#accepting libations (after yelling for them)

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

#a lil guy #accepting libations (after yelling for them) #mandatory bird updates #crows #corvidae

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Taking Back Neverland--Chapter 9 of 10

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating:  G or a soft T

Summary: AU. After actress Emma Swan’s lead role in a popular TV show is at an end, she is offered the leading role in the Regina Mills film, Taking Back Neverland, a fresh retelling of the Peter Pan story.  It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Only problem?  She’ll be starring opposite Killian Jones, who she positively can’t stand.  (Originally part of my Fluffy Fridays collection.)

Previous chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8)

Notes:  So this is an old story, originally written about 3 years ago as part of my Fluffy Fridays collection, but @kmomof4 made the amazing above pic-set for it as a birthday gift, (Thanks Krystal!  It’s perfect!), and I decided it was time for a reissue.   Enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian settled into his favorite chair in the lounge with a long, satisfied sigh. Hard to believe they were only a few short days away from the end of filming.  He felt a distinct—and very unpleasant—pang at the thought.  He had but a few days to win Swan’s heart—or at least make significant strides towards doing so—or he might miss his chance entirely.

When they parted at the end of filming, if he hadn’t at least secured her friendship once again who was to say if he’d ever have a chance to see her again?

Killian had taken Dave’s advice. He’d bared his heart to Emma, letting her know of his interest, of his intention to be whatever she needed him to be, and then he’d backed off, given her space.  Unfortunately for him, she’d taken that space and run with it.

Now, a good several days later, they still barely spoke to one another.

Killian growled, hating the helpless feeling in his chest. He was not about to push the lass beyond what she wished to give him, but the thought of losing her forever made him almost physically ache.

Suddenly feeling restless, he got to his feet, headed toward the recreation area in the far corner of the room. Grabbing a handful of darts, he stepped back, eyed the target and took aim.

There had been something bothering Emma today. It had been clear enough as they were filming.  She seemed…tense or nervous or something of the kind.  He wished he still had the freedom to ask her what troubled her.

Perhaps it was naught but the emotional scene they’d shot this morning. Regina had insisted they begin filming at the crack of dawn, insisting they needed the brilliance of the sunrise to add the perfect backdrop to the scene where Anna and Henry bid goodbye to their family and friends for what they think is forever. 

(When Leroy had pointed out that there was no way Regina could know if the sunrise this particular morning would be anything spectacular, she’d glared at him in what Killian privately termed her “Evil Queen” look. “If I say there’ll be a brilliant sunrise, there’ll be a brilliant sunrise.  End of story.”  Perhaps even Mother Nature was hesitant to cross Regina Mills when she got into nearing-the-end-of-filming stress mode.  They’d experienced one of the most beautiful, colorful sunrises Killian had ever seen.  Privately he gloried in the way the sun’s rays highlighted the gold of Swan’s hair, but that was neither here nor there.)

The entire band of heroes (“Nevengers”, as Regina’s lad had termed them, to the amusement of all on set) had succeeded in their rescue mission and returned home to Storybrooke. All seemed well…until the demon Peter Pan was revealed to be in town as well.

The little bugger had managed to cast a terrible curse; a curse that would wipe all of their memories and effectively make them his slaves. Having found the scroll Pan used to cast the curse, they had realized it could be stopped…but it would require no little amount of sacrifice.

All but Henry would be pulled back to their homeland deep within the Enchanted Forest. Not wishing to leave her son alone in the world, Anna offered to remain with him.

Focused as he was on the ever looming separation they would soon experience in real life when filming came to an end, Killian found it depressingly easy to get into character for this one.

She’d hugged her parents, and then, dropping her head, she walked slowly toward her vehicle. This wasn’t how it would end.  This couldn’t be how it ended. If Hook was to lose Anna forever, he must have at least another moment with her.

He wished he could be frank with her, wished he could tell her how truly, how passionately, how desperately he loved her. Wished he could break down and beg her not to leave him. Wished he could take her in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe.

But to leave things in such a way would be agonizing. As always in this frustrating town he’d found himself in when he’d followed her back to Storybrooke, there was no time to explore such sentiment.

Instead he merely stepped up to her and smiled fondly, his heart turning over at the sad smile she returned.

“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan.”

Her lips ticked up the slightest bit more at his silly quip, but he could see the tears she barely held at bay.

This was it, the last moment he’d ever have with her. What did one say to the woman he loved at such a time?

“Not a day will go by that I don’t think of you,” he finally settled on, holding her gaze, letting every bit of his love shine through as he intently held her gaze.

She looked at him for one heartbeat. Two.  “Good,” she finally answered.

He smiled as they continued to look into each other’s eyes, memorizing each other, drinking each other in. It was somehow both the best and the worst thing she could have said to him.  It gave him hope. Hope that she returned his feelings, hope that if they were to ever meet again she would welcome his advances.

But hope when there’s no way to realize it is naught but sweet agony.

After one last hug to her parents, Anna got into her automobile and slowly drove away as a cloud of magic billowed all around him.

There were tears in Emma’s eyes as Regina finally yelled “Cut!”

She laughed, swiping at her damp cheeks. “That had to be one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever filmed.”

Killian grinned. “Agreed.  Lucky for us, we know there’s quite the reunion scene coming up.”  He’d let the innuendo creep into his voice, his eyebrow quirking flirtatiously.  He’d expected her to roll her eyes, make a biting comment.

But instead, she’d blushed, the look on her face becoming both determined and nervous.

“Killian…” she started.

“Aye?”

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” she went on slowly.

“Aye Swan? What would that be?”

She was silent for several beats, and then suddenly she turned away, her shoulders dropping. “Never mind.  Wasn’t important.  I’ll see you back on set at the end of break.”

And without another word, she nearly ran from him.

It was unaccountable, Killian thought as he let the dart fly, watching in satisfaction as it hit the bull’s eye.   What could be bothering the woman today?  What made her nerves nearly swallow her whole?

“Killian?”

His breath hitched at the unexpected sound of her voice. He turned slowly around, pasting a welcoming smile on his face.  “Have I lost track of time, love?  Are we to return to set already?  Have I missed my call?”

“No, no,” she said, shifting slightly from one foot to the other. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Very well,” he answered, curiosity blossoming within. Nonchalantly, he turned back to the dartboard as she spoke her next words.

“I’m…I’m here to ask you out.”

His dart buried itself in the wall of the breakroom, a good foot away from the target. Turning slowly, he quirked his brow in question.

“To dinner…or something,” she clarified, her hands clasping and unclasping, the nerves evident on her face. Did the daft woman actually believe he would turn her down.

“I had rather believed I’d be the one asking you out.”

“Yeah, well I beat you to it,” she said, “but just so you know, Captain Hook, I don’t, um, pillage and plunder on the first date.”

A bit of swagger was most definitely in order now. He stepped closer to her, a teasing grin on his face.  “That’s because you haven’t been out with me yet.”

She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Very well, Swan,” he said, having a fair bit of difficulty keeping the overwhelming elation from showing in his voice. Wouldn’t do to scare the lady away.  “I happily accept on one condition.  Allow me to plan the date.”

“I know how to plan a date!” she said indignantly.

“Perhaps,” he conceded, “but after all the time I’ve dreamed of this moment, I’d like to make tonight perfect.”

She looked closely at him for a moment, and he wondered if he’d come on too strong. Eventually she nodded.  “Fine.  Pick me up at 7:00.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

“Shall I order us some drinks, love?”

Emma looked across the red and white checkered table cloth at Killian and found herself strongly considering it, but finally she shook her head. “Not tonight.”

He settled back in his chair, elbow settled on the chair’s arm rest, tongue darting out to wet the corner of his lips, looking up at her through hooded eyelids. Talk about turning up the smolder to dangerous levels.  “Afraid you’ll find me even more irresistible after a few libations?”

She found herself in a strange quandary, not sure whether she wanted to laugh at his antics…or jump him then and there and be done with it. Is it suddenly getting really hot in here?

“No,” she finally said, smoothing the tablecloth before her. “I just want to stay clear headed.  We have an early call tomorrow, some important scenes to film.”

Killian smiled, and this time it was his genuine, caring smile, rather than the teasing flirtation. He reached across the table with both hands, and Emma placed her own within his.  He held her hands gently, letting his thumbs brush across the back of her fingers.

(If the sensation that produced shot from her hands straight up to her heart, no one needed to know that but her.)

“Swan, forget work for one night. I didn’t bring you here to fret about upcoming scenes; I brought you here to show you a good time.”

And a good time she was having—a far better, far more pleasant, far more comfortable time than she’d ever thought she would on a date with Killian Jones.

When she’d gotten home from work this evening, she’d headed directly to her closet, feeling a fluttering of butterflies in a way she hadn’t before a date in years.  This wasn’t a big deal; it was just a first date.  That’s it.

But it wasn’t. Somehow, whether she was ready to admit it or not, she know this wasn’t just a first date.  Her making the choice to ask him out…well, it was admitting what had been building between them for weeks.  This wasn’t just a date.  This was the start of something.

Emma had torn through her closet, trying and discarding nearly every item of clothing she owned. Finally she’d settled on a soft pink knee-length dress.  It was pretty and feminine, the off-the-shoulders straps and v-neckline enticing while remaining tasteful.

She’d completed the look with a loose, high ponytail, and then had spent far more time than she’d ever admit experimenting with make-up until she’d found just the right look.

When she’d opened her apartment door to Killian an hour later, his reaction had made all her effort worth it. He’d been speechless for a moment, merely looking at her with appreciation.  “You look stunning, Swan,” he’d said finally.

He wasn’t looking too bad himself with his tight dark jeans, deep blue button up that accented his gorgeous eyes, and black leather jacket. She’d taken a quick, deep breath when she’d seen him.  “You look…” she’d begun, not even sure what adjective she intended to use.

“I know,” he said with a cocky grin, putting her immediately at ease.

He’d swept his left hand from behind his back and presented her a single, long-stemmed red rose with a flourish. She’d taken the offering, bringing it immediately to her nose, touched and pleased at the romantic gesture.

He’d taken her to a tiny little Italian restaurant on the other side of town. He’d seated her, pulling out her chair and making sure she was settled before he’d taken his own seat.

It was all so romantic and beautiful, and Emma felt her heart turn over at the thought of how much effort and thought he’d put into this evening. He’d done this for her.  She couldn’t think of the last time someone had put her first to such a large extent, and it warmed her to her very toes.

“A good time,” she said, coming back to the present and enjoying his warm hands surrounding hers. “Yeah, I could go for that.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Killian followed Emma up the staircase to her apartment door two hours later, amazed time had flown so quickly. It had been one of the best evenings of his life, and he desperately hoped it was just the beginning of several such dates to come.

They’d shared companionable conversation as they ate their dinner. Talking and laughing about happenings on set, sharing amusing stories from their past, just generally enjoying each other’s company.

It was during desert—a sinfully rich helping of tiramisu they shared between them—that things turned serious.

“Can I ask you something?” he asked her carefully.

“You just did,” she said with a smirk, popping another bite in her mouth.

Killian smiled and then sobered, reaching over to take her hand, lacing their fingers. “Something else, then?”

He saw the wariness enter her eyes at his serious tone. He squeezed her hand in reassurance.  After a moment she nodded.

“Why?” he asked simply.  “I’m nowhere near complaining, darling, but why did you decide to ask me out?”

