#E FUCKING PENGUIN GOOD GODDAMN NIGHT

[elfilinism]

happy bday fremi u get bday kissies from ur partners bc you deserve that much at the very fucking least

[caliburn-the-sword]

fhh ch47-52

this time i SWEAR i won't forget to include where i got up to. however, i think with the power of sheer force of will, i may complete the book. i WILL be staying up past midnight just to achieve it too. i n e e d to know. unless it puts me through so much struggle i once again need a break

debate on penguins HELP rosorion is literally the cutest. relationship goals

love how rosalind and celia went to bed fighting and woke up teasing one another. true siblings fr

how is alisa concerned for the state of rosalind's driving. as if she didn't run over a fence. like yes it was in smoke but STILL rosalind commented on her lack of driving experience. i love how they mutually think the other sucks at driving

YAY WE'RE SEEING ROMA AND JULIETTE AGAIN

alisa is so damn clever. i am however also concerned she is gonna be caught by lady hong's forces and used as bait. however i doubt lady hong grasps alisa's importance to the rest of the group

YESSSS ROSALIND AND ORION ARE PLAYING AT MARRIED COUPLE AGAIN LIFE IS GOOD

alisa if you didn't think you'd get this far WHY would you yeet yourself into lady hong's truck ;-; that's not very greatly thought out

okay i'm probably WAY overanalysing here but i remembered apples having some significant symbolism in chinese culture because we have it every new year. my dumbass assumed it was longevity like practically everything we eat at new year symbolises but i looked it up to double check and it actually represents safety. funny little easter egg miss chloe potentially dropped with rosalind buying those while hiding out at the hotel fksdjfsn

BENEDIKT

ik that we were all theorising that lourens was connected to this all but ARE YOU SERIOUS HE WORKED ON ORION FASKDJFS. everything is connected~

MARS I LOVE HIM YAY HE'S BACK I MISSED HIM

nothing more romantic than a couple fighting <3

i love how lourens is just straight up connected to every single crazy experiment in all of europe and asia. like goddamn this man is on the grind. working day and night putting his blood sweat and tears into developing every kind of supersoldier, multiple forms of mind control etc etc. this guy never rests

JULIETTE MY BELOVED. yk shit's wrong when SHE'S gotta be the reasonable one and stop rosalind from mauling a man to death

ROSORION REUNION HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK I AM CRYING TEARS WHETHER THEY ARE OF JOY OR OF DESPAIR OR BOTH IS UP TO YOU

juliette is incorrect i absolutely need a mars/orion friendship immediately

omfg i'm glad alisa is safe

lourens is such a chad istg he shows up, cures orion, takes it upon himself to nap on roma's couch. what an icon. what a legend. he IS the moment

i take ALL of that back WTF DO YOU MEAN ROSALIND IS GONNA DIE SOON

"Orion was willing to argue with a literal rock if he suspected it had insulted her in some manner." i am melting into a puddle of jelly. i need me a man like this

couples that hate a random old man together stay together~

NO FUCKING WAY ORION AND MARSHALL HAD A FLING ASKJCNAJAN

mars is so right because jealous benedikt IS adorable

JULIETTE POV it's been so long my beloved <3

anyway it's ice cream time bitches i finish this once i've had icecream. or maybe when i wake up idfk. i don't want this to be OVER but i NEED to know how it ends. this is the real violent end fr

[purghhappenings]

Hello from Spain! I just wanted to tell you I love all Poly! Hats you have written . I have just read all of it.😍 I was wondering if you would write some hc about zoro and luffy or zoro and law. Thank you♥️♥️♥️

Hello!!! I’m so happy you like poly!hats! I’ll give you HCs about Zoro and Law AND Zoro and Luffy!!!

ZoroXLaw

Goth bf meets bad boy bf and no I’m not telling you which one is which

Okay, so hear me out,,,, so many naps

They both like to drink widely different things which works because Law doesn’t like hard liquors but Zoro does so there’s no worry of “let me have a sip”

I don’t know which one is more stubborn but they’ve made each other late because of it

Zoro drives better than law but gets lost more and law is the worse driver(he speeds so goddamn much)

At first Zoro and Law did not vibe because Law thought Zoro and Luffy were a thing and Zoro thought Law was interested into Luffy but it was Luffy who was like “yo y’all are dumb”

A screaming match is how they got together which is wild to everyone because Law doesn’t look like he’d scream and Zoro never gives a shit enough to scream so how??(it was over Zoro getting them lost and law screamed “god if you weren’t so fucking hot I’d kill you!” And Zoro was like “well if I’m so fucking hot why haven’t we been on a date?!”) and the rest is history

Salty man realizes his true love is with a man just as petty as he is, more at 9

Aesthetically Law wins but muscle wise???? Law does everytime Zoro works out

In a modern AU law goes to a gym and pretty much stalks Zoro for a while before realizing “oh shit that’s luffys bff”

Thankfully Law is a surgeon because Zoro is just constantly getting injured

Zoros a bottom unless law pushes his buttons pass it on

Zoro and Luffy!!!!

Sunshine meets mortal man and he doesn’t know how to handle it

They are somehow always touching

Very competitive over dumb shit like “bet I can eat more Mac and cheese” “you’re on but we have to add wasabi” “D E A L”

If Zoro can survive Luffys crazy family he literally knows he can survive anything

In a modern au they met in highschool and just instantly clicked (ok so Luffy jumped into a fight because it looked fun and Zoro was like ??? Sunshine??? My sunshine???)

So, when they’re together their chaotic energy is so intense other people get dragged into it(read: law, sanji, usopp, Franky, penguin and robin)

Nami is usually the adult

They both are the photo of “I’m doing a crime” and the other person screams “yes!!!”

Luffy doesn’t like to work out but he likes to be in the room where it happens(yes that’s a Hamilton reference)

Game night theyre on the same team which is either really good if it’s about dumb things but when it’s actual facts they’re both so dumb Law is usually on their team out of pity(read: got wrestled into it physically)

Zoro is very used to carrying Luffy around like a backpack and or a piece of luggage

It was sure a day in Zoros life where he realized Luffy was strong and could lift Zoro

THANKS SO MUCH! Hope you enjoyed these! I haven’t written HCs in so long I forgot how much I loved them!!

[scaryscarecrows]

Roots and Leaves, Pt. 5

Jason ends up making a new, not-dorky e-mail to get a hold of Sheila. He’s got two, it’s not that, but one he knows Barbara (and therefore Bruce) monitors, and the other, well…look. Dick made it for him when he was a kid, and…Dick…Dick is Dick. God help him, he thought ‘littlewing@gmail’ was a good idea and by the time Jason actually found out about it, it was too late to do anything.

Oh, well. Everyone hates their first e-mail address. And at least he didn’t come up with that, he had it thrust upon him. It’s something.

He makes a nice, unembarrassing, un-Bat-stalked e-mail and sends a generic ‘hey how are you’. And then promptly pretends to himself that he doesn’t remember doing that and goes to trawl Craigslist for any sketchy-looking ads. You’d think these people would learn that there’s at least a sixty-forty shot of a cop or worse answering, but whatever.

So far, there’s not much-lotta people lookin’ for a dom-oh. Ohhh, that movie came out last weekend, didn’t it. That explains so much.

