#now whether he knows the flirtation is serious or not is another discussion

[qprstobin]

The fact people act like Steve wouldn't notice if a guy/Eddie was flirting with him at all, when part of the hilarity behind the big boy flirtation scene is that Steve CLEARLY knows something about the comment is off lol. That's why he looks so baffled. Steve can be oblivious about other things but come on Casanova over there is going to notice when someone is flirting with him even if it is a guy

[uwingdispatch]

From the Very First Night

From the Very First Night

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: light discussion of past traumas/implied PTSD

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

The day you met Ezra Bridger you laughed when he told you his name. 

“Forgive me,” you told him, “but you’re not the first man on Lothal to try and pick me up while claiming to be the guy in the mural on the wall outside.���

“Well that’s new,” he said. “I tell you my full government name and you think it’s a ruse. Maybe I should have used one of my old aliases.”  

You’d been finishing up some work in what had come to be your favorite caf bar in town, a few blocks from your home on Lothal. And you were thinking about leaving when a man approached with a look in his eyes that, on another day, might have prompted you to pick up your comms and fake an emergency call from a friend.

But now he was reaching for his wallet, pulling out an ID. “You can check my chain code if you want. I didn’t realize I had so many doppelgängers.”  

You quirked an eyebrow. None of the other “Ezras” you’d met had offered ID but, as soon as you saw it, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Okay,” you said. “This is embarrassing. ”

He smiled warmly as he put his wallet away. “To be fair, most of the stuff in town depicts me as a kid, and I didn’t have this handsome beard back then. But I can appreciate a skeptic.”

You put away your datapad, your instincts still split between staying where you were and running out the side door. Surprising yourself, you say, “But I’m not hearing you say that you're not trying to pick me up.”

“Well…maybe. That depends, I guess, on whether you mind if I join you.”

You nodded, and he sat opposite you, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling when he smiled. Up close, you could almost see the teenage boy from the mural. But his hair was longer, dark curls falling soft around his face, and he had a short beard that he did wear quite well.

You wondered if his nerves had caught up with him as he ran a hand through his hair, the late afternoon light coming in through the window catching a streak of silver at his temple.

“Sometimes it feels like I know everyone in this city. Or at least that everyone in this city feels like they know me.” he said. “But you’re new, aren’t you?”

“What gave me away?” you asked.

“Well, I could never forget such a lovely face.” 

“Are you serious right now?”

“I really am.”

There was something sincere about him, despite the flirtations. Something about the way he moved was honest. Welcoming. A server brought him a cup of caf and Ezra exchanged a few words with him in Rodian. 

“So how long have you been in town?” He asked.

“About eight months,” you said. “I just hit this point where I felt like a fresh start might be nice. I don’t usually abandon ship when things get rough, but I thought maybe this one time…I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

He winked. “I used a Jedi mind trick.” 

“Right,” you said, fairly certain he was kidding.

He shrugged. “And somehow you landed on Lothal.”

“I narrowed it down to the places where I’d be able to have my astromech serviced.”

“Must be a special astromech.”

“She’s a therapy droid.”

“Ah,” he said. “There are several mechanics in Capital City who work with that program.”

You were a bit taken aback at how unfazed he was at the mention of your therapy droid—issued by the New Republic. Similar programs had been available to injured veterans before, but the civilian program was newer. And he not only knew about the program, but didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you had a condition that required this kind of aid.

“We had a lot of options,” you said. “But Ceetoo and I decided Lothal seemed nice. So…I’m here.” 

“Glad you are,” he said, both hands cupping his caf mug.

“You just met me and the first thing I did was call you a liar.”

“That’s what I like about you.”

A day would come when you’d realize what he meant then. That when you saw him you weren’t thinking about all the war stories, about the way Lothal had memorialized him when they’d thought he was dead. That he had a chance, at least for a moment, to show someone who he was without the burden of their assumptions and expectations. 

You would also come to realize that from the first time Ezra smiled at you, there was no coming back. He had you, melting like chocolate in the palm of his hand. Because he saw you too, like no one else ever had before.

***

It’s late afternoon when C2-B35 comes in from the garage bleeping about the line at the pharmacy. She’d gone with Ezra to pick up your medication after getting your doctor to call in something new for your joint pain. Ezra could have gone by himself but, because of an incident early in your dating history when there’d been a mix-up, Ceetoo almost always insists on going with him—and he learned a long time ago not to fight a stubborn astromech.

Ezra finds you on the sofa where you’ve been trying to relax, the pain in your back making it hard to even lie still. He knows better by now than to tell you that you’ve been working too hard, that you should take more breaks. He knows to help you up, taking you gently into his arms and kissing your hair. By the time he hands you the tablets, you’re already feeling a bit of relief.

You take the medicine and let out a heavy sigh, resting your head on Ezra’s chest before whispering a thank you. 

“I wish I could heal,” he says.

“We still don’t know if that kind of healing would help me,” you say. “Genetic condition.”

It’s a dance you dance every time you have a flare like this, bad enough that Ceetoo insists on contacting your doctor. 

“I met a kid once who could do it. His dad said he could nullify the effects of a neurotoxin. Close a wound like it had never been there at all.”

“What did the kid say about it?”

“The kid doesn’t talk much. Still working through some things, I think.”

He gets quiet, and from the look in his eyes you know that he’s gone somewhere in his mind lost you can’t follow. It’s been 25 years since he last saw his adoptive father, the man who’d trained him in the Force, and there are some wounds that time never quite heals. Ezra is still working through some things, too.

“Hey,” you say. “Come back to me.”

He smiles, his eyes bright as he gently squeezes your arm. “I’m right here, sunshine.” 

The medication starts to hit, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. You reach for his face, the sharp line of his bearded jaw, the parallel scars on his left cheek. “Just as you are, you’re enough, Ezra. I don’t need a Jedi. I just need you.”

C2-B35 beeps irritably before retiring to her room, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. 

“Thank you, Ceetoo,” you call, with a promise that you’ll have a proper dinner.

“Is it helping?” Ezra asks. “The medicine?”

“It is,” you say. “Finally.”

“Have you really not eaten all day?”

Your face tells him everything. 

“Right,” he says. “Dinner. I could make some quick dumplings? I think I froze some last time to fry later…I’d just have to make the sauce, really.”

He’s up and in the kitchen, pulling jars of spices out of the pantry, and you know he can already taste this comfort dish, and so can you.

So much of his life had been unstable after Ezra’s parents disappeared. He was on his own at such a young age, and then after a few short years in the Rebellion he ended up in exile on Peridea. Now, everything he had felt like a luxury to him: a permanent home, a pair of naughty indoor loth-cats, soft clothes he wore without consideration for armor. He’d told you about learning to cook when he came back to Lothal and, now that he has access to just about any ingredient for any dinner in the galaxy, he has every intention of not only enjoying the luxury of any hot meal he can dream up, but to make sure you enjoy food as well. When Ezra offers to cook, you never say no.

“Ezra?”

“What do you need, love?”

“I need you to kiss me.”

And he does, pulling you up from the sofa, taking your face in his hands as he presses his lips to yours, his neatly trimmed beard soft against your skin. You’re lacing your fingers through his dark curls when he pulls away to look right into your eyes.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you whisper.

And he replies, “I can’t imagine being anywhere else.” 

***

It was night before you left the caf bar and, at this realization, Ezra insisted on walking you home. “Unless you don’t feel comfortable with that,” he’d said. “I would understand. It’s just dark out and…”

And something about being with Ezra just made you feel safe. Even on that first night. You’d never let a strange man walk you home before—it was on its face a bad idea. But you’d stayed out much later than you normally would, and the idea of being alone felt far more unsafe than being with this charming man.

“I don’t normally do things like this,” you told him, the words coming out way too fast, just a block from your building.

“I figured,” he said. “For what it’s worth…I haven’t done anything like this in quite a while.

This did surprise you. “Walked someone home?”

There was a playful tone to his voice when he replied, “Approached a beautiful stranger in a caf bar.” 

“You sure are bold for someone who doesn’t regularly…do whatever this is.”

“I just…” he started and paused, taking a breath. “This is going to sound like a line, but I just felt so drawn to you.”

“In the Force?”

“Maybe.”

“It does sound like a line,” you said. “But somehow I believe you. Jedi mind trick?”

“I’d never actually—”

“I know.”

You were both standing outside your door, a cool evening breeze in the air. You took all of him in—his firm chest beneath the deep v of his tunic, his dark hair catching on the wind, those blue eyes that seemed to see right past all of your walls. You’d met this man just a few hours ago but, beyond all reason, you so wanted to—

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, the words falling from his lips as if he hadn’t considered the consequences.

You nodded and he took a step closer, cupping your face in his hands, his nose brushing yours as he leaned in to press the most delicate kiss to your lips. And you felt his smile just as you felt that joy in yourself—a spark of something unlike anything you’d felt before. Maybe it was the Force, but every inch of your being wanted to be close to this man as you reached for his face, drawing him nearer, slipping a hand into his hair as the kiss deepened.

“I should go,” Ezra said, breathless into your ear.

“Why?” you asked.

“I have an appointment.”

“Really?”

“No.”

“Then stay.”

Nervously you fumbled with your keys, dropping them not once but twice as you tried to open your door, Ezra eventually placing them steadily into your hand, and just the touch of his fingertips against your palm sent a pleasant shiver through you. Quickly you shooed an alarmed Ceetoo away as you entered. Unlike you, her memories included files from the war, and she recognized Ezra as soon as she saw him. Beeped out something along the lines of this one’s mostly trustworthy and I’m going to charge.

“Mostly?” Ezra said, almost in a whisper. “I wonder what she’s heard.”

You bite back a laugh. “I just need you to know I don’t normally do this either.”

“Okay.”

“I could make some tea.”

“Sure.”

But his arms were around you again and you both stumbled toward the sofa, falling into the cushions wrapped in each other like teenagers, wholly unworried about anything else in the galaxy.

That tea didn’t get made for hours. And it was nearly dawn when you retired to your bedroom and Ezra fell asleep on your sofa, your loth-cat sitting at his feet. When you woke, he was gone, a note left on your kitchen counter: Had to work this morning, but I hope you’ll call me. You traced your finger over the comms code left in scratchy handwriting below, wondering for a split second if this could be real. But if you closed your eyes you could still feel the sensation of his fingertips ghosting over your cheek when you’d handed him a blanket the night before. His voice when he’d whispered in your ear, “Sleep well, sunshine.” 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! They really gave us Hot!Ezra in the Ahsoka series and I'm just here to be a gremlin about it. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.) In the meantime, I’m tagging my taglist as well as some folks who have been reblogging my fics. Love y’all!

@writingbylee @waterpancakeao3 @princessxkenobi @zinzinina @aerynwrites @belfry-bat@phoenixhalliwell @r1-sw-lover @laserbrains @darthanakn @lovedbyth3sun @usernamesarebitches @maul-ologue @operation-spot @writeforfandoms @akgracemk @littlemousedroid @strwrs @saveatruckrideoptimusprime @galaxtic-writings @mintpurplemnm @againstacecilia @elasticreality @zombiedixon89 @forresway @sith-as-heck @alistocats @favficss @themandadolorian @ginger-swag-rapunzel @iamsuchanasshat @vvpoisonous @saradika @islandfrogeery @boba-brasso-bee @groguspawbeans @fluffyprettykitty @mischiefqueer @wretchedmo @wyn-n-tonic @dystopicjumpsuit

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - IV

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,800+

Previously on…

As Y/N packed her bags, she was also brainstorming her route once she got to her safe house. She’s just stay there for a couple of nights. Then she’d leave town. Gotham wasn’t safe for her right now. And if she was out of city limits, The Court of Owls had less influence. Though she didn’t doubt they’d send an assassin to the other side of the world to hunt her down.

Y/N looked around her extravagant room.

She doubted she’d ever be back here.

Things were getting…complicated.

It was a cruel reminder for why she kept to herself. People meant drama. Drama meant distractions. And distractions meant she wasn’t focused on the task at hand – which was bringing down the corrupt.

Y/N was just zipping up her duffle when there was a knock on her door.

“Come in!” She turned to see Dick walking in.

He eyed her bag. “What are you doing?”

“I was just about to go pack up my equipment in the cave.”

“No, you’re not. You’re staying here,” he confirmed.

She gave him a repulsed look. “Uhh…No, I am not. This mansion is about to be flooded with unidentified members of The Court.”

“Sure is,” Dick smirked. “But I have a solution.”

He held out his hand to show a bracelet. It looked expensive. The band was gold but there was a giant garnet gemstone at the center of it.

Dick handed it to Y/N.

“You shouldn’t have?” Y/N asked with confusion.

“I called in a favor with an old friend. She’s a magician.”

Y/N tried not to laugh, “A magician?”

Dick gave her a playful glare. “Yeah, a magician. But it’s not tricks and gimmicks. She knows actual magic.” He tapped the gemstone. “When you wear this, you’ll look like a different person. It’s a cloaking spell.”

“Why didn’t you guys suggest this right away?”

Dick sighed. “Bruce isn’t fond of metas and…magic.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to just leave?”

“I would rather have you in disguise with our eyes on you, than have you out of reach,” he explained softly. “When you’re wearing this, all of us will still be able to see the real you. But not anyone else.”

“I don’t want to go to this stupid gala. I’ll just wear this and stay in my room or the cave.”

“Well…that’s the other part,” Dick cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’re gonna be my date.”

Y/N blinked in surprise. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone asked her on any kind of date. Not that Dick even asked. He more so told her.

“That wasn’t exactly a request, Dick.”

“Everyone knows everyone. If you’re by yourself, people will ask too many questions. But if you’re my date, no one will think twice why you’re there.”

“I-I don’t have anything to wear…”

Dick laughed lightly. “Alfred already sent out for a dress and shoes for you.”

“…why do I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman?”

“Come on, Y/N. You know it’s not like that.”

Y/N remained annoyed.

“I’ll be here at your door around 8 tonight, k?” Dick gave her a soft smirk.

“Fine.”

———————

This was just another night for Dick. He’d been dragged to enough of these stupid galas to know the drill: wide smiles, forced laughter, and lay the charm on real thick. With the way this family handled their identities, they could’ve been a family of actors instead of vigilantes.

Dick straightened his cufflinks as he made his way to Y/N’s room.

He could hear the murmur’s of the guest from the ballroom, proving just how many people were attending for the sound to reach him in such a giant manor.

There was a part of Dick that half expected Y/N to be in her usual baggy sweaters and leggings when he opened the door. A silent protest that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s arm candy tonight.

Dick knew he didn’t give her much choice.

When his family had been discussing the situation, Dick tried to off to stay hidden out of sight with Y/N. But Alfred was having none of it. They all knew he took these events rather seriously. Especially one that was started and named after Bruce’s mother.

Dick knocked and turned his back to the door, he double checked there were no guests exploring where they shouldn’t be.

When the door opened, Dick turned around and was stunned to silence.

“Is this bracelet working on you or do I really look that bad?”

Y/N shifted as he stared at her like she’d cast a spell on him.

Dick was seeing Y/N. That was for sure.

“I see the dress fit,” he finally spoke.

What the hell was the matter with him? That’s really what he chose to say?

Though Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the comment. “That it does.”

Dick woke up a bit and cleared his throat. “You look…beautiful.”

He never had a problem charming women. So why is he suddenly talking like a total cave man?

“Don’t look so surprised,” Y/N call him out teasingly. “Just because I dress like a scrub every day doesn’t mean I don’t know how to clean up.”

His brow furrowed at the first comment. “You’ve never looked like a scrub, Y/N.”

OK. OK. He was getting back to his normal self.

“Well…” Y/N broke eye contact from her bashfulness. “Thank you.”

Dick held out the hook of his arm. “Shall we?”

Y/N inhaled, “Right.”

As soon as she hooked her hand onto Dick’s bicep, a wave of relief washed over her. She wasn’t doing this alone; she was doing this with him at her side.

“So, what’s the the plan here?” Y/N asked nervously.

“The plan is to blend in. Don’t talk to any press. And…” He smirked. “It wouldn’t hurt to try and have a good time.”

“Right. I’ll try to do that while I’m in a room possibly filled with people who want me dead…” Y/N sighed.

“Not ‘possibly.’ There will be.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Way to make me feel better, Dick.”

He laughed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be with you the whole time. Damian, Tim, and Bruce will be there, too. And somehow Alfred convinced Jason to even make an appearance. You’re not in this alone, Y/N.”

“Mhmm,” Y/N answered as they arrived to the party. She didn’t bother hiding that she was still extremely nervous and on edge.

“I did really mean it,” Dick told her quietly.

His tone made Y/N tear her eyes away from the party to look at him. “Really mean what?”

“You look beautiful.”

His words didn’t fumble this time. He was confident and clear, leaving no room for doubt or insincerity.

Y/N gave him a shy smile.

“I’m guessing a drink would make this a bit easier, huh?” Dick offered.

“Yes. Yes, it would.”

Dick guided her to the nearest bar.

All the staff knew what the Wayne family looked like. Which meant the bartended skipped over all other guests and b-lined for Dick when he requested a drink, and then looked to Y/N to order what she wanted.

There was loud laughter from a group of people near them. Followed by a voice that Y/N thought she knew, but still sounded a bit off.

When Y/N looked over, she realized it was Bruce talking to a group of guests, who were absolutely fawning over him. He was smiling and laughing, and taking very frequent sips of his drink.

This was Bruce Wayne: the character. Charming playboy, debatable narcissist, and spoiled brat. But in the eyes of Gotham’s elite, he could do no wrong.

Y/N wondered if Bruce had ever considered bringing her as his date. ‘Don’t you start,’ said a voice inside her head.

Dick followed her eye line.

“Doesn’t it make you nauseous watching him like this?” Y/N mumbled.

“Not Dick. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Jason answered.

Dick and Y/N turned to see Jason and Damian.

Yes, Dick adopted Bruce’s charm. But he didn’t rip himself into pieces, building characters that were unrecognizable to the people who actually knew him. Dick’s charm was a part of his personality. His flirtations came naturally. But he only used them on people he intended on building a genuine connection with. (Though Nightwing was guilty of using said charm on targets during missions a few times.)

Y/N looked around for Tim and saw him talking to what appeared to be serious businessman. He was the only one carrying on the legacy at Wayne Enterprises. If any of the boys needed to be here, it was Tim.

“Shouldn’t you guys be making rounds or something?” Y/N asked.

Jason shrugged. “People only cared about us when we were cute kids. Now we’re just spoiled adults who are the product of nepotism.” He smirked down at Damian. “But this one isn’t out of the clear yet.”

“Don’t remind me,” Damian groaned. “At the last one, a woman pinched my cheeks as if I was some toddler.”

“I thought I was about to watch him murder someone,” Dick added.

“I wanted to,” Damian clarified.

Dick started talking to Jason about something.

It provided Y/N the perfect window with the youngest Wayne. 

“I’ll sneak you alcohol if you do a mercy killing for me,” she offered Damian.

The boy looked amused but gave no indication that a deal was made.

“Your date that awful?” Jason teased as he smirked at Dick, who ignored him.

“Do you have the hearing of a dog? Fuckin’ Christ.”

The four of them stuck together for most of the night. Tim would touch base with them every so often. But he kept getting dragged away by board members or partners or anyone that wanted to kiss the ass of the future head of Wayne Enterprises.

Dick and Y/N were laughing at Jason about something when Dick’s face suddenly fell as he spotted something on the other side of the room.

“God damn it, Damian.” Dick hissed as he put his drink down on the nearest counter. He turned to Y/N. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

Y/N just nodded.

But then Jason seemed to spot the youngest brother as well.

“I should probably help him and do some damage control,” Jason sighed.

Y/N laughed and nodded for him to go ahead.

“Now you can see why I avoid these shit shows.”

She laughed but pushed him away, “Go help Dick.”

Now that Y/N was alone, her senses was hyper focused on the party around her.

As she reached for her drink, she noticed that her surrounding area had gone eerily quiet. And she felt far too many eyes on her. There were hushed whispers and even gasps. 

“Would you care to dance?” A voice asked from behind her.

Y/N’s entire body tensed.

She turned to see Bruce waiting patiently for her response.

But the look on his face was that of a man she didn’t know.

Bruce had a charming glitter in his eyes and his smirk was arrogant.

Y/N looked around at their audience, then at the dance floor. She was desperately trying to remember the last time she danced with someone.

“Umm…I don’t really know how–” her words came out so slowly.

“How to dance?” Bruce offered.

Y/N nodded.

“You just need a good partner,” he reassured her as he held out a hand.

‘What a fucking line,’ Y/N thought as she tried not to roll her eyes. She half expected him to add a wink.

Bruce guided her to the center of the dance floor and then pulled her closer with his right hand while his left wrapped around her hand.

Y/N wasn’t expecting him to pull her so close, but their body’s were now pressed together.

Bruce moved his mouth to her ear. “Relax,” he murmured.

“It’s hard to relax when you’re using me to set up your new flavor of the week,” she criticized. “Everyone is watching us.”

Bruce may be used to such scrutiny, but Y/N had zero experience with it. And it was safe to say she hated it.

“They’re not looking at me. They’re looking at you,” Bruce corrected.

“A woman who’s not even me. It’s just the dress.”

“I’m happy you like it, seeing as I picked it out,” he commented smugly.

Y/N’s chest tightened at the revelation.

“I see the real you right now, and that’s who I asked to dance.”

Y/N wanted to make a run for it. She didn’t want Bruce with an audience. She just wanted him to herself and she wanted him as he really was.

But her brain shut down for just this song and she followed her heart.

If Y/N concentrated hard enough, she could ignore all the invasive gawking. If she closed her eyes, it was just her and Bruce. So, Y/N tucked her head into his shoulder and let Bruce glide them across the floor.

Somehow she felt that Bruce was allowing himself this as well.

One song was not enough for what they both needed and wanted.

But Y/N would take what she could.

Though what she did not expect was to finally pull away to see Bruce looking utterly heartbroken. As if pulling away from her was the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. And for the first time, Y/N legitimately considered that Bruce might want the same thing as she did.

He’ll just never act on his feelings.

If Y/N had blinked, she could’ve missed the moment of honesty and vulnerability Bruce had colored all across his face – bleeding from his eyes.

Because, the next moment, the character was back.

As the party clapped for the band, someone called Bruce’s name. And their locked stare was broken.

And just like that, Y/N was snapped back to reality as if someone threw a bucket of freezing water over her.

Now that Bruce had moved on, no one bothered to keep their voices down. And the upperclass women of Gotham made it loud and clear that they were not pleased with Y/N’s presence.

“Seems he’s found his next prey.”

“She looks half his age, of course he would go for her. Typical man.”

“She’ll eventually learn like we all did.”

“I still say he was the best lay I ever had.”

“Remember when we both slept with him in the same week?”

Now Y/N wasn’t just brought back to reality – she was put in her place.

Before she could even realize what was happening to stop it, her eyes were filled with tears. She had to get out of there.

“Excuse me,” Y/N whispered desperately and she tried to push her way through the crowd.

As soon as she made it outside, she let out a gasp. The fresh air helped, but it wasn’t enough.

There wasn’t any guests outside, but Y/N didn’t feel a safe enough distance from the party. The gardens and maze were in her peripheral and it took her all of two seconds to decide that would be her safe haven.

She hurried through the maze and prayed that no drunken couples had tried to also sneak away from prying eyes. 

But when Y/N reached the center of the maze, she was alone.

A fountain sat in the middle and the sound of its moving water calmed Y/N down a bit. But even that couldn’t stop her tears from finally escaping.

Y/N sat on the edge of the fountain as she tried to get a hold of herself. She could only imagine what this was doing her makeup that she spent an hour doing. 

‘What a waste,’ she thought.

Her escape was short lived. 

Dick called her name repeatedly from a distance.

Y/N panicked at the idea of him catching her crying. She quickly tried to hide any evidence of tears and pull herself together.

Dick finally caught up and let out a sigh of relief from behind her.

“Y/N, you can’t run off like that,” he tried to tell her.

He opened his mouth to lecture her further, but when he finally made it around the fountain and was facing her, his concern shifted. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Nothing,” Y/N struggled to speak without sounding nasally. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You were crying.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to laugh. “Seriously, Dick.”

But he wasn’t having any of it. He moved to sit next to her on the edge of the fountain. Without hesitating, he wrapped an around her shoulder and pulled her into him.

“Come here,” he muttered softly.

Why did it feel so natural for him to do that? Like he’d done it a million times before?

He rubbed her arms. “Jesus. You’re freezing.”

Then he was taking off his suit jacket and putting it over her shoulders. But he didn’t miss a beat, quickly bringing her back into his arms again.

“Wanna tell me what’s got you so upset?” Dick asked after a few minutes of silently comforting her.

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to me if it made you cry.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath, feeling like she was on the cusp of crying again. “I’m just like the rest of them.”

Dick waited, feeling like she needed to say more before he spoke.

“They were whispering terrible things. But it was everything I already knew. I’m just another stupid girl that managed to convince herself that she was different.”

Dick was silent as he processed his words. It wasn’t hard for him to know Y/N was talking about Bruce, even thought she never uttered his name. 

“I’ve got an idea,” Dick announced. “Let’s ditch this stupid gala. Get out of these clothes. Put on some sweatpants. And I’ll have Alfred order us as much pizza and wings as you want.”

Now Y/N wanted to cry for a completely different reason.

Dick was the sweetest man she’d ever met.

“Sound like a plan?” He asked her when she didn’t respond and instead just stared into his blue eyes.

Y/N nodded.

“We can even invite my good-for-nothing brothers if that’ll make you happy.”

Her first instinct was to say yes. They all amused her beyond belief. Watching the way they all interacted with each other was like watching a reality show. And it was always obvious how much they loved each other deep down – even with Damian, who would rather die than admit such a thing.

But if all of them were included, who knew when Bruce would eventually make an appearance. And Y/N just didn’t think she could be in a room with him again tonight. 

“Just you and me,” she clarified.

That seemed to please Dick and he nodded. 

“Just you and me,” he confirmed as he offered her a hand up. 

When they started walking back to the manor, Dick wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side.

“I’m going to ask you a question and I need you to be completely honest with me,” but she said it through a smile.  

Dick looked a bit nervous, but nodded. “Alright.”

“Do you know how to order takeout on your own?”

Dick threw his head back and laughed. “How dare you!”

He pinched her waist, making her yelp. But he didn’t let her escape his hold. “Yes, I do. In fact, when I’m at my own place, I live off takeout. And let me tell you, no one can order food quite like I can. Thank you very much.”  

Once they reached the second floor of the manor, the two of them parted ways to changed out of their fancy clothes.

Y/N washed her face, scrubbing the layers of makeup off. But before she could rid herself of the evidence, she noticed the smeared mascara and eyeliner. 

Words could not describe the relief of putting on baggy sweatpants and a hoodie and fluffy socks after wearing a fitted gown and high heels.

30 minutes later, just as promised, Dick was bringing up a huge pizza and a box of wings to Y/N’s bedroom.

They ate on the floor. Dick managed to light the fireplace that was in there, because Y/N didn’t know what to do with the thing. The television was on, but neither of them were watching it. It was simply white noise.

Two hours later, Y/N was laughing so hard at a story Dick was telling her that she had tears in her eyes and her stomach hurt.

“I don’t believe you!”

“I’m not kidding. Ask Jason. He took my clothes and I was ass naked, running through the streets of Gotham. I wanted to kill him.”

Y/N grabbed another wing and got sauce all over her face.

“What?” She asked when Dick was watching her with adoration. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

He tried to hide his smile. “Nope.”

She knew he was lying and then purposely smeared more sauce around her lips. “How about now? Do I have anything now?”

“No. Nothing.”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive am I right now?” Y/N laughed as she wiped the sauce off her face with napkins.

“11,” Dick responded without hesitating.

The playfulness was sucked out of the room when they both heard how serious his tone was.

