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eddiesasspbrak · 1 year

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Not What I Expected Ch7

It’s Autumn in 1985 and Eddie is being harassed because he sold weed to the wrong girl. Steve is still trying to get over Nancy and might have found the one person that can help him achieve that goal. Meanwhile, Robin has some secret romantic intentions of her own.

Pre Season 4 and not canon compliant with season 4

7K+ words

AO3

Steve joined Wayne back out in the main area of the trailer. He was sat on the couch in front of the TV, a beer in hand. Steve wasn’t sure where he was meant to go or if he should stand or sit. Sitting with him on the couch seemed too casual. This was basically the parent of the guy he liked, and he had no idea how to act in front of him. The last time they’d talked had been short and to the point. Sure, if they ended up dating Steve would have to get used to Wayne and stop feeling so intimidated by him. After all, this was a man with a fairly big mug collection on his wall. He definitely had a soft side to him; Steve had seen it himself when it came to Eddie. It left a hollow ache in his chest to see Wayne hug him the way he did. Yea, Steve had said that he had his friends, but friends were no replacement for parents. They were his family 100%, but like siblings and that’s just not the same.

Steve wished for years that one of his parents would look his way just once and say they were proud or that they cared. When he’d gotten into a fight with Jonathon, he’d been lectured on fighting and how stupid it was. When Billy beat him to unconsciousness it was more or less the same but with absolutely no concern over his concussion. When he’d been held captive by Russian’s under Starcourt he’d been beaten and drugged. They hadn’t even come to the hospital. He was a man now, after all. He could clean up his own messes. To be fair, they didn’t know that he had nearly been killed by Russians, but parents should still care a little bit.

While Steve no longer loved Nancy as anything but a friend – and they’d broken up – Steve still found that he was jealous of Jonathon Byers. And Will for that matter. Their dad was a major dick, but they still had one parent who loved them. She’d literally kill for them, go to another dimension and risk her own health and safety for them, stand down government officials for them. Steve wanted that. He wanted to be loved. Hopper had adopted El and seemed to love her, maybe he would adopt Steve too.

He had to stop this train of thought and not focus on what he didn’t have. It would only lead to his emotions getting the better of him and he didn’t need that right now. Eddie was the priority, not Steve. He would worry about himself later. Clearing his throat, he finally found his voice to cut through the awkward silence.

“So, um, Eddie is really going to be ok over at my place, but you’re more than welcome to stop by and check on him whenever.” He offered.

“I’m not too worried about you.” Wayne didn’t look at him as he spoke, his eyes glued to the TV, so he didn’t see the smile his words immediately caused. Steve thought he was on his good side already, but that made him feel better about his worries. “I may check in just to ease my mind, but I’m sure he’ll be ok with you. If he says he trusts you, that’s good enough for me.”

Eddie trusted him. Had he said that? He wanted to ask but thought it was too eager. Eddie had told him to show him that he really liked him, that he really wanted to be with him. That had left him believing that he didn’t trust him at all. If he trusted Steve even a little, even just enough to keep him safe, that was a start. He’d grow that trust and prove to Eddie that he truly, deeply wanted to be with him and make him happy. Steve felt a renewed sense of confidence and motivation that had him grinning, that is until a knock sounded at the door sending both Steve and Wayne into high alert.

Wayne stood and made his way to the door, already looking like he was ready to pounce. Steve readied himself to see Jason on the other side. He’d go down, fists swinging, to protect Eddie, but he also made sure to stand to the side so the person couldn’t see him. Wayne could lie and say Eddie wasn’t home, but if they saw Steve all bets were off. Luckily, it wasn’t Jason at the door. It was Chrissy.

“Is Eddie here?” She asked, her voice sounding very nervous from Steve’s perspective.

“Uh, yea. He is.” Wayne hesitated, his confusion evident. “And you are?” Wayne asked

“I’m Chrissy. I was hoping to talk to him. If that’s ok.”

Another hesitation, before he stepped to the side with a sigh. “Well, you can try. Come on in.”

Chrissy stepped inside and if Steve looked out of place here, she looked like she’s stepped onto another planet. Her doe eyes widened in surprise when she saw Steve in the living room area. “Hi, you’re Steve, right?”

“Yea. Hi.” Steve tried to sound nonchalant and friendly but was failing miserably.

“I was already cheering when you were playing basketball. You were pretty good.” Her smile was dazzling, and she wasn’t even trying. It irritated Steve for reasons he couldn’t quite place. Chrissy was cute, pretty, sweet and petite. Steve hadn’t really known her personally but knew of her and she was nice to all and charming in every way. There was a reason she was now the “queen” of Hawkins high.

“I remember.” Steve didn’t mean to be so short with her, but he didn’t fully trust her. It was her boyfriend who was out to get Eddie and, whether she meant to or not, she was the cause. What could she possibly want with Eddie now? If she liked him she was making a mistake. There was no way for her to know he only liked guys, but if Jason found out it would only cause more problems. Like Eddie had said, his sexuality alone was enough for them to torment him. The last thing they needed was for Chrissy to get her heart broken and run back to Jason and tell him Eddie’s secret.

Eddie came out of his room a moment later wearing his own clothes and carrying two bags and Steve’s sweats. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Chrissy, the bags nearly falling from his hands.

“Hi Eddie.” She smiled shyly, giving a little wave.

“Chrissy.” He darted his eyes over to Steve and then back to her. “What are you doing here?”

Steve wasn’t sure why he’d looked to him. Maybe to see if he was nervous or to calm himself. Either way, it made Steve’s gut twist in a way he didn’t like. As Eddie drew closer to her, he realized that he hated the sight of them side by side. Was this jealousy? There’s no way. There was no evidence to suggest that Chrissy had a crush on Eddie and even if she did, Eddie was gay. Though it dawned on Steve that he had only liked girls until he found Eddie. Well, he at least was in denial until he met Eddie. Was it possible it could be the reverse for him? What if he realized he liked Chrissy? Dating her would certainly be easier for him, though would still cause his problems where Jason was concerned.

Steve had to physically shake the thought from his head. If she could read his mind, Robin would smack him upside the head for those thoughts. He kind of wished she was there. She made everything easier for him and this moment was not easy.

“I left school early to come here without being seen. I was hoping we could talk.” Chrissy was saying, sounding innocent enough.

Eddie opened his mouth before pausing and looking to Wayne and then Steve. He gave Eddie a little nod, even though he really didn’t want them to talk any more than necessary. “Uh, sure. Let’s step outside. Steve.” Eddie motioned for him to follow as they made their way back out the door.

Steve followed, annoyed that he was happy Eddie wanted him to follow them. It meant he didn’t want to talk to her alone. Maybe for protection, or maybe he just wanted Steve close by. He took the things out of Eddie’s hands, their fingers brushing sending tingles up Steve’s arms, to put in the trunk. It gave them the illusion of privacy, though he could hear everything they said. If this was a love confession Steve really didn’t want to hear it, but he wouldn’t leave Eddie with the girl that could potentially be setting him up. He didn’t really believe that she would do that, but he had to be cautious. He’d said he wouldn’t let anything happen to him and he’d meant that.

“What’s going on?” Eddie asked her, settling on the edge of the porch.

“I wanted to apologize. I heard that Jason was the one who beat you up that day…and that it was because of me.” She sounded guilty though Steve couldn’t see her face. “I broke up with him because of it.”

“I heard.”

“Oh…did he…?”

“He came looking for me last night. Didn’t find me though. I can’t go to school right now. I’ve got to lay low until he calms down.” Eddie said everything so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal and Steve wondered if it was some persona he was trying to keep up. He knew that the other man was scared and frustrated and angry, but he wasn’t letting it show.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why he’s acting like this. I told him a thousand times that I’d just been asking you a question about school, and he refused to believe me. I told him that he was being irrational and that if he couldn’t trust me, we couldn’t be together.” She sighed. “He doesn’t seem to see his fault in any of this.”

“Because he blames it all on me. It’s easier than admitting his own faults.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong though.”

Eddie laughed humorlessly. “You know that, and I know that, probably everyone who knows even a tiny detail about all this knows that. But he’s made me out to be a villain, out to ruin your relationship and steal you away. In his eyes I’ve done just that.”

“I’m so sorry. If there was something I could do, I would. I’ve tried.”

Eddie sighed and stood from the porch. “It’s fine, Chrissy. It’s really not your fault. He’s just lost it.”

“I know, but I feel responsible.”

“Don’t worry about it. He’ll forget about me in no time, and it will blow over.”

Steve came back around the car, having pretended to organize the trunk as long as he could. Their conversation seemed to be coming to an end and Steve was desperate to get Eddie away from the trailer park before anyone else showed up. “You ready?” He asked.

“Yea. I’ll talk to you later Chrissy.” Eddie nodded her way.

“Need a ride?” Steve asked her, not really wanting to give her a ride but ever the gentleman.

“No, I’m alright. Thanks.”

The two stepped into the car while Chrissy waved before heading toward her own car she’d parked a little ways away. Made sense, it would only cause problems if someone saw her car outside his place. She was smart to come early, if anyone had seen her there things would escalate even further than they already had. Eddie was quiet in the car, staring out the window and lost in thought. Steve wished he could do as he pleased and reach out to comfort him with touch, but he wasn’t sure it would be a comfort. So, he stayed silent and let Eddie think, hoping he’d eventually let him know what was on his mind.

They drove to the school and Eddie slid down in his seat until he was hidden from view. It wasn’t a comfortable position, but no one could see him unless they were right up against the window. Dustin got to the car first, running to the passenger’s side door before looking down and seeing Eddie. His smile turned to a confused frown. Instead, he went to the back and opened the door.

“I finally thought I beat Robin to the car and Eddie’s riding shotgun. Not fair.” He complained as he sat. “Where have you been anyway? I didn’t see you all day.”

“I didn’t go to school.” Eddie said, unable to look back at him from this angle but tilting his head back to be heard more clearly.

“But…you’re with Steve. Why are you with Steve if you didn’t go to school?” Dustin asked. When they didn’t immediately respond, he continued. “Did you two become friends and not tell me? I wanted you to be friends, but I can’t believe you’d ditch to hang out with Steve without me!”

“That’s not exactly what’s going on.” Steve sighed. How he longed to just blurt out everything and tell Dustin that if they started dating he would just have to deal with them being close without him around. But that would be a stupid thing to do. If Eddie even chose to date Steve, it would be a decision to make together whether to tell people and when to do so. This was not the right time for any of it. Robin and Nancy knowing was enough for now.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll talk about it when Robin gets here.” Steve knew that Robin would just end up with the same questions and he didn’t want to repeat himself.

As if on cue, Robin appeared and did practically the same thing Dustin had. Looking into the seat, frowning, and then going around to the back seat. She climbed into the back with Dustin and caught Steve’s eyes in the mirror. “What’s going on here? Since when does Eddie get the front seat?” She asked.

“That’s what I want to know.” Dustin added.

“Alright children, calm down. It’s just a seat in the car.” Steve griped as they drove away. Once they were far enough from campus, Eddie pushed himself back up into his seat.

“So, what’s going on?” Dustin asked.

Eddie took a deep breath, preparing for the conversation about to take place. He was tired of talking about it, wanting it to just be a thing of the past already. “Chrissy dumped Jason for harassing me, he thinks it’s my fault, he wants to kill me and I can’t go to school until he chills out. I also can’t stay at home.”

“Why not?” Robin asked.

“Last night they never actually left Family Video. They were waiting for us and since Jason had said earlier that he knows where he lives, we thought it was safer for him to stay with me.” Steve explained.

“Wait, seriously? Eddie is living with you?” She asked with raised eyebrows. It was dangerous for her to know all the details of Steve’s crush. He could tell from the rearview mirror that she was doing everything she could to keep certain comments to herself while Dustin was in the car. He was not looking forward to being alone with her and getting bombarded with questions about their living situation.

“Temporarily, yes.”

“That is so unfair.” Robin sat back in her seat with a huff.

“What?” Steve asked, confused. That was definitely not the response he’d been expecting from her.

“I’m your best friend and I’ve never even been to your house, but Eddie gets a multi-day sleepover?”

Steve was flabbergasted that that was what she took from all of this. He wasn’t even sure how to respond to that and could see Eddie looking at him with a grin from the corner of his eye.

“Wait, wait. I’m Steve’s best friend.” Dustin interjected.

“What? Shut up, no you aren’t.”

“Uh, yea I am.”

“I work with him and am only a year younger. You’re more like his child.”

“Which makes me family.”

“Ok, enough!” Steve interrupted their bickering, finally finding the right words. “I wouldn’t call it a sleepover. It’s more like an emergency situation. But if it’s that big of a deal, we can have a little party or something this weekend.”

“Really? A party at the Harrington house?” Robin beamed. Dustin also perked up at the prospect.

“A small party. Friends only. The more people that know, the more likely it is Jason finds out. Got it?” Steve was using his scolding voice at this point, but both were far too excited to care.

They both agreed to keep it small and changed the conversation to who all met the criteria of ‘friend’. The party, obviously, was invited. Nancy was a must according to Robin. Steve eventually tuned out their excited chatter, not really concerned with their guest list. Neither had many friends to begin with. Eddie was oddly quiet for this conversation, though he seemed content enough when Steve stole a glance at a stop light. He dropped Dustin and Robin at their houses, Robin first to avoid the looming conversation there, before the two of them went home.

Later that evening, as they were sat in front of the TV with the leftover stir fry, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about how comfortable Eddie seemed to be with him. He’d noticed it once or twice before, like in the car earlier. Even after Robin and Dustin had been dropped off and it was just them, he no longer looked upset or confused. As if they were just out for a drive and nothing bad was happening. That’s what Steve wanted – he wanted him to be comfortable and relaxed and not have to worry about anything. Because of Robin, he had come to recognize that as his love language a while ago. He wanted desperately for those he loved to be safe and cared for and happy. He would do whatever it took to help them achieve that. He just had to make Eddie understand that now.

“So, what do I have to do?” Steve asked after agonizing over it a while longer.

“Do what?” Eddie had been listening to the TV and didn’t comprehend what he meant. Now he turned to Steve, attention on him.

“To prove to you that I like you and I’m not just confused. What do I have to do?”

“Shit, I don’t know. What do you do with girls?”

Steve hesitated while he thought that over. He hadn’t really put much thought into it before, it had always come naturally to him. Until Nancy completely changed him and seemed to take away his mojo. “I don’t know…I flirt and ask them out on a date.”

“Ok, then start there.”

“Well, we’re alone right now.”

Eddie laughed. “No way. This definitely doesn’t count as a date. Maybe if we were in an established relationship, but this is just two people eating together. You have to ask me on a proper date.”

“Then tomorrow. Let’s go out.”

“Where? I’m in hiding, remember?”

“During the day all those people are in school, and I don’t work tomorrow. We can have an afternoon date.”

Eddie thought about it while he chewed his food. Steve had never been so nervous when asking someone out. His confidence had just been zapped right out of him. Eddie wouldn’t say no, right? He’d practically been the one to suggest it. Still, Steve had nervous butterflies in his stomach while he tried not to watch Eddie too closely, waiting for his response. “Alright. What are we going to do?” He finally asked, completely unaware of the agony Steve had been in while waiting.

“What do you like to do? Besides play D&D and play guitar. I’m not sure I’d be any good at either of those.”

“I think I’ll let you figure that out for yourself. You’re supposed to be proving to me that you like me, so plan the date you’d think I’d like.”

Eddie turned back to the TV, a particularly evil smile on his face. Ok, Steve could do this. He could. He just had to figure out what else Eddie enjoyed. That wouldn’t be too hard, right? A new set of nervous energy set over his body and mind. Steve wanted this to go well – no, he needed this to go well. Just being near Eddie was a constant issue. He wanted to touch him, kiss him, flirt unabashed and let it go somewhere instead of dying between them like it had in his room. Though, maybe it would have gone somewhere if Wayne hadn’t been in the other room. Regardless, Steve was ready to prove to him that he wasn’t bullshitting and that he wanted to be with him.

“What does Eddie like to do?” Steve asked the second Dustin sat in the passenger’s seat. Robin’s place was his next stop. He’d needed time to talk to Dustin about Eddie without her interjecting. It was easier to get their help separately than together.

“What?” Dustin asked, confused.

“What does Eddie do for fun? Besides D&D and his band.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Well, I…” Steve honestly hadn’t thought of an excuse. It would be easier to tell Dustin everything but, again, he wasn’t sure it was the best idea just yet. He’d have to lie for now. “We’re hanging out today. He’s bored being stuck in my house, so I thought I’d plan something he likes.” Not exactly a lie, but not the truth either.

“Oh, well, he likes to smoke weed.” Dustin ticked off on one finger.

“Wha-?” Steve’s eyebrows knit together, and he glanced at Dustin, his mouth agape. “You haven’t smoked with him, right?”

“No, Steve. Your mom side is showing.” Dustin rolled his eyes.

He hated that. The kids had taken to calling him ‘mama Steve’ when he was being overprotective of them. Max had promised to get him a gift for Mother’s Day, and he’d just about lost it. “Ok, so smoking weed, what else?”

“He likes a lot of the same things I do. Lord of the Rings, video games, comics.”

“So, nerd stuff.”

“Basically.”

Steve didn’t know much about nerdy things, but he would try. Dustin usually asked for rides to the arcade and the comic shop. He liked to see movies, preferably fantasy, sci-fi or horror. If planning a day out with Eddie was like carting Dustin around then it would be pretty easy. He started prepping the order they’d do things as they pulled up to Robin’s. She opened the back door and yawned while groaning. “Again?” She sighed.

“He picked me up first.” Dustin grinned back at her like an annoying little brother, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

Steve always felt at ease around these two. After sniping back and forth for a bit, they continued their discussion of Steve’s party they’d taken over planning themselves. Steve listened, while putting in his own thoughts, though his attention was more on his date with Eddie than the party. When they arrived at the school, Dustin hopped out of the car, but Steve turned back to stop Robin.

“Hey, can we talk real quick?” He asked.

She gave him a quizzical look but sat back down in the car seat and leaned forward to listen. “What’s up?”

“I am going on a date with Eddie today.”

Her face immediately split into a smile, the joy in her eyes unmistakable. “Oh my god! Seriously? Holy shit, you have to tell me everything.” She spoke a mile a minute, bouncing in her seat.

“Ok, ok, but I need your advice.”

“You, Steve Harrington, need my advice? About a date?”

“Yes, Robin, don’t make a big deal about this ok? I’m being vulnerable here.”

“Fine, what can I do for you?” she asked, suppressing her amused smile.

“I’ve never done the whole…gay date thing. I need to know if it’s any different than straight dating.”

“I don’t exactly have a lot of experience in that either, Steve. But…uh…I think it’s mostly the same. You just can’t be as touchy and flirty in public. It can’t look like a date, and no one is going to assume it’s a date like they would if you were with a girl. So, just…keep it lowkey I guess.”

“Yea, thanks. That’s actually good advice. I hadn’t even been thinking about that.”

“Glad to help.” She slapped him on the shoulder. “Anything else?”

“No not really. Though, now that I’ve asked out Eddie, you have to ask out Vickie.”

“Not gonna happen.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she rushed to get out of the car and slammed the door shut, speed walking away.

Steve had their day planned out down to the minute, but he was nervous. He’d always gotten a little anxious for first dates, but not like this. All the girls he’d gone out with over the years had similar interests to him. Similar tastes in movies and music and food. Nancy had been so easy to be with. He and Eddie were so different, and he didn’t want to mess this up. When he arrived back at the house Eddie was still asleep, which was fine. Steve wanted to properly prepare himself for the date, both mentally and physically. He knew what he’d wear on a date with a girl, but this was Eddie Munson. What did he have that would impress him?

