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nancypullen · 2 years

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Drip Drip Drip

That’s not a nod to the rainy weather today (I’m actually enjoying that). It’s how I feel about the process of putting this house together. I have to remind myself that we’ve only been here for eighteen days. It took us over twenty years to get the Tennessee house the way we liked it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and blah, blah, blah. The truth is that I just want to decorate and turn this place into a home and I can’t. Still waiting for floors, appliances are arriving one at a time, first came the frig...

those magnets are a sign that there’s been a princess in the house. The stove arrived yesterday. Looks weird sitting beside the old dishwasher and microwave.

Nothing fancy - I like a smooth top with plenty of oven space. There’s an app I can download and I can control this oven from my phone. The odds of me being struck by lightning are greater than the chance of me using my phone to turn the oven on. Anyway, I think the dishwasher is due by the end of the week. Were taking that microwave out and installing a range hood. As a shrimpy girl I’m not a fan of microwaves over the stovetop. Give me a small countertop model and I’m happy. We really only use it for popcorn. Soooo, no floors, no paint, no furniture. Still eating beans around a fire in a barrel. Okay, it’s not that bad - but as a professional nester I’m feeling very unsettled. I’ve made homes for us from the tip of Florida to a village on the Arctic Ocean, and it feels like this time it’s taking forever. Because I couldn’t sit in that camp chair one more night, I found a very ugly and very cheap dining room set on Facebook Marketplace. For $20 the seller agreed to deliver it and it showed up right after Tyler, Jamie, and the grandgirl arrived on Saturday. Perfect, they helped unload! They spent the day with us and we actually had a place to sit while we ate dinner that evening. We paid $100 for a table and 6 chairs. It’s definitely not what I wanted for this space, I may chalk paint it and foof it up a little - but for now it serves a purpose.

I can’t believe I’m posting such ugly photos here. But now we’ll have some “before” pics when this place is finally pretty. Speaking of pretty, my sweet grandgirl arrived on Saturday in full Cinderella regalia and delivered a bouquet she’d picked.

When she got out of the car, her ballgown sparkling in the sun, and stretched out her little hands holding those flowers...well, I’ll sit on the floor until I’m 80 for moments like that. We had the best day. Yesterday, because I can’t do much inside the house, I tackled the flower beds. I use the term flower beds loosely, there was nothing but monkey grass and weeds. I left some of the monkey grass as a border on one side, but everything else was ripped out. I popped in a few plants, but it all looks a bit pitiful right now. I wanted to put some sort of evergreen shrub along the front porch, preferably yew of another soft plant. BUT, I ran up to Walmart for a couple of items and thought I’d peek at their garden center while I was there. They had some really healthy Japanese Holly shrubs for $22 each. I was poking around wondering if I should get three or four when the nice garden guy said, “Those are going on clearance tomorrow, but I can mark them down for you today if you need them.” I asked what the clearance price would be, he responded “Twelve dollars”, and I said that yes indeed I did need them. So I picked out three for what I probably would have paid for one at a nursery. Hooray!

They’ll look dinky when I get them in, but I’m building this garden from scratch and it takes time. Like I said the other day, I can probably relax and enjoy it all after three summers. Maybe ten.

Another spot that give me heartburn is the back yard. Jamie spotted poison ivy in the treeline, so I don’t go anywhere near it. I blow up like a puffer fish if I see a picture of poison ivy, so I’m extra careful. She brought some stuff that they use to kill poison ivy at work, if it’s good enough for the Smithsonian, it’s good enough for me. As an organic gardener I’m choosing to look the other way while a nuclear bomb is dropped on the treeline. The bad stuff has to be eradicated to enjoy the yard. Necessary evil. The previous homeowners also fancied a campfire. We all love a crackling fire in the fall, right? But they marked off an area by filling it with rocks. They never bothered to put anything down to prevent weeds from growing through those rocks, so we’re back to that hobo campfire again. Now I have to rake up all of these little rocks and we’re hoping we can seed the yard before it gets too hot up here. It’s mostly weeds right now and it’s just plain ugly.

We wanted less yard to mow and care for, but we’d still like it to be pretty. See our neighbor’s perfect yard? I’m so jealous. They’re probably hoping we work a miracle so they don’t have to look at this mess anymore. I told Mickey that I’d like to put a fence or barrier of some sort at the treeline. Then I’ll dig a bed along the front and throw down some mulch, maybe put in a couple of flowering shrubs - roses or azaleas. Add a bird bath or a bird feeder and it’ll look like a different place. I snapped a photo from the patio and then added what I want.

See? Same place, totally different feeling. I need that tidiness. It’s a lot less creepy. It’s almost noon here, nearly time to feed the mister. I’ve wiped down the bathrooms, cleaned all of the mirrors, did a load of laundry, and there’s nothing else for me to do. I’ll feed Mickey at noon, then I’ll feed him again at six. The grass /weeds need cutting but it’s too wet. I may turn this afternoon into a mini spa day. My nails need attention, my hair and skin need some love, and it might feel good to take care of myself today. Maybe I’ll put on a face mask and watch a murder show while I paint my nails. Everyone deserves a day off now and then, right? Oh! That reminds me that I wanted to share a product that I’m very pleased with - and it’s not expensive!