He clicks back out and channel-surfs for a bit instead, catches two seconds of a promo for something with a bloody clown and figures fuck it, he’s playing Mario Party even though it cheats worse than Penguin’s professional card players.

He’s getting absolutely wrecked by Goddamn Waluigi when his laptop announces that he’s got mail. He pauses-mid-Goddamn Waluigi gloating pose, how unfortunate-and pulls it over.

She has sent him a…it’s a…cat. She’s sent him a picture of a smiling cat. Is this a thing? Is this referencing something? Is she, perhaps, actually related to Dick?

He’s so confused.

Whatever. A quick Google search says that the cat is a thing. He responds with a piano-playing one and an inquiry about work before shutting off the Gamecube because fuck you, Waluigi.

Now what? He’s not good at this kinda thing, never was even…Before…but now? Haha forget it. He can muddle, a little, when people don’t know things but she knows something, clearly, because Batman tracked her down. She knows enough, and invariably there will be pity because nobody, including himself, knows what to say.

He wraps himself up in the blanket that lives on the couch and wishes somebody had written a manual for ‘how to live your best life after spending a year with a mad clown’. But to be fair, there can’t be that many people who lived to tell the tale.

Heh. There’s that one Gotham-based advice columnist, the one who’s there for the weirdoes with questions like ‘I have a hardcore crush on the Riddler, but I know I shouldn’t, please help me’. He could write to that…no, no, that wouldn’t end well. Some weird Joker cultist might come looking for him.

The computer dings again and he shoves a hand free from the blankets. Another cat, and a ‘thankfully slow day. This is his life now, apparently; communicating with his maybe-long-lost-mother through cat pictures. What a world.

He’s not gonna lie, though, the cats are cute and it’s…they’re a good buffer. They’re making this all a little less awkward.

As it turns out, he may come by his ‘God help the dumbasses’ honestly-Sheila has a biting sense of humor and he knows he shouldn’t laugh at the schmuck who got his dick wedged in a coconut, but…but…he’s sure that guy’s probably the same type to take a shortcut down a dark alley. Hell, for all he knows, he’s saved that exact guy from that exact situation.

Bruce would roll his eyes and rub his nose and say nothing. He was never very good at realizing that yeah, you gotta save people, but sometimes…sometimes they’re in that boat because they’re really fucking stupid.

Or at least, he never told Jason that.

It’s another hour, easy, of light back-and-forth before he makes himself send a ‘I gotta get some sleep, I got the night shift’, shuts the computer off, and burrows into his blanket. Bed’s too far away and he’s comfy here.

For once, he’s out cold in five minutes.

* * *

He lives to regret sleeping on the couch. When he wakes up, it’s late afternoon and he. Is. Stiff.

I regret my life choices.

Well. Most of them, anyway.

His computer informs him that Sheila sent him a ‘sweet dreams’ e-mail and, um. It’s. It’s been a while and he’s torn between being gobsmacked and feeling stupid for feeling all warm inside.

Catherine used to-well, when she was…healthy…-she used to read to him from an old, falling apart book of Greek myths. Looking back, she did some heavy on-the-fly editing, because it wasn’t until later that he found out that oh, Hercules killed his whole family, but she did it and after, she used to kiss his forehead and tell him the same thing. He tried to do it for her, later, but he was never really good at it and she never seemed to notice.

He did it anyway.

Stretching gets several nasty pops out of his spine and hips, but he can now move a little easier. He wants a smoothie.

He’s just finished making it when there’s a knock on his door and he frowns, tries to remember if he ordered anything recently. No…so…

It turns out to be Mz. Melinda May, armed with Snickerdoodles. Hell yes.

“Hey, Triple-M.”

“Hey, honey.” She shoves the plate at him. “I don’t trust you not to eat.”

“I do!” he protests, moving out of the way so she can come in. “I just made a smoothie! I made Jambalaya last night!”

That was a bad thing to say. She cocks an eyebrow at him and asks, voice deadly calm, “Did you put a splash of Tabasco in it?”

Shit. He knew he forgot something.

“No?”

“Boy, I told you once, I told you a hundred times…”

“I spaced! I got distracted by something outside!”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“I’m not staying, it’s my bridge night and those old bitches are going down in flames.” Some part of him is, and probably always will be, amused and terrified that she swears like that. “But you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Thanks for the cookies.”

“Hm.” She hobbles into the hall, muttering darkly to herself about, “No Tabasco…absolute disgrace…” and he shuts the door. Shower, then cookie.

…

No. Cookie first. So it doesn’t go stale or anything. Can’t be too careful, after all.

[welllpthisishappening]

Tripping Over the Blue Line (35/45)

It’s a transition. That’s what Emma’s calling it. She’s transitioning from one team to another, from one coast to another and she’s definitely not worried. Nope. She’s fine. Really. She’s promised Mary Margaret ten times already. So she got fired. Whatever. She’s fine, ready to settle into life with the New York Rangers. She’s got a job to do. And she doesn’t care about Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers. At all.

He’s done. One more season and he’s a free agent and he’s out. It’s win or nothing for Killian. He’s going to win a Stanley Cup and then he’s going to stop being the face of the franchise and he’s going to go play for some other garbage team where his name won’t be used as puns in New York Post headlines. That’s the plan. And Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations isn’t going to change that. At all.

They are both horrible liars.

Rating: Mature Content Warnings: Swearing, eventual hockey-type violence AN: Happy playoffs! Happy flirting in the hallway post-game! Happy it’s kind of obvious how much Laura hates the Pittsburgh Penguins! I am still just constantly stunned by you guys and how fantastic you are, but just know that I appreciate it a ridiculous amount. This story would be nothing without @laurnorder, @distant-rose & @beautiful-swan.  Also hanging out on Ao3, FF.net & tag’ed up on Tumblr. 

“Is there a reason you’re lurking in the corner?”

Killian’s head snapped up, smiling out of instinct as soon as he heard the question and the tone of her voice and Emma was staring at him incredulously, arms crossed over the front of yet another team-branded t-shirt.

“You’ve started quite a collection of my jerseys, Swan,” he pointed out, nodding towards the ‘C’ on her shoulder.

“This is a t-shirt.” “Semantics.”

Emma rolled her eyes and dropped onto the edge of the stool next to him, kicking her feet out slightly. “Come on, seriously. What’s the matter?” “Nothing’s the matter,” he said and it wasn’t a complete lie.

It wasn’t.

It was, just, as they say, all happening. And he was somewhere in the vicinity of excited and nervous and anxious and something that felt a bit like terrified – which was all kind of weird because Killian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been terrified of anything that had to do with hockey.

There’d never been quite so much riding on hockey either.

Emma’s lips twisted slightly and he could nearly hear the thought appearing in the back of her head, the flash of understanding in her eyes making him fall in love with her just a little bit more. Maybe terrified wasn’t the right word.

Maybe determined was better.

“Did you send out season-ticket blasts?” Killian asked, already certain of the answer. He was certain she’d sent out the e-mails and the announcements and the Facebook video celebrating the Rangers’ clinched Wild Card spot as soon as the buzzer went off.

“Are you kidding me?” Emma countered. She kicked at his leg again and he groaned dramatically when the toe of her heel connected with his ankle.