He tried to be quiet going up the stairs, not wanting to wake him just yet. His dug out a pair of dark wash jeans and threw them on his bed. A band t-shirt would most likely be the best thing to impress Eddie, but he didn’t own any. He did, however, have a shirt that was gifted to him several months prior by his aunt after he’d mentioned that he’d enjoyed Nightmare on Elm Street. It depicted Freddie’s clawed hand reaching up from darkness with blood dripping from the blades. He typically wore it to sleep in, but it seemed appropriate and would likely be Eddie Munson approved. He finished it off with his dark grey jacket, which he draped over his arm to carry downstairs.

Steve went to the kitchen and pulled out eggs, sausage and frozen hash browns. What was better than starting their day with a nice big breakfast? Eddie had already been impressed by his cooking once so why not begin their date with a home cooked breakfast?

Steve was nearly finished when he heard a groggy yawn behind him. Eddie stood in the doorway to the kitchen in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers, his hair a bigger mess than usual.

“Smells good.” He mumbled, shuffling to the kitchen island, plopping into a stool and half laying on the countertop.

“Thanks. I thought it was good to start the day with some food, so we have energy.”

“Is that right? Energy for what exactly?” There was a teasing tone to his voice, but he didn’t lift his head from the counter.

“We’re going out.”

“Out?” Now he lifted his head. “Out is dangerous. Out has dumb jocks who want to bash my face in.” He gestured to his still rough looking wounds from a few days before.

“They’ll be in school, and we’ll be home before they even have a chance to leave campus.” It occurred to Steve that he said “home” and not “my house”. One confession later and he was already ready to move in together! Though the circumstances didn’t help.

“And if they skipped school to play ‘hunt the freak’ will you keep me safe?” He was back to teasing, a grin pulling at his lips.

Steve kept his back to him, focused on plating the food but also hiding whatever facial expression he was making as he was sure he looked stupid. “Yes, I’ll keep you safe from the big bad bullies.”

He joined Eddie at the island with the plates of food as Eddie poured himself a glass of orange juice Steve had already set out.

“I could live here forever if you keep feeding me like this.” Eddie said as he dug into his plate.

Steve’s mind drifted back to his earlier thought. He really didn’t want Eddie to go back to his place, but he knew it was for the best when he did. He couldn’t stay at his place forever. What would his parents say if they made an unexpected appearance? ‘Oh, hey mom and dad, this is Eddie, the guy who turned my sexuality upside down and I moved in while you were away’. Cause that would go over great.

“It’s kind of nice having someone to cook for.” Steve confessed. They’d talked the other night of his lonely dinners in the past, so it wasn’t a huge confession but still left Steve a bit vulnerable.

“When this is all over I’ll come over to eat as often as you’ll have me.”

Part of Steve wanted to say that when this was over he was hoping they’d be together already. Then Eddie could spend as much time at the Harrington house as he pleased, and Steve would never complain. Not that he would now, but officially dating would definitely be a nice bonus. In the mornings, Eddie would go to school and Steve would go to work and at the end of their days, they’d meet back here to have dinner and discuss how the day went. Then they’d spend the rest of the night together and end every night cuddled up in bed together. Yes, Steve realized that he was mentally moving Eddie in permanently again, but he liked the idea. Now that he’d admitted his feelings to himself, and to Eddie, he wanted him close by at all times. Maybe the desire to protect him heightened that want a bit, but regardless, it would still always be in the back of his mind.

Today was Steve’s chance to prove to Eddie that he wanted to be with him. The entire day was planned for Eddie with his interests in mind and he really hoped that he would appreciate that. Twice now they’d kissed and both times had been so brief. If things went well, Steve was hoping to end the night with a steamy make out session on the couch. Most of his relationships had started out physically before divulging into dates and such. He was so beyond out of his element here that he could barely see ten feet in front of him.

“So, where are we going?” Eddie asked as he rinsed his plate in the sink.

“That is a surprise.” Steve responded with a smile.

“I should have mentioned, I’m not a big fan of surprises.”

“Too bad. Go get ready.” Steve didn’t look at Eddie as he continued to clean the mess from breakfast. He only knew he left the room because of his grumbling about not wanting to end up at the hair store.

By the time Steve was done cleaning, Eddie was coming back down the stairs, dressed for the day in his usual attire. After slipping on his boots, and complaining a bit more about not liking surprises, Eddie willingly followed Steve out to his car. They drove into town and Eddie couldn’t suppress the desire to hide. Sure, Jason and his cronies were meant to be in school, but that didn’t mean they were. For all they knew, they’d all skipped to hunt Eddie down and be done with him once and for all. He found himself scanning the streets for any sign of green letterman jackets. The car pulled to a stop in a parking lot and Eddie didn’t fully register that they’d arrived somewhere until Steve shut off the car.

“Fire stop.” Steve said happily, opening the car door and sliding out.

Eddie followed him out, looking up at the building in disbelief. “The comic shop? Since when do you read comics?”

“I used to when I was younger. It’s been a minute though. I thought we could browse for a bit any maybe you can turn me on to something I'd like.”

Eddie’s eyebrows were high on his forehead as he followed Steve to the door. The usually smell of ink and paper wafted over them as they entered the small shop. Eddie immediately went to browse and find new volumes for his collection. He’d been collecting for years but didn’t have many, only buying the ones he felt he couldn’t live without. There wasn’t much space in the trailer and they’d be overrun if he bought everything he’d wanted over the years. Steve browsed less enthusiastically but took the time to look through the boxes of comics for anything that might catch his eye.

He used to be partial to Spiderman but his dad had thrown all his comics away when he decided he was too old to read about superheroes. Steve had waited until he was alone to cry and mourn the loss of the hero he’d looked up to. But according to his dad, men didn’t read comics and fantasize about heroes. Yet here was Eddie, an adult man looking at the comics with stars in his eyes, all excitement and joy and Steve loved it. He loved that something so simple could make Eddie so happy. He wished he’d been allowed to hang onto that joy. Maybe if Steve hadn’t been forced to “grow up” he and Eddie could have been friends earlier in life. Steve shook the thoughts of his dad and lost youthful joy from his head, not wanting to focus on something that just made him sad and angry. He wanted to enjoy this day, and, more importantly, he wanted Eddie to enjoy it. Neither would if he was moping all day.

They spent a good hour combing over all the boxes and chatting with the owner. By the time they left, Eddie had a bag nearly filled to the brim with new comics and couldn’t stop chattering about the stories. Steve listened happily and asked questions to better understand. So far, Eddie seemed to be enjoying the day he planned.

“Don’t mind if I ditch you tonight to do some reading.” The joy in Eddie’s voice was unmistakable as he inspected his purchases on the drive to the next location.

“I’ll try not to take it personally.” He joked. “We’re almost to the next stop.”

“I don’t know how you can beat the first one.” Eddie beamed.

Steve said nothing as to not give away any hints. A laugh bubbled out of Eddie’s chest when they pulled into the arcade parking lot. “The arcade?” He asked.

“The arcade.” Steve confirmed.

“I can’t imagine you coming here.”

“I used to as a kid. I’ll have you know I had the high score on several of the games in there.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Prove it.” Eddie repeated. “I want to see if you actually have any gaming skill or if you’re bluffing.”

“It’s been like four years. I’m not sure I’m any good anymore. The most I’ve played is the pinball machine at the pizza place.”

“Don’t you know anything about muscle memory?”

“Not really.”

“Well, lets get in there and see what you’ve got, big boy.”

Steve flushed at the nickname as Eddie winked at him and climbed out of the car, leaving him dazed. He scrambled to follow after him. Inside was fairly quiet, given most of its usual occupants were in school. A few older game enthusiasts were scattered about, as well as the occasional kid ditching school to hide out here. Steve remembered those days rather fondly. Except for the screaming match with his dad afterward for skipping school.

They started on Space Invaders, playing two player side by side, occasionally knocking shoulders. Steve was definitely rusty but didn’t do too bad. He definitely ran out of lives before Eddie though. They made their way around the arcade, sampling different games and burning through quarters. Pac-Man, Dig Dug, Donkey Kong and more. They played until their fingers were numb from pushing buttons rapidly and their eyes stung from staring at the screens. When they emerged from the arcade hours later, the suddenly light nearly blinded them.

“Ugh. Too bright.” Steve groaned, squinting and putting his hand above his eyes.

“Yea, you never do get used to that.” Eddie sighed.

They made their way to the car, half blinded, and sat for a minute until their eyes adjusted to the change it light without pain. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry again.” Steve said when he finally started the car.

“I could go for some food.” Eddie agreed.

“Alright, food and then out final stop for the day.”

“Wait, there’s more?” Eddie asked in near disbelief.

“There’s more.”

Eddie stared at the side of his face as they drove through town looking for a good place to eat. He’d told Steve to prove himself, but he hadn’t expected him to start off so strong. He had effectively made Eddie forget about all his problems for a few hours, and for that he was grateful.

“Surprisingly,” Eddie started, turning his gaze to the front window, “I’m actually having a really good time.”

“You didn’t expect to?” Steve asked almost nervously.

“Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. I figured you’d plan a fancy lunch date or tickets to some sports game.”

“I would enjoy going to ‘some sports game’ but today was for you and the things you like.” After a long pause, Steve spoke again. “I’m having more fun than I thought I might.”

“Really?” Eddie asked.

“Yea. I liked this stuff as a kid, but I wasn’t allowed to enjoy any of it after I entered high school. I was suddenly 'too old’ for all that stuff.”

“How can you be too old to have fun?”

“Ask my dad.” Steve hadn’t wanted those memories to ruin the day, yet here he was blurting it all our anyway.

Eddie was quiet for a moment, thinking before he spoke. “I think you’re old enough now to rediscover the things you think are fun.” He said thoughtfully, before following it with, “Like kissing hot metal heads.” He grinned and Steve couldn’t help a surprised laugh.

“That’s definitely not something my dad would approve of, but fuck him. It is fun.” Steve’s spirits were lifted once more as they pulled up the diner.

After a lunch of burgers, fries and shakes, Steve drove them to the last location on his list. The movie theater. Steve’s taste in movies had grown exponentially since he started working at Family Video. Most days there wasn’t much to do but watch endless movies. Though he and Robin critiquing them afterwards was always fun. Regardless, Steve had always been indifferent to horror films. They were fine. He’d watch them occasionally and enjoyed them, hence the Freddie shirt. But he never tended to choose them for himself. Eddie, on the other hand, seemed to love horror films. So Steve had checked the paper that morning and found out a new film was at the little theater in town.

They bought their tickets and drinks, too full for popcorn, and found some seats in the back of the theater. Only a few other people filtered in before the movie started. There wasn’t much of a market for horror films in the middle of a Wednesday. Still, they played them anyway for the few that would come for the earlier showing before it got too crowded in the evening.

They sat quietly for most of the movie, though they did occasionally laugh and once or twice may have jumped a little. About half way through, Steve felt Eddie’s arm bumps his on the middle armrest, which they’d been sharing up to this point. Steve stole a glance at him, wondering if he needed more room, and found Eddie staring back at him.

“This movie is kind of dumb.” Eddie whispered.

“Yea, sorry, I thought it would be scarier.” Steve apologized.

“It’s fun though. Watching it with you.”

Steve felt his skin flush as he dumbly nodded his head. “Me too. I mean, I’m having fun watching it with you.”

Eddie briefly turned his eyes back to the screen, keeping his body angled toward Steve, before turning his attention back to him. “Usually, I feel like dates go to the movies to make out in the dark.” He grinned.

“Oh…I wasn’t…I didn’t even think about that. I just thought you’d like this movie and…” Steve trailed off as Eddie place his hand on the back of his head and pulled him to meet him in the middle. Their lips collided and Steve unconsciously reached out to grip the front of Eddie’s shirt. He eyes flutter closed as Eddie kissed him the way he had the first time in Steve’s room. Except, this time when Steve felt his tongue at his lips, he didn’t push Eddie away, he pulled him closer.

Steve had kissed plenty of girls in his life, and it had been nice, but never once had it felt like this. Like he couldn’t get enough. He was on the verge of climbing over the arm rest separating their seats and onto Eddie’s lap just to get that much closer. He tasted like soda, sweet and something else. Every nerve ending in his body was set alight and all he could focus on was lips and tongues as they rolled together. It was reckless to kiss like this in public, even in the dark and with so few people around, but neither seemed to care. When they finally did part, lips wet and eyes glossy, they exchanged wordless communication before abruptly standing and leaving the movie theater behind.

#Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Stranger Things #Ro writes

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fruggo · 3 years

Note

Hello ! I saw the enemies fo lovers things and I wanna request if possible

“ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

With frank if you would and thank you

yessirrr i love frank sm it’s not ok. also umm i may have accidentally written friends to enemies to lovers or something idk. and though i wouldnt necessarily call you friends at the start, you werent really enemies yet???? idk🐸just ummm yeh i love frank

also help how do i not go overboard???? i feel like i made this way too long, please help and i am sorry

warnings: canon-typical violence, swearing, frank being a bastard but then you’re like awwww he’s a cute bastard aaaaw

Things were weird with Frank, and they always had been from the moment you stepped foot in the Entity’s realm. He always tunneled you relentlessly, and that made you think of him as a big asshole, but there were some strange details tacked onto the sentiment that greatly confused you, should you think about it for more than three seconds.

Sometimes, it seemed like he went easy on you in chases, like he put in no effort. He would chase you for a while, let you waste his time, and then leave without even getting a hit on you when he definitely had the ability to.

And you hated saying this, but when he handled you, it almost felt…gentle. Granted, he was a killer, and his job was to murder you, but your experiences with him did not quite line up with those of the other survivors.

They always described trials against Frank as “stepping on legos in the middle of the night” or something akin to that. You never felt like that, though—when he chased you, it felt fair. Almost as if he played nice with you. And more often than not, the killer would let you go when he caught you. The reason remained a mystery to you until quite a bit later.

This trial, Frank was in 100% bastard mode. You had begun to think of his trials as quite easy due to his seemingly calm nature around you, so you were rather caught off guard when he downed you in the first 30 seconds of the match and tossed you onto a hook, no gentleness whatsoever.

You wanted to yell at him and ask what the fuck was wrong with him until you realized this was his fucking job, and this is how he should have been treating you all along. Maybe you had just been imagining it all, but you could have sworn he used to leave you alone more than this. Something just felt different.

After you were unhooked, he went for you again. And again. And then you were dead, completely wiped out of the trial. Frank had demolished you with no remorse.

You knew it was silly to feel betrayed, but you really couldn’t help it. In such an insane and hellish place, anything that could be even remotely perceived as kindness seemed like so much more of a big deal than it truly was. So Frank’s supposed “gentleness” with you had felt somewhat like a friend doing you a selfless favor. Of course, it was not a selfless favor, and it was certainly nowhere near kindness, because he was still a killer chasing you with a knife, but your standards had really lowered in this place.

After that trial, you were back to hating Frank for tunneling and bullying you (like you probably should). You began to understand the survivors’ saying about the legos—and you hoped that Frank would step on some legos too, because he fucking sucked sometimes.

And for a while, that’s just how it was. You nearly forgot how he used to go easier on you, and how you used to do okay in his matches. Now every time you were pit against each other it just felt like you were being stuck with a bunch of pins; you never had any time to breathe or rest or do literally anything. He just went after you until you were gone, and there was next to nothing you could do about it.

Everything changed very suddenly during a trial at Ormond.

You were expecting the same old routine with this asshole—chase, blah blah blah, die. You hardly had energy to fight back anymore.

So when he arrived out of breath at the killer shack, somehow knowing you would be here, Frank was surprised to find you relaxing under the window with your arms loosely crossed, a disapproving scowl upon your countenance. It was enough to make him hesitate in his tracks.

You let out a deep breath, refusing to break eye contact with his mask; you kept up that menacing frown for as long as you could, trying to make him feel guilty (who knows if it was even possible for him to feel guilty? But it was worth a try).

“Just kill me,” you said, voice steady and seemingly unbothered. Underneath the surface, you were trembling, but you stood your ground. “That’s what you’re gonna do, isn’t it? You’re going to chase me until I’m miserable and kill me off as soon as you can?”

Frank went still, not even fidgeting with his knife like he usually did; he was intrigued by your sudden confidence.

You went on. “I’m really sick and tired of you, you know that? I’m sick of you and your bullshit. Why can’t you treat me like everybody else? At first, you went easy on me. Now you just torture me with your stupid mind games, and frankly, I’m sick of playing! I’m done with you—I don’t care anymore! Just kill me, and I’ll get out of your way, okay asshole? Mori me if you want. I don’t give a shit.”

You put your hands up exasperatedly, fully expecting him to take the offer and just send you back to the campfire right then and there. But the man sighed, pocketed his knife, and sat down right next to you as if this were a normal thing for him to do.

You scooted a few inches away out of instinct. Frank noticed, but he chose not to say a word about it.

It was a long time before he said anything, and when he finally did, you wanted to punch him so bad.

“It’s complicated,” he mumbled. And that was all.

Oh, yeah? It was complicated? You scoffed, hanging your head with a bitter smile. “Oh, okay. Sure.”

Silence again.

Awkward, suffocating silence.

And then Frank got up and left. You were unbothered for the remainder of the trial, not even a scratch or bruise on your body.

Sometimes you simply did things, and you didn’t know why. This thing that you just did was irrational, stupid, unplanned, unwise, and everything in-between, and you knew it was, but frequently you just had no impulse control. Perhaps it was the Entity’s influence, or maybe you had always been this way—you couldn’t really remember.

How did you get here again? Why were you laying on the ground? And why did your leg hurt so fucking much?

Oh, yes. Yes, yes, you remember now.

Funnily enough, it seems as though the Entity, along with certain killers, did not like it when survivors tried to enter their side of the forest! But you did it anyways, and it appeared that you had suffered the consequences. It’s not like you had put much thought into it; where was the point in that when nothing mattered anymore and you were stuck in an endless cycle of death?

You remembered entering the killer’s woods, looking around, and doing…something. What was that something? You couldn’t be sure, but then you remembered somebody coming up to you and probably definitely hurting you. Yep, your leg definitely was in a lot of pain. You couldn’t even look at it. Did you pass out for a while? Maybe. How long were you out for?

You lay still there for a while, thinking. Man, it really hurt, and boy, were you miserable. Maybe more miserable than you’d ever felt here. The Entity normally healed wounds immediately, but perhaps you had just angered it so much you deserved to suffer.

Oh, dear! You seemed to be passing out at this time. Yes, that was almost certainly what was happening. Black spots danced across your eyes as your body began to feel distant and numb, but you didn’t feel very worried about it. In fact, you felt like making jokes right now, but you had nobody to make jokes to and you probably couldn’t even speak.

Just as you began to accept it, there was a strange thumping sensation vibrating through the ground growing closer…and closer…

Footsteps! That’s good!

Oh. Not if it’s a killer. That’s not good, probably.

But you had no way of protesting when you felt yourself being picked up, because those black spots in your eyes were dancing a lot faster now, perhaps something akin to an Irish jig, and you also couldn’t feel your limbs.

Then you were fast asleep again, dreaming of Irish dancers who were actually big fluffy cloud people wearing leprechaun clothes. Nobody but you would ever know this, and it was going to stay that way.

On the bright side, it made it a lot easier for your rescuer to carry you to safety like this.

When you awoke once more, you were horrified to find yourself in the Ormond lodge of all places. You knew immediately what had happened and were determined to escape as soon as possible.

Your injured leg proved to be a huge problem, however, and you collapsed the second you attempted to find freedom. Trying again, you collapsed once more, and probably maimed yourself further in the process.

