#guess who made herself a fancy new header

[starcrossedspirit]

Jack does not find Opal remarkable or even that interesting, but her undying loyalty is useful. I still haven’t quite settled on her background but one thing is for certain: at some point in her late teenage years at the guild she comes into contact with him and is influenced by the promise of his power. Maze is tasked with honing her will and yes, becoming stronger through this kind of influence makes her feel like helping Jack is the right choice.

#oc: opal #fable oc #jack of blades #maze #fable the lost chapters #fable anniversary #fable 2 #fable 3 #guess who made herself a fancy new header #ill go back and fix up the other posts lol

[pr1ncessm00n]

for sale or wanted — jean kirstein x fem! reader

series masterlist

prev | next , part two

warnings: cursing, porco being toxic lol. dates are wrong once again sorry !!

[ playlist : love again - dua lipa ]

eight.

Half asleep and ready to go to bed, Y/N fell back into her bed. She picked up her phone, hoping to mindlessly scroll through some TikToks. Instead, she was met with two messages. Audibly gasping as she read Porco’s name, she dropped her phone, hitting herself in the face in the process. “Ow!”

Porco? Y/N thought incredulously. What the hell does he want?

Contemplating asking Ymir and Sasha for advice, Y/N then decided against it. This was her life, she couldn’t expect her friends to guide her though it. But God, was she such a coward when it came to Porco. It wasn’t like he was Prince Charming, but Y/N had an extreme loyalty complex. She couldn’t ever allow herself to let go of people. Porco used to berate her for that constantly.

Why are you so clingy? He would ask.

Who’s the clingy one now? Y/N thought bitterly. She decided to ignore Porco’s text until she could think of a reply that wasn’t along the lines of “No, fuck you.” She slid her thumb over to Jean’s message.

Great. Another text asking to talk. Why couldn’t people just send their question and save a girl the anxiety? Y/N scolded herself for allowing her egotistical ex to ruin her mood. Jean didn’t deserve her snappiness.

Jean sighed in relief. Thank God she replied. He didn’t know if he could handle the mortification if she didn’t.

Y/N pondered for a bit.

Y/N laughed quietly to herself. So Jean could in fact match her sense of humor. She exited out of their chat, mindlessly scrolling through social media. She actively avoided Porco’s message, not wanting to burden herself with the chore of responding to him. What could he possibly have to say? She headed to Twitter, hopefully finding something relatable to retweet. As Y/N scrolled, she saw a familiar face appear on her timeline.

Recommended for you from contacts, the header read. Below it was about 3 profiles of people in her contacts she had not followed yet. Among them, was Jean.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

Should I? She questioned. Would she be overstepping some unspoken boundary? What if she hurt her own feelings by stalking and seeing something she wouldn’t like/had no business seeing? Maybe she should just ignore it. She doubted Jean was some internet creep… but wouldn’t it be good to know if he was? Curiosity getting the better of her, Y/N decided to invade that boundary and look at his account.

He didn’t have much content from what Y/N could see. He just retweeted fancy cars and some funny memes. She spotted Connie, Sasha’s lifelong friend and Jean’s infamous roomie. She mentally hoped Jean didn’t tweet like Connie. That would be the ultimate ick.

Y/N’s thumb stopped scrolling, hovering over a tweet. Her heart beated ten times more rapidly.

well she is pretty lol, Jean’s tweet read. Tweeted just an hour after he met Y/N.

Could it be? Y/N wondered. No way. There’s no way it’s about me. I’m just jumping to conclusions. Why would he say that about me? I’m just being self absorbed.

She brushed off her inquiries, deciding to just stop stalking his account entirely. From what she already saw, there wasn’t anything suspicious or icky enough to make her want to not interact with him. And she was already paranoid, so every tweet she saw she would begin to assume it was about her as well. She was just getting her hopes up.

Rolling over on her side, Y/N placed her phone to charge and went to sleep. It was late, which was probably what was causing her mind to become fuddled.

——

“You should’ve told me Sasha’s third roomie was Y/N,” Reiner had said to Jean in the truck. “I totally blindsided her. Top ten worst encounters of my life.”

“Uh, care to enlighten me? Do you guys have beef or something?” Jean asked, perusing the radio stations.

Reiner sighed. “She’s dating- was dating- my childhood friend, Porco.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “Oh.”

Reiner glanced at him before stopping at a red light. “I said dating. He dumped her like a week ago. It was pretty trash.”

Jean secretly felt more at peace hearing that. Poor Y/N, but.. she could probably do better than this Porco person.

“So what does that have to do with you?” Jean asked.

Reiner shrugged. “I guess I didn’t really help. She said she felt a little betrayed. Like I agreed with Porco and my friends that she’s the crazy one.”

Jean nodded. “So you were a bystander.”

Reiner sighed again, tilting his head in an I guess motion. “It’s just hard. Porco’s like my brother, and I don’t agree with how he acted… but maybe I should have spoken up sooner.”

Jean patted his shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself, man. That was between them.”

“Yeah. I could have at least told Porco to step it up, though.” Reiner murmured.

I’m glad you didn’t. Jean snickered to himself.

“So, you think she’s cute?” Reiner shot Jean a devilish grin. Jean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess. You goin’ to Historia’s birthday?” He slyly changed the subject.

“Is it open invite?” Reiner’s eyebrows scrunched up.

Jean shrugged. “I have an invite. Maybe you can be my plus one.”

Reiner made a “Hmm” sound in response, weary at Jean’s invite. “What are you dressing as if you go?”

“I was thinking swag era Justin Bieber.” Jean replied, smiling widely.

Reiner gave him a look. “You for real?”

Jean’s smile dropped. “What?”

Reiner laughed. “I’d pay money to see how badly you embarrass yourself with that.”

“It’s a 2000��s party?” Jean was confused.

“Yeah, but everyone does like, early 2000s. Think Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake.”

Jean shot him a curious look.

“What? Pop culture is my guilty pleasure.” Reiner explained himself. “And everyone knows Britney Spears.”

Jean hummed in response. “I just think you got a thing for pop girls.” He referenced the earlier Becky G mishap.

“I’m not even gonna deny it anymore.” Reiner agreed, defeated.

——

“Guys,” Y/N said the next morning. Ymir and Sasha were at the breakfast “nook” (a corner of their miniature kitchen designated for a small table that barely fit all three of them), Sasha eating cereal and Ymir chomping on an apple while scrolling on her phone. “Porco texted me last night.”

Ymir continued scrolling, unfazed. Sasha’s eyes widened and she swallowed her food before speaking. “What? Why?” Y/N glared at Ymir.

“Thanks for your interest YMIR, but as i was telling Sasha-“

“I’m Sasha.” Sasha cut in, obviously confused.

Y/N gave Sasha a look.

“Did you say something?” Ymir said, bored. She still hadn’t looked up from her phone.

“Ymir!” Sasha scolded. “Y/N’s telling us Porco texted her!”

“Who’s Porco?” Ymir replied, monotonous.

Y/N sighed in exasperation. “Are you stalking Eren again? I already told you to stop comparing your subscribers-“

“I’m not stalking Eren!” Ymir snapped defensively. “I’m…” She mumbled the next part incoherently.

“Huh?” Sasha and Y/N asked in unison.

“I SAID,” Ymir repeated, annoyed. “I’m looking up Britney Spears outfits. Historia wanted us to go as different eras of her. But I can’t find anything that matches my style.” She grumbled.

Y/N’s heart melted. It was adorable watching Ymir struggle to find a matching costume for Historia. It was like Marilyn Manson wanting to get along with a CareBear.

“Just go as JT,” Sasha said, chewing her cereal.

“One, close your mouth, and two, Historia asked for us to go as Brittney. I can’t just show up like a dude.” Ymir visibly deflated as she scrolled through countless pictures of a younger Spear’s iconic looks.

“Why don’t you try her bandanna phase? That wasn’t so over the top, and she wore mostly jeans.” Y/N suggested as she squeezed into the corner chair.

Ymir sighed. “I don’t want to wear a skirt or some bimbo shit. That’s y’alls look.”

“How do you manage to sound endearing trying to please your girlfriend while simultaneously insulting us?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“It’s a talent.” Ymir waved her off. “What did you guys get her though?”

“A giftcard to Urban Outfitters,” Sasha replied. “I got tired of searchin’. I put $50 on it. I think that should be enough for like, a shirt and a half. She better like it, too. ‘Cus I’m broke.” Sasha pointed her spoon at Ymir accusingly.

“I got her the Taylor Swift vinyl she’s been wanting. And some pink film for her camera.” Y/N added. Ymir nodded approvingly.

“I hope she likes my gift. I don’t know if I’m moving too fast though?” For the first time since Y/N mer Ymir, Y/N hadn’t ever seen her this distraught.

“Calm down,” Y/N reassured her. “You’ve been together for years now. I don’t think you can move any slower.”

Ymir rolled her eyes, leaning back im her chair with arms crossed. “It’s a small trip to Seoul. I know she’s been dying to go. It’s not like it’s anything she hasn’t seen before with her family… but I figure it’d be different with just us.” Y/N’s heart melted.

“That’s so sweet!” Sasha exclaimed, eyes watery. “I want an Ymir!”

“Well, you can’t have me!” Ymir laughed. “It’s not a big deal. The sponsorship I managed to land gave me a decent payout.” Ymir sheepishly replied, her cheeks a faint red

Y/N nudged her. “Look at you, being modest.”

Ymir waved her hand. “Shut up. How does this look?” She turned her phone to Y/N, showing a picture of Britney Spears clad in low waist jeans, a black tank top and sure enough, a yellow bandanna.

“That’s perfect.”

Ymir smirked, smug. “Just like me.”

“Y/N!” Sasha shouted. “Go back to the Porco thing!”

“Oh, yeah. What did Oinky want?” The girls turned to face Y/N, who shrank a bit back in her seat.

“That’s a new one,” Y/N chuckled. “I thought of one last night, too,” She paued for dramatic effect. “Porker!” She gasped out, giggling, hitting the table in a slight fit of laughter. Sasha and Ymir gave Y/N a blank stare, unamused at Y/N’s mediocre roast.

“Not funny, didn’t laugh.” Sasha spat.

“If your career was stand up you’d be living in a box.” Ymir deadpanned.

“Tough crowd,” Y/N sighed, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. “But if you must know…” She purposely stalled a bit, knowing it would send an impatient, jittery Sasha over the edge and annoy Ymir even more, even if she pretended she was not interested in the relationship drama between Y/N and her disgraced ex.

“Just say it already!” Sasha begged.

“I…don’t know. I haven’t responded.” Y/N finally admitted, putting her head in her hands. “I just-“ Her words were muffled by her hands.

Ymir removed her hands from her face. “Your words, darling.” She scolded, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Ugh,” Y/N groaned. “I’m too pussy to respond. He just asked if we could talk. What could he possibly want? What if he wants the couch? It’s just too much.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic gaze. “Just leave him on read! If he wants to talk so badly he’ll find a way to say what he needs to.”

“For once, I agree.” Ymir added.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Y/N stretched. “But it did keep me up at night wondering what he wanted.”

“Y/N, forget him! Historia’s party is soon, there’s no time to worry about ugly men!” Sasha stood up, rushing to put her bowl in the sink. “I got a lecture in a few, but you need to find your costume! We’re all going as Britney!” She said before disappearing into her room.

“Um, who’s gonna tell her we’re not all dressing as Britney?” Ymir inquired.

Y/N snorted. “Not I. I’m probably going as Suki from Fast and the Furious.”

“Niiceee,” Ymir fist pumped Y/N. “She was my sexual awakening.” Y/N choked on her muffin.

“Ymir, what’d we say about uncalled for horniness?” Y/N reprimanded. Ymir made her way to the coat rack, searching for her car keys in her leather jacket’s pocket.

“If I was gonna be chewed out for liking women I would’ve lived with my parents!” Ymir called out. “I gotta pick up Historia!”

“Will you be back?” Y/N shouted back.

“Get off my dick!” Ymir shut the door. Laughing to herself, Y/N picked up Ymir’s dish to place in the sink. She was, out of the three, the more tidier one. Ymir did the best cleaning, but she was selectively lazy.

“Bye, Y/N!” Sasha shouted before leaving in a rush. One thing Y/N had grown used to was the fairly chaotic mornings. She secretly hoped they would be like this for a long time.

Since Y/N had transferred, Ymir and Sasha had been the best roommates she could ask for. Yes, Ymir was snappy and Sasha was a bit ditzy, but it was the perfect combination and they were respectful. Y/N had transferred from Sina University purely for academic reasons, but she had not expected to fit in so well with the girls or their group of pre establish friends. She worried she would not fit in since they had already been so tight-knit, but found that wasn’t the case at all. They were open, accepting and loyal. Y/N couldn’t be happier where she was, and even though she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful for how close they had all gotten in their short time together. Who knew randomly assigned rooming would provide her with friendship to last a lifetime?

Which is why every time she thought about Porco she kicked herself. How could she have let some… meathead ruin her freshmen year of college? She should have been having fun, interacting with Ymir and Sasha’s friends more, lived her own life. But no, she chose to become involved with a self absorbed fraternity guy of all people. Now she was semi-heartbroken, extremely humiliated, and about a year’s worth of time and effort short. She had allowed him to take advantage of her so much, that he felt he could contact her still after basically using her. The thought made her want to rip her hair out and scream.

Almost as if through divine intervention, her phone beeped with a notification.

What the actual hell? Y/N thought.

She froze for a second. What does she do? Respond? Ignore? Block?

After a few seconds of mental deliberation, Y/N finally decided. She was fed up with the lack of bravery she showed and decided to just end it once and for all. Typing out a response, she clicked send and decided to go to the mall for the retail therapy she was sure to need after whatever Porco said what he wanted to say. Turning the shower on, she braced herself for his response. What could Porco want? She couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

This better be good, Y/N thought.

taglist : @tsunderehokage @lagrimasdeglitter @snowyseungs @mukeovernetflix @bakugouswh0r3 @punicorn999 @deadlyaffairs @usernamehere91 @calumsfringe

a/n: woohoo!! long chapter. so to recap: i graduated!! i am finally free from the clutches of high school. i might do a face reveal :) bc i loved my grad dress. anywho, my fever cleared up, i have chapter 9 already completed (just need to revise + edit) and this is NOT proof read!! it’s 2 am guys i’m tired. but i hope you enjoyed this :) sorry for the weird cropping too. peace out

#aot headcanons #aot imagines #attack on titan x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirstein smau #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk smau #snk #snk x reader #snk headcanons #snk fanfiction #snk jean #jean aot #jean x female reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirchstein headcanons #jean kirschtein scenarios #attack on titan social media au #attack on titan #aot smau #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n

[dandelionflower]

She’s not here

They were all on the bus, heading back to the hotel for dinner and rest.