Pardon the wear and tear on my box, but I keep the bottle in it because I read somewhere a million years ago that you should protect vitamin c serums from light to preserve potency. If that were true, I’m guessing the maker would have put this in a tinted bottle, so I’m probably being overly cautious. Go ahead and throw your box away, throw caution to the wind! Anyyywayyyy, this stuff has been MAGIC for my skin.

Vitamin C & E in a serum? Yes, please! I use this every morning after washing my face, one dropper does the trick. I’ve used it regularly for about two months and I’ve seen a wonderful difference in my skin. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still look like a 58 year old grandma - but there’s definitely a vibrancy and a glow that was lacking two months ago. If it worked this well on my face while I was stressed, moving, not eating as well as I should, and tired ( my back still hurts!) then imagine what it can do under normal circumstances. You know that I don’t advocate for any product that A) didn’t work for me and B) isn’t worth the money. This is not a paid promotion or anything like that, just a serum that I really, really like. I use this in the morning, and Kiehl’s Micro-Dose Anti-Aging Retinol Serum with Ceramides and Peptide (that’s a mouthful) at night. I love that it soaks right in, no greasy or tacky feeling at all. It won’t stop time from marching across my face, but at least I can glow as I age. Give it a try, get your glow on! Okay, this rambling post needs to stop. I hear rumbling upstairs that must mean someone is ready for lunch. Looks like the sun is trying to make an appearance so maybe I’ll get to poke around in the garden a bit. Or maybe I’ll just stay in and paint my nails. Whatever you’re doing today, I hope it’s making you happy. Or at least not making you unhappy. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO - Nancy

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let-it-raines · 5 years

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Betting on the Bullseye (23/30)

Summary: Emma Swan loses a drunken bet that means she has to ask her celebrity crush - if you can call him that - to be her date to her office’s annual fundraising gala for Boston’s Children Shelter. Killian Jones is that celebrity. She expects all kinds of humiliation and for her dignity to be completely lost all because of the ridiculousness of the situation.

What she doesn’t expect is for him to say yes.What she truly doesn’t expect is to actually like the man.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I can never thank you guys enough for loving this story so much and letting me know whether by click, kudos, comment, reblog, or hiding out in your comfort zone and simply enjoying! It’s been an absolute thrill to write, and some of my favorite chapters are coming up! 💙

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tag List: @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @dreadpirateemma @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @galaxyzxstark @lifeinahole27 @andiirivera @ultimiflos @hollyethecurious @thejollyroger-writer @superchocovian @cs-forlife @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @notoriouscs

“So can you tell me again why I’m going apartment shopping with you today instead of Killian being here?”

“Because,” she begins, pulling on a jacket to fight off the early-October chill that’s really coming in this year, the temperatures dipping much lower than usual. All of September was like a blazing inferno until the calendar changed and suddenly a flip was switched for all of Boston to turn into a snow globe…just without the snow. Though, she wouldn’t be surprised if it decided to come early this year with how things are going. “Killian is meeting with the producers of his movie again so that they can do some screen tests with some other actors, so he can’t be here.”

“Okay, but, like, if he’s buying the place, shouldn’t he be here?”

“I mean, obviously Rubes,” she sighs, opening up her front door and holding it open for Ruby to walk through before she can lock it, “but he’s busy and I figured you could give me second opinions. Besides, we’ve already narrowed it down to these places anyways. He knows that he likes them. He just hasn’t physically seen them yet.”

“Well, my dear,” she begins, wrapping her arm around Emma’s shoulder as they walk toward the staircase, “I can be Killian for a day. Just don’t expect me to help you christen any of these places.”

“You know, some things that you think about, they should never be said out loud.”

“But I just love my darling Emma,” Ruby mocks, adding in what has to be the worst British accent she’s ever heard as she kisses her hair. “She’s just so damn pretty and has hair like gold. And my God, I want to marry her and let her have all of my beautiful babies so that we can be on billboards together.”

“Billboards?”

“Out of all of that, your focus was on billboards?”

She shrugs as much as she can with Ruby’s arm on her shoulder as they exit her building and walk to where her car is parked a few buildings over since she couldn’t get her usual parking spot last night. “Kind of seemed like an outdated thing. Figured you’d go with viral videos or something since we’re already so good at making those.”

“If I didn’t know you were talking about the Christmas video thing, I’d swear you were talking about a sex tape. Something to keep in mind if you ever say that out loud again.”

“You have issues.”

“Ooh,” Ruby gasps, moving her arm, “you two could be in Vogue. There we go. That’s where you and all of your pretty, pretty babies can have your pictures taken.”

