#but remembering “oh shit i have a social media life too” is like dammit i dont wanna leave that with nothing

[amymel86]

Bitches keep starting new Jonsa fics!

I’m bitches.

Shit. It happened again. Sansa really doesn’t need to be thinking about this on the day before her wedding but it happened AGAIN. The Red Keep Hotel’s 400 thread count, Braavosi cotton sheets are still balled up in her clenched fists. Sweat still dampens her brow.

A quick look over at the heavy blackout curtains shows no hint of daylight peeking from around the drapes. And stretching over to unplug her charging phone confirms that it is not yet dawn on this – her ‘Wedding Day Eve’ as Beth had coined it.

Should she make a call to her therapist once the world starts to wake up? She won’t go into great detail this time of course – but Sansa had thought that these dreams had stopped. It’s been ages since he’s featured in them and tonight-

Tonight...

Tonight he’d fucked her in her wedding dress.

Oh, Gods! How awful is that? Sansa is due to get married in under 48 hours and she’s dreaming of having sex with her groom’s brother?!

Deep breath.

Sansa closes her eyes.

In.

Out.

What was it that Brienne had suggested during their last session when she’d brought up the dreams?

“You may be manifesting these kinds of dreams because Jon is one of – if not the only – person that, outwardly, doesn’t show that he likes you. You’ve admitted yourself that you are a people-pleaser, Sansa, and I can imagine having someone in your life that you can’t seem to please would frustrate you very much.”

She was right, of course. It did frustrate her. Sansa was good at getting on with people – with everybody.

Except for Jon.

Even when they were younger, back in the north. That was before his dad had made contact with him – back when all he was was Miss Snow’s boy – the boy next door – the boy who was Robb’s best friend. He was always at their house but Sansa had little to no interest in him at the time and she was sure he had felt the same.

They were just too different.

The only time she really remembers having any kind of connection with him was when she’d hugged him for beating Joff’s ass when he’d hit her. But even that – she’s sure he’d only stepped in out of a sense of loyalty to Robb. The rest of the time he hardly acknowledged her beyond a bored looking grunt.

He’d gone away to college and Sansa had heard through Robb and Arya that he’d later dropped out, tried his luck down in King’s Landing at one of his father’s many, many investment businesses.

That hadn’t worked out either.

Sansa had just about forgotten all about Jon Snow – the boy next door – when, just three years ago, he’d contacted her via her old email of all things – couldn’t he have slid into her DMs on one of her socials like a normal person?

After short chats back and forth for a while – honestly, Sansa hadn’t been aware that Jon even knew how to hold a conversation until then - she’d found out that he had stayed down in King’s Landing and owned his own tattoo parlour now – a far cry from the respectable suit and tie gig that his father had envisioned for him.

He knew she was desperate to visit the capital and invited her to do just that.

That had been the first time she’d met his brother, her now fiancé, Aegon.

... and now she can’t seem to stop having sex dreams about a man who is decidedly not her husband-to-be. Honestly, he’s not even nice to her half the time and she doesn’t even know why – what has she ever done to him that was so bad? Aegon says Jon’s just too used to living and working in Fleabottom now – that the rough side of the city has rubbed off on him and caused him to forget his manners.

Sansa wonders if he ever had any in the first place?

Then she remembers how his lack of manners had made her react in one of those dreams and she can feel her whole body flush from her head to her toes.

“Mmm, fuck! You all wet for me, Princess?” Jon rumbles, his strong hands pinning her wrists back into the bed as he fills her. She whines before cutting off the noise with a bite to her lip. “Oh no, none of that,” he nips, teasing out her plump bottom lip with his own teeth, “I wanna hear aaall the noises Little Miss Perfect makes when she comes.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest as she stares up at him above her, a devious smirk on his face while he fucks her slow and measured.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth, Jon Snow,” she hisses.

His smile doesn’t falter, his hands tighten around her wrists above her head. “I think you like my dirty mouth.” His hips halt their torturously drawn-out movements and he stills, his cock completely buried inside her. He kisses Sansa with more force and desperation than she’s ever experienced, all while his body lay heavy and still above her. She squirms and whimpers – she wants more. Jon lets a self-satisfied chuckle escape their kiss.

“I hate you!” she pants when he finally releases her from his lips. His tattooed arms skim down her frame and then faster than is possible, he flips them so that she now straddles his hips. Sansa braces herself on his chest as he grins up at her.

“That’s right, baby,” he coos, voice rough, hands smoothing up and down her thighs, “show me how much you hate me, sweetheart.”

“Christ,” Sansa curses, falling back against the sheets at the memory. She stares up at the ceiling for two, maybe three seconds before rolling to her side. Huffing, Sansa shoves a pillow between her legs and prays for more sleep – preferably dreamless.

***

Fuck! Jon wants to throw something – his phone, a pillow – something. He can’t because Ygritte is asleep beside him, here in this swanky hotel bed in the middle of the night. But Jon can’t sleep. He doesn’t know why he can’t sleep – well, that’s a barefaced fucking lie but Jon refuses to look too closely at it because if he does, he’ll get mad all over again and even further from drifting off.

The night is dead still and heavy as he sits up, letting the fancy, soft sheets fall away from around his waist. Briefly, Jon considers waking Ygritte up and offering to go down on her – that always led to sex and if he got some, maybe he could sleep? Urgh – no. That was pretty fucking selfish. Plus, his girlfriend has been in a mood with him since she’s not keen on weddings, nor his family and Jon is kind of forcing her to go to this thing anyway.

There was no fucking way that he was gonna show up alone to watch his brother marry Little Miss Perfect. The only way he managed to sway her was by revealing that his father had already paid for their suite for three nights and that there would be a free bar at the wedding.

Sighing, Jon scrubs his hands down his face and reaches for his glasses. His phone tells him that it’s 2am.

The en suite bathroom light flickers on and the extractor fan kicks in instantly. Jon cuts the noise as fast as he can by flipping the exterior switch. Ygritte turns over in bed but doesn’t wake.

Closing the door with a soft click, Jon lets out a breath. The light overhead hums quietly and the reflection in the over-sink mirror is a sorry and accusing one. Bracing his weight on the porcelain sink, Jon glares at himself. His eyes catch on one of the first tattoos he’d ever gotten; a dragonfly in flight over his heart.

“Fucking hell, you’re pathetic,” he whispers to himself.

Maybe he just needs to jerk off and then he’ll be able to sleep?

Jon snorts snidely at himself. Yeah, ‘cause that’s not pathetic at all. Christ.

He almost walks out the bathroom but then stops, coming back to the basin and opening his phone. It’s not pathetic. He is a man – he has needs, dammit! As long as he’s just looking at generic porn and doesn’t open up that hidden file he has that contains images and videos from a certain person’s social media, then it’s fine – it’s all fine!

His traitorous thumb hovers over that file none-the-less.

Oh, so we’re just gonna jerk off to pictures of the bride on the day before her wedding, are we?

“I can’t handle this,” he grumbles - grinds the heels of his palms into his eyes until he sees sparkles.

Standing in the doorway, the light from the bathroom behind him floods in and lands upon one of the little amenity tables backed up against the adjacent wall. On top had been an expensive looking vase of fresh roses and a professional brochure listing all the important information about the hotel and their stay. It had boasted a long list of facilities – including a 24hr gym.

If Jon’s feeling too guilty to see to his frustrations one way – perhaps he should try another.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #jonsa ff #modern au

[twinkleimagines]

✨Don’t fucking touch her✨

(Yes , those are Toms hands 🤧)

Summary: Tom is your best friend and finds out that the guy you’re dating is extremely toxic and abusive.

WARNING: this contains physical and verbal abuse, please be cautious reading this if it’s a trigger!

“ okay I’ll see you soon.. love you too , Bye” you had just gotten off the phone with your best friend of 6 years, Tom Holland. You hadn’t seen him in over two months because your boyfriend believed there was more to the friendship than meets the eye. You and Tom had a history yes but it didn’t last long because you both agreed you were better off as friends. Unfortunately though your boyfriend of 6 months Anthony thought you were nothing but a big flirt and a cheater. He accused you of cheating with any guy you were nice to. It was Toms birthday today though and you weren’t going to miss seeing him no matter what.

Anthony was scheduled to work in an hour so you had called Tom to come get you so you could hang out for his birthday, of course you had to hide this because when Anthony gets mad he gets.. abusive.

You still could remember the first time he had hit you. Your ear was swollen for 3 days straight, all because he found you sitting with his coworker while he was at work ‘ flirting’ according to him. You weren’t flirting though, you were just being friendly. He had stayed quiet the whole ride to your house but the moment you had gotten inside he shoved you so hard you fell to the ground. You had gotten up to defend yourself when he hit you on the side of the head with a closed fist, causing your ear to ring and everything to blur.

After that, it seemed to be a weekly thing. Anthony would find any reason to put his hands on you. In public he would pull your hair, and pinch you so he’s you would want to cry . But out of fear you never spoke up to anyone . Anthony was pretty popular, especially with lawyers and even a few judges, so you assumed that if you ever were to speak out against him he would turn the tables on you and get away with it.

The worst out of it all though was how much he would isolate you from anyone who cared about you. You didn’t see your family much as it is but Tom, he completely cut him off. The only thing item you could talk to Tom was when Anthony was gone, and it was hard to do that too because you couldn’t tell Tom why you were only available to talk 9 hours out of the day , 5 days a week.

But regardless you weren’t going to let Anthony keep you down. You were going to enjoy today with your best frie-

“ who the fuck was that?” You heard from behind you. Oh my fucking God .

“I-it was my mom “ you said quickly , giving him a fake smile.

“ why is your mom coming here?” He questioned crossing his arm. He didn’t sound convinced in the slightest, but even if it was your mom he’d still be assuming the same thing. He honestly petrified you. He was tall and stocky, he could literally lift you with one hand and he was not gentle when he would hit you.

“ she’s just dropping something off babe” you stated, but then your phone started to vibrate..

Tom was calling.

“ give me that” Anthony said snatching your phone from his hand. You quickly tried to grab it back as he looked at the screen , seeing Toms contact name popped up on your screen.

“ you better tell me now whose coming or so fucking help me” he stated now towering over you.

“ I-it’s Toms birthday I just wanted to celebrate with him” you stated. Your body was already trembling at this point , you had no idea what was coming next from him but you knew it was nothing good. Anthony sighed heavily with frustration before typing into your phone .

‘ don’t bother coming over , it’s best we lose contact too’ he sent .

“ that’ll teach him to mess with my girl.” The way he said that made you shiver. It wasn’t a cute little statement , no this one was possessive. He really saw you as his. A toy that no one else was allowed to touch. Little did he know though that Tom was calling to say he was going to be there early, only 5 minutes away in fact.

“ babe I’m sorry it wasn’t anything like th-“ you let out a Yelp as Anthony through your phone towards you, passing your head and shattering against the wall.

This was it . This was the worst you had seen him. His face was cherry red and his chest was heaving from breathing so hard.

“ I knew you were cheating on me . That’s all you ever do you ungrateful bitch”. Anthony went to take a swing at you but you ducked just in time to go under him, heading for the front door. You had managed to unlock i and open it slightly before Anthony got ahold of your hair , slinging you back. “ where the hell do you think you’re going ?!” He yelled yanking you down to the ground by your hair .

“ Anthony stop!” You screamed trying to get your hair from his hands but his grip was just too tight.

“ I can’t even go make money without you making a fucking fool of me !” He yelled still pinning you down.

“ just let go! “ you yelled trying to get up. “ I’m not cheating !”

“ just shut up!” He yelled yanking you up by the arm before slinging you against the wall next to the door .

“ Anthony plea-“ you were immediately stopped by the feeling of Anthony’s large hand wrapping around your throat. You started cough loudly, tears running down your throat and you swung at his arm, trying to get him to let go of you.

“ you’re nothing but a slut” he said letting go of you, only to drag you towards the hallway by your hair.

“ please let go “ you cried out stumbling to stand up while he dragged you by your hair . He kept yelling and cussing , calling you every name under the book. He had even kicked the side of your face from under, never letting go of your hair . You were screaming and pleading for him to get off of you when all of a sudden you saw him drop to the floor, Tom on top of him hitting his face over and over again. You finally managed to get up on your feet, tugging on Tom to get him off of Anthony. Tom stood over Anthony for a second before crouching down grabbing him by the color of his shirt. Anthony had cuts all over his face bleeding , his nose definitely was broke as well.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her again” Tom said before pushing against Anthony’s head making it hit the floor.

“ c’mon” you said to Tom tugging on his arm. Tom quickly followed you outside where you went to his car, getting in the passenger seat. You couldn’t even strap in before Tom had turned the ignition on , spinning wheels out of your driveway. The ride was silent for a few minutes, Toms knuckles bleeding, just jaw clenching while he squeezed on the wheel.

“ how long has that been going on?” He asked with a stern voice , not taking his eyes off the road. You lowered your head , ashamed.

“ since the first month we got together” you said looking down at your hands. Tom slammed his hand against the steering wheel making you jump.

“ Dammit Y/N!” He yelled. You looked out the window, tears starting to fall. He noticed you Flinch and cowering .

“ I’m sorry darling I just.. I just don’t understand how you could keep something like that away from me “ he said, sadness lingering in his tone . It wasn’t just him though, it was everyone . Sometimes you even tried to forget it and pretend like your relationship was normal .

“ I was scared Tom. I always thought he was going to kill me “ you said your bottom lip trembling . You immediately placed your head in your hands , letting out loud sobs. Tom quickly pulled the car over , wrapping his arms around you.

“ I am so sorry .. and I’m so sorry I didn’t catch on” he spoke softly .

“ what’s going to happen now ?” You mumbled , looking up at Tom. He shook his head .

“ I’m not sure y/n”

***

It had been a week since the incident , and you had been staying at Toms place . He slept on an air mattress in his bedroom floor while you had his bed , even though you had secretly hoped he laid with you, for comfort. No one had heard or seen Anthony either. He was obviously alive from his social media posts but he didn’t seem to have any interest in contacting anyone .

“ y/n you hungry?” Tom asked peaking his head into the bedroom. You looked over towards him grinning. “ I take that as a yes” he laughed before walking back out . Shortly after you heard the doorbell ring. You paused your movie, listening trying to see who it was.

“ you’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here!” You heard Tom yell. Oh shit you thought, that’s Anthony. You quickly jumped up, running towards the front door before anything happened. When you got there you saw Tom standing there with his fist clenched, and Anthony with fear written all over his face .

“ I just came to apologize to y/n” Anthony said trying to reason.

“No” Tom said shaking his head. “ you’re nothing but a coward who beats on women. Your fucking pathetic mate” he responded, fuming.

“ Tom” you said reaching up to grab Toms arm , trying to calm him down.

“ look , I won’t press charges on Tom if you don’t press charges on me ok” Anthony pleaded. “ all my stuff is out of the house, I’ve moved out you won’t have to hear from me again”. You sat contemplating. Anthony was known in the court system. He could get his way if he wanted to so he must not be all that confident if he’s bargaining . But at the same time you really didn’t want anymore of a reason to associate with him than you had to at this point, and as long as Tom was around you knew you were safe. You looked at Tom and could tell he wanted to tear this boy to shreds but it just wasn’t worth it to you anymore .

“ fine, now leave. I don’t ever want to see your face again Anthony “ you spoke, it was the most confidence you had ever had when speaking out to Anthony . It was obviously because you had raging Tom behind you but still, it felt good to be able to tell Anthony how it is without fearing for your life. Anthony nodded before turning around walking away. You stood there for a second, watching and waiting to make sure he didn’t try anything . He didn’t thankfully, only getting in his car driving away. A sigh of relief came out of your mouth as you shut Toms door only to turn around and see that Tom was no longer there. You scrunched your face up in confusion before walking back to the bedroom to find Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, his head lowered.

“ Why’d you leave?” You asked. You realized he was looking down at his knuckles . They were still red and scratched up, a little swollen from when he beat on Anthony.

“ Tom?” You said softer this time, sitting down next to him.

“ why would let him just get away like that?” He asked, still not looking up at you. “ after all he did to you and for so long he just gets to walk away with a slap on the wrist” he stated. You could tell he was angered with you, and even though you knew Tom would never lay a finger on you , you could feel that same nervous feeling you’d get when Anthony .

“ I-I just don’t ever want to see him again” you stated looking away. “ if we went about pressing charges, then I would still have to be around him and still have to see him.” You stood up fumbling with your fingers. Tom looked up at you , only to see your bottom lip quivering and tears forming. “ you don’t know what he’s like when he’s pissed , the things he did to me- pressing charges would only set him off and. What if you end up in jail and he walks away free? He’ll come find me and you won’t be here “ by this time the tears were streaming down your face as you Reminenced on this long torturous months with Anthony. Tom stood up quickly, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“ shh stop crying” he whispered , rubbing your back. “ I’m sorry okay we won’t bother it” he stated not letting go of you. You both sat in silence as you calmed yourself down to only a few sniffles here and there.

“ I know he’s gone, but I don’t want to go back” you said referring to your home. Tom swueezed a little tighter.

“ you don’t have to love, you can stay here” he stated. As much as you loved that , you couldn’t just keep taking over Toms bed and him sleeping in the floor.

“ Tom, I’d have to go home eventually “ you said taking a step back away from him. He kept his hands holding onto your forearms while shaking his head no.

“ move in” he suggested. You looked up at him to see he was sincere.

“ Tom I can’t just live with my best friend my whole life” you said moving out of his grasp. Tom looked almost hurt by your words. there was a long pause between the conversation before Tom sighed.

“ we could be more than just best friends, y/n” this time it was your turn to look at him with confusion. “ we only broke up all those years ago because we both were fresh into our careers and didn’t have time for relationships“. he wasn’t wrong. If you both didn’t have such busy lives you would still be together . “ I love you Y/n .. and ever since I saw him hurting you I’ve had nightmares. All I want is to keep you safe and protect you”. You thought about it. He was really your whole world. You loved a lot of people but never the way you loved Tom. The way you felt with him, as if nothing in the entire world could touch you because he would standing in front of you blocking it. He excited you in every way possible, even ways you couldn’t admit to yourself, because if you did then that meant you had feelings for him, still.

Your silence worried him , causing him to regret what he had just said. You realized this so you leaned your head foward, your lips puckering up some. Toms eyebrows raised up before he leaned in as well meet you halfway. The kids was long but gentle, something you both had secretly longed for . It was a passionate kiss, his hands sliding against your sides until the were completely wrapped around you. Yours had found their way to his hair, tugging causing his lips to dread apart giving you access. Your tongues danced together, the taste of his blue berry pancakes lingering. Eventually you both had to breath so you pulled your lips away, but the rest of your body staying close to each other.

“ I’m scared” you replied laying your head against his chest. “ I’m so scared that I’m going to fuck up and lose you” you stated, tears forming against at the thought.

“ you could never lose me” he replied before leaning back down kissing you . Some how while you were kissing , you both had managed to lay down on the bed, Tom partially on top of you as he rubbed his hand up and down your thigh. Toms hand then migrated over to your lower belly, his fingers sliding under the hem of your pajama pants. Your mouth opened wide, a gasp coming out as you felt his rough fingers press against your clit. The waves of tingles flowing through you was almost impossible to handle. No one had ever made you feel this way, especially not Anthony. It was always forced and unwanted with him but with Tom, it was pure bliss. Tom stared down at your face as your moans got louder and louder , grinding your hips up against his hand.

By this point Toms fingers were wiggling in you, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your clit.

“ oh Tom” you moaned out, placing your head in the nook of his neck, your walls clenching around his fingers as you orgasmed. You could feel your leg twitching, your hand squeezing tight against his . Tom grinned before removing his fingers, placing them in his mouth to taste you. You giggled shyly covering your face .

“ don’t be shy” he said softly removing your hands to look at you.

“ you’re so beautiful y/n” he stated. You just looked up at him, his brown eyes staring back at you, the morning sunlight glistening in them.

“ I love you Tom” you whispered, rubbing your thumb against his bruised up knuckles.

“ I know, darling” he said kissing your forehead. “ c’mon” he stated sitting up. “ breakfast is probably cold”

#Tom Holland #I’m Holland fan fiction #Tom holland smut #Tom holland fan fiction smut #Tom holland imagine #Tom holland imagines #Tom holland imagine smut #Tom holland imagines smut

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

I love your blog! Have u ever considered making a side blog with rp for the binary bfs? If not/you don’t want to, that’s fine! It’s not for everyone, although if you could link some that do that’d be awesome! Anyways, how do you think Hawk and Demitri met? What was their first date like? Do the karate dads know?- Cherry

Oh my goodness, my inbox has been blowing up lately! :D Imma have to answer like 2 questions a day to have any hopes of keeping up lol

Hey Cherry! OMG thank you so much, I’m so glad you like it :D

TBH idk if I have time to run a full-on RPG sideblog at the moment--truth be told, it’s enough work keeping this one as active as it is! Haha XD I’ll still give all the snippets of that sweet, sweet Demetri x Hawk content that I possibly can on this blog though :D

BUT I think @sipping--snowflakes​ recently started a Demetri RPG blog and is actually looking for someone to roleplay Elimetri with them :D If any of my watchers are interested, hit them up!!! There is much binary boyfriend roleplay fun to potentially be had!!!

ON TO THE QUESTIONS

My personal headcanon on how Demetri and Eli met is that on the first day of kindergarten, Demetri absolutely would NOT shut up about dinosaurs and Star Wars to their class (I mean, come ON, little Demetri HAD to have had a Dinosaur Phase...I know it deep in my heart to be true). He wandered around to basically every table during Center Time/Arts and Crafts Time/Whatever the fuck they call that “free wandering-about-the-classroom-doing-whatever-activities-you-want time” in elementary school and chatted the ear off of every boy and every group of boys in the class (remember, this is Tiny Demetri, who DEFINITELY would not have the courage to speak to ANY girl XD). And every single boy, every single group, without fail, responds with “Oh my GOD shut UP go AWAY you’re so ANNOYING you weirdo” and poor little excited Demetri is just crushed that no one wants to hear about tyrannosaurus rexes and lightsabers--or worse, tyrannosaurus rexes HOLDING lightsabers and dueling with them. And then, finally, he gets to little Eli, sitting all alone (because no one wants to befriend the kid with the messed up lip), and LO AND BEHOLD! Someone is finally listening to him!!! And seems to actually care about tyrannosaurus rexes with lightsabers!!! Little Demetri is beyond thrilled to have someone to talk to. Little Eli, meanwhile, is also thrilled, because did this kid just talk his ear off about Obi-Wan Kenobi for 20 minutes straight and not mention the lip scar once? Demetri, meanwhile, is so caught up in his rambling that he doesn’t notice the goddamn lip scar is even THERE until they’ve already spent half the day together XD “ANYWAYS I THINK ONCE THE JEDI ORDER COMES BACK AFTER RETURN OF THE JEDI THEY SHOULD RIDE STEGOSAURUSES AND--oh, what happened to your lip?”

As for their first date...had to think for a while about the perfect first date for them would be. I was originally gonna say they’d just go down to Santa Monica Pier or something and just goof off, but I think Demetri would want to make it more special than that. I ended up headcanoning that they’ve always wanted to go to Universal Studios together growing up (mainly because of Harry Potter World, of course!!!), but neither of their families have ever really been able to afford it. BUT when Demetri and Eli finally get together, Demetri is like “fuck it, we’re finally gonna do this” and he saves up basically all the money he’s made at summer jobs and buys tickets for both of them to surprise Eli. Eli is so happy he starts crying, and then he gets angry he’s crying in front of Dem and is like “GOD DAMMIT STOP LOOKING AT ME THIS IS SO EMBARASSING, I’M TOUGH” and Demetri thinks it’s the cutest, funniest thing ever XD Then Demetri drives them both down to Universal and they both just have the best goddamn day of their lives and buy WAY more merchandise from Harry Potter World than is in any way wise XD And becoming “Hawk” has, for better or for worse, laid bare Eli’s inner adrenaline junkie, and he drags poor Demetri on every. Single. Roller coaster. Don’t worry, Eli is more than happy to hold his hand during the scary drops XD But Eli will not rest until they’ve ridden EVERY fast ride in the park and Demetri whines about it but secretly he just likes seeing his boyfriend that shamelessly excited about something! Also Dem takes a million cheesy couple selfies and posts them all over social media bragging about his cute bf, much to Eli’s embarrassment.

“Karate Dads” fksljchcbduswvc I love that this is like...the universal term for Daniel and Johnny now. I honestly could not be happier about it XD Daniel I’m sure would pick up on it first (Johnny, though I love him dearly, is just so very DENSE sometimes), either just kinda by reading the room or hearing about it through Sam (who probably has mixed feelings on it herself). I imagine being as protective of Demetri as he is, Daniel would pull him aside at some point and be like “Demetri wasn’t this guy the reason you pushed yourself to learn self-defense in the first place??? And now you want to DATE him??? Are you sure???” and Demetri of course would be like “Yeah he was in a really dark place then, but I’ve known him basically my whole life and I know he’s got a good heart!” and Daniel would probably be wary about it, but ultimately decide Demetri’s a smart enough guy to handle himself and trust him to make his own judgements. And of course, he’d figure if Sam can vouch for an ex Cobra Kai like Miguel turning over a new leaf and trying to be better, there’s no reason Hawk can’t, too. And seeing how much Eli cares about Demetri and how protective he’s gotten of Dem helps too, and Daniel would probably warm up to Eli eventually. Although, like Sam, I imagine it would take a cool minute. Johnny would probably find out through chatting with Hawk, and Hawk just kinda...accidentally lets it slip he and Demetri are dating, and Johnny just quizzically raises an eyebrow like “Oh? You’re dating the mouthy kid?” And Hawk just goes bright-ass red and Johnny remembers how Demetri went off on him on the first day of Cobra Kai all those months ago for making fun of Hawk’s lip, and he breaks into this HUGE shit-eating smirk like “yeeeeeah that doesn’t surprise me at all. Eh, it’s probably for the best. If anyone can toughen that kid up, it’s you. Although I hear he DID hand your ass to you when he kicked you into that trophy case, so maybe he’s not as much of a pussy as I thought.” (sidenote: Yes, I do think Johnny ended up hearing about Demetri’s KO kick...and was grudgingly impressed XD) And Hawk just...gawks at Johnny being THIS nonchalant about all of this and he’s just like “Sensei? You...don’t think it’s weird I’m dating a guy?” and Johnny just looks him dead in the eye and says “I don’t give a fuck if whoever you’re making out with has a cock or a pussy, or whatever, as long as it’s not gonna distract you during training. Just play Hide the Salamis on your own time.” And Hawk, now a blushing mess, is just like “Y-YES SENSEI” and stumbles out of the room XD Ironically I think Johnny would probably vouch for the relationship to Daniel later on, and be like “I mean, the kid DID switch sides MID-FIGHT to save that scrawny little nerd. That takes some serious balls, LaRusso. He clearly cares about the wimp, you can stop hovering over them like Demetri’s gonna keel over and die any second.”

Thank you for the ask, as always! More to come!

#hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #demetri x hawk #eli x demetri #elimetri #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #miguel diaz #sam larusso #samantha larusso #daniel larusso #johnny lawrence #hawk #demetri #eli #cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #my askbox

[nights-legacy]

Leader's Blunder - Pt. 1 - Leo

Leo 2014/16

+ Y/N and Leo have been dating for almost 6 months, getting together just after they defeated the Kraang. Lately, Leo has been bailing on Y/N for dates, hang outs, and even helping her in anyway. Y/N is getting fed up and so is everyone else. His brother’s confront him and so does Y/N. When they fight, Leo only then realizes how much he has affected her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

I was sitting on the roof of my apartment building, drumming my fingers against the bricks. I sighed and looked at my phone to see what time it is. 9:58pm. He’s almost 2 hours late. I groaned, setting my head down on the ledge.

“He’s not coming.” I said to no one in particular. “Again.” I got up and walked to the fire escape, making my way back down. I slipped in through the window and closed it.

“Y/N, I thought you and Leo had plans?” I looked over at April who sat on the couch, writing.

“We did but it would seem like I’m the only one who remembered.” I told her taking of my jacket, hanging it on the coat rack nest to April’s yellow leather one. I kicked off my shoes as well.

“Again?” She asked. I nodded. “How many times is that now?”

“I stopped counting about 6 times ago.” I said plopping down next to her. I set my head on her shoulder. She pursued her lips before wrapping her arm around me.

“Wonder what’s up with him.”

“I don’t know but I do know I just about had it.” I said before getting up and walking to my room. “Goodnight sis.”

“Goodnight!”

3rd POV

April watched her sister walk away and slowly close her door. She sighed before looking down at her forgotten article. Setting the laptop aside, April grabbed her phone and texted Donnie. (Italics-April, bold-Donnie)

    *Leo forgot another date with Y/N. What’s going on?*

    *WHAT! Another? We didn’t even know that they had plans. Leo said he was free this evening.*

    *Yeah, Y/N came down deflated. She said he forgot again. I think she’s at the end of her rope Don. I’m seriously thinking if Leo doesn’t do something, they will be done.*

    *Holy shit. This isn’t good. I’ll talk to the guys and see what we can do on our end. And maybe even talk to Leo.*

    *Thanks Don but I don’t think there’s anything I can do on Y/N’s end. She’s made up her mind.*

*Okay. Hopefully we can fix this. Or at least get Leo to see he needs to fix this.*

Donnie looked up from his phone and out his lab door. He heard Raph and Mikey in the living room arguing but no Leo. He got up and walked out, looking for the leader in blue.

“Donnie? What ya’ doin’ bro?” Mikey asked. Donnie held his fingers to his lips and walked over to the dojo. He looked in and saw Leo meditating. He turned back to his other two brothers. He motioned to the lab. The two followed him in.

“What’s this about Don?” Raph asked, crossing his arms.

“Leo.” He said quietly. “April just texted me and said Leo forgot or neglected another date with Y/N.”

“What?” The two looked at him in shock. He just nodded.

“Dammit Fearless.” Raph growled in annoyance. “We’ve told him if he has a date, we can take care of things. It’s not like were helpless. If he keeps neglecting his girlfriend, soon he won’t have one.” He was throwing his arms around.

“Exactly. April said Y/N was at the end of her rope.” Donnie told them.

