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arts-dance · 1 year

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An Alarmingly Deep Dive Into the Science of Baby Yoda We talked to eight actual scientists to find the answers. This is a cry for help. Popular Mechanics * Eric Spitznagel

There have been many famous babies throughout history: The Lindbergh Baby. The Gerber Baby. Baby Jessica. Rosemary’s Baby. But has there ever been a baby as universally loved and fawned over as Baby Yoda?

For all the joy that Baby Yoda brings us, he can also be confusing. And not because of the obvious questions, like whether Baby Yoda is the real Yoda. Obviously he’s not. The Mandalorian—the Disney+ original series that’s given us our favorite non-English-speaking Star Wars character since BB-8—is set between Return of the Jedi (when the O.G. Yoda dies) and The Force Awakens [this article was written in October 2020, just before the release of season 2].

It’s arguable that Baby Yoda could be the illegitimate love-child of Yoda and Yaddle, the lady Yoda from The Phantom Menace, and there’s been some scholarly speculation on that topic, including an investigative report with the refreshingly blunt title, “Did Yoda F**k?”

But whether the Yoda is Baby Yoda’s true daddy isn’t what fascinates us every time we tune into The Mandalorian. What keeps us coming back for more is trying to figure out what in the actual hell Baby Yoda is supposed to be.

So ... What Is Baby Yoda?

We know almost nothing about Baby Yoda, other than that he appears to be the same species as a famous Jedi Master with big ears and a bizarre linguistic quirk. But the details, and even the name of that species, remains a mystery. Even George Lucas has no idea. In a 2005 MovieFone interview, the guy who single-handedly invented the Star Wars universe admitted he’d “never really figured out where [Yoda] came from, what his species is called. It doesn’t even have a name. Maybe it’s somewhere but I don’t know what it is.”

Here’s what we do know about Baby Yoda: He’s almost unbearably cute, he can walk but spends most of his time in an egg-cradle, he naps a lot, he has put two frogs (as of this writing) in his mouth but never eats them, and he has at least enough control of the Force to briefly levitate a Mudhorn.

Baby Yoda, or “The Child” as he’s sometimes called, is 50 years old despite seeming, by all accounts, like an infant. Which isn’t all that crazy given the lifespan of his species. Yoda lived to the ripe old age of 900, when he was still mentally agile enough to sass Luke, telling his young apprentice that he’d never look as good in his old age.

But things get confusing when you try calculating Baby Yoda’s age in human years.

If the lifespan of Yodas are similar to humans, given certain lifestyle factors—regular exercise, not drinking or smoking, and maintaining a healthy weight—Baby Yoda could reasonably anticipate living anywhere from 72 (the average life expectancy) to 90 years. The original Yoda died at 900, and given his clean living and omnivore diet, we can guesstimate his death age at somewhere around 90 in human years.

Which means Baby Yoda, at 50, is the developmental equivalent of a five-year-old human child.

In many ways, Baby Yoda’s brain maturation is consistent with humans. He’s hit all of his motor milestones, like sitting up, crawling, and walking. He also seems in line with fine motor milestones like grasping small objects and eating. But he’s displaying a lot of behaviors that hint at cognitive delays.

“He likes to put things in his mouth, like small chrome knobs and frogs,” notes Duke University biologist Eric Spana. “The putting-all-the-things-in-your-mouth stage in humans is at about one year, plus or minus six months.”

It’s all perfectly normal—yes, even the frog-sucking—but by age three, most kids have stopped exploring their world orally.

“Developmentally, Baby Yoda seems like a human one-year-old,” Spana suggests.

He’s also noticeably behind in language comprehension. Baby babble is typical during the first 12 months, but some children may say their first words as early as nine months. By four years old, they should be speaking fluently in a way that even strangers can understand. Baby Yoda, by contrast, doesn’t seem to have advanced beyond cooing and baby gibberish.

The developmental lagging probably won’t last for long. If Baby Yoda matures in the same timetable as old-school Yoda, he should (according to the official record) became a Jedi Master at the age of 100—or, in human years, when he’s approximately 10 years old. Talk about a cognitive leap.

So what’s going on here? The first problem, according to evolutionary biologist Alan Cohen, is putting too much trust in the “dog years” multiplier for translating age between species.

“The rule of the rule of thumb that one human year is seven dog years is clearly not quite right,” Cohen says. “For example, after two years the dog is more like a 20-year-old human than a 14-year-old. Also, lifespan varies substantially across breeds, but there are many 12-to-14 year old dogs that display energy levels and vitality unthinkable for 84-to-98 year-old humans.”

