arthur interrupted. “Targeting the drive!”

“Hannah!”

“Ten more…. Move your asses and the one behind you!” she shouted.

My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I turned to Alice. I had never heard Hannah raise her voice.

Apparently, Alice hadn’t heard her angry, because she was just as pale.

“Seven!” she continued. “Alistair, get our ass over here or I will come get you!  Five! We have one tenth gee, through the fucking box!”

“Ha - “

“Get your ass through this door right now, or so help me I will let you die!”

My mouth snapped shut, and I slammed the mute to her so that no one could speak to her. There was a tone, there at the end, that I did know, and it wasn’t anger.

Again, I was second to that conclusion, because Alice was halfway across the deck and screaming to get out. “Hannah, no….”

“Hannah is through!” Charly confirmed.

Alice whirled, face flushed and tears streaking down her face. “Hannah is not through until that level is sealed. She will go back to get people.”

That was all Charly needed. She snapped a nod. “Michael! Abandon combat, evacuate your team to starboard. Take Hannah Bodenheimer with you, by force if necessary.”

“Two minutes!” Evan counted off.

“We can do it,” Michael confirmed. “GK can run this under one point five, we can do it in point one.”

“I’m covering from behind,” Jokul’s voice cut in. When someone started to object, he forged ahead. “I suffer the least from gravity sickness, and I am the largest. I can push everyone if need be.”

“You’ll get shot - “

“They don’t have kinetics and he’s wearing fur if they use electrics,” Charly snapped. “He’s a big boy, he can take a punch. Go!”

“Where is engineering?” I asked, panicked.

“Fourteen,” came several voices. The majority conceded to Huynh. “It won’t hold everyone, but your man is protected.”

That worked. “When everyone is clear of Level Seventeen, don’t even bother finding a shelter, just strap yourself to the nearest solid object with whatever you have handy,” I demanded.

“Thirty seconds!”

As much as I adored Evania Josue, right now I was cursing her with everything from crotch fleas to moist dermatitis.

“Twenty seconds!”

“CLEAR!” Hannah’s voice shouted. “I have Alistair, but lost a religious text. Mona has a spare, he’ll live.”

“Ten seconds! Brace for - something. Just brace!”

One deep inhale later, I was being pushed against my ersatz-seatback with the force of an invisible hand, and it wasn’t gentle. Those not secured were swept up by the walls, and then across the floor.

“Braking maneuver completed! Conor, status!” Mav panted, shaking out his hands and flexing his fingers.

“Drives are getting hot from the backwash, hull integrity at Level Seventeen is below forty percent,” he rattled off before his tone became stern. “If you do that again, we won’t have any drives.”

“There may be no choice,” Xiomara muttered. “Pranav, where are we at?”

“We are as close to ready as we will ever be.”

“Ix’al, Brol. Do we know if what that databomb does will take out their dreadnought?”

Ix’al responded this time. “There is only thirty percent chance that it will stop their vessel, and less than one percent that it will force it to jump.”

“That is beneficial to the Ark,” Odvub added, confusing the hell out of me and apparently several other people, judging by the noises I heard.

“Clarify?” Xiomara asked, as a member of the Confused Contingent.

“If the Eko-mari dreadnought were to be forced into a jump at this distance, it would force the core of the Ark to breach, killing everyone on the vessel.” The clarification was the opposite of comforting, and - joy of joys - it continued. “Additionally, there are still two infected Eko-mari vessels embedded in the hull of the Ark. They are small, but will still cause an estimated additional five percent loss in hull integrity.  Due to evacuation status of that level, no loss of life is anticipated.”

Arthur rubbed his face forcefully with both hands. “Maverick, Alice, is this the best we can expect?”

“Unless you are getting out to push, pretty much,” Alice confirmed after a brief glance at Mav.

It was only because I had swiveled my head over to the person speaking that I caught the frantic smacks Tyche administered to both our pilots, followed by the looks Maverick and Evan shared.

Oblivious, Xiomara started to speak. “Pranav - “

“BELAY!” Maverick shouted, more forceful than I had ever heard him. “S’crirs fleet, evacuate the field of combat, by any means necessary.  Do not - I repeat - do not allow any Eko-mari ship close enough to sweep you in their well when this goes off! Do not respond, three minute delay.”

“Maverick - “

“Xiomara, respectfully, those are your allies, and you have given battlefield command over to me.” He glanced at Alice, who nodded, before he continued. “That virus is in their ships, and it will go off no matter what once triggered. There is no reason for them to walk through a minefield for us when they can get out of the blast range without changing the outcome.”

“The dreadnought.”

“Is my responsibility,” he doubled-down. “As is this ship, her integrity, and every life out there. With all due respect, I refuse your command as unlawful under Pan American Uniform Code of Conduct.”

She blinked, shook her head, and blinked again.  Finally, she slowly raised her hands in surrender. “I am relieved of duty,” she rasped hoarsely before lowering herself to a seat and hooking her ankles beneath it.

“What the fuck just happened?” Parvati hissed to me, shaking my arm.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly for a moment, trying to recall. “Pan American Uniform Code of Conduct… Oh. Oh.” When I remembered what it was, I swallowed heavily. “Maverick just relieved her of duty due to… I think commanding a course of action that is illegal under Global Parliament rules of engagement?”

“A war crime!?” she hissed again.

“To keep her from committing one,” I clarified. “He refused an unlawful order, and then relieved her of duty to remove… her from chain of command? Technically on medical grounds, I think? Basically, he formally declared she isn’t in the right frame of mind to be giving commands during combat, and she agreed.”

“And if she hadn’t…?”

“Not a lawyer, but I can guess it wouldn’t be great.”

“Not insurrection, I’ll take it.”

“S’crirs!” Maverick called out, oblivious to our hurried debate. “One minute! Please confirm!”

“We still have ships in range.” Brol was as close to despondent as the translation software could get.

Arthur started switching feet impatiently. “How close can you get to dreadnought without getting shot?”

“With absolute certainty? Further is preferable.”

“With fifty percent certainty,” he insisted. “With your craziest pilots and a lot of hope, how close?”

Brol burbled for a moment. “If we maintain shields, we would still be out of the dreadnought’s gravity well.”

“Drop the shields. Let’s be really crazy.”

“We would be vulnerable to enemy fire.”

Arthur sighed. “Ask Xale, please? Because without that, you’ll be vulnerable to the fact that the enemy sucks, in the worst possible literal sense.”

Ix’al’s voice was next. “Xale insists that if we evacuate the cargo vessels and place them on programming without shields, they may survive, and we would avoid the most casualties.”

“Do it!” I screamed, realising what Maverick was suggesting. “Fewest lives at risk, lossable targets, and it will give a distraction while everyone else gets the hell out of dodge.”

“Thirty seconds,” Maverick counted off. “And I can’t delay that. The Ark will come apart if I don’t do something soon, and right now I can’t change her trajectory.”

Tyche’s head twitched like she was following a particularly close fly. “Maverick. Maintain course for one additional minute.”

“The Ark - “

“Ninety seconds. That’s what we need. Sending plan now.”

It took all of five seconds - the heaviest, longest five seconds I could recall - for him to scan her idea. “S’crirs fleet. You have ninety seconds from mark.  And…. mark!”

Odvub’s voice shimmered across us. “Pirate vessels drawing in proximity to Eko-mari dreadnought, closer than safety protocols. Eko-mari fleet is diverting to those vessels. Communications suspect mass retaliatory detonation of cores - “

“We really should have thought of that,” Arthur muttered.

“Programming now,” Brol apparently agreed. “Our populated vessels are beyond all Eko-mari gravity wells.”

“Pranav!” Maverick turned his attention. “Activate data bomb in five.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Brace!”

The Ark rocked and klaxons blared violently, yanking the ship side to side like a car fishtailing on a flat road. “Embedded vessels micro-jumped before detonation,” Huynh confirmed. “Hull integrity at thirty-three percent.”

“Drive cores detonated,” Brol added. “Increased damage to Eko-mari dreadnought due to proximity.”

“No Eko-mari ships detected beyond dreadnought,” Arthur huffed, fighting to keep his balance. “No loss of S’crirs fleet detected beyond intended. Fleet confirm.”

“Confirmed.”

“I am thrilled to know everyone is okay.” Conor’s voice was entirely genuine. “But at this speed, when we hit the gravity well of the star, the Ark is going to come apart and we’ll be face planting into a nuclear bomb.”

“If that dreadnought doesn’t take us out first,” Arthur agreed. “We’re basically in a race for who kills us faster, Maverick: them or us, and they have the lead.”

“Thought you grew up in Pan Am, Farro.” Maverick ground out. When I focused on them, it was clear that both he and Evan were holding the ship on course with force of will, a firm grip, and determination.

“Former California region…” Arthur said hesitantly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“All hands, brace for maneuver.”

I scrabbled for purchase with not only my hands, but in a vain attempt to brace my feet against structures just too far to apply any force to. It was nothing compared to the efforts of some, who were nowhere near a solid surface despite nearly forty hours of Maverick’s piloting.

“Okima, what does that have to do with anything?” Arthur asked again.

“Batter up,” Mav grunted.

Evan shouted, “Acceleration maneuver, mark!”

As I watched, it looked like the force of the maneuver was pulling Tyche’s body into a sitting position.  I honestly thought nothing of it, at first, because I was so focused on the pilots and listening for any sounds of damage - like the Ark falling apart.

It was when her arm drifted into Evan’s field of vision, only to be swatted away to drift, that I started freaking out. “Tyche!” I shouted. “TYCHE!”

Almost reluctantly, one of her arms pulled in, and her hand clenched to put one finger across her lips. “Shh,” she admonished quietly. “It’s all or nothing now. Just watch.”

“Watch wh-”

Klaxons. Again. “Hull integrity below ten percent. Full breach beginning at Level Seventeen.”

“EVAN!” Maverick shouted suddenly. “CRANK IT!”

All at once, the Ark wrenched to the side and lurched forward. What I could only describe as a full body - full ship? - shudder sent tremors through everyone and everything.

“We’ve lost the drives!” Conor shouted. “Repeat - we’ve lost the drives! They are on a direct collision course for - Mav you son of a bitch!”

“It. Was. Tyche’s. Idea,” Maverick ground out as he forced the Ark on course with Evan’s assistance. “It. Was going. To tear. Loose. Anyway.”

“Pilot Okima,” Noah buzzed in a hideous tone that sounded like flat out panic. “The Ark is not on trajectory for a gravity brake.”

“We’re aware!” Evan forced out. “We should be on course to hit the steam on the hot side!”

“Drives to strike Eko-mari dreadnought in ninety seconds,” Odvub advised.

Evan nodded. “And that should make us fast enough to keep from being yanked into the atmosphere!”

“There is no data to support your conclusions,” Noah insisted angrily.

“Sure there is,” Maverick gasped. “We do this all the time.”

“There is no record of any human using planetary gravity to safely land a vessel,” came the retort.

Arthur started laughing insanely, only to be joined by Charly and Huynh, sparking concerns for everyone’s mental health.

Even our co-pilot was grinning maniacally. “Stop looking for safe landings, and start looking for controlled crashes.”

“Drive collision with Eko-mari dreadnought in three… two… one.”

The closest I could come to describing what happened next was a lurch. Except, we never stopped lurching - it was like riding a slingshot, waiting to see how long the shot lasted. Everyone who wasn’t secured was plastered against the same wall of Level One, grimacing against the pressure.

“Eko-mari dreadnought destroyed.”

I would have cheered if I could draw a breath to do it. They were gone.

“Hitting Kepler Four Four Two gravity well in four.”

Wait, what?

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

A jolt, and the pressure gave up slightly. “Trajectory on course for Von,” Evan gasped. “It won’t be pretty, but we’re on course. No bodies in system to divert course.”

“Please tell me we are on course for the cold side?” I begged miserably.

“Not enough atmo,” Evan argued. “We need the cushion on the hot side. Tropical steam is thick.”

“And no mosquitos,” Tyche added dreamily. “It will be nice, right?”

I cut her a glare, knowing she wouldn’t see it. “Gotta live to enjoy it. That whole thing.”

“On track for Von atmosphere in ten minutes,” Odvub advised.

Charly rallied herself to come over and physically shake me into action - at least until Antoine swatted at her and said something about puncturing a lung.  To be fair, he was irritated enough that he could have meant hers.

“All hands,” I gasped over comms. “Ten minutes under current acceleration to brace for impact with atmosphere.” Taking another breath, I groaned a bit. “We trained for years under more pressure than this,” I assured the ship as much as myself. “We can at least get to safe locations to brace. The safe rooms are open on Levels Three through Ten. Full of smooshy shit. All the water and hard things have been taken out.”

As much as I wanted to get up and help, Antoine only double checked my bandages and pulled a few knots tighter to make sure I didn’t, in fact, get up. One conciliation was stuffing something soft between my spine and bench I was braced against. “Pillow from bunk room,” he added shortly. “We can’t heal spine fractures if this goes right.”

I didn’t even bother trying to ask what would happen if this went wrong.

“Life pods have made impact,” Odvub provided. “Locations centered on the pole designated From, beacons are being tracked by the S’crirs fleet.”

“Noted,” Arthur muttered as he moved to sit against the wall being indicated by slowly flashing lights.

The entrance to Level One irised open, startling everyone. When several people moved toward the door in defensive postures, three hands reached through - two with short stubby fingers, one spidery with too many joints. “I am coming to assist in securing everyone against impact,” Noah buzzed, this time coming from the door rather than the ceiling.

“Five minutes,” Maverick updated us around the time that most people were in secure grips and thick, mushroom feet were vanishing into the deck.

Eino, of all people, struggled the most, insisting that everyone else be secured before he was. Finally, he briskly walked over to Arthur and shoved him to deck, using only the element of surprise. “You are no use dead,” Eino admonished. “Secure your own mask before assisting others.”

“Three minutes.”

Arthur opened his mouth to argue, but Eino shook his head in a - motherly? - disapproval. “No. We are controlling the crash. There are no tactics. There is only surviving.”

More bewildered than I had every seen him, Arthur slowly stood and made his way to where everyone else was being secured against impact. Eino followed closely, waited until he seemed satisfied that his mentee was safe, then surrendered to Noah’s insistence.

“Two.”

“Mav,” I shouted. “You’ve gotta be secured.”

“Noah can secure me here,” he argued. “We still have minor attitude thrust, and I’ll need them to the last minute.”

“Evan, talk some sense into him!”

She shook her head determinedly. “Same here. We go down, I go down.”

“One.”

“Noah!” I screamed. “Do something! Sedate them!”

“I regret that we have very little control of the Ark at this time,” Noah admitted as two of their bodies went to the pilots, both basically sitting on Tyche to secure her to the deck before wrapping all limbs around the pilots as carefully as possible without restricting their arms. “If they state they can improve our chances of survival, I have no choice but to acquiesce.”

“MAVERICK!” I begged. “Please, please…. I know we need you now, but I need you after this. Conor needs you after this. We need you to live…”

“Brace for impact in thirty seconds.”

“NO!” I kept screaming, shouting for Maverick and Tyche until my voice until the last second.

“Impact in ten.”

“Tyche!”

“Nine.”

“GODS DAMMIT, LET ME GO!”

“Eight.”

“NO! NOOO! GODS DAMMIT, I’LL KILL YOU!”

“Seven.”

“Please,” I sobbed. “Please… one of you, both of you…”

“Six.”

“Mav, please.” I could barely breathe, and the last thing I was thinking about was impact.

“Five.”

“TYCHE!” I tried shouting. “This isn’t funny.”

“Four.”

“Sophia, stop!” Arthur shouted. “You’ll kill them if they get up.”

“Three.”

“FUCK YOU!” I spat at my best friend, the taste of metal sharp in my mouth.

“Two.”

I tried to draw a breath, but choked on the blood in my throat.

“One.”

Everything in me shook with pain, and then it was all black.

<<Prev       Masterlist     Next>>

[marauderundercover]

This Side of Normal Ch. 8

AO3

Prev

Marinette was seriously considering murder. She was pretty sure Jason would be able to help her hide the body, he was a lot stronger than her. But murder was seriously on the table. Why has she decided to break that one golden rule, you might ask? Lila Rossi. The bane of her existence. The very reason they were spending two fucking weeks in the crime capital of the world instead of their original destinations. But no, Lila just had to convince Mme. Bustier to take them to Gotham. And then, as if making Marinette plan a million things last minute wasn’t bad enough, Lila decided to talk. Nonstop. Throughout the entire first half of their tour of Wayne Enterprises. The only thing keeping her from strangling the girl right now was the promise of coffee in the cafeteria. She didn’t need food, she needed coffee. And then she’d go right back to plotting murder. Would anyone look in the river for her body? 

“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure you shouldn’t do it.” Adrien says, pulling her out of her murder plot. She glares at him. 

“I’m planning a murder, and I don’t appreciate you interrupting me.” She deadpans. 

“Murder’s bad, Mari. We don’t murder people.” Adrien sighs, throwing an arm over her shoulders. 

“Maybe you don’t murder people. I’m thinking about branching out.” She hums, getting in the line for coffee. Adrien huffs and grabs her arm, tugging her behind him. She immediately starts whining, reaching out towards the coffee booth. 

“Mari, you need actual food. You can have coffee after you eat something. I know for a fact you didn’t eat breakfast.” He says, staring her down. She huffs, crossing her arms. 

“You’re not my dad.” She mumbles, turning away from him. 

“Why the hell are you all pouty?” Jason asks, walking up to the two. Marinette smiles briefly, then drops her face back into a scowl. 

“Someone is keeping me from my coffee.” She says. 

“Good job kid!” Jason says, high fiving Adrien. Marinette’s jaw drops at the betrayal. 

“Honestly rude. Guess I’m not gonna ask you to help me anymore.” She says, sighing dramatically. 

“Help with what?” He asks, frowning. 

“Murder. She wants to commit a murder.” Adrien says, rolling his eyes. 

“Who’re we killing?” Jason asks. This time it’s Adrien’s turn to drop his jaw, Marinette laughing loudly. 

“Ha! I told you Jay would help me!” She cheers, shooting Adrien a smug smile. 

“Marinette! Lila needs your help carrying her tray.” Mme. Bustier instructs, walking over to the trio. Marinette immediately frowns, looking over at Lila who was carrying a tray. Just fine. 

“Uh, looks like she’s got it.” She says, nodding towards the liar. 

“Well, she got it okay, but she needs someone to carry it to her table for her.” Mme. Bustier says, frowning. 

“And one of her friends can do it. I’m not getting out of line for my own lunch just to carry Lila’s tray Mme. Bustier.” Marinette argues, crossing her arms. 

“Marinette-” She starts, then stops when she realizes Jason isn’t one of the students. “Very well. But we’re going to talk about this later.” She adds before walking away. Marinette rolls her eyes. 

“Is she the one we’re murdering?” Jason asks, leaning down a little so he could whisper. 

“Nope. The one whose tray I was supposed to carry is the one on my list.” Mari says, nodding towards the girl who was now fake crying. 

“Jesus. How does anyone put up with her?” He asks, face curling in disgust. Marinette shrugs. 

“At first I thought she was Meta. Now I think my classmates are just idiots.” She says simply. Jason snorts. 

“I believe that. I’m gonna go grab you a coffee. As much as I’d love to help you commit a murder, pretty sure the boss would be pissed.” He says, ruffling her hair before walking away. Marinette turns to Adrien and gives him a smug smile. 

“Ha, bitch.” She says, snorting as he starts spluttering. 

“You can’t just say that, Bug!” He whines, before turning to order his food. Marinette snorts. 

“Sure I can.” She says in English, before quickly switching to Mandarin and lowering her voice. “I’m a seventeen year old ex-superhero, I’m allowed to say bitch.” Adrien just snorts, thanking the lady and grabbing his food so that Marinette can order. Once she has her food, she follows Adrien to an almost empty table in the corner farthest away from their classmates. She smiles at the person at the other end of the table, Dick Grayson. He was their tour guide and had dealt with their annoying ass class surprisingly well. She was tempted to make him a certificate if he lasted til the end of the day without losing his sanity. Plopping down in her seat, she starts eating her food slowly, watching Jason across the room at the coffee booth. 

“Mari, he said he would get you coffee. He’s gonna get you coffee.” Adrien says, nudging her side to try and get her to actually eat. 

“You don’t think he’d get me decaf, do you?” She asks, remembering the time he’d brought coffee to one of their late night training sessions. It was decaf then, he claimed that she needed to be able to sleep after training. She argued that she needed to stay awake and do homework and commissions and some lameass decaf coffee was not going to help her do that. She just hoped he would take pity on her and get her actual coffee this time. 

“I think I’d get you decaf,” Adrien starts, dodging her attempt to whack him. “But, I think Jay’s a little nicer than me today. Probably since he hasn’t seen us in awhile.” He muses. Marinette stops trying to attack him, nodding in agreement. He’d be more likely to give her decaf tomorrow than today. So it was still safe to trust her coffee order to him. For now. 

“I’m sorry, did you say Jay?” Mr. Grayson asks, catching her attention. She glances at Adrien who just shrugs. She knew the two had talked earlier, but she really didn’t want to accidentally get Jay in trouble. 

“Uh, yes?” She says, wincing at the awkwardness. 

“You know Jason.” He says, and she nods, frowning. 

“Yeah, we got to know him last year when he was on a business trip in Paris.” She explains, dodging around the whole ‘he trained us as heroes and then found out our identities and helped us take down a supervillain’ part of it. “We ended up getting close and we’ve kept in contact over the last year.” Mari adds, confused as to why Mr. Grayson looks so lost. 

“Really?” He finally asks. 

“Yeah. He’s basically like our big brother.” Adrien adds, obviously sensing that Marinette was getting uncomfortable. 

“Hey Dick, long time no see.” Jason snarks, putting Mari’s coffee in front of her and plopping down in the seat next to Adrien. 

“Jason. So you have two new siblings?” He asks, gesturing to Mari and Adrien. Jason nods. 

“Yup. And they’re loads better than you lot. Pixie Pop here even said I could help her with her first murder.” Jason teases. Marinette’s face instantly heats up, as she turns her glare to Jason. 

“Jason!” She hisses. He’s lucky he’s on the other side of Adrien. 

“Wait, you two are brothers?” Adrien asks, and Marinette blinks. Oh, yeah. Wait, what. 

“You didn’t know?” Dick asks. Adrien looks at Mari who shrugs. She definitely hadn’t known. She’d assumed Dick was one of Jason’s bosses. 

“Yeah, unfortunately this dipshit is my older brother. Adopted, of course.” Jason says. 

“We also have two other brothers and a sister. And some unofficial siblings.” Dick adds, making Mari raise an eyebrow. 

“All adopted?” She asks. Adoption was no joke. It was crazy expensive in the US. 

“All but one. B kinda adopts every dark haired, blue eyed kid with trauma that he meets.” Jason says, smirking at Marinette’s face. 

“I’m feeling attacked right now. Are you attacking me? If anyone has enough trauma to be adopted by a serial adopter, it’s Adrien. Not me.” She says with a pout. 

“Hey!” Adrien objects. Marinette looks pointedly at his arm. 

“Your arm was cut off by your supervillain father who was an emotional terrorist for over three years. That’s a shit ton of trauma.” She says as he pouts. 

“Yeah, but if I get adopted in the US, I’d never see you anymore.” He points out. 

“But you’d see me all the time.” Jason teases. Adrien grins. 

“That’s right! Okay, sorry M, I’m gonna get adopted here.” He says with a wide grin. 

“Traitors, the both of you. Mr. Grayson, how’d you like a new little sister? I’m officially disowning both of these losers.” Marinette says, ignoring the indignant squawks from Adrien. Dick snorts, a wide grin stretching across his face. 

“Sure kid. And call me Dick. Do you happen to know any acrobatics?” He asks with a teasing grin. Mari smirks. 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” She says. Dick freezes before a huge smile makes its way onto his face, his whole body shaking in excitement. 

“Wait, really? You’re serious?” He asks. She nods. “That’s awesome! Sorry Jay, I’m stealing this one.” He says. Jason scowls. 

“I don’t think so. I’ve known Pixie Pop longer, therefore, she’s my sister.” He says. Adrien clears his throat. “Our sister.” Jason amends, nodding to Adrien. 

“But she’s an acrobat! You know I’ve been looking for someone to teach trapeze to!” Dick whines. Mari’s eyes light up and she starts bouncing in her seat. 

“Wait, trapeze? Seriously? Where? Oh my god, that would be so much fun!” She squeals, suddenly actually excited about being in Gotham. 

“We have one at our house, you guys have to come over! I could show you the basics.” Dick suggests, still grinning. Marinette turns to Jason, waiting to see what he’d say. If Dick didn’t know Jason, she’d never consider going over and learning trapeze. But since he’s Jason’s brother…..

“Ugh, fine. But if B ends up trying to adopt both of you, you can’t blame me. I wanted to keep you away from him. You’re the one who got suckered in by the damn trapeze.” Jason gripes, leaning back in his seat. Marinette just grins at him before turning back to Dick to figure out the specifics. Maybe this trip wouldn’t be that bad.

Next

Tag list (open): @toodaloo-kangaroo @laurcad123 @kittenmywaythrulife @lost-in-the-world-of-maribat @queenz-z

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Do you have any good coffee shop au fics? Danke schön!

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh, Coffee Shop AUs aren't totally my thing, BUT I did find a couple I loved, and I've a few on my MFL list that's tagged with Coffee Shop. Check it out, and feel free to add more, friends!