Y/N’s face went somber as she looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t dance with you.” She laughed lightly, “I’m a lousy date, huh?”

“That’s not true,” he immediately shot down. “This is the most fun I’ve had…” His words died out when he realized he couldn’t even remember. “Well, it’s the most fun I’ve had in awhile.”

“Me too,” she replied with a quiet sweetness.

Through her full-body laughter, she had moved closer to Dick without realizing it.

He glanced at her lips. He just couldn’t help himself. 

The thing about Dick wearing his heart on his sleeve was that it was nearly impossible for him to hide his feelings, his desires. It was all in those blue eyes of his, waiting to easily be read by someone.  

And while Y/N looked at him looking at her, she felt beautiful. Because that was all Dick could possibly think as he stared at her.

Neither knew who leaned in first. Perhaps this was their dance that they weren’t able to have earlier.

But they made up for it by sharing an impassioned kiss now. 

Dick’s lips were softer than Y/N expected. His hands gripped her waist possessively, making it very clear what he wanted – but still being ever so gentle and soft with his touches.

One of Dick’s hands moved from her waist up her back to tangle his fingers in her hair. He tugged on the strands and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

They both could slightly taste the pizza and wings on each other’s lips, but neither of them cared at all.

The kiss didn’t last long enough for either of their liking.

But Y/N pulled away anyways, gasping for air a bit.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. 

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he whispered through hooded eyes as he brushed some hair away from her face. “I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile,” he added with a smirk.

But Y/N wasn’t really sorry about the kiss. 

She was sorry because she knew that things were far more complicated than ever.

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

Part V

Happy Valentine’s Day!!! 

Please, please, please write me a book report of what he thought of this chapter. It will be your VDay gift to me 😘

[bartramcat]

CSI/GSR: Long vs. Short Term Arcs

Okay, this is very off the cuff and inspired to some degree by @addictedtostorytelling and the discussion of Morgan and Greg and Hodges. Some stray things:

We know that the only thing decided about Sara Sidle pre-show was that she was meant to be Grissom's love interest.

At some point, before CSI continued to be a ratings juggernaut that Zuiker figured Grissom would go deaf, and that would be how the show would end.

When Grissom turned Sara down in Play With Fire, TPTB had decided that was going to be the end of that.

Things no one could have predicted:

The overwhelming worldwide success of the show, necessitating a workable resolution to Grissom's deaf storyline.

That no matter what, whenever Grissom and Sara are onscreen together, there is "something" there.

Billy and Jorja both were invested in GSR.

It seems to me the combination of the above is what gave us Season 4. In terms of GSR, a case could be made that they were starting all over again in a serialized novel sort of way.

Now I confess to knowing absolutely nothing about the Harry Potter novels, but, in my youth, thanks to Masterpiece Theatre, I did read all of The Forsyte Saga and Trollope's Palliser novels. What serialized novels have in common is that, for the most part, each novel stands on its own, but the author feels the need to continue to explore aspects of his characters beyond the original scope of the original novel.

In that regard, I suppose we could see 1-3 as a kind of GSR entity on its own. Grissom gets promoted and brings the girl he loves to Vegas, only to discover he can't have both the job and the girl. Beginning in 2, Grissom has two simultaneous arcs: the fear of going deaf and his unresolved feelings for Sara, with the first further compounding the complications associated with the second. What he doesn't discover until season 3 is that his "push me/pull me" relationship with Sara drives her to another man, a fact which utterly devastates him to an extent he could never have imagined.

Still, it is the deaf arc that is of more overriding concern: if he can't hear, he not only loses his job but also his entire sense of self at that point in time. Resolving his feelings for Sara will have to be backburnered, so he decides not to punish her for getting a life, as, at that point, he has no life to offer her, since he's not even sure what his life will be.

Meanwhile, back in Saraland, she discovers Hank is a dog and ends the relationship. If GSR were bad soap opera, the fact that Sara was seeing Hank would have been seen as a primary impediment. The thing is it never was. To me it's just one more nail in the Sara low self-esteem coffin. Also, if it were soap, the lab explosion and Grissom's unconscious revelation of his feelings for her would have led to some kind of positive resolution. The problem is that Grissom's deaf arc is still in play, not to mention all of his other relationship with Sara fears.

Sara misreads the situation; she thinks, finally, he might be ready to take the plunge, but she's completely wrong. By bringing their relationship to an either/or position, she basically pushes him into outright rejecting her, thus ending this phase of their arc. Ironically, Grissom's deaf arc gets resolved in the very next episode, but, by then, he really thinks it is "too late."

The thing about 4, besides it being incredibly hard to watch Sara descend into the abyss, is that, for the first time, the show makes it unequivocally clear that Grissom is both sexually attracted to Sara and in love with her. (The first doesn't always imply the second, although we learn later, for Grissom, it does.)

While Homebodies explores Grissom's fears that he won't ever be able to keep his loved one (Sara) safe--perhaps foreshadowing--Invisible Evidence certainly spells it out that his attraction to her is as physical as it is intellectual and emotional. I doubt anyone could watch those "pin me down" seconds out of context and not think that was a man who was about to fuck the shit out of her. (Of course in context it can't happen, but the desire is certainly there.)

Overall, however, outside of that, Grissom goes out of his way to distance himself from Sara: that "too late" thing again. Then the show throws Butterflied at us (and him), wherein it is made abundantly clear he is in love with her and regrets turning her down. What he doesn't know is that she hears everything he says, which twists the knife. She wasn't wrong: he does have feelings for her, only those feelings aren't strong enough for him to risk it, to take a chance on love.

So what we have for the rest of 4 is Grissom continuing to distance himself from Sara under the misguided belief that he has killed any feelings she had for him, while she continues to sink into depression and alcohol dependence. Given his distancing, he seems unaware that something isn't right with her until late in the season, and then it hits him between the eyes and in the gut in Bloodlines.

In a weird way, 4-6 is the inverse of 1-3. If Season 1 begins with a lot of light-hearted flirtation (and off the charts sexual chemistry) and ends with a seemingly insurmountable rift between them, 4-6 begins with the rift and works its way to their becoming an actual committed couple in a seemingly stable relationship. Of course the frustrating part is that the show neglected to tell us when, where, and how, although it's pretty evident that, for Grissom, Bloodlines is the catalyst for him to try to rebuild their relationship. I do not think he did so thinking the end result would be a "beautiful life" with Sara. More than likely, the best he hoped for was for them to be friends again.

As an aside, in the middle of 1-3, we have Cassie James, Grissom's personal Cassandra, telling him "You don't know what you need until you find it." While Grissom's "need" for Sara is couched purely in work terms throughout 3, season 4 into 5 shows a man who has seemingly come to terms with the fact that he both loves and needs her. The first half of 5 shows him far more in tune with her, and they begin to be comfortable together again. While I think he is perhaps at a place where he might occasionally daydream about the possibility that someday they might be together, I also suspect he thinks that ship has sailed.

And that is why he is completely floored in Snakes. Seemingly out of nowhere, she more or less tells him she's still in love with him, although, unlike in Play With Fire, she has no expectations that he can ever reciprocate her feelings. She, too, thinks that ship has sailed, but, now, she is reconciled to that fact.

I suppose the question for me has always been whether or not he goes to her in Nesting Dolls and tells her that it matters to him, not as her boss but as a man, why she's so angry, if Snakes doesn't happen. A large part of a believable narrative is that one thing must naturally lead to another. As a narrative arc, from 4 to mid-5, we get the following:

Invisible Evidence makes it clear that these two people are still sexually attracted to one another, even though neither one would consider acting on it at this point.

Butterflied confirms Grissom is in love with Sara and regrets turning her down.

Early Rollout tells us Sara may have a serious drinking problem.

Bloodlines is Sara at her lowest point, having been pulled over for a DUI, which signals to Grissom just how miserable she is.

In early 5, they begin to rebuild their camaraderie, with Grissom occasionally kind of sort of flirting with her, in his fashion.

Snakes confirms that, despite everything, she's still in love with him.

After her meltdown in Nesting Dolls, Grissom goes to her and coaxes her to tell him her deepest secrets, after which he comforts her, although what transpires between them after he takes her hand, like so many things GSR, is left vague.

It's always been curious to me that after their conversation in Unbearable that the curtain is drawn on exactly what the nature of their relationship is. I have always read, from Big Middle on, that they act like a couple, albeit a couple in the workplace. We get very little entree into their private interactions, so when and how they became lovers is open to individual interpretation. It isn't until the final scene of 6 that the show bothers to tell us they are lovers, and, judging by their interactions in Way to Go, have been a couple for some time.

I don't know about anyone else, but I think they seem married in that scene: completely comfortable with each other in a way that more or less screams that scenes like the one we are finally privy to have been occurring for a while.

In any event, 4-6 is a pretty remarkable journey in GSR land, as the two characters move from barely being able to speak to one another into a full-fledged love affair.

The amazing thing to me is that both the 1-3 and the 4-6 segments follow a logical progression, with each small insight or revelation explaining both choice and behavior--and leading into the next arc in their relationship.

It really is good stuff.

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut (coming in ch3!) - college!au

wordcount ~ 2.3k

warnings ~ pretty much n/a, mentions of drinking and light smut

a/n ~ v excited for these lil dorks! i thought about combining this with the upcoming chapter but it felt right on its own and i wanted to go ahead and post an update for yall haha. ch 3 will most definitely have some serious smut to look forward to 👀 thank yall for reading, i love and appreciate any form of support or feedback so so much, so feel free to msg me or send me an ask abt whatever you want! 🥰 hope u enjoy this chapter!!!

previous: chapter 1 ~ next: chapter 3 | chapter 4 (coming soon!)

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 2 ~ cowboy bebop & chill

You couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. Every time you brought the enamel of your favorite mug to your lips, teeth knocking the rim as you exhaled to cool off your tea, it called back the click of his earrings in your mouth. Whenever you reached behind your ear to tuck away the hair you'd impulsively cropped to your chin this year, it hit the same spot you'd sucked into a bruise on his neck and you shivered. Even your slight headache thanks to the shitty vodka from the pregame reminded you of the wine you'd sought out from him in the first place and never fucking got to drink. 

You found yourself reading over your responses to each other's discussion posts from your film class, trying to find any more justification for this sudden crush than the drunken flirtation that mortified you as soon as you remembered it sober. He did seem to like your directness...but you could easily ascribe that to his similarly loosened-up state. Scanning through your reflections on The Shawshank Redemption and Casablanca, you painstakingly overanalyzed every smiley face and "I loved that part too!" Could he have been into you at all before this? Or had he just eyed you for another quick fuck at a party? Shit, what if he hated you for working him up and then leaving? If he wanted to, you knew he would have easily found someone else to finish the night with. But what if he still held it against you? The image of him bitterly turning aside to find another girl in the crowd, with your hickey still fresh on his jaw, turned your stomach more than you wanted to admit.

Shaking your head with a grounding exhale, you reminded yourself that whoever else he did or didn't hook up with was none of your business. Plus, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy and probably didn't hate you in the first place. Wow, the bar really was so fucking low. Maybe that was part of the reason you were never that bold with boys. Every classmate you'd fallen for so far at college had remained innocently unaware of your feelings, likely because you never worked up the courage to clearly express them. You hadn't even been trying this time, though—this semester had been so busy you'd barely had time for your friends, much less crushes. And now your one blowoff class had become your biggest distraction.

Jungkook, a communications & media major, couldn't afford to lose as much focus in this class as you. Normally near front-and-center, he sat all the way in the corner of the last row, wary of imaginary stares burning through the hopefully-opaque-enough curtain of his hair. Even the risk of zoning out staring at the back of your head stressed him out less than the thought of you doing the same to him.

You walked into class through the back right entrance today so you'd pass Jungkook in the front row, though you could have gone straight to your usual left-side seat from the main door. Knowing you'd never summon the courage to talk to him, you still couldn't help wanting to see his face. You didn't know just what you were looking for—some kind of confirmation or dismissal that would let you just move on with your dry-ass life—but any reason to catch a glimpse of Jungkook was a good one. Today, though, he sat far closer to the entrance than you'd expected, and his proximity stopped you in your tracks a few feet behind him. Eyes dragging down the sculpted form under his soft black sweatsuit, your stare traced the veins in his forearms to reach the hands in his lap. Catching a half-page cartoon ass in your view of the manga he gazed at intently, a snort-laugh escaped you, the sound setting him on high alert. He snapped the book shut, spinning around with eyes wide and still-long hair an understandable mess for a Monday.

"I'm so��"

"I'm so sorry!"

You both shoved out the words at the same time.

A pause swelled between you, eye contact maintained as your mouths fluttered open and shut like fish. Even awkward and off-guard like this, he was just so damn pretty. It felt unreasonable for him to seem as flustered around you as you were around him. Finally, you spoke again, solely to force the conversation forward and put you both out of your misery.

"W-what do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who, like—ugh, I was drunk, I'm so sorry, I never would have been so, yknow, if I was sober, like that's not me I promise, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or—"

"No-no-no-no-no!" Jungkook cut you off, dismissing your barely intelligible apology. Before you could cut him off in return and continue, he held up both hands between you, his eyebrows knit together in a pleading expression. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, I feel so bad, I was kind of drunk too, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable! Please, you have nothing to worry about, it was, uh...I was...good...if...you were." He grew shyer as he continued, drifting off as a hand reached back to rub his neck. A light laugh. "You did make me have to keep my hair long for another few days, though. It's gotten so annoying to take care of, I was planning on cutting it right after the costume."

This admission perked up all your earlier curiosities about him, and a cautious smile spread over your face as Jungkook unconsciously reminded you that he was, in fact, a total dork, rather than the fuckboy you'd irrationally feared him to be.

"Wait, hold up," you snorted again. Gently. "You're telling me you grew out your hair for three, maybe four, months...for a Cowboy Bebop costume?"

"Hey, it was free and way less lame than a wig," he defended himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fidgeted uncomfortably, face blushing into a grin as you continued to giggle at him.

"You are such a fucking weeb," you accused lightheartedly.

Jungkook furrowed his brows back together, an anxious hand grazing the spot where you'd marked him again. "Well, you recognized my Spike costume, at least," he pouted. "You're not all innocent."

"I watched one episode with my friend, and it was dubbed," you downplayed. "Isn't watching dubs instead of subs a crime for real anime fans?"

"Actually," his eyes lit up at your rhetorical question. "The dub of Cowboy Bebop is excellent. It's pretty universally considered better than watching the OG with subs. You're right though, that is the general rule."

"Oh man, who knew." Looking down, grinning, you tried to hide how endeared you were by his earnestness. "Well, it was pretty cool, not gonna lie. I guess I kind of get the appeal."

"Would you want to start watching the rest sometime? That's one I just never get tired of," he blurted, then blushed, closing his mouth and working his lips between his teeth as his eyes stayed wide and on you. Jungkook's heart accelerated in his chest, a fist opening and closing at his hip as he tried to decide whether he regretted taking a chance on the question.

You instantly diverted all your mental energy from hoping he couldn't sense your attraction to massively overthinking your response. This was a "Netflix and chill" kind of invite, right? If he wanted you, of course you wanted him, but you had to be sure before you did something else stupid and risked having to find another discussion board buddy.

"Um...yeah, sure," you accepted. "I have to ask, though, do you mean, like...Cowboy Bebop and chill?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to look bolder than you felt. "Or...Cowboy Bebop and just...Cowboy Bebop?"

"I..." Mirroring your playful grin, Jungkook shrugged, not wanting to look like a fuckboy if he answered with the first option but also wondering—were you actually interested in watching this anime with him? The possibility puzzled him, the same way it confused you how he could go bold and then back to his shy weeb-ass self within seconds. You shrugged too, with an anxious exhale of a laugh.

"That was...weird to just say like that, sorry. We can just see where it goes, whatever you want," you backtracked, full of faux-nonchalance. The Google Calendar schedule on your phone suddenly became very interesting. "We could do another day if that works for you, but I'm free after this class once I write my discussion post—I don't have any other homework or meetings today for once."

He nodded quickly, eyebrows up. Swallowing, Jungkook saw the opportunity to show a little more initiative and seized it. "We could do that together even, 'cause we usually jump off each other anyway. So you can come over right after class if you want." He glanced up and to the left for a quick mental inventory. "Oh shit, wait, but I seriously need to clean my apartment first, can we do more like dinner time tonight? You can just come over for ramen or takeout if you want, or eat first or whatever."

"Yeah, that's fine!" you agreed warmly. "Ramen and homework, two birds with one scone. I should probably, like...get your number? So you can send me your address when you're ready or something?" You didn't want to sound too desperate, especially since you knew he was used to it, but you found yourself weirdly excited to experience something he so obviously loved. If you got dicked down too, even better, but you were definitely willing to wait on that part, especially now that this first sober conversation had restored your inhibitions. He had this slightly shy sweetness about him that just made you want to make him happy somehow. You wanted to see more of his cheesy little smile. You wanted to hear the bright laugh that occasionally rang out at the most inappropriate times, during Citizen Kane or attendance. You wanted to watch his light pink lips fall open in bliss as you kissed down his sensitive neck to the trim of his worn-in hoodie...

"Yeah sure, here." The quick touch of his hand over yours snapped you out of your thoughts as he took your phone, ready to type in his number, and—

"Wait, did you say 'two birds with one scone'? Not 'one stone'?"

You blushed furiously. Somehow him calling you out on your quirks embarrassed you more than the indecent daydream he'd interrupted. "Okay, so I saw this tweet a while back where they said 'feed two birds with one scone' to replace 'kill two birds with one stone,' I think it was just some vegan troll being all like 'don't talk about killing birds!' but it stuck with me because I just really fucking love scones."

"You...really fucking love scones?" he repeated in slight sarcasm, eyes down on your phone. You grew even shyer, but continued.

"Yeah, I bake a lot and they're my favorite thing to make. The flavor possibilities are endless and they last for days so I just keep them on hand for breakfast and snacks and to give out to friends. And they go with tea, which is my other favorite thing." Ooh, was he a tea person? Should you bring some tonight? Something earthy, to go with your ramen. Your go-to green sencha, or maybe chrysanthemum? Chamomile?

Jungkook held your phone back out in front of you, but waited silently for you to notice, enjoying the view of wheels turning in your head as you pondered tea pairings. This was the you he was used to, daydreaming in class and going on tangents as dorky as his in discussions. Even from a distance, he'd noticed you consistently gave off a vibe somewhere between absentminded professor and grandma, and this confirmation made you even cuter to him. But the hair still falling over his ears wouldn't let him forget his new physical proof of another side to you.

You finally collected your phone with a mumbly "Oh right, yeah, cool, thanks," that you prayed sounded more chill to him than it did to you.

"I just texted myself, so I have your number too now, and I'll just send you my address when I'm ready, and, uh...yeah!" he rambled a bit in response.

You nodded, confirming. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Yeah, see you tonight."

Jungkook watched you walk to your desk, silently admiring your ass and allowing himself only a moment to savor the memory of half of it filling his hand. A strange nervousness tingled through him. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you all weekend either, and now he had a chance to get closer to you than ever before. He hoped, more than he could remember hoping for anything else, that this would go well, one way or another. He had no idea what you wanted with him, but you had him questioning everything he'd thought he wanted. Easing open his laptop, he pulled up your last discussion board response to him, signed off with a smiley face but backwards.

I like the way you think. (:

He turned his head to read it right-side-up, letting his face scrunch into a smile you wouldn't see.

Meanwhile, though the film thrilled you, you struggled to stay facing forward for the duration of class. You suspected the plot of Rear Window was simply unsettling you, but you swore you could feel Jungkook's eyes on your back. No, he was probably actually watching the movie as usual, or reading his manga if not. You were definitely just being paranoid. Definitely. Probably. Right?

next chapter 

[doof-doofblog]

"You'll Be Joining Ben In Prison!"

Tuesday 6th October 2020

Good evening everyone! I hope you've had a good Tuesday! After the big bombshell that ended last night's episode, I am so excited to see what tonight's episode has in store! I'm just going to start right away, the episode starts right where last night's ended! Frankie has just told Mick that she believes he's her Dad. I understand Mick is completely in shock, he doesn't seem to believe the poor girl, even insults her by saying he thinks she's ill! It's only when she mentions a name - Katy Lewis - that Mick realises she could be telling the truth. You can see he instantly recognises the name as soon as she says it, was it even before him and Linda got together?! Who knows, but I am really looking forward to finding out more about this!

At the police station, Callum has been called in, he is currently missing Lexi's dance grading. What could be so important that he had to be called in? I'm a little bit shocked that his boss is wanting to him to wear a wire, whilst living in the Mitchell household! After seeing Callum going behind Ben's back recently, I feel like he really isn't wanting to do this! He recognises that it's wrong, he's having doubts! But I do fear he'll be persuaded to wear it, believing he's doing the right thing, which he really REALLY isn't!!! I do feel really gutted as Callum starts to unbutton his shirt - does he feel he doesn't have a choice? Has he got himself in too deep now? I am really hoping that Ben will find out before it's too late, I can just see this going horribly wrong for Callum, in many many ways.

Back with Mick, he is still reeling from Frankie's news - as he stumbles along the street, to me it looks as if he wobbles into the fence, it looks as if he's about to have another panic attack! It's been a long time since he's had a serious panic attack, it's understandable that news such as big as finding out he could have another child would bring it on. As Frankie catches up with him, she begs him not to ignore her, at least hear her out and discuss it. Mick sees Max from across the Square and asks him to take the young lad home ... why do I sense that Max only agrees to take him as he knows Linda will be back at the house alone? That will obviously give them a chance to talk about recent events. As Max walks away with the little boy in tow, Mick agrees to talk with Frankie.

At the Atkins household, Gray returns from his meeting to find his house completely a mess! Pizza crusts laid all over the dining room table. He calls out to Whitney and asks her what happened whilst he was away, she explains to him that the poor kids hadn't eaten all day, so when she decided to treat them to a takeaway, the children got upset for having the wrong food. Gray apologises and Whitey tells him not to worry and not to take it out on his kids. Whitney explains to him that grief comes out in all sorts of different ways, the children are clearly missing their Mum and there's probably no way for them to tell anyone or show how they're feeling.

As Linda is busy working away, making herself and Mick a romantic meal, the buzzer of her flat goes, assuming it's her husband, she immediately lets them in. When Ollie comes running up the stairs, Max follows. Linda is clearly surprised to see him with her son, Max explains to her that Mick and Frankie have gone to the Prince Albert. Trying to be the good Samaritan, Max offers to help Linda with her cooking while she sees to Ollie. Did I sense a little bit of flirtation going on? When Linda says the words "No-one likes a show-off!" - I don't know, something is telling me that they do seem to like each other's company, it looks like there could be some attraction there. Whilst Max and Linda are at at the Carter's apartment, Mick is finally having his talk with Frankie. She reveals everything to him, how she found all his letters he wrote to her Mum and how she was always told that her Father had just walked out on her, but she came to realise it was the other way round. As Frankie is revealing everything to him, we see him grip his chair a lot tighter, is he on the verge of having another panic attack? It looks as if he's struggling to take in everything she's saying, but he seems to recall, and realises that what she is saying all makes sense, as he softly says "So that's why she left!"

Finally Callum arrives home, obviously we all know that he's now wearing a bloody wire underneath his clothing! We see Phil approach him as he comes down the stairs, he had previously asked Callum to try and find information on Raymond's adoptive family, whether they had anything on file. Callum admits that the family was clean, had no run-ins with the police, not even a speeding ticket. Phil thanks Callum for checking, as Phil is getting himself ready, Callum attempts to make small talk with him. Part of me is thinking that Phil isn't stupid, Phil will eventually get suspicious as to why he's asking about Danny all of a sudden, he pulls a look of suspicion straight away, but Callum quickly makes up the story that he'll be able to help if ever needed anyone else to work with. Hmm - I think this is going to go one of two ways - either Callum won't be able to get what he needs for the police, he'll be feeling under pressure and he'll eventually lose his job - OR - Callum will basically betray Ben and Phil, Phil will probably end up getting arrested for something he didn't do, or something? What do you guys think? Either way - I'm really not liking what Callum is doing right now. It's all going to end in tears!

At the Panesar family home, Vinny, Ash, Kheerat and Suki are all at home. Suki calls them round to the family table, informing them that she has something very important to tell them. She beings to thank her children for always stepping up and helping the family when needed, she explains to them that the police had approached her with a CCTV image in an attempt of her to identify who caused the attack on Martin. She tells Vinny that it was clearly him, but she informs them she didn't tell the police that. Vinny starts to panic as he fears his identity is going to be revealed. But then - she drops the bombshell and announces that it's Jag's turn to do something for his family - her children don't seem to understand what she means by this, it's only when Ash looks towards the washing and realises her brother's jeans are missing, she clicks on that her Mum has grassed up her own son to the police! Both Vinny and Ash are absolutely distraught, they look to Kheerat - who in all honestly looks absolutely speechless. He looks as if he's absolutely fed up with everything that is happening around him - grieving for the woman he loves and now realising he'll be losing his brother too. I think he realises there is no point in arguing and just simply says "Mum knows best!" - I think he's just purely defeated right now.

Out on the Square, Ben and Callum are ready to head off with Lexi to her dance grading. Lexi notices that her Grandad isn't with them, she asks her Dad's boyfriend why he's not coming. Callum explains to the young girl that he's got something else to take care of, but he'll able to watch a video recording of her later on. As Lexi rushes on ahead, Ben turns to his partner and asks straight out if Phil has actually gone to see Raymond, Callum admits that he has - I think it's then that Callum begins to feel guilty for what he's actually doing as Ben reveals to him that he fears for his Dad. If something was to happen and he wouldn't be able to see Raymond again, it would physically break him. It's true that Dennis meant a lot to Phil, he saw him as a soon - now Phil has the chance of being a Father to Raymond, he wants to grab that opportunity with both hands, but Ben fears if anything was to go wrong, Phil wouldn't be able to cope with another loss.

Back at the Carter's household, Max has finished working on Linda's meal for Mick. I'm just putting it out there, but do you think they're going to be an affair?! The more I see scenes between Max and Linda, the more I can see something happening between them. I mean, they've already kissed - what's going to stop them doing any more? I do believe that Linda loves Mick, but it's clear that he's not really been in her good books as of late, keeping an eye on her whilst she's surrounded by alcohol. Linda admit to Max that she fears her husband finding out that she took a gulp of vodka, but he promises her that he's not going to say anything. As Max goes to leave, he has one last thing to say to her, he reveals that he actually does have feelings for Linda, he understands that she's happily married and even compliments her and states the fact that she and Mick are a perfect couple, but he just felt that she had a right to know. With this knowledge, will Linda act upon it? Will they still be able to remain friends? There has been rumours and/or speculation that there could be a Max and Linda affair on the cards? But with Max promising to keep her secrets - will she feel the need to lean on him more and perhaps could things escalate for the two?

Back at Ruby's club, Mick is trying to understand what Frankie is wanting now she's revealed her identity. He informs her that he's unable to give her what she wants right now - with Linda being an alcoholic, if she was to find out about Frankie being Mick's daughter, it could set her off the edge. He explains to Frankie that he and her Mum was a long long time ago, and Linda isn't even aware of it. That's the big question now - will the rest of the Carter family find out and how will they react when they do? Especially Linda?! - OH THAT'S A STORY RIGHT THERE! - Linda finds out about Frankie being Mick's daughter, she feels betrayed, leans on Max and - boom - an affair starts!!! Haha! Too obvious?! Who knows?!