She snickers underneath her breath, words escaping her for how to even respond to that as they load up into her bug. She is one hundred percent not ready to seriously think about babies right now, but she can indulge in the thought when Ruby is messing with her. She and Killian have casually talked about kids before, but it’s never been anything definite. They just know what they need to know for when their lives come to that point…sometime in the future. Right now they’re simply trying to find somewhere to live.

Plus, if she thinks about giving birth too much she really freaks out. Some shit goes down.

Sometimes literally.

Nope. No. not thinking about that.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs as she sits down in her seat and closes her car door, “but I can pretty much guarantee that you won’t be seeing my face on any billboards.”

“Eh, I could always rent one out myself. Anything is possible when you don’t care about wasting money and going into loads of debt just to mess with your friends.”

-/-

“Damn,” Ruby whistles as Emma trails her fingers along the marble countertop, tracing the gray line that moves throughout the island to break up the monotony of the white. “This is fancy. You’ve even got a view of the water out this window.”

“That would be all Killian’s preference,” she admits, walking away from the kitchen and through the living room to stand next to the open windows that look out onto the water, the docks filled with boats. “His house is on the beach, you know? And he likes to be near the water. I figure he should have at least that.”

“I mean, it’s not like the rest of this place is too shabby.”

“I know, I know. It’s just – ”

“What?”

“It’s so modern, and neither of us are very modern people, house wise. I mean, I’ve never really had the option to do anything other than thrift store ‘oh that’s kind of a cute chair,’ but I do like the traditional stuff. I think the clean lines kind of throw me off. It’s like it’s not lived in.”

“Well, it’s not. It’s new. Didn’t the realtor lady say that when she was showing us around? What was her name again?”

“Dorothy.”

“Like in the Wizard of Oz?”

“Yep,” she sighs, turning back around to go explore the kitchen now that they have free range of the place with Dorothy standing outside very obviously faking talking to someone else so that Emma thinks there’s another buyer. Sometimes she wonders if real estate agents know just how transparent they are. Not that she would ever tell Elsa that. She’s not about to mess things up there, and she’s sure that Elsa is fantastic at her job. Well, she knows she is. Elsa set them up with Dorothy’s agency and helped them find some of these places when they were in California last month. It’s like she’s sucking up even though literally no one can hear her thoughts. “She’s really sweet, but she kind of makes me nervous if only because I think I’m disappointing her whenever I don’t like a place.”

“Well, in all fairness, you probably are. She doesn’t get paid until you pay the big bucks.”

“True,” she admits before opening up the cabinets, checking their depth as if she knows how much space kitchen appliances take up when she owns the bare minimum. “She was flirting with you, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Ruby agrees, her voice rising in pitch. “That’s why I felt so bad that I couldn’t remember her name.”

“Did her beauty just make you forget everything?” she teases, leaning back to smile at Ruby who’s got her bottom lip between her teeth while her fingers tap across the countertop. “Oh my God,” she gasps, closing the cabinet a little too loudly, “you like her.”

“Possibly,” she huffs, rolling her eyes before she hops up on the counter, legs swinging and heels clicking against the cabinets. She sits on counters a lot, and the white will likely get scuffed. That’s probably something to keep in mind. Apartment shopping is so damn overwhelming when you have to think about things like your friend’s heels scuffing the counters or Brody spitting up on the carpet when Mary Margaret brings him over. And literally a million other things. “I mean, I’ve spent about forty-five minutes with the woman as she shows you apartments in Boston I’d never dare step into on my own, but yeah, I don’t know. I felt a spark.”

“Did you actually just use the word spark to describe it?”

“Yes, don’t judge me. So this place is a no go?”

She nods her head, looking around one last time. “This place is a no go.”

Despite the fact that she and Killian mapped out every one of these places online before requesting a showing, she goes through seven of them hating nearly every one. One of the apartments literally had a bathtub next to a window that could be seen by anyone walking by on the sidewalk, and a home they walked into honestly made it feel like she was on some kind of old Naval boat. Seriously, there were a million different levels that were not shown online and the staircases made her feel claustrophobic. They keep striking out on things, and it’s starting to get a little disheartening.

There’s about a ninety percent chance Ruby is going to have a date after today, though, so at least one good thing has come out of this, especially because she knows that Ruby hasn’t dated much since she and Victor broke up, just a few nights out with people she’s met online that have not turned into anything.

At least those people weren’t murderers. Dorothy doesn’t seem like the murdering type, but you never know.

Such a fun thing to think about.

“So are you familiar with the area?” Dorothy asks as she lets them into another apartment, their last one on the list before they drive to Back Bay to look at a house that Killian likes that’s next to the river. The pictures online looked nice, but she wasn’t completely sold on how close the bedroom window was to a public park. At least it’s not like the bathtub thing.

The risk of murderers being Tinder dates and peeping Toms looking into bedroom windows is not one she’s willing to joke around about.

Her mind is a wonderful place to live sometimes. It’s too bad there’s no real estate there.