It was hard work, fixing up a park, but the class did it well. By the end of the day, it was beautiful, all traces of trash had disappeared and they had even managed to give some benches a new coat of paint.

Lila beamed and clapped as it was over, promising everyone a scoop of ice cream, as was tradition when she finished a big project. However, when they found a place that was selling ice cream, she realized she left her wallet in her room.

Apologizing profusely, she swore that she’d get them a treat some other time.

“This has never happened before; I’m so sorry everyone!”

Alya patted her shoulder. “It’s okay, girl. You already helped so much to heal that park; let us do something for you.”

“At least let me order for all of you.”

“If you want, girl, sure.”

“Okay, I’m usually really good at guessing people’s favorite ice cream flavors once I get to know them, so I should be good for most of you, but since Marinette and I haven’t been on such good terms lately, I’ll probably need to ask her. Where is she?”

“I dunno. Mari!” Alya called into the meager crowd of students. “Come on out, hun, we need to know your pick for ice cream!”

Adrien piped up from the back, where he was chatting with Rose. “I don’t think she’s here. She must not have come back from her walk.”

Alya felt her heart race with concern. “Lila, I know you want us to have ice cream, but there’s no way we can just leave Marinette in the forest.”

“Of course not, Alya.” She placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go look for her after I place our orders. I know these woods better than anybody; I’ll have her back in a jiff.”

“Okay, thanks Lila.” She let out a breath, leaning against Nino.

True to her word, Lila left soon after ordering for everyone, heading down the sidewalk to look for Marinette. Sure, she seemed to be going the wrong way, but it was probably a shortcut she forgot to mention.

—

The walk back to the hotel was lovely, with Alya and Adrien arguing over which picture of Ladybug should be the new header for her blog and Nino holding her hand the whole way.

It was only when she got back to the hotel and saw Lila lounging beside a cute boy, did she remember that her BFF was missing.

“Lila! Did you find her?”

Adrien jolted, mid-sentence and looked up at Lila with hopeful eyes. It seemed that he forgot about Marinette too.

Lila sat still for a moment, before a look of remorse crossed her face.

“I’m so sorry, Alya. I couldn’t find her. I scoured every path, but nothing.”

“I should probably check.” Adrien raised his hand. “After all, I’m her boyfriend.”

“That’s a great idea.” Lila stood and walked to clasp Adrien’s arm. “I’ll come too, so we don’t get lost like Marinette.”

An odd look crossed Adrien’s face, but he nodded nevertheless. They began walking to the exit.

“Ah!” Lila flinched, clutching her leg. “My leg! I must have sprained it while looking for Marinette.”

“Oh!” Alya rushed to Lila’s other side, helping Adrien hold her up. “Let’s get you to our room, maybe get some ice for that leg.”

“No, I know you and Nino probably wanted to spend some time together. Adrien can take me. After all, what are all of those fencing lessons for?” She nudged him with a teasing grin, which he shakily returned. Poor guy, probably so worried about Marinette.

“Okay, make sure you call me if you need anything.” She grabbed both of her shoulders. “Anything.”

“Of course.” She smiled and patted her arm before tugging Adrien to the stairs.

Alya turned to Nino with a beam. “Soo, wanna hang out?”

He rolled his eyes, slipping his headphones back around his neck. “Of course, it’s not like we’ve talked about it since we found out about the trip.”

She leaned into his side, pressing a kiss on his jaw. “I’ve looked up a map, and I’m ready to show you all the sights.”

“Hi!” An unfamiliar voice surprised them; it was chirpy like Rose, but not quite as high. They turned in unison and saw a willowy girl with a long ponytail trailing down her back. An odd headband was woven into the deep purple locks.

“Sorry to eavesdrop, but I heard you two were looking for a place to hang out? Might I suggest…” her eyes landed on Alya’s face before brightening up again. “The aquarium? In the evening like this, the lights turn on and everything seems to glow an incredible blue.”

“Really?” She glanced at Nino with a grin. “That sounds like an incredible thing to put on my blog! Come on, Nino, let’s go!”

“Okay.” He chuckled and allowed himself to be pulled down a random hallway.

“Just take a right, then a left. It should be two doors down!”

They both giggled like kindergartners as they ran down the halls. Nino stopped and cocked a brow when she continued pulling him past the door the girl mentioned.

“Let’s play a game.” She whispered. “We both get lost and try to meet back here. Video chat so we know we don’t cheat.”

He pulled out his phone and called her in response.

Once they had gotten thoroughly lost, Alya set a timer and began dashing back to the aquarium.

It took her three minutes. (she may have cheated a little bit, but it wasn’t her fault! Nino is really cute when he gets winded from running!) She stumbled into the room, listening to Nino complain about how much she was making him run.

It was incredible. The latent orange from the sunset and the blues from the aquarium blended in a perfect contrast that she almost dropped her phone.

“Whereisshe...”

“You say something babe?” She glanced down at her phone. It was blank; no service.

Oh well, Nino would tell her what he said when he got here. Meanwhile, she raised her camera app to capture the stunning sight before her.

“She’snothere...”

A flicker at the corner of her screen. She lowered her phone, but nothing was there. It was slipped into her pocket as she turned to the larger aquarium. The fish seemed to be missing, except for one bright orange angel fish.

“She’snothere...”

The fish swam in hypnotizing figure eights. Alya stared at it, entranced. It felt like with every figure eight, the fish was stealing a little bit of breath from her.

“She’snothere.”

The fish moved faster and faster, until the swift motions combined with her shortness of breath made it look almost like it was forming a circle.

“She’snothere.”

No, not a circle.... a face. A face with thick rimmed glasses and a mole just above her eye. A face that looked like hers, but not.

“She’snothere. She’snothere. She’s. Not. HERE.”

A body erupted from the water, and Alya flinched from the waved, but they didn’t even spray her with a mist. Almost like they weren’t there.

A girl stood before her, hair in knots, staring at Alya. She was in a fancy blue dress that looked like it should be poofy, if not for the water dripping from the hem.

Alya stood stock-still, chest heaving. “Who are you?”

“Where is she?” A voice hissed from nowhere.

The girl looked at her with hollow eyes. “She’s not here.”

“Who are you walking about? What was that voice?”

The figure jolted, like a glitching video. Suddenly, her hair was neat and styled. Her dress was dry and fanned out around her.

“Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Where is she?” The bodiless voice asked again, this time in a tone so sickly sweet, Alya felt like retching.

Her mirror image grinned at the ceiling, walking closer to the empty aquarium. She put her hand on it, like she was about to push open a door.

“She’s right here.”

Spectral waves rushed from the glass, assaulting and surrounding Alya. Her breaths became more and more shallow, it felt like her throat was closing up.

Like she was drowning.

—

When Nino came in, panting and just barely biting his tongue from cussing, Alya was curled in a ball on the floor, wheezing.

“Als!” He fell to his knees beside her, taking in her vitals like he learned in the akuma relief seminar. “You okay? It looks like you had either an allergic reaction or a panic attack. What was in that ice cream you ate?”

“Don’t...know... Lila ordered.” She gripped his hand tightly and pulled herself up, pulling out her phone and dialing Lila’s number.

“Alya!” She could hear the smile in her voice. “Adrien, come on over, it’s Alya.”

“Hey Alya.”

“What... was in the ice cream?”

“The ice cream I ordered? I can’t remember... hazelnuts, I think?”

She glanced at Nino with wide eyes. She was allergic to hazelnuts. Not enough to do anything serious, but enough that she had a little trouble breathing afterwards. That must also explain that weird stuff she saw too; oxygen deprivation.

Nino grabbed her arm, fully intent on taking her to her room to recuperate for the rest of the night. She allowed him to, still a little shaken.

—

A sleek fox sat in front of a broken-eyed ghost. So?

“She’s not here.” Anya replied, glaring at the ceiling. She looked back down, her defiant eyes turning sad. “She’s not here.”

Not true. She’s here, and she’s safe and sound in her room.

Her broken eyes lit up and she floated purposefully towards the best room in the home.

Not yet you don’t! Finny hovered in front of the ghost. She’s sleeping and you won’t bother her!

The ghost nodded forlornly and dissipated.

That settles it, doesn’t it? Grace asked once the ghost was gone

Yep, Allegra moved forwards. These students are helping them pass on. Once they impart their knowledge, and scare them straight, they get their free will back, to haunt or help who they choose.

It’s weird though, isn’t it? Finny mused. How just one word could have changed everything? If Anny had just lied to her, none of this will be happening.

But she didn’t. Allegra reminded him softly. None of them did, and this is the price they pay.

Yeah... Finny flew low. Hey Allegra?

Yeah, Fin?

She’s here. Giddiness oozed from his voice.

Yeah, Allegra stared at the hallway leading to the girl that gave their lives purpose again, she is.

………

The rest

………

@merry-madness @calliopeia @drama-queen-supreme @kaydenth3gayden @mcheang @nomiegnome @never-say-donuts @vixen-uchiha @miracul0us-multishipper @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @chocolatecustarddanish @iwantswifttoblessmysoul @digitalmagpie @ilseofskadi @nerdy-and-a-little-birdy @minty-goose @nataladriana9 @constellation-king @animegirlweeb @persephonebutkore @ahalloweengirl @r0sebutch @marinettepotterandplagg @beelzzebop @akalovelymaybe @pleasefollowmeuwu @angelost4r @constancetruggle @speaknowtome @some-oxymoron @nerdy-scifi-birdy @purplesundaze @aestheticnpoetic @neptuningkai @2confused-2doanything @goggles-mcgee @grumpy-kitten-vixen @atremisdragona @lookatthestars1 @demonicbusiness @toodaloo-kangaroo

#felinette #marinette dupain cheng #ml marinette #ml salt #felix culpa #ml adrien #alya cesaire #ml Alya #djwifi #ml nino #nino lahiffe #oc grace #oc finny #ml Allegra #tw drowning #a scribble #Lila salt #ml class salt

[jarienn972]

A Simple Spell - Chapter Eight

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

I’m a tiny bit late getting this latest chapter of my @cssns story posted this evening but I'm going to try my best to get back on track with posting updates every other Monday as long as the real world doesn't get too crazy.

The last chapter had Emma reacting to learning she was related to the Mills sisters, angrily lashing out at Regina about keeping such a huge secret from her before getting drunk and having a heartfelt talk about it with Killian. As she settled in to sleep off too much rum, Killian was rendered unconscious by an invisible attacker. This chapter picks up the next morning and by the end of this installment, you'll have a good idea who the real villain of this tale is and an inkling of what Emma has gotten herself into.

As always, I want to thank the event organizers for all of their hard work.  Definitely looking forward to the completion of all of this year’s stories and for the newly announced 2020 event!  I also want to extend huge thank yous again to @lassluna for all of her help as a beta reader and to @cocohook38 for the incredible art work featured in the header.

Catch up from the beginning on AO3, FF.net or here on Tumblr:  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven

The morning sunlight filtering through the break room mini blinds was every bit as unpleasant as Emma had expected when it hit that perfect angle to land directly on her face. Her head throbbed from her over-indulgence in rum last night, but she had no one to blame but herself. Tossing the blanket unceremoniously over the back of the sofa, she pushed herself up to a sitting position just as a somewhat bewildered Graham strolled in to brew his morning coffee.

"Emma? What are you doing here?" he asked, face scrunched in confusion. "Did you sleep here?"

"Yeah," she replied groggily as she stretched and forced her feet to the floor. She stood up to find the room only spinning slightly but increasing her nausea. "Had a little familial disagreement so after a few drinks with a friend, I came here to sleep it off."

"Must have been one rough night…"

"You don't even want to know…" she insisted as she made her way into the locker room in search of a change of clothing. She'd learned a long time ago to always keep a clean shirt and a pair of jeans on hand for emergencies. This way, she knew she had something available to make herself feel a little more human and look at tad more presentable before she embarked on her quest to confront those who'd kept her mother's real identity a secret from her. "Are you making coffee?" she called out to Graham as she changed from yesterday's attire.

"Just starting it now."

"Think you can make it extra strong?"

"I think I can manage that," Graham replied as he fished two mugs out of the cabinet mounted above the break room sink. He placed the mugs on the counter, knowing better than to ask anything else about her night. He'd slept off his own drunken benders in some unusual places too, so before switching on the coffee pot, he removed the bottle of aspirin that they kept in the cabinet and placed it next to her mug. He knew she'd appreciate it.

Emma emerged a few minutes later sporting a clean, rust colored tee shirt and blue jeans, eagerly inhaling the enticing aroma of the fresh brew. Graham was no longer in the break room but she immediately smiled when she saw the aspirin bottle atop the counter. Coffee and a few pain relievers were just what she needed right now before she set off down the street to have a chat with a squirrely pawn shop owner.

**********

Fueled by caffeine and a reinvigorated desire to get some answers about her mother's mysterious past, Emma stormed her way across and then down half a block of Main Street with Gold's potion booked clutched tightly in her left hand. Since the aspirin hadn't yet had time to kick in, her head was still pounding which was leaving her in no mood to take any crap from the pawn shop's owner.

Gold had opened up the shop for business at exactly 8AM, mere minutes before Emma shoved open the entrance door and stomped her way to the counter where the proprietor stood. She dropped the book onto the display case in front of him, almost hoping that the glass would break. Unfazed by her action, Gold glanced down at the potion book resting on the countertop then back up at the deputy's irate face.

"Good morning, Deputy Swan," he greeted her with little emotion in his voice and showing a considerable lack of interest in the very item that he'd requested her to retrieve for him.

"I found your book," she informed him very matter-of-factly, patting it with her fingertips to ensure she had his attention. "Found the little surprise inside of it too…"

"Surprise? Whatever are you talking about, Ms. Swan?" She wasn't the least bit surprised that he'd feign ignorance of the photograph and letter and she wasn't buying it.

She flipped open the book's cover to reveal the photo of her mother as a child and the faded, handwritten letter from her grandfather. "I suppose you're going to deny that you knew these were inside the book?"

Gold shrugged nonchalantly as he carefully lifted the aging photograph to examine it. "I loaned this book to Cora a very long time ago. I certainly can't speak for what she might have stuck inside it's covers."

"But you knew…"

"Knew what, Dearie?" he rudely interrupted her statement.

"You knew that Cora and my mother were sisters," she stated, undaunted by his apparent disinterest. "Why is it that everyone in this town thinks that it's such a horrible thing for me to know who I'm actually related to around here?"