Meanwhile, on the Square, Habiba and Jags are leaving the Vic - they both seem really happy that they're relationship news is finally out and they have been accepted by the Panesar family, or so it would seem. As they discuss being open to the public about their relationship, Jags asks his girlfriend whether she's really truly happy with him, as she's assuring him a police car pulls up and suddenly a Police Officer is arresting Jags for the assault of Martin Fowler and for the robbery at the Minute Mart. Whilst all the commotion is going on in the Square, Suki appears from her home and watches as her son is being arrested and flung into the back of a Police car. Habiba and Jags are shouting in his defence that it's all a misunderstanding, she promises her boyfriend that everything will be okay. As the car drives away with Jags in the back seat, he calls out to his Mum as he sees her starring at him as the car drives past. Suki looks as if she's upset - but is she really? Why did she feel the need to set up Jags? I know it's silly to say, but is it because she doesn't like Habiba? Or is it because she thinks he's useless? Or did she just want to teach her son a lesson? I'm really unsure. What do you guys think?

Back at the Atkins household, Whitney has made sure that everything is looking clean and spotless. Gray re-joins her and thanks her for her help and support. As they begin to discuss Whitney's upcoming trial, Whitney can see how much Gray is struggling, she says to Gray that his children need him more than anything right now. They are all grieving and Gray needs to be with his kids. He begins to softly cry as he admits he's finding it hard without Chantelle, Whitney then makes the decision that she's going to call Gray's boss and inform her that he has stepped down from supporting her in court. She understands that he needs to be with his kids and not putting her first. Gray is reluctant to begin with, he states how much they've worked to build up her case, but Whitney is insistent - and instead, she agrees. Does this mean that Whitney is going to support herself in court, or is she going to get someone else in Gray's place?

Back at the Mitchell's, Ben, Callum and Lexi are all gathered around after seeing the little Tinkerbell at her dance grading. Phil is happily watching is Granddaughters performance on the phone. Callum is watching in the background how Phil is interacting with his Granddaughter, I'm sure it's making sense to him that all Phil cares about more than anything in life, is his family. He might've had a bad reputation back in the day, but his family has always come first. Phil gives his Granddaughter a doll as a present for being so brilliant, she leaves the room with a huge smile on her face, and Ben follows his daughter to get her ready for bed. With Callum free to talk to Phil alone, he asks how it was for him seeing Raymond, Phil opens up to him and admits it was hard, as he's literally just seeing his son in a hospital bed and he knows there's nothing he can do to help. He thanks Callum for filming the video of Lexi for him to watch, and gives him the biggest compliment he get receive "You're good for this family, Callum!" As Phil leaves the room, Callum smiles as he realises he's been accepted into the family, then his face becomes serious - for a moment, I thought, as he was alone, he would reach under his clothing and rip off the wire - but instead he gets out his phone and makes a call. Is guilt getting the better of him? I truly think he does not want to do this and he's going to make it perfectly clear to his boss that he wants nothing to do it - well, I hope!

Back at the Carter's, Mick and Linda are finally having their meal together, although Mick isn't looking interested in the plate of food that's been placed in front of him. Linda begins to ask whether he's alright, she asks about Frankie and Mick just doesn't want to talk about it! He leaves his plate of food and tells Linda to get off his case. You can see that Linda is feeling pretty annoyed by her husband, making him a romantic meal - which he doesn't seem interested in, trying to make conversation - only to be shouted at, and then to be rejected for the offer of having an early night together, to top it off their meal is interrupted my Frankie calling on the buzzer. Linda tells Mick that Frankie is waiting outside for him, is she going to get the wrong end of the stick and perhaps think that Mick is having an affair with Frankie - I mean, he did have a bit of thing with Whitney? Is this what causes her to fall into Max's arms? - Outside, Frankie waits patiently for Mick, as he opens the door ever so slightly, she tells him that all she wants is to get to know him, she's spent her whole life not knowing who her Dad was, and now she's found him - she's not going to let go! Mick slowly nods, is he going to end up having secret meetings with Frankie so they can get to know each other? Will Linda find out and take it completely the wrong way? I am so convinced that something like that is going to happen! What do you guys think?

The last scene of the episode tonight, Callum is finally standing up for what he believes in. He rips off the wire and confronts his fellow Detective and tells him he can't do what he's being asked of. He refuses to take part in it any longer. I feel relieved that Callum has come to his senses and realises what he's doing is wrong, he explains to his co-worker that he'll speak to his Supervisor and admit it was all a mistake. It's then that the Detective reveals the truth, it was only he and Callum who knew about the set up - Callum is left in shock, he really wasn't undercover after all. He's been used to do this Detective's dodgy work! He reveals to him that he has the recording of him assaulting Danny at the Arches, it's then he blackmails poor Callum and says if he doesn't do as he's asked, he'll be setting both he and Ben up and they'll both be sent to prison! Ooooooh what a dirty dirty man!!!! Callum is now backed into a corner, what the hell is he going to do now?!

I was so happy that Callum stood up to him and knew he was doing wrong! How is going to get himself out of this one now? Is there going to be a way for him to ask Ben or Phil for help? Can he perhaps subtly tell them that he's in trouble, being blackmailed and needs help! I'm kind of fearing what's going to happen to the Mitchell family now - not just Ben and Callum, but Phil also! What do you think is going to happen? Will Callum be able to turn things around and find a way out?! Overall a really good episode tonight, I really enjoyed it! I'll probably be back on Friday as I'll be working late on Thursday and will miss Thursday's episode. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your week and I'll be back very soon! Goodnight folks! xXx

[nelllraiser]

hey there demons it’s me, ya boi | connor & nell

TIMING: present. LOCATION: nell’s greenhouse. PARTIES: @connorspiracy and @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: connor meets with nell for some demon talk, but gets a little more than was expected.

Ever since the coven had excommunicated Nell and her sisters, she saw no particular reason to be as secretive about her dealings with demons as she once had been. Of course, she wasn’t going to shout it from the mountaintops, but if someone was already in on the supernatural and wasn’t a threat, the witch saw no need to hide her knowledge. Who knew, maybe if more people knew about her familiarity with demons, less of them would mess with her and her family. As for Connor, she didn’t see any harm in discussing demons with an exorcist. Besides, it’d be interesting to see if he had any things to share of his own. She’d met the young man at the perimeter of the property, knowing that the reanimated corpse that Bea brought to life wouldn’t be happy if an unknown person entered the premises without the escort of a Vural. “Hey!” she waved an arm in greeting, waiting to lead Connor towards her greenhouse. “Are you ready to see the lair of demons?” Her tone was joking, obviously having nothing of the sort. Well...she supposed Greg’s doghouse might be considered a lair, but there was only one demon in there. Not demons, plural.

Connor followed the directions to Nell’s home, examining it from the outside. It was nice. Spacious, modern but with a woodsy kind of feel, well-maintained. He parked his car at the front, following her inside. “Lair of demons. Great band name,” he teased with a crooked smirk, following her to the greenhouse. “You know I feel like, as an exorcist, I’m supposed to be super against this, but I have loads to learn about demonology still…” Connor was no stranger to doing things he wasn’t exactly supposed to. The whole concept of a YouTube exorcist was enough to put the community on-edge. Might as well go and talk to the girl who kept demons in her back garden. “So is it like a butterfly room, but a greenhouse full of demons?” he asked, only half-joking.

“I’ve got dibs on it,” Nell instantly teased back with her own smirk-like grin. “I’m glad you found the place, though.” Sometimes it was hard for people to navigate the Outskirts, especially if they weren’t White Crest natives. “I mean, you can make your own rules, can’t you?” There was an air of levity to the words, as if she may or may not be serious on the matter. But in the end, who was to say what the rules were for magic? Ghost or otherwise? Her newly estranged coven had tried their hand at that, and failed spectacularly in her eyes. “And it’s always good to have the knowledge, isn’t it? But you said you’ve met a couple demons or so?” she asked as she swung open the door of the greenhouse, it opening to her specific touch on the door handle. As they entered, the plants were as ordinary as any other greenhouse, flowering and flourishing in abundance. It was only as you went deeper that more supernatural things began to pop up. “Oh yeah, this is where I keep all the flying ones,” she joked easily, wondering how much he might believe such a claim.

“You can keep it,” he snickered. Connor had his brand name anyway. The dumb name he’d come up with for his youtube account when he was a teenager. It was a little silly, but he liked it. He could feel the magic in the air around them. There was something intangible about the place, something in addition to the actual, physical demons. He turned his head as a lanky old man with grey skin and dead eyes walked past, not even looking at him. He stared curiously as the man walked away, doing slow laps around the house. “Flying monkeys, like the Wizard of Oz?” Now that would be something. “I mean, I specialise in ghosts. I’ve met a demon or two though.” Like, the total beginner versions, but there was no need to advertise that fact. “What are you, some kind of demonologist?” 

“Good, because I would have kicked your butt for it,” Nell continued to joke, no actual threat in her tone and voice. As Bea’s reanimated corpse, Corpsey, walked by— Nell tried to pay him no mind. Maybe if she didn’t say anything about him, Connor wouldn’t either. After all, she hadn’t expressly told him that she was a witch. Of course, all the demon talk wasn’t exactly something that spoke of a regular human, and her familiar in the form of an Ovinikk named Taki letting himself into the greenhouse wasn’t exactly...normal cat behaviour. But she was happy to ignore that all for the moment. Still, she couldn’t resist poking some fun within the confines of his Wizard of Oz analogy. “Exactly like the Wizard of Oz. I’m actually the Wicked Witch of the West. My green skin’s just hidden under some body paint at the moment. Don’t look at me too closely,” she teased. “But okay, what kinds of demons?” As for whether or not she was a demonologist… Nell shrugged as a part of her answer. “I just know a lot about demons is all.”

Kicking Connor’s butt wouldn’t have been hard. He preferred to talk his way out of situations, but he opted not to say anything about it, his eyes instead following the wrinkly-skinned old man as he walked the perimeter of the property. “Oh, um…” He took a moment to answer her question, having to tear his eyes away from the corpse-man and the weird cat. “A few basic ones. Bannik, Badalisc, Alp, and then just the basic non-specific kind, but not that powerful.” Since she’d asked a more leading question, he wasn’t going to outright lie about his prowess. In the days of pulling receipts, he knew it would just bite him in the arse later. “You have a dog?” he asked, eyes drawn to the kennel. “Can I pet him?”

Nell tried to keep her expression neutral as she did her best to mentally shoo Corpsey away. Get out of here, old man! Go be a knock off zombie somewhere else! Of course, it was no use. He couldn’t hear her, and even if he could, he wouldn’t care. After all, since Bea was the one who raised him, she was the one he took orders from. She had to tell Connor something, though. The walking corpse could possibly pass a human, but there was certainly something...off about him to the naked eye. “Oh, don’t worry about him- that’s just Uncle…” Uncle who? “-Cory.” Cory and Corpsey. Good enough. “He’s harmless, but nosy. Probably just wondering why I invited a guy into the greenhouse. He’s a little overprotective,” she added with a light chuckle, and the slightest air of flirtation. Maybe that’d be enough to distract Connor. “But nice! Thankfully those guys don’t usually cause actual death. Were you here when giant Cthulhu Squidward wanted to make the town his own personal Hellscape, though?” She followed his gaze towards Greg’s wooden and spacious doghouse that was just a stone’s throw outside her greenhouse. “Uhhhhh,” she hesitated, deciding how much she should tell Connor. “Well that is actually home to one of the demons,” she finished with a chuckle, figuring telling him about Greg couldn’t hurt. “He prefers eating hands over being pet by them in the beginning.”

“Right,” Connor answered skeptically. “Uncle Cory.” Sure. Why not? Didn’t they all have uncles with grey, decaying skin who walked around in a daze? He gave a lighthearted snicker at her excuse, flashing her a grin. “What, so you don’t normally invite blokes over to the greenhouse? Should I be flattered?” As an exorcist, he was distrusting of demons, but not fully experienced enough to have seen the extent of the horror they could bring. Probably why he was not only inquisitive and curious about Nell’s life, but actually having fun. “No, I missed Squid-thing, and lobster-thing, and fish-rain thing. From what I know about this place though, it’s not long before something else crazy happens.” His gaze was still longingly on the kennel. “A demon dog?!” He was heartbroken. “So… no petting? That’s just cruel.” 

“Exactly,” Nell replied brightly, trying to continue down the road of innocence as Connor repeated the name. It didn’t seem like he really bought it, but at least her attempts to draw his attention away from the corpse with a bit of a flirt seemed to be doing something. “I don’t know,” she teased back with her head coquettishly tilted to the side, a small smirk on her lips. “Do you want to be flattered?” So he hadn’t been here for the squid demon. That was probably for the best. After all, it hadn’t exactly been a fun time. “Damn, you really missed out. There was calamari for days by the end of it.” It was true what he said about White Crest, though. There was always something going on in the not-so-sleepy town. It was endearing how excited he seemed by the prospect of a demon dog, though. “Well...petting Greg probably isn’t the best idea just yet. But I have a different demon dog you could pet.” She rolled up one of her sleeves, revealing both the mottled, patchwork scars that covered the entirety of her arms as well as one of her sigil tattoos.

“I’m always flattered when I get compliments from a pretty girl,” Connor answered, his dumb, innocent charm somehow managing to make the line not entirely cringe-worthy. “Especially when she shows me her demons.” He scrunched up his face at the thought of the sky fish falling down around them. “Don’t reckon I’d want to eat that kind of calamari, or giant horse-sized lobster that tried to kill me, although, that would be a pretty sweet victory feast,” he teased. His eyes widened like a kid at Disneyland as the mentioned another demon dog. “Really? Where?” She started to pull up her sleeves. Oh no. It better not have been burned into her flesh or a Quirrel-Voldemort situation. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw she was drawing attention to her tattoo. “What does that do? It looks mystical.”  

The corners of Nell’s lips turned upwards in the beginnings of a smirk, amused that he’d somehow managed to pull off the line. “Well it looks like you’re on track for possibly getting more with an attitude like that. Careful though- I might think you’re just using me for my demons,” she finished playfully. A small chuckle was pulled from her before she moved on to talk of meals that may or may not have once tried to kill her and the inhabitants of the town. “That’s the point! It’s the best victory feast! What’s that line about revenge being a dish best served cold? This is revenge literally served as a dish.” Should she tell him about the magic now? Or just let him figure it out himself when three fully grown hellhounds sprang from her arm? The latter definitely had a larger possibility of having some laugh factor, so she opted for that. “It’s a sigil,” she replied with a twinkle in the corner of her eye. Then she was biting her thumb until it bled, and swiping it over the tattoo along with a few muttered words of Latin. Almost instantly, the three demon dogs formed from the magic, excited to have been Summoned.

Connor gave a little laugh. Nell was proving to be pretty good company. “Using you? Not at all. In fact I’d probably get a good belting from most other exorcists for not expelling them back to hell or whatever.” He waved his hands in a playful spooky motion as he spoke. “Call me old-fashioned, but I just don’t trust food that falls out of the sky.” His eyes widened as she bit down on her thumb, but he knew better than most that some rituals required blood. He usually just used a small knife rather than his teeth, though. He kept his eyes on her, watching carefully, and when the hounds appeared, he yelped, almost tripping over a watering can and some potted plants in his rush to get out of the way. This was it. This was how he died; mauled to death by hell-dogs in a greenhouse. 

The coy air that Nell had been employing continued to hang around her as she gave the young man in front of her a sly smile. “Wow- you’re really putting yourself out there for me, aren’t you?” The words had an underlying tone of sarcasm as a means of teasing, knowing full well it wasn’t for her benefit. Then she shifted back into a more informative mode. “Yeah, some people call it hell. It’s sort of like...its own separate dimension for them. Like another world you can just yoink them from or yeet them back to. I can’t believe you’re so unwilling to live on life’s edge when it comes to sky food, though.” Had she eaten anything that came from the sky? Definitely not. But it was fun to joke about. The first thing the witch registered was some of her plants almost getting trampled, and a frown was quick to her lips. “Watch out!” she chastised disapprovingly. But then she noticed just how alarmed Connor was, and her hands were quick to come up in a calming motion. “Hey- hey! It’s alright! They’re not gonna hurt you!” As if to prove a point, the friendliest of the hounds, Scooby, padded forwards- considering Connor with a slightly cocked head, ears perked in his direction. “He’ll let you pet him, if you want.” 

Connor didn’t scare easily. It was kind of a necessity to have a thick skin when you dealt with demons and spirits almost every day, but bloody hell, Nell had managed to scare the life out of him. “You’re lucky I’m wearing dark trousers,” he teased, finally letting himself laugh as the air seemed to return to his lungs. Now that he knew they weren’t about to play with him like a chew toy, they were actually kind of… cute. “Aw.” He approached, cautiously, hand outstretched. “Hello…” He’d definitely rather be petting a golden retriever, but this was good too. “Where did you get them? How does it work?” He cocked his head, looking over at her tattoo. “You owe me a really good story for almost making me shit my pants. Maybe even a drink. Or some dinner.” He smiled at her coyly. 

Nell snickered a little at the mention of his trousers before saying, “Aww- was the big, bad exorcist a little frightened? Maybe my uncle was wrong to be worried about you in the greenhouse.” The words were meant in good fun, just as the rest of her teases had been. As Connor offered a hand, Scooby sniffed at it and eagerly nosed pressed to the palm of his hand as he searched the young man. “He’s looking for treats,” Nell clarified in a gentler voice, one that was generally reserved for the creatures she worked with. “There’s a jar next to you with some bits of meat in it if you wanna give them to him.” She wouldn’t say exactly what kind of meat it was. “I first Summoned Scooby- the one sniffing you- when I was sixteen. You know- with magic. He wasn’t nearly as wanting to be friendly back then but- he got used to me after I worked with him a lot. Then he brought his brothers along one day,” she said gesturing to the other two hounds. “This one’s Shaggy,” she said, pointing to the largest of the lot who was beginning to approach Connor as well, “and this is Scrappy.” The last of the hounds was positioned quite seriously next to Nell, considering the exorcist with an eye that seemed to be deciding whether he’d be a nice snack or not. In a moment her own flirting grin was back on her lips. “Well seeing as it wasn’t that great of a story…” she started, as if she were mulling the thought over. “I could maybe find the time for a drink.”

“I’ll have you know I’m neither big nor bad,” Connor chuckled, self-deprecating. Five-foot-eight accompanied by a slight build and a baby face didn’t exactly strike fear into most people’s hearts. The posh accent and floppy hair, neither. He tried not to piss himself while the hound sniffed at him, and followed Nell’s instructions, tossing him some treats, which got the others pretty interested in Connor too. “I knew there were witches and warlocks and stuff, but I’ve never seen one with… this.” He gestured to the creatures around them, and Uncle Corpsy as he made another pass around the greenhouse. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that this kind of power was both intriguing and attractive. “Well then, love, name the time and place.” 

A chuckle fell from Nell as Connor joked at his own expense, and she could appreciate his ability to not take himself too seriously. “My mistake, I guess you just look taller in your videos,” she decided to poke a bit more fun at him. She hadn’t seen tons of them, but after he’d shown her his YouTube channel she’d been curious enough to watch some of the videos. They were interesting to say the least, especially since she didn’t know all that much about spirits or ghosts. Shaggy and Scooby were all too ready to accept treats from Connor, but Nell made sure that Scrappy stayed alongside her, scooping up some separate treats for the smallest of the hellhounds. He was generally the most aggressive, and she wasn’t keen on taking any chances at the moment. Her lips twitched into another smile as he mentioned witches, and nodded in confirmation of that word. “To be fair...Uncle Corbin isn’t mine.” The words were colored with amusement. Apparently the ‘uncle’ ruse hadn’t stuck. But she wouldn’t openly out her sisters that also lived here as witches. Most people simply assumed that the three of them were after finding out that one was a witch, but that was Bea’s and Luce’s business. But a time and place? The words made it sound like more of an actual date to Nell, and she wasn’t sure she wanted one of those. But she was probably overthinking it, and went with the first words out of her mouth. “Dell’s is always good. Or- actually, have you been to The Seven Selkies, yet? It’s got a fun supernatural crowd.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Hard to tell how tall someone is when they’re in frame by themselves,” Connor snickered, pulling out his vape (probably bad form to smoke actual cigarettes in someone’s greenhouse). He gave her the kind of smile that said he didn’t exactly believe her when she talked about Uncle Corbin, but he wasn’t going to directly challenge her on it. “The Seven Selkies sounds great.” 

[theclosetpoet7]

Love & Red Locks

Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine.

Notes on one-shot: This was inspired by the song “Brains Out” by Kim Cesarion (Damn this song turns me on)

Rating: M

The tavern he finds himself in is small and covered in smoke as he approaches the bar and orders a cup of sake for starters. He can hear the obnoxious laughter of the drunkards having too much fun on the opposite side of the room. Sasuke clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes when a woman settles herself next to him in mere seconds, her long blonde locks brushing slightly over his black coat and a sultry smile on her person as she drawls.

"Hey there."

"Not interested."

The young Uchiha wastes no time in rejecting her advances. She lets out a small huff and jumps off the stool but not without giving him a good view of her backside as she looks over her shoulder to pout.

"Your loss then."

Obsidian orbs narrow as he pours himself another cup, making eye contact with the bartender while taking out his wallet in a signal that told the other man to keep the drinks coming. He turns around in his seat, arms settling behind him and over the counter as he observes the mess of bodies gathered on the dance floor. Most probably complete strangers, looking to get some physical contact to cover up the loneliness they so desperately tried to deny.

Three bottles in, he orders a bowl of ramen to counteract the alcohol in his system. Eyes still searching the crowd for anything that remotely piqued his interest.

Ah.

There.

Uchiha Sasuke meets her eyes and lets out a subtle smirk as he regards the other female with familiarity. She gets up from her seat, fair hands holding a glass with a liquid he could only describe as purple and iridescent. The seductress saunters on to him.

"Did you know that a bottle of sake has about twenty percent of alcohol?"

"It's actually fifteen percent."

Her lips simper.

"True, but the drinks you ordered aren't watered down like the common ones are."

She smiles sweetly at him, curved lashes lightly touching her cheeks when she lowers her eyelids to give him a provocative look.

"The bartender might have overestimated the weight of my wallet."

The young woman giggles while tucking her hair behind her ear, a sign of flirtation that Sasuke knows all too well.

"Judging by the way you dismissed that girl in seconds but not me, I can say that you are starting to feel the effects."

He raises an eyebrow and proceeds to down another cup. She tilts her head to the side, plump red lips teasing him in the way they stick out due to the lipstick she has on.

"And...if my chakra detecting skills haven't gotten rusty after all these years, I can tell that you are..."

She places a hand over his shoulder to lean in, her strong perfume clouding his senses when she whispers seductively into his ear. The handsome avenger stiffens and to add even more allure to her invitation, she tentatively bites his ear before pulling away.

He closes his tab then and after meeting her dark eyes, makes his way out of the establishment; footsteps picking up the pace but at the same time cautious so as to not lose her as she follows him to his room, black heels clicking on the pavement, signalling their mutual agreement.

Because, she was right.

He was in fact...

"Looking to fuck."

___________________________________________

Hot damn, your mind's so beautiful, I'm struck dumb, don't know where my shit's at.

He allows her to push him down the bed. Her legs settle over his narrow hips, and he watches with contained eagerness as she takes off her shirt and tosses it on the hotel floor. She had always been the dominant partner when it came to their trysts. Although he is the more forward one back home, Sasuke doesn't mind the aggressive way she takes command.

He allows this woman to have her way with him.

His fingers tangle in her long red mane which makes him briefly contemplate about the fact that he still isn't used to grabbing hold of strands with such length considering that Sakura had always liked her shorter style. There is a twinge in his heart when he spots the dark color of her tresses again which is a stark contrast to his wife's cherry pink ones. But the want overpowers any lingering doubt especially when she grinds her hips to his. He threads through her hair and angles her head closer to his.

Their lips meet in a union of mixed wet tangling prompting him to groan at the confident way she lowers her hand to touch him underneath his slacks. This woman is different from how his wife usually touches him. The latter was always careful and gentle as well as patient in bringing him to release. The minx before him however is rough and crass, spitting out profanities as to how much she wants to make him come. He hisses as she squeezes his shaft after ridding him of his clothes except for his boxer briefs. By instinct, he thrusts up to meet her hard pumps.

He opens his eyes and yet again spots her hair and the way it curved into spikes, the shaved part of her head giving way to a lighter spot. It is in this moment when he suddenly realizes it. His eyes widen and he catches her hand in his to pry it off his hardened member.

Because, although he enjoys this woman's forwardness, he knows that they shouldn't take this any further than they already have.

"Stop."

"Huh."

"Just stop."

"Why Sasuke-kun?"

.

.

.

"Take off the henge Sakura."

*Poof*

The red locks that have been bothering him since they stepped foot in the room change into the pink hue he has always loved. Sasuke catches a few strands and brings them to his lips softly. Underneath the fog of his inebriation and the flashing lights back at that bar, he hadn't even realized that she had changed some of her features. Though her face was just the same, it didn't occur to him that his wife would actually...

"It's not you."

"What do you mean Sasuke-kun?"

"Your hair."

...attempt to mislead him.

Uchiha Sakura pulls away. Sasuke's eyes fall on her bouncing breasts as she confidently sits up straight, her long legs still over his hips, hands settling on his abdominals as she scrutinizes him under her loving gaze. Eyes searching his, trying to understand why he has halted her actions.

But there is an air of mystery around her, one that reminded him of their earlier days as a couple; when he realized that she had been wondering about when he was going to kiss her for the first time.

"Why red?"

She bites her lip and swallows her saliva, as Sasuke too, pushes himself off the pillows and supports her bottom as he pulls her closer to him.

"Why did you use red Sakura?"

"..."

"Sakura."

"Karin's hair is red."

"I thought so."

"I..."

"You were curious."

"You've gotten really good at reading me Anata. It's always been a question. Not about whether or not you actually slept with her. I ..."

She blushes a deep red.

"I know that I was your first."

"So I've told you."

"But you were travelling together in your teens. Your hormones must have gone haywire with a sexy woman like her, walking around camp."

"Men can control themselves."

"Hm."

She draws her eyebrows.

"I never had the urge."

"Right, but even I had wondered from time to time at that age, especially being surrounded by strong men."

"Are you trying to tell me that you want me to put a henge on?"

"No! No! It's only you I want. Even when they were shirtless and all, it was always your face I pictured. Ah, gomen. It was inconsiderate of me to assume that you might have felt otherwise. I know you love me Sasuke-kun but it doesn't mean that you can't be attracted to other..."

*Flick*

"Itai."

His hands slide over her thighs, one continues its sensuous ascent to grab one breast while the other settles under her pink curls to rub on her protruding pebble.

"You are allowed to be attracted to other women." She reiterates.

Sasuke stops.

"Sakura, you were the one who suggested the role-playing."

She had. Three months into their marriage and a year since they've started travelling together, the pinkette had suddenly proposed this to spice things up in their bedroom. Not that he didn't think that it was passionate already. Their mating was one that always managed to blow his mind. But she had wanted something different, and ever since they started walking side by side, Sasuke has known that he couldn't really say no to her all that often.

Besides, what was the harm?

Apparently something more profound than he previously thought.

They were bound to delve into this topic one way or another. Even if his wife knew of their deep connection, there were still certain curiosities they haven't discussed.

"I have a confession to make."

She pulls away then, and as they always do whenever they're in serious conversation, Sasuke gets up and takes a chair. He places it in front of her, while giving her the unspoken space she needs for a few seconds.

When he sits down, and leans over, a hand rests on his knee while he looks at his wife who is busy biting her lip. Sasuke lets out a sigh.

"What is it?"

There is a pause.

"I'm jealous."

"I can see that."

"Of Karin. I'm jealous of Karin."

Why she would be is beyond him. They ran into his ex teammate months before and it was a brief reunion that involved certain intel on a former sannin.

"I know it probably doesn't make any sense. I mean, you told me you loved me and we're together. It's just that..."

"You haven't really forgiven me have you?"

"What? I have! I have. I think I have."

"Sakura, do you still resent me for that night?"

She knew what he was talking about.

Because even if Sasuke was with her now, and he was essentially the boy she fell in love with, there were still some issues that were unresolved. They never really talked about what happened before.