👇 👇 👇 👇

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inspector-is-inspecting · 2 years

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(OOC: THANK YOU ALL FOR 33 FOLLOWERS! ^^

I appreciate that y'all loved my dumb lil thing enough to follow, and decided to do a small thing of the form anons take, the Bug Bots! This was a lot of fun to do to be honest, even if it took afew hours

either way hope you all enjoy this small piece, and I look forward to doing more with the blog and my version of the Inspector!)

#OOC #art #Bug Bot Anons #feel free to tag which one you feel like fits you the most #i personally emotionally feel like the one hurdling into a bush #but really thank you all #it really means so much to me and warms my heart thinking so many people care about this dumb lil askblog #it may seem like a small milestone to fawn over but it really really means a lot to me ^^

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soranihimawari · 4 years

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where he loved you

you would count on one hand the various times you’ve been in love. their names were “who,” “what,” “when,” “where,” and finally, “why.” those prompting words belonged to different boys throughout your school years since you entered junior high. you had often heard your mother chatting with your neighbor, one of the parents of the twin boys who were curious about the timid kid who lived a few houses down the block. for the life of you, you could not come up with a good enough excuse, even at the ripe old age of ten years old, to remove yourself from eating dinner at the miya household. the twins in your class were always causing mayhem with their crazy hijinks during recess, yet your mother shot you a glare saying you were going with her and that was that.

so when your mother suggested you wear your “fancy” clothes for the welcoming dinner party you weren’t expecting one of those twin demons to actually compliment your jumper dress. you had your bangs pinned to the side with small fox shaped barretts. you looked up at your mom who nudged your shoulder cuing your ten year old self to say, “thanks ‘samu.” his brother, atsumu, on the other hand, sent you a curious glance, but nonetheless showed you all their lego sets. right before you and your mother left their house, you extended both of your pinkies to the twins (who were surprisingly calmer at home) making them promise to be your first best friends ever.

at ten years old, you realize you might begin liking living in a new part of hyogo.

-- SEVERAL YEARS LATER: inarizaki high school, free period --

“oi! y/n-san! you got miyas on your three o’clock,” your classmate, nagisa-chan, called out to you and you inhaled a deep breath, then upon the exhale you heard atsumu’s voice reverberate from the entrance to your classroom.

“hey there baby cakes,” atsumu always had greeted you with wonderful terms of endearment. every day it was something new and rather than make a fuss over the one he called you today, you just went along with it. “listen there was something ‘samu and i needed a third party to settle for us.”

the sound of his voice seemed to be in it’s jovial range, meaning the now blond-haired twin was feeling a little overly confident. you mentally calculated the amount of steps it would take the twins to approach your desk allowing you to mentally prepare for whatever it was atsumu was going to throw at you. when you reached the holy number of seven (they took broader strides ever since they grew taller), atsumu was walking toward your desk with his brother not too far behind. they were dressed in their athleisure gear for their club while you were still seen in your uniform. you were writing down the last part of your essay on the allusions to nature from the western romantic authors of the 18th century, but you took a break every now and then to enjoy a sip of canned hot cocoa.

“and praytell what would that be, ‘tsumu?” you folded your arms neatly on your desk. throughout the past six years, you grew up alongside the miya twins, so you were already accustomed to the way atsumu furrowed his brows as a silent tell that he was about say something stupid.

“now i need you to be one-percent honest with me.”

“miya atsumu, we’ve known each other for the last six years, built dozens of castles made from legos, hell, i even watched you get your first kiss on the jungle gym last year by the park close to home, and now you’re wondering if my honesty is real?” you were enjoying atsumu’s face fall into a panic when you recounted all of the milestones he bragged to you about. stifling a laugh, you glanced behind atsumu’s shoulder returning osamu’s nod of salutations. “see? this is why my other friends think osamu is the better twin.“

“hah!” osamu scoffed unaware of your small increase heartbeat. your brain clearly labeled it as nerves, but the muscle in your chest cavity said otherwise. yes, you did grow up together, so you were accustomed to how each of them grew into their features and you’d have to be blind to the way your circle of girl friends fawned over the volleyball siblings. “see, this is why i’m glad she made us make that pinkie promise.”

“shut it ‘samu.”

you poked atsumu’s cheek with the back of the pen you were using, a useful tactic to discipline him for being rude to his sibling thus causing the blond setter to laugh too.

“now, what exactly do you want me to settle for you two?” you asked, removing the pen from atsumu’s face.

atsumu turned to face his brother for a moment before shrugging their shoulders as if to say, “just ask her. it’s not that hard man.”