COFFEE SHOP AU

See also:

Coffee Shop AU (Updated Nov 2020) (COMM RECS)

Coffee Shop AU Fics (Alexx's)

Coffee Shop AU – Part 2 (Alexx's)

Teenlock Coffeeshop AU (Alexx's)

Caffeine and Adaptive Programming by DemonicSymphony (E, 5,540 w., 1 Ch. || Androids AU / Bond Fusion || Android Sherlock, Coffee Shop AU, Pining John Hinted Bond / Q, Toplock) – Sherlock is a coffee shop android slowly falling for a regular customer. But he's not supposed to be able to feel emotions.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

-----

MARKED FOR LATER (TO READ)

Espresso Patronum by zigostia (T, 1,750 w., 1 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || Clueless Sherlock) – “I'm joking,” John said breezily. “Girl's name or not. I don't mind, if you know what I mean.” “Ah,” Sherlock said with uncertainty.

Giveaway Fic #4 - Coffee Shop/Mary Has Left/Sherlock Is Not Okay by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 2,498 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Everyone is Unhappy, Happy Ending) – They sit in silence for a moment. Sherlock fumbles a sugar packet when he tries to get it into his coffee. He looks up to find John staring at him. “It’s… good to see you, John,” he tries. John doesn’t look at him; he’s too busy looking at the way Sherlock’s hands are trembling. Too late, Sherlock realizes that no matter how well he washed his hair this morning, there’s no hiding his emaciated appearance. “When did you last eat, Sherlock?” John asks, but there’s none of the friendly teasing from Before, only a hard-edged, muted anger. Part 4 of the 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics series

Whatever you say, Gobbo by Ewebie (T, 4,608 w., 1 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || Balletlock, Rugby John) – “I purposely get your coffee order wrong just so you’ll talk to me again” AU. Part 33 of the Tumblr Shorts series

Crossing Paths by prettysailorsoldier (T, 5,346 w., 1 Ch. || Uni/Teenlock Coffee Shop AU || Crosswords, Christmas, Fluff) – It seemed like a great idea, a 24-hour coffee shop near a thriving university campus, but, when everyone goes home for the holidays, John finds himself trapped in a ghost town, wiling away the hours of the overnight shift any way he can. Of course, that gets a whole lot easier when a handsome insomniac starts making regular visits, and, somewhere between the case files, crossword puzzles, and copious amounts of coffee, John discovers he doesn't mind the late shift so much after all.

Not Your Doctor, Not Your Captain by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (E, 8,645 w., 1 Ch. || AU || Daddy John, Barista Sherlock, Legal Age Difference, First Kiss/Time, Blow Jobs, Texting/Phone Sex, Anal, Rimming, Felching, Praise Kink, Hurt/Comfort, Pet Names, Doctor John) – "Coffee for John Watson," a voice calls, a low, deep rumble that sends a shiver down John's spine. The thought is pushed aside, his shoulders sagging at the sight of his long-awaited coffee. "Thank God." His eyes lock with long, elegant fingers around the rim of the cup, dimpling the carton in a way that John can only describe as sensual. It shouldn't be. It's seven-thirty in the bloody morning. "I'm afraid that God had not much to do in making your coffee this morning," the barista replies. "I, on the other hand…"

Percolate by cwb & Ellipsical (E, 13,793+ w., 6/16 Ch. || WiP || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Barista John, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Insecure Sherlock, Patient John, Case Fic, Flirting) – This work is a collaboration between Ellipsical and cwb and promises to be a lighthearted, fun romcom with strong themes of mutual pining, awkward flirting, and panicked impulsiveness. POV will alternate between Sherlock and John; cwb writes Sherlock, Ellipsical writes John.

Mistletoe and Misdemeanours by Robottko (T, 20,738 w., 12 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Coffee Shops, Victor Trevor, First Kiss, Holmes Family, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Drama, Kidnapping) – When Victor Trevor backs out of the Holmes family Christmas at the last minute, Sherlock panics because he has no way to impress his parents. Thankfully there is a handsome army doctor with nowhere to go in his coffee shop, though it would be more helpful if he were a bit more willing.

sherlock and his daddy series by rory_kent (M, 24,433+ w. across 6 works || Series WiP || BDSM / Sugar Daddy AU || Sugar Daddy John, Age Difference, Sub Sherlock, Daddy Kink, Military Kink, Subspace, Hurt/Comfort, Coffee Shop AU, Unilock) – Sherlock didn't mean to upset daddy he really didn't!

A Wizarding Barista's Field Guide to Seducing a Muggle by paradigmfinch (T, 29,344 w., 9 Ch. || Harry Potter Coffee Shop AU || Fluff, Wizard John, Muggle Sherlock, Bisexual John, Flirting, First Dates, Harry Watson, Secret Identity) – To help pay for Healing tuition, John Watson gets a job at a coffee shop in Muggle London, where he soon sets his sights on a particularly gorgeous customer. John's seen plenty of Muggle films. How different can it really be to woo a Muggle?

Four Shots Series by Opy3332 (T, 34,736 w. across 5 works || Series WiP || Coffee Shop AU || MI6, Barista John, Developing Relationship, First Dates) – Series of stories revolving around John and Sherlock meeting under different circumstances--when John takes a job as a barista at SIS headquarters and meets Sherlock there.

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier (E, 43,847 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Rugby/Barista John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Fluff) – Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

Captains of Industry Series by 221b_hound (E, 131,398+ w. across 34 works || Series WiP || Australian Hipster Coffee Shop AU || Barista John, Security Consultant Sherlock, Awkward Flirting, First Kiss/Time, Panicking Sherlock, Patient John, Cuddles, Grooming, Anal, Bathing/Washing, Coming in Pants, Frottage) – Captains of Industry is the most hipster of Melbourne hipster cafes. It's bespoke suits, artisan shoes, sculpted facial hair and the most exquisite food and coffee all the way. Sherlock Holmes, Digital Security Consultant, has become a regular patron. And one day, perhaps one day soon, he will work out how to successfully flirt with the hot barista, John Watson.

[autogynocrat]

You asked yesterday “do u think its too late for an adult to learn a complex language like chinese i read somewhere that when ur brain is done developing u no longer have the plasticity to become fluent in new languages” and it’s an interesting question

First of all the stuff about plasticity is true, the human mouth can make a million sounds and you can’t just process all of them all the time. When you’re born your brain starts to basically process these sounds down based on what it hears. This is why feral children like Genie never learn to speak, they didn’t hear any talking, their brain can’t really process it as anything but noise. There’s a really interesting youtube video on brain plasticity called “you cannot develop perfect pitch.” It’s by a guy named Rick Beato and until I saw it I never wanted to develop perfect pitch hahaha. Basically he shows how you develop perfect pitch by hearing a ton of musical sounds as a child, and you can’t get it later in life by training

There are sounds in Chinese not used in English, and if you hear a lot of spoken Chinese as a child you’ll be able to easily make those sounds and distinguish them from each other in your mind. I never heard a word of Mandarin Chinese until I was a teenager, and there are still sounds I can’t quite tell the difference between, like zh and ch and q in pinyin, they’re the same to me. ü and u too. Here’s another great example: tribal click languages. Have you ever seen The Gods Must Be Crazy? I cannot distinguish between someone clicking their tongue one way vs another way, but there are tribes who mainly communicate through different vocal clicks. By hearing these clicks at a young age, their brain is trained to distinguish all the different intonations

That being said, it’s not even close to impossible. It means it will be harder. A 60 year old woman wanted to read War and Peace in Russian, so she learned Russian. She’s now got a job as a Russian translator. She’s way past the age of brain plasticity and all that, but she had patience and endurance and wanted it. Her name is Mary Hobson. So how bad do you want it? She’s not even unique in this. She’s unique in the fact that she was as old as 60, but plenty of people learn languages in adulthood. There’s a whole youtube genre of “white guy wows Chinese restaurant owners by ordering in perfect Mandarin.”

My guess is if you studied Chinese with real diligence and practiced with Chinese-speaking people, starting at the age of 27, within a few short years you would be able to speak it well. I think you’d have an accent for the rest of your life, but Chinese immigrants speak English with accents, so it’s only fair

Here’s an interesting aspect of the Chinese language: written and spoken Chinese aren’t really connected. There are the characters, each character has a meaning, and each character has a sound in Mandarin Chinese. Each character also has a meaning in Cantonese. A Cantonese-speaker and a Mandarin-speaker could read the same text and understand it perfectly, but they wouldn’t understand each other when speaking. This is why the Chinese government made Mandarin mandatory for all citizens, for unity/conformity. Anyway, the reason this is all relevant is cause of the phoneme thing. Yes, you’d have trouble pronouncing certain words in Chinese, but reading it would be no problem (once you cross the initial hurdle, you’re used to the alphabet, I know. But once you get in the zone it’ll be like decoding encrypted messages).

Chinese grammar is actually really easy. It’s similar to English, but with certain features the make it simpler. For instance, the question word 吗 (ma)，in English I would say “you are thivus,” and if I wanted to ask if you were thivus I would change the word order to be “are you thivus?” In Chinese you say “you are thivus,” and to make it a question you add the question word at the end, like “you are thivus 吗?” Much simpler. Or for quantity they have a question word 几 (ji). So if I wanted to ask “how much soda did you drink” I’d say “you drank 几 bottles of soda?”

Another interesting thing in Chinese is how possessives work. The bigger thing always goes first. So for example, the first line in the Gospel of Mark is “the beginning of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” In Chinese, that passage is rendered “God’s Son, Jesus Christ’s Gospel’s beginning” (神 的 兒 子 ， 耶 穌 基 督 福 音 的 起 頭). I know you’re not Catholic but that’s the only phrase example I know with so many possessives clustered together

In short, you do not have the plasticity to distinguish all the phonemes in Mandarin Chinese, you missed the boat on that. You do have the ability to become fluent at any age, it’s a matter of will. Written Chinese is especially doable.

spoken chinese was more what i was thinking abt because there are a couple songs i like that are in chinese that sound cool and the language just sounds cool to me like theres something aesthetically pleasing abt some of the sounds to me its hard to explain

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (4)

(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5

Chapter 4: Get to Know You

Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.

Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself. 

“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that. 

The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys. 

Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.

Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”

“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”

Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”

“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.

“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”

That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present. 

Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”

Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”

“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!” 

“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.

Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.

“Are you sure you don’t want to-”

The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”

“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.

Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.

Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed. 

“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”

Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”

Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”

Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”

Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.

“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)

Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.

“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”

She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”

Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”

Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel. 

These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.

“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”

“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”

Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.

“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.

Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.

“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.

Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”

Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”

“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”

Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”

Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”

Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing. 

“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.

Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”

Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.

“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”

“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”

“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”

He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.

“Oh, Claude!”

“Are you okay?” 

The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.

“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”

Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”

“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”

Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”

Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.

“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”

“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.

Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”

“Hey!”

Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”

Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.

“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”

Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”

Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”

“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”

“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”

Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.

“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”

“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”

Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”

The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.” 

Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”

Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”

Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.

By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance. 

“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.

Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”

“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch. 

Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”

She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”

