Summary: Y/N is sad at her best friend’s wedding when realizing that she’s so behind, she doesn’t have a future with someone and most probably will end up alone. That changes when Calum catches her at the hallway ready to leave and proves that it doesn’t take the title of husband and wife to have the best dance of her life
Request: “Could I please get one with Zach, just a really cute date night but it goes wrong cuz either Marcus or Bryce show up and are very inappropriate with her but Zach protects her and just a lot of fluff. Thank you so muchh”
Word count: 1.585
Posted: 06th of May 2017
A/N: It’s saturday and I wrote some imagines today, happy to tell you that there will be Monty, Zach, Jeff imagines. So you should keep an eye out! Thank you for the request and I hope that you like it! Enjoy guys.
P.S.: Which character x reader imagine would you like to see the most? Answer in my ask box, if you have time.
- G. x
Warning: Rude comments. (Y/L/N) is Your Last Name and (Y/E/C) is Your Eye Colour.
It was one of your date nights with Zach and you both decided to go to a fancy restaurant, just to shake the stress off, to have a good talk and to drink a high-quality wine together.
“Babe, are you enjoying the food?” Zach happily asked as he enjoyed his plate full of cold cuts and cheeses. You knew that he was addicted to food and it made him happy.
“Yes, the pasta is cooked well, perfect sauce and al dente pasta.” You happily said as you chewed carefully and silently your food. Zach just giggled softly and grabbed his still-white napkin and wiped the dirty edge of your lips.
“Someone’s a little bit too excited because of her green pasta!” He mocked you and you both laughed as he carefully dabbed the napkin to assure that there was no sauce left. “Here you go.”
“I can’t imagine you called my pesto in that way.” Your eyes grew wide in disbelief and you shook your head. “Dude, green pasta? Really?”
“Sorry, it’s green and I am calling it green pasta.” He pointed out and you both laughed loudly. You loved it when he goofed around you and he really felt comfortable with you.
“Captain Obvious.” You rolled your eyes playfully and he shook his head, still with a smile flashed on his face. You smiled back at him as you realized how wonderful and handsome he was. You’ve always thought that Zach was good looking, who would never think of that? But he also had a good heart and he is intelligent too. “Thank you, Zachary.”
“Am I in trouble for that? What’s with the full name basis?” He raised an eyebrow and you just winked at him. “I’d love to be punished tonight.” He grabbed your hand and caressed it lasciviously as he winked back at you, just fooling around and teasing you.
You let out a soft laugh and you smacked his hand for his actions. “Contain yourself, goofball!”
He laughed back and you shook your head because of his naughtiness. “I love you, (Y/N).”
You loved your relationship with Zach. It was just so true and you loved your intimacy. Your relationship was full of inside jokes, bluffs and pranks. Your day was always full of laughter and it seriously lessened your stress and your disquietude.
“I love you too, Zach.” You honestly replied with a wide smile. You both took your wine glasses and clinked them together, cheering for the two of you, for the success of your relationship.
You both sipped a drop of wine from the glass and Zach convinced you that he really had a great taste when it came to choosing a wine. The restaurant’s sommelier had to let him taste different wines before he’s got the perfect choice and you were so amazed because he really knew everything about wines. That was surely a tough thing to do.
“Oh, if they aren’t the famous perfect couple: Zach Dempsey and, his lovely girlfriend, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You woke up from your deep amiable thoughts as you heard a familiar annoyingly honeyed voice coming from your left side.
“Bryce.” Zach shortly called his so-called-friend, a little bit uncomfortable and annoyed for his presence. He was afraid that he might ruin something great.
“What’s up, Zach?” Bryce asked with a miffing tone and you couldn’t admit it, but he was really vexing you. “Dating your girlfriend so you could have fun tonight?”
“Bryce, what do you want?” You butted in and you got a lustful and lascivious glance from Bryce. He was eating you with his eyes and your cleavage was the perfect bait that triggered his obscenity. You uncomfortably pulled your dress up as you cover your not too revealed cleavage.
You wore a really sexy dress, as you wanted for the night to be special for you and Zach, but it didn’t mean that these disgusting maniacs had the right to be rude to you because they thought that you were wearing something that could trigger their dirty minds.
Girls should be allowed to wear whatever they want and boys should be taught how to behave themselves.
“Damn, if my girlfriend was this pretty, I wouldn’t ever let a moment slip through my hands.” He winked at you and you felt disgusted and scared at the same time. You looked at your boyfriend and the rage in his eyes was perfectly seen.