No. Wait. That’s weird. She’s really got to stop looking at listings. She might be going a bit mad.

“I’ve been around here to eat a few times,” she admits, walking inside and immediately noticing the floor-to-ceiling windows that she loved online, the view of the harbor in this apartment even prettier in person as miles of water stretch out before her, “but I’ve never looked at the apartments over here. This is gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it? The views are great, and you’ve got to see it at night when all of the lights are turned on. You’ve got a great patio out there with a firepit that’s great for a date or hosting company or even just a quiet night in. You’d also have room for a small garden or something if you wanted to bring a little life in. I think the people who live below here have a nice little vegetable garden.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, walking past the living space to look through the kitchen. It’s modern, but it’s got these wood and copper accents that she really likes that make it feel a little more homey. Killian will love the counter space too. And the appliances. He’s got a thing about the appliances. He’s got a preference about a lot of things, but she doesn’t blame him. She does too. Just not about her appliances. “How many bedrooms is this one again?”

“It’s two technically, but there’s a spare sitting room that can easily be used as a guest or a nursery. I’ve seen that a lot lately.”

“Ems, I think Dorothy might be John Mulaney’s realtor,” Ruby whispers in her ear, and Emma has to stifle her laugh at the reference.

“She also said a guest room.”

“Well, if it’s going to be a guest room, I need to see it for when I come to visit.”

“You live twenty minutes from here.”

“Details.”

She continues to walk around the apartment, snapping a few pictures and sending them to Killian like she’s been doing all day so he can see things a little more clearly. She wishes that he were here, but work is work and no matter where they’re living, they’re always going to miss some things. It just won’t be everything. It’ll be better. Besides, he’ll be able to look on another day because this definitely isn’t a decision she should be making on her own when this is going to be their place.

Damn, that’s still a weird thing to think about after a month of knowing that this is real and that this is happening.

After their initial conversations and telling their families about everything, the excitement of the move and over moving in together wore down a bit so they could seriously think about the practicality of it all. There were a few times where she felt like her heart was actually in her throat while they were talking, but that never lasted long. She loves him, she wants to be with him, and she’s ready to make this step that should be a giant leap but kind of feels like she’s simply walking up to the Nolans’ house, like it’s natural.

That’s terrifying.

It’s also exhilarating.

They’re good, she and Killian. They fit. She knows that they do, and she’s not going to question the good things she has going.

Okay, she’s not going to question them anymore. She’s already done that, and she doesn’t need to continue to do that. She loves him, and this is going to work. They’re going to have a place that is theirs. There’s not going to be as much traveling or as many plane rides. She’s no longer going to need to worry about always having her neck pillow or about time changes when Killian’s at home and not working. She’s not going to get a ticket for speeding to the airport because she’s running late for a flight, and when she wakes up in the morning, there’s going to be the man she loves next to her.

And he’s not going to have to leave.

That’s the best part.

He gets to stay.

She’s so glad that he gets to stay.

Her phone rings in her hand, and she smiles to herself at the face that pops up. “Speak of the Devil,” she sighs as she answers the phone, holding it up to her ear and walking down the hallway to the master bedroom for some privacy.

“Now, Swan, I know I’m devilishly handsome and that you get to benefit from that, but I don’t think that makes me the Devil.”

She hums into the phone as she twists the knob and walks in. The furniture in here is very obviously staged, but she likes it, the bed sprawling out in the middle of the room with a fireplace in front of it and more large windows looking out into the harbor that have blinds attached. She’d bet those are blackout, and if they’re installed already, that means they come with the property. Elsa told her that. There’s some technical term for it, but she can’t remember.

“It just does, babe. Are you on your lunch break?”

“Yeah, I’m about to go grab a sandwich or something from the cafeteria.”

“You sound like a kid at school.”

“I promise you I’m not. It’s been a solid fifteen years since I was in school getting a sandwich from the cafeteria. What apartment are you looking at now?”

“The Seaport District one. Um, I think it’s on Pier Avenue or something. I can’t remember even though we literally got here twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh, I like that one,” he mumbles into the phone while a horn beeps behind him. Is he walking in front of a car? It’s probably a golf cart. There are a million golf carts at the studio. “There’s a view of the water no matter which room you’re in.”

“Yeah, I think you’d like this one even more in person. There’s a lot of room too, and it’s not too modern. I feel like the only options in this town is everything having not been updated for fifty years or it’s like it’s trying to be in the space age.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too. What about the master bathroom and the closet?”

“Um,” she hums, walking away from the window and heading to the door that she assumes is the bathroom, “let me check now. You want to switch the facetime so you can see?”

“That’d be some smart thinking there, Swan.”

“Yeah whatever,” she sighs as she rolls her eyes, hitting the button to facetime him and waiting to for Killian’s face to pop up. When it does, it’s a slightly blurry version of him until she can clearly see his eyes under the baseball cap. “Well hello there, KJ.”