She’d shrugged, glancing aside before turning to meet his gaze once more. “I just…I kind of missed you.  I mean, we were still working together and everything, but, you know, we never spent any time together beyond that, and I’d gotten used to our friendship and…okay, truthfully, we both know there was a…spark during that scene where Anna and Hook had their first kiss, and you’ve been nothing but a gentlemen, and, I don’t know.  I guess I might have misjudged you at first.  Thought we owed it to ourselves to see if there’s really anything here.”

His smile grew as she muddled through her explanation. There was no doubt, no doubt whatsoever in his mind that there was definitely something there between them.  For him, it was something along the lines of white picket fences and a family and forever, but for her…well, he knew he had to be patient.

But then something she said registered, and he frowned. “But love, why did you judge me so harshly?  What had I done to offend you before we’d even met?”

Emma blushed and glanced aside, picking at a napkin with her free hand. “You just…you know…had a reputation.  You were supposed to be this big playboy who took a different woman home with you every night.  I just kind of assumed you were the douchy type.  You know, the kind of guy that likes to just use women and toss them away.  Now I know you’re not like that, but…well, I kind of wish I hadn’t automatically jumped to conclusions.”

Killian’s heart dropped at her words, his mind going to the many meaningless encounters he’d had with women as he tried to numb his pain. He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back.  She looked up at him, eyes wounded, fearing no doubt that she’d offended him.

“It’s quite alright Emma,” he hastened to reassure. “Truthfully…the reputation you speak of…it’s exaggerated, but it was built on some degree of truth.”

And then he’d proceeded to bare his heart to her once more, telling her about Milah and the terrible emptiness and pain that had descended on his life after her death, about the way he’d attempted to assuage it through meaningless nights with women, through far too much rum than could ever be considered good for him. How none of it, not one bit had ever truly made a difference.

He’d seen the light of understanding, of compassion come into her eyes then, and she’d reached over and taken his hand once more. This time it was her thumb caressing his hand.  His Swan was not one for words, but that tiny gesture spoke more eloquently than an entire soliloquy could have done.  It warmed his heart and made him topple even farther into love with her.

Heavy conversation over, Killian had picked up the check, and they’d headed for the beach outside of the restaurant. Neither ready to say goodbye to the other, they’d walked hand in hand as the waves washed over their feet, talking about nothing and everything all at once.

She’d grown cold as they walked; he saw the goosebumps on her arms by the light of the full moon. Determined to give her nothing but pleasant memories of their first date, he’d shrugged out of his coat and draped it around her shoulders, and there it still sat as they reached the top of the flight of stairs and stood facing each other in front of her apartment door.

Emma smiled up at him. “Not bad,” she said, taking his hands with both of hers, linking their fingers.  “Looks like ‘Captain Hook’ really does know how to plan a date.”

“I’m offended you ever doubted me, Swan,” he said, mock pain covering his face.

She laughed, looking into his eyes…and then letting her gaze settle onto his lips. Would it be too forward to lean in and kiss her goodnight?  Would she welcome his advances, or would they frighten her away?

She settled the matter for him, standing on her tiptoes, swaying forward and letting her lips meet his.  It was a slow kiss, tender, gentle, but oh so thorough.  When he felt his need for her begin to build to nearly fever pitch, he reluctantly pulled back, feeling an intense satisfaction when she chased his mouth with her own, finally pulling back herself with a tender smile.

“Well that was…” she began.

“If you say ‘a onetime thing’, I believe I will die of disappointment, Swan.”

She laughed again, swatting playfully at his chest. “Idiot,” she answered.  “I think I can safely say that was something I’d be willing to repeat.”

His eyes lit up at her words.

Emma turned around, shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back to him. “I’d invite you in for…coffee,” she said, her cheeks going a delightful shade of pink, “but, you know, early call tomorrow and all of that.”

Killian reached up and cupped her cheek, caressing it with his thumb. “No matter Swan,” he said softly.  “I’m not interested in a torrid affair.  I should like for us to build something real together.  Something that will last.  No need to rush.  We’ve all our lives ahead of us to tend this fire blazing between us.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, placing one more quick kiss against his lips before opening her apartment door. “Goodnight Killian.  See you in the morning.”

“Aye,” he answered. “Goodnight love.”

~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~c~s~

Emma felt like she was floating on air as she made her way to set the next morning. Last night had been one of the best dates of her life.  It kind of surprised her how much she genuinely liked Killian.

It surprised her even more how that realization didn’t scare her at all.

The fact was, she trusted Killian.  She could afford to let herself fall; she knew he’d catch her.

“Morning, love,” he said with a broad smile the moment she stepped onto set. “Ready to film our last scene together?”

She smiled back. “Yeah,” she answered.  “Turns out I’ve been looking forward to this scene all night.”

He swaggered toward her. “Whatever for, darling?  Could it be because you eagerly anticipate sharing another kiss with a dashing pirate?”

She grinned, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Could be.”

His eyes widened at that. She laughed, rather enjoying being able to surprise him for once.

“Alright, break it up!” Leroy shouted. “Let’s get this show on the road.  Places everyone.”

Emma gave Killian one last smile, and then stepped through the door onto the set that was to function as Anna and Henry’s apartment.

Anna placed a steaming plate of food before her son, enjoying the easy simplicity of a Saturday morning spent with her kid. Life was good. Granted, for months she’d been having this feeling that something just didn’t compute. Something…she didn’t even know what…but something was missing.

“Mom, you forgot something,” Henry said, peering into his mug of hot cocoa.

Anna looked over at him and then snapped her fingers. “That’s right!  Cinnamon.”

She had just gotten to her feet, turning toward the kitchen to grab the missing spice when someone began banging on their door. She looked up, surprised.

“Someone coming over?” Henry asked.

“No,” she said. “Henry wait here.”

She approached the door cautiously, wondering who could be banging on her door at freaking 9:00 on a Saturday morning.

Nothing could have prepared her for the drop dead gorgeous man standing in her doorway. The drop dead gorgeous man who was dressed like a…pirate?

At the sight of her, the man’s entire face lit up. “Swan,” he breathed, “at last.”

He took a step forward, preparing to enter. She put up a hand, pushing him back.  “Do I know you?”

“I need your help,” he said urgently, “something’s happened, something terrible. Your family is in trouble.”

Yeah…so, drop dead gorgeous this guy might be but he was also certifiable.

“My family’s right here. Who are you?”

“An old friend,” he answered.

There was something about this man…something about the voice…that she remembered, something that was eluding her, just out of reach. A moment ago, she’d have sworn she’d never seen this guy before in her life, but now?  Now…crazy as it was, she was starting to wonder, wonder if…

“I know you can’t remember me,” he continued, glancing down at her lips, “but I can make you.”

With no more ado, the man surged forward, locking his lips with hers.

Anna’s first instinct was to shove him back, knee him in a place that would raise his voice a full octave, but something stopped her.   Something urged her on, urged her to lean into him, curling her hand around the nape of his neck.

And the moment she did there was a pulse, like a shockwave, that crashed over her. Sudden images flashed through her mind.  Henry being kidnapped.  Going to Neverland to search for him.  Her brother and sister-in-law at her side.  The battle with Peter Pan.  Saying goodbye at the town line and driving away.  And…and…

“Hook!” she breathed, stepping back to look at him.

“You remember?” he asked, smiling.

“Yeah, everything…what…what just happened.”

“Duh!” Henry said, coming up beside them and grinning. “Had to be True Love’s Kiss!”

Her heart pounded. “You…you think so kid?”

“Of course!” he said. “And you know I’m right.  I’m the truest believer after all.”

She…didn’t know how to respond to that other than to turn back to Hook, drag him to her bodily and kiss the daylights out of him until her son loudly protested their “grossness”.

“Ew!” Henry said. “Hook, don’t tell me you came all the way to New York just to kiss my mom!  That’s disgusting.”

Hook smiled. “I’d go to the ends of the earth for a chance to kiss your mum, but as it happens, that’s not the only reason I’m here.”

“Yeah?” Emma asked. “What else brought you?  Wait…did you say something about my family being in trouble?!  What happened?!!”

“Nothing the Savior can’t fix,” he said confidently. “Swan, are you and your son up for another adventure?”

“And…cut!” Regina yelled.

Emma turned toward the director and was shocked to see the broad smile on her face.

“What?” she asked, noting a similar smile on Henry’s face…and the camera man’s face…and the sound guy’s face…and on Mary Margaret and David’s faces as they watched filming from off stage.”

“You’ve been holding out on me, Miss Swan,” Regina said. “Both of you, actually.  I knew you two had chemistry, but…that…well, that had enough bang behind it to blow up an entire chemistry lab.”

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret said, “that really was amazing Emma. Not that you’re not always a good actress, but something’s changed.  What is it?”

Emma took a deep breath and looked up at Killian. He watched her cautiously, clearly waiting for her to take the lead on this conversation; unsure how much she was ready to reveal. 

And suddenly, just like that, the last vestiges of fear evaporated to be replaced with incredible joy. Reaching down, she grabbed Killian’s hand, deftly lacing their fingers.

“Well, can’t take as much credit for today as you guys are giving me,” she grinned. “It’s not exactly hard to act when the feelings behind it are one hundred percent real.”

Mary Margaret gasped. “Wait…are you saying…?  Do you mean…?”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “Killian and I had a date last night, and…well…I hope that was just the first of many.”

Killian swooped down and kissed her cheek. “For my part, if I get my way, we’ll have a myriad of such evenings spanning the rest of our lives.”

Henry cheered while Mary Margaret swooped in to hug her. “Just wait until Ruby finds out.  She’s going to totally flip out!”

Emma groaned, leaning her head on Killian’s shoulder. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to that ‘I told you so’, but if it means I get to be this happy, I think it’s a price I’m willing to pay.”

#cs ff #cs au ff #my fanfiction #taking back neverland #reruns

[wellhellotragic]

No Handlebars 2/2

Summary: Before moving to the city he’d thought his days back at school in London had been wild, but American’s put the British to shame in their attempts at debauchery. Or that fic where Killian and Co. rent a barcycle for the night and everything goes wrong…

Rated: Probably Teen but let’s just go with M to be safe

A/N: Sorry this took so long @pirateherokillian. This writing funk is never ending!

Shout out to my ‘special hug’ friend, @distant-rose for yelling and screaming and clapping and sending me guilt emojis and basically kicking my ass where it needed to be so I could finally finish it. It really helped having someone in my corner coaching me through when all I wanted to do was give up. Thank you so much!

Also, this is largely in part to @optomisticgirl letting me whine and complain about fickle muses and for being an amazing sounding board for ideas!

Part 1 can be found here.

They’d been lucky. There had been a mix up of some sort as the guy on the phone had described it when he’d called earlier to tell her that their group should arrive early if they wanted the better barcycle. He’d explained that due to the double booking they were having to pull an old bike out of storage, one without the engine that would make the night much more enjoyable. Emma had scrambled, calling all of the girls trying to get them ready thirty minutes earlier than planned. A feat to be sure considering the number of outfits strewn about on Ruby’s floor.

She’d had to practically wrestle Ruby in to the black and red strapless dress barely giving any thought into her own outfit. Instead she’d grabbed the closest thing to her. It wasn’t to say that red wasn’t her color, but she hadn’t been a fan of the way the bottom had been riding up on her all night, nor of the way she had to continually remind herself to keep her legs shut while sitting down at the barcycle. Thank god it had a motor!