“What the fuck, Bryce?” Zach protested as he stood up, ready to hurt him if he ever continued acting inappropriately with you. “Can you just please leave us alone?”
“Oh my God, I was being kind and it was some sort of compliments. Same shit.” Bryce insisted as his eyes were still dark and full of lust. He glanced at Zach and then at you once again.
“Fuck off, Bryce.” Zach debated and he raised his fist in air as if he was about to start a fight between the two of them.
Bryce took advantage of the moment and he punched Zach twice in his face and your eyes grew wide for the happening. Blood was dripping from Zach’s cheeks and it stained his white button up shirt and his black tuxedo. Zach punched Bryce back, not caring of his wounds, and you heard the crowd gasping for the scene your boyfriend and the asshole maniac was doing.
“OMG!” You rushed to Zach and you pulled him away to dodge Bryce’s attempts of hurting him even more. “Stop it, Walker!” You shouted loudly, trying to shoo him away, but you had no success.
“Sluggish!” Bryce spat his words while considering Zach’s eyes. You didn’t mind him and you somehow felt relieved when two security guards quickly blocked him and brought him out of the restaurant.
“Are you okay?” A hurt and injured Zach asked you and you just nodded, worrying for him instead. You looked around the restaurant and it seemed like the whole world was watching the two of you. You felt ashamed because of what happened and you just unleashed a quiet but deep sigh.
“I think we should go home now. I need to cure those wounds.” You suggested and Zach quietly agreed, leaving some bills on the table to pay for your cozy, now ruined, dinner.
You both walked out of the restaurant and you felt some worry glances that stared at you. You felt anxious as the crowd was silent and Zach held your hand tightly to feel you more comfortable.
“Sorry.” Zach murmured once you got out of the restaurant. You smiled at him and you let the cold breeze of air to kiss your skin. The silence was dominating the place as the sun already set and the night took in, but the full moon and the stars illuminated the whole town and the emanated light helped you to see your way. “I ruined the night.”
“You didn’t, Zach.” You said as you tried to cheer him up.
“I did.” Zach opened the passenger’s door of his car for you, still being the gentleman that he was. He was trying to mend the what-he-called damaged night. “Careful.”
“Thanks.” You entered the car and Zach smiled sadly before he shut the door. You followed his steps with your eyes as he went to the driver’s part and he went inside the car too.
“I’m really sorry, babe.” Zach crestfallenly apologized as he glanced at your beautiful face. “I promise that I will make it up to you.”
“It’s okay, Zach.” You smiled at him and you caressed his chin to assure him. “It wasn’t your fault.” You sweetly muttered and he smiled at you. “Thank you, instead.”
“All I did was to protect you.” Zach sincerely said whilst looking into your (Y/E/C) eyes. “I did the right thing and you shouldn’t thank me for doing that.”
“Aw, Zach.” You bit your lip and you both smiled sweetly. You had some seconds of silence, the comfortable one, and Zach started to lean in to give you a kiss.
You just shut your eyes as you waited for Zach’s lips to touch yours. You’ve always admitted that waiting for Zach’s kisses still made you anxious, the butterflies kept on moving in your stomach.
You locked lips with him as soon as you felt the heat of his lips. He slowly caressed your soft cheeks while tasting your lips and you honestly liked the feeling of kissing Zach. It was the cherry on the top of every cake.
Once you broke the passionate kiss, you both considered each other’s eyes and smiled.
“It doesn’t matter if our date night was ruined, babe.” You said in a low and soft voice. “There’s nothing to be afraid of even when the night changes.”
“But it’s horrible. I want the night to be perfect.” Zach insisted, still feeling down for the scene and the disgraceful words that Bryce expectorated.
“It doesn’t matter,” You assured him. “because it will never change me and you, mostly the love that I am feeling for you.”
“I love you so much, (Y/N).” He pulled you into a hug and you lingered his tight touch. It made you feel protected, loved and wanted. At the end, those things were what all we needed the most, right? Yup, right.
“I love you too, Zach.” You sincerely and sweetly replied. You both stayed in silence and the only thing that could be heard was your heart going lub dub lub dub quickly.
→scenario: When you met Yoongi in a club, you thought it was fate that brought the two of you together. But after you walked into your college math class for the very first time, you weren’t so sure anymore.
