#he got mistaken for a girl at ‘free drinks for girls night’ somewhere

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

Both Thistle and Mickbell are nonbinary but Thistle is he/she and Mickbell is whatever suits the plot

[fallatyourfeet]

Safe Harbour (Thomas Shelby x Female Reader) - Oneshot

Summary: A good night out with your best friend takes a menacing twist, until someone unexpected arrives.

Word count: 1768

Warnings: Unwanted attention. Stalking. Reader angst.

A/N: This idea has been roaming around in my head for some time now. Had to get it out.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

You really should have listened. Listened to your mother. Why was she always right? She warned you never to walk home by yourself so late at night. Picking up your pace, your heels clicked along the pavement of the almost deserted street, her words rolling round and round in your head, ‘You hear me Y/N? No good will come of it.’ 

Yes. The almost deserted street. It wasn’t quite as deserted as you hoped it would be. Until now, it had been a good night out; a girl’s night out. Just you and your best friend. And after a few too many drinks, you both decided it was time to go home. It really wasn’t that far, after walking with your friend to her house, you wished you had taken her up on her invitation to stay. But no. Like a fool, you decided to walk the extra ten minutes to your house, just so you could sleep in your own familiar bed. What an idiot you felt now. 

Hurrying across the road, you found those ‘few too many drinks,’ quickly wearing off. Now, normally you would thank the crisp autumn wind for that, and although the night was indeed, cool, it had nothing to do with your sobriety. Your sobriety, was solely due to the sound of footsteps following you across the road. Pulling your coat tight around your body, you snuck a glance behind you, and your stomach dropped. It was the man that had been bothering you at the club. At the time, he seemed harmless enough, and after a few words to him, he left you alone. Then about ten minutes after later, you thought you’d seen him leave, but it seemed as through you were very much mistaken.  

Masked somewhere beneath your ever-increasing panic, was concern. He must have been following you since you left the club, and that meant he knew where your friend lived. God, you hoped once he was finished with whatever his plans were with you, he would leave her alone. But looking ahead that concern got buried deep within your panic. Ragged breaths gripped at your chest when your eyes trailed off into the darkness ahead. The next two street lamps were blown, and the moon above offered no help, its light swallowed up by a blanket of heavy clouds. Clutching onto your purse as if you could use it as a weapon, your thoughts went into over-drive, but you couldn’t see a way out of this. With no choice but to walk ahead into the darkness, you picked up your pace, hoping to make it to the following street, where the pavements were bathed in the soft yellow glow from the lamp posts above.  

Pulling your coat even tighter around your body, your eyes focused on the light ahead, while your ears concentrated on the boots behind you; and your panic magnified. His heavy steps were out doing yours; he was closing the distance, enjoying this menacing race a little too much. Glancing over your shoulder, you jumped at the sound of his voice, your feet now caught somewhere between a walk and a run, “Why you in such a hurry?”  

Barely daring to look back, you mustered the strongest voice your ragged breath would allow. The words were a complete lie and you doubted he would fall for it, but at this point, it was all you could think to say. “Please, leave me alone. If I don’t make it to my brothers in the next five minutes, he’s going to come looking for me.” 

Swallowed within the darkness of the street now, you could not see him, but the tread of his heavy boots warned of his close proximity, his amused laugh sending the worst kind of shivers down the length of your neck and back, but you kept your focus on the corner ahead. It was ridiculous really. To think you would find some form of safety in the light that spilled from the lamp post, it made no sense. All you would find was another long and deserted street. But still, all you thought about was reaching that damn lamp post, as if it was a light house, a beacon along the shore of a dark ocean, offering safe harbour. 

Breaking into a run, you reached it; he was just a handful of steps behind you now, but as soon as that warm light fell across your face, you stopped. Taking you by surprise, came a man from around the corner, his feet faltering for just a spilt second as his handsome face took in your panicked features. This man, this handsome well-dressed stranger, was the only chance you had and you hoped and prayed that by some miracle, he would help you. Your thoughts moved quickly and you were reacting before he even had the chance to understand what was happening. Taking a step towards him, you outstretched your arms as if you were requesting a hug, your words spilling from your mouth in a rush, “Sorry I’m late... I got caught up chatting with-”  

You didn’t even finish your sentence before the heavy boots of the man appeared from around the corner, letting you see him clearly for the first time since leaving the club. His expression was fevered and menacing, filled with unthinkable cravings, but he soon found himself taking a step backwards when his eyes fell upon the stranger, who by now, knew exactly what was unfolding. 

Taking your outstretched arms, he pulled you towards him, whispering in your ear, “Do you know this man?” 

You shook your head, your shaking voice whispering back, “No. I was at the club on High St. He must have followed me when I left.” 

Looking at you with intense and intelligent blue eyes, he instructed, “Wait here.” He needn’t had bothered; you had no inclination to leave the safety of his side. 

Moving towards the man, your handsome saviour, at first, did not speak, and yet, he did not need to. When he stepped forward, the light from the lamp above revealed his face and the feverish menacing look upon the man’s features instantly dissolved, quickly replaced by dread. Backing himself against the wall, he raised his hands defensively, “I... I’m sorry, I was just havin’ a bit of fun... I... I meant no harm.” 

Casually resting his hands on his hips, your saviour showed no sign of fear, he was completely in control. With a click of his tongue, he glanced at you, before looking back and replying, “Well, I think that for you and my friend here, 'a bit of fun’ means two very different things.” Stepping even closer, the man’s back was now completely flush against the wall, his body jolting when he searched his jacket. Pulling out some form of identification, those intense and intelligent blue eyes glanced over it, before returning it from where it came. Patting him on the side of the arm, the mysterious stranger slipped his hands into his own pockets, and spoke. “Well, Mr Kevin Pritchard, of 32 Manningham Rd... I believe by the look on your face, that you know who I am.” The man nodded his head silently, unable to find the words to speak. 

With another click of his tongue, he continued. “Good... so you’ll understand me when I say, that if I hear of you bothering my friend here, or any other lady for that matter, in any establishment... any street... or any house across this city, I’ll know exactly where to find you.” With a long breath, he stared at him silently a moment, then added, “Even if you think you can quickly disappear... I will find you...  I will find you and help you disappear myself.” Giving him a quick tap on the side of the face, he asked, “Am I being clear enough, for you?”  

Nodding his head, the man stepped away, eager to exit the confrontation, but was pulled back by a hand around his elbow, “I don’t believe I heard your answer, Mr Kevin Pritchard, of 32 Manningham Rd... Am I being clear enough for you?” 

Completely intimidated, the man answered, his voice barely audible, “Yes, Sir.” 

Shaking his head, your defender, tsked, “No Kevin, I need to hear you say my name. I need to know you understand exactly who you’re dealing with.” 

The man bit his lip nervously, trying to jerk his arm from the iron grip, fumbling an apology, before answering, “Yes, Mr Shelby... you are being clear.” 

When Mr Shelby dropped the man’s elbow, your purse slipped from your grip, so shocked you were to find out who had come to your aid. And after watching the man disappear down the dark street, Mr Shelby moved to your side, reaching down to retrieve your purse. Handing it to you, he placed his other hand to your shoulder, his concerned eyes, searching yours, “Are you okay, Miss..?” 

When you reached for your purse, his hand lingered, his touch felt warm and safe and for a moment you were lost in his gaze. Clearing your throat, you found your voice, “Miss YLN... (YN) (YLN).”  

Nodding his head, he smiled, a hint of reluctance touching his cheeks as he dropped his hand from yours, “Well, Miss YLN, I wish we had met under more pleasant circumstances... But here we are. I’m Thomas... Thomas Shelby.” You smiled, and you knew he could see the gratitude within it. Gesturing before him, he pointed down the street, “There is a pub just a few minutes down the road... There’s a telephone, I could call you a cab... Or if you like, I could buy you a drink... and drive you home myself.” 

Even though it was clear he wanted your company, there was no expectation in his voice; this was your choice. And despite the cool autumn breeze, you felt your cheeks heat up, smiling shyly as you stepped in the direction of the pub. “A drink would be lovely, Thank you, Mr Shelby.” 

With a single nod of his head, he returned your smile, “Please... call me Tommy.” And as he offered you his arm, you took it freely. It felt good, it felt right. It felt safe. Thomas Shelby. Leader of the Peaky Blinders. You had heard the stories, heard the rumours. Bad. Brutal. And morally grey. But you didn’t care. Because right now, with your arm wrapped around his, walking by his side, Thomas Shelby was a knight in shining armour... A safe harbour. And there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

[pacinosgf]

❝ but i got ahead of myself. let’s circle back. midnight mayhems in all its glory. we were doing drugs and drinking and playing and writing songs everyday. and fighting, of course. i love songs like the chain, you make loving fun, but i think we did our best work at the same time we were at our worst, what would soon become our end. we couldn’t pretend anymore, everything was personal by then.

and we wrote obsessively. all the time. we would fight and stop for a second to write a line one thought one would be good for a song. i think we have so many unreleased tracks that if we put all them together it would become more than a single record, and they are rotting in some studio somewhere. dash had this thing of turning miserable lyrics into catchy tunes, like he did in the river — we changed the lyrics more than he wanted to, but the original idea and the song itself are his. get free is brooke’s, of course, there’s her name all over the lyrics. me and dash had fun composing a structure for that one.

and then brooke showed up one day with cowboy like me. she had the nerve of naming it like that, and no one questioned. i remember i was trembling even before she started singing how she imagined the song would go, this hole in my chest becoming larger and larger as she progressed. it’s one of the songs we barely changed anything. we discussed how we would play and got to a decision quickly, probably because nobody wanted to think much about that song.

we had the habit of recording songs multiple times in different ways. instruments and voice isolated, instruments isolated, voice isolated, so we could get a mix of the best parts. there’s a version of cowboy like me that if you pay attention you can hear me sobbing in the background for one, two seconds: my whole body was aching because of those lyrics. i’m not one to cry, not today and not then, but i had to leave the studio so they could keep playing and we wouldn’t lose the tapes and i bawled and sobbed like crazy because of those fucking lyrics. cowboy like me. and i’m never gonna love again.

i wrote epiphany. dash wrote changes. we all wrote silver springs together. definitely some of our finest work, though we were all hurt and tired while making it.

of course, we had to go on a tour to play the new songs. that tour would be our last one. there’s this journalist that i love, song nari, who your generation knows for her work in culture and political matters, but i’ll always think of as this timid girl interviewing rock bands. she was already known when we got famous, but she got fond of us for some reason. we sent her every record before it was oficially released. she was busy then, out of the country if i'm not mistaken, but she wanted an interview before we got on the tour. she took a look at us, sighed very deeply and said very sweetly i don’t think you should go ahead with this tour. she was right, though we cursed her name for what she said.

i just want to finish this subject as soon as possible, let me shorten the story: arguments, arguments and arguments. me and brooke were finally realizing that we couldn’t be together. it wasn’t the band, or the boys, or the world, we were the ones stopping us from being together. we would cry, fuck and fight all night. we would get on stage too fucked up to remember every lyric, every pause. when you think it can’t get worse, life finds a way of proving you wrong. brooke had an overdose.

she was mixing up a lot of stuff, everyone knew that. we were all mixing up, but brooke went the extra mile. there came a point her body wouldn’t take it. all four of us were discussing something, and i followed her crashing down in the middle of the room with my eyes. she had the habit of pretending she had passed out as a way to win an argument, so it took us a few seconds to realize what had happened. her lips and fingertips were blue, she was barely breathing. our whole night changed in a second.

dash waited half an hour to see if she would wake up. she didn't, he left. fucking asshole. how can your wife be so close to death and you decide to leave? what if she had died then? i had taken drugs too, but i sobered up the moment i realized brooke could die. that could have been the end.

i spent the night awake, scrouched by the side of her body. i made her throw up so we could get the drugs of her system, i vomited too because i was afraid she would die, no one wanted to come help because they thought it was already too late and they didn't want to be the ones to say it was the end. i kept trying to find her heartbeat, kept whispering love promises into her ears, sure she would wake up and mock me for it.

we had a long conversation after that happened. i told her we had to stop taking drugs. i told her i’d be by her side all the time if she wanted to. she had a terrible argument with dash about him leaving her there to die.

they got back together again. she slowly got back on drugs, more eager than ever. brooke was the kind of person who would trade it all for a minute of pleasure, a minute of peace within her mind. the drugs gave her that. she had no mercy for herself, so i couldn't have any either. i wrote the great war about that.

i didn’t talk much to her after that. i was going through my own turmoil, besides what we were going through. i was throwing up three times a day, my body couldn’t take anything i ate. i felt sore and swollen from head to toe. i had fucked jim for the first time in ages just to get back at her, you know? not that she would care, but i did. fucking any other woman wouldn’t affect me as fucking my dear moron of a husband. i thought god was finally punishing me for thinking i was so smart, for wanting more than i should have, and i wanted to be punished. i wanted to be humbled. i had to go back to being that little perfect wife again or simply destroy everything i had earned. now that me and brooke were over, i wanted jim to hate me so much he would finally leave.

obviously, it got worse. i was pregnant. very much pregnant. huge hips and tits. you could see a little belly. first time i had truly slept with my husband in years and i got pregnant. jim always had a terrible timing for those things, we will talk about it later. dash had joked about taking a baby crib on the tour bus.

i couldn’t stay any longer. we never got to chicago, the last show of the tour. i wanted to sing the great war for the first time there. instead, jim packed our things so we could leave the country and i cried. i cried in the airport, i cried in the plane, i cried when i got there. we went to france. abortion had just been liberalised in france, italy, those countries. i had my procedure done in austria. it was all very quick and safe, but i got very sick right after. out of guilt, maybe. guilt because i had ran away from my problems, guilt because god was finally punishing me, just like my parents had said he would.

i spent weeks having random high fevers. i would hallucinate. i felt something growing inside of me, moving around my organs and taking all the space. i cried and i cried and i cried and i wanted to kill myself so bad that i don't even know. i spent months in bed or in bathtubs. jim would get me from one hotel to another and i'd get in the room and immediately lie down. to not say i was completely insane, i would ask the cleaning ladies to give me some products so i could wash the bathtub until my fingers bled, and then i felt safe enough to rot in the bathtub.

do i regret getting an abortion? no. i know i only got to that point because it was needed. i never thought about if i wanted to be a mother, because that was imperative, a woman must be one if the chance comes, but i knew i couldn’t be one at that moment. if i had gotten pregnant during one of the other tours we had done by then, or during a break, i’d probably fantasize about a way of keeping it and showing the world how i could be a great musician and mother. not even because i wanted to show myself, but that's just how i was raised. you get pregnant, you become a mom. i don't doubt i would have done it, i've always been a little too... some have a few loose screws, i have a few too tight.

anyway. i would never have brooke again. the band was over. i was away from home. my body was failing me, and part of my truth was that anything could happen, i'd still have myself. i didn't then. i couldn't recognize me in that body, in that mind. give me a moment to get myself together before we continue. ❞

@gllianowens

[ultralightpoe]

Mistaken - Steve Rogers

Description: Steve is sure he knows you, you are sure he doesn’t. It’s an awkward day for both

Warnings: MINORS BEWARE SMUT AHEAD. This one is saucy.

Authors Note: Yeah.....this one got away from me a bit. I hope you guys like it. Written as gn! reader. Feel free to send in some requests and enjoy!

Word Count:1,903

MAIN Master List - - Marvel Master List

            There are many things one might want to hear while they are completely hungover, looking like a dementor from Harry Potter, smelling like a sewer rat. One being “free donuts.” or maybe even “Free coffee.”

           “Don’t look now but Captain frickin America is hardcore staring your way.” Was sure as hell not one of the things you’d want to hear.

             Your friends had dragged you out last night for your birthday, taken to some random night club dressed to the nines wearing a sash that said ‘buy me a birthday drink.’ The sash obviously worked because 2 hours later you and your friends were so blacked out that you barely remembered anything, but there was a video of you giving some Steve Rogers look alike a lap dance at 1 am. 

            But it was no longer 1 am, in fact it was 8 am and you needed to get your act together for work at 10, so your friend took you to the store for some emergency Pedialyte, looking like death and wishing to whatever gods there were that the floor would just swallow you whole. 

           The gods did not answer your plea, too busy giving pleas of their own that someone would save them from a cranky hungover Steve Rogers.  

            The Avengers had gone out last night, all set to celebrate a mission gone well, and in an attempt to ease Steve’s normal stick in the mud, Thor kept giving him Asgardian mead.  It seemed like a great idea that night but when Steve woke up the next morning the soldier was extremely agitated and Thor was being scolded every second. (His headache was going to crack his head open until another Athena jumped out)

          Steve, not ready to let it go, forced Thor to the store with him and buy some stuff for the team to help the days hangover before their event that night.

          Which is where he saw you. 

            The man couldn’t figure out where he had seen you before but he knew you from somewhere, he was sure of it. You were standing with your friend, smiling like an absolute blessing, and Steve is sure he knows that smile. 

           “Thor, who is that?” Steve whispers as your friend leans in to tell you something that has your eyes widening. 

            “I have no clue, freedom man.” Thor shrugs before disappearing into the pop tart aisle, leaving Steve to himself. Your friend seemed to notice, winking in his direction before disappearing as well. 

             You took a risk and looked at him for a second, eyes widening even further while you turned back around and pretended you were extremely interested in the child electrolytes. 

             Steve took a deep breath, thinking screw it, while he walked up. 

            “Excuse me? Do…Do I know you?” He asks, standing beside you. 

            “Me? Oh good gosh no. I have never met an avenger.” You rush out.

             “Do I know you?” The birthday girl/guy asks, smiling widely as a very well known Avenger sits next to them at the bar. “You seem familiar.”

           “Yeah? How so?” He smiles back, chest tightening at the beauty before him. 

            “Mmmmmm. Maybe my dreams?” You offer, hand moving to his shoulder. “Wait. I’m actually sure of it. You are from my dreams.”

            “What kind of dreams?”

              “Why don’t you guess blondie?”

                “What do I get if I guess right?” He is whispering now, leaning in close while their friends party without them in the background. 

                 “What do you want?” You match his tone, fingers traveling up from his shoulder to his cheek very slowly. 

               “From you? Everything.”

            “Oh.” Steve states lamely, still staring at you. “Would you like to?”

             A laugh escapes you as you look over to the man nodding, holding out a hand to shake in a friendly manner. “Absolutely”

         “Well then, I’m Steve Rogers.” He smiles, shaking your hand softly. 

            “Y/n L/n.”

           “I’m assuming that the Pedialyte isn’t actually for a kid?” He teases, not really wanting to let go of your hand just yet. I swear I know that face. 

          “Is it that easy to tell I’m hungover?” You grimace, grabbing a grape flavored bottle. 

              “It’s easy to recognize one whom shares the same pain.” Steve responds with a faux british accent. You laugh again, looking to his cart and seeing the three boxes of donuts. “For the rest of the group? Or super soldier appetite? I won’t judge either way.”

           “You here with friends?” He asks, standing from his stool and moving between your legs. 

            “The group over there.” You answer, kissing his cheek while pointing. He doesn’t look, in truth he had been watching you all night, slowly getting the courage to come up to you, 

           “You want to go to a more private booth? Maybe dance a little?” He offers, the dazed look in your eye making him feel even drunker, leaning in to attach your lips. 

           He doesn’t pull back though, desperate to pull all your being into his own through the kiss, which has you reeling back to breathe. “Y’know you have to let me answer if you want that lap dance right?”

             “Good point.” He teases, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. 

             “You don’t even know my name, you savage.”

              “What’s your name, pretty one?”

               “Tonight? You can call me angel.” You smile, tightening your legs around his waist. “How bout you?”

             “Cap. You can call me cap.”

           “Okay Cap, let’s move to the booth.”

          “For the team, although there are times where donuts are my main meal.” Steve laughs, pulling his cart up to look at the contents. “I’m supposed to be getting fruit too.” 

           “Perfect, I was going to head that way.” You smile, moving to walk beside him. “I wouldn’t think the avengers would be a partying bunch.”

           “Normally not, but we were celebrating last night.”

          “Yeah? Why’s that?”

             “We had a tough mission and we managed to get through it decently enough. I did get my arm nicked with a bullet though.” He answers, lifting the arm covered in a long sleeve. Your face flashes with something that looks like recognition for a moment before you look away in a hurry.

           “That’s…. Ouch.” You mumble, not looking near him

             The booth was dim and slightly hidden, not as much as they wanted but a little better than before.  Before you knew it the lap dance was long forgotten.

            Lips molded together, hips moving as one while your hands touched every spot they could. Pulling back slightly when your bracelet snags on a heavy bandage. 

           “What happened here?” It comes out a whisper, you don’t think you can manage more as the stranger kisses and licks up your neck, strong hands squeeze your torso.

           “Got shot, nothing to worry yourself about.” He whispers back, looking up at you with a heavy expression. “Are you from heaven? Cause you sure look it.”

             “What if I was from hell?” You giggle, beginning the rhythm of moving again. “Pretending to be an angel and seducing you?”

           “Oh is that what you were doin’?” He pants out, a new york accent begging to break through. “You wanna move this to the bathroom, Angel?”

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

           You’re panicking now as you begin flashing back to the lap dance. The copious amounts of tequila and the dim lights had you thinking it was some impersonator, but you recognized the bandage, torn slightly in the corner…Didn’t you? 

         “You okay?” He asks softly. Watching your skin flare up in embarrassment.

         “M-me? Yeah I’m fine. But I actually have a lot to get before work- can’t be late for a paid fate.” You laugh nervously which has his eyes widening as you try to walk away. 

               The angel had the prettiest fucking moans in the world. 

              Their cheek pressed against the bathroom stall door as they moaned for him to move faster, which he happily obliged. The pure bliss he felt with every move was addicting, he wanted to stay like this forever. 

              Kissing up your shoulder to your neck as he moved, he couldn’t help but think that angel was a perfectly good nickname, because this was fucking heaven. 

             “Just like that angelface. Come on.” He grunted, hips moving a bit faster, both chasing the release that followed. “Aw fuck.”

               “Oh my gosh…..” you breathe out, letting him hold you up since your legs were too shaky to do much else. “What are you? A god?”

        “I wish darlin’” He mumbles, kissing the back of your neck softly now that the wave had crashed.

                      “Wait a minute…..” Steve mumbles, watching you rush off. “Can’t be late…. Where have I heard that before?”

           His feet begin moving on their own accord, moving to find where you ran off to. When he passes Thor he all but shoves the basket in the gods hands, murmuring a “take this” before you fall into his sight again. This time leaving the store with bags. 

           Steve rushes after you, groaning a bit when the sunlight hits him. “Wait! Wait! I know you.”

            He hears you whine out to your friend to hurry, telling them to shut up when they ask “wasn’t an impersonator huh?”

           Clothes were put back on, with some awkward shuffling about and you both were getting ready to leave the stall. But Steve wasn’t ready. 

          “How about some breakfast?” He asks, heart beating out of his chest as you look up at him, hands rubbing his torso as if you knew it would help with the anxiety.

             “Can’t, I got work. Can’t be late for a paid fate.” You laugh, kissing his chin.

         “That’s an odd saying.”

          “Read it in an obituary and thought it matched work pretty well.” This has Steve laughing now too, grabbing your head and pulling you in for a kiss. “I wanna see you again.”

         “Yeah?” You whisper, pulling out a pen. 

         “No. Actually I need you see you again.” He flirts, refusing to break eye contact as you slip his arm bandage up a bit, writing your number down. 