"I would suppose it is because they weren't certain how you might react to learning the truth about your mother."

"And I suppose that it should have been left up to me, not them!" she countered, raising her voice angrily. "I've had it with all of the secrets! I want those items that belonged to my mother as I kept my end of the deal and I want you to spill what you know about my history!"

"Do you think you can handle the truth about your lineage?"

"I'll let you know. Now, why don't you start telling me what the big secrets are?"

"Fine," he relented as he made his way over to the ornate cabinet where he'd stored the items belonging to Ava Nolan. "You fulfilled your end of our deal by returning my book so your mother's items now belong to you." He tugged open the cabinet door and removed the small box and books he'd shown Emma the previous day and then placed them atop the counter. "I will answer some of your questions as a courtesy to your mother as well, but not out here. How about we go have a seat in my office where it will be more private for you to interrogate me?"

"Lead the way…"

Gold held the heavy beaded curtain aside as he gestured for Emma to pass through the doorway to his office and storeroom that lay beyond the sales floor. The decor of this not-for-public-eyes area was even more eclectic and disturbing than the shop itself but since she wasn't here to debate his decorating choices, she withheld commentary. She was only here this morning to learn about her mother, not discuss interior decorating.

"Have a seat, Ms. Swan," he said, directing her to a fancy upholstered chair that was probably as old as the town itself. Emma sat down on the offered chair, but she didn't allow herself to get too comfortable. She wasn't planning this to be a long, social visit. "I don't have all of the answers you seek, but what would you like to know?" he asked as he took a seat to her right on a burgundy divan.

"I guess we'll start with the same one I've been asking since last night - why was my mother's identity and place in this town such a secret?"

"That was a choice made by your family, I'm afraid. As you know, Storybrooke is a town with an unusual pedigree that they sought to protect. How much of the history of this town do you know?"

"I know a little. I know it was founded by the Blanchard family after the Civil War, in the late 1800's."

"That is correct - your great-grandparents founded the town in 1872, selecting this remote area of Maine to create a safe haven for those who wished to practice the magical arts, both dark and light. They welcomed fellow witches and warlocks and opened a portal across the bay to connect to other magical realms. However, the magic that Storybrooke was founded upon came with a price. To secure the magic that supports the town's infrastructure, your great-grandparents formed a pact with a very powerful warlock from a distant realm. That warlock agreed to share his extensive powers with the town of Storybrooke in exchange for an agreement that he could return whenever he chose and demand a duel for the powers of any practitioner he chose. Should his chosen competitor lose, he would gain their powers, Should the opponent win, the warlock would consider the debt paid and leave forever."

"That seems like an awfully big price to pay just to have magic in this town, but I don't get what that has to do with my mother…"

"I'm getting to that," he assured her, frowning at the young woman's impatience. "The warlock has returned to Storybrooke twice since the town's inception and has won the challenge both times. Your mother was his unfortunate second victim."

"She lost her powers?" Emma asked, partially for clarification, although she'd understood Gold's explanation of the warlock's competition, so she already knew the answer.

"She did. Her challenge caused her to be tricked into making an ill-advised choice, but that's really all I know of it. After losing her magic, she attempted to stay here in town and live a normal life. She married widower Robert Nolan, had you, but then one day, something changed and she took you and disappeared."

"When I was growing up, she never once mentioned that she'd had powers of any kind," Emma stated as she attempted to process all of this new information. "I always thought that she'd run from something bad, maybe something abusive, but after meeting David and learning about our dad, that didn't make sense anymore and now it makes even less sense… What caused her to run away from her home and family?"

"I'm afraid that you'll need to ask those questions of your family. I can't tell you what pushed her away or why they kept her identity a secret from you, but now, if you don't mind, I should be getting back to work."

"I understand. One last question though," she began as she stood up. "Do you have any idea what ill-advised choice she had to make?"

"Afraid not, dearie. All I know is that the warlock came into town and weaseled his way into her life, leading her to that decision. She chose poorly."

"What the hell did she have to choose?" Emma repeated the question to herself while exhaling a deep sigh.

Gold shook his head and shrugged as he ushered her out of his office. "I don't remember much from that time, but from what I do recall of your mother, it likely involved a man."

"What?" she exclaimed as she crossed the threshold back into the main shop. "What do you mean by that?"

"Growing up, your mother had very bad luck with the men in her life. Your grandfather died when she was still rather young and she had a string of boyfriends but few serious relationships. Perhaps your brother or your cousins will remember more?"

"Well, this just keeps getting better and better…," she muttered under her breath as the old man disappeared behind the curtain without another word. Befuddled, she gathered up the few belongings her mother had left with Gold, collected the photograph of her mother and aunt along with her grandfather's letter and wandered out to the sidewalk completely lost in thought. She now had the knowledge that her mother had once possessed magical powers but lost them after being on the losing end of some sort of challenge from an evil warlock - a challenge that had involved some sort of choice - but what? By Gold's description, this challenge had taken place a few years before her mother had run away to Boston so it didn't seem as though the loss of her magic had been the catalyst that caused her to bolt. So, what had it been? What choice had the warlock forced her to make? Had it actually involved a man like Gold had suggested or was there more to it?

She was anxious to see what was inside the mysterious box Gold had held onto for all of these years and to learn more about the books that accompanied the box. First though, she had to take a break and feed her grumbling stomach. The coffee had been a good way to start the morning, but she needed to fuel her growling belly and Granny's was tantalizingly close… Three or four more cups of industrial strength coffee couldn't hurt either.

She took a step into the street, barely noticing the car parked curbside in front of the pawn shop and too distracted by her own thoughts to realize that there was another person in her path. She walked straight into that unseen pedestrian, the collision sending them both tumbling to the asphalt. Emma managed to hold on to her mother's box, but the books fell from her grasp.

"I'm so sorry…,' she began to apologize profusely to the man she'd collided with. "I wasn't looking where I was going…" She pushed herself to her knees and began to gather her belongings, almost afraid to look to see who she had so awkwardly run into. "Are you alright? I hope I didn't knock you over too hard…"

"It's alright, Emma…," the familiar voice said with a chuckle. "This isn't exactly how I planned to run into you, but I'm not going to complain." Recognizing the voice, she flushed with embarrassment. It may have only been Walsh, but she would rather he not see her this flustered.

"Walsh, I guess we literally ran into each other," she said with a shy, awkward grin. "I'm really sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going."

"No worries. I wasn't really paying attention either. I was just heading over to visit Mr. Gold and see if there were any updates on my incoming shipment. What about you? I thought you were off today but that intensity in your gaze says otherwise."

"Oh, I was just returning a book to Gold in exchange for this old stuff that used to belong to my mother. Now I'm heading over to Granny's to get some breakfast and take a look at this stuff. Wanna join me? I'll buy to make up for getting your suit all dirty…"

"I just might take you up on that offer," he said as he brushed some invisible dust off of his dark, coffee bean brown suit. Yeah, she had coffee cravings on her brain again… "Let me finish up my business here but I'll stop over when I'm all done."

"Sounds good," she replied with a hopeful smile. "I'll take my time. After last night, I'll probably need to go through a couple of pots of coffee…"

"Last night? What happened last night?"

"Let's just call it an interesting night that ended in a few too many drinks after having way too much unloaded on me too quickly…"

"Ah… I have heard that the full moon can lead to some overwhelming revelations around here…"

"Oh, just a few revelations… But I'd better let you get back to business. I'll save you a seat if you decide to take me up on the breakfast offer."

"Sounds great, Emma. I'll try to keep things short," he offered, not exactly promising that he'd make it but leaving her hopeful that she might gain some company for breakfast. She had so much to process and she hadn't even gotten to the relatives yet. Maybe it was best to have someone to share the discoveries with her instead of sitting in the diner alone?

Walsh held the smile on his face until as Emma continued (cautiously this time) across the quiet street towards her intended destination of Granny's diner. Once her back was fully to him and he was no longer in her purview, he straightened his sport coat and reset his composure. Projecting a decidedly more business-like demeanor, he entered the pawn shop to seek out its owner.

Alerted by the jingle of the bell attached to the door handle, Gold knew that someone had come into the store, but believing it to be the deputy returning with more inquiries, he responded before poking his head around the curtain.

"If you're back for more, there's not much else I can tell you," Gold said as he stepped around the room divider to see that the person awaiting him in the lobby wasn't Emma Swan, awkwardly finding the face of Walsh Gibbons instead.

"More about what?" a confused and curious Walsh asked as he noted Gold's reaction.

"Mr. Gibbons. My apologies. I thought Ms. Swan was returning with some additional questions about the items she just obtained from me." Gold did his best to conceal his embarrassment over his faux pas of making the statement before confirming his audience.

"Ah, yes, she mentioned that she'd traded for some old items of her mother's."

"A few small things," Gold said, not intending to go into further detail. "So, how can I help you today, Mr. Gibbons? As you're aware, the ship carrying the items you desire isn't due into port until Monday. The captain expects to be in the harbor around noon should fair winds prevail."

"Yes, I'm aware of that delay. I'm actually here for something else, specifically some assistance with a particular potion…," Walsh informed him as he reached into the right hand pocket of his sport coat, withdrawing a folded slip of paper that he slid across the glass countertop to Gold. "Think you can put that together for me?"

The pawn shop owner picked up the paper warily, slowly unfolding it to see what was being requested of him. "I believe I have all of the ingredients for this but whatever do you need it for?"

"That is my business," Walsh replied with haughty tone. "Your business is to make it for me, right?" Gold found himself reminded of his conversation earlier that week when he'd assured Emma that his dealings with Walsh were strictly business. Clearly word had reached Gibbons who was now throwing it back at him. "How long will it take?" Walsh asked to snap Gold back to the present.

"If I have everything required, I can have it to you in about an hour. Let me take a quick gander at my storeroom."

"Please do. I'll wait."

Gold vanished behind the heavy fabric divider while Walsh waited impatiently to learn if the potion could be completed in a timely manner. The shopkeeper was out of sight for less than two minutes when he returned with his response. "I do have all of the necessary ingredients. The potion will be ready for you in an hour."

"Perfect. I guess I'll go take Emma up on her breakfast offer while I wait," Walsh grinned. "See you in an hour."

Gold stood silently behind the counter as Walsh exited his shop. He'd made many potions for Gibbons over the years they'd been doing business together, but this latest request had him puzzled. It was unusual, even for Gibbons, but business was business.

**********

Elsewhere in Storybrooke, (at least he hoped he was still in Storybrooke) Killian Jones had awakened in near total darkness. His last recollection was of walking a very tipsy Emma to the Sheriff's station then returning to the Jolly Roger - but how long ago had that been? There was no way to know if it was day or night or whether minutes or hours had passed. He vaguely recalled a choking sensation that he might have dismissed as a dream were it not for the lingering ache in his neck.

He knew he was no longer aboard his ship as there was nothing familiar to any of his senses - no gentle rocking and swaying on the bobbing waves nor any scent of marine air or teakwood. No, wherever he was, it was dank and dark. There was no light filtering in through any crack in the stone or cement walls of this chamber and there was a musty, earthy odor to his surroundings.

Where the hell was he?

Using the nearest wall both for support and to gain his bearings, Killian pushed himself upright, immediately realizing that he was missing something - his hook. He knew he'd been wearing it when he'd left Emma but now its familiar weight wasn't there. He still wore the brace that secured it yet the prosthetic implement itself had been removed.

A renewed vulnerability washed over him as he inched his way along the wall in the inky blackness yet he was determined to take stock of this prison. His hand felt for any recess or crack that might signify a possible exit as he made his way to the chamber's first corner. He continued moving to his right along the second wall discovering that it was little more than an arm-span distance between the corners. Whatever this awful hole was, it was narrow.

The third wall proved to be only slightly longer than the second which provided him a rough estimate of the room's dimensions - approximately six or seven feet wide and perhaps nine or ten feet wide. It would be about the size of a small storage room or closet - or even an actual prison cell.

But at least there was some hope. As he reached the next bend, his hand came in contact with wood. A door frame. A doorway. At least if the room had a way in, there was a chance he could find a way out, although that might prove a tad more difficult without his hook. His hand surveyed the frame and door in search of a key hole or some type of locking mechanism but he found neither. Whatever purpose this chamber served, it was secured from outside which left him with the chilling realization that it just might be a prison cell and he was its unfortunate occupant.

Questions flooded his brain as his psyche tried to make sense of his situation. Where the hell was he and how the bloody hell did he get here? He didn't remember leaving the Jolly Roger, at least not willingly. He'd sensed no one else on deck with him and a skirmish would certainly have drawn the attention of his crew.

Someone had brought him here and locked him away in this miserable, lonely pit, but who? He'd barely been in this port for a week but had he unexpectedly crossed someone unwittingly? There was so much he needed to know…

"Hello?" he shouted in the direction of the sealed door, unsure if anyone would even be listening. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Hearing nothing except the echo of his own voice and the pounding of his heart, Killian slumped against the nearest wall. He knew he needed to think this through and to conserve his energy. There was no indication of any water or provisions left here for him so either his captor planned to bring him sustenance or he was intended to slowly starve to death - the latter being an option he wasn't prepared to consider.

#cssns #captain swan supernatural summer #cs ff #cs au ff #cs ff au #witch emma #a simple spell #and that spell will come back into play in the next chapter #but for now the mystery deepens #well - for emma at least

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

what ifs; adam page [six]

Notes:

Okay, so the angst is not over but.. I bring you guys a small  break from it. And again, I swear. I fully intend to update this as soon as possible. I’m having too much fun writing this and I have way too many plans. [ part five ] if you missed it.

Summary:

Fluffy little moment in the kitchen here.. if you squint. But the angst is not over yet. Just giving you guys a small break. Adam and Ivy bake together and have a few laughs.. Maybe they can rebuild a friendship.

Pairings:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow

Warnings:

alcohol tw, angst, slow burn, mentions of exotic dancing... did I mention angst? because yeah.

Images from google. Header made by me. If you didn’t make it, don’t take it.

“What’s this I hear about you running off to West Virginia permanently? Do you not know how to pick up a phone anymore, Ivy?” Irene paced her living room and waited on her daughter to give her some kind of reason for just uprooting herself and not even bothering to say anything about it.

They’d lost touch, yes, but Irene had always just assumed that Ivy was on her side of things. She hadn’t ever said anything contrary to that.