You can't leave Vietnam AU like that, we need to know the resst ;)
is the day the Lord has made,” Murtagh FitzGibbons Fraser intoned from the
lectern of St. Bride Church. “Let us rejoice and be glad.”
sat up a bit straighter at the end of the front pew, twining his fingers
through Claire’s, exchanging a small smile with his godfather.
as long as anyone could remember, every Sunday morning the Fraser-Murray clan
had attended eight o’clock Mass at the church their forefathers had built at
the turn of the nineteenth century. Just a ten minute drive from the Big House,
it had originally served just the family and tenants of the Fraser estate.
Jamie, Jenny, and Murtagh were the only Frasers remaining in the area – most of
the extended family had moved to Asheville or Raleigh after World War II – but those
three stubborn Frasers had held strong.
and Jenny’s parents had been married at St. Bride’s. The three Fraser children –
including the eldest child, Willie, who had died of smallpox when Jamie was
small – had been baptized there. Murtagh – who lived in his own cottage on the
estate with his wife Suzette, who he had brought home from France after landing
on the beaches of Normandy – ran the lector program. Jenny and Ian had been
married there, and Young Jamie and Maggie in turn had been baptized there.
as Claire rose with Jamie, watching Father Kenneth kiss the Word of God, smile
out at the congregation, and begin reading from the Gospel of Luke – she saw
herself and Jamie standing before the priest at the altar. And standing off to
the side below the gorgeous stained glass window of Michael the Archangel, just
behind the baptismal font, gently holding a fussy newborn while reciting the
baptismal promises. And exchanging proud smiles with Jamie as a beautiful
red-haired girl received her First Communion. And holding Jamie’s trembling
hand as they watched a handsome red-haired boy be confirmed.
was her place. He was her place.
be to God,” she whispered. Serene.
was thinking of taking Claire up the mountain – to the old cabin. I can check
on it, and maybe bring back a bottle or two for dinner?”
chewed thoughtfully on his pancakes. “I haven’t been up there since the fall –
would be good to make sure it’s gone through the winter without any major
damage. Take note of what would need a repair, all right?”
nodded her thanks as Suzette poured another cup of steaming coffee. “What’s the
the house that was built before this one – on the highest part of the Ridge.”
Jenny wiped maple syrup off Young Jamie’s face with the corner of her
blue-and-white striped napkin. “It’s just a few rooms – we haven’t updated it
much over the years, except added a generator for electricity.”
stay there overnight sometimes when there’s a lot to do in the whisky caves,”
Jamie added, serving Claire another slice of Mrs. Crook’s excellent bacon
before nibbling on one himself. “It’s where we let the bottles age. We only
take them out once a year, to sell them to the restaurants and bars in town –
but I want to find a good one for us to enjoy tonight.”
you’ve got Jamie smiling again, Claire,” Ian said quietly from across the
table. “And Lord knows, Jenny and Murtagh and Suzette and I have been trying to
do that since he got back from ‘Nam.”
dropped her eyes to her lap, cheeks flaming. Under the table, Jamie lay a
gentle hand on her knee, squeezing softly.
then. Can you pass the strawberry jam please, my dear nephew-in-law? These
bannocks won’t eat themselves.”
air. Pine. The soft, damp smell of decaying leaves. Flashes of green as the
first grasses and flowers shot up from the forest floor.
Jamie – solid and quiet beside her, never letting go of her hand, silently
savoring the stillness.
had been about two hours since they’d left the house – Jamie toting a backpack
full of snacks from Mrs. Crook, Claire wearing Jenny’s pre-pregnancy jeans and
hiking boots. They hadn’t spoken very much on their journey – both lost in
their thoughts, both afraid to pierce the quiet with the sound of their voices.
just up over the crest of this hill,” he said softly, after a while.
can you even tell where we are? It’s just trees and more trees,” she teased.
flashed a brilliant smile. “My father started taking Jenny and Willie and I
hiking in these woods as soon as I could walk. He’d take me up to the caves and
let me play with the spare pieces of wood while he and Murtagh and my grandfather
Simon sorted the bottles. Believe it or not, there are plenty of landmarks
along the way – trees and rocks that you’ll recognize in time.”
Claire would be coming back.
hadn’t talked about it – hadn’t even broached the topic. But it was Sunday
afternoon, and Claire’s plane ticket back to Boston was for tomorrow morning.