         “If you remember this is there before it fades away then it’s fate.” You explain, kissing above your number which is just below the wound, before rewrapping his arm.  “You know, you actually kinda look like Captain America, the likeness is uncanny.”

           He catches you right before you get into the passenger seat, holding the door as his heart beats right out of his chest. 

           “We have a fundraising gala tonight. I want you to come with me.” He blurts, attempting a nervous smile.

           “I’m sorry?” You’re laughing nervously, looking between your friend and him like you couldn’t believe this was real.

         “No. I’m sorry, that wasn’t the way to ask.” He sighs before leaning in until your noses practically touched, hands moving to scoop your face. “Will you be my date to the fundraising ball tonight, angel? Can’t ignore fate when it clearly wants you to date.”

          His chest explodes when you laugh loudly, your skin hot as you nod. “O-okay. Yeah.”

          “Perfect, I’ll call you.” He kisses your lips before stepping back. 

       “Don’t you need my number?” You laugh, moving to grab a pen. 

         He shakes his head, pushing the bandage up a bit to reveal it’s still there. “Nope. I remembered before it faded.”

That he did.

[15-dogs]

lovely night |r.b.|

pairing: regulus black x reader

summary: when regulus finds hidden letters from sirius after he’s run away with his girlfriend, you admit to something you never thought you would (hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, forbidden love, no war au)

warnings: blood status stuff, underaged drinking (regulus and reader are 18), idk if this needs to be tagged but reader is a muggle born butler/worker for a pure blood family

guide: (Y/N) = your name, (Y/L/N) = your last name

word count: 2.2K

a/n: askjdhs this is my first regulus fic i hope it’s ok we’ll see we’ll see. also!! yes i did draw inspo from lovely night from la la land so the girlfriend sirius ran away with years back is the reader from planetarium so check that out if you want context to the letters!! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you like it!!

***

You only did what you had to to get by. Your muggle parents had thrown you out years ago so you had to find a job to support yourself. In the defense of good character and charity, the Greengrass family took you in as their worker. You stayed with them in the private quarters you shared with the house elves and kept your head down when they threw backhanded insults about your blood status at you. Whatever you could do to get by, you did.

As a reward for being so well-behaved at their home, the family would take you out to private events, fit only for the pureblooded families. Many families would bring their attendants with them, just to prove they were not of ill faith quite yet. You didn’t quite care about those intentions, not when you were too distracted by the glamour of the day.

You did have a very rich fantasy life. As Amalina Greengrass’s seamstress, you got to play with her dresses. And what dresses those were. Long, flowing gowns with pale colors which could make anyone look like royalty.

You used to dream about attending those parties in those dresses, catching the eye of a certain young suitor who was quite skilled at the violin. You imagined walking right past him, like he wouldn’t even recognize you in your fancy clothes, but he would do a double take before running after you, spouting compliments and praise and wondering why in Merlin’s name he hadn’t noticed you that way before.

But Regulus wasn’t like that.

Regulus was your friend, dress or rags. Every party you two were forced to attend, you always ended up sneaking off to chat. Regulus would secure a secluded balcony far off in the mansion from the ballroom while you stole a bottle of firewhiskey from the kitchens. That night was no exception.

Regulus sat on the ground, his legs slotted through the railing and dangling over the garden 30 feet down. He looked so pretty in the moonlight, his sharp features finally softening. It was moments like those you knew Regulus wasn’t as scary as he or his family let on.

Against your instinct to stare in silence, you knocked on the open glass door and pushed past the billowing curtains to reveal yourself. Regulus didn’t turn around. You joined him on the balcony, sliding into the spot next to him as you rested your cheek against the cool metal of the railing.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you teased. Regulus didn’t smile.

Now, with you so close, you could see all the details in his face more clearly. The pain you had mistaken for calm flooded his face and soon washed over you. Your stomach turned with an ache for his wellness.

You knew he wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, not when he was stone cold sober, so you untwisted the cap and sloshed the liquid around before passing it to the boy next to you, deciding he should get the first drink. Regulus winced at how much he slugged back but didn’t falter, continuing to drink until amber liquid spilled down his chin.

“Easy there,” you whispered, cautiously easing the bottle away from his lips. Regulus grunted in discontent before allowing you to pry the bottle away from him, your hands slipping over his like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Silence with Regulus wasn’t unusual, but silence when he had something to say was unsettling. He had only completely lost it once, when Sirius moved out and ran off with some girl he met at one of the balls his parents hosted. He did it all with telling his younger brother. And although Regulus spat Sirius’s name with venom he had inherited from his environment, he loved him, and his running away cut so incredibly deep Regulus didn’t know how to control himself.

So really, you could only prepare yourself for the worst.

“It’s a lovely night out,” you began, nudging Regulus with your shoulder. He shrugged. “What a shame it’s just for us.”

Glancing out of the corner of your eye, Regulus frowned. That disquieting look reappeared on his face, although a tad bit more melodramatic than before. Regulus snatched the bottle from you and took a quick swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand with reckless abandon, your nerves thrumming.

Regulus finally— finally— turned to look at you, his cheeks reddened in a healthy flush from the alcohol. His shoulder brushed against yours and you looked up, your face nearly colliding with his. Unconsciously, you sucked in a sharp breath and consequently inhaled the scent of the burning liquid off of Regulus’s breath.

“Do you think I’m a good person?”

“Yes,” you answered with no hesitation. He blinked in shock. “Yes, Reg, I think you’re wonderful.”

He sat in silence, studying your face for a tell while you allowed yourself to get lost in his eyes. The moonlight passed over them, giving the deep chocolate brown a plethora of shades and his long lashes cast a nearly invisible shadow which you wouldn’t dare miss.

After what felt like an eternity, Regulus turned his body to unbutton his vest, promptly pulling out a small stack of letters. He dropped them on your thigh with a look of horror before pulling his gaze away.

Before you could ask what they were, Regulus answered you. “They’re letters from Sirius.”

Your eyes bulged. Raising the letter up to your face, you glanced at the contents before shuffling to the next one. “These are all from when he left. Where did you get these?”

“Mum’s dresser. She asked me to get her perfume and I found them in there, hidden.” 

Regulus made a limp movement to get the letters back, accidentally slapping them down on the floor between you two. He huffed with frustration as he went to gather them, only picking up a few letters at a time. Regulus ran a hand through his perfectly done hair, freeing it from some of the gel which held it in place.

“She ran away with him, you know,” he began. Regulus looked up, scanning your face for something you couldn’t quite describe. It was deep and introspective, like a man looking at his reflection. “They were so in love they ran away together. I wish I was loved like that.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you and Regulus were. Friends, or something more, you hoped. So that’s why you simply said, “You are.”

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, staring into them for an explanation. He attempted to peel away as he chuckled softly to himself, making you purse your lips in defiance. “No, no,” he started, waving you off, “I mean, I wish I was loved the way Sirius and his girlfriend love each other.”

“You are.”

The silence hung heavy in the night fog. Although you managed to look calm, your heart felt like it could have beat out of your chest. But you knew, somewhere deep in your heart, you didn’t regret your confession for a second. It needed to be said, so it was. And if he didn’t feel the same you wouldn’t have to go on pretending you and Regulus weren’t friends anymore, it would just become normal.

“(Y/L/N)!” a shrill voice shrieked from the horn in the room behind you. “You are required in the parlor!”

You nodded like the caller could see you, gathering yourself and leaving Regulus alone once more. You didn’t dare look back, too fearful he’d see just how vulnerable you were. Yet, the silence wasn’t much better.

***

Typically, you hated checking the portkeys at the end of the night, making sure there were no more left in case a muggle accidentally took one. However, that night you couldn’t have been happier to offer. You needed the fresh air. You needed to be away from that place. You needed to be away from Regulus. So when you descended into the deep blue night, the last thing you wanted to hear was Regulus calling your name from behind you.

“What are you doing?” he called through heavy breaths as he caught up to you.

“Checking portkeys,” you answered curtly. You took a sharp turn down one street, cutting him off and hoping he’d get the message. But of course he didn’t. Regulus continued to follow you, hands clasped behind his back as he watched you intently. “Stop following me.”

“I would if you were going the right way.”

Your steps faltered. Didn’t you go down this street earlier? No, you were definitely in the wrong place. Huffing, you turned around and tried to maneuver around Regulus but he blocked your way.

“What are you doing?” With a cross of your arms, you looked the boy over for the first time in hours.

“Trying to get you to slow down.” Regulus planted his hands firmly on your shoulders and guided you towards a bench beside you, overlooking the skyline of the city. “Look, (Y/N), just look for one second. Look at how lovely this night is.”

It was unfair how beautiful the lighting made him look. You had to catch yourself before you got too caught up in a lost cause so you directed your attention down towards your aching feet, peeling off the cramped shoes you were forced to wear. 

Finally, you decided to look up. Regulus was right: it was a lovely night. But lovely nights were made for loving people, and he had made it clear he wasn’t one of those people. Your mood instantly soured. The more you thought about the situation, the stupider you felt. You were asking Regulus Black, the “Pureblood Prince”, to love you back, a measly muggleborn butler.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”

Regulus’s timid voice broke the silence and sent a sharp pain in your chest. You shook your head. “So, what? You thought taking me to look at the city would soften to blow?”

He perked up at that. “What?”

You scoffed, standing up, shoes in hand and venom in your veins. “I shouldn’t have expected you to say it back. I misread this, and I’ll take the blame for that to spare you. So can we please just drop it?”

Before he could even process what you had said, you were already walking away from him. Regulus scrambled to your side with a flurry of rushed pleas to make you sit and listen to him for just one second.

“You know what’s funny?” you started, a chuckle toying at your lips. Behind you, Regulus had silenced himself. “That I thought this would work out. I mean, come on, we have to take a look at ourselves for a second, Reg. We know who we are. We know our places. And my place is not with you.”

“Merlin, why not?!” Regulus shouted. Anger reverberated through the hollow street and you were near positive you could almost feel it. The corners of his eyes pricked with tears from frustration. You weren’t over him, you knew that, it was too soon, and seeing him in such a distraught state made you sick.

“What?”

Regulus ran his hands over his face with a shaky sigh. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to shout, and especially not at you. You don’t deserve to be shouted at. I just can’t hear about ‘our places’ again.”

Taking cautious steps towards him, you asked, “Again?”

Regulus sunk into a squat and rested against the pavement, evoking a quiet gasp at the cleaning his elves would have to do to his dress pants. “Amalina thought you might fancy me and told my mother. For two bloody weeks she gave me lecture after lecture about how it would be sickening if I even thought about being with someone of your…”

“Oh.” You sunk to his level, relaxing against the emptied street next to him.

“But I realized how much what she says doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes flickered up to his, wide and full of hope. “Reg, do you know what you’re saying?”

Regulus laid on his back, you following suit, staring up at the night sky. He subconsciously took your hand in his and began to trace the constellations against you with his thumb, sending sparks flying through you. 

“I do, I promise, I do. When I found those letters from Sirius, everything felt very...obvious to me. I think I might love you.”

Much to your dismay, you inched your hand out of his as you sat up, causing him to turn his head to look in your eyes. “Please don’t say that. I know you miss your brother but pretending you’re him isn’t the way to get him back.”

“I’ll admit, I thought I was doing that, too. Our love is different than theirs— it’s been there all along. And I quite like our love.”

You waited for him to look up at you, searching for the sincerity in his eyes. Regulus smiled sweetly at you, making your stomach flutter and nerves thrum. Laying back down next to him, you once again took his hand.

“What’re we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” The raven haired boy frowned. “But I think I’m prepared for it.”

As you leaned your head on his shoulder you realized lovely nights were made for loving people, and perhaps you were one of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you!!

tags: @aspiringsloth02 @dreamy-clousds @nuttytani-reblogs @anyqueen008 @lunalovecroft @pandaxnienke @for-bebbanburg

[miss-bridgerton]

for real l anthony bridgerton x you l part one

word count: 1,887 words

pairing: anthony bridgerton x you

author’s note: part 1 finally! it’s not much going on, but this is just the beginning. 

taglist: @fact-fictionx @alainabooks143 @michael-loves-chickens @misstonybridgerton

summary: Everyone knew that the Viscount was a rake. Except for, apparently, three young women who clung to his every word. Anthony Bridgerton was in fact charming. But he was absolutely terrible at dating three women at once. Some would call him a dunce for doing so. Others might call him a hero. Adelia Byron called him dead when she found out. Set out on revenge, she and the other two young ladies, Bette DuPont and Siena Rosso, decide to transform a lonely bakers girl into someone who can break the heart of the Viscount.

            PART 1: THE SOCIETY PAPER THAT CAUSED A SCENE

YOU HAD NO IDEA that a gossip column would be the cause of a brawl in your family’s tea shop and bakery: The Fancy Teapot.

Overly priced earl grey tea? Oh, absolutely.

Chairs that pinched the bottoms of debutantes and their mammas? Pinched bottoms surely caused nasty sneers a plenty.

But the latest gossip from the squares’ paper? You certainly didn’t see that coming.

It was all because of the Viscount. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was indeed charming. He had that smile that they all seemed to fawn over. His hair was swept in all the right places. And he was a British nobleman.

What more could a young lady want?

You rolled your eyes at the words that frequented that paper. What more could a young lady want? Well, for starters, you wanted freedom. You wanted to bake. You wanted to explore different cities. Eat exotic foods. Tell stories to your future nieces and nephews of your adventures. You didn’t care about marriage, no matter how many times your sister-in-law pushed it on to you. You just simply wanted to. . .experience life.

Unlike the young women who frequented The Fancy Teapot. They were all scouring for eligible unmarried men. It was what they were taught. It was all that they knew, really. 

And two debutantes who enjoyed sipping tea in The Fancy Teapot had no idea that they were both courting the Viscount. Until it came out on paper, that is.

It was a sunny spring morning and the social season had sprung in London. You loved the social season for the money it brought the tea shop, but you absolutely loathed the social season for the debutantes and their snooty behavior. They were all perfect. Beautiful gowns. Rosy pinched cheeks. The stink of wealth swarmed them like bees attracted to honey.

You had none of those things. You came from a working family. You came from two different countries. Your father had travelled to (a country of your choosing) where he met your mother and they fell in love and married within a week of him being there. Your father had convinced your mother to leave everything behind to be with him in London, but her one condition was to open a tea shop and bakery. 

He clung to his part of the condition. Soon after opening the shop, your older brother Jack was born. Five years later, you were born. For a short while, it was the four of you. Kids running through the tea shop, experimenting with teas, you found the love of baking with your mother, and your parents were still so madly in love it was almost embarrassing. Sadly, your mother became ill and passed away two years ago. 

The death was stricken. And hard on you. But it was your father that you and Jack worried after, for it was almost as if he became a different person. As if he lost a part of himself when your mother died. He tried to drink his sorrows away at the pubs, and fancied spending too much money on gambles and bets. 

That morning, he was nowhere near the tea shop, probably somewhere betting on poker chips, when you had to break apart two debutantes from nearly mauling each other.

Adelia Byron was with her friend, Cressida Cowper, at a small table near the colossal windows. She didn’t say thank you or even acknowledged your existence when you set down her steaming chamomile tea and slice of cornish hevva cake. You rolled your eyes at the way she gloated over the attention she received at the Warwick ball. Adelia was still on a thrill from two nights before, where the touch of the Viscount’s hand on her back as they danced was still on her. She dreamt of his gorgeous eyes. And when she saw the bouquets of roses addressed to her that morning, she was in total bliss.

Her friend, Cressida, was jealous. Adelia knew it. And if there was something Adelia Byron was known for, it was that she enjoyed bragging. Her father was a Baron, which made her quite eligible for marriage to a Viscount. She had elegant features: Dark red hair, stormy eyes, high cheek-bones. She had already received three proposals but Adelia knew what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Simply put, nobody else would do. She was going to marry the Viscount. And God help her and anyone who got in her way. 

On the other side of The Fancy Teapot, situated at a round table underneath an elegant painting by your brother Jack, was Elizabeth DuPont and her overbearing mother, Colette. Elizabeth, often called Bette, was the daughter of The Marquess of DuPont. So her marriage to a man of great wealth and a powerful title was extremely vital. To her mother, at least.

Bette was fond of the Viscount. He swept her away with his words, he was impressed with the way she could speak French and German, and the kiss he laid upon her gloved hand sent a thrill through her body. She couldn’t bear to tell her mother that when she went out to the balcony for a quick breath of fresh air during the Warwick Ball, she was accompanied by Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Her mother would have been furious. She wanted Bette to charm the Prince - not the Viscount. She wanted her daughter to marry a title higher, not a title lower. 

You had just set down two tea cups of herbal tea at their table when one of the young newsie boys stopped by the Fancy Teapot to drop off the new Society Paper. 

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted the ten year old boy. He often was the one who sauntered in here to deliver the paper and he did it eagerly, knowing fully well that you were going to give him some free wrapped biscuits, like always.

“Y/N!” He greeted with a boyish grin. “What’s on the menu today? I hope it's something drowned in sugar!” He said excitedly.

You laughed and grabbed the box of warm treacle tarts from under the front counter. “It’s not drowned in sugar, but I think you’ll still enjoy them,” you told him.

He grinned widely. “You’re a real magician, Miss Y/L/N!”

You smiled warmly as the little boy went off and you were so busy handing over his desserts that you didn’t even notice, Dorothea, your sister-in-law, completely captivated by the latest Lady Whistledown’s writings.

“Bloody Hell,” she muttered, leaning her back against the counter and reading the paper. A mama and her daughter were standing by the counter, awaiting some assistance and looking very peevish. You sighed at how unobservant Dorothea was.

You took care of the customers and then turned to Dorothea, who looked as if she had acquired the most scandalous news.

“Y/N! Have you read this yet? It’s so scandalous!”

“No,” you replied, though you were a bit curious. “Who is it about?”

“The Viscount.”

“Hard pass,” you replied.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “You are impossible. It’s not just about him but about the women he’s apparently leading on. And,” she took a moment to look around the tea shop and then in a hushed tone continued, “two of them are in here. Right now. Unaware of all of it!”

Well, surely just a peak at the new Society Paper wouldn’t do any harm. You grabbed the paper and took a look:

At the Warwick ball Thursday evening, Viscount Bridgerton was seen dancing with not one eligible young lady, but two. Now, I assume you dear readers know quite the reputation of our charming Viscount, as this behavior isn’t quite unusual. If you are familiar with the season’s doings, dancing with eligible suitors is normal.

Except Lord Anthony Bridgerton was seen with Miss Bette DuPont awfully close on the brink of the balcony and also seen later that evening with a certain opera singer, Siena Rosso, nuzzling her neck in a dark corner of the opera house.

How will the ladies take this embarrassment? Well, this author predicts that Miss Bette DuPont will turn a rather shade red and Miss Adelia Byron’s eyes will flash with a colour quite similar. Miss Siena Rosso will probably be locked up in a bedroom with the Viscount to even notice.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,16 APRIL 1814

Oh, brother, you thought. This better not cause anything stupid in here -

“HOW DARE YOU!!!!”

You and Dorothea looked up in bewilderment at the sudden outburst. And there it was. Lady Adelia Byron, looking absolutely furious, clutching the society paper, and standing over Lady Bette DuPont who was sitting at her table, looking between a mix of surprise and confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Bette said to her appalled. 

“You!” Adelia yelled. “You are involved with my suitor! How dare you?! You - you - harlot!”

Bette’s jaw dropped but it was her mother who spoke. “My, I never! That is quite unladylike behavior, young lady. My Elizabeth is not some harlot, clearly you cannot read because you have been thoroughly mistaken.”

Adelia rolled her stormy eyes and handed over the paper. Bette hastily read it before gasping, throwing a pretty gloved hand over her mouth.

“This cannot be true. My Lord would never do such things.” Bette told her.

“My Lord?” Adelia mocked. “He’s not your anything. I am going to marry him. So this little rendezvous is finished.”

Bette raised a brow. “I don’t think so,” she simply replied and took a sip of her tea.

Adelia looked as if she was going to chuck that steaming tea pot at the young lady’s head, so you had no choice - you had to get involved.

“Ladies, please, there is no need to act in such a manner,” you told them. They both looked in your direction, looking at you as if you were just a nobody. As if they were thinking, who the hell are you and who makes you think you have any say in this?

You cleared your throat. “He’s just a man,” you tried to explain.

Adelia snorted. “Idiot,” she said under her breath.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know, instead of getting mad at each other for something neither of you two were unaware of, you should be mad at him. Instead you are fighting over the tosser. Now that is an idiot.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped at what you said. But both didn’t say anything in retaliation. Instead, Adelia lifted her head high and walked away with what dignity she possessed and Bette went back to her tea, ignoring her mother’s angry stares.

Dorothea was nearly bursting in astonishment and the tea shop, which went quiet during the whole argument, went back to the bustling noise it always had.

All went back to normal. Until later that evening. 

While you were cleaning up and closing down The Fancy Teapot for the day, you found a folded napkin at the same table that Adelia Byron sat with Cressida Cowper. Inside was a perfectly scrawled note addressed to you.

Not many people can inspire me, but you, Miss Bakery girl, did. Visit my estate as soon as you can manage. We have a lot to discuss.

X Miss Adelia Byron

[dennou-translations]

Violet Evergarden: Booklet 2

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous, please consider donating to my Ko-fi or PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

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I wanted that star. I wanted to be the person who would piece through that star.

   Leon Stephanotis and the First Star

   I had once seen a comet that only came around every two hundred years together with a girl.

It had happened years ago. That was one beautiful evening. Even now, I can still vividly recall the twinkling of the stars we watched on that day while our bodies shivered at the coldness of the nightly wind. Like jewels scattered over a dark canopy, the starry sky was enough to make one forget to even breathe. As it passed by, dragging its white tail, the meteor looked just like a fairy in flight with insect scales scattering about from her wings.

Whenever I looked at a beautiful night sky, I would think many times over, “Aah, now that I’ve branded this moment into my heart, I’d have no regrets if someone reaped my life away”. Should I lose my life, I wanted it to be on a starry night like that. I wanted to die with the memory of witnessing something stunning.

“May the night sky be a beautiful starry one on the day I die,” I wished.

But that one evening was a little bit different. Maybe because I had someone to watch the stars with me. Maybe because that was my first love.

She was a gorgeous person. Even more than the stars. Her hair looked like the Sun when shining under the moonlight and her blue eyes were like gemstones created from a mix of the sea and the sky. With her porcelain skin and skylark voice, the way she walked was just as that of a well-cared maiden. In reality, she was an orphaned ex-soldier, as well as an Auto-Memories Doll from a far-away southern country, so the saying “don’t judge a book by its cover” was pertinent when it came to her.

She was most likely an once-in-a-lifetime kind of person, one that you couldn’t know if you would ever get to meet.

My chest throbbed even at the sigh that leaked from her when she was peeking at the telescope. When she looked my way and smiled faintly, I experienced an impact as if I had been hit in the head, giving in to a love that made me feel like my whole body would melt and crumble down.

“Master, astronomical observations are quite a wonderful thing.”

If, by any chance, my body were to be crushed by a star in that moment, only on that day did I want to keep looking at something, even if for just one second more. I wanted to keep looking at her. Forever and ever, I wished. That was what I thought.

This encounter had changed my life and decided my fate. I didn’t mind if people laughed at that, calling me a romanticist. I, Leon Stephanotis, whose destiny had been altered, would always look back on it.

On the day that I had watched the stars with Violet Evergarden.

   “There was a sea of gold in his land” – who was it again that had sung the praises of a desert like this?