“Y/N and Leo can’t break up. He’s gotten so much more laid back since they started dating. Who knows what will happen if they break up.” Mikey exclaimed.

“Shut up Mikey!” They shushed him.

“So what do we do?” Mikey whispered.

“We knock some sense into him.” Raph said before storming out. HE ignored his brother’s protests. “Fearless!”

“What Raph?” Leo said before opening his eyes, seeing his brothers run into the dojo.

“What the hell are you doing bailing on Y/N? Again?” Raph berated. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about.” Leo got up and glared at his brother.

“Actually we do, Leo.” Donnie stepped in. “April got a hold of me and told me Y/N said you forgot a date tonight. Was that it or did you decide to bail Leo?” Donnie crossed his arms.

“I decided I needed to focus on our mission. We have to follow up on…”

“We can take care of that Leo!” Mikey yelled. All of them looked at him surprised. “We can handle reconnaissance and information runs. And if we absolutely needed you we know you’re just a phone call away. I think Y/N would understand better and prefer it better if you actually show up and had to be called away instead of not showing up at all. You need to get your priorities straight before lose something that we never thought any of us would ever have. Your blunder in your relationship could cost you major, oh wise leader man.”

“Wow, nice Mikey.” Raph muttered. Mikey didn’t acknowledge his words but kept staring down his brother in blue. Leo just stood there in shock.

“Alright. You’re right. I need to go talk to her.” He said before grabbing his katanas and running out of the lair.

“Mikey, that was some speech.” Donnie looked at the youngest. Mikey just smiled and stood proud.

Y/N’s POV

I was lying in bed, scrolling though social media. I wasn’t really tired and couldn’t go to sleep. My mind had too much going through it. Just as I close out the app on my phone I heard a tap on my window. I sat up and saw Leo. I sighed before getting up.

“What are you doing here Leo?” I asked after I opened the window.

“I thought we needed to talk. Could you come out so we can?” I sighed and nodded. I went and slipped on some shoes and a jacket. I stepped out onto the fire escape before Leo lifted me up and took us to the roof.

“What do you want to talk about?” I asked sitting on one of the boxes.

“Me missing all these dates.” I rolled my eyes but let him continue. “I know I have missed quite a lot of them but I have had reasons. The boys need me and so does the city. I have a duty to uphold.”

“Duty?” I scoffed. “I understand that but even a hero can take a night off Leo! Not every little thing requires your attention. You deserve to rest or have fun every once in a while!”

“No I don’t think you understand. I am the leader of this team. I have the responsibility on my shoulders to make the decisions and make sure this city is safe. And if that means that I have to miss a few measly dates then so be it.” He said sternly.

“Measly? That’s really what you think? I can’t believe you!” I laughed sarcastically. “I understand perfectly about your responsibilities. What I don’t understand is why you have such think blinders on to think that it’s the only thing you have in your life. You use this as an excuse so much that you more of a workaholic than Donatello!”

“You’re overreacting! My brothers need…” He started but I cut him off.

“You’re brothers! It’s always them! Do you realize that they are old enough and smart enough to take care themselves? They don’t need you every moment of every day. I even know that they have told you to go, that they would be fine without you but no! You insist on being there. Oh and the comment this team? I hate to tell you this Leo but I’m not a part of your team. I am your girlfriend.” I took a breath and looked down for a second. “Maybe I shouldn’t be that anymore.”

“What?” He froze. We were both breathing heavy. I crossed my arms and stared at him. “You mean you want to…break up?”

“I don’t what else we could do Leo. Everything I’ve tried to help us you’ve thrown back in my face. Everyone can see that whatever we have left between us is not working.” I signed before walking to the fire escape.

“Y/N, wait.” Leo started to follow me but I held up my hand.

“Goodbye Leo.” I gave him a watery smile before quickly making my down and locking my window as I got inside. I leant against the wall and took a shaky breath. A sob broke through my throat and I slide down the wall with tears streaming down my face.

“Y/N!” April came in worried. She saw me on the ground and sighed. “What happened, sis? Did you and Leo…” I nodded. She looked shocked before coming over, wrapping me in her arms.

3rd POV

While Y/N was being comforted by April, Leo was still standing in the same spot. He couldn’t believe what he had heard. He never realized how much this had affected her or he never let himself see. Purposely, overlooking it.

“What have I done?” He whispered, sorrow coursing through his entire being.

Above him the sky was growing darker and menacing. As a lightning bolt cracked across the sky, rain poured onto the city below. Leo didn’t even flinch as he was soaked to the bone.

“Fitting end.” He said as gave one last look down the fire escape. He ran across the rooftops and made way to a spot only he knew about. As the rain poured down, Leo’s figure solemnly stood over the city, his tear mixing with the rain that soaked the city.

#tmnt #tmnt imagine #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles imagines #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #leonardo tmnt #leonardo imagine #leonardo #leo #imagine #imagines #raphael tmnt #donatello tmnt #michelangelo tmnt #mikey #donnie #raph #april o'neil #leonardo x reader #tmnt imagines #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 2 』

· Sept. 26th → One Ball, Heart and Soul ·

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Testurou Kuroo, Bokuto Koutarou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru, Terushima Yuuji

Prompts: A. favourite position/role + B. travel/journey

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, crack, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020

A/N: I found it so hard to pick a favourite position/role, because they're all so interesting and important, and I love everyone 😭 But I settled on the role of captain because of the headcanons I thought of. Captain Sqaud, assemble! So, want to find out what these boys are like on a road trip?

(Just to be clear, I do love all these guys. None of this is hate 😂) All my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts will be SFW, but I have some NSFW stuff on my blog, too. Feel free to check that out~ Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ Imo~

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Dad-chi™

Comes prepared with all the food, drinks, snacks, med kit, camera – literally everything you could possibly need on a road trip

Plans out the route beforehand down to the tiniest detail nothing gets past this man

As well as multiple backup routes in case there's diversions etc.

Plans for regular breaks at two-hour intervals where everyone can pee, stretch their legs, buy anything they need, etc.

He's the one who's driving he's not letting anybody else get a scratch on his van, lmao

And he's good at it

No speeding he's a cop, y'all but he doesn't dawdle either, no running red lights, turns corners well, keeps an even foot on the gas, etc.

Just a good time, tbh

Nobody is getting car sick because of him that would be a damn disgrace

"Stop fighting right now, or I'm turning this van around"

And will actually do it if you don't stfu, lmfao

Don't even think about making a mess and dropping your rubbish in the van you'll be walking home

Everyone else thinks his music is boring and for old people, but Daichi honestly doesn't care

Besides, it's either that or no music at all, because he needs to concentrate on the road

He takes this shit seriously. People's lives are in his hands, dammit!

☆ Testurou Kuroo ☆

Likes to switch between driving and riding shotgun/being designated navigator

Is fairly decent at both

Is constantly eating something but, like, he probably doesn't even know what it is

Some kind of edible is shoved towards his mouth by whoever's riding shotgun, and in it goes shut up. Not like that, you cretins 😂

Somehow manages to behave like an overbearing grandparent and an overexcited child at the same time?? Nothing new there, I guess 😂

I'm sorry, Kuroo, I love you. Please don't be mad 😭

Has a banging playlist full of throwback songs from the 90s and early 2000s

Drums along sofly on the steering wheel or dashboard constantly

HATES driving in rain he's low-key terrified he's going to aquaplane

Likes driving with the windows wound down and feeling the wind in his hair

Will plan the route, but then forget to save it/print it off, etc.

Cannot work Google Maps or SAT-NAVs to save his life Kenma, please help him

Actually packs properly balanced meals, but is heavy on the snacks, too

You'd think he'd drive too fast, but he's actually really responsible

Constantly telling dad jokes to try and keep people amused the groaners are the best

Would probably fight someone at the gas station if they started being a dick and causing trouble

Kuroo, baby. I love you, but please don't get arrested 😭😂😭

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Dear God, do NOT let him drive leave it to Akaashi, I'm begging you

Has really bad spacial awareness in a vehicle and drifts all over the place

Probably speeds without even knowing it, too

Likes to ride shotgun, but is a terrible navigator, so is nearly always made to ride in the back

Is the loud one that moves around too much and blocks the rear view mirror strap him in tight, Akaashi

Belts along at the top of his voice to whatever music is playing, he's not fussy

Was told to pack essential items in his backpack and proceeded to fill it with sweets and snacks and a pack of condoms??? and thought he did good

Bokuto: Bro, you said they were essential

Akaashi: NOT FOR EVERY SITUATION

Rarely ever has to pee, but when he does, it's always miles away from any service station, and he has to hold it for hours

Has definitely peed at the side of the road multiple times because he couldn't hold it any longer, but he wasn't even embarrassed as numerous cars zoomed past

Likes sticking his head out the window like a dog on the motorway which gives everyone else heart attacks

Like, get the hell back inside you maniac 😭

If the car has a sunroof, he's 100% standing up through it with his hands in the air just you try and stop him

And they will. Everyone will try

"HORSES!!"

Will get out of the car in traffic jams to find out what's going on and end up chatting with random strangers until it starts moving again

And he's very sad when he has to leave his new friends. Droopy hair and emo Kou for the next 2 hours :(

Unironically enjoys playing 'I Spy' for hours at a time

Is a bit much to handle in such a confined space for hours on end, but he's just so excited for the road trip

Will fall sound asleep in a matter of minutes if you set him up with a travel pillow and it's freaking adorable!!

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

No music whatsoever it's distracting. Why would he want it?

Okay driver, brilliant paper-map navigator

Will sit and do absolutely nothing but stare out the window the entire trip if he's neither

Breaks too hard and accelerates too fast, though

Is also kind of heavy-handed with the gear stick he may or may not have snapped one off before...

Never give him a SAT-NAV, though, because he will follow the directions with 100% accuracy and end up driving through a wall or some shit don't try and deny it

Does he ever even blink when he's looking at the road? We may never know

Might be astral projecting, who knows

Forgets people need toilet breaks but refuses to make unscheduled stops

"Just hold it in"

Uh-huh, sure. That's how that works, Toshi

No snacks

Or rather, no fun snacks. Protein bars and mineral water all the way, babyyyy 🙃🙃🙃

Could probably drive all through the night without taking any breaks but that's irresponsible

Don't do it, kids

Will likely devour the entire KFC menu at the service station he's big, okay? He eats a lot

Is prone to leg cramp after long drives oh look, he needs a massage 😏

Doesn't get car sick. Ever. Upset stomachs are for the weak

Has garbage and recycling pouches on the backs of the front seats use them correctly, or feel his wrath

Isn't exactly a barrel of laughs, but it's somehow endearing just like always *happy sigh*

But it's actually a good thing

There's no hidden side to Ushi or any bad or annoying habits that come out of the woodwork on a long road trip

He's just the same old reliable, adorably straightforward Ushijima ❤

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Calls shotgun and demands the aux cord every. Single. Time but it's pretty decent music, so no-one really complains

Not that he's any good at navigation pray for Iwa-chan

Is constantly taking selfies, making TikToks, and documenting the trip on his social media

#ROADTRIP #SQUAD GOALS #BETTER THAN YOU

Will send all the photos in the group chat when it's over, and they actually come out pretty well

Will not stop complaining if the air conditioning is busted and Iwa-chan will threaten to dump him in the middle of nowhere if he doesn't can it 😂

Iwa-chan: I shoulda left you on that street corner where you were standing

Oikawa: But'cha dIDN'T

Bonus points if you get that reference, lmao

Has to keep taking breaks because his butt hurts when he sits down for too long because it's fLaT

I'm sorry, Tooru 😭😭 Forgive me. I love you, really

Is constantly on his phone

But he points out pretty views and interesting sights to everyone all the time awww

Low-key needs to pee all the time, but gets defensive if someone brings it up please stop bulling him, travelling is hard

"Are we there yet?"

Seems kind of annoying, but is actually just genuinely excited to go on a road trip and spend time with his friends 😭😭

Buys matching souvenirs for everyone in secret to surprise them with 🥺

When people complain about all the photos, souvenirs, and enthusiasm, etc. and ask why he has to keep doing it, Oikawa says:

"I want to remember as much of this as possible. I want us all to remember as much of this as much as possible," with a sweet little smile 😭😭😭

And that's when everyone realises how mean they've been to him about being over-the-top and irritating, and they all feel terrible

Just like in the freaking anime, man

☆ Terushima Yuuji ☆

Will hijack the aux cord to play his incredibly niche music taste

Feet up on the dashboard when he rides shotgun

Shoes on is bad enough, but shoes off just stinks up the entire car you have to roll all the windows down, lmfao

Will break all sorts of road laws if you let him behind the wheel please don't

Daichi will come and arrest him 😭😭

Lives on energy drinks

That's all the drinks he packs. Nothing else

Travels in sports wear and sliders yes, even though you reallly shouldn't drive in sandals

Like he knows or cares 😭

Will chat to girls at the gas station and ask for their numbers, even though he's never going to see them again

"You never know, man! It could be, like, fate or something"

Yes, Yuuji, you do. And it's 'or something'

Thinks it's a good time to sext his current booty call because, like, he has hours of free time. What else is he going to do?

Probably forgot to pack actual food

Has to live off of snacks and cheap service station food for the duration of the trip

But not his own snacks, of course. Everyone else's one doesn't keep friends and buy one's own snacks

Genuinely doesn't realise if he's being gross or annoying, so let him down lightly like a bro and he'll probably make an effort to stop

Doesn't plan the route or anything, even if he's driving. Just punches it into Google Maps as he sits his ass down on the day and trusts it to get him there in one piece and on time

Entire Johzenji team: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

For some reason knows how to change a flat tire, though, so he's good for something, I guess 😂😂

Probably saw a YouTube video on it. Maybe a WikiHow article

Somehow still manages to be an endearing part of the trip??

He smiles a lot and makes a lot of jokes, particularly when things go wrong, so it keeps everyone's spirits up

It definitely wouldn't be the same without him

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

#imo chan imagines #haikyuuweek2020 #haikyuu!! #hq! #headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #sawamura daichi #tetsurou kuroo #oikawa tooru #ushijima wakatoshi #terushima yuuji #sawamura daichi headcanons #testurou kuroo headcanons #oikawa tooru headcanons #ushijima wakatoshi headcanons #terushima yuuji headcanons #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutarou headcanons

[wistfulcynic]

all the perfect things (that i doubt)

SUMMARY: Zelena is defeated and Emma returns to her quiet life in New York with Henry, leaving Killian brokenhearted and her feelings for him unresolved. Three years later they meet again and quite a lot has changed—but will these changes push them further apart or help them find their way back to each other?

Canon divergence with no time-travel adventure.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ohmightydevviepuu! You are brilliant and amazing and a fantastic writer and a kind friend, and so to honour the anniversary of your birth I have attempted to fill this VERY LONG one-shot with all the things you like best. There’s angst and second-chance romance and people needing to sort their shit out before finding their way back to each other and angst and emotions and erotica and did I mention angst? There’s also Tinkerhook and Captain Cobra (implied, but very much there) and oh yeah it’s a 3B divergence. AND the title comes from a song! I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young, which is just about the most Killian thing to ever Jones. I hope that it leaves your boxes thoroughly ticked. 

Much gratefulness to @thisonesatellite​ and @katie-dub​ for invaluable suggestions and encouragement ❤️❤️❤️

Rated: M Words: 20k Tags: canon divergence, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending, minor mentions of suicidal thoughts

On AO3 

-

all the perfect things (that i doubt)

Emma parked her bug in front of the red brick row house and got out, hiking her tight skirt inelegantly as she did and teetering a bit on her towering heels as she climbed the steps to the small porch. She went inside and shut the door behind her, then leaned back against it with a small sigh. It was weird being back in Boston after three years in New York—four, really, if you counted the year she and Henry had spent there without their memories—and she hadn’t quite adjusted yet. New York was pretty much home now, or at least that’s what she regularly told herself, and Boston was… well…

Boston didn’t feel like home but it did feel familiar, the uncomfortable familiarity of something—or someone—that knew her far better than she wanted them to. Emma didn’t like places that knew her too well any more than she liked people who did. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen to sublet a place in Brookline—that and the generous relocation allowance her bail-bonds firm was paying—and even though she had to drive into the city every day to help set up the firm’s new Boston branch, coming home every night to a place that wasn’t technically Boston offered at least a small respite. 

She hung her keys on a hook by the door and kicked off her heels, flexing her toes in relief. It was only a six month placement, she reminded herself. Six months to get the new office up and running, then she could go back to New York and be comfortably anonymous again. 

“Mom, is that you?” Henry’s voice called and Emma grinned, following the sound into the living room. 

“Were you expecting someone else?” she teased, collapsing onto the sofa next to her son and putting her feet up on the coffee table. “How was the first day at the new school?” 

Henry closed the book he’d been reading and turned to her, his face lit up with excitement. “Fine, fine, the school’s good and kids seem cool, but Mom! You’ll never guess.” He bounced in his seat, almost vibrating with eagerness. Even at fifteen Henry hadn’t lost the enthusiastic nature she’d found so hard to resist in the ten-year-old who’d first come to find her in this city. Despite his occasional bouts of teenage sullenness. 

“Guess what?” she asked, smiling at him. 

“Guess who my astronomy teacher is.” 

“You’re taking astronomy?” 

“I need a science and it’s better than chemistry.” 

“Well, that’s true.” 

“It’s also not important,” said Henry, impatiently refocusing the conversation back to his question. “Guess who my teacher is! You never will!” 

“Um, Carl Sagan?”

“Mom, he’s dead!” 

“Oh.” Dammit, thought Emma. She’d been pleased with herself for managing to come up with the name. “Um, who’s the other guy? Neil something Tyson?” 

“Neil deGrasse Tyson, and no, come on, you’re not even trying.” 

Emma sighed. “Henry, I genuinely have no idea. Why don’t you just tell me?” 

“It’s Hook!” 

“Hoo—what?” Emma stared at him as her heart stumbled then began to pound. He couldn’t possibly mean Hook Hook, could he?

“Captain Hook!” Henry confirmed, and Emma’s heart took off at a gallop. “He calls himself Killian Jones of course and he doesn’t wear the hook anymore but it’s still definitely him! I couldn’t believe it!” 

“But I thought…” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Isn’t he living in Storybrooke?” 

“That’s what I said! I mean, I’ve never seen him there but I just kind of assumed. But he said no, he’s lived in Boston almost three years!” 

“You—you talked to him?” Breathe, Emma.

“Well, yeah.” Henry shrugged. “It would have been rude not to. He didn’t exactly seem thrilled to see me, but he was nice. He said not to expect any special treatment in class though if I remembered what he taught me about using the sextant that one time it would be helpful. I mostly remember, so…” 

Henry chattered on and Emma tried her best to listen but her mind couldn’t focus. She felt breathless and chaotic, buzzing with confusion and with a strange eager excitement. Hook is here, was all she could think. Here. Here in Boston. Where she was. Here. Close by. Possibly very close. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape her chest, and she pressed the heel of her hand against it.

He was Henry’s teacher. Hook was a teacher. She tried to imagine that and found to her surprise that it wasn’t actually all that difficult. Obviously he wouldn’t wear his pirate coat in the classroom like in the image her frazzled brain insisted on conjuring, but he’d always been so good with Henry, she could easily imagine him teaching other kids.  

And he’s here, her brain kept reminding her. Here. Where you are. You can see him. You can see him. You can see him…

“…and he’s actually a really good teacher, he explains things so well.” Henry was still talking. “He says he teaches math too, I’m actually thinking I might try doing pre-calc with him, you know I wasn’t going to take that until we got back to New York, but I think he might be able to help me, and…”

“That’s great, kid.” Emma felt bad interrupting him when he was so excited but she couldn’t handle any more talking about Hook or thinking about Hook teaching Henry or about him talking to Henry or really just any thinking about Hook at all. “What do you want for dinner?” 

Henry’s eyes lit with a different sort of enthusiasm and Emma hid a grin. How to distract a teenage boy 101: Offer him food, she thought.

“Pizza from Dino’s,” said Henry decisively. “But since that’s not possible, how about something Boston-y that we can’t get in New York?” 

“Like what?” 

“How should I know, I’ve only been here once. You’re the one who used to live here.” 

“Um, baked beans? Clam chowder? Lobster roll?” 

“Pah,” he scoffed. “I can get lobster rolls in Maine.” 

“Well, how about clam chowder then?”

Henry looked dubious. “Okay,” he said. “I’m willing to try new stuff while we’re here. But if it’s gross, it goes on the list forever. Deal?” 

Emma laughed. “Deal.” 

…

Later that night when Emma finally gave up after hours of tossing and turning in her bed, kicked off the covers and went to her laptop, she knew what she was going to do. She didn’t exactly like it, but she knew it, and as she opened the website for Henry’s school she didn’t hesitate. She clicked on ‘Staff Directory’ and scrolled through the list of teachers’ names and then she caught her breath. 

It wasn’t that she hadn’t believed Henry, just that in the first flush of shock at hearing his name again she hadn’t really been able to process the reality of Hook being here, in Boston, in a normal place with a normal job and presumably a normal life. Not until she actually saw his name, right there on the screen, with her own eyes. 

Killian Jones. Mathematics and Astronomy. Latin Club. Debate Team.

With slightly trembling fingers she clicked on it, releasing the breath she’d been holding and gasping in another immediately after as her heart stumbled once more and began to pound against her ribs. The picture was in black and white and tiny, just a thumbnail, but it was unmistakably him. Still with the scruff though his hair looked neater, no eyeliner of course but he’d kept the earring—a small stud barely visible in the tiny photo. And somehow, somehow he still had that look in his eye… the one that promised excitement and adventure and fun… Emma squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head to clear it. When she opened them again the look was still there. His students must love him, she thought. What kid wouldn’t want a pirate as their teacher?

She closed the school’s website and opened the professional one she used to dig up information on her skips. Using it to investigate anyone else was unethical enough that she could be fired for doing it but she was prepared to take the risk. He was teaching her son, she told herself. She had information about him that the school district did not. She had to make sure he wasn’t still doing… pirate-y stuff. Yeah, that was it. That was the reason.  

Ten minutes later she had his home address and cell number, his personal email and links to his social media accounts. Or rather, his account. Singular. He didn’t have Facebook or Twitter, which wasn’t particularly surprising she supposed, but he did have Instagram. She clicked on the link and a small smile curved her lips as her screen filled with images of the Massachusetts coastline.

He liked to take pictures of the sea. This was also unsurprising. But although various boats and ships featured prominently in many of his photos none of them were the Jolly Roger, and that did surprise her. What had he done with his ship, she wondered. Probably left it in Storybrooke; it wasn’t like he could sail a pirate ship around Boston harbour. Though he had sailed it to New York… She frowned. Hook loved that ship, it had been his home for literal centuries. Emma couldn’t imagine him just leaving the Jolly and moving someplace else. 

It was just… weird, the whole freaking thing. Hook’s presence here, his job, the quiet life he seemed to be living, his absent ship. It was a mystery, and mysteries had never sat well with Emma. Before she could talk herself out of it she copied his home address and pasted it into Google Maps, and when the results appeared on the screen she gave a wry snort. He lived a few blocks away from her sublet. Because of course he did. 

Good, she thought. It was good that he lived so close. That way, when she went to his house to confront him tomorrow she’d be able to walk there and pick up some dinner on the way home. 

…

Hook, as it turned out, lived in a very nice house on a very nice street in a very nice neighbourhood. A very nice neighbourhood, Emma thought, looking around as she strolled down the sidewalk trying to look casual and not as out of place as she definitely felt. Quiet and well-kept, with tall trees and flowers and carefully tended lawns. Not at all the kind of place you’d expect would appeal to a fairy tale pirate. 

His house was made of red brick in a sharp and tidy style, with white-framed windows and black shutters and a white portico with actual freaking columns at the top of the red brick steps. It was completely bizarre to think of him living there but also made an odd kind of sense. The house’s unfussy symmetry and clean colours gave it a nautical sort of air, and aside from a few shrubs on either side of the porch the lawn was neatly kept but bare. He’d always kept things neat, she remembered. 

 Emma’s heart was galloping again, her hand trembling as she rang the bell. She could hear it echo through the house and panic gripped her chest, and she wondered wildly if it was too late to turn around and run away. Then the door swung open and her mind went blank. 

His eyes were exactly as she remembered them, as blue as the ocean he so loved and just as deep, their expression shuttered now but still compelling. Still beautiful. They stared at each other for a breathless moment as she scrambled to think of something, anything to say to him, then he stepped back and held the door open. 

“Come in, Swan,” he said, and her heart beat even faster at the sound of her name in his voice, “I’ve been expecting you.” 

“You—you have?” 

“Aye.” He smiled wryly. “Ever since Henry appeared in my class yesterday. I knew your curiosity wouldn’t allow you to stay away for long.” 

He ushered her into a living room that was as tidy as his cabin on the Jolly Roger had been, with broad-planked hardwood floors and one wall lined with bookshelves. A large, comfortable-looking sofa sat at the centre of the room and Killian gestured to it. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, beer?” 

“Beer.” Emma latched on to the idea of alcohol like a lifeline. “I think I could use one.” 

“Aye,” he replied. “As could I.” 

He disappeared through a door in the corner of the room as Emma sank weakly onto the sofa and tried to calm her frantic heartbeat. A minute or two later Hook returned with two brown bottles, handed one to her then sat on the opposite side of the sofa and took a long drink from the other. Emma drank as well, surreptitiously studying him from the corner of her eye as she did. 

He was wearing jeans. Well-worn, soft looking ones. And a t-shirt in a similar condition with ‘Boston College’ across the front in faded letters. 

“Boston College,” she blurted, desperate to fill the stretching silence. 

“Pardon?” 

“Your shirt. Boston College.” 

“Oh, aye.” He looked down and shrugged. “Where I studied.” 

“But—you didn’t,” said Emma, feeling thoroughly off-kilter. “You couldn’t have. Did you?” 

“Obviously I didn’t,” he replied. “But I have both memories and official documentation that says otherwise. Courtesy of Tink.” 

“Tink?” Emma frowned, both at his words and the nasty tendril of jealousy that curled in her gut. 

“Indeed. She gave me what I needed to start a new life in this realm. Much as Regina once did for you.” 

“But—Regina did that for me as part of a curse. How did Tink… for you..?” 

He shrugged again. “Damned if I know. I try not to ask too many questions where magic is concerned. We… rekindled our old companionship after you left. She knew I wanted to leave Storybrooke and once her magic was fully restored she offered to help me do that. The results are as you see. She gave me what she said was the same realm-specific knowledge Regina gave the Storybrooke residents she cursed, along with an identity and accompanying memories so I could get a job outside of Storybrooke.” 

“But—” Emma’s head was spinning, the jealous tendril writhing like a snake. “Why did you want a job outside of Storybrooke?” 

“There’s nothing for me in that town,” he replied, in echo of the last time they’d sat like this, drinking together. “Why would I stay?” 

“Well… I mean…” 

He drank again, deeply, and she tried not to watch his throat work as he did. “I saw an opportunity for a fresh start in a new place,” he said. “One that thinks Captain Hook is an object of ridicule with a perm and a waxed moustache.” He smirked wryly though anger flared in his eyes. 

“You saw that, did you?” 

“And read the book.” He drank again. “And as much as I may like to wring the neck of this J.M. Barrie, he did in a roundabout way afford me the chance to slip unnoticed into this realm and become someone new. And so I did.” 

“I’ll say you did. A high school teacher?” 

“And why not?” he challenged. “You’ve said yourself I’m good with children. And I enjoy it. It’s honest work, and rewarding.” 

Emma shook her head, struggling to get to grips with everything he was saying and everything she was seeing in him. He looked so familiar; even with the drastic wardrobe change his face and his hair and his voice were all just as she remembered. But he was different. A kind of different that couldn’t be explained away by the knowledge Tink had given him or his new life. His face and eyes were so expressionless, his body language cool and distant. She couldn’t detect event the smallest hint of the flirtatious pirate who used to invade her space whenever he could, always challenging her, always understanding her, always watching her with that unnervingly intense focus—like he wanted to uncover every inch of her. That man seemed so thoroughly absent from the one now sitting opposite her that for a moment Emma wondered if she had imagined him.

“Well, you seem to be good at it,” she said brightly. “Henry can’t say enough good things about your class. He’s thinking of taking another one with you, actually. Pre-calculus.” 

“Aye. I’ve already approved his request. He’ll start tomorrow.” 

“So are you as good a math teacher as you are an astronomy one?” She made her voice light, teasing, edging into flirtatious, hoping to draw out the pirate—even just a brief glimpse of him, just for a moment. Hook’s face remained impassive.  

“I do my job to the best of my ability in every class I teach,” he replied, then drained the last of his beer and set the empty bottle on the sea chest in front of the sofa. Emma sipped hers, feeling cold and confused and with a sharp ache of loss in her chest.  

Hook leaned back against the arm of the sofa and gave her a hard look. “So is your curiosity appeased, then, Swan?” he asked. “Do I pass muster? May I be allowed to continue with my job and my life?” 

She frowned, hurt by the harsh sarcasm in his tone. “I didn’t come here to—to investigate you,” she said, forgetting that this was the exact excuse she’d given herself for her visit. “I just wanted to see you.” I’ve missed you, she did not say. I thought maybe you’d missed me too. 

“And now you have,” he replied. “Is that all?” 

“I—I guess so.” Emma put her own beer on the table though the bottle was still mostly full. “I guess I’ll be going.” 

“I’ll see you out.” 

He could sound less eager about it, she thought, following him to the door. He opened it for her and she looked at him again, at this man so familiar and yet so strange, and realised that even though he was standing right in front of her she still missed him. She missed him. 

On impulse she leaned in close and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek. His scruff was surprisingly soft beneath her lips and she heard him catch his breath, felt him flinch as if to hug her in return then stop himself. She lingered as long as she dared before stepping back, and when she looked into his eyes again she caught her own breath. 

There was the heat she’d started to think she had imagined. Heat and longing and that edge of danger that even a black and white thumbnail photo couldn’t disguise. In that split second he looked like he wanted to devour her, his breath hot on her cheek as he leaned closer, his eyes blazing with everything she had missed about her pirate. 