The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.

~~~~~~

One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..

Marinette really loved the color pink.

Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!

Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.

When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.

Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were. 

Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.

“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”

Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.

“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.

“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”

Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.

Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”

“It’s got a rail.” 

“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”

Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”

“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.

Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.

“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”

“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”

“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”

“Where who gets what from?” 

Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”

Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”

“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”

Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”

“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.

Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.

He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars). 

Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.

“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside. 

Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”

“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”

Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”

“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.

Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.” 

Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”

The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..

Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.

What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.

“To: Adrien

From: Marinette”

Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking. 

Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person. 

That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?

A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.

“Dear Adrien, 

Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!

With all my love, Marinette”

Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.

“Hey, Felix!” 

Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.

“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.

“He just wants to talk.”

Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her? 

Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?

My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?

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[petrichoravellichor]

Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

********************

Chapter 1 (of 5) (Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

“Crowley! Wake up, you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Crowley opens his eyes to Dean shaking him hard by the shoulders. Which is strange: the last thing Crowley remembers, he was dying, alone and forgotten in a parallel universe.

He isn’t there anymore. Instead, Dean is kneeling over him in a dome of golden light beyond which everything is dark, and for a brief, absurd moment he’ll chastise himself for later, Crowley thinks he’s somehow ended up in Heaven.

Then he glances past Dean and sees Sam with an exhausted-looking Castiel slumped against him; next to them is a younger man Crowley doesn’t recognize, but his eyes are molten gold, the same color as the dome surrounding them all. The amount of raw power emanating from the golden-eyed man makes every one of Crowley’s hairs stand on end, and not in a good way.

No, definitely not his idea of Heaven.

Crowley snaps his gaze back to Dean. “What—” he begins, but Dean cuts him off, hauling him to his feet.

“No time for questions!” Dean yells, and it’s only then that Crowley registers the roar coming from beyond the dome: it’s as though they’re standing in the eye of a hurricane as all around them things blow apart. “Come on, we gotta go!”

And then they’re all running, the dome of light moving with them like a shield as wispy black wraiths crash and burn against its perimeter and somewhere unseen, a hideous voice howls in rage.

*****

Once they’re safely back in the Bunker war room, Dean takes hold of Castiel and, along with the golden-eyed man—whose irises have faded to a soft, concerned blue—ushers him off in the direction of the infirmary, promising gruffly as he goes that he and Crowley will talk later.

Patience, however, is a virtue, and Crowley isn’t feeling particularly virtuous—especially not after seeing how tenderly Dean and Castiel looked at each other as Dean wrapped an arm around the angel’s waist and led him from the room. The sight had left a bitter taste in Crowley’s mouth, one he does his best to ignore. There will be time for that later; right now, he needs answers, and he’s not waiting on Dean in order to get them.

He crosses his arms and fixes Sam with an expectant glare. “All right, Moose,” he says, "out with it: what in God’s name is going on?”

Sam snorts, looking tired. “Um, yeah, about that...” He gestures towards the map table, then heads over to the liquor cabinet. “You...might wanna sit down.”

Crowley arches a brow, but he does as Sam suggests. Sam joins him a moment later and, after pouring them each a drink, spends the better part of the next hour telling Crowley all that’s transpired in the three years—three years—Crowley’s been dead.

Which is, it turns out, rather a lot.

Lucifer’s spawn survived his birth and is none other than the golden-eyed man Crowley saw when he woke up; his name is Jack, and for all intents and purposes, he considers Castiel to be his father.

An alternate version of Michael got a hold of Dean for a while, until Jack killed Michael at the cost of his soul, then, in a soulless rage, killed Mary.

God killed Jack. All Hell broke loose. Rowena, who’d apparently survived Lucifer’s last attempt to kill her, died to fix it and was now Queen of Hell.

Billie brought Jack back to kill God. Dean tried to kill Billie, so Billie tried to kill him. Castiel managed to take Billie out by admitting his love for Dean, at which point the Empty took Castiel—

Of course, thinks Crowley, the bitter taste in his mouth returning with a vengeance. Of. Bloody. Course...

The brothers had stormed the Empty not for him, but for Castiel. Good, noble, righteous Castiel, the wayward Angel of Thursday who’s been hopelessly in love with Dean for longer than Crowley has known him...and whom, it seems, Dean has finally admitted to loving back. Sam and Dean had saved Castiel because they loved him, because Dean loved him, but Crowley...They’d probably only rescued him because they’d figured they owed him for saving their denim-clad arses that day at the lake.

Now, as Crowley half-listens to Sam talk about defeating God, he glowers down at the map table and wishes they hadn’t bothered bringing him back at all, because it’s one thing to die unloved; it’s another to have to live that way. Crowley’s done both, and he knows which he prefers. At least in the Empty, he’d been at peace.

“Crowley? Hey, you okay?”

He looks up to see Sam regarding him from under a furrowed brow. Bollocks...

“Naturally,” Crowley says, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smile. “That’s quite a tale, Moose. It sounds like you and Squirrel have outdone yourselves these past few years, even managed to pull one over on God; bravo. I’m sure Lucifer’s spawn will make a spectacular replacement: he is, after all, three.”

Sam’s eyes harden. “Jack’s nothing like Lucifer; he’s good, and he’s got us to help him, and Amara—”

“Oh, Amara! Now there’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one: God’s evil sister and her Satanic great-nephew with billions of raw souls at their disposal. How could that possibly go wrong?” Crowley scoffs, shaking his head. “Honestly, there’s just no learning with you lot, is there? You just keep humming the same damn tune, then acting surprised when the notes turn sour, and it never even occurs to you to pick. A new. Bloody. Song.”

The frown on Sam’s face intensifies. “This is different. Jack, Amara, they’re on our side, and now that Rowena’s in charge of Hell—”

Crowley snorts. “Right. Care to wager on how long that lasts?” Then, at the look of sudden wariness on Sam’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Moose; that wasn’t me plotting a coup. I have no plans to try and take back the crown.”

“You don’t?”

“Why on earth would I?” Crowley takes a sip of brandy, grimacing slightly at the flavor—for all the changes the past few years have wrought, the Winchesters’ abominable taste in liquor remains tragically consistent. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I hated Hell as much as the blasted place hated me. If Mother thinks she can do better, she can have it.”

They sit without speaking for a moment; then Sam clears his throat. “You know,” he says quietly, “Rowena regrets how things ended between the two of you.”

Crowley stiffens, a stab of anger piercing his gut. “No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Sam insists, and how anyone can look so stupidly earnest is beyond Crowley’s ability to comprehend. “She told us so.”

Crowley scoffs. “And you believed her?” he demands, left hand closing into a fist at his side. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the smart one.”

Sam sighs. “Crowley...Look, I’m not saying Rowena’s perfect—”

“She’s quite literally the Queen of Hell, Moose.” Crowley manages to keep his voice level, but his fingernails are digging into his palm. “I’d say that’s about as far from perfect as anyone can get.”

“—but I think you two should talk.”

Crowley’s hand starts to bleed.

“I mean it,” continues Sam, when Crowley says nothing. “When I was a kid, my dad...he wasn’t there the way he should’ve been, and we fought a lot, and there were times I felt like I hated him, but when he died...”

A multitude of emotions flicker across Sam’s face in rapid succession, too fast for Crowley to name them all, but the final one, the one Sam looks back at him with, is regret. “When he died,” Sam continues, “I didn’t care about any of that. And maybe I should have. I know I should have. Believe me, I tried. But I just...kept coming back to the fact that what I was feeling, the good and the bad, I’d never get to actually say it to him, and if he was somehow sorry for the bad, that was something I’d never get to hear.”

Crowley’s anger flares white hot; his hidden palm is slick with blood. “If you have a point,” he growls, “I’d encourage you to come out with it.”

“My point,” says Sam, curtly, “is that you actually have a chance at some closure, and I think you should take it. For your own sake.”

Crowley clenches his jaw, looks away. “For my own sake,” he echoes, softly. As if his and Sam’s pain is the same. As if Rowena is capable of causing anything but. “Tell me, Moose: since when do you or your imbecile of a brother actually give a damn about my own sake?”

He raises his gaze to stare coldly at Sam who, for the first time since they sat down, seems at a genuine loss for words. Crowley snaps his glass down on the table and stands. “Thought as much.”

He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and turns to go—where, exactly, he has no idea—only to nearly crash headlong into Dean, and suddenly, Crowley’s anger turns to outright fury, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had gone up against Hell and his mother and even his own better judgment for Dean more times than he could count.

It didn’t matter that the two of them had shared a bed when Dean was a demon, doing extraordinary things to triplets that Crowley would have kicked out in a heartbeat if he’d thought he could get away with it.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had sacrificed his life to save Dean and Sam and the whole bloody world.

None of it mattered, because for all the times Crowley had chosen Dean, Dean had never once chosen him. Then again, Crowley thinks, maybe it’s his own fault for expecting any different, his due comeuppance for stupidly believing he deserved to be loved. It doesn’t matter; he knows better now.

“Hello, Dean,” he snarls. “Come to look in on me now that you’ve seen to your angel? Well you needn’t have bothered; I was just leaving.”

Dean frowns, crossing his arms. “The hell do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I mean get out of my way.”

“No.”

“And why not?” Crowley demands, voice rising. “Am I your prisoner? I’ve already told your oaf of a brother that I’ve no interest in causing any sort of trouble in Hell, so if that’s what this is about, then you can just—”

“Damn it, Crowley,” snaps Dean, “no, that’s not what this is about; it’s about where are you even gonna go. You got a place somewhere we don’t know about?”

“I’ll find one.”

“Or,” Dean counters, “you could cut the crap and just stay here.”

That catches Crowley off guard, but only for a moment; he gives Dean a hard look, determined not to let the surprise show on his face. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because you know it’s the smart thing to do,” says Dean, face impassive, “and last I checked, you were an asshole, not an idiot.”

And it’s not that Crowley doesn't know full well that running off half-cocked into a world whose dynamics have fundamentally changed is naive at best and suicidal at worst—that isn’t what makes him nearly scream in rage, because he knows it’s patently true. No, the infuriating thing, the truly mortifying thing, is that Dean knows him well enough to know that he knows it, and that if Crowley does leave, he’s only going to prove Dean right.

The thought is more than Crowley can bear; still, if he doesn’t get out of this room right now, he’s going to start shouting—at Dean, at himself, at everything. There are other, less crowded places in this godforsaken Bunker, and it’s past time he went and found one. He’s not going to give Dean the satisfaction of watching him break.

Crowley pulls his fury tight and close, stepping forward into Dean’s space and glaring up at him with every bit of defiance he can muster. “Funny,” he sneers, “because last I checked, you were both.”

And he vanishes before Dean can respond.

*****

Crowley finds an unoccupied room at the far end of the hall and decides to claim it as his own for the time being. He bolts the door and turns to collapse onto the bed...only to freeze dead in his tracks.

His mother is standing in the corner. As Crowley gapes, Rowena takes a step forward, face pale and incredulous. “Fergus?” she whispers. “Gods, is it really you?”

Her voice snaps Crowley out of his shock, and he narrows his eyes. “Mother,” he growls, the word like poison in his mouth. “What do you want?”

“Sam told me they were going to try and get you back,” Rowena says softly, eyes roving over Crowley’s face as though seeing him for the first time, “and I wanted...I needed to see if they’d done it, if you were all right.”

Crowley glares, making a mental note to have a word with Sam about this particular indiscretion. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Rowena recoils, and if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear his words actually hurt her. “You’re angry,” she says. “You’re angry, and you’ve every right to be, but if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” Crowley snaps. He clenches both hands into fists, ignoring the burn in his left palm. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I’d want to hear? You hate me, remember?”

“I love you—”

Crowley barks out a laugh. “Really? Have you forgotten the last time we saw each other? You left on a bus after you sent my son to his death, all because you wanted to watch me ‘suffer the loss of a child’, of my child!” He stumbles towards her, half-blind with rage. “Tell me, Mother: did losing me bring you any suffering, or were you just sad you weren’t there to collect three pigs in exchange?”

Rowena looks as though she’s been slapped. “Of course I suffered! Do you have any idea what I went through trying to get you back? I faced Death herself; I begged her to return you to me, but she wouldn’t do it! Ask Sam, ask Dean!”

“They’ve already told me,” Crowley grinds out. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Rowena is crying now, tears rolling freely down her face. “Of course it matters! I did it because I missed you, because I love you!”

“You’ve never loved me a day in your life.”

“That isn’t true! I did love you; I do!” Rowena takes another step forward and reaches out a hand. “If you could just find it in your heart to forgive me—”

“Forgive you?” Crowley snarls, and it’s all he can do not to spit in her face. “You don’t get to ask for my forgiveness, not after any one thing you’ve put me through, not after everything! What was it you said to me that day at the bus station, your parting words? ‘Who better than me to crush your shriveled heart’? At least I had a heart, once; you never did.”

“Fergus—”

And Crowley explodes. “GET OUT!” he screams, seizing the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it at his mother with all his might...only to watch as it flies right through her and crashes into the wall.

And then Rowena’s gone, just like she always is, and Crowley’s alone, just like he always is. He stands in the middle of the room and stares hollowly into empty space. “Astral projection,” he says, quietly; it always had been one of his mother’s favorite tricks. “Of course.”

He spends the rest of the night warding the room as many ways as he knows how, determined not to let his mother or anyone else get the drop on him again.

[kazoo5480]

Summary: Emma Nolan and Killian Jones had been best friends since they were kids. What happens when they begin to grow up, their friendship falling apart, but Killian is still in love with Emma?

Her mom startled her out of her thoughts. “You alright? How was school? She said and saw Killian walking down the walkway and crossing the street. “Was that Killian?” she asked, and Emma nodded. “Emma you have to say something, answer any question I just asked,” she said to her daughter.

“We have some classes, we talked, he asked to walk me home, I let him. He apologized, he didn’t explain it all, but he apologized. I yelled at him, told him he hurt me, and that was it. He asked me for my cell outside, and I said not yet. I am not ready for that” she said.

“Did that cover it all? Oh and I had a good day, no homework, I like my classes, and two upperclassmen hit on me and Liam walked me to class so that they would leave me alone” she said and her mom smiled.

“Ok. Dinner will be in an hour” she said and Emma headed up to her room.  Mary Margaret texted Alice, “Killian walked Emma home. Fingers crossed,” she said.

“What! Oh my god, is it happening?” Alice texted back. “Wait BRB, he is coming inside”

“Hey honey, how was your day?” his mom asked.

“Good. Fine” he replied. Alice stepped in front of him, “anything happen?” she asked.

He shook his head, “nope. But I apologized to Emma” and his mom squealed.  He smirked at his mom, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves, she let me apologize, and I walked her home. I’ve just got to follow her lead is what Liam said” he told her.

Alice nodded, “Dinner in an hour,” she said, and Killian headed to his room and laid on his bed.

Alice shot a text to Mary Margaret, "let's be patient. Homecoming is coming, I will ask Nemo to nudge him" she said, and her friend responded with a smiley.

Killian laid on his bed thinking, how was he supposed to be her friend, and how would he be able to fight against those feelings he had, and be in her life as only a friend. Could he ask her to homecoming, should he? The dance wasn't far off, but he thought it might be the perfect opportunity for him.

He heard his mom call him down for dinner not realizing that much time had passed, and Liam thankfully took over the conversation, and Killian didn't even hear his brother ask him if he was signing up for football.

"Killian, you in there?" Liam teased as he searched his brother's face.

Killian nodded, "yeah, um I will sign up tomorrow. Oh Dad I need new cleats." Nemo nodded at Alice and smiled at her.

"Heard you walked Em home from school," his dad said, and Killian blushed slightly and nodded. Nemo eyed Alice, and she got up heading toward the basement.

"And, how'd it go?" His dad pushed. Liam watched on quietly.

Killian shrugged, "Is it always this complicated?" He asked, and Nemo guffawed, nodding.

"Fraid so my boy. But you apologized, that's good. Keep at it, she will crack eventually.”

"Maybe you should ask her to homecoming," Liam said.

Killian raised his eyes to his brother, "Are you asking Elsa?" He asked, smirking.

"Probably, she is a Junior, but yeah I think I will," he said.

Nemo rapped his knuckles on the table. "Well, that's settled Liam takes Elsa, you'll take Emma," he said and stood taking his plate to the sink.  Killian gulped, his anxiety clawing at his stomach.

"Don't overthink it, Killy, just ask her," Liam said quietly.

Killian nodded, "Maybe next weekend. Ariel's having a pizza party at her place" he trailed off and Liam nodded.

"Parents will be there I assume?" His dad said, and Killian nodded, not actually knowing for sure they wouldn't be.  Nemo nodded at his kids. "Dish duty, I'm going to help mom with laundry" and headed toward the basement.

Killian finished loading the dishwasher and turned to Liam. "I have a problem," he said.

"Oh? And what is that?" Liam asked, leaning against the counter as he dried a glass.

"I think I love her," he said, and Liam chuckled.

"Killy you have loved Emma since you were in diapers. It's not a secret, only to her because you never told her. You're an idiot" he said, smirking at him.

"I don't want to tell her, not now like this. I want to just be in her life. I've never really dated" he said.

Liam nodded, "what about Milah? That girl last summer. I caught you two sucking each other's faces off a few times" he teased.

Killian felt his cheeks burst into flames. "It wasn't serious, and it never went that far man," he said.

Liam nodded. "Well, go slow. Get her off the market for homecoming and work from there" he said.

Killian nodded, "Thanks," he said and Liam clapped his shoulder heading up to his room.

He laid on his bed and opened up Instagram, he looked at her page, private. Shit. He went to Ruby's, which he followed and there were tons of photos of Emma on it. He scrolled through looking at her, saving favorites to his folder.

He bit his lip and sent her a DM. "Since I don't have your cell, at least let me be your friend on Instagram" he typed out and sent it. He ran his hands through his hair as he waited for her response.

A little bubble popped up, "Ok" and he got the friend request.

Killian sat up quickly, hitting accept, and his eyes nearly exploded. He had over a whole year of Emma's life in pictures to go through, things he missed. Holidays, birthdays, summer, he almost choked when he saw a photo of Emma being kissed on the cheek by their friend Jeff, a few others of them holding hands. He didn't like that, but he had to find a way to ask. Was Emma seeing someone, or had she been? Fuck. He was not prepared for that.

"Don't stalk my photos Jones 😏" came the message.

He shot back an eye-rolling one, " 🙄 a year is a long time. I'm allowed to look, you friended me" he sent it.

"If I wake up to a years’ worth of likes, I am going to think you’re an actual stalker" she was teasing him he realized.

He kept scrolling, buried in the photos was a single photo of himself, and her. Her 10th birthday. "How times have changed" was the caption, and his stomach dropped.

She posted that last year on her birthday, and a series of photos followed it in the post.

The first one was of them, her tenth birthday followed up by a ton of birthdays after that one, and the last photo was a picture of Emma sitting with a cupcake in front of her, she was making a wish when the photo was taken. Was that a coincidence he thought, he started the series of photos, and the last one a solo shot of her making a wish? It had to be.  

Fuck, he said and liked the photos. He screenshotted it and sent it to her. "Just workin my way back to you babe" he sent it, their inside joke from long ago when Emma's mom and Dad taught them how to dance.  

She didn't respond.

He sighed, plugged his phone in, and fell asleep looking at every photo she had ever posted. Moments he missed out on, and fuck he was an idiot.

The next morning he beat Liam to the shower and ate quickly, going out to wait for Will on the sidewalk, and Liam offered him a ride when Graham showed up.

"Nah, we can walk," he said and Liam smiled, and nodded.

Emma came out of her house, in a dress so short his heart might have stopped. It was buttercup yellow, her favorite color. He watched her as she tossed a cardigan over her shoulder as she walked, her curls blowing in the breeze, and stopped at the end of her walkway, likely waiting for Ruby. She smiled at whatever she was looking at on her phone, and he walked across to her.

"Morning," he said, scratching behind his ear.

"Hey," she said quietly, and just watched him curiously. Her phone buzzed, and she laughed again.

"What's so funny?" He asked her, desperately wanting to see what made her laugh like that.

Emma bit her lip and looked at him, his blue eyes were stupidly blue, and she caved. She showed him her phone, a photo of Ruby laying in a heap of clothes "I have nothing to wear!"

Killian chuckled and she shook her head. "I have to get going, or I'll be late," she said and he nodded.

"Are you waiting on Will?" She asked and he looked around, no sight of him.

"Let's start walking, I will text him and he can catch up," he said and she nodded, pulling both straps of her backpack tighter.

Killian knew this was awkward enough but he wanted to ask her. "Swan, I know we are just starting again, not over, but fresh, and I wanted to ask you about homecoming. To go with me to homecoming, that is" he said nervously, his tongue running over his lower lip as he watched her reaction.

Emma's heart did something stupid in her chest, and she bit her lip nervously, her eyes widening in surprise. That was not what she was expecting him to say at all. "Wow, um, can I say maybe?" She asked him, giving him a small smile.  

Killian looked at her curiously, a half-smirk teasing the edge of his lips. "Why maybe, it's a yes or no question, Swan."

Emma shrugged, "I am saying maybe because we are just getting in some kind of even footing here, but I say maybe with no intention of saying yes if anyone else asks. Is that ok? While we figure this out, and if it doesn't stick, can we just go with the group?" She paused, gauging his response.

She was rewarded with a wide grin on his face as he chuckled. "That's a yes," he said, smiling at her. "I am confident that it's a yes," he said and she laughed easily, rolling her eyes.

"Counting your chickens Jones," she said, smiling at him and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She watched him tracking her movements, she may have chosen this dress solely because she knew he would like it, and her heart was still doing stupid things in her chest over his dumb blue eyes. But for some reason, this whole thing felt like a house of cards, one misstep and it would tumble down.

"I can hope, yeah," he said watching her, the way her nose scrunched up, and he wished so badly that they could speed ahead and just be on that even ground already. Baby steps he repeated like a mantra, but her pink lips looked soft, and he just wanted to suck on the bottom one she had been biting for the last few minutes. Say, something idiot , he chastised himself shaking himself out of the thought of her lips, and her soft hair and that short fucking dress that fell halfway down her thighs.

"I'm signing up for football, are you going to join anything?" He asked her as they walked along, and led her across the crosswalk on Main street.

"I think cross country, again. Maybe tennis" she said, tucking her hair behind her ear, and he nodded.

“Is Ruby doing Cross Cuuntry too?” he asked, trying to avoid a lull in their conversation.

“Maybe, she isn't sure. I think she wants to do Soccer” she said, and he laughed picturing Ruby playing a physical sport. Emma laughed at him, knowing exactly what he was laughing at in his head.  “Mulan plays, I think Ruby could actually be good at it. Get some of her aggression out, and she is really fast” Emma said defensively.

“Ruby is probably checking out the girls on the team,” he said with a smirk and Emma punched his shoulder lightly.

“Bite your tongue, she and Mulan are really happy, I am happy for them,” she said and he nodded.

“As am I, of course, I want Ruby to be happy Swan,” he said. “So what would make you happy?” he asked, almost afraid to hear her response.

Emma smiled, “I am happy. Why? Do you think I am unhappy Kill? Because while we are getting a fresh start and all that, I don't have anything to lie to you about. I am happy, I want my license, I want a job, but my mom probably won't let me since it would interfere too much with school or sports, but I am not unhappy.”

He nodded. “Well, at least you know you have a line of guys wishing you were theirs,” he said, nudging her shoulder with his, and internally he cringed at himself. Emma huffed out a laugh, and just said it simply “I am not looking” she said. Killian felt his stomach clench but kept the conversation moving.

"Those are in the same seasons you know. I'd be at football while you're doing cross country. Baseball while you're at tennis…" he said and she looked over at him confused, her green eyes sparkling at him.  

"Is there a point to that observation Jones?" She asked, side-eyeing him, making her feet continue moving forward.

She should not be lingering on his comment about guys wishing she was theirs, she had an inkling that he was speaking for himself, but as usual not bold enough to say it yet. She was ok with him not voicing it if she was right because she knew there would be no going back if he wanted to date her. She already knew it, and it scared her.

He nodded, "we would be busy at the same time, free at the same times," he said like it should have been obvious.

"Ok, I'm missing the point. Why does it matter if we have practice at the same time, or are free at the same times?" she asked him, glancing over and caught him scratching behind his ear.

Killian shrugged, "I could come to watch you, or you could come to watch me," he said and Emma gave him a surprised look.  

Emma laughed, "alright. So you're asking me if I'll come to watch your games?" She said dryly.

Killian nodded, "Yeah, yes. That is what I am saying, or asking," he said, feeling his blush creep up his neck. "If you want to, ya know. You don't have to" he added quickly, too quickly.

Emma stopped and turned to him. "Say it," she said, crossing her arms, and waiting for him.

Killian gulped. Be honest ringing in his ears. "I looked at your Instagram. I don't want to miss any more moments Swan. So yes, I want to watch your races, or matches and have you come to mine. Friends do that for each other" he said, just leaving out that he desperately wanted her to be his girlfriend and kiss him before games and every moment in between.

Emma smiled, "Okay. Yeah. Ok," she said and started walking.

"Does that mean I get your number?" He asked, looking hopeful.

Emma scoffed, “Maybe. I'm not actively hiding it from you, but giving you access to my private life has to happen organically on some level, I can't just give you an all-access pass to me. Baby steps" she said softly and looked at him. “Besides, when did you get so impatient?” she teased.

He shrugged. "I just thought we could text. I'll take it, whatever you want Em, however slow, I am in, all in. I know last year that I put that distance there, not having classes together didn't help, but I did it. I am sorry. But let me make up for it, or try to" he said quickly and squeezed her hand.

Emma nodded and pulled her hand away, they couldn't just pick up where they left off, could they? No. She had to make him work for it a little bit.

"Why homecoming?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't want to take anyone else, even if we just go as friends," he said honestly.

Emma felt her heart and stomach doing ridiculously stupid things at his honesty and she just smiled. "Maybe," she said, and he grinned at that.

"Still taking it as a yes. I'll wear you down, just you wait Swan" he said and smirked, his blue eyes sparkling at her.

"Hey! Jesus you two walk fast" Will huffed running towards them. "I've been like a block behind the whole time," he said and eyed them. "Where's Lucas?" He asked.

"Clothing disaster. Granny was driving her" Emma said, and Will shook his head.

"You girls, god. Just put a dress on and you're dressed. Milah was the worst at that, Belle too. They took forever" he said looking at Killian who paled a little.

"Who is Milah? and Belle French you mean?" She asked Will.

Will nodded and Killian desperately wanted him to keep his fucking mouth shut.