“Hello, darling,” he smiles, waving at her until he drops his phone, the device nearly tumbling to the ground before he catches it. Or she thinks he catches it because they’re still connected instead of the phone shattering. How the hell is he so clumsy sometimes? “Bloody hell, I was almost run over by a golf cart and nearly destroyed my phone. It’s rough having to look at your face.”

“Asshole.”

“Indeed,” he admits, moving his brows across his covered forehead and winking at her. “Now show me this bathroom, love. I need to see if all of your toothbrush accessories will fit in there.”

She groans, throwing her head back even as her lips curl into a smile while she walks into the bathroom, the light blue cabinets adding in a little color to the white marble that covers the countertops and the walls. It’s got the copper accents from the kitchen over both of the sinks, and she makes sure to show it to Killian so that he can see that there is indeed space for her toothbrush and all of its replacement heads. And toothpaste. She can also have toothpaste.

Dental hygiene and all.

Maybe she can have an entire drawer for her floss.

No, that’d be ridiculous. She’ll just share with Killian.

“See, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s smaller than my house here.”

“Well, it’s an apartment in a crowded city. It’s not going to be like your house. I’ve still got an actual house to look at later today, but it’s smaller too. I really like this place though. I haven’t been too much of a fan of everything else.”

“Yeah, I’d seen a couple of your texts. Is the shower a good size?”

“It is,” she tells him, opening up the door before closing it and walking to the other end of the room for the closet. “And this is the closet. Is it big enough for your clothes and your ego?”

“The clothes, yes. The ego, not so much.”

“Well, I think you’d have to buy the building for that.”

“That is not happening. I guess you’ll just have to stuff it in there.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Well okay Michael Scott,” Killian laughs, his face crinkling with his laugher as he continues to move, the light fading as he enters a building. God, she loves when he smiles like that, and she loves when he’s smiling like that because of her. It’s such a little thing, but she loves when he’s happy.

And being happy isn’t a little thing. It’s a really big thing actually.

She’s glad that she makes him happy. Hopefully indefinitely.

If eighteen-year-old Emma could hear twenty-eight-year old Emma’s thoughts, she would be entirely convinced that they aren’t the same person. But they are. There’s just been some development. Some really damn good development that she’s proud of.

“I saw an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Indeed you did. I like the place, Swan. I mean, we’ll have to look again when I come into town on Wednesday, okay? Just jot down your top three places, and we’ll arrange it with Dorothy to see them. I’ve got to go. I’m going to eat with some of the kids who came in to possibly play my child.”

“Those poor, poor children.”

“Goodbye, Emma,” he sighs, smiling at her. His smile should not be that bright through a screen It just shouldn’t. He’s turning her into a cheesy mess. Mac and cheese would probably be good for dinner. “I love you.”

“I love you, KJ. I’ll keep texting you updates.”

“Thanks, love. Talk to you later.”

“Ems,” Ruby yells, sliding into the closet and nearly tumbling into her, “guess who has a date tomorrow night.”

“You?” she smiles, sliding her phone into her back pocket and stepping back so that Ruby has some room to freak out.

“Yes me. Obviously me. Can we go shopping after this? I’ve looked at apartments with you all day, so this is literally the least you can do for me.”

“Well excuse me, but I’m pretty sure that the only reason you even have a date is because of me.”

“Eh, that’s debatable. We could have met another way. Like, while running or something.”

“How many people do you meet while running?”

“You would be surprised. I’ve got a fantastic ass. It brings all of the peeps to the yard.”

“You don’t have a yard.”

“It was a thinly veiled reference,” Ruby mumbles under her breath as her finger points to count a shelf that Emma thinks is for shoes. Or possibly folded pants and shirts. She’s not entirely sure. It could be for all of it. “When we go shopping, we have to buy you some shoes. Yours aren’t going to fill this shelf.”

“I’m not spending money I don’t have on shoes just so I can fill that shelf. That’s ridiculous. I’m supposed to be saving, especially because I’m still negotiating the raise at work. I think they’re going to agree to it, but I don’t know yet.”

“Ugh, so economical. Why deny shoes when you finally have a way to display them that’s not having them scattered on the floor?”

“Money. You can buy me shoes for my birthday, okay? I have this pair of boots that I have my eye on. Or you can buy me dishes or something. I probably need some of those.”

Ruby literally groans before she starts walking out of the closet, Emma close on her heels. “You are not allowed to turn boring like Marg and David just because you’re getting all homey.”

“If Mary Margaret and David heard you called them boring, they would be the first people to try to prove you wrong by going out, drinking one beer, and then asking if they could go home before nine.”

“In all fairness, sitting on your ass on the couch is a pretty great way to spend a night. This bathroom is fantastic,” Ruby suddenly states, the change in conversation almost causing whiplash. “The lighting is giving me clear skin.”

“I think that’s just because you have clear skin.”

“But I never knew that until right at this moment.”