The first bar had been shit. They’d arrived early as planned, too early even and had time to kill. She’d barely made it inside when a fishbowl sized green concoction had been set in front of her. Eight different rums had gone into it according to Mary Margaret. Emma had only managed about two sips before her face scrunched up in a look of total disgust. While she hadn’t wanted to get drunk, she planned on having at least one or two drinks that evening.

The second bar hadn’t been much better. It was dirty and grimy and Emma had to lace the toilet seat in the ladies room with no less than three layers of toilet paper before she felt comfortable sitting down.

When she came back out, all of her friends were taking tequila shots poured from a bottle that even she wouldn’t drink from. Elsa made a toast to Anna and Emma found herself choking down a laugh. It’s not that she begrudged her friend any happiness, but Anna had a habit of jumping into relationships and it hadn’t even been six months since her last proposal. A guy named Hans that she’d met as a party. She hadn’t even bothered learning his last name before she accepted. Needless to say the relationship had crashed and burned, and Emma couldn’t help but wonder how long she’d be wearing Kristoff’s ring.

Letting her mood sour, she made her way to the bar for a beer hoping to take the edge off of her sorrows. Emma had no room to judge Anna. She hadn’t exactly been in a successful relationship worth bragging about, in - well - ever. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to bring herself to talk to her newest crush in the coffee shop, choosing to run away while he was giving his name for his own coffee.

When the bike driver had told them it was time to move on, Emma downed the rest of her beer and headed for the door with the other girls, but as she got close to the door, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Blush crept up her neck at the sight of him, his inky black hair, his too blue eyes, the way his shirt had been unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of dark chest hair. She’d nearly stumbled over her own feet trying to move to Ruby’s other side to hide her face.

And when she got back on the bike, she’d clinched her legs together for an entirely different reason.

Ruby had noticed the way her cheeks had pinkened even in the dim street light and Emma had to thank every God there’d ever been that Ruby had kept her mouth shut. Or at least she’d kept her lips zipped until the were in the next bar.

“Spill.”

Emma had almost spit out her water, not having realized that Ruby had been so close.

“I think I just did,” she snarked out as she grabbed some napkins to clean up the mess she’d made when she jumped.

“Whatever it is that’s got you acting so squirrely.”

“I’m not-”

“Ohhhhhhh no you don’t. I know. You’re fine. Except that you’re not. Don’t think I didn’t notice how you almost ran out of that last bar, or that dreamy look you had in your eyes back there on the bike.” Ruby’s grin turned feral. “So who is he?”

Emma let out a groan in defeat.

“It’s Jones.”

“Wait, the guy from-”

“Yes,” Emma hissed, covering Ruby’s mouth with her hand. “But that’s all you’re getting.”

Without missing a beat, Emma headed to the dance floor to join the other girls, knowing the music would be too loud for Ruby to continue her interrogation. They bounced and moved to the music and Emma felt only the slight buzz from her earlier beer. She really should have eaten before.

And then she felt it. A magnetic pull of sorts and when she looked up, those gorgeous blue eyes were looking right at her. She turned quickly, not trusting herself not to blush again. But she hadn’t been as discreet as she’d hoped. With a strong shove of an elbow to her ribs and one wide eyed look from Ruby, Emma found herself headed to the bar.

She’d heard him order a shot and without thinking, she put her foot in her mouth and asked for one too. Schooling her features in an effort to disguise her embarrassment, she managed a small smile before he turned to look at her. His eyes widened and she thought he might have recognized her, but he gave no indication, and with her nerves still getting the best of her, she offered him her hand.

“Emma.”

“Killian.”

A smile formed in his lips and it was dazzling.

“Killian, huh? That’s not one you hear every day.”

“No, I, uh, guess not.”

She watched as his hand moved up to scratch a spot just behind his ear, and for the first time, she realized that maybe the attraction wasn’t as one-sided as she had first thought. Of course, he could just as equally have been uncomfortable for another reason. They hadn’t exactly gotten off on the best foot after all.

The bartender returned with their shots.

“So what’s up with the big guys night out?”

God, she felt like a fifth grader trying to flirt with a boy for the first time. Back then it had been Billy Conners. They’d been friends, or at least she thought they had. But when she tried to flirt with him before the Sadie Hawkins dance, he’d just laughed at her, before moving to sit next to Sarah Baxter. Granted, Sarah had blossomed rather early on, and she should have expected him to prefer a girl with a real bra over her training one, but it had still stung.

He was just watching her.

Say something, Emma. Anything!

“Well normally when guys go out, it’s just two or three of them. I guess it’s easier to score that way or something.” She’d leaned into him. The music was hard to hear over. “But there's got to be at least ten of you out here, so what is it? Bachelor party?”

It was only after he’d flushed bright red that she’d realized that she’d insinuated he was out looking for sex.

“No. It’s one of the guys birthday. Or it was two weeks ago but with finals we’re just now getting around to celebrating.”

“Good to know.”

Emma Swan. Queen of awkward flirting.

“Would you like another drink?”

She looked back to the wall of alcohol and shook her head instead. Regrettably, she still had to be up early the next day.

“No, I should probably get back to my friends.”

“Ah. And what are you fine ladies celebrating?”

For just a moment, she’d thought he might have been disappointed, but he’d quickly changed topics and she’d figured she’d misread him.

“Bachelorette party.”

Killian’s eyes widened and he looked down to her hands.

“My friend Anna just got engaged.”

Emma turned her head to take in her friends. Anna had been dancing with the rest of the girls, completely happy and carefree.

“She’s so young though.”

“Don’t worry. It won’t last. This is her second engagement this year.”

She felt guilty for having said it outloud, but part of her just needed to let it out. To tell someone that she thought it was a mistake without getting all of the judgemental looks she knew her friends would have given her.

Before he could respond, she heard her name being called.

“Emma!” yelled Elsa. “It’s time to blow this popsicle stand!”

Emma shook her head at her friend.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Jones.”

“ That’s the guy? Damn, he’s a looker!”

“God, Ruby. Could you have said that any louder?”

Ruby had never been one for personal boundaries, and Emma should have known better than to confided in her about the ‘hot guy’ she had a crush on, but her excitement at seeing him for the first time had been too much to hold it in.

“Wait, what guy?”

She shot her friend a look of warning before turning around to address the rest of the people walking back up to the barcycle they’d rented for the night to celebrate Anna’s engagement.

“There’s no guy, Elsa. Ruby’s just had a little too much to drink and you know how she gets.”

“Hey, I resemble that remark.” Ruby burst into giggles at her own joke, as did the rest of the group.

Emma, having been the only one in the group to work the next day had taken a pass on the most of the libations. As she took in her friends tipsy states only half way through the evening, Emma realized just how long a night she was in for.

She’d kept a weather eye out for him the rest of the evening, just to see if there was any chance of their paths crossing again, but it seemed fate wasn’t on her side. The whole point of hiring the barcycle as a large group was so that your group could decided how long to stay at each bar, and the last few had been a bit of a let down so the girls blasted through them.

She’d grown quite moody as the night edged on with still no sight of him. Elsa had gone so far as to call her prickly. Emma was honestly just ready to call it a night. They were leaving the second to last bar and Emma figured her friends were all drunk enough that they wouldn’t miss her if she snuck out at the last bar. Granted, she had Ruby had ridden together, but chances were her roommate wasn’t going back home with her anyway. Not if the way she’d been flirting with guys all night had meant anything.

So Emma sat her seat, grabbing a bottle of water out of the cooler Mary Margaret had brought, and settled in for her last trip on the barcycle. They’d just finished their count off, making sure each woman was on the bike as they started to head towards the final bar when Emma felt the weight of the bike shift under the additional body that had suddenly joined them.

Her head whipped to the side just in time to see blue eyes staring back at her.

“What- Are you a crazy person?”

“I prefer to think of it as a rasping dapscallion! Wait, no. Dashing Rapscallion!”

“A very drunk rapscallion apparently.”

Killian didn’t respond, just giving her a goofy grin instead.

“Uh, Emma. Would you care to introduce us to your friend?”

Emma looked around to find the eyes of every woman focused on the man beside her, along with the weary eyes of the driver.

“Guys,” she felt heat rising in her cheeks. “This is Killian.”

“Well welcome aboard, Killian.” The way Ruby had said it raised Emma’s hackles. It had been almost seductive, and Emma couldn’t help but notice the wolfish grin Ruby had given him as she appraised his form with her eyes.

Luckily for Emma, Mary Margaret had been clueless and in her tipsy state had managed to recapture Ruby’s attention.

“Music!”

Without any further prompting, Ruby plugged her phone back into the bike’s sound system and pulled up the same some they’d been listening to all night. Soon all of the women, with the exception of an all too sober Emma, were singing off key and off time from the song.

“What is this?”

She hadn’t expected him to be so close, but as he spoke into her ear Emma couldn’t help but shiver.

“It’s the theme song for the night. Have you never heard it?”

“No. Hey, wait-” Killian stopped briefly to look around. “How is this thing moving when no one is peddling?”

On her other side, Belle responded telling him that the bike had a motor. The pedals were just for decoration.

Killian shook his head and bit his lip, never taking his eyes off Emma. Not even for the caterwauling surrounding them. The guilt at stealing the better bike out from under him ate at her a little. She’d never been more grateful to see the Frog’s Pond before. Technically both the first and last bar of the evening.

All of the women went inside to order another round of awful blue drinks. Killian hadn’t moved from the bike though, just watching and smiling at her, occasionally adding in a giggle or two. Emma once again had flashbacks to Billy Connor. It was too much, so she excused herself to go inside, Killian following hot on her heels.

They’d been there for about fifteen minutes before realization hit Emma. Killian. He was drunk, too drunk to get home on his own, and she wondered if any of his friends missed him. If any of them were even worried about him.

But when she’d asked him about his friends, he’d waved her off, stating that she deserved his attention more. His full and prompt attention. He’d blushed as he said it, and nothing had ever been more enduring.

Ruby, on the other hand, had been a bit more brazen. Instead of asking him about his friends again, she chose to reach down into his front pocket, digging around for his phone. Killian hadn’t noticed, or at least he hadn’t seemed to mind, which irked Emma. When Ruby tried to subtly mouth the word ‘big’ to Emma, she’d actually found herself angry with her friend.

Sensing Emma’s mood, Ruby gave her an apologetic smile and tossed her Killian’s phone but not before clicking around in it for a while. Unsure of who she would even call, probably the same thing Ruby had considered, she dug through his call history and hit redial on the last dialed number.

“Killian! Where the hell are you?”

“Um, Killian is here at the Frog Pond.”

“Oh, shit. Is he okay?”

“Ya. No. I mean he’s fine but he’s really drunk and I know he was we a group of guys earlier tonight.”

“Wait, who is this?”

Emma started from the beginning, explaining to a man, Graham, how Killian had jumped on her barcycle and that he was still with her group. Graham had told her that they’d be there as soon as possible, and sure enough, ten minutes later the group of guys that Killian had been with arrived. Instead of coming to collect their friend though, most of the men ended up honing in on Emma’s friends. Soon enough, the guys were ordering another round of drinks for everyone, finding two large booths near the front window that could house all sixteen of them.