Ivy rolled her eyes and for a split second, she heavily considered hanging up the phone.Her mother hadn’t even bothered with the formality of a hello. She didn’t even bother to ask how her former husband was. Ivy grumbled because if it weren’t already painfully clear just how self - absorbed the woman was and how little she cared about anything beyond having total control over everything, this would really have driven that point home. Instead, she took a few deep breaths and as she parked the car outside the hospital, she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

It wasn’t even 11 am and she was already completely and totally done with today.

“You do realize that Hello is also a polite way to start a conversation, right? You could also try asking how everyone is… you know, make sure we’re all okay here?” Ivy’s tone was clipped and harsh and almost immediately after she realized it, she muttered a hasty apology. Sure her mom was selfish and controlling and had no sense of anything beyond how a situation affected her. But she is still my mother and I know better, Ivy reprimanded herself mentally, taking a few long and deep breaths to try and neutralize herself before things got out of hand.

“Don’t you take that tone with me. Your father will be fine.” Irene grumbled impatiently. When Ivy sighed and muttered something about their conversations being ‘business as usual’, Irene snorted and reminded her casually, “I’m not the one who stopped calling or coming by, Ivy Jane.”

“Maybe there’s a valid reason for that, Mom.” Ivy shut the door to her car with her hip and locked it, staring intently at the hospital as she thought to herself God I hope I get good news in here, at least. I don’t think I can handle any more bad news, and she took a few steps towards the double doors leading into the lobby. Her mother hadn’t said anything yet and Ivy was getting increasingly impatient. It was kind of obvious by now that she’d called just to pick a fight.

If that is the case, Ivy thought to herself, I really wish she’d just get it over with so I can hang up on her and get inside to Dad.

“ You haven’t answered my question.” Irene stated, waiting on her daughter to answer. She just didn’t understand why Ivy had to do this, why Ivy would even want to go back there. “What if I needed you, huh?”

She thought that might at least make Ivy feel a little guilty for her hasty decision, but to her shock, Ivy gave a snort of laughter and for a few seconds, the conversation got so quiet that Irene almost thought Ivy might have hung up on her again like the last time they’d talked.

Finally, Ivy answered.

“You’ll be fine, Mom. You don’t need me, you’ve never needed anyone. As far as why I left and if it’s true? I left because Ty is a selfish asshole who doesn’t understand my family comes first. And yeah, Mom.. I’m moving here permanently.” Ivy bit her lip and grimaced. It was better this way, best to just rip that bandage off all at once. And then totally cut contact. Because she’d already let her mom have entirely too much input in her life to begin with. This was the first time she’d actively stood up to her mother and damn, it felt good.

She pushed open the doors to the lobby and stepped inside the hospital while she waited on her mother to have some kind of reaction, to start her patent method of guilt tripping her. And true to form, that’s exactly what her mother did.

“First Constance and now you. I see how it is. I get it. You love your father more.” Irene bit her lip, sighing and shaking her head sadly. Neither one of the two of them were grateful at all that she took them out, that they got to see the world. That she worked her ass off to make sure they didn’t just fall into the whole small town trap like she nearly had. Not that Dalton was ever a bad man I just… needed more, wanted more… Wanted to see the world. I never would’ve stuck around or gotten married as young as I did if I hadn’t gotten pregnant with any of the three of them, the thought came and Irene frowned at it, shaking her head.

As a mother, it made her feel horrible every time that thought surfaced, but she couldn’t help it.. She’d had her entire life planned out and then along came a cowboy who fancied himself a rancher with his big brown bedroom eyes and his smooth talk and his truck and his simple ways… She’d thought she could be happy, that in time she’d learn to love it…She’d gotten trapped before she ever realized it and now.. Now… Everything ended with a fight where two of her girls were concerned. Her second oldest seemed to be the only one of her girls who was happy, who had a good relationship with her now. It hurt like hell. Irene didn’t know how to go about fixing it. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered trying because it seemed as if everything she said or did where Constance and Ivy were concerned was all wrong.

Why keep forcing herself on the two of them if they didn’t want her as part of their lives? Despite that, Irene kept trying.

Because they were her daughters and despite what they seemed to think, she did love them.

“No, I didn’t say that. I’ve never said that. You’re not going to make me feel guilty about this. If that’s all you called to do, I need to go. I’m meeting with Dad’s nurse.” Ivy caught herself tapping her foot, rolling her eyes at the phone and almost tempted to just go ahead and skip several minutes ahead in this whole thing they’d done lately, get to the part where she got fed up and rather than say something angry and hurtful, she just took the more passive route and hung up.

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, I’m just trying to understand, Ivy. I thought you loved Ty. I thought you were happy in Florida.”

“No, Mom. You’ve got it in your head that my life is all wrong unless I’m living it your way. I never wanted your way. I hated Florida.” Ivy wasn’t even sure what made her say it or why she was so irrationally angry at her mother’s calm tone, but she was and before she could stop herself, the words were out and she felt horrible for saying them. “I’m sorry, Mom, I just…I can’t do this with you right now, okay? There are way bigger things going on right now. I don’t have time to fight with you.”

Ivy hung up and settled into a chair in the waiting room, rubbing her forehead, shaking her head and taking a few deep breaths. She’d call back later and at least apologize. She honestly hadn’t ever intended to say it out loud.

Irene wiped at her eyes, taking a few deep breaths as she sat the phone down on the kitchen counter. “Well then. Guess I just got my answer. Tried to do something to make sure they didn’t end up like I almost did and now apparently, two of my three hate me for it.”

It hurt like hell, because all she wanted was to be part of all her daughters’ lives. All of them, not just one. She had two grandchildren she was  totally missing out on being a grandmother to. And Ivy, if Ivy ever settled down and had kids… Irene’s stomach churned and she poured herself a glass of tea, taking a long sip. All she wanted was everyone to be happy. And now she was discovering that apparently, she’d been all wrong to do the things she had back then.

For the first time in a long time, she found herself wondering if maybe she hadn’t been wrong to just uproot all three of them and make them feel like they didn’t have a choice. Even suspecting it might have been the wrong decision and that every one she’d made since then hadn’t really helped any didn’t sit well with her at all.

As soon as visiting hours began, Ivy stood and made her way to her father’s room, shutting the door lightly behind her and taking a seat next to his bed, laughing when she realized that apparently, teaching him how to work a laptop had been a good idea, because he was watching Netflix, some original series called The Ranch.

“Darlin.. Everything okay?” Dalton paused the show and pushed away the rolling table with her old laptop sitting on top and fixed his gaze on her intently.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” Ivy leaned in to hug her father, squeezing just a little.

Dalton eyed his youngest daughter suspiciously and Ivy admitted, “Just arguin with Mama. Got reminded why I never bothered.” as she sighed and shook her head, quick to slap a smile on. “I heard you’re gettin out of here tomorrow.”

“Thank God. If I gotta eat one more salad, I think I’m gonna lose my damn mind.”

“I hate to tell you, daddy.. But seein as me and Connie and the kids want you around a real long time, old man, you’d better just learn to love vegetables and fruit.”

“A man is not made t’ eat that shit. We need meat.. Potatoes.” Dalton protested, grumbling when his daughter fluffed his hair and shook her head. “Christ. Startin to wish I would have just hid instead of gettin dragged here.”

“Daddy..”

“I’ve made it this damn long living life my way. No sense in changing now, darlin.” Dalton insisted.

Ivy bit her lip and laughed, shaking her head at him. “You’re going to have to at least try to make some of the changes they gave you… For us? Please?”

“Okay, alright, fine. Shit. How’s the farm? Page ain’t let that dumb fuck hand of his touch any of my tools, right?”

“No, thankfully, Adam’s been the one handling them the most.” Ivy bit her lip as she tried to will away all the images of Adam in varying states of undress making repairs out in the barn that she’d walked in on and had been burned into her brain.

“Oh? Page’s boy come home, huh? Did you hear he went off and got all famous on us? Still the same guy though. He was always one hell of a kid.”

“Yeah, he’s a good man.” Ivy didn’t bother hesitating as she said it.

“You two talk about anythin’?” Dalton made it a point to ask his daughter that question and when her jaw set and she shook her head, he reached out, fluffing her hair as he chuckled. “Ya get the stubborn side honest, darlin.”

“Hey! He does too!”  Ivy pointed it out with a soft laugh as she shook her head. After a few seconds, she shrugged. “It’s all water under the bridge now anyway. I’d settle for just being friends again.”

“And who says you can’t, huh?”

“I guess I could try?” Ivy bit her lip as she mulled it over. Her father nodded and pointed out, “Friends is better than nothing.”

“It is.”

XXX

The house was in a frenzy when Adam peeked in and he chuckled. Ivy was swearing, fanning at smoke and opening the windows and Constance was laughing about it. “I told you we could’ve just bought a cake. Nooooo… you just had to try to play Betty Crocker, today of all days.”

“I used to be better at baking. Anyway, speak for yourself Ms. I charbroiled the chicken.” Ivy poked out her tongue at her older sister as she wrinkled her nose and grabbed the cake plate, hurrying towards the trash with it.

Adam chuckled and cleared his throat as he stepped in, waving his hands, snickering harder when Constance hurried past with the burnt remnants of the chicken she’d been baking and stopped long enough to offer an apologetic smile.

“Ya’ll need any help in here, or?” Adam asked both women with Ivy blurting “Yes” and Connie insisting that they had it under control and he’d done enough. Adam eyed Ivy and he gave a teasing wink, opting to listen to her answer.

Connie looked from Adam to Ivy and muttered with a soft laugh, “I’m gonna just run into town.. Maybe buy some more chicken and some other stuff.”

“And a cake.” Ivy laughed out after her sister before turning her attention to Adam.

“You don’t have to stay…” Ivy shook her head, tensing a little as that tension between them came right back in, lingering heavily.

“It’s fine. Not like I had anywhere else to be.” Adam shrugged, taking the bowl with dry flour sitting out on the island and dumping the little bit of flour left in the bowl into the garbage. He turned around and found himself body to body with Ivy, who was apparently trying to put a bowl into the sink nearby.

Adam found himself staring down at her intently, maybe migrating a little closer. “ I really make you that nervous?” he questioned, swallowing hard when she shook her head and made no move to back away like he figured she would.

“No, you don’t.”

Adam bit his lip, clenching and unclenching his hand at his side, fighting the urge to rest it against her hip as he nodded to the destruction of the kitchen all around them. “What were ya’ll doing anyway?”

“Well, the hospital is lettin dad come home tomorrow. And the twins birthdays are coming up, so we were gonna celebrate earlier than usual, invite everybody over tomorrow but have it all ready to go.. Which, as you can see, went off the rails.”

“Not entirely.” Adam chuckled, rubbing his chin in thought.

“Have you looked around? There’s flour on the ceiling beam, Adam.”

Adam chuckled and reached out, before he could stop himself, rubbing his thumb over flour smeared across the bridge of her nose. “ I thought you used to love bakin.. You were always makin me things.”

“Guess I just haven’t done it in a while. And anyway, that was a new recipe I found!”

“Okay, look.. All the other stuff can wait ‘til tomorrow. But if you really wanna make this cake of yours.. I don’t mind helpin.” Adam’s body brushed against hers and Ivy’s breath caught in her throat. Before she could stop herself, she was nodding yes and gathering up everything they might need.

It was a good distraction. It got her moving, it kept her from doing what she longed to do most at that point in time, hugging herself against him, burying her face in his chest and just letting her earlier talk with her mother out because she’d always felt like she could tell him anything.

She just missed that so much. She missed him and yes, it was driving her crazy, the strain between them.

Adam pouted as she stepped away, busying herself with gathering up all her ingredients and starting to measure them out. Taking another one of his beer cans out of the fridge, he popped the top and took a long sip. “Why not just make that chocolate one you always used to make?”

Ivy stopped and dragged her fingers through wild waves, staring up at him and smiling as she gave a slow nod. “That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I get half, right?” Adam teased, making her give a soft laugh and she shrugged. “I mean.. I could make you a smaller one. Can you even still eat things like chocolate cake?” Ivy teased gently, stopping in front of him again as she stared up, “Being on tv and all that jazz?”

“Do I look like I care one way or the other, darlin?” Adam’s voice came out huskier and he leaned down, fingertips just barely brushing against her side. He almost wanted to smirk a little when he felt her shiver ever so slightly.

Maybe there’s still somethin’ there after all. Adam thought to himself as he cleared his throat and clapped his hands together, mostly to distract himself.

“I believe we were about to try sharin a kitchen again.”

“I believe we were.” Ivy pouted, praying he didn’t notice it as she met his gaze and plastered on a little smile. “We should… probably get this started, hm?”

“Yeah.” Adam swallowed hard as her fingertips momentarily trailed over the front of his black tee shirt… When she wiped flour onto his nose, he grumbled and poked out his tongue. “Haha. Real funny, darlin.”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist it.” Ivy giggled, trying to dart out of his reach as he tried to catch her…

#adam hangman page fanfiction #adam hangman page fanfic #adam hangman page fic #adam hangman page imagines #adam hangman page imagine #part 6 of ? #// alcohol tw #// angst #// slow burn #// exotic dancer ofc #// maaaybe a hint of happy here.

[katie-dub]

The Princess of White Chapel (6/12)

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

AO3 | Tumblr

Rated M for alcohol use, violence, minor character death, frank discussions of depression and grief

The delightful @princesse-swan made my gorgeous header and I’m so happy that you all get to see her next piece of art for this fic today too!

The indescribably awesome @distant-rose and @ultraluckycatnd were my betas.

I blame @wellhellotragic for parts of this chapter. ;)

Killian waited just long enough to see Gold’s men arrive and give him the address of his new lab. “The Gherkin? I thought that was all offices?” he asked, raising his brows. The lackey merely shrugged, as if nothing his boss did surprised him. “What Gold wants, Gold gets. Everything will be ready for you in the morning.”

Knowing he was free to go, he stalked out of the lab. He needed fresh air to clear his head, but the atmosphere remained as stale and heavy as his guilty conscience. But still if he didn't move, he would buckle under the tension he was feeling.

He walked aimlessly, anxiously noting how quiet the city streets were. The lack of other people felt ominous when usually they were teeming with life.

He quickened his step, drawn forward by the horrible fear that Emma might already be in danger. That would be just Gold’s style - to have her watched and strike when Killian wasn't looking. “I was disappointed to see that you’re drinking again.” The words filled his mind, darkened his already grim mood and he felt - or imagined - a prickle on the back of his neck, indicating that he was being watched.

He was startled by vibrations in his pocket and laughed at himself as he realised that it was merely his phone ringing. Bloody hell, he thought, you need to calm down. What would Will think if he saw you jumping with fright at your own phone?