“Yeah, Belle and I dated a bit last year, still talk a lot, but she is busy, so we are still friends. Milah was Killian’s girlfriend" Will said looking at his phone, and Killian saw Emma's jaw clench tightly out of the corner of his eye.

"She wasn’t my girlfriend. We just hung out for a little while" he said to Will, ignoring the hurt look on Emma's face. He saw the photos with Jeff, now was the opportunity to ask.

"How about you Em, are you seeing anyone? He asked.

Emma shrugged, not sure of what to say. She had no right or claim to Killian, she wished he had told her himself in time and privately, but it was what it was.

"Sure there were guys, a few this summer, but nothing serious," she said and was thrilled at the tick in Killian’s jaw. She shouldn't be thrilled by his possessive nature, but she was. Oh, she was going to make him work for it alright, if he was going to actually pursue her he was going to earn it. She thought this over to herself as they continued walking on the tree-lined street nearing the school.

As they entered the building Emma waved bye to them, heading toward her locker.

"What was that?" Will asked him.

Killian shrugged, "progress," he said simply.

"Show her your notebook," Will said, slapping his back and running the opposite way.

Killian groaned, he knew Will had looked at it, asshole. Killian dropped by his locker and took that notebook out, sticking it on the top shelf at the back of his locker.

He never wanted anyone else to see it. His collection of sketches and drawings, comics he drew, but mainly the ones featuring a female superhero who was very much Emma Nolan. Sketches of her sitting in her window reading, her smile, sketches of her in general. He would die of embarrassment if she ever saw it, it was bad enough Will had looked.

Emma dropped into her seat and Ruby eyed her. "That's what you chose after that whole thing" Emma laughed and Ruby tipped her black hat and nodded. Emma rolled her eyes and pulled out her English book, and the syllabus. They spent the hour discussing the upcoming creative writing project.

The day went by too quickly, and Emma dragged on her PE uniform heading toward the sign-up sheet and put her name down for the cross country team. Heading out with Anna, they picked the same spot and began stretching.

Killian came out still sliding his tee over his head as he talked with Kris, and Emma caught a glimpse of his chest, his sculpted abs, and she practically dragged her eyes to the floor trying to push the thought of a shirtless Killian Jones out of her brain, no she was not thinking about the trail of dark hair that ran below his waistband. She swallowed thickly trying to refocus on what Anna was saying as they got closer to them.

Killian’s eyes landed on Emma as she leaned forward stretching her legs, and her shorts rode up as she twisted and bent to stretch, he groaned internally watching her chest move, and her boobs jiggled as she laughed with Anna. She was fucking perfect, he needed to keep his dick in check because it certainly wasn’t getting the memo that random boners were not ok in high school. He adjusted the waistband of his gym shorts where he had tucked himself up to avoid this exact situation.

He sat beside her and began his own stretches and she smiled at him as she continued talking to Anna. Mr. French blew his whistle and Emma hopped up heading outside, the three of them behind her.

"Did you sign up?" Killian asked her, and she nodded. "Me too," he said and she smiled.

"That's cool. Liam will be thrilled" and Killian nodded. "I'll only make JV but it's ok," he said.

"I think it's great," she said honestly and he looked at her like she had something on her face. "What?"

Killian shook his head. "It will be nice to have you there, and knowing that you are there is all," he added with a smile.

Emma smiled. "Oh I’m sure the Killian Jones fan club will start making signs for you," she said with a hint of snark.

"As long as you have a sign, I don't care," he said, glancing at her, noticing the pale blush on her cheeks. She punched his shoulder, and he feigned hurt. "You wound me, Swan."

"Poor baby. Take off your shirt, I'm sure girls will literally chase you to aid you in your turmoil" she teased and he grinned.

"Nah, I'm good right here actually," he said. Emma gulped, not daring to look at him, so she did what she did best, and took off running ahead of him.  Killian was shocked for a moment but knew her reactions well. She didn't want him to know something, so he ran after her, catching up easily.

"I think it's fair to say that you'll make the team Swan," he said and Emma didn't look at him. "Ems come on, it was a joke.

She slowed down and glanced at him. Rather than confronting him about Milah, or whatever he was dropping hints at, she chose to ignore it all. They weren't dating, she wasn't his friend during Milah, she had no right to let it bug her. She had hooked up with Jefferson, and Graham, so she had no room to say a word. The Graham thing would piss Killian off, so she didn't even want to go there.

She wondered just how jealous Killian would be over Graham or Jeff. On the other hand, she didn't really want to play mind games with someone she hated to admit was still extremely important to her. Making him grovel for being a dick was one thing, but she wasn't throwing conquests in his face to get a reaction from him. She didn't need to, he offered them freely.

He was a teenage boy, a fifteen-year-old guy, it didn't take rocket science for her to put together that the familiar pull between them would only increase, and that she had caught him checking her out more often than not, but she wasn’t sure that she was ready. They were not there yet as friends to even talk about it.  She thought about him asking her to homecoming, wondering why on earth, on the second day of school he would ask her when it was a month away. Her heart had a sliver of hope that maybe he had deeper feelings for her, but he hadn’t said wanting anything more than her friendship.

She had to trust him again, trust that he was telling her the truth. If Killian wanted her friendship she would give it to him, but she wouldn’t even let her mind wander to the possibility if he wanted more than friendship.

“I can hear your brain working out a puzzle Swan,” Killian said as he jogged beside her.

“No, no just thinking about something. I am fine” she said, tossing him a smile and was grateful when the whistle blew.

They walked in toward the locker rooms and went their separate ways.  Emma touched up her makeup after her shower and headed out, not surprised at all to see Killian standing there, but was waylaid by an upperclassman.

“Hey, you’re Emma right?” The guy asked, his brown eyes practically undressing her, making her stomach turn sour.

“That’s me, do I know you?” she asked, keeping her face stoic, and he shook his head.

“Neil Gold. I noticed you yesterday, wanted to introduce myself. What do you say to a date on Saturday night?” he asked her.

“Sorry, I have plans. Thanks though, it was nice to meet you,” she said, and breezed past him toward her locker, forgetting Killian for the moment as she hurried to drop her stuff off.

Killian stayed against the locker, watching Neil stalk off, and he watched Emma handle him easily enough before she took off toward her locker, not even waiting for him.

He caught up with her, “what was that?” he asked her.

“Someone trying to get into my pants,” she said back in a serious tone.

Killian whistled, “nothing gets past you, does it,” he asked.

Emma glared, "I was a lifeguard the last two summers. He isn't the first guy trying to get into my pants, I am sure he has seen me in a bathing suit. But I can handle myself,” she said and slammed the locked shut, and looked at him. “Lunch?” she asked and he nodded walking beside her toward the cafeteria, Killian trying to hide the smirk on his face at her brute dismissal of someone most girls would easily chase after because of the money his family had.

School passed by quickly, and Killian realized that since he had first walked Emma home at the beginning of the week, apologizing and being a supportive, flirtatious friend, that every day he broke down one more of those pesky bricks in the wall Emma had built up around herself. Their camaraderie returning, even if his attraction to her increased tenfold.

He hated he was the root of that wall, but he was fucking trying, really trying. After Neil Gold asked her out, he made sure to be a constant presence around Emma, just as Liam had advised. Emma didn't even snap at him anymore about it, she just expected him there and continued with whatever conversation they had left when he left her last.  Their new version of normal was ok, and he got to walk her to school, and home and his mom had even invited them to dinner, and that was nice too. Henry was super into robots and Killian and he had bonded over that shared passion of engineering.

What did bother him was that Emma still had not answered his question about homecoming yet, and when he asked Liam if he should ask again, his brother gave him a big fat “ NO ” as a response. Told him to let her decide, and if she wanted to go in the group as friends, that he would do it, and bide his time.

This weekend was Ariel’s party, and she was excited to use the pool one last time before they drained it Sunday. That was the condition, they could hang there all weekend until Sunday morning when all the guys had to come to help drain it.  They all agreed because, duh. Free pool, girls in bikinis, and no parents? It was a no-brainer. Killian had been talking to Emma about it, she was staying the whole weekend over there as was Ruby and Mulan, but he hoped that it would maybe take an interesting turn.

By the time Friday at 3 rolled around, Killian’s knee was bouncing up and down in anticipation and he grabbed his bag, rushing out the door as soon as the bell rang. He was heading out the front doors to wait for Emma, and he ran right into his brother.

“Whoa little brother, where is the fire?” Liam teased.

“Nowhere, just going to wait for Emma and Ruby outside,” he said. “Are you coming home?” he asked and Liam nodded at him.

“Yeah, I am staying at Graham’s tomorrow though, so stay out of trouble this weekend,” he said and Killian nodded, heading past him.

Emma and Ruby came out with Ariel and Mulan a few minutes later, and Liam waved at all of them, ruffling Killian’s hair in front of them, as he and Graham headed toward Graham’s car.

If Killian wasn’t mistaken Graham had winked in Emma’s direction and she waved at him. What the fuck was that? He wanted to know what happened there, he needed to ask her if it was true. He couldn't say a word if it was, but he found it hard to believe Graham put a move on her, someone he had known forever, pot meet kettle , he grimaced.

“Going to war there?” Emma teased and poked his head. Killian shook his head, “you guys ready to go, or are you not going home?” he asked.

“No, I am heading home to get my stuff,” she said to him and turned to Ariel.

“I’ll be there around 7,” Emma said to Ariel, who nodded and waved as the other three walked away from them.

“Are you coming by her house this weekend?” Emma asked him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t dream of missing an opportunity to see you in a bathing suit” he said and she rolled her eyes.

“Em, come on, it was a joke, partially,” he said smirking. “ Yeah, of course, I am coming, you’re going so I am going,” he said and she looked at him curiously but didn’t say anything. “Say it,” he said, tugging her hand to stand still.

“What?” she asked looking distracted.

“Swan, come on. What’s up? Do you not want me to go?” he asked.

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just didn’t know who was going was all” she said.

“Is there someone else that you want to come to Ari’s?” he asked her and she shook her head.

“Nope,” she said quickly, and  Killian nodded, tugging her along again.

“Are you ever going to answer me about homecoming? Or should I still assume that you said yes, and pick out a white corsage to go with whatever you wear” he smirked at her, noticing the blush creep up her neck.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said and smiled at him.

“I still take that as a yes. So other than pizza, what else should I bring over there tomorrow?” he asked.

Emma shrugged, clothes, a swimsuit? I don’t know. Ask Eric, he will know” she said.

“Will mentioned some beers, but I wasn’t sure how cool Ariel would be, or you if I am being honest about it,” he said.

“It’s not like I haven’t been drunk before Jones, we are almost 16” and she laughed.

“Ah, so, you have been drunk. When?” he asked.

Emma got nervous, maybe she should tell him about Graham. No, don't do that now , she told herself. “I don't know, parties, I saw you at a few but I never said Hi,'' she said, staring straight ahead.

“You went to parties, saw me, and didn't even say Hi? Why?” he asked her. His mind was trying to wrap around the idea of Emma drunk at parties he was at, and never even said a word, he never even noticed her.

Emma shrugged, “We weren't friends,” she said. “I saw Liam and Graham at a few, so I am surprised he never told you” she added, and that cuts deep inside of him. His own brother never told him.

“We were always friends Emma, I was just too dumb to realize it,” he said squeezing the hand he was still holding. Emma shook herself out of the daze, tugging her hand back which he released.

“I didn't know that, and If you ever saw Ruby at one, the likelihood that I was there was always 100%,” she said, smirking at him, and he looked like she had hit him upside the head. He had seen Ruby at tons of parties, he could have fixed this ages ago he thought.

“I never knew. Were you avoiding me?” he asked.

She shrugged and glanced over at him. “I mean not intentionally most of the time, but if I saw you, then yeah I would pretty much stay at the other end of the party. I didn't want to run into you” she said and before she knew what was happening Killian was spinning her toward him so that his chest collided with hers.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, sliding them beneath the straps of her backpack, and whispered “I’m sorry Em. God, I am so sorry.”

“It's fine. We are past it, stop apologizing Kill, it's getting annoying” she said and released him and he let her waist go reluctantly.

“Maybe I should sneak over to Ariel’s tonight,” he said with a smirk.

Emma smiled, “why? Want to see a bunch of girls skinny dipping?” she teased.

Killian’s jaw dropped, “Is that what you guys do when we aren’t around?” he asked her, his heart beating frantically.

“Sometimes, it isn't like we haven't all skinny dipped at some point,” she said. “Do you think I was under a rock, having no fun because you weren't in my life?” she asked him laughing.

He had to stop images of a naked Emma running in his brain. “No, no. I just am trying to wrap my head around the idea that all of you guys swim naked together” and she slapped his chest. “I mean I would happily sneak over to sneak over if you wanted me to” he nudged her shoulder.

“We’ll see,” she said, smirking.

“Let me get your cell at least for tomorrow. I know you will have yours on you, and they won’t” he said.

Emma paused at the end of her driveway, she caved. “Give me your phone,” she said, and he handed it over. “You have to unlock it, Jones,” she said, handing it back.

“It’s your birthday,” he said, the blush creeping up his cheeks into his ears.

Emma’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head typing the six-digit code in. The background was a photo from her Instagram, she said nothing. Ignoring the hammering heart in her chest, she quickly added her cell to her contact card, which was a drawing of her. She clicked it, and it opened up and she giggled.

“Is that me? Like a superhero!” she exclaimed and Killian rolled his eyes, nodding.

“Shut up Swan,” he said and took his phone back from her. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, “I will talk to you later” he grumbled and she held his hand until his distance required their fingers to separate.

“See you later,” he said and she turned up the driveway heading into the house.

Mary Margaret was watching from her bedroom window. “He kissed her cheek, she gave him her cell number. OMG is this really happening? Should we be worried?” she texted Alice.

“BRB!!!!!!!!!!!!!” was her response so Mary Margaret headed downstairs, and greeted Emma.

“Hey honey, are you still sleeping at Ariel’s?” she asked and nodded. “Are we picking up Ruby too?” she asked and Emma shook her head.

“Nope. Ruby and Mulan went home with Ariel, I needed to pack a bag with my swim stuff. I forgot this morning, so I came to do that. Figured I would get my math homework out of the way, and go around 7, is that ok?” she asked and her mom nodded.

“How is Killian?'' she asked, following Emma up the steps towards her room.

“You're fishing,” Emma said, narrowing her eyes at her mom.

“Maybe…” She replied and her daughter smirked.

“Have you answered him about homecoming yet?” she asked and Emma shook her head.

“Not yet. I don't know. I am not punishing him or anything, I am just not sure yet if it's a group thing or a couples thing. I think by Sunday and hearing the girl's plans will let me know whether or not I say yes, or no” she explained as she laid out her books and collapsed on the bed.

Her mom nodded and shut the door behind her. Mary Margaret knew that Emma was going to say yes, it may have been why she had already begun sewing a dress for her to wear. Her phone buzzed.

“He said he is swimming at Ariel's tomorrow with Will and Eric, you think that's ok?” Alice asked.

“I trust them” she texted back and got a thumbs up from Alice.

Emma grabbed a few bikinis and her clothes, and her mom dropped her off, Ruby coming out to say Hi to her mom, and led Emma inside. Emma was surprised when she saw Eric, Killian, and Will seated around the dining room table.

“Swan, there you are” Killian hollered at her, and she waved, dropping her bag upstairs in the guest room.

“What are you guys playing? She asked as she sank into a chair. Will cracked a beer and set it in front of her, “thanks” she said smiling up at him, and he nodded sitting back down and Eric answered her question.

“Kings, Em,” he said, eyeing his cards. “You can be in the next round” and she nodded, sipping her beer, looking at Ruby’s hand beside her, and made sure to keep her face impassive. Ruby was going to win, there was no way anyone could beat that hand.

“You look nice” Killian blurted out across the table at her, and she rolled her eyes shooting him a smile.

“Aw. Do you know what we should play next? Seven minutes in heaven” Ariel said excitedly.

“I am gay, and so is Mulan, not fair. If I want to make out with my girlfriend I will just go upstairs, I don't want to make out with any of you, and I have already kissed Emma, so she doesn’t count, Ruby said laughing.

Killian’s eyes widened at that comment, and he wanted to hear that story but not here in front of everyone. Emma tossed her hair over her shoulder and laughed.

She looked great, her shorts short enough to show almost her entire leg, and her tank top left little to the imagination. She had no makeup on from what he could tell, and he swallowed thickly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the boner he was now sporting and ignoring into submission, his jeans definitely tightening in the crotch.

“I agree with Ruby,” Eric said and kissed Ariel. Emma wiggled in her seat, realizing that Will, Killian, and her were the only non-attached people.

The doorbell rang, and Emma volunteered to get it, checking through the peephole, and smiled opening it.

“Hey Belle, I didn't know you were coming,” Emma said smiling and Belle came in quickly and hugged her briefly.

“Yeah Will invited me last minute, and I figured why not, I already got my math homework done so here I am,” she said shyly.

“Me too, I finished it before I got here, and I didn’t know anyone else was coming, hence my attire. I thought it was a sleepover for just girls" she said, suddenly feeling eyes on her and she looked over to see Killian leaning against the doorway with two beers, handing each girl one.

They played a few more rounds of cards before Ariel demanded they move to the basement to watch a movie. Emma was on her third beer at that point, but she had felt Killian's eyes on her all night. She couldn't ignore it, it was like his eyes were burning into her skin when she wasn't looking at him, or talking to him.

"I think you look fantastic," he said in her ear as they trailed behind Will and Belle, walking towards the basement where everyone was descending.

Emma stopped and leaned against the kitchen counter, the beer buzzing her slightly and she stepped out the back door onto the patio, twilight overhead. Killian slipped out after her, leaving the door open, and she spun to look at him, grateful she hadn't taken her converse off.

Her pulse quickened, he was staring at her intensely as he stepped closer to her, waiting for her to tell him to move, he would never make a move without her consent. His shoes were touching hers, standing centimeters apart, and Emma’s blood was roaring in her ears as she took in the look on his face.

Her green eyes looked up at him expectantly, her blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, and he brushed them back gently. He heard Emma sigh, and her spearmint breath was close enough to ghost over his lips.

"Swan" he murmured, and nuzzled his nose against hers, waiting for her to push against his chest, and instead, she pulled the neck of his polo shirt closer. She rose onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissed him before she could have another thought.

Her soft lips were pillowed against his, and Killian cupped her jaw with his hands, his thumbs stroking her neck, driving her insane. He slid one hand further down to cup her ass, pulling her closer to him, and she gasped into his mouth, feeling the stiffness of him against her stomach.

Emma had a dozen emotions coursing through her, his lips moving urgently against hers, the taste of him flooding her senses, she could hardly breathe,  and she absolutely didn’t care.

God could she fucking kiss. His mind was blown, the fantasy not even coming close to the reality of Emma Nolan kissing him. Her lips were sliding over his, they were practically glued together at this point and he wanted nothing more than to stay here grounded at this moment forever.

She shivered in his arms, and he was nearly about to push her against the side of the house when they were interrupted.

"Guys, grab chips!" Ruby's voice rang out from the stairs, and Emma knew she was giving her a reprieve in case she needed one.

They broke apart, and Killian placed his forehead against hers, sliding his hands back to her hips, staring down into her eyes.

"Wow," he said softly, and Emma blushed, nodding silently.

"Chips Jones," she said, shaking herself out of the daze she was wrapped in, moving past him back into the house, grabbing two bags and he grabbed her elbow, swinging her around to face him.

"Em," he said softly, and she gave him a soft smile and shook her head, descending into the basement.

Killian ran his hands through his hair. Fuck. He just kissed Emma. What the fuck was happening.  He followed her, sitting beside her, and Ariel hit play once chips and beers were handed out, the Texas Chainsaw Massacre began to play.

Emma jumped a few times, Ruby screamed, and Killian held Emma's hand in the dark, where no one would see like they were ten years old all over again watching Ghostbusters.  

Emma spent the whole movie painfully aware of Killian’s proximity to her. She wanted to take a beat, process the kiss, and what this meant. It meant something, it had to of, he was holding her hand in the dark, not cuddling her or being showy. He was doing what he always did, giving her space, but letting her know he was right there.

Ariel led everyone upstairs, and since they were all walking they took the bag of cans to dump on their way somewhere in someone's garbage can.

They all said goodbyes and Killian hugged her, "I'll text you'' he whispered, and brushed her cheek lightly with his lips going unnoticed by everyone.

The girls helped Ariel tidy up and they all decided to throw on mud masks, Emma sent her mom a photo, and they sat on Ariel's floor talking about homecoming.

"So, Eric said Jones asked you, Emma," Ariel said and Emma laughed.

"He did," Emma said, shrugging.

"And?" Ruby asked, munching on a chip.

"Maybe. I said maybe, I wasn't sure if it was a group thing or a couples thing, I don't know" Emma said thankful for the green mask covering her cheeks.

"Your chest is blushing" Ruby cackled and Emma threw a pillow at her.

"Say yes!" They chorused at her and she shrugged.

Ruby winked at her and stood up. "I'm washing this off and going to bed," she said on her way to the bathroom.

Emma crashed in Ariel's sister's room, while Ruby and Mulan took the guest room. Emma laid there for a while before her phone buzzed and she rolled over grabbing it.

K: Hi

E: Hey

K: Are we going to talk about it?

Emma bit her lip.

E:  Not tonight

K: Does that mean I can kiss you again Swan?

E: Maybe

K: I am taking that as a yes, and also taking that as a yes to homecoming too 😛

E: I didn't say yes

K: I like kissing you

E: It's still not a yes Jones

K: I'm wearing you down, I can feel it. When I win your heart Em, and I will win it, I am going to expect a medal of honor, and more kissing 💋, he typed laughing to himself as he typed it.

E: 🙄

K: Is it still okay to come tomorrow, Swan?

E: Yeah. See you tomorrow

K: 😘

Emma made a snap decision, she pressed call on his contact.

His phone buzzed. Emma's name flashed across the screen and quickly swiped to accept.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked quietly.

"You are dumb" she retorted.

"Over you," he said with a grin on his face. "I'm tempted to sneak back into that house tonight," he said softly.

"You can't..." she protested weakly.

"That sounds like a challenge if I've ever heard one Em"

"It's not. Seriously Jones."

"Sorts sounds like it" he teased.

"I'll see you tomorrow, ok?" she said.

He took a breath and thought of Liam. "It meant something to me. Ok?" He said feeling vulnerable.

"I know," she said softly.

"Just don't shut me out. We will figure it out together. Ok?" He pleaded quietly. "We will be there around 11, so see you in eight hours"

"Counting down the minutes" she replied dryly, and he smiled.

"Night Em," he said softly.

"Night Kill," she said softly, and the call ended.

His phone buzzed, Ruby posted to Instagram. The girls had mud masks on and were making stupid faces. He liked the photo immediately.

"You all show your true faces at night" he commented.

"@KJones0125 You are no gentleman sir"

"@RubyRed7645 I speak nothing but the truth"

"@KJones0125 🖕"

"@RubyRed7645 Rude"

He smiled and rubbed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He wondered if she told them, he would guess not or Ruby would have been texting him. He finally shut his eyes and tried not to think of Emma rejecting him tomorrow.

@holdingoutforapiratehero  @hookedmom @xsajx @kymbersmith-90 @kmomof4 @katie-dub @ohmightydevviepuu @lassluna @pirateherokillian @teamhook​ @stahlop @elizabeethan @whimsicallyenchantedrose @resident-of-storybrooke @therooksshiningknight @jennjenn615 @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @killianswannn @stories-enchanted @eleveneitherway @girl-in-a-tiny-box @withheartfulloflove @kday426 @lyssapup27 @swanlovato @kaoslikesstuff @djlbg @kristi555 @laschatzi @xarandomdreamx @lkles08 @wyntereyez @bubblegum1425 @xhookswenchx @yasbio2015 @tiganasummertree @winterbaby89 @wefoundloveunderthelight @hollyethecurious @let-it-raines @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @dreamingdreamsalways @oncechicagolove @andiirivera @vvbooklady1256 @gingerchangeling @everything-person @klynn-stormz @qualitycoffeethings @vampcoffeegyrl23 @enchanted-swans  @ohmakemeahercules @donteattheappleshook @bluewildcatfanatic @the-darkdragonfly @demisexualemmaswan @lavenderbudd @grimmswan @spartanguard @flslp87 @ultraluckycatnd @sarahpaq08 @thisonesatellite @captainswan21 @zaharadessert @mariakov81 @snowbellewells @xouatxcs @kiwistreetswan @batana54 @nadine200179 @probalicious17 @courtorderedcake @julesep3026 @jackieorioncat @whatthehell102082 @xemmaloveskillianx @jarienn972 @sthonour @linda8084 @carpedzem @pirateprincesslena @daxx04 @winterbythesea @artistic-writer @scientificapricot @cocohook38 @wisfan3000 @chrisilybrooke @pcrcabcth @captainswan4life85 @molly958 @kingofmyheart14 @badwolfreturns @itsfridaysomewhere  @fallingforthecaptain @lovethelifeyoulive1106 @onceratheart18 @strangestarlighttree @omgmarvelous @justanother-unluckysoul @anothersworld @purplehawkcaptain @jennjenn615​ @sailtoafarawayland​ @superchocovian​ @hookedonkillianforlife87

[itsmeevie01]

A Moment in Time-Ch 7

MASTERPOST

Marinette was the first one to arrive at the bakery, much to her relief that evening.

After warning her parents that she had friends coming to join her, the teen hurried up the stairs to prepare for the evening. Mullo and Plagg flew off, and Marinette paused in the kitchen to pull together a snack tray, before following the Kwamii up the stairs to her room.

She made sure that while it was hidden, the box was now closer to her reach. Then, she pulled up a word document that had been idling in her computer for the past few months. The document labeled Ways Gabriel Agreste has Abused His Son.

Pulling up her email, Marinette opened her thread from the emails with Tim. Since she had the time, she may as well respond to his email.

 From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

 Mr. Drake Wayne,

I can’t believe that I included Hawkmoth in that email! I must have been more tired than I thought. Hawkmoth has been terrorizing Paris since I was 12 years old. In the last four years, the man has possessed everyone from a toddler crying over a candy bar to a man grieving his wife’s death. My city has faced real-life myths and legends, as well as children who just wanted a nightlight. Hawkmoth will target anyone who has a negative emotion. Your ice cream dropped? You are an ice cream monster. You fail a test? Suddenly you are giving everyone passing grades. The worst part is, everyone who dies will be brought back, but the person who is possessed won’t remember anything. Many people have moved out of Paris, and most of the remaining citizens have taken up meditation and smaller forms of magic to protect themselves. Although the news won't admit it, our population had dropped quite a bit. Inside the city itself, there are about 1.9 million people now. Many have moved to areas nearby that have proved outside of Hawkmoth’s range. As far as we can tell he only strikes in the city proper. Before you ask, yes, someone is fighting him. Lady Tyche, Apate, and their new member Princess Meli will free the person of the possession and restore the city. They wield magical objects. It's theorized that Hawkmoth also wields a magical object and that’s why they’re the best suited to combat his creations.

It interests me, that you mention bringing this to Batman’s attention, but not the Justice League? Do you, by chance not trust them? I have heard that many people in Paris have called them for help, nothing has come of it, obviously. In my opinion, people don’t actually believe something is happening unless they experience it themselves. For the most part, people who come into Paris will hear rumors of Lady Tyche in passing, but since Princess Meli is new they haven’t heard of our other hero. To even most Parisians, Apate is a legend. To those who know her, she is a vigilante who will not hesitate to end a situation or clean up what the Lady and Princess won’t. Most of the time, however, she is known for following Lady Tyche’s lead. I’ve heard theories that it's because she is more violent and has a darker power than the other two. Once, I heard that she wants to protect the City of Lights, and won't use her powers unless necessary because of it. Some people think that when she uses her powers she spreads bad luck to the people nearby. On the other hand, many think that Lady Tyche leaves lingering good luck.

Sorry for the info dump, there is a lot going on in Paris right now.

Thank you for keeping an eye on Nona and Jason. Jason, as I am sure you know, can be impulsive. Nona isn’t much better. When he was here, Jason mentioned that you tend to be busy most of the time. He was surprised that you had responded so quickly as well, actually. I wanted to add that I am honored!

Thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to pry too much, if Jason is willing to part with the information, I really would like to know about their tike together. Please do not force him though. I am sure there are other ways to know what is actually going on. I do have to ask, what do you mean by ‘good spar’? do you two spar together often? If so, I do hope Jason doesn’t hurt you too often. I know that he usually put his all into everything he does, and I know that he is quite the fighter when he wants to be.

The slander is the work of a jealous girl in my class. She is of no consequence in the long run. I was surprised to find out (through you!) that the Bruce W on my commission list was for your family. Actually, don’t tell the rest of your family, but it’s not just the suits. There are a few gowns in the mix as well. Your family butler, I believe his name is Alfred, is sending me a list of measurements in the next several days.