For Sakura was too quick to forgive him.

"You said you didn't need us."

There it was.

His eyes dawned with understanding.

"I'm sorry. It seems petty. And years after at that but I,"

She finds her words carefully.

"You said that you were destined to walk that path alone."

Sakura withdraws into herself but regards him cautiously as she puts her hair over her shoulder and plays with the long pink strands. She breathes in deeply.

"Yet you chose them."

He isn't saying anything.

"You sought Karin out. You went to her. While you left us. You left me. But, you went to them."

"I'm sorry."

"No no, I'm not asking for an apology."

Sasuke runs a hand through his jet-black hair.

"I don't know what you want me to say Sakura. I can't change that part of my life."

"I'm not asking you to."

"But you can't let it go."

She focuses on him then.

"It's not that. I have forgiven you. I am proud of you. However, after meeting Team Taka for the first time, I realized something."

His wife fumbles with her fingers. And if their topic wasn't so important in this moment, Sasuke would notice that they are both half-naked, upper torsos unabashedly exposed with just their undergarments remaining. Sakura finds her words again.

"As it turns out. I still haven't gotten over that part, seeing you with your team, seeing you with her and knowing how much you actually care for them."

"..."

"It hurts. And I don't want to feel like this. But I just do..."

"Sakura."

"It's actually a bit selfish of me huh? Considering that you have never done anything to make me doubt your... "

She reddens.

"Your love for me."

She is the epitome of a blushing bride. Fresh out of their marital bed, still so shy about their relationship but confident in it as well. This must have been something that caught her off guard.

"I'm honestly happy Sasuke-kun that you found comrades like that despite everything."

But she is still a bit insecure. He can tell. It surprises him because she has never been this unsure about them before. And she's never been jealous.

Sasuke gets up from his seat and puts a knee to the bed. He grabs his wife's hand and pulls her to face him. They are sitting across each other on their knees.

Uchiha Sasuke stares at Uchiha Sakura then, and he tells her with his eyes. It is a connection so deep and so cathartic that her eyes give way to an emotion that is exclusively reserved for him and allows him to embrace her.

Skin on skin.

Heart on heart.

Bodies flushed against each other in a hold meant to draw out embarrassment in some couples but not them.

It meant so much more to them.

"Can you feel that?"

The former avenger whispers.

Sakura lets out a deep exhale and wraps her arms around him, pulling him even closer.

"Yes."

"Count them."

She presses her face closer to him and inhales his manly scent. When she exhales again, her breath puffs softly against his skin, the light contact already stirring his insides.

"102 beats per minute."

"Because of you."

How could she doubt for a second?

When it was only her.

"I couldn't..."

She waits for him to continue.

"I couldn't bring you down with me. I decided on revenge in the end. I chose to leave team 7. I chose to leave you because, I couldn't bring you down with me."

"Sasuke-kun."

"And I don't regret it."

He guides her to the bed and hovers over her, his lips skimming her neck and fingers tangling in her own when he pins them to the side of her head. His tongue comes out to lick the skin above her pulse.

"Aah, Sasuke-kun."

"At the time, sex was the furthest thing from my mind Sakura."

She curves her body to him.

"Even if I thought of it then, I couldn't have possibly done it with another woman. Because you existed."

Then he releases her hands and towers over her, no hesitation in his actions as he pulls her panties down, revealing her sex to him. Her instincts should tell her to cover her body, but with the way her husband is staring at her, Sakura can't. And she couldn't take her eyes away. Not when he was still holding her gaze. Since she had already been eager moments before, his previous touch only served to awaken the heat in her body.

"But now, it's all I can think about."

He pumps himself for a second, staring into the depths of her soul. When he is hard and ready, he gathers her into his arms.

"Sasuke-kun."

He smirks.

"I am always..."

He enters her in a thrust so powerful and hard that it sends sparks into the pits of her stomach. Fireworks set off in her core as she pulls him in, legs wrapping around his taut ass, gasps drowning out her unease when he continues his last sentence.

.

.

.

"I'm always looking to fuck my wife."

Her screams echo into the night as her husband proves to her over and over again that she alone held his heart.

.

.

.

Because Kami.

He just loves to fuck her brains out.

____________________

Author's Note:

Itai- Ouch

Gomen- Sorry

Not as detailed as the others. Hello! I disappeared for a while huh? Still not completely back yet. In fact, I might not be completely back because life is just you know. But I just want my readers to know that I really appreciate all your reviews. Don't worry, I am not abandoning my stories but I just don't have a schedule to always keep them updated. Still though, whenever this juices start flowing, I will type them out.

Oh my, I was the one misleading you guys. :). Anyway, I always wondered how such a discussion between Sasuke and Sakura would go with regards to any past relationships.

Rest of the Fic; Love & Roll

[briangroth27]

Annabelle Comes Home Review

Annabelle Comes Home is a respectable and dependably spooky addition to the Conjuring franchise. It isn't the scariest—none of the spin-offs have been able to touch The Conjuring 1 or 2 yet—but this is my third-favorite film in this ever-growing horror shared universe and I had a lot of fun watching it!

Full Spoilers…

It was great to have Lorraine (Vera Farmiga) and Ed Warren (Patrick Wilson) back in more than just stock footage, even if they still had reduced roles. I’m glad they touched on the real-life questions surrounding the veracity of the Warrens’ investigations: that’s a good aspect to mine for drama, both for them and for Judy (McKenna Grace) with her peers at school. As far as the Warrens go, it’s hard to play that real-life public scrutiny any further than they do here: there’s no question whether ghosts are real in the movies since we can plainly see that they are. This film finds the Warrens in a more traditional horror setup, with them out of the house and the terrors affecting the teenagers left home alone, but the movie’s creators found the right balance to keep them recognizably “the Warrens” while also exploring that setup. Plus, Farmiga and Wilson are both so good in these roles that it’s nice to see them in whatever new situations the writers can cook up! This setup offered a peek into their home life when they’re not on an investigation and brought a little more variety to this cinematic universe’s offerings. The one thing I would’ve liked from Lorraine and Ed this time was a discussion about whether or not they should continue keeping their haunted vault room in their house with their daughter. They have to decide that they will, given it still exists in the Conjuring films, but I would’ve liked to hear the thought process behind keeping it. Did they have second thoughts at all? Do they just trust that the kids have learned their lesson? Did Judy reassure them that she’d be fine, either through her actions here or with a newfound strength uncovered by the film’s events? Might they even use the archives room to train Judy in the use of her paranormal sensitivity to some degree? (Probably not, given that would mean intentionally exposing her to dangerous demons). 

Like the Warrens, the rest of the characters were very likable and engaging. I greatly appreciated that the kids at the center of this film weren't the typical dumb teenagers messing with haunted things for fun or because of carelessness, but were instead aware of and at least a little respectful of the power of the Warren's archives. They were also capable in their own right (at least, as much as they could be in the face of this sort of danger). Judy's struggle with her burgeoning paranormal powers was well-handled and this was one hell of a first experience! The fallout at school from the questions about her parents' honesty was both a smart place to plant the seeds for the movie's main plot and to explore the unexpected (and until now, unexplored in this series) effects on Judy. I wonder if they’ll take liberties and have Judy grow up to follow in her parents’ footsteps someday, because Judy going from scared, lonely kid to opening herself up to the supernatural to save her friends was a great arc that could easily build into a new sub-franchise (particularly as we haven’t seen Lorraine’s early experiences with her supernatural abilities at an extended length). Grace did great with that transition and she was also really good at playing the more everyday character beats like Judy’s conflicting hesitancy and eagerness to open up to a new friend (Katie Sarife) despite pretty much everyone she knew thinking she was a freak (a very relatable tween/teen struggle). That development was a nice, grounded parallel to Judy’s sensitivity to the supernatural. I liked the idea that there would logically be good ghosts out there in addition to the demons the Warrens investigated, just like not all people are bad. That bit of wisdom was a cool moment for Judy’s babysitter and (initially) only friend Mary Ellen (Madison Iseman) to help Judy on her journey, giving Judy the courage to lean into her abilities to help save the day.

Mary Ellen was a refreshing change of pace as a responsible babysitter who truly cared about her charge. I liked her friendship with Judy and their scenes together felt totally natural and lived-in, as if their hangouts had been going on for years. I also enjoyed her displaying no hesitation to trying to put an end to the ghosts once she knew what was going on. Iseman’s acting and Mary Ellen’s writing also made good use of the push and pull between her responsibility to take care of Judy and Daniella’s intrusion into both the Warrens’ house and her romantic life. Mary Ellen’s awkward flirtation/burgeoning romance with Bob (Michael Cimino) was cute and the film included just enough of it to sell their mutual attraction and chemistry, while keeping it at a realistic level for teens who knew each other but didn't really hang out (so there was no "it's totally love already!"). The one beat that rang a little false for me was Mary Ellen and co. going “We’re totally fine!” at the end of all that terror: that was a touch too glib IMO, but as teens trying to save face in front of their peers—especially the guy she liked—it still worked. Besides that, I’m glad the horrors here weren’t just laughed off and there was an honest discussion with the Warrens about this being a serious incident.

Mary-Ellen's friend Daniella gets that talk and it was a nice show of responsibility that she’s the one who pushed Lorraine to call her out on her mistake. Throughout the movie, she was well-drawn not just as a dumb teen looking to stir up some ghosts for laughs, but as someone who had real pathos in wanting to see her dad (Anthony Wemmys) again. While you’re spending the movie thinking that she should absolutely not be exploring the vault and trying to contact her dad, her performance and the writing make it totally understandable that she would. I bought her sadness and guilt and thought she walked the line between accomplishing her agenda and genuinely caring about Mary Ellen and Judy very well. I also liked that she truly seemed interested in Judy as a person, even if she was also using her to see her dad again (if only she’d just asked Judy which artifact could help her!). All three of the central girls have a similar complexity to their characters, pulled between what they want and what’s been forced on them (Judy’s powers and the isolation caused by them and her parents’ reputation), what they’ve been hired to do (Mary Ellen, though she would still be Judy’s friend; her arc has the least tension), and what they’ve convinced themselves they have to do (Daniella seeing her dad again, which makes her a nice foil for Judy in that the paranormal is what she’s seeking but her pull away from it comes from befriending Judy). That’s a cool common building block to these characters that immediately makes them multi-dimensional, a state that’s only further enhanced by the actresses’ performances. Ben was fun as an awkward teen with a crush, and I liked that he wasn’t too toxic, like you might expect from a high school boy in a horror movie. Another refreshing twist (and a bonus gift stemming from the public scrutiny about the Warrens’ cases) was that all the kids readily accepted that ghosts were real rather than having to go through the motions of beginning to believe in them.

While this was entertaining, I’m over Annabelle as an antagonist at this point: she was fine here, but the other ghosts definitely felt like more of a threat and stole the show while it felt like the doll didn’t do much of anything (even though it was the object pulling the other ghosts to the house). I wouldn’t mind if this were the last Annabelle movie, as it seems like they’ve said all there is to say about the doll. They also included a nice full-circle tie back to Annabelle Creation with a brief vision of her human self (Samara Lee), making it feel even more like this is the last one. Thankfully, there was a sizable monster mash of new ghosts here too! While I would’ve liked some more focus on each of them (a longer haunting act would’ve been nice), I liked what we got and there was a solid variety to the types of scares they generated. The Ferryman was scary and I liked the mythology behind him as well as his appearance. The the coins hitting the floor and rolling in to view to herald his approach were really creepy-cool, and the rules about him appearing in the dark vs. disappearing in the light were used against and by him really effectively. At one point I was hoping the “werewolf” case would be the basis of Conjuring 3 since it seemed like an original take on both a possession and a werewolf movie, but I guess not. Still, I liked that they got some classic werewolf imagery out of the Black Shuck (Douglas Tait) when it ripped up the car. The Bride (Natalia Safran) and the typewriter brought a classic ghost sensibility to the mix and the Feeley Meeley game was bizarre even before it was haunted! The movie definitely left me wanting to know more about the other ghost artifacts in the Warrens’ vault, especially the cursed samurai armor and the future-telling TV. Maybe they could make a web series or something exploring the cases that brought the vault objects to the Warrens’ attention! 

Annabelle Comes Home has a strong cast with well-written and atypically alert characters facing a good variety of specters. The pacing’s solid: they take their time introducing us to the characters, which helped generate fear for them when they were put in danger and made the film feel like a throwback to 70s horror, which is fitting given the film’s setting. It also helped to defuse any knee-jerk “this is a real dumb plan” reactions to Daniella trying to contact her dad because she explained her mission enough for me to be invested in it (giving her such a strong a need to see him also avoids any “this is what you get for being stupid” reactions when her quest puts everyone in danger because I felt sorry for her). Jump scares don’t bother me—they’re fun too!—and this movie definitely has some effective ones along with the creepy visuals (like the denizens of a graveyard (Sheila McKellan and others) approaching the Warrens’ car that only Lorraine can see). The paranormal attacks seemed more intense overall in the Conjuring films and Annabelle Creation, which are probably the three scariest entries in this franchise so far (though I liked this one and these characters better than Creation’s). The music, both the score and the 70s songs, was well used to creepy effect.

This movie might not have been necessary, strictly-speaking, since we already saw Annabelle get loose in the first Conjuring, but it was definitely a lot of spooky fun! It's a solid haunted house flick with a strong cast and that’s exactly what it needed to be. It’s also a good ending to Annabelle’s spin-off trilogy and got me ready for the next Conjuring with the focus shifting back to the Warrens (and maybe Judy this time?). You should definitely check this out!

Check out more of my reviews, opinions, and original short stories here!

[miraculouskpop]

EXO Reaction - Members and their S/O as Ladybug and Chat Nior

This is a Miraculous Ladybug AU with EXO starring as Chat Nior and you as Ladybug. 

Note that all GIFs are not created by me, and goes to the respective owners. 

Suho as Cat Nior

Kim Junmyeon would take his role as Chat Nior very seriously considering the possible outcome of his homeland. Although being a new superior gifted with deadly supernatural powers, Suho will be dignified with these abilities and won’t hesitate to remind you the responsibility of taking care of the people. Just like being a mother figure in EXO, he will take charge overseeing everything. In fact, Suho as Chat Nior will be the one leading the team, not you. He can be amusing at times, but overall, Suho as Cat Nior will be very diligent because saving the day is important within itself, after all. 

Lay as Chat Nior

Lay, poor child, bless his heart. 

The nature of Lay’s persona contradicts the destruction of power. He’s unlikely to even use his newfound power, and perhaps give up his ability in order to avoid unnecessary devastation. After some convincing, Lay would gradually accept his new role as Chat Nior, but it doesn’t mean he will like it, however. He hates hurting anyone, even those horrible beings called akumas, but really, they’re just people being possessed, so why should he harm them? You will have to take over majority of the missions and defeat the akumas. Afterwards, you would sit with Lay and have a serious discussion of separating personal with superhero identity. 

“You’re not really hurting anyone, and I need your help.”

“I know, but I feel so guilty about it.”

“But look on the bright side. Your power gives me the opportunity to defeat the akuma and protect the people. It’s beneficial for both of us in the end.” 

“I guess so...”

You’ll have to constantly encourage and praise him to continue his role as Chat Nior. After some time, Lay will feel more comfortable with his power of destruction and selectively choose the akuma to defeat. However, his baton will do fine. 

Xiumin as Chat Nior

“So... How do you like me now?” 

Xiumin would become rather cocky and sensual as Chat Nior. Transforming into a dark, seductive, majestic black clad feline bestowed with supernatural abilities is a girl’s wet dream within itself, and Xiumin knows how to use effectively. As Chat Nior he’ll be such a mischievous tease that sometimes likes to play tricks on you. An example being sneaking up behind you, or wrapping his black tail around your leg much to your annoyance ( not really ). He’s confidant as Chat Nior and knows the time to kick necessary ass, but he cannot help but to show off a little. Sly flirtation is Xiumin’s crafty gift, and he loves to use it on everyone.

Women and men love Chat Nior. 

Hell, he loves himself as Chat Nior. 

He also happens to converse more comfortably as Chat Nior, but careful with his vulnerable expressions. Either way, being heroes will become a pleasant experience for the both of you. 

D.O as Chat Nior. 

Okay, so....

This is awkward. 

D.O as Chat Nior is just... uh, D.O, really. He doesn’t really alter his ego. Sure, he’ll take his position seriously, but he always take everything seriously, so that’s nothing new. As Chat Nior, he’ll remain quiet as ever and will act upon demand, so you will have to direct orders. Of course, don’t get him wrong, he likes being superb and whatnot, but it’s not that significant to worry over. Another day defeating an akuma hellbent on destroying the city. Nothing to see here. 

Between you two is also awkward. He rarely speaks, so you really don’t know what’s on his mind. 

But piss him off... 

And he’ll destroy everything in his path. Thankfully it hasn’t reach to that point, but let’s hope situations never reach to it. 

Chanyeol as Chat Nior. 

*GASP!* 

“No way! You’re joking, right? Me? A SUPERHERO!?” This boy would literally fanboy all over the place at the thought of being a superhero. So, after all the fanboying and squealish screams of joy, Chanyeol as Chat Nior would be... let’s say, destructive. He can barely contain his emotions, so as a superhero it would be very difficult to tame him...- consider Chanyeol as a young child who’s imaginary powers became real. If it wasn’t for your good luck charms, Chanyeol would’ve already burned the entire world into a crisp. He can be provoked easily which leads him to abuse his powers and destroy everything in his path, whether intentionally or not. He happens to become very sad if you don’t praise him for any of his efforts. You try to lecture him on the subject of controlling his powers, but all of it goes out the window. Hot headed, aggressive, and sometimes dimwitted, Chanyeol as Chat Nior would be a bit of a chore for you.

Chen as Chat Nior. 

Chen as Chat Nior would be a little unfitting. 

Chen never really cared for superhero stuff, so doing anything related to supernatural, hocus-pocus, fight an enemy of the day wouldn’t interest him. He has better things to honestly do, but he’s not complaining. Too much. 

Honestly, this will have to grow on him. He’ll try to adapt, and certainly ask a lot of questions...

“Will this cause health problems?”

“Okay, so, I have to be careful because my hair stylist finished my hair this morning...”

And you? More than annoyed. 

“God, look! It won’t ruin your face if you just avoid any akumas’ attacks.” You sigh in frustration, and Chat Nior nodded with a slight smile. “Awesome, because I have a photo shoot at two o’clock today and don’t need my face messed up.” He’ll try to fight, but it’s kind of pointless since he misses his opponents, anyway. 

Baekhyun as Chat Nior. 

“IT’S TIME TO PARTTTTTEEEEEEEHHH-”

Frankly, Baekhyun would be more than excited to become Chat Nior. It gives him the freedom to truly be himself without any judgement. He’ll mostly play around with his supernatural capabilities rather than take responsibility and get to the point, much to your frustration. He often teases his foes and play tricks on everyone with the intentions of saving the day, but just in his own special way. Being Chat Nior also gives Baekhyun the opportunity to find love without lurking paranoia, considering his swift flexibility and heightened senses. 

Chat Nior loves to goof off and find interesting things to do besides work. He explores places during the midnight hours and would introduce you to new scenery.

“Wow, looks amazing.”

“Not as amazing as you, my lucky bug.” 

Oh, and the puns. Lots and lots of cheesy puns. 

“Awe man! You gotta be kitten me!”  

“How about a little... purrsuasion?”

Kai as Chat Nior. 

Like an idol, Kai will have a bit of an identity complex that only increases in difficulty once he accepts the role as Chat Nior. He’s not sure how to act, so he only gauges by how he sees in most superhero films. Creating an alternative personality is like wearing a costume for a special event. As Chat Nior, he projects himself as cocky, aggressive, dominating, flirtatious and all the other stereotypical personalities, but in reality, he’s very vulnerable and uncertain of himself. Of course, he’ll never let anyone see this side of him. In the midst of a dangerous situation Kai will become somewhat nervous of his capabilities and the results of them... What if he fails? What if he’s not good enough? What if he loses control and go crazy with a lust for power? These thoughts plague him at night. 

However, you were there to set things straight. 

“Chat, I think you have what it takes.”

“I don’t know. Honestly, it’s hard enough living as an idol... How am I suppose to tackle being a superhero part time?”

“Just be yourself. Don’t allow these fears to dictate your life.”

“You’re right. I’ll try my best.”

Sehun as Chat Nior. 

Prissy cat. 

Annoying furball. 

Whiny brat. 

Too many names you wanted to call him, but you settled with little kitten just to annoy the shit out of him. 

You two argue quite often over pointless crap. Sometimes, there’s no valid reason to argue, but you guys love one upping each other. He’s such a conceited show off trying to prove how “amazing” and “great” he is, when in actuality he’s nothing more than a stupid, obnoxious brat that’s always yapping at the mouth-

“Look out!” You were so lost in your thoughts you didn’t realize the huge fireball shooting straight at you...- that was, until you found yourself across the building with Chat Nior hovering over you. Okay, so, he’s not that bad. Sure, he can be arrogant, prissy, sissy, and downright rude, but he has some ethical value to him. If the conversation is not pertaining to himself, then Chat Nior doesn’t bother to speak. 

Loves attention, the fame, the admiration of the people around him. Yeah, it’s like a dream come true.  

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

@jonxsansafanfiction All Hallow’s Week - day 1: autumn 

Sansa strides down the cobbled streets, her brown thigh high boots crunching on the crisp leaves scattered across the ground,  her face nestled into the knitted burgundy scarf around her neck. 

No place can compare to Stratford-upon-Avon during autumn. The picturesque villages, bouts of countryside bursting with shades of reds, yellows, browns and oranges and babbling brooks and flowing rivers meandering through, quaint hang-outs from book shops to museums, coffee shops to pubs. 

As a second year student at London College of Fashion, Sansa has adjusted to the hustle and bustle of city life and come to appreciate the limitless shops where she can quite literally shop ‘til she drops, along with the constant goings on that make it impossible to ever be bored. 

But nothing can quite compare to her hometown and she lives for the times she is able to visit. The peace, tranquility and beauty here is second to none and Sansa feels immediately more at ease just for being back.  Entering her favourite coffee shop, she heads straight for the counter and greets the barista with a friendly smile. 

”Hi. What can I get you?” she asks. 

“Could I get a spiced pumpkin latte with cinnamon and caramel sauce.” Sansa recites her order, a deeper unfamiliar voice echoing her words. 

She glances to her left to find the source of the voice. It’s a young man, leaning over the counter, a newspaper opened underneath his face and he’s looking up at her with dark brown eyes, his mouth turned up into a small smile. 

Sansa smiles at him, her unblinking gaze lingering on him for longer than they should until she eventually finds her tongue. “Um, I’m sorry. You go. You were here first,” she offers politely. 

“No, need to apologise,” he says with a suave smile before turning to the barista and saying, “So that’ll be two spice pumpkin latte’s with cinnamon and caramel sauce, please.” 

With his eyes on her, Sansa bows her head slightly and blushes. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.” 

The barista stands behind the counter, a knowing smile upon her face. She’s nothing but a blur to them now and neither Sansa nor the handsome stranger notice her get to work making the drinks. 

“Seems you’ve got good taste,” he says. 

“You too,” Sansa replies in a sultry voice, her body turning towards him.

Though they’re strangers, there’s an immediate familiarity and ease in their flirtations. They hold one another’s gaze with confidence and continue to smile at each other.

“That’ll be £7.20, please,” the barista announces. 

He reaches into the back pocket of his jeans whilst Sansa rifles through her bag for her purse and they both hand the barista a ten pound note at the same time. 

Sansa side eyes him and they both chuckle. 

“This is on me,” he says. 

Though Sansa’s pride demands she pay, she doesn’t wish to engage in the ever controversial debate of whether it is gentlemanly to pay for a woman’s drink or damn right insulting. In this instance, Sansa is inclined to go with the former and accepts his offer with a gracious nod and words of thanks. 

Sansa takes the mug of coffee into her hands and lingers. She wants to invite him to sit with her but suddenly becomes bashful. Fortunately, he has the confidence to do what she doesn’t and says, “Would you like to grab a table?” 

Sansa nods. “I’d like that.” 

“Great.” he beams at her, folding up his newspaper and grabbing his coffee. 

They sit at the table nearest the window and in the daylight, Sansa notices how truly handsome he is. He’s chiseled and rugged, with thick black stubble and curly black hair. His smile is charming and though it’s small and understated, it lights up his entire face. 

Sansa has dabbled in the dating world in her years as a teenager but has never experienced anything quite like this. It’s exciting and her heart is fluttering in her chest. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” Sansa starts. She’s lived in Stratford-upon-Avon her entire life and generally knows the faces of the residents. “Are you a tourist?” 

“No. I was born here, but have been away a lot over the last 7 years. I’m a solider. Left school, went to college to study business, realised it wasn’t for me, so joined at 18. Haven’t looked back since.” 

“Oh.” Sansa is taken by surprise. 

“What? Didn’t take me for a solider?” 

"No, no, it’s not that. I mean, I guess I just pictured you to be the drummer in some indie rock band. What with the boots, tight jeans, suede jumper, long hair and beard.” 

He chuckles, then leans forward and says, “Who says I’m not?” 

Sansa raises her eyebrows at him. “Seriously? You’re a solider that’s also a drummer in a band?” 

“What’s wrong with that?” he teases. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” she smiles and he beams at her. 

“How about you? What do you do?” 

“I’m a student at LCF.” 

He frowns, a puzzled look on his face. “LCF?” 

“London College of Fashion.” 

His eyes widen, “Oh, so you’re a fashion student. That explains it.” 

“Explains what?” 

“You’re impeccable taste in fashion.” 

There’s a certain tone to his voice that makes Sansa momentarily question whether or not he’s being sarcastic, but when she realises he’s being serious she blushes. 

“Thanks. Well, yours isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“You should,” Sansa replies, fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“I particularly like the scarf.” 

“Made it myself,” Sansa says, stroking the knitted scarf still around her neck. 

“Brings out the beautiful blue of your eyes.” 

Sansa is completely floored by his forward compliment and doesn’t quite know what to say. 

For a while they remain smiling at each other and Sansa cannot recall ever feeling this way upon first meeting someone. On first appearances he looks like any other ordinary person, yet something about him is so different.

She’s watched countless movies where encounters like this happen - two mysterious strangers meeting by a twist of fate and being taken with each other - but she always accepted them as being cheesy fantasies reserved for chick flicks. Yet she feels like she’s living one of those fantasies right now. 

Sansa isn’t sure how much time passes by, but it’s enough that when she takes a sip of her coffee it’s stone cold. She and the handsome stranger have scarcely paused for breath, discussing his experiences in the army, Sansa’s aspirations for the future, music and even literature. Turns out they have a lot more in common than just their taste in coffee. 

“Are you joking? Romeo and Juliet is so much better than The Tempest. It’s iconic,” Sansa says. 

“All that romance and death is so predictable. The Tempest is witty and fun.”

Sansa shakes her head. “I guess there’s one thing we do disagree on then.” 

“Looks like it.” 

They both laugh and they’re interrupted by the barista. 

“Excuse me, we’re actually closing up now. We close earlier on Sundays.” 

Sansa looks down to her watch in surprise and sees that it’s 2:55. 

“Wow, is that really the time?” he exclaims as surprised as Sansa. 

Sansa feels her heart sink and is immediately deflated. She isn’t ready to leave him yet. There’s still so much to talk about. 

They both stand up, pull their coats on and head for the door. When they get outside, Sansa notes how much cooler it is, the wind having picked up in speed and a hoard of grey clouds lingering above their heads. She pulls her coat tighter about herself and shivers. 

“So, thank you for the drink,” Sansa starts, breaking the silence. 

“It was my pleasure.” 

Still charming. 

Sansa tells herself that she’s going to invite him somewhere else but every time she tries to open her mouth to say the words she falters. Why is she so nervous? He clearly likes her too. 

“I’m Jon by the way.” 