“Jeez, careful, Swan.” “Come on, you’re honestly asking me about work? We’re supposed to be celebrating. Easy playoff path and all that stuff.” “Who’s saying easy?” “Every newspaper in the greater New York City area and Yahoo Sports.” “You’re reading Yahoo Sports?” “Aren’t you?” Killian shrugged and Emma scoffed, tracing her finger across the bar. Of course he was. He didn’t normally – ever since Liam had gotten hurt, he’d avoided media reports like some sort of athletic-themed plague – but in the last few weeks, since they’d been just on the cusp of clinching, he’d found himself actually searching out stories and links and playoff projections. It was like he was actually trying to torture himself.

There was no easy path.

This was the playoffs and the Cup and everything from here on out was a very distinct type of challenge, but he was that mix of emotions and determination and he kept reading everything he could get his hands on.

The coffee table in his apartment was like a shrine to the National Hockey League at this point, a mess of sports sections and copies of Sports Illustrated he’d forced Ruby to get for him.

“You know,” Emma said pointedly, nodding in Eric’s direction when he left a plate of onion rings in front of her. “You left your Daily News sports section sitting next to the bed this morning.” Her bed. In her apartment. Several blocks away from his.

Not that it was a problem – it wasn’t. Really.

He wasn’t a complete ass. Killian really did understand why she’d gotten her own apartment and he hadn’t really been considering some sort of joint living arrangement until Emma had explained that there wouldn’t be one and Mary Margaret’s mom-disappointment probably extended to him as well.

The last month had been a back-and-forth schedule of nights in his apartment and her apartment and wrapping up the regular season and it was no wonder he’d left the sports section of a New York daily next to her bed because he could hardly remember where he had to be later that night, let alone putting a few sheets of newspaper back in his bag.

“If you were trying to make sure I didn’t find that story about what happens if you don’t win a Cup, you weren’t doing a very good job,” Emma continued, whispering the last few words so as not to draw the ire of an entire hockey team.

That got him to smile again.

“It was more just forgetting I’d left it there than any sort of overly dramatic attempt to get you to notice me,” Killian laughed.

His thumb traced over the bend of her knee and it wasn’t lost on him that they were back where they’d started – tucked into the corner of the restaurant with a very loud, very excited, team a few feet away and he didn’t care about any of them.

He kept staring at her.

It was the same spot as the set-up, but it couldn’t have been more different and he would have trekked back and forth between her apartment and his for the rest of the foreseeable future to ensure that Emma Swan kept looking at him like he was the best goddamn player in the league.

“That kind of seems like a problem,” Emma said. “Can’t score goals if you’re all distracted like that.” “Not distracted. Focused.” “On forgetting newspapers or what the newspapers are saying?” Killian’s thumb stopped moving and he gripped her knee a bit tighter. “I totally read the story,” Emma continued, tilting her head to the side as she ripped an onion ring apart.

He’d lost track of the number of times he’d read the story or the number of times Regina had told him about the story and, eventually, someone was going to just let him play hockey, right? He hoped so.

That might make this easier.

Emma leaned forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the stool and Killian’s hand moved to her waist out of instinct. “Jeez, Jones, relax,” she mumbled.

“I’m just making sure Eric doesn’t have to deal with cleaning up after you when you kill yourself from falling off this stool.”

She groaned, but she didn’t actually move his hand and the smile was still tugging on the edge of her lips when she sat up straight. The story was in her hand. “I think I’ve read it like a dozen times today,” Emma mumbled. “You’d look good on TV.” “Yeah, that’s what Regina keeps saying.” “Doesn’t surprise me at all.” It didn’t surprise him either – Regina’s promises that this was something to consider and, well, he’d already told the Av’s no and there was no guarantee any other team would sign him if the Rangers didn’t and they might have a playoff spot, but Wild Card wasn’t easy and...the list went on and on.

He could probably recite it verbatim at this point.

“The story seems to think you’d make several zeroes worth of money for your very attractive face,” Emma said and he didn’t think he imagined the way she leaned toward him, knee brushing against his and hand landing on the top of his pants.

Killian quirked one eyebrow and a slightly embarrassed Emma – the one who blushed just a bit when she’d been caught calling her boyfriend attractive – was something he was far more interested in than he realized.

“You telling me you think the TV people only want me for my face, Swan?” Killian asked, propping his elbow up on the bar and resting his chin on his hand.

She rolled her eyes. “I said no such thing.” “You did. You just said the story claimed I’d get several zeroes for my very attractive face.” “Slip of the tongue.” He widened his eyes and he was certain Emma’s face was nearly as red as the highlights in Ruby’s hair. “Oh my God,” she sighed. “Shut up.” “Your words, not mine.” She was quiet for a moment, lips pressed together tightly and Killian knew she was thinking exactly what he was – it was a good offer, it was a lot of zeroes, it kept him in New York no matter what happened this season.

His attractive face would, probably, look pretty damn good on TV.

“You don’t know that someone else wouldn’t offer after the run,” Emma whispered. “And this is the only time I’ve seen this story.” “It’s definitely true,” Killian said. “Gina thinks it’s some kind of fantastic back-up plan.” “Isn’t it?” He shrugged. It was. It made as much sense as Emma getting her own apartment.

Be prepared. Or something.

He didn’t want that. He wanted to win a fucking Stanley Cup. He wanted this to work. He wanted Emma to move into his apartment more than he’d been willing to admit to himself in the last month.

Emma narrowed her eyes and he’d never actually answered her question. He didn’t really get the chance – attacked, as per usual, by a seven-year-old whirlwind, decked out in head-to-toe blue and one of the fansite shirts that claimed the Rangers weren’t interested in easy victories.

“Hook,” Roland shouted, arms already thrust into the air so he could get pulled up onto the edge of the bar. “Oh, are those onion rings?” Emma laughed softly and for half a moment Killian forgot about the story and the playoff run and anything that wasn’t that sound and the look on her face when she tugged Roland towards her. “Come on, Rol,” she huffed and at least the kid tried to help her, pushing up on the balls of his feet before climbing up onto the bar himself. Eric only looked vaguely scandalized.

“Thanks,” Roland mumbled, mouth half stuffed with onion rings already.

“Slow down,” Killian said, tugging Roland’s hand away from the plate. He’d already eaten half the onion rings. “You’re going to choke and then Gina will kill me.” Roland shook his head and for a recently-turned-seven-year-old, he was deceptively strong, yanking his arm out of Killian’s grip. “Nah, she’s busy.” “Is she on the phone again?”

If Regina was talking to people without telling him again, Killian was going to break something. Or maybe throw something. Or maybe get two minutes on purpose in the season finale the next night. Probably not the last one.

Arthur would make him skate sprints if he did that.

“Not about TV,” Roland said seriously and Killian was momentarily stunned at that. Emma tried to turn her laughter into a cough.

“What about then?” “Henry.” “Henry?” Killian repeated and Emma’s eyes got impossibly wide. He glanced up, meeting her slightly stunned stare with one of his own.

Henry was, in fact, sitting a few feet away, legs stretched out at one of the tables in the corner of the restaurant with his arms crossed over his chest and he looked every inch like he belonged there, wearing his own playoff shirt and a smile that Killian was certain would never actually leave his face.

“What’s going on?” Killian asked, not sure if he was talking to Roland or Emma.

She bit her lip and he resisted the urge to mutter open book at her when Roland started babbling excitedly while trying to devour seven onion rings at once.