– ever perceptive – stopped as they crested the hill.
it was – a small cabin, simply shingled and with just a few windows. It was
immediately clear why the first Frasers had chosen to build there – for the ground
in front of the cabin gently sloped into a grassy clearing.
used to be a barn here as well, but it was gone even before my grandfather was
a boy. This place – it’s always been a refuge. A – well. I knew a guy in the
Marines whose parents were German, and he told me of something called a ‘fridstool.’
A private place where you can be alone with your thoughts.”
turned to meet Jamie’s eyes. The one-o-clock sun streamed on his face, sparking
his hair like fire.
you’re OK taking me here? To your private place?”
sighed and settled his hands on her hips, turning her to face him. Licked his
lips, and burned his eyes into hers.
want to share *everything* with you, Claire. Here – in my most private place.
Where we can pretend we are the only man and woman in the world.”
surge – but this time of love. And want.
she replied to his unspoken question. “Of course. Yes.”
swallowed, and smiled, and gently led her down the hill.
the best thing about the “no fear one fear” comic is that it was drawn on a white paper napkin, which invokes this spectacular image of an artist at a steak and shake at 2 am, hunched over the bar, feverishly drawing this comic after a bout of (divine, most likely) inspirtation
It was well and truly into the night now, Hawkeyes defiantly drew in a mixed crowd when the night fell over the city. You and Wanda were rushed taking drink orders as Clint talked to his clientele and re-stocked the bar on numerous occasions. You had to admit you were impressed with yourself for keeping focus. Especially when the walking talking sex god kept looking at you constantly during your shift. You were hyperaware of the glances Bucky would throw you, he and the rest of his crew had allocated themselves a secluded booth in direct eye line to the bar counter. You had to wonder if this was do one purpose, so Bucky could keep an eye on you. You quickly dismissed that idea, why in the hell would I guy like that be interested in keeping tabs on you. You greeted the new arrivals with a smile as you took their order, taking a peek over at Bucky you were shocked, he was looking straight at you smirking over the rim of his whisky glass as Steve talked animatedly to him. Watching as Bucky’s face cracked into a large grin as he laughed at whatever Steve has just told him. You exhaled sharply out of your nose, suddenly finding yourself praying for the end of your shift.
Summary: Sebastian and (Y/N) meeting in an unusual way.
Word count: 846
A/N: Just thought of posting another Sebastian imagine. I love him so much and I honestly miss Seb. I hope you guys like it.
My requests are still open and you can request from the Flash, Arrow,Super Girl, Glee, Shameless, Grant Gustin and Stephen Amell.
- G. x
Warning: (Y/F/T/S) is Your Favourite TV Series.
It was your lunch break and you decided to go to Lima Bean alone since you needed some coffee to wake your body and soul up. You were almost sleeping during your maths classes and you knew that caffeine was the solution and the hero of your day.
It was also your fault, because you stayed up until 3 am as you tried to finish a season of (Y/F/T/S). You’ve watched that series many times now, but you never got tired of it. Of course, it was your favourite, how could you even get tired of it?
“(Y/N)!” You quickly turned your head as the barista over the counter finally called your name. You happily hopped to the counter and got your paper cup full of caffeine.
“Thank you.” You smiled widely and you started to walk towards the transparent glass door.
“Bye! Have a nice day.” The barista greeted you and you turned your head to flash her a sweet and wide smile.
“Bye.” You responded as you turned your head back through the transparent door.
You were about to open the door when a tall boy suddenly bumped you and it caused you to shower him with your burning hot latte macchiato.
“For fuck’s sake!” The boy hissed as the coffee burnt his fair coloured skin and he quickly took his familiar navy blue with some red lines blazer off.
“OMG.” Your eyes widen and you quickly ran to the counter to get some clean white napkins. “I’m sorry.” You handed him the napkins and he tried to clean his stained blazer and white button down shirt.
“Damn, look where you’re going the next time.” He snapped at you and you quickly corrugated your forehead, finding the guy a little bit arrogant and irritating. “You have two eyes to see, not to be stupid.”
“Uhm,” you raised an eyebrow. “excuse me?”
“Oh, fuck off!” He rudely pushed you away from him.
“Asshole.” You insulted him, obviously losing your temper. Who wouldn’t? You were just trying to make it up to him. “Tell me how much do you want me to pay for that worthless blazer you have there?”
“You surely can’t afford it, so don’t even bother.” He smirked at you, letting go of his frown this time.
“Fucker.” You threw him your empty paper cup and you started to walk to the transparent door once again.