“I’m beat.”

When bookworms read too much, their head’s capacity would exceed the limit, so they would automatically forget the things they had read in their early phases. I had confidence in my memorization abilities and yet I couldn’t remember this, so it was surely a passage from an adventure novel or something of the sort that I had read in my childhood.

——What a beautiful comparison.

When I actually stood in the middle of a desert, my impressions were drawn to the temperatures, sunlight and other such things regarding the environment instead, so this poetic expression hadn’t crossed my mind. In the destinations of my travels, I often reminisced to a certain someone who was somewhere in this world, as well as the things she, who spoke words as beautiful as that, used to say, as if borrowing them.

“So pretty...”

I liked the color of gold. I could observe the grains of sand moving smoothly for all eternity.

“Everyone, you did well; the books we excavated will be brought back by another group. Meaning that we from the starting line-up are finally off for the first time in months.”

As I was spacing out, I didn’t hear the commander’s words very well. I was only staring at the ground, missing out on everything. When I raised my head, the happy-looking faces of my bearded and somewhat dirty colleagues entered my eyes. All I understood right away was that we would get a vacation.

“After we get twenty days off, we’ll regroup in Iustitia, at Shaher’s headquarters. After that, we’ll go to that place in the south where the reconnaissance team was sent. Next will be our turn to bring back the luggage. Don’t let your bodies get weak.”

“Roger that.” Once everybody gave an agreeable reply in unison, we disbanded from the spot.

Iustitia, Shaher’s headquarters. The main office of my occupation. I was previously in a section called the codex department, devotedly working on the deciphering of documents and copying manuscripts, but now I had been transferred to a completely different section. It sounded good when we were called the leading actors, but it was actually a group of reeking adventure rascals, the literature collecting department.

I put my heavy baggage sack on the ground and heaved a breath. Wiping the white folk clothes that I had been provided with on-site, I dusted the sand off them. This clothing called dola – a long robe secured by a waist belt – looked flappy and inflexible at first glance, but it was surprisingly easy to move around in. It was made of a rather velvety silk material, so there would normally not be so much sand sticking to it, but since I was caught in a sandstorm until just a moment ago, there was no helping it.

We had returned from a thorough search in the ruins of an abandoned castle, once the dominion of a royal clan whose name was eminent in the past. A book burning movement had taken place in this land at a certain point, but we had received information that a scholar from those times, out of fear towards the situation, had hidden valuable books in the forsaken palace. The information was apparently right, so after wandering around all over the deserted castle, we had found dozens of books. The books that would be taken to Shaher’s headquarters were to be made into written copies and spread to the world.

Made for protection purposes, Shaher’s literature collection was also well-reputed in other countries. It was difficult to negotiate with the locals responsible for the abandoned castle, but we were allowed entrance this time as well thanks to our achievements thus far. Just like that, someone’s story, studies and feelings, which were supposed to have disappeared, would breathe once again. The books we had been looking for would be delivered to other people and comfort them during long nights.

——What a wonderful thing.

The working environment was awful, but I was proud of my job.

I sat down on my luggage and gazed at the cityscape while drinking water from my canteen. In this desert-zone city, everyone’s clothes seemed harmonized no matter what color they wore.

“Senior Leon, what will you do on your days off?”

As a junior who had not yet left the spot called to me, I furrowed my brows and looked at his face. He was a young man of masculine facial traits, which was enviable to someone as baby-faced as me.

“Hey, Sir.”

A rarity amongst the members of our unit, the man had not been born in Iustitia. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was a rich kid who had been born in a southern country and entered Shaher through connections with the foundation executives.

Getting a job at the Shaher Observatory was a daunting task even for those who had studied astronomy. It was hard to make it without learning in a good environment from an early age. Since Iustitia, the capital of stargazing, was the best place to study in, it was natural that the ones hired were mostly the locals.

——Well, this guy had connections, so this has nothing to do with him.

I pondered an answer. “Nothing in particular.” For the time being, I decided to be cold, acting as nonchalant as ever.

And this was also the same as always, but the junior took no offense in my crude response – rather, he laughed at me, looking happy. “Then that means you’ve got no plans. I was thinking of going home. If you’d like, how about we go together? We have a villa by the lake... If I go now, the schedule will allow my family to join in.”

“No, why do I—”

“Last time we had a break, I told my little sisters about your cool adventure story and they wouldn’t shut up about how much they wanted to meet you. Hey, hey, how about it?”

I was baffled. I had no idea what was good about me to this junior but he would oddly flock to me. The reason why I hadn’t told him about my plans right away was that I felt he would follow me if I did so. Honestly, he was a bother. Up to now, we had acted as a group. I wanted to be alone even if a second sooner.

“I’m not going.”

“No way... My family’s all pretty boys and girls! Sir, you like beautiful things, don’t you?”

“Do they look like you?”

“They do.”

“Then they might be pretty, but won’t be my type.”

“Sir! You’re horrible!”

“So loud. If your family’s waiting for you, hurry and go.”

While I gestured with my hand as if shooing a dog, the junior made a puppy-like sad face. Even though he had a big body, he was amicable and his display of emotions was richer than most people, making him look all the more like a dog.

“Then, if you ever feel like coming to see me during your break...”

“I won’t.”

“...could you contact a hotel called Varona in Leidenschaftlich?”

“I won... uh?”

“It’s a first-class accommodation establishment. It’s under my uncle’s administration, so you can get a stay there immediately, and I can pick you up as soon as you give me my name. Oh, you’re making an interested face, huh? Want to come with me right now?”

What piqued my interest was the word “Leidenschaftlich” – that was all.

——That’s where the CH Postal Company is.

And it was also where my first love worked at.

“You were from Leidenschaftlich...?”

“That’s right. I did say it in my self-introduction when I joined the department.”

“Well, I don’t listen to people I have no interest in...”

As expected, my junior gave a happy-looking smile with his whole face. “Sir, I like that you’re equally unfriendly to everyone. People only got close to me because of my title... and my family’s social standing... but Sir, you’re cold, and that feels nice.”

“Your suffocating actions are a pain in the ass to me. Besides, hum...”

“What is it, Sir?”

“Hum, say... is the CH Postal Company well-known?”

“Do you know Violet Evergarden?” – the reason why I couldn’t ask this was a literal embodiment of how much I lacked guts, I thought.

With an “aah”, my junior immediately made a face like the name rang a bell. “I know them. It’s the company of that businessman, Claudia Hodgins, right? They’re popular. Shocking that the name of a company would come from you.”

“I’m an adult, after all. I’d know the name of one or two renowned businesses at least.”

“That’s a lie, ain’t it? I already know you don’t have interest in anything but stars. Erm... if I’m not wrong, all the postal companies of Leiden got sucked into it. They also succeeded in company split-ups. Their president is a celebrity too. The newspaper series where he talks to other entrepreneurs is a trend... It got adapted into a book just recently. There’s a chapter in the extra edition where he talks to his secretary and the president of an affiliated company, and it’s so fun. The book’s in my room at the headquarters, so you can take it with you and read it all you want.”

“Is there nothing about business in that book? Like, about the Auto-Memories Doll field... Hum, according to my research, there should be a rather famous Auto-Memories Doll in it... Don’t know if she’s still there, though.”

I timidly attempted to ask, yet it seemed my junior didn’t know the details. That was expected. The number of people who could hire Auto-Memories Dolls was limited, so hardly anybody would know even the name of a famed Doll unless it was someone marginally acquainted with them.

“I wonder. I do sorta know that they apparently have one real beauty of a Doll. But I also have a good-looking face... so I don’t yield to beauties from here and there.”

“Got it. Thanks for the info. And for the nice conversation. Go home.”

“Sir...! If you get bored of being alone, please remember me!”

Leaving behind my clingy junior, I took off from that place. I strutted with a hand in my pocket.

My junior wasn’t a bad guy. He had a high-handed personality but fit into the category of good person. He must have talked to me like that because he knew about my background as an orphan who had lost his parents and got a job at the astronomical observatory by way of assistance from Shaher. Meaning he was worried about his senior, who would be spending his vacation alone with no lover or family. The reason why he had invited me to a house where his family would be was probably that he was exposing his intentions in his own way.

——But to hell with that.

I wanted to be alone. To say that the people who thought I was pitiful were the actual pitiful ones was my essence. I had always enjoyed watching the stars by myself anyway, and I enjoyed books about stars too. Book reading wasn’t meant to be done with two people, right? I liked being alone. This was also because I had lived a life of accepting solitude for a long time, but if anything, it was harder for me to settle down when I was in someone’s company.

When I turned the street corner and confirmed that he finally wasn’t following me anymore, I let out a relieved sigh.

——Alone at last. Time and space just for me.

The times when I was by myself like this were the ones I felt most comfortable in, and while I did have some things to reflect upon in that regard, unfortunately, I didn’t have a family to pester me about having children, unlike the rest of society. Because I was alone.

——I get that it isn’t a good thing.

There were things that you couldn’t get used to or change, despite understanding why you should. I was equal parts as obstinate as I felt inferior to those who had families. Only one person had ever made me want to be with her for a little longer when I was in her company.

——Only one.

Our circumstances were similar and we were also alike in that we were burdened with loneliness, but it wasn’t as if I liked her because of the similarity. It was because she seemed like she would be all right even if she were on her own, so I had wished to stay by her side. To get close to her. I “liked” her in that way. It wasn’t as if I wanted her to do something for me. I was the one who wanted to do something for her. It was that kind of “like”.

It had happened a long time ago.

After we had spent a little time together, she left. When we were bidding our farewells, I stopped her and confessed.

“Violet.”

I told her I was in love with her. I didn’t ask her, “I like you, so what do you wanna do?” – I simply told her I liked her.

“I’m... I’m... in the codex department now, but... I actually wanted to be in the literature collecting department like my father.”

She gave me this answer: the way that she cherished me was different.

“I had my hopes up that maybe my mother would come home one day if I waited here, bringing my father back with her... so I kept shutting myself in until this age, without ever stepping off into the outside world. That was possible in this place and I wanted it myself. But... just now...”

But if we ever happened to meet again, she wanted to spend time with me.

“I’ve just made up my mind. I’ll go around the world like you.”

In that moment, the woman who had said that she couldn’t feel emotions...

“I might face danger. I might lose my life without anyone ever finding my body, just like my parents. But—But that’s okay. I’m thinking of choosing that path.”

...smiled at me like a normal girl, looking happy, and told me something.

“If I do that, I’m sure we might get to meet someday, somewhere, under a starry sky. We’re both gypsies. And if that happens, will you...”

——...watch the stars with me again?

“Yes, Master.”

She told me that. She said it. This alone was already enough for me. This alone gave me the courage to come out of the world that I had been secluding myself in. Even if my love wasn’t requited, even if we never saw each other again, I was so happy.

She.

Violet.

Violet Evergarden.

Just that – just the fact that she had promised to watch the stars with me – had made me happy to the point of changing my life.

I kept making transfer requests ever since that day, finally earned approval and ventured myself into the outside world. The world other than Iustitia that I saw for the first time was bustling with a dizzying variety of things, which made me regret secluding myself. But surely, if I hadn’t met her, I would have taken a lot longer to go outside. No, I might have never left that bird cage to begin with.

That environment where I was allowed to wallow was terribly indulgent. After all, everyone was awfully nice to me for not being able to stand up, just because I was sad.

I didn’t simply think that I would definitely get to see her at least once. The probability of an astronomer and an Auto-Memories Doll, who had spent time together at work, meeting even once was surely the same as the meteor we had seen that day – once every two hundred years.

I was being ridiculous. If I really wanted to see her, I should just go visit her postal company in Leiden. The reason why I didn’t do it was that I was scared. That maybe her words were just out of friendliness, and that, if we did meet, she wouldn’t even remember me and I would be rejected. On top of being terrified of this, I also had a dream.

That if we ever happened to reunite, I wanted us to meet again truly by coincidence, under a starry sky.

If something like that really were to happen, just what would I do? Would I smile? Cry? Or ask for her love again?

I nodded at a passerby who had almost collided with me and started walking again. I had no particular destination. I could also go back to the headquarters just like this and be an idle bookworm in my own room, but going sightseeing around this city for at least a little bit was also good.

——I won’t get to see Violet if I stay in that place.

I had no free time to spend money, so I could afford the luxury of staying at a remotely nice hotel. Having made up my mind, I went into the main street and began looking for accommodation in the desert capital.

   Local idioms were honestly my weak point. Even though it was a common language, it was hard to catch because of the many dialects. When I talked to elders, I was done for.

However, I could perfectly understand that the inn’s owner, an old gentleman, had treated me like a “young lady”. Of course, I told him he was mistaken, but he didn’t hear it. He led me to my room with a hand around my hips.

The room was quite a high-class one, so I let it slide. If it were my old self, I would have been as furious as a raging fire. But I had grown up. By holding back my anger, I would manage to spend the night in a proper bed, where it didn’t seem like bugs would show up, so becoming an adult was for the best. Even if my self-respect decreased a little.

While I was chilling in the room and writing my diary, the sun went down in a blink of eye and it was getting late into the evening.

   “Heave-ho.”

It was the dead of night. I put on warm clothes and prepared myself to go out.

I wanted to observe the desert’s starry sky at my own leisure. As our activities had been limited to daytime ever since we had arrived here, I was now finally getting to do the things that I actually felt like doing. I had watched it together with everyone else from the windows of the cheap inn that the literature collecting department’s personnel had stayed at, but as expected, I wanted to see it from a spacious place with no noise or anything of the sort. As a scholar born in the so-called “capital of stargazing”, I obviously was going to have my fill of the desert’s night sky.

Unable to contain my feelings of excitement, I left the room after my lips relaxed a bit. For the heck of it, I greeted the innkeeper and told him I was going to see the stars. When I did so, he made a worried-looking face.

Apparently, women were forbidden of wandering outside at night in these lands. He couldn’t stop me from going out since I wasn’t a local, but warned me not to get too close to men. It wasn’t as if there were many ruffians among the people who walked around at night, but simply that this city had this kind of culture, so if the men suddenly spotted a woman, they might think badly of it. I had grown up in a men’s dormitory watching a bunch of idiots, so I understood what he was trying to say.

I showed him the retractable cane I was holding, and while I was at it, I also demonstrated with one swing that a blade came out from the tip as well. It was not for killing anyone, but it sufficed for making the other party recoil and holding them back.

Receiving the innkeeper’s applause from behind, I ventured myself outside.

The temperature gaps between nighttime and daytime was extreme in the desert. Having been raised in a mountaintop astronomical observatory, I was used to areas where there was a discrepancy in temperatures between day and night, but even then, I could bring myself to deem it as comfortable due to differences in humidity. The instant I stepped outside, I shuddered with a “brr”.

However, I forgot the cold as soon as I saw the sight spreading overhead. Surely, God must have dropped His jewel box. The starry sky unfolded in a way that made even someone like me come up with such a poetic saying.

Due to the fact that it was nighttime, there were few people out, but it wasn’t as if nobody was wandering about the city. Just as the innkeeper had said, it seemed that someone with a womanly appearance (I wasn’t a woman at all, though) walking around did catch people’s eyes, as they called to me countless times. I put myself on guard in each of those instances, and everyone withdrew with the same caution as the innkeeper.

Not letting the women walk around late at night was also meant for protecting them.

I had heard that there was a place for stargazing aimed at tourists somewhere a little far from the city, so I headed there, for safety as well. Several tents were erected around the sparse green area. In addition to privately built tents, there were also merchant tents selling drinks and food.

After looking through the signboards with the prices of the alcohol and warm soups that people of this region consumed and were familiar with, I picked the alcohol. I was an adult now and on vacation, so I told myself that it was okay to drink today and gave myself permission.

I went for a cloudy-colored alcoholic drink simmered in a large pot called the witch’s cauldron. It was warm and sweet, with a slightly spicy aftertaste. It warmed your body when you drank it and was the best delicacy to savor in cold weather.

Some people invited me to enter their tents, but I refused and steadily began setting up by arranging the astronomical observation tools that I had prepared. I assembled a demountable astronomical telescope over the sheets.

Even though this was said to be a place for stargazing, not everyone seemed to be astronomy freaks like in Iustitia – most of them were lying on the ground, enjoying a conversation with their companions while relishing in the jewels of the night. Everyone other than myself had simple handheld telescopes, so a few locals started appearing fussily around me, looking greatly interested. If anything, there weren’t just tourists.

A young father who had a child with him shyly came to ask me, “How much is it for you to let us take a look?” Apparently, he had mistaken me for a merchant.

“I don’t take money for it. It’s something for me to enjoy myself.”

The young parent made a bewildered face at my blunt reply, but nervously stepped in front of the kid and said, “It’s okay even if it’s just for a little bit, couldn’t you let this child take a peek?”

“Sure, it’s fine.”

He was also surprised at my ready consent. As he asked one more time if I really wasn’t going to charge for it, I declared that I wasn’t, swearing by this land’s god.

I beckoned the child. Our heights didn’t match since he was too small, so I lifted him by the hips.

“Can you see them?”

“Just a tad higher.”

“This much?”

“Amaziiing.”

At the child’s delighted look, the father and I locked eyes with each other and laughed. Then, other people who had been surrounding us at a distance came over one after another, asking me to let them see next. Whenever I said that I wasn’t charging any fee, they would ask me back, “Are you a saint or what?”.

In a land where you could see such beautiful stars, astronomical telescopes weren’t wild-spread among locals, enjoyed only by tourists and outsiders. That was probably the case. For them, this was an expensive item brought by outsiders. The stars were beautiful enough at naked eye, so if I had to say it, telescopes weren’t necessary. But if there was something that would help them see better, there would obviously be people saying that they want to take a look.

——Guess I’m gonna contact Shaher’s donors and indicate this place as a potential donation site.

If this pleased so many people, maybe it would be nice to have a telescope that everyone could look into, just as there were benches where everyone could sit on along the streets. I liked stars, so it made me happy even if just one more person fell in love with them.

“Having fun?”

“We are! You’re so generous!”

The figure of an elderly man much older than myself smiling like a boy, looking extremely happy, struck home pretty hard. It wasn’t like I wanted to hang out with anyone or that I had a preference for getting along with everybody. That wasn’t the case at all.

“This thing’s pricey, ain’t it? You okay with people touchin’ it without a care?”

“It’s not made for decoration; it’s something to look at.”

But these kinds of moments were nice.

——Very nice.

If these once-in-a-lifetime encounters would increase the proportion of stargazing in someone’s life, nothing could make me happier.

——When I get old, I guess I’m gonna run a rent-a-telescope or something like that somewhere.

I decided to take a few steps back and let everyone enjoy themselves.

This sensation that the joy of the surroundings was becoming more and more contagious. This feeling that people were gathering there only out of curiosity and adventurous spirit, not for profit. It didn’t seem fitting of my usual self, but something like this was also conceivable every once in a while.

With nothing to do, I naturally started looking around. Wonderful night, wonderful atmosphere.

The figure of someone standing still amongst it all entered my field of vision even without me wanting to. Everyone else had a companion.

The person was clad in dola like me and had a veil covering her face. From her physique, I could somehow presume that she was probably a woman.

Hoping that no weirdos would go talk to her, I worried about and kept watch over the woman, just like people had done for me. If she got caught up by anybody, should I intervene?

I used to hate women, yet here I was, concerning myself with one. I might have a misconstrued sense of justice, but I at least had to care.

I was just looking at her for a little while simply for that reason, but the instant that the wind blew strongly, all of my nerves became her captive. Her veil came off. It came off just slightly and I could see her face.

Her golden hair fluttered leniently. Her shapely profile was exposed under the starry sky. This beauty that could be discerned even in the nightly darkness was breathtaking.

It was really just a few seconds’ time and she immediately fixed the veil back on tight, but I had already seen her, so I knew. I knew.

I knew who that was.

Distancing myself from the telescope, I walked unsteadily towards her. Like winged bugs that gathered up to light.

This person literally shone like a lantern in my life. It was fire that wouldn’t disappear, no matter how much time passed. Time only strengthened the flame’s vigor.

That was why, aah, I... I...

“Violet Evergarden... is that you?”

That was why I called to her at that moment, with a shrill voice. As she looked at me, her eyes slowly crinkled, the corners of her lips went up and she smiled at me.

I felt like tearing up at that.

“It has been a while, Master.”

I had dreamed of this.

“Is it really you?”

I had dreamed of this day.

“Yes, Master.”

Always had been.

“Stupid, I’m not your master anymore... I have a name too... You’ve probably forgotten about it, but I... My name is...”

I had dreamed of this day and had always been thinking about what to say if we ever got to meet again.

“Mr. Leon Stephanotis. Is ‘Mr. Leon’ all right?”

If it were under a starry sky with not a single cloud, we could talk about its bare beauty. If it were on a rainy day, we could discuss the mythology related to the constellations.

“Did I mistake it? I have confidence in my memorization skills, but...”

If it were on a night where a once-in-every-two-centuries meteor were to pass by, we could share stories of the past in which we had observed the sky together.

“No... you got it right. You got it... Just ‘Leon’ is fine... Violet, the time you spent with me was so long ago, and yet, you sure... managed to...”

I had dreamed of this. You had no idea, did you, Violet Evergarden?

“You sure managed to remember.”

You were my first love. The first person I fell for. That day was the first time I confessed to someone.

“Leon, do you recall the promise we made?”

I opened the door to courage. I opened it thinking it would be okay even if I got hurt. But instead of hurting me, you accepted it. You broke my love to pieces, but still acknowledged it.

“Yeah.”

I had dreamed of this. Of this moment. You didn’t have to remember it. You could have forgotten what you had said to me. But if nothing else, I wanted to have one more look at you before I died.

“Have you memorized...”

One more time.

“...the names of a few stars?”

I wanted to see you one more time.

Violet Evergarden. I – the sixteen-year-old Leon Stephanotis – was in love with you.

He was in love with you. So was my current self. Now that you were in front of me, I could tell as much, even if I didn’t want to.

The flame inside my chest was saying, “This woman is the one who started the fire.” It told me that you were the woman who burned me up. You had burned me, and you still were. You melted everything that I had locked up within ice. It told me that you were the woman of my fate.

Violet wordlessly nodded in agreement. She nodded like a child. She was happy that I remembered what she had told me – I could tell by the facial expression she was making.

——You used to be so expressionless and doll-like – who was it that changed you so much?

You weren’t a doll anymore now. More like a girl who had someone’s love. You didn’t look like anything but that in my eyes ever since you were with me, though. But now, surely you had someone. This someone had changed you to that point, right?

“Violet,” I said, suppressing the pain of my sweltering chest. “If you have some time, won’t you spend it with me?” I asked.

I was attempting to open the door to courage again. Regardless of what awaited me beyond it, even if I regretted opening it. I asked nevertheless.

You changed me. You made me who I was. You probably didn’t know that. You didn’t have to.

“Yes, by all means.”

And this beautiful woman in front of me, too.

“I had been waiting for a day to come when I inform you about the fruits of my studies.”

Surely, she had also been made by someone.

“Should we ever meet, I had wanted to report them to you, even if you did not remember.”

Envy, affection and attachment ran through my body.

“That is what I was thinking.”

My sixteen-year-old self was screaming. “I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I was in love with you. I’m in love with you. Even now, I still like you,” he shouted.

I no longer had any of the youth and recklessness of those days. However, regarding my love for her, the me from back when I confessed to her was still here.

“I’m sure what I’m gonna say now will trouble you. But would you listen?”

I was still here. That version of me was still inside me.

Violet Evergarden, you...