He pulled it out, smiling to see it was Belle. Although the smile quickly turned to a wince as he remembered their last conversation, when he had cancelled on her. He hoped she was in a forgiving mood.

“Hello?”

“Hi Killian, crazy week, huh?”

He chuckled nervously. “You're telling me.”

“A few of us are going to that new place in Hackney, Aesop’s Tables, tonight for a few drinks to escape all the madness. You in?”

“Aesop's Tables? Sounds like some bloody awful hipster place with quirky drinks with dumb names like Tequila Mockingbird. Why can't we just go to The Culpeper?” He knew he was whining, but he was hot, agitated, and just not in the mood.

Belle just laughed at him. “Because we always go there. Live a little, old man. Remember, you should never judge a book by its cover.”

“Back in my day, drinks had proper names,” he muttered under his breath, only partly to play along with Belle’s joke.

“Oh really? So you've forgotten that night with all the Screaming Orgasms?”

“As if I could ever forget having a Screaming Orgasm with you, love.”

“The way Will tells it, he was the one you swore your undying love to.”

“But alas, my ungrateful cousin only has eyes for you. More’s the pity.” Belle laughed, probably to hide the blush that rose up every time he mentioned Will’s feelings. Despite the gloom he was feeling, it felt good to do something as normal as tease his friend.

“I'm not sure that's true at all,” Belle deflected and Killian smirked, unsurprised by her denial. He felt like he'd aged several centuries waiting for Will and Belle to get together. “But seriously,” she continued, “are you in?”

“Yeah that sounds…” he trailed off, remembering Emma and Lily. “I'm not sure if I can. I've got guests.”

“Guests?” Belle asked with a hint of mischief in her voice. “You mean you have other friends?”

He thought of Lily scowling at him. “I don't know if I'd call them friends.”

“Lovers?” she teased. “You don't mean to tell me that Will was right when he said you had a girl over? He'll have a field day if he hears that you've got more than one -”

“No!” he yelped, and cleared his throat, embarrassed. “No, it's nothing like that. Just some colleagues.” He had a burst of inspiration. “Their flat burnt down last night so I offered them shelter. In fact, they lost everything. I don't suppose you would mind lending them an outfit or two, just until they can buy their own?”

“Oh God, how awful! Of course, but, um, are you sure my clothes would fit them?”

Killian's face fell as he thought of Belle's petite stature. “Oh, I guess not actually.”

“I can ask Ruby?”

As far as he could remember, Belle's roommate was closer in height to the two girls - far closer than Belle at least. “If you could?”

“Sure, I'll let you know.”

He wasn't sure if going out with Emma and Lily would be a good idea, but he should at least get them some clothes. His mind filled with the image of how Emma had looked in his shirt, and, maybe nothing else, when he had left his flat earlier. He swallowed hard; she definitely wore it well -

No. Milah. He tried to picture his Milah, to let her memory fill his thoughts.

He couldn't do it.

Her image had faded, the exact sound of her voice was gone, the way she felt in his arms had disappeared. He felt desperate, searching for clearer memories, but each was as faded as the last. A copy of a copy of a copy, distorted and unclear.

This felt like the ultimate betrayal. Fancying another woman was forgivable, it didn't mean anything. Killian was sure that Milah herself would be pointing out how beautiful Emma was. But forgetting her? Maybe not who she was, or the facts and figures of their relationship. Maybe not his love for her, but everything else that made her real, made her alive? This felt like truly letting her die.

For the first time, he had confronted the hard truth that he was blindly clinging onto something that was long since gone.

It had happened so gradually that he hadn’t even noticed.

The one image he’d been able to recall clearly for the longest time was her lifeless body, he had violently rejected the horrible memory, he needed it not to be true. Fuck, he was going to change the past, so there was no need to look at that terrible sight in his mind’s eye again and again.

He’d struggled so hard against that memory that he didn’t even notice how the others had slowly faded from him, dissolving into nothing as he lost the touch of her hand, her soft sighs of happiness, the way her curls had fallen into her eyes as she leant forward.

He had to fight back the urge to give up and wait for death himself.

He hadn't even realised that he was still moving forward, stuck in his dreadful realisation as he was. So it was hardly surprising that he failed to notice the way a confused tourist struggling with a comically large map vanished into thin air just moments after he had passed them by.

 When he walked into his flat after seemingly hours lost in his dark mood, Emma was curled up on the sofa reading his copy of Neverwhere and Lily was nowhere to be found. Had it really been just days since he was meant to lead a book club discussion on the novel? And now his life was like something penned by Gaiman himself.

“Oh hi,” said Emma, smiling up at him.

The scene was painfully domestic. In another world, another life where he wasn't so damaged and she hadn't stepped out of a fairytale, this could be their life. The thought cut through the gloom that had surrounded him and pierced his heart, bringing him nothing but pain. His anguish must have been plain to see because Emma's smile quickly turned to a frown of concern.

“I hope you don't mind me borrowing this,” she said hesitantly, nodding towards the book. “Er - things got a little dull after Lily stormed out.”

“It's fine.” He tried to smile, but he couldn't shake his grim mood. It must have showed, for she placed the book down on the coffee table and uncurled her legs. As she moved, his shirt rode up, exposing a near indecent amount of skin. A bolt of desire shot through him, quickly followed by a wave of disgust. Not minutes ago, he had been despairing over Milah and now he was ogling a woman under his protection. His jaw clenched and Emma, who had been in the act of standing up, awkwardly slumped back down on the sofa, crumpling inwards. He hated that she looked that way because of him, but it was for the best. She deserved better than his worthless attention.

“So, Lily stormed off?” he asked, scratching behind his ear, feeling uncomfortable that his bad mood had filled the room with tension.

“Yeah.” Emma rolled her eyes. “She's just being Lily. She's my oldest friend but she can kind of be a -” “hot-headed monster?”

Now Killian was the one earning the eye roll.

“Yeah. I mean, things do tend to go up in smoke when Lily’s around.”

“Unfortunate side effect of incinerating everything in sight, I find.”

Emma snorted. “Well, unfortunately she tends to have that effect whatever form she's in. Used to cause so much trouble for me, back when we were…” Emma startled a little, as though she'd been about to share more of herself than she was entirely comfortable with. “When we were young. Don't worry about Lily; she'll be fine.”

“I'm not worried about Lily. It’s how everyone else will fare with a bloody dragon on the loose!”

“Oh. That.”

Killian looked at her incredulously. “Yes, that!”

“Lily is my oldest friend! I'm used to her being a dragon!” Emma replied defensively. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary to me. It's just Lily. Besides, there are a lot of dragons in my realm. They aren't all bad when you get to know them.” Sensing that she had missed the point, or perhaps reacting to the way Killian's jaw had dropped in disbelief, she quickly continued. “She knows better than to take dragon form. Honestly. She wants to get out of this realm alive.”

Her words reminded Killian of the threats Gold had made. “With a dragon about, it would be so easy for a tragic accident to occur.” He didn't want to test the man, he'd seen first hand how that ended. If Lily became a dragon again - he shuddered to think what might happen.

“You better hope so, or we'll all be in trouble,” he muttered darkly.

Emma cocked her head to the side, looking at him quizzically. He didn’t want to think about Gold’s threats. It led straight from there to everything that happened with Milah, and he would find himself lost in that same dark mood that had eased ever so slightly since he’d been talking to Emma.

He took a deep breath and dodged her questions before she could give voice to them. “Would you like to join me and my friends for drinks tonight?”

A look of mild alarm crossed Emma’s face, and she looked down at the shirt she was wearing. “I - um - well, I only have this - my clothes are kind of -”

“Incinerated?” Emma nodded ruefully. “Relax, I’ve asked my friend Belle to bring over some clothes for you to borrow. They may not be a perfect fit, but they’ll be better than my shirt.”

Relief radiated from Emma and she looked touched. “That’s so kind of you - and of her. I don’t know how to thank you.”

Killian felt uncomfortable at once; his hand crept up to scratch behind his ear without his being consciously aware of it. “Oh, don’t mention it. Belle’s great like that, you’ll see. She’ll be coming out for drinks. And here too, of course,” he continued, gesturing to the flat with his hands, “when she brings the clothes over. So there’ll be her and Will. Will’s an idiot but he’s family. You can ignore most of what he says - unless he compliments me, in which case, it’s all true. I don’t know who else will be there, but there will be alcohol - most likely overpriced, but that happens -”

“Killian,” Emma said firmly, standing up and taking him by the hands, effectively stopping his rambling.

“Hmm?” he said absently, looking down at the casual way she held his prosthetic, as though it were a flesh and blood hand. He wasn’t used to this; most people tended to either trip over themselves to avoid noticing his disability or shamelessly gawked at it. He realised that Emma wasn’t speaking yet and looked up at her.

“I’d love to get a drink with you and your friends.” She smiled warmly and he couldn’t help but return it.

“Great.” He stepped back from her, dropping his hands to his sides. He consciously resisted the urge to scratch his ear yet again, lest she think he had fleas or some kind of skin complaint. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told them you were a colleague of mine.”

“Oh?”

“Well I couldn’t exactly tell the truth, could I? I work at King’s College London in the Theoretical Particle Physics and Cosmology research group. Just say you’re interested in cosmological inflation and particle astrophysics.”

Emma’s eyes widened with alarm. “What?”

“Cosmological inflation and particle astrophysics,” he repeated with a laugh. “Don’t worry, the guys all get that same look in your eyes as you have when I discuss my work. They won’t ask questions, I promise.”

“Right. I guess I can manage that.”

“Oh, and your flat burnt down.”

“Unlucky me.”

“I had to explain why you needed clothes.”

“Of course.”

“And well, it is true that your clothes got roasted.”

“True.”

“And that’s why you’re staying with me.”

“You couldn’t have them thinking you had a new girlfriend. Your wife probably wouldn’t like that.”

Killian was bewildered by this. “My - my wife?”

“Yes.” Emma looked confused and looked down at his prosthetic. “You wear a ring. Where is she?” She looked horror struck as if a terrible thought had occurred to her. “She doesn’t mind my staying here, does she?”

Emma’s question was a knife to his heart. “She’s gone,” he whispered, dropping his eyes and turning away from her stricken and sympathetic gaze.

They were settled in the fancy restaurant when Milah caught Killian completely by surprise. She leaned across the table and took him by the hands.

“Killian, you know how much I love you, don’t you?”

“Aye, love,” he beamed, barely able to contain how happy hearing those words made him, even after three years together.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d still be with that… that beast -” Milah faltered and Killian squeezed her hands reassuringly.

“Hey, hey, you’re away from him now. You’ve got me and I’ll never let him hurt you again.”

“You really mean that, don’t you, Killian?” Her eyes were glistening and full of wonder as she gazed at him.

“Of course I do. Milah, you’re my everything and you deserve every good thing in life.  There is nothing that I wouldn’t do to protect you and I will fight for you until my dying breath.”

“I still can’t believe that you knocked out my husband’s crony in the bar that night,” she reminisced with a chuckle.

“Hey!” he shot back, full of mock indignation. “Are you saying that you don’t find me as fearsome as they come?”

“Well, let’s just say astrophysicists aren’t exactly known for their fighting skills. You are just the exception that proves the rule.”

Killian puffed up his chest, allowing himself a momentary swagger, before softening at Milah’s smiles. “What’s brought about this trip down memory lane, my love?”

“I served Gold with divorce papers.”

Killian’s eyes widened in shock. Milah was blushing ever so slightly and there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“Milah, I’m delighted to hear it. But, is that really wise?”

“Well, you see, I kind of had to. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” Milah pulled her hands out of Killian’s and pushed back from the table, instantly dropping to one knee beside it. “Killian Jones, my knight in shining armour, my partner in crime,” her voice softened, “my love. Will you marry me?”

Killian’s mouth dropped open in shock before he came to his senses and laughed with joy. He shook his head slightly before dropping down onto one knee beside her.

“Milah, you wonderful woman! You stole my line!” He pulled the ring out of his pocket and presented it to her. He hadn’t really expected that they would be able to actually get married, but he wanted her to know that he would marry her if he could. He wanted her to wear a token of his love for her - of his promise to her; that he would love her always. He knew his ring was no match to anything her ex could have bought, and yet she looked at it like it was the most precious ring she had ever seen. “Of course I’ll marry you, my Milah. Now, will you wear my ring?”

“Yes! Of course I will.” She paused and her eyes twinkled with delight. “As long as you wear mine.” She produced a ring from her own pocket. It was a simple band, much like a wedding ring, but Killian was delighted that Milah already wanted him to show that he was hers to the world.

They took turns sliding the rings onto each other’s fingers and then kissed passionately, not caring who might be watching, just caught up in their love. He was dimly aware of the sound of applause around them and a champagne cork popping, but he paid it no mind.

Killian squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. He may have finally begun to accept that Milah was gone, but that didn’t mean her ghost wouldn’t continue to haunt him.

He fiddled with the ring Milah gave him that night. He'd never expected that he'd really get to marry her, and he was right. For the night that Milah had proposed had been her last, the best and worst night of his life. It took a conscious effort to keep himself from reliving the trauma. Maybe he should've explained to Emma that her assumption was wrong, but it was unimportant. After all, he had been married to her memory all this time, and what had it brought him? Nothing but wasted years and endless torment.

But who was he without his grief? It had become a vital part of him, his constant companion; driving him ever onward in his mission, demanding revenge for Milah. He didn't know how to exist without it. He wondered if Milah would even recognise him as the man she loved if they were to meet again.

He felt a light touch on his left shoulder. He looked up to see Emma awkwardly patting him. She gave him a half smile. “I'm sorry. That’s, that's really awful.”

He thought back to the way he had instantly put on his mask when Belle had called. Killian Jones, who was wedded to his work since he tragically lost his love. No. That wasn't fair to his friend. He could be happy with her. It wasn't an act, but his grief was always bubbling below the surface and no one had ever seen it.

Until now.

Here was this stranger, this odd, undignified princess from another realm, and she saw right through him. Perhaps she wasn't the best at giving comfort, but she could see that it was needed. It made him wonder what had happened to her that she could so easily see the pain that he normally kept buried deep inside. She made him want to open up, knowing that she would offer solace that he would gratefully accept.

They stared at each other for a moment that lasted a lifetime. So much was said in so few words. They recognised each other and their shared pain. It was intense.

He swallowed hard, unsure how to feel. He placed his hand over hers and gave a quick squeeze before dropping his hand. He hoped that it was enough to convey his sincere gratitude. Somehow, he knew it was. “Yeah. It really is.”