Emma had stopped Killian from drinking any more blue goo though, handing him a glass of water, which he gratefully accepted. She wasn’t quite sure how or when it had become decided, but at some point the group in the other booth had decided to go back to one of their apartments. Killian’s apartment to be exact.

She’d made sure that he’d completely finished his water before they left, and it seemed to have done wonders for his coordination if nothing else. He still had the giggles and a few hiccups escaped as they walked, but he seemed steady enough. Victor had said that they were only a fifteen minute walk away and since it was such a nice night they should all walk. Elsa and Anna had decided to call it quits already, having called Kristoff to come pick them up. Emma had considered getting a cab home so she could hide in her room, but considering his place was on the way to hers, she decided to go with everyone. She absolutely didn’t go with them just because she wanted to spend more time with Killian. Nope.

She had however second guessed her choice as Mary Margaret had once again started singing a song that Emma had come to hate through the course of the night.

“I can ride my bike with no handlebars. No handlebars. I can ride my bike with no handlebars.”

It had taken less than a full verse of chorus before Ruby, Belle, and the others had joined in and she’d found herself groaning as they muddled their way through the rapping bits. Killian had even picked up a number of the lyrics from Ruby showing him the video as they waited on his friends to arrive.

How have you never seen this? You have to come watch this, Killian.

Emma hadn’t missed the way Ruby had leaned into him, pushing her chest up into his line of sight either. Ya, she definitely wasn’t going back to Killian’s to make sure nothing happened between him and Ruby. Nope. The only thing keeping her sane at that point was knowing that Killian’s gaze had remained firmly affixed to the phone screen, like he hadn’t even noticed that Ruby was trying to seduce him.

Emma had been avoiding Ruby, not that it had been difficult. Ruby’s attentions had managed to shift to one of Killian’s friends, for the time being at least. She’d complained about her feet hurting and one of the guys, Victor maybe, had told her to hop on him piggy back style. Emma knew he had to have been getting tired, could actually see it in the way he had slowed down, but he never dropped her.

Then there had been Mary Margaret, who’d just stumbled for the third time in less than a quarter of a mile. They’d had to physically force her to remove her heels before she broke her neck. The only reason she’d even still been upright at that point was because Killian’s friend David had been hugging her to his side as he guided her down the sidewalk.

Regina and Robin had fallen behind the rest of the group. At some point, Regina had become so drunk that she started crying, incoherent sobs about how someone had told a secret of hers. Emma was positive that Regina hadn’t had a clue what she was talking about or where she was, but Robin had volunteered to walk with her and make sure she was alright.

Killian for his part had been the only one to really pay Emma any attention. He’d waxed poetic about how her hair rivaled the light of the sun. He’d offered to cover a puddle of water with his jacket. She’d refused, the puddle had been the size of an oreo cookie after all. He’d even started serenading her with something other than the stupid Handlebar song. He had been sweet and cute, and everything a young Emma had wanted from stupid Billy Conner. But older Emma was jaded and knew that it was just because he was drunk. She didn’t know anything about him, well aside from the fact that he had the voice of an angel, the face of a model, and that he liked boats.

But then the absolute most endearing thing ever happened, and if Emma had been the type to believe in soulmates, she would have claimed Killian right then and there as hers. They’d been almost there, his building in sight when the group heard a frightening sound, like a child screaming in fear. The tree above them shook and Killian pulled her back just in time for two racoons to fall in front of them.

All of the men jumped, almost running away in a show of cowardice, as one of the raccoons bolted, but Killian had grabbed the nearest stick and charged at the remained one while yelling “Rous!”

“It’s a raccoon, Killian.” Ruby had clearly missed the joke, but it hadn’t been lost on Emma.

Rodents of unusual size.

It was her favorite movie after all. Emma smiled as she watched him flourish the stick like a sword, fending of the offended racoon. So what if the racoon slinked away of it’s own free will instead of rolling into a fire pit? Killian had still been her very own Dread Pirate Roberts.

Once they made it to Killian’s apartment building, David keyed in the code and held the door open for everybody. They all crowed in the elevator going up three floors before heading to the door at the end of the hall. David unlocked the door and everyone went inside. Everyone but Ruby, who had grabbed Emma’s arm just outside the door and pulled her further into the hallway.

“Are you mad at me?”

Emma just crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her with a look.

“Seriously? Emma, I wasn’t really flirting with him.”

“Ya, you always throw you cleavage in the face of men you aren’t interested in.”

Ruby grinned her wolfish grin once more.

“Emma, I wasn’t flirting with him. Not really at least.”

Emma rolled her eyes.

“I just know you. You’ll dance around whatever it is you two have going on forever. I thought if I messed with him you might finally make a move to claim him. I mean, it’s already been what, three months?”

Emma almost choked on air as Ruby winked at her, leaving her alone in the hallway as she went to join the rest of the gang. She wasn’t alone long though. Before she knew it, Killian was at the door yelling something inside to the others about needing to find his Buttercup. She blushed at the comment before pushing him back into the apartment, closing the door behind them. The last thing she wanted was him pissing off all of the other neighbors at two in the morning.

While she’d been talking to Ruby in the hallway, Robin and David had managed to put some snacks together for everyone to help soak up soak of the booze. Killian was still a little wobbly on his feet so Emma guided him to the couch and made him a plate. He’d only made it two bites in when he quickly excused himself, saying he needed to use the restroom. Emma hadn’t thought much of it, having kept busy making sure all of her friends were eating and drinking water, but after Killian had been gone for twenty minutes, Emma had started to worry.

Wandering around the apartment, she finally managed to find his room. It was dark, but there was a small amount of light coming from under a door. Emma moved closer to knock on it, but before she could, she heard Killian let out a loud groan. She hesitate for just a moment, trying to decide if she should leave him be or not. She wasn’t stupid, she knew what guys did in private, especially when inhibitions had been lowered, but when he groaned again, she couldn’t help but push the door open.

Yes, she’d expected to find him in a slightly compromising position, but she hadn’t expected to find him huddle over the toilet hugging the sides as he threw up all of the alcohol in his system. When his eyes met hers they were so sad and defeated. Emma didn’t say anything, just walked back into the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water. Killian was grateful when she returned, although obviously embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t have to see me this way.”

Emma just smile and used her fingers to brush the hair away from his forehead.

“And you shouldn’t have to be sick alone.”

Emma stayed with him there in the bathroom for another hour as his body continued to purge itself until there was nothing left. When she felt confident that he was done for the evening, she helped him up and guided him back into his bedroom, clicking on a bedside lamp. It was only in that dim light that she’d realized that not all of his sick had made it into the toilet, as he had staines on his shirt and jeans. Not wanting him to soil his bed, she carefully helped strip him of his shirt, trying to will away the heat warming her core at the sight of his chest. Getting his pants off had been a bit more of a challenge. They’d been skin tight and she’d literally had to peel them off of him, only to find that he’d chosen to forfeit his boxers for the evening.

She quickly averted her eyes and then pulled back the covers and waited for him to get in bed before covering him back up. Emma moved to leave, wanting to let him get some rest, but before she could leave, he’d called out to her.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t have to walk home alone.”

“What exactly are you proposing?”

She’d meant for it to be teasing, but with her own fatigue brewing, it had come out a little more accusatory.

“I- I just meant I could sleep on the floor and you could have my bed.”

She laughed a little. Even when he was sick and miserable, he was still possibly the most chivalrous man she’d ever met.

“It’s okay. I don’t live that far away.”

She stayed with him until he fell asleep, giving him a whispered kiss against his cheek as she left.

He was pleasantly drunk as they arrived at their second to last bar for the evening. Seeing Emma had driven away all thoughts of Milah, finals, and even the horrible nextdoor neighbor. He was happy and just inebriated enough to have forgotten about the smaller details in life (like not having a way to contact Emma). He’d also somehow come to not care about the fact that leading up to said bar, he’d been forced to sit in a seat once again with pedals.

And then things got hazy. He remembered a flash of blonde and getting back on the barcycle, or maybe it was the other way around? Either way, everything between midnight and that morning was a blur. His head was throbbing and if his bedside alarm clock had been telling the truth, it was closing in on four in the afternoon.

When he made his way into the living room he found a worse-for-the-wear David laying face down in the couch and Will Scarlet on the floor in front of the tv nursing a bottle of water. Killian grumbled as he flopped into the only other chair in the room, and David mumbled something about it being too loud.

“What the hell happened last night?” he asked, hoping his friends had more recollection than he did.

Just then Robin emerged from his room and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing not one but two bottles of water from the fridge. He laughed taking in the scene around him.

“Oi, what are you laughing at?”

“You lot at a stain on the English name. Hungover after only a few drinks.”

The guys continued to banter for a while before Robin insisted he needed to get back to his room, still holding both water bottles, all of them knowing that meant he had a girl waiting for him. For a brief moment, Killian had been jealous. Not that Robin had been physical with a woman, but there was just something about waking up in an empty bed over and over again that made him feel lonely.

“I’m surprised you’re not running off back to your room.”

“What are you talking about?” Killian scoffed at Will.

“Um, the blonde goddess you have in there. What did you call her? Your buttercup?”

With that, memories started flooding through Killian’s mind. Images of Emma, a song he couldn’t remember the words to, and a raccoon maybe? God, he’d been such an idiot the night before. And Emma, oh god, Emma had seen him throw up.

Bloody hell.

Killian ran back to his room, ignoring his pounding head and the blaring music coming from next door to search for his phone, hoping maybe he’d dreamed it all. That he wouldn’t have a call to Graham in his recent history. No such luck. He wanted to cry, or die, maybe even both.

He rocked himself on his bed clutching his phone for a few minutes, debating whether or not to give his neighbor a piece of his mind when the song playing through the wall changed.

I can ride my bike with no handlebars. No handlebars.

Killian was sure his eyes were the size of saucers as the song continued to play on. It couldn’t be though. It wasn’t possible. There was no way she could have been living next door to him for three months unnoticed. Right?

Killian launched himself out of his apartment towards the door one over from him, wasting no time in knocking. And when the door opened, he’d deemed it nothing more than a miracle when he was greeted with hair brighter than the sun.

“Emma?”

“Sorry, was my music too loud?”

Emma winked at him and invited him in, offering him some coffee. As it turned out, she’d learned his name the day after she moved in when she accidently got some of his mail. She’d seen him in passing, but he’d always had his face glued to a textbook so he’d never noticed her back. And as for the the loud music, well Ruby had a voracious sexual appetite and it was the only way to drown out the noises her roommate made.

He spent the rest of the afternoon at her place, laying on the couch watching movies and talking and just getting to know each other.

And a month later, when their lease came up from renewal, Killian was the first to sign.