Jason and I have known each other for as long as I can remember. If you want, ask him how we met. He will have a more concise memory since he is five years older than me. The best I can say right now is that he was the person I relied on for many years before we got separated. Since then, I think we both have grown, but I can still see who he was when he was 12 underneath everything. As I said, Jason would be the one to ask for specifics. Maybe after you ask him about how he knows my Nona?

Have a good day,

Marinette Dupain Cheng

P.S. of course I put energy drinks in my coffee! Is there any other way? If you ever want one of my recipes, let me know! I have a whole collection at this point.

 After she had sent the email, Marinette glanced over her room again to make sure everything was ready for when her friends arrived.

As she was getting up to fidget with the pictures, Chloé burst through the trap door. Behind her, Aurore followed at a more sedated pace.

“Mari! Hi! What is this? And why is she here? I thought you two weren’t talking anymore, remember? This is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” Aurore raised an eyebrow at the other blonde before smiling at Marinette.

“your parents sent us up with some pastries. I think they were a little thrown off by Chloé and I arriving at the same time.” Here, the girl set the plate she had been holding that couldn’t be seen behind the more aggressive girl. “they mentioned about making sure to remind you that the past is past?” here, the two giggled as Chloé looked between them in confusion.

“Whatever!” she huffed, before flouncing over to Marinette’s chaise and settling herself there with a sniff. After the other two had stopped giggling, Marinette raised an eyebrow at Aurore in question. With a nod, the Ladybug holder turned to smile at Chloé.

“So, Chloé. We know that you and I are not exactly close, but there is something that Marinette and I wanted to bring you in on.” Here, she looked back at Marinette with a smile. Before she could continue, however, the heiress started to interrupt.

“if you two are-” Aurore’s phone started to ring, making the three pause as the girl turned to answer the call

“Mireille? Hey!” she turned and waved to Marinette, motioning her to continue with the conversation while she finished with her friend.

“No, Chloé. It’s more complicated.” Marinette leveled her friend with a look. “plus, if this was the same thing as two years ago, I would have told you earlier. You know that.” as Marinette soothed her friend, a small part of her brain reminded her that there was something that she hadn't told the girl. something that her friend would kill her for.

“Then what on earth is going on, Mari? You know it makes me nervous being out of the loop.” Marinette snorted pointedly at her friend.

“We weren’t trying to keep you out of the loop, C. it’s just…Aurore and I just realized what was going on. We wanted to make sure that we were making the right choice before going further. You have proven that we have.” Marinette paused, watching her friend. When the blonde still looked confused, the younger teen just smiled. “would Pollen like a bowl of honey?” Chloé bilked before laughing.

“Mari, dear. Who on earth is Pollen? Have you made a new friend I didn’t know about?” an indignant voice that Chloé was unfamiliar with responded.

“My Kitten hasn’t, but you have Buzz.” As Aurore finally got off the phone and turned back to the conversation, Chloé let out an ear-piercing shriek.

“OH MY GOD MARINETTE DUPAIN CHENG NO FUCKING WAY!” then, Marinette was falling backward under the force of her best friend tackling her in a hug.

 After Chloé had calmed down, the three girls spent the next four hours talking. The first 15 minutes had been about how the original two had handled living a double life for four years. After that, the girls turned their attention to the document that Marinette had pulled up.

The rest of the time was spent overanalyzing the spending Habits of the top four people on Marinette’s suspect list.

 When asked why she had the list and not Aurore, the duo explained that many times while Lady Tyche was out patrolling and being a beacon of good luck, Apate would be behind the scenes. Many a night, office buildings would register a break-in before the figure would turn into literal shadows. The security guards who would be sent to investigate would be faced with a missing pane of glass that had suspiciously black edges on the frame. Most of the time, when Apate was ready to leave, if anyone was around, they would lose their senses for the time that it took for her to leave. After, they would think that had simply blinked before getting on with their life.

Using this method, the protectors of Paris were able to cross many off their lists. In the few times, they had entered private residences, the break-in would happen when the family was away.

 Of course, Marinette’s hacking skills had come into use, as she had taught Aurore the basics a few years back. Unknowingly, the two had set their alter egos up for success.

The duo had spent more nights than they could remember curled up on a rooftop, laptops booted up. They would spend hours at a time sitting there with paper strewn around them as they raced to hack in and access as many schedules and bank statements as they could. Although it was highly illegal, the two had spent almost as much time working on the internet crossroads to narrow their such as they had fighting Akumas.

 Chloé’s awe at the work the two had put in showed. When they asked her to help them continue to narrow down the list she agreed. When she saw the first document sitting open on Marinette’s computer, the shock on her face lasted all of ten seconds before the heiress was helping her teammates dig into the private life of one Gabriel Agreste.

 When Marinette had said goodbye to her friends, Aurore left to patrol and Chloé went home with the hope that she could access more sensitive information from her father's unlocked computer. When the other two had raised concerns about it, the teen had waved them off. Apparently, the mayor was much laxer on the security of his work computer than he should be.

 After climbing up to her room, Marinette closed down all of the programs that she didn’t need to leave running overnight. As she closed out most of her browser, the teen hesitated, before she clicked into her email. Sitting there, waiting for her was an email that had been received in the middle of her session with her friends.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

Miss Marinette,

I have to say, you know quite a bit about these heroes that have been fighting in Paris. I started looking up the topics that you mentioned but couldn’t find anything. After several attempts, I used a VPN to make it seem like I was in Paris. That made the entire thing open up like a wrapped present. I must say I am surprised that it hasn’t made its way out of Paris yet. Well, I was surprised, until I was reading through some tourist guides. It seems that the new phrase is what happens in Paris stays in Paris. That, and very thorough censorship on public media. How have you made it this long in that city, without losing it completely?

I was able to flag down Signal, who is known as the Daytime Bat, and passed along what you had sent me. I included my own research as well, so don’t be surprised if they go to investigate further in the near future. Well, I guess you wouldn’t hear of it, but if they show up, it is defiantly because they are concerned.

I wouldn’t say that the JL is not trustworthy, but I trust Batman’s Gotham team more. Maybe it is the familiarity that comes from being rescued frequently from hostage situations. I trust them, and they know that I won't give them information just for the hell of it.it doesn’t help that the JL tends to make a massive mess when they come through town. I would rather they stay far away from me, thank you very much.

So, it turns out that both you and Jason are very cryptic. I don’t know how much you know of the time between when Jason was 13 and his 16th birthday, but he said that he was with a friend of your mother’s? He said that you would know her as Aunt Talia and that your mother was always the more levelheaded of the two. This was…confusing for many reasons, one of which is that your Aunt is my little brother’s bio mom. Anyway, Jason said he was with your Aunt when he met Gina, in ‘this little place in Canada.’ He mentioned an island and a bay that sounded a lot like the Bay of Fundy. If you have any idea why your grandmother would be out there, then we can puzzle out how they met. As for how they got separated, I am afraid that this time it had something to do with a chef? Something about him chasing the two of them out of town with a cleaver? Apparently, this chef is another relation of yours. Marinette, I must be honest, you have quite a few deadly relatives. you aren’t going to come through the screen and slice my head off, will you?

This afternoon, I got a call from the police station, by the way. Apparently, Jason and Gina had been busting drug gangs in their free time and there was some incriminating evidence. I am not quite sure how they got into it, but they have been issued a warning by the local Bats. You may be seeing this chaotic duo again in Europe sooner than either of us would like if this keeps up.

As to the sparing question. Jason, as I believe you are aware by now, likes to keep fit in a variety of ways. Bruce made sure all the children under his roof could fight and protect themselves. This means that while Jason may be the biggest in the family, and I am considered the smallest, I can still beat him in an even spar if I put some work into it. For the most part, I prefer not to use the same tactics that Jason uses, and since he and I tend to train at the same time, we see each other but don’t usually go head to head. I have to say it was quite a rush to beat him earlier today.

Alfred mentioned something about housing a guest who would be making sure that the family was presentable for the Gala. That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it? If you do come to Gotham, may I show you around? I know that having an experienced guide in any city makes things much easier.

On that note, I am going to make the assumption the Bruce didn’t know who he was commissioned, so I will warn you that he may ask that you get a background check done. Up until this point, he has only communicated with you through lawyers about the press fiasco. he probably won’t make that connection for a while yet.

Have a good evening,

Tim DW

P.S., of course, I would like the recipes! Any that you send would be greatly appreciated! My family thinks that I rely too much on coffee and not on sleep. Do you have that problem much? It has gotten to the point that I have a few shops that I go to that the rest don’t know I like. It’s the only way to get the sweet nectar of coffee! What is the worst thing you have done to procure caffeine? I hope your family helps you more than mine does. They say that if they didn’t monitor my caffeine intake, they would be enablers.

 Marinette giggled at Tim’s frustration with her brother. It looked like the two of them were going to keep it a secret a while longer. Although, when she did go for the Gala, and the fittings the week before, it would only be a matter of time before the Waynes figured out the two were related. After all, the features of Willis Todd are hard to hide.

Still smiling, Marinette made a note to tell the others that Batman had been notified.

Glancing at the time, Marinette reached blindly for the cold cup sitting nearby. The grey cup that was covered in pink sparkles read ‘I can’t talk right now. Leave a message after the squeak!’ The cup was one that Marinette had made after she started to wield Mullo, the mouse Kwamii, more.

Mullo and Plagg had been instrumental to her while she had been investigating the many businesses of Paris. Since then, the teen had kept the mouse around as an alternate form of defending herself. While the public had not been introduced to Little Mouse, the quiet vigilante had done quite a bit of work for the City.

As Marinette sipped on her current super coffee, (cold brew, two shots of espresso, one pump of vanilla syrup, and a mocha monster. affectionately named Minnie Mouse) she made a list of her tasks for the night. If she could send off the sketches of what the Waynes wanted for their gala pieces, then she could do the basic list of things she would need to get at the fabric store the next day. After making her list, she could start on her design for her own dress. Glancing back up to her computer, Marinette froze. She had to email Tim back at some point as well.

As she was standing to retrieve her camera and sketchbook, Marinette’s personal email dinged. Glancing over, she realized it was an email from Tim. Again. With a frown, the teen opened the message. The email was in no way close to the formal communications the two had been trading.

 From: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

To: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

MARINETTE

I AM SO SORRY. WHEN THE WHOLE PRESS THING HAPPENED, WE ALL TALKED ABOUT IT AS A FAMILY. JASON WASN’T THERE AND I JUST FOUND OUT WHY. HE AND BRUCE WERE YELLING AND I WASN’T EAVESDROPPING BUT I HAD GONE TO TALK TO B AND HE HAD BEEN YELLI GAT JASON ABOUT SEEING A SISTER.

JASON WAS YELLING AND TOLD B TO SHOVE OFF BECAUSE AND I QUOTE-

“MARINETTE WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANY FAMILY EMERGENCY AND IF VISITING HER WOULD GET HIM IN TROUBLE THAN HE WANTED NOTHING TO DO WITH THE FAMILY.”

YOU

ARE

JASON’S

SISTER

HOLY SHIT

-tim

 Marinette’s brain came to a screeching halt as she read the email once, twice, three times before letting out a string of curses. Dammit, Jason.

She collected her thoughts and pulled up an open template to respond to the other teen

 From: Mari_Beri2001@gmail.com

To: timdrakeeeee99@gmail.com

Tim. Please tell me you have taken a deep breath and have had time to reflect since you send the last email.

Yes, Jason is my older brother. Well, half-brother. My mother died when I was young, and since she had been having an affair with Willis Todd (a horrible man, by the way.) she had put his name down on my birth certificate. Catherine definitely never liked me, but she put up with my presence. Multiple times, Jason and I would run away or end up on the streets because of the fighting that would happen in that house. One day, I ran when Jason wasn’t around and was caught by CPS. Up and away I was sent to France whit the couple who had found me when I ran away from CPS. Jason thought I was dead until that scandal broke almost two months ago. That’s why he vanished. He came here to visit me. This was the first time I have seen him in 10 years. Neither of us was exactly thinking clearly.

It doesn’t surprise me that your father knows that Jason and I are siblings. However, it also wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t make it very far down that path. Jason thought I was dead for years. I kept tabs on him, but that doesn’t mean he knew about that until he got over here.

I am going to respond to your last email as well.

Yes, the current plan is for me to arrive in Gotham. About a week before the Christmas Gala. That way, I’ll have time to do any last-minute fixes. I would love to have you show me around your city if that offer is still open. I haven’t been to Gotham since I was 6 years old, so I don’t remember much of the place.

-Marinette

Ps, I’ll send those recipes soon. I don’t think you want a super coffee tonight. 😊

 After hitting send, Marinette sighed. With luck, she could have her list done by dawn. What was one more super coffee, after all?

HIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!

ok ok ok ok

i have been really excited to post this one, and actually almost posted last night! Self control? don’t know her! 

this one i think is really important because Tim and Mari aren’t super formal in their talking anymore. also...who can guess what went down with Aurore and Mari???

Tag List

@moonlitceleste @redscarlet95 @ultimatetornshipper @mochegato @liquid-luck-00 @maskedpainter @trippingovermyfeet @nathleigh @m0chick0furan @susiej1118 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @sassakitty @remy-289

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Bonus Chapter: Harley VS Bruce

AO3

Ch. 18 (main fic)

Master list

Harley Quinn was a lot of things. Psychologist, ex-villain, ex-girlfriend of one of the biggest assholes in Gotham. Girlfriend of the lovely Pamela Isley, and best friend of the amazing Selina Kyle. She was now also the proud aunt of the adorable sunshine that is Marinette Wayne. What she wasn’t, though, was someone who gave up easily. Which is why she originally texted Bruce Wayne once she woke up this morning. She texted him and then intended on getting ready to go out to breakfast with her three favorite girls. She did not intend for Bruce Wayne to come and knock on her apartment door. 

Harley glares at the man standing in front of her, not amused by his claims. So what if he says the kid is his “biological daughter” and that she has “no claim” on her. To hell with him, that adorable ray of sunshine was hers now. She was officially one of the girls. And she was not backing down easily. Her text was supposed to reassure him that Marinette would be safe with her and the other Sirens. Not make him rush down here to try to take her back before the girl had even had breakfast. This just wouldn’t do. 

“Harley, please. Marinette is my daughter and-”

“But you already have so many kids! And the kid really likes us.” Harley argues, pouting. Mr. “I dress like a bat for fun” was not about to take Mari away from them. 

“I understand that Harley, and she can still come to visit. But she’s not living with you.” Bruce says, putting his foot down. Who would’ve guessed one night with the Sirens would be enough for them to try and adopt his daughter out from underneath him. 

“Or, you could always come and visit her while we have full custody. Makes more sense to me!” Harley counters with a wide grin.

“I don’t even have custody of her, she’s just visiting Gotham for the summer.” Bruce says tiredly. Harley frowns. 

“Whatdya mean you don’t have custody? Who does? Her mom?” She asks. 

“Her adoptive parents in France.” Bruce says shortly. Harley gasps. 

“France? Well then forget this fight, I’ve got a flight to catch.” She says, whirling around to leave. Bruce stops her, gently grabbing her wrist. 

“She loves her parents, Harley. And they’re letting her see me and stay here in Gotham for the summer, something I never expected them to agree to. If you go in guns blazing, they’re never going to let either of us see her again.” He points out, letting go of her wrist once he guesses she won’t run. 

“But that’s not fair!” She whines, stomping her foot. The summer was so short! There wouldn’t be enough time to spend with the kid if B man was insisting on also spending time with her. That wouldn’t work. It just wouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry, Harley. But she has a life in France. We can’t be selfish.” Bruce says. Harley scoffs. 

“Fuck that. Maybe you can’t, but I sure as hell can.” Harley says, crossing her arms. Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Harley-”

“No! No more Harley this or Harley that. Marinette is staying with me and Ivy and Selina and that is final!” She says. 

“The hell it is! Listen, Harley, I’m trying to work with you here. Really, I am. But I went almost fifteen years without knowing about my daughter. I’m not about to give her up now just because you think she fits in well with the other Sirens!” Bruce argues, finally letting some anger seep through. Marinette was his daughter, damnit. He already had extremely limited time with her and while he would never stop Marinette from seeing the Sirens (as long as they weren’t doing anything too illegal), he wasn’t going to just let her live there. 

“Uh...what’s going on here?” Marinette asks, blinking sleepily as she looks between her dad and her newly adopted Aunt who appeared to be having a standoff right outside the apartment. With both her and Harley still in pajamas. Lovely.  

“Nothing pumpkin, go back inside.” Harley says, squeezing her shoulder. 

“No, Marinette, come on honey. We’re going home.” Bruce says. Marinette frowns. 

“Selina said we were gonna come back later. We’re supposed to go grab breakfast with Aunt Harley and Ivy first.” She says. He starts to say something, then stops. Staring at her pants before sighing. 

“Are the two of you really in Batman and Robin pajama pants?” He asks, exasperation filling his voice. 

“Yeah- Dad what’s wrong? If I really have to go home right now I will. I just thought Selina told you where we were. And when we’d be back.” Marinette says, confused as to how this whole situation started. 

“She did. And I was fine with it. I know how stressed you’ve been, sweetheart. But then Harley texted me-”

“We don’t have to talk about that.” Harley says, laughing nervously. Marinette narrows her eyes. 

“Aunt Harley, what’d you do?” She asks, sticking her hands on her hips to try to look more intimidating. 

“Sweets, I just wanted you to be able to stay here with me and Selina and your Aunt Ivy.” She says, smiling awkwardly. Marinette turns to her dad, quirking an eyebrow up. 

“She informed me, via text message, that you would not be returning to the manor. And that no amount of money could make her return you, that you were happy and fine and you made a great addition to her little family.” Bruce says. Marinette turns to Harley and launches herself at her, wrapping her arms around the woman. 

“Aunt Harley, I love you. And I’ll always be part of your family, but I have to go home at some point. I just met my brothers and dad recently, and I have years to make up for. Besides, I’m sure this isn’t the last time Maman and Papa will let me come to Gotham. I’m not just gonna forget you because I’m across town.” Marinette says, hugging Harley tightly. Harley sighs, but wraps her arms around the girl and returns the hug. 

“I know you won’t sugar, I’m just gonna miss you. You fit in so well here.” She says softly. Marinette sighs. 

“I’m not even leaving yet. We’re still gonna go get breakfast, right? And besides, you have my number now. And Selina already said we have to have a girl’s night every week for the rest of the summer, and I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna go against Selina.” Marinette reminds her with a grin. Harley snorts. 

“Fine, fine. Only because you want to see your dad and brothers for some weird reason. But the second you get tired of them, you can come live with Auntie Harley.” She insists. Bruce opens his mouth to object, but Marinette cuts him off. 

“Of course.” She says, giving her another quick hug before turning to look at her dad. “See ya later dad, I’m gonna go change for breakfast.” She says, giving him a quick hug before going back into the apartment. 

“I win.” Harley says with a smirk. “Conditionally.” 

“I- fine. Conditionally. Please be cautious of what you say while out for breakfast. She’s not quite ready to be announced as a Wayne.” Bruce says.

“Whatever you say, B-man.” Harley says with a half-hearted salute. Bruce simply sighs before walking away. Harley grins. She definitely won this round.

Tag list: @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82

[wiypt-writes]

Riding On

Ch 16- A Whole Fucking Hand Of Aces Part 2

Summary Recap: Mary is reeling over the news about her biological father and when he requests a visit, she’s not for playing ball. However, eventually curiosity gets the better of her and she tells Frank she wants to see him. Fliss and Bill attend as supervision as Frank can’t bring himself to go, and Fliss plays her ace card. But does it have the required outcome?

Warnings Recap: Bad Language words.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 16 Part 1

Staring at the mirror was now one of Alex’s favourite activities, and Frank had to chuckle as the baby was led on his stomach on the floor of their bedroom, his head raised as he glanced at his reflection on the mirrored wardrobe door. He moved his arm a little and became excited when the baby glancing back at him did the same.

“If only you were gonna stay so easy to entertain.” Frank muttered, scooping him up in his arms. Alex let out a loud shriek, one that he seemed to be emitting a lot after having suddenly found his voice at now sixteen weeks old. Frank stood in front of the mirror, holding him with one strong forearm over his chest so the baby could continue to see himself in the mirror. “Hey look buddy…shall we wave?” Frank grabbed one of Alex’s arms with his spare hand and waved it slightly, Alex letting out another loud shriek, his little noises getting more and more excited. Frank laughed and pressed a kiss to his head, looking up as Fliss walked into the room. Alex’s eyes immediately flickered to his momma and he gave another huge grin.

Fliss beamed and cross the room towards them, giving Alex’s cheek a soft peck before she leaned up to press her lips to Frank’s.

“Mary’s ready.” She said and Frank took a deep breath.

“She ok?”

“Yeah” Fliss nodded.

“I know I really should be the one doing this.” Frank sighed “But I just can’t sit round a table with him Liss, I’ll end up punching him in his fucking nose and…” “Hey, we’re a team remember?” Fliss looked at him “I get it Frank, you don’t need to explain.”

Frank nodded and took another deep breath “I’m gonna take Alex for a walk on the harbour and then we’ll be at Greg’s when you’re done.”

“Sure, we’ll come straight over.”  Fliss nodded

“And you’ll call if there’s any trouble?”

“There won’t be. It’s gonna be fine. We got Steve with us so…”

“I know but…” “You still worry, yeah I get it.” Fliss smiled.

At that point they heard the door open and Steve’s voice shouted down the hall, announcing his arrival. The three of them made their way downstairs and Steve grinned, making grabby hands at Alex. Frank passed him over and Steve took his nephew, immediately starting to talk to him in an over exaggerated baby voice.

“Nice to see you too.” Fliss teasingly snarked and Steve stuck his tongue out at her, before he shrugged.

“I aint seen him in two weeks” he responded, unapologetically as Alex made a grab for his beard.

“You aint seen me either.” “Whatever, I grew up seeing you every day for like 20 years …”

Fliss rolled her eyes as she walked into the family room. Mary was sat on the sofa a book in her lap but she wasn’t reading, she was staring at a spot on the floor.

“Stack, you ok?” Frank asked and she looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah. I’m good.” “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want.” Frank crouched down in front of her. “This isn’t court ordered…” “No, I want to.” Mary nodded “I want to ask him questions to his face, I told you.” “Ok.” Frank nodded, brushing her hair of her face “But you promise me, if at any time you start getting upset, the moment you feel uncomfortable you tell Fliss and Steve and they’ll get you out of there.”

Mary nodded “I promise.”

Frank opened his arms and she melted into them, hugging him tight, pressing her face into his neck. This was killing him. She’d been so brave about the whole thing at first. They’d put off telling her as long as they could, but after voicing their suspicions to Greg who said it was certainly an angle he could raise and use to throw doubts on Polland’s motives, they couldn’t actually do anything at that point in time. So they’d decided to wait, as long as they could, but then, the order from the Child Welfare Department had come through, keen to do the interview before Christmas and they’d had to tell her.

They’d explained, promised her that nothing was going to change with her living arrangements, and she’d took everything in calmly and then shrugged and said that she would simply refuse to see him, end of discussion then hopped down from the sofa to go and see Monty. Frank had been about to explain that it might not be that simple but Fliss had stopped him with a look.

Then, in advance of the CWD interview, Greg had a call from Polland’s attorney who had requested a visit with Mary as a ‘goodwill gesture’ from Frank and Fliss without getting the authorities involved. And much to Frank’s disgust, Greg was recommending that they allow it with the caveat that it was supervised. “It will put you in an even more favourable position, Frank. Play the long game…” At those words Frank had hurled his phone across the lounge causing it to fly straight into the wall in a fit of rage and temper Fliss had never seen from him before. At the noise Alex had immediately started to cry and Frank had felt like shit. He looked round with teary eyes to see Fliss gently rocking their son, not a shred of anger or upset on her face as she walked towards him, Alex balanced in one arm as he cried into her shoulder, the other arm gently rubbing up Frank’s as he apologised over and over again.

Mary had reacted as angrily as Frank. Screaming, shouting, barricading herself in her bedroom by dragging her desk in front of the door. Fliss had sat outside her bedroom door calmly talking to her, before she’d called for reinforcements just has Frank had done a few years ago and Steve had arrived. When she had emerged the three adults had assured her that no one was going to make her do anything she didn’t want, but this time they did explain that it might be a court order at some point in the future. They didn’t get back to Greg straight away, which proved to be a smart move as a day or so later Mary announced over dinner that she would see him, as she had some questions and she wanted to ask him face to face. So, given that Frank openly admitted he wasn’t sure he could be in the same room as Polland without breaking his face, Greg had offered to supervise in their place until Fliss had shaken her head and told them that would put Mary on edge. In the end it was agreed she would do it, but at Frank’s request given the suspected link to John’s family, Steve was going to accompany her.  So here they were, a week to go until Christmas, with the impending Welfare Department Interviews set for the following Monday. And Frank was trying not to lose himself again.

“Jesus Pal…” Steve mumbled causing Frank to turn to him as Alex had his little fist wrapped in the hairs of his beard “He’s got some grip on him…” Steve looked at Fliss then Frank.

Mary laughed “He likes to pull my hair…and Fred’s tail, only Fred runs away now.” “Thor doesn’t, dumb mutt…” Frank rolled his eyes, as Fliss gently distracted Alex’s hands by offering him her finger.

“That’s why Frank’s trimmed his beard” Fliss smiled

“It was that or wait till be pulled it clean off my face.” Frank shrugged, rubbing his hand over the shorts stubble as he stood up, Mary doing the same.

“Ok, we ready?” Fliss looked at Mary who nodded. She turned to Steve “You ok to drop us at Greg’s after or do you want me to drive?”

“I can drop you.” Steve nodded and he moved to hand Alex over to Frank when Mary, who had just walked past them to the door, turned and ran back to Frank, throwing her arms round him.

“I love you Frank.” She said softly and Frank felt his chest tighten. He bent down to pick her up and hugged her tight, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.

“Love you too Stack.” He said softly, kissing the side of her head. Gently he set her down, his large hand cupping her cheek before she headed to the door.

“She’ll be ok Frank.” Steve looked at him as he passed Alex over. Frank gave him a nod, not trusting his voice and Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at Fliss who jerked her head to the door and taking the hint he yelled after Mary to wait up and wandered after her. Without a word she closed the distance between her and Frank, standing on her toes to give Frank a soft kiss. He pressed his head to hers, Alex safely held against his shoulder and gave her a smile. “It’s gonna be fine.” She whispered.

“Yeah. I’ll see you in coupla hours.” He nodded, kissing her again before she left.

**** The journey to the burger bar passed fairly quickly, Steve and Fliss carrying the conversation mostly as Mary was silent, looking out of the window. When they arrived, Steve hopped out of the Audi and opened the back door for Mary.

“Ma’am” he bowed slightly to her and she looked at him.

“Poppa Bill’s right. You’re a divvy.” She said

Fliss burst out laughing as Mary walked a little ahead “Hearing that word in an American accent is almost as good as when Frank says wanker“

Steve sniggered as they caught up to Mary at the main door. Mary paused and looked inside through the glass, and then she glanced at Fliss.

“How will I even know who he is?” It was a simple question, but one that made Fliss instantly realise just how shit this situation was for Mary. Her own biological father, she was about to meet him for the first time and she had no idea what he even looked like. Mind you, Fliss had no idea what hers looked like either. She’d never asked and her mum had never offered the information up. Not that she cared in the slightest.

“Frank told me what he looked like.” Fliss assured Mary, her hand falling to the back of the girl’s head. “It’s ok.” “Stack, you don’t have to do this.” Steve looked down at her. “We can turn round and go straight home. This is your choice ok?” “No, I want to.” She insisted. Steve nodded, pulled the door open and they stepped inside. Fliss scanned around the room and then spotted a man matching the description Frank had given her, sat at a table by one of the large windows. His eyes looked around the room and he minute he spotted them he stood up.