“You can laugh if you want; you see...”

...to me, you... a woman like you was...

“You were my first love.”

Violet Evergarden, you...

“I still like you. Forgive me.”

To me, you were a woman of the stars.

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V1;  report viii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, romance

warnings: someone will be leaving...temporarily....

word count: 2.3k

g/n: sorry for posting this late sdfasdfa

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

There’s a knock on your door, one you instantly recognize as it’s a catchy beat you exclusively share with one person alone: Ayoung. “Mind if I came over?” she asks from the other side of the door. You roll your eyes, chuckling as you walk to your doorway, “I don’t even know why you even bother asking, honestly!” 

“Unlawful entry happens when a private person enters the property of another without consent from the owner. The same shall be punished by…” 

Ayoung pauses her sentence midway as you open the door. “And does that count when said owner had long given such private person the passcode to her door, Attorney Shin Ayoung?” 

It’s Ayoung who fondly rolls her eyes this time. She raises her hands, fingers turning white as she clutches onto two bags full of food. Your face lights up at the sight.  Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was severely mistaken - that, or he or she hadn’t taken a woman’s true source of wellbeing into consideration.

“What’s on our menu today?” 

“Oh you know our go-to review food. Seori halmeoni’s jjajjangmyeon house special!” Your mouth falls agape, astounded at how she even managed to get those when halmeoni’s special dish always sold out in the middle of the day. 

“Please don’t tell you lined up for hours for these...” 

“What if I told you I didn’t have to?” Ayoung winks while she takes her shoes off.  You grab the food from her hands and start setting the table. “What do you mean you didn’t have to?” She chuckles at your creased forehead, knowing you’re talking about the minimum one-hour waiting time of halmeoni’s stall - and that’s on off-peak hours.

“I think the landlady might’ve mentioned me moving to a new apartment, so when I was coming home from school today, she called me over to her stall and handed me these care packages.” 

“Awh, that’s so sweet of her!” Your chest warms at the thought and the reminder that your lovely neighbor was going to move away. Not to mention Chohee has similar plans too. 

Ayoung lets Netflix pick out a random movie, adjusting the lighting of your room enough for you to eat your dinner while watching. “Right, speaking of, won’t the hospitals be sending out acceptances for your post-graduate internship?” 

Pushing your laptop to Ayoung’s side of the table, you show her the screen of your mail - the same page you have been refreshing for hours now. “Well, let’s just hope for the best then, shall we?” 

Forty-five minutes into Miss Congeniality, a notification from your mail app lights up your phone screen. You see the header display that it’s from Woocheon, and it’s as if your heart drops to the ground, and your fingers are simply glued to the side of your phone, leaving you staring at it until the screen turns black again. 

Ayoung notices your silence and pauses the movie. “You okay?” the sweet girl places a comforting hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently to wake you from your trance. Gulping, you look at her expectantly. “It’s an email from Woocheon.” Her eyes widen along with yours. “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” 

“What if I didn’t make it?” 

“Unnie, you wouldn’t know unless you do.” 

With one eye closed, you turn to your laptop and click on the new mail. “Besides, they’d be a fool if they didn't accept the application of the same woman who topped the exam now, wouldn’t they?”

Just then, Chohee’s caller ID lights up your phone. 

“_____________!!!!!!!!!” Your best friend’s voice rings in your ears, your barely comprehensible name loud and clear with Chohee’s shrieking.

“I’m already positive you got accepted to Woocheon because I had this gut feeling and you know my gut never lied to me - plus I had it confirmed by a fortune teller…” Chohee starts, then takes a breather, “BUT guess what? I also made it to Daegu Medical Center!! GAH _________ I’m literally crying right now!!” 

“I’m so proud of you Chee, I really am,” your voice wavers, and you bite on your lip to keep yourself from pouring out all your feelings. “Don’t go me emotional right now, young woman! I’ve got makeup on, and my parents and I are going out to dinner, and I can’t ruin my cute outfit with tear-stained cheeks now, can I?” 

Typical Chohee. You smile. “Of course, Chee. I know. We’re gonna be actual doctors! You go ahead and enjoy your family time. Young-ie has come over with jjajjangmyeon.” 

“It’s jjajjang-night and none of you even bothered to send me an invite?! So much for our so-called friendship huh!” 

“Well, if you’re willing to drive three hours all the way from Daegu after you have dinner with your parents, you’re free to come. Otherwise, we’ll have to finish halmeoni’s recipe all by ourselves.” 

Chohee sighs from the other end of the line, while Ayoung watches your conversation with your best friend with the fondest of smiles. Chohee doesn’t stay long after that, declaring that she has to go. As soon as you put down your phone, Ayoung asks about your best friend, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did she choose Daegu Medical Center? I thought Woocheon was like the most sought after hospital for internships?” 

“Actually, DMC is being managed by Woocheon too. If I’m not mistaken, it’s also equally as hard to enter Woocheon. Plus her parents work there too, so DMC was the only hospital for her.” Ayoung nods her head in acknowledgment, then presses a button on the remote to continue the movie when an unknown number sends you a text.

Out of all people, you weren’t expecting Soomin to send you a text. You’d been meaning to hear from her so you excitedly send her a text back. 

Just the same as the last time you went here with Chohee, the tiny bell dings when you open the door to the cafe. Soomin instantly hears the sound and waves you over to her table. As you near, she rises from her seat with a big smile on her face. 

“________! Long time no see!” she exclaims, extending a hand outward to offer you the seat across hers. 

“Soomin! It’s been some time, hasn’t it? Would you believe it’s been months since we were reviewing our notes under strobe lights and loud music? Out of all the places to review though!” you laugh, setting your bag down. While Soomin goes through the menu, you take the opportunity to look for Jimin if he was around so you could introduce them to each other too. After all, there’s no harm casually meeting your workmates before meeting them formally as coworkers right? 

“You know, I was really looking forward to this day - especially when you had invited me to this lovely place for brunch…” A smile graces Soomin’s youthful features. “I actually know someone who world here...I’m not exactly sure if he’s working today though…” Once more, you glance over Soomin’s shoulders, hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of Jimin’s golden locks. Ah, yes. Speaking of goldilocks. 

“Wow! Just in time.... He’s actually here today! Jimin!” Your calling his name surprises him, immediately causing him to look for the source of the voice. He’s sporting a wide grin when he recognizes you from the counter, until he sees who you’re with then diverts his attention somewhere and walks away quickly. 

Absolutely taken aback by his reaction, you sit there for a moment with your mouth agape until Soomin clears her throat discreetly. “Um...o-okaayy, that was awfully strange...I’m sorry - he’s not usually like that.” You discreetly hide the disappointment in your voice, wondering if Jimin just literally pretended to not see you when you had even waved him over. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah...um...I’ll try to approach him later…” 

“Perhaps he’s uncomfortable meeting strangers?” 

Highly unlikely. Not when Jimin had no problem interacting with the other oath takers that he managed to get the whole group and your families away from the maze they called the convention center. Plus, he’s really good with the customers too who generously fill up the tip box after experiencing Jimin’s exemplary customer service. Jimin’s ability to handle social interactions is out of the question. 

“This Jimin guy,” Soomin starts, pointing a thumb towards the till, “how did you get to know him?” 

You pause for a moment, recalling your memories. “Honestly, I just realized it now, but I actually met him the same night I met you. He was in the same club we were dragged into, and when you convinced me to approach the cute guy at the bar, he actually saved me from a spiked drink - from the dude I was supposed to hit on. The next time I met Jimin was when Chohee and I went here for brunch too and we saw him working here, so I guess that’s how we all came to be friends…” Jimin’s cold-shoulder just moments ago appears in your thoughts. “....I guess...at least that’s what I thought.” 

You figure this apparent ‘friendship’ with Jimin wasn’t exactly as real as you thought it was.

It’s all the more surprising that Soomin seems to be the least interested in your meeting, or, that she already knew who Jimin was. She was simply nodding her head as you talked, occasionally sneaking a few glances at Jimin while he was serving orders to the other customers. 

You start patching things up, trying to put two and two together to see if it would all make sense. No way. Could it be? That these two had history? 

Just then, Soomin stands to excuse herself and heads over to the toilet. The moment she disappears from your sight, you hastily call Jimin over. “Are you okay? Was there a reason why you couldn’t come over earlier? I wanted to introduce two of my friends to each other, but one doesn’t seem to be so willing....” You cross your arms over your chest, murmuring your hurt feelings loud enough for Jimin to hear. 

“I’m sorry, ________. But your ‘friend’....she’s not really just someone uh…” 

“Was she your ex-girlfriend then?” Pursing your lips, you egg him to go on with a raise of your eyebrow. Jimin’s eyes widen and he shakes his head back and forth. “No! No...it’s not like that...she’s actually my boss.” 

His hesitant explanation doesn’t convince you one bit. Surely, there’s all the more reason for him not to blatantly ignore you when his boss was seated right in front of you the whole time, wasn’t it? 

Jimin sighs as he watches your reaction, knowing his clarification didn’t suffice. “Well she isn’t my boss, per se, but she is the daughter of the woman who owns this cafe. Wait, they own the whole building, really.” 

Oh. 

“And uh…” Jimin gulps. Hard. “....the other day…” He looks around warily. “...I might have spilled coffee all over her dress...which was white…” 

Oh. 

Shit. 

“Why didn’t you just quit? It would have been easier.” 

“I couldn’t. Not when Woocheon’s results weren’t out yet. I need my allowances too!” 

Just as if on a terrible cue, out of nowhere, Soomin appears beside Jimin. You weren’t about to abort from your original mission though. “Hah! Perfect timing! Um, Soomin, this is Jim…” Before you even finish your sentence, Jimin bows quickly, apologizes, then turns on his heel, declaring that he still had to get back to the kitchen to do stuff. 

Soomin remains silent, getting back to her seat quietly. You suddenly feel bad for her, seeing how Jimin makes every attempt to ignore her, and gets away with it every time. 

Unfortunately and unlike Chohee, you are unable to get out of an awkward situation in a snap of a finger, so you apologize in Jimin’s stead first. “I’m so sorry, uh, he can be really shy at first…” Hopefully that wasn’t a complete lie?

Much to your surprise, Soomin waves it off with a smile. “It’s no worry, really. He’s probably still bothered with him spilling coffee all over my dress but I assured him a couple of times that it wasn’t that big of a deal. And that I always have extra clothes stashed in my car.” 

Soomin shrugs as she takes a sip of her lemonade. “I told Jimin it was nothing afterwards, but he wouldn’t stop apologizing...and now he won’t look at me too.” You’re at a total loss, amazed at how she calmly and easily handled that situation like a true boss. 

“Besides, dwelling on such a small thing won’t be worth it. Not when we’ll be spending an entire year together…” 

You go over her statement again, partly confused. An entire year together? She meant the internship, probably? And above all that - she knew about Jimin too, even when the boy won’t even let himself get five meters close to Soomin?” 

“Ah yes, I’m sure Jimin has told you about Woocheon as well right?” 

Well, you were aware of that, but you weren’t so sure about how she knew about yours and Jimin’s applications. “Yeah...um, but….I’m sorry, was there a list online that mentioned all the chosen applicants for the internship program?” 

“Oh right - I sort of know some people from Woocheon who have told me about those who got accepted...It still feels like it was just yesterday when I was registering my classes for med school and now we're finally here!” 

The two of you toast the future, clinking your glasses of lemonade together. Nothing could get better than having your friends become your workmates too. Surely, it’s a sad fact that Chohee won’t be going to the same hospital as you would, but you’re beyond elated that she got into DMC where she’d always wanted to work at. 

At least you’ve got Jimin and Soomin by your side now, and hopefully, new friends you’ll meet along the way.

© joontier 2021

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Emma's Reckless Dating Game by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1 of 1

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Emma’s Reckless Dating Game

Emma’s head was pounding the moment she opened her eyes, a loud groan escaping her throat. She heard her roommate in the kitchen, the saccharine sounds of humming that should be illegal this early in the morning.

How much did she drink last night?

She can’t honestly remember after the fourth shot of tequila. They had been celebrating her best friend’s upcoming wedding to Emma’s brother, David.

Back in her freshman year of college, she remembered meeting Mary Margaret and immediately realizing she was the perfect match for her older brother. Of course, she was right, the two fell for each other almost at the first meeting. M’s couldn’t stop talking about how funny her brother was, how cute his eyes were when he laughed, or how much she loved the little curl at the back of his neck.

It was all disgusting and so very perfect.

If she hadn’t been so happy for them, she would have been nauseous. Though perhaps it was more from being jealous of what they had. Emma hadn’t exactly had any luck in the boyfriend department, in fact, if she were being honest, her dating life had pretty much been a disaster. Honestly, she couldn’t even lie to herself to make it seem any better.

If Mr. Right was out there somewhere, Emma was sure that by now he must have gotten lost or hit by a bus, because he sure wasn’t interested in finding her.

“It’s about time you got out of bed.”

Emma groaned, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I know you drank about as much as I did last night, how are you still so cheerful this morning?”

“I didn’t drink half as much as you did, but I have always held my liquor better than you.” She added cheerily.

“I guess I’m just not as lucky as you.” She said with a frown.

“Don’t start that, one day you’re gonna find someone, the perfect…”

“I know, I know, M’s, the perfect person who comes along at just the right moment, yada yada yada. You’ve been telling me this for years.” She drank her coffee as her friend simply rolled her eyes.

“It will happen for you; you just need to be patient.”

“I’m tired of being patient, I’d prefer a mind-blowing orgasm.”

“Emma.” Her friend reprimanded her.

“Don’t tell me it isn’t true, I’ve had the unfortunate experience of being in the next room when my brother comes over to cheeryou up. It still haunts my nightmares.”

“Oh God, you never told me you could hear us.”

“David isn’t exactly quiet. Oh baby, sing for me.” She mimicked in a deep voice as her friend’s cheeks reddened and she buried her face in her hands. “Don’t worry, I’m a big girl.”

“All you have to do is ask David, I’m sure he could set you up with one of his friends.”

Emma laughed loudly. “I think I’ll pass. David has terrible taste in friends.”

“Don’t judge everyone based on your feelings about Killian Jones.”

Killian Jones…

Her brother’s best friend and her constant nemesis. If Emma were in a superhero movie, she was sure that Killian Jones would be the villain trying to take her down and destroy the world, hellbent on revenge for his terrible outlook on life. At least that’s how Emma saw him, the rest of her friends were blinded by his blue eyes, persistent demeanor, and his ridiculous sarcastic quips.

Killian and David had been friends since elementary school, back when Emma was still wearing pig tails and braces. Her first memories of Killian were of him tugging her hair as he called an annoying brat. When he first started coming around, Emma thought he was cute, he had a pair of blue eyes that made her blush when he would stare at her, but as soon as he opened his mouth, his voice always dripping with sarcasm and insult, she quickly tired of him.

“I’m not dancing with him.” She announced angrily.

“Emma, it’s a tradition that the maid of honor and best man share a dance. You’ve danced with worse men than Killian.” She teased.

She groaned. “No one is worse than Killian Jones.”

~*~

10 years ago

“That’s a nice dress, though it would look better on my floor.” Emma rolled her eyes in annoyance at the man seated across from her at the bar. She had been set up with Walsh two nights ago by one of her college friends. He came from money; she could tell from the way he talked down to the waiter and basically anyone they had come into contact with that evening.

“This is only our second date; pretty sure I’m supposed to give you something to look forward to for next time.” She joked.

“I could imagine a lot of things to come back for.” His hand pressed again her thigh as she felt his fingertips slip under the hem of her dress. She slid her hand under the table and stilled his movement.

“Slow down there, Romeo.” She joked nervously as his hand retreated, a flash of anger in his eyes before it was gone, and a smile spread across his face.

“Let’s order some wine.” He lifted his hand, calling over the waiter to order something in French. He was quick to tell her how rare the wine was, one bottle cost more than three payments on her Volkswagen, a fact that was more disgusting to her than impressive. When they arrived at his place hours later, her head swimming in drink and chocolate, she shifted nervously on the couch as his fingers tried to invade her body. She pushed him back, trying to stop the attack of roving hands.

“Don’t fight it Emma, you know this is meant to be.” He growled against her ear. Her heart was pounding, her eyes looking wildly around the room for an escape.

“Bathroom.” She said quickly. “I need to freshen up.” She said as she stood from her spot on the couch, his hands gripping her arm so tightly she was sure it would leave a bruise. “I want to look my best.” She added, forcing a smile onto her face.

Locking the door behind her the moment he let her escape, she quickly dialed her brother’s number.

“You’ve reached David Nolan, I’m not available right now…”

“Dammit.” She growled, punching in her best friend’s number.

“It’s Mary, I’m not available, leave a message and have a blessed day…”

Emma ran down her contact list, each person either unavailable or someone she was no longer speaking to. She settled on the last name on her list, the one person she had no interest in seeking help from. Dialing the number, she held her breath.

“This better be important.” The voice growled into her ear.

“Killian?”

“You’ve got him, who’s this?”

“It’s Emma. Emma Nolan.” She said quietly.

“Emma? What the bloody hell are you calling me for?”

“Trust me, you were my last choice.” She said with a groan. “But I can’t reach David, and I need…I need a ride.”

“Do you know what bloody time it is?”

“Yeah I know, but I’m…”

“Look, I’m kind of in the middle of something right now…”She heard a woman’s voice in the background and rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, look just forget I called.”

There was silence on the other end before she heard another audible sigh. “Where do you need a ride to?”

“I was on a date, but I need to get home.”

“Then bloody ask the bloke to take you home.”

“I would but he’s…”

“Where are you?” He interrupted in annoyance.

“I’m at his house.” She whispered as she heard someone approaching the bathroom door.

“Emma, it’s late, how long does it take for you to get naked? I’m getting tired of waiting and I honestly don’t care what you look like right now.” Walsh’s voice boomed through from the other room.

“Who the hell is that?” Killian inquired on the other end of the line.

“Walsh Ozman.” She said quietly. “I um, I’ll be right out.” She hollered to the door.

“What the fuck are you doing at Walsh Ozman’s house?”Killian said angrily.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you right now. Just forget it…”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, just stay in the bathroom.” His voice was flat, annoyance in his inflection, but she could tell that there was no arguing with him as he hung up the phone.

She paced the floor of the bathroom, ignoring Walsh’s building anger from the other side of the locked door. When she heard the doorbell her heartbeat raced. She held her ear to the door, hearing a murmur on the other side. She unlocked the door and slipped into the hallway, listening as Walsh raised his voice.

“I think you’re mistaken, Jones, I don’t believe anyone needs you here.”

“I disagree.” Killian’s voice sounded angry. “Where’s Emma?”

Emma walked quickly toward the door, grabbing her purse from the couch. “Killian.” Emma said with a smile.

“Emma, what the fuck.” Walsh turned toward her, grabbing her by the arm. “Did you call this asshole?”

Emma flinched, looking down at his hand on her arm. “I forgot; I have a test in the morning. Killian offered to take me home.” The grip on her arm tightened and Emma panicked.

“I think we have some business to finish first. I’ll take you home after.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think you understood me earlier.” Killian’s voice boomed from behind them. “I’m here to take Emma home.” He stepped toward Walsh. “Now.”

Emma yanked her arm free, stepping quickly to stand behind Killian. His eyes never left Walsh as he spoke. “Why don’t you wait by my bike, Swan.” Emma didn’t flinch at the use of the stupid nickname he had for her, she didn’t wait another second as she rushed out the door, speeding down the sidewalk toward Killian’s motorcycle. She waited for what felt like minutes or hours until Killian stormed angrily out of the house, grabbing his helmet before mounting the bike. He looked back at her impatiently and she quickly climbed on behind him as he pulled away from the curb, speeding off into the night.

The moment he parked in front of her dorm she climbed off the bike. “Does David know you went out with him?” He asked angrily.

“He’s my brother not my dad.” She remarked sarcastically.

Killian shook his head in annoyance. “Stay away from Ozman.”

“You aren’t my keeper, either.” She glared.

“Look I don’t give a fuck who you date, but even you should have some sort of standard, love.”

She blew out an annoying sigh. “You’re gonna talk to me about standards. Which bimbo were you with tonight?”

“At least I didn’t need to call in a favor in order to escape from my date.” He glared, stepping toward her. “It’s all just a big game to you isn’t it? Emma’s reckless dating game.”

“Oh, go to hell, Jones.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ozman’s bad news, Swan. Stay away from him.”

Emma frowned, she knew tonight was bad, her senses had been tingling the moment Walsh drove them back to his place, but Killian Jones was the last person she wanted giving her advice about dating. “Like you stayed away from Milah?” She spat and he stepped back on his heels.

“You know what, Swan, fuck you.”

“You wish.” She shot back.

He stepped into her space, the blue of his eyes almost a darkened black as he stared into her. “Not if you were the last piece of ass on earth.” He narrowed his eyes. “Besides, I don’t do blondes.”

“Please, you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.” He dared as his eyes danced angrily.

Emma squared her shoulders, meeting his eyes in defiance. “You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.”

“Do me a favor, the next time your date turns out to be a dick, call a cab.” He slammed his helmet on his head, mounting his bike and speeding off into the dark.

~*~

Emma pushed the silver stick into her curls, the round pearl sitting on top of one of her golden tresses tucked against her head. She stood back, admiring herself in the mirror. At least the dress didn’t have ruffles, she thought, examining the light pink fabric swishing around her legs.

She heard fussing behind her and turned to see Mary Margaret tugging at her dress. “Stop that. You’re going to rip it.”

“God I’m so nervous.” Her friend said anxiously.

“It’s just David.” She laughed. “And you really like David.”

The ceremony was beautiful, Emma barely registered the look of disdain from Killian as he stood on the other side of her brother, his eyes staring a hole into her head. She returned his glance more than once, defiance in her eyes as she dared him to look away.

She didn’t have time for whatever had crawled up Killian’s ass and pissed him off. She was just happy for her brother and her best friend.

Sitting at the table, she quickly finished her first glass of wine, an injection of courage or tolerance for her upcoming dance with the man who had more than once caused her grief already this evening. The clanging of glasses pulled her from her thoughts as Killian stood beside her brother, raising his glass for his toast.

“David has always been a brother to me, someone I trusted with my life, which was probably good since we seemed to find ourselves in peril many times in college.” Her brother laughed and his wife elbowed him playfully. “David and I were doing quite well on our own, in college we were Gods.” He said, extending his arms wide. Emma rolled her eyes. “When I first met Mary, I knew those days would soon be over.” He smiled at her new sister-in-law. “I tried to be angry about it, but the damned woman is a marvel.” He smiled at her friend. “Who could be angry when your best friend finds the love of his life?” Killian raised his glass, his eyes momentarily locking with hers, the hair on her neck standing on end for a moment. “To finding the love of your life.” He placed his glass to his lips and sipped, glancing down at his brother and Mary Margaret as they toasted each other.

Emma shook off the odd sensation forming in her gut, looking away from Killian to collect her thoughts before it was her turn to speak.

“See he’s not such a bad guy.” Her friend whispered in her ear. “That was quite lovely.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Anyone can say nice words after a few drinks.” She teased as she stood from her seat. “Well, I’m not sure I can follow such a moving speech.” She said sarcastically, a small smirk on her lips as Killian’s eyes met hers. “I grew up my whole life around boys.” She smiled. “My brother and his friends tortured me endlessly.” David winked at Killian. “When I met Mary Margaret, I thought…finally, finally I have an ally.” She laughed. “Turns out she wasn’t just the person I needed to find, more than a sister I could share my secrets with, she was also destined to find her true love, with the man who would permanently make us sisters. I couldn’t have hoped for a better person for my brother, I hope you are both happy for the rest of your lives, no one deserves it more.”