Hearing the commotion from the second floor, your least favorite member of The Legion descended down from the main stairs, refusing to look directly at you even as he scooped you up and plunked you (gently) back onto the couch, which was rather comfortable (not that you would ever tell him that).

So he was playing it cool, huh?

Okay. You could play it cool, too. You were cool. Smooth as butter.

No. You really couldn’t be cool in a situation like this, and plus, your mind was still a little woohoo since whatever accident had occurred. Suddenly you blurted out, “Frank, I hate your guts.”

And he had the audacity to laugh. He laughed at you! He did the man chuckle thing, as if what you were saying was funny. No! You were completely serious! You did hate his guts!

Perhaps your face showed how upset you were, because he started to apologize (still laughing).

“Maybe you should go back to sleep,” Frank said after calming down a bit.

No. You couldn’t go back to sleep. You did not want to experience dancing cloud people dressed as leprechauns ever again in your life, for the rest of eternity. Never again.

So you shook your head violently, refusing to give an explanation, which just provoked Frank to anger all of a sudden. If you went back to sleep, he could have some alone time while the rest of The Legion was gone. He kept pushing, and you kept resisting, and he pushed and you resisted, until finally he gave up and let you off with a warning. If you made him mad again, he was throwing you out in the snow.

Fine with me, you said. Okay, I’ll do it right now, he said. No balls, you said.

So then Frank casually went to scoop you up in his arms again, and you started to freak out and beat your hands against his chest until he put you back down. He was was awfully mindful of your hurt leg for someone who was about to throw you into the snow.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—please don’t throw me out,” you fussed. You thought he wouldn’t actually do it. You didn’t know it, but you were right—he was just messing with you because it was funny seeing you scared.

After a bit more griping back and forth, Frank began to grow concerned about your leg. He didn’t know how to bring up the topic because things were so odd between the two of you; this was your first interaction since the brief encounter in the shack. But he swallowed his pride, because the wound seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

“Hey, do you want me to, uhh…get some supplies?” Frank asked awkwardly. When you didn’t understand, he continued, “Your leg? It looks like it hurts…I could fix it if you want.”

You barked out a laugh at his words, unbelieving of this shift in attitude. “Rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago,” you snickered, genuinely finding it amusing.

Frank took offense. He was trying to be nice for once, and you thought it was funny. And his situation really was complex, whether you chose to believe it or not. Maybe he should just tell you to get it off of his chest.

“Listen,” he said, voice laced with seriousness. “When I told you things were complicated, I meant it.”

Sensing the mood change from his tone and body language, you stopped smiling and decided to pay attention to him. Just this once. Never again. After this you could go back to hating him.

Frank continued. “The Entity was going to start…well, hurting me, if I didn’t start doing better in trials. I really didn’t want to sacrifice you, which is embarrassing to admit, but I’ll say it. And I don’t think it liked that.”

You were surprised. And also relieved that you had been right all along—he had been going easy on you at first.

“Why me, though?” you asked, confused. “Why wouldn’t you want to sacrifice me? What about the other survivors?”

If the slight tilt of his head at your question didn’t answer it for you, the way he started tapping his feet and cracking his knuckles so nervously did.

Boy, if looks could kill, you would have died instantly at the scowl Frank sent your way; you grinned pridefully at the realization that this man was down bad. You couldn’t see the expression behind his mask, though, which Frank was thankful for.

He hated every second of this, but you loved it. You reveled in his embarrassment.

Leaning forward on your hands, you begged, “Tell me more! I want to hear all about your feelings for me.”

“I could stab you right now, you know that?”

“But you won’t. You liiiiike me!”

“What are you, eight years old?”

“No, but I am severely injured and have lost a lot of blood so I am not necessarily in the right headspace at the moment.”

“You make a fair point.”

“So tell me! What’s your favorite thing about me?”

“Your ass.”

“No, really.”

“Okay, your ass and your hair.”

“You know what, Frank, I still hate your guts.”

“No, you don’t.”

You paused for a moment. It was probably the blood loss talking, you decided later, but you said, “No. Maybe I don’t.”

#:) i kinda rly like this ahaha it was fun #i hope it’s okay <3 #fruggo writes #requests #enemies to lovers prompt #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #the legion x reader #the legion #dbd x reader #dbd oneshot #dbd writing #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd frank

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nevertheless-moving · 3 years

Text

INFODUMP AU continued

(Star Wars AU #22)

Possible Continuations from INFODUMP. I headcanon that exchange taking place about a year before episode II and episode IV

A) Anakin Force Shenanigans

Anakin walks up: “master- who’s this guy?

“You can SEE him/me?”

Obi-Wan urgently cry/yelling at Anakin to either wear a condom with Padme or at least take her to a healer if you’re worried about her pregnancy (seriously healer BEFORE evil sith wtf)

(its been a number of years for Ben so he’s pretty much puzzled out the ‘doing this for padme’ bit)

just before obi-wan fades out anakin panics because ben hasn’t told him how he gets together with padme

yanks him into this timeline and now Old Ben has to deal with Obi-Wan and Anakin freaking out over all the info he just vomited at them AND everything else

B) Brush Off

Obi-Wan practices some good old fashioned repression to mostly convince himself it was all a weird dream

yoda always says in motion, the future is anyway

he mostly puts it out of his head until a year later when Anakin VERY obliquely references having dreams of his mother

“...what kind of dreams, exactly?”

end-up rescuing Shmi shortly after her capture, Obi-Wan’s there to make sure Anakin doesn’t go off the deep end

Council is a little disapproving of their side mission because now Anakin is even more attached/devoted Obi-Wan

Obi-Wan is a LITTLE freaked out but Shmi being in danger isn’t exactly a hard prediction to make considering they left her on Tatooine but...

almost immediately after they get specially requested to protect Senator Amidala.

things proceed like canon and when Dex says the dart is from Kamino, Obi-Wan has a little panic attack attack

the whole trip to Kamino he’s just thinking pleasenoclonearmy pleasenoclonearmy pleasenoawFUCK THAT’S A CLONE ARMY

good news here is when he’s bullshitting his way through the meeting/ inspection he very confidently brings up removing the control chips

at first there’s some hemming and hawing ‘oh you mean the inhibitor chips, are you sure you want them removed we’ve already installed them’

“I DEMAND they be removed- I- can i speak to your manger? Do I need to take my business elsewhere??”

Nala Se is very reluctant, “I was ensured by certain high level parties that the chips were intended to be an important safeguard...”

*Obi-Wan sweating, but all-in at this point* “Well, uh, Master Dooku and Chancellor Palpatine themselves told me they were concerned about the chips being abused by the wrong parties, and sent me to supervise, so,”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were read-in on the project architecture to that extent, well here are our options-”

Obi-Wan still chases to Jango to Genosis because he’s got a mission and ‘this might as well happen’

Still gets captured in that stupid rotating energy field by Dooku

“What if I told you the senate was now controlled by a dark lord of the sith?”

“...I would say that I would be very interested in any holo-recordings or legal documents you might have to that effect”

“oh?”

“would very much like some sort of proof to bring before a court of law, yeah.”

The rescue attempt actually goes well this time! Anakin is well rested and practically glowing after his week-long all-expense paid vacation at Varykino

They all manage to escape and intercept reinforcement mid-flight

The council is pleased Obi-Wan is safe and not surprised to find Anakin there, but it doesn’t really change their mission as the senate has ordered them to take out the federation army before they can attack...

“The Senate ordered it?”

“Yes, much has happened, while gone you were. Were given to the chancellor, emergency powers. Drafted a military, he has. Generals, the Jedi have been made. Uneasy we are, but serve the senate, we do.”

“Oh kark, the Chancellor ordered it? We DEFINITELY can not invade.” Obi-Wan's starting to have another panic attack, not sure how to get out of the sith trap

Anakin’s a little offended. “Obi-Wan! The Chancellor is a good man; the Jedi must do this, for the good of -”

“PALPATINE’S A SITH LORD”

“what”

C) He tries, ok? (inspired by @ourhitofsucrose )

Very similar to B except for the full year between the ‘vision’ and aotc, Obi-Wan is desperately trying to follow the future’s warnings but failing hysterically

kamino and genosis have both erased from the archives and it doesn’t occur to him to ask dex so he doesn’t even have a direction to go on

tries to find some proof about Palpatine but he is a sneaky bastard

tries to separate palpatine from anakin but he’s like I’M AN ADULT NOW YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO

tentatively brings up Dooku falling ‘in a vision’ to the council because that is something they can check up on- Yoda gets really offended

‘garbage planet on the outer rim’ is not a lot to go on

when he tries to get help searching because he knows that the sith who killed Qui-Gon is still alive and planning to kill his ex-girlfriend even Anakin is like... ‘ok buddy, i think you might be under too much stress, maybe we should visit the healers...”

best he can do for Shmi is leaving her an emergency beacon

A+ success in relationship repair with Anakin tho! through the application of a very awkward hug and a mumbled “you know I love you, right?”

Anakin drags him to the healers immediately, and after a drug test and an overnight stay finally responds by bursting into tears and ugly crying on Obi-Wan’s robes because “YOU’RE A FATHER TO ME BUT I THOUGHT YOU HAATED ME”

Obi-Wan is uncomfortably patting him on the back “Of course I don’t hate you! You’re my padawan! Why would you think that?”

Then when Shmi activates her emergency comm the same night Anakin has his first nightmare about his Mom and they fly to her rescue he’s even more OBI-WAN 5EVER than canon or scenario B because

“You...checked in on my mom?? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry Anakin, I knew the council wouldn’t approve...”

hugs Anakin again since that is the only piece of advice he can follow from his future self and he just thinks ‘well its a long shot but hopefully this is enough to prevent any lava planet incidents’

it is

Seriously in this version of events Anakin actively RESISTS being knighted because he was already obsessed with Obi-Wan in canon and now with hugs + verbal affection + protecting Mom proactively he is ALL IN FOR OBI NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN

low-key ruins palpatine’s plans by itself because now when he tries to drive a wedge between them with his bullshit ‘your master doesn’t truly trust you’ Anakin gets huffy and responds with a space powerpoint presentation

i mean other stuff is going to go down once we get to the armies but already the stage is set for him to go running to Obi-Wan the minute he has a nightmare about Padme dying and him responding “J. Force Christ, lets just... go to a healer, fuck’s sake Anakin I hope it doesn’t need to be said but do NOT turn to the darkside over this”

canon would definitely diverge before that point but its also very funny to me to imagine RotS playing out more or less the same but when he gets to Palpatine’s big offer he just goes ‘sorry dad told me no’

#star wars #my au #INFODUMP au #star wars au no 22 #star wars au

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tumblingdowntheway2019 · 3 years

Text

Sleepless Nights, Part One (1).

Heelloooo my beautiful pps, how are we all today? Back again with another Head-Canon. 💪😎💕

So this one is when Donna is adopted by Lady Dimitriscu as a new daughter. This is based on the wonderful @charlottefairchildbranwell's story based on a couple of my Head-Canons. Go check check her out, charlottefairchildbranwell wrote some amazing and entertaining stories for them! Here is a link to one of them.

WARNING: BELOW THE CUT, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN TRIGGERS, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION/PTSD/PANIC ATTACKS/GORE, CHILD TRAUMA, TRAUMATIC EVENTS, ETC.

I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT WRITING THESE THINGS, BUT EVEN THEN IT'S BETTER TO WARN YOU.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

With that said, let's begin. Sorry in advance.

😭🙏

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V.

It had been over a year since Donna started living in Castle Dimitrescu. A full year since Mother Miranda's reign had come to an end.

Things have been going so well for the Doll Maker. She gained more confidence, can hold a conversation with her family and even the Winters' Family without the aid of Angie anymore.

The Lady of the Castle however, began noticing something strange happening with Donna lately. It was small things, but they became more noticeable as of late.

Donna has been more sluggish in her movements, making small and silly mistakes in her everyday tasks and had been spotted dozing off whilst in the middle of tasks or activities.

Lady Dimitrescu tried to ask many times if she was ok, but Donna has been dodging the questions. Her daughters and Angie noted that she was unable to sleep a full night the past few days, but hasn't explained why.

The fact that Angie doesn't have that usual strong mental connection to her closest friend is worrying. But Angie had mentioned at the beginning that these happen occasionally and it will pass soon enough.

DONNA'S P.O.V

It's happening again, she knew it was too good to be true. The nightmares are back with a vengeance.

Donna deliberately severed most of her connection with Angie as to not draw attention to herself. She hates it.

Those nightmares, no, memories? She can't tell now. They are just too real to tell.

The Doll Maker doesn't know what triggered this, but she didn't want to worry her family.

She tried to act normal in order to to fend off any suspicion, but she was just so tired. Mistakes over simple tasks have been more noticeable.

Naps are too and far between during the day. The Bat Trio had been trying to cheer her up, Donna's been doing her best to keep them happy. It was a good distraction for a while.

Unfortunately, the nightmares had been making sure that Donna didn't forget in the waking world.

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V

Lady Dimitriscu had been keeping a closer eye on her daughter. Made sure to be close by should anything happen.

She observed that Donna has been flinching at random shadows or reflections, dozing off with book in hand, nearly dropping it as she jerked herself up and shaking her head.

Something's wrong, but Donna won't speak about it and won't be forced to.

It had been like any other night, Angie decided to join in on a sleepover with the Bat Trio in the Dungeons.

They wanted to tell scary stories and those particular dungeons was always warm enough for them to stay down there.

It had been in the middle of the night, The Lady had been reading one of the many books, ones that she had read many times before.

She was about to turn the oil lantern off when the sound of breaking glass caused her hand to freeze just inches from the dial.

Sharpening her sense, Alcina close her eyes to allow her to focus more on her hearing.

Quiet hitches of breathing was heard.

DONNA'S P.O.V

The Doll Maker woke with a start, it hasn't even been an hour yet. She couldn't even hold onto Angie as she allowed the Bride Doll to go hang out with Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

It felt all too real. It started off pleasant enough. Donna was in House Beneviento again, opening the door revealed her mother in a rocking chair, knitting.

Donna approached her, hesitant to reach out to the unaware woman.

A call of another girl caught their attention. They look up to see a teenage girl, who was the spitting image of a younger Donna.

"Bernadette?" She quietly says.

Bernadette comes skipping down, unaware of her younger sister's presence as she skips down the stairs and through Donna, as if she were made of mist.

Donna turns to see Bernadette skip off to meet her friends in the village. Their mother calling after her to be sure to return home before the sun begins to set.

In her near forgotten instinct, The Doll Maker silently makes her way to the elevator.

When she entered the elevator, the button was level with her elbow. Something that came in handy as she was always carrying materials that requires both hands to hold.

The elevator reached the basement, she found that everything was bigger than before.

As she walked down the hallway, Donna barely caught her reflection off the glass cabinet. The bottom of the glass was just at eye level.

Upon looking at her reflection, a young girl stared back with her two (2) dark brown eyes. She was a little girl again, maybe no older than seven (7) years old?

She continued to the end of the hallway and through one of the double doors and found her father hunched over one of his latest creations.

Donna knew what was about to happen next, it didn't surprise her any more. She begins to back away as her father slowly sets down his tools.

"Why?" He hoarsely croaked out as dripping sounds were heard. "Why did you do this to us?"

Donna tried to push against the shut door with all her might, but her small frame barely made it budge.

She looked over her shoulder, gasping and began to shake as her father's bloated corpse stood up slowly, movements strongly resembling a puppet being pulled by their strings.

Small waterfalls were coming through the walls and ceiling as father trudged through the ankle deep water.

With one final charge, Donna finally burst through the door and makes a bee-line toward the elevator. The water rising all around her.

Streams of water burst through the ceiling in many spots. Some appearing with such force in front of her that Donna nearly lost her footing on a few occasions.

Her father close behind in his pursuits as the water appeared to allow him to glide in the rising water.

The water was now at the young girl's knees by the time she reached the elevator.

How did the button get so high up?!

After many frantic attempts, Donna successfully jumps up and up against the elevator's wall to press the button.

The grated door shuts, her father's blue, bloated corpse stared at her with angry bloodshot eyes as he slammed and pulled against the grate.

The water descending and emptying the higher the elevator went. Leaving behind a mostly soaked to the bones Donna.

The elevator dutifully opens on the ground floor, Donna reluctantly steps out. The Doll Maker once again knows what's coming next as she trekked through the hallway.

Opening the door to the Living Room, she found her Mother, standing and looking at the ground with a sharpened out knitting needles in each hand.

Eyes filled with rage look up at her as her mother raises her head, voiceless as her mother's mouth moved. But she heard it so many times before that Donna knew what she was saying.

"Your fault."

Barely able to dodge the sudden attack, Donna sprints to the front door. Last obstacle.

Bernadette, now aged twenty-one (21) was now blocking the entrance.

END OF PART ONE (1)

_____________________

Edit: Heyo pps, edited some errors, finished the last point and took away the extra blank ones to helps space it out better. Tags were also added in.

A/N - You guys are gonna laugh, I didn't intend on posting this until later. I accidentally posted it before the last point (Bernadette being at the entrance) was done and no tags. 🤣🤣

But I am glad I did, however. Cause this would have been so much longer and I didn't want to bore you guys with so many points. So a part two (2) will be out later on, either tonight or tomorrow. 🤔 Sorry about that. 🤣

Hope you all enjoyed Part One (1) of 'Sleepless Nights.'

Remember, if you wish to use this or the ideas/H.Cs mentioned above, you are always free to do so under the conditions that you credit back to this and myself. That and to please tag me when you are done because I would love to see how it was able to help you out in your stories/art!!

💪😎💕

Hope you all have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening my lovelies!💪😎💕

Part Two (2) linked here! 💕🥰💕

#donna beneviento #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #video games #angie beneviento #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #headcanon #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #family dynamic #angst

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finnoky · 3 years

Note

AU where pascal didnt save varian in time and andrew dropped him in Rapunzel's return? :3

•| Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts |•

Oh god anon, right out the gate with the angst... I like your style. BUT ALSO THESE WONT BE FUN FACTS CBDJDBX.

TW: Character Injury

1) I'm gonna say that Pascals little thing is delayed — that by the time to thwacks Andrew, Varian has already been dropped + Andrew sorta... Falls overboard just after him. Rapunzel heard Varian yelling for help, and fought the other Saporians off, but by the time she makes it to the boat edge he's just... Gone. Without a trace. She's so panicked she doesn't notice the balloon lines getting slashed until it's too late... Seeing Andrew gives her some hope — girl works out how to lift the ship out of explosion range from the town + Yadda Yadda canon stuff hair goes glow, Rapunzel saves the town all sunshine and rainbows.

2) Boyo landed on a roof in Corona — alive but VERY injured, no one is sure he's actually gonna make it. Rapunzel is horrified the bubble thing didn't work for him which I'm putting down to Varian just not having the reaction time to DO that, at least to himself. But he's not dead. Civilians got him down and were debating what to do with him until Rapunzel came along and made them try help. At least then if he doesn't make it they tried their best; Boy is still awake, though not responding to anything [Cue Eugene arriving to Raps cradling Varian close + singing the healing incantation]

3) Rapunzel gets the fun time of dealing with what she could have done better and starts overworking herself trying to balance everything — it's hard work, she has to deal with her parents, recovering Corona, Cass' betrayal and Varians injuries. She can't bring herself to visit him though she clears his criminal record and assures he won't be going back to prison.

She can't bring herself to visit Varian — she frees Quirin but Eugene has to explain what happened BC she keeps breaking down into tears, she's horrified she sacrificed a friend for her kingdom and it's just. A lot.