“Oh, of course,” Sansa says putting her hand to her head and chuckling lightly. It’s only now she realises they were so caught up in conversation they hadn’t even formally introduced themselves. 

“I’m Sansa.” 

“Sansa.” 

She never knew hearing her name could be so beautiful. His voice and the way he moves his mouth around it makes it sound like a song. 

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Sansa practically stumbles over her words, desperate to get them out before she chickens out. For a few moments she keeps her eyes on the ground, afraid to see his reaction but when she looks up at him and sees the ecstatic grin on his face, all of her nerves fade away. They’re replaced with a fuzzy feeling that radiates out from the center of her chest and butterflies that flutter in her stomach. 

“I would love that, Sansa.” 

She smiles a small smile and ignores the urge to tap dance in the street in celebration. 

The two of them fall into step beside each other and proceed down the street, their conversation picking up again. They walk close enough that their hands are brushing against each other and in that instant, the rest of the world fades away leaving just them. 

As they giggle unreservedly and steal longing gazes at one another, they’re completely unaware that today will be the day they recall to their children and grandchildren in decades to come as being the autumn day they were brought together by spiced pumpkin latte’s and fell in love. 

[natasha-cole]

Hey Bartender Chapter 3: Mixed Drinks About Feelings

Pairing: Bartender!Reader x Rock God!Rob

Chapter Summary: Reader has never considered fooling around with a customer. Well, not until recently

Word Count: 3544

Warnings: drinking as usual, swearing, suggestive language, gratuitous flirting

Catch Up: Chapter 1  Chapter 2

The guys from the band, along with some of their friends, continued to make themselves regulars at the bar. They showed up almost every weekend, immediately gravitating to you and Briana. You and Bri were actually happy to see them each time. If nothing else, they were fun to have conversations with and always tipped well. You had come to know their favorite drinks and even remembered their names. You found out this was a big plus with them and often resulted in more cash in your pocket when you acknowledged them by name each time they walked in.

Rob had backed off slightly with his advances, and tonight, he seemed mostly interested in talking to some of the female patrons of the bar.

It wasn’t jealousy, but you couldn’t help but watch him throughout the night; eavesdropping in when he attempted to carry a conversation with some unsuspecting woman close by. It seemed as if the other men either didn’t have an interest in hitting on anyone, or they simply had better luck at it.

“You kept shooting him down,” Briana said suddenly as she leaned in next to you. You were restocking the beer cooler, still staring off in Rob’s direction. “I think he’s moved on.”

“Good,” you replied, “I wasn’t interested anyway.”

“Really? Because you keep staring at him, I’m beginning to think you’re a little jealous.”

“Of what?” You laughed. “Of the way all these women seem to be shooting him down too?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem to be having much luck tonight.”

“I’m just genuinely curious as to why he’s failing,” you added, “he’s always such a sweet talker, he almost had me there a few times.”

“Oh?” Briana asked, raising a brow at you in curiosity. “So there is a chance?”

“Shut up,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t until much later when most of the crowd had cleared out that the guys gravitated toward the bar. They each sat down, looking rather drunk but continuing to order drinks.

“Not having a good night?” You asked as you stopped in front of Rob, placing his drink down in front of him.

“I never have a good night,” he replied. He grabbed his beer, taking a long drink. “The other guys make it look so easy.”

“Yeah, I can tell. I was watching the way you kept getting shot down.”

“You were watching me?”

“Observing.”

“Well, maybe you can tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“I have a feeling you couldn’t handle the truth very well.”

“You and I don’t have a great history with telling the truth, do we?”

“Fair enough. But I’m willing to drop some truth if it means we are only discussing you.”

“Fine, lay it on me. Only if you think your advice means something.”

You placed another beer in front of him, knowing that he’d need it after hearing the advice you were about to offer.

“I’m the friendly neighborhood bartender… I think it’s in my job description to offer advice to paying customers.”

“You’re funny,” Rob grinned. He took a drink of his beer before speaking again. “Let me hear it. What am I doing wrong?”

“Well, your first mistake is trying to pick up women in a bar.”

“Isn’t that how adults meet other adults?”

“Well, yeah. If you’re looking for a hook up.”

“Maybe that’s all I’m looking for,” he said softly.

“If you were only looking for a hookup, you would’ve found one by now.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Maybe…” you trailed off.

“Besides, these guys,” he said, pointing to his fellow bandmates and friends, “are all mostly married, have kids, are in relationships… yet women just throw themselves at them.”

“I think women have the tendency to want the things that are already taken.”

“Even when I was in a relationship, it never worked like that for me.’

“Truth bomb,” you said, “you’re making yourself too available.”

“What? How can I be too available?” He leaned back slightly, placing his hands on the counter as he gave you an incredulous look. Already, he wasn’t taking your advice well. It might have been a better idea to stop there because you didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings; but you kept talking anyway.

“Women like the thrill of the chase. It’s not just men who go after the hard to get. You, you’re putting yourself out there like you’re desperate. It’s a turn off.”

“Wow, thanks. What else am I doing wrong?” He asked sarcastically.

“Where do I begin?” You smiled at him.

“Rude.”

“Okay, seriously though… one, don’t actively look for chicks at a bar, I guess unless you’re really just looking to get laid. But you don’t seem like the type.”

“Maybe I do just want to get laid,” he added.

“Okay, fine,” you chuckled, “in that case, you’re too goddamn nice.”

“I’m too nice?” Now, he rolled his eyes at you.

“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, women love a nice guy… but there’s got to be a bit of danger. I’ve watched you hit on countless women here, you’re too… needy, too clingy, too… attentive.”

“What the hell? So women want a guy who’s a jerk to her?”

“No, I don’t mean turn into an asshole. Just, you gotta at least appear to be less interested. Like, it’s cool to buy a girl a drink, dance with her or whatever. But you… you always jump at any woman who accepts a drink or a dance. You turn into this panicked little guy who seems immediately attached when a woman shows you any interest.”

“Ouch,” he grimaced at your harsh words. You would have thought you really hurt his feelings until he beamed at you with that amazing smile afterwards.

“Truth hurts. I’m just saying, tone down the niceness. Let them come to you once in awhile.”

“I can do that,” he replied.

“Third…” you began as you continued to think of your list of ways Rob could improve his game.

“There’s more?”

You shot him a look as if to say, ‘don’t get me started.’

“Third, relax a little.”

“I am relaxed.”

“No, you’re not. I’ve never seen someone so anxious about everything. Prime example, you’re so worried about picking up chicks at a bar that you’re asking the bartender for advice.”

“I’m afraid that anxious is my default setting.”

“Hmm, just comes naturally then?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I can shut it off.”

“Interesting…” you trailed off.

“What’s interesting?”

“You’re just… you’re a very different person when you talk to me. I’ve never seen the nervousness and clinginess until I watch you talk to other women.”

“Maybe I’m just comfortable around my favorite bartender,” he replied with a smile.

“Really though, my advice is to just to not try so hard. Maybe sit back and let things happen. I mean, you’re good-looking. You’re in a band, which is a plus. And you’re actually a decent guy from what I’ve seen. And, if you’re looking for something more serious that a one-night stand, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“Did you just call me good-looking?”

“That’s what you heard out of that whole thing?” You smirked at him. You felt your heart begin to race when you realized you had let it slip that you found him attractive. You were already letting your guard down with the man, and it wasn’t something you were ready for.

“That’s all that matters.”

“You’re impossible.” You turned from him, moving to the counter behind you in an attempt to regain your composure after your flirtation. Sure, you always flirted with men at the bar, it’s just what you did. The only problem now was that you thought you might be flirting; not in an effort to encourage the man to tip you more; but because you might be interested in him.

“What do you mean by I’m looking in the wrong place?” He asked, breaking you from your thoughts. You turned back to face him again.

“I just mean, you’re not going to find a serious woman in a bar. Not this bar anyway. All these girls are out looking for the same thing that most men are.”

“Really?”

“I mean, there are always exceptions, but, honestly you’d be better off meeting ‘the one’ at a grocery store. Especially at our ages. Girlfriend material does not spend every weekend at a bar.”

“Duly noted. Did you meet your boyfriend at a bar?”

“We’re not talking about me, and we’re certainly not discussing whether or not I have a boyfriend,” you answered, easily dodging his question.

“I’m just curious. I’m tired of talking about me because apparently, I’m pretty bad at being me.”

“I didn’t say that. I basically said you seem like a great guy who is just looking for something in the wrong place.”

“You’re still not going to answer me? After all this time?” He looked at you with those blue eyes, almost pleading for you to let him in on one of your secrets.

“Some things are better left to the imagination,” you replied. You watched him as he bit his lip at you. For some reason, the simple action that you often caught him doing when he watched you still made you think about those lips. You wondered what they might feel like on your skin. When you caught yourself fantasizing about him again, you shook the thoughts away, trying to go back to the conversation.

“So, do you count in the generalization of women in bars who are just looking to get laid?” He asked.

“First of all, I work here. Secondly, that’s none of your business.”

“Well, you know all about my shitty attempts at trying to get laid.”

“Only because you bring it up.”

“Yeah, why is that?” He asked, genuinely curious as to why he was an open book and you were not. “We’ve been talking for a couple of months now and you only listen to me ramble. I know nothing about you.”

“I like to keep it that way. Besides, it seems to just be a part of my job really… listen to the drunk customers tell you all about their lives, offer up words of wisdom… hopefully get a decent tip.”

“So, you talk to me because I tip you?” He asked, and over exaggerated look of hurt crossing his face.

“Hey, customer service jobs… you gotta know how to work the client.”

“Wow, I’ll remember that,” he warned, “I feel so used.”

“Seriously though, why do you worry about my opinion?”

“I dunno, it just seems like stuff you would have insight on. “

“I see a lot working here. I think I have a basic understanding of the ins and outs of meeting people in a bar. Trust me, it’s not always the best idea.”

“You ever consider having a one-night stand with a customer before?” His question caught you off guard. You stared at him, mouth agape as you thought about what to say to that. You weren’t sure if he was honestly asking you the question, or if he might be hinting at something in his own weird way.

“No,” you said simply, recovering from the shock over the unwarranted question.

“Come on, not even once?” A corner of his mouth lifted as he watched for your reaction. You wanted to slap the smirk right off of him; not because you were offended, you had your fair share of inappropriate questions in all the years you had been in this job. You mostly wanted to slap him because you felt that he might have caught you in a lie. You hadn’t ever considered sleeping with a customer, until now at least.

“I know better than to mix work and play. It doesn’t end well,” you said, mostly trying to convince yourself.

“What if the customer kinda works here too?” He asked.

“What?”

“I mean, what if he is… I don’t know, in a band that plays here? Is that really considered a customer? Or maybe it’s a co-worker type of thing.”

You sucked in a breath, suddenly thrilled that he had gone back to hitting on you. You didn’t know why, but watching him hit on other women tonight had made you a little jealous. He was very suddenly back to turning his attention to you, and you really liked it.

“I don’t mess around with co-workers either,” you said softly.

“What do I have to do to break you out of your shell?” He asked. He leaned against the bar with his elbows, still watching you intently.

“It’s unbreakable.”

“Well, I guess I’m obviously not getting anywhere with you either,” he chuckled, “But, are you ever going to tell me your name?”

You held your hand out to him playfully and he eagerly took it in his, his grip tight around your hand. “I’m Lola, nice to meet you Rob.”

“I can’t stand you,” he said, not letting go of your hand.

“You love me. I’m your favorite.”

“You’re right,” he replied as he finally loosened his grip on you, allowing you to slip your hand away from his. For a moment, you thought you felt yourself blushing over the contact.

“Hey, I’ve got something for you.” Rob began to rifle through the pile of jackets that he and his friends had discarded on one of the bar-stools, searching for something. When he finally found what he was looking for, he tossed it across the bar to you. You caught the shirt and curiously unfolded it to see that he had given you one of his bands t-shirts.

“Wow, you really know the way to a woman’s heart.” you joked.

“Shut up, it’s for you to wear when we play here. Briana has one too.”

“Well, we are your biggest supporters I guess.” You folded the shirt up and set it aside, looking back to Rob who was studying you pretty hard now.

“We’re doing a show at a bar across town next weekend. You should come see us play.”

“I’ve seen you play twice.”

“Doesn’t count if you’re working during our set.”

“Trust me, I’ve heard you.”

“Come on, I think you’d have fun.”

“I already told you, I don’t fraternize with my customers. Especially when they’re usuals now.”

“Guess I better find a new bar,” he grinned, “don’t think of it as fraternizing. Think of it as going to watch some live music; a night off.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you replied. In all honesty, it sounded like fun. You had only heard them play when you had free moments during their sets, and from what you had heard, they were pretty great. You never really got to watch them though. A night out, watching them play, not having to worry about work for once… it all sounded nice. You really didn’t want to give Rob the wrong impression though. While you were certain you were very attracted to him, you didn’t want him to know it. There was no way in hell you’d ever act on it; not only because he was a customer, but also because you had a boyfriend.

“Well, Briana is coming and she’s probably going to talk you into going anyway,” Rob warned.

“Of course she is.”

Rob’s friend and band-mates were now calling to Rob as they headed for the door. Rob downed the rest of his drink and stood up from his stool as he found his wallet. He fumbled for cash, leaving a wad of it on the counter.

“Well, I guess I’ve got to go,” he mumbled, “thanks for the advice and the conversation.”

“Of course, that’s why I’m here,” you laughed.

“Yeah, but I have to pay you to talk to me.”

“You ask a bartender for advice, you gotta pay for her time,” you shrugged as you collected his money.

“I’m hurt.”

“You’ll live. And, I’ll see you next time.”

“Yeah, see you next weekend at our show,” he said with a wink as he put on his coat.

“Don’t assume I’ll be there.”

“Oh, you’ll be there,” he replied, “I look forward to seeing my bartender outside of work.”

“Where’s this attitude when you hit on random chicks here?”

“I don’t know…” he said as he screwed up his face, almost as if he were wondering the same thing, “like I said, I think I’m just comfortable around you.”

“Goodnight, Rob,” you called out to him as he headed for the exit. He waved to you as he left, leaving you grinning from ear to ear.

“That was interesting.” You were broken from your thoughts again, this time by Briana who was now standing next to you as you watched Rob leave.

“What?” You asked, still unable to wipe the smile off your face.

“It’s a good thing I was here to do all the work, because you acted as if he was the only person in this bar.”

“Shit,” you muttered as you glanced around to see that there were still in fact other patrons, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Briana said, “after all that flirting, I think we’re one step closer to you getting laid finally.”

“I have a boyfriend,” you reminded her.

“Yeah, a lame one that even you don’t like.”

You rolled your eyes at her, not ready to listen to her go on about Tyler right now. It was bad enough that you weren’t exactly happy with him all the time; it was even worse when Bri went on her rants about him.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I do enjoy flirting with that man. He’s really cute.”

“That does make me feel better,” she beamed.

“I think I need a drink,” you said. You thought about Rob again; how funny he was and how easy it was to carry a conversation with him, even if you only ever told him lies. The last conversation you had had with Tyler was over the phone when you had to call him at four in the morning just to see where he was.

“Really? I’m always trying to get you to drink on the job, what has changed tonight?”

“I’m having feelings,” you laughed.

“You’re into the guy?” Briana moved around you, already grabbing bottles so she could mix you up a drink.

“I shouldn’t be, and I won’t act on it. But, I like the attention.”

She smiled as she made your drink, “I wish you would act on it. Get rid of that asshole of a boyfriend and just let hot lead singer guy fuck you.”

“Briana!” You shouted. You were definitely blushing now as she handed the drink to you.

“You’re so innocent,” she said as she held your face in her hands, “drink up.”

“Did you just make me a Sex on the Beach?” You asked as you examined the liquid in the glass.

“A girl can dream,” she replied wistfully as you took a drink.

“Why are you so concerned about my sex life anyway?”

“I’m in a serious relationship, I have to live vicariously through you.”

You got home well after 3 am, thinking that Tyler would be home, maybe fast asleep. You didn’t usually get home this late, but you and Briana had more drinks to deal with your feelings after closing the bar for the night. You weren’t completely surprised to find that he was in fact, not home.

You sighed heavily upon finding out that the apartment was empty. You tossed your coat and bag down on a chair, considering calling him, just to see where he was and what he was doing. Pulling out your phone, you let your thumb hover over his name for a moment before deciding against it. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to know where he was at this hour, and you could only imagine what he was doing.

You headed for your bedroom, quickly changing into pajamas and crawling into bed. You were sort of grateful that he wasn’t home, it was nice to have the bed to yourself. Even more, it was nice to not walk directly into an argument, that you admit, would most likely be your fault.

Instead of letting yourself dwell on Tyler, you thought back to your conversation with Rob. You liked that he was attentive, even if he didn’t even know your name. Whatever air of mystery you put out there, it seemed to keep him coming back for more. You had to admit, you liked the idea of having that effect on him.

You grabbed your phone, quickly shooting Bri a text now that you were thinking about it.

Y/N: We going to see the band next weekend?

You half expected her to be passed out by now, but she text you back quicker than expected.

Bri: I thought you’d never ask. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you get a piece of that. Leave me alone. I’m tired.

You smiled to yourself as you put your phone back on the nightstand. While you knew you weren’t going to pursue the man, it was nice to have a friend willing to go with you so you could at least look at him.

Tag List: @lamthetwickster @riversong-sam @nekodresden85

[lifeinahole27]

CS ff: “Wait for the Moonrise” (Chapter 2/10) (au)

Summary:  Emma doesn’t remember who she was before she was found in the woods, but she knows that she has a few close friends, a good job, and a loyal cat that greets her every day when she gets home from work. What she doesn’t know, however, is that her past is about to catch up to her in the strangest of ways. She learns quickly that not everything is as it seems, not even her cat.  

Rating: E

Content warnings: smutty smut, brief mentions of the loss of a hand

Chapter specific content warnings: sexual situations, kidnapping (not at the same time)

A/N: My thanks are the only notes I have: to my beta, @captainstudmuffin, I owe my first born; to my artist, @clockadile, I owe at least ten fruit baskets; to the two lovely mods who had to put up with my weird brain, @phiralovesloki and @sambethe, I probably owe gold bars or something. To my guest artist on this chapter, @pompeiiablaze, I owe my meager possessions, and my eternal love. Sorry guys, I ran out of stuff, and don’t actually have any of the above -mentioned stuff. And now, for something completely different! 

Chapter 1 |

Catch it on Ao3 or FFN! And catch @clockadile‘s artwork HERE!

For almost as long as he can remember, Killian has been a friend of the castle. Liam, fifteen years his senior, starts climbing the ranks of the navy even before Killian is left in his care at age seven. With their mother recently passed and their father presumed dead after he disappeared one night several years ago, Killian is left in the charge of the palace workers because of his brother’s status.

It doesn’t take long for the princess to take interest in him, this newcomer just two years older than she, and Killian is thankful for it every day. His life growing up with Emma is one of constant adventures of the mind, and their imaginations take them to every corner of the known world, and beyond.

As they grow, so does his fondness for the princess. Emma, the beloved and respected heiress of the throne, becomes known for her own brand of mischief, but also for encompassing a deep well of love for the people of her kingdom. She earns the surname Swan after it’s shown that she exhibits grace in the face of the public, even if she moves more like a calf still learning to walk when behind the palace walls. As a bonus, Killian has also been witness to another characteristic she shares with the birds that bide their time in the garden fountains. When provoked, Princess Emma will not hesitate to snap at those she feels deserve it.

When Emma begins to show signs of magic, they bring in fairies to start training her and honing her skills. Killian watches in fascination as she creates delicate swirls of fire or water, as she manipulates the air and cascades a line of sparks around her in a circle. He watches as she learns to control not only the magic, but also her emotions, as the two go hand in hand. Only once does she singe the bushes in the courtyard when her temper flares, but that’s the day that her parents tell her that she’ll be expected to find a suitor to marry when she grows older.

Killian joins the navy for two reasons. The first is to follow in the footsteps of his brother, and the second is to somehow make himself more worthy of Emma’s attentions. It’s at the age of eighteen that Killian first entertains the thought that Emma might one day view him in a romantic light, however he is well aware of their difference in status. As it happens, his undeniable intuition and his organized nature make him valuable to the inner workings of the fleet from his position on the land, while Liam moves up from captain to commodore out on the open waters.

It doesn’t hurt, either, that the strategy position means Killian is never far from Emma. Under the king and queen’s watchful eyes, they not only grow together, but also begin a very long, drawn-out courtship. They spend every moment between their duties as royal and lieutenant locked in the delicate art of flirtation and subtlety. Still, it takes them much longer to develop from first kiss to full courting.

It’s during one of these moments that Emma tells Killian to meet her in the flower fields, and he finds her playing with the tendrils of her magic, the blooms changing all colors of the rainbow with her in the center of the beautiful chaos.

“Emma!” he calls out, some mixture of fondness and exasperation in his tone as he smiles at her antics. She’s beautiful in her tumultuous jubilation, her smile shining brighter than the sun above her. With a snap of her fingers, every flower in the field goes back to normal and she makes her way over to him. The hem of her dress is slightly darkened by the dew and dirt, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care as she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls herself close to him.

“You’re getting much stronger,” he comments as his hands go to her waist.

“That’s not why I asked you here,” she says, pressing her forehead to his as she sighs in contentment. “I’ve told my parents not to invite suitors to my birthday celebrations this year.”

His heart speeds up, but he tries to keep his tone calm as he utters one syllable of a question. “Oh?” It’s been years since their first kiss, their only kiss to date, but still he hopes more than he ever has before.

There’s another hum, and she opens her eyes as she drops back to her bare feet, her smile the very definition of happiness. “I’ve told them that I have an interest in someone that I’d prefer to explore.” Her right hand comes forward to stroke along his cheek. Her thumb playfully dips into the dimple in his cheek, deepening it further as his smile spreads wider.

From there they only blossom together, much like the flowers in their field. Every chance they get, they stroll in the gardens together, her arm linked through his, and talk of everything and nothing at all. They duck behind hedges to kiss, hiding from her parents as they explore the tender beginnings of intimacy. They go no further than kissing, as is only appropriate, but as the summer stretches towards autumn, Killian knows that this bond between them is real, and he wants it forever.

In the weeks leading up to Princess Emma’s twenty-fifth birthday, a lot of changes take place. Some of these changes, like the ones that Killian is involved with, are nothing but good. He’s still in a pleasant state of shock that Emma returns his affections, and he spends the time before her birthday celebration ball looking for the perfect, official ring for his bride-to-be.

Thankfully, the palace jeweler finishes the ring he commissions with only days to spare, and with the ring in hand, Killian requests an audience with the king. He only speaks to Emma’s father as a courtesy, as he wishes for the man’s blessing, even if Emma would marry Killian with or without permission. His own brother, as beloved as he may be, knows nothing of his younger brother’s courtship. It doesn’t help that Liam is gone for months at a time. How is Killian to sum up his fortunes in a matter of lines to be sent to the Commodore of the First Armada of the Misthaven Royal Navy?

The talk with King David is nerve wracking to the highest degree. It’s not just asking for a king’s blessing, but everything that they discuss once David settles into an armchair across from Killian.

“You’ve been a member of this castle since you were very young, Killian. You’ve worked hard to gain your rank with the navy. And if you are Emma’s choice, then I have no room to say otherwise, not that I would. For what it matters, you both have my blessing, and I’ll save the protective father speech for another day.” David holds up his hand when Killian opens his mouth. He would never dream of hurting Emma, or ever leaving her.

“There are things you need to know now, to take into consideration as you head towards an engagement, and I’m sure you’re aware of some of it with your own military position.” He seems to weigh his words for a minute, rubbing a hand over his face as he stops just sort of sighing. “I almost wish I’d told you sooner.”

The king looks so serious, and suddenly so tired, that Killian fights to shift in his seat. “Whatever it is, your majesty, I am ready to hear it.”

“Of course, Killian. You’ve always been ready to jump into battles you can’t see,” David says amiably. His smile flashes quickly, before his expression reverts to one of concentration. “There is a prophecy we’ve learned of recently, in which Emma is the remaining hope for destroying the Dark One. He knows of this, and we’re afraid that he’s going to attack Emma in some way. We’ve enforced all the security around the castle that we can, but no plan is impenetrable. You understand that, don’t you?”

Killian nods, beginning to understand the delicate nature of this talk. “And I’m to help in this plan to defend the princess?”

“Everyone has a part to play here. Just stay vigilant at all times. If we can just make it out of this month unscathed, we have a chance of beating him. We’ve even called your brother’s fleet home to protect the shoreline. I just hope he’s back in time for the ball tomorrow night.”

At the mention of his brother, Killian does shift in his seat. Liam knows nothing of his plans to marry Emma, and he still isn’t sure whether or not his brother will approve.

“By your expression, I take it Commodore Jones doesn’t know what has happened on the land in his absence.”

“Aye, your majesty. I’m afraid he’s a little behind on the events of my life.”

“Well, I hope this will give you brothers an opportunity to catch up when everything settles. Have you gotten a ring for her?”

At the switch of topics again, Killian’s smile spreads again. “Aye,” he says dreamily, pulling the small pouch from the inside pocket of his jacket and upending it for the king to see the masterpiece. King David takes it from his palm and holds it up, admiring the smooth band and the reflective gem.

“Not as ornate as I expected you to get, which means you’ve catered to Emma’s tastes instead of your own. You’re already shaping up to be a wise husband.” For the first time during the whole conversation, Killian finally relaxes enough to laugh.

He excuses himself a short time later, heading towards the princess’s quarters as if his body is naturally drawn in that direction. The birthday celebrations are still a day away, but he knows she’s taken to hiding out in her quarters to avoid the bustling masses. He inspects his uniform for wrinkles, or any sign of imperfection, as he walks. After all, he has much to discuss with his beloved.

Love. It’s a concept he never fully intended to discover, as his own family being ripped apart felt like a sign that he should keep his head at his station and never look for any of life’s pleasures. And then the princess tilted her head to consider him, and even at the tender age of seven, he handed over a piece of his heart to her. He, a simple son of a captain gone missing, orphaned at a young age, somehow worthy of the cherub-faced girl that grew up into a headstrong, intelligent woman.

He’s just about to tap on the door to Princess Emma’s quarters when he sees the door is slightly ajar and voices are speaking from within. He has every intention of moving down the hall a bit, to give Emma her privacy, but he hears Queen Snow’s voice echoing the information that King David has just passed along to him.

“We’re going to do everything we need to in order to keep you safe, Emma.”

“I know, Mother.”

“I want you to have this for the time being,” the queen continues after a pause. He’s tempted to peek through the opening in the door to see what it is Queen Snow is giving to her daughter, but he cannot intrude on their privacy that way.

There’s no need, though, especially from the princess’s shocked words that follow. “This – this is your wedding ring. Why would you give me this?”

A heavy silence falls over the two women while Queen Snow seems to gather her words. “Even the fairies are worried that the precautions we’ve taken aren’t enough. There’s going to be a protection spell over the castle the night of your ball, but it can only last so long. And the fairies, well, they can only make it so strong.”

Hearing this, and hearing the way the queen speaks of her worries so candidly with her daughter, the pit that took up residence in Killian’s stomach before his talk with the king grows a little larger. He leans his head against the wall and evens out his breathing, sending up a wish with each exhalation that they can all manage to keep the princess safe.

“With this ring, and the one I’m sure is on the way from a certain young man that is enamored with you, maybe in the face of the worst case, you’ll always remember that we will find you, Emma. We will always find you.”

There’s a muffled sniffle, and he’s not sure which one of them it comes from, but he’s sure there must be an embrace involved.

"Okay, now that's out of the way, I do believe I'm off to the kitchens to see how the preparations are going for tomorrow night. You’ll join me shortly to check on all the details, yes?”

"Yes, I will. Thanks, Mother."

Killian pushes off the wall and quickly makes as if he was just walking down the hall, and it's as he's reaching the door that Queen Snow emerges from Emma's room.