“He’s going to move in while you guys are in Montreal and Gina’s trying to make sure the house gives him all his stuff and he doesn’t have any stuff, not really, that’s what he told me, but Gina keeps calling and she’s using that serious voice she used when she talked about you going away, Hook and I asked Henry if that made him my brother and…”

Emma breath audibly caught and she was blinking quickly enough that Killian’s hand found hers almost immediately.

“Wait,” Killian interrupted and Roland froze with an onion ring halfway to his mouth. “Brother? What are you talking about?” Roland’s eyes got as large as Emma’s and his gaze darted between the two of them. He dropped the onion ring on his pants.

“Robin didn’t tell you,” Emma said. It wasn’t a question.

“He told you?” Killian asked.

“No, no, Henry did.” “When?” “A couple weeks ago.” Killian’s mouth hung open and Emma’s lips had all but disappeared behind her teeth, something in her expression that looked like an apology. “But it’s not final yet. They were still in paperwork then. It probably isn’t still. That stuff takes some time.” “Paperwork?” “I’d imagine there’s a lot of it if you’re going to adopt a kid.”

He’d been holding his breath. He hadn’t realized. And, somewhere in the back of his mind it made sense – everything about this whole night made sense – but it all hit a bit too close to home and no one had told him anything.

Old habits coming back to haunt or taunt or just be particularly annoying at the start of some kind of career-defining playoff run.

Killian ran his hand through his hair, desperate not to meet Emma’s worried gaze and this was what he’d been trying to avoid in New York in the first place. This was why he hadn’t wanted to come to that party all those months ago, the family that wasn’t quite his family and everything moving and changing and evolving around him.

And he just sat still.

“I thought Robin would have told you,” Emma muttered, squeezing his hand tightly. Oh, that was different.

Emma.

Emma was there now and she hadn’t let go of his hand and, well, Page Six wasn’t wrong. There was a reason he was staying in New York. And considering TV.

“Nah,” Killian shook his head. “You’re right though, probably didn’t want to jinx it or something.”

Roland looked distraught. “Dad didn’t tell you, Hook?” “It’s ok, Rol,” he promised, trying to take a deep breath. He smiled at the kid and tugged on the bottom of his t-shirt. “This is a good thing.” Roland beamed. “I’ve never had a brother before. And neither has dad and Gina doesn’t have any either and...” “And?” “And you and Uncle Liam are brothers.” Killian sat up a bit straighter, Emma’s hand gripping just a bit tighter than it had to. “That’s true.” “And you guys played hockey together and he taught you how to check somebody and, well, maybe Henry could teach me how to check somebody.” He hadn’t gotten enough sleep for this kind of conversation.

This was Robin territory. This was actual dad territory, not quasi-parental figure who let you eat more onion rings than you were supposed to as dictated by the Food and Drug Administration.

This wasn’t what Killian signed up for.

Roland, however, didn’t seem to care – eyes bright and expectations written on his face clear as day and Emma still hadn’t let go of Killian’s hand.

“You’d probably be the one doing most of the teaching in this case,” KIllian said, eyes flashing towards Emma. “Henry doesn’t really even know how to skate.” “What?” Roland shouted and he moved so quickly, he nearly flew off the edge of the bar. Emma only managed to save the plate of onion rings from crashing onto the floor. “We’ve got to fix that, Hook! How come he doesn’t know how to skate?” It was if the idea of not knowing how to skate was the most scandalous thing that had ever crossed Roland’s mind. It might have been.

“Not everyone grows up with an entire hockey team around them, Rol,” Emma explained. “Some of us just kind of fall into it.” Killian might have squeezed her hand at that point. God, the playoffs needed to start. He needed some kind of consistency.

“Can we do that, Hook?” Roland continued, undeterred by Killian’s soft exclamation when he tried to jump back towards the floor again.

“Stop, you’re going to kill yourself,” he muttered, pushing a grumbling Roland back into the center of the bar. “And you’ll have to ask your dad and Gina. Maybe after the playoffs are over.” “After you guys win a Cup?” Killian grimaced, but didn’t say anything, something about ancient superstitions sitting on the tip of his tongue. It didn’t matter – Will yelled it from the other side of the restaurant.

“You know the rules, Rol,” Will shouted, arm slung over Belle’s shoulders. She almost looked embarrassed. “We don’t talk about that.” “But you guys are going to win,” Roland argued. He tried to push himself up again and Emma laughed when she pulled the onion ring plate completely out of harm’s way, eating the last one for good measure.

“Well, of course we are,” Killian said evenly. Roland sat back down. “But we just don’t talk about it. Bad form.” “Is there form for that kind of stuff?” Emma asked. “Or just ancient athletic superstitions?” “Bit of column A, bit of column B?” “Yuh huh.” “And Henry said he’s going to wear your jersey during the run too, Hook,” Roland continued, seemingly undeterred by whatever Scarlet was still complaining about from the other side of the restaurant. “And once he gets his stuff in his room, Gina said we could get sticks and put them on the wall.” The whole restaurant froze – or at least the front line. Scarlet, at least, stopped yelling.

“Well, there went the secret,” Emma muttered. Killian shook his head.

Robin and Regina sprinted towards the corner of the bar, matching looks of dread on their faces when they skidded to a stop in front of Killian.

“It’s fine,” Killian promised. “Some would go so far as to say good.” Regina didn’t look convinced. She almost looked mad when she noticed the empty plate a few feet away from Roland. Robin looked a little nervous.

“You think?” he muttered, hands stuffed into his pockets as he rocked back on his heels.

Killian glanced at Emma again – and there was some kind of deeper meaning to that, that also might have been based in not-quite-reasonable superstitions, some kind of good luck charm or the force behind everything – and she barely moved her head when she nodded, smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

“I know,” Killian said. “When did you guys decide to do this though?” “You really want to know?” “Why wouldn’t I?” Robin made some kind of noise in the back of his throat and Killian knew the answer to that question – because he’d been busy lying to everyone about going to Colorado and running away from every ounce of family that had ever existed in New York and turning down a considerable number of zeroes.

“Yeah, well,” Killian started, “that’s different now.” “Yeah?”

Emma was blushing again. It was lighter that time, just spots of red on her cheeks and eyes trained on Roland and Regina and Mary Margaret had showed up at some point, probably responding to some kind of Emma sense that just knew when there was something potentially emotional about to happen.

“I guess so,” Robin said, answering his own question as soon as he looked at Killian.

“If you’re going to get sentimental on me Locksley, I swear, I’m going to leave.” “Nah, that’s a waste of time when you’re there already.” Killian scoffed and there was a small crowd around them now – Scarlet and Belle and Henry had his own stool and even David had moved as well, hand landing protectively on Emma’s shoulder like it was a flashing neon sign regarding sentimentality.

“And since the break,” Regina said suddenly, not even turning to look at Killian when she spoke. “No one wanted to tell you because you were being stupid.”

“Always so good with words, Gina,” Killian mumbled.

“Stop feeding my kid an obscene amount of onion rings and I’ll be nicer to you.” “Ah, but now you’ve just set yourself up for even more disappointment, because you’ve got two kids and that’s just more onion rings to spread around.” She did turn around at that, eyes narrowed and glare plastered on her face and Killian smiled in response. “I wish you’d left when the Av’s offered,” she said, but the words didn’t quite ring true.

“That’s just rude.” “Control the onion rings then.”

“Big job.” Regina groaned, but there was almost a smile on her face and Killian felt something settle in the very center of him – or maybe resettle. Like he’d found something all over again.