“we was wonderin’ if you prefer sweet snacks over onigiri,“ atsumu stammers. “i said you always liked sweets. you always ate candy whenever you came over.”

“uh-huh. well, that part may be true, ‘tsum,“ you begin. then you let out a short giggle. “but i do prefer eel onigiri over sweets. sorry ‘tsum.”

then, without any forewarning, atsumu decided to spill one of the biggest secrets he was for sure going to get yelled at for at home before he turned on his heels to leave:

“okay good. because i’m pretty sure my little brother is going to make you eel onigiri to go along with his confessing his undying love for you.“

“huh?!“ you and osamu both exclaimed when you jumped up from your desk. all color drained from the younger twin’s face as he recalled confiding in his brother how he really felt about you earlier that school year after you three walked home one spring afternoon in your first year.

when the rest of the class heard what atsumu had mentioned, the girls in your class gave the soundtrack from live t.v. a chorus of “awws,” were heard as you seized both of the siblings hands and politely, yet hastily, dragged them both outside of your homeroom. you dragged them into the music room and immediately shut the door behind you.

“i never once wanted to be an only child up until ten minutes ago,” you heard osamu mumble when you walked past him. you glanced up at his brother for brief moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.

“atsumu, i don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but you should know better than either of us, it’s not nice to play with other people’s feelings. especially when it involves the three of us.“ you said as you paced back and forth in front of them. “i suggest you leave now before osamu makes good on his promise of wanting to be an only child. i’ll see you after practice, yeah?”

atsumu nodded, he had knowing smirk once he closed the door again, leaning against it to keep watch (aaand to eavesdrop).

osamu ran a hand through his now dark gray hair, his eyes focusing on everything else but you. his secret was out thanks to atsumu, which wasn’t part of how he was going to confess to you at all, yet life finds away. especially when karma presented itself so deliciously in his brother’s lap.

“now that ‘tsumu’s gone, mind explaining to me what he meant by ‘confessing his undying love’?” you inquired. you stopped pacing at that point to study how osamu stood across from you thinking about how to feign innocence prior to abandoning all reasonable excuses. his marble gray eyes visibly softening soaking up the way the sun had decided to shroud you in a golden hue. your hair was brushed back behind your neck since your pacing had caused it to flutter about behind you.

“’samu, why are you just standing there looking at me like that? do i have something on my face?” your voice brought his thoughts to a screeching hault.

instead, with whatever courage osamu had stored, he gripped your shoulders gently leaning in.

“you can stop me if this is weird for you,” his words danced across your cupid’s bow. and when your hands find their resting place around his shoulders when you slightly stood up on your tip-toes, closing your eyes you closed the short gap between you and osamu’s lips. if someone were to ask osamu what kissing you felt like, he would tell them your mouth tasted like first of november; warm and bright, similar to the feeling of drinking hot cocoa for the first time that year. when you break the kiss as you returned to standing flatly on the ground, the two of you realize something together.

“i’ve been in love you since the day you came over for the first time when we were ten,” osamu says, a coy smile finds its way to his mouth. your curious eyes widen at the brazen forwardness of his statement, you close and open your mouth feeling your breath hitching in your throat, so you just nod. osamu instead of releasing your shoulders from his hands, he pulls your body flush against his own; you swear you could hear how erratic his heart was nervously beating. all this was because of you.

“osamu?“ your voice was timid this time when your hand traces tiny spirals on his shoulder blades in a way to relieve some of his outlying anxiety spewing forth from his confession.

“hmm?”

“count to ten for me, yeah?” you feel him hum again; you remove your left hand away from his shoulder and cup the side of his face. he leaned into your palm with eyes closed as if he were about to cry like the one time he scraped his knee after his bike flipped over at the park when you were eleven, but having you cradle his head in your tiny hands prevented him from doing so. when he reached nine, you gave yourself a mental pep talk right as he finished counting...

ever so slowly, inexorably, you press your lips onto his again. the action was kind, gentle, and chaste. it was then that you both notice that maybe there’s no fireworks or sparks like in the movies you forced the twins to watch with you on valentine’s day, but it’s better than anything the scripts could come up with – there is a wave of passion that fills his mind up with memories of how much he craved for you to return all those stolen glances atsumu would tease him for days on end; it was spilling out from his heart now and you were relentless in letting osamu know how much those mutual feelings were returned by fact you allow yourself to deepen this embrace the further you both plummet in desire.

by the time you exit the classroom, hand in hand with osamu leading the way, you pretend to not notice the way atsumu had this “i told you so” air about him.

you and osamu were sixteen years old when it dawned on you that you had fell in love for the fourth time (osamu would essentially be the one to teach you the lesson of “where you love”) completely unaware that your new lover’s twin brother swallowed his pride for just a second to realize you were the one to teach him the answer for “why he loves.”