She focuses on the kingdom first — it feels good to see herself making progress and the civilians are nice. Eugene catches her standing at the infirmary door most nights... And she suffers a lot as she tries to stay happy and positive. Drives people away by her determination to keep going.

4) Varian suffers a lot™ and is unconscious for days. His main visitors are Eugene and Quirin, with Lance who usually sits with him. It's a miracle he's alive, though he's far from unscathed [A broken arm, brain injury that leaves his memory spotty] and worst of all... A broken back + a spinal injury that leaves him without any feeling in his legs.

Though the injuries are bad he's doing ok! They're devastating, and he shuts off for a while. When Quirin returns is the first time he really reacts to anything, but from there there's progress. He gets help he needs. Assurance he's been cleared of crimes — Eugene forms a good friendship with him, but... Rapunzel still hasn't visited, and no one really explains Cass to him.

Honestly? Quirin is impressed by how Var draws up blue prints for wheelchairs and supports as soon as he can sit up for long enough. There's tough times... But he resolves to see it as a challenge, he needs a wheelchair or something so he can go back to work and start making it up to the people of Corona. After a couple of months he moves back to Old Corona with Eugene issuing him the Demanitus scroll to try translate

5) Whilst Varian starts improving, Rapunzel has managed to get most the castle repaired & shines as a Queen — though that's just on the outside. Cass' betrayal is still fresh, as is the guilt of Varian. Eugene tries to convince her to visit but it's too much. She's sure he's broken beyond repair and is terrified of that.

Eventually... She has to, she goes to Old Corona convinced that her friend will still be bitter and bedridden, only to be greeted by an explosion coming from the lab. Runs in panic. Sees Varian grinning to himself over some new formula. Asks what he's doing, Varian awkwardly explains... There's some tension and mostly exchanging pleasantries. Until Rapunzel finally apologizes — and once she starts she can't stop.

Rapunzel rants and raves about everything — how the kingdom is a mess, how Cass betrayed her, how she felt so bad because she thought HE died and she couldn't protect him. She's so sick of everyone else doing well while she feels like she's shattering to pieces.

That's when Varian speaks up. He gets the chance to explain all his frustrations in full — how now his life is changed forever, how he felt betrayed and bad and that Rapunzel still couldn't face him for what he'd done! He hasn't told dad or Eugene but of course he's struggling to... And it's just a sorta level they can connect on. They both struggle admitting they need help... And that things are far from perfect.

After that conversation is easier. Their friendship starts getting better + become good advisors to each other, Varian taking Cass' place as Raps' advisor / confidant and Varian getting the chance to feel like he is working on getting better.

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

These... Are long points but I didn't want bad end. I think rest of canon works — BVA happens in a similar way + Cassandra's Revenge is Cass stealing his wheelchair tho she's more aware of being the bad guy. Worries Varians replacing her which makes her a bit bitter and regret it less. I'm not sure about the finale? He could get healed, but honestly Varian doesn't feel the need to be healed — he's adjusted, and can still use his hands.

IF he did get healed he'd still need months of reablitation afterwards and still rely on a wheelchair a lot! It's not just a snap and fixed. Either way he gets a lot of love and support, and it deepens his bond with Punzie

#anon #Tangled AU #AU #AU ASK game #varian #tts au #tts #Rapunzel #tts varian #alternative universe #freckle sibling rights #sorry killing him would be too easy #and Rapunzel deserves to get good writing #struggling with guilt and empathy and being over worked #and disabled boy rights

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thespectralvision · 3 years

Text

Flufftober 2021 - 7. Meddling Friends

Part of the @flufftober2021 challenge, featuring Wanda, Vision, and the Minimoffs. You can also read this on Ao3 HERE

Rating: G/All Audiences

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x The Vision

Characters: The (White) Vision, Wanda Maximoff, Clint Barton

Warnings: Mentions of depression, mentions of canon past-character death

Other: This and the other one-shots I’m doing for this collection are set in my wider Paprika series and most of them take place after my WIP ‘Working Theory’ where the White Vision has reunited with Wanda. This story takes place during ‘Working Theory’.

Summary: Wanda knows Vision is still struggling to adapt to his new life and Clint decides to lend a hand after she expresses her concerns.

*- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *- *-*

“Sooo…how are things going with you-know-who?” Clint Barton’s voice comes through the phone speaker as Wanda bustles around the small kitchen of her cabin. She rolls her eyes – Clint has brought this up every call for the past month. He shouldn’t even know about Vision’s existence at the synthezoids own request to keep it private until he was more comfortable announcing his return to the world. Clint had only found out when he heard Vision’s voice over the speaker phone when Wanda’s other half walked into the room without realizing she was on the line. Clint’s shock had been felt halfway around the world. Ever since it has felt like Barton is fishing for information about Wanda’s ghostly housemate whenever they talk. For a man who had tried so hard to pull her and Vision apart in the early days of their relationship Clint seems to have changed his opinions about the pair.

“Things are…” Wanda thinks for a moment, trying to decide the best choice of words and sighing loudly enough that her friend must have heard it.

“That bad huh? Look, I know I haven’t seen Vis since that mess in Leipzig but that seems unlike him. You guys were one of those couples – you know, the kind that seem to complete each other and always know what the other is thinking.”

“That’s because we literally were Clint. That is part of the problem – without the Mind Stone he’s feeling like he can’t connect with me like we used to. I can’t blame him for feeling confused and lost and needing to focus on himself right now. Dying isn’t exactly something most people have to recover from. Not to mention being disassembled and reprogrammed. Vizh is trying, I can see it every day, but we’re not quite there...yet.” Her friend doesn’t need to know the details of her current love life. While things were moving pretty quickly, all things considered, the fact that they were not separated due to an ended relationship but to Vision’s death and her disappearance made this a situation that didn’t exactly come with any guidebooks.

“Barnes may know something about the reprogramming, but, I see your point. Are you ok with all of this, Wanda? I know how much you still love him but I don’t want you pining away if he can’t move forward. You don’t deserve that.” Ah, there is the big brother coming out, Wanda thinks with a smile. She takes a quick taste of the sauce she’s preparing for dinner and nods to herself in approval, then turns her attention back to the phone.

“Clint, I know you are worried about me but I’m fine. Vision and I are fine. We’ll get through this, it’s not the first time he’s been distant and hard to communicate with because his mind works differently from ours. He always gets broody about things that are bothering him.” Wanda knows probably better than anyone what Vision is like when he’s trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t have a logical answer. Back when they lived in the Compound, the others had been aware of Vision’s struggles adapting to life among humans but he had kept the worst of his concerns private, confiding only in Wanda. Since he had appeared in Sokovia, standing on the street corner looking more lost than she had ever seen him, it felt like he had reverted back to those times. It always leaves Wanda feeling sad – knowing how far he had come before losing the Mind Stone and seeing him now. She can still see the man she loves in him and every day she can see him trying to be that person again. For her, and for himself.

“Well maybe he just needs a little extra push. Maybe I should talk to him.” Wanda laughs at the mischievous note in her friend’s voice. She knows Clint isn’t joking, but she appreciates the light tone.

“Oh no, that will just make him run and hide. Besides, he’s at the store in town picking up a few groceries for me and I don’t know when he’ll be back. Sorry.”

“Aww. Well, next time then.” Wanda smiles, hearing the sound of other voices come through the speaker and as a door opens. “Alright, well, that’s the kids getting back so I should probably get going. It was good talking to you Wanda. You take care, and I hope you and Vision can work things out and come visit us soon. You still owe us after disappearing to New Jersey back in November.”

“I promise, as soon as Vizh is ready to reintroduce himself to everyone we will plan a trip back to the States. I’ll talk to you soon. Goodbye, Clint. Give my love to your family.”

----

Vision finds himself, not for the first time, staring at two jars of spice and trying to discern which is the one Wanda actually needs. While he may appear human on the outside he is certain any passer-by would suspect otherwise given how confused such a simple task has left him. While he better understands the concept of taste these days, his other half’s ingredient list had been unhelpfully vague. He suspects this was on purpose – something of what he recalls to be a long running joke between them. Still, he sighs in frustration, wondering if there really is any difference between these two items except the price. Not that the price should matter – despite living in a one bedroom remote cabin he has plenty of money saved from before the Blip and from the income of his occasional work assisting Pepper. Maybe he should just get both-

A message pings to his interface, a welcome distraction from his failed decision making and Vision assumes it to be Wanda with something she had forgotten to include. When he pulls the message up and it’s not her number he frowns, confused. No one should have his number – not to his physical cell phone (kept mostly for appearances) nor to his built in communication units except for a very short list of colleagues and friends who he has spoken with since coming back online. The other Avengers may still have his contact information but until this moment no one has tried to reach out, likely because they still believe him to be dead. Curious, Vision pulls the message up and processes it.

“Get Wanda” followed by a flower emoji. Odd. It must be someone that knows them, but how would this person know Vision was at the store? Perhaps it was a coincidence...but something feels odd about this.

Vision runs a search, tracing the number the mystery is solved. Clint Barton. Of course. He must have been talking to Wanda. Had she mentioned being...unsatisfied? The thought that he may have unintentionally upset Wanda bothers Vision more than he cares to admit. He’s been trying, and she has expressed understanding in the past weeks but it was not unreasonable to assume she was lying to make him feel more comfortable. As much as Clint meddling in his relationship annoys him, perhaps the man has a good suggestion. The data in Vision’s memory banks confirms that Wanda had always liked flowers in the past, often surrounding herself with green and growing things. Vision had made a point of always having some waiting during their years in hiding, both at his flat in Scotland or any hotels they met in, knowing how much she loved the bright splashes of colour they brought. He can’t think of a good excuse as to why he has been so ignorant of this fact since their reunion.

Without further thought Vision places both spice jars in his basket and pauses in front of the small floral display before heading to the pin and chip machines nearby. He must have looked lost as a kind faced young woman approached.

“You look a little lost, can I help you?” She asks in Sokovian and Vision turns to look at her.

“Yes, sorry, I am...uncertain what would be best for my current situation.”

“Need something for a date? Wanting to impress a new girlfriend...or boyfriend?” The girl offers a knowing smile and starts looking at the offered bouquets when Vision shakes his head.

“Not exactly, I...they are for my...wife. We are having something of a, er, a rough patch, but she has always loved flowers and I thought they may cheer her up.”

“I know just the thing. I hope they help, it is very sweet of you.” The florist steps away and half an hour later Vision is entering the cabin with a shy smile, hand outstretched with his offering. Wanda’s bright, surprised smile is all the confirmation he needs that Clint was right.

#flufftober2021 #wandavision #wanda x vision #mcu fic #marvel fic #scarlet witch x vision #the vision #white vision #wanda maximoff #clint barton #my writing

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

But Once a Year (5/5)

This is a trick.

It has to be. Something Pan planned, or some nonsense only possible in Neverland, because one second Emma’s sitting outside the Echo Caves and wondering how exactly things could possibly get worse, and then the world decides to take her up on the challenge. She’s not where she was. Or when she was, either.

And the future isn’t entirely what Emma expects it to be, but that might not be entirely horrible and Christmas with a husband and a family that quite clearly loves her is only kind of messing with her head. God bless us, every one.

————

Rating: T Word Count: 10K — canon had to catch up, and stuff had to happen, and happily ever after requires some adjectives AN: Guys! This is a completed story! One I had absolutely no intention whatsoever of writing. For that am even more grateful than usual that you all clicked and read and said very nice things. It’s always an absolute joy to write about these two idiots falling in love. I hope your holidays were fantastic, and January is very kind to you, and I am taking suggestions as to what I should write in 2021. (Or: if I should just post a bunch of fic I’ve already written, there’s so much fic already written)

Ao3 links in the reblog, because Tumblr’s tagging system is something of a colossal joke.

————

She’s got no idea where Killian went.

Especially impressive since they haven’t left the house yet, but the house is also fairly massive and there are a lot of people and some of them have magic, and most of them have weapons, and one of Emma’s knees cracks when she crouches in front of Hope.

Who is wearing pajamas that match Lucy’s, and holding a stuffed animal whose right arm appears to be holding on by a quite literal thread, and has absolutely no idea what’s going on.

It’s a strangely positive thing.

“You’re going to be ok,” Emma tells her daughter, which she hopes isn’t the lie it feels like. “Everything’s going to be ok. We’re just—we’ll be back soon, alright?” That’s not really a lie, either. Depending on how the next ten minutes or so, go. And part of Emma expects impatience — from the other adults nearby, magical or otherwise, but a quick glance over her shoulder only shows Mary Margaret wiping away tears, and Regina’s lips have all but disappeared behind her teeth, and the overall tightness of David’s jaw cannot possibly good for any of his teeth.

Taking a deep breath is an exceptional challenge.

“For presents?” Hope asks, and it takes Emma a moment to understand the question. Nodding hurts her neck. And, like, her heart.

No one turns off their Christmas tree in this future, it seems. Colors splash across one of Hope’s cheeks, what feels like several thousand emotions and at least a dozen internal organs twisting in Emma’s center and she barely manages to rasp out, “yeah, of course,” before there’s moisture in her eyes and her vision is going blurry and at the very least it’s comforting to know that one of the steps in her parent’s house creaks too.

“Emma,” Regina murmurs, and she’s nodding again. Hair brushes the hand that’s landed on her shoulder, as warm as ever, but there’s tension in the move as well and Killian’s lips don’t shift when Emma tilts her head up.

Something’s going on. More than the obvious. And she wants to ask, she does — but the worry churning in her gut moves to the center of her throat, and makes it impossible to voice questions or demand anything more than what he’s already given, and they’ve got no idea how to get her back. Except for—

Killian’s eyebrows lift. Ever so slightly, barely enough movement that it should even count, but Emma’s become something of an expert on his face in the last few days, and she can’t blink away the tears fast enough. Mourning something that’s happened and hasn’t, and absolutely needs to.

She can’t ruin this.

Plastering a wholly unnatural smile on her face, Ruby lets out a huff of air as she marches forward and scoops Hope into her arms. “For presents,” she repeats, “Mom wouldn’t miss that, would she?” Emma shakes her head. Seriously, every inch of her aches. With those pesky emotions and magic, and she cannot fathom how she manages to stand back up without falling over, but then there are fingers tangled up with hers and she’s brushing strands of hair away from Hope’s eyes, and leaning forward to kiss the bridge of her nose and—

“I love you.”

Whispers flood her ears, soft enough that for a second Emma truly believes she imagines them, but none of this has been the dream she’d convinced herself it had to be, and the sound isn’t as terrifying as it should be. Is like the excitement borne of picturesque Christmas mornings, and a ridiculous number of cookies, and magically-maintained snowmen.

Killian’s eyes widen, ever so slightly. Part two.

“Dor and I’ll stay here,” Ruby says, seemingly unconcerned with whatever’s happening between Emma’s ears, but Killian’s staring again and Emma’s barely breathing and she probably nods if the movement of her hair is any indication.

More instructions are doled out, plans Emma only half listens to while also trying to stay conscious and it’s only after the screen door slams behind them that she realize she doesn’t actually have a weapon. She’s fairly certain she won’t need it.

Because she’s absolutely positive this is going to work.

Well, she hopes at least.

“Don’t let go, ok?” she mumbles, mostly into Killian’s shirt and he kisses her hair. More than once, like he’s trying to reach a quota and that’s only kind of depressing, but then there’s magic stretching around them and inching up the back of Emma’s calves and she hopes she hears what she thinks she hears.

When he mutters “never” in her ear.

If there were any doubts that they were dealing with the disintegrating fabric of reality, they’re all immediately dismissed as soon as Emma opens her eyes. Trees bend in the middle of their trunks, broken branches littering the ground as what feels like genuine electricity crackles in the air, sending sparks that occasionally rain down like they believe they’re drops of water and allowed to do that.

Clouds that look suspiciously familiar, but lack that hint of magically-induced purple, blot out any sort of light in the sky. They’re puffier than they should be — the clouds, and also Emma’s eyes because she might be crying again, and she’s not particularly knowledgeable about meteorology. Still, she’s seen more than one curse broken and this isn’t quite the same. The lack of color dries out her mouth, although that may also be because she suddenly can’t catch her breath.

Magic tugs at her brain and her muscles, rising up in defense and something that isn’t really bravery. More like fear, at what the clouds can do and what they’ve already done, and the soft whoosh of Killian’s sword leaving its scabbard is far more comforting than it should be.

Wearing those pants with the sword belt is something Emma doesn’t want to forget. “Kinda looks like they’re eating everything in their way, doesn’t it?” she breathes. “Like, it’s—pulling everything up out of the ground, wrecking it at the foundation.”

“Not exactly ideal, is it?”

“You’re making jokes.” “If I don’t know, I’m fairly certain I’ll fall over.”

Scoffing, Emma licks her lips, and that doesn’t do anything except momentarily wet her lips, but her heart’s also trying to explode and the pop of Regina’s teleporting ability is loud enough to make both of them flinch.

“Oh shit,” Henry mutters, wielding his own sword. Both of those things are going to take Emma some time to get used to. Which she doesn’t have.

Not when tiny whirlwinds explode around her ankles, caking her jeans with leaves and dirt-filled snow, and she briefly wonders if that’s because of her or just bad timing on their arrival. Feels like an insult all the same.

“So, uh,” David says slowly, “what do we do about this, then?” Rolling her whole head seems like an entirely excessive response, but Emma supposes Regina’s never been one for subtlety and it is still kind of impressive when she does the flame thing. Fire jumps between her fingers, like one of those bouncing balls on sing-along VHS tapes, and really the answer is pretty simple. “Emma needs to leave. Weeks ago, if we’re being frank, but—” “—We’re not being frank, are we, Your Majesty?” Killian interrupts, low and a little more pirate than he’s been since Emma woke up here. Regina tilts her head. Her neck muscles don’t appear to be dealing with the same limitations Emma’s are.

“How do we do that, though?” Ella asks. “We’ve—I mean, we’ve tried just about everything haven’t we? Zelena’s spell didn’t work.” Regina hums. Looks a little smug, but with a hint of worry that’s also oddly comforting in a slightly vindictive way and there’s no warning before Tinker Bell appears in front of them. Smaller than usual, with wings that move as quickly as a hummingbirds and Emma’s eyes widen so quickly they manage to water even more and it’s easier to hear Killian’s soft laugh when he pulls her against his side.

What looks like sparkles, but may actually be pixie dust floats in the air, Regina’s sigh of impatience barely passing her lips before Tinker Bell is a full-sized person again and that full-sized person looks as terrified as the situation demands and— “Wonderland’s gone too,” she announces. “I only just got out.” Emma’s eyes are going to fall out of her face. It will be gross and undoubtedly uncomfortable. “Out. What does—what does that mean, exactly?” “What it sounds like. It was—” Shuddering, Tinker Bell wraps both arms around her middle, as if she’s trying to ensure she doesn’t fall apart either, and guilt appears to be the prevailing emotion threatening to sever Emma’s spleen at the moment. She’s only partially confident as to where her spleen even is. “Those,” Tinker Bell continues, pointing up at the clouds advancing on them, “they’re…cannibalized versions of magic.” “Oh,” Henry says, “gross.” Mary Margaret sniffles before she kisses him on the cheek. He’s holding Ella’s hand very tightly.

“It is,” Tinker Bell agrees, “because it’s all wrong. Broken, even. The opposite of what you’ve created here. Anything unified is gone, shattered from the inside out and—” “—That won’t stop, will it?” Emma asks, already knowing the answer. It’s been the same since the start, but it was so easy to fall into this start and live this life and she’s hardly noticed Regina. Lifting her hands towards the clouds like she could fight them, or stop them and her electricity metaphor had been almost accurate before.