"Good morning, Killian," Snow greets him warmly.

"Good morning, your majesty. It's a beautiful day for preparing for a princess's birthday, if I may say."

"Right you are. Oh, and I do hope you had a nice chat with the king," she says, a sly smile appearing as she turns just enough to look back at him. "Have a good day, Killian."

He stumbles over his farewell, taking a moment to breathe deep again before knocking on the door before entering.

"Who is it?"

"A dashing pirate, ready to steal you away and sail the high seas," Killian growls out as he sticks his head through the space. He moves further into the room, catching her eye in the reflection of the mirror on her vanity.

"Oh!" Emma feigns, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead as she spins in place on her vanity stool, "but who will save me!" They both snicker, with Emma dropping her hand as she rises from her seat.

"Good morning, love." He joins his hands behind his back, standing straight and trying to appear calm despite the roiling of his thoughts.

"And to you," she replies, moving to stand in front of him and reaching out to rub the pad of one finger down the detailing on his uniform coat. He's helpless from stopping himself when he reaches out and clasps her hand in his. He brings it to his lips, letting them linger on the soft skin on the back of her hand.

She hums, sounding content and happy as she looks at him with affection she can't seem to hide now that they've been honest with each other about their feelings.

"I trust you slept well?"

"I did, with all sorts of wonderful dreams about a certain set of lips and that spot you've just discovered behind my ear." She bites her lip after she says it, smiling so wide that her eyes crinkle up and a light blush heightens her coloring.

"I look forward to finding all the spots you enjoy as much as that one," Killian murmurs, careful to keep his voice low so if Emma's dressing maids are still anywhere nearby, they won't hear.

Emma presses forward, wrapping her arms around Killian's neck as she reaches behind him to push the door closed. "I wouldn't mind finding one or two of your sensitive spots, you know."

"You'll hear no objections from me."

“I only have a moment before I have to go help my mother,” she says, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Kiss me until I must go?”

“As you wish,” Killian says immediately, more than happy to attempt to put a smile back on her face before she heads off to deal with last minute details and party planning.

“The maids have all gone, if you’re worried about that,” Emma murmurs between meetings of their lips.

“That sounds like you want me to do more than just kiss you, love.”

"Maybe," Emma says coyly. She doesn't let him argue one way or the other, though, as she leans up again to capture his lips in a rough kiss. Her lips will be red if he lets her continue any longer, and her mother need not know what they've been up to, so Killian decides to take their little tryst in a different direction. Her gown is already laced over a corset, and they certainly don't have time to remove all those layers, so he improvises. It also gives him a chance to ask for something he’s wanted to try for a few weeks.

"Will you permit me to love you with my mouth, Swan?"

By the way her eyes darken and she sucks in a quick breath, he knows she's intrigued by the idea. They've not gone this far. They've barely touched each other at this point but there's something so enticing about the possibility of tasting her that makes him want it now, before he'll not get to see her again until they meet at the ball the next night. There's also a possibility that tomorrow will mean more than just the birthday of the woman he loves.

All those thoughts fly away, far far away, when Emma quickly nods her head. Pulling him down for another kiss as she drags him over to the nearest chair in her sitting room. "How...?"

"Hold on, love. I've got to - "

"Killian, just pull - "

They both pause as they laugh, trying to find their way beneath the skirts of Emma's dress.

He bites down hard on his lip when he finally makes his way beneath the necessary layers. While he is twenty-seven years of age, he’s spent most of his time pining after Emma. The rest of the time, he’s kissed a lass here and there, but just as much as Emma’s kissed a lad or two, if memory serves. This right here, as he eases her knickers down, is something he’s only heard about from ill-reputable sources or saw in the illustrated guide a group of sailors brought to the tavern one day.

“Are you sure, Emma?” They’ve already wasted so much time just getting to this moment, so maybe they should just wait.

“Are you sure, Killian?” The tone of her voice is all the answer he needs, but he makes sure to unbury himself for just a moment to see her face, to raise his eyebrow at the sass, before he ducks back under her skirts.

The stories he heard from other sailors fuel the moments that follow, as his lips brush against her heated skin. The soft ‘oh’ he hears from Emma is encouraging, though, so he presses further. Her legs widen further, allowing him all the access he needs to finally taste her properly. Her body directs him, from that moment forward. Although her quiet sounds are muffled by the fabric over his head, Killian strains to hear every whimper and gasp, obeys when she tells him to stay where he is or move to a new spot, and groans against her in earnest when she asks for a finger to be inserted. It seems he’s not the only one that’s been seeking outside education in the matters of pleasure.

When her skirts suddenly disappear from around him and her hands find his head, Killian worries that he’s gone astray from her desires. He starts to pull away but she frantically commands him not to move, to not stop exactly as he’s doing, and it takes only a few more moments before he feels her climax taking her over the edge. Her breathing stops for a moment, just a few inhaled gasps taken in and held, before she clenches her thighs on either side of his head and holds him there.

His name is her quiet incantation for the stretch of time she’s immobilized, until all her muscles relax. He eases away, then, taking in the rosy tint that spreads from her cheeks, down her neck, to even the tops of her breasts. Emma’s head is resting on the back of the chair, a serene smile lighting up her whole face. Her hands, which had fallen away as she slumped back, surge forward to tug at his shoulders.

“No, no, Swan – “ She kisses him before he can stop her, and he watches with enjoyment as she pulls away just as quickly. She touches her fingertips to her lips, her eyes slightly wide at the taste of herself on his lips, before she smiles and kisses him again.

“You were marvelous, Killian.” Her voice is dreamy when she leans back and speaks. “I can’t even find words to describe what that felt like, but I assure you, you’ll be finding out soon how it’ll feel on you.”

He’s painfully hard in his uniform trousers, and Emma’s words don’t help one bit. But she’s already surely missed from her party planning, and Killian has his own details to see to, now that he’s helping tighten up security.

“I will look forward to that, my love. For now, you must see to your celebration.”

She deflates a little when she realizes he’s correct, and they work together to make sure her undergarments and skirts are all back in proper place before she checks her hair. The flush is still fading from her fair skin, but it can be passed off as exertion when she will have to all but run to the kitchens.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Emma says as she kisses him softly after they’ve both freshened up a bit. They talk quietly, standing just outside the door to her quarters but still cautious of any who might be around.

“Until then, Swan,” he kisses the back of her hand one more time and bows over it, accepting her smile and the hand she places gently against his cheek as she returns the sentiments.

She’s gone in a flurry of skirts, after that, and Killian turns on his heel to go find the men he needs to talk to about the perimeters of the gardens.

-x-

Perhaps it’s due to Killian’s familiarity with the undecorated ballroom that makes it feel so much more amazing to walk through the double doors at the far end the night of Emma’s birthday. He arrives early, before a majority of the guests, though some have already been escorted in and are mingling with family members and friends. Killian walks the room slowly, greeting those he knows warmly and enquiring after their health before he continues his circuit.

There are troubling tales, even at such a festive gathering, as Killian overhears stories of people gone missing, or suspected kidnappings. He listens as carefully as his slow pace permits before continuing onward. These kinds of gossip are common, especially in the quiet moments before gatherings, and even more so when there’s such terrible darkness out beyond the walls of the castle.

For ages, the Dark One has lurked in the corners of the world, and the prophecy the king mentioned comes back to him, reminding Killian that Emma is allegedly part of what could bring Rumplestiltskin, along with the whole history - centuries - of Dark Ones down.

The beginning of the ball will consist of dinner, and so tables are situated through the entirety of the room. Killian walks among those to admire the details that Queen Snow and Emma have considered. The cutlery is all sleek and plain, much like Emma prefers, as are the plates and glasses at each setting. It’ll all be cleared away for the second half of the celebration, so that the guests can all lose themselves in the dancing and music.

He rests in this moment for just a moment, his finger gliding along the handle of the nearest fork before he goes to meet with the soldiers that will be patrolling and the fairies that will be guarding them. From that moment forward, the ball gets even more opulent as the chandeliers are lit and hoisted, as all the wall sconces receive their flames. The lanterns that were lit for early mingling are shuffled away until it’s time to douse all the party lights. Killian watches all of this, nodding in approval as everything falls into place for Emma’s wonderful day.

As the ball gets underway, Killian is somehow still amazed at how busy he is the whole time. He takes one moment before the guest of honor joins, off to the side with the rest of the soldiers, to eat a quick plate of the princess’s favorite delicacies. He’s thankful for the distraction of his own assignments and that he needs to circulate amongst the guests and members of his own military; Emma’s had to spend so much time and attention on all her guests that he’s not even had a moment to say hello properly, yet.

There’s a small break in the festivities, where the guests shuffle out of the way and servants replace them to clear away the tables and chairs, and then the small chamber orchestra sets up in one corner to begin tuning their instruments. It’s the midway point in the evening, and as beautiful as it all is, and as stunning as Emma looks, he’s able to breathe a little easier that they’ve reached this point. The wavering sounds of strings being tuned echoes around the ballroom for a moment before they quiet and the first true note begins.

The first dance at the princess’s birthday always belongs to the king, but Killian takes the chance to work his way closer by presenting himself to the queen for a dance. She smiles at him, that one that borders on matronly, as he bows low and holds out his hand. With the queen’s hand in his, they make their way to the dance floor to join Emma and King David.

Emma’s smile when she spots them could light the ballroom all on its own, and as soon as the first dance ends, King David gives him a knowing look and he cuts in on Killian’s dance with Queen Snow so that Killian can dance with his daughter. Other couples begin to join, forming swirls of color much like her favorite trick with the flowers, as dresses of all colors move around the floor.

It’s the first time Killian has a chance to really get a look at her, other than flashes of red from the corner of his eye as she moved from one dignitary to the other. Up close, he admires the fine details of the embroidery on her dress and enjoys the rustling of her skirts as they go through the movements of the waltz.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight, Swan.”

She preens a little at the comment, her eyes darting downward and her lashes fluttering as she graciously accepts the compliment. “You’re looking very fine yourself, lieutenant. Have I mentioned how much I enjoy the dress uniforms?”

“I know,” he says, full cockiness in her voice to make her chuckle in response.

“I’ll have to dance with a few of my guests for a while, but save me a dance or two before the end of the evening, yes?”

“Aye, your highness, I’ll save them all for you if you’d like.” He wants to reach out and stroke the curve of her cheek, to taste her painted lips, to whisper all her deepest desires against the shell of her ear. Instead, he repeats the same low bow for her when the song ends, giving her one meaningful look before moving away to fetch himself a drink.

He’s just finished a perimeter walk and checking in with some of the guards when a broad chest interrupts his path. He almost berates whoever has just run into him, but he recognizes that coat, and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise to see Liam before him. He’d heard his brother was back but had yet to actually see him.

“Welcome home, brother,” Killian says, a smile breaking across his face as the older man pulls him into a bear hug. Killian slaps him on the back a few times, not only to further his greeting but also to remind Liam that he needs to breathe and that he’s hugging him too tight.

“Goodness, Killian. I couldn’t tell if they were feeding you too little or too much when I first saw you, but I do believe that’s all muscle you’ve put on. And here I figured since you took an assignment on land that you’d go all soft on me,” Liam says, the twinkle in his eye reminding Killian that he’s joking, but the barb still stinging just a touch.

“I may require that my mind be stronger than my body where I’m stationed, but I keep both very sharp, indeed.”

“Come, let’s talk about that positioning you suggested for the Second Armada outside of Arendelle.”

With one last furtive glance back at his princess, Killian lets himself be dragged away for talks of politics and military and naval strategy. Liam grills him on his choice to stay on land instead of going out to work his way through the ranks, and it takes a lot of patience for Killian to not talk back to his older brother in a manner unbecoming. Liam doesn’t question any more of his personal life, preferring instead to talk of life with his Armada or the rationing of treats among sailors to keep up morale.

It’s nearly half an hour before he can get back to the dance floor, back to Emma and that very fetching dress which he admires a little more each time he sees it, and when he’s able to slip in to be her next dance partner, he notices how much she perks up when she catches sight of him.

“Oh, thank goodness, it’s you. I’ve just had the most dreadful last few partners and I value my toes.”

“You’re only happy to see me so your dainty little feet don’t get squished by the uncoordinated men in attendance, then?”

“That, and because I happen to be rather fond of you,” she adds, smiling when he twirls her expertly and brings her back into the hold. “I saw you chatting with Liam earlier. Was it just me or were you wearing an expression akin to what I gather you’d look like if someone was stabbing you during the whole conversation?”

“Stabbing might have been less painful, love.”

“That bad?”

“Aye, which is why I’m much happier to be with you, right here, right now, instead of seeking out more thrilling conversations about the armada.” He’s thankful that the next dance step brings her close so he can whisper in her ear. “Plus, when we’re close like this, I can very nearly see down that dress of yours and I’m very hopeful that the black corset of yours is all lace and that I get to see more of it later.”

When the next move shifts them, Emma raises an eyebrow at him, otherwise staying silent, but he can practically hear her thoughts through that look. If he wants to find her maids mysteriously out of the way and the door to her antechamber unlocked tonight, he’d better be on his best behavior for the rest of the dance and evening or else neither of them will go to bed in good moods tonight.

“I’ll find you for the last dance of the evening,” she tells him, smiling a little as she says so and accepting his bow. “Go try to enjoy yourself a little, for the sake of my birthday?”

“Aye, your highness, I will do so.” He leaves the dance floor before anyone else can claim a dance with him, and heads back to the gardens for a breath of fresh air.

The security around the castle is impeccable, as far as he’s concerned. Every time he’s done a walk to check on them tonight, everyone has been exactly where they’re supposed to be. All the fairies, dedicated to their role in the realm, have been steadfastly homed in on making sure their dust and spells are all in order. When he’s reassured that everything they’ve carefully planned is still in place, he heads back to the party to mingle again. He tries to spend a little time with his brother, and even dedicates a little time to dancing with the ladies he’s met before, usually mothers of his favorite soldiers or friends of the royal family.

As promised, Emma appears at his side to save him from a dreadfully dull conversation about expense reports of some sort between Liam and another commodore. She’s clearly growing tired, but she’s still enjoying herself by the looks of it. She’s surprisingly affectionate for a public event, and over her shoulder, he catches sight of Liam’s questioning look. Before his brother can put any pieces together, he makes sure they pass behind a few more couples to hide them from view.

“For the record, as soon as I’m dressed for bed and my gown has been stored, I intend to send my maids away for the evening so they might have a little bit of an early night,” Emma says mid-way through the dance. “Just so you know, for security purposes, of course.”

“It’s important to know these things,” he comments, and longs to continue by teasing her, but the other couples dancing are far too close. Not only that, but another shift around a pair brings them side by side with her parents.

They both look approvingly at their daughter’s final dance partner of the evening, and he so hopes that when he sees them tomorrow, he’ll be betrothed to their daughter. The looks they give him before they spin away say they hope for it, too.

This time, when the song concludes, Killian makes sure to kiss her hand as he bows over it, making sure to whisper that he’ll be at her quarters just as soon as he can be, before they go their separate ways for the end of the celebrations. He watches a short time later as the princess is escorted back to her rooms, followed by her parents, and the ballroom clears of all the guests. He wants to make sure that the changing of the guard goes off without a problem, and he bids his brother a good night afterwards as they go to their own rooms.

Waiting for the palace to quiet down afterwards is one of the hardest things to do, and Killian has to make sure that he times it just right so that no one will be awake to question why he’s wandering towards the princess’s rooms. After what seems like too long of a time, he eases out of his room and shuts the door firmly behind himself. He has to take a roundabout way that seems to take him in the opposite direction at first, just to be certain that everyone else is where they’re supposed to be, before he heads swiftly to her chambers.

The antechamber door is, in fact, unlocked when he tries the handle. He makes sure to secure it after he enters, making his way back to her bedroom with a candle to light the way. He almost drops it as he turns from shutting the door behind himself, as Emma is lounging as casually as she can, wearing nothing but the lace corset and skirts that leave very little to his imagination.

“No, no, darling. I do believe it’s supposed to be your birthday, and I’m supposed to have a present for you. This feels quite backwards to me.”

“I’m pretty sure we can turn this into a mutual gift, so get over here already,” she commands. He sets his candle down on her nightstand to join the ones she already has lit before moving to stand in front of her. She sits up when he does, leaning into his hand as he caresses her cheek and closes her eyes. He wants to tell her so many different things right now, like how much he loves her and how beautiful and poised she looked all evening. He wants to say that there’s no way he deserves her, but that he would also possibly expire on the spot if she rejected his proposal. Thinking of the ring makes him consider getting it now, asking her now, but instead he leans down to kiss her.

Emma takes the initiative in undressing him, removing his suspenders from his shoulders and pulling his shirt from where it was tucked into his trousers. He bends to quickly remove his stockings, and marveling at the plushness of the ornate rug beneath her bed before he’s brought back to reality.

“Killian, I’d like to love you with my mouth, like you did to me. And then I want you to make love to me.”

“Darling, are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

“You said you wanted to give me a present. And this is all I can ask of you tonight.”

“Turn around, so I might help you out of that lovely undergarment, then.” She smiles at him, this one a combination of her excitement and her love for him, and he basks in the warmth that they will be irreversibly joined very soon. She stands and turns for him, unfastening the skirts from the waist of the corset and tossing them to the side. She’s forgone her own stockings, and he realizes she really wasn’t wearing anything else under the skirts when he gets his first unhindered look at her pert, perfect backside. His hands stray, briefly, to run the backs of his fingers over the smooth skin he finds there, before he focuses again on loosening the laces.

When enough of the corset is loose, she unhooks the front, letting the two halves part while her back is still turned towards him. She stands there, haloed by the glow of the candles, nothing but bare skin from the nape of her neck to the soles of her feet, and Killian isn’t sure he can breathe. This is such a monumental moment for them, and will only be overshadowed by the moment he asks her to be his wife (as soon as he can remember how to speak again) and the moment he does truly become her husband.

And then she turns toward him.

He thought he was breathless before, but she’s now standing before him, naked, and moving to remove the trousers that have become far too confining in the past couple minutes. While she eases them over his erection, he finally moves into action and yanks his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor just as he steps out of the bottoms.

While he drinks in the sights of her skin, she does the same to him, reaching out to touch his chest in awe, to run her fingers down the hair she finds there, until her palm is closing around his cock and he can see stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Killian,” she calls to him softly. “Touch me.”

He opens his eyes to see the lust burning in hers, and he starts by tentatively reaching out to cup one of her breasts, marveling in the way it feels and the taut nipple pushing against his palm. She pushes into the contact, moaning as he gently massages and brings up his other hand to do the same to both at once.

She lets him keep up at that for a few minutes, with her fingers gliding up and down the length of him in a featherlight touch, until she guides him back to her bed. She kneels on the mattress, but when he tries to sit up, she pushes him back and instructs him how she wants him to lay. Once he’s in position, Emma seems to steady herself before she reaches for his cock again.

“You’ll tell me how you like it?”

He can’t verbalize, not when her breath is blowing across the head of him, so he nods and watches with wide eyes as she eases the foreskin down his shaft and closes her mouth around the tip.

“Bloody hell, Emma,” he whispers, because it’s the only volume his voice can reach that doesn’t sound like he’s shouting in pleasure in his own mind. She hums around him, and he quickly tries to think of anything to stave off the orgasm that’s edging up on him. “Emma, Emma my love, you can’t – I can’t…” He’s on the brink of climax from having his cock in her mouth for less than a full minute and if he doesn’t stop her now, this evening will end rather quickly. And he’s so been working on longevity during his private pleasure times, too. All wasted, in the face of reality.

He shifts, careful to ease her away from his delicate part before putting her in the same position he was just in. She looks adorably befuddled, but also worried, so he moves to quickly reassure her.

“It felt too good, Swan. I wanted to be able to last for the rest of your requests, and I can’t do that when your mouth feels like heaven. Where on earth did you learn to do that wondrous thing with your tongue?”

“I practiced kissing once I was old enough with the maids of mine that are also my age.” His eyes widen at this information, but she smirks at him. “Don’t act so scandalized. You practiced kissing with my maids once or twice, as well. Anyway, they’ve given me great amounts of advice on how to please both ladies and men.”

He shakes his head, marveled as always at this intrepid princess that he fears he may always be two steps behind. With no further response to really give, he turns back to the idea of bringing them both pleasure, and decides to revisit what he tried on her yesterday.

“Killian…” His name melts on her tongue as he makes his way back down her body, stopping to kiss and love her breasts for a moment now that there’s nothing hindering him from doing so.

“Hush, love,” he speaks as he trails kisses down her stomach. “This will allow me to give you the gift you’ve requested once I’ve calmed my blood a little.”

She tastes sweeter today than she did yesterday, and he eases her thighs further apart as he dips his tongue into her. He brings his hand up to rub at her clit, incredibly glad for whichever lad it was that told them all of the pleasurable spot to ensure a woman orgasmed. He must move in the correct combination because Emma arches off the bed with a gasp, the moan that follows much more wanton than he’s ever heard in their months of tentative exploration.

Without breaking contact for long, he trails a finger down to slip inside while he moves to focus his lips on her clit this time. He finds a rhythm that she seems to appreciate, with the way her hips thrust against his mouth in time. As best he can without stopping, Killian looks up the length of her body, feeling his own arousal renewed at the way her hands massage at her own breasts, the way her head tilts back into the mattress as she makes noises that urge him to keep going. Knowing she’s about to scold him for stopping, he does so anyway, only to slide up the length of her body to kiss her.

“Are you positive you want to, Emma?”

“I’m sure,” she says, nodding. He sees the lust in her eyes, but he also sees the love she’s not spoken of yet.

In preparation, he adds another finger to the one that was already working in and out of her. He just doesn’t want to hurt her. By the looks of it, though, especially with the flush that spreads down her chest, he’s fairly certain she doesn’t know what pain is right now. Regardless, he makes sure when he replaces his fingers with the tip of his penis that he goes as slow as he can without diminishing their pleasure.

He’s barely fully sunk into her when he feels his climax building again, and it doesn’t help when Emma clenches around him. They both react to that – Emma with praise for how good he feels and Killian with obscenities at how he’ll surely die before this is over.

“I don’t care if you last long tonight, Killian. I’m so close. We’re both so close. Move and touch me and let go.” Sure enough, she’s covered in a sheen of sweat, one that has little to do with exertion and more to do with being so close to climax for far too long, especially if she was as aroused as he was when he entered her room.

He moves – slow, deep thrusts that get harder as he gets surer that he’s not hurting her in any way. He knows he’s not when Emma reaches down to grab his backside, guiding him in again and again. He remembers what else she said, working a hand between them and finding her clit with sure fingers to bring her over the edge. When she pulls him down roughly and holds him in place, he lets her take what she needs, bending to kiss her when she asks him to.

Feeling her come around his cock is an entirely different experience than feeling it around his fingers. As soon as her climax begins, it sets off his, and he sucks in a breath and holds it as he presses into her. His face gets buried in her hair and it’s only once she starts to come down from her own that Emma reminds him to breathe as her hands slide up along his spine.

The air whooshes out of him, and he groans as an aftershock of hers causes one of his own. It’s so tempting to let himself collapse on her, but he remembers that he likes her alive and not smothered, so he rolls off to the side.

They both remain immobile for a minute, their panting breaths echoing around the large room as the sweat dries on their skin. She rolls to him, then, her bare breasts pressed against his chest as she drapes herself over him, and she kisses him long and deep.

“That may be the best birthday gift I’ve ever received,” she tells him once she pulls away.

“It’ll supposedly get better once it can last longer,” he comments, enjoying the way she laughs as she moves off the bed to retrieve a towel she had folded on a nearby settee. Once she’s cleaned herself, she runs it over his softened cock to clean up some of the mess before balling it up and hiding it at the bottom of her dirty clothes. She fetches a clean nightgown for herself while Killian turns down the bed for them, figuring it’s the least he can do at this point. He considers proposing before they turn in for the night, but when Emma climbs back onto the bed, he can see the exhaustion pulling her down.

In the morning – he can make her breakfast and propose in the morning.

For now, he climbs in next to her and pulls the covers over them both. Before sleep can claim them, he remembers to wish Emma a very happy birthday, and whispers his love to her as she closes her eyes.

“So perfect,” she reiterates, murmuring her gratitude in return. He’d be offended if he didn’t know her so well to know she’s awful at expressing her emotions in words. Instead, she curls even closer to him, placing a kiss on the nearest skin she finds before drifting off to sleep.

Killian wakes before she does, with the sun filtering through the doors to her private balcony and just lighting upon Emma’s sleeping features. They’re still close – not as fully fitted together as they were when they fell asleep, but his hand is trapped between their pillows by Emma’s hand. He doesn’t mean to wake her, but she stirs as soon as he shifts his hand, and she scoots closer to relinquish his hand in favor of wrapping her arms around him instead.

“Good morning, my pirate,” she says in greeting, and he smiles down at her.

“And good morning to you, my princess.” She accepts the kiss he gives her, sighing happily as their lips move against each other. Her hand wanders across his bare chest, and he watches the cogs turn in her head as she considers his still-nude state. “Ah, ah. No, my love. You still need some rest. I’m going to make you breakfast, however, and bring it to you here and as soon as you’re nourished, you can think about ravishing me within an inch of my life again, aye?”

“Oh fine,” she responds, but it’s barely more than another sigh as she snuggles against him. “Just stay with me until I fall back to sleep, though.”

“Of course, Swan.”

She takes one more kiss from him before settling back down against her pillows. He waits until her breathing evens out before carefully extracting himself from the covers. He tucks them back around her, making sure she’s warm and safe before he re-dresses in the clothes he wore last night.

The palace is still asleep, so he makes his way back to his quarters with no issue at all, ducking into his chambers and heading straight for his dressing room. He catches sight of himself in the mirror when he enters, his grin wide on his face as he takes in the disarrayed hair and the stubble coming in. He rubs a hand over his face, considering shaving before heading to the kitchens but deciding it can wait.

He shucks his dirty clothes and pulls on fresh, making sure to comb his hair and clean his teeth before he retrieves the ring and makes off for the kitchen. Some of the staff are likely to be awake, which means he won’t be making an utter fool of himself in an attempt to cook, which actually calms him from the nerves that have built over his plan.

If any of them are surprised to see him, they don’t show it. But they happily take the gold he offers in exchange for setting up a beautiful breakfast setting for the princess. They all buzz with excitement when he pulls the pouch from his pocket, and they all help arrange the ring in such a manner that the food surrounds but doesn’t touch it. The plate is topped with a cover to keep everything warm, and then they all but push him out the door so they can start spreading their gossip about the princess being engaged.

Between the kitchen and the princess’s rooms, Killian counts his steps and his blessings, fully sure that he could spend one, maybe even two, hundred years on this earth and still not love anyone as much as he loves Emma. With careful maneuvering, Killian gets through the door to the antechamber and shoulders his way through the door he propped open when he left.

Surprisingly, the bed is empty, and Killian surmises that she may have woken up to relieve herself. Perhaps she woke and decided to dress herself – one of her favorite activities when she gives the maids a day off. But when he sets the tray of food down and goes looking for her, he finds each room empty. She only managed to throw her corset in the vicinity of her dressing room the night before, and nothing else in there has been moved. He places a hand on the sheets where he left her and finds they’re still warm, so she couldn’t have gotten far.

Outside, the sun goes behind a scattering of clouds, with the wind gusting beyond the doors. One of them creaks a little, which catches Killian’s attention immediately. They kept those closed and locked the night before. He rushes over, seeing the broken hinge immediately and starting to worry. He turns back to the bed, his eyes a little wild, his mind racing a little faster.

The clouds move away, and the sun shines back through the windows at his back. The sun catches something, and Killian moves forward, feeling as if he’s suddenly moving below water as he reaches out for the glistening strand on the pillow where Emma so recently smiled lovingly at him.