“Hey,” He put the cup on an empty table and he suddenly stopped you as he pulled your left soft hand towards himself. “what’s your name?”
“It’s not your business, lunatic douche.” This time, it was your turn to snap at him. You were also confused because of his actions.
“Oh, c'mon!” He then started to laugh once again. “Let me buy you another cup of latte macchiato.”
“No, thanks.” You shortly answered as you tried to escape from his grip.
“I thought my friends told me that I suck at acting?” He snorted louder than before and you just looked at him, perplexed.
“Huh?” You corrugated your forehead once again.
“Sebastian Smythe,” he let your hand go as he extended out his right hand, ready to shake your hands.
“(Y/N).” When you finally decided to give in, you took his hand and shook your hands together.
“Your name is as beautiful as your face.” He winked at you, now he’s flirting obviously. You started to think that this Sebastian guy in front of you was bipolar, because, the moment before, he was so angry and he treated you bad and, now, he’s complimenting you and everything. “C'mon, let’s talk for awhile.”
“Alright.” You rolled your eyes as the two of you got a coffee table. He ordered a cappuccino for him and a latte macchiato for you.
As he was ordering, you started to admire his features. You realized that he was a handsome and elegant man. His hair was slicked back perfectly and he took care of his face, as there were no traces of pimples or blackheads. His tie was stained, together with his school uniform, but his outfit still perfectly fit to him.
“(Y/N)!” He snapped his fingers as he tried to catch your attention.
“Hmm?” You shook your head and considered his emerald coloured eyes.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you before.” He regretfully said. “I was practicing for a theatre role and I thought that it would be funny to try it to you.”
He explained his reason and you just shook your head while having a playfully smile.
“Sebastian, you’re an asshole.” You both chuckled as your anger started to fade away. “You deserved to get that free coffee shower earlier.”
“I know,” He winked at you with a smirk on his lips. “but I am happy that I tricked you and not someone else.”
“Indeed!” You agreed on his statement happily and he just let out a soft giggle.
“Friends?” He asked you seriously.
“Friends.” You replied.
You were happy that you gained a new friend, even though you met in an inappropriate, but creative and original way.
Many, many thanks to all of you who have supported this story and taken this journey with me. I cannot thank you enough, and know I read and cherish every review and appreciate every reblog and retweet so very much!
This chapter is specifically dedicated to my precious friend and soul-sister @lillie-grey as a belated birthday gift. Please forgive me for being a week late! And I’m leaving this verse open-ended so prompts and requests will be welcome. :)
With that, dear readers, I hope you enjoy! You can read it here or on ff.net.
Christ, her feet hurt.
Regina had followed Mary Margaret from Babies
R Us to Buy Buy Baby, from Victoria’s Secret for some
post-pregnancy lingerie, now that the new mom had been given the green light
for having sex again, to Barnes and Noble for what supposedly was
supposed to be an “in and out” errand. Said errand had morphed into a prolonged
search for a children’s book that was ironically out of print, followed by
coffee in the bookstore’s cafe and an impromptu nap for Baby Neal. Her friend
had more energy than most new mothers, Regina mused, especially those who’d
undergone an emergency C-Section only weeks prior, and she was glad to see Mary
Margaret acting more like herself again. She just wished her feet weren’t
paying the price for her friend’s unexpected burst of energy. She took another
sip of her Flat White as she snuggled her godson to her chest and rubbed his
back, relishing his soft weight and his sweet baby scent as his head rested on
“Alright,” Mary Margaret stated, checking her
watch as she returned from the restroom and took a final sip of her Frappuccino.
“I think we should probably head home now.”
“Thank God,” Regina muttered, kissing Neal’s
downy head as she stood. Her knees popped as her lower back protested, making
her curse the questionable logic of wearing heels this afternoon. Snazzing up a
little on a Saturday after wearing sensible shoes to work all week had been an
appealing option this morning.
“So you’re here to sell a software? How is it going?” Mark was munching on his slice of pizza, legs crossed on one of the small chair in the office.
The girl wiped her mouth, trying to swallow the huge piece she was gulping down with hunger “Yes. If I succeed, it will be my biggest collaboration. It didn’t go as planned though.” She put the slice down, tapping on her chest to help the food go down.
Mark opened a water bottle and handed it to her, nodding “How come?”
“I had a horrible hangover, and I might have, you know, crashed one of their computer. A super expensive one.” She made a face and he chuckled.