Emma leaned over and hugged her friend. “I guess I have to share her now.” She laughed as her brother stood and hugged her.

The lights dimmed as the dancing began, she watched her brother and her best friend take to the floor arm in arm, a beautiful first dance as man and wife. When she heard her name announced over the speaker she stood and sighed, looking over at the man on the other end of the table.

“Come, love.” He held out his arm and she brushed past him, ignoring his gesture and storming toward the dance floor, turning once she reached the edge of the floor.

“Let’s get this over with already, Jones.” She complained with her arms crossed against her chest.

“As you wish.” He groaned, pulling her into his arms. “Relax, love. This doesn’t have to be painful.” He rolled his eyes.

“Trust me, it’s already painful.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and Emma felt the warmth as he pulled her against his chest.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m actually an excellent dancer.” He said with a smirk. “Unlike your two left feet.” He looked down between them as she tripped over his shoes.

“Whatever, dancing is stupid.”

“Dancing is simple, there’s only one rule, pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.” He guided her around the dance floor, nodding to her brother as he glided them past the couple dancing in the center. Emma tried to ignore the way it felt being held by Killian Jones, the man who had brought her nothing but anger and annoyance for years.

She watched the way his eyes flitted around the room, never landing on hers, almost as if he were purposely avoiding her gaze, yet the hand at her waist firmly gripped her, fingers hot against the flesh at her back. She wasn’t sure if it was the dance or his touch that was causing her body to overheat. When the song ended she stepped away from him quickly. “I need a drink.”

“Aye.” He responded. “I think I’ll join you in that.”

She expected to hate his company, to find him his usual abhorrent self, but the festivities seemed to have him in a mood that was at least tolerable. The next hour was spent taking turns downing as many shots as they could handle, almost as if they were challenging the other to stop. When Emma took her last shot, she felt the world around the man in front of her blur. Blue eyes swirling in her vision. “I uh need…” She placed her hand at his chest as she tried to stop the world from spinning.

“What do you need, Emma.” He asked, his voice deep and full of innuendo as the corner of his mouth turned upward in a smirk. Emma could feel herself leaning toward him. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Emma felt the urge to pull his mouth to hers.

“Bathroom, I need a bathroom.” She stuttered, slipping off her stool and stumbling quickly away from the man at the bar who’s eyes she felt still on her as she turned the corner.

She stood in front of the mirror staring at her blurry reflection. “He’s Killian Jones. Asshole extraordinaire.” She warned herself. “Even you don’t need to get laid that badly.” Sure, it had been a few years since she’d had a really good orgasm given to her from anyone besides herself, but whatever Killian Jones could provide her would not be worth the headache it would cause later. Squaring her shoulders, she splashed water on her face and reentered the reception hall.

As she turned the corner she saw her brother standing next to Killian, lost in conversation. As she got closer to them, she could hear their voices.

“Come on man, I’ve seen the way you look at Emma.”

“Piss off, she’s a pain in the arse. I only think of her as an annoying child. She’s never been anything but trouble.”

“So that’s why you’ve always been the one to run to her aid whenever she finds that trouble?”

“Twice. I’ve only done that twice.”

Emma furrowed her brow. Twice, she could only remember one time he had come to her aid, the night with Walsh.

“Yeah well if it wasn’t for you she might still be with that asshole, Cassidy.”

Cassidy? Emma thought. That didn’t make any sense. Killian barely even acknowledge Neal much less assisted her with anything when it came to him. Suddenly her brother noticed her approaching and he patted Killian on the shoulder. “Well, I better get back to my wife.” He said with a bow, leaving Killian at the counter. As he passed he nodded in her direction. “Don’t drink too much, sis.” He teased.

Killian turned toward her as she approached. Emma sat down at the counter, picking up her glass and downing the liquid before turning toward him.

“What do you think happened to Walsh?” She asked suddenly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Walsh, you know that guy I went out with right out of high school.”

“Why the fuck do you care what happened to him, please tell me you aren’t interested in reacquainting yourself with him?”

“I dunno, I guess I’m just being a bit introspective seeing as we’re at a wedding and I’m still not married.”

“Trust me, you didn’t want to marry a guy like Walsh Ozman.”

“I bet he’s got a shit ton of money now.” She laughed.

“Never known you to give a fuck about money, Swan.”

“I was always curious, but I never asked. What didyou say to him after I left the house that night?”

She recognized the obvious flinch, but he refused to look at her. “What?”

“To Walsh? You stayed in there for a while after I left, what did you say to him, cuz anytime he saw me on campus after that night, he ran the other direction.”

He laughed nervously and took a drink of his beer. “I don’t remember.” He deflected.

“Bullshit.” Emma spat and Killian pulled his drink from his lips.

“Perhaps I told him that it was in his best interest to forget your number.”

“Interesting…”

“Not sure if it was interesting, but he forgot it, didn’t he?” He said with a tap of his bottle against hers.

“So, that’s it huh, you told him to forget my number and he did? I don’t believe you.”

He chuckled his usual sarcastic laugh, the one that got under her skin when he didn’t want to deal with her. “Why not?”

“Because I think you said something to him, to scare him, which doesn’t make any sense to me at all.”

“The guy was a creep, Swan. You weren’t the first college student he had harassed, manhandled, or worse.” He added softly, a look of seriousness suddenly settling over him.

She shrugged. “Like you cared what happened to me anyway.”

“You were David’s baby sister, I couldn’t exactly let anything happen to you, he’d never forgive me.”

“So, you were looking out for Dave?” She hiccupped, the alcohol was really starting to go to her head.

“Look, it’s not my fault you kept calling me in the middle of the bloody night when you found yourself with irreputable men.”

“Kept calling?” She laughed. “I only called you once.” He paused as if he had said something he hadn’t meant to, taking another gulp of his drink, and turning away from her. She narrowed her eyes in his direction. “Killian, I only called you once.” She repeated.

He reached around the bar, grabbing a bottle of rum from under the counter and sliding off his stool. “I’m beat. Enjoy your evening, Swan.” She watched as he walked away from her, the bottle hanging from the hand at his side as he walked slowly toward the elevators.

Emma wandered lazily toward her friend, her feet felt heavy, her arms slightly numb. “There you are.” She said as Emma plopped down in the seat beside her.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” She tried not to slur her words.

“And more. But something tells me you’re having more fun than me.” She giggled and Emma held up her beer in a toast to her friend before taking another drink.

“Are you still drinking?” Emma looked up to see her brother approach.

“Don’t lecture me, dad.” She joked.

“Very funny, but you should probably slow down.” He sat down next to her. “Where did Killian go?”

“Probably drowning himself in his bottle of rum.” She laughed. She turned toward her brother. “Can I ask you something?”

He laughed, “You just did.”

“Whatever happened with Neal?”

He frowned, “Why are we talking about that asshole on my wedding night?”

“I don’t know, alcohol makes me nostalgic.” She shrugged. “I was just curious, you know, what happened to him after that night.”

“Which night?”

“You know that night.” She raised her eyebrow. “After I called you.”

“Emma, the last time I saw that idiot, was when you left on that trip to Tallahassee. I was so happy you came back alone, that I never wanted to ask you what went down.”

“Stop playing around, I called you, I told you where Neal was, and you sent me that cab to take me home and Neal never bothered me again.”

His brow raised and Emma could see he was considering his words. “Emma, I can honestly say I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then who sent the cab?”

~*~

5 years ago

“Neal, what’s in the bag?”

“Stop asking questions, dammit.” He shouted and Emma flinched.

“I just don’t understand what we’re doing.”

He advanced on her before he paused. “Look Ems, I just need you to do what I tell you. Can you do that?”

Emma shook her head anxiously. “Yeah, fine.”

“Good.” He brushed his hand against her hair before he fisted it into her locks, tugging her head backward. “And don’t question me again.” Her heart raced when his mouth attacked her neck, biting at her flesh before he tossed her back against the floor. “Now put the bag under the bed. I’m gonna grab us some food. Don’t fucking touch anything.” She shook her head nervously as she watched him rummage through his drawer, tucking something in the back of his pants before turning back to face her.

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“What did I just say?” He groaned. “Look, I’ll be back when I get back.” He yanked her off the floor by her arm, pain searing at her shoulder.

“That hurts.” She cried out before his hand cracked against her cheek.

“Just do what I told you to do, dammit.” Suddenly his face softened, and he pulled her closer to him. “I’m sorry baby, don’t make me do that again, ok, I don’t like having to hit you.”

“I’m sorry.” She answered quickly, rubbing her palm on her cheek.

“Be a good girl, I’ll be back soon.”

Emma stared at the bag on the bed for what felt like hours, debating whether to open it and look inside. She knew the moment she did, it would be the moment it all became real, she would have to make a choice. She walked closer to the bed, staring back at the door. She took another step before reaching for the bag, tugging at the zipper, and yanking it open.

“Shit.” She cursed to herself, staring down at the bundles of money, red stains on a few of them, gold watches littered between the bills. She reached in and moved the bundles around until she felt the cold butt of a gun. She was in over her head. She wasn’t aware of what Neal had been doing at each of the stops on their trip, but now she had a pretty good idea. She couldn’t live like this, it wasn’t her. She had thought that when Neal told her he wanted to start a new life with her in Tallahassee that he was done with all the petty thief stuff. All these months, she convinced herself he would change for her, that if she loved him, that it would be enough. But as she stood in the room, a pile of cash in a bag, blood smeared in Neal’s fingerprints on the bills, it was never going to be enough.

She picked up the phone and dialed her brother’s number. She needed to tell him before she chickened out. The moment the phone picked up she started talking, desperate to tell him everything.

“David, I need your help. I’ve screwed up. I know I told you that Neal had changed, that he was legit, but I’m in trouble. Neal…he…I need to get away from him now. I’m at a hotel in Florida and I’m scared. I’ll send you the address, but I need your help, please I…I just want to come home, I’m so sorry.” She sobbed.

“Emma…”

“Don’t talk, I don’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice. I’ll send you the info, I’ll change, I promise, it’s over with him, I…I promise. Just get me home and we never have to talk about Neal Cassidy again.”

She hung up the phone and waited until there was a honk outside the hotel. She peered out the window to see a cab waiting. She grabbed her stuff and ran through the door, never looking back.

~*~

Emma stood in front of the large ornate door, Room 515. Her head was still spinning when she pounded on the wooden frame. She stood impatiently until it flung open, Killian Jones stood in front of her, his hair a mess, wearing only a pair of boxers and a white t-shirt. “Couldn’t stop thinking of me, eh Swan?” He jeered; the half drank bottle of rum in his hand.

“Tallahassee.” She said firmly, pushing past him as she entered his room.

“Do come in.” He groaned as she heard the door shut behind her. “What do you want?”

“I know it was you that I talked to you that night, but how?”

He shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs or something. “Sorry, lass, I’m not following, what night?”

“I called David from my hotel room that night, but he swears he never talked to me. Yet someone sent me a cab, someone got me home.”

He shrugged. “Haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re on about, love.”

“Bullshit.” She stepped toward him. “Tonight, you said I kept calling you in the middle of the night, but I only called you once, because of Walsh.”

“I must have misspoken.” He shrugged, tossing himself down on his bed as he sat on the end of the mattress.

“I can tell you’re lying.” She glared as he reached up and touched the tip of his ear with his finger. “There. You do that thing with your ear when you’re either lying or nervous.”

“You’ve barge in my room in the middle of the night, interrupt my solitude, and start accusing me of lying about sending a cab to some damn hotel room in the middle of podunk Woodville, Florida, you can’t blame me for being foggy.”

Emma flinched and her eyes sought his from across the room. “I didn’t say where I was staying. I just said Tallahassee. How did you know the hotel was in Woodville?”

He shrugged, “I’m drunk lass, lucky guess.”

“I knew it was you.” She exclaimed.

“Fine, you caught me, I sent you a fucking cab, but to be fair you’re the one who told me not to talk that night.”

“But I called David, I know I did.”

He chuckled. “Aye, you did, but he was passed out drunk that night.”

“You never told him what I said on that call? Why?”

He laughed loudly. “Figured he didn’t need to know what his baby sister had gotten herself into, seeing as you were telling me you were done with it, I didn’t see the point. As long as Neal was out of the picture, it wasn’t necessary to break his heart.”

“So, you sent a cab, and just brought me home, no questions asked.”

“Aye.” He still wasn’t making eye contact with her. He wasn’t telling her the full story, she knew it.

“So, David never talked to Neal then.” She paced the room in front of him. “But Neal knew where I was, and yet he never came after…”

“He damn well better not have, I swore I’d tear him apart with my own hands.” Killian growled and Emma felt the room spin slightly.

“What did you just say?”

“That dumb fuck tried to square up to me like I couldn’t beat his ass, I swear he cried when I burned that fucking cash in front of him.” He swirled the bottle in his hands before tipping it back again to down the liquid.

“You came to Florida?”

He looked up and bit his lip. “I uh…What?”

“You just said you burned his cash, the cash was in Florida, in the hotel.”

“It’s late, I’m drunk, I think…” Emma walked over and grabbed the bottle out of his hand, throwing it across the room as it smashed into the wall, liquid and glass exploding at the contact. “What the bloody hell…”

“Tell me the truth.” She yelled. “Did you go to Florida?”

“Of course, I went to Florida, who else was going to keep that bastard from coming after you?” He stood up, staring at her as he shouted, and Emma felt her cheeks flush.

“But why?”

“Because he touched you. I saw it, the bruise on your cheek, you think I was just going to let him hit you and walk away?”

Emma sucked in her breath. “How, how did you know that?”

“I needed to make sure you got home. I waited outside your apartment, I saw the cab arrive, watched you get out. As soon as I saw your face, I knew he needed to be stopped.” He walked toward her. “So yeah, I went to Florida, to the address you had me send that cab to. Asshole was still there, waiting for you to come back.” Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing, all these years she thought David had helped her out of the situation and then did as she said, and never spoke about it again.

“You burned his cash?”

“Enough to tell him I was serious. If he ever came back for you, if he so much as tried to contact you…”

She stepped backwards, but he followed her until her back hit the wall, his eyes staring into hers. “Why? Why did you care at all about Neal?”

“I didn’t give a fuck about Neal.” He yelled, as he placed his hands on either side of her head, leaning toward her. “Don’t you get it Emma. It was you. It was always you.”

His mouth was on hers in an instant and Emma could barely catch up to the fact he was kissing her, Killian Jones was kissing her. She should be repulsed but in the moment all she could feel was the heat of his body pressed against hers, his fingers gripping her hair, pulling her against his mouth as her entire body hummed in excitement.

Without a second thought she pushed back, her hands against his chest, fisting in his t-shirt, her head falling back as his mouth explored her neck. She could barely contain the moan as his tongue slid against her jaw. She didn’t registered the moment they both stumbled across the room, his hands at her back, clawing at the zipper low on her hips. When they tripped against the bed, the straps of her gown pulled down her body, he stared at her with eager eyes. Emma couldn’t believe this was happening, things weren’t making sense. All these years, all the anger toward each other, the teasing, the torment, suddenly they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

He was Killian Jones. The man who had tormented her thoughts for years, Killian Jones, the man who had come to her rescue the night with Walsh, who had also apparently saved her from a terrible mistake with Neal. She was confused, overwhelmed, and incredibly horny, she realized.

“Swan…” His voice vibrated against her ear. “I think we should…”

Emma pulled away from him, looking at him as he swayed in front of her. “What?”

“I’m fuck as drunk.” He laughed. “Aaand, I’m pretty sure you’re having a difficult time standing on your own right now.”

“Wait a minute?” She said incredulously. “The Killian Jones, sex God extraordinaire is saying he’s too drunk to fuck?”

“Sex God?” He laughed. “Ok I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but anyway…I’m just saying…maybe we need to hit pause; besides I can’t exactly feel my lower half.” He stepped back, looking down at his boxers. “And I think I need to sit down.” He stumbled backward until his legs hit the bed, falling over until he was lying on his back.

“Seriously?” Emma sighed, watching as the man stilled, soft sounds of snoring filling the room. Maybe it was for the best, it’s not like it was smart for her and Killian to sleep together. She was Emma Nolan and he was Killian Jones, enemies since childhood. One drunken night couldn’t change that. Perhaps he was right, she needed to go back to her room, get some sleep, and wake up with a clear head before she made a mistake she wouldn’t be able take back.

~*~

She woke to a banging on her door that wouldn’t stop. “Good God.” She groaned, sitting up in her bed and stumbling toward the door. She yanked it open and stared angrily at whoever was making the noise.

“You look like shit, Swan.” Killian smiled at her in a way that no man who drank a bottle of rum should be smiling at a person, at whatever time it currently was in the morning.

“What do you want?”

“Brought you breakfast, figured you might need some dry toast.” He held up the white bag in his hands and she dropped her arm, letting him enter her room.

“Why are you so cheerful this morning, you drank half the bar last night.”

“I guess I hold my liquor better than you.”

“Why does everyone say that? Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m the one who left you passed out in your bed last night.”

“Ah, that.” He shrugged. “Perhaps that was for the best.”

She stared at him, watching as he looked everywhere around the room except for at her, avoiding her eyes. “Maybe.” She opened the bag and pulled out the toast, taking a bite and swallowing before speaking again. “Did you threaten Walsh also?” She asked with a shrug.

“Are we back to a Q&A session, Swan? What does it even matter?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. You hated me, you used to tease me mercilessly. You never even called me by my first name, making up that stupid Swan shit when I turned 13. So why, why would you care at all about my relationships?”

He exhaled loudly. “You want to know why I call you Swan?”

“You already told me that a long time ago, it was because I had a long stupid neck.”

He laughed. “You believed that shit?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You said it to my face.”

“I thought you could tell when I was lying.” He chuckled.

“Then why? Why do you call me that?” She asked in frustration.

“Because right before my eyes, you had grown into the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. You went from this silly little girl in pigtails and braces to this gorgeous beautiful swan I couldn’t keep my eyes off of.”

Emma’s world stopped. “What? No…that’s...”

“Crazy? Yeah well, I’ve been crazy about you for as long as I can remember, so welcome to my world.”

She laughed loudly. “You had a funny way of showing it, between the redheads, the brunettes, the…”

“But never blonde.” He added seriously.

“That’s not true, there had to be one or two that were…” She stopped and thought about the women that Killian had dated throughout the years, were there really no blondes?

“They wouldn’t have been you.” He answered the question she didn’t dare say out loud.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She implored.

“You had a type, usually idiotic moron, but it was still a type. Who was I to interfere with your ridiculous choices? Besides, you were my best friend’s little sister.” He paused before taking a step closer to her. “Would it have mattered if I did?”

Emma felt her heart skip as he stared down at her, her legs suddenly feeling unstable. “I don’t know…you’ve always just been David’s annoying friend.”

“Always?” He asked as his brow rose. “So, you never thought about it, you and I? Not even late at night, when you were alone…” His voice reverberated in her mind.

“No, of course not?” She laughed, the sound getting caught in her throat the moment his hand touched her cheek.

“Are you quite certain about that, love?”

“I…I don’t know.” Her mouth was dry as she thought back on her life, she had always found Killian attractive, and he found a way to get under her skin more times than she cared to admit, but there had been times when she was alone, times when she thought about the man in front of her in ways she knew she could never act on. She had always passed the feelings off as just needing to get laid. He was gorgeous after all, no one would deny that. “Maybe if you weren’t always such an ass all…”

Her words died in her throat the moment his mouth was on her neck, his hands at her waist pulling her against him. “You were saying…” She felt the arrogant smirk against her skin.

“You’re an ass.” She groaned, letting her hands slide against his neck as he continued to pepper kisses along her jaw until their lips met in a fiery explosion. She had to admit in the light of day, without the alcohol fogging her brain, that kissing Killian Jones was an entirely different yet exciting experience. It was like her body craved him in ways she had never admitted even in the darkness of her own solitude.

Tiny details suddenly came to life in her brain, the way he looked at her the night he came to get her at Walsh’s. Protective, possessive, almost feral, because of her.

Emma pulled him closer to her, desperately tugging at his hair to bring him closer, as he intoxicated her every sense. Emma had to admit she had wondered what kissing Killian was like, had thought about what his mouth could do, but experiencing it was a whole different thing. She felt his hands at her hips, fingers slipping under her shirt as his palm met skin searing a warm trail that caused her flesh to pebble under his touch.

As if a sudden desperation overtook her, she found herself gripping his shirt, pushing it up his chest as she explored the hair hidden beneath with her fingertips. “Perhaps you’ve imagined it a few times.” He teased, pushing her pajama bottoms over her hips, shoving them toward the ground.

“Shut up and take this off already.” She growled as he pulled his shirt over his head. Emma gulped, staring at his chest. She had obviously not spent enough time admiring this man for all his glory.

“Impatient, love?”

“Just curious if you live up to your reputation.” She teased.

“I can assure you; you won’t be disappointed.”

“That’s a mighty large assurance, considering I’m used to being disappointed.” She tore the button to his pants open, hoping to speed up the situation.

“As I said love, you have terrible taste in men, but I don’t intend to let you down.” He threw her bra behind her, his mouth suddenly pressing against one of her mounds, his tongue darting out to flick against her pert nipple.

“Oh God.” She cried out at the contact. “My taste in men has led me to this, so perhaps you have a point.” She groaned.

“Perhaps this is the first good choice you’ve made in a while.” His slid down her body his tongue tracing a line down her stomach, poking at her navel as he slid her panties down her body.

“We’ll see about that.” She said before moaning when his tongue slid closer to the area she needed him. “Fuck.” She growled looking down at him as he stared up at her.

“Something you want, Swan?”

“How can you be so irritating and yet so…” She clenched her teeth as he stood, pulling her naked toward the bed and sitting her on the mattress.

“So…?” He pressed her to continue as she lay back on the mattress. “Irritating yet devilishly handsome?” He smirked before settling between her legs. “I am quite dashing, aren’t I.” He pressed a kiss to her thigh.

“I’m going to be dashing you right out of this room if you don’t…” The heat of his tongue against her center caused her head to fall back and the words to die in her throat. She ignored the smirk she could feel form on his lips, he had a right to be cocky with the expertise use of his tongue that had set her on fire.

When his fingers slipped inside of her, hitting the spot she so desperately needed, she reached down and gripped his hair, pulling him against her until she felt the feeling build, an explosion unlike any she had experienced before, causing her to scream out, his name escaping from her lips before she could stop it.

He glanced up at her with a look that told her he knew how good he was, he was confident in his ability, she would give him that. “Holy shit.” She said breathlessly.

“Perhaps all you really needed was one really great orgasm to unwind that…”

“Are you going to just talk the whole time or?” He slid up her body, his mouth devouring every inch of skin he passed until she felt like she was ready to pass out again.

Why did he have to be so goddamn talented with that mouth of his? Because why wouldn’t Killian Jones, the man who could work her into such an angry frenzy that it left her shaking in frustration, be the same one who could give her the best damn orgasm she had ever had in her life.

Killian fucking Jones, she thought as she felt his erection against her thigh. He hesitated and she opened her eyes to see his trepidation. “You don’t happen to be carrying a condom with you, do you?”

Emma laughed. “Don’t you carry one everywhere you go? My brother always told me you were the…what did he call it?”

He rolled his eyes. “The Saint of…”

“Sexual preparation…yes that’s it.” She finished smugly. “Always prepared, like a boy scout.”