She snorts, actually snorts, as she walks over to the window that’s at the opposite end of the bathroom. She’s not quite over the view of the ocean from up here, and she wonders how long she’ll have to live here to get used to it.

Oh.

Oh wow.

This is definitely the place. She’s thinking about seriously living here. She can see herself here. She can see them here. She can see a future here.

This is going to be her home.

This is going to be their home.

“So do you like this place, Ems?” Ruby asks as she checks her eyebrow for stray hairs under the vanity lights.

“Yeah,” she admits, looking back out over the ocean, “I love it.”

They look at the house in Back Bay after that, but honestly, Emma knows that the apartment is the one. It really is. She knows the Killian will love it too, and she tells Dorothy that when she sets up another viewing of it for Wednesday when Killian will be back. She really hopes that Ruby’s date goes well because if it doesn’t, that might be the slightest bit awkward. But she thinks it will, and it’s nice to see Ruby excited as they drive the short distance over to Copley so that they can find something for her to wear. It doesn’t take nearly as long as Emma expected, especially with how Ruby can be, and they’re out of there within an hour once Ruby finds a red dress that she most definitely won’t wear with a jacket even though it’ll be cold tomorrow night.

She really might be turning into Mary Margaret, but she doesn’t want Ruby to get frostbite. That probably won’t happen but still. She’ll try to at least get Ruby to wear a coat for a little bit of time.

It’s likely impossible.

After dropping Ruby off at her apartment, she drives home, pulling into her usual parking space and hurrying inside the building so that she can change into her pajamas and fix herself something to eat. She still kind of wants mac and cheese, but since she doesn’t have any, she makes herself a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup (the classics are classics for a reason) to eat in front of the TV. It’s a Friday night sitting on her ass on the couch, and she’s glad for it. Her life has been so hectic lately, and it’s kind of nice for a bit of calm.

Her phone buzzes next to her, and she reaches over to pick it up at the same time that some cheese falls out of the sandwich and onto her chin. She really is so graceful all of the time.

Liam: Do you want me to mail these pictures to you? Or are you going to pick them up when you’re here?

Emma: Can you mail them? I want to get frames for them and have them as soon as possible.

Liam: I’ll put them in the mail on the way to work tomorrow.

Emma: Thank you! You’re my second favorite Jones brother!

Liam: I’m both flattered and offended.

Emma: As you should be. Give Elsa and Aiden all of my love!

She’d called Liam last week and asked if he had any old family photos of he and Killian together or of the two of them with their mom. It’s a really small thing, but she wanted to give Killian a little piece of home in his new one. He’s really insistent that most everything at his house stay the same so that they always have that option for when he’s working there or for when they’re visiting his family and friends, so she imagines that he won’t be packing up many of the picture frames that are scattered throughout his house. The least she can do is ask Liam to go through the few albums of pictures she knows that he has to see if there are any pictures that she can get for Killian.

If they’re going to be living together, it’s going to be a home for the both of them. That’s how it works. She doesn’t have a lot of childhood photos, but Killian does – and they should most definitely be displayed. Liam sent her some pictures (of the pictures, which is obviously the simplest form of inception) of the ones he’s sending her, and there’s this one where Killian is apparently six and has his shirt off with a blue popsicle melted down his chest and his lips tinted the same blue. He’s got this toothy grin on his face, and his mom is sitting behind him in the grass of whatever park they’re in. She’s beautiful, and even through the blurry picture, Emma can see just how happy she is to be spending the day with her sons.

She looks a lot like Killian. They have the same eyes, and like always, her heart breaks for him to have lost someone who was so damn important to him. She wishes that she could have met his mom, but as she knows, it’s not possible. She can honor her memory though, even if it’s the smallest of things.

For the briefest of moments she thinks of her parents. She thinks of the stories she made up of them over the years. She used to want to meet them, to know if her thoughts about whether or not one of them had blonde hair like hers or if they had her eyes. She used to want to know where she got her height from or maybe if her dad had a sweet tooth like her. She wanted to know everything about them. Mostly, though, she wanted to know why they gave her up, why she wasn’t good enough for them.

She’s old enough now, been through enough, to know that it wasn’t about her. They were probably young and irresponsible and couldn’t provide for her. Or maybe they weren’t. Maybe they didn’t want kids. Maybe they weren’t young, maybe they weren’t irresponsible, and maybe life simply hadn’t worked out for them to keep her.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

She doesn’t know. She’ll never know. All she knows is that they didn’t keep her. They didn’t keep her, and it’s not her fault. She still struggles with that sometimes, with the fact that she knows that it isn’t her fault. Because she does know, but that doesn’t keep there from being nights where she doesn’t still feel abandoned and lost. That’ll likely always stay with her, but she’s learned to live with it.

She thinks she’s learned to overcome it.

She’s got this life that she’s built with family that she’s found along the way, and she’s proud of herself and the light that she lets herself live with. Sometimes she uses humor as a defense mechanism, but most of the time, she likes to laugh. She likes to have that light in her life that she missed for so long.