“That him?” Steve asked. Fliss nodded

“I think so”

“Well, he looks like an ass hole so...”

“Steve…” Fliss said, “Don’t.”

“Ok, ok…” her brother nodded. “I’m gonna grab some grub and I’ll be at the table behind if you need me, ok?”

Fliss nodded and her hand gently dropped to Mary’s shoulder and Mary looked up at her. “I think that’s him.” Fliss said, inclining her head in Polland’s direction. Mary looked at him, staying stock still for a moment before she took a little step forward, Fliss following right behind her.

“Bradley Polland?” Fliss asked and he nodded, running a hand through his gelled, light ginger hair. “I’m Felicity.”

“HI.” He nodded, offering her his hand which Fliss shook curtly before she gently lay her hand on Mary’s head as Polland looked down at her smiling. “Hi Mary. It’s nice to meet you.” It’s nice to meet you… the words sounded utterly ridiculous to Fliss, coming from a father to his daughter, but then again, what else had she expected seeing as he’d never been in the same room as her before.

Mary blinked at him, but didn’t say anything. Instead she turned to Fliss “Lissy, can we get something to eat?”

“Sure baby.” Fliss nodded, and then she looked at Polland and gave him a stiff smile “We’ll grab something and then be right over ok?”

“Sure.” He swallowed “I’ll just…” he gestured back at the table before he walked away.

“He doesn’t look like I imagined.” Mary said as they headed to the counter.

“No?” Fliss asked.

“You sure he’s my dad?”

“DNA says so.” 

“Huh.” Mary replied “I thought he would have been more handsome, or at least not look like he got dressed in the dark.”

Fliss let out a bark of a laugh as she glanced back at Polland, taking in his grey jeans and hideous bright, striped polo shirt. His blondey-red hair was messed up and his stubble was also ungroomed. “Well, he does look a little dishevelled so to speak. Good job you got the Adler genes kiddo.”

“And he’s ginger.”

“Oi!” Fliss nudged her “Nothing wrong with us red-heads. Ask Fred!”

“Yeah but you’re pretty…and Fred’s cute.” Mary reasoned, and Fliss chuckled, ruffling her hair.

They ordered their food, and Fliss carried the tray back to the table, Mary hopping up onto the seat opposite Polland as Fliss passed her the burger and fries she’d asked for, along with the soda. Fliss carefully made a deal of adding sugar to her coffee whilst Polland asked Mary a few little questions making small talk- how are you, tell me about yourself, that type of thing, until it grew a little stilted, so Fliss took it on herself to attempt to facilitate a little.

“Mary why don’t you tell Bradley about Monty?” she asked.

“Who’s Monty, your cousin?” Polland seized the opportunity and Mary looked at him as if he was a dumbass.

“No, my cousins are called Charlie and Joel. They’re Uncle Steeby’s twins. He’s Fliss’ brother. Frank and Fliss’ baby, he’s my brother. His name is Alex.” She stated “Monty is my pony.”

Polland blinked at her forthright answer before he nodded “A pony? So you ride?”

She nodded “I show jump. I’ve done a few competitions now.” “Did you win any?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “But I’ve had a few rosettes and stuff. Frank and Liss always tell me that it doesn’t matter if I win or not, I should just enjoy it.” “Good advice.” He nodded “So do you have any other pets?” “We have a dog, Thor. He’s big and he bites people if he gets mad” Mary said, and Fliss looked away, trying not to laugh at the utter nonsense about the dog that had never bitten anyone in his life, “And I have Fred. He’s ginger like you, but it looks good on him. And he only has one eye.”

Ok so now Fliss really was laughing silently, and she looked up and saw that from the table behind theirs, Steve’s shoulders were shaking as he hid his face behind the paper he was pretending to read.

“You have a one eyed cat?” Polland raised his eyebrows. “Sounds cool”

“He is.” Mary nodded “But he’s dead smart. Smarter than most people. Including you.”

“Mary…” Fliss looked at her “Don’t be nasty.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying.” She shrugged “Frank says Fred is smarter than anyone. Except when he lies on the stairs.”

Fliss smiled and looked at Polland who glanced at her. Fliss nodded towards Mary, instructing him to keep the conversation going, and when he spoke again he said something which was in fairness pretty innocuous, and was probably meant as a compliment but it didn’t quite work out that way.

“You look like your mom.”  He smiled and Fliss took a deep breath as Mary stiffened and she knew instantly that he’d lit the fuse wire.

“Yeah, I know. Frank told me.” Mary pushed the fry she was holding around in the ketchup dip before she gave a sigh and tossed it down onto the burger wrapper and looked at him. “Why did you never want to see me before today?”

“It’s complicated Mary.” Polland said, almost patronisingly and Fliss winced a little. Mary hated being patronised. “But I’m here now.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Mary looked at him. “Frank always answers me when I ask him things because he knows I’m not stupid. Why didn’t you want to see me before?” she repeated her previous question, folding her arms.

“Mary, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know where you were.” Polland reasoned and Fliss rolled her eyes, looking away. “Frank took you when you were-“ “The court case.” Mary cut him off “When you all tried to take me away from Frank last time, why didn’t you come and see me then?”

Fliss took a sip of her coffee, her eyes still on Mary. “You could have followed Frank home.” Mary continued, her breathing becoming deep and Fliss knew they were in for an explosion. But she didn’t try and stop it. This was Mary’s moment. For over 9 years she’d had no contact with this man, the only father she had known was Frank, and she had every reason to be angry, and every right to express that anger.

“You’re right, I could have.” He nodded, “But the case was going on and-“ “That didn’t stop Evelyn.” Mary looked at him. “She saw me during the case. I went to stay with her. Frank told me the court said I had to because she asked. Why didn’t you ask?”

Polland sighed, dropping his gaze to the table. “I guess…well, I was a little nervous, you know. I’d never seen you before, I…” He was floundering for excuses, excuses and reasons that weren’t coming to him because he simply didn’t have them and Fliss remained silent as he looked at her, almost pleading for help. She arched an eyebrow and looked away. She wasn’t giving him anything, not now.

“You didn’t want to, did you?” Mary shook her head, her voice cracking slightly and Fliss turned to her, watching her carefully. She didn’t want her to be upset, but she also didn’t want to remove her from the situation before she’d said her piece. She glanced up at Steve who was now watching them, all pretence of reading the paper gone. He shot her a look to check they were ok and she nodded to Mary as the little girl continued. “You didn’t want me when I was a baby and you didn’t want me 2 years ago so why now?”

Steve looked back at Fliss, shaking his head, telling her to let it continue so she did.

Polland let out a soft sigh and he shook his head “I was wrong, I know that but…Mary, I’m your dad.” He shrugged “And I’m sorry. I really am, and, well, I wanted to see you now, is that so bad?”

“You’re not my dad.” Mary shot back, wiping at her eyes “Frank is my dad. And you’re trying to stop him and Lissy from adopting me.” “Mary, I…”

“If you cared about me at all you’d leave me alone and never contact me again.” Mary looked at him. “Because of you and Evelyn, I spent a week away from Frank and I hated it. But I forgave Evelyn because she realised she was wrong. And she told me that and she said she was sorry, but you…you just want to do that to me again?”

“No, Mary, that’s not what I want at all.” Polland shook his head “I don’t want to take you away, I just want to see you and-“

“Well I don’t want to see you.” Mary glared at him. “Not now. Not ever. And I’ll tell that lady from the Child services that when she asks. And because Frank tells me to be honest I’ll tell her that I hate you. Because I do!” her voice rose to a yell as she stood up suddenly, sending her chair crashing to the ground. Fliss reached up and gently laying a hand on her back.

“Mary…” she soothed, but Mary shrugged her off, her eyes blazing, her face was red and the tears were trickling down her face. Fliss glanced at Steve who was already out of his chair and striding over to them, before she looked back at Polland who was looking a little abashed, as he swallowed nervously, scratching at his neck.

“Come on Stack.” Steve spoke calmly as she turned to him, burying her face into his shirt, just above his hip and he picked her up gently. He shot Polland a filthy look and the man visibly recoiled, and Fliss had to bite back the smirk on her face. Steve was positively petrifying when he looked like that. She stood up and turned towards where Mary was sobbing gently into the crook of his neck.

“You ok?” She asked gently, rubbing at Mary’s back and she sniffed, looking at Fliss

“I wanna go home.” “Ok.” Fliss nodded and she turned to Steve “Can you take her to the car, I need a word with…” she jerked her head at Polland and Steve looked back at him, shooting him another vile glare before he looked back at Fliss.

“Sure, meet you out there.”

She nodded “I won’t be long.”

As Steve walked away, Mary on his hip Fliss sat back on her chair, before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced down, swiped at the button on the front before she placed the phone down on the table and glanced at Polland.

“That went well.” She deadpanned.

“What do you want me to say?”

“There’s nothing you can say, not now. The damage is done.” Fliss looked at him “You have no idea how upset she was when we broke the news to her that you were contesting our application. It’s all she’s wanted for months since we made the decision, for us to be her official parents and you’re now taking all that away from her.”

“She’s my daughter…” “She’s been your daughter for 9 years, and you’ve been nowhere to be seen. Well, until the court case that is. And then after that you crawled right back underneath whatever rock you emerged from, not that we’re complaining.” Fliss shrugged. “In fact, we wish you’d stayed there.”

“When those papers came through…” Polland cleared his throat, “It just felt so final, like, if I let her go, I’d never see her again, and it just made me feel…” “It sparked some deep, hidden paternal instinct.” Fliss said, sarcastically as she remembered the words Gregg had spoken a few weeks earlier. She took a deep breath, before she bit her lip and decided to go straight in for the kill. “Well, I really hope whatever the Stazikers are paying you is worth the hell you’re putting her through.”

Polland’s face slipped “Who?”

“Cut the shit Polland.” Fliss sighed, “I know what you're up to just how much are they paying you?”

“I really have no idea who-“

All it took was Fliss’ best stern look and he caved, sighed heavily.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?” Fliss whispered, not quite sure she’d heard him right.”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…” Fliss practically snarled at him, the blood pounding in her ears from her anger. “You’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.” Polland sighed, shrugging.

Fliss let out a sarcastic laugh “Jesus Christ…” she shook her head. “So, let me ask you this…they fund your court case, block the adoption and turn our lives upside down, leave Mary heartbroken again, they pay you your money and then what?

“I won’t get custody, I know that. I don’t want it…”

“No but you will likely get visitations. Are you then going to step up and abide by whatever ruling or access you get?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t thought that far.”

“You haven’t thought at all…” Fliss shook her head “For the record, I think you have to be one of, if not, the most despicable people I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and that’s no easy title to earn, believe me.  I can tell you this right now, you’re getting fuck all out of us. So you tell that shit head family from me, that they want a fight, they can have one.”

“Fine, guess I’ll see you in court.”

“I guess you will.” Fliss stood up, before she leaned forward, her palms flat on the table “And I hope you’re not expecting a clean fight either.” “What?” Polland blinked. “What do you mean, a clean fight?”

“We know all about Evelyn, how your little arrangement went down last time. How she had a word in a few peoples ears about getting your company the deal for the University accounts in exchanged for you nominating her as Mary’s guardian in court…”

Polland swallowed “That…that was…look, it was a thank you, not a bribe.” “Evelyn told me everything.” She said “She told me what the deal was. That you did your part, you said what she coached you to say, and she would convince her buddy’s in the University Procurement department to take your company’s bid by offering them a little payment each.”

“That, no…that deal my company did came after court…”

“I’m sure it did, I mean Evelyn wanted to make sure you fulfilled your side of the bargain before she parted with her cash.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“No?” Fliss raised an eyebrow “Thing is, Evelyn and Frank are on good terms now. And she’s behind him here 100% and she already said she’d do whatever it takes to help us push this adoption through. Including coming clean.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms “You know, I’m not so sure that the Education Authorities would look favourably on it, or your company for that matter. Not after they were already done for Corruption and Bribery back in 2005 on another deal. What was it the report said?” she fake pondered for a moment “Oh, yes. Back handers to the down selection committee and evading the nature of true competition. The CEO lost his job, did he not?”

Polland looked at her, and his eyes narrowed “So what are you saying here? That I back off or you’ll start making noises?”

Fliss shrugged.

Polland looked at her for a moment, shaking his head “That’s blackmail”

“And you telling me that 15k will beat whatever dirty offer you’ve already isn’t?”

Polland swallowed and looked down at the table, and in that moment Fliss knew she’d made her point. But just to drive it home even more, she issued him one last veiled threat that she hoped would do the trick.

“You think on what I’ve said. And I hope you come to the right decision, if not, then like you say, we’ll see you in court and find out what the authorities think about it all.”

And with that she shrugged on her jacket, grabbed her phone, stuffed it into her purse and left.

Once outside she walked straight past the Audi, where Steve and Mary were talking and climbed into the black range rover parked behind.

“You get it?” she turned to her dad and he raised an eyebrow, before he tapped a button on his phone.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…you’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.”

Fliss smirked a little at the fact the plan had worked. It had been a simple one. She was always going to hang back to speak to him in private, Steve leaving with Mary being the signal for her Dad to call, at which point she’d answer, leave the phone on the table, and the App which Steve had found would record the whole damned thing.

“Got it all.” Bill said, looking at her “Jesus Titch, I wanted to come right over there and knock his teeth out.”

Fliss ran her hands over her face. “I tell you what though, I didn’t think he’d be as easy to crack as he was…and as for then trying to bribe us too…what a dumbass!”

Bill snorted “You do know this might not be admissible in court, right?”

“I don’t think it’s gonna come to that.” Fliss looked out of the windscreen of the car before she turned back to her father “His face when I told him about Evelyn, he shit himself dad. As soon as Greg files this recording for admission, his attorney will get a copy so he’ll know we have proof of what he’s done. He’ll back down, he won’t want to lose his job or get exposed for being nothing but a fucking con-artist.” 

Bill smirked “You know, when you suggested this to me the other day I didn’t think it was gonna work but…seems like you got him by the balls Titch!”

“What was it you always told me about fighting fire with fire?” She grinned and Bill snorted. “That adding more fire makes the situation hotter and sometimes what you need is...”

“A cool bucket of water.” Bill finished for her as Fliss chuckled.

“Yup, and like Frank said when we came up with the idea.” she glanced out of the window at Steve’s car which was now pulling out of the parking space, Mary chatting to him from the passenger seat. “Sometimes beating someone at their own game is much more satisfying than simply punching them in the face.”

***** Chapter 17

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph!🌟Do u have any fics with smut that is feelingy, ie more focused on the emotional aspect & how they're feeling while doing it than the phy sensations & descriptions? Hope u get wt I'm saying. Thx in Advance!💖

OOOOO Nonny! 

I’ve got just the list for you! and it will give me an excuse to do a part two to another list of mine!! <3 

I do have a Sensuality list in the works, so look out for that in a while, but I think for now this list and the “see also” is perfect for you! 

Feel free, friends, to add your own!

EMOTIONAL LOVE MAKING Pt. 2

See also: Emotional Love Making Pt 1 || [MOBILE POST]

Just Like That by sussexbound (E, 8,442 w., Ch. 1 || First Time/Kiss, Frottage, Virgin Sherlock, French Kissing, Anal, Emotional Lovemaking, Enthusiastic Consent, Tenderness, Crying John, Bathing/Washing, Insecure John, Toplock) – John doesn’t want to talk anymore. He wants. Oh dear god, how he wants. For the first time in what feels like years he WANTS.

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John's preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w., 15 Ch. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Jealous John, Falling in Various Ways, Needy Sherlock) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Points by lifeonmars (E, 53,791 w., 42 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || HLV Rewrite / Canon Divergence, Married Life, Pregnancy / Baby Watson, Drinking to Cope, Boxing / Fisticuffs, Clueless John, Angst, Minor Medical Drama, Tattoos, Christmas, First Kiss/Time, Eventual Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Doctor John, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, Case Fic, Drugging, Blow/Hand Job, Emotional Love Making, Parenthood, Passage of Time) – What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding On

Ch 16- A Whole Fucking Hand Of Aces

Part 2

Summary Recap: Mary is reeling over the news about her biological father and when he requests a visit, she’s not for playing ball. However, eventually curiosity gets the better of her and she tells Frank she wants to see him. Fliss and Bill attend as supervision as Frank can’t bring himself to go, and Fliss plays her ace card. But does it have the required outcome?

Warnings Recap: Bad Language words.

More huge thanks to @icanfeelastormbrewing​, @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for their little input into this and to @southerngracela​ for beta reading! Catch up with Part 1

 Staring at the mirror was now one of Alex’s favourite activities, and Frank had to chuckle as the baby was led on his stomach on the floor of their bedroom, his head raised as he glanced at his reflection on the mirrored wardrobe door. He moved his arm a little and became excited when the baby glancing back at him did the same.

“If only you were gonna stay so easy to entertain.” Frank muttered, scooping him up in his arms. Alex let out a loud shriek, one that he seemed to be emitting a lot after having suddenly found his voice at now 16 weeks old. Frank stood in front of the mirror, holding him with one strong forearm over his chest so the baby could continue to see himself in the mirror. “Hey look buddy…shall we wave?” Frank grabbed one of Alex’s arms with his spare hand and waved it slightly, Alex letting out another loud shriek, his little noises getting more and more excited. Frank laughed and pressed a kiss to his head, looking up as Fliss walked into the room. Alex’s eyes immediately flickered to his momma and he gave another huge grin.

Fliss beamed and cross the room towards them, giving Alex’s cheek a soft peck before she leaned up to press her lips to Frank’s.

“Mary’s ready.” She said and Frank took a deep breath.

“She ok?”

“Yeah” Fliss nodded.

“I know I really should be the one doing this.” Frank sighed “But I just can’t sit round a table with him Liss, I’ll end up punching him in his fucking nose and…” “Hey, we’re a team remember?” Fliss looked at him “I get it Frank, you don’t need to explain.”

Frank nodded and took another deep breath “I’m gonna take Alex for a walk on the harbour and then we’ll be at Greg’s when you’re done.”

“Sure, we’ll come straight over.”  Fliss nodded

“And you’ll call if there’s any trouble?”

“There won’t be. It’s gonna be fine. We got Steve with us so…”

“I know but…” “You still worry, yeah I get it.” Fliss smiled.

At that point they heard the door open and Steve’s voice shouted down the hall, announcing his arrival. The three of them made their way downstairs and Steve grinned, making grabby hands at Alex. Frank passed him over and Steve took his nephew, immediately starting to talk to him in an over exaggerated baby voice.

“Nice to see you too.” Fliss teasingly snarked and Steve stuck his tongue out at her, before he shrugged.

“I aint seen him in two weeks” he responded, unapologetically as Alex made a grab for his beard.

“You aint seen me either.” “Whatever, I grew up seeing you every day for like 20 years …”

Fliss rolled her eyes as she walked into the family room. Mary was sat on the sofa a book in her lap but she wasn’t reading, she was staring at a spot on the floor.

“Stack, you ok?” Frank asked and she looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah. I’m good.” “You know, you don’t have to go if you don’t want.” Frank crouched down in front of her. “This isn’t court ordered…” “No, I want to.” Mary nodded “I want to ask him questions to his face, I told you.” “Ok.” Frank nodded, brushing her hair of her face “But you promise me, if at any time you start getting upset, the moment you feel uncomfortable you tell Fliss and Steve and they’ll get you out of there.”

Mary nodded “I promise.”

Frank opened his arms and she melted into them, hugging him tight, pressing her face into his neck. This was killing him. She’d been so brave about the whole thing at first. They’d put off telling her as long as they could, but after voicing their suspicions to Greg who said it was certainly an angle he could raise and use to throw doubts on Polland’s motives, they couldn’t actually do anything at that point in time. So they’d decided to wait, as long as they could, but then, the order from the Child Welfare Department had come through, keen to do the interview before Christmas and they’d had to tell her.

They’d explained, promised her that nothing was going to change with her living arrangements, and she’d took everything in calmly and then shrugged and said that she would simply refuse to see him, end of discussion then hopped down from the sofa to go and see Monty. Frank had been about to explain that it might not be that simple but Fliss had stopped him with a look.

Then, in advance of the CWD interview, Greg had a call from Polland’s attorney who had requested a visit with Mary as a ‘goodwill gesture’ from Frank and Fliss without getting the authorities involved. And much to Frank’s disgust, Greg was recommending that they allow it with the caveat that it was supervised. “It will put you in an even more favourable position, Frank. Play the long game…” At those words Frank had hurled his phone across the lounge causing it to fly straight into the wall in a fit of rage and temper Fliss had never seen from him before. At the noise Alex had immediately started to cry and Frank had felt like shit. He looked round with teary eyes to see Fliss gently rocking their son, not a shred of anger or upset on her face as she walked towards him, Alex balanced in one arm as he cried into her shoulder, the other arm gently rubbing up Frank’s as he apologised over and over again.

Mary had reacted as angrily as Frank. Screaming, shouting, barricading herself in her bedroom by dragging her desk in front of the door. Fliss had sat outside her bedroom door calmly talking to her, before she’d called for reinforcements just has Frank had done a few years ago and Steve had arrived. When she had emerged the three adults had assured her that no one was going to make her do anything she didn’t want, but this time they did explain that it might be a court order at some point in the future. They didn’t get back to Greg straight away, which proved to be a smart move as a day or so later Mary announced over dinner that she would see him, as she had some questions and she wanted to ask him face to face. So, given that Frank openly admitted he wasn’t sure he could be in the same room as Polland without breaking his face, Greg had offered to supervise in their place until Fliss had shaken her head and told them that would put Mary on edge. In the end it was agreed she would do it, but at Frank’s request given the suspected link to John’s family, Steve was going to accompany her.  So here they were, a week to go until Christmas, with the impending Welfare Department Interviews set for the following Monday. And Frank was trying not to lose himself again.

“Jesus Pal…” Steve mumbled causing Frank to turn to him as Alex had his little fist wrapped in the hairs of his beard “He’s got some grip on him…” Steve looked at Fliss then Frank.

Mary laughed “He likes to pull my hair…and Fred’s tail, only Fred runs away now.” “Thor doesn’t, dumb mutt…” Frank rolled his eyes, as Fliss gently distracted Alex’s hands by offering him her finger.

“That’s why Frank’s trimmed his beard” Fliss smiled

“It was that or wait till be pulled it clean off my face.” Frank shrugged as he stood up, Mary doing the same.

“Ok, we ready?” Fliss looked at Mary who nodded. She turned to Steve “You ok to drop us at Greg’s after or do you want me to drive?”

“I can drop you.” Steve nodded and he moved to hand Alex over to Frank when Mary, who had just walked past them to the door, turned and ran back to Frank, throwing her arms round him.

“I love you Frank.” She said softly and Frank felt his chest tighten. He bent down to pick her up and hugged her tight, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.

“Love you too Stack.” He said softly, kissing the side of her head. Gently he set her down, his large hand cupping her cheek before she headed to the door.

“She’ll be ok Frank.” Steve looked at him as he passed Alex over. Frank gave him a nod, not trusting his voice and Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder. He glanced at Fliss who jerked her head to the door and taking the hint he yelled after Mary to wait up and wandered after her. Without a word she closed the distance between her and Frank, standing on her toes to give Frank a soft kiss. He pressed his head to hers, Alex safely held against his shoulder and gave her a smile. “Love you.” She whispered.

“You too. See you in coupla hours.” He nodded, kissing her again before she left.

**** The journey to the burger bar passed fairly quickly, Steve and Fliss carrying the conversation mostly as Mary was silent, looking out of the window. When they arrived, Steve hopped out of the Audi and opened the back door for Mary.

“Ma’am” he bowed slightly to her and she looked at him.

“Poppa Bill’s right. You’re a divvy.” She said

Fliss burst out laughing as Mary walked a little ahead “Hearing that word in an American accent is almost as good as when Frank says wanker“

Steve sniggered as they caught up to Mary at the main door. Mary paused and looked inside through the glass, and then she glanced at Fliss.

“How will I even know who he is?” It was a simple question, but one that made Fliss instantly realise just how shit this situation was for Mary. Her own biological father, she was about to meet him for the first time and she had no idea what he even looked like. Mind you, Fliss had no idea what hers looked like either. She’d never asked and her mum had never offered the information up. Not that she cared in the slightest.

“Frank told me what he looked like.” Fliss assured Mary, her hand falling to the back of the girl’s head. “It’s ok.” “Stack, you don’t have to do this.” Steve looked down at her. “We can turn round and go straight home. This is your choice ok?” “No, I want to.” She insisted. Steve nodded, pulled the door open and they stepped inside. Fliss scanned around the room and then spotted a man matching the description Frank had given her, sat at a table by one of the large windows. His eyes looked around the room and he minute he spotted them he stood up.

“That him?” Steve asked. Fliss nodded

“I think so”

“Well, he looks like an ass hole so...”

“Steve…” Fliss said, “Don’t.”

“Ok, ok…” her brother nodded. “I’m gonna grab some grub and I’ll be at the table behind if you need me, ok?”

Fliss nodded and her hand gently dropped to Mary’s shoulder and Mary looked up at her. “I think that’s him.” Fliss said, inclining her head in Polland’s direction. Mary looked at him, staying stock still for a moment before she took a little step forward, Fliss following right behind her.

“Bradley Polland?” Fliss asked and he nodded, running a hand through his gelled, light ginger hair. “I’m Felicity.”

“HI.” He nodded, offering her his hand which Fliss shook curtly before she gently lay her hand on Mary’s head as Polland looked down at her smiling. “Hi Mary. It’s nice to meet you.” It’s nice to meet you… the words sounded utterly ridiculous to Fliss, coming from a father to his daughter, but then again, what else had she expected seeing as he’d never been in the same room as her before.

Mary blinked at him, but didn’t say anything. Instead she turned to Fliss “Lissy, can we get something to eat?”

“Sure baby.” Fliss nodded, and then she looked at Polland and gave him a stiff smile “We’ll grab something and then be right over ok?”

“Yeah, yeah...” He swallowed “I’ll just…” he gestured back at the table before he walked away.

“He doesn’t look like I Imagined.” Mary said as they headed to the counter.

“No?” Fliss asked.

“You sure he’s my dad?”

“DNA says so.” Fliss said

“Huh.” Mary replied “I thought he would have been more handsome, or at least not look like he got dressed in the dark.”

Fliss let out a bark of a laugh as she glanced back at Polland, taking in his grey jeans and hideous bright, striped polo shirt. His blondey-red hair was messed up and his stubble was also ungroomed. “Well, he does look a little dishevelled so to speak. Good job you got the Adler genes kiddo.”

“And he’s ginger.”

“Oi!” Fliss nudged her “Nothing wrong with us red-heads. Ask Fred!”

“Yeah but you’re pretty…and Fred’s cute.” Mary reasoned, and Fliss chuckled, ruffling her hair.

They ordered their food, and Fliss carried the tray back to the table, Mary hopping up onto the seat opposite Polland as Fliss passed her the burger and fries she’d asked for, along with the soda. Fliss carefully made a deal of adding sugar to her coffee whilst Polland asked Mary a few little questions making small talk- how are you, tell me about yourself, that type of thing, until it grew a little stilted, so Fliss took it on herself to attempt to facilitate a little.

“Mary why don’t you tell Bradley about Monty?” she asked.

“Who’s Monty, your cousin?” Polland seized the opportunity and Mary looked at him as if he was a dumbass.

“No, my cousins are called Charlie and Joel. They’re Uncle Steeby’s twins. He’s Fliss’ brother. Frank and Fliss’ baby, he’s my brother. His name is Alex.” She stated “Monty is my pony.”

Polland blinked at her forthright answer before he nodded “A pony? So you ride?”

She nodded “I show jump. I’ve done a few competitions now.” “Did you win any?”

“Not yet.” Mary said “But I’ve had a few rosettes and stuff. Frank and Liss always tell me that it doesn’t matter if I win or not, I should just enjoy it.” “Good advice.” He nodded “So do you have any other pets?” “We have a dog, Thor. He’s big and he bites people if he gets mad” Mary said, and Fliss looked away, trying not to laugh at the utter nonsense about the dog that had never bitten anyone in his life, “And I have Fred. He’s ginger like you, but it looks good on him. And he only has one eye.”

Ok so now Fliss really was laughing silently, and she looked up and saw that from the table behind theirs, Steve’s shoulders were shaking as he hid his face behind the paper he was pretending to read.

“You have a one eyed cat?” Polland raised his eyebrows. “Sounds cool”

“He is.” Mary nodded “But he’s dead smart. Smarter than most people. Including you.”

“Mary…” Fliss looked at her “Don’t be nasty.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying.” She shrugged “Frank says Fred is smarter than anyone. Except when he lies on the stairs.”

Fliss smiled and looked at Polland who glanced at her. Fliss nodded towards Mary, instructing him to keep the conversation going, and when he spoke again he said something which was in fairness pretty innocuous, and was probably meant as a compliment but it didn’t quite work out that way.