—bonus inspiration photo collage below—

disclaimer: I found all these images on Pinterest & used the borders app to collage the images. all content belong to the original owners.

thanks for reading!

#who what when where and why #miya osumu #osamu x reader #hq fictions #love is a messy thing #fluff with a twist!#back on my nonsense #⌚️queued

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seriouslyhooked · 4 years

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The Same Soul 7

Available on FF Here and AO3 Here. Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6.

Our world AU where Emma and Killian knew each other as teenagers. Killian was sent to spend a summer with family in America. He met foster kid Emma while there. They fell in love but then he was forced back home and she couldn’t take the memories so she ran away, trying her best to move on from the dreams they’d always hoped for. A chance meeting brings them back together years later, and this time nothing and no one will keep them apart. Rated M.

A/N: Hey all! So we are back with another chapter of this story and I have to be honest, the beginning is really hard to read. For some of my more softhearted readers, this may be too much. It’s the moment when Emma and Killian had to say goodbye back in the past. Not to worry though, because I am not leaving us in sadness. Far from it, I’m actually including a snippet from the present as well. It will include fluff, a little smut, and hopefully some healing from the tiny heart ache that is the first part. Either way, I thank you so much for reading, and I hope you will enjoy!

(Past)

Today is easily the worst day I’ve faced so far.

The thought held no small weight to Killian, given all that he had overcome in his life. In recent years he’d lost so much, and none of that had been easy for him. The pain he knew was real and sincere, but this summer was a reprieve from all of that. With Emma, he was able to rebuild, to find himself again, and to wish for more than the darkness of before. Yet even that magic they had found was not infinite. There were still obstacles ahead, and in a few hours he was going to have to say goodbye to the girl who had total claim to his heart.

It would be months before the two of them could reunite, and to say he was impatient was an understatement. Killian had never resented his youth before, but today he did. Eighteen was such an arbitrary milestone. Some people lived so much of life even when they were young. He was not average. He had seen a lot and experienced the range of emotions any person could face. Trials had come, and he was stronger for them, but this one felt insurmountable. He could not fathom leaving Emma, it would be like leaving his soul, and what was the point of that? They were meant to be together, and if there was justice in this world then they would be, no matter what their ages.

Though Killian tried to tamp these thoughts down all through today, his heart was in excruciating pain any time the weight of their reality set back in. Tomorrow, bright and early, Emma had to head back to her foster home. Her summer at camp was now finished, the warmer season was blaring out in a last blaze of heat before the autumn chill would come, and Killian was set to depart for home soon too. His time at his Uncle’s was at an end and there was no way around that. He tried to tell his brother of his wish to stay here, but it wasn’t that simple. Him being a foreigner and things being rushed as they were made solutions virtually impossible. As such, Liam would be ready to receive him, and life was meant to go on. Emma would be going to the city, but he’d fly an ocean away, making things all the harder. Staying in touch was going to be difficult. They had few avenues to do so, circumstances being what they were, but in Killian’s eyes there was no choice on the matter. This could not end here, not when he’d given himself to Emma so completely. He loved her, with a deeper reservoir of feeling than most people could even comprehend. It was absolute and undeniable, and yet even that feeling could not spare them from this pain.

“How can something so beautiful still not make me happy?” Emma asked, her eyes cast out to the sea as the final bit of sunlight escaped from view. In the distance playing seals savored the last of the warm sun in their coastal home, and sea birds dove for final meals before the light was gone. The sky was streaked with a miraculous burst of color on this final summer day, but Killian knew exactly what she meant. This view brought him no comfort, not when the arms he currently had wrapped around the girl he loved would be empty very soon.

“I don’t know, love. But it’ll be better soon. I’ll be back at Christmas, and in the meantime I’ll do everything I can to make this better. Until then we’ll write. I’ll write you every day as many times as I can. There’s not a day that will pass where I won’t think of you, and even if I’m far away, I’ll make sure that you know it.”

Emma leaned back into his embrace, and he watched her tears brimming, but she wouldn’t let them fall. Instead she closed her eyes, soaking in the feeling of them being together and creating a tightness in his throat he dared not speak through. Damn it! This was the worst he’d ever felt. It was hopeless. Why did things have to be this way? Why did the world think that they were too young to make their own choices? All the rules that said they couldn’t be together yet infuriated him. Emma was the most important thing to him, and when she left she’d be alone. She had no family, no true friends back at the center, nowhere she felt she belonged. It was so wrong to send her back there, especially when he had so much love to give her. He’d spend every day of his life showing her that she was extraordinary and making amends for all the time that she’d gone through life alone.