She likes to have a metaphorical blue popsicle melting on her because she was having too much of a good time to eat it all before it melted.

She loves that on the nights where the light fades away, the darkness encompassing her more than usual, she has someone right beside her who understands her in a way that no one else does.

And she loves that she gets to do the same for him, letting him tell stories of love and loss no matter how late into the night it takes.

It doesn’t matter. She’s got the time.

#betting on the bullseye #captain swan fic #cs ff #cs fic

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thewritewolf · 5 years

Text

Rekindle Chapter 25: Puss in Boots

Adrien and Marinette discuss the Mayor’s celebration over breakfast.

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@marichatmay

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“A party, huh? About time we got some recognition.” Plagg swallowed the cheese wedge he had been working on whole, then floated towards the refrigerator.

“For once, I’m with Plagg on this,” Adrien said as he sat at the kitchen table. They hadn’t been awake for very long, but Marinette had already brought up Mayor Andre’s upcoming banquet at the city hall. “It’s nice to be rewarded for our good deeds, even if it is just an event in our honor.”

Marinette finished the eggs and toast she had made them for breakfast, sitting across from Adrien as they dug in. She gestured at him with a fork. “You make it sound like we’ve gone unappreciated all this time. We were barely a year into this when we got the first statue built for us, remember?” He conceded the point with a nod and they ate in silence for a few moments. “So… do you want to go?”

Adrien smirked. “Why, my lady, are you asking me to be your partner at the ball?”

“Not if you’re going to be weird about it,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice. “Besides, it won’t be like a super fancy ball… right?” She’d done some sketches last night while waiting to become tired and none of them would work for a high class function.

Unfortunately, Adrien shook his head. “No, Andre has really gone all out for bigger, fancier parties in the last few years. I guess his businesses are doing pretty good or something? At least he has more money to flaunt. Anyway, he tends to prefer more high class gatherings these days. My…” He cleared his throat. “Gabriel and I were always invited.”

“But… everyone is invited to this one!” Even as she said that, her mind was thinking of new designs, the old ones effectively dead to her now.

“I’m sure he said that, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned away anyone not in a decent suit.” He took another bite and added without looking up. “It used to be that you had to have an Agreste wardrobe to enter, but something tells me that particular restriction isn’t going to be present this time around.”

Marinette absently stirred her coffee with a frown as she considered what Adrien had said. “So Gabriel and Andre were… friends then?”

To her surprise, he scoffed. “I don’t think he had friends, exactly. But they certainly had connections with each other.” He stared into his coffee, both hands wrapped around his cup as he set it on the table. “Maybe that’s why Andre is making this such a public event. Trying to distance himself from Gabriel as much as possible.”

“Maybe.” She smiled brightly, prying one of his hands off the cup and to hold it. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time. Assuming you still want to go?”

In an instant, the gloom that had started to surround him vanished. He returned her smile. “If you’re there, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“There’s my sweet kitty,” she whispered while gently running a hand along his cheek. More loudly, she asked, “Do you need me to design your outfit? I’ll be making mine, so it might be nice to be matching.”

He shook his head. “You’re amazing, but I don’t think there is enough time for you to make us both something. Besides, I think I’ve already got an idea.” He leaned back in his chair and looked towards the refrigerator. “Right, Plagg?”

Annoyed, the black kwami floated out of the appliance. “What are you on about, kid?”

“We can make modifications to our suits, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Plagg replied grudgingly.

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for me to look like a musketeer?”

“Ughhh, that sounds like a lot of work.” Not for the first time, Marinette wondered how diligent, efficient Tikki had managed to put up with Plagg for this long. Or how Adrien had, for that matter.

“There’s camembert in it for you.”

“What do you think I’m eating now?” Plagg waved a wedge of cheese about as large as he was in front of Adrien.

“About as much camembert as you’ll be getting for the next month if you don’t help me.”

With a dramatic gasp, Plagg replied, “You wouldn’t.”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d be willing to go for love.”

As Plagg floated away, grumbling, Marinette asked, “Musketeer?”

“Yeah! That way I can be my lady’s dashing knight.”

She put her dishes away and returned to kiss Adrien’s cheek. “Aw, kitty. You’ll always be my dashing knight, no matter what you’re wearing.” As he beamed under her compliment she grinned and added, “My own little puss in boots. You’ll be so cute!”

“...I think I’ll stick with dashing knight, if it’s all the same to you.”

He stood up to take his own dishes to the sink, only to have Marinette hug him around the waist and obnoxiously yell into his chest, “PUSS. IN. BOOTS.”

Chuckling, he tried to shove her off, but failed to shift her. She assumed because he didn’t want to hurt her. “You're a ridiculous woman!”

Chin on his chest and looking up into his eyes, she murmured, “I am your ridiculous woman.”

He returned the hug after setting down his plate. “And I’m grateful for you always.”