Then he blinked and his eyes were shuttered again. He grabbed her arms roughly, pulling them from around his waist and shoving her away, towards the open door. “Well, thanks for stopping by, Swan,” he said, not looking at her. “So nice to see you again. Tell Henry I said hello and not to forget his astronomy homework. Goodbye.” He shut the door behind her and she heard the click of the lock turning.

She fought the urge to cry all the way home. 

…

Killian leaned back against his front door and slowly slid down it, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head drop into his shaking hand. Tremors racked his body and his chest was so tight he struggled to draw in gasping breaths. 

Three years. Three years since she’d left Storybrooke, left him, returned to the life she’d had when she couldn’t remember him and never looked back. Three years since she’d shattered his heart. 

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he thought bitterly, she walks into mine. He should have taken that job in Montana instead. Emma would surely never show up there. 

Of course, he hadn’t thought she’d show up here either, not in this city she’d already lived in and left. Emma wasn’t the sort of person to go back to places—or people—she’d put behind her. He’d thought he was safe here. 

It seemed he’d thought a lot of things that weren’t actually true. That he could withstand seeing her again, for one. That he was prepared. He’d coached himself, steeled himself, buried his feelings deep and locked them away. And all it took was one brief press of her body against his, one gentle brush of her lips across his cheek to break right through his carefully constructed defences and reduce them to dust. 

Tears prickled behind his eyes and he blinked them angrily away. He would not weep over Emma Swan, he told himself firmly, not again. Not today. Instead he would pull himself together again just as he had in Storybrooke, as he did every time thoughts of her overwhelmed him, and he  would get on with his life. Now that she’d seen him surely her curiosity would be assuaged and she wouldn’t return. He could find his peace again. 

…

The next morning Killian walked to work, a thing he did as often as possible. It wasn’t that he disliked driving, quite the contrary in fact. Cars, in keeping with many of the mechanical innovations of this realm, fascinated him, and aside from his house his car was the one possession in which he had truly indulged. 

In the staid upper-middle-class neighbourhood where he lived his sleek gunmetal-grey Aston Martin was almost acceptable, not outrageous enough to give his neighbours anything to actually complain about but more than sufficient to irk them in a way they couldn’t quite articulate when he zipped along their tree-lined streets with the top down. Had they known that the money he’d used to buy it was ill-gotten pirate treasure magically converted into the currency of their realm, they would have been even more displeased. The thought of that delighted Killian nearly as much as the car herself. 

And his car did delight him; the powerful hum of her engine and the way she responded to the smallest twitch of her wheel was the closest thing he’d yet found in this world to standing at the helm of the Jolly Roger in full sail. He’d purposely chosen a convertible for the feel of the wind through his hair, and as often as possible he took her out of the city, driving far too fast along quiet country roads and almost hoping the local police would catch him doing it. 

Once a pirate always a pirate, at least in some small ways. 

But still he preferred to walk to work. Idling in traffic was an insult to his car and a waste of her skills and anyway the walk was not a long one—hardly more than a good stretch of the legs, as Liam would have said. It took him barely twenty minutes along the shortest route and less than half an hour even if he stopped for coffee first.  

That morning, he stopped for coffee. He’d not slept well, too plagued by thoughts of Emma and then by dreams of her to manage any real rest. His eyes felt gritty and his head ached, and though the walk in the brisk morning air cleared some of the cobwebs from his brain it hadn’t made much of a dent in anything else. 

He ordered his usual black coffee and a not-so-usual blueberry muffin. The intense sweetness of breakfast foods in this realm he didn’t generally care for but this morning he needed a boost of something and sugar seemed as good a thing as any, despite the inevitable mid-morning crash it would bring. There were always donuts in the staff room, perhaps later he’d finally give one of those a try. Anything to get him through this day. 

He took his coffee and the bag with the muffin from the barista with the best approximation of a smile that he could manage and wished her a good day. She blushed. 

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and Killian shook his head as he turned to go. When had it come to pass that he, the erstwhile Captain Hook, was referred to as ‘sir’ by sweet and blushing young women? Probably right about the time he’d stopped calling himself Captain Hook. 

Still, the blush and her shy smile brightened his mood and he was just thinking that perhaps this day might not end as dreadfully as it had begun when he walked through the cafe’s outer door and straight into Emma. 

Coffee sloshed from his cup and onto his hand and he barely managed not to drop it or his muffin as he caught her around the waist with his prosthetic before she could fall, hissing in a breath at the feel of her pressed against him for the second time in less than twenty-four hours. She gave a small cry and grabbed his shoulders for balance, her eyes wide and startled. 

“Hook!” she gasped. 

“Killian,” he snarled, using the arm around her waist to steer her out of the path of the other people trying to get into the cafe. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t use that name anymore, particularly not in public,” he hissed, low for her ears only. 

“What, you think someone’s going to recognise you?” She smirked. “You don’t have enough hair for that.” 

“This isn’t a joke, Swan,” he said harshly. “I’ve left that man and his name behind me, and I don’t particularly care to be reminded of them.” Her fingers flexed on his shoulders and with a start he realised that they were still standing close together, his arm tight around her waist. He released her and stepped back so abruptly she stumbled, and cleared his throat before he spoke again. “What are you doing here, anyway?” he asked, though he had a terrible suspicion he already knew the answer. 

“Getting coffee,” she replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This place was recommended in all the neighbourhood guides.” 

Neighbourhood bloody guides. “So you live nearby, then,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“Yep. About three blocks that way.” She gestured vaguely behind her. “I’m working in Boston, though. Setting up a new office of my bail bonds firm. What about you?” 

“You know where I live.” 

“Yeah, but I mean are you headed to work already? Isn’t it a bit early?” 

“The school day begins at 7.30, Swan, as I would expect you to know, being the parent of one of my students,” he said shortly. “And I am now officially running late. If you’ll excuse me.” He turned to go. 

“Killian.” Emma caught his arm and he flinched, both from the feel of her hand on him and the way she said his name. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“Can we—look, can’t we just—” 

“Spit it out, love.” He risked a glance at her, his fingers tightening on the muffin bag as their eyes met. 

“Can’t we be friends?” she burst out. “Please?”

 He stared at her for an incredulous moment and then the fury he’d been so carefully holding back exploded in his chest. He rounded on her, backing her up against the fence of the cafe’s outdoor seating area, keeping his voice low so as not to draw attention, spitting the words in her ear. 

“No, Swan, we cannot be friends,” he hissed. “We have never been friends.” 

It was far too tame a word, he thought, too tame a concept to ever encompass the complex tangle of emotions that Emma inspired in him. They had always been both more than friends and a good deal less, and as far as Killian was concerned she’d thrown away the more when she turned her back on him three years ago. The less was all that remained. 

They were standing much too close again, close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her eyes and hear the rasp in her breath and he was so tempted, so bloody tempted to give in. To agree to be her friend and anything else she wanted, to accept whatever scraps of affection and attention she was willing to spare him and be grateful for them. But he’d accepted those terms before and they had all but broken him. 

With a massive effort he reined in his anger and stepped back, drawing a deep breath to calm himself. “As it appears that we are neighbours of a sort, I don’t doubt we’ll see each other around,” he said. “When that happens I will nod politely to you and exchange pleasantries about the weather and Henry’s progress in school and perhaps the latest performances of Boston’s various sports teams. Beyond that I can’t imagine that we would have anything to discuss.” 

He spun on his heel and stalked away, leaving her leaning against the fence, trembling and once more on the verge of tears. She stared at the door of the cafe for a long moment before turning away, no longer hungry but with an aching emptiness inside her that she had no idea how to fill. 

…

As he had predicted, Emma ran into Killian everywhere she went, or at least that’s how it felt. After their third encounter at the cafe—each at a different time—she’d started arriving early and lurking in her car until she saw him leave before venturing in herself. Even with that precaution she still spotted him at the grocery store and at the bank, and at the only pizza place in town Henry deemed acceptable as a temporary stand-in for Dino’s. He was everywhere she turned, nodding civilly at her each time they met and making a bland remark, his face and eyes so expressionless it made her want to claw at something. Preferably at him. 

Finally after two awkward weeks Emma found a welcome distraction, a temporary one but at least it was something to take her mind off Killian for one night: a skip that was a perfect target for a honey trap of the kind she hadn’t pulled in far too long. Anticipation buzzed in her veins as she approached the restaurant where they were set to meet, a swankier one than she usually preferred for these sorts of things but the skip was a banker who was clearly out to impress. 

Emma was out to impress too, in a dark red strapless dress that hugged every curve and heels that made her legs look endless. Her hair was perfectly curled and her makeup on point, and she flashed a smile at the doorman as she strode in, feeling slightly reckless and more confident than she had in some time, and completely failing to notice the woman standing just inside the doors until she’d bumped into her. 

“Oh, sorry!” she said, catching the woman’s arm as she stumbled. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” 

“No problem,” replied the woman with an apologetic laugh. “I probably shouldn’t be standing in the doorway, but my boyfriend’s running late which is really not like him, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with myself while I wait.” 

She was a very pretty woman in a wholesome sort of way, with golden brown hair and dark blue eyes, and a warm smile that Emma couldn’t help responding to. 

“Well I hope he turns up soon,” she said, smiling back. 

“I’m sure he will,” replied the woman. “Have a great night!” 

“You too.” 

The skip was waiting for her at the bar, with a martini for himself and a glass of white wine for her. Emma ground her teeth behind a brilliant smile. Men who ordered for women without consulting them were the worst kind of assholes. She was going to enjoy nailing this fucker’s balls to the wall. 

“White wine!” she exclaimed, settling gracefully onto the barstool next to him and crossing her legs, making sure a generous portion of thigh was on display. “How’d you know?”

“I know what the ladies like,” he replied with a smirk he probably thought was charming. 

“You sure do.” Emma picked up the wine glass and took a sip, not missing the way his eyes lingered on her mouth as she did. She set the glass down and ran her fingertip along its rim, looking up at the skip through lowered eyelashes. “So tell me about yourself,” she cooed. 

“Well, I work for the biggest bank in the city…” he began, and Emma widened her eyes in feigned interest. From the corner of one of them she caught sight of the woman from earlier approaching a small table not far from the bar, accompanied by a dark-haired man who had his hand at the small of her back and was leaning down to whisper in her ear. Emma smiled to herself, glad that the woman’s boyfriend had finally showed, and then she got a good look at him. 

Killian. 

Emma’s heart stumbled and she froze, her eyes fixed on the couple as they arrived at their table. The woman was holding a pink rose, sniffing it with a soft smile as Killian pulled out her chair for her and kissed her cheek as she settled into it. He spoke a few words to the hovering waiter who nodded eagerly and scurried away, then sat down next to the woman and took her hand, lacing their fingers together and murmuring something that had her blushing and sniffing the rose again. 

My boyfriend’s running late… my boyfriend… boyfriend… the woman’s words rang in Emma’s ears as she watched them. They looked comfortable together but still with an undercurrent of excitement, like the relationship was new but not too new. Killian must have been dating this woman for at least a few months. Long enough for her to know that it wasn’t like him to be late, and not to feel insecure when he was. Long enough for her to casually call him her boyfriend. 

The waiter reappeared with a bottle of wine and a small vase for the rose. The woman laughed when he set it down in front of her and the look she gave Killian made Emma’s heart ache. The waiter poured their wine and they clinked their glasses together, then settled into what appeared to be easy and pleasant conversation. 

Killian looked… not precisely happy, Emma thought. But he looked content. Relaxed and at ease in a way she’d never seen him be before. He smiled often as the woman spoke and there was no flirtation in it, no smirk or leer or defensiveness. Just simple smiles from a man enjoying the company of his date. 

“Hey,” said the skip, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “You’re not even listening to me.” 

“Sorry.” Emma dragged her eyes away from Killian and tried to focus on her mark. She needed to stay sharp to spot the moment when she could jump in and cuff him with the least amount of fuss. It would be better if she could get him outside first; he looked like a runner and although she’d taken the precaution of clamping his car she didn’t really want to cause a commotion in a restaurant this nice. He started in again boasting about his job and she did her best to appear attentive but she couldn’t keep her eyes from darting back to Killian. That woman had seemed so nice, sweet and friendly and she didn’t even know who he was, thought Emma with a burst of anger. She didn’t know anything about him, not about his past and the terrible things he’d done… or about the losses he’d suffered… the way he could read her like an open book… how he used to look at her… the way he kissed…

Oh she knows exactly how he kisses, whispered a nasty little voice in the back of her head. And a lot more.   

Emma snarled at that thought, clenching her fist on her wine glass so hard that the stem snapped and its jagged point sank deep into her palm. 

“Ow!” she cried, loudly enough that several people at the neighbouring tables turned to stare. She didn’t look at Killian—she couldn’t—but she could sense his eyes on her and for a crazy moment she wished she still had magic and could disappear in a puff of smoke. 

“What the hell,” said the skip, glaring at her. “What is wrong with you?” 

“Nothing! I just—it just broke.” 

“You’re bleeding everywhere.” His lip curled in disgust but he made no move to help her. 

“Sorry,” she said. “I—I’m sorry.” 

“Fuck this,” said the skip, tossing back the rest of his drink and standing up. “You’re really hot but no lay is worth this much effort.” He tossed some money on the bar and walked away. 

“No—wait!” Emma tried to follow but as soon as she stood up a jolt of pain shot through her hand and made her woozy. Her wound was bleeding profusely now, dripping into the spill of white wine on the bar and turning it pink. The bartender was frantically trying to mop up the mess with one hand and waving a handful of cocktail napkins at Emma with the other. 

“Ma’am…”  he said faintly, “please don’t bleed on the upholstery…” Emma took the napkins and tried again to pursue the skip. She squeezed the paper against her palm in an attempt to stop the bleeding but her wound twinged agonisingly under the pressure and she stumbled, crying out again, and then a warm hand gripped her elbow. 

“Swan,” said Killian’s voice in her ear. “Let him go.” 

“No—he’s a skip—he’ll get away—” 

“You can’t chase him down with a bleeding puncture wound on your hand,” said Killian impatiently. “Let him go. You’ll get him another day.” 

Emma looked up at him, her head spinning from the combined effects of pain and blood loss, and his touch on her skin. He eased her back onto the barstool and she didn’t protest, sitting quietly as he took the napkins and dipped them into a glass of water he must have brought from his own table. Cradling her hand in his prosthetic one he gently dabbed the blood from her wound, easing out a tiny shard of glass that had been lodged within it. 

“You should get this seen to properly,” he said, his voice deep and gruff. “But I suppose you won’t.” 

“I hate doctors.” 

“Very understandable, but it might get infected. At least wash it well when you get home.” 

“In rum?” she challenged, hoping to rile him. He didn’t look up. 

“No need,” he said. “A good antibacterial soap should do the trick.” 

He finished rinsing the wound and set the used cocktail napkins aside, pulling a large cloth one from his pocket. She caught her breath as he wrapped it several times around her hand and secured the ends in a tight knot. His new prosthetic moved, she noted vaguely. Much more useful than a hook. No need to use his teeth. 

“There,” he said, stepping back. “That should do it.” 

Emma’s chest was aching, her mind whirling with how familiar and yet how strange this felt. Never, in all the times she’d thought of him over the past three years, not once had she imagined a situation in which Killian Jones didn’t flirt with her. Didn’t challenge her. Didn’t even fucking look at her. Flirty Hook she could handle, and cocky Hook. Even hot as fuck Hook breathless and wrecked after their kiss in Neverland she could handle. But this calm and controlled man who bandaged her hand without once looking at her face, this man she absolutely could not. She had no idea even what to say to him.

“I guess you think I should thank you,” she snapped. Her pain and confusion were too raw, too much for her to process right now. Anger was easier. It was hot and clean and she had more than enough to spare. 

Anger flashed across Killian’s face as well and she felt a perverse thrill at the sight of it. Good, she thought, he should be angry. She wanted to make him furious. 

“Don’t trouble yourself,” he snarled. “I have no need of any gratitude from you.”  

She hissed in a breath sharp with hurt and they glared at each other, the air thickening with the tension between them, brittle and volatile and unbearable.  

“Killian,” said a small, quiet voice, and they both turned to see the woman standing awkwardly a few feet away, twisting her hands together. “I’ve paid the bill,” she said. “I—I’m going to go.” 

The anger drained from Killian’s face, replaced by regret and guilt and a deep sorrow that made Emma feel ashamed. “Aye,” he said. “I’ll accompany you.” 

For a moment Emma thought the woman would refuse, but then she gave a small nod. Killian offered her his arm and she slid hers through it, and they left the restaurant together, not looking back. 

Emma shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if a million eyes were watching her. She swept the room with a defiant glare and as soon as Killian and the woman disappeared through the doors she headed towards them herself. With any luck she’d still be able to catch the skip before he could get the clamp off his car. She hoped so. She hoped he ran when she confronted him. She hoped he fought back and gave her an excuse to punch him in his stupid smug fucking face.

…

Killian dropped Anabel at her door with a kiss on the cheek and an apologetic smile, hating himself for the hurt confusion in her eyes. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, squeezing her hand. She gripped his fingers hard. 

“Who is she?” she whispered. 

Guilt stabbed at him, followed by suffocating regret. He genuinely and deeply cared for Anabel, and he’d tried so bloody hard to be happy with her. He was almost happy, as close as he could remember being for the best part of three centuries, and so naturally he’d gone and buggered it the first chance he got. One glimpse of Emma pale and bleeding had wiped Anabel and his hard-won contentment and every other bloody thing clean out of his mind, and he had acted without a thought for anyone but her. 

“Someone from my past,” he replied. “I haven’t seen her in years. I thought I’d put her behind me but—” 

“You still love her,” said Anabel flatly. It wasn’t a question. 

Killian sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this here, or now, or ever, but he owed Anabel the truth. 

“I don’t know how to stop.” 

She nodded, blinking hard as tears filled her eyes. He pulled her into his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder, soothing her as they fell. “I’m so sorry, Bela,” he said softly. “I care so much for you and I truly thought that we could—” 

She pulled out of his embrace and shook her head. “Don’t,” she said. “Don’t make any decisions now. Sleep on it. Talk to her, figure out whatever needs figuring. I’ll wait.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to—” 

“I’ll wait, Killian.” She leaned up and kissed him softly on the lips. “You’re worth it.” 

…

You’re worth it. Those words followed Killian home, chased him through his door and straight to his stash of rum. He’d mostly given up drinking it, needing to be sharp for his classes and limiting himself to a beer or two when he wanted to relax, but there were times that simply called for the hard stuff. 

He poured himself a generous glassful and tried not to let the words ring in his ears. You’re worth it. It was worrying, how hard such things still were for him to hear. No one had thought him worth much of anything for so long that he’d come to believe it himself. To internalise it, in the terminology of this realm.

He knew of course that he had some good qualities. He was intelligent and quick to learn, resourceful and decisive and courageous. A man couldn’t survive centuries in command of a pirate crew without at least a few of those attributes. But they counted for little when his shortcomings were constantly cast up at him by the one person he most wished to impress. Well you are a pirate… I’ve got magic, he’s got one hand… let me guess, with you?

Emma had certainly never thought he was worth much. Not worth staying in Storybrooke for. Not worth taking a chance on. Not worth loving. 

While he, fool that he was, could never stop loving her. 

He was deep into his fourth glass when his doorbell rang, and he knew without even looking who it was. Ignore it, whispered his sensible voice in his ear, but Killian was too drunk and too angry for the sensible option. 

The moment the door swung open Emma charged in, shoving him back and slamming it behind her. She rounded on him, fisting her uninjured hand in his shirt collar and pulling him against her. 

“I lost my skip because of you,” she hissed. 

In her heels and his stocking feet they stood eye-to-eye, pressed together from chest to knee, and every nerve in Killian’s body screamed in pleasure at the contact. He grabbed her hand and yanked it off him, pushing her away so forcefully she nearly fell. “You lost your skip because you broke your glass,” he snapped. “It was nothing to do with me.” 

“You distracted me. While I was working.” 

He glared at her. “What are you on about? I was having dinner, or about to—”

“You were flaunting that woman—” 

“Flaunting?”

“With the rose and the pulling out her chair and—” 

“That is simply how I treat the women I date, Swan,” he said, stepping closer to her again, backing her against the wall.  

Emma’s cheeks flared bright pink but she didn’t back down. “What, even when I’m not watching?” she sneered. 

“I wasn’t aware you were watching tonight!”  

“Oh, like you didn’t notice me as soon as you walked in.” 

Her breath was coming in short pants, the tips of her breasts brushing against his chest with each inhale, and his lust clawed inside him like a living thing desperate to get out. Killian leaned in until their lips were almost touching, torturing himself with her little gasp and the way her eyes darkened. “No, actually,” he growled. “I didn’t.” 

He pushed away from the wall and smirked at her. “I know this is difficult for you to grasp, love, but not everything in my life revolves around you,” he said harshly. “Until two weeks ago I thought I’d never see you again.” 

“Oh, so you just happened to be out on a date at the same place I was?” 

“That place being my girlfriend’s favourite restaurant, where we’ve dined many times before, you mean?” 

Emma’s lip curled. “Your girlfriend—”

“Aye. Of nearly a year.” 

“—you expect me to believe that Captain Hook has a girlfriend?” 

“No, Killian Jones has a girlfriend,” he hissed, stepping closer again. “What, Swan, did you imagine I would pine away in celibacy forever because you wouldn’t have me?” 

“Of course not! That was never—we were never—” 

Abruptly all his anger, his frustration, his lust, the electric thrill of sparring with her again drained away, leaving him numb but for the gnawing ache in his heart. “Indeed,” he said, and turned away. “We were never.” 

“That’s not what I meant, Killian.” 

“Isn’t it?” 

He stalked into the kitchen and retrieved his glass of rum, tossing it back and refilling it with a hand that was not quite steady. Before he could pick it up again Emma appeared at his elbow, whisking the glass away and taking a long drink. 

“Help yourself, love,” he snarked. She handed the glass back to him and he drained it, setting it down on the table. She refilled it without a word and took another drink. He sighed. 

“Why are you here, Swan?” he asked. “What do you want from me?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Fury licked at him again. “You don’t know,” he hissed. “Is that so? Well perhaps I can enlighten you.” He took the glass from her and emptied it, then slammed it down. “You wanted to make sure that I was still your faithful pet,” he spat. “That I would still come running the moment you crooked a finger, desperate for any scrap of your attention—”  

“That’s not true—”

“—despite your utter rejection back in Storybrooke and your complete lack of interest in me or my life in all the time we’ve been apart.” 

“I asked about you, or I tried—” 

“You tried.” 

“Yes! Every time I talk to my parents I ask—well, not ask but I try to—I thought you were still in Storybrooke!” 

“And so you thought you’d just use your parents to check up on me? And it never struck you as odd that they didn’t know anything?” 

“I just—I couldn’t—” 

“You couldn’t ask them directly because then they would know you were curious,” he concluded. “And we couldn’t have that, could we darling?” 

She grabbed the rum glass and refilled it. He watched as she tossed it back, wishing he could ignore his body’s reaction to her—that constant itch to touch, to trace the curves outlined by her clinging dress and sink into the softness of her hair. He still remembered how it felt beneath his fingers in Neverland, the taste of his rum on her tongue… he wanted to taste it on her again, to lick the traces of it from her lips and then deep into her mouth, wanted to rip that dress from her body and plunder her. The dark heat that flared in her eyes as she caught him staring, as she let the rim of the glass trail across her lower lip, said she knew exactly what he was thinking and she wouldn’t stop him. That she wanted everything he did. 

Slowly she set the glass down and stepped closer, close enough that he could smell her hair and feel her breath against his cheek. His cock was rock hard and he cursed it, cursed his helplessness to resist the pull she exerted on him. His hand curled around her waist without his permission, and when a small, satisfied smile curved her lips it slid down to grip her arse and pull her tight against him. 

She stiffened and for the briefest moment he thought she might pull away, and then she moaned and rolled her hips and he was lost. His arm wrapped around her waist as hers curled around his neck, he plunged his hand into her hair and she tugged at his, bringing their lips together in a clash of heat and lust and fury. She tasted just as he remembered and this time he chased it, battling her for control of the kiss. If they were going to fuck like this, he thought, in anger and animosity and not lovingly, reverently as he had so often dreamed… if they were going to fuck, they were going to do it his way.  

He slid his hands beneath her dress and hooked the index finger of his prosthetic beneath the thin strap of her thong, snapping it easily. She gasped against his mouth and he chuckled darkly, trailing into a groan as his fingers found the slick heat between her legs. She was so soft and so bloody wet—wet for him—that his head spun and his knees went weak, and he forgot his anger and their fight and sought only to pleasure her, pushing two fingers inside her and stroking her clit with his thumb, thrilling to the sound of her low moan and the sharp pain of her fingernails digging into his arms. 

He tugged her head back and trailed his mouth down her neck as his fingers worked inside her, dragging the neckline of her dress down with his teeth until her breast was freed then swirling his tongue around her nipple. 

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped. “Hook.” 

He jerked away like she’d doused him in ice water, his anger flooding back. 

“No,” he hissed. “Killian.” 

Emma’s eyes flashed defiance, “Hook,” she insisted, scraping her fingernails down his chest, popping buttons as she went. He knocked her hands away with his prosthetic and backed her up against the kitchen counter, his fingers still inside her, squeezing his hand to grind the heel of it hard against her clit, wrenching a helpless moan from her.   

“You want Hook?” he snarled. “Do you?”

“Yes!” 

“Well, you can’t have him. It’s me or nobody and I swear by all the gods in the heavens, Swan, if you call me by that name again I will kick you out of my house as you bloody are.” 

She glared at him, chest heaving, and he could see how badly she wanted to defy him. He prayed he’d have the strength to carry out his threat if she did. Their harsh breaths sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness of the kitchen until Emma bucked her hips against his hand and conceded. 

“Killian, then,” she said, grudging but breathless, like the name was an intimacy that she resented but also craved. He pressed her clit harder and she moaned again. “Killian,” she breathed, and it sent a spear of pure lust through him. 

He pulled his hand from between her legs and stepped back, holding her gaze as he put his fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. “My bedroom is upstairs,” he said. “First door on the left.” 

Her eyes flashed again and then she straightened up, reached behind her back and in one quick movement unzipped her dress and shimmied free of it, smirking when he hissed in a breath at the sight of her naked body. She stepped out of the pile of fabric, still in her heels, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“I’ll be waiting,” she said, and sauntered from the room. 

Killian ground his fist into the countertop and forced himself to count to sixty before following her. 

When he arrived she was sitting on his bed, leaning back on both hands with her legs crossed, one shoe dangling from the tip of her toe. He stopped in the doorway and feasted his eyes on the sight of her toned limbs and smooth skin as he slowly undressed, not missing the catch in her breath when he undid his trousers. 

“Curious, love?” he taunted. 

“Very.” 

He pushed the garments down, trousers and underpants together, smirking as her eyes widened and she drew a deep breath. 

“Well,” she purred, “you did promise I’d feel it.” 

He ignored the stab of anger, bit back the retort that it was Hook who’d told her that, and put a swagger in his hips as he closed the short distance between them. She sat up eagerly and reached for him but he caught her hand and held it back. 

“I want your mouth,” he said. “No hands.” 

She shot him a venomous glare but complied, laying her hands flat on the bed as she took his cock in her mouth, swirled her tongue around the tip then sucked hard. He clenched his teeth against an aching moan, wove his fingers through her hair and tried not to perish from the sheer pleasure of living out one of his favourite fantasies. 

She took him deep in her mouth, alternating hard suction with lazy strokes of her tongue and quick scrapes of her teeth until he couldn’t take any more and pushed her away, shoving her back onto the bed where she lay panting and looking very pleased with herself. 

“Too much?” she taunted. 

“For now.” He leaned over her, running his hands up the insides of her thighs and spreading them wide, then slipped his arms beneath them and buried his face in her cunt. She gave a strangled cry as he licked through her folds then sucked on her clit, pressing the tip of his tongue hard against it. Her hips bucked as she tried to push them up against his face but he held her down, licking her far more gently than he knew she wanted and forcing her to accept it. 

“Damn you, Killian,” she snarled, clutching at his head. He laughed and she gasped at the feel of the vibrations on her swollen flesh, then moaned when he resumed his onslaught, as hard as she liked this time, licking and sucking her roughly until she lay teetering just on the edge. 

“No…” she whimpered when he pulled away, blindly reaching for him as he leaned across her to yank open a drawer on his bedside table and withdraw a condom. He handled it with practiced ease, holding it securely in his prosthetic and tearing the packet open with his hand. 

Emotions flitted across her face as she watched him, anger laced this time with a touch of hurt. The hurt cut deep into his heart and made him furious. She really did think she’d had him on such a leash that he wouldn’t sleep with anyone else after she rejected him, he thought, giving her a nasty leer as he rolled the condom down his length. Her nostrils flared but she didn’t look away, and when he finished she grabbed his shoulders and shoved him onto his back, straddling him, kissing him roughly and digging her fingernails into his skin as she positioned his cock at her entrance and took him inside her.  

They groaned together at the sensation, the tight, slick squeeze of it. He thrust up as she ground down, groaning as she tilted her hips and arched her back to take him deeper, dragging her sharp nails down his chest. 

“Ugh that’s so good,” she moaned, and as they found their rhythm and began to move in perfect tandem Killian could only agree. Emma's head was thrown back, her hair curling wildly over her breasts and down her back, her muscles squeezing him as they rocked together in the most glorious dance of his life, and had he not already been as deeply in love as a man could be Killian knew that he would have fallen then. His hurt and anger ebbed away and he lost himself in sensation, in the indescribable bliss of sinking into the woman he loved and feeling her clenched tight around him, the sound of her sighs and moans in his ear. It was a feeling he never thought he’d know again after Milah, and certainly never dreamed he might know it with Emma. 

You don’t, he tried to remind himself. This is only sex. She doesn’t love you. She never will.   

He didn’t care about that though; in this moment with this woman he couldn’t care. He could only feel, and make the most of this one chance to feel these things with her. 

Emma’s breaths grew faster, harsh and short and catching in her throat, and as her rhythm began to falter he could tell that she was close. Gripping her arse tightly he flipped them over until she was spread out beneath him. She hummed in approval and hiked her leg up over his hip as he thrust in deep, driving her hard into the mattress over and again until she gasped and cried out, her eyes squeezed shut and back arching as a pink flush spread across her skin. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen and it sent him flying over the edge, choking out his own cry as ecstasy gripped him harder than ever before. He collapsed onto his side and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, conscious of little more than the smell of her skin and the gentle caress of her fingers through his hair. 