Along with seeking out a way to stay, Killian had spent the past few weeks searching for a means to get Emma somewhere better. He was desperate to give Emma more, even if he couldn’t give her everything. Her coming with him was out of the question. A foster child in America was never going to be allowed to come back to the UK, so he asked his Uncle for help. The trouble was even a man with as much sway as Benjen Jones was limited, and there was little he could do, at least immediately. Much as Benjen might like to give Emma a place to live that was better than a group home, it wouldn’t be okay for him to be her guardian. If Killian loved her as he did, it wouldn’t be proper, and on some level Killian understood that. He even believed his Uncle when the man said he was working very hard to find Emma a good placement. His Uncle Benjen had many favors that were owed him, and he was calling in a number of them to see Emma placed in a loving, stable place where she could at the very least have peace until she was of age in a year or so. But even that was too slow going. The system was a mess here all the time, but during summer? Well, it turned out there were just too many cogs in the wheel. No answers had been found, no solutions secured, and so Emma was headed back to a place she truly hated, despite his attempts to get her out of there.

“I used to wish so badly for a family,” She whispered a few minutes later, her eyes casting back to the horizon. “I waited for the stars, searched for clovers in the grass, picked up every lucky penny that I could. Now finally I feel like I have one. You gave me that, Killian. You make me feel whole and wanted, and I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for something I was born to do, Emma. It’s my honor to belong to you.”

“I don’t want to go,” she confessed, turning to him, the tears now falling fully and he tried to wipe them away before pulling her in and hugging her close. Feeling her unhappiness was a knife to the soul. It tore at him, but he stayed strong for her. He held her close and made every promise he could think to make. He would love her forever. He would find a way. They would make it through this. It would be okay. But nothing could turn this around, not even the kisses they shared as Emma sought his lips on hers to drown out the sorrow of this terrible goodbye.

Eventually they knew they had to leave the beach. Emma’s curfew was drawing near, and they had less time today than normal. She still had to pack and say goodbye to the people who had watched her this summer. Killian wouldn’t say that they were close, per se, but there was an increased fondness there. Emma had been welcomed if not exactly fawned over, and Emma was grateful for the safe place to land. But while they were close to the time assigned to them when they went away this morning, Killian was surprised to find Emma’s caretakers outside awaiting them when they were back at the estate.

“Oh, Emma, there you are. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Waiting?” Emma asked, and then her eyes cast to the woman behind them, who looked annoyed and aloof. “Ms. Stewart? But I thought pick up was tomorrow. I’ve still got one more night.”

“We sent word to your temporary guardians that there was a change in plan last week. But somehow it seems the message was lost.”

Killian didn’t think that was the case, not when the people Emma had lived with this summer shared a look between each other that spoke to a sad understanding. If he had to guess, these people had given Emma one more day, and though he was devastated that the time for her to go was now, he was so grateful for all the hours they’d been granted by a bit of compassionate aid.

“I don’t understand,” Emma said, before turning back to Killian. “I don’t know how to say goodbye.”

“Then we won’t, Emma. Because it’s not even a goodbye. Goodbyes are far too final, and this is hardly the end of you and me.”

“You love me?” she asked, wanting to hear something he’d told her a thousand times.

“Aye, with all that I am.”

“Forever?” she asked, as his hand cupped her cheek.

“Even longer than that, Swan.”

“And I’ll love you the same. I’ll never stop, Killian. You’ll always be with me.”

Killian wanted to ask her why it felt like, even without saying the word, Emma was bidding him goodbye. He was haunted by a feeling of foreboding, but then her case worker was heading to the car with Emma’s bags and time was up. For one last time this summer, Emma pulled him down for a kiss, one that was all too fleeting, and when they pulled apart her tears still stained her cheeks and her eyes carried every bit of sadness he expected his reflected.

“I love you, Killian. I always will…”

And with that, Emma was ushered away into the car, headed down the road, away from him, and taking all her light and love with her, leaving him unanchored in a sea of grief and pain.

………..

(Present)

Waking up from the vivid dream firmly based in memory, Killian could hardly catch his breath. His heart pounded in his ears and his adrenaline was shot, but then he sensed it, the warmth of his Emma right there beside him as she slept peacefully through the night.