Lena announces her wedding date a year before it happens. She and Emily are ecstatic, in love, totally and completely happy. Angela’s happy for them, too. Happier still when she goes to the bachelorette party a month out (both of them) - ridiculously happy to drag a drunken Farreha home after one, and then to have been escorted home drunkenly at the other by the same woman.
A week out and Emily calls her to go to lunch and Angela accepts willingly. Sitting across from the red head, sipping coffee after her meal Emily finally leans forward and, looking almost too serious says:
PROMPT?:(..) where the reader is a really clumsy and hyperactive cinnamon roll, and once she bumps with Tim Drake, and he finds her gorgeous so he will disguise himself as Robin and will follow her around, saving her a couple of times, and they fall in love and fluff, and and and such? (..)
A/N: I love this so much. I took a little liberty but stayed close to the request :-) Also this would’ve been up a fuckin week ago but Tumblr is an asshole and hasn’t let me post it.
WARNINGS: cursing (??), clumsiness, fem!reader, dark alleys
Tim Drake spent most of his free time frequenting the Starbucks near the school campus. He went day after day and soon enough, it became quite routine. Normal, even. It became life for Tim Drake to order his regular and step back out and walk the quiet ten minutes back to his next class. Really, the only excitement Tim ever got anymore was going on patrol, and even that got boring. Oh no, Mr. Freeze. Oh no, Riddler. It was all so monotonous. It seemed like his body just walked through each day and nothing ever changed. The apathy nagged at the back of his head. Tim shook his head and laughed at himself. He was usually the happy go lucky one, excited for life, but Jesus. His current life was so tiring. “My regular please.” Tim nodded and lifted his fingers as a signal and his normal barista smiled and nodded, giving him a discount he usually implored to take off. Except today, he didn’t. He simply gave her a small smile and for a moment, her eyes quirked but went back to making his drink. He grabbed the collar of his pea coat and flipped them up for surrounded warmth. The quickly oncoming winter got Tim good and he was not getting sick. Not when Christmas patrol was starting up in a month or two, Todd would never let him live it down. Christmas patrol was his favorite. He huffed and looked down at the table before hearing the doorbell ring and typical chatter between customer and barista employed.
At least once a month, Steve picks Max up on a Saturday morning and they drive a few towns out of Hawkins to a small diner that they’re both convinced makes the best onion rings in all of Indiana.
One Saturday in July, Steve slips into the washroom near the end of their meal and leaves Max at the table tearing her red and white napkin into tiny pieces. Their waitress comes over and smiles winningly down at her.
“Can I get anything else for you or your brother?” she asks warmly. Max shakes her head, a smile blossoming over her face. She loves being away from Hawkins—in places where people don’t know her or Steve, where people mistake them for brother and sister regularly.
“We’re good, thanks.”
It’s not until the waitress is out of view that reality returns and Max’s smile fades. Because no matter how far away from Hawkins she gets, she’ll always have to go back. And because no matter how many people comment on what sweet siblings they are, Steve will never be her real brother.
A busy night.
The diner’s door didn’t seem to shut as one couple walked in right after
another with their heels clicking on the cool marble floor and their voices
ringing all the way to the kitchen, which was behind a meek door behind a counter
and where you currently found yourself frantically searching for more napkins.
Your yellow uniform was now layered with dust at its edges and a spec of salsa sauce
on the side, but you couldn’t really see it. At least you hoped. The stench of
oil and the crisp sound of frying started to hurt your head and your eyes
watered, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as your fingers finally grabbed a
hold of two packs of clean white napkins. You hopped on your feet – with a free
hand you hurriedly dusted off the dirt and redness from your knees, then fixing
a few strands of loose hair behind your ear – and with a smile directed at
another friendly waitress you pushed the kitchen’s door open and found yourself
standing behind the counter.
Emma dodged what was probably the fourth man
trying to kiss her and moved to the back of the room in where just the now empty
chairs waited along with the dirty plates and stains of wine on white and light
grey napkins and tablecloths. She dropped the smile she had been keeping as she
finally sighed, feeling the high heels she had been forced to wear cutting deep
on her skin. She was probably going to kill Ruby for making her go to the
wedding like this but that, she surmised, was going to probably be after
managing to move her sore feet back to their shared apartment.
Her thoughts were cut short when a figure
plopped down a few seats at her left, in the same circular table she was in.