Emma moved off the stool, squeezing Henry’s arm once, before she took a few steps towards him, fingers finding the back of his hair and Killian’s hand was around her waist before he could stop himself, pulling her closer to his side.

Maybe he’d consider TV. Maybe it was good to be prepared.

Maybe he was hedging his bets to keep Emma pulled up against his side.

“Will you two stop arguing,” Ariel hissed, cutting into the conversation with practiced ease. Eric sputtered when she moved behind the bar, grabbing the remote out of his hand and Killian was a mix of impressed and vaguely intimidated. “Some of us are trying to see how this all shapes up.” She changed the channel and the restaurant went silent again – a dozen pairs of eyes trained on the TV screen and the Penguins game and she’d timed it almost perfectly because there were only a few minutes left.

“That was impressive, Red,” Killian said and she just stuck her tongue out at him.

“Shut up and watch the game. And then show up on time for PT tomorrow.” “Are you not showing up on time for PT?” Emma asked sharply, pushing on his shoulder like that would get him to follow the final-day-of-the-regular-season-schedule he was all too aware she had.

“She’s making that up, Swan,” Killian answered. “I was no less than two minutes late for PT yesterday and I made a fist, at least, a dozen times. She’s just greedy.” “I am doing my job,” Ariel argued, still staring at the TV. The whole group groaned when some third-liner scored an empty-net goal for the Penguins. “Ah, there it is.” Emma slumped against his side and Killian, head resting on his shoulder and, Ariel was right. There it was.

The Pens won the President’s Trophy.

“God, I hate them all,” Will mumbled and Belle clicked her tongue in reproach as a line of gold and black skated to center ice and the obligatory post-game celebration.

“Why are we watching this, exactly?” Robin asked. “We knew they were going to clinch tonight.” “Well, to be fair, they could have done it tomorrow,” Killian said, trying not to actually sigh too loudly when they brought the trophy out onto the ice to the sounds of a crowd that had, just recently, won a Stanley Cup. “God, this is depressing.” “Which brings me back to my original question.” Ariel huffed loudly, rolling her eyes as if she couldn’t quite believe any of them were still talking. “Are you guys serious? This is motivation!”

“I don’t think we really need that,” Killian said.

“Wild. Card.” “Which seems like plenty of motivation to begin with.”

“Ugh.” “Did you just say the word ugh out loud? That’s your argument right now?” “Show up to PT on time, Killian!”

He laughed softly, hand still lingering on Emma’s waist and she’d started tugging on the front of his jacket like it was an old habit she couldn't quite shake. “You’re going to drive her insane, you know.” “Nah, she’s used to it by now.” Ariel stuck her tongue out at him again, but Killian barely registered it, eyes flashing up to the screen when the crowd started to cheer again and a collective ooooh moved across the restaurant.

“Oh, well, they’re totally fucked now,” Will said, immediately chastised by everyone over the age of twelve. “Right, right, sorry, we’re a family team.” “That’s bad luck,” Robin muttered and Killian was somewhere in the realm of almost hysterical at this point, head thrown back as soon as Soyer’s hands landed on the trophy.

“See, Red,” he said, nodding towards the TV as the entire Penguins roster passed the President’s Trophy down the line. Some of them kissed it. “We don’t need any motivation. Not when they’ve already broken the rules.”

She didn’t argue immediately – and that felt a bit like a step in the right direction. “I can’t believe they touched it.”

“Too confident.” “You think?” Killian shrugged. “Certainly looks that way, doesn’t it?” “What a bunch of idiots,” Emma mumbled. “Look at them. They’re all posing with it like they’ve already won the Cup.” “This anti-Pittsburgh side of you is fun, Swan. I like it. Keep going.” Emma yanked on his zipper again and he fell forward dramatically, huffing out the air in his lungs like he’d been punched. “They’re not going to win again,” she said and Killian nearly forgot there was an entire hockey team standing behind them.

“Of course not.”

“Plus,” Will added, nearly pushing his hand in between Killian and Emma. “We’ve got to win so Cap doesn’t get screwed over by the entire franchise.” “The soul of tact, Scarlet.”

Will hummed in the back of his throat, grunting slightly when Robin hit against the back of his head. “What? I mean that’s true, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, Scarlet,” Emma said and it sounded a bit like a threat. Her hand was flat on Killian’s chest, eyes tracing across his face like she was waiting for the blow-up in the middle of the restaurant. It wasn’t going to happen.

“We should toast,” David said suddenly and, it appeared, a bit out of his own control as Mary Margaret pushed him a step closer to Emma again. “Um, I mean, well you guys did it at the start of the regular season, right? We should do it again. For symmetry.” “Nice save,” she muttered.

“That’s a good idea,” Robin agreed, nodding towards an expectant Eric behind the bar. He handed out glasses and alcohol and soda and cleared his throat when David didn’t immediately start talking. “Your move, Detective.” “Oh, oh, right,” he sputtered. “Well, there’s no sense in talking about how long we’ve all waited for a run like this or a team like this. Everything is there and not just because that’s what the reports say. Because you guys, and well, all of us, are certain of it. No extra motivation needed. To the postseason.”

“To the postseason.”

The alcohol burned the back of his throat and landed in the pit of his stomach with an almost audible thump, but Emma hadn’t ever moved, head back on his shoulder and shot glass in her own hand and that very specific type of smile on her face.

That was more than enough motivation.

The first three games hadn’t been particularly easy.

He wouldn’t say that. This was the playoffs – nothing was easy. It was do or die and every sports cliché Mrs. Vankald could come up with was one-hundred percent true in situations like these.

There were no easy games, no easy shifts, every single hit hurt just a bit more and the bruises on his left hand were a testament to that.

It wasn’t easy. Hell, they’d nearly lost game three and Arthur’s whiteboard casualties were starting to get even more violent now, hitting them up against the boards and using them even after he’d cracked them, the lines tracing across them making it difficult to actually work out the plays he was trying to draw up.

The game’s hadn’t been perfect and Killian’s hand was black and blue and he hadn’t actually scored in the series, but he woke up with hair in his face and a smile on his lips and they could clinch that night.

He shifted slightly, breathing in slowly and maybe that had been a mistake because he breathed in more hair than he’d been entirely ready for and his whole body shook when he started coughing and Emma grumbled when she woke up.

“God, what are you doing?” she asked, voice scratchy from sleep and fingers splayed across his hip.

“Trying not to suffocate on your hair.” She scoffed and opened one eye, keeping the other squeezed shut and that might have made it even more difficult to breathe. Or it might have been the team-branded she was wearing, oversized t-shirt and not much else, legs twisted up with his and there’d been no conversation about coming back to her apartment after another home win, just an expectant smile on her face when he slung his arm around her shoulders in the back corner of the restaurant.

“Did you know that the reason they call the Canadiens the Habs is because of Madison Square Garden?” Emma asked.

“What?”

She nodded. “Yup. Tex Rickard, who owned the Garden in 1920-something, said the ‘H’ on the jerseys stood for Habitants. He was probably an idiot, but Habitants, Habs, it stuck.” “And why was he an idiot exactly?” “It stood for hockey.” “Ah, well, obviously.”

Emma grinned, pushing her hair back behind her ear and she did something with her eyebrows – or at least tried. Killian was paying more attention to whatever it was her fingers were doing, tracing out a circle with her thumb and she laughed when his breath actually caught, shoulders rolling back into the mattress.