God how scared he was to think that she was gone again. It was a scar he had born for years, the knowledge that she was nowhere to be found, and the eventual realization that she was lost to him for what felt like forever. It took a few months for him to realize the depths of their separation. He was alarmed at first when he didn’t hear from her. He sent letters every day and never heard anything back, any time he tried to call the group home Emma was at it was chaos. No one ever had answers, and rarely did they ever even answer the phone. Finally, a few months in, he was desperate to see her and on the day he turned eighteen he bought a ticket and flew the six thousand miles that separated them. He had no real plan except to see her – everything else would just work out, but then he got there only to feel excruciating heartbreak.

“Emma Swan is gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean? Was she placed somewhere else?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

Killian was aggrieved at that, but as he was heading out another worker stopped him. Was he K. Jones? Yes he was. A bit of hope tore threw him. Maybe Emma had left him a message. Maybe she’d left a way to find her. But instead the woman returned a few minutes later with a pile of letters, his letters to Emma, all of them untouched and unopened.

“Emma is what we call a runner,” the woman said in the face of his complete shock and horror. “She skipped out of here within twenty-four hours of returning from her camp.”

“How do you know she meant to leave? How do you know…” Killian couldn’t finish the words.

“How do we know she wasn’t taken? Police did an investigation. Caught a glimpse of her on camera at the bus depot but then the trail went cold. It happens sometimes with these kids.”

It should have never happened to Emma, and even now, years later and after more than a month of their being reunited, Killian still didn’t know why Emma had run back then. Had something happened? Did she feel unsafe in her placement there? Had someone hurt her? Or did she simply lose faith that he meant every promise that he made? Was the pain of it all too much? He could imagine so many reasons, and though none of them would heal the pain of the past, it was something Killian felt he needed to know. It was a final missing piece to the puzzle of what had been, and though he didn’t want to rush her, he felt strongly that he had to ask her why and soon.

As if she could sense his being awake and the pain he was in, Emma stirred in her sleep, blinking her eyes as she came to, and immediately seeing him. The smile that appeared when she saw him forged a direct hit to his heart, for in her eyes he saw relief. She was glad to be with him, thankful that it wasn’t just a dream, and happy here at his side.

“Someone’s thinking an awful lot for…” Emma shifted slightly to glance at the alarm clock beside his bedside table and groaned, “three AM. And here I was thinking we’d both be dead to the world until morning.”

Killian smiled at the reminder of how they’d come to that exhausted state, despite the heavy thoughts that had just plagued him. The love they shared, the heat and the desire had boiled over and for hours they’d teased and tormented each other with sheer pleasure. Over and over and over again they’d come together, spending the whole damn night as close as they could be. They were still so hungry for each other, so in need of catching up on all the time they’d lost. There was no dialing back, no shutting this down, and they both understood that. Even now, Killian felt that call, the ache inside that would only be cured by her touch, her kiss, and her warmth, and when Emma smiled seductively and hummed out a happy sound he knew she was on the same page.

“You really are insatiable, you know that?” she quipped as her fingertips ran down his chest and she moved to kiss him, ending the soft press of their lips with a slight nip that drove him wild.

“I’ve been called worse,” he said, coming over her and admiring the view. God she was gorgeous, even in this dim light that shone from the street outside. Every part of her was perfect, an enticement that he couldn’t resist, so he stopped trying. Why deny himself this happiness? Why forsake what they’d both gone far too long without?

“How can I want you this bad?” Emma asked, her words a gasped out sigh as his mouth trailed from her lips down her neck and along every curve and swell on her body. He took his time, reminding himself of her taste and riling her to a state that could compare to his own.

“Because it’s fate, love. You were made for me and I for you. Same as always.”

“I know,” Emma said, the affirmation more intoxicating than even the taste of sweetness on her skin. “But still. You drive me crazy. I always want this, always need this. It’s just not normal.”

Killian chuckled at that, reminding her that they were far from normal before he licked her most sensitive flesh, distracting her from her pondering about the bond between them. He growled as he took from her, driving her higher into her state of arousal before slowing down just to make her beg and plead. Only when he knew she might go mad did he send her over, and then, when he was certain she could take more he came back up above her, filling her over and over again and chasing completion that would leave both of them shattered and sated.

Having Emma like this was the best remedy to the sadness of before. He had no space for anything but peace here with her. This was where he belonged. This was the great joy of his life, to love this woman, to care for her, and to cherish her always. He had told her time and again that now they were reunited, he’d never let them part, and in this moment he relished that. Holding her in his arms after they’d both fallen into bliss, Killian knew that this time would be different. There would be no running, no distance, and no reason for this to end. They were together now and it would truly be forever. He’d see to that, no matter what it took.