They lay like that until their breathing calmed and their skin cooled, and gradually reality began to encroach. Killian forced himself against every will he had to move, untangling himself from her and rolling over to remove the condom and dispose of it in the bin next to his bed then grabbing a handful of tissues to clean them both up. 

He dreaded what he would see when he turned back again but Emma still lay where he’d left her, her face calm and showing no signs of panic or regret. She took the tissues he offered without comment and cleaned herself, grimacing a little when she handed them back. He dropped them in the bin along with his own and took a deep breath, waiting for the excuses he knew had to be coming, for the sound of her getting up and running away, leaving him yet again. When the bed shifted but none of those things came he risked another look at her. 

She was snuggling back against the pillows, and as he watched she pulled back the blankets and slid beneath them. He held his breath and did the same, swallowing hard when she slid over to him and curled herself against his chest. 

“Emma—” he began. 

“No,” she said firmly. “No.” 

She cuddled closer, slipping a leg between his and an arm around his waist. He tangled his fingers in her hair, stroking a silky strand between his thumb and forefinger as she hummed in contentment and closed her eyes. A moment later so did he.  

He didn’t know how long he lay there, his eyes half-closed and his nose in her hair. He was adrift in the moment, this extraordinary, unbelievable moment of softness between them when Emma not only allowed him to hold her but actually snuggled into him, fitting her body to his like it belonged there, like there was nowhere else she wished to be. Killian suspected she would regret it in the morning and when she woke she would push him farther away than ever. But now, here, in this moment, she was his. 

Her skin was so soft, he marvelled, so silky beneath his fingertips that he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, gently stroking down her body, the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip, down her thigh and up again, over her arse and along the ridge of her spine to sink once more into her hair. 

Slowly he became aware that she was touching him as well, her hand trailing over his thigh and hip, up his back and down his shoulder, pausing briefly to explore the tattoo there then slipping further on to sift her fingers through the hair on his chest. He caught his breath as she discovered the scatter of tiny stars tattooed across his heart, almost lost among the dark strands, and traced the pattern they described with unnerving accuracy. 

She looked up at him with eyes hazy with desire, blinking slowly as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing the dimple in her chin. He kissed the dimple, thrilling to the little hum of enjoyment she gave. He kissed her nose and her forehead and both her cheeks, and then, finally, her lips. 

The kiss was slow and soft and and achingly tender. Killian poured his whole self into it and everything he felt for her, fully aware of what he was confessing but unable to care. Emma knew his feelings whether she wished to accept them or not, and he had nothing to lose. 

She opened her mouth with a soft moan and took the kiss deeper, pulled him closer, her tongue on his sending heat licking up his spine, her hands stroking it across his skin. He wanted to touch her everywhere, worship her as he had in his dreams, distil a lifetime of devotion through the prism of this one act. But there wasn’t time for all he wished to do and so he made do with what he craved the most. The soft weight of her breast in his palm and the hard peak of its nipple, how she moaned into his mouth as he stroked it with his thumb.  His fingers caressing her, slowly down her belly then between her legs, sinking deep into her velvety heat. Her tongue soft and wet as she licked down his neck, nipping at him, leaving marks that would linger on his skin for days and break his heart anew each time he saw them. 

Emma shifted beneath him, aligning their bodies and lifting her knees to cradle him, holding him close and kissing him hard as he slid inside her. The wet warmth of her mouth and her cunt made him dizzy; the squeeze of her legs around his waist and the clutch of her hands on his shoulders and back urged him on. He tried to go slowly, to make this last as long as possible, but the sounds of her pleasure, the way she clung to him, the sheer elation of sharing this with her—however illusory it may be—was too great to withstand, and far too soon they fell. 

She gasped and he groaned as ecstasy gripped them both, her fingers curling through his hair and pressing his forehead to hers, their eyes locked as she fluttered around him and that gorgeous flush suffused her skin once again. Caught in the delicate tenderness of the moment, wrapped in intimacy and awash in sensation, Killian struggled to contain the words he longed to say to her. He tried his best to hold on to what he knew was true—that this was just an interlude, a moment soon to end—but against all good sense, his better judgement, and even his will, he felt that tiny, stubborn bud of hope bloom yet again in his heart. Perhaps, it whispered to him as he rolled onto his side and Emma followed, curling herself tightly around him and sighing contentedly against his chest as they drifted off to sleep. Perhaps.

…

A prickly sensation in her arm woke Emma. She resisted it, groaning internally and trying to will herself back to sleep. It was far too early to be awake, she could tell that much even through her drowsy haze. It was early and she was so comfortable but for the prickly arm, warm and contented and relaxed, with Killian’s chest beneath her cheek and his arms tight around her. 

Killian— With a jolt Emma came fully awake, staring up at his sleeping face with eyes gone wide in dismay. What the hell had she done? 

Slept with Killian Jones was what she’d done—God, she couldn’t even call him Hook in her head anymore. She’d charged into his house and drunk his rum and had sex with him—twice!—and it had been just everything she had ever fantasised about and more. So much more. Far, far too much more. 

She forced herself to pull away, away from the warmth of his arms and of him. The fact that she had to force herself had panic gripping her chest. She wanted to stay, she realised with a flash of the same terror that had sent her running from him in Storybrooke and the same regret she’d felt on realising, not even a week after her return to New York, that leaving him had been a terrible mistake. For three years she’d tried to bury her regret over that one rash decision, buried it and ignored it and denied it, without success, and now here, finally, she had the chance to make things right. All she had to do was slip back into his arms, curl up where she wanted so badly to be and go back to sleep. 

But she couldn’t—it was too much, too fast, and she wasn’t ready. His feelings were too big for her to deal with and hers… hers she couldn’t even bear to think about. She scrambled away, trying not to jostle him, but his eyes blinked open anyway and she froze just on the edge of the bed, caught by the look in them. He had such expressive eyes, true windows to his soul as the saying went, laying bare his every thought and feeling, and it had always amazed Emma that he never seemed to mind how vulnerable they made him. He’d hidden nothing from her, not since Neverland and not until these past few weeks when the cold, shuttered blankness in those beautiful eyes had cut her more deeply than she’d realised. They weren’t blank now, though, but brimming with emotion—with hurt and anger and a weary, hopeless resignation that clawed at her heart.

“I...” she began, trailing off when she realised she had no idea what to say, how to explain. How to make him understand. 

Killian sighed and leaned over the edge of the bed. She heard a drawer opening and then a soft t-shirt landed in her lap. “You can wear that downstairs,” he said. “Your dress is on the kitchen floor.” 

“Killian—” 

Emma groped for the words to tell him that she didn’t want this to be the end, that she wasn’t trying to run from him again. She just needed some time and a bit of space to process all the things that had happened and how she felt about them. But his face was blank again and his eyes so terrifyingly hard that the words wouldn’t come. 

“Don’t,” he snapped. “Don’t fucking bother. Just go.” 

She swallowed over the aching lump in her chest. “I never meant for this to happen,” she whispered. 

He snorted. “Let’s not kid ourselves, love,” he said, and she flinched at the bitter edge in his voice. “You’ve wanted to know how I fuck since the beanstalk. Now that you’ve finally got it out of your system perhaps we can both move on.” 

“Move on,” she choked. “You’ve done that already.” 

“I’ve certainly tried,” he said. “Anabel makes me happy. She actually likes me for myself and while you may not think I deserve that I choose to believe I do. I’ve worked bloody hard to put my past behind me and build a respectable life in this realm.” 

A life that doesn’t include you, his words implied, and she nodded, fighting the tears that prickled behind her eyes. She slipped the t-shirt over her head and scrambled from the bed, grabbing her shoes as she fled, desperate to get away from him before he could see her cry. 

…

Killian managed to hold off his own tears until he heard his front door close behind her and then they came in a torrent. All the anguish he’d kept so tightly locked away these last three years—the heartbreak and the guilt, the regret over the life he’d led and the choices that had shaped him into someone a woman like Emma could never love—came rushing forth like the sea through the hull of a sinking ship. He turned his face into the pillow that still carried her scent and wept for all he had lost in the course of his long life, for every terrible deed he’d done and every beautiful thing his touch had destroyed. He wept until he had nothing left inside him, until he sank into a restless, dreamless sleep. 

 When he awoke again the sun was pouring in through his windows with offensive brightness and he groaned, rubbing his eyes and wishing that just once the habits born of centuries on the sea would leave him alone to wallow in his bed. Instead he dragged himself up and stumbled into the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face and ignored his hollow-eyed reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, then went downstairs. 

In the kitchen he found his t-shirt, folded almost neatly and draped across the back of a chair. With shaking hands he picked it up and pressed it against his cheek—just for a moment—then with a guttural cry flung it away against the wall. 

…

Emma spent the next week driving herself as hard as she could, working the toughest cases, the longest hours, hounding the staff at the new office with her demands. Anything, anything, to avoid having to think. If she stopped moving even for a second she saw Killian’s face in her mind’s eye and heard his voice telling her to go, and the ache of loss would hit her again, as fresh and raw as the moment it happened. 

Losing something she’d never really had shouldn’t hurt so much, she thought, and frankly she resented it. She felt swamped by a strange sort of untethered frustration, an uncomfortable feeling and uncomfortably familiar. She’d last felt it back in Storybrooke, that antsy itch under her skin whenever Killian was near, in the few quiet moments they’d shared in between battling flying monkeys and breaking curses. She’d managed to ignore it then, seizing on the witch and the curses and Neal as convenient distractions, excuses not to think about Killian or her feelings or what he wanted from her. What she wanted from him, what they could have. And as soon as those distractions were gone she had run. Just as she always did. As she would continue to do, damn it, until she found something that made her want to stay. 

She refused to think about how badly she’d wanted to stay in Killian’s bed. 

...

“Mom,” said Henry the following Saturday, coming into the living room to find her dusting the corners of the bookshelves, “can I ask you something?”

“Hmmm?” Emma dragged her attention away from her determined assault on the cracks in the wood. “Sure. What’s up?”

Henry shifted uncomfortably. “Um, have you—have you seen Hook at all since we moved here?” 

“Killian,” said Emma automatically.

“What?” 

She felt her face grow hot. “He prefers to be called Killian now.”

“So you did see him!” cried Henry. 

Emma set her dusting rag down with a sigh. “Yeah. I did.” 

“Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“Kind of, I guess. It’s hard to explain.” She cast a sideways glance at her son. “Grown-up stuff.”

“Mom,” sighed Henry, with his special ‘I’m a teenager now’ eyeroll. “I’m not a kid anymore and I’m not stupid. I know that you and Killian—that there was something going on with you guys in Storybrooke and I know that’s part of the reason you left.”

“Henry—”

“And I saw how you reacted when I told you he was here. It’s okay to talk to me about it.”

Emma made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. 

“I mean, no details,” he said with a grimace. “But like, in general.”

“Henry.” Emma rubbed her temples. “I appreciate it, really. But I can’t. I can’t even think about it.” 

“You really should. It’s not a good idea to hold stuff like that inside.” 

“Stuff like what?” 

“You know. Feelings. You hold yours in too much.” 

“I know. I know I do.” She frowned at him. “How did you know there was… something with us in Storybrooke?”

“It was pretty obvious, Mom. He came all the way from the Enchanted Forest to New York to get you, and then when we got back to Storybrooke you two were always talking together or at Granny’s, and when you weren’t with him you asked him to babysit me. Which you wouldn’t do unless you trusted him.”

“That’s true,” Emma whispered. She had trusted Killian. She did. 

“And then after we moved back to New York you never asked about him,” Henry continued. “When you talked to Grandma and Grandpa you asked them about everybody in Storybrooke, even my mom. Even Leroy. But you never asked about him. If he’d only been a friend you would have.” 

Emma shook her head. “Kid, when did you get so smart?” 

“Duh, I always have been. Thanks for noticing.” They were silent for several minutes before Henry spoke again. “And you know,” he said, “I wouldn’t mind. If you wanted to, you know. Date him.” 

“Really? Would you really want me to be with a pirate?” 

Henry shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to think of him that way anymore. But I always liked him, mostly. He took me sailing and told me about my dad. And he’s probably the best teacher I’ve ever had. And he’s been looking really sad all week.” 

“He has?” 

“Yeah. Everyone’s noticed. He’s all quiet in class, not like he usually is. And he hasn’t been having lunch with Miss Hartfield.” 

Emma’s heart gave a painful thump. “Miss Hartfield?” 

“The physics teacher,” Henry clarified. “They always used to have lunch together. All the girls in my class thought they were dating and now they’re all crying cuz they think they’ve broken up.” 

“Is Miss Hartfield a very pretty brunette with dark blue eyes?” 

“Yeah.” Henry looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“I—met her. Last weekend. She was having dinner with—with Killian. I guess they really are dating. The girls in your class should be happy.” 

“Oh.” Henry’s eyes filled with sympathy. “I’m really sorry, Mom—” 

“It’s okay.” Emma swallowed hard and forced a smile when he gave her a skeptical look. “Really! I’m okay.” 

“You’re not—” 

“I am.” Emma wrapped her arm around Henry’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. “Or I will be. I just—need a little time. Is your homework done, by the way? Speaking of your teachers.” 

“Oh, yeah, nice segue.” Henry rolled his eyes, playing along, though it was clear from his face that he didn’t believe her. “It’s nearly done.” 

“Well, get it all done and then what do you say we order pizza and watch some bad movies. Unless you’ve got other plans?” 

“Nope. I’m all yours.” 

…

By the next Thursday, Emma had almost convinced herself that she was fine. Killian still crept into her thoughts far more than she’d like but the ache he brought she convinced herself was less severe. She didn’t have to fight so hard to stop the tears from welling up or keep herself constantly distracted.  

It’s like he said, she told herself fiercely. It was just an itch that needed scratching, and now it’s scratched that’s it. No hard feelings. No feelings at all. 

Thursday afternoon as Emma was leaving work, Henry texted her that his friend Becca was having some problems and wanted to talk and he was going to her house for a little bit. His homework was nearly done, he said, and he promised to finish it when he got home.  

Said homework was spread out over the dining table when Emma returned and she went to gather it up and put it to one side so she could sit there herself and have some dinner. Her heart skipped when she saw it was astronomy he’d been working on, the book still open to a page illustrated with several constellations. One of them caught her eye. It looked like a slightly tilted cross with bent arms, and it tickled something in her memory. 

She frowned and bent down to get a closer look. That pattern of stars looked so familiar. Emma racked her brains trying to remember where she could have seen it before. It couldn’t have been that long ago, she thought, and—oh. Oh. She flushed as the memory resolved with uncomfortable clarity, and her heart began to pound. 

She recognised that pattern because she had traced it herself through the hair on Killian’s chest, connecting the sprinkle of stars tattooed over his heart. She remembered thinking how odd it was, him having a tattoo there where it was practically invisible. His other tattoos were elaborate and brightly coloured and on places where he had less hair, but those tiny stars she would never have noticed if she hadn’t had her face pressed right up against them. 

It did make sense, she reasoned, for an astronomy teacher to have a constellation tattoo, though all his others featured names and clear associations with people from his past. But this one—Emma peered more closely at Henry’s book looking for the constellation’s name, and when she found it sank slowly into the chair, her knees gone too weak to support her. 

It was the constellation Cygnus. The swan. Killian had a swan tattoo. Right above his heart. 

He was in love with her. 

Emma let her head fall into her hands as the full force of that realisation hit her, with the strength and fury of a hurricane. She was aware he had feelings, strong ones, and though she’d never let herself think too much about them she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t known. But this… this was serious. He wouldn’t put her permanently on his body with Milah and with Liam unless it was big-L love. Killian loved her, or at least he had. Did he still? Could he still, after what had happened between them?

She closed her eyes and thought about the last words he’d spoken to her, about his girlfriend—Anabel—and how happy he was. Her breathing sped up an her hands trembled as she recalled it, the memory she’d tried hardest to escape and with the least success. The closed expression on Killian’s face and the flat tone of his voice were etched into her mind as clearly as if she were back there in his bedroom living that terrible moment all over again, and she realised with a flash of shock that he’d been lying. She’d been too upset to see it at the time but now her superpower was screaming at her. He’d lied to her, and not even well. 

A bubble of hope rose up in her heart. If Killian was lying about being happy, about having moved on, then maybe… maybe there was a chance that he still loved her. Maybe if she told him how much she missed him… if she reached out, if she tried… maybe they could actually talk. The way he’d acted the other times they’d met… his coolness, his distance, his anger… of course he was just trying to protect his heart from further hurt. She could certainly understand that. But if she told him, if they talked, then she could fix this. She could get the old Killian back again—the one who looked at her with warmth in his eyes and always believed in her. The one she could now admit to herself that she deeply and desperately missed, not the way you miss a friend you haven’t seen in a while but like a part of herself was gone. 

She sent Henry a quick text telling him where she was going and raced out the door. Ten minutes later she was standing in front of Killian’s, practically leaning on the bell. 

Killian opened his door and for the first time looked surprised to see her standing there on his small porch. 

“Swan!” he exclaimed. “Is Henry okay?” 

“Um.” Emma frowned. “Yeah, he’s fine. Why would you think he wasn’t?” 

“Why else would you be here?” 

“I wanted—” She took a deep breath. “Can we talk?” 

“Talk,” he repeated in an incredulous tone, then eyes moved from her face to something behind her and he smiled a huge, fake smile and waved his hand. Emma turned around to see a middle aged woman waving back as she walked down the sidewalk, a similar smile on her face and a very sharp look in her eye. The moment she looked away Killian grabbed Emma’s arm and pulled her through the door. 

“Come inside, Swan, before the whole neighbourhood sees you,” he hissed. 

“Since when do you care about the neighbourhood?” 

“Since I have to live in it.” He glanced around then shut the door tightly. Emma went into to the living room and perched on the edge of the sofa, trying not to fidget. Killian followed but remained standing in the doorway, watching her with a dark scowl.

“What do you want?” he asked. 

“I told you—to talk.” 

“I don’t believe we have anything left to say to each other.” When she didn’t reply he sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it you wish to discuss?”

“Your tattoo.” 

Emotion flashed in his eyes, apprehension and a hint of alarm. It flared just for an instant and then was gone, as thoroughly as if it had never been. Had she not been looking for it, Emma thought, had she not known how to read him as easily as he did her, she’d have missed it completely. “I have many tattoos,” he replied. 

“I’m talking about one in particular. The stars over your heart. It’s a constellation, isn’t it?” 

Killian’s face was like stone. “Aye.” 

“Which one?” 

“Swan—” 

“Exactly.” Emma pounced. “It’s Cygnus. The swan. You have a swan over your heart, Killian.” 

He shrugged. “What of it?” 

“What of it is I don’t think you get tattoos that have no meaning. You’ve got Milah on your arm, Liam on your shoulder, someone called Alice on your hip who I’m willing to bet is your mother, and over your heart is—is—” 

“Is you,” said Killian flatly. “Is that what you want to hear, Emma? The swan is obviously for you. Because I love you, and because I can’t resist torturing myself with permanent reminders of everyone I loved who is lost to me, etched into my bloody skin. Is that what you came here to get me to confess? It’s a poor confession when you already knew.” 

Guilt swamped her, heavy and suffocating. “I didn’t know,” she attempted to protest, her voice quiet but falling like lead in the face of his stark confession.  

Anger snapped in Killian’s eyes, fuelled by a pain she hadn’t seen before. Hadn’t allowed herself to see. “Don’t lie to me, love, and don’t lie to yourself,” he snarled. “Of course you knew. You knew when I all but begged you not to go back to New York, and you still left. You knew when you slept with me and you still tried to sneak away before I awoke. You’ve always known exactly how I felt and it has never once stopped you from breaking my heart.” 

“Killian—” 

“No. I can’t hear this.” He ran a hand over his face. “Go now, Swan, and don’t come back.” 

“Don’t come back?” she choked. 

“What would be the point? We both know where we stand and I—” his voice broke “—I can’t live with a gaping wound in my chest.” He turned to look at her, his face for once not blank but open and raw and with a plea in his eyes that tore at her heart. “Please, Emma. If you care anything at all for me, leave me alone now. Let me have the chance to heal.” 

Emma’s brain was screaming at her to say something, stop him, don’t let this happen, don’t let him go. FIX THIS. But everything he said was true, every angry, hurtful word of it. She had known his feelings and had she had taken them for granted, even used them against him, never thinking of how that might hurt him. She’d caused him so much pain already that she couldn’t now refuse this one small, heartbreaking thing he asked of her. 

It’s too late. You pushed him away one time too many and now he’s gone. 

“I talked to your girlfriend, you know,” she said, forcing the words past the clawing ache in her chest. “At the restaurant, before you got there. She seems really nice.” She risked a look at his face and almost cringed at the wariness in his expression. “I’m glad you’ve found someone like her, Killian. I really am. You do deserve it. You deserve to be happy.” She stood and moved towards the door, refusing to be hurt by the way he visibly tensed as she drew near. “I—I hope you’ll be happy.” With one last look to fix his face forever in her memory she turned and ran from his house. 

…

When she got home Henry was back, sitting at the table with his homework. He looked up to greet her, the cheerful words dying on his lips when he saw her face. He jumped to his feet and hurried over to wrap her in a huge hug. Emma gripped him tightly and let the tears she felt like she’d been holding in forever finally, finally fall. She cried as she could never remember crying before, great heaving sobs that left her empty and drained and clinging limply to Henry’s shoulders.

“What can I do?” he begged. “Mom, tell me what I can do.”  

Emma sobbed again, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve him. “Do you think it’d be okay if I came back to Storybrooke with you this weekend?” she asked. “I just really don’t want to be alone.” 

“Are you kidding?” Henry smiled, a bright smile that did nothing to disguise his worry. “Grandma and Grandpa would love that!” 

“They would. What about Regina?” 

“Honestly, I think she’d be glad to see you too. Everyone would. People have missed you.” 

“And you wouldn’t mind me tagging along?” 

Henry hugged her again. “I’d love it.” 

…

They drove up to Storybrooke as soon as Henry finished school the next day, arriving at her parents’ loft just in time for dinner. Snow and David were as thrilled as Henry had predicted, hugging her between them, smiling widely with damp eyes. Emma found her own eyes growing damp as she leaned into the comfort of their embrace, her heart tripping when David gently cupped the back of her head. 

“Dinner’s almost ready,” said Snow when they finally pulled apart, cradling Emma’s face between her hands. “Why don’t you and Henry go sit at the table?” 

“Is there anything I can—” 

“Nope,” said Snow firmly. “It’s all under control.” 

Emma seated herself at the table between David and Henry and looked around at the loft. “Wow, have you guys changed anything in this place since I was here last?” she asked. 

“Um, I think those curtains are new,” said David absently as he attempted to wrestle a protesting Neal into his high chair. Henry grabbed a toy and distracted his uncle with it long enough for David to get the toddler’s legs through the holes and settle him in. Emma’s heart tripped again. Henry was so comfortable here, far more comfortable with her father and brother than she was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. 

“We’re thinking of moving, actually,” said David, sitting down next to Emma. “There’s a farm just outside of town that’s for sale, we might buy it.” 

“You want to be a farmer?” said Emma blankly. 

“I grew up a shepherd,” he reminded her. “And this place won’t be big enough once Neal is older and wants his own room. Plus we haven’t entirely ruled out the idea of more kids. So I think it’s an opportunity we shouldn’t pass up. Your mother, on the other hand—” 

“I don’t object to it, exactly,” said Snow as she set a bowl of salad and a large platter of chicken on the table. “It would just mean a long commute if I’m going to keep working with Regina.” 

“You’re working with Regina?” 

“I’m the deputy mayor,” said Snow. 

“You are? Since when?” 

“Um, about two years now?” 

“Oh.” Emma fell silent as her parents launched into a debate on the merits of farm vs town in a way that made it clear that this was an old, comfortable discussion, frequently rehashed. Henry chimed in with a comment every now and then, egging them on, and Emma ate her chicken rather sullenly and tried not to feel left out. 

“So what’s it like being back in Boston after so long?” David asked her, when the conversation hit a lull. 

“It’s fine, I guess.” She shrugged. “A bit weird. I don’t normally like to go back to places I’ve left.”

An awkward silence fell and Emma felt herself flush. “I mean, I’m not saying I never would, but—” 

“How about you, Henry?” Snow jumped in. “How do you like Boston?” 

“It’s pretty cool. I like that there’s so much history. And my school’s really good.”

“Are you still having a hard time with math?” asked Snow, smiling fondly. “I remember that was always your downfall when you were in my class.” 

“No, actually, I’ve got a really great teacher at the new school.” Henry shot Emma a questioning look and she nodded. “It’s, um, actually it’s Hook.” 

“Hook?” David frowned. “What, like Hook Hook? He’s your teacher?” 

“Captain Hook?” said Snow. 

“How many Hooks do you know?” snapped Emma, irritated by their disbelief. 

“Well,��� said Snow, now looking surprised at Emma’s vehemence. “It’s just a bit strange, isn’t it? That Hook’s a teacher?” 

“I don’t think so,” said Emma. “He always taught Henry stuff when he used to watch him before.”

“And my dad too,” said Henry. “In Neverland.” 

“Really?” asked David, still frowning. 

“Yeah. He’s the one who taught my dad how to navigate and how to sail. Seriously, Grandpa, he’s really good at it,” said Henry decisively. “Everyone loves his classes.” 

David shook his head. “Not that I don’t believe you, Henry, it’s just hard to imagine. It’s hard to imagine Hook as anything but a pirate.” 

“It’s not that hard,” retorted Emma, stabbing at a piece of lettuce on her plate. 

 “Well, you know, after Pan’s curse when we all landed back in the Enchanted Forest he could hardly wait to get back to his pirate’s life,” David pointed out. “He barely stayed with us for an hour.” 

“Though to be fair, it was mostly his ship he wanted to get back to,” said Snow. “And it’s not like that was an option for him here.” 

“That’s true,” David conceded. “I guess it’s hard to be a pirate when you’ve got no ship. He could’ve stolen one, but I genuinely did have the feeling he wanted to turn over a new leaf.” 

“Wait, wait—what do you mean, no ship?” demanded Emma. “What happened to his ship?” 

Snow, David, and Henry all turned to her in surprise. “Don’t you know?” asked Snow.

“Know what?” 

Snow and David exchanged a glance. “Hook traded his ship,” said David. “For the magic bean he needed to get to New York to find you. Didn’t he tell you?”

“He traded his ship…” Emma’s head began to spin. “For me?” 

“Well, yes, in a way,” said Snow. “Did he really not tell you?” 

“No. He never said a word.” 

“Well I guess we only know because David basically dragged it out of him,” said Snow. 

“He was moping around the town so much after you left,” said David. “Drinking and getting disruptive. I threw him in the cells for a night and in the morning tried to gently suggest he might be happier if he took his ship out for a few days to clear his head, and he said that would be a bloody challenge when Blackbeard had his ship.” 

“Blackbeard!” Henry exclaimed. “I didn’t know that part. He hates Blackbeard. Said he’s the worst kind of pirate, a man with no code and no honour. Why would he trade his ship to Blackbeard?” 

“He didn’t say. I guess he just really wanted to get back here and find Emma.” 

No one was looking at her but Emma could feel the weight of their attention, and she groped desperately for something to say, some way to respond to this revelation. But as always when she was overwhelmed with emotion, no words came. She poked at her food, feeling frozen and numb and so terribly sorry, and desperate for a distraction. 

One came a minute later in the form of a knock on the door. Emma had never been more glad in her life to see Regina, come to pick up Henry with Robin Hood and a delighted Roland at her side. In the bustle and confusion that followed their arrival, Emma slipped away to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water, downing half of it in one gulp then pressing the cool glass to her temple as she tried to calm her turbulent thoughts.   

Regina hugged Henry and watched as he hugged Robin and Roland, smiling a smile that made Emma blink with a new shock of astonishment. It was unnervingly soft for the erstwhile Evil Queen, warm and happy. 

“What the hell happened to Regina?” she whispered to her mother when Snow came into the kitchen with their empty plates. 

“What do you mean?” Snow frowned. “She looks just the same to me.” 

“Yeah but remember I haven’t seen her in three years. She looks… well, she looks happy.” 

“She is happy,” said Snow. “She and Robin got married last year you know, and—” she broke off when she saw Emma’s face. “You didn’t know.” 

“Huh-uh.” 

“But didn’t Henry tell you? He gave her away.” 

“I—don’t really ask Henry about his visits here. And you never mentioned it.” 

“You don’t ever seem to want to talk about Storybrooke with me either,” Snow replied. “You ask how everyone is, but whenever I try to offer details you change the subject. Have you left this place behind so completely, Emma?” 

“I’ve tried to,” said Emma, in a burst of honesty. “I wanted to get away from all of it—magic and villains and being the Saviour. I never wanted any of that and I never really felt like I belonged here.” 

“You never really tried,” said Snow. “But there’s always a place for you in Storybrooke, sweetie, whenever you want to take it.” 

…

Killian parked his car in front of Granny’s and got out slowly, taking in the sight of the familiar streets and buildings with a resigned sigh. He hadn’t been back to Storybrooke since he’d moved to Brookline, hadn’t had any desire to return until seeing Emma again had stirred up all the old feelings he’d worked so hard to bury. This past week his new life had felt like it was suffocating him—the students who looked up to him, the colleagues who respected him, Anabel who loved him. All of them so obviously concerned by the shift in his mood, caring about him, and the weight of all the pretence he’d built around himself threatened to crush him. Not a single one of them truly knew him, what he was and the things he’d done, the life he’d led for so very many blood-soaked years, and Killian hadn’t been able to bear another second of their kindness.  

The Rabbit Hole was just as he remembered, loud and raucous and full of people playing their own game of pretend, fuelled by alcohol and shielded by the brittle jocundity of such places. He looked around for Tink but couldn’t see her, and though he strained his ears could hear nothing over the pounding music. He pushed through the crowd towards the bar where he finally caught sight of her, perched on her knees atop a barstool and waving him over. 

“Hey!” she cried, leaping down from the stool and throwing her arms around him. He froze in surprise for a minute then tentatively hugged her back. 