It’s gold. It’s a single strand of pure, spun gold, the signature mark of a madman. He barely has time to consider his next move beyond waking the castle and sounding the alarm. He stands in place, clenching and unclenching his fists, maiming the strand in his hand as he does so, and then his limbs finally catch up with his brain.

The guards outside the doors to the king and queen’s chambers are understandably alarmed as Killian comes running around the corner, but when he gets close enough, he tries to slow and calm the blind panic and anger coursing through him.

“Are the king and queen awake? It’s the princess.”

Both of their faces show alarm at the news and one immediately ducks through one of the double doors to report. Killian is waved in a moment later, just as Queen Snow is tying the sash to her robe and joining where King David is already situated with various parchments.

“Killian, what’s happened?”

“She’s gone,” he says, holding out the crumpled strand of gold to them and trying to maintain his composure. He wants to scream, or cry, or find a sorcerer to take him to Emma right this second, but he can’t do anything without knowing what course of action they want to take next.

King David lifts the strand, his face hardening at the evidence, while Queen Snow covers her mouth with her hand and her eyes well up with tears.

“David, our Emma. We have to find her.”

“We will, Snow. We will,” he says, determination strong in his voice as he shoves aside the reports he was reviewing and grabs several blank scrolls to send out as messages.

“Killian, I need you to go wake your brother. We’ll need both of you to round up as many men as you can to start searching. If he was able to break in, maybe he couldn’t use magic and they’re still in the area. But we have to move fast. Go now,” the king urges, and Killian immediately turns on his heels to follow his orders.

Liam is just pulling on his boots when Killian practically bursts through his door with barely a knock, and he gives his brother a very pared down version of what’s going on to get him moving quicker. They make their way back to the strategy room to receive their next assignment.

“We’re in the process of sending messages to our neighboring kingdoms for assistance, and to keep their eyes open for any possibility that he’s had to take her without using magic. All our best trackers are out there already, but I want every inch of the kingdom searched. Commodore Jones, I want you to assemble as many of your men as you can to start searching the northeast corner of the village and woods. Take your brother with you.”

He moves on to the next commodore and then to the captains after that, which leaves Killian bristling just slightly that he’s been tossed in under his brother’s command, not even with his own captain, instead of being seen as the man that was about to ask the king’s daughter to marry him. He can’t even fuss about it, however, as Liam ushers him from the room to gather the men and start their search.

It takes less than an hour for every military man, every castle civilian, and every volunteer they could round up to be searching the entire kingdom. They fan out, going door to door to either ask for clues or ask for them to join the search. They comb the woods, inspecting every bent leaf and broken branch.

Half of Killian is glad to be moving, glad to be keeping busy, but shortly after they begin their campaign to find Emma, Liam is called back to launch a portion of his armada to go to other kingdoms. He takes the news in stride, redoubling his efforts and almost refusing to turn in for the night when they start losing daylight. He has to be verbally reprimanded by his captain, reminding Killian that he’ll be of no use to the kingdom if he freezes to death overnight or injures himself without light to search by.

He tries to go back to his own room, first, but he ends up in Emma’s when that’s where his feet carry him. The lady’s maids have been through the room after it was turned upside-down for any other clues. The bedding has been replaced, the bedding they made love on for the first time less that a full night ago. Her corset and wardrobe are tidy, but the tray of food that he set down is still there, and Killian realizes that there’s no cushion to break the fall that’s about to take place.

Lifting the lid slowly, there’s the ruined breakfast, with the ring still pristine in the center. He lifts it, feeling his heart clench in pain in his chest as he stares at it in the low light of the candle he brought and the last of daylight beyond the windows.

The sun will rise on an empty room tomorrow.

“Killian?” He turns quickly at the soft-spoken voice, but it’s not his beloved magically returned. It’s Queen Snow, standing at the doorway and looking lost and bereft. Her chin quivers as she sees what he’s holding, and she slowly strides toward him with a silent request to see it. He doesn’t speak, just holds it out for her to take as he swallows hard, swallows back the tears that are now threatening to break free.

“I will find her,” he promises, his voice barely more than a growl.

“We will,” Queen Snow echoes, looking sadly down at the gem in her hand. “We just need to be patient.”

“I was gone barely a half of an hour,” he tells her. The fight drains out of him, then, and he drops onto the closest chair. “I shouldn’t have –“ He realizes what he’s said, and what he was about to say, just a moment too late, but the queen doesn’t look offended to know that he spent the night with her daughter.

“You couldn’t have stopped him. He’d have found a way to get past us eventually.” She places her palm on Killian’s shoulder, a gesture to comfort a son, and he fights harder to keep his composure. The queen needs strength right now, not to hold him together.

“May I ask a favor, your majesty?”

She nods once, also clearly trying to hold back her emotions.

“Would you mind holding onto that, until I can find her and bring her home to you?”

“Oh, Killian…”

“Please. I’d rather it be somewhere safe, and it’s only fair since the ring she has is yours instead of mine.”

At that, Snow’s lips barely crack into a smile. “I was sure that I’d be getting that back this evening. You know she’d never have kept it if she was showing off yours.”

“Aye,” Killian agrees, feeling that tightness in his chest all over again. “I know.”

“Try to get some rest. The maids have a special tea blend to help you sleep if you need the assistance tonight. I’ll have one of them take away this tray.”

“I’ll carry it down,” he tells her, waving her off from touching it. “I just want another moment before I retire for the evening, if that’s all right with you.”

Instead of a response, Queen Snow reaches out and pats his shoulder again, only bidding him a goodnight when she reaches the door so he can only slightly make out that her voice is breaking when she says it.

He hangs his head when he’s alone again, trying to rein in his emotions, tamp down the anger that boils hot in his blood, swallow down the panic that he’ll never see his almost-betrothed ever again.

“I promise to find you, Emma. No matter what it takes.”

-x-

Nearly a month into their searches, they recall the military forces out in the realm and order them home. Killian is beyond frustrated at this point, knowing that they all know it’s the Dark One and that he certainly wouldn’t be hiding in some bloody village right under their noses. The only clue they ever found was in the southwest quadrant of the woods, where a scrap of what could’ve been Emma’s nightgown was found on a bramble bush. There were no other signs that she might still be anywhere nearby.

In that time, Killian becomes more vocal about his doubts that this will lead to any breakthroughs in finding the princess. He becomes belligerent on more than one occasion, leading to a meeting with the king and queen so very different from the ones he’s ever had with them.

“Killian,” Queen Snow says gently. “We’re getting disturbing reports back from your captain about your recent behavior.”

“We know this is exasperating, waiting for news and hoping for results, but it is the best way to look for Emma right now. We have eyes and ears all over this kingdom, and several others, all looking for the same purpose. We just have to wait for him to slip up.”

“He’s the bloody Dark One. Don’t you get it? He’s not going to slip up because he knows the game better than we do!”

“Killian!” The king almost sounds scandalized, as Killian has never raised his voice at them, has never spoken so candidly to them before. And never has he sounded so defeated, either. “You are a lieutenant in the navy under your captain’s command. And if that’s not good enough, then it’s under my command. I need you to be doing your job and not squabbling with every superior you come across. Do you understand me?”

There’s a war over his emotions for a moment. There’s some shame, that he spoke to the man and woman who have only ever cared for him in such a manner. But he never had a father, and he isn’t looking for one now. Still, despite the comment that wants to come out at David’s tone, Killian holds back and steels himself.

“Aye, your majesty.” He salutes, not meeting either of their gazes as he exits the room. He nearly knocks Liam over on his way back to his quarters.

“Slow down, little brother,” Liam says, a gentle but genial smile on his face. Killian scowls, a combination of the pet name and his brother’s ability to smile about anything right now.

“It’s younger brother, and I’m retiring for the evening.”

“It’s the middle of the day, Killian. Why – hey! Come back!” Despite Killian’s attempt to exude his unwillingness for company, Liam follows him, going so far as to push into his room and shut the door behind them. “What the blazes is your problem, Killian?”

“My problem? The princess is missing. She’s been kidnapped by the vilest man in the realm, and we aren’t trying hard enough to find her. That is my problem,” Killian snaps, removing his jacket and whipping it towards his wardrobe.

“The king and queen are using every resource available to find their daughter. You know how much she means to them. They wouldn’t cut any corners where she’s concerned. Why – Killian, calm down, brother. Why are you so worked up about this?” Liam just barely manages to dodge one of the boots that Killian sends sailing across the room, followed by the other.

“I was about to ask her to marry me!” Killian finally yells. “And not in a couple days, or a couple hours, Liam, I was on my way back to her room with the bloody ring.”

Silence falls over the room after his outburst, and Killian sinks onto the foot of his bed. He runs a hand through his hair, scrubs them both over his face as the full weight of the last month sinks into his bones and soaks up his dwindling hope.

“Killian, I didn’t… I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?” Liam’s voice is quiet and serious when he asks.

“When should I have told you, brother? In a letter sent to your ship with the monthly reports? Or how about when you were shrugging off your leave? You’ve barely been around since making commodore, and there was no good time. Even at the ball you wanted to talk about my strategy moves and rations.”

Liam moves slowly to sit next to him, folding his hands in his lap as he looks at his brother. “You should’ve said something sooner,” he says, and Killian immediately stands in agitation.

“Oh yes, because that would’ve gone over well. Tell me, Liam, how you would’ve reacted if I told you six years ago when this all began that I was in love with the princess and wanted to vie for her affections?”

“I would’ve said you’re bloody stupid, but to go after whatever it is you wanted.”

“Even at the expense of my military career?”

Liam sits back and thinks about that, and Killian can see it all coming together in his mind. “The strategy position kept you in the castle. You could’ve been out captaining a ship and making twice as much already,” Liam says, as if Killian didn’t already know this.

“I don’t give a damn about the money, you fool. I care about Emma.”

“Princess Emma,” Liam commands, and Killian grits his teeth.

“She’s Emma to me, as she’s been for many a year while we’re alone. You can’t come back here and expect to suddenly control me. You’re not my commodore, Liam. I’m barely even your brother at this point. Just some lieutenant you’re in charge of at times, and nothing else.

Liam stands, suddenly, marching straight for the door with anger puffing out his chest. “Sod off, little brother. You’re not the only one who has feelings around here, and maybe it would do you good to remember that.”

He slams the door when he leaves, and Killian is only disappointed because he would’ve enjoyed applying force to something other than his uniform at this moment.

The next morning, he’s summoned to the king and queen’s antechamber again, and his stomach sinks when he walks in to see Liam in attendance, as well.

“Your majesties, Commodore Jones.” He bows to each of them in turn. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Snow sends a worried glance to David and Liam, but remains silent.

“We’ve decided that you’re to be suspended from the navy until such a time that you can learn to follow orders again. You are commanded to stay out of the strategy room for a length no shorter than one month,” David says, his face set in stone as he speaks. Liam turns away when Killian looks at him, opting instead to gaze out the window at the back of the ante-chamber as snow begins to fall outside.

He seethes inside. “Liam, what did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything, Lieutenant.” Calling him by rank after telling him he’s suspended is a slap to the face, especially when they’ve always called him by name. David takes a deep breath. “You’ve hounded our advisors and told them they aren’t looking in the right places. You’ve taken liberties with authority figures lately. You’ve spoken to a commodore with absolutely no respect. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Killian stands perfectly still. He doesn’t look at Snow, whose eyes are pleading with him to say anything to make the situation better. He doesn’t glance again at Liam, who has still not turned his attention from the window. His jaw clenches and he averts his eyes to look somewhere over the shoulder of a man whom has always received his respect. Instead of answering any of them, he bows low and turns to leave.

“Killian, wait,” Snow calls out, but he’s out the door and doesn’t stop until the door to his rooms is barricaded shut.

It takes him less than two days to formulate his plans. He works around the clock, sleeping in shifts so he’ll have the energy to enact his idea once it’s time, and otherwise staying locked away. Someone from the kitchen always delivers his meals, but he never opens the door for them, preferring instead to wait until they’ve given up and left the tray beyond the door.

On the third day after his suspension, the food is delivered, but when they come again at lunch, the untouched tray is still sitting out in the hall. They find the note addressed to Snow after they’ve had to break down the door, and all it says is “Keep it safe for me.”

When she receives the note, she shakes her head, a broken chuckle coming from her as she folds it and holds it to her chest. She’s not even surprised when a captain reports that the Jewel of the Realm, his brother’s favorite ship, has been commandeered overnight.

By the time it’s reported to the king and queen that a ship has gone missing, Killian has managed to make it a considerable distance away from the shore. The Jewel is the fastest ship they have, and even the second fastest won’t be able to catch him with the lead he has. With a ragtag group of men he managed to hire in the shortest time possible, Killian has officially claimed himself captain, and their first order of business is to get as far from Misthaven as they possibly can.

“If you see a ship, men, you alert your captain and we will take what we desire. But no harm shall come to any crew we encounter, do you understand?”

A chorus of men all respond at once, “Yes, Captain!”

“Good. You’ll all make a fine crew aboard this ship, and you’ll have more riches than you know what to do with in no time at all. Let’s get this vessel in order and be our own masters!”

With the men cheering on deck, Killian takes the helm, his fists closing around the handles on the wheel as he steers them towards his own destiny.

Chapter 3

[impracticaldemon]

Nalu Fluff Week 2017 Within the Law Chapter 3: Lawful Tresspass

fanfiction by impracticaldemon

Author's Note:

This is the final chapter for Within the Law. This chapter is packed with flirtation, love, lust, raw emotion and thwarted need. Also, legal terms.

Hope it's fun!   ~Impracticaldemon

Lawful Trespass Prompts: Texting; Fairy Tales (at least in concept if not final design)

Lucy's interview with Makarov & Vermilion—the law firm also known as Fairy Tail—had been on the Wednesday. When she'd gotten home that evening, she'd had no difficulty avoiding questions, since her father was at work, as usual, and the servants were all very much on her side and knew where she'd been. Not that they had a huge staff, but even four people seemed like an awful lot for a family of two adults and no small children.

That night, after eating a solitary dinner while trying to catch up on some reading for class, Lucy couldn't seem to focus on anything. The people at Fairy Tail had fully caught her attention, and they were far more interesting than what she was studying. She finally left her Trusts text book open at "constructive trusts"—the case law seemed to be all over the map, as the courts had gotten especially creative with this one—and threw herself down on her bed to stare at her comms lacrima.

You were speaking with him four hours ago. What on earth is wrong with you?

It was strange—she felt like she was fourteen crushing on a guy two grades up, not a competent young woman of twenty-three with one university degree already behind her. Her eyes traced a familiar pattern above her. When she was much younger, she and her mother had painted the stars making up the constellations of the Zodiac on her ceiling in phosphorescent paint. Lucy couldn't actually make out much right now, since she had lights on, but it didn't matter—she knew them all by heart.

The lacrima in her hands chimed, indicating a text message. Her eyes went wide when she saw the sender: Grand Moff Dragneel. She snickered at the name, but her stomach did an odd kind of squeeze-hop.

)Hey there! )Did you make it home okay? )So are you there or what?

Lucy scrambled to sit up and send back a quick affirmative.

)Great! Look there's something I've got to tell you. )Erza and Gray both reminded me. )Forgot you didn't know. Anyway I'm here now can I come in?

Lucy stared at the last few words.

)Lucy? Back window seemed best.

She ran to one of her two bedroom windows and looked out—and down. Now-familiar cotton-candy hair looked almost white in the intermittent light of the moon. Natsu raised an arm and waved. Lucy unbolted and opened the window. Then she shook her head and raised her lacrima in order to send another text.

)Natsu what are—

She never got to send her text. Somehow—she had no idea how—Natsu quickly scrambled up the fieldstone exterior of the house and swung himself in the window. He grinned at her as though guys climbed thirty-foot walls like that all the time.

"Hey cool—nice room!"

Lucy backed away slowly, lacrima clutched tightly in one hand.

"Natsu. What the hell?"

Something in the way she said his name got through to him. He stopped moving and stood awkwardly just inside the window. Lucy examined him closely, but there was nothing especially weird about him. Cargo pants hugged his hips and then fell loosely to meet black canvas sandals—and how on earth had he climbed in those? His tight navy t-shirt outlined a muscular chest and showed off a flat, well-defined stomach and strong arms. I should be freaking out right now, not… staring wistfully.

Natsu scrubbed the back of his head. "Right, right, sorry. Yeah, um… okay. This isn't usually my thing, you know?"

"Which part?" Lucy asked dryly. "The vertical ascent—and possible unlawful entry—or something else?"

Her guest (or possible trespasser), laughed. "Hey yeah, I guess I should've asked if I could come in, huh?" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, it's nice to meet somebody who knows the difference between unlawful trespass and break-and-enter. People watch way too many American cop shows."

"Technically, you could be charged with home invasion," Lucy replied, "since you knew I was here."

"Maybe," Natsu conceded, "but you'd have a hell of a time showing that I entered with any intention to commit an indictable offence—"

"We still haven't even established whether you broke in, let alone your reason for breaking in. I mean, I opened the window voluntarily when you announced your presence. Though I'd argue that I didn't expect you to be able to scale the wall, so it's not the same as opening a door."

"But—no, never mind. Anyway, isn't the whole home invasion thing more of a factor in sentencing—like, it aggravates the crime?"

Lucy considered briefly, but her knowledge of criminal law was starting to fail her. Still, her memory was exceptional, and they'd covered the topic at some length at the end of first year. Murder might be more exciting, but a future client was a lot more likely to be charged with assault, or break-and-enter.

"I think you're right. But you may still be unlawfully in a dwelling-house."

"Still requires intent to commit an offence."

"Presumption of intention of commit an offence goes along with the break and enter …or just being there unlawfully."

"Rebuttable."

"Oh for crying out loud, Natsu!"

"Oh?" The pink-haired man took a step further into the room and put his hands on his hips. "Does this mean that you're conceding the case, counsel?"

"Give me a break! First—no. Second—what case? Third—you specialize in corporate law, which we both know isn't nearly as exciting as it sounds! You're an expert on voting rights for minor shareholders, not some kind of, of pink-haired Perry Mason! When is the last time you even opened the Criminal Code?"

"In reverse order, Ms. Heartfilia," purred Natsu, eyes gleaming, "just last week; don't mock Perry Mason—even if he's at least fifty years out of date, fictional, and American; so what?; your case against me for breaking and entering (or maybe unlawful trespass with intent); and finally, where's your proof beyond a reasonable doubt?"

Lucy stamped her foot, torn between annoyance and growing amusement. "What case?!" Then she added quickly—because she was a sucker for a debate—"But just to make it clear: please leave immediately. Ha! Now, if you stay, you will clearly be unlawfully within this dwelling, since you have no right to be here. And that means that you are now presumed to be here with intent to commit an offence."

"Aw, Lucy, no fair!" Natsu hopped up onto the window sill. "It was just getting fun. Do you really want me to leave?"

Lucy shook her head, set down her lacrima, and gestured him back inside. Was that some kind of weird flirting or something? Because… it was fun and just very slightly sexy, which makes no sense. She pulled her desk chair around and sat down. "I'm still confused, so don't get too much closer unless I tell you it's okay. Why are you so up on basic criminal law anyway?"

Natsu looked slightly sheepish, but snagged a handsome leather pouffe and perched on top of it like a very unusual Little Miss Muffett (though not one who would be afraid of spiders, and minus the curds and whey). "I'd rather not go into that right now," he said loftily.

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Is this the part where I say 'Curiouser and curiouser?'"

"Um, give me a minute." Natsu frowned slightly.

"You know Perry Mason but not Alice in Wonderland?!"

"I was getting there!"

"So you and Gray are both into old-time detectives and mysteries? I mean—Poirot? Isn't that what you called Gray earlier? How many people know Agatha Christie these days?"

"The shows were pretty popular for a while," muttered Natsu. "Besides, it's obvious that you know them too."

Lucy sighed. "I read… a lot." She wanted to ask, What's your excuse? Hot young lawyers don't sit at home reading the classics—do they?

Natsu had obviously lost track of the conversation. He was staring at a display case. "Wow… is that a—"

"Yes."

"Signed?"

"The card is. By George Lucas and Mark Hamill."

"You have an original, signed light-saber? I thought that was impossible!"

Lucy shifted uncomfortably. Her father was very, very wealthy. It had been an amazing gift, and she did treasure it—but she'd wanted something from Carrie Fischer. Princess Leia had been her idol, even though the original Star Wars movies had first aired long before Lucy was born. However, she was pretty sure that her father had delegated the purchase of a suitable eighteenth birthday present to one of his staff. She couldn't blame whoever it was for not knowing her very well, given their boss' temper when it came to "fraternizing" with his daughter. Besides, it was a light saber. Her father probably would have chosen jewelry.

"Just lucky I guess," she temporized.

Natsu started to look around the room with more interest than he had before. When he started skimming her book titles, she cleared her throat.

"Natsu—did you really come here to discuss Star Wars?"

"I would have if I'd known!"

"… Really not the point."

"Oh right." He turned and gave her a serious look. "Um, this is going to sound weird, okay? But Erza—"

"—and Gray—" murmured Lucy, remembering his original texts.

"—thought you might wonder."

This was getting annoying. "Natsu, spit it out. Is the firm a front for drug smuggling? Money laundering? Arms peddling? Cheating the tax system—well, any more than most?"

Natsu's eyes grew wider and rounder with each preposterous solution. "No! Of course not! And my clients know that although I set up, um, tax-efficient corporate structures, I'll never get them into tax avoidance problems, let alone tax evasion!" He paused, considering, and Lucy waited, her earlier annoyance having faded into a strong desire to giggle.

"The thing is," her odd visitor said slowly, "our clients find out pretty fast what we will and won't do. We're not afraid of a challenge, but if we think a client is screwing around with the law, then they become an ex-client pretty fast. Especially if they just want our firm's name on a few deals to make them look more like upstanding citizens. Anyway, not many people can stand up to Erza when she's mad." Natsu's grin suddenly returned. "She's had to deal with some pretty strange characters, but somehow we always keep our retainer, even when we cut them loose."

Lucy was intrigued. "You mean that when the drug dealers try to get M&V to set up a structure for their money laundering—or even for a legit deal just to get some credibility—you somehow find out who they are and send them packing? And keep the initial fee?"

"Well sure. Gray's gotta be good for something, even if he is a seriously nerdy guy."

"Says the man with a 'Type A' original release Star Wars poster," Lucy teased.

Natsu turned slightly pink, but laughed. "Well yeah, but Star Wars is cool, right? Gray's into computers and gaming and stuff."

"I've been known to play video games," Lucy told him haughtily.

"Okay, but I'll bet you play stuff like MarioKart and maybe some Legend of Zelda—you seem like you'd be into Link, somehow."

Lucy reddened. "What do you mean, 'into'? Yes, I like MarioKart and yes I like Legend of Zelda—so what? They're good games. I used to play a lot of the Fire Emblem stuff too, for that matter. I haven't actually played much of anything lately though because of my—" Lucy stopped short. She'd almost told Natsu about her book. What was it about this guy? "...Because of my courses."

Natsu had been nodding affably. There he was, sitting cross-legged on something that looked like somebody had turned a Jigglypuff into a soft, round footstool—an awful thought, but then again, at least Natsu matched!—and, and… Lucy cursed her brain. Normally she could be calm and logical when presented with strange situations. But an attractive guy with pink hair sitting on her favourite pink pouffe and talking law with her—apparently she had an unknown weakness. When was the last time she'd wanted to kiss somebody?

"The point is," her weakness said at that moment, since she'd stopped talking, "that you like Nintendo. See? I had you pegged for a Nintendo girl."

"Ugh. It's dumb to generalize like that."

"Okay, fine, but hear me out. I'm not saying that Gray doesn't play Nintendo, because he does—there isn't much he doesn't play, because he's a competitive bastard."

"Whereas you would never play any of his favourite games just so you could beat him," Lucy slid in smoothly.

"Right—what?" Natsu looked completely taken aback, and then shook his head at her. "That was—"

"Slick? Accurate? A brilliant character analysis?"

"Stop i!" Natsu put his hands over his ears and pretended to pout. It didn't last long. "Fine, okay? Maybe. But—"

"Look, are you ever going to tell me what Erza said to tell me? Because, you know, school tomorrow and… stuff."

"My point is that Gray plays those online multiplayer games where you pick some dorky fantasy or sci-fi guy and go beat on people. I mean, that's geeky, am I right?"

Lucy crossed over to Natsu and sat down in front of him. She was going to pretend that she'd done it on purpose to scold him, but the truth was that it had been half-unconscious.

"Natsu," she said, looking up into his green-grey eyes with a serious expression. "Look me in the face and tell me that you don't play Overwatch. Tell me that you have never spent hours figuring out exactly how to beat whatever character Gray likes best." She leaned closer to him and raised her eyebrows. "Well? On your honour as somebody who has collected all of the key Star Wars miniatures and probably has the AT-AT sitting in his living room on an end table instead a bowl of fruit."

There was a noticeable flush of red high on Natsu's cheekbones.

"Wow," he said, "you're good. And of course I can beat Gray at his dumb online games—sometimes, anyway. Maybe not at League of Legends unless I'm lucky and he has a lousy team. But did you see how much money those guys make these days?"

"Yeah, even my father's taken an interest—strictly from the perspective of exploiting the heck out of it of course. But now I want to know two things. One, what are you here to tell me?!" Natsu winced, and Lucy realized she'd spoken rather loudly. "And two, when do you guys ever, you know, work?"

"Oh it all sorts itself out," said Natsu airily. "Besides Gray had to agree to a percent—" he stopped abruptly.

"A percentage? Of what?"

Natsu waved his hands a little frantically, "Um, I wasn't supposed to mention that. So, about why I came?"

"A percentage? Come on Natsu… I'll die of curiosity… He looks so serious but it turns out he has a stripping habit and can play League like a pro—wait, that's not it is it? And is the Law Society okay with it?"

Lucy felt Natsu's warm hands on either cheek, and he lowered his face toward hers. She almost forgot to breathe. Why am I okay with this?

"You're really amazing Lucy. I've known it for a while now."

"For… a while?"

"Yeah. For example," the green-grey eyes flickered to her desk. "I know that you write late into the night, after you put your law books away. I know that you're always kind to people, even when you're having a bad day. I know that you forgive people, even when they hurt you."

Lucy pulled away from Natsu hands. She felt a combination of angry and afraid and… very confused.

"Natsu, what the hell? And it had better be good, because you're freaking me out and I'm seriously contemplating calling the police."

"Right, right… I'm sorry! I have personal space issues, according to Erza."

"Some people call it stalking, Natsu."

"No, no! Nothing like that! Honest! Argh - wait!"

He seemed genuinely upset, so Lucy stayed where she was.

"Make it good. Don't mention Star Wars, books, or games …or Gray, unless he's the one who told you to spy on me."

"No, that was gramps."

"The senior partner of M&V—Makarov Dreyar? He got you to spy on me?"

"Yeah. Well, he did say we'd been keeping an eye on you, right? See, supposedly your mum used to be pretty involved with the firm and its founding members—like, a protégée of Makarov's, you know?"

"No… I didn't know." Another thing her father hadn't told her?

"Oh. Okay then. Well, she gave it all up to marry your dad. According to gramps, they really might have, you know, loved each other, but it really wasn't a great fit. Unfortunately, their families were all for it, especially his. I think there must have been something funny about the whole set-up, but gramps won't talk about it. All I know is that he had Gray keep an eye on the Heartfilia companies—well, once Gray knew how. I mean, not even the Ice Princess was born knowing how to dig up the goods on a multinational organization that has limited partnerships holding shell companies holding blind trusts."

"I take it he's good at it now?" Lucy asked the question just to be polite. She disliked talking about her family, especially her parents. She was feeling… sad.

"Yeah. I'm no slouch either, of course. Took both of us—and some, um, judicious pressure by Erza on the right people—to get a good picture of things."

"And is any of that relevant right now?"