Lightning explodes from Regina’s palms, feet a bit wider than usual while a muscle jumps in her temple, and the first brush of Killian’s thumb against Emma’s wrist makes her flinch again.

The clouds pause. For a moment.

Seem to shudder against the force of Regina’s power and strength, but there’s another crack and a branch that slams into the ground with an alarming speed, shaking the ground under yet a different pair of Emma’s boots, and, well—

That’s that, as they say.

Only they don’t ever mention the shadow-type vines that also explode from the ground. And for a breath, Emma’s not there. She’s sitting on different ground, in an entirely different realm, while her sword half hangs from the makeshift belt on her back and lights dance in front of her eyes. Blinking doesn’t do anything. Breathing heavily only makes the sound echo in her ears and air heave out of her lungs, and Emma can’t get her bearings. Is being twisted and torn until she’s certain she’ll be ripped apart. Right there, in the in-between, and—

No.

Giving in isn’t an option. She’s got people to save, and a kid to get back and a life to live. And the hand squeezing hers is tight enough to pull her back from a variety of edges. In any version of reality, she’s sure.

Head falling forward, Emma slams into something solid and that’s probably not another metaphor. Blades flash at the edge of her vision, both David and Henry moving quicker than she’s ever seen, while Mary Margaret slings arrow after arrow at something that isn’t entirely substantial and Killian’s hook moves under Emma’s chin.

At one point she might have thought that was a threat. She’s the world’s biggest idiot, obviously.

“No,” Tinker Bell replies, far later than is conversationally acceptable, honestly. “It won’t. Nothing will last if you don’t go back, Emma. It all hinges on you. That’s why Pan did this in the first place. He knew what you meant, to the whole world.” She groans. Like a goddamn hero.

“That might be a little heavy, Tink,” Killian mutters, and Emma makes another noise. Disbelief and charmed and wholly endeared, plus that other thing that she knows will make all the difference and at least eight of her knuckles crack. When she curls them into his shirt.

Patterned, naturally.

“Are you quoting things?” He nods. “You think it’s very cute.” “I’m not sure you could ever really be cute.”

“Is this honestly happening right now?” Regina snarls, sweat dotting her brow and Emma barely notices. Can’t really pull her eyes away from Killian when he’s smirking at her like that. “Flirting at the end of the world?” “Seems as good a time as any, doesn’t it?” Emma challenges. More pixie dust falls on the forest floor, shining brightly for a few prolonged seconds. That’s something of a confidence boost.

For Emma. And her feelings. And her plan, half-cocked as it may be.

“Expand on that for me,” Killian grins.

Keeping her head lifted is one of Emma’s more major successes. At least recently, and while her muscles don’t entirely appreciate it, the jut of her chin makes it easier for Killian’s fingers to ghost over the edge of her mouth and push into her hair and—

“Your eyelashes are unnaturally long,” she says, and the grin widens. “It drives me nuts.” “Does it just?” “Yeah, from like—the get, really. At first I thought it was a fairytale thing, y’know…have to be painfully attractive to be part of the story, but—” “—You end up in the book eventually.”

Heart explosion is not nearly as painful as Emma assumed it would be. If anything, it just makes her feel like she’s floating a bit and her magic gives her a buoyancy that leaves her lighter and softer and she turns into the palm cupping her cheek. “Spoilers,” she chides. “What do you—what do you think happens?” “When you go back, you mean?” Emma nods. Doesn’t really want the answer. Might actually be terrified of the answer, because the timeline is as knotted as it’s ever been and time travel is way more trouble than it’s worth. She’ll probably kick Peter Pan too, just to cover all her bases. “Will you,” she whispers, and holding Killian’s gaze is something of a rather disappointing miracle, “will you all—” “—I don’t think so.” “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

One side of his mouth tilts up, eyeing her with passing amusement and that other emotion and his fingers trail towards the chain hanging around her neck. “Between the vaguely twisted compliments and the actual insults, I’m not entirely sure this is going to work, love.” “What isn’t going to work?” Henry asks sharply, swinging his sword through a shadow.

Grunting, one of Regina’s knees buckles as she continues to fight against the cloud and Ella’s back pressed against hers only just manages to keep her standing. “Get on with it, already,” she hisses. “Or at least try it.”

Nerves explode under Emma’s skin, racing up her arms and threatening to drown out the magic that’s as strong as it’s ever been because the magic is clearly smarter than her, and it’s unreasonable to think she’d be able to deal with that exact shade of blue in Killian’s eyes.

“You make sure I’m alright.”

He blinks. Fair, honestly. Words keep tumbling out of Emma without much thought, but she needs him to know this and this might be the crux of everything else and she’s nodding again. “Over and over,” she continues, “when we’re on the Jolly, and I’m—” “—In the crew’s quarters doing pull-ups.” “You remember that?”

“I’m rather attracted to you, you know that right?”

Laughing with tears in her eyes is as patently absurd as it is nice, and the shadows inch closer. “Could probably do with some reminding every now and then,” Emma admits, “but I, uh—that’s what happened before, too. Sitting outside the Echo Caves and you were supposed to be asleep. Showed up anyway, to make sure I was alright. You always do that.” “Something of a habit.” “So you’ve mentioned.” Humming, there’s not really any way for Killian to get closer to her, but he certainly tries and Emma hopes she doesn’t forget that either. She’s not entirely sure how her memories will deal with everything they’ve been through in the last few weeks. And, like—her life, but that sounds kind of melodramatic. “You don’t need me to take care of you,” Killian says softly, “but it’s—making sure you’re alright is like…making sure we’re following the right course.” “Am I the star in this analogy?” “Several times over,” he replies, “and it’s easy to follow.” “Oh, what was that about backhanded insults?”

Warm air brushes her face when he exhales, nosing at the tear stains her over-abundant emotions have left behind. “I have no idea what will happen,” Killian whispers, as if he’s speaking only for Emma and she supposes that’s at least partially true. “I doubt we’ll disappear, not when it appears time’s much less of a straight line than I originally anticipated, but Her Majesty was right. Nothing’s set in stone, love. That’s half the fun.” “Sounds like a hell of a gamble too.” “Aye, but you’ve also got a pirate who’s rather willing to cheat on your behalf.” “Did you use weighted dice?” He kisses her hair. The edges of her eyes. Down the bridge of her nose and just above her mouth, which is really a very cruel tease, but if they were running out of time earlier, then they’re operating on borrowed minutes now, and Emma’s calves almost audibly object when she pushes up on her toes.

“Just sleight of hand,” he says, “it’s very impressive, I know.” “Something like that, yeah.” “This wasn’t fair to you, Swan. To—to be thrown into this, and I can’t…”

Shaking her head, she’s never actually let go of his shirt, so Emma doesn’t have an excuse for how much her fingers tremble. “No, no, no, if you apologize I will step on your foot, I swear to any God you can come up with.” “Several, actually.” “Nerd,” she insults, and it’s as far away from that as it’s possible for a four-letter word to be. Killian’s eyes have gone glossy. “This wasn’t what he thought it’d be. Pan, I mean. He—he thought he’d take me off the board, keep me locked here because I’d be so tempted to stay and I—” A tree branch falls dangerously close to her right foot. “Well, obviously I was, but…” “But?” Emma presses her lips together. Ignores the ache in her legs and the area directly around her heart, taking more pleasure than she should in the overall circumference of Killian’s eyes while her magic practically sings. Soars out of her, until the ends of her hair light and the shadows don’t retreat, but they freeze for a second and that’s all she really needs. “Seeing it all,” Emma starts, “living it, that’s why I can go back. Because I want to live it. No cheating, no advancing to Go. God, fuck—am I really making Monopoly jokes right now?”

He beams. Stares at her like she’s that star, and a few other constellations for good measure. Possibly the Sun too, but Emma’s the one who’s all too willing to orbit around the whole lot of them, and she kisses him before she can think better of it.

“You make sure I’m alright,” she repeats, “ten-thousand times over, until I end up here. And it’s just not better, babe, it’s—it’s a life, a real one. The kind I used to think was some great, big joke, but that house is so big and our kids are so good, and it’s—” Killian wipes away the tears. For the best, really. Since Emma isn’t entirely sure she can unclench her fingers. “I love it,” she breathes, “I love—”

In any other situation, she’d almost resent being interrupted. As it is, being interrupted with the press of Killian’s mouth against hers is one of the better things that’s happened to her. Like, ever. And she’s already pressed up on her toes, so really the whole thing is pretty practical.

Tilting her head, Emma’s grip threatens to rip his shirt and her spine isn’t all that pleased at the arch she’s put it in, but his hand is flat against her back, the kind of steady presence she’s sure she could build everything around. They’ve gotten better at this, she thinks — less frenzied than it was in Neverland, but somehow even better, like they’re sitting on simmer, a low heat that simply exists and isn’t as overwhelming. She’s not sweating, at least. She’s wrapped in cashmere blankets, and comfort and some other word that starts with ‘c’ because Emma’s ability to linger on the alliterative in times of heightened feeling is actually pretty impressive.

At least until Killian’s tongue swipes the seam of her mouth, and they drift a hint closer to frenzied, and somewhere in the realm of desperate and she genuinely does not notice the first band of light.

Or the second, quite frankly.

It isn’t until the colors arch over them, and several people gasp, that Emma realizes they’ve done something fairly tremendous. Beams of glistening magic curl around them, some hanging from the bend of Emma’s elbow and the curve of Killian’s hook, draping either one of their shoulders and falling off the sleeves of their respective leather jackets.

“Holy shit,” Emma breathes, fully expecting Killian’s smile and hoping for his laugh and she’s done more hoping now than she has in the first twenty-nine years of her life.

Henry clicks his tongue. “Oh you can say it, huh?” “I’m your mom, that’s how it works.” More laughter, as out of place as ever, but the light doesn’t disappear immediately and Killian’s jaw has gone slack. “Has that not happened before, then?” Emma asks him.

“You called me babe.” Regina groans again. Henry snickers, ducking his head into Ella’s shoulder, and Emma’s not sure what her parents do, but her mom is definitely crying and she’s crying and there’s something shimmering on the other side of Tinker Bell.

“Told you it’d work,” she says with a knowing smile. “She just needed to get there. And, y’know, be willing to walk away. Which doesn’t sound as romantic as it is, now that I think about it, but might be kind of in the spirit of Christmas.”

Killian rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” Emma nods, “that’s—” She cuts herself off that time, Killian’s fingers lacing through hers so he can give her hand three quick squeezes and that number was probably random. Maybe. True Love’s goddamn Kiss.

“Falling in love with you probably isn’t very easy, is it?”

The tears fall. Drop from the corners of his eyes onto cheeks, one of which has a scar on it and Emma wants to know how that happened. Wants to learn every single thing about him, and them and collective pronouns don’t quite terrify her anymore.

“Not always,” Killian agrees, another strange way of doing it, “but I do always think it’s worth it. For everything we get.” “This?” He nods. “And then some. Because you’re the single most stubborn lass I know, and Pan’s an absolute fool.” “Call me lass again, and see if I kiss you anymore.” “I’m almost confident on that front.”

Smiling doesn’t hurt. Doesn’t affect the muscles in her face, or the overall state of her heart, and that may have something to do with its exploding tendencies from earlier, but Emma’s eyes keep flickering towards that portal and everything ahead of her, and the wave of determination that crests her consciousness doesn’t take her by surprise.

She’s going to get this all back.

Like a Christmas present, waiting under the tree to be opened, and another promise and Killian squeezes her hand again. Before kissing her once more, in a way that doesn’t feel like a farewell, but has a hint of promise and expectation and Emma hugs Henry. And her parents. Glances at Regina, and goddamn Tinker Bell, and hugging Henry again simply makes sense. “Come save me, huh?” he murmurs into her hair. “That’s the plan,” Emma promises. Twisting her neck, Killian’s not more than an inch behind her, but the shadows threaten again, making it difficult to see him and eventually she’ll argue that’s why she doesn’t entirely notice when his hand moves, darting towards her pocket and back so quickly it’s not much more than a blur, and her lips barely brush his before they’re pulling away from each other.

To get back to each other.

“I’m going to love you an absolutely ridiculous amount,” Emma promises, and Killian’s eyes brighten. Brand themselves on all those memories, and even more feelings. “More than I do now, even.” “I look forward to it.”

Bumping her chin against her chest when she nods, Emma’s next inhale is shaky at best, but her steps are sure and she doesn’t feel anything when she falls backwards, or notice the way Regina’s hand shifts ever so slightly.

Her feet slam into the ground. Ground that hasn’t exploded with glowing, vaguely evil plants yet and that’s all it takes to set her plan into motion. He hadn’t remembered, after all. And Emma can only sort of remember now.

Smoke on the water, her thoughts drift through a haze that’s far more metaphorical than she entirely appreciates, and she makes it all of eight larger-than-usual steps before those same feet land on boots and she barely stops herself before she collides with Killian.

A Killian who looks at her like he’s surprised to find her there, but not entirely opposed to it, and whatever thoughts continue to cling to the forefront of Emma’s brain know what else he wouldn’t be entirely opposed to, and that’s not bad, might even be good and great and she can’t remember why her lips feel like they’re tingling. That’s—

Strange, that’s strange. As is the number of times she blinks, and his hook flies to her waist. To keep her steady. Or something. Magnets, maybe. “Swan, are you—” “—Fine, fine,” she breathes, only just able to keep from kissing him. Hard. His lips part slightly when she keeps staring at him, eyes tracing across his face like she’s recommitting it to memory, and she supposes she is, and he was coming to find her. All over again. “You’re here though, right? This isn’t…this is real?” Hair threatens to fall into his eyes, head at an angle that Emma is sure simply exists to torment her. “Why wouldn’t it be?” “I—I don’t know,” she admits, and it only sort of sounds like a lie. Emma shakes her head. That doesn’t help, really. “Is my mom still ignoring my dad?” “Very much so. You shouldn’t be out here, you know.” “Neal’s not dead, though?” “No,” Killian says, lips forming a perfect circle on the second letter. Emma’s staring at his lips. Again, or always. Or whatever, honestly.

“Ok, ok, that’s—that’s good, well maybe not the ignoring part, but we’ll figure that out and we’re going to figure this out.” “Wasn’t a question.” “No it wasn’t.” His eyes narrow, neck remaining at that angle. “Good. It shouldn’t be.” “Awfully confident of you.” “No, no, I’m only confident in you, love.” Something flutters at the back of Emma’s brain — part memory and even more desire, and this feels like something they’ve done already, but that can’t possibly be true and those particular words in that particular order are as honest as Emma’s heard. She must have fallen asleep.

“C’mon,” Killian continues, hand reaching for hers and she doesn’t pull away. She lets his fingers tangle with hers, and every squeeze against her palm is enough to settle her pulse and her magic, and he doesn’t let go of her until they get back to camp. Neither one of them mention how she doesn’t pull away, either.

They plan. Plot, and discuss and Neal’s something of an issue — as is her mother’s pointed and unnecessary romantic advice, but Emma knows her objections fall on deaf ears, especially when that same mother keeps ignoring her father, and she’s not sure she’s ever known fear like she feels in Dark Hollow.

If asked — and Emma can’t imagine why she would be, but she’s at war with her own thoughts and some sadistic childlike-monster who’s already fucked with her more than he should be capable of — she’d argue it was because of what Killian tells her. When I win your heart plays on loop in Emma’s brain, but it’s also because, somehow, she knows he will and does, and fire bursts out of her in the middle of yet another shadow attack.

“How did you do that?” Neal asks, sounding far more surprised than he should and something in Emma’s center recoils at the tone. “Regina. She’s teaching me magic.” Not entirely a lie, not really. But Killian’s eyes snap towards her, and she’s apparently just as good at ignoring things as her mother. “She’s teaching you magic?”

“Yeah,” Emma nods, gripping the coconut in her hand a little tighter. Six months ago, that would have felt like the most absurd sentence in the world. Now it just pisses her off. “I guess she is.”

There’s more, because of course there is. Wendy Darling and Neal are something of old friends, and she’s somehow an even worse liar than Emma, but the truth means Henry’s death and she can’t breathe. Can hardly stand, but is also standing closer to Killian and she keeps calling him Killian. In her head.

His hand squeezes hers; exactly three times.

“It’ll be fine, love,” Killian murmurs. Naturally, it’s not.

Watching Henry hand over his heart is a nightmare Emma will see for the rest of her life, wholly unprepared for the way her kid drops to the ground and the strength of her ensuing magic threatens to blind her.

Regina’s not much better, honestly. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out and then there’s magic and a wave of her hand, and—“He’s not dead yet,” she tells Emma, like that’s acceptable, but she’s got no idea what else to do and the growing feeling that she’s forgotten something very important.

Preservation spells are as freaky their name implies, it turns out.

Henry doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, but he also isn’t dead and Emma figures that’s at least one positive. While she’s attacked by a tree, and taunted by Pan and Regina’s admission leaves her reeling just a bit. That is until it turns out Peter Pan is also Gold’s father, and the absurdity of it all makes Emma want to scream and cry and they somehow save Henry’s heart.

In Pandora’s Box.

Really, the rest is a blur — adrenaline mixing with magic and an above-average amount of gasping, and Killian offers Henry the captain’s quarters. Emma doesn’t think before she walks, leading the pair of them towards the door, and there’s a shadow trapped in the sail and they’re on a flying pirate ship, so honestly her knowledge of that pirate ship’s layout should be the least of their worries, but something, something…open book.

“You want to tell me what’s going on, now?” Killian asks, finding Emma what feels like a lifetime later. Hours, actually. Most of which she’s spent leaning against the railing, while trying to breathe in as much salt air as possible and Regina’s still in the cabin with Henry.

“Aside from the obvious?” “Whatever’s got you staring so intently at the horizon.” “It’s calming,” Emma reasons, and there’s some truth to that as well. There’s also something in her back pocket, a piece of clothing that miraculously isn’t totally destroyed with mud and the after-effects of fighting for their collective lives.

“It often is, although you’re thinking so loudly, I can’t help but—” “—Do you think you’ll stay in Storybrooke?”

Killian tenses. He’s close enough that Emma can practically feel the way his muscles tighten, but there’s more to it than proximity, and it’s got to be nearly his turn at the helm. Neal can’t stay up there forever.

“If you think that would be a good idea.”

Rolling her eyes makes her head hurt. She might also be dehydrated. The knowledge that there’s a flask of rum stashed somewhere under the cot in Killian’s cabin is one of the few things keeping Emma conscious. Captain’s cabin. Semantics. She has no idea how she knows that. “That’s not really what I asked,” Emma argues. “Do you—is that something you’d like?”

She shouldn’t be as nervous as she is.

The future is suddenly blurry, and not entirely uncertain, but she fought like hell for it and now there’s this growing sense of optimism taking root in her. Like it’s the foundation for everything else, strong and certain and that’s a rather daunting change of pace for her. The certainty, not the adjective choices. Gold made it so David could come home too. They all get to go home. So, Emma doesn’t move very quickly when she turns, just presses her lips together and—

Hopes.

Pixie dust requires a certain amount of belief to work, after all.

“I would,” Killian breathes. He leans forward, or Emma leans forward, and it genuinely does not matter because there are mouths and hands and it’s over before it really begins, the rail of a flying pirate ship threatening to dig into her back. She’s never been more comfortable. “Ok,” Emma says, footsteps coming towards them, “that’s good.”

“You saved him, you know.”

“Motivation’s a funny thing like that.”

“Certainly is,” Killian agrees, “and you had that in spades. I just—” He smirks. The bastard. “Telling you I knew you would makes me a bit of a cad, doesn’t it?” “More than a bit, maybe.” He chuckles, letting his head drop closer to hers. “Why’d you know where the blankets were in that cabin?” “Far too perceptive for your own good.” “I prefer to see it as an acute observation.” “And you’re more than just a pretty face, huh?”