“Tink,” he said cautiously. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine.” She released him and stepped back, grinning as she took him in. “I guess I just missed you.” 

“That’s new,” he snorted. 

“Well you used to call me, if you remember, the first year or so after you left. Now I barely hear a word for months on end until suddenly you text to say you’ll be here in three hours and can I put you up for the night. So I have to ask, is everything okay with you?” 

Killian tried to summon his old cocky grin and some quip to reassure her, but they refused to come. Everything wasn’t okay, far, far from it, and he knew this was at the root of his spur of the moment decision to come back to Storybrooke. He needed to talk to someone who truly knew him, all of him, and who had known him at his worst. Tink was, as strange as it may be to think about, his best friend. 

“No,” he said, and watched her eyes widen at the stark honesty of his reply. “I’m not okay. At all.” 

Tink’s face softened and she looped her arm through his, and he let her lead him to an empty pair of stools at the very end of the bar. They sat and Tink ordered a bottle of rum and two glasses, then rested her hand just above his prosthetic and listened, keeping his glass filled as he told her everything. He told her of how hard he’d worked to make a place for himself in this land and build a new life to go with it, and how at times he felt that he’d succeeded in that aim but at others felt a complete fraud. He spoke about his job and how much he loved it and the joy of helping his students learn, but how he still felt unworthy of the trust placed in him by the school and by their parents. He told her about Anabel and how much he wished that he was whole enough to love her and then finally, haltingly, he spoke of Emma. About seeing her again and all that had occurred between them, and the way he’d spiralled afterwards into a depression so deep he wasn’t sure he could recover.

“I’m so tired of living sometimes,” he said. “You know what I mean.” It wasn’t a question but Tink nodded anyway, memories of long nights spent sharing rum and companionship in Neverland hanging thick between them. “Obviously time passes differently there, you have less of a—a sense of it passing, but—” 

“But it still passes,” she said. 

“Aye. It still passes, and I’ve passed so bloody much of it. And sometimes I think about how in terms of the physical age of my body I’m only about thirty-five. I could live another fifty or sixty years, easily, what with the medical marvels in this realm, and at times I just wonder—” he drew a deep breath “—I wonder if that’s really what I want.” 

“You want to die?” Tink asked carefully. 

“Not precisely.” Killian tossed back his rum and she poured him some more. “I’m just exhausted by the prospect of more living. Does that make any sense at all?” 

Tink nodded, sipping her own drink before speaking. “Years can be a burden,” she said. “Fairies are immortal so we don’t feel them the same way humans do, but we see how they affect you. Most humans your physical age would still have a lot left to look forward to but you’ve already lived the lifetimes of at least three men. It’s understandable that the prospect of living another might feel overwhelming.” 

“So what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

“Well, assuming you don’t actually want to end your life?” 

“I don’t,” he assured her. Though he couldn’t deny that the thought had crossed his mind in his more desperate moments, Killian had fought too hard for his survival to ever end himself by his own hand. 

“Then you have to find something to live for,” said Tink. “Or someone?” 

He shook his head. “Emma doesn’t want me.” 

“It doesn’t have to be Emma.” 

“It can’t be anyone else,” he muttered, glowering into the depths of his glass. “Not for me.” 

“You felt that way about Milah too.” 

“I thought I did, but this is different. Milah and I—we were in love but our relationship wasn’t healthy. I can see that now. We didn’t bring out the best in each other; in fact we probably brought out the worst. She wanted the cocksure pirate and so I leaned into that role, for her. We both leaned into it, and we enjoyed it, the plunder and the destruction and the casual cruelty. I think it made us both feel powerful.” He sipped his rum and shot a sideways glance at Tink, who was watching him attentively and still without judgement. 

“But Emma, though,” Killian continued, setting his glass down and flexing his fingers around it. “Emma makes me want to be better. Even when I thought I’d never see her again, even though I know we’ll never be together I still want to be the man she inspired me to become.” He squeezed the glass harder, almost hoping it would shatter in his hand. “But then, if I’m only being that man because of her is that truly who I am? And how can I try to build a life with someone like Anabel when I know I can’t love her as she deserves and I’m only even remotely like someone she might want because of my feelings for another woman?”

Tink wrapped her arms around one of his and squeezed it sympathetically, resting her head on his shoulder. “I wish I had an answer for you, Hook,” she said. “But who you truly are, or can be, is a question you have to work out for yourself.” She paused as they both drank. “Have you ever considered telling Anabel about your past?” 

He snorted. “Tell a sensible science teacher from the land without magic that I’m Captain Hook? Oh yes that would go over brilliantly.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” said Tink. “I meant telling her a modified version of what happened to you, with your parents and Liam and Milah. Letting her see a bit more of who you are and what shaped you.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Killian sighed and ran his hand over his face. “I’ve thought about it. I genuinely don’t know if it would help or just be a burden on her. For all she knows I’m just a normal man born in Bristol, England in 1981. How would I even begin to fit parental abandonment, a dead brother, and two tragic romances into that man’s life?”

“Two?” 

“She already knows about Emma.” 

“Right. Well, you’d have to get creative, but if it helped her know you better? At least you could try.” 

Killian drank again then tightened his arm to pull Tink closer, resting his cheek on her head as the the pleasant haze he craved began to settle over his mind. “Do you know why I fell in love with Emma?” he asked. Tink shook her head, her hair tickling his nose. “It wasn’t her courage or her kindness or her beauty, though those are all contributing factors. It was because she understood me. We understood each other, from the very beginning, in a way I’d never known before. It scares her but I—I crave it. And that’s what’s missing with Anabel and with every other woman I’ve known, even Milah. That connection of the whole self. It’s something that can’t be forced or—or brought into being. It is or it isn’t, and that’s that.” 

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure that I don’t have the energy to sort through all of this realm’s women in hopes of finding a pale reflection of it. I’ve found the love of my life, Tink. It took three centuries but I found her, and I offered her my heart, and she refused it. I don’t think the answer is to try to patch over that wound with another woman. I don’t know what the answer is. Perhaps there isn’t one.” 

He frowned as Tink tensed against him, her eyes going wide. “Perhaps the answer is Emma,” she said. “And you just haven’t asked the right questions yet.” 

He followed her gaze and felt his jaw clench. Tink clung to him for another brief moment, whispering in his ear. “She might still be your answer, Hook. Don’t lose hope just yet.” 

…

Once Henry left to spend the night with Regina and her parents went to put Neal to bed, Emma muttered something about taking a walk and fled the loft, desperate for some space and time alone to sort through her muddled thoughts. As painful and chaotic as they were she knew she had to think them, and feel the feelings that they brought. Already she’d lost so much by trying to run from her feelings. More even than she’d known. 

Killian had given up everything for her. That was the thought that kept echoing in her brain. He’d given up his ship, his home, his most prized possession. He’d given it to a man he hated, all so that he could get back to her, knowing she wouldn’t even remember him. All to bring her back to her family. Her home. 

And what had she done? She’d scorned him and pushed him away, denied her feelings and run away from them and from him the first chance she got. No wonder he was so hurt. No wonder that pain had turned to anger. He should be angry, she thought in disgust, he should hate her. Yet she knew that despite everything he didn’t. He may not want anything to do with her anymore but he didn’t hate her. She almost wished he did. It might actually make the weight of her guilt and regret easier to bear. 

For the first time in her adult life Emma actually, genuinely faced her feelings, and thought seriously about what they were and what they meant. She didn’t love Killian, not the way he loved her, but she could. All the elements were there, from the way they had always understood each other to how easily she’d trusted him to the electric sizzle of their sexual chemistry. It was that could that had scared her, sent her running three years ago. The vulnerability it represented, the loss of control, terrified her. It felt like standing at the edge of an abyss with her her toes hanging over the edge and a gale force wind at her back. She’d fallen into that abyss before with terrible consequences, but then Killian was not Neal. She knew, somehow, beyond any doubt, that if she let Killian Jones into her life he’d never leave her. 

If she had let him in. It was too late now. 

She began to cry again, not with the wrenching sobs she’d cried the day before but with heavy, drenching tears that flooded her cheeks and dripped off her chin faster than she could wipe them away. Her chest felt hollowed out, aching and empty and hopeless.

She caught sight of the neon sign for the Rabbit Hole and swerved abruptly to her right, cutting across the street without looking for cars. Fortunately there were none. This was Storybrooke, after all, even on a Saturday night. And she really, really wanted a drink. 

The Rabbit Hole was fairly busy, its noise and bustle comfortingly familiar. Emma kept her head down as she moved towards the bar, hoping no one would recognise her. It wasn’t until she was nearly there that she spotted Killian. 

He was sitting at the end of the bar with a half empty bottle of rum and Tinkerbelle beside him, her arms looped through his and her head on his shoulder. The obvious, comfortable intimacy between them sharpened the ache in Emma’s chest and reminded her of her suspicions about what their relationship had been in Neverland. She was certain it was more than either of them had let on. 

As she stood frozen and wondering what to do, Tink looked up, her eyes widening in recognition. Killian frowned and followed her gaze and when he saw Emma the look that flashed across his face nearly broke her heart. He shook Tink off and stood up, tossing back the rest of his glass of rum and heading for the door. 

Before she could think better of it, Emma spun on her heel and took off after him. She caught his arm just before he could reach the door and he spun around, yanking it from her grip. 

“Bloody hell, Swan, can I never be free of you!” he cried, and the hopeless defeat in his voice made her tears well again. She forced herself to remember that his feelings were justified, that she had done this to him and that he didn’t owe her forgiveness or anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice. “I didn’t know you’d be here and I don’t want to bother you, but Killian—” 

“What?” 

“My dad—he told me what you did. How you traded your ship for a magic bean to come find me in New York.” 

A faint flush coloured Killian’s cheeks and he shifted uncomfortably. “It was nothing,” he said. “Anyone would have—”

“No, anyone definitely would not have,” cried Emma fiercely. “You gave up everything you had to get me back here and then I just turned my back on it, and on you. And I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, Killian, and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just—I wanted you to know.” 

He swallowed hard and gave her a small, guarded smile. “You made what you thought was the best decision for yourself and Henry,” he said gruffly. “That’s all anyone can do. I’m just glad you’re happy.” 

“But I’m not,” she burst out. “I’m not. I mean, I’m not unhappy exactly but I miss—I miss you.” She heard his sharp intake of breath but barrelled on before she could lose her nerve. For once in her life she knew just the words she wanted to say and she was going to say them. 

“And you were right,” she continued. “I knew how you felt about me and I threw it back in your face and pushed you away whenever I could. I was scared of my own feelings, of how strong they were, and I know that’s no excuse but all my life I’ve always run from things like that. I run from things that make me feel too much and I still can’t believe that anyone could really care as much about me as you seemed to and so I ran before I could find out that you didn’t. I know I hurt you. It wasn’t always unintentional, and God, Killian, I am so fucking sorry for that too.” 

She swallowed hard, twisting her hands together, feeling the intensity of his gaze on her but not daring to meet it. “And I know that there’s no chance for—for us anymore but I wanted you to know how much I regret it. There’s nothing in my life I regret more than ruining things between us before they could even really start.” 

Gathering her courage she looked up at him, and caught her own breath at the expression on his face, that soft, intense expression she’d missed so much. “Do you want there to be a chance?” he said hoarsely. “If there was a chance, would you—could you take it?” 

Emma gasped again as hope exploded in her heart and it began to race. She nodded. “Yeah. I think I could. I would.” 

“You think?”

She stepped closer, looking up at him, hardly daring to breathe. Music pounded through the air around them, voices shouted, bodies danced, and they were the only two people in the world. 

“I could,” Emma whispered, “I can and I will if—if that’s what you want too?”

Killian drew a shaky breath and his fingers trembled as he reached up to caress her face, brushing softly across her cheek before sliding into her hair. He pressed his lips to hers in the gentlest kiss of any they had shared, a butterfly’s wing of a kiss, a kiss of promise and forgiveness and hope. Emma sighed into it as it slowly deepened, as Killian’s fingers tightened on the back of her head and hers gripped his jacket and she couldn’t suppress a moan. 

When they broke apart she was breathless and dizzy and he was beaming, a bright, dazed grin that made her heart soar as he leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you really mean it, Emma?” he whispered. “You really want—” 

“You,” she said. “Yeah. I want you, and I want us.” 

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I’m yours, love,” he said. “As you know.” 

“Just like that?” Emma pulled back enough to look at his face while keeping her arms tight around him. “After all the hurt I caused you, you can just forgive me?” 

“Aye, just like that. I’m not saying all the hurt is healed or that we don’t have  things to work through. But of course I can forgive you. I love you.” 

“Killian—” 

“Shhhh, let’s just leave it there for now,” he said. “It’s nothing we didn’t both already know. We’ll work on the other half later.” 

“Later,” Emma murmured, snuggling back into his arms. “I like the way that sounds.” 

…

@thisonesatellite​ @katie-dub​ @mariakov81 @stahlop @teamhook @kmomof4 @shireness-says @thejollyroger-writer​ @snowbellewells​ @jennjenn615​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ 

#cs fic #captain swan #canon divergence #3b divergence #angst #smut #angst with a happy ending #cs ff #cs ff au #lots of feelings #some heartbreak #they get there in the end #all the perfect things (that i doubt) #profdanglaisstuff #birthday fic #ohmightydevviepuu

[taiessence]

Beauty or Brains

Tonight, I yelled at a young man that has a deep crush on me. He is young, rude, and 22 years young. I didn’t have to yell at him like I did but for one, I’m 38. 2. These young men talk really crazy. It’s like they think they own you. Well is that a men thing? Tonight, I didn’t want to be bothered and just wish to walk my dog without any interference. But here is a male vying for my attention. He’s gonna talk to me anyway he see fit and say anything to get my attention. “Let me see my DOG” “OH you not talking.”.

This is a young man that I have reached out to and he don’t take my offers. I text him and he leave me on seen yet when he’s outside with the bros, he got some smart shit to say to me. Oh gawd it grinds my gears. Just simple people. 

 I know if I looked my age these young men would respect me more. Gift and curse thing. I decided to take my picture off of here because immediately I get a DM. I have military sexual trauma and going to the VA hospital without sexual harassment is rare. So cat-calling, men trying to talk to me in a “oh your’e so Hooot”, really triggers some PTSD for me. Men that talk to me like I’m a human is what I go for. You know, a “Hello” or “what’s up”, is okay for me. 

Most people think I’m in my late twenties. It’s a gift and curse. Men from 16 to 75 has hit on me in one day. Now I’m no freaking Naomi but hey they like it and love it. I just like to be left alone or engage in enlightening conversation or laugh. Pretty much it. I love to flirt and really miss flirting. I was a HUGE flirt in my twenties and today I rarely flirt. I think it’s somewhat sad. Covid-19, plays a part, my absence from facebook and IG too. 

I’m very introverted on top of lack of trust with people makes me the type that always carry my Airpods to block out people talking to me, tonight I wish I had them.. I like to call them men blockers. Anything that can distract me from not being distracted by them. Tonight I lost my cool and not happy about it.  I don’t like my space to be terrorized by a foreign enemy, I mean person with toxic energy. I love a great convo and a simple Hello. 

I wrote on here one time and became discouraged. I wish to be taken seriously and all aspects in my life. When I was in my twenties I used my beauty for an advantage. I was taken advantage ALOT, used, and most people believe that pretty people are just plain stupid. Did I turn down the bartender job at the strip club because I felt I was better? Yes. Do I regret it? Yes. Damn I was young and wished I did it but I was living for people back then.  Different periods in my life I would try to hide my beauty to be taken serious. Then I learned that my beauty can help with many things like a promotion at work and making friends. 

I became increasingly popular during these years and I participated in what many others wanted. I wasn’t around a group of people that worked on personal creative goals. These types was the type that go to work and that’s it. I mean when your’e making 6 figures and a comfortable life in the DMV what can you say? I partied, shopped, ate at lavish restaurants and tried to travel as much as I could. I was deeply miserable and wasting money left and right. 

I could not write a sentence from scratch if I needed to. My creativity was lacking. The same years I went through my creativity surge was the same years I stop worrying about being popular. I remember my phone literally screaming Friday nights with at least 20 people asking me what the hell I’m doing. Now I think maybe 10 people check on me possibly quarterly to see if I’m alive because I’m on my no social media kick. When in reality I’m on reddit, twitter, and here. Just a place that I can hide out and don’t have to live up to any one expectations. 

 Back then, every step was made to ensure my friends, associates, and some random neighbor next door was pleased with me. The years went by and reaching my early thirties the social fauxness of it all was suffocating. Now today, at 38, I know my beauty and youth is here for a little while longer and thank GAWD I am a proud indigenous copper toned woman. I have seen some signs of age especially by my chin and mouth area but hey I’m learning to accept. We all have to accept age if we’re blessed to get to it. I’m more into my wisdom, leaving things behind for my kids, and also dealing with my own issues. Let’s not say we don’t. I have my strengths and my challenges are my issues. 

So now as I grow and self reflect on my own, the men issue has became worse. This guy tonight, mouthed off, “YOU ARE NOBODY,” repeatedly. Like he really believed him chanting that was gonna make me go in my house and say, “I’m nobody”? Wow. Funny. What is funny is this young man tried to break me down because in my scarf, oil stained shirt and baggy jeans I walk around like I’m Queen Me, because I know I am. That is something that has nothing to do with looks or  beauty because self confidence is a strength. 

I hate how 90% of men talk to women.  I’m single and talk to one guy that takes it slow and guess what? He knows how to talk to me. I have a small circle of friends and don’t need to popular. Never liked being popular because I can’t think.  My career will carry without exposing myself. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love a good bootie shot selfie. I’m a Libra dammit. But with my art, I want to be heard or be distracted by anyone trying to hit on me and not read a damn word I wrote. I take brains for the win. 

#beauty brains women selfconfidence

[luvknow]

sundial | kim seungmin

genre: kim seungmin x fem!reader | light angst ; friends-to strangers-to lovers ; high school/college/spring break au ; mentions of alcohol ; swearing summary: you’re in love with seungmin at the wrong time. wc: 9.6k

“Oh, my God, finally.”

Inside the posh coffee shop in the middle of downtown, Hyunjin sat at one of the tables impatiently awaiting your arrival. Of course you were late, how could you not be when he chose a place to meet up that was closer to his campus than yours!? And during the lunch rush, of all times. He always had a habit of choosing places or ideas that were more convenient to him, but he offered to pay, so it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. The clout you got for hanging out with his stupidly handsome ass was a plus for your social media points, too, so fine, you’ll hang out with him.

Hyunjin had his glasses hanging on the tip of his nose and shot you a sassy glare that reminded you of when your high school teachers would look at you both when you walked into class late because he had to fix his hair in the bathroom.

“Sorry I’m late.”

“No, you’re not,” he scoffed. “What took you so long?”

“I saw this trash bag on the side of the road and I thought it looked just like you, so I stopped and took a picture. Uncanny resemblance, right?” you teased, showing him the trash bag on your phone.

“You think you’re so funny, huh?”

“I’m hilarious.”

The handsome boy sighed dramatically and handed you your favorite order. “Here’s your drink, although it’s probably half water by now.”

“Thanks, and I’ll live.” You happily took the iced drink from his hands.

Hyunjin might be annoying and unbearable on most days, but he was one of your closest friends who regularly kept in touch with you after graduating high school. Meeting up in coffee shops in between classes or grabbing a bite to eat on the weekends was a regular move and those little meet ups were what brought you two closer together. Sometimes the meet ups had a purpose, like he needed last minute tutoring for an exam the next day that he totally forgot about or he was just lonely and wanted some company for dinner. During those times, you’d talk about random shit like some hot chick Hyunjin met at a party, or this drama you were totally into or reminisce about the good ol’ days and it’s like you never left high school.

Ah, the good ol’ days… Were they really that good if they were spent in high school?

You did miss a lot of your other friends that were in the group. It’s not to say that you and the rest of them weren’t close, it was just that your relationship with most of them was more like picking things up where they left off. Hyunjin also went to the college closest to yours, so you often joked about how your friendship with him was based off of convenience, which was kind of true all things considered, right?

“You’re usually not as urgent when it comes to me being late. I think you texted me more today than you have in a month,” you noted suspiciously.

“Can’t I just be eager to see you ~?”

“No.”

“Caught me. I’m eager to see you because I need an answer from you by the time we part ways.”

“You sound so romantic - like when the guy is confessing to the girl when it’s raining and he’s like ‘I love you! I need to know if you love me, too!’”

“Not to disappoint your fantasy of dating me, but I’m not confessing to you. At least not today,” Hyunjin giggled cutely. “A bunch of us are getting together for spring break at Changbin’s vacation home. You down to go?”

“Ah, the vacation home! We have a lot of memories there.”

Both you and Hyunjin could clearly remember after senior Prom all the cheap booze everyone drank for the very first time and both of you hogging the only two bathrooms to hunch over the toilet puking for hours. It was the morning after when everyone appreciated the stash of ramen Changbin had specifically for lunch with a banging hangover.

“And we’re about to make some more memories as dumb kids in college. So are you down, or what?”

“It depends. Who’s going?”

“The usual: Changbin, Jisung, Chaeyoung, Dahyun, Seungmin, Chan -”

“Wait, Seungmin’s going?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t he?”

Seungmin was the only one you didn’t really keep in touch with. There were texts here and there, maybe a Snapchat or two once in a while, but you never made the effort to meet up with him even when he was the one who asked to see you. When your best friend that goes to a different school asks to see you just once every month because he really misses you, the normal response would be for you to be excited because God, you really miss him, too. But your situation was a little more complicated than that.

“Right…” you hesitated.

“Why are you responding like that? You two were like the closest out of all of us.”

You shrugged weakly while playing with the straw in your drink. You hoped your body language could help you lie out of this one. “Even the closest friends can drift apart when their schools are on opposite sides of the country.”

“No, they would find a way to make it work.”

“Yeah, well… This one didn’t go very well.”

Hyunjin sensed your hostility and didn’t push the matter forward. Though his nosy self is curious as to what you meant, you’ll tell him when you’re ready. “Don’t let the awkwardness between you and a couple of others stop you from coming! We’re not the same without you.”

“I don’t know…”

“The _____ I know wouldn’t be such a coward.”

“Hey, I’m not a coward!”

“Then what are you so afraid of!”

“Nothing!”

“All I’m saying is that this isn’t very cash money of you.”

Hyunjin had this charm about him where he could passively pressure anyone into doing anything. It was like the most ordinary superpower known to mere mortals - basically all he’d say to get someone to do something was ‘bet you won’t’, but fancier and with more filler words that made you lose brain cells. Like what does you not being very ‘cash money’ even mean…

“It’s not even for the whole week, it’s during the weekend spring break starts because Changbin has family coming over afterwards. Please come? I’ll be so lonely…”

“Shut up, no you won’t.”

“Give me one good reason why you don’t want to go and I’ll leave you alone. Hell, I’ll even be your alibi and lie for you when everyone asks where you are, but only if you tell me what’s really up.”

Dammit. You had to weigh the pros and cons between telling Hyunjin the truth or sucking it up and going. If you tell him, he’ll stop bothering you, you’ll end up lonely and stuck at home, and now Hyunjin knows that painful secret you keep locked in the apex of your heart. But at least you won’t see the boy in question’s face, you know he won’t go around telling anyone, and your heart is still intact. If you end up going, you’re spending a weekend of a lifetime with your closest friends but that means Seungmin will be there, too. What were you to do if you went and saw him for the first time after avoiding him for so long? Would the heavy weight of guilt rest on your shoulders the whole weekend? Would you feel that familiar crack in your chest? Would your heart be in pieces by the time the weekend was over?

Were you being too dramatic? Maybe. Even though you believed your heart was strong, you couldn’t deny that it was weak for Kim Seungmin.

You could totally lie to Hyunjin, sure, and maybe if he was any other person you probably would have, but your friendship with him meant so much that lying to him was out of the question.

Ok, you’ll go. No one, not even Hyunjin, can know your unprecedented feelings, at least not yet. You’ll suffer through the heartache if it means no one will know.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you said halfheartedly.

“Really!? Awesome! You and I can drive down together. Ah, this is going to be so much fun!”

“I hope so.”

“We’re the closest to the house, so we can leave early and have time to stock up on the goods. Is silver tequila still your drink of choice?”

“Actually, I’m more of a Hennessey girl now ~” you bragged jokingly.

“Wow, are you getting classy on me, babe?”

“For spring break, I am.”

“I suppose Henny-thing is possible on spring break.”

It’s a terrible pun that made you wish you were deaf at that moment, but sadly, Hyunjin was right - anything was possible the moment you see Seungmin.

You met Seungmin by chance. The day you met him was the day the Principal had asked you to show the new kid around school because you shared the same schedule. Of course you agreed because you figured transferring halfway through the year was not easy at all and it’s not like you had the option to decline, anyways. You remembered how shy his smile was, but it still held an undeniable warmth to it - like how the sun rays would peak over the horizon at 6:00 am on a Sunday morning. He matched his smile with a bashful personality, silently nodding and following you around the school like a lost puppy and that’s how it was for about a month. Then you two were partners for assignments, lunch buddies, a carpool dynamic duo, and just like that, Seungmin became your confidant.

Ninety percent of your high school life was spent with Seungmin by your side. The other ten percent was crying over grades, but you easily repressed and replaced those memories with college replicates. You could never do the same to those memories with your best friend. Practically everyone knew how inseparable you two were and that was only because you two came from totally different social classes.

Seungmin was the sports guy. Not necessarily a jock - Minho fit that stereotype more than anyone else - but Seungmin was just naturally good at a lot of sports and still managed to keep his grades up which landed him a full ride to the school he currently attends. All those sports meant a lot of games which also meant a lot of cheerleaders and you know how it goes from there. To put it simply, Seungmin was popular.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as high on the hierarchy of popularity. As long as you weren’t at the bottom of the food chain, the high school protozoan society, you didn’t care where you fell on the infinite layers of the pyramid. But when your friends and his friends and your friends’ friends and his friends’ girlfriends and THEIR friends all knew about how close you two were despite your differences, it was like world peace had spread throughout the school because who knew the star athlete would befriend an understudy like yourself?

That’s pretty much the baseline of how your weird group came together. Seungmin would have his games and matches that you’d always attend and he’d introduce you to his teammates he got close to. You met Hyunjin at a volleyball game; Chan, Minho, and Jisung at a basketball game; Woojin and Changbin at a football game; and Sana and Momo were the cute cheerleaders who never let you forget how much they loved to hug. Seungmin met Felix, Jeongin, Dahyun, and Chaeyoung through you and that was your one big, happy, Breakfast Club-esque loving friend group.

You’re not sure when your heart decided without your consent to flip the switch from platonic to romantic, but you think it was either on one of the nights he sat with you in your parked car with food on your laps talking about the stars and beyond until 2:00 am or when he looked for you in the crowd after winning one of his games. You think it’s the latter because even though those late night talks with mix tapes he made you playing in the background held a special place in your bruised heart, nothing could compete with the feeling of running into his gross and sweaty arms after a game. His hugs were tight, like he couldn’t even bear the thought of ever letting you go. It’s like those cheesy romantic comedy movies set in high school, where the two main characters hug in the middle of the basketball court with confetti falling like snow and they faded out the crowd to focus on how perfectly you fit each others arms.

At least that was how you felt, but you watched way too many rom-coms growing up.

What sealed those feelings in your heart for good like piping hot wax on an envelope was when he asked you to Prom. The way he asked wasn’t extravagant like how all his other teammates asked their dates, but it was perfect nonetheless. It was perfect to you.

It was 9:00 pm on a Wednesday. Your school won this huge basketball game all because Seungmin landed a three pointer right on the buzzer. You went about your natural routine by jumping into his arms before he swung you around, fading out the background noise so it felt like it was just you two in the middle of the gymnasium. When it was time to leave school grounds after he’d finish changing, the skies were pouring.

“Did you bring an umbrella?” he asked you.

“Nope.”

“Same here. Well, I could use a shower after tonight’s game.” Without a warning, the silly boy ran into the rain towards your car with a big grin on his lips, leaving you stunned. Already soaked to the bone, he turned back to you. “Are you coming, or what!?”

“No way, I’ll get sick!”

“You and I can get sick together! C’mon, we won a game today, celebrate with me!”

He ran back to you and dropped his gym bag by your feet before taking your hands and pulling you out from under the awning. The rain was cold that evening, but you focused on the warmth of his hands instead and that was enough to forget about the rain. For a while you two danced as Seungmin screamed the lyrics to Dance Dance and Stop the Rain by Day6 at the top of his lungs with your laughter filling in the gaps.

You felt invincible. You’re in love, and you felt like you could fly forever in the pouring rain. How was he able to do that to you?

Then finally, after catching your breath from singing and laughing, the pouring rain subsided to a light drizzle and it’s the only music you both can hear. You’re too distracted trying to move the hairs stuck on your face to notice Seungmin kept his eyes on you until you returned his gaze with your confused one.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you wondered.

“You don’t have a prom date, right?”

“No, but thanks for reminding me.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“How is me spending prom alone good!?”

“Because I was going to ask if you wanted to go together.”

What. “C-Come again?” you stuttered, hoping the rain was a good excuse to hide your nervousness. Prom? Together? With Seungmin? It’s something you could only imagine in your dreams.

Seungmin got down on one knee and pretended the container of Ice Breakers from his pocket was a ring box. “_____ _____, will you go to Prom with me?”

Your body reacted in different ways. At first, your heart felt like it was racing to flat line, then the butterflies in your stomach fluttered like it was midday summer, and then you felt your head pounding against the walls of your skull. Seungmin was the only one who could make you feel this way.

Of all people, he chose to spend one of the most special nights of your high school life with you.

“Yes, I’ll go, you dork. Now get up before the security man watching us through the cameras gets the wrong idea.”

He looked up at you with his sunshine smile and rosy cheeks and its then when you realized you were in deep trouble.

You never questioned why he asked you. You probably should have - were you going as friends or something more? Did he feel sorry for you because you two were the only ones without dates within your friend group? He had people lining up to be asked by him, so he could have easily asked someone else, but he didn’t. Why?

Prom rolled around quickly, a lot faster than you expected and you were completely terrified. Everyone got together at Changbin’s mansion to get ready - the girls stayed in his sister’s room and the guys were hanging out for a couple hours before actually getting ready because it only took them like ten minutes to do so.