[littlelovelymemes]

✰  A CINDERELLA STORY (2004) STARTERS

‘  never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.  ’ ‘  what can i get here that has no sugar, no carbs, and is fat free?  ’ ‘  droughts are for poor people. you think j-lo has a brown lawn?  ’ ‘  people who use extra water have extra class.  ’ ‘  waiting for you is like waiting for rain in this drought -- useless and disappointing.  ’ ‘  you turned out to be exactly who you were.  ’ ‘  i never pretended to be somebody else. it’s been me all along.  ’ ‘  look, i didn’t come here to yell at you, okay?  ’ ‘  i know what it feels like to be afraid to show who you are. i was, but i’m not anymore.  ’ ‘  it’s you that i feel sorry for.  ’ ‘  well, i’m off to get more lipo.  ’ ‘  you need a wax.  ’ ‘  do you believe in love at first sight?  ’ ‘  i’m late for reality.  ’ ‘  i can be surrounded by a sea of people and still feel all alone... and then i think of you.  ’ ‘  you’re throwing away your dream!  ’ ‘  you’re the girl i’ve been waiting to meet.  ’ ‘  you’re the girl i’ve been waiting to meet. i know exactly who you are! ...what’s your name?  ’ ‘  i am very, very, very, very upset about this.  ’ ‘  it’s the botox. i can’t show emotion for another hour and a half.  ’ ‘  and they lived happily ever after. at least for now.  ’ ‘  fiy, yellow means slow down, not speed up.  ’ ‘  i need the fast and the furious, not driving miss daisy.  ’ ‘  i’ve never seen that before!  ’ ‘  love the dress... hate her.  ’ ‘  sometimes fantasies are better than reality.  ’ ‘  if i wanted to look like a clown i’d join the circus.  ’ ‘  if you were part of my circus i’d have you wiping elephant butts.  ’ ‘  there’s something i’ve always wanted to tell you and i think you’re ready to hear it.  ’ ‘  there’s something i’ve always wanted to tell you and i think you’re ready to hear it. you’re not very pretty and you’re not very bright. oh, i’m so glad we had that talk.  ’ ‘  you’re not very pretty and you’re not very bright. oh, i’m so glad we had that talk.  ’ ‘  i have traveled through time and space to find you.  ’ ‘  what? this is my snoop-dizzle look!  ’ ‘  have no fear, zorro is here! and he’s got the keys to his dads mercedes!  ’ ‘  i wanna get my breasts done. where’d you get yours?  ’ ‘  your sweet libations, my lady.  ’ ‘  some little rat got into my salmon and ate it all! i need more salmon!  ’ ‘  is this the norwegian salmon i asked for? i need my omega-3s.  ’ ‘  how do i feel? i’ll let you know when i catch my breath.  ’ ‘  you gotta love high school.  ’ ‘  what i meant is: what are you doing with your life?  ’ ‘  what’s gotten into you?  ’ ‘  you don’t even realize how blessed you are.  ’ ‘  we have faith in you, and you gotta have faith in yourself.  ’ ‘  i can’t believe that i actually had a chance.  ’ ‘  you want a cookie? mmm, they’re so moist.  ’ ‘  you take one more step and you’re fired!  ’ ‘  ______ don’t qualify as a food group. surprised you didn’t know that.  ’ ‘  excuse me? like, what are you, the dirt police?  ’ ‘  eww! stalkerazzi at three o’clock.  ’ ‘  can i get a breakfast burrito to go?  ’ ‘  remind me again why we tolerate them?  ’ ‘  you don’t look like a candy bar.  ’ ‘  you’re through messing with me!  ’ ‘  who are you today?  ’ ‘  life can be so unfair.  ’ ‘  do you ever feel like if you show someone who you really are, they won’t accept you?  ’ ‘  maybe my whole relationship is just better off in cyberspace.  ’ ‘  anything is possible if you just believe.  ’ ‘  fairy tales aren’t just about finding handsome princes. they’re about fulfilling your dreams and about standing up for what you believe in.  ’

#ask meme #inbox meme #sentence starters #indie rp #askbox meme #rp ask #rp ask meme #rp ask box meme #inbox memes #rp inbox meme #inbox starters #rp sentence meme #sentence starter meme #rp sentence starters #starters #rp meme

[hoffkk]

On the fourth day of Ficmas, hoffkk gave to me...

Four Dancing Elves (A Rucas Fanfic)

*******

Riley was sitting by herself in her parents cafe, lounging on the vintage loveseat and drinking hot chocolate.  Checking her phone, she saw it was 4:00 on the dot, the exact time Lucas said he would meet her.   He said he had a surprise for her, and Riley couldn't even fathom what it could be.  Trying to contain her excitement, she glanced around the cafe in search of her boyfriend.  There were some college kids grabbing breakfast and coffee, an elder gentleman drinking tea ad doing the newspaper crossword puzzle,  and some women with shopping bags checking out the glass case of baked goods, but there was no Lucas... yet.  She hummed a Christmas tune to pass the time then, after a couple of minutes, checked her phone again.  IT was now 4:02, and Lucas was nowhere to be seen.  Displeased with his tardiness, she frowned then took a sip of her warm beverage.   Normally, Lucas running late would be no big thing, but since he was leaving early the next morning for a big family Christmas back in Texas, she wanted to spend as much time with him as possible until then, especially since he wouldn't be back until after the new year.  Yes, this holiday break was going to be long and torturous, but Riley tried not to let herself dwell on that or Lucas's lateness.  Instead, she tried to distract herself again by texting her other friends to see what they were up to.  She texted Maya, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle all in one big group message.  A few minutes went by, and there was not a single reply. Riley tried texting them all again, this time individually, only to get the same result.  It was now 4:10, and she was officially concerned.  Where was everybody?

She was about to text yet again when the bells on the cafe door jingled, signaling the arrival of a customer.  Immediately turning her head, she found Lucas in the entryway, grinning brightly. Riley beamed at him and said, "Hey."

"Hey." Lucas repeated, standing there unmoving.  "I'm sorry I'm late, I was getting your Christmas present ready, and it took longer than I thought to get everything set up."

"What do you mean?"  Riley asked curiously.

"I'll think it'll be easier if I just show you."  He decided as his smile widened.  "Hit it, guys."  He tossed over his shoulder and out the door before making his way over to the seat beside his girlfriend.

Furrowing her brow, she stared at the door and waited to see what happened next.  She almost lost it when, Maya, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle all filed inside dressed like elves.  They had the complete costumes from the hats and pointy ears down to the tights and whimsical slippers.  Before Riley could comment, Zay set down the portable speaker he was holding, placed his cell phone next to it and hit play.

The room instantly filled with an up tempo drumbeat accompanied by jingle bells.  After a few beats, Maya called out, "1, 2... 1, 2, 3..."

All of sudden, her four elfish friends began dancing and singing in perfect unison,

"Let's make the whole year Christmas No reason to forget this Feeling we're feelin' now Gotta keep it going all year round Let's keep the sleigh bells ringing We'll keep the whole world singing, Feel so good why stop now? Let's make Christmas the whole year round."

Riley squealed as she clapped happily in delight.  She loved this song.  It was one of her favorite Christmas jams.  She could never remember the name of the artist who sang it though.  All she ever remembered was that she looked freakishly like Maya.  It really was spooky how much they resembled each other.  Not letting that thought distract her, Riley kept watching intently as Maya stepped forward and sang solo,

"I don't care if snow stops falling down Santa's come and gone, yeah he's left town I don't need a Christmas tree, Mistletoe, or red and green All I need is you next to me To make every night Christmas Eve."

As Maya finished the first verse and they all sang the chorus together once more, Riley threaded her fingers in between Lucas's and squeezed tightly.  This was her way of silently telling him how much she was enjoying this little performance.  As the chorus came to a close, Zay slid forward and showed off his mad dance skills as he executed his own solo.

"All those pretty lights have been put away And old Rudolph is gone on holiday We'll keep that fire burning Though the calendar is turning Why stop at 1, hey, what for? When we can have 364 more!"

Finishing his last note with a Michael Jackson style jump up to tiptoes, the other three joined back in. They did yet another round of the chorus, then Smackle and Farkle came forward together and began doing an adorable partner dance as they sang the next part as their own personal duet.

"I don't need a Christmas tree Mistletoe or red and green All I need is you next to me To make every night Christmas Eve."

Farkle rolled Smackle in toward him and back out with his opposite arm, so that they were apart and striking a fun pose on the last note.  It was the cutest thing Riley had ever seen, the whole routine was, especially when they all joined together for the final chorus of the song and began a kick line. She couldn't help but giggle at that as their voices rang out,

"Let's make the whole year Christmas No reason to forget this Feeling were feelin' now, Gotta keep it going all year round Let's keep the sleigh bells ringing We'll keep the whole world singing Feel so good why stop now? Let's make Christmas the whole year Make Christmas the whole year Let's make Christmas the whole year round Let's make Christmas the whole year round!"

The kick line faded into partner dancing for the rest of the song.  At the end, the boys got down on one knee as the girls held their hand and twirled around them in a small circle.  On the very last note of the very last line, the girls sat down on their laps, crossed their legs, put one arm around their neck and extended the other up in the air with fingers spread out in a jazz hand motion.  The boys extended their free arm the same way but downward.  Once the music stopped, Riley stood up and began to clap.  Much to her friends' appreciation, so did the rest of the cafe patrons.

"You guys, that was awesome."  Riley said truthfully.  It really was amazing, and the fact that Lucas planned it all and put it together just for her, well, that just made it completely perfect.  He was definitely the best boyfriend ever in the history of boyfriends.

"Thanks, Riles." Maya smiled.

"Yeah, it was nothing." Zay agreed.

"When Lucas told us about his gift idea and asked for our help, we couldn't say no." Farkle told her.

"I also couldn't say no to this sexy elf outfit." Smackle chimed in, making them all chuckle. When she caught Lucas smiling at her, she immediately spat, "Stop hitting on me!"

Everyone laughed a little more, then Zay said, "All right, I don't know about y'all, but this hot chocolate needs some hot chocolate."

"Libations sound good to us."  Farkle said as Smackle nodded in agreement.

"Okay then," Maya chimed in.  "Why don't we give these two crazy kids a minute alone and see what my mom's got cooked up behind the counter."

Riley looked to Lucas and smiled.  He smiled back sheepishly and said, "So, you really liked it?  It wasn't too much?"

"It was wonderful."  She affirmed. "I can't believe you went to all that trouble."

"Well, Riley, being with you is like having Christmas all year round, and I really wanted you to that.  I wanted you to know just how special you are to me."  Lucas explained as he retrieved a neatly wrapped gift box from his letterman jacket pocket.  He got quiet as he handed it to her and watched her open it.

Riley tore the reindeer wrapping paper off to reveal a red velvet box.  She tossed the paper on the coffee table and studied the box a moment before opening it.  Slowly, Riley lifted the lid to reveal the prettiest sterling silver necklace.  It had a charm at the end that sparkled.  It was a heart intertwined with an infinity symbol.  It was beautiful.

Riley was speechless as she stared at the thoughtful gift, so Lucas took advantage of silence and told her, "You truly are a gift, Riley.  Every.  Single. Day."

Meeting his eyes, she beamed up at him for a moment before throwing her arms around him and pulling him close.  Pulling back ever so slightly, she whispered in his ear and said for the first time ever, "I love you, Lucas."

Pulling back quickly, Lucas looked at her with eyes that sparkled with a mix of adoration and excitement, "What did you just say?"

Smirking, she replied, "I know were only seniors in high school, but I know what I feel.  You are the best person I know--"

"Hey!" Maya yelled from the coffee counter, obviously eavesdropping.

"Besides Maya." Riley amended.  When Maya nodded her approval, she continued, "Anyway, as I was saying, you are one of the best people I know.  You make me feel happy and special and are always there for me.  The truth is, if I tried to dream up the perfect guy, he wouldn't even come close to you.  Tonight, you really proved that, just like you do every day... and I love you for it. I love you, Lucas Friar."

As he stood their grinning from ear to ear with Riley in his arms, there was only one thing to say.