“Sounds suspiciously like you think I’m pretty.”

“Occasionally,” Emma says, standing on wobbly knees again and they’re dancing without music. “I don’t know, really, but we’ll get there, I think.”

Leaning back, Killian’s eyebrows shift and his thoughts practically come with cymbals, but he doesn’t press her anymore and Emma doesn’t actually believe she fell asleep. Outside the Echo Caves, but all of those thoughts feel like dreams now, and Neal doesn’t ask any questions — which is either a victory or a crushing disappointment, depending on which way you look at it, but Emma can’t bring herself to leave the railing, even when the wind picks up and goosebumps prickle her arms and the something in her back pocket is a tiny slip of paper.

Torn at the edges, like the person who grabbed it was pressed for time and flush with determination and she’s never actually seen his handwriting before. It doesn’t make an ounce of difference. Swooping letters linger on the looseleaf, no matter how many times Emma blinks, the words the same and she tries very hard not to rip it. Holding it as tightly as she is makes that easier said than done.

Still, it doesn’t change.

I love you.

As clear as the tears that return to her eyes will allow, and Emma’s not surprised to find him already looking in her direction. She smiles, and goes below deck.

They don’t make it very long before something else gets fucked up.

They barely make it like—two weeks. Pan isn’t dead, and Henry’s not Henry and the whole thing is a disaster that frequently ends with Emma slumped against the nearest wall she can find, the hand gripping hers squeezing at regular intervals, like Killian is trying to remind her of something, but she might just be hoarding every touch and every feeling and it figures.

Standing at the town line, Emma’s not sure how she’s going to get in that car and drive away from this town and these people and her mother kisses her forehead. Softly and almost reverently, and David’s hand finds the back of her head, holding her as tightly as he had in Neverland and Emma knows he’d like to do that forever, but that won’t be possible in five minutes and she’s not going to remember.

Any of them. At any point.

She’s still not sure why the timing of it all seems so important.

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

Smiling is the only way she stops herself from kicking him, or possibly kissing him and she’s not prepared for what Killian says next. If she ever gets to remember this, that will seem vaguely ridiculous. All things considered.

“There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you.” He means it. Emma knows that, too. As much as she knows she should have said something — a string of words that’s still a little overwhelming, but the sheet of paper basically lives in her jacket pocket now, and for someone who feels as if she keeps bouncing around time, or at least realms, she also continues to run out of it.

“Good,” she says, and one side of his mouth moves. Tugs up while he stares at her, and struggles to step back and everything disappears. Behind a cloud of purple smoke, and a line that’s brushed away as easily as if it had never been there at all, and Emma forgets.

Most of it, at least.

Some guy knocks on her door, knows her name, and immediately tries to kiss her. It’s not the strangest thing Emma’s ever encountered, but that’s because bail bond’s a weird gig, and he keeps showing up. Gives her a note with handwriting that looks suspiciously familiar, and proves even more than that and her hand shakes. While pulling a weather-stained piece of paper from the folds of her wallet, and she’s got no rational reason for keeping it. Not when she’s got no idea why she has it in the first place, but every time she considers throwing it away, something tugs between her ribs and flutters at the back of her brain and the swoop on the top of his ‘o’ is exactly the same.

She doesn’t mention that before she drinks the potion. And she only balks slightly at the word potion , so that’s another victory and— “Killian,” she breathes, memories flying back. Some arrive quicker than others, while a few hang in the shadows and she knows there’s more to the sheet of paper than she’s willing to admit. Magic fights with her, trying to piece together things that don’t entirely make sense, and she can remember things that don’t make sense. Pirate ships, and flashing swords, and a house with enough windows that it likely sets a record.

And a hand slipping a sheet of paper into her back pocket.

“Miss me?”

It’s a joke. A bad one, at that. Especially coupled with a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but Emma finds herself nodding all the same and he doesn’t stumble backwards when she launches herself at him, hugging as tightly as she can.

The paper goes back in her wallet before they leave for Storybrooke.

She’s going to leave. Get back in her car and go back to New York, and raise Henry like a normal kid, but Emma can’t shake the feeling that there’s something inherently wrong with that plan, and it doesn’t have anything to do with wicked witches or newborn brothers, but maybe deja vu for something she hasn’t lived yet, and Killian’s eyebrows fly into his hairline. When she does the unthinkable.

“Come with us, then.” “You’re not serious,” he challenges.

“Like a heart attack, maybe. I just…none of this is safe, and New York was, I mean…you could be part of—” “False memories, based on magical nonsense.”

Shoulders slumping, Emma can’t come up with an argument to that. Only kind of wants to, but she’s not in the book, and Henry doesn’t want to leave. The dreams she keeps having make sleep something of a pipe dream. And she’s something of a mess, but Killian’s a much better dancer than she expected him to be.

And she’s not surprised to find him rounding the corner of Regina’s dungeon, although it’s nice to be saved, even when she’s perfectly capable of doing it herself. But then his arms threaten to crack several of her ribs ten minutes later, and Emma has a few theories about that. None of which she voices, far too busy memorizing the way his thumb feels when it brushes her cheek, and her mother’s not dead.

Doesn’t remember her, but time travel beggars can’t be choosers. Another burst of deja vu rattles through her, and there’s no magic to jump in her veins, but Killian glances her direction all the same and the wand is heavy in her hand. One that’s magical again, a portal home because it is home and you trade your ship for me isn’t much more than a whisper on warmer-than-usual wind. He doesn’t blink when he answers. She’ll think about that for quite some time.

After she stops thinking about how good they are at kissing, because they are exceptional at kissing and it’s very simple. To fall into this head first, the feeling and the emotion and Killian chuckles when Emma’s magic begins to thrum under her skin.

She tells her parents about Neal.

About what he did, and how he did it and their eyes widen so often she wonders if they’ll get stuck like that. Killian’s hand doesn’t leave her shoulder.

They announce the change two days later. Prince Neal is Prince Leo and he’s still as cute as ever, with a tendency to spit up on whoever holds him.

“Are you alright?” “You’ve asked me that like ten times.” Nodding, Killian doesn’t move and Emma can’t imagine what kind of damage this is doing to his knees, but he doesn’t seem inclined to stand up either and she’s finally starting to get some feeling back in her toes. Fingers, too. Which makes it easier to drag the tips of them over his cheek, and his eyelids fluttering shut is a jolt of confidence she’s going to cling to. “And yet,” he drawls, “I’m still very curious.”

“I’m fine,” Emma says, not for the first time and she knows it won’t be the last. He shifts the blanket draped across her legs, tucking it under her side like—“A mother hen pirate.” “That’s rude, love.” “You’re going to give yourself a coronary.” “I don’t know what that means.” Laughing softly, her lips are still a bit chilly when she presses them to Killian’s skin. Warm, like always. Some joke about her own personal sun, and something else about walls made of ice and she doesn’t think before she mumbles, “you want to lay down, or something?” “Your father might challenge me to a duel.” “Not confident in your own sword skills?” “I’m very confident in my skills, but—” “—C’mon,” Emma interrupts, ignoring Killian’s protest when she pulls her arms out of the mountain of fabric covering her, “you’re warm, anyway.”

She realizes she loves him before she says it.

Well before, honestly. And she wonders why that feels inevitable, almost like it’s already happened, somehow but that’s—well, that’s impossible. She should rid that word from her vocabulary. And the inevitability of telling Killian everything she’s feeling isn’t totally surprising, either. Has been coming on so gradually that don’t you know, Emma, it’s you doesn’t knock her entirely off course. Might right her, actually. Direct her back towards some star or something else nautical and decidedly sentimental, and she cannot rationalize how quiet she is when he falls.

Dies, really.

This alternate version of him that still managed to rescue her, and she couldn’t save him and that’s not right. Two-way streets operate in both directions, but she didn’t tell him and everything feels like it stops. Not long enough. Time refuses to linger the way Emma needs it to, lungs threatening to disintegrate, and this isn’t real, can’t possibly be real and Henry’s pulling on her sleeve, telling her they have to go. He’s right. They’ve got to get out of here. Fix it, and give Emma more time, and she doesn’t spend any of it thinking before she rushes up the loft stairs and clings to him tightly enough that they fall over.

That will feel poetic later.

Standing in the center of Main Street, with a dagger in her hand and magic in the air and it’s familiar all over again, another burst of deja vu, and the exact opposite. Wrong, on a fundamental sort of level that she still can’t ignore and she closes her eyes. Thinks of what could be, or what she hopes will still happen, and then she tilts her head up and meets eyes that are far too blue to be fair and it’s easy to give voice to the words she hadn’t before.

That’s nice, she supposes.

Being as consistently confused by her own thoughts is one of Emma’s biggest pet peeves. “I love you.”

“Getting more and more difficult not to tell him. Isn’t it, dearie?” Sighing, Emma doesn’t bother glancing up from the half-finished dream catcher in her hands and Killian’s not going to be happy that he fell asleep. He likes to think he can protect her better while he’s conscious. As if he could protect her from her own mind.

“Do you even remember it?” Rumplestilskin continues, and it’s not really him. She has to keep reminding herself that. “Can see into your thoughts, y’know. And I don’t think you do.” “Shut up.” He doesn’t, of course. “The Queen did something. Changed something, somehow. Can feel the dregs of her magic, clinging to your memories and—” He leans forward. “—So can you, can’t you? Wonder why those scenes that appear behind your eyes every time you blink, feel so real. All that fairy tale fodder, and another thing you’ll miss out on. Strange how that version of your personal prince charming never mentioned what happens to you, isn’t it? Almost as if he’s keeping secrets. Maybe that’s a sign.” “Shut up.” She doesn’t mean to say anything. Responding only ever eggs the apparition on, and Emma’s head feels as if it will split in two. It might help if it did.

Every one of Rumplestilskin’s teeth is on display when he smiles. Like a goddamn crocodile.

“You could likely get your memories back. If you wanted. All that power surging through your veins. Or maybe,” he continues slowly, “part of what you’re feeling isn’t anything more than fate."

"No, that’s not true."

"Sure of that? Absolutely positive? Anything is possible, after all."

And the idea takes Emma by sudden and overwhelming surprise, part of her hating even the thought, but her feet are already moving and she might be running if the stretch of her legs is any sign, and Merlin doesn’t look up. When she slams open his door.

“You know, don’t you?” “Everything you’ve forgotten?” he asks lightly. “Yes, I do.” “What do I do about it?” “Would you like to do something about it?” “Did Regina do something to my memories?” Emma presses, leaning against the door as soon as it shuts behind her. One of his shoulders lifts. “He—the voice in my head…keeps taunting me about it, and I don’t—is any of that possible? That life?” Finally lifting his gaze, Merlin looks exactly as he did in that movie theater Emma only half believes she actually remembers, and time travel continues to be one of her least favorite things. “Depends,” he replies, “on you, and your next question.”

“I shouldn’t know. Right? Shouldn’t remember, I—he was looking at the house. The one I remember us living in sometimes, and I don’t…it’s impossible. To get back to that.” “He already told you it wasn’t,” Merlin argues.

I’ll never stop fighting for us.

Emma licks her lips. Coming up with anything else to say is difficult, and she’s still holding the goddamn dreamcatcher. That makes it easier. To give into instinct, and she’s broken. At her most basic level. Ripped apart and stitched back with pieces that don’t entirely belong to her, and remembering any of it feels like a cruel trick.

Lifting her arm, the whole thing only takes a few moments. Nothing more than a soft pull, and what feels like a soap bubble popping.

“Feel better?” Merlin asks, gaze dropping back to his table and his task and Emma nearly growls at him.

“What are you talking about?” “That’s what I thought. It won’t all disappear, though. Magic’s got a way of leaving a mark, especially magic like that.”

She leaves before he can make any other cryptic announcements, and Dark Ones don’t really need sleep. Emma sits on the bed for the rest of the night.

Dreams happen occasionally.

In the few days between — after the blade broke apart in her hand, and the decision that she won’t take this lying down, fuck whatever the world says about death and Dark Ones — visions start to creep into Emma’s subconscious. Sometimes they aren’t good, are a startling reminder of how it felt to fall to the ground, and the exact way dew soaked through her jeans, or how cold he was when his hand fell away from hers. And then sometimes they’re…not that.

They’re bright, and laughter rings out in the space Emma can’t quite define. Like it’s somewhere she’s been before, lived in even. Happily so. Scents hang in the air, a mix of salt and sweet and there’s almost always an arm curled around her waist, whispers in her ear and the steady press of kisses along her neck. Soft footsteps echo down carpeted hallways, and there’s garland wrapped around the staircase railing. Lining their ridiculous number of windows, and draped across branches of a tree.

For Christmas.

Emma isn’t sure how she knows that, but the snow outside is a good clue and it’s that — the growing desire to make this dream something closer to a reality, and no one questions her decision. To go to the Underworld. The same way she doesn’t second guess her steps as she races towards Killian, blood on his cheeks and nothing at the end of his left arm and he’s heavier than she remembered. Slumped against her chest with his breath in her ear, and it’s not quite the same as the dream, but they’ll get there.

They’ll get there.

Emma repeats the phrase — over and over, stumbling down a path she’s only passably confident will lead them outside, and he squeezes her hand. Three times.

Sometimes they dance.

In the kitchen. In the living room. She’s got this habit of hoarding records, and Killian’s far more interested in antiquing than he’d ever be willing to admit. Emma makes pirate jokes about it.

If only because it inevitably guarantees that spark in his eyes.

The one that makes her shiver, and reminds her of something she can’t quite remember and—she gasps, a hand spinning her on the kitchen floor. Away from the sink of dirty dishes and anything remotely responsible.

“I’m going to get your shirt all wet,” Emma grumbles, but that doesn’t appear to concern him very much. Or at all.

“Good.” “Good?” “Was that confusing?” Killian challenges, metal already working under the hem of her shirt. There are flowers on it.

“You think you’re very funny.” “I think I’ve got fantastic rhythm, and I can hear you thinking from across the room. What’s got your magic so loud?” Without stopping, Emma’s magic responds in kind — a symphony of possibility, and the growing sense of want that sits like a nearly-comfortable weight in the pit of her stomach, and sometimes she tells him. About the dreams, and the scenes that feel like she’s lived them before, and Killian never tells her she’s crazy. Even when Emma wonders if she might be. Instead, there’s simply this look of his own want, crinkling the skin near his eyes and she kisses away the pinch between his brow. Which makes it easier for her to ask— “Why this one?”

“Excuse me?” “This house,” Emma clarifies, and the conversation’s a little late. They’ve been here for years. Watched Henry grow up, and taught him how to use a sword, and watched movies until they could quote them back without a single mistake. So, really she should have figured it out before, but Emma’s had her suspicions. It’s only now that she’s greedy enough to ask about them.

“You know why.” “Would love to hear you say it.” “Pirate,” Killian accuses, without any insult and Emma giggles when he pulls her back to his chest. “And I—well, it’d be nice, don’t you think?” “Yeah, it would,” Emma says. The agreement tumbles out of her with ease, partially because of that aforementioned greed and the memories she can’t shake and Merlin said something to her. About magic’s tendency to leave something behind.

There’s a sheet of paper still hidden in her wallet.

“So,” she continues, “great big house, with lots of rooms and—” “—It’s your choice, Swan.” “That’s not how it works, and you know it. A combined team of planning and feeling and—” He dips her, she tries very hard not to giggle again. Fails miserably. “—Self-proclaimed rhythm. We just…this isn’t just about me, this is an us thing.” The music doesn’t stop. They only kind of do, Killian leaning back with a glint in his eyes that’s different than it normally is and Emma’s not sure when she started breathing through her mouth, but it’s drying out her lips and that’s not the first time she’s said that.

She doesn’t think so, at least.

“I’m a rather large fan of that string of words,” Killian says. “And you.” “Seems like a requirement of marriage.” “And parenting?” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

Kissing him is really the only reasonable option. And Emma considers herself fairly reasonable, although her magic nearly makes a light bulb explode a few hours later and it’s difficult to be annoyed by the smug look on Killian’s face when he’s not wearing any clothing.

“What about Regina?”

Half a dozen heads snap towards Emma, some of them sporting bemused expressions, while others wear flat out disbelief and she doesn’t blink. Her fingers tighten, under the table where she’s gripping Killian’s hand and she can’t seem to get comfortable.

There’s way more of her than she’s used to, and the books claim she’s in some stage called nesting. Which Killian uses as an excuse to make Swan jokes at every opportunity. It might be driving her insane.

So, Emma will use that as an excuse. “What do you mean, Your Highness?” Grumpy asks her, and Killian can’t quite mask his laugh. Even with his teeth pressed distractingly into his lower lip.

“I mean,” Emma starts, “that if we’re going to combine all the realms, maybe having Regina in charge might not be the worst idea. She’s got queenly experience.” “Wow,” Regina says slowly, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” “No it is not!” “Top five, at least.” “You’re ruining this.”

Scrunching her nose is not a normal Regina reaction, but Emma figures it makes sense considering the circumstances and it’s a lot of responsibility. Uniting all the realms is a pretty daunting prospect, that will require enough of her own magic that Killian’s already freaking out just a bit, and somehow Emma can’t bring herself to be frustrated with that. Endeared, maybe.

And absolutely certain this will work.

She doesn’t know why. She looks at the slip of paper in her wallet, like four times a day.

“You’re sure?” Regina asks, Emma nods. “Alright, then I’d uh—it’d be my honor.”

They buy too many gifts. Hope is a baby. One who won’t have any memory of her first Christmas in this absolutely massive house, with a tree that Anton gave them a discount on.

“For milestones,” he reasoned, and Emma resolutely refuses to admit that she cried. But Killian brings it up more than once, and that gets her to roll her eyes and smile against his mouth when he ducks his head to kiss her and Snow White went above and beyond this year. Decorations line Main Street, cookies shared from every business and every person and all those people keep smiling. At her, and them and their kid is way cuter than her brother was.

Emma doesn’t mention that.

Killian does, at least when he whispers it to her while Leo tears apart another paper-covered box, and Hope gurgles in the crook of his arm. And Emma figures this is as good a time as any. To tug the folded envelope out of her pocket, flipping her wrist at the expectant and slightly confused look on Killian’s face. “What’s this?” “A gift,” Emma snarks, barely twisting out of the way to avoid him nipping at her nose. Like some twisted and very attractive Jack Frost. There’s some silver in his hair now.

He uses his hook to open it.

Emma clicks her tongue. So as not to push into his mouth. That might scar the kid.

“I don’t—” Killian says, pulling the scrap of paper out of. He holds it like it’s precious, and it is for Emma, but she also doesn’t entirely understand it and it’s kind of a selfish gift. “This is my hand writing. Why…I don’t remember writing this.” “And I don’t know when I got it. But I have it.” “I can see that.” “No, no, you don’t understand. It’s—I’ve had that for as long as I can remember. Since before New York, at least.” Killian’s eyes flash. To her and possibly through her, and Emma’s shrug is half-hearted at best. “Memories don’t always stick in this town,” he reasons, but it sounds like an excuse. For something she still doesn’t entirely understand.

“Yeah, I know. But it’s been there. Was in my wallet, and I had it in Camelot, babe. Used to pull it out sometimes, when you were—” “—Dead?” “God bless us, every one.” His laugh lacks any real amusement. It’s not very festive. “I’m going to ask you something,” Emma says, fully prepared for the way his lips curl.