“You look like your mom.”  He smiled and Fliss took a deep breath as Mary stiffened and she knew instantly that he’d lit the fuse wire.

“Yeah, I know. Frank told me.” Mary pushed the fry she was holding around in the ketchup dip before she gave a sigh and tossed it down onto the burger wrapper and looked at him. “Why did you never want to see me before today?”

“It’s complicated Mary.” Polland said, almost patronisingly and Fliss winced a little. Mary hated being patronised. “But I’m here now.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Mary looked at him. “Frank always answers me when I ask him things because he knows I’m not stupid. Why didn’t you want to see me before?” she repeated her previous question, folding her arms.

“Mary, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to, but I didn’t know where you were.” Polland reasoned and Fliss rolled her eyes, looking away. “Frank took you when you were-“ “The court case.” Mary cut him off “When you all tried to take me away from Frank last time, why didn’t you come and see me then?”

Fliss took a sip of her coffee, her eyes still on Mary. “You could have followed Frank home.” Mary continued, her breathing becoming deep and Fliss knew they were in for an explosion. But she didn’t try and stop it. This was Mary’s moment. For over 9 years she’d had no contact with this man, the only father she had known was Frank, and she had every reason to be angry, and every right to express that anger.

“You’re right, I could have.” He nodded, “But the case was going on and-“ “That didn’t stop Evelyn.” Mary looked at him. “She saw me during the case. I went to stay with her. Frank told me the court said I had to because she asked. Why didn’t you ask?”

Polland sighed, dropping his gaze to the table. “I guess…well, I was a little nervous, you know. I’d never seen you before, I…” He was floundering for excuses, excuses and reasons that weren’t coming to him because he simply didn’t have them and Fliss remained silent as he looked at her, almost pleading for help. She arched an eyebrow and looked away. She wasn’t giving him anything, not now.

“You didn’t want to, did you?” Mary shook her head, her voice cracking slightly and Fliss turned to her, watching her carefully. She didn’t want her to be upset, but she also didn’t want to remove her from the situation before she’d said her piece. She glanced up at Steve who was now watching them, all pretence of reading the paper gone. He shot her a look to check they were ok and she nodded to Mary as the little girl continued. “You didn’t want me when I was a baby and you didn’t want me 2 years ago so why now?”

Steve looked back at Fliss, shaking his head, telling her to let it continue so she did.

Polland let out a soft sigh and he shook his head “I was wrong, I know that but…Mary, I’m your dad.” He shrugged “And I’m sorry. I really am, and, well, I wanted to see you now, is that so bad?”

“You’re not my dad.” Mary shot back, wiping at her eyes “Frank is my dad. And you’re trying to stop him and Lissy from adopting me.” “Mary, I…”

“If you cared about me at all you’d leave me alone and never contact me again.” Mary looked at him. “Because of you and Evelyn, I spent a week away from Frank and I hated it. But I forgave Evelyn because she realised she was wrong. And she told me that and she said she was sorry, but you…you just want to do that to me again?”

“No, Mary, that’s not what I want at all.” Polland shook his head “I don’t want to take you away, I just want to see you and-”

“Well I don’t want to see you.” Mary glared at him. “Not now. Not ever. And I’ll tell that lady from the Child services that when she asks. And because Frank tells me to be honest I’ll tell her that I hate you. Because I do!” her voice rose to a yell as she stood up suddenly, sending her chair crashing to the ground. Fliss reached up and gently laying a hand on her back.

“Mary…” she soothed, but Mary shrugged her off, her eyes blazing, her face was red and the tears were trickling down her face. Fliss glanced at Steve who was already out of his chair and striding over to them, before she looked back at Polland who was looking a little abashed, as he swallowed nervously, scratching at his neck.

“Come on Stack.” Steve spoke calmly as she turned to him, burying her face into his shirt, just above his hip and he picked her up gently. He shot Polland a filthy look and the man visibly recoiled, and Fliss had to bite back the smirk on her face. Steve was positively petrifying when he looked like that. She stood up and turned towards where Mary was sobbing gently into the crook of his neck.

“You ok?” She asked gently, rubbing at Mary’s back and she sniffed, looking at Fliss

“I wanna go home.” “Ok.” Fliss nodded and she turned to Steve “Can you take her to the car, I need a word with…” she jerked her head at Polland and Steve looked back at him, shooting him another vile glare before he looked back at Fliss.

“We’ll be in the car.”

She nodded “I won’t be long.”

As Steve walked away, Mary on his hip Fliss sat back on her chair, before she felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She glanced down, swiped at the button on the front before she placed the phone down on the table and glanced at Polland.

“That went well.” She deadpanned.

“What do you want me to say?”

“There’s nothing you can say, not now. The damage is done.” Fliss looked at him “You have no idea how upset she was when we broke the news to her that you were contesting our application. It’s all she’s wanted for months since we made the decision, for us to be her official parents and you’re now taking all that away from her.”

“She’s my daughter…” “She’s been your daughter for 9 years, and you’ve been nowhere to be seen. Well, until the court case that is. And then after that you crawled right back underneath whatever rock you emerged from, not that we’re complaining.” Fliss shrugged. “In fact, we wish you’d stayed there.”

“When those papers came through…” Polland cleared his throat, “It just felt so final, like, if I let her go, I’d never see her again, and it just made me feel…” “It sparked some deep, hidden paternal instinct.” Fliss said, sarcastically as she remembered the words Gregg had spoken a few weeks earlier. She took a deep breath, before she bit her lip and decided to go straight in for the kill. “Well, I really hope whatever the Stazikers are paying you is worth the hell you’re putting her through.”

Polland’s face slipped “Who?”

“Cut the shit Polland.” Fliss sighed, “I know what you're up to, just how much are they paying you?”

“I really have no idea who-“

All it took was Fliss’ best stern look and he caved, sighed heavily.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?” Fliss whispered, not quite sure she’d heard him right.”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…” Fliss practically snarled at him, the blood pounding in her ears from her anger. “You’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.” Polland sighed, shrugging.

Fliss let out a sarcastic laugh “Jesus Christ…” she shook her head. “So, let me ask you this…they fund your court case, block the adoption and turn our lives upside down, leave Mary heartbroken again, they pay you your money and then what?

“I won’t get custody, I know that. I don’t want it…”

“No but you will likely get visitations. Are you then going to step up and abide by whatever ruling or access you get?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t thought that far.”

“You haven’t thought at all…” Fliss shook her head “For the record, I think you have to be one of, if not, the most despicable people I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and that’s no easy title to earn, believe me.  I can tell you this right now, you’re getting fuck all out of us. So you tell that shit head family from me, that they want a fight, they can have one.”

“Fine, guess I’ll see you in court.”

“I guess you will.” Fliss stood up and leaned forward, her palms flat on the table “And I hope you’re not expecting a clean fight either.” “What?” Polland blinked. “What do you mean, a clean fight?”

“We know all about Evelyn, how your little arrangement went down last time. How she had a word in a few peoples ears about getting your company the deal for the University accounts in exchanged for you nominating her as Mary’s guardian in court…”

Polland swallowed “That…that was…look, it was a thank you, not a bribe.” “Evelyn told me everything.” She said “She told me what the deal was. That you did your part, you said what she coached you to say, and she would convince her buddy’s in the University Procurement department to take your company’s bid by offering them a little payment each.”

“That, no…that deal my company did came after the case…”

“I’m sure it did, I mean Evelyn wanted to make sure you fulfilled your side of the bargain before she parted with her cash.”

“You can’t prove it.”

“No?” Fliss raised an eyebrow “Thing is, Evelyn and Frank are on good terms now. And she’s behind him here 100% and she already said she’d do whatever it takes to help us push this adoption through. Including coming clean.” She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms “You know, I’m not so sure that the Education Authorities would look favourably on it, or your company for that matter. Not after they were already done for Corruption and Bribery back in 2005 on another deal. What was it the report said?” she fake pondered for a moment “Oh, yes. Back handers to the down selection committee and evading the nature of true competition. The CEO lost his job, did he not?”

Polland looked at her, and his eyes narrowed “So what are you saying here? That I back off or you’ll start making noises?”

Fliss straightend up and shrugged.

Polland looked at her for a moment, shaking his head “That’s blackmail”

“And you telling me that 15k will beat whatever dirty offer you’ve already isn’t?”

Polland swallowed and looked down at the table, and in that moment Fliss knew she’d made her point. But just to drive it home even more, she issued him one last veiled threat that she hoped would do the trick.

“You think on what I’ve said. And I hope you come to the right decision, if not, then like you say, we’ll see you in court and find out what the authorities think about it all.”

And with that she shrugged on her jacket, grabbed her phone, stuffed it into her purse and left. Once outside she walked straight past the Audi, where Steve and Mary were talking and climbed into the black range rover parked behind.

“You get it?” she turned to her dad and he raised an eyebrow, before he tapped a button on his phone.

“Fine, let’s just say if you could find me 15 grand, then it would better their offer.” “I beg your pardon?”

“15 grand and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll drop my objections, sign over all my rights, and you’ll never hear from me again.”

“You sick son-of-a…you’re toying with a child’s feelings and life over 15 fucking grand?”

“I need the cash. I’m in debt.”

Fliss smirked a little at the fact their plan had worked. It had been a simple one. She was always going to hang back to speak to him in private, Steve leaving with Mary being the signal for her Dad to call, at which point she’d answer, leave the phone on the table, and the App which Steve had found would record the whole damned thing.

“Got it all.” Bill said, looking at her “Jesus Titch, I wanted to come right over there and knock his teeth out.”

Fliss ran her hands over her face. “I tell you what though, I didn’t think he’d be as easy to crack as he was…and as for then trying to bribe us too…what a dumbass!”

Bill snorted “You do know this might not be admissible in court, right?”

“I don’t think it’s gonna come to that.” Fliss looked out of the windscreen of the car before she turned back to her father “His face when I told him about Evelyn, he shit himself dad. As soon as Greg files this recording for admission, his attorney will get a copy so he’ll know we have proof of what he’s done. He’ll back down, he won’t want to lose his job or get exposed for being nothing but a fucking con-artist.” She

Bill smirked “You know, when you suggested this to me the other day I didn’t think it was gonna work but…seems like you got him by the balls Titch!”

“Fight fire with fire dad.” Fliss grinned “And like Frank said when we came up with the idea, sometimes beating someone at their own game is much more satisfying than simply punching them in the face.”

[stahlop]

I posted 450 times in 2021

46 posts created (10%)

404 posts reblogged (90%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.8 posts.

I added 57 tags in 2021

#captain swan - 9 posts

#once upon a time review - 7 posts

#once upon a time rewatch - 7 posts

#once upon a time - 6 posts

#cs ff - 6 posts

#cs fic rec - 5 posts

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#cs au - 5 posts

#cs fic rec monday - 4 posts

#inspired by runaway bride - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 53 characters

#i can’t even read romance novels without picturing cs

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Ready to Run (3/?)

Hey look! I finally got another chapter out!

A big thanks to the CSMM discord for helping motivate me.

And thank you to my beta, @imlaxdris71​.

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2

Read it on Ao3

Killian is surprised when he meets Graham Humbert. He’d gone back to the short, portly gentleman who had shown him where Emma was before the facial hair incident, and after some raucous laughter at the sight of his new face, he’d pointed Killian in the direction of the sheriff’s station, where Emma’s fiance was the town sheriff. 

Bloody hell!

He really should have done some more research.

Graham, as it turns out, is quite the chatterbox. And although he doesn’t like the fact that Killian hurt Emma with his vlog, he doesn’t seem to hate him like Emma does. He tells Killian all about how he and Emma have known each other since before her first wedding (though he doesn’t go into any details about it other than the fact that the only good thing to come from it was Emma’s son, Henry), and how she’s a lovely girl, despite all the walls she puts up. Killian is glad he’d remembered to open up the voice recording app on his phone before coming into the station, because he’s getting a lot of good stuff for his revenge piece.

And then Graham invites him to meet Emma’s family.

Damn. He guesses you really can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

David and Mary Margaret are lovely people. They live on a farm a few miles out of town where David, a rugged looking blonde with gray at his temples, seems to make a good living with the sheep and chickens and vegetables they grow. Mary Margaret, a petite brunette with a pixie cut, is a teacher at the elementary school, right next door to where Emma teaches art. And then there’s Emma’s younger brother, Leo, just freshly turned 21, and who seems to really appreciate the beer Killian had the foresight to bring with him.

It’s when he sees 10-year-old Henry that Killian really starts to wonder if revenge is the right path (okay, he feels a little bad about the whole thing not knowing she had a son). But then he remembers that he is now unemployed, and if he can just prove that Emma Swan is who he thinks she is, he can either get his job back or at least get a paid job vlogging somewhere else.

Emma looks like she is in a great mood when she enters her family’s home later that evening, and Killian is almost sad to burst her happy bubble.

Almost.

“Hello, Swan.” Killian Jones says in a jovial tone, his lips curling up into a smirk. Emma audibly gasps in horror. He can only imagine how this looks, as he is sitting on the couch in her living room, in between her mother and father, looking at an old photo album from her youth. Graham and her brother, Leo, sit in the two side chairs, both drinking beers, as if hanging out with the man who is actively trying to ruin Emma Swan’s life is an everyday occurrence. Henry, is sitting in a bean bag chair playing contently on an iPad.

“I just came over to make amends with your family.” He says benevolently. “I was wrong to make that vlog without all the facts (true). When I’m wrong, I admit it (false).” He tries to sound as sincere as possible, but Emma doesn’t seem to be buying it, not with the way her green eyes turn into little slits and a look of murder is crossing her face.

“He’s only human.” Her mother says, smiling up at him and patting his hands.

“And he brought beer!” Leo says, lifting his bottle up to show her. Emma rolls her eyes at this. Graham also brings his beer up to air toast with Leo, but Emma gives him a murderous look and he brings his bottle down quickly and takes a large gulp before pulling her towards him to sit on the edge of the chair.

“Dave here’s been telling me all about his many stints as the Father of the Bride.” Killian says, obviously trying to change the subject, but also getting in a jab to rile her up. It works perfectly as her mood sours immensely.

Emma twists herself out of Graham’s grasp and grabs the rest of the six-pack from the side table next to Leo. “I’ll just take these into the kitchen.” She shoots a dirty look at him, and then makes a very stern face at Graham, who finally seems chagrined enough to realize he might be in trouble. 

“I’ll just help you bring those to the kitchen.” He says, jumping up from the chair. 

“Oh, check on the crabs, will you?” Mary Margaret says almost absent-mindedly as she continues to point out pictures in the album to him.

“He’s staying for dinner?” Emma whispers to Graham as they head off. Graham, for his part, realizes just how mad she is at this whole situation.

“Uh, I don’t know.” Graham says in an almost defeated manner. Killian can’t help but try and suppress a smile (unfortunately, it isn’t hidden nearly as well without his facial hair for cover). What a sucker.

“I hope they aren’t arguing. You don’t think they’d call it off, do you?” Killian queries with feigned concern to both Mary Margaret and David. Emma’s parents give each other a look, the kind that married couples give when they don’t have to actually communicate with words. That’s not something Killian has ever experienced. David gives a small sigh.

“Wedding cake freezes,” is all he says, his mouth set in a thin line. Killian decides to try another tactic. He points to a picture of 16-year-old Emma in the photo album showing off her artwork at what looks to be a high school art show.

“I just can’t see the girl in this picture leaving multiple grooms at the altar.” Killian says, shaking his head and applauding his acting skills in his head. 

“Oh, we have them all recorded, so you can see them any time you want.” Mary Margaret says. Killian almost laughs out loud at her naivete, but schools his features. 

See the full post

42 notes • Posted 2021-07-27 02:08:27 GMT

#4

Going Away Means Forgetting (1/?)

I've had this idea floating around in my head for at least a year and a half. And I really wasn't ever going to write it, but then @neverlandnewyear happened, and so did this fic. I'm really hoping it won't be more than 3 chapters, 4 at most.

Thank you to CSNLNY for this event. I've loved reading all the Neverland fic. And thank you to @profdanglaisstuff and @thisonesatellite for being my betas and helping me suss out how moody or hysterical Hook would or wouldn't be.

Summary:

“Pan put a curse on it,” he explained. “Once I left on my missions for him I couldn’t remember anything about the island. Except for the fact that it exists. The closer I get the more I’ll remember. Easier for me to not tell others about the place. Once I’m on the island I’ll remember everything that’s relevant, where Pan’s camp is, the places that he’ll most likely be. Don’t you worry, Swan.”

Rated T

AO3

Emma Swan had been in many situations she never thought she’d find herself in since coming to Storybrooke.  As if finding out her parents were fairy tale characters wasn’t enough of a shock, she’d literally had a trial by fire when she had to fight a dragon. And then she and Mary Mar --her mother -- had fallen through a portal and been literally dropped into the Enchanted Forest. Things had been pretty normal since returning from there, or at least, as normal as Storybrooke considered things normal. What with Captain Hook getting hit by a car, Belle losing her memories, Regina sort of turning back into the Evil Queen because her mother was the Queen of Hearts (Emma had to admit, she really never saw that one coming), and then Emma’s own mother killing her arch enemy’s mother. Emma really thought she’d seen everything. And then reality hit when fucking Tamara shot and killed Neal and kidnapped Henry, through a fucking portal (where were all these beans when Rumplestiltskin needed them to find his son?). And now Emma was on a pirate ship with Captain Hook, Snow White and Prince Charming, the Evil Queen, and Rumplestiltskin heading toward a portal to take them to Neverland.

“What can you tell us about Neverland?” Emma asked as they boarded the ship. She wanted to be as prepared as possible for whatever was coming their way.

“Nothing at the moment I’m afraid.” Hook said as he ran around the ship tying ropes off and doing other various things that Emma had no idea about.

“What do you mean nothing?” she asked incredulously as she watched him do what he needed to the ship (and no she was not watching him for other reasons, she really was interested in him getting the ship ready, at least that’s what she was telling herself). “I thought you spent centuries in Neverland.” 

“Probably too drunk to remember anything.” Regina scoffed, sticking her nose into their conversation. Well, her nose did kind of belong in it, Henry was technically her son too, regardless of Emma’s feelings on the matter.

“Pan put a curse on it,” he explained. “Once I left on my missions for him I couldn’t remember anything about the island. Except for the fact that it exists. The closer I get the more I’ll remember. Easier for me to not tell others about the place. Once I’m on the island I’ll remember everything that’s relevant, where Pan’s camp is, the places that he’ll most likely be. Don’t you worry, Swan.” Hook flashed her a cheeky smile that she really wanted to roll her eyes at, but instead she felt herself give a small, but genuine smile. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and quickly went to speak to Mary Margaret and David. She was going to Neverland to find her son, not to ogle the hot pirate, or flirt with him, or for him to flirt with her. There would be no ogling or flirting of any kind.

What the fuck was her life?

The ship seemed to be sailing at a breakneck speed, far too fast for a ship dependent on wind to make it move. Not to mention how large it was. Hook had said something about it being made of enchanted wood. Emma supposed that’s how it sailed the way it did.

Her stomach dropped when the Jolly Roger dipped into the portal. Emma had been on a few roller coasters in her life, but she was sure this was scarier than any that were out there. Everyone was holding onto the ropes for dear life, but they seemed to stay standing in their places rather than lose gravity when they went through. It was definitely a different feeling than the last time she went through a portal. The water and the light from the portal was swirling all around them like some kind of vortex (it reminded Emma a lot of the opening credits from Doctor Who), and then suddenly, the vortex disappeared and the ship crested onto the water. Everything was quiet, too quiet for Emma’s liking.

“Remember anything yet?” Regina spit out, breaking the silence. They still looked to be a few hours away from the actual island. Emma could see Neverland, a small island rising up from the ocean in the distance. She looked up at Hook on the deck to see what kind of smarmy answer he would lay upon Regina, but he just stared straight ahead. Emma could see his jaw ticking, which usually meant there was something on his mind. She’d been getting better at reading him, but she couldn’t tell what it was this time. It certainly was not the Evil Queen’s line of questioning. Or maybe Regina had struck a nerve; maybe he was remembering something. Maybe it wasn’t anything good.

“Aye,” he said slowly. “We’ll go to the far side of the island, link up with the widest part of the river. Then we’ll sail right through and take Pan by surprise.” Emma had expected his tone to be more sarcastic, but it wasn’t. There seemed to be a lack of punch in his words to her, like he was trying to act normal, but something was pulling him back. Emma wasn’t sure what was coming back into his head now that they were getting closer to Neverland, but Hook seemed to be going through the motions and had lost all semblance of his sassy (yet annoying) personality. Emma turned back to look out at the island looking in the distance. She wanted to go to him. To ask him about it. But then her parents ambushed her.

Emma hadn’t meant to blame them for Henry getting kidnapped and Neal dying. She knew they were just trying to make her feel better, but god dammit, could Mary Margaret ever cool it with the hope speeches. Ever since she’d remembered she was Snow White it was one goddamn hope speech after another. Good always wins. Evil will always be defeated. So maybe that’s why she went off on them. After everything Regina had done to her, Emma couldn’t believe that her mother still thought good would reign. So she let them know. She controlled her voice to the point that she almost didn’t recognize herself talking. She felt the tears stinging her eyes, yet refused to let them fall. Because she couldn’t be weak. She had to be strong for Henry. She had to be strong for her parents. She had to be strong for Hook because the more she glanced over at him, the paler he seemed to be getting.

“We’ll find Henry.” Mary Margaret said sternly. It was supposed to be a promise, but to Emma’s ears it almost sounded like a plea for her to trust them.

And then Rumplestiltskin came out in the most ridiculous looking outfit she’d ever seen, and she could swear she heard Hook whisper something about using the time for a costume change. A line that should have been said in anger and not in the half-whisper that he said it in. She’s sure Rumplestiltskin’s speech should have made her angry because he was spewing on about how she didn’t believe and Neverland was run on belief or some nonsense, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Hook. His eyes kept darting between the course they were on and the island. Something was seriously wrong.

And then Rumplestiltskin disappeared, and while everyone else seemed to be shocked, Emma was just relieved he’d stopped talking so she could talk to Hook and figure out what the hell was going on with him.

“What’s going on with you?” Emma hissed as she made her way up to where Hook was steering the ship. She could see his hand tightly gripping the wheel, even though any other time she’d seen him steer he barely rested his hand on the spokes.

“Nothing.” Hook said, his jaw ticking again. He stared straight ahead. No smirk graced his lips, no mischief danced in his eyes. He seemed devoid of emotion...or masking it.

“Hook.” She placed her hand over the hand gripping the wheel. She changed her voice to something more soothing. Being accusatory wasn’t going to get her anywhere with him.

“It’s nothing, Swan,” he said, this time through clenched teeth, as if it pained him to say it. Emma knew this had nothing to do with her, but for some reason, it felt like a personal attack. Where was the man who flirted with her, the smooth talker, the man who looked so betrayed when she’d left him on the beanstalk? But she still felt offended. Because she had better things to do than tiptoe around Hook’s feelings. She was here for Henry and Henry only.

“Fine!” And she stalked off to below deck. (Not her finest moment.)

He followed her there a few moments later as she decided to work out her anger by doing pull ups.

“I’m getting ready for a fight.” Emma answered him when he asked what she was doing. Ok she could have been nicer, but his lack of communication about what he was remembering was really getting on her nerves.

“Well, I’ve never known you to need to ‘get ready’ for a fight. I thought it was a natural state.” Emma could tell he was trying to crack a joke to get her out of the mood she was in from their last conversation, but again, it had no bite to it. It was as if an emotionless android had taken over Hook and it was beginning to scare her.

See the full post

49 notes • Posted 2021-01-28 23:28:31 GMT

#3

Unmasking the Truth

Here it is! My entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! I'm so excited to show you this! I got this idea for a superhero au back in March after my kids were watching Megamind one day. Obviously, I made it work for Captain Swan.

Thank you to @kmomof4​ for being my beta and my artist. Isn’t this art just amazing? Make sure you give Krystal kudos too.

Emma’s head is killing her and she has no idea why. She vaguely remembers going to the bar with Killian last night, but she doesn’t remember much after that. She usually never drinks enough to give herself a hangover headache like the one she’s sporting right now. What the hell did I drink? She reflexively goes to put her hand to her forehead but she can’t lift it. Well, that certainly gets her attention. 

Her eyes fly open and her head jerks up, sending a jolt of pain throughout her neck and shoulders adding to the pain in her head. She tugs on her hands a few times, determining that they are tied behind her. Her arms already ache so she thinks she’s been in this position for a while. The last thing she remembers was it being around midnight when she’d been at the bar with Killian, her best friend. She quickly takes in her surroundings while also trying to remember what the hell happened last night (god, she hopes Killian is alright). The place is pretty nondescript, with light streaming in from windows far above her head that have dust particles floating through the sunny streams, and several shelving units filled with various items that she can’t identify. She assumes she’s in a warehouse of some kind. The question is, why is she here?

There is no one around, no one waiting for her to wake up, which she finds odd. If you go to all the trouble to kidnap someone, there must be a reason, and usually they can’t wait for their hostage to wake up so they can monologue all about their plans (at least, that’s been her experience in the past). But since no one is around, Emma immediately gets to work twisting her hands to try and loosen the ropes that bind her. Using ropes and not zip ties really should have been her first indication as to who was holding her captive, but she’s so busy looking out for anyone else while trying to get her hands free that she really doesn’t take any time to think about what the ropes give away. And it’s also why, despite the fact that she was attempting to look around for her captor, she fails to hear anyone coming from behind her until his voice is practically in her ear.

“Ah, the princess awakens,” a cool, deep, British voice says from behind her. Emma’s hackles are immediately raised as she recognizes the voice of her arch nemesis.

“Hello, Captain,” she says in a menacing voice.

He saunters in front of her with one eyebrow raised over the top of his mask. She’s always had to give him credit for his villain wardrobe. He has a very authentic pirate costume, what with the black linen shirts that were barely buttoned up showing off his impressive thatch of chest hair, and the beautifully embroidered vests he favored, the leather pants, and of course, his piece de resistance, the leather duster that has to weigh at least 30 pounds if not more (but looks fantastic flowing behind him during their mid-air battles, not that she was looking). He wears a simple black mask over his eyes and a black scarf over the top of his head to hide his hair. He reminds Emma of a more swashbuckling Westley from The Princess Bride.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me?” he says, giving a little bow. Shit! Emma realizes too late that she, Emma Nolan, has never actually met The Captain.

“I’m not stupid,” she snaps, still trying to twist her hands, though more discreetly now that her captor has shown up. “I watch the news. And I work for the paper.” She gives him her best scowl of disapproval.

“Yes, darling,” he says, clapping his hands together in what makes a hollow sound that does not reverberate around the quiet warehouse like she expected it to. Probably due to the black leather gloves he always sports. “The famous Emma Nolan.”

“I’m not famous,” she says quickly, wondering what type of game he’s playing. 

“Emma Nolan,” he repeats. “28-years-old. Abandoned at birth. Went through a series of foster and group homes before finally getting adopted by Mary Margaret and David Nolan at the age of 12. Went to Boston University for a journalism degree, but currently works as a photographer for the Boston Globe, where she’s most ‘famously’ known for taking pictures of the elusive White Swan.” The Captain gives an evil smile right then, as if he’s caught her in the act of something. Emma immediately freezes up as if she too has been caught doing something she shouldn’t. After all, The Captain has no idea that Emma Nolan is the alter ego of the superhero, White Swan, his arch enemy.