"I love you too, Riley Matthews."  He replied, the words sounding so natural as they rolled off his tongue.  Unable to stop himself, (not that he wanted to) he leaned forward and kiss her deeply.  After a moment, he pulled back, leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." She repeated cheerfully then kissed him again.

Lucas gratefully accepted and, as he lovingly embraced his girlfriend, he couldn't help but think that even though Riley is the one walking home with a gift box, he is the one who got the best Christmas present ever.

#rucas #girl meets world #riley x lucas #ficmas #four dancing elves #riley matthews #lucas friar #gmw

[megabadbunny]

No Place Like Hohm (3/8)

Rose laughed nastily. “Yeah, sure. Everything’s all right. Everything’s always all right.”

**

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe. Ten/Rose, all ages, full of angst, fluff, a pinch of romantic bickering, a dash of mutual pining, and a dollop of swashbuckling adventure!)

***

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Chapter 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8

“Is everything all right?” Geoffrynn asked when Rose stormed back into the Temple, his brow furrowing in concern.

Rose laughed nastily. “Yeah, sure. Everything’s all right. Everything’s always all right.”

“You sure?” Geoffrynn’s friend—whatsisname, Rose was having trouble recalling it right now—asked with a chuckle. “Seems like your boyfriend—”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Rose snapped, bristling.

The nameless bloke grinned. “Good to know,” he said, extending cups full of liquor to both her and Geoffrynn.

“Bottoms up,” Geoffrynn said with an uneasy smile, but before any of them had time to react, Rose grabbed both cups, downing their contents in two loud gulps one right after the other. She ignored how her companions’ eyes went wide in response, closed her own eyes as her head went a bit swimmy.

“Right,” she slurred, swaying on her feet only a little bit. “We gonna dance again, or do you lot want to waste your time talking?”

**

Later, Mickey would curse himself for being so stupid.

“So what’re these all about?” he asked one of the ladies curled up next to him, a gorgeous gal with luscious black locks and almost unnaturally blue eyes.

She smiled beatifically at him. “Whatever do you mean?”

With a drunken laugh—well, he wasn’t entirely drunk, just a little sloshed, hadn’t thrown back nearly as much as Rose up there, had he?—Mickey suddenly remembered that, when asking a question, it usually helps to let the other party know exactly what you’re asking about, doesn’t it?

He plucked one of his many orange flowers from its place off the table. “These,” he said. “I’ve been getting them all day.”

“Indeed you have,” one of his other newfound friends replied, leaning in close. “You’re quite the prize.”

“Awww, thanks babe,” Mickey said, beaming as he looped his arm around her.

“So do you have a preferred Champion?”

Mickey blinked, waiting for the words to sink in, for any meaning or significance to sink in with them. But his brain remained pleasantly empty, filled with nothing but a vague and blurry sense of contentment. “Have I got a what-now?”

Everyone in his entourage let out a giggle, each woman hiding her laugh behind a beautiful dainty hand. “A preferred Champion,” one of the women repeated. “Someone you would like to win.”

“Win what?” Mickey asked, swigging another drink from his tankard.

“Well, you, of course.”

Mickey promptly choked on his beer. “Huh?” he spluttered.

“Well, that’s the whole reason you’re here, isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Mickey set his tankard down on the table with a loud clunk. “Okay, I’m a little confused—”

“Too much libation will do that to you,” one of the ladies said with a wink.

“No, I’m not drunk—well, only a little—I’m just confused about this whole winning thing,” Mickey explained. “There’s been some sort of mistake or something. You can’t win me.”

Giggling again, some of the women exchanged glances with each other. “Poor thing’s already forgotten himself,” one of them sighed. “Why can’t the pretty ones hold their liquor?”

“See here, sweetheart,” said the black-haired woman very patiently. “The only reason offworlders come to Hohm is to partake in the Championship Tour. And you can either play to win, or you can play to be won.”

She plucked an orange flower off the table and twirled it round between her delicate fingers. “And since you accepted our token-flowers, and journeyed to our temple, and drunk of our cups, that means…”

The woman smiled, and chills ran down Mickey’s spine at the sight of her very even, very white teeth flashing in the torchlight. “…we get to hunt you.”

“Nope!” Mickey squeaked, shooting up from his seat, his body in motion before his brain had a chance to catch up. He tried to leave the booth but, upon finding many female bodies unbudgingly in his way, opted to climb over the table instead, ignoring the cries of outrage as he trampled flowers and knocked over goblets and mugs. “Nope, nope! I didn’t sign up for this! Nobody warned me about grabby ladies and surprise cannibalism!”

“Well of course we’re not going to eat you, darling!” shouted one of the women. “We want to wed and breed!”

“That isn’t any better!” Mickey shouted back.

Dozens of hands reached out to grab him and Mickey yelled out in alarm, turning to run. But he couldn’t have taken more than three stumbling steps before he ran facefirst into a brick wall.

No, wait, that wasn’t a wall at all—that was a bloke. An extremely solid, muscular, painted-gold-for-some-reason, brick-wall-like bloke.

“Sorry,” Mickey tried to say, but a pair of beefy hands seizing him by the jacket cut him off. Mickey tried to fight back, grabbing the bloke by the wrists, kicking at his shins, but the fellow didn’t move, didn’t even blink, and maybe Mickey was drunker than he thought because everything he did was so bloody slow, and for goodness’ sake, why didn’t he know what to do, why hadn’t he got into more fights before this?

A memory swam into his head just then, of primary school and a football indoors and a broken china teapot, the sound of Jackie’s shrill and irritated shouts and the feel of her hand grasping his jacket-collar, and god, he was going to have to give her a hundred hugs the next time he saw her, because even if she’d given him a good scolding afterward until he thought his ears would bleed, Jackie had, unknowingly, prepared him for this very moment.

Releasing his captor’s wrists, Mickey raised his arms. He went limp and slid out of his jacket onto the floor.

Amidst angry shrieks from the temple around him, Mickey rolled over just in time to dodge a swipe from the gold-painted bloke. He sprang to his feet and darted toward the dance floor, frantically scanning the crowd for Rose.

“Rose!” he shouted. “Rose, we’ve got to run! They’re coming after me—where are you?”

Then he found her, and it was like every drop of blood drained from his head, leaving him ice-cold.

A gold-painted bloke carried her out the door. But she didn’t fight back. Didn’t kick, didn’t scream, didn’t even move. She dangled, blindfolded, over his shoulder, just hanging limp and lifeless like a rag doll.

Mickey stepped forward, but there was nothing he could do. At least twenty people stood between him and Rose’s captor, human and horse-persons and gold muscle-men alike, and his wannabe-future-wives were slowly closing in on him.

As much as he hated to admit it…he couldn’t do this alone. He needed the Doctor.

Mickey turned and ran.

***

The Doctor had only just shed his coat and thrown it over the ramparts, sliding beneath the console to rework some troublesome time rotor configurates, when the sound of frantic hammering drifted toward him from the TARDIS doors.

A smug little grin crept across his face. Clearly, Rose had forgotten her key—yet again, good grief, he didn’t know how many times he’d had to remind her to bring it along—and now she wanted back in. Probably so that she could apologize. Yes, apologize, that sounded right—apologize for her strange behavior, and threatening to leave him for no good reason, none at all, and probably she expected him to come running.

Well, tough.

“What, back already?” he called, pushing up and sauntering down the stairs. “Are you sure you want to come back so soon? What about poor Geoffrynn, out there all on his own?”

No voice came back to greet him, just the sound of more knocking, knuckles rapping hollowly over the doors.

“Hang on, give a fellow a minute,” the Doctor said. Since when was Rose so impatient?

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, stowing his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I’ll just leave the doors locked, let you stay with Mr. Geoffrynn tonight,” the Doctor called out. Then, mumbling darkly under his breath, “Bet Geoffrynn hasn’t got a time machine, though. Bet Geoffrynn can’t transport you to the very edges of time and space. Bet Geoffrynn’s head is full of nothing but beer and spiderwebs.”

“Doctor!” a desperate voice shouted, and the Doctor frowned. That voice did not belong to Rose. He strode over to the doors and flung them open to find Mickey standing there, propping himself up against the TARDIS for support as he panted, out of breath.

“Oh,” the Doctor said, unimpressed. “It’s you.”

“And a happy sod-off to you too,” Mickey said between gasps. “Listen—”

“But where’s your entourage?” the Doctor asked, poking his head out of the TARDIS, scanning the twilit streets. “Thought you’d be off Captain Kirk-ing about the place by now.”

“Doctor—”

“Oh no, did they leave?” the Doctor asked gleefully. “Did they leave poor Mickey all by his lonesome? Poor ickle Mickey? Is poor ickle Mickey in a bit of a pickle? Poor ickle Mickey in a bit of a sticky pickle—”

“Doctor!”

“What?” the Doctor asked with a grin.

“It’s Rose,” Mickey wheezed. “They’ve taken her.”

The Doctor’s grin faded away, and he watched as Mickey shrank back in alarm. When the Doctor next spoke, his voice came out oddly calm, for all that it felt sharp and deadly.

“What?” the Doctor asked again.

***

Rose was standing and talking to Geoffrynn, until all of a sudden, she wasn’t.

For a moment, there was nothing. No Temple, no dancers, no music; no light, no dark, no dreams. There wasn’t even Rose Tyler. She just was, light and drifting in a colorless void.

Then she was moving, flying or floating or—no, riding. She was riding. Lying down and riding. In a boat? Surely not, though it felt like coarse wood beneath her hands, and the vessel pitched like a ship on choppy waves. It bounced and rattled underneath her. She was fairly certain ships didn’t rattle, though. But to be fair, she wouldn’t trust anything that she was certain of at this point, not even her own name.

(But the clackety-clack beneath her reminded her of hooves on roads or wheels on stones and remember that time with the queen and the werewolf, remember the diamond and the moon? And there was a man, and he’d saved her…or had she saved herself?)

Rose turned her head. Something obscured her vision, something soft and inconvenient tied snug over her eyes, but there were other people on this cart with her. (A cart. A wheelbarrow? A carriage? She wondered how long she had until midnight, if things turned into pumpkins even on Hohm.) Opening her mouth, Rose tried to ask if everyone else was all right—she couldn’t see her fellow passengers, but she could sense them, feel the weight of their bodies and warmth of their breath—but no voice emerged, and her eyes were heavy, oh so heavy, and sleep sounded like the most delicious thing in the world.

(But it didn’t make sense; she never touched a spindle, and there were no briars anywhere to be seen.)

Her eyes rolled back and darkness claimed her.

***

The Doctor ran toward the temple, thoughts and hearts racing, his plimsolls slapping loudly over the cobblestone street.

It’s Rose…They’ve taken her. Mickey’s words played in his head, over and over again, skipping like a broken record in time to the beat of his feet on the road.

Grinding to a halt just outside the temple, the Doctor found Geoffrynn lounging outside, talking and laughing with some of his fellow dancers.

“Excuse me,” the Doctor called over the crowd bustling around him. “I don’t suppose you would happen to know—”

“Nope, sorry,” said Geoffrynn, just a little too quickly.

The Doctor’s brow furrowed in suspicion. “How do you know what I was going to ask?”

Geoffrynn didn’t reply, but his tail flicked nervously; his gaze shifted from the Doctor’s face to something behind him, just over his shoulder— and as far as the Doctor was concerned, that was answer enough. The Doctor whirled around to see what he was looking at.