“You know,” she said slowly, hand still moving and he wouldn’t have moved even if he wanted to. He didn’t want to. “You can clinch tonight.” “A fact I’m very much aware of, Swan.”

“Step forward and all that.”

“Also true.” “The tabs will have a field day if you sweep.”

“When,” Killian said instinctively and he wasn’t certain when he’d started being so positive, probably somewhere around the time the tips of Emma’s fingers found their way underneath the edge of his boxers.

He must have let out some kind of strangled Swan because she actually laughed, teeth tugging on her lower lip and that wasn’t even fair.

“Ah, that’s true,” she amended and he moved immediately as soon as she started pulling on fabric. “I just didn’t want to jinx it.” “You couldn’t do that, Swan.”

The words kind of felt like they were choking him, not quite as easy as the three games they’d won already and it was absolutely because of the look on her face and the feel of her next to him and if they did clinch that night, then Killian was half certain it was only because of how desperate he was to stay in this moment.

“I thought there were rules,” she challenged. “God, you’ve got to take these off.” “What are you trying to do exactly?” He knew exactly what she was trying to do – was halfway on his way to ensuring that she got to do it several times before either one of them had to get on the downtown one.

“Have I not made that clear?” “You’re not exactly talking, Swan. Except for some very early-morning facts.” “That was just my lead-in, get you interested with pertinent hockey facts and then keep you appropriately distracted with...not hockey facts.” Killian chuckled, but it might have turned into a groan when Emma’s foot found its way in between his legs, trying to push boxers into blankets and there was absolutely no need for a lead-in.

He should have said that.

He’d lost the ability to think. Or speak. Or do anything that wasn’t kissing his girlfriend a few hours before they could clinch a berth to the next round.

Emma gasped softly when they moved, her back on the mattress and Killian hovering just above her and his hand worked its way up underneath the fabric of the shirt she still had on. He’d probably think about that sound for the rest of the day.

That would probably make morning skate weird.

And if these last three games had been some kind of easy sweep, then this was even more simple. This – over-eager mornings and hockey facts and not-hockey facts and waking up with hair in his face – was as simple as breathing or stick-handling in between two defenders.

That wasn’t quite as romantic as Killian had been hoping for.

It hadn’t been some kind of straight line to this, had hardly been the stringent blue line he’d been certain had shaped his entire career and what he was allowed. It had been a criss-cross of emotions and feelings and finding and if he’d been looking for some kind of family and some sort of home somewhere, then he was positive he’d found it in Emma Swan and that sound she kept making whenever his lips found hers.

Emma’s hips hit his and then he was the one making that noise, sighing against her mouth and the hands that kept holding onto him like they were trying to make sure he didn’t go anywhere.

Not anymore.

Not ever again.

Not for a ridiculous number of zeroes or even after she’d gotten her own apartment or whatever happened in the playoffs.

He wasn’t a fool.

He knew it wouldn’t always be easy and they might sweep, but there were still three more rounds and his hand would probably be perpetually bruised by the time all of this was over.

Killian didn’t care. And for the first time in his entire career, he was ready for all of it, no matter what happened at the end.

“You didn’t have to have a lead-in, you know,” he mumbled, tracing down her jaw and there were goosebumps on her skin. He smiled at that.

“No?” “No,” Killian promised. “Although I am consistently impressed by how many facts you just have at your disposal.”

His fingers traced along her thigh and he could hear Emma’s breathing pick up, smile inching across his face at that and he was some kind of reaction hoarder now because he was documenting every single one of them.

“Good, that’s...good to know,” she said and it came out a bit like a sigh when he moved his hand again. “Are you teasing on purpose or just because you’re the only one who actually took their clothes off?” “Swan, are you suggesting you’d like me to take your clothes off?” “You’re infuriating, you know that?” “I choose to see it as endearing. I seem to remember someone once saying it was charming. Too charming, if we want to get technical.” “I must have been delusional.” “Ah, somehow, I doubt that.” “So confident.” Killian hummed and Emma’s hips were moving again, chasing after exactly what she’d had planned with the lead-in and there was something to be said for waking up early if this was how it ended up. It seemed to end up like this more often than not.

He moved again, fingers tracing out patterns on the inside of her leg and he was only vaguely concerned with the amount of damage she was doing to her bottom lip. The rest of him was very focused on the way her chest kept moving, like she was trying to catch her breath and couldn’t quite get there.

He loved her an absolutely ridiculous amount.

“Killian,” Emma sighed, her grip on his hips tightening.

“What, Swan?” She tried to glare when he started smirking at her, eyebrows moving quickly and hand slowing until he was barely moving. “I’m afraid I don’t know what it is you want. Exactly.”

He swiped his tongue over his lips when her eyes met his and something flashed across her face at his words. It looked like determination.

Emma Swan knew what she wanted – always.

And it might have been him.

That made it difficult for Killian to breathe.

She grabbed his hand, fingers wrapping around his wrist and yanking him forward until he was balancing on one forearm so he didn’t fall on top of her.

“Still not being very descriptive, Swan,” Killian muttered and if this was some kind of game, he was almost enjoying himself too much.

“Visual learner,” she challenged, shifting again and he didn’t care about anything outside of that apartment when his hand moved in between her legs.

Killian groaned, determined not to actually collapse and Emma squeezed her eyes shut and if he didn’t love her more than anything then it was the biggest lie he’d ever tried to tell himself.

He lost track of time at some point, far too focused on everything else and that database of sounds he was, apparently, collecting. And he might have mumbled a handful of promises in her ear, everything he’d been thinking for the last month, but had never been willing to give credence to.

She didn’t say anything back, just kept her hands on his back and fingers in his hair and when he, finally, moved again, she seemed to breathe him in and it was easy as that. It was as easy as breathing.

This made more sense than anything else ever had.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Emma asked later, head on his shoulder and arm flung over his stomach and he’d been tracing across the back of her hand without even realizing he was moving.

Killian lifted one eyebrow and she groaned, burying her face against his chest. “God, not that. Jeez.” “What do you want to talk about, Swan?” She tapped her fingers against his side for a few moments before answering and Killian couldn’t see her face, but he would have bet a fair amount of money he maybe didn’t have that she was biting her lip.

“TV,” Emma mumbled.

“No,” he said immediately and, perhaps, a bit sharper, than he’d intended. “I don’t.” “Oh.” He sighed and Emma propped her head up on her hand, staring at him expectantly and a bit more nervously than he would have wanted, all things considered. “It’s awfully greedy, don’t you think?” Killian asked and maybe this conversation would have been easier if they were in his apartment.

Home ice or whatever.

“What is?” Emma pressed.

“Wanting everything.” Her smile almost looked sad and for two people who were just a few hours away from moving on to the next round of the playoffs, this conversation had taken a decidedly negative turn. Maybe they should just start kissing some more.

That seemed like a distraction.

“That’s not true,” Emma said and there was a determination in her voice that caught Killian off guard. “No?” “No,” she repeated, shaking her head. Her hair almost hit him in the face again. “This team is...it doesn’t make any sense. You have a restaurant that you’ve claimed as your own and everyone knows everything about each other and, God, the Locksley's are going to adopt Henry. We should be featured on some sort of SportsCenter special.” “E60, definitely.” “A 30-for-30 at least. Multi-parter” Killian barked out a laugh and some of the tension that had taken up residence in his shoulders and his slightly bruised left hand dissipated at the look on her face. “You said we again,” he pointed out.