Seungmin was dressed in all black, like the rest of them, with his cherry red hair styled handsomely and standing out from all the black. His mouth was gaping when you entered the room. You were stunning, absolutely breathtaking. He held your delicate corsage in its plastic container and you couldn’t help but imagine that this was like how he had your heart in the palms of his hands.

His grin stretched from ear-to-ear the moment you stopped in front of him.

“You’re so pretty,” he teased, tapping the tip of your nose.

Your heart did a flip. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

And so prom night commenced! It was like any other high school dance except food was provided and the school expanded their budget so they could hire a good Dj for once. The decorations, the food, the occasion itself - none of that mattered the second the dance floor opened up.

Seungmin took your hand and dragged you onto the dance floor, thus making you two the very first couple to break it in. For a couple of seconds, this moment really was like how you’d always imagined it to be - you and Seungmin alone in the middle of the room, not caring about the world surrounding, and simply loving each other’s company. The venue could have been burning around you for all you cared, and even then, you don’t think you’d even notice it because Seungmin was with you.

Your friends and classmates joined in not long after, causing you to shorten the gap with your best friend. With your hands in his, bodies close, surrounded by your favorite people, even though the idea of dancing alone with Seungmin sounded so perfect, sharing the dance floor with all of your friends was nice, too.

Then the slow songs came on and you panicked. How did normal people act in this situation!? Did they just… go right into it? As if reading your mind, Seungmin was already guiding one of your hands to rest on his shoulder. One of his hands ghosted over your waist and the other was occupied holding your other one. It was one thing to hold hands - you were kind of used to the touch - but his hand on your waist was totally new. There were tiny, little electric shocks to your skin whenever you felt pressure in that area. You could feel him switch from ghosting over your waist to actually holding it for the shortest second.

It hit you that he was nervous, too.

“Are you having fun?” you asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“If I’m with you, always.” Your heart hurts. “How about you?”

“It’s never a dull moment when I’m with you.”

“I’m the life of the party, huh?”

“Well, you’re definitely the party in my life.”

“I’ll hold that title with the highest honor.”

“You better, Kim Seungmin.”

Being in his arms lasted too shortly. The dance ended with Seungmin being crowned Prom King and some girl from the same social ranking was crowned the Queen.

“Hold tight,” he told you. “I’ll be all yours again in a minute.”

They danced to some slow song to commemorate the occasion and somehow you’re not jealous. Rather, you felt alone. Seungmin could have been dancing with anyone. Hell, he didn’t have to be dancing at all for you to have felt that way. Just looking at him, standing within the circle of people, watching him smile the same way that made your heart flip, made you feel so, so small - like the tiny moon being compared to the vastness of the sun. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen feet away from you, yet he felt a million miles away.

What hurts the most was that this - whatever you and him were - was as good as it could get.

That’s just how it was, and that’s how it would always be, because Seungmin fell for the other girl in his arms a week later.

The sun was so warm even though it was only 8:00 am. The feeling was reminiscent of a simpler time. It took you back to when you were still in high school, hanging out with your friends until the sun rose again the next day with the only thing worrying your young minds was what kind of food you all wanted to eat. You and the girls didn’t bother suggesting any places because the guys would be yelling and arguing too much to listen, but it got to the point where you and the ladies were hashtag over it and went ahead to the place and texted the guys, ‘see you @ this location’. Eventually the guys learned to compromise, so now everyone got a turn to pick a place to eat.

The sun wasn’t the same in college. Sunrises and sunsets weren’t spent at the beach, but rather spent in the library on weekdays or you completely slept through them on weekends. At least this weekend you could be in the sun again. It was already off to a good start when you and Hyunjin soaked up the Vitamin D in his I’m-a-privileged-kid convertible.

“Whoa, your car has a camera, too!?” you gushed, pressing every button imaginable.

“Yes, now stop messing with my settings!”

“I call Dj! How do I turn up the bass in this thing?”

The journey to the famous vacation home was a couple of hours away, so with all of the pit stops for grocery shopping and instagrammable scenes to capture, you both would arrive around noon. You both practically wiped out the snacks and frozen foods section of the general store and with the bottles of alcohol and red solo cups in the second cart, the cashier was totally judging your guys’ purchases when the store only opened fifteen minutes ago. You tried to hide your shame behind Hyunjin, but he proudly swiped his credit card and bid the cashier a wonderful day. (“Why are you so embarrassed!? They’ll never see us again.”)

“So are you going to tell me what’s up with you and Seungmin or am I going to have to respect your silence?” Hyunjin asked after eating the french fry you fed him from your fingertips.

You knew he was going to ask eventually, so you weren’t thrown off when he asked, but that didn’t calm your nervous one bit. You might as well tell him. What did you have to lose?

“Promise not to tell anyone?”

“Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good. But I pinky promise.”

“It’s nothing huge… Things just aren’t how they used to be, you know?”

“You said so yourself that even the closest friends can drift away, but why is it that when you hang out with the others, it seems like things haven’t changed at all? Now that I mention it, I can’t remember the last time I saw you hanging out with Seungmin. When was the last time, anyways?”

“When did we graduate high school…?”

“Seriously, _____!?”

“I couldn’t do it, Hyunjin!”

“It’s not because you’re in love with him or something, are you?”

There was a short silence after what he thought was a rhetorical question and he can only assume from there because God forbid that you’d admit something like that out loud. Harshly, he pinched your arm hoping he’d knock some sense into you.

“Ow, what the hell! I didn’t say anything!” you whined.

“You didn’t have to!”

“It’s complicated, ok?”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” Hyunjin ran a hand through his messy hair as if he knew delved into something deeper than what he expected. “For how long?”

“I don’t know… Around Prom maybe?”

“Isn’t that around the time he started dating what’s-her-name?”

“Yeah. Let’s just say the whole avoiding him thing started around that time, too.”

“_____, you need to tell him.”

“Are you out of your mind!? Why would I ever do that!?”

“You know they broke up like last year, right?”

Your heart did that familiar little flip. “Really?”

“Yes!”

“But that still doesn’t mean I should tell him. It’ll just make everything more complicated than it already is and what if I ruin the dynamic of this group? What if it gets awkward and you guys have to pick sides or alternate who you hang out with on certain days like kids of divorced parents?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“How do you know?”

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh as if he’s heard this too many times before. “You can’t let Seungmin know what I’m about to tell you. And don’t be mad, ok?”

“What do you mean…?”

“He asks about you all the time.”

Oh. Well that was unexpected.

“He does?” Either the sun was too hot or your heart was racing too fast, but you could feel your cheeks burn brighter after every passing second. Where did you put the sunscreen?

“When he sees you on my Snapchat, whenever he and I are texting, hell even when he’s at some party at three in the morning, he’ll ask me how you are because I guess I’m the closest he’ll ever get to you these days. He really misses you, you know? He wasn’t going to come on this trip unless you were going, so I promised him that I’d get you to go. Luckily that wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be.”

Hyunjin’s words struck your chest painfully and you’re filled with guilt, but you couldn’t risk mistaking Seungmin’s gestures for reciprocating your feelings when in reality he was just trying to be a good friend and make up for your lack of effort. Seungmin was always so caring and thoughtful of you, and what did you end up doing after graduation? Ghosting him and making up excuses because you were a coward.

“It’s up to you whether you want to tell him or not,” Hyunjin said, breaking the tense silence. “But I say shoot your shot.”

“You always say shoot your shot.”

“Yeah, but how often do I make my shots? Like one hundred percent of the time. That’s both precision and accuracy, baby, so you should trust my word.”

“But I’m not you, Hyunjin.”

“Very true, but you could be missing out on something great if you don’t go for it. _____, you and Seungmin… There’s no one out there that could be more perfect for each other than the two of you.”

“You think so?” The way your words came out sounded more like a surprise instead of you begging for some reassurance and you hoped Hyunjin caught that before he fed the little glimmer of hope inside your heart.

“I know so.”

Why did he have to say that?

The vacation house was exactly the same as it was on Prom night, only a lot cleaner. You almost forgot how huge it was - it was the biggest one on the block. Only the biggest and the best for the Seos.

Hyunjin parked behind a shiny black Audi that had Chan’s name written all over it.

“My car is still sexier, right?” Hyunjin pouted.

“I don’t know, dude. You got some competition.”

Changbin, Chan, and Sana greeted you both with open arms and tight hugs before helping you bring all of your stuff and the supplies in. The three were already dressed in their swimwear ready to soak up the sun while dipping their toes into the crystal clear waters of the lake and you couldn’t wait to join in. Sana dragged you to the girls’ room which was really just Changbin’s sister’s room, but it was the biggest one in the house.

“I missed you!” she gushed cutely while clinging onto you like a leech. You weren’t as hug-y like the rest of the group, but you admit that Sana’s hugs were one of the few you missed dearly.

“I missed you, too, you dork.”

“So ~” she sang suggestively with some sort of implication hiding in her tone.

“What…”

“I heard Seungmin was coming ~ And he’s single ~”

“Sana!” you shrieked, covering her giggling mouth. “Shut your pretty little mouth!”

“So you do like him!?” she muffled under your hands.

“How in the hell did you figure that out!?”

“Girl’s intuition? You’re also a terrible liar.”

“... I’m going by the lake.”

“Wait, me too!”

As the hours passed, more and more people started arriving and the fun was just getting started. By the time Jisung and Minho’s loud asses arrived, the tables were already set up outside and the liquor was practically pouring itself into everyone’s cups. All that was left was Seungmin and Woojin to arrive with boxes and buckets of pizza and chicken.

At the edge of the mini pier, Sana kept on nudging you whenever she noticed you look towards the door.

“Nervous?” she teased again.

“You have no idea.”

“Just don’t worry about it! Let the drinks do the talking for you!”

“It’s barely 2:00 pm, you alcoholic.”

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

As if God wanted you to suffer, Hyunjin sloppily swung open the back door of the house to reveal Woojin and Seungmin holding lunch.

“WOOSEUNG IN DA HOUSE!” Hyunjin yelled, hoping you would hear.

Time began to move slowly - so slow that you hoped time would just stop so you wouldn’t have to live through the weekend. You instantly regretted agreeing to coming here the moment Seungmin laid his big, curious eyes right on you. He found you right away like he was looking for you and you only. Time completely paused once you were caught under his gaze and you felt like you were turning into stone. You felt like the many men who fell under Medusa’s gaze - where was your Perseus when you needed him? (He was busy eating a chicken leg. Hyunjin was literally The Worst Perseus.)

Time only returned back to normal when he smiled at you. It’s been so long since you’ve seen it, but you could never forget a smile like his that held a special place in your heart - it was irreplaceable. His eyes did the cute little upturn that had your heart racing faster than you realized and now time was moving too fast. Were you panicking? Maybe, but you couldn’t tell. He lifted his hand to wave at you but instead of returning the gesture, you jumped into the lake.

The water was cold. Even though you could see the sun rays from underneath the surface, they didn’t warm up the lake like you hoped. You appreciated the scattering, glittering light for only a second. The colors reminded you of all the fairytale stories about mermaids and pirates and oh, how you wished to be that young and naive again. The union of yellows and blues helped you calm down before you returned to the real world once more.

“Yo, you good?” Changbin called from the pier. Seungmin stood right next to him, worry painting his beautiful face and you felt your body sink deeper under the surface.

“Yeah! I, uh, thought I saw something shiny down there…!”

“Quit being weird and eat with us!”

Reluctantly, you headed towards the ladder on the pier. Water droplets were blinding your eyes when an anonymous person gave you their hand for help and it took a few blinks to see that it was Seungmin.

Under the shade, his hair color was a warm chestnut, but under the sun, flecks of cherry berry strands peaked out proudly.

“Hey,” he greeted before wrapping a towel around your shoulders. You’re shaking, but not because you’re cold. “I think you need this.”

“Hi… And thanks.”

“How are you -”

“Ti~ime to eat!” Hyunjin yelled, dragging both of you towards the picnic table. Thank Zeus for your Perseus.

Woojin found the restaurant where he bought the fried chicken from around midnight the night after Prom. He was so damn hungry after a vigorous game of Smash that he ordered the catering option on the menu and had it delivered. He didn’t want the set up or anything, he just wanted lots and lots of chicken, for all of you of course, and you remembered how much you and the girls clung to him as a thank you for buying real food that wasn’t chips and dip. He didn’t order the entire menu this time now that there was pizza, too, but everyone was happy with the food choices,

Seungmin sat across from you at the picnic table and you wished you had a drink in your hands to chug so you couldn’t worry about his presence. It didn’t help that Sana sat beside you, kicking you at random times throughout lunch both in a teasing manner and as a ‘talk to him, you weirdo’ manner.

“You still only eat the wings?” Seungmin asked.

“Hm?”

Looking down, he was right - you strictly had spicy wings on your plate. Whenever you and Seungmin got a combo plate at any chicken restaurant, you both would split it down the middle. You favored the spicier pieces and Seungmin opted for the milder ones. You expected his plate to be full with mild drumsticks, but his taste must have changed over the years because a spicy wing or two surprised his plate. Yours, on the other hand, stayed the same. What a weird metaphor for how the years in between affected you two.

“Since when did you eat spicy?” you asked.

“Since I didn’t have you hoarding all the pieces.”

“Ah, you should have said something back then! Now I feel bad.”

“You know I could never say no to you.” Seungmin teased.

Despite your restraint, despite the ache in your chest, you couldn’t help but smile. It was nice talking to you again. He was so happy that you were here right in front of him after so long. Even if it seemed like you were miles away.

After lunch, you and Seungmin were the only ones who helped clean up while the rest dove into the cooler or prepared the solo cups for drinks. Luck must have been on your side today - or rather Seungmin’s.

He wanted to talk to you - to ask you how you’ve been; to ask why you never wanted to see him; to tell you he misses you so, so much. But he didn’t. He stayed silent. You stayed silent. It hurts - everything, anything, all of it.

You spent the rest of daylight away from Seungmin. How was it that even talking about something as stupid as chicken wings gave you heartache? Or maybe it was heartburn? Regardless, being near Seungmin wasn’t good for you. No matter how many times today he tried to talk to you, to be beside you, to get you to even look in his direction, nothing worked. It’s like you wanted nothing to do with him.

What did he do to have you hate him this much?

“He keeps looking over here,” Sana noted while you both dipped your feet in the lake. She left the teasing tone behind when she noticed you hadn’t smiled as often as you should be on spring break.

“Why…?”

“He misses you.”

“I wish everyone would stop saying that.”

“Fine fine, I won’t bother you with it anymore.”

Just when you thought you could sit calmly without a care in the world, without wondering about how the boy you loved was looking at you, your serenity was interrupted by Sana pushing you into the lake. The icy water knocked the sorrow out of you and now all you wanted was revenge.

“You bitch!” you giggled before yanking Sana in by her feet.

Then chaos ensued! From the rope hanging on the tree to floating on the little inflatable banana, everyone joined you two in the lake. Laughter filled the open air and for the first time since Seungmin arrived, you didn’t think about him at all, even when you felt his eyes on you.

Your smile was still the same. So was your laugh, your little nose crinkle, and the blush that adorned your cheeks. With the setting sun behind you, Seungmin was reminded how you were still so beautiful. How could he have forgotten? It really must have been that long.

Your hair clung to your face the same way it did when it rained.

After the boys were tired to jumping off of the rope, taking flexing pics with the girls, and a hundred rounds of chicken, the sun set calmly below the horizon. Orion’s belt glittered the night sky first and that let everyone know it was time to bring the festivities inside.

“You comin’?” Hyunjin asked.

“Gimme a sec. The city doesn’t get a view like this, y’know?”

“Don’t stay out too long, you’ll get sick.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

The night air was crisp and cool, peaking through the holes of your knit sweater. It helped you sober up from what little alcohol was left in your system and you felt good even though you were alone. The slow winds dried your hair while you sat contently at the edge of the pier and for a short while, you just enjoyed the reflection of the moon on the water in solidarity.

Seungmin joined you shortly after he wrapped a towel around you again and you’re no longer nervous nor bothered by his presence. It was time to face the inevitable. Seungmin was always quite persistent when it came to you, so why bother fighting it. So here you two were - old, distant friends sitting at the edge of the pier in a tense silence waiting for the other to say something.

“Hi,” Seungmin began.

Your heart flipped. “Hi.”

“How are you?”

He was trying to be careful with his words - tip toeing around you so he doesn’t scare you away. How does one go about a conversation after being absent for so long? How are you, he asked? You’re coasting through torturous monotony. Before you could answer, he corrected himself.

“I guess it’s more like how have you been? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“A couple of years now.”

“Yeah… why is that?”

His tone was a homogeneous mix of curiosity, hurt, and upset and it was hard to tell the difference. He’s not mad, that you’re sure of, because you had to have your reasons, right? But would you be honest with him about it?

“What do you mean?” you questioned innocently.

Seungmin jumped right into it. “Why don’t we ever see each other anymore? Did I do something wrong?”

No, of course not! “No, that’s not -”

“Then what is it? You don’t answer my calls, my texts, or anything! I need a middleman just to get to you! What am I supposed to do when I’m up at 3:00 am at some party drunk off my ass and I’m somehow still thinking about you and worried about whether you’re eating right or sleeping enough!? I can’t call you because you won’t answer, so you know what I do? I call Hyunjin, and it hurts. It hurts because I’m sitting here wondering if you even miss me, too, or that you already replaced me with him, but I still call him because I miss you, _____. But I also can’t be calling Hyunjin every single time I think about you.”

He was like water breaking a beaver dam with his emotions spilling all at once. Seungmin’s angry and his voice is shaky, but he’s not angry at you. He’s angry at time and how time functioned. Something like this was inevitable, right? Moving cross-country to different schools, dating other people, drifting apart, forcing yourself to forget about him just so the pain in your chest would subside… It was bound to happen.

“Do you remember our promise?” he asked.

There was a huge get-together, one last hoorah at Woojin’s place before everyone parted ways to different colleges. Seungmin would be the first to leave tomorrow and it hadn’t hit you until you and him stood on the rooftop of the apartment complex overlooking a place you called home one last time.

“Are you all packed?” you asked quietly.

“Mhm.”

“Got your teddy bear and everything?”

“You know it.”

“Posters? Decor? Pictures of friends?”

“Yes, yes, and yes, although half of them are of you and me.”

“Perfect.” The tears in your eye were stinging. “How is Yuna taking it?”

“Way worse than you are, that’s for sure.”

“That’s how all girlfriends are supposed to be.”

“It’ll be worse after she drops me off tomorrow. You know how dramatic she can get.”

“Sure.”

Yuna would be the last one to see him. She’d be the last to hug him, to kiss him, to tell him she loves him, and it was better this way.

He nudged you with his elbow and brought you out of your thoughts. “What’s up with you, space case?”

“Nothing, I just…” The tears start to fall. “I’ll miss you a lot. That’s all.”

He chuckled because how could you be so silly? Of course he’d miss you, too, but nothing would change. There was nothing for you to be sad about. Seungmin pulled you into a big bear hug and smoothed out your messy hair that got tangled in the wind. His hugs felt like home.

“I’ll miss you so much, _____-bear. I promise I’ll keep in touch.”

“Ok, I believe you.”

“Never replace me, ok? I’ll fight someone if I have to, I swear.”

“I believe you,” you giggled.

“Promise you’ll never forget me?”

“How could I forget THE Kim Seungmin?”

“Just promise me. Please?”

“I promise I’ll never forget you, Kim Seungmin.”

“Mm, good. You know I love you, right?”

You’re crying harder and it hurts to breathe.

“I love you, too.”

“Did you forget? About the promise - about me?”

Seungmin was looking at you, silently begging for you to return the favor, but you refused. It’s like he didn’t know who you were anymore.

“I could never forget about you,” you reassured. You were unforgettable.

“Then where were you!? Where were you when I missed you? When I missed home? When I aced my final and wanted someone to tell me they were proud of me? When I was heartbroken over Yuna? Or when I just needed to know you were ok!?”

Where were you? Drowning your sorrows in some cheap jungle juice? Dying at the library maybe? Somewhere with Hyunjin? Most importantly, you were probably ignoring those feelings for him deep in the apex of your heart. That���s what you were doing on most days.

All that effort went to waste in the end.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled pathetically. “It’s been rough these past couple of years.”

“Me, too, and that’s why I needed you. Do you not need me anymore?”

You’ll always need him. No matter how far apart you are, no matter how hard you denied it, no matter how much you tried to forget him, deep down you knew you’ll always need him. The heartache would be worth it as long as he was with you, so you should stop fighting yourself, right? It would subside one day.

“I’ll always need you,” you whispered. “Maybe I just needed to be alone. In high school, I didn’t know who I was without you - isn’t that crazy? We’d been stuck together for so long and now we’re facing adulthood alone. Well, I’m alone, at least.”

“I’m lonely, too.”

“Yeah, but you have Yuna.”

“Had.”

“Right, sorry.”

“But you have, Hyunjin, don’t you?”

“I see him like twice a month and we don’t talk about that kind of stuff, so that doesn’t really count in my book.”

“Twice a month? That’s a lot… Yuna and I didn’t even see each other that often…” There’s a hint of jealousy in his tone and you shouldn’t feel accomplished, but it felt good to be on the other end of the spectrum for once.

“Can I ask…?” you hesitated. Were you ready to open a can of worms you weren’t prepared for?

“You mean what happened with Yuna?” Seungmin shrugged carelessly as if heartbreak was just a thorn in his side. “Even I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“One day I’m telling her ‘I love you’ and the next day I can’t say it back.” He laughed but it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You just stopped loving her…?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know!?”

“Ah, don’t get mad!”

“I-I’m not…!” you lied. Ok, you’re not mad, you’re more confused if anything, but how could he not know what went wrong in their relationship!?

“Funny, that’s exactly how she reacted when I said I don’t know.”

“If I ask a guy I’m in love with why he doesn’t love me back anymore and he says, ‘fuck if I know’, you bet your ass I’m gonna be pissed!”

He laughed again, but this time it was genuine. Then a comfortable silence fell in between. Seungmin got what he wanted to say off of his chest and you two were bickering like you would in high school, but he knew there was something you were holding back. The _____ he knew was never this shy around him. Yes, things have changed, but even he speculated it couldn’t be by that much, right?

“Are you ok now?” you asked.

“After the break-up? Oh yeah, I’m fine. The first week was bad, but I’m ok now.”

“That’s good. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.”

“It’s ok. As long as you’re here now and you won’t ghost me anymore.”

The heartache would be worth it. “I promise.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can continue missing you like this anymore.”

Seungmin loved the moon. She was beautiful tonight, but not when compared to you. In the same sense, you loved the sun, but you loved Seungmin more. The love story of the sun and the moon was tragic, wasn’t it? Fate decided that two beings full of light and love destined to only love each other would never cross paths. They would perpetually revolve around the Earth for eternity only getting a glimpse of each other every twelve hours, seeing the other fall below the horizon just before they could even say hello. But once every four hundred years, the sun kissed the moon during the solar eclipse. Waiting four hundred years was nothing compared to the short moment they shared together. It was worth every second when the timing was right.

“_____.”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

So this is it.

“I have.”

You saw Seungmin tense up next to you. He must not have expected you to say yes right away. “Really…?”

“Mhm,” you hummed with more confidence. Seeing his reaction was kind of fun. Was he wondering who you could be in love with?

“What’s it like?”

“You should know better than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that… But what’s it like for you? What’s it like for cold-hearted _____ to be in love?”

“I’m not cold-hearted! Am I…?”

“Ghosting me for two years is kind of cold-hearted in my eyes.”

“Ok ok, I deserve that.”

“Tell me, _____. Tell me your love story.”

You hugged your knees close to your chest hoping they’d protect your heart a little more than the cage it was already in, but she was wild like a bird and ready to break through any second. Not even you could anticipate how she’d react while you told your story.

“I wouldn’t call it a story,” you shrugged. “There’s no plot, no character development, no comic relief - hell, there’s not even a resolution of conflict. It’s just one big cloud of conflict.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, to be honest.”

“Why was it conflicting? Doesn’t being in love make all your problems irrelevant? Doesn’t it make you want to fly?”

“It did at first, but now it feels like my wings have been clipped and just the thought of flying hurts because I want what I can’t have.”

“Now? You’re in love now?” he asked incredulously.

Curse the Freudian slip. “I-It’s just a metaphor…!”

You watched his shoulders relax. “Is your love story happy at all?”

“It’s more of a tragedy than anything else.”

“What happened?”

“How does that one saying go? You can’t help who you fall in love with? I guess I fell for the wrong person.”

“Couldn’t it just have been the wrong timing? Love just doesn’t fall into your lap. If you’re meant to be, you’ll end up with each other eventually, right?”

“I don’t know if I really believe in that.”

“Why not? The sun thought the same thing when he first fell in love with the moon and bam, four hundred years later, when the timing was right, they were together in a painfully beautiful eclipse. Total eclipse of the heart in the most literal sense.”

“Solar eclipses don’t even last ten minutes!”

“That’s not the point!”

“Well, what about you and Yuna, hm? Did you think you guys just fell in love at the ‘wrong time’?”

“No, we simply weren’t right for each other. I don’t think we’ll ever get back together - it’s not like she’s my soulmate.”

“Please don’t tell me you believe in that stuff, too!” you groaned loudly. Even in the midst of all the bickering, neither of you could hold in cheek-burning smiles, arguing just like the old times. You missed this just as much as you missed him.

“Of course I believe in it! How can you not!?”

“That’s not fair, Yuna reciprocated your love. You believe in this kind of stuff because you got to love and be loved and learn that you weren’t right for each other. So obviously, you fell for the wrong person at the time, right? It wasn’t just the timing of things.”

“But we both knew that because we were being honest with our feelings for each other, regardless of how we ended. How can you know for sure you just fell for the wrong guy or if it was the wrong time when you’ve never told him how you feel!?”

“Because you loved Yuna!!”

Crickets chirped in the bushes, lightning bugs danced by the shore, and pesky little mosquitoes stung the surface of your skin. You tried focusing on anything, even bugs, just so you wouldn’t have to look at Seungmin’s twisted and confused face. You should jump in the lake again - you would sink beneath the surface and hope evolution would turn you into a mermaid in a matter of seconds so you could swim away and never return.

You wanted to get up and run inside, but you were too tired. You wanted to cry, but even so, you were too tired. You wanted Seungmin to leave you for good and give you the answer you needed to hear, but maybe he was also too tired…

Even if he did leave, even if he ignored you forever, even if he hated you for loving him as more than a friend, would that make everything easier? It had to be better than this silence, right? It was so quiet that you could hear your heart collapsing as the seconds passed.

When You Love Someone by Day6 played on the shitty speaker of Seungmin’s phone.

“Do you remember this song?” he asked.

You could feel his eyes bore holes into your soul. “This played at Prom, didn’t it?”

“It was our first slow dance together.” Seungmin hopped up from his seat and held a hand out to you. He chuckled at your confused expression. “Dance with me.”

It was a command, not a question, so you reluctantly (gladly) obeyed. With both your hands in his, he pulled you up and guided both around his neck. His hold on your waist was not as shy as it was on Prom night. You’re not used to this confident side of him, but you figured it was just one of the few things about him that changed after not seeing him for so long.

You liked it.

Your collapsing heart was beating rapidly in your chest and with the nonexistence of the gap between you and Seungmin, you swore he could feel it, too. It was so loud - louder than the song playing on his phone. No one other than him could make you feel like you could die and fly at the same time.

“What are you doing?” you whispered.

“Reliving high school.”

“Ew, why?”

“What, you didn’t like being my Prom date?”

“It’s not that, it’s just why would you want to relive high school? It sucked ass.”

His laugh was music to your ears. “Yeah, it did, but it sucked less with you next to me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.”

You could feel Seungmin play with the hem of your sweater as the song ended. A queue wasn’t set up, so you and the boy you loved swayed to the crickets chirping in the bushes.

“Are you in love with me now or was that just a metaphor?” he asked.

“Seungmin…”

“I need to know if you loved the wrong guy or you loved me at the wrong time.”

“I…”

Seungmin was always a patient man, but not today - not in this moment. He needed to know your answer.

“I tried everything. I haven’t talked to you for years, I avoided you at all costs, and I almost gave up the chance of seeing everyone all together again because I knew you’d be here and I didn’t know what I’d do when my heart couldn’t handle seeing you. I tried everything to not to feel this way about you, and none of it worked. Maybe you are the wrong guy, maybe it was at the wrong time, maybe it’s both, but no matter how hard I try, I could never stop loving you.”

The tears in your eyes blur the lightning bugs floating around you two. Everything hurts. Even when Seungmin held you tightly against his chest, trying to keep you whole, your confession made you feel broken. There’s no longer that heavy burden of hiding your feelings weighing you down, but you still felt incomplete. Empty.

“_____-bear,” he hushed, calling you by your beloved nickname he made. “Timing is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s a terrible thing.”

“Only sometimes. But today, it’s almost perfect.”

“How?” you asked, quite insulted that he’d say such a thing with you crying in his arms.

“After two years of trying to get to you, today I got to see you. I got to talk to you. I got to dance with you. I got you to confess your undying love to me. And now I’m here, under the moonlight, with you in my arms. The timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Don’t say those things unless you mean it, Kim Seungmin.”

“I could never lie to you, _____-bear. Not when you’re the right person at the right time.”

You sighed heavily, the shakiness in your breath apparent and Seungmin held you tighter. He kissed the top of your head when you buried your face into his chest. He felt like home.

“You make it so hard to stop loving you,” you mumbled.

“Good,” he replied. “Don’t ever stop. Even after I do this.”

“Do what -!?”

Seungmin must have been working out since you last saw him because with ease, he picked you up and jumped into the lake with you screaming in his arms. The water was still cold, much colder than it was earlier today and you knew you were both going to get sick after this. Before you could scold him and swear up a storm, his lips shut you up and you figured this was what it felt like to fly.

“I hate you,” you cried out after pulling away.

He moved strands of hair that stuck to your face. “That’s too bad because I love you.”

You couldn’t handle his corny words, so now it was your turn to shut him up.

The water was cold, but at least his lips kept you warm.

EPILOGUE

“Are they making out yet?” Sana asked Hyunjin who hogged the window space.

“I think so? I can’t see now that they’re in the lake.”