Two giant, gold-gilded Herdbeasts, helmed by a pair of muscular gold-painted men, pulled a golden carriage down the street several blocks up ahead. Through the windows, the Doctor could just make out the dark and muddy shapes of people, one of whom had hair in a suspicious shade of blonde.

The Doctor froze. He’d spent enough time with that unnaturally yellow hair and its owner that he’d recognize it anywhere.

“Rose!” he shouted. “Wait, stop!” But his words were useless; the carriage was soon swallowed up by the city.

“I’m sorry,” the Doctor dimly heard Geoffrynn whisper behind him. “I couldn’t—”

He took off running.

The Doctor sprinted at top speed, running as quickly as his considerably fast legs would take him. Ignoring all protests that flew his way, he pushed and elbowed his way through the thickening crowd. Up ahead, people parted like the Red Sea, bowing their heads in deference to the carriage and its inhabitants, but they closed ranks immediately after. The distance between the Doctor and the carriage grew wider and wider, a chasm he couldn’t seem to breach.

“Please!” the Doctor shouted at the people around him. “Please, they took my friend, I’ve got to—”

“You’ve got to let her go,” a leathery old voice whispered at him from somewhere near his shoulder. He looked down to see an old horse-woman tugging on his jacket, her mouth pinched in worry. “It’ll be all right,” she said, “but you should let her go, for now.”

“What do you mean?” the Doctor demanded.

“You’re an offworlder, en’t you? This your first time on Hohm?”

Surely he didn’t have time for this. The Doctor stood on tiptoe to peer over the bustling throng, straining to see the carriage. It had stalled a few blocks ahead, at a great impenetrable gate. It looked like the drivers were conversing—no, arguing—with the gate’s operator.

“Yes,” he shot back. “What does it matter?”

“That means you don’t know how things are run round here,” the old woman told him, drawing her hood close around her face. She glanced up and down the street, at the people clustering near them, as if any one of them might be listening. “That means you’ll lose your head if you en’t careful.”

“What are they going to do to Rose?” demanded the Doctor.

“Don’t you worry, love. She’s safe for now. You can find her later. Find her at the Tournament. Everyone’s free to compete.”

The Doctor glanced back at the carriage. The gate up ahead was finally opening, slowly, and a low groan filled the air, the foreboding sound of metal scraping over metal.

“If you take her now, the Guard’ll kill you,” the old woman told him.

He ignored her.

Pushing through the throng, the Doctor slipped between booths and walls, leaping over an upturned cart and ducking beneath two workers’ heavy workload. The gate was closing again, sealing itself shut as the carriage passed through it, but that hardly mattered. The Doctor lunged at the gate and latched to the top, pulling himself up and over.

“Oi!” the gate guard shouted in alarm, but the Doctor was already on the other side, sprinting after the carriage as it disappeared around the edge of the building.

Yet once the Doctor skidded to a stop around the corner, the carriage was nowhere to be seen.

Burying his hands in his hair, the Doctor frantically looked about, glancing up and down the empty streets, but not a single person or thing greeted him, just the smooth glass road and stark white walls. The Doctor barely noticed when the gate opened up again behind him, didn’t so much as blink when several pairs of iron-grip hands clamped down on his arms.

Rose was gone.

***

Previous | Next

#ficandchips #tenrose #tenxrose #gitf fixit #post-gitf #angst #fluff #adventure #fantasy #missing scene #romantic bickering #romantic antagonism #lolol #ust #urt #canon compliant #mbb fic #y'all i've been working on this damn thing for ages #it's time to admit that perfection is unattainable and it's better to post something than to wait a thousand years and never post anything #i have two more prompts to go (and one of you has been waiting forever i'm so sorry dahling mea culpa) #and then right back to posting this and minuet #and errything else i'm working on #i love having projects to work on but when i start thinking of the sheer number of things i'm in the middle of and things i want to get done #like...my brain starts to shut down #and then i can't work on anything #well i can but muscling my way past the shutdown is no mean feat #anyhoo now i'm just whining #:P #thanks to everyone who's still sticking with this!!! #<3

[elsewhereuniversity]

Darling

Crossposted to AO3

In the East Hall, the Gentry are called Takers-And-Givers. Marie had her best 2B pencil stolen only to find three packs of pencils - different hardnesses, sizes, colours - in her room that evening. Charley’s bottles of milk were stolen in the first week of term but now their whole flat gets weekly deliveries of dairy far better than any bought at the local shops. Sanjeet’s flowers were decimated a week before Valentines, but now they’re the best and brightest blooming flowers on campus.

First they Take and then, later, they Give, something of equal or more value. No one seems to know how or why, it just is, until the new kid arrives in halls - a late transfer, some incident at their last uni dogging her steps, giving her haunted eyes and probably-nightmares and arms clutched close around her chest whenever someone looms too close. 

When people ask, she says to call her Ravenna. That that’s not her name, but her actual name isn’t one she trusts anymore, that it makes her feel unsafe in her own skin. So everyone in the Hall calls her Ravenna, or, sometimes, Blackbird if they know her well enough, and give her space.

She hates beyond hate to be touched.

–

Marie sees her one day, within touching distance of one of the Takers-and-Givers often seen around East Hall. They go by Darling - an odd moniker for a six foot creature with a greenish cast to their skin and a bird’s nest of hair, but no one would ever dare say anything to them. They stand just within arms-reach of Ravenna, watching down at the short girl with half-narrowed eyes.

“I don’t want to be afraid,” Ravenna is saying. “I'm sick of it. They say you can help with that, that you can take something away and give something in return. Can you take away my fear?”

Marie almost bolts down the hall to Ravenna, almost warns her against making a deal with the Takers-And-Givers, almost warns her against even mentioning the distance they are from normal but Darling only smiles gently, politely, not the predatory way they had when Marcus from Sumner’s Hall had tried to strike a bargain.

“No one can take your fear,” Darling says. “It’s yours. But if you give me a taste of it then I will give you protection when you are fearing.”

Marie starts backing down the hall, back towards her room, but she still sees Ravenna pause, nod, and go completely rigid as Darling bends their head to gently kiss her.

A wind blows down the hall, smelling of chickens and straw and Michaelmas daisies and Darling is vanished.

–

We need milk [Sent: 10 minutes ago | From: Maxie]

Please Charley, they’re puking everywhere [Sent: 5 minutes ago | From: Maxie]

CHARLEY. WAKE THE FUCK UP [Sent: 2 minutes ago | From: Maxie]

Charleeeeey. Please? I’ll pay for your coffee for the next week? [Sent: 30 seconds ago | From: Maxie]

Charley rolls out of bed and groans. Rubs their eyes with the heel of one hand and pulls on some trackie bottoms, a hoodie. Sticks their phone into their pocket, and their dorm card so they can get back into the halls.

Sumner’s Hall isn’t that far away but also: it’s cold out. They could text one of the others to let them back in, or make a libation of milk and see if Angrboda will use her tricks to get them back in the hall, but honestly, they can’t be fucked. The deal with Angrboda for free dairy is good, and they’re not about to add more clauses. Not after how much it had cost to pay Petey the Law Student for their help last time they’d made a change.

There’s crocs near the door, which they toe into and then pace down to the kitchen area to the fridge. Pull out a two-pint thing of milk, check their pockets again and sigh.

“Maxie,” they mutter. “You are paying for my coffee for a fortnight.”

–

When they get to Maxie’s floor in Sumner’s they see what the fuss is about. It’s a party, which is to be expected on a Friday night, and while Maxie is great at stocking up on bread, and they’d made a deal so their tapwater is the best and cleanest stuff on campus, Maxie never has enough milk.

Sometimes Charley thinks that was the price Maxie paid for the water.

The pukers are gathered in the kitchen, an array of bowls on the table, and all of them hunched over one. Maxie grins when they spot Charley, heedless of the flowers falling out of their tight curls.

“My friend,” they say. “You are the best. Stay awhile?”

Usually Charley wouldn’t but tonight, for some reason, they do. They help Maxie take care of the pukers for a few minutes, and then they go to circulate, catching up with Maxie’s flatmates.

It’s while they’re doing this they see Ravenna, her fall of dark hair and closed-in posture instantly recognisable and made worrying by the guy leaning over her, getting in her space. 

Charley’s pushing through the crowd when the guy yells, turns, and Ravenna vanishes.

They cast their eyes around, searching desperately - Ravenna was one of theirs, an East Hall-er, and she was from their flat, and everyone could tell something had happened, that she had something bad in her past. Their whole flat had met a week after she’d arrived to quietly promise to make sure she was safe as far as they could manage.

They spot Ravenna in an alcove by the door. Her head’s tilted back against the wall and opposite her–

Is that Darling? 

It is, six-foot Darling, built like a beanpole, green-tinted skin to match and they’re giving her space apart from a too-many-times-jointed hand on Ravenna’s wrist.

“Are you all right?” Darling is asking. “I wasn’t sure if I got here in time.”

Charley sees Ravenna draw a deep breath in and nod. As she leans forwards and Darling - slowly, very very slowly - wraps an arm around her shoulders, Charley meets Darling’s eyes. 

Charley knows Darling is quite aware of the iron nails they keep in their bag. They’d burned Darling’s hand when they’d tried to Take some sugar sachets back in December.

Darling nods.

–

They all see it, in the flat. Whatever happened to Ravenna, all her nightmares, they still dog her steps, but Darling dogs those - dogs the memories, the nightmares, and provides protection whenever someone looms too close.

Darling even appears in the kitchen area one morning when Marie reaches too close to Ravenna to take a pencil - suddenly a shadow solidified into the dark-greenish skin of Darling, a shimmering reflection of light became Darling’s smile. 

“Give her space,” they’d said, simply, and Marie retracted her arm.

Ravenna had smiled, reached back to Darling. “I know they won’t hurt me, Darling,” she’d said.

“Maybe,” Darling had said, taking Ravenna’s offered hand, “But I could taste your fear.”

Ravenna had smiled again, squeezed Darling’s hand.

Darling’s there in classes as well, at parties. In the library, in the cafe, even in the shops. When Sanjeet joins Ravenna to go to the gym he sees Darling solidify for a moment in a shadow by the door, unable to enter a place so full of iron. 

Keep her safe, Darling mouths to Sanjeet, and he nods back.

She’s from their flat after all. One of theirs to keep safe.

–

“Mavourneen,” Darling whispers to Ravenna one day. They’re sat in Ravenna’s room, Ravenna in her chair, Darling giving her space and perched on the very edge of her bed. “That’s my name.”

Ravenna’s hands cup her elbows, and she’s all curled into herself on the chair. Less curled into herself than she had been at the beginning, before she’d approached them and made the deal, but Darling can still see how tension rests in her bones, how fear itches at the back of her neck.

There’s an unspoken promise in giving Ravenna their name, and they wonder if she quite understands it. She understood enough to ask for the deal, to make very clear what she was asking for and to only accept will give you protection, not can. But she kept no iron with her, no salt, not a single charm or medallion to confer protection.

“I don’t know if my old name is really mine anymore,” Ravenna says, and they know she’s understood. “It doesn’t feel right, not since-” she pauses, swallows. “Not since what happened.”

They offer a hand, palm up. Ravenna takes it, slowly, and for a moment there is fear before her thumb runs over their skin and she relaxes. 

“What she did to you,” Darling says gently. “What she did was wrong.”