“Aren’t we? Like a mini team or something.” “As in you and me?” Killian asked, hand moving again and there were goosebumps on Emma’s arm.

“Yeah.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then no,” Emma said, smile wide and Killian would have sworn he could feel it settle into the very center of him in the middle of that bed. “That’s not greedy. You deserve this, Killian. A playoff run and a max deal and another picture on the side of the Garden. No one should have that more than you.” It wasn’t very often he didn’t know what to say – they’d been given media training after they got drafted and Killian could answer questions as easily as anything, even if he sometimes did his best to avoid him – but he wasn’t quite prepared for the certainty in Emma’s voice or the palm pressed flat against his chest like she was willing him to get her to believe him.

“Careful, Swan,” he mumbled, wrapping his hand around hers and dragging his lips over her knuckles. “That was bordering dangerously close to a compliment.” “Ah, well, maybe I’m just feeling generous. Make sure you’ve got some positive thoughts heading into a clincher.”

“I’m not going to take the TV deal.” “I know you’re not,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t expect you to.” “Why?” “Easy. You’re going to win a Stanley Cup.”

“I love you, you know that?” Emma nodded, smile still on her face and laughter ringing in his ears when he tugged her flush against him. “Weird, I wasn’t picking up on that at all.”

He kissed her and it wasn’t a distraction or even an attempt at a distraction, it was just that want he’d been talking about before and it would have been somewhere in the realm of perfect if the front door to her apartment didn’t swing open at the same time.

Emma yelped, eyes going wide and hand desperate for blankets and Mary Margaret looked like she was going to pass out.

“Oh my God,” she sputtered, face flushed and mouth hanging open. Killian laughed, but it turned into a groan when Emma smacked at his shoulder.

Mary Margaret appeared frozen.

“Jeez, Reese’s what are you doing?” Emma asked, blankets pulled up over her shoulders. “Didn’t we say noon?” “Yeah, yeah,” Mary Margaret said quickly. She was staring at the ceiling. “But it’s almost noon. I just figured…” “What?” “Shouldn’t you be at morning skate?” “I don’t have to be downtown until two,” Killian explained. “Morning skate is more mid-afternoon skate when you can clinch.” “Oh, yeah, that kind of makes sense.” “Kind of.” “Reese’s you’ve got to go back outside,” Emma implored and her face was red as well. Killian did his best not to laugh again.

“What? Why?” “Oh my God. C’mon Reese’s don’t make me actually spell it out for you.” Mary Margaret’s eyes, somehow, managed to get even wider and she nearly dropped whatever it was she was holding – what appeared to be several containers filled with food. She wavered for half a moment, eyes darting towards the refrigerator and Emma and back up to the ceiling and she nodded once before nearly sprinting out the door.

Killian laughed loudly as soon as she was gone, body shaking and Emma punched against his side. “You’re going to hurt me, Swan,” he said reasonably, grabbing her hand and grinning at her.

She huffed, falling back onto the mattress. “God,” Emma muttered. “She wasn’t supposed to be here until noon.” “Well, it is, apparently, almost noon.” “We had a schedule, though.” “Somehow I think we’ll survive. Is she just trying to feed you?”

Emma hummed, arm thrown over her face. “She thinks I’m starving. Something about having nothing in my fridge and I’ve got my own apartment, but no time to really make it mine. Just, you know, normal mom stuff.” “That’s not a bad thing, love.” “No, no, it’s not. And if she’d shown up at twelve it would have been totally fine.” “That embarrassed to have Mary Margaret see me?” Killian asked, pulling Emma’s arm away from her face. “I think she’s already aware we were doing this before.” She pressed her lips together and open book had never been more obvious. “What?”

“I wasn’t embarrassed by that.”

“What then?” “I’ve never brought anybody back,” she said quickly, refusing to meet his gaze. “I mean, you know, to my place or whatever. Reese’s did and David basically lived in our apartment in Boston and then, obviously, here. But when I was in Vancouver and LA, I didn’t do...this.” “This.” “Yeah. I had my space and they had their space and I was cool going to them, but not so much vice versa.” Words, it appeared, were becoming more and more difficult the longer Killian spent in that bed. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and made a noise in the back of her throat. “Anyway,” she said, trying to brush over his lack of response. “That’s why. She was probably just surprised you were here. We should probably get dressed though.”

She moved, half sitting up and Killian wrapped his fingers around her wrist, pulling her up short. “I’m glad I’m here,” he said and Emma’s eyes widened slightly.

“Yeah?” she whispered.

“Always.”

Emma nodded once. “Put some clothes on, Cap. We can’t afford to let Reese’s leave here totally scandalized.”

Mary Margaret hadn’t let him leave without, at least, taking ten minutes to eat and he’d have to tell El that someone else was giving her a run for her mom money. And morning skate was as easy as Killian had promised it would be, hardly anything more than taking a few shots at an empty net and Jefferson hadn’t even bothered putting on his pads.

They were going to win – Killian was certain and he was mostly just anxious for the game to be over so he could get back to his apartment or Emma’s apartment and wake up with hair in his face again.

He could hear the cheers already, the pregame noise and he shifted his weight between his skates, tapping the end of his stick on the floor.

“Relax,” Robin muttered a few feet behind him. “It’s going to be fine.” “I know,” Killian said easily, glancing over his shoulder. Robin looked the opposite of fine. “What’s the matter with you?” “Nothing.” “Locksley. You’re doing that thing with your eyes.” “That thing with my eyes?” “Yeah, like you’re trying to look in two different directions at once.” “That’s impossible.” “What’s the matter with you?” Will groaned loudly at the other end of the line and it sounded like he was hitting his stick up against the wall. “Are you two really going to do this now? Right now? They’re literally about to drop the puck.” “Well, to be fair,” Killian argued. “I have no idea what we’re doing because Locksley’s got that thing with his eyes.” “I hate that thing. It’s unnatural.” “See,” Killian said, staring at Robin and this couldn’t have been good for his neck.

Robin glared at him, but his shoulders sagged and they were, apparently, doing this right now. “You’re really ok with this?” “Clinching a first-round series? Yeah.” “That’s not what I meant.” “Be more specific then.” He took a deep breath and his gaze was heavy when it landed on Killian. “About Henry,” Robin sighed. “You’re really ok with that?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” “Cap. For real?” “Don’t blame him, Locksley,” Will shouted. “He’s been spending all that time at Emma’s apartment. His mind’s not totally focused on anything else.” “Shut up Scarlet,” Killian muttered, not looking away from Robin. “Seriously though. Why wouldn’t I be? This is a good thing.” Robin made a face. “No, no, it is. I just…” “You were running away before, Cap,” Will finished. “And you were all anti-this and all of us interfering and Locksley’s terrified his painfully adorable family is going to scare you off again.” Ah.

He really had almost fucked up everything.

Robin’s eyes were going to bore a hole in the Garden floor. “No,” Killian said. “It’s not.”

The music in the Garden was ridiculously loud and they’d already started Potvin sucks chants. It would have been impressive if Killian didn’t feel like he was waiting for something.