“Finally! It’s about time!”

“Yeah, but now we’re going to get front row seats to their PDA…”

“Oh God, it’s only Saturday, isn’t it?”

“And we’re here until Monday morning…”

“Great…” Sana handed Hyunjin a full cup of some mystery drink. “Cheers to spring break.”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #skz #stray kids #skz seungmin #stray kids seungmin #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #don't get mad at me this has ZERO plot ok it's all filler words aksjdklajdslakj #this did not take long at all wow #like 3 days tbh #omg i know it's a lot of hyunjin too LMAO SORRY #ah.... i'm nervous about this one

[anastasiaskarsgard]

CR NEWS Bill

Maybe if I just ignore them, they’ll go away. After five minutes, I decide this probably isn’t the best plan. Especially since they can literally see me through the window.

“MOTHERFUCKERS!” I yell as I swing open the door and my PR team hustles inside, nearly knocking my drink out of my hand.

“Are you really drunk at 10am on a Tuesday?” Melissa the lead PR tyrant asks me.

“Two guesses, first one doesn’t count. And for your information .... yes.” I giggle. I keep a steady buzz on the daily.

“What happens today?” A short red head I haven’t seen before demands.

“Who the fuck are you?” I snap.

She blushes and lowers her eyes. Good.

“Be nice! This is Mandy. She’s new, and I’m sure you remember Tristain, Melissa says gesturing towards her slim British assistant.

“So why are you here? As great as it is to catch up, I was trying to be a degenerate and you’re fucking it all up with the judging.” I say as I light a cigarette and head out to the backyard.

It’s a nice day so I think I’ll swim.

“You have that interview in three hours with CR News. The guy interviewing you is really hot too.”

I strip nude and hear Mandy gasp. I turn around and wink at her before diving in the pool. When I come back up Melissa and Mandy are whisper arguing while tristain picks at his nails.

“Has she never seen a naked woman before? I’m told I’m one of the best, so you’re welcome Mandy.”

“Girl you are out of control.” Tristain chuckles.

Mandy storms outside as Melissa turns to me, hands on hips “what did I say about nudity.”

“We are not in public.”

“Let’s add on that you can’t get nude in front of anyone you just met.”

“There goes my sex life.”

“You’re impossible! We are here to make sure you’re ready, on time and sober. That last little stunt you pulled can’t happen again.”

Of course she’s referring to the award show i went to last week in a see through dress. Considering I’m a Victoria’s Secret model, I thought showing everyone my underwear was ideal, but some of the other companies I model for weren’t as enthusiastic.

“Do you seriously think I’d go on a news program in something see through?”

She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “We brought you some beautiful outfits to choose from and Tristain is ready to do your hair and make-up. You just need to relax and —“

“Be you’re good little Barbie.” I roll my eyes but allow them to lead me in my house and get me all ready.

CR news is supposedly a new up and coming show. It’s mainly focused on men I think but I’m not positive. I’ve honestly never watched it. I’ve heard that the interviewer is pretty unpredictable and gorgeous which is intriguing.

We are all loaded in the limo, on our way to the studio when I realize Tristain is a liar...

“Where’s the booze? You said there was hella liquor in here, is there like a trick door or..”

“Baby girl, you’re gonna be sober for this interview. Well. Soberish.”

“I thought you were my boy blue? What happened to us? When did it fall apart?” I tease. I’m not really mad, I get it, but dammit, I really don’t have anything to take the edge off?

We pull up to the studio and my stomach is in knots. I drink for my social anxiety. Although I am supposedly one of the most beautiful women in the world, and I parade around nude like it’s nothing, it’s all overcompensating for being afraid of meeting new people. I know it’s ridiculous, but that doesn’t change how nervous I feel.

I get out and follow everyone inside, where I’m taken to a dressing room. Hair and make up people are in there waiting, but I’m already all ready so they just do a once over and tell me I have an hour till everything starts.

“This is why I’m never on time, let alone early.” I bemoan my predicament.

A cute little girl is there looking at me like I’m Jesus, so I say hi and she begins to tear up.

“Oh my god sweetie! Why are you crying?” I say as I make my way over to her and open my arms for a hug. I hate seeing people cry. “Was someone mean to you?”

“No, I just can’t believe it’s you! I am your biggest fan. I think you’re so beautiful, but all the charity work you do is so important and the media tries to make you out like this hot mess but you just don’t care what anyone thinks of you and that’s so inspiring for so many girls out there!” She says as she falls into my arms, clinging to me like a magnet.

See shit like this is why I need a drink. I can never let my fans down complaining about anxiety. When I first got in the business, one of the party girls took me under her wing and we went out, and I was so nervous I got drunk. Of course it was all captured by the paparazzi and I was forever dubbed a wild child. But somehow I am an inspiration and an expert at giving no fucks, which I do standby. so I just maintain that image, eventhough most of the time I’m terrified. Therefore I’ve been drunk pretty steady since last March. Well not drunk, buzzed. I try not to get drunk cuz then I do the dumbest shit, and a lot of it involves nudity.

“You are the cutest sweetest thing! Thank you! That seriously means a lot! Do you want some pictures or autographs?”

“Oh my gosh! Please?”

“Turn on your Instagram and we will make a story.” I mean I have an hour, might as well. The poor girl looks like she’s gonna faint. “You know what? Hair and make up, you’re here. Do her, so she looks her best and then we’ll make a cute video!”

Hair and make up shrug their shoulders and sit the girl down and get to work.

“I need a drink!” I moan.

“Water, coffee, tea, juice-“ one of the assistants starts rattling off.

“I’ll take juice if you’ve got some vodka.” I tell her, and can literally see her judging me. Yuck!

“I’m sorry but we are a smoke free, alcohol free, drug free facility. We judge sinful vices very harshly here.” She states snarkyly.

I turn around and fix my coldest glare on her, and it doesn’t take her more than a few seconds to excuse herself. Probably gonna go tell on me to my babysitters.

“My big brother probably has some.” The fangirl suggests. “He’s just two doors down on the right.”

“Ooh. Think he’ll take pity on me? What’s his name?”

She looks at me like I’m kidding, but it’s pretty clear by my clueless face, I’m serious.

“He’s Bill Skarsgard. He’s interviewing you. I’ll text him.”

She pulls her phone out and texts him, and almost immediately replies. “He says come to his room real quick.”

“Oh my God! I’m your biggest fan now.” I smile at her and quickly make my way to his door and knock. I didn’t want to be seen going in the room with him, so I wasn’t really thinking about meeting him as much as getting out of the hall. When the door opened, I rushed through and closed it, when I am sll of a sudden all too aware of the best looking motherfucker I have ever seen in my life. I’m at least six foot in these heels and he’s still a considerable amount taller than me. He smells really nice but his god damn face is almost upsetting. He’s got the greenest eyes and sharp angles from the best bone structure like he’s the damn model. His angular features are contrasted by some of the softest looking puffy lips and the cutest nose I’ve ever seen.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I reach up and boop him on the nose “boop.” OH. MY. GOD. What have I done?

He blushes and smiles and oh my fuck he’s got dimples. We just stand there smiling and staring at each other like complete assholes but my mind has been overloaded with all his fucking hotness, so I got nothing.

His phone beeps and snaps us out of our awkward staring contest. “Thank you for being so nice to Valerie. You have no clue how excited she was to meet you.”

I still got nothing. I’m looking at his hands and then back up to his face. He was big pretty hands and I wish I was in them.

“Is belvedere ok?” He asks me holding up a brand new big bottle of vodka.

I nod and watch him walk over to a little bar area and make two drinks with his beautiful big hands. They wrap around the bottle and it almost looks as though it’s not the large size bottle but it is. He puts ice in the glass and fills it half way. He walks confidently over to me, and I feel like my legs are going to give out, but I don’t show it. I’m an expert at faking self assuredness. He hands me the drink and holds it up. “Let’s make a toast to new funny beginnings. Cheers!”

I clink my glass to his and then down all the vodka in one shot. He raises his eyebrows and chuckles, taking my glass and refilling it. He hands it back to me expectantly and I take a polite sip. “Just had to take the edge off.”

“She speaks! I was getting nervous you didn’t know how to be anything but adorable.”

“That’s my job. Your job requires talking.” I want to slap myself. I sound so rude and dumb but he seems to be amused with my reply.

“Valid point. I must say though, I’m surprised. From how the media makes you out to be, I was expecting a hurricane.”

“I guess that makes you a shitty weather man then.” God damn you liquid courage, and bless you. He’s actually blushing.

“I knew it was going to be a hot one.”

“Did you now?”

“Mmhmm.” He says as he lowers his face and looks through lidded eyes at me.

Then he bites his lip and slowly releases the damn thing and for the first time in my life, I think I wanna suck a dick. Don’t get me wrong, ive done that plenty of times, but to be nice. Never have I ever thought “I wanna choke on this guys cock’ until today. I feel my face heating up as he closes the distance between us and puts his hand on my cheek locking his eyes with mine.

A little voice in the back of my head warns me that being this attracted to someone is not great but I ignore it. Fuck it.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He breathes seductively. He sets down his drink and pulls me close, pressing his body against me. “Now we cant mess up how perfect you look or hair and make up will kill me, but when we are done with that interview, we are coming back in here and it’s gonna be really really wet.”

Gif : @billksarsgard

#bill skarsgard #billy skarsgard #bill skarsgård #anchorman bill #bill drabble #my writing

[bigskydreaming]

Some of the X-Men novels from the 90s were actually pretty good, now that I remember it. They were original stories, not novelizations of already existing comic book arcs, which tends to be my preference when adapting characters to other media, but the downside is sometimes they come up with stuff that you’re like ugh, dammit, why can’t that be in the comics now too.

Like Smoke and Mirrors was this one novel I read in high school where Sinister was the main bad guy, and it had some pretty great stuff in it, and also probably my favorite Betsy POV stuff, though it hopped around to a bunch of characters’ POVs.

Including these five original teenage characters who were like the most adorable little nerds ever. They called themselves the Ohio Mutant Conspiracy to sound cool, but they were basically like the Breakfast Club and were these five high schoolers who nobody knew were mutants until one of them, Slapshot, set up this message board online in the hopes of trying to figure out if there were any other mutants like him in his area. And they eventually met up and started out hanging out every week in this abandoned warehouse after school and talking about how they should totally do something cool or fight crime with their powers. But mostly they were just bored lonely teenagers who were all really bad at admitting that they just wanted to hang out with other ppl like them even though they were from totally different social circles. And the main plot of the novel was this goon squad (hired by Sinister) busting into their warehouse and capturing three of them because kidnapping innocent mutants for nefarious purposes is like, his thing, and the other two got away and then were like okay we’re gonna rescue our friends! We have no idea what we’re doing! This will absolutely end badly! Ready, let’s go!

And meanwhile of course the X-Men were like oh hey, Sinister is kidnapping innocent mutants again, we need to find them and also spank him. Okay not that last part but I’m just saying, I’ve always felt like they could stand to put a little more effort into just like....plain old murdering the dude. C’mon Logan, what are you even doing, you pat yourself on the back for being the best at that like ALL the time.

Anyway, yeah, the kids the author created just for this storyline were really fun. I remember the youngest of them and most gung ho about being a mutant and wanting to be a superhero team and always trying to convince the others they should do that, she was a black girl who was a couple years younger than the rest, I think a freshman while the others were all juniors and seniors. I can’t remember her real name, because she was always insisting the others call her by the codename she’d come up with, Charade. Her power was she could convince anyone that whatever she was saying was true. Like anything from ‘you don’t want to hurt me’ to a bad guy or ‘you didn’t see me here’ to boosting one of her friend’s powers by telling them they could totally do the thing they were trying to do even though they’d never tried anything like it before. 

And she was closest with the oldest of the group whose name I also can’t remember, but who was this tall awkward white guy who she’d basically adopted as her surrogate big brother and he just kinda shrugged and went okay, and was super protective of her, it was way cute. He had some kind of basic super strength and enhanced senses power, and could never settle on a code name and tried a bunch of different ones throughout the book until finally settling on Red Rover, which one of the others called him as a joke and he was just like yeah I know, but I kinda like it.

And they were two of the three that were kidnapped, with the other one being Slapshot, the one who found the rest of them and kinda always defaulted to being the leader even though he was this shy nerd in school and always getting down on himself and the remaining two of the five were way more popular than him. I think his name was Jason, and he was this short Asian kid who was really into hockey for some reason, and that’s why he picked Slapshot for his codename. He was convinced he had a lame power, like all he did was change the trajectory of things that were already in motion. But when the three of them were locked up and didn’t know what had happened to the other two or if anyone was coming to rescue them, he figured out how to bust them out when he realized they thought his power was too small to bother making sure he couldn’t use it. So he took a quarter he had in his pocket and threw it, and started reversing its trajectory in mid air back and forth, over and over until the constant change in direction was like, building momentum, so when he finally let it go it just punched straight through the door lock like a bullet. He was very proud to discover he was secretly a dormant badass and it gave him a total self-esteem boost. Also way adorbs.

And the other two of the group, the ones who got away initially were both white seniors and one of them, Peyton, was a cheerleader and she called herself Rewind, and the other Adam was the quarterback and called himself Pipedream. His power was to just project this dream state on people so whatever they were doing, they just stopped and stood there and were stuck in some lucid daydream for a few minutes, though he couldn’t control what they saw, just initiate it. 

And everyone was always constantly looking at him to know what to do because he was supposed to be the popular football captain and have all the answers and he’d get all frustrated like ‘how does any of that make me qualified to know what to do here’ and Rewind was on the verge of a breakdown and screamed back ‘well fine if you dont want to help I’ll just save them myself’ and he was all ‘I didnt say I dont want to help, I just dont have a clue what that looks like!’ and she was like ‘FINE, I guess I’ll just figure it out myself and you just come along and do what I say” and Adam was all “Yes, finally! That’s what I’ve been saying, that is a much better idea than me being clueless and in charge, god!” And then this was where usually they’d realize they have Feelings for each other but haha no, they were actually just awkward road trip buddies and when they eventually found the others breaking out as they were breaking in and were like oh hey, we were just coming to rescue you, Slapshot was like oh yeah, sorry, you took too long so we kinda just did it ourselves. 

And Rewind was very impressed in his newfound leader-ness which Adam was more than happy to also concede to him when Jason was worried he was gonna want to be in charge now, and so she was basically like, okay, new plan. I’m still gonna be Prom Queen, because duh, but now you will be my Prom King. Everyone on board? Excellent. Let’s blow this popsicle stand. Which they did, mostly via Peyton’s power, which was to rewind time in her area, but like, nothing longer than thirty seconds back, just enough for her to correct recent mistakes. 

But then she found out it also worked if she told everyone to stand back with a scary gleam in her eye that had Adam and Jason like ‘we feel that whatever you’re about to do, you should probably....not’ and she was like, ‘are you going to stop me?’ and because they were not dumb they were both like ‘no ma’am!’ And then she hopped in one of the golf cart kinda things the security guards in the place used to drive around, revved the engine, Adam whispered ‘hold me, I’m scared’ because she drove the whole way there and they almost died like twenty times a minute. Who knew the girl with the ‘its fine, I can fix it’ power had a tendency to be reckless, right? But she just like floored the golf cart and drove straight at the big giant locked doors blocking their exit and they were all “PEYTON NO!” and she was all “PEYTON YES!” and crashed right into the doors, denting them a little and like, totaling the golf cart. Except then she rewound time but just around the golf cart and not the doors, so they were still just as dented while the golf cart was good as new and ten feet away again as she barreled into the doors all over again with “PEYTON YES” (well, whatever she was actually screaming, I forget, it was 25 years ago) playing over and over again on a loop as she kept crashing into the doors, rewinding time to fix the cart and crashing into them over and over with them getting a little more busted each time until finally she busted all the way through them.

And Slapshot was like “How did you know that would work?” and she was like “Huh? Oh, I didn’t.” and he was like “Holy shit, marry me” and Peyton was all lol slow down, you’re cute but I have a Life Plan, that’s not happening til we’re at least 25.

Anyway, yeah, the Ohio Mutant Conspiracy were adorable and honestly some of the best X-characters ever and its a shame they never made it into the pages of an actual comic as X-Men students. Oh, also, that book had a female clone of Wolverine called Mantrap who was hunting Sinister for Reasons also, but not like a clone clone, obviously, as she was also Native American, I think? But clone-ish. There was a kinship. This was pre X-23 and might have been part of the inspiration for her, who knows.

But yeah. I lost that book years ago and could never find it anywhere, lame. It was def my fave of the X-Men novels though there were a couple other good ones too. 

[yueqqi]

Lost Requiem - Chapter 1

Summary: A man from New York seeks a new life after a terrible mistake that locked him in eight years of imprisonment, only for him to be greeted again by the gates of Hell.

A/N: Since I’m a broke-ass tryna get by as a computer science student juggling a part time job, I can’t donate to the Kickstarter. BUT, I’m going to try and help with the social media goals as per the RE:H Kickstarter page, so I guess here’s a new fic serial.

New York City, New York, August 2nd, 1995

Pain exploded like a spilt pot of hot chowder against his cheek. He stumbled back, barely catching himself against the table where other inmates had long abandoned since the fight broke out.

A chant. “Oh, fuck! Fight, fight, fight!”

Another fist swung out, tattooed with gentle black strokes forming lilies, and he ducked before it could connect with his face again. With a grunt, he threw all of his weight forward and latched onto the taller man’s waist.

The other man swayed from the sudden force. Success?

He found himself winded with the sudden loss of altitude as he was slammed into the hard, cold floor with a massive block of muscle on top of him.

A disappointed voice yelled into his ear, “Dammit, you weak-ass lawyer boy! I woulda thought you get better at this shit after eight years!”

He snapped, “Maybe I woulda if I got a degree in sumo wrestling like your dumbass self, Brandt.”

The weight lifted from his back, and a fresh breath of air entered his lungs. The man sat up, reaching a hand up to test the swelling that rose on his cheek. He let out a hiss.

“Yo, ‘zekiel, sorry ‘bout that bruise,” the same gruff voice apologized. A large hand offered itself for him to take. As he took the hand, the crowd of people dispersed as everyone returned to their lunches.

“Thanks. And it’s not much of a problem.”

Brandt was a tall, buff man with a shaved head at least five inches taller than Ezekiel’s six feet. A terrifying man with a terrifying stature and a terrifying gaze, he was the most feared inmate at the Lincoln Correctional Facility. Like Ezekiel, he wasn’t in prison for the right reasons.

In fact, most of them weren’t in prison for the right reasons.

If Ezekiel could legally take a look at every inmate’s profiles, he was sure they’d all have the same background. A poor kid of a minority, born and raised in the ghetto part of town. Could be the Bronx, like him, or other areas in lower-town Manhattan, or immigrated from an even poorer town outside the States ridden with war, drugs, and grime. A family of a single parent and a couple kids; sometimes both parents were in the picture, but rarely could they climb above the vice of poverty because of the poor pay and the cost of surviving.

Like him, they were caught in the wrong place at the wrong time—that, or they were forced into the life of crime just to feed their families.

Like Karael.

Brandt’s boisterous voice interrupted his thoughts, “So, how’s it feelin’, bein’ the nasty dealer finally gettin’ out today?”

A chuckle escaped his lips. “Eight years late, but I can’t complain; coulda been a full twenty-five. It’s just about damn time.”

Ezekiel was grateful, though the taste of ashes still lingered on his tongue at the thought of it; just eight months ago, his case was appealed to the judge again, and it was by a stroke of luck that the first judge who gave him a sentencing had been transferred to another court so he had a chance, however slim, to crawl out of this hellhole. After weeks of looking over the court transcriptions from his case file, the new judge was sympathetic enough to see that an all-white jury plus the original judge’s spoken words all led to an unfavorable outcome: as Ezekiel figured, bias outweighed the evidence supporting his case in the end.

A simple, formal apology was made and the judge gave the prison’s executive director the order for his release; of course, the paperwork was an “issue” and his release was postponed for eight months. Seven years turned to eight, and both Ezekiel’s and his family’s patience was wearing thin until finally: the long-awaited release date.

Still, an apology wasn’t much compensation for the stolen eight years, nor was his quiet release later in the day in which he silently bid the others farewell and only hoped that they would stumble upon luck as he did.

The dusty silver sedan waited for him the second he stepped into broad daylight in fresh clothes: a pair of jeans, a white cotton shirt, and a cheap, black zipped hoodie. He didn’t know what happened to the leather motorcycle jacket he wore when he was arrested, but as much as his heart ached for it, it was a remnant of the past he had to leave behind.

A young woman no more than twenty-five with her once curly hair braided in cornrows long ago now straightened and shoulder-length stood leaning against the car hood in a pinstriped button-up shirt with navy trousers, the passenger door left open as an older woman in her late forties sat in the seat in a familiar sweater and pants. Upon hearing the barbed wire fence buzz as the prison guard opened it for Ezekiel, both women looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, the same viridescent as his own.

The younger of the two bounded up to him with wide strides—Ezekiel didn’t remember her being this tall—and embraced him tightly with a tearful eyes. She whispered, “Welcome home, Ezekiel.”

He laughed, reaching up a hand to ruffle her hair. “Easy there, Duma, we ain’t home quite just yet. You’re not so short anymore—ouch!”

Duma punched him in the arm none-too-lightly, but grabbed him by the hand to pull him to the sedan. The older woman, Hasielle, grinned at the two as she stood, latching onto the car to balance herself so she didn’t sway, and waited for Ezekiel to approach before she pulled him in for a hug.

Ezekiel smiled warmly as he wrapped his arms around the shorter woman. He greeted softly, “Hey, Ma.”

Hasielle pulled back for just to moment to reach up and pat Ezekiel’s cheek, where the bruise had already formed from earlier. Eyebrows knitted together, she said, “They haven’t been treatin’ you nicely here, huh? You need to eat more too, you’ve gotten so skinny!”

“Well, I’m always lookin’ forward to your chicken and rice; I’ll even help cook.”

Hasielle smirked, “Well, I’m supposin’ you need practice after awhile. Let’s make it a competition tonight. You in, Duma?”

His sister paled at the mention of cooking. “You want me to burn down the house?”

“Chemistry, cookin’, all the same thing, aren’t they?” Ezekiel challenged, eyebrow raised.

“It’s chemical engineering, Ezekiel. And I’m not doing anything with cooking for the program I’m in, anyways. I’d burn the whole city down on accident!”

“Well, you better find someone who can cook for you, Duma,” Ezekiel chuckled. Duma’s cheeks reddened.

“Shut up, you.”

Their mother’s eyebrows rose, “My, my! Has my daughter found someone?”

“No, Ma! Not yet! The next person I’m gettin’ married to is science herself.”

Amidst the warm laughter, a hollow ache still pervaded a part in his chest. Once, they were a family of five, then four when he turned seven many years ago. And again, one was missing.

They all stepped into the car; Duma was driving since Ezekiel needed to reapply for a driver’s license and Hasielle’s condition had worsened over the years: after years of fighting through her anemia to juggle three jobs to support the three of her children, she finally took a break from working once Duma was able to help support them both after getting through college at MIT on a scholarship.

Once the chuckles died down and Duma turned down the road toward the city graveyard, Hasielle glanced in the side mirror at Ezekiel, where he sat in the back, and commented, “Hon, your hair’s so short.”

“Is it?” Ezekiel reached up to rub at his head, feeling the prickliness of his cropped curly hair between his fingers. He supposed it was a lot shorter compared to how he kept it years ago, but he had gotten used to his hair being this length.

“I miss your old hair, but I’ve been seein’ them old-style movies, like Victorian-era and older. Just a thought, but maybe you should try growin’ out your hair longer. I remember you tellin’ me awhile ago in a letter that you’re workin’ on a novel as a new start to your life, so maybe gettin’ a new start in style might help too.”

A new start, huh? A new life… Sounds nice.

“Maybe I will.”

The car pulled into a parking space at the mausoleum some miles away. In spite of the sun that beat down on them, the place still seemed awfully dim and quiet—as expected, Ezekiel supposed, yet it was unsettling not unlike the prison at night.

As Duma pulled out the wheelchair from the trunk of the car for Hasielle, Hasielle spoke, “Ezekiel, Duma and I are goin’ to see Pops in the yard. Why don’t you go on ahead to the mausoleum first and we’ll see you soon?”

He was speechless for a moment, before given his mother a quiet nod. Ezekiel left the two and walked in long, slow strides toward the large, Grecian-style mausoleum, steps ginger and uncertain. The place was eerily quiet when he entered, the door shutting silently behind him, though the sunlight filtering through the skylights and brightening the marble floors created some imitation of a welcoming aura. To his left was a small alcove with a sign hanging above it, Flowers.

Ezekiel shuffled into the small shop, where a short old woman waved at him from behind the counter. He smiled, a bit stiff, and waved back before he turned to observe the array of flowers sprawled through the expanse of the shop.

He had no idea what to buy for his brother. In fact, he didn’t even know if his brother ever liked flowers—they were never that close especially during their last few years spent together before Ezekiel ended up behind bars.

In the end, Ezekiel settled for white lilies and baby’s breath. White for purity, but also white for a blank sheet, for possibilities. Paying for the flowers, he left the shop and ducked into the nearest corridoer while keeping an eye out for the signs designating alphabetical order.

Q-T. Thomas. Timmison. Torvald.

Travis.

A framed photo of a young man with a smiling face, a mustache forming on his upper lip, stared back with similar verdant, yet faintly honey-colored eyes at Ezekiel. Ezekiel let out a soft breath as he placed the flowers in the vase attached by iron-wrought wire to the wall beside the box of ashes set into the marble wall, engraved in a delicate font.

Karael Travis, December 22nd, 1969-February 17th, 1991

Loving son and brother who always did his best

A whisper, deafening in the echoing silence, “Long time, no see, you poor bastard. Just what did you get yourself into when I couldn’t be there to catch your fall?”

#this next chapter will be covering the events over the next year up til the intro to re:h #red embrace: hollywood #re:hollywood #killhollywood #vampires #fanfic #my writing

[thebachelordiaries]

Jocks And Finance Bros: Bachelorette First Impressions

Becca, I hope you like jocks and finance bros. 

If not, you’re shit out of luck.

Becca dates one athlete and they beat that one dating preference of her’s to death by casting 18 or so former athletes. Kind of like how they beat “Let’s Do The Damn Thing” tagline to death.

I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am.

A letter to the men on this season of The Bachelorette:

Do you think you deserve this goddess of a woman, Becca Kufrin? You probably don’t. You probably think too highly of yourself to know this.

Maybe two of you will be good enough for her. Five of you may turn out to be decent people, but that’s me being generous. If it’s anything like JoJo’s season, we will have just one or two decent men. ABC producers, please don’t let me down. Oh wait, you already did with the super-short bios. 

This season we have 25 28 men vying for Becca’s heart, or at least a blue checkmark on their Instagram page. At least one of you will get fake engaged on Paradise and six of you will move from middle-of-nowhere USA to Los Angeles and move back home within a year. I’m not sure which guys will do that yet, but it’s always fun to guess!

Anyway, good luck with your 15 minutes of fame!

Signed,

The Bachelor Diaries.

WTF: No Q&A?

ABC did not include the usual Q&A in this year’s cast bios. I’m so offended. How will I truly understand these men if I don’t know what kind of fruit they’d be or what kind of superpower they’d want?

I would boycott this season because of this, but I have literally nothing better to do on Monday nights, or any night for that matter. I’m still going to try my best to roast these men, of course. It shouldn’t be that hard.

Despite no Q&A’s, I will still form my own opinions on these guys. I, like Kanye West, am a free thinker. Go poopidy-scoop yourself, ABC.

Ok, now let’s get to know these men:

Alex, 31, Construction Manager

Alex is the male equivalent of the basic white girl. He likes country music, his dog, the beach and skiing. He probably has “Let’s go on a hike together!” on his Bumble profile and regularly wears a Patagonia dad hat.

Blake, 28, Sales Rep

We already met horse boy Blake on After The Final Rose. He either played baseball or football in college. Thanks for being so concise, ABC. However, he looks like a baseball player to me. While originally from a small town in Colorado, he definitley lives in LA now. He also believes “two people need to be independent in order to truly love each other” so I think that means he’s into open relationships and or will cheat on you.

Chase, 27, Advertising VP

Chase, unlike Blake, was definitley a college baseball player who was apparently good enough to be in the College Wold Series but evidently not good enough to go pro— at least longterm. We also met Chase on ATFR and I don’t remember much about him. He likes “adventure” and the “outdoors” so he’s quite the special snowflake.

Chris, 30, Sales Trainer

What even is a sales trainer? Chris hopes to retire by 40. In this economy? Good luck with that. He is passionate about “fitness” and “health” which is so unique and different. I feel like I really got to know him through that piece of information.

Christian, 28, Banker

Christian is a former semi-pro soccer player who moved to the US from Mexico when he was three. I feel like his picture makes him look like he has a little head, but other than that he seems alright.

Christon, 31, Former Harlem Globetrotter/ Professional Dunker

I spent a good 30 seconds wondering why two guys with the same name didn’t have their last name initials included in their bios. It took another 30 seconds to notice that Christon was spelled differently than Christian. So this dude is a professional dunker in LA. My first thought is that he’d have a pretty good intro video package for The Bachelorette. Anyone want to put money down that he gets one?

Clay, 30, Pro Football Player

Clay was on his way to the poetry slam but somehow got lost and ended up on the Bachelorette. He allegedly doesn’t curse but is a fan of hip-hop music. I think he is the “famous” football player who was in talks to be on this season. Apparently I should care. Never heard of him. 

Colton, 26, Former Pro Football Player

“Hi, my name is Colt and welcome to my Youtube Channel!” That’s the vibe I’m getting from this picture. I’m also getting Blake Griffin vibes. He just looks strangely tan here. Colton may have a job at the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation. I’m curious to know if he has a story as to WHY he is involved with CF. He also lives in Denver and has a dog named Sniper, which is awkward because the neighboring city of Boulder just banned assault weapons.

EDIT: He was the guy who asked out Aly Raisman via public video and they briefly dated. I shipped them so hard. I AM SHOOKETH.

Connor, 25, Fitness Coach

I feel like I’m going to be sick if I hear one more guy talk about how they were “almost” a professional athlete and how much they lo0o0o0ove working out. I’m sadly only at the beginning of this cast list. Someone pray for me. And someone pray that Connor’s eyebrows grow back after that terrible wax job.