Ravenna smiles tentatively. “I think,” she says, “Ravenna is my real name, now. My true name.”

Darling smiles, showing far too many teeth. Their teeth are almost catlike, thin and almost translucent some of them. 

“Mavourneen,” Ravenna says softly, sounding it out. “That’s a lovely name. Does it mean anything?”

Darling smiles wider, shows more teeth. “It means,” they say, “Darling.”

Ravenna’s delighted laugh is the sweetest thing they’ve heard in years.

[x]

#stories #essayofthoughts #this is so lovely #darling #ravenna #submission

[fadingfartconnoisseur]

Chisinau and Minsk: Two Offbeat Soviet Cities

This year, in my effort to visit every European country, I made trips to two new cities: Chisinau (pronounced KEE-shee-no), the capital of Moldova, and Minsk, the capital of Belarus.

Why pair these cities (and countries) in a single post, even though these trips were months apart? Because of their similarities. Chisinau and Minsk are the capitals of two of the poorest countries in Europe. Both were formerly part of the Soviet Union, yet maintain a very Soviet feeling to this day with clear loyalty to Russia. Both felt like I had gone back in time. And both are off the beaten path for travelers, due in part to significant language barriers.

I even realized I have a lot of similar shots from both cities!

Traffic in Chisinau.

Traffic in Minsk.

Parks in Chisinau.

Parks in Minsk.

Friendship in Chisinau.

Friendship in Minsk.

But beyond the similarities between the two cities, my trips also played out similarly. I only had a little time to spare, and only visited one city within the country, even though I hate traveling that way and try to visit more places whenever I can. Both were stopovers I wasn’t terribly excited about, with more exciting cities (Odessa and Kiev; Vilnius and Tallinn) planned next. And I struggled in both cities, never feeling comfortable in either.

Here’s what I got up to in these cities.

Chisinau, Moldova

I arrived in Chisinau on an Air Moldova flight from Bucharest. As the tiny plane dipped and bobbed, my seat neighbor, a forty-something male, smiled and explained to me that the ride was bumpy because smaller planes are bumpier than larger ones. (As I smiled weakly and thought to myself, “Buddy, I fly for a living.”)

I hopped into one of the airport taxis, watching the outskirts of the city whirl by as I followed our path on Google Maps…then was dumbfounded when he dropped me in a parking lot far from my hostel.

“No,” I told him, showing Google Maps and the star of my accommodation. “Not here. Here. Take me here.”

He grabbed a piece of paper, wrote down a number, and handed it to me.

“1,3 km.”

Are you fucking kidding me? “No,” I snapped. “No. I’m not walking that far with a suitcase. Take me here.”

After a few minutes of arguing, neither of us understanding the other’s language, he finally acquiesced and drove me to the quiet suburban street where the star was…but where there was absolutely no sign of any hostel.

A few minutes of searching revealed that a hostel was located behind a fence, and I made my way inside. I grabbed my keys, dropped my bag in my private room (which, to my disappointment, was located off the dorm and far from the sole bathroom), and went out exploring.

Chisinau’s main street was surrounded by gray, crumbling, blocky Soviet buildings and torn-up sidewalks. An old man walking next to me suddenly unzipped his fly and began urinating on a staircase. Food stands would have “pizza” in their name but not actually sell any. And when I saw the roadside stands, I was bemused by the t-shirts for sale: Putin in sunglasses. Putin with a machine gun. Putin in karate gear kicking Obama in the face.

Bleak was the word that kept running through my head. I’ve always felt like Eastern Europe stereotypes were massively overblown, but Chisinau felt so depressing, it was pulling me down. Even strolling through the parks couldn’t lift my spirits.

By the end of my first afternoon, I thought to myself, “How the hell am I going to spend three days here?”

But did Chisinau get better? Yes, it did. 

First off, Moldova has some of the most outstandingly delicious red wine I’ve ever tasted. Seriously, it could go head to head with Italy and France and Napa, and a glass won’t cost you more than a few dollars.

Unfortunately, nearby Cricova Winery was not accepting guests, but I went to a little wine shop called Carpe Diem and got to sample several local libations. It’s very expensive by Moldovan standards — I think I paid around $15 USD for five generous pours — but with so little to do in the city, I didn’t mind the splurge.

The National Art Museum of Moldova was tiny but lovely, featuring art by both local and international artists.

And I spent a good chunk of time at Tucano Coffee, arguably the coolest cafe in Chisinau, but more like a Starbucks than anything else.

As a solo female traveler in Moldova, I felt safe for the most part — aside from the unlit streets and barking stray dogs surrounding the hostel. But when it came time to plan a day trip to Orhei Vechi, just outside the city, I was told that the options were either to wait around hours for the returning minibus (no thanks) or to hire a private driver for 50 to 100 euros.

Now, this wasn’t a car service or tour you could book online — this was just “some guy with a car” that the hostel owner knew. I’ll often say yes to that when I’m traveling with someone else, but when I’m traveling solo, that’s where I hesitate. Sometimes I decide to go for it — like when I was in Albania, there was no connecting bus in Fier, and I just hired a random guy with a van to take me to Berat. But I felt very comfortable in Albania. And other times, like when I wanted to visit Preah Vihear in Cambodia but got the “some guy with a car” option, I decided to skip it, as my third trip to Cambodia had been defined by extortion and robbery.

Moldova is not a place where I felt comfortable being alone in a car with a strange man — and for that reason, I decided not to go to Orhei Vechi at all. Nor the quasi-republic of Transnistria, which I regret a bit, but it was just too logistically difficult.

Eventually, I departed Chisinau by bus to the gorgeous city of Odessa, Ukraine. Finding the right bus and buying my ticket was a bit of a challenge with the language barrier, but the border crossing couldn’t have been easier.

Minsk, Belarus

There’s one reference about Minsk that everyone in my generation knows: it’s where Phoebe’s boyfriend David the scientist moved! The statues of Lenin reminded him of her beauty! Wait, you all know I’m talking about Friends, right?

First things first: Belarus can be tricky without a visa for most nationalities, but currently it’s possible for US citizens to visit visa-free if 1) they arrive and depart by air, not via Russia 2) they stay for less than five days 3) they obtain medical insurance covering 10,000 euros.

I arrived in Minsk on a Belavia flight from Helsinki. And let me say that immigration will not be happy when you pull out phone to show your onward ticket and World Nomads travel insurance policy on your phone. I got yelled at a lot. Print them both out! (And if you don’t have travel insurance, there’s a place by immigration where you can buy it.)

Minsk was overwhelming from the start. My cab driver dragged me all over the airport before getting me to leave the city, and he had a hard time finding where to drop me off, then I had major trouble finding my apartment. The language barrier was strong — the young man who let me into the apartment and I had to use Google Translate to communicate.

If I hadn’t had a knowledge of Cyrillic from my previous trips to Eastern Europe, I would have been completely lost.

I was lucky that I actually had internet in the apartment, though — almost everywhere in Minsk requires you to have a SIM card in order to access wifi (they send passwords via SMS). As someone who uses wifi to navigate her way everywhere, I found it a bit frustrating having to do all my research in advance at the apartment and then wing it for the rest of the day. A throwback to the travel style of yore!

The strange thing about Belarus is that there are two official languages — Russian and Belarusian — and the metro stations each have Russian and Belarusian names, which are often totally different. For example, one station can be called either “Plošča Lenina” or “Vakzalnaja.” And then the train might announce the station in one language but the signs are in the other language! You basically have to memorize both names and double-check.

I was initially planning to leave Minsk by train to Vilnius, Lithuania, and spent a long time painstakingly buying a train ticket, writing down what I thought was “Vilnius” in Cyrillic, then confusing the lady even more.

Then, thankfully, one of my readers pointed out that under this visa-free scheme, I had to leave by plane as well. I double-checked online and she was right! It was insane — the US State Dept site only says that you must enter Belarus by air, not depart by air. The Belarus Embassy in the US site, however, does say that you must depart by air as well.

That is a major oversight and I’m shocked that the US State Department would omit such critical information. Had I taken that train to the border, I would have been in a LOT of trouble. At any rate, I am dearly thankful to my dear reader and I am buying her dinner if our paths ever cross. I was able to get a flight to Vilnius for about $60.

But did Minsk get better? Yes, it actually did.

I grew to appreciate the grandeur of Minsk. It wasn’t on the level of anywhere in Ukraine, but I loved the wide avenues, large buildings, and how the bright yellows played against the blue sky.

I loved discovering that Belarusian women love buying flowers. There were tons of flower stands in the underground passageways throughout the city.

I found an adorable coffeeshop called Uptopiya 60 — and they were the only place in the city where I didn’t need a SIM card to get wifi access! Which meant I could actually summon an Uber to take me to the airport!

But for me, the biggest highlight was walking along the river. It was a gorgeous day and I loved seeing people out and about — the amorous couples, the bickering mothers and daughters, the twenty-something guys taking super-serious selfies gazing into the distance.

Could I have done more in Minsk? Absolutely. There are so many museums and viewpoints and day trips I could have experienced. There just wasn’t enough time on this trip.

The Takeaway

To be frank, I doubt I’ll be returning to Chisinau or Minsk. If a cool opportunity arises, perhaps, but I doubt either city has enough draw to pull me back. Could I have done a better job exploring either city (and country)? Absolutely! I’ll be the first to point out that I didn’t do nearly enough!

But does that mean that I have to return and do it right? We all have a finite amount of time on this planet, and I plan to spend mine exploring new and beloved destinations, rather than returning to do Moldova and Belarus over again.

Even so, I’m glad I went to both Chisinau and Minsk. Both felt like traveling back in time; both gave me an idea of what it was like to live behind the shadow of the Soviet Union. Both were a reminder that Europe isn’t all pretty old towns and tourism-driven cities.

If Chisinau or Minsk seem to be your kind of place, I think you should definitely go! But if you’d like something still Eastern European and off the beaten path and a bit like a time capsule but perhaps a little bit nicer and easier to travel, I wholeheartedly recommend Tirana, Albania; Skopje, Macedonia; and Kiev and Odessa, Ukraine.

READ NEXT: The Funk Factor of Tirana, Albania

Essential Info: In Chisinau I stayed at Chisinau Chill Hostel, which was decent, but I would prefer to stay in a nicer place in a better location next time. Do note that the only private room is off the dorm, so you have to walk through the dorm in order to go to the bathroom or anywhere else. The surrounding streets are unlit at night, so be sure to get back before it gets dark. There are several stray dogs in the neighborhood. Dorms from $6; private with shared bath from $22.

Admission to the National Art Museum is 10 Moldovan leu ($0.50).

In Minsk I stayed at Minsk Centre Apartment, a nice and central one-bedroom apartment. The hardest part was arranging the arrival and key drop-off, since Minsk has almost no internet available without a SIM card. Full apartment from $37 per night.

Travel insurance is vital for trips, and it’s a legal requirement for visiting Belarus. Whether you get appendicitis and need to be hospitalized, or your phone gets stolen, or an injury means you need to cancel all or part of your trip, travel insurance will help you in your time of need. I use and recommend World Nomads as travel insurance for trips to Moldova and Belarus.

Have you been to Chisinau or Minsk? Or elsewhere in Moldova or Belarus? What did you think?

The post Chisinau and Minsk: Two Offbeat Soviet Cities appeared first on Adventurous Kate.

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