"Well, yeah… because, um, Fairy Tail has kind of an unusual structure."

"Uh-huh."

"We're all partners."

"Wait—seriously?! That just can't be financially viable! And why doesn't anybody know that? And what about the Law Society?"

Natsu shrugged, and Lucy could tell that he was honestly disinterested in what the Law Society thought. "Basically, profit is a factor for us, but it's not the main one. Whether a firm has all partners, or partners and associates is just a question of business model and profit-sharing, right? Thing is, when Makarov told you that we're like family, it was true. That's how it is. Some people work harder than others and earn more—that's no different from a regular firm that has the partners vote on bonuses, right? Some people are allowed more of the profits than others because of seniority, or special duties… Anyway, people don't leave too often."

Lucy was silent, still trying to get her head around a large firm with all partners and no associates. You'd really have to trust your partners, she decided.

"But my mother left?" she prodded at last, when Natsu didn't continue.

"Yeah, and that's the thing. She still had her share in the partnership when she left."

"But… there must have been a buy-out clause?" Lucy asked, puzzled.

Natsu shrugged again. "I think there was. I think they all hoped your mother would come back, or work part-time, or something. It's all a little weird."

You're all a little weird, Lucy thought.

"Is it resolved now?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But if you join us then gramps thinks we're vulnerable to your father's manipulation again. At the same time, he loves the idea."

"Why?"

Natsu gave her a strange look. "Because you're Layla Heartfilia's daughter dummy! I mean, didn't I just finish telling you about the whole 'family' thing?"

He had indeed. Lucy let her head drop softly against Natsu's knee. He was probably startled, but—just as she'd expected—a warm hand came down on her head to stroke her hair.

"So you came to tell me all this? They couldn't have told me all this sooner? And… that means you were lying earlier about not knowing who I was."

"Uh, well… kind of? I never said that I didn't know you. Anyway, gramps didn't want to get into it while you were still learning the ropes, you know. But there's a slight problem now."

"What's that?"

Natsu sat in silence for a while and Lucy was too comfortable—or had too much to think about—to move. Finally, Natsu gently tipped up her chin. His eyes were almost entirely grey now, and had lost their cheerful good humour.

"I kind of… like you." The blush on his cheeks darkened. "Um, a lot. You might have noticed."

I've only known him for about five hours, Lucy thought frantically to herself. What am I supposed to do now?

Natsu cleared his throat. "I totally understand that you can't feel the same way after, well, not very long, anyway. Plus…"

Lucy found her voice again. "Plus I'm pretty sure that a partner dating a summer student is frowned on by the Law Society."

"Probably—those guys don't like anything." Lucy saw him scowl and suspected that Natsu and the Law Society weren't always on the best of terms. "We totally have to watch our steps. But that's not the point. The point is that gramps and Erza are worried about it. We do have to follow the Law Society rule about not admitting you as a partner until you're qualified as a lawyer. And until you're a partner, you're an employee. And right now you're going to be mostly my employee."

"And you're telling me all this now?!"

Natsu looked away and scrubbed at his hair. "I, uh, didn't exactly tell them how I felt. They just figured it out."

"Especially after you said you'd be helping me find a place to live?" Despite being both flushed and flustered, Lucy was beginning to see the funny side of the situation. "Oh Natsu… You told them not to worry about me because we were getting together on the weekend to look at places, didn't you?"

"Well of course! They just took it wrong!" He frowned at floor. "Stupid Gray was laughing at me. But honestly—I didn't mean it to sound funny!"

"You just wanted to be friendly."

There was a long silence.

"I wasn't going to try anything, Luce, honest!"

"Luce?"

"It suits you."

Lucy pursed her lips, her analytical brain ticking over and fighting a losing battle with her heart and strangely overactive hormones. At length she said: "So, the burning question right now is whether I might like you back? And either way, am I willing to risk taking a job working for a firm in which you are a partner? Especially when both the senior partner and the managing partner are ambivalent about the situation…"

"They're not! They think it's hilarious—well, gramps does and Erza kept muttering 'how cute! how cute!' and then threatening to kill me if I hurt you."

"I still think it may be against the Code of Conduct somewhere," frowned Lucy.

"And… she's back to the Law Society!" Natsu looked frustrated now.

Lucy took a deep breath and put her hands on Natsu's face. His eyes—now mostly green—went very wide. "To hell with the Law Society!" With a strange, half-drunk feeling, Lucy closed her eyes and brought Natsu's lips against hers. It didn't surprise her at all to find them very warm and very sexy—just like the rest of him.

Natsu relaxed slowly against her, and his lips parted slightly, returning her kiss. Lucy moved her hands from his cheeks to his shoulders. Careful not to break the kiss, Natsu slid off his seat onto the floor so that he could wrap his arms around her. She could feel his solid chest against her breasts now, and his blunt-fingered hands on her back and in her hair. She couldn't believe what she was doing, but for once she told her cautious self to shut the fuck up.

Time passed, and the kiss deepened. They got better at it as they went along, until the first gentle pressure of lips was something entirely different and much more exciting. Lucy felt as though all the nerves in her skin had come alive at once. Somehow she'd ended up in Natsu's lap, and she was very good with that.

"Is this… okay?" Natsu mumbled at length, when they paused to breathe. He leaned his forehead against hers. "I hope it's okay."

"Me too," Lucy said vaguely. "It's all your fault for talking law to me."

"Torts."

"Not just for dessert anymore!" Lucy giggled at the old, old joke.

"Mens rea."

"I think so."

"What?"

"I think I understood and intended to commit the actus reus."

"So you are fully guilty of kissing me." Natsu tugged lightly on a lock of soft golden hair. "I don't think that's a crime though."

"I just figured that you couldn't take advantage of me if I took advantage of you first."

"What if I only want you for your lightsaber?"

"That's my line."

Natsu blushed. Lucy figured she'd been red from the start, so it was only fair. She took the opportunity to ask a question.

"So… did Gray really win millions by moonlighting in an online computer game tournament?"

Natsu eyed her warily. "Maybe. Why?"

"You're right, that's pretty geeky—or is it nerdy?" Lucy smiled at Natsu, for no other reason than that she was happy.

"I was on his team," Natsu muttered.

"Sorry? You'll have to speak up—I missed what you said over the sound of me laughing at you."

"Nintendo baby."

"Try me at MarioKart, Pepto B."

"Hey! What?! No—Luce!"

"Seriously though, when do you guys sleep?"

"When we can. Well, I do. As for Gray, well… the ice never rests…"

"So he does play hockey?"

"Of course. Fortunately, we figure that he was replaced with a robot years ago, so he doesn't pass out from exhaustion as crucial moments."

"So you don't play hockey?"

Natsu looked embarrassed. "They kicked me off the team partway through the first season, two years ago."

"Should I sue for wrongful dismissal?"

"Um… no. There may have been some—slight—cause." Natsu silenced her next question with a kiss. This time one hand slid under the back of Lucy's shirt to caress the soft skin of her back and waist, and there was no further conversation for quite a while.

They parted, very reluctantly, at midnight.

"You're a failure as a study partner," noted Lucy, examining various hickeys with a combination of embarrassment and satisfaction. "I still don't understand constructive trusts properly."

"Nobody does," Natsu assured her. "But if you're worried, gramps could talk to Prof Porly about it?"

"Prof… Porly?"

"Well, apparently she and Makarov go way back."

"I'll pass on the intervention. I'll bet Gray understands constructive trusts."

Natsu gave her a severe look. "You really know how to hurt a guy, don't you?"

Lucy sighed. "Sorry, Natsu. But… I've been trying to make a difficult decision…"

Natsu could sense that she was serious, and took her hand. "Tell me."

"I'm going to turn down M&V's offer."

"What?! No—Lucy, you belong with us!"

"Natsu." Lucy leaned up to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "It's just for the summer. I can find something else. Maybe work for one of the profs instead of at a firm."

"Because of me?"

"Because of us."

All pretence of joking had already dropped from Natsu's face, but now he looked especially unhappy. "I wish you wouldn't do this, Lucy. And it's not… it's not necessary."

"It is for me."

Natsu studied her. Two years of keeping an eye on her had given him insight into her moods. He'd classify this one as "smiling but stubborn".

"I feel like a total jerk. If I hadn't said anything… we could've at least been friends, you know? And you could've worked at Fairy Tail with a clear conscience."

"Until I ripped your shirt off…"

"Would you?"

Lucy laughed. "You look so hopeful!" Then she shrugged uncomfortably. "Which kind of proves my point. I just… can't have both, Natsu. Please don't make it harder."

Natsu looked down. After a short time, he nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry I messed things up for you."

"How? By existing and being the person that—gods know why—I want to be with?"

"Oi! That wasn't exactly flattering!"

"Your self-confidence can take it."

"Okay, Luce. So… you'll go out with me, then?"

"Yes."

"And you'll join the firm as soon as you're qualified?"

"As long as Erza and Mr. Makarov still want me, yes."

There was a longish interval that didn't involve words.

"Goodnight, Natsu."

"Night, Luce!" He swung himself onto the window ledge.

"Wait—Natsu!" When he paused, Lucy asked the one question she'd forgotten earlier. "How did you make it up here—and in sandals—and how are you going to manage a thirty-foot drop?"

Natsu smiled a little. "You'll find out when you join Fairy Tail, Lucy Heartfilia. Until then, well—you're the one who said she could be patient."

He was gone on the final word, and there was no terrible crunch of broken flesh and bones.

We'll see, Natsu Dragneel. I'll bet I figure it out before then. I've done a lot of reading about Fairy Tail. And at least one place mentioned "magic". Maybe it wasn't such a cracked theory after all.

Smiling to herself in a way that she hadn't in years, Lucy got ready for bed.

[END]

A/Note: I hope you've enjoyed this quirky little brain-child of mine. All comments and reviews are very much appreciated, and thank you for all your support through likes, kudos, follows and faves!

~Impracticaldemon

Tags: @nalufever  @shell-senji  @sabinasanfanfic  @walk-tall-my-fr1ends @kazama-hime @nalu-natic @naluloverforever @strawberrysweetlove35

@eliz1369  @very-x-vice @hakusaitosan @ftfanfics @fic-writer-appreciation

[rowdyprofessor]

Saat Soch: IPKKND3 Episode 22

Here there be spoilers!!

Previous

1. Why? Just ... why!!???

I’m tired of the shagun-ka-sikka games and tired of Chandni flirting with Advay, being scared when he makes advances and then switching instantly back to flirtation when he backs off. 

What are they trying to show here? How are we supposed to interpret it? There’s a difference, in my view, between showing a woman scared of intimacy and a woman scared of the entire man and his intentions.

And to be clear, this is still the same day that he set PP on fire. Everyone has changed clothes but it’s not actually another day!!! This day started in Episode 16 and has just dragged on and on and on.

In the flashback montage of salutes, they forgot the salute he did when he SET AN ENTIRE HUMAN BEING ON FIRE. This made me very angry because it seems the show is trying to convince the audience that Advay’s not really that bad. News flash: he is.

2. Chandni’s attachment

Chandni: “Sach mein jaa rahe hain? Hamesha ke liye?”    [Is he really going? For ever?]

Chandni becomes emotional when Ajeeb Singh Raizada starts to leave. As Advay noted, she’s fallen for him and just doesn’t know it yet. This is the closest she’s come to acknowledging that she’s formed an attachment to him.

I would speculate that her quick attachment can be attributed in part to her recognising, on some level, that he’s Dev, but it’s more likely a result of the show’s creative team not knowing what they want to show.

3. The family meet Rachna

Shikha: “Humne toh prank kiya tha, yeh toh frank ho gayi!”    [We played a prank, but she’s real!]

Chandni has no idea who she’s dealing with! She fabricated Rachna to get Advay out of the house, and Advay brought her to life. Meghna, Shikha, and Chandni knew exactly what was happening and I thought their reactions were hilarious. 

I’m impressed that Advay managed to get the exact same kameez for Rachna to wear -- apparently his audience wouldn’t have recognised her if she wasn’t dressed exactly the same as the video she made.

Rachna: “Advay se koi bhi ladki pyaar karne lagi gi. Advay hai hi aisa.”     [Any girl would fall in love with Advay, he’s just like that.] Kajal: “Yeh toh truth-wala-sach hai ji!”     [That’s true!]

Did Advay write those lines for the actor he’s hired? Full of ourselves, aren’t we bachcha?

Rachna says that she made the video in the hopes of winning Advay’s heart, but has now learnt that love is earnt, not stolen (what, in the two minutes since the video aired?)

Rachna: “Main apni do idiot behno ki baaton mein nahin aati, toh main woh video kabhi nahin banati!”     [I would have never made those videos if I hadn’t listened to my two idiot sisters.]

LOL!!

Indrani: “Iss ladki ke jhoot ke vaje se, humne Advay ko galat samjha.”   [I believed Advay was in the wrong because of this girl’s lie.]

And note that it’s Chandni who lied -- Chandni, the girl who runs around saying that she never lies and always owns up to her mistakes.

4. Punishment

Advay: "Yeh toh ek zidi, dhokebaaz ladki ki bachkani harkat hai. Isko itni importance mat dijiye.”    [This is the childish prank of an impetuous, dishonest girl. Don’t give it so much importance.]

Advay then discusses possible punishments for Chandni Rachna, to which Kajal eagerly suggests to handfuls of chilli. The Vashisth sisters experience a sudden and overwhelming urge to cough. Shakun suggests two slaps, which the girls seem to feel on their cheeks, and Rajit chimes in by mentioning police stations. Chandni imagines handcuffs on her wrists.

Advay thoroughly enjoyed this and smirked at Chandni as she shook her head to beg ‘no’. His decision to forgive her without punishment most likely seemed too good to be true.

And with this stroke of genius, Advay is reinstated in his bedroom.

5. Mosquito

Advay: "Raat ko mere kamre mein aa jana, katto gilehri banke.”    [Come into my room tonight, all made up.]

Even Chandni’s refusal had a hint of flirtation in it as she questioned his choice of language. Advay promptly threatened to reveal her prank to Indrani, PP, and PP-Mummy before commanding her into his bedroom again. Alone, Chandni had a moment where she shared her exasperation with the empty room.

I get it, she’s Cute™️. But the cuteness is overdone, to the point where it looks like she’s incapable of being serious. Tomar’s voice modulation, which was excellent when she was making fun of his sunglasses and perpetual dramatic entrances, has become stuck on Cute™️. It’s not, in my opinion, doing the character any favours, because it now seems that she swings between flirtation and terror with nothing in between.

Later that night (and boy am I glad that this day is almost over!), Chandni agonises over a decision:

Chandni: “Main kpi machar hoon kya, jo kisi ke bhi kamre mein chali jaoongi?”    [Am I a mosquito, that I’ll just go into anyone’s room?]

This hasn’t stopped her barging into his room on other occasions but it seems the issue is that he’s asked -- she’s much more comfortable sneaking in whenever she feels like it. Personal privacy, you see, only belongs to women.

Chandni: “How mean! Chow mein.”

WHO IS WRITING HER LINES? STAHHHHHP. 

6. Unique

Last night I felt I could forgive this episode most of its trespasses because of this scene. He’s finally playing his guitar.

Well, not playing it.

I think the idea was to insert random guitar notes and then they later decided to go with the ASR theme. But it’s overlaid on top: I don’t think it was intended to suggest that Advay was playing that tune. Firstly, I don’t even think the instruments match. The sound in this version of Arnav’s the ASR theme has always struck me as distinctly electrified. I feel it’s been produced by plucking the strings of an electric guitar, not an acoustic one like Advay has. Or perhaps the strings of a cello or similarly larger string instrument. It’s unlikely Advay would be able to produce that sound on the guitar in his hands, especially not with the piano notes underneath.

I feel the setup of the scene was a lot like the scene in Arnav’s bedroom after the guesthouse incident, where this instrumental played in full. It was an introspective, emotional scene, and I think that’s why the theme was used here.

But I could absolutely be wrong -- I guess we’ll have to see whether they do it again to know :)

Not related at all: If you have time, watch this amazing video of Rabba Ve being played on a piano.

Advay’s guitar says “Unique”, which is the English translation of his name.

I loved this scene. I loved the emotion, I really liked the music, and I loved that Advay was basically thinking of all he’d lost and Chandni arrived with:

Chandni: “Main aa gayi!”     [I’m here.] 

She’s the cure to the emptiness in his life.

7. Punishment

Ahh no. I respectfully disagree, Professor Raizada. Katto gilehri means sexy, and there’s generally nothing wholesome about it ... at least not in the way I’ve heard it used.

Advay: “Sharma rahi ho tum?”      [Are you shy?]

Yes. Yes, she is.

Advay makes Chandni hold her ears and squat, something that Dev used to make her do as well, and she mutters to herself, thoroughly unimpressed. The muttering reminds Advay of tiny!Chandni, and he moves on to the second part of the challenge -- write out a hundred lines.

Chandni: “Aap koi master-ji hai kya?”    [Are you some kind of teacher?] Advay: “As a matter of fact, yeah. Main ek professor hoon.”    [As a matter of fact, yeah. I’m a professor.]

LOL.

She eventually acquiesces to the punishment, giving him the evil eye while he happily (and messily) eats noodles. She’s so horrified when he picks up a noodle from his shirt and starts to pop it into his mouth, that she stops him.

Precap: Hahaha it looks like the three idiots were spying on Advay, and Chandni is caught when she falls over. She claims she’s practising for her wedding photos, so Advay decides to help out.

Theories:

I got nothing.

Will I continue watching?

Yup.

Next

[victorineb]

Alana Finds Out: Everybody Finds Out

Another instalment of AFO in honour of Ladies of Hannibal Week... in which everybody is a cheating horndog and the BAU bathrooms are not the best place for intimate... conversations.

Also on AO3.

“Get your hand out from there!”

“You're kidding, right? That's the whole reason we came in here!”

“Oh, really? Because I was under the impression you needed to have a serious talk about ‘important lady things.’”

“That was just to squick Zeller out. And you know I had no intention of just talking about ‘lady things’.”

“Beverly!”

“Yes, my dear Dr Bloom?”

Alana watched her friend – lover – waggle her eyebrows salaciously and sighed. “Ok, but you are well aware that I'm not usually… quiet – stop laughing – so you'd better make it worth my while when we both get suspended.”

Beverly placed a hand – the one that was not currently working its way into Alana’s knickers – over her heart in mock-offence. “That you have even to question my skill in this area has mortally wounded me.” She bit softly at Alana’s bottom lip, drawing a soft moan from the doctor, and then pulled back, smirking. “Lucky I'm a fast healer.”

And then they were kissing in earnest, deep and slow and good, as Alana felt Beverly touch a warm finger to her clit, provoking a burst of pleasure.

Alana still wasn't sure how they'd ended up here. She'd been aware of Beverly’s sex appeal for years, the leather jackets and direct wit pushing several of Alana's favourite buttons. She'd caught the other woman’s dark eyes twinkling at her in the halls of the F.B.I. often enough to know that they'd always been on the cusp of… maybe. So it hadn't been a surprise, just a very pleasant progression, when a beer after a long day of battling Jack Crawford’s granite opinions turned into full flirtation. Then a kiss, soft and questioning. And another, during which Beverly’s tongue had caused Alana’s mind to flood with images of what else she could do with it. And then, just two days later – when the curiosity had got too much to handle and Alana had turned up, unannounced, at Beverly's apartment – utterly fantastic sex. Which had continued, at regular intervals, over the subsequent two weeks.

The problem was that Alana had also had another longstanding maybe, in the form of her former mentor Hannibal Lecter, a maybe who had turned into a definitely well before Beverly had. Alana wasn't sure what it meant that she'd suddenly thrown caution to the wind for two people she'd always consciously held back from. Nor that she'd become, for the first time in her life, a cheat.

She suspected it might have something to do with the imprisonment and release of Will Graham, once another maybe, now a lost for good. She was carefully holding back from considering that, too.

Alana had always thought that, if and when she decided to sleep with Hannibal, it would lead to something important. A relationship, for sure, with the possibility for long-term commitment. He was, after all, ludicrously eligible, attractive and genuinely her friend. He brewed his own beer for her, for crying out loud. So, it came as something of a surprise that, when she got past the incredible sex and the fondness she had always retained for him, Alana found she didn't feel that thing, that spark when she was with him.

And a downright shock that she felt it with Beverly.

“Alana, god, I wanna take you back to your office, spread you over your desk and make you come ‘til you forget how to want anything else.”

Yes, please.

Beverly was past definition. And Alana was past the ability to control herself in her presence.

Especially when Bev was exposing Alana’s breast and sucking a nipple into her smiling mouth, while touching her right… there.

“Oh, god!”

“Yep, still not quiet.”

Because, Alana mused, as cogently as she could at that moment, someone who can simultaneously make you laugh and moan in ecstasy, is not someone you just fuck in the bathroom stalls between crime scenes. Frankly, that might be someone you marry.

She was just wondering whether it would be best to have The Talk with Hannibal or Beverly first, when the sound of the bathroom door opening caused both women to freeze. Alana slapped her hand over her mouth to silence herself, while shooting Bev a glare that she hoped effectively conveyed the accusation, You told me no one even knows this bathroom existed!

Beverly shrugged, without a hint of genuine apology and gave Alana a truly wicked grin before continuing what she'd started. Alana clenched her thighs in protest. Beverly just gave her a look that said, Please, like that's gonna stop me and Alana felt herself moan, hoping her hand had worked to muffle it.

“Did you hear something?”

Guess not, Alana thought, tensing for discovery, as footsteps began to move along the room, checking each stall. Then she realised, as she saw Beverly’s eyebrows raise, that she recognised that voice as belonging to Will Graham.

Before he could make it to the end stall, where Beverly and Alana were entwined, another familiar voice rang out, “I heard nothing. Please, Will, stop looking for distractions and talk to me.” Hannibal sounded as though he was pleading.

Behind the cubicle door, the two women shared a look, equally guilty and intrigued. Beverly finally disengaged her hand, seemingly recognising that her teasing had just stopped being fun.

“Talk to you? As in, have a conversation with you?” Will sounded bitter, the strange calm he had elected to assume around Hannibal apparently destroyed. “Because that's got me in trouble before, you know.”

“Will, I appreciate your anger.”

“Oh, I know you do.”

“But it is unproductive in this case. We must discuss what is happening between us, so that we might restore balance.” Footsteps rang out, Hannibal apparently moving closer to Will.

“Restore balance?” Will was incredulous. “We've never come close to achieving balance, you made sure of that.”

Someone sighed and Hannibal conceded, “You are right to say so. I am sorry, I wish to make amends. I wish to earn your forgiveness, your trust, the right to your company.” More footsteps.

“And you think last night was the way to do that?” Alana could hear the resentment ebbing from Will's voice, replaced by its own note of pleading. What on earth happened last night?

“I think last night can be seen as evidence that you may be capable of granting me those things, in time. And was, incidentally, a night I would never regret, nor choose to alter.” From their voices, it seemed the two men were now standing close together.

There was silence for a long while, then Will said, his voice now soft, “No, me either.” Then silence again, until Alana heard Hannibal moan, “Oh, Will,” and knew they had been kissing.

At which Alana forgot she was currently in an adulterous clinch of her own and made to exit the stall. Beverly tried manfully to hold her back but quickly found that Dr Bloom in a rage was a force to be reckoned with. Alana slammed back the cubicle door and strode out to the sight of her boyfriend and the man who had accused him of being a killer – who had sent someone to kill Hannibal in supposed retribution – holding each other in an embrace.

“Just what the hell is going on?” she demanded.

“Alana… I… I…” Hannibal looked shocked, dropping his arms from around Will’s waist. Alana noted, with some satisfaction, that it was the first time she'd ever seen that expression on his face.

Will, however, who had discreetly removed his hands from Hannibal’s ass, hadn't needed his empathy to read Alana's flushed cheeks, mussed hair and swollen lips. He was, therefore, looking past her at the wide-open stall, then back to ask, “Hate to be cliché, but we could ask you the same thing.”

Alana turned to see a sheepish and equally undone Beverly moving towards her. She turned back, grateful for the support as Bev stood close behind her. Standing her ground, she fixed the two men with a look. “Are you sleeping together?” she asked.

“Again, same ques…” Will began but Hannibal interrupted him.

“I believe there is little point in prevarication in this situation, Will,” he said.

“When did you become such a fan of speaking the truth?” Will asked, then sighed. “Ok, fair enough.” He looked over at Alana. “Not until last night. And you?”

She knew he knew already. “Longer,” she admitted. She noticed Hannibal looked entirely unsurprised by this. “Did you know?” she asked, feeling a mixture of guilt and disbelief.

“I was aware you had taken another lover, yes. And that it was likely a woman, judging by the scent.”

“You know people hate when you do that thing with the scenting, right?” Will told him, earning a glare from both Alana and Hannibal.

“And, what?” Alana asked, knowing it was irrational and hypocritical but feeling no urge to control herself. “You just didn't care, huh? I mean so little to you?”

“On the contrary, Alana, I care for you deeply, and always have. The fact that we were sleeping together did nothing to alter that. I was aware that you were not in love with me, as I am not with you, and did not, therefore, begrudge you seeking company elsewhere. Not least because you have been uncommonly happy since you began your new relationship. Given that it is with Ms Katz, I must say I understand.”

Beverly beamed.

“Plus,” Alana noted, not quite ready to give up the fight, “I was just a distraction, not the ultimate prize.”

“Not that, my dear Alana, never just anything. But yes, Will is and has long been, the object of my affection.”

“You got a strange way of showing it, doc,” Will muttered but the look in his eyes held mostly amusement and he moved into Hannibal's side, accepting an arm around him.

“You know,” Beverly said, “it occurs to me that we are in the fortunate position of everybody getting just what they want here. Unless,” she turned Alana's face to hers gently, “I'm reading this situation very wrong.”

Alana gave a soft smile and shook her head.

“I think you may be onto something there, Katz,” Will said and the two exchanged a grin, “but please, do show your working.”

“Yes, professor. So, on one side of this equation, she's crazy for me and I'm nutso for her. On the other side, well, I always figured nobody looks at each other that way without some serious UST in progress.”

“UST?” asked Hannibal, bemused.

“Unresolved sexual tension. Although now it's RST, I guess. Resolved sexual tension,” she added, off their looks.

“Ah,” Hannibal responded, watching Will blush, “thank you Agent Katz. Quite astute of you.”

“So, what?” Alana asked, attempting to maintain an air of annoyance and failing miserably. “We just walk out of this bathroom, un- and re-coupled, and go on about our days?”

“Our lives, I rather hoped,” Hannibal said, smiling when Will bumped their hips together.

“Do you really have an issue with that, doctor?” Beverly asked, only a touch of nerves in her voice.

Alana thought about it.

“Nope,” she replied, “issue free.”

“Nothing for us to feel horrible about,” Hannibal interjected, causing Will to bark out a laugh.

“What's funny?” Beverly asked but the two men just shook their heads and grinned at each other. Hannibal looked positively smug. “Ok, boys,” she continued, “time to find your own secret hidey-hole.”

“Why use the ladies’, anyway?” Alana pondered.

“Jack's in the men’s room screaming at some poor intern,” Will supplied.

“Typical,” Beverly grinned. “Off you go then.”

Alana watched as the two men, Hannibal's arm still wrapped around Will's shoulder, walked in the direction of the door. She noted the way Will leaned into Hannibal's body and how Hannibal couldn't stop gazing at him, and wondered how the hell their relationship had changed so much. And then breathed a sigh of relief she hadn't known she'd been holding, since it wasn't her job to worry about that anymore.

“Aw, sweet, aren't they?” Beverly cooed.

“In an intense, eccentric, obsessive sort of way, yes.” Alana turned to her girlfriend and looped her arms around her neck. “Now take me back in that stall and finish what you started. I'm not done with you, Agent Katz, not by a long way.”

“Yes ma'am,” Beverly saluted and then kissed her.

Alana considered it, in the end, a good day.