He groaned in frustration. “If you must know, it’s been a while, love.”

“I have a hard time believing that.” She snorted. “But since I’ve known you for almost my entire life, and since I’m protected already…”

“Look at this face, have I ever lied to you?”

She took in the sincerity in his crystal blue eyes, the genuine smile spread across his lips, and she was taken aback suddenly by the situation she was in. Lying naked in a bed with Killian Jones, a man she had known almost her entire life. Suddenly the entire thing felt safe to her, she had never had that before with a man, trust had been rare in her life.

Killian had been many things to her, an enemy, her brother’s best friend, but one thing he had never been, was a liar. In fact, she now realized that he had protected her all those years. All the times he had made comments about her reckless behavior with a man wasn’t because he found her annoying, or because he didn’t like her, in fact, he said them out of concern for her wellbeing. It was all overwhelming to think back and realize that perhaps his behavior was out of jealousy instead of disregard.

“Are you with me, love?”

Emma looked at the man staring at her with concern in his eyes. Lifting her head, she pressed her lips to his, a soft kiss that meant so much more to her that she could have thought. She was here, with him, in every way that mattered. Suddenly she wanted so much more than just knowing what it was like to have sex with Killian Jones, she wanted to be with Killian Jones.

She pulled back, staring in his eyes. “I’m right here.” She whispered. He dipped his head, their lips touching once more, but this time there was an urgency, a need that he returned with such emotion it overwhelmed her.

In one motion, he slid inside of her, filling her in a way she had never experienced before. She felt connected, not only by their bodies but by the way he was watching her, his eyes soft yet intense, never leaving her own with each thrust. It was as if suddenly his mouth stopped speaking but he was still saying so much.

He would always be there for her, protecting her, caring for her. She knew it somehow, could feel it in the way he moved. How had she not seen it all this time?

“Emma…” He whispered her name like a prayer in the air, so reverent as if it was the most valued word he had ever spoken in his life. She could feel the crescendo building inside of her with each heavy thrust, as his body glided against hers giving her all the friction she needed to reach the level she was seeking.

“Oh God…” She moaned, her body starting to shake as his mouth pressed against her ear.

“Come with me Emma…” His voice, full of sincerity, laced with pure desire was the only sound she needed to guide her to the high she so desperately sought. Her body tensed as she gripped him, her teeth grazing the flesh at his shoulder as he moaned her name over and over until they both had stilled, exhausted, and completely sated.

“Well, that was…” She paused with a sly smile. “Unexpectedly better than I imagined.”

“Why Swan, I thought you never imagined…” he smirked, causing her to shove him backwards on the bed, climbing onto his waist as she looked down at him.

“Are you going to continue being this cocky, or…”

“Have you ever known me to be any other way?” His brow rose playfully.

She rolled her eyes, leaning over to place her lips against his mouth, the heat between her legs already pooling in anticipation of repeating the act they had just completed.

Suddenly the door to her room swung open and Emma’s eyes widened as she flung herself onto the mattress, pulling the covers over their bodies.

“Emma…David and I were just…”

“Mary has a key to your room?” Killian asked with a groan. “Good to know.” His voice trailed off.

“I get locked out a lot…” She could hear her friend’s voice getting closer as she approached them and she threw the covers over Killian’s head the moment her friend entered the room, she sat up suddenly. “Are you still in bed?” Her friend exclaimed. “Check out is in two hours!”

Emma forced a yawn. “Not everyone gets up with the birds, M’s.”

“Not everyone drank as much as you did either…”

“Hey, he’s not in his room either.” Emma groaned as her brother’s voice sounded at the door, entering her room. “You’re still in bed? Check out is in 2 hours, I don’t want to get charged for another day because you sleep past noon.” He paused, looking around her room. “Jesus, did you have a party in here?”

“Hey, you know, this is real fun, but I haven’t even had my breakfast yet so…”

“Oh, right.” Her friend said excitedly. “I was just dropping off your key so you can water the plants while we’re gone. Killian will have a key too so I hope the two of you can watch the place without killing each other or burning our house down.”

“Great. Ok then, have a good trip.” Emma tried to rush the conversation. Her brother was already staring at her when suddenly his face drained of color.

“We should um…yeah…perhaps we should leave, darling.” He took his wife by the hand. “I think Emma would prefer to spend her morning doing other activities.” He winked and Emma died a little inside, but not nearly as much as when she felt Killian’s hand trail up her thigh. She jumped with a loud squeak.

“Other activities, she’s still in bed, David…” Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

“Yes, and from the looks of things, she was quite enjoying that.”

Emma tossed a pillow toward her brother. “Get out.”

“I don’t…” Her friend’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She scanned the bed, finally taking notice of the extra bump in the bed. “Good for you Emma, I know it’s been a while…” She said with a happy whisper but not quite low enough that the sentence was not heard by Killian whom she felt pinch the inside of her thigh. She leaned over onto him, driving her elbow into his chest causing him to grunt loudly through the comforter.

David dragged his wife toward the door, despite her desire to stay and discuss this new revelation with Emma. She gestured toward her as she was leaving. “Call me…” She giggled before David stopped in his tracks, staring at something on the floor. His mouth turned up in a grin before he looked back at Emma.

“Hey uh, you haven’t seen Killian have you?” He sang with a devilish smile.

“Have you tried the bar?” Another pinch to the inside of her thigh. “Ouch.” She exclaimed loudly as her brother continued to stare at her.

“Ok well, I’ll leave his key here.” He held the key up in his hand, dropping it on the table by the dresser.

“Sounds great, not sure when I’ll see him, but you know, I can take care of the place on my own anyway.” She smiled.

“Yeah, ok, well when you see him, you might want to let him know that the hotel has been trying to contact him. Apparently someone ran over his bike in the parking lot.”

“Bloody hell.” Killian exclaimed loudly from under the blankets and Emma groaned as her brother’s knowing smile grew on his face. “How bad is it?” Killian emerged from the comforter and Mary Margaret’s mouth opened wide.

“Oh God.” Emma squeezed her eyes shut.

“Anyway…” David continued with a grin, “See you when we get back. You and I need to have a little conversation about your intentions with my sister.” He warned with a wink, dragging Mary Margaret from the room, questions flying from her mouth until the door shut behind them.

“Oh God.” Emma sunk down into the bed, pulling the covers over her head.

“Do you think he was serious about my bike?”

Emma yanked the covers away, staring at Killian. “That’s what you took away from that entire situation?”

“Do you know how much I paid for that bloody thing?” He exclaimed. “He was joking right?”

“You don’t care that David and M’s just walked in on us, that they know that we had sex?”

He shrugged. “No, David thought we had sex years ago.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“He figured that was the reason you were always so hostile toward me.” He grinned and Emma’s mouth opened and closed like a fish trying to breathe.

“I was hostile to you?” She asked incredulously. “I’m pretty sure it was the other way around, you used to pull on my hair.”

He rolled over on top of her. “Because I thought you were adorable when you were mad. Your ears get red and…”

“Are you serious right now? You were trying to make me mad?”

“Let’s be honest love, it wasn’t a difficult task.” Emma’s eyes widened but he cut off her response with a kiss that removed all other thoughts from her mind. His body pressed against hers in all the right places, making her ache to feel him inside her again.

She squealed. “Check out is in…”

“I don’t bloody care when check out is.”

“If my brother finds out you made him pay for an additional day in the room to fuck his sister, he might…” Killian groaned, rolling over and pulling the sheets from her naked body. Emma frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Get up, we’re leaving.”

“What? But I didn’t even eat my breakfast…”

He threw her clothes at her, a pile landing on her head and around her body. “Let’s go love, lots to do. Plants to water, rooms to explore.”

“What are you talking about?”

He leaned over, pressing his lips to her neck. “Are you always going to be this gloriously impossible?”

She melted into his touch, the feeling of his hot breath against her ear. “Have you ever known me to be any other way?” She purred.

“I’ll take you any way I can get you, Swan.” He growled in her ear, and she felt her entire body shiver, pressing her legs together to calm the aching need that was growing.

“How fast can you drive?” She asked, meeting blue eyes filled with as much desire as she was feeling.

“Depends on whether or not my bike is destroyed in the parking lot because that bug of yours won’t make it home before dinner.” She slapped his arm playfully, before he captured her lips with his, causing her heart to speed up.

“We’re not really going to defile my brother’s house are we?” He bit his lip, staring at her with eyes that made her entire body quiver. Hell, she’d let him take her right on the bike outside the hotel if he kept looking at her like that. “Fuck it, I think we still have time before check out.”

He had her on her back before she could finish her sentence.

By the time David got the bill for 3 extra days at the hotel, Emma and Killian had become inseparable. They still fought, and he still got on her nerves at least twice a day, but there was no one that had her back the way he did.

In fact, Emma was sure that she would never find another man who loved her as fiercely as Killian Jones.

[queen-bunnyears]

Chapter Two - Christmas Eve

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader, Tom Holland x Reader (not at the same time)

Summary: Every year with Christmas Tom, his brothers, some friends and you rented a house in Scotland to celebrate the holidays and New Years Eve with a lot of friends. Last year’s christmas you and Harrison had something special going on, and this year he brings his new girlfriend. Chaos ensues.

Am I ignoring corona christmas lockdown in this fic? You bet your ass I am.

Am I posting three chapters in one night cus I forgot to post the first two? Yes ma’am I am. 

Wordcount: 1,6k

Warnings: consuming of alcohol, probs some swearing.

Chapter one - Chapter three

24 December 2020

Your car looked lonely in the empty parking space next to the cottage. You and Tom were early to make the house ready for everyone. Decorating the house with Tom and Harrison was tradition, but Harrison couldn't make it in time so it was just the two of you. You took boxes with lights, food and drinks from your trunk. The whole car was stuffed to the ceiling with enough food and drinks for everyone who was coming, about 10 friends. 

"Hey dreamy! Could you get those light strings? If you hang them around the porch I‘ll take the beer crates inside," Tom said, waving his hand in front of your face. You laughed and got to hanging strings of small lights around the porch and fence. When you were done the whole garden lit up. In the meantime Tom had emptied your car. You walked into the house. The christmas tree wasn't decorated yet, but the house already looked cosier than before. Tom walked in, two beers in his hands. 

"A beer while decorating?"

"Let's first pick rooms. Is that okay? I want to have a good room if I am gonna be the only single lady this week," you laughed, taking the beer from his hands, "but I won't say no to beer,"

You raced Tom up the stairs, going left and opening a door. You threw your bag on the bed and sat down on it, taking a sip of your beer. 

"Okay you won," he laughed. The room you had claimed was the prettiest of all rooms in the house. It had an ensuite bathroom, and a balcony. A large queen sized bed made the dream complete. Most other rooms were half the size of this one, so you were always fixed on claiming it as soon as you arrived. Tom and Harrison usually shared the other master room next to yours, with two single beds, so Tom wasn’t really upset you beat him. He threw his bag in the room next door and raced you down the stairs again.

Decorating time had started, and you knew you were going to be putting up lights and christmas decorations for hours. All I want for Christmas came on, you started singing along, hearing Tom bring in the ladder and scream from the top of his lungs, singing the song you had heard four times in the car already. Nothing could beat christmas.

“Sam!” you hugged Sam tightly. You and Sam were close every year at christmas. Your shared love for cooking got you spending hours in the kitchen together, making two excessive dinners for the actual christmas days, but also making lots of snacks and often cooking supper for everyone. You had met over coffee a week ago just for planning meals and groceries. 

“Y/n! So good to see you. How are you?” he asked. You chatted lightly, helping him and his girlfriend put their stuff in one of the empty rooms. By five Sam, Tuwaine and Jacob had arrived, only Harrison and Harry hadn’t yet. Everyone was in their bedroom, unpacking their bags. You walked to your car to grab your pillow you had left in the car, when you saw Harrison standing next to his car. 

“Hey Haz, “ you said, waving with your pillow in your hands. 

“Hey,” he said. Damn he looked good. His hair had grown a bit since you saw him last time, half a year ago. It looked more like last Christmas. 

“I should go back inside, see you later,” you said awkwardly, and turned around hurrying back into the cottage. 

"Oh, this room is pretty!" You looked up over the bag you were unpacking and saw a pretty woman standing next to the door.  "I see it's taken. I'm sorry,”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. There has to be an empty room left. You are Harry's girl right?”

‘No Harrison”s girlfriend actually,’ she smiled.  “Lily,” she extended her hand for you to shake, “you must be Y/n. Hazzi told me so much about you!”

“Oh, did he?” you said, shaking her hand, “I suppose only the bad parts. Please tell me everything he said during dinner,” 

“Oh I will! He spoke in detail about your talents for cooking,” you laughed. When she left you sat down on your bed, trying to oppress your laughter. How did he find her? You had never met someone who looked so subtly like you. The haircut, colour, her eye color, body shape… Yet there was something quite different about her. You remembered her calling Haz Hazzi, and you smiled. You were never gonna let him live that down. 

“Hey, so Haz brought his girlfriend,” you looked up to see Tom standing in your door, his pillow in his hands. 

“Yeah I just met her. So you came here to fix the bed situation?”

“Well Haz proposed swapping rooms, you and me sharing the double and them getting this one,”

“He can kiss my ass. No way I am giving up the private bathroom and balcony for his unprepared ass,” you muttered. Harrison wasn’t going to take your room, you weren’t gonna let that happen.  

“I thought so. So can you share your queen bed with me? I really don’t feel like sharing a room with them,” Tom said, already throwing his pillow your way.

“Sure,” you looked at your massive bed, “I think there is enough room for both of us.”

“What did you think of her?” Tom let himself fall onto the bed, sat up and patted the spot next to him. You sat down.

“Really Tom, I am fine,” 

“Okay, if you’re not you’ll tell me right?” he asked, eyes studying your face.

“Yeah Tom, I will. The only thing is,-” you hesitated, and Tom nudged you to keep talking, “Is it just me or does she look a bit like, well… Me?” Tom laughed a bit. 

“Yeah I thought so too. I guess Haz has a type,” you laughed too, giving him a hug. 

“Go get your bags, before I have taken up the entire closet,” you said. You were happy he was moving into your room. It was less lonely, and wasn’t that what Christmas was all about?

“Actually, I gotta do a last grocery run. Sam wanted a specific spice he hadn’t put on the list,” Tom said, making a funny face. 

“And you just go get it?” you rolled your eyes, “Well you do you,”

“Hey Y/n” 

“Jeez, should I put a non disturb sign on the door?” you muttered, looking up to see Harrison. ‘How are you doing Haz?” 

‘Uhm yeah,” he hesitated, “Great. How are you? How’s the bathtub?” 

“It’s lovely,” you rolled your eyes, “Tell me, you didn’t actually think I would swap rooms with you did you?” 

“No not really. I’ve known you for long enough to know you won’t give up your room because someone else was unprepared or unannounced,” he laughed. You smiled, glad it wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. 

“Well I just value my bathtime,” flashes of him fingering you in the bathtub last year flew through your mind, but you tried to ignore it. He hadn’t changed much since last year, but that was probably just the outside. 

“Have you met Lily?” 

“Yeah I have. She seems really sweet Haz,” you said honestly. “I am happy for you both.” 

“Thanks. I was afraid it was gonna be awkward between us you know,” he said. 

“Yeah me too. But it’ll be fine. See you later,” you hesitated, but then added teasingly, “Hazzi,”

“God isn’t that embarrassing. A terrible nickname, but she really likes it,” he laughed. 

You didn’t exactly know how many glasses you had of Harry’s “Christmas eve special”, but you knew you were drunk. It was one A.M., and you and Tom had been singing “Lonely this Christmas” from the top of your lungs, dancing around together, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree. Most were already to bed, but Harrison, Harry, Tom and you were still up. You broke yourself free from under Tom’s arm, heading towards the bathroom. You felt a hand on your arm and tried to shake it off. 

“Y/n,” were you mistaken or did Haz look completely sober? You apparently said that out loud, because he laughed. “Yeah I haven’t drank anything love,” You stepped back. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore Haz,” you said, stumbling towards the hallway. “Go to Lily,”

“I just wanted to say that you look good,” you weren’t sure if you heard him right. Your head was slightly spinning, and somewhere in your mind you registered Harry asking if you wanted one last drink.

“What?” Your eyes half closed, you tried to focus on what Harrison said. 

“You look good Y/n. Happy, I mean,” 

“Okay. I am,” he kept his hand on your arm and you really needed him to let you go. You needed to pee. You wanted to have fun, not have Harrison make you sad. “I gotta go.” you said, shaking his hand off. 

When you finally sat down on the toilet you held your head in your hands. Being drunk around Harrison appeared to be a bad idea. When you made your way back to the living room he was gone. Only Tom and Harry were there, together on the couch watching The Grinch. Tom looked up when you came in and gestured beside him on the couch. You dropped your body down and took another sip of your drink. Stupid Harrison. 

Chapter three

[concealeddarkness13]

All's Fair In Love And War (Especially When It's Both) Chess meets Miro

So, you know how I have story ideas then promptly seem to forget them? Not this one. This is the scene where Chess meets the son of the leaders of the country, and she becomes a national sensation overnight. Here is the info post. Content warning: kissing but not nsfw. Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @merigreenleaf, @maple-writes, and @pen-of-roses!

The music of the club pounded in my ears as I sipped my second drink. I had just gotten to a new city, and I was looking for someone to be with tonight. It had been a while, and I was tired of sleeping in the cold alone.

This was a club that didn't really care about someone's background. I could let my prosthetics shine in the pulsing lights, and no one said anything. It wasn't like people hated cyborgs, just certain ones. I didn't really get it, since we were victims. Or, I was pretty sure we were victims. I didn't remember anything of my time in the mysterious cyborg experiments. Or before that, for that matter.

People were dancing and laughing all around me. I would be out there too, but I had already danced for two hours with different partners, and I was fucking tired. It was looking like I wouldn't find anyone tonight.

Just as I thought that, someone approached me, and I turned to him with a smile. He had teal hair pulled back in a ponytail and purple eyes. And he was smirking at me. "Magpie! How are you?"

The smile slipped from my lips. "Excuse me? I think you might have mistaken me for someone else."

He looked confused for a few seconds before he shook it off and sat down next to me. "I just think you should be Magpie, because you just stole my heart."

I burst out laughing, and he joined me. In between gasps of laughter, I was able to speak. "That's one of the cheesiest pick-up lines I have ever heard!" When I did stop laughing, I leaned back and sipped my drink again. "Kudos for originality, though. I don't think anyone has ever called me Magpie before."

He bowed his head. "It was meant as a compliment, I assure you. So, what's your name, or should I just keep calling you Magpie?"

I leaned forward, closer to his face, but he didn't back off. Good sign. "Magpie suits me just fine. It's so much more mysterious that way. May I call you Raven?"

"I would be honored." He leaned closer too, so that our faces were inches from each other. "And may I ask what a beautiful Magpie is doing in a place like this?"

"Looking for a Raven who collects shiny things." I gestured at my prosthetics, and he grinned wider. "But only for a night. A Magpie must keep flitting from place to place, as you know."

He nodded. "Understandable." His eyes flitted to my lips and back to my eyes. "A Magpie should not be caged, after all."

"What a gentleman! So understanding." I brushed my hand lightly over his shirt, and he smirked. I dropped my voice low. "Let's go somewhere private then."

It was so dark outside, and I backed him up against the wall, and he held me so close that there was no space between us. I hadn't been so close to someone for a few months, but in my defense, I hadn't felt safe for a few months. I had been trying to find a place people didn't know me on sight, but that was harder than I had realized. So, finally, finally, I wouldn't be alone tonight.

He kissed me deeply and passionately, and my thoughts stopped wandering as I just focused on him. He slowly, carefully turned me around so I was against the wall, and he didn't cringe away whenever his hands touched my prosthetics. And it was wonderful.

We kept kissing when we could as we headed to a hotel, and he paid for the room, and when we got there, we kissed and I purposefully fell on the bed, and he laid over me and kept kissing me. I fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and when I had finished, I placed my hands on his chest, but then he pulled away from me.

I frowned and sat up after he moved away. "I'm sorry. Do you not like that?"

He shook his head and took my hands. Oh boy. "It's not that, my Magpie. It's just that...there is something I need to tell you." Oh joy. "I'm the son of the leaders of this country. Callum Miro Rey. I'm not supposed to take a relationship too far unless I'm promised to them, and if my parents found out that I did, there would be consequences for you. I'm sorry."

I clenched my jaw. Well, shit. What was I going to do now? "Well then I should probably leave." I stood up. An alleyway it was then.

He snagged my hand, and I looked back at him with a frown. He looked ashamed, at least. "That doesn't mean you have to be alone." How the fuck did he know that? "Please, spend the night with me."

I didn't pull my hand out of his grip. Shit, I really didn't want to be alone. "How do you know I'd be alone?" I paused, but he didn't say anything. "Also, Raven, what's the point of picking up shiny things if you're not gonna use them?"

He cocked his head. "We could still have a good time. And anyway, there's more to a relationship than the physical."

"Bullshit." I rubbed my face with my free hand, probably smearing some makeup. But this was just ridiculous. "Not for a Magpie that never stops moving." I paused. "But it would be nice." Shit. I was too soft.

He smirked. "I promise I won't disappoint." We got in bed, with clothes on. And it was nice. We still kissed and embraced and stayed close. And he held me so tenderly. I wasn't used to such gentle touch. I was actually able to fall asleep in his arms without any confusing dreams. 

*

Of course, the next morning, when I woke up, he was already gone. I made myself look more presentable before I walked outside and was greeted with my worst nightmare.

News stories screaming from every corner that the son of the leaders had been with a lowly girl from the mysterious cyborg experiments and how much of a scandal it was. Pictures of me kissing Raven up on every screen. 

I stared in disbelief. What the hell had he done? That idiot should have really known better. I would never be able to show my face here again.

But before I pushed away the thoughts and started hiding my face and leaving the city, a fancy car pulled up right in front of me. Oh shit. I sprinted away, down alleys and through tiny, crowded streets that surely would keep them from following me.

I even made it out of the city, but when I stopped to catch my breath and release a little of the smoke that had built up (yeah having fire magic because of fancy prosthetics that I knew nothing about and couldn't get rid of actually affected my body), the car was back. A man got out of the driver's side, and he walked over to me and bowed. "Director Rey and his wife would like to meet you. Please, don't resist." 

Shit, what had that Raven gotten me into?

[fandomanxiety-fa]

"Fluffy February" - Day Three

The Outerworlds

Felix Millstone X Captain Dottie

Summary: Felix has never left the Groundbreaker, but now he's on a new ship with a new Captain. And she is ready to travel all over the system, and not only is she traveling the system in a cool ship with a dark past, she's traveling with him. After time on the ship, the first place he goes to is Roseway with the Captain along with her annoying Vicar friend, and Felix has seen nothing like it.

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

The Unreliable.

This was his new home, and by the way, this home has so much food. So much food. He still couldn't even process how they needed this much food for five people! He was standing infront of the fridge, door swung open, rummaging through the endless supply of food. The Captain gave him a bunch of Rizzos that she bought on Groundbreaker for him, and he had eaten all of it. Now, he wanted something salty, an actual meal.

The cabinets!

He might as well lunged to the cabinets and began digging. While doing so he didn't realize he was being examined by his Captain, and soon he came back with expensive whiskey. It had been hidden far in the back out of view and had Max scrawled out on the side. Felix smirked to himself.

"I can't tell if your hungry, or looking to get roaring drunk," she chuckled a bit, and Felix whipped around in embarrassment.