His words broke the spell around them. She stepped away from him, clearing her throat. Neither one would mention it, silently agreeing that it wasn't the time.

***

They were watching the TV in comfortable silence when Killian's doorbell rang. He got up and buzzed Belle into the building, unlocking and opening his door, then leaning against the frame to await his friend.

When Belle had called to say that Ruby was more than happy to lend some clothes, Killian had smoothly lied saying that Lily had decided to stay with family instead, finding his one bedroom flat too cramped for three people. He could tell that Belle was instantly intrigued by this, politely but pointedly inquiring after Emma's own family. “None to speak of,” he'd said. “She’s a fellow orphan.”

He knew that this almost certainly was not true, for orphaned princesses usually became queens, but it felt true. She had a look in her eyes that he recognised, the one that said love had been all too rare in her life. Besides, if it avoided any uncomfortable questions, it was a lie worth telling.

But he could tell that Belle’s curiosity had not been sated, so he could not help but feel some trepidation over how this meeting - indeed, his whole evening - would go.

She appeared minutes later with Ruby in tow. He raised his brows at Belle as he moved forward to hug her and she grimaced apologetically. “Sorry,” she whispered in his ear as they embraced.

“So where is she? Your colleague that has you offering up my wardrobe?” Ruby asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before leaning in to give him a quick hug.

He pointedly ignored her salacious implications. “Lovely to see you too, Ruby. How’s your grandma?”

“She sends her love and told me to pinch your ass. I hope you don't mind if I leave that to this colleague of yours? I wouldn't want her to get jealous,” she said with a wink.

“If Emma wants you to pinch her ass, you shouldn't let me stop you. In fact, I would actively encourage it. Don't be afraid to, you know, really get into it.”

Ruby laughed while Belle rolled her eyes.

“Are we going to stand in the doorway all day, or do we get to meet Emma?” Belle asked.

“Come in, fair maidens, and welcome to my humble abode.” Killian held the door open, gesturing inside. Ruby hurried forward eagerly, while Belle shook her head at Killian's ostentatious antics and followed her inside.

When he entered the living room, Ruby had her arms around Emma who was not returning the hug, but instead was awkwardly tugging down the hem of his shirt.

He almost laughed at the silent plea for help Emma was sending him over Ruby's shoulder. But, instead he swooped in to her aid.

“Come on now, Ruby. I was only joking when I suggested that Emma might enjoy being groped by you.” Emma's eyes filled with alarm. “Take your hands off her and let me introduce you properly.”

Ruby stepped back and punched him on the shoulder - ever so slightly too hard to be entirely good natured. He thought he heard her mutter “dick” under her breath, but when he looked at her, she was smiling widely, the picture of innocence.

“So Emma, you've met Ruby Lucas, who's been kind enough to bring some clothes over for you. This is Belle French, who is one of my dearest friends.” He gestured to each lady in turn as he spoke. “Ladies, this is Emma Swan. She’s part of my research group at King's College.”

“Please don't talk about your research,” Ruby said not unkindly, “I already feel dumb sometimes living with Belle - and particle physics makes her head spin.”

“I promise I won't,” Emma replied with a smile, with only Killian realising how relieved she was by Ruby's request.

“I've got a whole bunch of outfits for you to try, Emma. Killian, can we use your room to get dressed?” Ruby was already ushering Emma towards his room before he had answered.

“Sure thing, Ruby,” he called, as she closed his door behind her.

With Ruby and Emma in the other room, Belle took the opportunity to pounce on Killian with rapid fire questions. “OK, talk fast. Why is Emma wearing your shirt? Where is she sleeping? What's really going on here?”

“Her only clothes are in the wash. My bed, I'm on the couch. Nothing, Belle, I swear. Can't a man be friends with a woman without any funny business involved?”

Belle narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm not buying it, Jones. You fancy her.”

“A gentleman never tells.” He was aiming for mysterious, hoping she would drop the subject without him having to be rude, but Belle let out a little gasp and looked delighted.

“You do! This is wonderful!”

“It's really not like that.”

“Why not?” She was frowning at him and he saw the moment that realisation hit. Her eyes widened and filled with something that looked far too close to pity for his liking. She dropped her voice into a soft, soothing tone. “If this is about Milah, you don't have to worry. You've mourned her long enough.” He was right, she was pitying him. His mouth hardened into a thin line, struggling to conceal his anger. He had never liked the way his friends pushed him towards women when he was still intent on rescuing Milah. He wasn't sure he liked it any better now that he knew that he couldn't. “I know you must feel angry at yourself, like feeling this way is a betrayal, but she would want you to be happy.”

Milah doesn't want anything! he wanted to yell at her. She can't because that bloody bastard Gold killed her, and I let him.

Because that was his real betrayal, his failure to save her life. And it was a mistake that he could never undo. She could never forgive him and he would never forget it.

He took a deep breath and tried to push back his rage. Belle didn't know how he was feeling and she could never have guessed how doomed a relationship between him and Emma really was. “I know you mean well, but drop it. It’s not going to happen.”

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but Ruby burst into the room.

“Presenting the gorgeous Emma Swan!”

Emma stumbled after her and gave a little wave. “I told her not to do that,” she mumbled.

Some part of Killian's brain wondered, yet again, about how not regal she was. A princess who is uncomfortable with being announced into a room? What happened to her? But that part was drowned out by the rest, which was stuck on admiring Emma in modern clothes.

She was wearing a simple silk blouse in Ruby's trademark vibrant red. The cut flattered her figure, highlighting her curves without clinging. The front of the shirt was tucked into a pair of skinny black jeans that emphasised her long legs. She had on a pair of black ankle boots - in an unusually low heel for Ruby, which was probably a blessing for the ungainly Swan. She looked incredible, and he found himself momentarily speechless.

He shook his head, as if trying to shake some sense into himself. “Swan, you look stunning.”

“Yeah you do!” encouraged Ruby.

She blushed. “Um, thanks.”

“Platonic my ass,” Belle whispered in his ear.

He tried not to blush himself. “Right, well, shall I get dressed and then we can go and enjoy some overpriced ant and grasshopper cocktails?”

***

This was fun. He was having fun. It was as amazing as it was unexpected.

Once her initial prickly phase had eased a little, Emma got along incredibly well with his friends. Ruby took an instant liking to her, as did Belle. She immediately put Will in his place, which earned her a laugh from him, not to mention Regina's respect - which was usually hard to come by. She talked animatedly with Robin about archery, although there had been an awkward moment when she clearly didn't understand what he meant by calling himself an Olympian. (“Gold medalist, darling,” Regina said proudly, while he grinned.) Killian hoped he had successfully covered for her by proclaiming “come on Swan, you'll give us scientists a bad name! We're not so nerdy that we don't know what the worldwide sporting competition the Olympics is!” “Oh Olympian,” she played along, “I didn't hear you before.”

Emma was a hit. The cocktails, while undoubtedly overpriced, were modestly so by London standards and were absolutely delicious. Killian felt truly happy for the first time in a decade.

All was going well until he looked around and noticed how empty the bar was.

“Shame that no one's here. Guess that means this place won't last long.”

“Where have you been, mate?” asked Will. “People have been vanishing all over. It's got people scared that they'll be next.”

“Next for what? The dragon's been vanquished… Hasn't it?”

“It hasn't been seen since Trafalgar Square, but no one knows what happened there. And it's not just dragons - all sorts of strange things have been appearing.”

Killian thought of the incident with the fairies earlier that day. Bloody hell.

“What kind of things?” asked Emma.

“All sorts. The zebras at the zoo all turned to hippogriffs that kind of thing.” Emma and Killian shared a dark look at Will’s reply. “Haven't you seen the video? It's brilliant. Here, let me find it.” Will pulled out his phone and fiddled about before handing it to Emma.

She snorted with laughter and held it up so that Killian could see a picture of himself with awful 90’s-style blonde frosted tips. He growled and dived towards the phone but alcohol had slowed his reactions ever so slightly and Will was able to quickly snatch it out of Emma’s hand before he could reach it.

“Oh sorry mate, don’t know how that picture ended up on the screen.”

He sat back in his seat, and scowled at Will. “I’m disowning you - in fact, you’re dead to me now.”

Will just blew him a kiss. “You know you love me.”

Killian shook his head, watching Will closely and held out his hand for the phone pointedly when he looked up. Will passed it over with an exaggerated sigh. “So untrusting Killian, you want to work on that.”

Killian merely raised his eyebrows in reply and looked down. When he saw that there really was a video on the screen he tilted it towards Emma. She leaned in close and Killian, slightly tipsy after several Catcher in the Whisky and Ryes, felt his heart rate pick up slightly. He was so distracted by the pleasant tingle of her breath against his cheek that it took him a moment to remember that he was meant to press play.

The video started off normally - zebras in their enclosure, generally standing around. But then, with no warning, they were hippogriffs. Strange creatures with the body of a horse and the head and wings of an eagle. He played it again and again, looking for some clue as to what had happened; for why this strange incident had occurred, but none came.

He looked at Emma, wanting her opinion on it. She was chewing her lip with worry. It was strangely adorable. She seemed to sense his gaze and looked over to him. He'd meant to ask her what she thought of the video, but was struck by how close she was. All he had to do was lean in slightly and their lips would touch. She must have noticed the same, for the air seemed to buzz with delicious anticipation, and her eyes flicked down to his mouth.

“It's fucking mental, isn't it?” Will interrupted, grabbing back his phone. The pair startled and shuffled away from each other, the moment lost. “But look at this!” He showed them a tweet with a frantic looking London Zoo employee reading a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. “Let's hope JK Rowling really knew her stuff, hey?”

Killian laughed, albeit nervously, while Emma looked confused.

“What about the people?” she asked anxiously, reaching out for Killian's hand for comfort. It felt so natural to take her hand and lace their fingers together that he didn't even notice he was doing it.

“Oh yeah,” jumped in Ruby. “There’s loads of stories on twitter of people who have gone missing. That singer I love, Rapunzel? She's gone. It's madness.”

At that point, Belle distracted him by mouthing “platonic?” at him and looking down to their joined hands with an arched brow. He just shrugged, just drunk enough to not care what she thought. Especially when Emma’s hand felt so right in his.

The intrusion of the fairytale world was the only dark cloud on their happy night. The easy affection that had sprung up between him and Emma continued all night. There were flirty touches, salacious glances, and innuendos from Killian that would've made anyone else roll their eyes, but Emma grinned and gave back as good as she got. It felt good to just relax and flirt for once.

Even the oppressive heat wave was less overwhelming in the early hours of the morning, and the air felt fresher when they finally staggered out into the night.

They made it home, stumbling a little - or, in Emma's case, a lot. (Not that Killian minded when it meant that she allowed him to wrap his arm around her waist “for support”.) She made Killian giggle like an overgrown school girl when she started chatting to the tiny dragon statue on the High Street. He gently pulled her away from it as she asked, “your cousin's here too you know? How did you get to this realm?” She called out a “goodbye” over her shoulder and solemnly insisted that she knew him, “we go way back!”

They managed to make themselves each a cup of tea before collapsing close together on the sofa.

“Thank you for tonight. It was nice to feel normal again.”

“Again?” Killian couldn't help but ask, longing to understand the enigma that was Emma Swan.

It was the wrong thing to say, and he felt the change in her instantly. Her smile dropped just a touch and she shrank away from him almost imperceptibly, although it felt to him like a great chasm had opened between them.

He wanted to get back on even footing, so he adopted the flirty tone he'd used throughout the night. “Perhaps a little gratitude is in order?” He punctuated the question with a cheeky tap on his lips. He ran his tongue along his teeth suggestively, but scratched behind his ear, suddenly nervous of how much he wanted her to kiss him.

“Please. You couldn't handle it,” Emma deferred, although she leaned in closer, eyes darting down to follow the movement of his tongue.

“Oh I assure you, I can handle it.” His tongue clicked as he stressed the T. He had to consciously stop himself from moving further into her personal space, to let her decide how this latest round of flirtation would end.

She stared at him, and he barely had time to register the fact that she had decided to give into their attraction before she grabbed him and kissed him.

The kiss was fierce and passionate and everything he could have hoped for. His heart beat faster as he wrapped his prosthetic about her waist and pulled gently, desperately wanting her closer to him. She followed his lead willingly, climbing into his lap and letting him hold her close to him. He tangled the fingers of his other hand into her hair, encouraging her to give him more and she obliged, kissing him until he was lost for breath, lost for words, and he'd entirely lost his senses.

He had no idea how long they'd been kissing - seconds or minutes or an entire lifetime - when she pulled herself away with an obvious effort. She hadn't even let go of him, forehead still leaning against his. He could feel her ragged breaths against his lips.

“That was -” he breathed, eyes still closed. He didn't know how to finish. Hot? Definitely, but that hardly felt like a good enough word to express what it meant. Confusing and possibly even a mistake? Certainly, she had a kingdom and responsibilities to return to in another world. Life-changing and eye-opening? Oh, absolutely.

From the second her lips touched his, he knew what he'd only suspected before: for the first time in far too long, he'd met someone who could help him move on from Milah. And any relationship between them was impossible; doomed from the start.

He sure knew how to pick them.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed, but to what? All of the above? He opened his eyes and looked at her struggling to move away from him. Perhaps he wasn't the only one overcome by the kiss.

“I should,” she paused, and pushed back from him. The movement must have made it clear to her just how much he wanted her, for she groaned and he bit his lip to keep from doing the same. Her eyes flew open and he could see the fear in them. She climbed off his lap, looking guilty. “I should go to bed. Busy night. I'm tired,” she blurted out, then fled to the safety of his room, slamming the door behind her.

He made no move to stop her. She needed to go, and honestly, he didn't know what he could say. How could he persuade her to give this a chance when he knew it couldn't last?

And yet when he lay back on the sofa, heart pounding, breathing heavily and still very much ready and wanting, he couldn't help but wish he'd tried. That kiss had opened up his heart to her and despite all the reasons not to chase her, he had very much wanted to.

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #ouat ff #katie dub writes #tpowc

[kris10inger]

Indebted: Til Death Do Us Part Teaser

“Blackwater Sheriff Henry Olgove reveals to NDC27 affiliate of CGFA-TV, the body found Sunday night in East Blackwater, approximately five miles from the notorious motorcycle club hangout, is believed to be that of missing teen, Amber Tonwlyn-Havers, daughter of Congressman Alexander Tonwlyn-Havers. Amber was last seen Saturday by witnesses, around 2:00 AM, leaving a house party in downtown City Central, alone. She was thought to have gone to a party in the neighboring city of Treville.