“You had the dream again, didn’t you?” Emma asked and Killian was surprised at her words. “The one where I run.”

“How did you know?”

“You talk in your sleep sometimes. A few weeks ago you… well it doesn’t matter really. I should have told you when I found you again why I left at all. You deserve that at the very least.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Emma.”

“I know,” She said with a sad smile as her hand came to rest against his heart. “But I do want to. I want to put it behind us, and I can’t do that until I tell you.”

Killian listened then as Emma explained those crucial twenty four hours that he could never find answers for. She told him how she had returned and how immediately the home had felt hollow and harrowing. She was hardened to it before, having never let anyone in, but after meeting him and tasting what better could be, it was all too much for Emma to take. That first night back another girl lashed out at Emma, a fight had ensued, one where Emma was just trying to protect herself, but the woman who ran the group home blamed her anyway. Then she’d gone off on Emma, completely violating every ounce of human decency she could in the process.

“She talked about my parents and how I’d never knew he they were. Then she reminded me of every home that gave me up. She sat there, reading my file one by one. It was so triggering to hear how long that list was, and she basically just said I deserved it.. I was never enough and she was all too happy to remind me of that.”

“God, I can’t even imagine, Emma. She was supposed to protect you, and instead she hurt you. She should never have been allowed around children. What kind of monster would say such things?”

“I found out a few years later that she was fired just a few weeks after I ran. She had a drinking problem and the state found out. I guess I wasn’t the only kid she messed up while running the place. She was deeply unhappy, and everything she said was about making me small so she could feel bigger. I just wish I could have seen it for what it was then. It took a long time for me to realize that her vitriol was a reflection of her, not me.”

“Was that all that she said?” Killian asked, his hands cupping Emma’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen as she recalled this brutal blow.

“No. She said my summer was over. She said whatever I’d had there was no more. I had to remember who I was and where I came from. There was no happy ending in store for me because I didn’t deserve it. I wasn’t worthy of a story like that.”

The anger Killian felt at hearing all of this couldn’t be described. It was violent and unlike him. He had some very dark thoughts about this woman. She was malicious and cruel. She had deeply wounded the girl that he loved, and she kept them apart. Without her, Emma would have stayed. She’d gotten the chance to see how steadfast he was and they’d have been together all this time.

“I wanted to write to you. I wrote a hundred letters in my head, but I needed to find a place to land first. I never stayed anywhere for long, I was lucky to have a roof over my head more nights than not, and it took me over a year to reconnect with Mrs. H, but by then it felt too late. Surely you would hate me for not responding, right? I mean I knew on some level that you wouldn’t, but I don’t know, I got so scared, and I just… after everything I couldn’t take any more rejection. So I carried you with me, I dreamed of you, but I wouldn’t let myself go there. It was too much.”

“You were trying to survive,” Killian said, understanding her motives quite well. Emma nodded, her eyes closed as a few more tears fell. “And thank God you did, love. You had to be so strong. You had to do it all alone. I hate that you did, but damn I’m so proud of you, Emma. I’m so proud that in spite of everything, you still became all that you are.”

“So you’re not mad?” Emma asked and Killian shook his head as he kissed her lips again.

“Not at you,” he assured her, “never at you, love.”

“I love you, Killian,” she confessed, holding him close. “I love you so much and I know we haven’t said it to each other in forever but -,”

Unable to hear her worry about his feelings any longer, Killian silenced her with a kiss so searing and deliberate it could not be denied. He said with this embrace every single thing he felt, and he knew by the time they pulled apart that Emma understood. Still he gave her the words so as to put her mind and heart at ease.

“I have loved you from the moment that we met, Emma, I have loved you every moment we were parted, and I will love you every second of my life yet to come. You are it for me, everything I could want, everything I could dream of. With you I have the world, and without you I am lost. It’s just that simple.”

“I thought I’d never hear you say those words again, and now that I have… it’s like coming home.”

“Aye, because that’s what we are. We’re each other’s home and we always will be.”

So with that promise, and a few more stolen kisses, Emma and Killian allowed sleep to take them once more. And this time there were no bad dreams or nightmares past – there was only peace and the confidence of two people who were certain in their choice and who loved each other freely, just as they were meant to.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I chose to make this chapter a bit shorter than others mostly because it was so painful. Funny how my muse is determined to have these parts in a story, but my heart just can’t bear to linger with them. Anyway, please everyone rest assured that the remaining chapters (of which there are only a few) will be much lighter and that the hurt is behind Emma and Killian moving forward. Thank you all so much for reading, and for those of you who comment and review, please know that it means the world for me to read your feedback. Grateful for all of you and wishing you a wonderful rest of your week!