"Hey, Boss! Erm, what's up?" Felix said, while putting the whiskey back in shame.

"Hey, get that back out. I want some too," she smiled, walking to the fridge.

She was beautiful, and Felix was embarrassed for acting like an animal.

"Honey, don't let me stop you! I came to eat too, ya' know."

Felix turned red all over. He had never been called honey before, and it left him all flustered as he fumbled to retrieve the whiskey from the cabinet. He managed to grab it and close the cabinet door with his leg when he stood up. She smiled bringing glasses whilst setting down things to make food on the burner. Felix watched her long bare legs as she walked towards him. He heard the glasses clink on the table, and it brought him out of the trance he was in.

Stop being so obvious!

He wanted to shrink away, as he watched her strong arms move when she grabbed a pan off a rack. He had never had been cooked for, especially for free, and by a girl! Especially a girl!

Woman Felix, she's a woman, man!

He watched her begin to make something he had never had before.

"You like spicy stuff, Felix?" She asked him, and he perked up nervously.

"Yeah! I do. What erm about you, Boss?" Felix replied, and she laughed at him.

"Why are you so nervous, Millstone?"

"I am not!"

She shook her head, "Felix, did you see the game with Rizzos Rangers this evening?"

"Oh yeah! It was a great game, Boss! You like the Rangers, Boss?" Felix asked, his nervousness went away.

"Oh, I love them! They are a really good team! My favorite! I love the thirty-fifth back!" She smiled, and he poured himself some whiskey.

She was to perfect.. the perfect woman. She loves Rizzos Rangers, is super strong, and-.

"Pour me a glass, will you?" She asked, peeking back at him with her green eyes.

They are Auntie Cleo green...

"Sure, Boss."

"Come on, don't call me that. Call me, Dot."

"Okay."

Dot.

Felix awoke in his bunk with a headache along with a loud rap on his door.

"Open this door right now!"

The Vicar.

"Go get spaced, I'm sleeping!" Felix yelled back, and he rolled over to the window.

"Ada! I request you open this door! Now!"

"I cannot, Vicar. It violates the crewmate Felix's privacy. On another note, I will not tolerate disrespect from the likes of you, Vicar."

He cussed loudly, stomping down the hall. He made his way down the stairs to the Captain's Quarters, where he tried to compose himself enough to call for the Captain to sort out this mess.

"Captain!"

No response.

"Captain!"

Silence.

"Captain! I would like to speak with you!"

The door whooshed open where a very angry looking Captain stood. She wore nothing but a shorts and a odd top that ended far above her stomach.

"Captain! Make yourself presentable first!" Max scolded, all while red eared.

"This is what your getting for rudely tearing me from bed, Vicar. Now what is it?" She growled, and he tried to keep eye contact.

"What is that...that top?"

Please put a top on...

"It's called a sports bra. Spit out what you want. Now."

"Felix has taken one if my belongings, Captain," Max stated, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. We both drank it. I will get you more. What are you even doing trying to drink this early? Or are you filling up that vial of yours?" She spoke, and he glared at her.

"That vial holds no such thing. You are mistaken, Captain."

"Yeah? Well, tell me what I took a big swig of then?"

Silence.

"Exactly, Vicar," she spoke, and then the door shut in his face.

Well played, Captain. I'll have to hide my spirits somewhere else...

Felix was excited. The Captain was going to Roseway now, and he couldn't wait. He had never been anywhere but Groundbreaker. He finished pulling his red sleeves on and began zipping it up while looking in the mirror. He looked at his wet hair through the steam in the mirror.

The water pressure is good here! And the water is warm! Not like that cold crap on the Groundbreaker!

He picked up his bracelet and slid it on his wrist, and then looked at all the toothbrushes in the cup on the sink.

Which one is mine? Do I use...um...do I have one? I lost mine when I moved in so, uh.

A knock erupted from the door, and he opened it, to reveal the Captian.

"I got you a new toothbrush. It's red, like your clothing," she spoke quietly, and he noticed she looked flustered.

"Aw thanks! What happened to my other one?" Felix asked, and she laughed nervously.

"I saw that it was...really old...and uh...well, I threw it out. It looked like it was really old. Sorry," she mumbled, and he smiled.

"Nah! That's fine! I just couldn't get a new one. Didn't have much money. Thanks, B-Dottie!" He smiled, and it was that boy-ish, cute smile he had.

She smiled and he closed the door when she left. He began brushing his teeth with joy.

This toothbrush is stiff...

He forgot what a new brush felt like. He'd only ever had one. The harsh bristles of the brush glided across his teeth as he though of his new serial-worthy Captain.

She's pretty, and looks like she could break my arm. Which is attractive too. I wonder if she is been everywhere. She seems like it. She has pretty eyes. A nice green. They have a look to them. I bet she's a good fighter and not some board lackey. Yeah! A rebel like me! That makes her even more hot!

Felix realized he had brushed his teeth until they bled, and quickly spat it all out of his mouth.

Oh no! Is this bad? Maybe I should see Ellie? Man, what does this mean? Crap! She probably is asleep! I'll go see the Captain.

Quickly Felix rushed out the door to see the Captain, where he spotted her heading down the stairs. He tapped her shoulder while spewing her name in panic.

"I brushed my teeth and now I'm bleeding!" He cried, and then she burst out laughing.

"Felix that's when you brush your teeth to hard! Your fine!"

"Oh."

He felt embarrassed and looked at his feet. The laughing ceased, and she put her hand on his forearm making him look at her.

"Don't feel bad! It's okay, Felix. I am glad you trust me to diagnose you!" She smiled sweetly, and footsteps came from behind.

"I came for my armor Captain," a voice that sounded an awful lot like a blood-boiling, loathing Vicar.

"Wait. He's coming?" Felix asked, and she sighed.

"You two are going to have to get along. I mean it. So, you'll get to bond over the mysterious Roseway mission," Dottie sighed, and Felix huffed.

He noticed some lockers up against the wall. Six to be exact. Dottie opens a door and began slipping armor on over her clothes.

"Your armor is in a locker over there, Felix," she pointed at the locker on the end.

"Has Ms. Fenhill expressed her concerns to you, Captain?" Max asked, and the Captain looked at him.

"Yes. She thinks it quote, this Roseway business smells, unquote. Do you have anything to say, Vicar?" Dottie asked slipping on her boots.

"I believe we should proceed with caution. This could very well be a trap," Max spoke, and Felix noticed Max's eyes linger a bit on Dottie.

Back off Vicar. She doesn't like you, man. Ew. Who would?

Felix pulled on his final armor piece besides his helmet and glanced back at Dottie, who now had her helmet on.

"Ready to go?" She asked him, and he nodded with an ear-to-ear grin.

This made her smile. She liked he's boy-ish smiles and light filled eyes. He was a dreamy, silly boy that makes her laugh. He proved that last night as they exchanged jokes over whiskey and spicy casserole.

Soon enough, they walked outside the ship. Felix's eyes squinted as the bright light outside hit his eyes, and the fresh air invaded his nose. Glancing around Felix saw beautiful plant life around him that was foreign to him.

Pictures and serials didn't do the outside world justice!

"Felix? Honey? Are you alright?"

He hasn't noticed the tears going down his face, and he grew embarrassed trying swipe them away.

"You've never been off Groundbreaker?" The Vicar asked.

"No. He hasn't. Hey, we can go anywhere you want, Felix! And here, let me show you something," Dottie spoke soft and timid, reaching into her pack.

She pulled out a journal, and opened it while leaning to show him.

"It can be our project. I've been putting different flowers and ferns and such inside from each planet. To remember things and stuff. I've been writing what I can that I know about them. We both can do it!" She smiled at him, and he looked at her pretty handwriting and plants smashed into the pages within the journal.

"Yeah, Dot! Can I sign it? Read the other pages?" He asked excited, while wiping some tears away.

"Duh! Your family now! You can write your name in it!"

His heart grew warm. He smiled and almost started crying, but held it back (he couldn't afford for that insufferable Vicar to see him like that again).

"Now," she began, slipping the book in her bag, "let's go!"

Family.

His heart was pounding with joy at the thought. If a family was a Captain who could break his arm, a pirate sawbones, a sweet mechanic, and a grumpy "Vicar" (that didn't really count)...well, this was a interesting family for sure.

And he didn't want it any other way, because life wasnt dull anymore, and now he had a purpose. He could go anywhere he wanted, no longer being shacked to the Groundbreaker by poverty.

And most of all...

I've got a family!

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

[imnotwolverine]

A Devil’s Duet - Part 2

August Walker x OC Anna

Author’s note: Readers or not, I’m just going ahead with this -- Tumblr are you eating my posts again?! What’s happening? :( 

Word count: 1.527

Warnings: unprotected smutty smut, stalking, strong language, references to graphic deaths

< Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 >

.AIR

“I flew up high, but the sun burned too hot. Too strong. And now my wings are but memories as I drift in an endless ocean.”

--

.AIR - I miss you

‘For international calls, please press *beep beep beep* [..] Cannot answer your call right now. Please leave a message after the..’

Sighing quietly Anna looked out through the frozen glass of the phone booth, dark silhouettes passing by in the gloomy New York night. 

*beeeep* Sounded the shrill phone line. 

'Mama, you’re not answering my phone calls,’ She hesitated. ‘I miss you and I’ll try to call you later, okay?’

With a heavy click she put the phone back, her arms wrapping around her winter jacket as she stumbled back out in the restless nightlife. 

Not far off a man leaned into a grey sedan, most of his acne-damaged skin hiding beneath a fedora. 

An embrace was shared, his wet lips brushing over her cheek like a snail’s trace. It was just for show, his face lighting up as he started some animated chatter, the two of them getting in the car. 

‘Miss me?’ He pulled his door closed and looked at Anna, her eyes giving him an unamused glare before she quickly put a smile back on her angelic cheeks - aware that some might be watching. 

‘You? Ha! Just drive already, will you? I have somewhere I need to be.’  

.AIR - I forget you not

She had about three cocktails too many. She knew. But she was willing to suffer for it in the morning. 

The bar she was leaning into was bustling with life, fellow clubbers pushing her left and right to get their orders in, her shoulders solid as marble as she twirled her straw in her mojito, uncaring about the heavy beat that rung in her ears. 

‘Hello angel.’ Yet another jerk tried a move, and she was this close to beat him into a childless future, before she turned around and found the devil himself looking back at her. At least, it probably was. 

Staring up at him, she decided it should be illegal to look this handsome with a moustache, the combination of his deep voice with the smooth curls and face hair leaving little doubt that this must indeed be the one she was looking for. The coincidence. 

‘Hello devil.’ 

He smirked and eyed the dance floor. ‘No dancing tonight?’ 

She shrugged, then hinted at her feet; one bandaged in walking plaster. 

‘You’d have to carry me.’ 

Another jerkish idiot pushed Anna into her ribs and before she could serve him the long impending groin-kick instead, she was hoisted up, her drink now abandoned on the busy bar. 

‘HEY. FUCK.’ That heavy Russian lilt was back on her sharp tongue, but it was quickly silenced as this devil took whatever he pleased, hands groping at her bum as he placed the two of them in the middle of the dancing crowd, making them disappear from the world like dust in the desert. 

‘Great idea, angel.’ The music of his voice teased and she was quick to recuperate, deciding that she might as well indulge a little more, her hands tugging aggressively at his blouse. 

‘Is that how you dance?’ 

Their eyes shared a look and Anna licked her lips - him being here made everything so much easier. ‘No, this is.’ She whispered into his ear, climbing onto his hip as she twirled her groin into his. 

And again he eagerly took from her gifts, her dress skirting up and his flies zipping down, the two finding a solid rhythm of lip-locks and hip-rocks. Uncaring of the consequences of their little escapade.

For a moment Anna flew again, her sorrows forgotten, her fingers marking him so he wouldn’t get away this time. 

--

.AIR - I remember

‘How old are you?’ The solemn man settled on the metal chair before her, blue TL-light buzzing in the dense air of the empty grey room. 

‘Fourteen.’ She bit, looking straight into his dead-pale eyes. 

‘Ha.’ He settled back and eyed the files before them on the metal desk, crimson red spluttered over the corpse of one malicious ballet teacher, child pornography scattered around him like the wings of an angel. 

‘A little young to go to the Gulag, no?’ 

Their eyes met as the man closed the folder before him. 

‘I have a proposition for you, little girl.’  

--

.AIR - I’ll take your breath away

The cigarette burned ash between his lips as he studied the crying figure near the fountain. Red hair, blue eyes. Foot in plaster. Her. He didn’t even know her name. 

What are you doing there angel? He flicked the falling ash onto the cold pavement and licked his lips, his feet hesitating to get near when another person stepped out of the theatre, chubby cheeks soon laying eyes on the crying woman, too. 

The two knew each other, apparently, his snaky fingers wrapping around her shoulder as he comforted the weeping angel, some conversation being exchanged before they both got up, a car now arriving which they both slid into. 

But before she joined the man, she looked up. At him. Straight at him, blue eyes sparkling with not tears but determination, making him choke on the smoke of his cigarette, the ashen tranquilliser suddenly too hot in his lungs. 

'Fuck.’ 

--

.AIR - I spy with my little eye

‘I see.’ Two hands pushed a folder away. One in a library in Easter-Upper, one in a gloomy office building, CIA. 

A response that two pairs of watching eyes thought strange. Was something the matter with their best agent’s ability to see this mission through? It was already taking far too long. 

The acne-damaged face of Anna’s messenger frowned. ‘I spy with my little eye that something is up with you, little angel. Get yourself sorted.’ 

‘I’ll get it done.’ Two voices confirmed solemnly. 

--

.AIR - I crave violence

‘It’s done.’ She settled back in the car seat as the man started to drive, the string of red lights before them slowing the car before they could get to any significant speed. 

‘Almost done.’ He corrected, making her frown at him. 

‘A deal’s a deal, Sergei.’ 

‘You’re not done angel.’ And with that he pressed his phone into her hands, gesturing her to look at the video that was ready to play, the small screen showcasing a slumped forward, hooded and bound figure, a hand moving into the image to pull it off, red curls springing free from the rough material. 

Air escaped Anna’s quiet lips. 

Mom. 

‘It’s the work of some terrorist group called..the Apostles. American. We’ve got news your guy may be involved.’ 

‘The one I tracked?’ 

‘Mm.’ He pushed in the gas pedal. ‘If we finish this, we’ll avenge your mother’s death and free the world of the American poison once and for all.’ He clicked on his direction indicator and turned his head to make sure he could make a safe lane change. 

Anna blinked, replaying the video beneath her fingertips again and again, that same American poison bubbling back up in her throat after her reckless behaviour last night. She could still feel the devil’s traces deep inside her, bleeding into her usually calm nerves. She could still smell him, taste him, feel him. Big and strong between her quivering thighs. 

In that moment she had tasted the freedom that was so close. But now it was taken from her yet again. Her wings clipped short and her hands bound, it was now that same devil she had to take down, the contract drawn in her own mother’s blood. 

--

.AIR - I think we should dance

The Parisian air was different. Both in the lungs and in the atmosphere, the winter evening much less cold and harsh in comparison to New York.

Anna had opted for a slightly more revealing dress to visit this club, a high slit showcasing her long dancing legs, two heels clicking beneath her feet. 

She was glad to be rid of that obnoxious fake plaster, and even more glad that she no longer had to lie to her now ex-colleagues. What she did miss however, was dancing itself, her feet already moving to the dance floor before she had gotten her first drink, the well-dressed crowd bouncing on the smooth low grind of an electronic bass. 

‘Hey.’ A man in his fourties clasped onto Anna’s shoulder, ‘Aren’t you Anna Karikova? New York Ballet? Ha! What a small world..’ 

Anna’s face froze over as realisation hit that her boss had been right: never attract too much attention to yourself. With a swift tug she tried to free herself from his hand, but he only held on tighter, immediate panic bubbling up in her gut when another man intervened, wedging himself in between the two of them. 

‘I’m sorry..I eh..think you are mistaken. This my wife..and, she’s hardly a dancer.’ 

Two devil blue eyes looked back at Anna, her breath escaping her lips as the world indeed had become terribly small, the risk of a failing mission suddenly much too close for comfort. 

‘Looks like we’re dancing again, angel.’ He purred, the sweat breaking clear on Anna’s back. 

Shit.  

[fandomanxiety-library]

"Fluffy February" - Day Three

The Outer Worlds

Felix Millstone X Captain Dottie

Summary: Felix has never left the Groundbreaker, but now he's on a new ship with a new Captain. And she is ready to travel all over the system, and not only is she traveling the system in a cool ship with a dark past, she's traveling with him. After time on the ship, the first place he goes to is Roseway with the Captain along with her annoying Vicar friend, and Felix has seen nothing like it.

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

The Unreliable.

This was his new home, and by the way, this home has so much food. So much food. He still couldn't even process how they needed this much food for five people! He was standing infront of the fridge, door swung open, rummaging through the endless supply of food. The Captain gave him a bunch of Rizzos that she bought on Groundbreaker for him, and he had eaten all of it. Now, he wanted something salty, an actual meal.

The cabinets!

He might as well lunged to the cabinets and began digging. While doing so he didn't realize he was being examined by his Captain, and soon he came back with expensive whiskey. It had been hidden far in the back out of view and had Max scrawled out on the side. Felix smirked to himself.

"I can't tell if your hungry, or looking to get roaring drunk," she chuckled a bit, and Felix whipped around in embarrassment.

"Hey, Boss! Erm, what's up?" Felix said, while putting the whiskey back in shame.

"Hey, get that back out. I want some too," she smiled, walking to the fridge.

She was beautiful, and Felix was embarrassed for acting like an animal.

"Honey, don't let me stop you! I came to eat too, ya' know."

Felix turned red all over. He had never been called honey before, and it left him all flustered as he fumbled to retrieve the whiskey from the cabinet. He managed to grab it and close the cabinet door with his leg when he stood up. She smiled bringing glasses whilst setting down things to make food on the burner. Felix watched her long bare legs as she walked towards him. He heard the glasses clink on the table, and it brought him out of the trance he was in.

Stop being so obvious!

He wanted to shrink away, as he watched her strong arms move when she grabbed a pan off a rack. He had never had been cooked for, especially for free, and by a girl! Especially a girl!

Woman Felix, she's a woman, man!

He watched her begin to make something he had never had before.

"You like spicy stuff, Felix?" She asked him, and he perked up nervously.

"Yeah! I do. What erm about you, Boss?" Felix replied, and she laughed at him.

"Why are you so nervous, Millstone?"

"I am not!"

She shook her head, "Felix, did you see the game with Rizzos Rangers this evening?"

"Oh yeah! It was a great game, Boss! You like the Rangers, Boss?" Felix asked, his nervousness went away.

"Oh, I love them! They are a really good team! My favorite! I love the thirty-fifth back!" She smiled, and he poured himself some whiskey.

She is to perfect.. the perfect woman. She loves Rizzos Rangers, is super strong, and-.

"Pour me a glass, will you?" She asked, peeking back at him with her green eyes.

They are Auntie Cleo green...

"Sure, Boss."

"Come on, don't call me that. Call me, Dot."

"Okay."

Dot.

Felix awoke in his bunk with a headache along with a loud rap on his door.

"Open this door right now!"

The Vicar.

"Go get spaced, I'm sleeping!" Felix yelled back, and he rolled over to the window.

"Ada! I request you open this door! Now!"

"I cannot, Vicar. It violates the crewmate Felix's privacy. On another note, I will not tolerate disrespect from the likes of you, Vicar."

He cussed loudly, stomping down the hall. He made his way down the stairs to the Captain's Quarters, where he tried to compose himself enough to call for the Captain to sort out this mess.

"Captain!"

No response.

"Captain!"

Silence.

"Captain! I would like to speak with you!"

The door whooshed open where a very angry looking Captain stood. She wore nothing but a shorts and a odd top that ended far above her stomach.

"Captain! Make yourself presentable first!" Max scolded, all while red eared.

"This is what your getting for rudely tearing me from bed, Vicar. Now what is it?" She growled, and he tried to keep eye contact.

"What is that...that top?"

Please put a top on...

"It's called a sports bra. Spit out what you want. Now."

"Felix has taken one if my belongings, Captain," Max stated, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. We both drank it. I will get you more. What are you even doing trying to drink this early? Or are you filling up that vial of yours?" She spoke, and he glared at her.

"That vial holds no such thing. You are mistaken, Captain."

"Yeah? Well, tell me what I took a big swig of then?"

Silence.

"Exactly, Vicar," she spoke, and then the door shut in his face.

Well played, Captain. I'll have to hide my spirits somewhere else...

Felix was excited. The Captain was going to Roseway now, and he couldn't wait. He had never been anywhere but Groundbreaker. He finished pulling his red sleeves on and began zipping it up while looking in the mirror. He looked at his wet hair through the steam in the mirror.

The water pressure is good here! And the water is warm! Not like that cold crap on the Groundbreaker!

He picked up his bracelet and slid it on his wrist, and then looked at all the toothbrushes in the cup on the sink.

Which one is mine? Do I use...um...do I have one? I lost mine when I moved in so, uh.

A knock erupted from the door, and he opened it, to reveal the Captian.

"I got you a new toothbrush. It's red, like your clothing," she spoke quietly, and he noticed she looked flustered.

"Aw thanks! What happened to my other one?" Felix asked, and she laughed nervously.

"I saw that it was...really old...and uh...well, I threw it out. It looked like it was really old. Sorry," she mumbled, and he smiled.

"Nah! That's fine! I just couldn't get a new one. Didn't have much money. Thanks, B-Dottie!" He smiled, and it was that boy-ish, cute smile he had.

She smiled and he closed the door when she left. He began brushing his teeth with joy.

This toothbrush is stiff...

He forgot what a new brush felt like. He'd only ever had one. The harsh bristles of the brush glided across his teeth as he though of his new serial-worthy Captain.

She's pretty, and looks like she could break my arm. Which is attractive too. I wonder if she is been everywhere. She seems like it. She has pretty eyes. A nice green. They have a look to them. I bet she's a good fighter and not some board lackey. Yeah! A rebel like me! That makes her even more hot!

Felix realized he had brushed his teeth until they bled, and quickly spat it all out of his mouth.

Oh no! Is this bad? Maybe I should see Ellie? Man, what does this mean? Crap! She probably is asleep! I'll go see the Captain.

Quickly Felix rushed out the door to see the Captain, where he spotted her heading down the stairs. He tapped her shoulder while spewing her name in panic.

"I brushed my teeth and now I'm bleeding!" He cried, and then she burst out laughing.

"Felix that's when you brush your teeth to hard! Your fine!"

"Oh."

He felt embarrassed and looked at his feet. The laughing ceased, and she put her hand on his forearm making him look at her.

"Don't feel bad! It's okay, Felix. I am glad you trust me to diagnose you!" She smiled sweetly, and footsteps came from behind.

"I came for my armor Captain," a voice that sounded an awful lot like a blood-boiling, loathing Vicar.

"Wait. He's coming?" Felix asked, and she sighed.

"You two are going to have to get along. I mean it. So, you'll get to bond over the mysterious Roseway mission," Dottie sighed, and Felix huffed.

He noticed some lockers up against the wall. Six to be exact. Dottie opens a door and began slipping armor on over her clothes.

"Your armor is in a locker over there, Felix," she pointed at the locker on the end.

"Has Ms. Fenhill expressed her concerns to you, Captain?" Max asked, and the Captain looked at him.