“Eventually you’ll bypass the proclamations, Your Highness.” “Why do you squeeze my hand? You do it all the time.” “Do I?” Blotches of pink appear on his cheeks and he might want to lie, but his ears can’t and that’s not as weird a sentence as it should be. “Only three times, you realize?” “Don’t insult me like that.” That laugh is better. Purer, more like him and Emma’s magic flickers when he kisses her cheek. He’s constantly kissing her cheek. And her hair. Temple. Anywhere he can reach, like he’s always looking for a reminder and proof, until Emma knows she depends on it just as much as he does.

“Made it easier,” he says, “saying it without actually using words.” “And the words were…” He doesn’t really glare — that’s against the rules at Christmas, Emma’s sure, but his head lolls and his lips quirk and magic jumps. In her. To him. Whatever, really. “I love you,” Killian says, easy as some other cliche and Hope squirms between them. When they start kissing.

To suggest that what happens next happens suddenly, also makes it seem like Emma is paying attention to anything outside the little bubble of family and feeling, and neither one of those things is true. So she can’t say that. Her mother can.

Gasping and yelping, and there’s color everywhere — rivaling the lights that hang all over, because no one does holidays and milestones better than Her Royal Highness Snow White of Storybrooke. Emma curses.

Like a goddamn princess.

Remembering something that hasn’t technically happened yet threatens to make Emma topple over, but she’s really good at standing now and Killian’s arm is around her anyway. That helps. Perpetually.

“What the hell was that?” David demands, with as little grace as any of them can exude.

Emma shakes her head, refusing to blink. Despite the moisture there, and the feelings and she remembers. Has this whole time, kind of. The semantics probably aren’t important, at least not as much as the light is and was and will be.

Perpetually.

She doesn’t answer. Not her dad, anyway.

“I love you,” Emma tells Killian instead, and it takes some time to explain it all later. True Love and its somewhat inconsistent if not equally wonderful tendencies, and while that future in the past may not happen exactly as it had, this is somehow better and Emma was right.

They got here, eventually.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #but once a year #festive fic a thon 2k20 #agh sorry for the incoming reblog but i'd like this to work

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floof-ghostie · 3 years

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Yosetsu Awase headcanons

Hcs for one of the most underrated boys in this entire franchise

Ok, so:

It took a long time for him to become confident in his quirk and properly control it, but he worked hard to train it before coming to U.A

It’s canon that he grew up in a factory town, So I feel like he has basic mechanical knowledge about how certain systems like conveyor belts work.

This, along with his quirk makes him very popular among the support course students!

He’s constantly being hounded to come to the support studio to “hang out”, but he knows that it’s mainly so that they can use his quirk, and he’s tired.

Hatsume: Awase! My favourite hero course student!!😉

Awase:

that line low key hurt Midoriya’s feelings tho lmao

His main friend group consists of Hiryu Rin, Sen Kaibara, and Kosei Tsuburaba.

They became friends after their training exercise, when they were all put in a group together; Awase and Rin were the heroes, Kaibara and Tsuburaba were the villains.

Tsuburaba was chasing Awase, who was distracting him so Rin could get past Kaibara, and to the missile.

Tsuburaba was gaining on him, and yelled: “YOU READY TO GET YO A** BEAT?!”

Awase, in the heat of the moment, replied: “ NAH! I’M A BAD B*TCH, YOU CAN’T BEAT ME!

It was a lot louder than intended, so Rin and Kaibara could hear the whole exchange and tried (key word: tried) their best to keep from laughing

Kaibara’s team won, but honestly they were too focused on the vine reference to care.

More about his childhood:

He’s the second oldest of four siblings, two sisters, one younger brother.

His older sister is 20, and is in college, and is a visual arts major

His younger sister is a year younger than him, and is really athletic, she loves basketball

His youngest brother is four years younger than him, and quirkless, and got bullied a lot.

This made Awase very protective over him growing up, and he’s very worried about his baby bro when at U.A, but things seem to be better for him, much to his relief.

These altercations at school, is what shaped his decision to be a hero, to protect those that people tend to overlook.

He may not be the violent type, but he’s got a strong sense of justice too, so when he sees people ganging up on others in public, he ain’t afraid to go in there to break it up.

He often wishes he could do more, and hates how people discriminate based on quirks.

But enough about that, onto a lighter note!!

He talks sh*t about Bakugo, no cap

This boy heard about him from Tetsutetsu, but wanted to see just how conceited he was for himself, not wanting to make any assumptions.

Then at the sports festival, when Bakugo was goin’ up to the podium to give the pledge or whatever, Awase’s thinking it can’t be that bad.

Then this dude flat out says “I’m going to win”, AND THEN DIPS

Awase would insult him to his face, but Pony holds him back all the time, bc she’s scared of Bakugo, and doesn’t want Awase to get hurt.

Normally he’d shake her off and let him have it, but she reminds him too much of his brother.

fine, he’ll keep it to himself, for now

He’s sincere normally, but says the most sarcastic sh*t when provoked

He and Kendo bond over keeping Monoma in check, being the “older siblings” of class 1-B, and their chance encounters with Yaoyorozu.

He and Tokage are friends, and often team up with Reiko, Honenuki, and Kuoiro to play pranks on their classmates.

Now he’s normally pretty chill, and calm, and generally doesn’t talk a lot.

And gets pretty decent grades, and has common sense

But when provoked or when with friends that all gets thrown out the window

He does the dumbest stuff.

Catch him in the dorms tryna climb his ceiling with his quirk

this boy really thinks he’s Spiderman, boy if you don’t get yo goofy behind-

Vlad King is so done

Now he may come across as sarcastic, and may tease others occasionally, and is not above bringing people (read: Monoma) down a few pegs when they say dumb stuff

But he’s such a good friend you guys, just come talk to him for anything.

He might not be good at giving advice, but he’ll put his game down and you have his full attention.

Like, Pony and Rin are homesick? He’ll listen to them vent, and tell him funny stories about their (respective) home country, if it’ll make them feel better

Tokage or Komori want to talk about a new band or movie that came out? The guy might not be a fan, but it makes them happy, so cool.

Kuoiro is having trouble with his feelings for Komori, but doesn’t want to tell her because that’s not an option? Been there fella, just let it all out.

Reiko is afraid that she’s weird? He’ll be right there with the reassurance, that she’s pretty cool, and even offer to go ghost hunting with her.

Anyone who disrespects or insults his classmates will live to regret it.

Basically, he’s best boy, and best brother, give him more love you guys, he deserves so much more.

#bnha #yosetsu awase #I love him so much #please stop sleeping on him

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greatqueenanna · 4 years

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Why Kristoff is a great partner and character.

There are many great male characters in the Disney canon. The Valiant, Pungent, Reindeer King Kristoff Bjogrman, stands among them as one of the best. Kristoff has something special about him that I feel goes unnoticed by many people, simply because Kristoff is a tri-tagonist in the Frozen Franchise. However, I’m here to tell you that there are things about Kristoff that truly make him shine regardless of his smaller role in the overall story. The franchise was never focused on romantic love, but within Kristoff we see a character that exemplifies what a good romantic partner should be like.

Another long one guys, so under the read more we go!

I’ve seen a few posts try and say that Kristoff’s relationship with Anna is unhealthy. However, I want to offer some viewpoints on why I feel this in not the case. According to the Hall Health Center, A healthy relationship is when two people develop a connection based on:

Mutual Respect/Honesty

Playfulness/Fondness

Trust/Support

Separate Identities

Good Communication

Kristoff is able to show all of this to Anna; while not all at once and at the very moment they meet, he does develop these skills and qualities as his and Anna’s relationship flourishes. It is also stated that all of these things take work, and is not something that just happens immediately, and that is ok. Most of these qualities Kristoff is able to show when we first meet him as adult, while others he develops over time with trial and error. As with Anna and Elsa, Kristoff is not perfect, and needed to learn certain lessons to become a better version of himself.

Mutual Respect/Honesty

It is no secret that Kristoff respects Anna’s boundaries and decisions. While he may not agree with some of them, and is vocal about it, he still doesn’t try to force his views or needs. It is always good to be honest with someone, but to not force their hand or treat them like a child. For example -

During Frozen, Kristoff is very vocal about Anna’s decision to marry Hans. He tells her that, honestly, it is a reckless decision. However, he never tries to force her to break up with or change her mind. He just very clearly states his opinion, but never steps over that boundary to try and make decisions for her. This behavior is shown throughout the film, as Kristoff is able to be honest with her on her decisions, but never tries to stop her or force her hand. The only time he directly tries to stop her, is when Anna is getting ready to throw a snowball at Marshmallow, because it directly affects her safety.

Also during Frozen, Kristoff respects Anna’s boundaries by asking Anna for her consent before kissing. He doesn’t force her into a surprise kiss, he asks her first if they could. This shows how Kristoff respects her bodily autonomy, and recognizes her possible trauma from Hans.

In Frozen 2, Kristoff again shows how he respects her decisions.

“You had to go, and of course its always fine.”

In Lost in the Woods, while Kristoff is having a harder time in this film being honest about his feelings (at first) Kristoff reiterates that he always respects Anna’s choices, never trying to force her to think one way or guilt her.

Playfulness/Fondness

Kristoff adores Anna. That, is obvious. He’s playful with her all throughout Frozen, teasing her without out right insulting her. We also know exactly how he feels about Anna as he expresses his love for her in Frozen 2. He finds Anna -

“Incredible”

“Feisty”

“Brave”

He also mentions how she’s his ‘ginger sweetheart’, suggesting that he likes her hair color (in other words, he finds her beautiful).

Also in Frozen 2, we can clearly see that Kristoff and Anna have a loving, physical relationship. This is a bit of a wacky point to mention considering that this is a children’s film, but the implications are there so I will talk about it. Anna and Kristoff kiss multiple times with both parties being comfortable, and Anna is ready to have a make out session when Elsa and Olaf fall asleep in the sled. This shows how the two of them have enough fondness of one another to be able to be physical.

Trust/Support

This is a big one, and one of Kristoff’s best qualities. Not only does he support her, as mentioned in the respect section, he shows how he is able to trust her decisions, openly asking her what she needs to do when he rescues her from the rock giants.

“I’m here, what do you need?”

“To get the the dam.”

“You got it!”

Kristoff doesn’t ask her why, he just trusts her judgment. This is clear development from the first film, when he didn’t trust her judgment based on her choice to marry Hans. Then, he gladly helps her up the cliff without a fuss or undermining her strength.

“Help me up.”

“We’ll meet you on the other side.”

His trust for her also grows when he is finally able to come to terms with how he feels. In fact, the scene above demonstrates how when Kristoff finally reflects on his emotions, he is able to be more confident with their relationship and have more trust that Anna knows what she’s doing.

Kristoff also spends both films and short films giving Anna support. In Frozen, while he at first only cares about Anna’s promise to give him a new sled, he starts to show genuine concern for her. He offers to help her down when she (barely) climbs the mountain, runs to her side when she collapses from Elsa’s blast, and tries to keep her warm when carrying her down to Arendelle. Even in Frozen 2, when he’s unsure about the status of their relationship, he still comes to her aide and helps her during the fire attack, and of course comes rushing to help her with the rock giants. In Olaf’s Frozen Adventure, he sees Anna down and wants to cheer her up, and helps Elsa in Frozen Fever throw a party for her, using every inch of his strength to make sure it doesn't get ruined.

Separate Identities

Kristoff is not dependent on Anna. While he loves her and wants to be there for her, he has a separate identity and is able to support himself. He has a life outside of Anna, including his friendship with Sven, his troll family, and his ice business. He is able to leave Anna’s side, for example in Frozen Fever to drop off the Snowgies, and in Forest of Shadows he leaves to talk to the Trolls.

His self esteem is also not dependent on Anna. He openly wears what he wants, proclaiming that he only dress nice for Anna for as long as he’s comfortable, does strange things like talking to Sven, licking a strange sculpture in Olaf’s Frozen Adventure, compliments his stew in the same film even though Elsa and Anna are visibly disgusted, and never takes Anna’s insults in Frozen to heart.

“Nobody wants to be alone. Except maybe you.”

“(Laughs) I’m not alone.”

He states the last comment without any indication that he is being defensive or is offended by the statement. In fact, it doesn't faze him at all. His worries in Frozen 2 about Anna’s feelings are not about his self-esteem, but rather losing her as a partner. Let me better explain this. Kristoff mentality is not this -

“Anna is the only one who will consider me and if I lose her, I will have no one else. I am nothing without her. ”

It is this -

“Anna has become an important part of my life because of how amazing she is, and I don’t want to lose her.”

Yes, he does claim in Lost in the Woods how -

“Who am I, if I’m not your guy?

Where am I, if we’re not together forever?”

But I firmly believe that this has to do with him letting his fear take over, not so much how he actually feels, which I’ll explain more in a bit. Thus, Kristoff is not scared of losing his relationship with Anna because she makes him feel good about himself, he’s afraid of losing her because he genuinely loves having her around in his life. He loves her as a separate person, not as a crutch.

Good Communication

This is the tricky one, because Kristoff has to develop this skill from trial and error. He doesn't have it already set, however it mostly affects his romantic life. He can pretty much say whatever he wants and what is on his mind to everyone else, and even to Anna before he realizes he loves her.

However, we clearly see that in Frozen 2, Kristoff is having a hard time expressing his desires to Anna. He wants to marry her, he wants to start a family. But what if Anna doesn’t want that? What if they are actually growing apart?

I care about her, but does she care about me?

Because of this fear, he is over explaining and fumbling over his words. Even so much as letting it affect his self-esteem, which he didn’t have a problem with before. As I mentioned many times in other posts, fear is a reoccurring villain in the Frozen Franchise, and it has reared its ugly face in Kristoff’s development as well.

His fear is making him hesitant, clumsy and question his self worth. Even though this really has nothing to do with any sort of dependence on Anna, he is letting his fear make him believe that he needs her to a desperate degree. In fact, he showed in the beginning of the film that he was much more calm about their relationship and had no doubts. It wasn’t until Anna started to focus more on Elsa that he started to grow this irrational fear. It didn’t happen in full blast until he thought Anna left him permanently.

However, after expressing these negative feelings out loud, and not letting them bottle up inside, he was able to see the flaw in his thinking as evident later on. After assisting Anna, he explains that he understands how she felt, and that it didn’t have anything to do with him. As Anna was strong enough to push forward even after losing everything, Kristoff was strong enough to able to put his feelings of self-doubt aside and find the confidence he lost.

“I know, I know, it’s ok. My love is not fragile.”

In just a few words, Kristoff expresses how his love was stronger than his fear, realizing what he already knew: that he is good enough, that him and Anna were fine, and that he was over reacting based on a fragile fear. Then, of course, he is able to tell Anna how he feels without doubt, finally asking her to marry him.

Thus, we know that Kristoff follows the traits of what makes a healthy relationship to a tee. Even though he didn’t have every quality at first, he developed them over time. As every character is flawed in Frozen, and need to make the bad choices first in order to learn, Kristoff needed to experience the same thing to be the best version of himself that he was always capable of.

#greatqueenanna/analysis #Kristoff #Kristanna #Frozen #Frozen 2

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doyouevenshipbr0 · 4 years

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gruvia drabble:

author’s note: so! this is based on a theory from @bbygirljuvi !!! it’s essentially predicting what would happen in chap 58 of 100 yq! so if u dont read 100 yq and have no idea what im talking ab, give chap 57 a read lmaooo. remember when i JUST said i didnt like writing fics of me predicting what would happen in canon in the future? well, fuck it ig!!!

ALSO i wanna point out that i LOVEEEE ur guys’ feedback and love sooossososo much!!! the only reason i dont reply to comments is bc this isnt my main blog so if i reply it will only reply from my main that i dont even use anymore:/ so i dont want u guys to think im ignoring u!!!:) just know that i do read ur comments and i love ur support! if u message me or leave me an ask i will 100% respond!:) thank u ALL ilysm!!! enjoy!:)

“She’s my power to live.”

White.

Everything after that was just white. All she could see, all she could hear. The world around her completely stopped at that point in time.

Words like these were the exact words Juvia had dreamt of hearing for what felt like an eternity at that point. She knew her face was beaming red, and her mouth was agape.

After the short period of nothingness, the words repeated in her head over and over again. Did she hear him right? Did she mix up the words in her head? No. No, she was sure that she didn’t. “She’s my power to live.” played on loop. The more the words swirled in her head, the more she felt her heart burn. It was all too much for her, but in the best possible way. She completely forgot where she even was for a moment— that she was in the middle of a battle, having the life drained from by the second.

Juvia’s body shook as her head bobbed up and down, trying to catch her breath in that moment. Her skin was so hot she thought she might melt. She was his power to live. She knew that meant a lot, because that was exactly how she felt about Gray. All the emotions in her were rising to a boil, and it wasn’t until she heard her darling call her name that she was finally being pulled back to reality.

“Calm down, Juvia!” She heard his voice call to her. She then remembered just where she was and what she was doing.

“Gah!” Metro called out in sheer pain. “So hot!”

As Juvia reached her arms out to run and embrace her beloved, her arms didn’t listen. They were stuck to the tree. However, the grip did waiver. Juvia’s hot water was causing him to slip. Then, in that moment, her annoyance took priority above all her other emotions, and she let it out where she knew it would be useful.

“Let Juvia go!” Her voice was brash, and her body began to boil even more, doubling the steam that was already coming off of her and Metro.

“Stop it! Ah!” Metro’s body thrashed with discomfort, but Juvia wasn’t letting up— not until she was in Gray’s arms.

“Ergh!” Juvia practically growled. She mustered up all that emotion and got ready for one final blow of hot water.

Metro let out a scream of pain before losing consciousness and collapsing to the ground into a pile of steaming wood. Gray stood in awe as he watched it all happen, and once he realized Metro was about to go down, he took started to lunge forward to catch Juvia who would fall. Before he could get there, Juvia fell to the ground and stuck the landing. Gray didn’t even have a chance to ask if Juvia was ok before she herself lunged at him.

“Gray-sama!~” She sang as she threw herself onto Gray, wrapping around his torso.

“Whoa!” Gray grunted on impact. His eyes were still wide as he was still attempting to process everything that just happened.

“Oh, Gray-sama! Did you really mean what you said?!” She nuzzled her giddy face into his chest.

Gray was still dumbfounded at the pile of defeated wood that laid in front of him. He couldn’t process what Juvia was even saying. Just a second ago she was struggling to stay conscious, stuck on the enemy, and now she was completely fine and safe with Gray.

“Uh— What exactly— just happened?” Gray stammered. He finally began to reciprocate the hug by resting a hand on the top of Juvia’s back as his other hand ruffled through his hair.

“Hm?” Juvia pulled herself out of Gray’s chest and rose a curious eyebrow. She noticed he still had his eyes locked onto what used to be the great and powerful Metro and turned her head to match his gaze, and then quickly turned back to Gray. “Oh! That! Juvia can get pretty—erm—- crazy when her emotions get a little out of control.” She chuckled nervously, realizing that what she did was a bit much.

“Yeah... you don’t say.” Gray huffed.

“But Juvia couldn’t help it!” She threw herself right back onto him. “Gray-sama just said the best and most romantic words ever! Juvia had to give you a great big hug as soon as possible!” She giggled and snuggled back up all over again.

Gray snorted. “Wow.” He wiped his hair out of his eyes. It all happened so fast. Gray’s mind was running a mile of minute just a second ago thinking how he would rescue Juvia, but she went and rescued herself.

“You are... You’re incredible, you know that?” His breath was still stolen, but gave a chuckle at the end.

“Me?!” Juvia pulled away with wide eyes.

“Yes, you!” He finally looked down at her.

“Here I was so worried about protecting you and keeping you safe, but... you don’t really need me to do that, do you?”

“Well, of course Juvia wants Gray-sama to protect her! That is music to Juvia’s ears!” She swooned for a moment. “But don’t forget, Juvia is a Fairy Tail wizard. I know how to hold my own.” She smiled surely.