Darius, 26, Pharmaceutical Sales Rep

Darius works for big pharma yet claims to be dedicating his life to helping others. Err, okay. He likes to dance and travels a lot so my guess is he’s probably not ready to settle down at age 26 despite his 36-year-old hairline.

David, 25, Venture Capitalist

David looks like every finance bro who lives in West Village and only dates 22-year-old Instagram models. The only difference is that he lives in Denver instead of Manhattan, which by society’s standards makes him more wholesome. He also loves guacamole, but dislikes avocado, which roughly translates to: I don’t cook and eat Chipotle for dinner every night.

Grant, 27, Electrician

The only way Grant is making it past night one is if he shows up fully dressed as a member of the Village People or as Bob The Builder. If not, he has no chance.

Garrett, 29, Medical Sales Rep

Pro tip to ABC: The letter A comes before the letter R in the alphabet. These names are out of order. 

Anyway, Garret reminds me of Ben Afleck in that his face just makes me want to punch him..in the face. Besides the fact that he also works for big pharma, he actually has outdoor hobbies besides “I enjoy fresh air and walking in the woods” like fly fishing and showshoeing. I’m hoping he isn’t a giant jerk because I kind of like him.

Jake, 29, Marketing Consultant

I thought his name was “Joke” at first because I am a terrible person. I think Joke...I mean Jake...is from the same city as Becca. (I’m assuming Minnesota only has one city) I feel like all hot people in cities have this inner-circle where they know of each other, so maybe they’ve crossed paths before.

Jason, 29, Sr. Corporate Banker

Andrew Keegan? I love your work. “Jason” likes sports and singing along to Disney movies. He contains multitudes. 

Jean Blanc, 31, Colognoisseur

I love that ABC took a smart, educated, immigrant with a successful job and gave him a fake occupation on television. Jean Blanc is a cologne connoisseur. I feel like he would smell good. 10/10 would smell him.

Joe, 31, Grocery Store Owner

I feel like a lot of these bios are the equivalent to what it’s like to drive in an Uber. The driver is always explaining to you how successful they are and where they traveled as a way to prove they aren’t some loser driving you around. Joe’s bio screams “Yeah I own a grocery store but also worked in finance before I burnt myself out, so don’t judge me.” Nobody was judging you, but now I am.

John, 28, Software Engineer

John hopes to be the first Asian male to make it out of night one on The Bachelorette. I can already tell he’s better than most of these guys: he works at a start-up in Silicon Valley, likes wine, plays guitar and bakes banana bread. He deserves a rose, dammit!

Jordan, 26, Male Model

Robert Mills, who is like an important ABC guy or something, called Jordan the “greatest Bachelorette contestant of all time.” Clearly he’s trying to make us forget about Chad. Good luck with that, Robert. Definitley not happening.

So Jordan is probably this season’s villain. Whatever, I don’t care. I DO care, however, that his bio is bragging about a mediocre 4:24 mile time and “sprinting to the finish line.” The time was written as “4.24″ by ABC and a comma is also missing from that sentence. ABC, let me know if you want to hire me as an editor. Back to the mile comment: A mile is an endurance mid-distance race. Nobody is technically sprinting in it, unless it’s a tactical race. Puns don’t work if they’re factually incorrect. 

Kamil, 30, Social Media Participant

Kamil works in real estate and is a part-time model, but ABC decided to call him a “social media participant.” He’s originally from Poland but lives in Upstate New York, which is evident based on the fact he’s wearing a denim button-up shirt.

Leo, 31, Stuntman

It’s crazy how fast Alex Bordy grew his hair in a year. “Not Alex Bordy” is a stuntman in LA, which I heard is a pretty sick job. I am personally a fan of his hair. He knows how to tame those curls and probably rocks a great man bun. I would love to know what products he uses.

Lincoln, 26, Account Executive

Lincoln has a lot of things going on in his bio. He moved to Boston from Nigeria as a teenager, went to college in Kentucky and moved to Santa Monica for work. We met him on ATFR and he was super nervous, cute and had an accent to make most girls swoon. I’d say make him The Bachelor but 26 is too young in my opinion.

Mike, 27, Sports Analyst

How come every Ohio sports fan names their dog Riggins? Based on his hair, I’m assuming Mike is a radio sports analyst. That hair on television? No thank you. Hopefully Leo can give him some tips to make his hair look decent. Did you know: Becca’s psycho ex Ross used to have long hair? It was not cute. But I don’t think Becca is going to send the long-haired guys home immediately a la the notoriously shallow Andi Dorfman.

Nick, 27, Attorney

I’m excited for Nick to be on the show because I know him by association. Let me explain: A friend of mine went to school with one of his friends and periodically stalks her social media. The friend is a girl, so I think he’s friends with mostly girls, which may explain why he loves to “brunch.” He looks terrible in this photo. Nick gives me polished, sexually ambiguous vibes based on how he appears on Insta. I also knew he was going to be on the show before R*ality St*ve, which made me feel powerful. It was a rush.

Rickey, 27, IT Consultant

I know of Rickey too. He was a Bodybuilding.com Spokesmodel Search finalist in 2017. Hashtag #rightreasons. I’m not sure how “online personal trainer” translates to IT consultant, but ok. Side note: I don’t think bodybuilders look good in suits so he might go home night one. 

Ryan, 26, Banjoist

Before the “Yanny or Laurel” debate there was the “Ryan or Brian” debate on After The Final Rose. Evidently the answer is Ryan. He’s the new Wells and I could not be more excited to watch this babe on my television screen. He plays at least four instruments and loves to sail. He also screams “family money” but it’s ok, we can mooch off his parents together.

Trent, 28, Realtor

Can you imagine having a child and naming it Trent? This guy never had a chance. He is a realtor and a part-time model (I swear I wrote the same thing a few contestants up) and has appeared on covers of romance novels, but I certainly wouldn’t call him the next Fabio.

Wills, 29, Graphic Designer

Wills is a graphic designer who loves Harry Potter. I see no problem here. Except for maybe his porno-stache.

Prediction corner: 

Welcome to the prediction corner where I never get anything right. Oh, you know what happens because you read spoilers? Please keep that information to yourself. I like to find out what happens on my own.

Without further ado, here are my baseless predictions:

First Impression Rose: The guys who got the First Impression Rose on the last three seasons became engaged to The Bachelorette. If that happens this year I demand a scientific case study to explain the power of first impressions on women. Anyway, I think Ryan gets it.

Season Villain: Jordan (that was easy)

Next Bachelor: Blake (don’t ask me why)

Winner: Garrett (I like him)

Comment below to let me know your early favorites!

#The Bachelorette #Becca Kufrin #abc #Arie Luyendyk #chris harrison #photo credit ABC

[jikook-joah]

My Jikook/Kookmin fic recs: JOAH!

So I finally decided to do a fic rec of my personal favourite jikook fan fictions, just see this as a Christmas present for y’all 

P.S. I will be writing my own little summaries because I want to share my opinion if you wanted to read the actual summary that would be too easy, simply click on the name of the fic! :)

Riptide by peppermint_wind 

I don’t know if I’ve recommended this fic enough...I’ve read this awhile ago now but it just felt like yesterday, ’ya know? Basically explores the dynamics of Jm and Jk’s relationship, the push and pull aspect is heart wrenching painfully so but I don’t regret a single thing. The building up and angst will leave you in tears but honestly it’s totally worth it every fucking bit. Also, it talks about homophobia and self acceptance, I honestly can’t express just how many fics avoid this because it’s really NOT an easy topic to talk about.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says quickly, putting out his hands in front of him. “I shouldn’t have—”

Jimin shakes his head quickly, takes Jungkook’s hands in his and pulls him back. He brings Jungkook’s palm up to his cheek. “You shouldn’t have…” Jimin says slowly, deliberately. “But I’m really glad you did.”

spoiler: first kisses/times are kinda awkward

Him by PinkBTS

Let’s see...god I remember first reading this and I was like holy that’s a lot of words for a one shot but oh my god was it worth it. Every single word, line sentence and paragraph I was blown away. I have never seen a boy so whipped in my life(ofc I’m referring to Jk) who is emotionally constipated and god dammit it just happens that I’m weak for photography major Jk and dance major Jm...can you see it now? So Beautiful. Literally. A Muse. Jimin is Jungkook’s fucking muse. In real life and in this fic too.

“Yeah,” confirmed Jimin. “You taught me how to use a camera, I’ll teach you how to use your body.”

“Oh, I know how to do that,” said Jeongguk wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and Jimin laughed pushing him slightly.

落花有意，流水无情；(I Wait.) by jeonify

One word: Intricate. I can’t express beautifully written this fic is, you know when a piece of writing’s so descriptive to the point where you’re literally just drawn into the AU itself. Like this fic made my heart shake/shatter/shimmer just Jm’s characterisation is so pure and Jk who could not me any more whipped in the most beautiful way...just saying the angst level is HIGH and you’ll probs come to hate Yoongi but also understand him and everything. Basically a happy ending okay.

“jimin, can i kiss you?”

“you can, but you may not.”

Don’t let the lower cases turn you off

Wander by pinkmonnie

Okay, so I’m like a sucker for detailed imagery and just how the author writes makes you really visualise incredible things. Everything is so simple yet so complex and I love it so much because Jk’s just trying to understand himself and what he wants, Jm is just someone there to help him and somehow love just blossoms in the most intricate yet graceful way possible...

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded. 

“I love your hot cocoa and the jam tarts you made for us today.”

“Mm,” Jimin smiled. “I’m glad you like them, Jungkook.”

“I love them, Jimin. I love all of your food.”

Jk we know you love Jm...just say it

You Got the Best of Me (Synth Riff) by mindheist

I haven’t read part one yet because I read this first and was blown away...Jikook are, ‘social media sweethearts,’ and if you loved GCF then you’ll def fall in love with this. It’s funny all at the right places and I enjoyed the little snippets of images here and there, it was heart warming and light so there’s no angst to be feared! At least from what I can remember... Basically, it’s Jikook’s anniversary and it looks like Jm can’t make it...

“I know. It’s okay. It’s really okay. I’ll send you photos.”

“You mean nudes, I hope.”

Falling for you again by Rose_gold715

Honestly what more can I say...I asked for it lol. This fic is angsty as shit, not even kidding...Jk has memory loss due to an accident and god dammit that boy’s mouth has no filter, I felt terribly sorry fi Jm but at the same time Jk’s character is relatable...and I couldn’t stop thinking about real life Jm and Jk and how almost how parallel they were in the story...

“So how did we…uh… get together?”

Jimin scratched his elbow and smiled faintly. “You asked me out.”

“I did?”

Mono No Aware by eumorious

Heart breaking. I’ve been struck because knowing Jimin and Jungkook were in a relationship so happy(those flashbacks) makes me really happy and sad at the same time. Basically years have passed after their breakup and they’re both successful now however working in the same company doesn’t make it easy and conflict is bound to arise as well as tension and jealousy ugh. 

“He’s my ex.” Jimin gives in, explaining vaguely. “Okay?”

Seokjin’s face scrunches up. “You were willing to give up your career for your ex boyfriend?”

“Ex husband.”

Woah, did shit just get real or what?

once upon a timeshare by namakemono

They break my heart again, of course Jm and Jk were in a relationship and they broke up, I just love these kinds of fics. Not healthy for the heart but honestly who cares at this point? Like just the tension between the two is almost over bearing at times but it also goes to show how deeply they were in love with each other...

It was like time had stopped right there in the airport. Jimin and Jungkook were frozen solid, just glaring at each other at a ten foot distance while the rest of their friends watched nervously.

“Did, um,” Hoseok began quietly, “did no one tell them that they were both coming?”

bonus: because ot7 is hilarious asf when together

time slip by namakemono

I’ve always been interested in time travel but wow because this fic just brought it to a whole new level...Just simply mesmerising...past and present Jm switch places and never have I felt so much pain for them both because the author really puts yourself in the protagonist’s shoes...I personally liked the storyline of past Jm in the future because I live for angst even though it hurts me to see how painful it is for Jk. I’m evil, I know

“Jungkook?”

The boy raised his eyebrows, staring at Jimin with a face that both was and wasn’t Jungkook’s. He was only fifteen, with features that his face hadn’t quite grown into yet and a constantly wide-eyed kind of innocence that could only come with youth, but the Jungkook in front of him was so…

Big.

Rubies for a King by TheHalesNyx

Um...but seriously I didn’t think I could laugh that much my whole life just reading two chapters of a modern day Prince(Jm) interacting with a dragon(Jk) who eats I quote more than “both of them combined...” Honestly if there’s one thing this fic taught me it’s that you should never stereotype a dragon well anyone at that. After reading this fic I realised how much I was missing out since I was really into the supernatural genre.

Jungkook nods slowly, his eyes dark. “Yes. Remember when I told you I didn’t come here to eat you?” Jimin freezes, nodding. “Well… you might have just changed my mind.”

“Is this your way of saying I look good, or do I need to run or something?”

I would pick favourite but I don’t have one haha plus there are plenty of fics out there I have yet to read so...feel free to send in your recommendations too! Hope y’all have a Merry Christmas and maybe this fic rec list contributed to that little bit of happiness to your day. :) Anyway, peace out guys! ~

#sorry it ended up being so short #I'm a very picky reader plus I have a bad memory #probs missed a whole bunch #also should I do an abo rec list cause I purposely skipped them here #there's quite a few lol #jikook #kookmin #fic rec #fanfiction #ao3 #I love my talented family #kudos to all

[lattetimes]

Latte Talks About: Y//O//I

okay, fuck it, let’s go.

for context, i use to be a fan of the show in the beginning. i thought it was kind of interesting, and the main character being in his 20′s and coping with constant anxiety was something i can 100% relate to! that being said, i have a shitton of issues with the show and the fanbase itself by extension. 

i’m gonna put all this under a readmore and separate this by categories. before that, i’m gonna start off with a quick summary of what Y/O//I is (for anyone that’s kinda curious and have 0 idea wtf this anime even is about). i tried to keep everything as brief as possible so it won’t be too much to read through, but i have a lot to say about this entire anime that i didn’t get to say last year, soooo.

PROLOGUE: WHAT IS “ YOI ” ?

if you already know what YOI is, you can skip right over this and jump right into PART ONE. 

ok, so. Yuri!!! on ICE (a.k.a. YOI) is a sports anime series that was produced by MAPPA, directed by Sayo Yamamoto and was written by Mitsurō Kubo. it ran from October 6, 2016 – December 22, 2016, with 12 episodes under its belt for one season and talks of a possible second season. 

the story goes that 23-year old (turns 24 in episode 9) Yuuri Katsuki is Japan’s top figure skater and he fucks the fuck up at the last Grand Prix Final (GPF) he participated in. he decides that he might as well put this career on hold or just quit altogether. while he’s chillin’ back at home (which is a hotel-bath house, keep that in mind for a lil’ bit), he recreates an advanced performance done by his idol Victor Nikiforov during that same GPF (Viktor was in first place, Yuuri was dead last). 

well, this performance was secretly recorded by his friends’ triplet daughters and put up on YouTube, getting the attention of Victor and prompting Victor to stop skating for an entire season to coach Yuuri (much to the dismay of Victor’s coach, Yakov). this event sets off Yuri “Yurio” Plisetsky, a 15-year old skating protege that worked with Victor closely and was promised Victor’s help years ago.

the two compete for who gets to be coached by Victor in this season and Yuuri beats Yurio, leading to the rivalry between the two and Yurio returning to Russia without Victor. the anime goes through the entire skating season revolving around these three characters- along with a revolving door of side characters in order to keep the competitions interesting- going through physical and even mental obstacles to kick their opponents’ asses. 

...and this is where my issues with the anime starts.

PART ONE: THE STORY IS AWKWARD

i have a lot of issues with this anime. a lot. 

for one thing, the entire story hinges on this one accidental night that was revealed in episode 10 after Victor and Yuuri trade matching golden rings: Yuuri got hella wasted after his fuckup in the GPF, and basically gave Victor the time of his life. they danced, and Victor had fallen hard for drunk-off-his-ass Yuuri. (pole dancing was also somehow involved. don’t ask me how.)

Yuuri forgot the entire night, presumably because he dropped off the face of the earth in social media. my main issue with that is how was this never brought up again with any of the other characters?! how was Yuuri completely unaware of this happening?!

Yuuri’s friend, Phichit, being unaware of it makes a little bit of sense due to his absence during that GPF. but not Yuuri? there was a small segment in the first episode that shows that he had his phone notifications off for a long period of time after he recreated Victor’s routine. 

but, i still find that to be a bit too convenient. and after he’s back into skating how did no one else mention this? i know Chris, Victor and Mickey alluded to it at separate points and that makes sense- it’s a good way to get the shock of what episode 10 dropped on us to be even better.

...but no one’s bothered to straight-up mention, “hey, Yuuri, remember when you spun on a fucking pole and beat a 14-year old in a break dance competition? yeah, what the fuck was up?”

my main issue with the entire story would be the ending, so...

PART TWO: THE ENDING KINDA WAS MEH IMO

the end of the series has Yuuri coming in second place (a huge improvement from the last year) and Yurio in first place in his first senior-division GPF. oh, also JJ gets in third place somehow, but we’ll get back to that in a second. 

now, i get why they made Yuuri get second place since he promised to quit skating competitively once he wins gold and to also “allow” Victor to go back to skating (there’s a huge internal conflict with Yuuri since a lot of people assumed Yuuri “stole” Victor from competing). what could’ve happened instead of Yuuri getting second is the following:

Yuuri wins gold, and he either stays in the competing world as a competitor for another year because he gained his love for the sport back and wants to go for one more year. or, he decides to teach Minami (an upcoming Japanese skater that greatly admires Yuuri). this would help create a new dynamic with Yuuri and Victor (if Victor coaches Yurio if Yuuri starts coaching), along with introducing Yurio to a new competitor for the next skating season. 

Victor stays as a coach, for either Yuuri or Yurio (since Yuuri does move in with Victor after this GPF). he really enjoys coaching people, and learns how to improve his coaching skills with extra help from Yakov. 

Yurio comes in second. he’s devastated at first, and he’s disappointed in himself. but then he remembers: he’s only 15. and he got second place in his first senior division GPF. and that itself is fucking incredible. 

JJ gets dead last. after an incredible season of completely crushing all of the other competitors and even showin’ Yuuri up by perfectly executing Victor’s signature move (that Yuuri struggled to replicate), he fucked up. he messed up both his skate routines. with the promise he had made is fiance, Isabella, that winning gold means they’ll get married and he fucks it all up. but, Isabella is still with him after he fucks up; his parents- that are also his coaches- still support him; the crowds still chant for King JJ! the king may have fallen, but he’s not gonna give it up. and he becomes stronger from that!

give Phichit or Chris bronze, dammit.

PART THREE: THE CHARACTERS THEMSELVES ARE MEH AS HELL TOO, NGL

so the character design was handled by Tadashi Hiramatsu, working off of Kubo’s original sketches of how the designs would look. and overall, i think the designs are alright. they don’t stem too far from reality (with a few exceptions, because this is a fuckin’ sports anime so fuck it!). 

i’m only gonna specify a few characters, because tbh almost all the characters are very flat or not interesting. if they didn’t have nice designs  or hella bomb music for their routines i wouldn’t even give a flying fuck about them. but they have that goin’ for them, i guess.

Yurio Plisetksy

oh, we’re gonna get back to this character don’t worry. 

Seung-gil Lee

i personally don’t have much to say about Seung-gil, but the issue of racism against this character was brought up multiple times while the show was airing. 

Seung-gil is a South Korean skater that competes against Yuuri once, and was unable to make the cut. the issue with this character is that he’s rude to a lady skater that seems to have taken some interest in him (and she was being polite and sweet to him) by ignoring her calls and outright saying he has no interest in being her friend. he also is calculating his scores as he’s performing.

Otabek Altin and JJ

god, i wish Otabek was introduced earlier ‘cause he probably would’ve been a much better character. his entire existence was basically just to contrast Yurio, and not in the way JJ does with Yuuri.

Otabek is a large and powerful masculine man, while Yurio is constantly called the “Russian ice fairy” due to his more feminine appearance (which was stated in the anime). and Otabek admires Yurio’s grace while Yurio admires his strength.  but, other than that, Otabek is basically only a prop for Yurio. his entire character revolves around Yurio, and that’s it. you can’t really talk about Otabek at all without even mentioning Yurio.

with JJ, he’s got his own character arc goin’ for him. he’s always been at the top, he’s incredibly skilled and everyone fucking bows for King JJ. fuck, he has an entire song called Theme of King JJ! and this contrasts amazingly with Yuuri!

whereas Yuuri is constantly questioning his self-worth and skill, JJ owns that shit. but with Otabek and Yurio, it falls flat, and in the next section i’m gonna delve into the character of Otabek a bit more.

Makkachin

the dog is objectively the best character and no one can say otherwise.

PART FOUR: YURIO IN GENERAL TBH

honest to god, i think Yurio was the character that was hardest for me to get use to. 

and i’m just gonna start right off with my biggest issue here: Yurio was incredibly sexualized. and not in the way that would be Yurio owning his sexuality.

nope, Yurio’s performance for his exhibition skate Welcome to the Madness was very... uncomfortable to sit through. his performance was like this:

(CREDIT FOR THIS GIF)

there is absolutely NO FUCKING REASON to show off one of the youngest characters in this show in this way. there’s ZERO REASON FOR THIS BOY’S SHIRT TO RIDE UP LIKE THIS, OR FOR HIM TO REPLICATE THIS SPECIFIC ICE SKATING MOVE. you want one of your characters to perform that kind of move as a homage to Stéphane Lambiel? HAVE YUURI DO IT- HE WAS THE ONE THAT SKATED TO EROS- A LITERAL SKATING ROUTINE ABOUT PASSION AND LOVE-MAKING AND ALL THAT JAZZ.

yeah, Yurio was the one that wanted to go for that spicier routine (basically personifying lust) over Agape (personifying wholesome love), and you can argue that having Yurio do shit like this was for the character to show everyone that he has control over his own sexuality, but that isn’t the case.  having his arc be about how he’s coming to terms with his sexuality or how he feels pressured into being more sexual while still being a minor- leading to him being uncomfortable and having a new friend step in and say “hey you do wtf you wanna do” would’ve made this shitshow better. 

no, the creator made this routine in order to get more sales (which duh), and to garner more interest from the side of the fanbase that wants to see Yurio get together with Otabek by throwing him in the routine.

Otabek’s part in the routine was only for a decoration, like icing on the cake for Yurio’s performance! he was only there so they could upstage Yuuri and Victor’s duet!

this isn’t a character taking charge of his sexuality or even an arc about how figure skaters. no, they only had Yurio doing this performance because a lot of people wanted to see Yurio and Otabek end up together (which is something I’ve already stated i have a few issues with). 

a really good way they could’ve taken Yurio’s arc was to show him being pressured by the adults in his life into having to sexualize himself, and constantly showing Yurio being uncomfortable with this. he just wants to skate his own way, but then the fear of the judges and other competitors looking down on him because he’s the youngest competitor in this year’s GPF (everyone’s in their 20′s, minus JJ who is 19) he falls into a state of depression because he’s not doing things on his own terms. have Yurio combating with this inner struggle and have him overcome it by saying, “hey fuck you, stop staring at me like this.” have Otabek back him up- have Otabek (who is 18) be someone that isn’t confident with himself and have him be the one that tells Yurio, “hey, this is hella gross, are you even okay with any of this?”

or, y’know, don’t sexualize kids just for money, just sayin’, that’s a better option.

another issue i’ve seen with Yurio is that he’s fucking everywhere. 

yes, Yurio is a main character and i get that he’s gonna get a shit ton more merch than Georgi or Leo, but he’s overshadow the other two main characters. and honestly, i’m sick of seeing him. it’s upsetting, but true. i’m sick of that character entirely. 

PART FIVE: THE ANIMATION REALLY ISN’T GOOD

so, another issue i have is that the animation really isn’t jaw-dropping. 

the only time i was fucking impressed by the animation was episode one, showing off Victor’s performance of Stammi Vicino! 

the show’s animation was subpar at best, and it wasn’t anything revolutionary or stellar at all. it was very flat and static, and even the ice skating routines were boring in that regard. there’s barely any real effort that is put into the animation of the anime, and it’s a real let-down!

y’know what anime had crazy-good animations? Mob Psycho 100.

this character is just talking to people, and he’s incredibly animated and overall interesting to watch!

this show has very interesting use of squash and stretch when it comes to making characters emote. even the smallest of expressions are easily magnified due to the solid execution by the animation team at Studio Bones!

YOI could’ve better attempted at doing this with at least the skating routines, and the bare minimum with the main three characters. it would’ve made the anime a lot more engaging instead of having everything be so damn static or consist of shot reverse-shots. having more interesting angles in the show would also help with the expression of feelings, as this show is very heavy on emotional weight when it comes to Yuuri and Yurio’s struggles to compete against the other.

and i’m so not upset about MP 100 losing to YOI in the Crunchyroll anime awards because it was totes not biased. which, by the way...

PART SIX: THE FANBASE ITSELF (OH BOY)

these are a few examples of the issue i take with the fanbase. for this section, i’m going to list off what problems i have with the fanbase, and why i now have the entire YOI tagged blacklisted.

Victor and Yuuri’s relationship (homophobia!!): this is one of the biggest reasons why i don’t associate with the fanbase anymore. the fanbase constantly takes this couple and tries to add toxic “relationship problems” to them. this includes (but is not limited to):

threatening to divorce each other

doting “wife” Yuuri

“playboy” Victor

Yurio’s “constant disgust” with the two being happy together (Yurio seeing “sin” if the two so much as cuddle with each other)

basically calling two men that are together “a dirty sinful ship”

“Victor is the man of the relationship” “no, Yuuri is” (basically the application of heterosexual standards onto a gay pairing, and having a “power struggle” with them instead of them being happy together)

fanfics (which i will make a separate part for)

Yurio’s sexualization (OtaYuri): i’ve went well into depth about this, but there’s another point i would live to bring up. there are actual minors that don’t want to see Yurio in a sexual way because they’re around the same age as him and don’t like the idea of having people having sexual fantasies about a teenager. that thought genuinely makes them uncomfortable. well, the side of the fanbase that ships OtaYuri (the ship name) will go well out of their way in order to make them uncomfortable. some OtaYuri shippers join anti-OtaYuri discord servers or skype groups, and then spam them with OtaYuri content until they’re permanently banned from the chats. 

Killing Stalking (also referred to as “KS”): i already can’t stand the fucking online series called Killing Stalking, and it’s horrid to sit through. the fanbase of KS already has a fucked up vision of shipping the two main men- one of them being a homophobic serial killer that breaks the other guy’s legs in order to keep him trapped in his home and another his obsessive stalker that broke into his house. and the Yuri!!! on ICE fanbase flocked right into that the second the anime ended, and decided it was okay to take Victuuri (the ship name of Victor and Yuuri), and try to come up with their fucked up headcannons and AU’s with KS.

The YOI Fanfics: okay. this is honestly a huge part of why i’m very cautious of interacting with YOI fans. there’s a multitude of fanfics that incorporate homophobic, non-consensual aspects into their writing just so people can get their rocks off to it. and that really bugs me. i’m going to talk about the kinds of fanfics that really seem to bug me the most. WARNIING: this is NSFW-related, since that’s the most kind of fanfic i’ve seen of them. 

Alpha/Omega/Beta Fics: this category for fanfictions involves an AU where occasionally characters will go “into heat” and have the uncontrollable need to breed with either their partner or anyone nearby. and usually it’s the “uncontrollable, lusty, submissive Omega” (which is commonly Yuuri) that needs their “dominating and powerful Alpha” (usually Victor) to give into desires and screw. a lot. now, this is wrong for a coupe of reasons: it portrays these gay men as people that cannot control their desires at all; this isn’t always consensual sex at first; there’s always a focus on a power dynamic between the two+ characters involved due to being “presented” as an Alpha, Omega, or Beta. 

THE POSITIVES: YES, THERE’S A FEW POSITIVES I SAW

its music was composed by Taro Umebayashi and Taku Matsushiba, and they did a fucking great job workin’ with the music. On Love: EROS will remain as my favorite song from the entire album that YOI released.

seeing Yuuri attempt Victor’s move in episode 7 and then successfully master it in episode 12 was something amazing to see. it was an incredible thing to see Yuuri land on his feet as opposed to him hitting the ice again, and it really shows how far’s he’s come. 

another positive would 100% be the fact that figure skating had gained a lot more popularity. it was so nice seeing so many people become more interested in the sport itself, and i loved seeing pro skaters even love the show! Stéphane Lambiel even had a cameo in episode 12!

the characters’ designs are really not all that bad. and the voice work is great! i don’t really watched dubbed anime often, but the dub for YOI was over-the-top and ridiculous! and the VA for Yuuri in the English dub (Josh Grelle) was at SuperCon this year, and he kept talking about how much he loved Yuuri’s character. he loves the fact that the story of YOI takes place in a world where no one has to be afraid of loving who they love, and that’s something he wants to see in the near future, and i find that incredibly sweet.

the dog is immortal.

CONCLUSION

so. there you go. that’s all i have to say about the entirety of Yuri!!! on ICE. 

did i enjoy it? well, yeah, a little bit. i was a part of a YOI skype chat when it began because i was so excited that we were getting a sports anime about figure skating!

was it worth all the Internet-breaking hype? eeeeh, not entirely, no? episode 7′s kiss was something special, yes, but the show itself wasn’t allowed to be critiqued that often while the show was still riding the high of popularity it had. 

and if you liked the anime, that’s awesome! i’m glad you did! i can 100% see why the show was very popular and why a lot of people still love it! 

i don’t label every YOi fan a homophobe for liking the show, but seeing this kind of behavior way too often has made me lose my love for the show overall. i can’t even look at the show anymore, and that’s really upsetting to me. but, it did make me happy for the time being. it’s just a fucking shame that the show had a shit ton to work with, and they didn’t go for it. 

i’m sorry this got very long, but there were some areas that i needed to delve more into than others and i got carried away.

#answered #anonymous #spilled latte #latte talks about series #anime talk #yoi criticism #yuri on ice criticism