Frowning, she found herself staring to a brunette woman close to her own age
and grasping an almost empty tumbler of alcohol. Her fingers gripped the glass
tightly but her eyes, chocolate brown, seemed to be swarming in thoughts and
her other hand, running up and down the brunette’s neck, seemed to tremble. The
stranger was definetely not sober and for a moment Emma let her own alcohol slightly
induced brain rake up and down the woman’s
impressive figure before she snapped out of it.
As bad as she felt, she thought, the woman in
front of her seemed to be in even worse shape. Clearing her throat and smiling
charmingly to the woman once she looked at her she moved a few seats to her
left until they both were looking at each other eye to eye.
“From the groom’s side?” She asked. Snow had
invited what seemed to be a small town’s worth of people but she was sure that
she would have remembered the brunette woman if she had seated with her at her
side of the chapel the couple had picked up.
The brunette looked at her before placing the
tumbler on the table’s surface, the soft clunk noise being impossible to hear
due to the music that, even where they were, echoed on every surface.
Emma wondered if she was doing something
similar to what she had been subjected to with almost every man she had
encountered that evening but remained where she was.
“I’m Emma.” She provided after an awful long
silence. She needed to scream a little but her voice rose above the music
enough for the brunette to nod at her, apparently deciding to humor her.
“Regina.” Came the reply in a smooth voice in
where only a slight slurring denoted the alcohol the woman, Regina, probably
had on her body. “And no, dear, I’m from the bride’s.”
That made Emma frown; she had truly not seen
Regina before and considering her age and how Snow had almost invited everyone
who had been on her life ever since university it was strange for her not to
recognize her name.
“Don’t bother.” The brunette said while
chuckling. “I’m the complicated guest, uncomfortable and who no one knows where
to sit her at.”
She didn’t seem the kind to overshare so Emma
fumbled with her digits, not sure how to keep talking after that. It was Regina
the one who gave her an opening.
“I worked with Little Snow’s father on his law
firm until he passed away. My mother tried to do a few shady things with the
firm a few years ago and when she was finally incarcerated Leopold told me that
I could still work with him.”
“You’re Regina Mills.” Emma blurted, remembering
when Snow had told her that story. She had never actually linked story to face
and now she could she blinked, realizing for the first time who the brunette
was. Leopold had died very soon after Cora’s imprisonment and the papers had maliciously
commented how close the two incidents- Regina’s mother stealing and the man’s
own demise- had been. It made sense that the brunette considered herself quite
the complicated guest since Snow had probably invited her in order to feel
better about it everything that had transpired. Specially taking into account
that later on rumors about Leopold and Cora being lovers had been shared with
“Bingo.” Came the acid response and Emma bit
down on her bottom lip, suddenly not sure at all on how to proceed. She had
felt interested when she had first seen the brunette and that, being as
gorgeous as she was, wasn’t definetely something difficult to understand.
However, Regina as definetely not in the mood to do anything but probably drink
and be free of the wedding as soon as possible. “You said your name was Emma?”
“I’m friends with Ruby, Snow’s…”
“Best friend, yes, I remember her, she used to come
to the law firm every time Snow did as well just to flirt with Leopold’s
Emma didn’t say anything about that, Ruby was
known to be a flirt after all.
“There was a time when I thought the two of
them were together.” Regina shared conspiringly, seeming now slightly more
comfortable as minutes passed. Emma gaped at the information before shaking her
head. She had seen the two of them interact and Ruby and Snow went way back,
the possibility itself was strange to think about.
“I don’t think Snow swings that way.” She finally
said meekly, wincing when she realized how that had sounded.
Regina, however, chuckled.
“And you?” She boldly asked, smirking when Emma
blushed slightly at the brass question. This definetely wasn’t going as planned.
This time it was Regina’s eyes the ones that
traveled up and down Emma making the blonde shudder.
I won’t. It’s her first birthday. I think we, better than anyone, are aware how
you can’t get these for granted.”
silence felt over the wooden table. The redhead was staring at her lap, hands
still holding the silverware. She could feel the tears pooling up behind her
waterline, but was determined to not let them fall. April could feel Jackson’s
eyes staring at her skull, and she could picture exactly how guilt and
apologetic they were at the moment. Unfortunately, the anger that was
overcoming the sadness in her chest didn’t let her care. She saw his hand lay
the fork over the table and try to reach hers right in front of him, as she
wouldn’t meet his eyes, but all the woman could do was to release her utensils
and put them away.