He looks at her quizzically while tapping his fingers together in a classic villain pose, the fingers tapping under his chin as if deep in thought. His eyes keep darting about as though he’s looking for someone else. Maybe he thinks by kidnapping her White Swan will come and rescue her? While she does have magic (and the ability to walk on water, and fly, and morph into any outfit she wants) she can’t use it right now without giving herself away. She’s going to have to use her own brute strength to get herself out of this mess. She looks back up at The Captain and he’s still deep in thought, his fingers still tap, tap, tapping. Click, click, clicking.  

Clicking?

She hears the clicking before she registers what it is. In their battles it is always so noisy, it would be impossible to hear the almost insect-like sound she is now hearing. Emma finally realizes it is coming from his hand.

No!

Not from his hand!

It is his hand.

Fuck! It’s so obvious now that he has a mechanical hand in his glove. Put that together with the all too familiar blue eyes, scruffy beard, British accent, and what Emma is sure are dark locks underneath his head scarf, and it all adds up to “Killian?” she wonders aloud.

He tries to ignore her, but Emma can see that slight tension that courses through his body when she says his name.

“Killian!” she says, a little more forcefully now. She’s on the verge of tears because she desperately doesn’t want this to be true. Her kind, sweet, friend couldn’t be this crass, cold, calculating villain.

The minute The Captain turns to look at her, though, all hope of her being mistaken flies out the window as she recognizes the sullen expression she’s seen on his face a million times.

“Emma, I…” but then he suddenly stands up straight, and his expression hardens before The Captain is in full command. A cocky smirk spreads over his face and he slowly starts pulling the fingers off of the glove on his false hand until Emma clearly sees the metal gleaming.

“You always were a smart one, Emma. Too smart for your own good.” He throws the leather gloves to the ground and flexes the metal appendage, the clicking like nails on a chalkboard to Emma’s ears. “Though, not smart enough. Who would ever think that Killian Jones, writer for the Boston Globe, and Emma Nolan’s puppy dog, would also be that dashing rapscallion, The Captain?” He flashes another cocky grin at her.

“Scoundrel is more like it,” she huffs, still trying to take in the fact that her best friend and permanent resident of some of her more naughty dreams is also her arch enemy. “What do you want with me?” she asks sadly and with an edge of fear. Is it possible he’s figured out who she is?

“I want White Swan. I want to hurt her like she’s hurt me,” he says simply while biting his lip. Emma’s heart is beating frantically in her chest. He moves right into her space, his lips practically on hers. How many times has she imagined kissing those lips? “You are basically her exclusive photographer. I want you to tell me her secret identity so I can be done with her once and for all.” Emma’s heart drops in her chest, because this is the one thing she can’t give him. She can’t tell her arch enemy that he has, in fact, captured his prey, only as her secret identity. So she decides to play on her strengths, because even as Emma Nolan, she’s not only a smart cookie, but a tough one as well.

Emma gives The Captain a smile, as if she will tell him what he wants to hear, then she rears her head back and head butts him.

“OW!” He screams holding his nose which is now gushing blood. Emma’s pretty sure she broke it. “What the fuck was that for?” He sounds so much like her Killian at this moment and not like The Captain that she almost hesitates to continue on with her plan. His blue eyes look up at her, the spark she’s used to seeing in them has returned. He’s looking at her like he has no idea what she’s doing there, but she doesn’t have time for The Captain’s theatrics, because she’s almost got her hands free from the ropes.

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59 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 13:00:42 GMT

#2

Exactly Where I Was Meant to Be

Hello everyone! I hope your January is going well. Here is my entry for CS January Joy! This idea originally started as a When Harry Met Sally blind date scenario, with Emma and Kilian's dates falling for each other. And then it turned into a 'What if they were soulmates?' idea. And then I kind of combined it with Liam and Killian on double dates with the wrong women and Killian believing he'd already found his soulmate and that dating was pointless. So I hope you enjoy what this turned out to be.

Thank you to @csjanuaryjoy​ for putting this together again. And thank you to @profdanglaisstuff​ for being my beta once again!

Summary:

It wasn't that Killian wasn't happy about the company he was in -- Liam was his brother, his hero. He’d raised him after their mother had died and their father had left. But then he'd dragged him on this double date because Liam thought he needed to get out more. Killian just didn't understand the need for either of them to date when both their soulmates were gone.

Rated: T

Also on Ao3

"And he says, 'Well so's your arse!" Liam laughed heartily at his own joke while the two women at the table burst out into peals of laughter. The only one not laughing was Killian. And if looks could kill, the other people at the table would be in jail for murder. Killian wasn't throwing a fit, per se, but he was acting like a complete wanker who would barely crack a smile, even if the joke Liam had told was one of his favorites; one he told himself on occasion.

It wasn't that Killian wasn't happy about the company he was in -- Liam was his brother, his hero. He’d raised him after their mother had died and their father had left. But then he'd dragged him on this double date because Liam thought he needed to get out more. Killian just didn't understand the need for either of them to date when both their soulmates were gone.

"It's so nice to hear a good bawdy joke," the brunette -- Bella or Belle, Killian thought -- said. She was supposed to be his date. Her friend, Emma, a dazzling blonde with sparkling green eyes (not that he was noticing them) and a form-fitting red dress, had met Liam through mutual friends and when he'd asked her out, insisted on making it a double date with her friend. Both women had just got out of long-term relationships with men whom they'd thought had been their soulmates, but they'd both been mistaken.

"Robert was too 'civilized' for a good dirty joke," Belle continued, her Australian accent grating on him a little. His soulmate card didn't say anything about an accent.

Of course, the soulmate card didn't say much of anything except a broad generalization about your soulmate.

They appeared on your 21st birthday. A random notecard that gave one fact about your soulmate. Killian's simply said dark hair. How he was supposed to find his soulmate based on that tiny bit of information was beyond him. That's why he was sure he'd already found his. And since she was no longer of this earth, there was no need for him to find someone to pass the time with when they were clearly looking for their true soulmate.

“So, Killian,” Belle started. Killian looked up from his musings and realized that his date was now focused on him and Emma and Liam were deep in a conversation of their own. “What is it you do for a living? I’m a librarian.”

Well, at least she’s intelligent. “Book editor for a small publishing company in town,” he said, giving a tight, concise answer.

“See, brother! You both work with books. Perfect match.” Liam said jovially. Belle blushed a bit at this remark while Killian huffed out a breath. Of course his brother would think that would be enough for a relationship. Sometimes he wondered if Liam knew him at all or was just too interested in getting to know his own date that he was just putting a positive spin on anything either of them said. Killian pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Who’s Milah?” Emma asked, completely cutting off Liam mid-sentence, her eyes now in angry slits. Killian felt his eyes widen at the question and the hairs on the back of his neck prick up. “On your tattoo?” She clarified. Belle had apparently failed to notice the heart tattoo exposed on his forearm until Emma had brought it up and was also looking slightly put out.

Killian quickly pulled the dark blue material down so the tattoo wasn’t so exposed. “Someone from long ago,” he replied darkly.

“Where is she?” Emma continued her line of questioning, making Killian very uncomfortable. And it was also really rude. Who did she think she was asking these kinds of questions? He really hadn’t planned on letting his date and her friend know he thought he’d already met his soulmate.

“Ahh, she’s gone,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous gesture he’d never been able to kick (terrible when he was playing poker).

“Was she your soulmate?” Belle asked tentatively.

Bloody. Hell.

“I believe she was.” Killian replied slowly. Guess it was better to let this Belle lass down now before she wanted more.

“But you never really know.” Emma said, breaking the awkward tension that had permeated the air at their table. That got Killian and Liam’s attention as they both whipped their heads toward her.

“What do you mean?” Killian thought Emma was being mighty brave to suggest that Milah was not his soulmate. Milah who was older (and sometimes wiser), and loved to travel and see the world. Their relationship had only lasted two years before an undetected heart condition had taken her from him. The ring he’d planned on proposing to her with still sat gathering dust in the back of his sock drawer, no matter how many times Liam told him to sell it.

“I mean, they’re so vague, how can you know for sure if someone is your soulmate. It’s not like the notecards give you a name or even something a little more specific to help you find them. I mean, mine says accent, Belle’s just says older, and what does yours say?” Emma challenged him.

He did so like a challenge.

“Dark hair, and Liam’s says blonde.” Killian said, trying to make it sound casual instead of vexed. He knew there was nothing specifically pointing out that Milah had been his soulmate, but he’d felt it, deep down in his, well, he supposed his soul. But then again, Emma was making his heart race in a way that he hadn’t felt since Milah’s death. He kind of liked the way she was so direct and blunt. “And Liam’s already met his soulmate too. His wife died a few years back. So this whole double date is a waste,” he said angrily. He threw his napkin on his plate, got up from his chair, and made his way to the restroom. He needed to breathe and get control of himself.

“What is your bloody problem?” Liam yelled, entering the restroom shortly after Killian had. He sighed. Liam couldn’t let him cool down even for five minutes. The parent part of him always won out and needed to fix the situation at hand. But Killian couldn’t even look at Liam right now, so he spoke to him through the mirror.

“You, Liam. You are my problem. This...date,” He winced at the words, “This whole thing is pointless. We had love, we found our soulmates. Why are you trying to torture yourself?” Killian was so annoyed he could barely think straight.

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62 notes • Posted 2021-01-10 16:39:26 GMT

#1

The Night We Met

Summary:

Ever since Emma and Neal started dating, his roommate, Killian, has always been a jerk. But now that Emma and Neal have broken up, will she see Killian in a different light? Especially when she finds out the truth about why he's always hated her?

Rated M

Also on A03

Happy belated birthday @mariakov81! I have finally finished your birthday fic. I hope you enjoy this college/enemies to lovers/miscommunication au.

Thank you @ultraluckycatnd for being my beta on this one.

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

“Ruby, I’m tired, I really don’t want to go to this party,” Emma whined as Ruby walked through her door.

“Too bad,” Ruby trilled at her. “You promised. You’ve been working like a dog. And besides, maybe you’ll get yourself laid tonight.” She smiled her wolfish grin at her.

“Ruby, I don’t need to get laid. I’m perfectly fine!” Emma huffed and settled herself back down into the couch cushions.

“Emma,” Ruby said, sitting next to her on their overly plush couch. She threw back her red tinged, brown locks, and grabbed Emma’s hands from where she’d had her arms crossed over her chest in indignation. “You have not been with anyone since you and Neal broke up. Not even a one-night stand or a rebound to get over him. I know he hurt you..”

“He fucking cheated on me for half of our three year relationship, Ruby!” Emma said, pulling her hands back and willing the tears that pricked her eyes not to fall. She wasn’t going to get upset about fucking Neal again. “Thank goodness I always insisted on condoms even though I was on birth control. Who knows what kinds of diseases he could’ve picked up.” The memory of finding Neal with another woman in their bed was seared into her memory. The fact that he’d apparently been cheating on her with multiple women over the course of their relationship made her feel like the biggest failure on the planet. But Emma always got left, always, so she really shouldn’t have been too surprised.

“I know what you’re thinking, Emma Swan, and it’s not true. You did not deserve this.” Emma raised her eyes to look at her roommate. How the hell could she always read her mind? “I know you,” Ruby said as if she had, in fact, read her mind. “I’ve known you since we were 15 and Granny took you in off the streets, fed you, and never let you leave.” Emma smiled at the memory. As a 15-year-old foster kid runaway, Emma had tried to take some food from Ruby’s grandmother’s diner dumpsters, but had been caught by Granny herself. Emma had thought she would call the cops on her, as had been her experience, but instead, she called 15-year-old Ruby down from the apartment over the diner and together, they had made what Emma had constituted as a feast (really just grilled cheese, steamed broccoli, onion rings, a hot chocolate with whipped cream, and a piece of cherry pie for dessert). Emma had made to leave as they’d done their good deed for the day, but they insisted on Emma staying in their spare room (and with a stern warning from Granny that if anything were missing in the morning, she would hunt her down). And somehow, Emma had fought the urge to run, and eventually, Granny ended up getting permission to foster her, and she had never left. Now she and Ruby were finishing up their senior year of college and Emma did not need her foster sister to try and convince her to go to some end of the year college house party.

“Look, Neal was a raging douche. I’m just sorry he had to break your heart for you to see it. But it’s been six months, Emma. It’s time to end the wallowing and come out!” Ruby gave her a stern look and Emma knew she was done for. She could never say no to that look, and Ruby knew it.

“Fine!” Emma practically bolted off the couch. “But don’t expect me to have any fun,” she warned as she headed off to her bedroom to change.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ruby said, waving her hand behind her as she went through the door of her own room.

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

Emma sighed a breath of relief as she sat down in the recently vacated spot on the couch. There was a couple making out on the other end of the couch, but as long as they didn’t invade her space, she wasn’t too worried about them. She’d been making the rounds with Ruby for the past hour and the heels that she’d picked out to wear were not being kind to her feet whatsoever.

She had just grabbed her phone out of her wristlet, flicked her blonde hair back behind her, and was just about to check the time when she heard his voice.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she knew more would be coming. “This doesn’t really seem like your scene,” the heavily accented, British voice continued on.

“And what exactly is my scene, Jones?” Emma didn’t even look up from her phone, just opened it up and started to scroll through Instagram so that she didn’t have to actually speak to him. She groaned when she felt the couch dip next to her. She glanced past him to where the couple had been making out just seconds ago, but it seemed as if they’d decided to take their activities to someplace more private.

“Aren’t you usually at bars or at Neal’s place?” Emma wasn’t sure if he was asking a genuine question, or if he just didn’t have a good zinger for her (which was pretty much his thing). But it was obvious from his answer that he didn’t know some important information.

“Neal and I broke up,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant and not like her heart was still breaking six months later. It wasn’t even Neal she was upset about, it was the being lied to and cheated on part that still got her upset. That she had put her heart out there and Neal had essentially stomped all over it, making her feel like that lost girl all over again. She looked over at him expecting to see an ‘I told you so’ smirk on his face, but instead, he looked rather upset.

“I’m sorry, Swan,” he said, a solemn expression washing over his face. “I truly am. I know how happy you two were.” Emma almost burst out laughing. 

“Are you mocking me, Killian?” She wasn’t angry, just confused. “Because I seem to recall you not liking me at all when Neal and I were dating. Considering you were his roommate for most of the time we were together, I rarely ever saw you. And when I did you showed your disdain toward me pretty flagrantly.” Great. Now she was all riled up again. The last thing she needed tonight was to get into an argument with Killian Jones who had been the bane of her existence when she and Neal were together.

The expression on his face morphed from concern to pure anger after her little outburst. “I don’t even know why I try with you, Swan.” He pushed himself up off the couch and started to walk off before he stopped sharply, turned around, and came back over to her.

“I don’t know what I ever did for you to be so combative towards me, but now that you're not with Neal I don’t have to put up with it anymore. Go screw yourself!” Emma watched in shock as he stalked away from her and started up the stairs. The few people who were in the room with her all had looks of disbelief on their faces at the scene that had just transpired. Emma felt her whole body start to flush in embarrassment before she realized that she hadn’t done anything wrong.

Who the fuck does he think he is? she thought, her embarrassment now turning to anger. She and Killian had always had an antagonistic relationship. They had never gotten along. Well, technically, that wasn’t true. She’d actually met him before Neal as they’d had a class together sophomore year, but they’d only made small talk at that point. They’d flirted a bit and she’d thought he’d been interested, but then Neal had asked her out instead and Killian had made it clear that not only had he not been interested (what with the girlfriend Neal told her he had), but that he really didn’t like her at all. Every time she’d go over to their apartment, no matter what she said, he retorted back with some kind of insult or sarcastic comment. It had almost been a relief when he’d moved out a year and a half into her and Neal’s relationship.

“You try with me?” she asked incredulously, running after him up the stairs and trying not to knock over any of the, most likely, drunk people who were congregating there. Killian turned around toward her, his blue eyes flashing angrily at her. He looked like he was going to say something back to her, but then his whole body deflated with a resigned sigh that said ‘Great, I guess we’re doing this.’ And before Emma could even comprehend what was happening, he’d grabbed her arm and pulled her into an empty bedroom right off the stairs, locking the door behind them.

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62 notes • Posted 2021-06-20 14:42:52 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[duskowithapen]

Of Flowers And Tattoo Needles Chapter Three

Read on Fanfiction

Read on AO3

A Resolution

“Don’t you dare tell her, bug!”

Luka wasn’t sure what the hell was going on. Adrien had walked into the tattoo parlour proper, standing toe to toe with his fiancée, having a full argument in front of them. If Adrien is in a relationship with this Kagami, then what was up with the pet names and the forehead kiss?

“Why are you so intent on keeping this a secret?!” Kagami demanded, waving her rapier under the blonde’s nose threateningly.

“I wanted it to be a surprise!”

“You know that I hate surprises!”

“But this is a good surprise, I promise!”

“Adrien, I swear if you got a dragon tattooed onto your chest I will do something drastic!”

“C’mon Kagami, like Marinette would let me get something so obvious-OH-GODS-DON’T-IMPALE-ME—”

Much to Juleka’s displeasure – she was watching the argument with one of her signature ‘ah yes, chaos’ smirks – Marinette intervened before blood could be shed. “Maybe we could all calm down and talk this out like rational, non-violent human beings. I don’t think bloodstains will do anything for my shop’s reputation.” She pressed a hand to her hip and started Adrien down. “Unless you want to keep playing the scaredy cat, chaton?”

Adrien’s mouth dropped open. A hand was held dramatically to his chest. “So cruel m’lady!”

Kagami huffed and lowered her weapon, turning to give Marinette a bow. “My apologies, Mari-hime. I shall eviscerate him outside.”

“Let’s just not eviscerate anyone, hmm?” Marinette sighed.

The pout that appeared on Kagami’s face made Rose giggle, and it seemed to remind the swordswoman that yes, there were other people in the store. In the back corner, while the redhead was intent on his work, the client was watching them. Kagami bowed again. “I did not realise you had other clients, Mari-hime. Was this a bad time?”

Marinette waved a hand towards the couches. “It’s okay, Gami-chan. I was about to get Luka’s tattoo started, but I should probably help my idiot of a best frien before he gets himself killed.” Adrien visibly wilted at the look Marinette gave him. She turned an apologetic smile onto Luka, and he blinked at the full force of those beautiful bluebell eyes focusing completely on him. “Are you okay if I postpone your tattoo for a little bit? I promise this won’t take too long.”

Luka shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. He was really missing his guitar now. “I’m fine with that. You’re not the only one wanting to know about someone’s tattoo,” he directed at Kagami, who hummed questioningly. “My sister and her partner have been pestering me about my tattoo all morning.”

“See!” Adrien burst out, “Keeping your tattoo secret until it’s finished is normal Kagami!”

A loud clap stopped the argument from restarting. “Alright! If everyone could just sit down, we can get this cleared up,” Marinette said in a tone that demanded total obedience. There was a glint in her eyes that suggested great violence on those who did not comply.

Luka was very lucky that he was standing in front of one of the couches in the first place. That tone of voice, that look on her face… he dared any man not to get a bit weak in the knees.

“Sounds like a plan,” Juleka murmured as she brushed past, shooting him an uncomfortably knowing look as she sat by Rose’s side. “Considering that Luka thought you and Adrien were together. Care to explain how he could have come to that conclusion?”

There was a moment of silence. Luka and Marinette’s faces flared up in identical blushes. Adrien’s face reddened slowly as he bit his lip. Kagami’s eyebrows rose past her fringe. In the back corner, the client was still watching like the whole situation was a soap drama.

Then laughter.

Luka’s head snapped up as Kagami of all people started giggling, stern face crinkling into a smile as she tried to smother her amusement behind one fist. Adrien finally took a breath, losing his battle with the laughter he’d been restraining. His tugged his fiancée down onto the other couch with him. “Oh god, really?!”

Marinette dropped into the seat beside Luka, face hidden behind her hands. He leaned in a little. “I feel like I’m missing something?” He said lowly.

A blush still stained her face when Marinette looked up. Despite their closeness, she didn’t shift away. “Just a little, yeah,” she replied hoarsely. “I just feel so stupid. There I was, practically throwing myself at you, and you seemed interested, and then Adrien walks in, and oh god, you must have thought I was some floozy, that I was flirting with you despite having a boyfriend – which we’re not by the way, I swear I’d never cheat on you – I mean, if we were together I wouldn’t cheat – not that I’d cheat on Adrien if we were together, which again, we aren’t – but I wouldn’t have said those things or done anything if I was with someone else, but you didn’t know that, and ugh it’s all just a great big fucking mess –” Marinette stopped with a sudden inhale as Luka pressed a finger to her lips.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” he whispered, ignoring their avid audience. “I admit, I was confused, but I figured I could try and clear it up today anyway. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d made a wrong assumption,” he said with a self-depreciating chuckle, “I’ve never been all that good with people. I find it easier to communicate through my music than anything else.”

Marinette opened her mouth to reply, and Luka had to restrain a shiver at the feeling of soft lips against his guitar calluses. “I really am sorry, Luka. I keep forgetting how mine and Adrien’s… dynamic can be seen by other people.” She paused for a moment, looking away, before continuing, “And I think you communicate pretty well like this. Better than my anxiety-fuelled rambling anyway.”

Luka leaned in a little closer, drawing his finger down her chin and barely brushing her neck before pulling it away. “I thought it was kinda adorable,” he whispered.

Adrien coughed, pulling the two out of their haze. “Uh, I just wanted to apologise, Luka. I’m a very touchy-feely kinda person, and I keep forgetting that not everyone, y’know, hugs and kisses and just generally touch their friends as much as I do. I was… isolated as a kid, and I never really got the concept of personal space.” Now, didn’t that sound concerning?

He waved a hand at the nervous looking blonde. “That’s okay Adrien. I can get a bit touchy too – I shouldn’t have made assumptions. People have thought the same thing about Juleka and I before.” That had made for a very awkward conversation as they explained to the landlady no, they weren’t teenage lovers, but siblings who had decided to move in together.

“It’s all the nicknames,” Juleka said with a smirk, “Wasn’t it your dad you asked if he needed to design two wedding dresses, Adrien?”

Marinette groaned deeply and twisted to bury her face in Luka’s shoulder, hand grasping his jacket just in front of her face. “Don’t remind me,” she said, words half-muffled, “I can’t look Mr Agreste in the eye anymore!”

“Out of curiosity, where did the nicknames come from?” Luka asked, trying to keep a straight face as he wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist, holding her to his side. Based on Juleka’s fake retch, he wasn’t very successful.

It was Adrien’s turn to blush, as he grabbed Kagami’s hand. “Well, like I said, I was an isolated kid. The only kind of unsupervised social interaction I got was when I played Ultimate Mecha Strike online. When I was thirteen, I met a player called Buginette03 – who tuned out to be Marinette – and we got pretty close, despite not sharing our real names. I’d ask Bug for advice when it came to my father, or later on, social stuff, and then she’d ask me for help when her anxiety spiked, or she started catastrophising.”

“And he’d use me as a sounding board for his awful pickup lines,” Marinette cut in, finally pulling her head away from Luka’s arm. It suddenly felt very cold. “You are such a cat-ch is a horrible excuse of both a line and a pun.”

“Hey! It worked with Kagami, didn’t it?”

Both Marinette and Kagami rolled their eyes. “Obviously, she took pity on you, kitty,” the tattooist said, deadpan.

“I found your determination in finding a successful line pitiful enough to be amusing.” Was Kagami’s response.

“Meowch!” Adrien said, insulted. “So cruel, ganging up on a poor cat!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and turned to face Luka properly. “Anyway, after almost a years worth of playing with each other and chatting, we decided to… reveal ourselves, I guess? I was so surprised when I realised that the snarky, goofy LostKittenOnTheCatwalk was actually in my class.”

Adrien slapped Kagami gently when she scoffed at his username. “Hey, I thought it was funny! I was thirteen!” He shook his head for a second. “But yeah, I was both surprised but not when I found out that Marinette was Buginette. Like, once I knew, I wondered how I could have thought it was anyone else.”

“We tried to date for a little bit,” Marinette said, taking up the narrative. “We thought that it was a ‘meant to be’ kind of thing, but it didn’t really work out.”

“We’re partners, but not? We work better as close friends, or siblings, rather than lovers,” Adrien looked at Marinette with a small smile. “I’m just glad that Marinette chose to remain friends with me. Probably not her smartest move,” he said with a shrug, “But oh well.”

Kagami flicked Adrien in the shoulder as Marinette pulled a pencil out nowhere and threw it. “Don’t get started on that again, chaton,” The tattooist said sternly. “We were both young, and stupid, and made you, stupid mistakes that we both learned from. And I will get Kagami to bash that into your thick head if I have to!”

Adrien waggled his eyebrows halfheartedly. “Not wanting to bruise me up yourself, m’lady?”

Marinette’s response was a raised eyebrow and crossed arms. “I think I’ll leave that dubious honour to Kagami. Besides, I already got to stab you.”

“Indeed,” Kagami said with a frown, “I am still waiting for an explanation of your tattoo, Adrien.”

“Well-look-at-the-time-gotta-GO!” Adrien was on his feet in an instant, sprinting out of the store. “See-ya-later-guys-bye!”

Kagami followed suit with a low bow, a murmur on how nice it was to meet them all, and then she was gone, smirk crossing her lips and sword held firmly in one hand. Luka wasn’t sure if he should be worried about Adrien’s safety or not.

His attention was pulled away when Marinette patted his arm. “They’ll be alright,” she soothed, “Kagami’s been stressing out over a fencing competition for a while, so Adrien’s been drawing out the whole ‘no you can’t see what my tattoo is’ thing so that she’ll actually take a break. Pretty sure this is the first time she’s left the dojo for something other than food or sleep for a week.”

“What is Adrien’s tattoo?” Rose asked, leaning forward.

“I’ve still got the concept page, if you’ll just give me a moment…” Marinette jumped up and rifled through her desk, returning with a thick, tattered at the edges sketchbook. She flicked it open to a drawing of a curled up dragon the size of Luka’s palm. It was Chinese style – all long body, short legs, fur crest running down it’s length, flowing whiskers – in various shades of black and red. The crest was a pale shade of yellow, contrasting with the dark gold underbelly. Lighter gold made up the claws and teeth. The eyes were, surprisingly, a rather normal brown. The dragon was curled into a circle, with it’s jaw open. Interestingly, it wasn’t breathing fire, but rather a stream of what appeared to be wind, portrayed in curling lines of grey that created clouds around the dragon. Scattered throughout were tiny gold stars.

“It’s beautiful, Marinette,” Luka breathed, glancing up at the blushing artist. “You’re incredibly skilled.”

Her stammers were covered up by Rose’s squeals. “It’s so detailed Marinette! I take it that the dragon is meant to be Kagami?”

“Ye-yeah. It’s inspired by a story about the dragon of the stars, which was one of Kagami’s favourite when she was little, and Adrien wanted to have it curled up over his heart to show how she both owns his heart and protects it – thus the clouds and kina scary expression.” Marinette traced over the drawing slowly. “Definitely one of my best works.”

“Just one of your best?” Luka asked lowly.

When Marinette looked up, a blush still tinted her cheeks, but there was a determined spark in her eye. “Yeah. There’s this messy haired florist who’s getting my best tattoo at some point, if he still has time to have it done?”

“I’m all yours Marinette.” And oh, how Luka hoped he could make that literal.

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Juleka said with a smirk, grasping a protesting Rose by the shoulders and pushing her towards the door. “I expect progress photo, big brother!”

He just waved a hand in her direction, not taking his eyes off Marinette’s. “Yeah, yeah, I will, you impatient brat.”

When the door shut behind them, Marinette extended one ink-stained hand. “So. Ready to get stabbed?”

Luka took it. “By you? Always.”

A few days later, after tattoos were drawn, inked, admired, wrapped and cared for, Luka appeared outside Charmed Ink. In his hands was a large bouquet of flowers – Pink orchids, larkspur, daffodils, cherry blossoms, blue morning glories and hyacinths. In the very centre was a single lilac.

For love beginning.