There he had it. Gray just got that closure he’d been searching for all this time, but Juvia took his closure and flipped it upside down. She gave him closure, but even better, she proved to him that he didn’t need to keep waiting to be “strong enough” or “confident enough”. He was confident enough and felt so strongly, that he didn’t need any of the validation that he thought he needed. All he needed was her, and he didn’t have to keep pushing off his feelings anymore.

Tears rushed to his eyes as he swfitly brought Juvia back into his embrace. “Thank you.” He said softly, tightening his arms.

“Thank you, Gray-sama.” Juvia wrapped her arms further.

They stood there for a while, just in each other’s hold.

After some time, Juvia’s legs began to wobble a bit as she felt light headed, and her stance struggled, causing her to take a step to the side and lose her grip.

“Juvia!” Gray exclaimed, concerned. “Are you alright?” He pulled her away.

“Well,” She chuckled. “Juvia did just exert a lot of magic energy back there, and while I can take care if myself, Juvia’s not invincible either.”

Gray matched Juvia’s grin. “Alright, let’s get you somewhere to rest. Can you walk?”

“Yes.” Juvia nodded. She took a few steps forward perfectly fine, and then she paused. A light bulb went off in her head.

“Well-“ Her voice pitch rose. “Actually, Juvia is feeling sooo weak! Juvia doesn’t think she can walk! Gray-sama will have to carry her!” She dramatically wailed, but as usual, Gray saw right through her antics.

“Yeah, nice try.” He scoffed.

“Aww...” Juvia’s shoulders sunk. It was worth a shot.

Gray smirked and rolled his eyes. “Here, just in case, wrap your arm around me.”

Juvia lit up all over again. “Ok! That’ll work.” Gray squatted a bit so Juvia could wrap her arm around his shoulders. Gray’s one hand held onto Juvia’s while the other wrapped around her waist for stability.

“Oh, and by the way,” Gray blushed. “I did mean what I said.”

Juvia was a bit confused, and she raised a brow.

Gray grumbled. “Ya’ know, about you being my power to live, or whatever.” He looked down, embarrassed. “I really did mean it.” He looked back at Juvia who had the same expression she had on her face the first time he said it. He quickly averted his gaze again.

“And, actually, you’re not just my power to live. You’re a whole bunch of other stuff too. You’re—well— my world, honestly.” He finally finished, and he felt a huge weight lifted from his shoulders when he finally said it.

Juvia gasped with delight, and she tilted her head into Gray. She giggled as they continued walking, and she tightened her grip on Gray’s hand.

“Well, that makes Juvia very happy. Juvia feels the exact same.”

#gruvia #doyouevenshipbr0 #gray x juvia #juvia x gray #fairy tail #gruvia fanfic #fairy tail 100 yq #gruvia fanfiction #fairy tail 100 years quest #ft 100 yq #gruvia drabble

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lucas-koh · 4 years

Text

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC III

Please go and read Parts 1-2 if you haven’t already! It’s all uploaded on my Ao3 margotmuses too

Doesn’t exactly follow canon, but elements of canon. FWB.

Song: Magnets - Disclosure, Lorde

Rating: M

Words: 3603

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno

Chapter Three: It Clicks Into Place

Soon enough, difficult day after difficult day, the group’s housewarming party rolled around. They all had work during the day, so had set up some of the stuff the night before, such as drinks on the table and making sure the apartment looked ok.

Work was long, arduous, but just as rewarding as ever. The group went round last minute inviting as they saw people throughout the day, even though they’d already invited a bunch of people. Elijah was starting to get worried about the apartment being overrun, but Sienna was confident it would be controlled. Famous last words? Positively for Suki, the party planning had meant the group had gotten closer, which she was very glad about. Elijah gave her an occasional look she couldn’t decipher, but they became fewer and further between as the days went on.

After Suki got home, she showered off the day and changed into a lacy black top and some blue denim mom jeans. The classic jeans and a nice top never failed. After a once over in the mirror she stepped out of her room, being sure to lock it before going to the main room. God forbid someone mistake her bedroom for the bathroom.

For that moment, it was just the residents of the apartment, and they were able to squeeze in a nice bonding chat and a couple of drinks before the hordes arrived. Jackie laughed about their landlord Farley’s reaction if a lot of people were to turn up, earning a nervous chuckle from Elijah. Suki and Sienna made a bet that if the apartment ended up overrun, they’d pour each other a mystery shot.

The guests started arriving in waves as soon as the start time came around. There were nurses, doctors, lots of people Suki didn’t even recognise. Maybe they’d gone a little overboard with the invites. After only a small while there was a sea of heads waving through the apartment.

They all played host, mingling round the various groups, chatting politely, making small talk about the hospital, getting drinks.

And then through the door, over the sea of heads, swaggered someone Suki wasn’t expecting to see.

Oh god. It was Bryce. Gold streaked hair and deep beige skin instantly recognisable. Wearing black jeans and a blue Henley, rolled up to the sleeves, Bryce looked very different from the scrubs she’d gotten used to. But it certainly wasn’t a bad different. He was with a couple of the surgical interns Suki recognised, laughing at something one of them said and scanning his eyes around the party. She watched to wait and see if his eyes crinkled up the way they had when he was with her before. Almost instantly her stomach flipped and she could feel his hands on her body: where his large, rough hands had held her neck, her leg, grazed over her waist and backside. In that moment she considered just going over and kissing him again, just for another taste of his lips. To wipe that stupid smile off his face. Or to flatten the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he laughed. But she didn’t. She manoeuvred herself into a group to hide herself, but she could still see him.

She distinctly remembered not inviting him, she hadn’t even spoken to him since the supply closet. Unless you count him coming to take her patient into surgery, the patient calling him ‘Ken Doll’, and Bryce winking at her before leaving. There had been a pretty clear reason. She’d been far too embarrassed, and honestly, she wasn’t sure how he’d react to her inviting him to the party either. Some people might take that kind of invitation as a date, and that definitely wasn’t what she wanted him to think. It was just a hookup. A one-time hookup which had been very, very nice, but that was all. But he was here anyway. And here she was again, hot in the face. After all, all her housemates had met him at Donohue’s, so one of them must’ve invited him. Suki needed a drink.

She grabbed herself a vodka soda and wedged herself pretty deliberately into a conversation with a group of nurses. It wasn’t the most riveting conversation, but Suki took it to sip rather substantially at her drink. They were discussing an episode of a TV show Suki didn’t watch, so she nodded and laughed. After about five minutes, she politely excused herself to go and find Sienna. She’d promised her shots, after all – the flat was well and truly packed.

She spotted Sienna leaning on the kitchen counter talking to a handsome nurse, her sweet features plastered in a warm smile. Suki decided it was maybe best not to interrupt her, but she needed a top up anyway, so headed that way regardless. As she squeezed through people toward the drinks, she spotted Bryce talking to a couple of girls not so far away from her destination. Hm, no big surprise there. It would save her a lot of anguish to sneak past without him noticing her, at least until she had a few more drinks in her system.

Just as Suki tried to sneak past, eyes staring at the spot she was going to, an intern to her right stepped back with a laugh. Since she wasn’t looking, or expecting that, Suki was knocked from her feet and shoved to her left.

Right into Bryce.

He broke her fall, thankfully, but she wished to whoever might be listening that she might be able to go one week without being embarrassed around this man. Had she pissed off some seriously influential people in a past life? His reflexes were quick, but not quick enough to have been able to catch her when he’d had his back to her. Which meant he must’ve noticed her before. Her paper cup laid trodden in on the ground beneath them.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” Bryce said behind her in a low, quiet voice as he gripped Suki’s shoulders to steady her.

“Trust me, if it was by choice we wouldn’t be meeting at all,” she bit back. She wasn’t entirely sure where the venom in her voice came from, and it definitely wasn’t true. She at least liked to look at the guy, eye candy wasn’t something to complain about. Perhaps it was a defence to get ahead of herself.

“Oof,” he mocked a face of pain, hands still warm on Suki’s upper arms. “Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now.”

“How can I be ignoring you when this is the first I’ve seen you in a while.”

He moved his arms downward to Suki’s forearms and leaned in closer to her face, ghosting above her. One move and he could kiss her.

“You mean since my lips blew your mind.”

She scoffed. “I think you’re overestimating.”

He chuckled, a smug grin spreading across his face. “That definitely wasn’t the impression I was getting.”

“Hm,” Suki wasn’t sure how to respond, and took to looking around at the partygoers nearby.

“I was probably the best damn kiss you’ve ever had,” he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. She felt one of his hands lose the grip on her arm, one of his fingers curling under her chin to turn her face to his. He seemed slightly buzzed, his natural confidence elevated.

“You’re practically a stranger.”

He lifted the finger up her face, and dragged it seductively down the side of Suki’s face. She tried to hide her shocked intake of breath. All signs of the gentle, comforting surgeon when he’d first stumbled into the supply closet were gone. Only the cocky, flirtatious airs floated around their interaction, an aroma of tequila wafting warmly over her face.

“I just know you’ve kissed strangers before. And I can tell I was the best.” There was a hypnotising glint of mischief in his eyes.

He was right, of course. About both of those facts. It had been a while before Bryce but she could still remember never having kissed someone quite like that. Except maybe that one time in college when she’d been drunk at a frat party. But certainly not sober. She had never had time for serious relationships, so she rarely got with the same person twice. She chuckled, stepping back from him and with it letting a rush of cool air wash over her in replacement of his body heat.

Her head seemed to clear a little.

“You can make all the assumptions you like, you’re not getting anything out of me.” She teased.

He clicked his tongue playfully at this and said: “a couple more drinks and I reckon you’re a bit of a blabbermouth drunk.”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Touché.”

Just then, a hand landed on Suki’s shoulder.

“Is this scalpel jockey bothering you?” Jackie grinned.

“Always,” Suki laughed, shooting a grin at Bryce to let him know she wasn’t serious. He chuckled and greeted Jackie.

After a while longer, a large group of them were chatting: Suki, Bryce, Jackie, Elijah, and one of Bryce’s surgical intern friends called Fred. Sienna was still talking with the cute nurse, and Aurora was nowhere to be seen.

“So when I was at Harvard,” Fred began, he’d been driving the conversation for a while now, and it was pretty obvious that everyone was getting a bit bored of it. “We had absolute ragers, you know, proper parties.”

Jackie sneered at him. “If you’re not enjoying yourself you can leave.”

Fred laughed, but it seemed a little uneasy.

“No, I was just trying to share my college stories.”

College stories. Suki had a few of those. Jackie crinkled her nose at Fred but supplied her own story anyway.

“Well, thank god I never knew you at Harvard,” Jackie said to Fred, playfulness in her voice however. He laughed and they started their own little conversation about their college days. The other three stood a little awkwardly, now cut from the discussion.

“Time for me to get a drink I think. As we know my UChicago days weren’t all that exciting,” Elijah looked a bit flustered, and wheeled away with a wave to Bryce and Suki.

Bryce turned to face her, both of them considerably drunker than before. His eyes sparkled in the blur Suki was seeing him through.

“They called me Party God in college,” he bragged, smirking cockily.

And there it was. At his words it all came flooding back to her in cascades. Oh my god.

“I’ve figured it out. Where I know you from!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do tell.” The red cup in his hand looked incredibly at home, fitting into his large rough hands.

She scoffed and shook her head. How could she forget? How on earth had it taken her so long? She supposed he did look quite different, but still.

“Stanford. You went to Stanford.”

He mocks a gasp. “I did?”

Bryce Lahela had been the life of the party without ever actually having to get involved with things. He’d managed to be everyone’s favourite frat boy despite not being part of a fraternity. Everyone there had known him by name.

His hair was lighter and shorter now, and he seemed to have gotten even more handsome, and certainly more muscular. But it was definitely him. God. She was so stupid to not have worked it out yet, to never have gotten his last name.

And oh god. Oh fucking hell. She watched him in horror as the memory of essentially their only interaction from college dawned on her.

They’d made out once. At a stupid frat party.

That’s why kissing him had felt so familiar!

—-

Suki was drunk. She was finally letting herself loose for once, taking a moment away from her studies. It wasn’t like she was a robot or anything, she was just incredibly determined. No complaining about a party – but a frat party? Maybe slight complaining. But her roommate had insisted she come, and she couldn’t say no. Kiana had this thing going on with a frat boy, so she just *had* to go.

So Suki put on a nice floral dress and a bit of makeup, hoping it would be enough to let her in. She didn’t even want to get into the ridiculousness of Frats’ looks based systems. The whole Greek system was fucked. No mind though, Suki was only there to get her degree to go to med school, and eventually become a qualified doctor. And sometimes get a little too drunk and take home a stranger. She had to blow off steam somehow. So she and Kiana pre-drank a little before heading down to the venue.

Kiana grabbed her hand as they walked up to the huge frat house. There were stragglers outside, and the house was lit up by lights systems and pounding music. They were let in and the inside was foaming with beer and drunk college kids. Suki was already stumbling, no way she was planning to attend a frat party even remotely sober.

Abandoned for Kiana’s frat boy, Suki aimlessly wandered the large, teeming house, until she found some drinks. A group of guys nearby were playing beer pong.

“Hey, you! We need one more for the team, you in?” One of the guys noticed her watching and called out to her.

“Why the fuck not,” she slurred, throwing her hands out to the side of her.

She wasn’t very good at the game, and the guy she was up against was very good. This lead to many more beers downed by Suki.

“Oops,” the boy grinned as he sunk another ping pong ball into one of Suki’s cups. “Sorry, I’m kind of good at everything.”

She was taken aback by his confidence, and was even more determined to land her shot. And… score!

He winced playfully as he watched her take her perfect shot, and the wide, heavy lidded grin which spread across her face as a result.

“Alright, alright. I like a good challenge.” He was playful, smooth, no slips in his demeanour despite the intoxicated buzz emanating from him. Or, perhaps, it was more a buzz of Suki’s slow intoxication from his manner.

He sunk the ball and once again Suki was throwing back the wheaty liquid. Then, the next two players took the table and Suki was thinking she should maybe take a momentary break at least from the drinking. She should at least check Kiana was okay.

“Hey, you okay? You sunk quite a few cups back there.” Her beer pong opponent stepped out from behind the table to where she moved toward the door to another room.

“No thanks to you,” she teased, leaning against the nearby wall to balance herself. He mirrored her.

A leather jacket hugged his slim frame. Suki scanned her eyes down his white shirt, blue jeans, and black Dr Marten boots. Now he was closer, she could see his sculpted features clearer, and she’d seen those before.

“You! You’re in my anatomy class,” she slurred, pointing a curved finger between his eyes. He momentarily crossed them as he looked at her finger, giving a moment for Suki to drunkenly admire the warm deep brown of them.

“I’m very good at anatomy,” he swiped a lock of long hair behind an ear and shot Suki a cheeky grin.

“I know, you’re veeeerrryy smart,” she slurred. He chuckled, the double entendre of his words going straight over her head.

“Not as smart as you.” He leaned against the wall, sipping from his red cup. She knew this guy was popular, and she could see why. He was confident, attractive, and damn smart. He always had a gaggle of girls and guys surrounding him before lectures, the only reason she even knew who he was was because everyone did. Even if you’d never met him, if you were the 2014 graduating class of Stanford – you knew the name Bryce Lahela.

She couldn’t help herself stutter at his compliment; she knew it was flirty bullshit, and that he probably had no idea who she was, but it was delightful to hear. And he was looking at her with those deep brown eyes from under his eyelashes, plump lips tugged up in a mischievous grin, ghosting gentle dimples on his cheeks. And the room might’ve been spinning, and he may have been a blur, but she knew what she wanted to do.

One of his hands reached out to brush across her jawline, eyes trained on hers and lips still teasing her with that smile.

And then she was kissing him. Her fingers threaded through his long brunette locks, and he held her waist tightly. He responded assumingly; he had known this interaction would end this way.

—-

“Yeah, I did,” he repeated, more sincerely this time. He gave her a shit eating grin. He must’ve known this whole time, he must’ve remembered her. The way his eyes flitted down to Suki’s parted – from the shock - lips told her all she needed to know.

“I told you I knew you.”

“Well, college was a long time ago now, and you know how many people attend one University. I don’t remember everyone who went there,” he shrugged, eyes sparkling teasingly. Okay. So he was going to play it like that?

“Uh-Huh. Well I wasn’t much at college but you certainly made a name for yourself.”

He shrugged, “I can’t help that everyone loves me.”

She looked around the apartment dramatically, craning her head over Bryce’s tall shoulders and behind herself.

“I don’t see people lining up to talk to you…” she sucked air through her teeth mockingly.

He chuckled.

“Yeah, alright alright. You just wait a minute.”

There was an electric moment where they both simply stared at each other, light grins playing on their faces.

The night went on, Suki and Bryce breaking off to chat with different people, and do a little bit of dancing. There was an awkward moment when Suki was having a conversation with Ines and Zaid walked up. He eyed Suki with judgement, and watched Bryce where he was over by the bar chatting with a group.

Now that Suki knew what she’d been trying to grasp for a while now, it was like a whole buffet was laid in front of her. She had all these possibilities of what she could do with this information, how she could act about it. And as she got drunker, and drunker, she figured out exactly what it was she wanted to do.

The apartment was clearing out by that point, so as to keep their landlord off their backs, and because many of the attendees had shifts coming up or simply needed time to recuperate.

When the apartment was pretty much fully empty, the group started clearing up. Much to Suki’s surprise, Bryce was filling bin bags with red cups and empty beer cans.

“Woah, thanks for helping clear up.”

“No sweat,” he shrugged like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m going to bed,” Jackie groaned across the room. “No one wake me.”

“Me too,” chimed in Sienna, giving the surface one last swipe with the antibacterial spray.

“Me three,” said Elijah. The apartment looked almost the same as it had pre-party.

“Did anyone see Aurora all night? I texted and she read it…”

But Suki’s question fell on deaf ears, everyone had already retreated to their bedrooms. She sighed. Bryce stood in front of her, tying the top of the bin-bag, gorgeous features furrowed with focus.

“Hey, you can head home. The help is very appreciated.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll see you ‘round the hospital?” He stepped away from the bin-bag and towards where Suki was stood.

She nodded, not quite in control of her legs which were stepping toward him.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

“At work. No where else. Definitely not hiding in supply closets…” Bryce was practically whispering now, voice low with desire. His eyes switched between hers, and down to her lips for a split second. Suki was drumming her fingers against her thigh in a sort of nervous rap, but the alcohol meant she could keep her eyes trained on Bryce’s god-like face. The movement also pulled Bryce’s eyes down to her thigh for a moment, and he swallowed hard.

“Nope. I don’t want anyone finding me in there again…”

By now their faces were so close they could feel the other breathing.

“Although, there are a few things that could be started in a supply closet and not so much finished…”

“Yeah? What’s that?” She lifted a corner of her mouth up.

And the next second Bryce’s lips were on hers. Rough, desperate, fervent as they had been the last time. He no longer tasted like fresh mint, this time of tequila and secret moments.

His hands found her waist quickly, tracing up from the spot she’d been tapping at a minute ago, her own hands cupping his neck. She could feel the muscles in his neck move each time he kissed her.

They walked backwards towards the hall, stumbling and feeling for objects because they didn’t want to break apart.

A fairly loud bang rang out across the apartment as Bryce pushed Suki up against her bedroom door.

“Shhhh,” she giggled into his mouth, causing him to quietly laugh as well. It felt like they were teenagers doing something forbidden at their parents’ house. Their lips connected again, hungry, needing.

Suki felt around beside her, and found the doorknob to her bedroom.

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