The hallway leading to Jack’s apartment smells like maple syrup, apples, and brown sugar. As he slips the key into the lock, Jack wonders if his neighbors ever pay attention to what Bitty’s baking, or if it’s just him. He’d like to think it’s just him, that Bitty’s baking just for him (even though he usually can’t eat any of it), but he also thinks you’d have to be Ransom-and-Holster-level oblivious not to notice. He should ask Bitty about making friends with the lady and her two cats who live across the way. One of the cats is named Caramel, he’s pretty sure - maybe Bits could bake those cookies with the caramel in the middle?
He’s pushing open the door, ready to ask him about it when he sees the kitchen. When he sees Bitty in the kitchen, or what’s left of it, anyway.
There are three pies, two batches of cookies, one tray of brownies, and a very yellow (lemon?) cake cooling on his pool table. Plus a fourth pie baking in the oven. The kitchen is, undeniably, an utter mess, and a very stressed and anxious Bitty is pacing around what used to be the island in a cloud of confectioners’ sugar, frantically whisking together what Jack assumes to be frosting or glaze for the cake.
(That’s another thing he never expected, all of the baking terminology he’s learned. Jack, whose only cooking talents were rice, chicken, and steamed vegetables, now knows the difference between various types of bread on sight and can articulate about twenty different toppings for a cake. Bitty’s very proud.)
When he hears Jack drop his bag on the floor of the foyer, Bitty looks up. He looks tired, Jack thinks - he even has dark circles smudged under his eyes. “Did your uncle Gretzky ever R.S.V.P?”
Jack blinks. “My… what?”
“Your uncle Gretzky,” Bitty repeats. “Did he ever mail us his R.S.V.P. to tell us if he was comin’? Because seating for the rehearsal dinner is separate from the seating at the venue, and I was tryin’ to do tables today because Andrea called and said she needed the seating charts by this Friday, only we’re missin’ people and I don’t wanna forget anyone.”
Jack frowns. “I… I don’t know. I can call him? Or my dad, he might know, I guess.”
Bitty drops the whisk to wave a hand through the air. “No, no, never mind, it’s not important, honey.”
Jack sheds his coat and walks over to sit at the breakfast bar in front of Bitty, who’s still pacing and mumbling something about an appointment next Tuesday.
“Sweetheart, peonies or dahlias? We’ve gotta make a decision before we talk to the florist.”
“Um,” Jack replies eloquently. Sure, he’s heard of peonies and dahlias, but he doesn’t really know what they look like, much less which one he prefers.
“Oh, doesn’t matter,” Bitty sighs impatiently. “I forgot we still haven’t picked napkin colors yet. Andrea will have my head on a platter, I’m sure of it. White or ecru?”
“Sweetpea, your mother will be there, and Lord does she know her color palettes. It has to be perfect. Do you think white or ecru goes better with the palette we picked?”
Jack doesn’t want to admit that he doesn’t remember picking any palette, so he guesses. “Um, white?”
Bitty slams the bowl onto the counter and throws his hands up. “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you cannot pair navy and cream suits with white napkins. I never - it’s like you don’t even know your own mother!”
Jack sighs. “Bits, what’s got you all worked up?”
Bitty’s shoulders slump, and he resumes mixing so he has something else to look at. “It’s… it’s so much, Jack. And it’s so soon, it’s only six months away-”
“Plenty of time,” Jack cuts in, and Bitty nods.
“I know. But it seems like every time I turn around there’s somethin’ else we gotta decide on, and I just want everythin’ to be perfect, absolutely perfect. It has to be, what with so many people comin’ and our parents comin’ and Lord knows everyone’s got their own opinion on how things should be done, and I love my Mama dearly, you know that, but sometimes-”
“Bud, we’ll figure it out. People get married all the time, how hard can it be?” Jack grins reassuringly, and Bitty smiles back.
“You’re right, darlin’,” he says over his shoulder, taking the third maple apple pie out of the oven. “Although, there is one more thing…” Bitty trails off as Jack slips his arms around his waist from behind.
“Hmmm?” Jack hums, burying his nose in Bitty’s hair despite the light dusting of flour and powdered sugar on top.
“How would you feel about, oh, I don’t know, three hundred and fifty mini maple apple pies ‘stead of a cake?”
Bitty’s not a hundred percent sure, but he thinks that the way Jack laughs and spins him around for a kiss means yes.