"Yes. She thinks it quote, this Roseway business smells, unquote. Do you have anything to say, Vicar?" Dottie asked slipping on her boots.

"I believe we should proceed with caution. This could very well be a trap," Max spoke, and Felix noticed Max's eyes linger a bit on Dottie.

Back off Vicar. She doesn't like you, man. Ew. Who would?

Felix pulled on his final armor piece besides his helmet and glanced back at Dottie, who now had her helmet on.

"Ready to go?" She asked him, and he nodded with an ear-to-ear grin.

This made her smile. She liked he's boy-ish smiles and light filled eyes. He was a dreamy, silly boy that makes her laugh. He proved that last night as they exchanged jokes over whiskey and spicy casserole.

Soon enough, they walked outside the ship. Felix's eyes squinted as the bright light outside hit his eyes, and the fresh air invaded his nose. Glancing around Felix saw beautiful plant life around him that was foreign to him.

Pictures and serials didn't do the outside world justice!

"Felix? Honey? Are you alright?"

He hasn't noticed the tears going down his face, and he grew embarrassed trying swipe them away.

"You've never been off Groundbreaker?" The Vicar asked.

"No. He hasn't. Hey, we can go anywhere you want, Felix! And here, let me show you something," Dottie spoke soft and timid, reaching into her pack.

She pulled out a journal, and opened it while leaning to show him.

"It can be our project. I've been putting different flowers and ferns and such inside from each planet. To remember things and stuff. I've been writing what I can that I know about them. We both can do it!" She smiled at him, and he looked at her pretty handwriting and plants smashed into the pages within the journal.

"Yeah, Dot! Can I sign it? Read the other pages?" He asked excited, while wiping some tears away.

"Duh! Your family now! You can write your name in it!"

His heart grew warm. He smiled and almost started crying, but held it back (he couldn't afford for that insufferable Vicar to see him like that again).

"Now," she began, slipping the book in her bag, "let's go!"

Family.

His heart was pounding with joy at the thought. If a family was a Captain who could break his arm, a pirate sawbones, a sweet mechanic, and a grumpy "Vicar" (that didn't really count)...well, this was a interesting family for sure.

And he didn't want it any other way, because life wasnt dull anymore, and now he had a purpose. He could go anywhere he wanted, no longer being shacked to the Groundbreaker by poverty.

And most of all...

I've got a family!

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Forget Me Not (2/15) ⊰

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Reader

Summary: After you wake up from a coma and realize that your memories from the last five years have been erased, Keanu works to bring back what you have lost.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: Angst

A/N: Thank you all for the lovely feedback, I truly appreciate it! This series might turn out to be 15 chapters long unless I decide to tweak it. But anyways, I hope you enjoy this next part!

Part 1

There was a stillness in the air once you opened your eyes, a stream of daylight blinding you as it slipped past between parted curtains. Your head throbbed excruciatingly, but your body felt numb. When the bright light subsided, you glanced around the room but saw it as a blurry haze. Slowly, your vision settled, only then realizing where you were.

You were in the hospital.

You blinked once, then twice, trying to recall what had happened, but nothing was coming to mind. Deciding that your memory would return eventually, you took a moment to survey your surroundings. You couldn’t do much else, not when you have an IV needle hooked into your arm and were also attached to a monitor.

Fresh floral arrangements decorated your space, bringing some much-needed vibrancy inside the dull and gloomy room. In one corner, you caught sight of a sleeper chair with a white blanket folded neatly on top of a pillow. You wondered to yourself who would choose to stay the night, sleeping on that small uncomfortable recliner.

Other than those, there was nothing else remotely interesting about the room. As you laid in bed, you matched your breathing to the lulling sounds of the machine beeping at your side. You stared up at the cold white ceiling, counting each gray speckle that you could find on the panels above. You had reached fifty before you were startled by the door opening, a nurse then stepping inside the room.

“You’re awake,” the woman commented, quickly walking over to your bedside. She was around the same age as your mother, perhaps slightly older. Her graying hair was tied neatly into a bun with a few loose strands framing her face. Her kind eyes glanced over yours, and you felt calmness washing over you. “My name is Sam. I’ve been checking up on you for quite some time now.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat was so dry that your voice came out as a rasp. The nurse took notice and immediately filled up a cup of water from a nearby dispenser then brought it over to you.

“Thank you,” you said once you finished drinking.

“You’re welcome, dear,” she responded, taking the empty cup from your hand and setting it to the side. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” you answered her after thinking the question over. Aside from that and the pounding headache, you were also confused. You still didn’t know why you were in the hospital.

“It’s the pain medication. The drowsiness is one of its nasty side effects, but it does the job,” she spoke, giving you a gentle smile.

“It’s a good thing I can’t feel anything else right now because my head alone is killing me.”

With a nod, Sam then went on to check your vitals. Judging by her relaxed attitude, everything seemed to be just fine. She jotted down a couple of notes on her clipboard before her attention returned to you. “I’ll let your doctor know that you’re awake, but it’s really a miracle that you’re up right now.”

“Why do you say that?” You asked her curiously. “How long have I been out?”

“Three weeks, dear,” she informed you, much to your surprise. “You got into a pretty bad car crash. Don’t you remember?”

You shook your head slowly, a puzzled expression appearing on your face. “No, I don’t.”

Sam sighed, clicking her pen closed. Her smile suddenly fell, and it worried you. “I’ll fetch Dr. Henderson so that he could do a full evaluation on you.”

“Okay,” you told her as she fluffed the pillows behind your head and smoothed out your blanket. “Are my parents here?”

“Yes, they are,” she nodded her head. “Your father’s waiting right outside while your mother and your partner are downstairs at the canteen. Don’t worry, I’ll let them know that you’re awake. They could all probably use some good news right now.”

Sam’s smile returned, reassuring you one last time before she headed to the door. That’s when you realized what she had just said.

“Wait, excuse me,” you called out, and Sam stopped in her tracks. “I-I don’t have a partner. Not anymore, at least.”

She furrowed her brows as you stared at her quizzically. Maybe, she might have mistaken a family friend for one, but you weren’t sure. You had just broken up with your boyfriend a month ago, but for a good reason. He was an asshole who had made your life a living hell, and it wasn’t until recently did you find the courage to end the relationship. Because of that, you were fairly certain there was no way he would be here along with your parents.

“Sure, you do, honey. I mean, that’s who he introduced himself as,” Sam replied. “He never stops talking about you, and it’s very obvious that he loves you. Ever since you got here, he’s never left your side. You definitely got yourself a keeper.”

“But I don’t… that’s impossible,” you mumbled. Again your mind tried searching through your memories, but doing so only triggered a searing headache, making you groan out in pain.

“Darling, you need to relax,” Sam warned you. “You may be awake, but you’re still healing.”

Once the migraine passed, your eyes welled up in tears. It was frustrating to not know what was going on. It felt as though chaos was swirling inside of your head, and you couldn’t understand why it was happening.

“Shh, honey, it’s okay,” the nurse murmured softly, calming you down. “Do you want me to turn on the tv? Maybe you should watch something while I get the doctor in here. It can help ease your mind up a little.”

“Alright,” you muttered, and Sam plugged in the television, handing you the remote.

She excused herself shortly after as you surfed through the channels available, trying to find a show or a movie to distract yourself for the time being.

Coming across a live weather report, the broadcast had left you baffled. The reporter talked about the temperatures in Los Angeles this week, which was unusual since you were living on the other side of the country. Not to mention, the date shown on the graphic on the bottom of the screen was wrong.

July 11, 2020, it had read.

But wasn’t it the winter of 2015?

---

Keanu had gotten used to the stale taste of cafeteria food though he didn’t have that much of an appetite to begin with. He would usually order the day’s special, eat one or two bites of it before pushing it off to the side. He must have lost ten pounds already from skipping meals these past three weeks.

“Keanu, sweetheart,” your mother Nancy began, noticing that once again, he wasn’t eating. “Y/N needs you to be strong for her when she wakes up.”

Letting out a sigh, his eyes then flickered up to the woman sitting across from him, a slight frown on her lips. She was right, of course, but he just couldn’t help it. Every time he visited the hospital and saw your unconscious body, it was like a piece of him wilted away each day.

Truth be told, Keanu was much worse in the beginning than he was now. He had spent the first several nights sleeping in your room, or at least, he attempted to. It was difficult staying asleep when every night, he was forced to relive the night of your accident. Unfortunately, it would always end up the same way with you losing your life, and Keanu not being there at your side.

The media had caught wind of what had happened and made it much more stressful not only for Keanu but for your family as well. There would always be paparazzi waiting by the entrance of the hospital, ready to bombard him or your parents with invasive questions and take pictures of them. Security had done the best they could to keep them off the premises, and Keanu felt horrible for subjecting your parents to one of the downsides of fame.

But both your mother and father had been understanding, and they didn’t want Keanu to worry more than he needed to. If it weren’t for them, he would have never left the hospital for any reason. They had convinced him to go home each night, reassuring him the best they could that you would be there the next morning.

Keanu listened and did just that. He was able to get some sleep in as the nightmares started to die down. He would ride his motorcycle for hours on end to clear his mind, and it had been meditating. Slowly, he was getting much better dealing with the aftermath. Still, it was only the uncertainty of the situation that continued to perturb him.

“I know,” he whispered, rubbing his eyes. “It’s been hard, you know. For all us, I mean.”

Nancy nodded, setting down her fork on the tray and looking at Keanu sorrowfully. “I know my daughter, and she’s a fighter. I’m sure that she’ll get better, and it’s only a matter of time. But the last thing she would want is for you to get sick because of her. She wouldn’t like it if you stopped taking care of yourself, Keanu.”

“Yeah,” he agreed after pondering for a minute. “She wouldn’t like that.”

“Good,” Nancy smiled as she pushed her tray next to Keanu’s at the edge of the table. “The food here isn’t the best. Let’s go out and buy lunch somewhere else instead, hmm? My treat, and you can’t turn down free lunch.”

“No, ma’am. I can’t,” Keanu chuckled as he stacked the trays before getting out of his seat.

The two of them had reached the exit when your father Peter came running down the hall. His chest heaved heavily as if he had sprinted all the way from the fifth floor to the first.

“Peter, what on earth was that all about?” Nancy asked her husband as Keanu held him steady. “You know, there are elevators in this building.”

“It’s our baby girl. She’s awake,” Peter panted, his eyes filled with so much joy that Keanu could feel it radiating from him. “Y/N’s finally awake.”

---

“Are you sure, Keanu?” Peter questioned him as he stood in the middle of the doorway. “You’re practically family, I can tell the doctor that.”

“It’s okay, go,” Keanu waved him off with a smile before sitting down in one of the plastic chairs right outside of the room.

Dr. Henderson had just finished evaluating you but had asked to speak with your parents first. It seemed a bit of an unusual request, though he didn’t want to overthink it. He was okay with giving Nancy and Peter time with you first. They were your parents, after all.

As he sat there out in the hall, Keanu cracked a smile for the first time in weeks. The last three weeks had been hell for him, and he was ready to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Very soon, he would finally be able to see your open eyes and hear your sweet voice. Keanu was already coming up with what he was going to say once it’s his turn for him to see you, and he wanted the first words for you to hear from him was that he was sorry.

It took a while until Dr. Henderson stepped out of the room, leaving you with your parents. Keanu got up from his seat, a thank you ready to roll off his tongue until he noticed the solemn look on the doctor’s face.

Just before he could ask if something was wrong, Peter appeared from behind him, his hand coming to rest on Keanu’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“Son, we need to talk,” Peter spoke with a downcast gaze. “It’s about Y/N.”

Keanu eyed your father nervously as he gestured for the two of them to sit. “What is it? Is she okay?”

Peter released a deep breath before shaking his head. “She’s doing fine physically, but mentally, there’s something wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Retrograde amnesia,” Peter stated, glancing at the tile floors beneath his feet. “Dr. Henderson said that she needs to undergo tests to confirm it, but he thinks she’s likely suffering from it.”

“Amnesia?” Keanu’s voice faltered as the word fell from his lips. “What did she forget? The accident?”

“Yes,” he revealed, pausing for a brief second before continuing. “Y/N can’t recall the accident nor anything from the last five years. Not a single memory, Keanu.”

Five years? That meant… No, it couldn’t be.

“What’s the last thing she can remember?”

Peter looked at Keanu regretfully. “She remembers breaking up with her ex Eric and moving back with us. This was way back in—”

“February,” he finished, shutting his eyes as he felt his chest tightened. “That happened in February 2015.”

Keanu was at a loss for words. Here you were now, finally awake after spending weeks in a coma, only to have five years worth of your memories erased. He could only imagine how confused you must be not knowing what had happened. There had been a significant amount of changes in your life within that time frame—moving to LA, getting a new job, meeting Keanu.

The last part hurt him the most. You had forgotten him and all of the memories you had together. Right now, Keanu was nothing but a complete stranger to you, and thinking about it made his heart feel heavy. Of course, he wanted to be there to help, but at the same time, he didn’t want to overwhelm you. What if you didn’t want him around? What if you pushed him away?

Keanu glanced at Peter, the question slightly trembling out of his mouth. “Did the doctor say it was permanent?”

“He doesn’t know. There’s a chance that it could be temporary, and the memories would resurface later on. But, it could also end up being permanent.”

Leaning back against his seat, Keanu ran a hand over his face. The silence which followed gnawed at his insides as nausea churned in the pit of his empty stomach. “I’m a part of those memories she’s lost. She won’t remember the last five years we’ve spent together. Y/N won’t even recognize me if I walk in there.”

“Keanu?”

Nancy calling out his name caused him to glance up. She stood before him with red eyes, cheeks still stained with tears. “Do you want to see Y/N?”

The answer was obvious, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to voice it out loud. “I-I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Nonsense, dear. Perhaps all Y/N needs is to see you, and she’ll remember everything again,” Nancy suggested with fervent hope flashing across her face.

“Maybe,” Peter shrugged, sharing a glance between Keanu and his wife. “It’s up to you, son.”

Keanu didn’t want to be disappointed, but he needed to at least try. He was reminded of the promise he made on the night of the accident, that no matter what, he would never give up on you. Pushing aside his fears, he stood by the foot of your door and opened it before stepping over the threshold.

Instantly, his gaze met yours as you sat up from your bed. Seeing you awake made him feel so relieved, and he had to fight back the tears that were threatening to fall. All he wanted to do was cross the room and gather you into his arms, hoping his touch would bring back the memories you’ve forgotten. But Keanu decided against it, choosing to linger closely by the door instead.

“Y/N?” He spoke your name in a soft tone, waiting for any reaction to come.

A pause. From the hospital bed, you looked at Keanu with merely a blank stare, not even the slightest flicker of recognition showing in your unwavering eyes.

“I’m sorry, but... do I know you?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the room was silent enough for him to hear your words.

You should know him, but you don’t.

You don’t remember him at all.

Part 3

Tags: @penwieldingdreamer​ @fanficsrusz​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @awessomness​ @meetmeinthematinee​

[fulgensun]

; about Spira - through the Fiends Tales

I said I would have done it, and here it is. While not being a very good in-game mechanic, one which can even be soft-locked in case YRP level up too fast, the Fiend Tales in FFX-2 aren’t completely silly, or useless in my opinion. They offer much to think about, mostly because they do reflect a non-idealized vision of Spira -- contrary to what Tidus’ POV may offer us, before shifting into something else, something bigger and closer to reality. The Fiend Tales are, in fact, stories of Spirans, people who died somehow and turned into monsters -- some before, some during and some other even after the events of both FFX and FFX-2.

They narrate their tales to Yuna, presumably (she has to catch them, after all), and find a way to either ascend to the Farplane or to avenge their death, if violent one. They are common folk, priests, heretics, Al-Bheds, elders, children even -- !  What I found fascinating was that their tales did offer slices of common life of all major Spiran cities, routines, dangers for certain workers and habits, even traditions... all part of a Spira we haven’t really seen in-game; for what use is a firework festival in Besaid to a future Summoner or their Guardians ready to eradicate Sin, for example hmm ?  Yet it exists, in the FFX universe. SO. I decided, for rp sake and to also make things a tad tidier, to list and explain here some of the things about these Spiran Tales that I consider cute, funny, important or worth some more thoughts. I’ll leave the specific Tales next to the info, too.  

   --  Children in Spira attend a school, the Temple School. Obviously founded by the Temple, it makes sense it provides a basic education while indoctrinating them to Yevon -- which isn’t hard to do anyway, before and during FFX; orphaned children are also taken by the Temple / Temple schools, most likely trained to either become priests or warrior monks in adulthood. Monks, specifically, are trained to what gets called ‘Yevon Academy’, which prepares them for military life; its volunteers move to this academy and don’t see their family till they graduate, but can write them letters.  [ Doggo the Coyote, Big Mama the Protochimera, Jaws II the Xiphactinus, Happy-Birb the Peregrine ]

   --  The Tale of Happy-Birb is very sad, and refers to children and temple. I feel it gives us a good example of how hard life could be, for... a rather gifted kid.        “ I always kept to myself in a tiny room in the temple, staring outside my window. I had no friends, no family to look out for me. If I were to suddenly vanish one day, would anything be different? Since I was supposedly orphaned after an attack by Sin, I was raised in the temple of Kilika. They tell me my parents were killed by Sin, but I know it’s a lie. Why would I be the only one to survive? The monks told me I had to be strong to provide hope for the future of Spira. I didn’t want to go on living in such a sad world. So I decided to take a gamble. One night, I fled the temple. [...] But when I encountered a fiend in the woods, I froze. I don’t want to die, I screamed. I truly wanted to live. ” Don’t the monks’ words sound familiar, to you? It’s speculation, but it sounds like this child exhibited the potential to become a Summoner, his family refused to let him train as one and they were disposed of -- so that the child could come into the “custody” of Yevon and ‘provide hope’. Summoner potential isn’t hereditary, mind that, but you kinda get the mentality that might have made Braska think Yuna wasn’t safe in the religious capital of Spira. The boy, here, was just ten years old.

   --  Spira has a considerable amount of criminals, for a world that should - utopically, be united by the tragedy Sin represented for everyone. Thieves considering burglary their very ‘grand career’; killers having no remorse in deceiving old people to obtain their inheritance; Al Bhed hitmen sent to kill Yevonite children in temples or wandering priests, children kidnappers, kids thieves in Luca killing one another for money, etc.  [ Bulbasaur the Purpurea, Mittens the Couerl, Brick the Bicocette, Bolt Josh ]

   --  Engagements are a quite serious thing, considering a family could not bless the union if the suitor was of a lower class (even between relatively common people), or just too poor to be deemed worthy. A refined girl from a well-to-do family in Bevelle was forbidden, for example, to love a young sailor. Engagement rings are also a thing, and the Moonflow riverbanks are lovers’ favorite dating spot.  [ Frosty the Flan Pallido, Boko the Chocobo, Venom the Gucumatz  ]

   --  So many Tales from children, it kinda gives off a very sad vibe considering they too can turn and not reach the Farplane. Many are attacked by monsters, some lost in the desert, way too many others have drowned by the Moonflow when left unsupervised. One Tale tells even of a young thief, a child, who died in jail. Being Spiran kids seems dangerous.  [ Lesser Josh, Squelch the Amorphous Gel, Scooter the Vespa, Nexus the Dark Elemental, Widow the Black Elemental ]

   --  The Tales narrate of children’s stories and legends. To make their children behave, tell them to stay put and be good, else ‘they will turn into fiends’: the more they misbehave, the uglier their monster form will look. Another old legend says spirits of people who died a violent death make their way to the Moonflow to bloom with the moonlilies. I found this last one is very similar to the old bedtime story in the FFX novel, where Old Spirans believed the souls of the dead bloomed as flowers in the Farplane. With the advent of Sin, though, and the spread of religion, this tale was forgotten.  [ Petal the Ochu, Cyanide the Assassin Bee ]

   --  The Temple of Macalania is sinking, as Shiva’s Fayth is no more and there is nothing to freeze the lake now. Many people remained trapped in their rooms inside and died during the sinking, like some wives and children of Macalania priests, for example. The few survivors performed their funeral .  [ Mayo the White Elemental ]

   --  Apparently, people living near Gagazet have a rite of passage for adulthood, which takes place as a boy reaches 20 years of age. He must climb the peak of the mountain alone in the dead of the night and bathe in the first morning lights. Needless to say, it’s quite dangerous, but the Tale is pretty funny.  [ Wuff the White Fang ]

   -- The excessive usage of machina, by the time of FFX-2, is starting to pollute the water and air. It is said fish and birds are starting to suffer because of it.  [ Daisy the Haize ]

   --  The punishment for murder, in Spira, is execution. Hissss the Kukulkan was sentenced to death, mistaken for the killer when he was a mere witness of said murder. He spent one year in the cell of Bevelle -- most likely Via Purifico ones (all monsters in Via Purifico are people who were executed nearby -- aside from Omega who was taken to the ruins), to then being sent to the gallow.

   --  Malboros have very long lifespans. Their average one is about 300 years, and a legend says the insides of a Malboro over 500 years old are linked to the divine. There’s a legend of a monk who was swallowed by a 700-years-old Malboro, survived the digestive fluids and returned to his people with his battle garb still on.  [ Vape Nation the Malboro ]

   --  In Luca, if the Goers win Blitzball matches, pubs and bars offer everyone free drinks. In Kilika, instead, barmaids also dance, which is seen as quite the spectacle. Men usually flock to those bars to drink and also bring gifts to the most beautiful dancers, even ending up in fights for their attention.  [ Jub Jub the Archaeothyris, Venom the Gucumatz ]

   --  Religious Spirans believe in reincarnation. Yuna mentions it in the Ultimania too, referring to her father, and theorizing if, one day, she’ll ever have the chance to meet his soul again, born anew somewhere in Spira. It kinda goes against the principle of souls dwelling in the Farplane, but it’s useful to remember those are mere illusions anyway. A tale says that ‘when looking into the water of an oasis after a sandstorm, you can see yourself in a past life’.  [ Venom the Gucumatz ]

   --  Footage of Zaon becoming a Fayth exist, and are stored inside long-gone and deactivated machina still found near Zanarkand Ruins, which once served to protect the couple during the Machina War. One of these footages shows Zaon embracing Yunalesca, and her promising him her love and to return safely.  [ Punt the YAU71 ]

   --  Music seems important in Spira. Yevon Maesters hire musicians, since the most popular music seems to be Yevonite one -- religious, solemn type, played with harps, horns and strings. There seems to be an annual Yevonite concert for the Maesters too. Still, Spira’s most rebellious teens have started rejecting such old-fashioned music and guitars are spreading among youth nowadays. [ Casper the Lich ]

   --  At some point in Braska’s pilgrimage, the trio arrived in Bikanel and got separated. A Cactuar and Jecht met at the oasis; the man taught the friendly fiend how to play Blitzball and signed its ball.      “ A guy with a huge sword wandered into the oasis. He had strayed from his traveling mates, and he stayed with me for three days. He taught me how to blitz! We didn’t speak the same language but I had fun. I’m clumsy, so it takes a lot of practice to get better. He used to say ‘The only thing the untalented can do is practice!’ with a big laugh. [...] I heard a rumor that said he was dead, but it’s just a rumor, right? ”  [ Needler the Cactuar ]

   --  A Besaid Festival exists, and it includes a fireworks moment. While Luca has a Eating Contest, where the competitors have to eat 200 crispy-outside, juicy inside Luca sandwiches. The local champion was poisoned before the contest started. [ Akao the Sahagin Prince, Mr Creosote the Anything Eater ]