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aadmelioraa · 7 years

Text

I See You, Till Kingdom Come (Chapter 7: Changes)

Clarke and Bellamy visited the hospital multiple times over the next few days, Bellamy bringing something increasingly absurd for his niece every time— first it was a small stuffed fawn (Octavia’s favorite movie growing up had been Bambi), next time a pair of tiny slippers that were still far too large for a newborn, then finally a beautifully illustrated copy of Bulfinch’s Mythology—“a practical gift,” Bellamy claimed, ignoring Clarke’s and Octavia’s uncontrollable cackles, “for when she’s older.”

Bellamy was, in Clarke’s opinion, unfairly adorable with his niece. He completely melted whenever he was around Jasmine, and rarely gave anyone else the opportunity to hold her. Clarke didn’t really mind that part. She had never been especially keen on babies. Though she thought she probably wanted kids of her own someday, Clarke never had strong feelings about having kids with any previous partners, so it had always seemed like a very abstract concept. She had to admit, however, seeing Bellamy with Jasmine in his arms made her feel a bit differently than she had before.

Octavia and the baby were set to leave the hospital after a few days, and Bellamy had promised Lincoln that they would have the house ready for them so he wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Abby and Marcus were out shopping to stock the fridge, while Bellamy and Clarke cleaned and tidied up. The house was a bit messier than usual, since Octavia’s labor had come on early and rather quickly, but it didn’t take them too long to get things sorted. They worked separately in the bathrooms and living area for the first hour, then eventually made their way to the kitchen which they tackled together.

Bellamy had just returned from taking out the trash, and Clarke noticed he had a rather strange expression on his face.

“You alright?” she paused her scrubbing of the stovetop to look closely at him.

Bellamy smiled, and though he was tired the smile reached his eyes. “It’s just so weird that O is a mom now,” he admitted, running a hand over his glistening forehead and through his unruly hair, “I feel like yesterday I was teaching her how to ride a bike and doing her pigtails.” It was clear in his face that he was still just processing the events of the past few days.

Clarke nodded, handing him a glass of water. “I know, it’s strange she’s the first one to kind of settle down, she always seemed so wild back when we were kids. But Wells and I have both made career changes, you and Raven have been making waves in academia, so I guess it makes sense that she’s at this point before anyone else. The rest of us are a little behind on the normal relationship milestones in comparison.”

“Sure, I guess…I mean, she is my little sister, but I never assumed I’d be the one to settle down first, not after I met Lincoln,” Bellamy chuckled and placed the now empty glass down on the counter, as the memory of a younger Octavia came to him, “As soon as I saw her with him, I knew that was it for her. She just completely adored him from the moment they met. And he understood her so well from day one.”

Clarke smiled gently to hear him talk with such tenderness. “That’s really sweet.”

“Yeah, when you know…you know.”

Clarke’s heart was beating in her throat. “You ever think about having kids?” She tried to keep her voice light and casual as she unloaded the dishwasher, but she could see Bellamy out of the corner of her eye. He was sweeping the kitchen floor, and he paused his motions for a split second to push his glasses up, then continued working.

“Sure,” he replied, voice warm and full of amusement, then proceeding a bit more cautiously, “you?”

Clarke shrugged, “I have. Lots of factors to consider.”

“Such as?” he was standing a little closer now, and she turned to meet his eye.

“Economic considerations, for one. Whether you and your partner have time and are in the right point in your relationship, assuming you both want kids. How many, if any. Whether to have biological children or adopt…”

“You sound like you may have devoted some thought to this lately.” She could tell he was trying very hard to keep from smirking, and he nearly succeeded.

“I’d consider having kids with you.” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them.

Bellamy raised his eyebrows, “The baby holding thing get you a little turned on, huh?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned back to the refrigerator. “Yeah, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

He pulled her towards him, laughing, and kissed the top of her head, his hands lingering on her hips. She had just turned to face him when they heard the front door knob turn and Bellamy jumped. They were suddenly teenagers again, and he didn’t want to be caught in a compromising position. Clarke met his eyes, and his face was slightly flushed, though he grinned down at her. She laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his chin.

“Mom, Clarke and Bellamy were kissing,” exclaimed Paige, who entered the kitchen first holding a small bag of produce. Ian, just on her heels, mirrored his sister’s mock disgust.

“Were not,” taunted Bellamy in an exaggeratedly defiant tone, and picked the giggling girl up, throwing her over his shoulder.