“Congressman Havers has not been available for comment, though his publicist asks that the family’s privacy be respected in their time of mourning. In other news, tensions rise in Blackwater as one of the founders of the Black Lives Matter organization plans a protest of the death of African American teen, Anthony Smiddle. The standoff between the KKK and Black Lives Matter protesters has police stretched thin.”

                                                                                                            Teal turned off the television, then placed the remote control down. Leaning back, she closed her eyes and took in a few deep, calming breaths. There were things friends and family admitted to you about becoming a mother. There were the things you wanted to hear, the things you enjoyed hearing and then there was the truth. It was a rare thing for a parent to speak of the debilitating fear and uncertainty that came with becoming a parent. The indecision and then the apprehension in every decision made, small or large.

While Trent’s upbringing made Teal cringe, she also knew that her own past hadn’t been much better. Yes, Teal had grown up in a seemingly good home, and her family’s money had afforded her a great education and kept her fed and somewhat content, there was more to growing up in a good home than money and a full stomach. Irrational as it may seem, Teal wanted to shelter Emma, but would she truly need it? Would she need an overbearing mother? Hell, would Teal become her mother?

What the fuck was going on in the world today? Things were recently changed in Teal’s life, with a husband and a child to care for, and her ever-growing fear of raising Emma in a world full of dangers she couldn’t possibly protect her from was starting to weigh on her. Was this what motherhood would continually be like? Undying love and fierce protection, followed by the crippling fear of threats of the unknown?

Placing a hand over her stomach, Teal sighed. Trent mentioned wanting another child, while her inner voice told her now was not the time. Hell, she’d just be honest and admit she wasn’t sure she wanted another child—ever. She tilted her head to the side and watched as Emma shifted on Trent’s chest. Teal often found herself counting ten little pink fingers and toes, kissing cherub soft baby cheeks and caressing her daughter’s blonde curls.

Her daughter was the exact opposite of her physically, but Teal never once worried about their differences. She sensed Emma’s trust and love in her and Teal was dead set on never letting her down. As Teal slightly moved and stretched her stiff legs on Trent’s lap she shifted her husband and daughter just a bit.

            Trent’s eyes popped open, his hand tightening over Emma’s back. “What’s going on?” His groggy voice woke Emma from her sleep. She released a sleepy coo that melted Teal’s heart.

            Teal moved her legs from Trent’s lap, leaned forward and gently pulled Emma from Trent’s arms. “I thought you were just resting your eyes?” she admonished softly, giving him a sweet smile. Teal softly patted Emma’s butt, helping to calm her back to sleep. The sweet baby lay her head on Teal’s chest and began to snore once again.

            Trent stretched his arm over his head and yawned. “I was, baby.” He sat up and glanced over to her. Teal noticed how he still favored his right arm for most things. While his physical therapy had ended, Trent still had trouble controlling his arm and certain movements.

            “Oh, okay. I guess your snoring was just to trick Emma to sleep?”

Trent sat up and placed a hand on sleeping Emma’s back. His large hand made the little girl seem even tinier by comparison. Born a preemie, Emma had constantly fought to maintain a normal weight, and now at nine months and fourteen pounds, she was just barely fitting into the six to nine-month clothes gifted to her from Teal and Trent’s friends.

Teal placed a kiss over Emma’s curling blonde tresses, and caressed Trent’s hand. Her life in Kentucky had proven easy-going at first, but recently, she’d felt restless and anxious. The South proved to be just as tense as she’d expected, with the Black Lives Matter and KKK acting out for various reasons. Teal wasn’t sure she felt safe, and this was after she’d just stopped waking up from nightmares where Jake had made good on his threat to rape her.

            Trent leaned in and kissed Teal’s cheek. “And my plan worked.” He pulled his hand away and stood. “Want me to take her to bed?”

            Teal squeezed Emma once again, as she didn’t want to let the warm bundle of baby go. “Sure, make sure all those stuffed animals are out of the crib before you place her in there.” She handed Emma to Trent and went into the kitchen to pull a bottle of water from the fridge.

It was a Friday night, and once again, Trent had fallen asleep on the couch while Emma napped in his lap, and Teal had flipped through the channels, hoping to find something to keep her mind off their issues with Harper and Markus.

Teal had learned that it was best to talk to Trent about stressful things at certain times, like directly after she’d sucked every bit of come out of his quivering body; however, after a long stressful day, now was not that time. Teal treaded to her office and retrieved her laptop from the dresser.

Back in the living room, she sat down and opened her emails to see a few from Jan Erik, past co-workers, and Summer. The header in the email from Summer caught her attention. Teal’s brow furrowed in confusion as she read aloud, “Help wanted.” Clicking the email, Teal read its contents. As she did, her heart flittered in her chest and her excitement grew. In her eagerness, Teal let out a light squeal. “A job opening?”

            “Hey, where are Emma’s fluffy blue socks?” Trent broke Teal’s concentration.

She glanced up to see Trent with a handful of tiny socks in his palm, and a flustered expression on his face. Pointing to the bedroom, she said, “They are in the—”

            “What were you just saying? Something about a job opening?” he interrupted her as he motioned to her laptop. “What job opening and where? More importantly, for who?”

Teal gauged his reaction carefully. While she had hoped the night would end without any heavy discussions, the second Trent dropped the socks on the couch and sat beside her, she knew there would be no putting it off.

            Teal turned the laptop to face Trent. “I’m not sure yet. I just received the email from Summer.”

            Trent pulled the laptop from her hands and placed it on his lap. “The chick that tried to help Shayla?” he asked, skimming over the email. “Why is she offering you a job at something called Safe Haven?” He gripped the laptop, his flustered expression changing into one Teal had become very familiar with. His veiled anger didn’t intimidate her though, it irritated her.

            Teal rolled her eyes at the question. “How the hell am I supposed to know? You are the one reading the email.”

She and Trent had agreed she would spend the first year at home with Emma. And at the time, when everything was new, and Trent was home with her, recovering, she’d meant it. However, now, it was a completely different story. Teal felt cut off from the world, and it seemed her job had gone from an administrative assistant with a degree, to Emma’s mom. Not that Teal minded being a mother—in her mind, she thought she’d done well. It was that Teal never expected to have her identity stolen from her.

Perhaps, if Teal had had three toddlers running around the house, she wouldn’t feel the same, but one infant who barely made a peep? She found herself sitting on the back porch with more time on her hands than she’d expected. And to top it off, Teal’s friends were all in Vermont, and were career-oriented women who despite being married, and settled, hadn't had children yet. Then there was Katie, who was on her third book tour and in talks with her agent about film rights to her novel.

Teal had never felt so alone, yet surrounded by a loving family. To make matters worse, even though they’d won the civil suit against Jake, lawyers had stated it would take time to actually get the money he owed—if they ever got a cent. So, Trent still worked massive amounts of overtime to add back some of the money to his savings that the medical and lawyer bills had created.

Teal hoped once the money from Jake came in, Trent would stop working himself to death. But that wasn’t all. Katie and Logan were miles away, with a growing business and baby girls, and Violet, her new local friend, was now the CEO of a company, so gone were the days in which she came over for hours on end. Like a fool, Teal had fancied herself a true Southern Belle, sipping mint juleps, and gossiping while watching Emma play.

Months after opening up his heart – and his past – Trent is looking forward to a future with his new bride and daughter. He’s recovered from the near-fatal shooting, hopes to purchase a farm for his beloved Teal, and is building a life free from the horrors of his past.

But the past has a bad habit of never staying buried, and now it’s coming after his entire family. Because Trent didn’t reveal all his secrets to Teal, and the deepest, darkest secret he’d always kept just out of reach is about to break the surface.

An old debt is being called in, one that will pull Trent back into the world of sex, lies, and murder he’s fought so hard to escape. And in the wake of devastating betrayals, he’ll discover who is truly loyal to him, as he agrees to pay that debt with an unforgivable crime.

SEPTEMBER 28th, 2017

Trent will stop at nothing to keep Teal and his daughter safe. Even if that means losing them forever.

Meet Ace, Gator, and Mutt from the First Sons of the Revolution MC, and enjoy the first chapter and first look at the spin-off featuring the badass, no-shit-taking men from Blackwater Rising!

#romance #interracial romance #indebted #excerpt

[snsmissionaries]

2/6/19 -- Sister Nicole Ritman, Spain, Madrid Mission

The Story of Sany/I'm Officially a Cultured Citizen

Subject Line: This email will have two parts! The first is the story of our amiga Sany, who got baptized last Sunday, shared with permission. The second is just about my week.

 The Story of Sany

 Right about when I got to Málaga, we got a text from one of the members saying she had a friend we could go visit. She'd been going through some rough times, and so a few weeks back their other friend gave her a Libro de Mormón and just said "Sany, you mean a lot to me and I know you are going through a hard time. I'm giving this to you because this is what brings me comfort when I'm not feeling good and so I wanted to share it with you because you know I'd do anything to make you feel better and this is something that's important to me. You don't have to read it if you don't want, but I know it can help you." Sany started reading and once she told them she liked it, they invited us to teach her more. I don't know if you all remember, but like a month back I said that we had a first lesson with someone and I'd never seen someone change so much in just one lesson? Well that was Sany! Everytime we taught her, she was so committed to really studying and learning. She applied what she was learning to what she already knew and what she found the guide to the scriptures even though we hadn't showed her yet and looked it up there. She did the 21 day challenge of the Libro de Mormón diligently and really followed the commitments we extended. I don't think we ever had to extend a commitment twice and some she was already doing before we could extend (like starting on Ven Seguime as soon as she finished the 21 day desafío). 

A miracle that happened with Sany was that she lives here and has two daughters living in the Dominican Republic. Well one day Sany told us "I just found out that the church my daughter goes to is the same one! I didn't remember the name but she told me she told me three years back when her boyfriend introduced her to the church and got baptized. She's going on a mission in a few months and is getting ready to go to the temple." Well we were speechless. I'm not making it sound as surprising as it was, but seriously the member we had in the cita and both if us were like" what??!". It's so crazy how they found the church independent of another and gained their own testimonies and now are working to go to the temple together. I wish the missionaries that baptized her daughter would know this extension of the story! 

What I was most impressed with was that most people who work as internas (live-in caretakers for a senior) don't come to church because they work. Well Sany took her work to church. (I'm sure not everyone could but this was her solution). She would get up super early to get both the Señora and herself ready and would carry the wheelchair down the flights of stairs and push her all the way up the giant hill. We'd help her and the Señora loved going out for a stroll, yelling "venga, vamos, rápido! Rápido!" No quiero llegar tarde!" until I was practically running. Going down the hill is almost harder because you have to pull it from not speeding down into traffic. Good times jaja. The day of the baptism, she got permission to get off a few hours earlier to go to church and drop off the Señora. She was so excited! But then this Sunday she got super sick. :/ Good thing we had the baptism last week. 

 I'm Officially a Cultured Citizen 

 So I'll start this part of with a sad story. Three days after the baptism, we got a text saying the man who had baptized Sany had passed away. We hardly believed it, but we asked the Elders and the pres de Sociedad de Socorro and the Elders confirmed the text was talking about him. 

We actually were on our way to a cita with Sany so we gave her the sad news and she was so sad because she was so grateful to him for being a part of her step on the convenant path. We had a good discussion about life and death and the plan of salvation and I was feeling pretty reflective and pensive. 

Then, we leave the cita and see that the pres texted us. And guess what--it's turns out that he's not actually dead! He's not dead its his brother in law! Still sad for his family, but man alive we were so embarrassed. What a big fat fail. Probably the biggest one I'll ever have on the mission. I reread the original text and totally not our fault--it was written in a way that didn't clarify who they were talking about. But literally it was so crazy because lemme tell you it's a weird feeling to find out someone passed but it's a weirder feeling to find out that PSYCH they haven't. Like a TV show in real life except the jokes on you because you have to text the mission office and say "nevermind- we don't actually have to know what happens when we need a signature on the baptismal record of someone who's dead." I'm sure they think we're crazy jaja. And then when we texted Sany all she said was "ahhhh- vale." Luckily she hadn't brought it up since. I'm also glad we found out before Sunday when he would've walked into church alive and all three of us faint of shock. 

 So I chose the header because I felt like it has been a very *cultural* week! Yesterday, we went over for almuerzo with a Tibetan Man and his Moroccan wife and had cous-cous. Literally one of the best things that's ever entered my mouth! Basically you boil a bunch of tasty vegetables and pumpkin and halal beef and spices like cinnamon in a pot for an hour, and then pour it over a giant thing of cous-cous (tiny ball-shaped grain) and pour the broth, gravy all over. We were so close to finishing but we had a slice of pumpkin and some cabbage left. They gave us plates to help us eat the meat, but they wouldn't let us portion it out. We all used our spoons and ate from the same giant platter. They also wouldn't let us drink cold water until after the hot food because I guess mixing cold and hot is bad for your stomach. I suppose that's why they traditionally drink tea at meals, but since we politely refused the tea 50 times no lie (the wife didn't understand until I said it wasn't halal for us jaja and even after the husband would sip his tea and say "oh how delicious! Oh how healthy! Made with 5 herbs!" and made us smell it because we wouldn't sip it lol), we had mint infusion, which is just a fresh mint sprig with hot water poured on top and a little spoon of sugar. It was so good we bought fresh mint today to make it again! Maybe it won't be the same because we don't have the fancy Arab teapot they used to heat the water jk. Definitely an eating cita I'll never forget. 

 Then for Pday today I felt extra cultural because we went to the interactive music museum and saw instruments from all over the world! We stayed in the room with the piano, guitars and cello the longest and all played songs together. (OK in reality I tinkered a tune  while Hermana Zito played the cello. It's her major at BYU and it was worth my museum entry fee to hear her play lol We would all request songs and if she had the tune in her head she could just play it). I also loved the rooms where you jam out to crazy world instruments like the zither, the nose flute, double-guitars and even an ancient harp thing made from a human skull. (you pressed buttons to hear sounds of the instruments you weren't allowed to play). There was also a gladd floor with a medieval wall they uncovered and put a museum time capsule for 2033. I'll be back when they open that! 

 After we went to an Italian restaurant because H Mecca said it looked close to authentic. She ordered in Italian and chatted with the waiter and told us what to order. I felt a little less fake with her lol. We got gnocchi and margherita pizza and the other Hermanas got pasta carbonara which I tried and was probably the best. She gave it a 9/10 for authenticity so I figured that's as close as I'll get until I go visit her in Italy. 