“There’s my dashing knight.” Leaning forward on her toes, she caught his lips with hers. The day had officially begun.

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

The two weeks passed uneventfully as the two of them made their preparations for the party. It had taken some negotiating and fine tuning, but he had managed to get the suit done in just the way he had been envisioning it. His wide brimmed hat had a light green feather tucked inside it, to match his full black musketeer uniform. The only part of his suit he’d been unable to alter were his ears, mask, and baton. At least Marinette hadn’t seemed to mind.

Now it was the night of the party and Adrien found himself pacing nervously in their living room. It was the first time in months that he’d be out in public and expected to be social. While it would be as Chat Noir rather than Adrien, he was still worried. Even if he knew he had no reason to be afraid. For now, he stuffed those thoughts aside as he waited for Marinette to emerge in her dress. Despite his curiosity, he’d deliberately avoided watching Marinette work on her gown specifically to give this reveal all the more impact. And as she stepped out of their shared bedroom, he was glad that he did.

She’d really outdone herself this time, the pinnacle of class with her strapless, sweetheart neckline dress. The bodice of her dress was black, but with red Swarovski Crystals scattered across it. As his eyes floated downward, he noted the many layered chiffon ball gown and saw her genius unfold. While the first layer was black, it was semi-transparent, showing off the red with black polka dots of the lower layers. It was subtle and refined, but gorgeous. His eyes snapped to hers as she giggled. He caught a glimpse of a familiar ruby necklace that had caught his attention during a patrol a few days ago, and a less familiar bejeweled ladybug clip in her hair.

“See something you like, minou?” She gave him a smirk and she stopped in front of him, her red strappy pumps clicking against the wood floor.

“Only everything,” he said as he kissed her hand. He held out his arm for her. Once she had taken it, they made their way out of the apartment. “Are you ready to arrive at this party in style?”

“If by ‘style’ you mean, ‘the arms of a superhero,’ then yes. Though you might have to give me a couple minutes after we land to fix anything.”

He chuckled as they stepped onto the streets and he scooped her into his arms and pulled out his baton. “As you wish, my lady.”

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

To Marinette’s immense relief, they managed to get in without any trouble and were having a good time in the middle of their fifth song of the night. And despite her fears of being overdressed, they weren’t too out of place. Honestly, the only thing that set them apart from the crowd was-

“Gaudy stuff here tonight, isn’t it?” Chat whispered into her ear as they slow danced on the open floor, his hands on her hips and her arms around his neck. She had her head against his chest, quietly enjoying the fact that despite the modifications, his suit still smelled like leather and Adrien. “Not at all like what you made.”

“That’s… Well...” She bit her lip, trying to be tactful. But he was right, most of the outfits were a spectacle, sure, but they weren’t good quality. Already the floor was starting to get a fine layer of red and black dust from what was flaking off the worst outfits present. She shook her head, lips curling slightly in disgust at the poor craftsmanship. “I get the feeling some shops made a killing these last couple weeks.”

Chat snorted. “No wonder. The mayor kinda threw that theme out at the last minute, didn’t he? And not everyone has a master seamstress on hand to custom make dresses at the drop of a hat.”

“I’m not a master yet, but… thanks. And you’ve got a fair point. It all seems kinda last minute, doesn’t it?”

She was about to comment on a lack of Mayor Andre, but then the lights cut out except for a spotlight on the stage. The slow dance music was swapped out for something generic yet vaguely patriotic. Stepping into the light was the mayor himself. She didn’t feel like it had been that long since she had seen him in person last - as Ladybug, she often bumped shoulders with the man, whether she wanted to or not. Something about him always felt a little sleazy, even if he covered it up with his wealth and prestige.

The man now on the stage, however, felt like someone else entirely. He seemed to have aged twenty years in the span of a couple months and despite his wide smile, she could see the panic in his eyes, and the fear that he was barely able to conceal under a layer of false confidence, proved by the sweat dripping down his face.

Mayor Andre began his speech - something about rallying together and putting the past behind them. It quickly became clear that Marinette wasn’t alone in her observations. She picked up the words, ‘scandal’ and ‘corruption’ in the whispering around her. Maybe Adrien wasn’t too far off in his guess about why the festivities were being held in the first place.

A slight murmur washed across the room and Marinette pulled away from Chat, suddenly on alert as her eyes snapped back to the stage. Her eyes widened as she saw the mayor clutch at his chest and fall to his knees. Before anyone could do anything, the doors to the outside burst open, letting in five men covered head to toe in jagged, black plate armor, brandishing two handed swords. The crowd panicked as four of them began charging towards them, leaving the fifth to approach the mayor.

She glanced over at Chat Noir, who was watching her in turn. She nodded to him and a spark passed between them, a moment of perfect understanding.

They were still heroes, and these people needed their help.

#Miraculous Ladybug #MarichatMay2019 #Adrien Agreste #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Adrienette #Marichat #ml fanfiction #my writing #Rekindle

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