 Then as we were walking back some guy stopped me (somehow he didn't notice the other Hermanas-just me) and in English (was Spanish but was determined to use only English) said "are you from the Mormon church? I love that church! I studied with the boys in Granada. I want to learn again." Hope he's cool and not creepy so I'll keep you updated if he ends up being cool! 

 Also something special about today is a finally debuted my pants! Hermana Mecca did too. Some pics mine don't look too flattering but they're not that bad in real life I promise. I didn't realize how cold my legs were all the time until I wore my pants! 

 Sometimes it's frustrating when you think of everything you should be doing as a missionary that you're not or you try to do but noon shows up (cough cough people who told us they would come to the capacitación H Mecca and I planned and didn't) but the mission is about learning to deal with daily disappointment and trying to find the little adventures. Like when we found a gorgeous historic Barrio in the foothills and the wind was blowing too much for wearing a skirt and it was too confusing to find a single address we wanted to pass by, but it was so gorgeous and so Spanish we weren't even mad jaja. And tip: if you ever accidentally offend a member, they will be appeased with brownies. I'm telling you brownies are the secret here! Convinced!!! 

 Os quiero, 

 Hermana Ritman 

 Contact Information

email: [email protected]

 Sister Nicole Ritman

Madrid Spain Mission

Avenida de Tenerife, 11

28703 San Sebastian de los Reyes

Madrid, Espana

 Malaga Week 8

https://photos.app.goo.gl/ULpL71c36qcwtFw28

[jarienn972]

A Simple Spell - Chapter Four

A Captain Swan Supernatural Summer Tale

We’re up to Chapter Four of my @cssns story tonight and I do have to apologize that I’m posting quite late this evening.  I struggled a bit with this chapter because I wasn’t sure how to have part of this play out.  Thank you @lassluna for letting me bounce ideas off of you and for pointing out some words that needed to be improved.

As always, thanks to the event moderators for all of your hard work and thanks again to @cocohook38 for the lovely artwork gracing the story header!

I also want to thank everyone for all of the kind words and feedback that you've left on this WIP! I haven't really had time to reply to everyone but every comment has brought a smile to my face! I wasn't sure what kind of replies I was going to get introducing Walsh in the last chapter and I promise, it'll all be explained soon. But first, we have not-a-date night...

From the beginning on Tumblr: One  Two  Three   AO3  FF.net

Emma had to remind herself a few times over dinner that this still wasn't a date and they were just two old friends playing catch up, but even she had to admit that it sort of felt like a date. She'd been careful in choosing her wardrobe, picking clothing that was fancy enough to suit the restaurant's atmosphere, yet casual enough to not give off mixed signals. She'd decided on a simple, black twill pencil skirt with a hemline that stopped just above her knees and paired it with a pale pink blouse and matching cardigan sweater. She probably should have worn dress shoes with her outfit but instead, she'd opted to wear her favorite knee-high black leather boots - using the rationale that as a deputy sheriff, she could get called to duty at any time so she'd rather have something comfy on her feet.

Walsh, of course, looked a bit more dapper than she did since he was still clad in the same grey pinstripe suit as earlier and Emma certainly couldn't deny that she was still attracted to him. She also remembered vividly that Walsh had been her rebound. They'd met only a few months after Neal had abandoned her and while she hadn't really been prepared for a new relationship at that time, she and Gibbons had just clicked.

They'd both been searching for something that day - he, a stolen painting belonging to a client and she, the thief who'd pilfered it and then jumped bail before revealing the whereabouts of said stolen painting. She'd captured the thief, but he'd already sold the artwork that, as far as she knew, never did turn up again. Either way, they'd found each other - and it was exactly what she'd needed at the time. She hadn't felt so comfortable talking to another human being for a long time - maybe even more than when she'd been with Neal.

Tonight, even after a couple of years, they'd settled right back into that welcome conversation, each filling the other in on what they'd been doing since their relationship had ended.

"It was such a wonderful surprise to run into you this morning, Emma," Walsh flashed a huge smile as he took a sip from his goblet of pinot noir. "I knew coming up here that there was certainly a chance that our paths would cross, but I couldn't be sure if you'd even want to see me."

"Why would you think that? We ended things amicably enough."

"I couldn't be sure…"

"So, you were going to come into my town and not even contact me?" she chuckled. "It's okay. I get it… Even though we ended things on good terms - well, at least I think we did, we were both just heading in different directions."

"And what direction are you heading in now?" he asked, innocently enough, but the question caught her off-guard.

"What do you mean?"

"Just curious, I guess. I hadn't expected you to end up working as a small town deputy and I wonder if you were able to find out some of that family history that you were always talking about back then. I mean, obviously it must be what brought you to Storybrooke."

"I'm a deputy because my brother - well, half-brother, offered me the job, so I suppose that finding him put me on this path. As for the rest, I'm still searching, but I'm making some headway."

"But no one special in your life yet?"

"Not yet. I'm still waiting on that, but I guess most of my life is still a work in progress…"

"Aren't all of ours?"

"I guess so," she snickered, finishing off the last of the chardonnay in her glass.

"Would you like another glass of wine?" Walsh offered.

"No, I'd better not. It's getting late and I've got an early shift tomorrow so I'd better go easy on the wine."

"I understand, my dear. I'm just so glad that you agreed to join me this evening. Feels like old times."

"It sure does," she agreed.

"I have to say that this does kinda remind me of that one night at Frederico's…"

"Oh my gosh, I remember that night! Are you thinking of before or after that huge rat came running through the dining room though?" she laughed heartily as she recalled the night in question.

"Definitely before," he replied, joining in the revelry. "Things went a little downhill after that…"

"You don't say…" she muttered sarcastically as his gaze caught hers. He clearly was ready to change the subject, expression growing more pensive as he took in the sparkle of her emerald eyes.

"Definitely made us rush out of there in a hurry. Anyway, Emma, I just have to say that it was wonderful to spend this time with you tonight and if I'm not being too presumptive, I was hoping that maybe we might be able to do this again another night before I head back to Boston?"

"I'd like that," she responded with a warm smile. "Maybe we can plan something later this week." She took a quick glance down at her phone resting atop the table and saw that it was nearly 10PM. Crap, she had the 7AM shift tomorrow! "Unfortunately right now I really should get going. Thank you so much for a lovely dinner, Walsh."

"You are most welcome, Emma. What's the best way to get in touch with you?"

"Well, you can always drop by the station… or you could call. My cell phone number hasn't changed since we dated. You remember it?"

"I do. I'll give you a call when I have some free time tomorrow."

"Sounds good," she grinned as she stood up from the table and started to pull on her burgundy trench coat.

Walsh stood as well and helped her into the coat. "Would you like me to walk you home?"

"I'll be fine, I assure you. You do remember that as a law enforcement officer, I do carry a weapon? Also, Granny's is right around the corner. It's silly for you to go so far out of your way…"

"I don't mind," he pressed, offering deep brown puppy dog eyes pleading for her to give in.

"Seriously, I'm a big girl, Walsh, and I need to make a stop at the station before I head home anyway, but I'll definitely see you later this week."

"I do hope so," he sighed expectantly as she squeezed his left hand and leaned in to give him a quick, friendly peck on the cheek. As she did, she caught a glimpse of his expression in her peripheral vision and there was an odd look in his eyes. Was that disappointment? Had he expected something more? He was smiling as she left the restaurant so maybe she'd misread it. After all, this wasn't exactly a date…

_________________________________

She found it difficult to shake the awkward feeling that she'd committed some sort of faux pas that soured an otherwise wonderful evening. She dwelled on the thought all the way to the Sheriff station where she retrieved a warmer jacket from her locker, needing it after the nighttime temperature plummeted far lower than her attire was planned for. After that brief pit stop, she found herself taking an unplanned detour that led straight down to the Rabbit Hole, Storybrooke's most colorful tavern. She'd decided that she wasn't ready to return home and as long as she was walking home, a couple of drinks to cloud her overactive brain wouldn't matter.

She shrugged off her heavier, camel colored leather coat as she descended the staircase to the basement bar. There were a few regulars perched on their usual stools directly in front of the bartender, but the place wasn't really crowded - which was even more appealing to her. Emma slid into an unoccupied slot and flagged down the barkeep.

"Remy - can I get a Jack straight up?" she placed her order and immediately decided to amend it. "On second thought, make it a double."

The bartender nodded, swiftly swooping up the bottle of liquor from the shelf with his right hand while his left hand flipped over a clean glass. Placing the glass in front of her, he filled it with the amber liquor. Emma nodded her thanks and slid a twenty dollar bill across the bar as she picked up her drink, weaving her way through the dimly lit tavern toward a table in a quiet corner. She dropped her coat onto one of the chairs and then slumped her weary body into the other chair with her back to the wall. She sighed loudly as she took the first sip from her glass, grimacing at the initial bite of the alcohol as it coated her throat while simultaneously relishing the burn and its numbing effects.

She sat there alone and silent for a few minutes, absentmindedly lighting and extinguishing the candle inside the glass jar atop the table with repeated flicks and swishes of her wand. She was enjoying the solitude but before long, she sensed someone approaching her - someone who smelled strongly of leather with hints of salt water and sweet rum.

"This would hardly seem to be the type of establishment I'd expect to be patronized by such a beautiful lady…," a velvety, accented voice spoke up from above her. She immediately recognized it as belonging to the alluring Captain Killian Jones. Suddenly, this evening was developing some new complications - and intriguing ones at that…

"I suppose that would depend on your definition of lady," she responded nonchalantly, not even bothering to look up at him yet as the butterflies in her stomach had her fearing she might melt at the mere sight of him. "Not feeling particularly ladylike at the moment," she stated as she tipped her head back and swallowed the rest of the liquor in her glass in a single gulp.

"Well then, no proper gentleman likes to see a lady drinking alone." He took a step to the side and positioned himself directly in front of her just as her sight finally drifted upward, taking in every inch of his appearance until their eyes finally met. "You do look stunning this evening, Deputy Swan, and I would be utterly honored if you would allow me the pleasure of joining you…"

Rolling her eyes at his off-handed flattery, she gestured to the chair currently occupied by her leather coat. "Have a seat, Captain Jones. Sorry about the jacket there… I hadn't planned on company."

"Please - no formalities. Killian will suffice," he reminded her as he carefully hung her coat over the chair back before sitting down opposite her. He placed his own glass of spiced rum on the table top and leaned in toward her. "Would you like another?" he asked as he nodded at her empty drink.

"Sorry, Killian. I'll try to remember that… And sure - I'm not nearly drunk enough yet…"

"Rough evening, lass?" Killian asked as he waved to the bartender for a refill. It wasn't his intention to pry but her choice of words certainly left him questioning how she'd ended up here after purporting to have had plans with someone else earlier in the evening.

"No," she sighed as Remy dropped off another glass of whiskey then scurried out of their way. "Just a complicated one…" she added.

"Evenings that end in a lonely tavern generally tend to be," he agreed, swirling the rum in his glass before finishing it off. "Did your plans for this eve fall through?"

"No, they did not," she assured him, irritation evident in her voice. "I had dinner earlier tonight with an old friend - although I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this…"

"Old friend or old lover?" he continued, probably crossing the line of what a casual acquaintance should be inquiring.

"That's a little personal, don't you think?" she snapped back, annoyed that he'd even ask such a question when they scarcely knew each other.

"Apologies, love," he responded sincerely. "I was merely attempting to make conversation and I should not have been so forward."

"He was both, if you must know." She surprised him with her blunt honesty. "But we weren't on a date. We were just having dinner - and it was a nice dinner, too… We were enjoying some good food and reminiscing - at least until I was ready to leave…" She caught herself rambling and almost stopped there. Maybe it was the alcohol fueling her right now, but she chose to continue the story. "He seemed so disappointed that things ended a little abruptly because I'm supposed to be working the early shift in the morning. That probably isn't going to happen now, but anyway, it was almost like he was expecting more… You know…?"

"Expecting more of what?" Killian wasn't sure if it was wise to push for more details but she'd revealed this much of her evening's events and he was genuinely interested in learning more. Something about this woman fascinated him and he wanted nothing more than to learn everything about her.

"I don't know - like he wanted a good night kiss or something. Not something that you generally should expect at the end of a casual dinner with a friend…"

"Perhaps you misread his intentions?" Killian suggested, his first instinct to defend his potential rival to be less likely to offend her.

"Maybe," she sighed as she nervously tapped the side of her glass with her index finger as she replayed the events in her head again. "That's why I'm so conflicted about it. Walsh was a good guy, but when we dated, I was just coming off of a very bad relationship. I don't know if running into him earlier today was meant to be a second chance for us or if things will just end like they did before. I like him, I really do, but I'm not really sure if he's the love of my life or not."

"How does one know for sure if they've met the love of their life, Swan?" he queried, perhaps rhetorically as she downed half of the liquor in her second glass. "After all, you've not even had a night out with me yet."

"Are you always this presumptuous?" she half-asked and half-snorted whiskey from her nose at his brash statement. "You think you're the love of my life?"

"There are certainly an abundance of ways to find out," he replied with a side-eyed smirk and an almost sinful bite down on his bottom lip. "Of course, we could start with a proper date, if you're so inclined? Would you care to join me aboard my ship tomorrow evening to dine with me?"

"Dinner on a ship full of sailors? Doesn't sound very romantic… or private…"

"I shall give my crew an evening's liberty. Only necessary personnel would remain onboard so we would have the Jolly Roger virtually to ourselves. I assure you - none of my crew would dare compromise their captain's privacy."

"Alright then, Captain - Killian. It's a date." It was probably the whiskey talking, but she wasn't nearly drunk enough to consider her decision making compromised.

"How does 7PM sound?"

"It sounds like a date," she replied with a broad, mildly inebriated smile.

"Good. Now, since it is nearly midnight, I must be heading back to my ship. Would you care to join me for the walk back?"

"Oh, my brother would love that - a strange man from out of town walking his sister home in the middle of the night? I may be a little bit tipsy, but I'm still capable of getting myself home." She gave him the same I can take care of myself speech that she'd given Walsh, but as she took a moment to stare at the man seated across from her, she started second-guessing her resolve. "On second thought, you know what - my place is on the way to the harbor so yeah, we can walk it together. If anyone asks, I'm escorting you back to your ship…"

Killian let out a hearty guffaw, more than willing to play along. He couldn't quite place why he found himself so enamored of this woman yet he found himself utterly fascinated with every aspect of her - her beauty, her demeanor, her intelligence. For the first time in a long time, he sensed feelings stirring that no mere pretty face would trigger. He wanted to know everything about Emma Swan and that would certainly mean finding a method of getting through her tough exterior. He was up for the challenge and it just might take a different kind of magic than Storybrooke was used to.

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