“We should probably buy Emma something,” Will said and it lacked his usual sarcasm. “Like a thank you or wait, what’s she always drinking? Hot chocolate, right?” “We could show up at her post-game thing,” Robin suggested and the lights at the end of the hallway were starting to flicker. They needed to get on the ice.

Killian wasn’t certain how anyone would expect him to skate after this.

“What do you think, Cap?” Will continued. “You think we’d start some sort of riot if we showed up at a fan event in midtown?” “I don’t think we’re that famous,” Killian said. He didn’t fall over when his skates hit the ice. That probably meant something. “And it’s during the game, anyway.” “Ah, well that’s dumb.” “I’ll be sure to mention that.” “Don’t be an ass.” “But you make it so easy.”

Will grumbled, skidding to a stop next to him on the blue line and Robin was still staring at him like he’d never quite seen him before – it probably had something to do with the smile practically plastered on Killian’s face at this point.

“You’re right, you know,” Robin muttered.

“About?” “This is good.” Killian didn’t answer – notes of the anthem filling the arena, but he didn’t stop smiling either.

They won.

A series sweep in the first-round and a 2-1 victory and Scarlet would probably never stop talking about his game-winner. There were cameras everywhere and reporters and phones pushed in faces, all of them a bit desperate to get thoughts on the win and who they’d face next and whether or not they heard the Penguins had won that night too.

They had. The reporters made sure they had.  

“It was just all instinct,” Will said, grinning into half a dozen cameras with that stupid hat on his head and it was all so different than it had been a year before.

Killian rolled his eyes when Will kept talking about reading a defense and how he knew his shot would come if he waited for it and Robin didn’t even try and mask his laughter. “Idiot,” Killian mumbled.

“He hasn’t had a game-winner all season,” Robin reasoned. “Leave him alone.” “Sure thing, Dad.” They were definitely breaking some kind of fire code, bodies packed into the locker room and there was barely enough room to move, let alone hear anything, but it would have been impossible to mistake the voice shouting for both Killian and Robin when she marched towards them.

“Ten-hut or whatever,” Ruby said, arms already crossed like she was ready for a fight. “Time for your post-game reaction.” “We did post already, Lucas,” Robin countered.

“Fan videos. Emma’s in the hallway where it’s at least, kind of, quieter. And you guys can talk about how psyched you are for the next series and how great Scarlet’s goal was.” “I’m not talking about Scarlet’s goal,” Killian said immediately, already halfway out the door.

“Too bad. Game-winner is a game-winner. Talk about it, Cap. And, speaking of talking, any reviews on Mary Margaret’s macaroni and cheese?”

“You know gossipping is a very unattractive habit.” “Luckily you don’t have to be attracted to me. Go help your girlfriend do her job.”

Killian saluted and Ruby made a face, heels echoing behind him as he made his way down the hallway.

The team-merch from that morning was now a dress and a blazer and Killian was only vaguely frustrated by Ruby’s gaze flitting between him and Emma, that expectant smile on her face like she was about to take credit for even the idea of them being happy. Emma’s head snapped up when she heard them, eyebrows pulled low and she tugged her hair over her shoulder.

“You’re not Scarlet,” she said.

“That’s true,” Killian agreed. “Should I be?” “Well he did score the game-winner. Fans were kind of clamoring for him. You guys’ll work though. Just, you know, talk about Scarlet’s goal. That’s all people care about.” “God, don’t tell him that, he’ll never shut up about it. How’d your in-game stuff go?” “Good,” Emma said, taking a step towards him and Ruby made some kind of gagging noise when her hands pulled on the front of his shirt. “Ridiculously good actually. I think Rol’s a bad influence on Henry now, by the way.” “What, why?” “They’ve fine-tuned some kind of round-robin cheer that incorporates both the goal song and Let’s go Rangers and it’s both the most adorable and annoying thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.” “It’s definitely annoying,” Robin muttered, feet crossed at the ankles as he leaned back against the wall. “They were practicing the entire car ride home last night.” Emma laughed softly and something felt like it stuttered in Killian’s chest or maybe in his pulse. “They going to let you go to Boston?” he asked, fingers lacing through Emma’s.

“Yeah, actually. Since it’s so close. I won’t be able to go to the Garden, which kind of sucks, but we’ll do some Rangerstown stuff when you guys are there.” “She’s been e-mailing some hotel bar since the second intermission,” Ruby added and there was no mistaking the pride in her voice.

“Second intermission, Swan?” Killian asked. “We weren’t winning yet.” She clicked her tongue. “Film your post-game thing, Jones.” “You know, love, I think this is what some people would call evading the question.” “Was there a question?” “You started making phone calls to a hotel during intermission. Before Scarlet’s game winner.” “Just being prepared,” Emma muttered, nodding towards a Rangers backdrop he hadn’t noticed before.

“Good at your job.”

“Was that a compliment, Captain?”

Her eyes flashed up to him and the smile on her face was enough to warrant turning down all those zeroes – from TV and other teams and this was the year. It had to be. Killian took a step towards her and he could feel the turn of her lips when he kissed her, hand tight on her waist as she moved her arms around his neck.

They might have been there for days or weeks and maybe they’d won the Cup already. Ruby coughed loudly and Robin laughed under his breath when they finally moved apart.

“God, don’t come to Boston, Emma,” Ruby sighed. “This is gross.” “The worst,” Emma laughed, twisting when Killian kissed the top of her head. “Come on, film your stuff and then we can go eat, I’m starving.”

The video went out to fans just a few minutes after they filmed and there were more reporter questions and desperate cries about deadlines and Killian walked out of the arena with a smile still plastered on his face and Emma’s hand tied up in his.

And it was good and perfect and everything it hadn’t been at the same time last year – or it would have been if either one of them had noticed the cameras.

[thedisneywitch]

Fantasia 2000 Commentary

So I’ve been feeling super nostalgic for a while, and Fantasia 2000 was The Movie™ of my childhood. I asked Snouter if they had seen it, and they said they saw the original Fantasia, but the sequel. So I decided to change that! Snouter liked the original Fantasia, and they said I could share their “witty, insightful” commentary” on the internets. So here we go:

<i>Symphony No 5</i>

Those butterflies look like papier-mâche

Woah, seizure.

Holy shit that evil butterfly [bat] just ate that guy’s wing!

So like does he catch up or? Ok I guess.

<i>Pines of Rome</i>

Aww they’re so cute

Um. I’m sorry, what? Are they FLYING?!

Ok no what is happening

Oh nooo the baby got separated

There are more? And—they can all fly. Of course.

Why lightning? And—How are they surfacing again? WHAT?!

<i>Rhapsody in Blue</i>

That’s some Etch-A-Sketch shit right here.

Ok so this IS New York City. I thought it was Chicago.

That poor guy got yelled at for nothing.

Ha, ha, shopping with the wife sure does SUCK!

Oh, they’re all sad.

Those parents are the fastest goddamn sprinters I’ve ever seen in my life. Holy shit.

Damn, this was great.

<i>Piano Concerto No 2, Allegro, Opus 102</i>

Wow, that jack-in-the-box is a dick. SHE’S CLEARLY NOT INTERESTED IN YOU, LEAVE HER ALONE.

The ballerina looks like Belle.

For a fucking toy, that soldier is STRONG.

Oh noo, he fell.

You LIKED this as a kid? These rats are scary as hell!

Deus-ex-machina.

HOOOOLY SHIIIIIIIT! HE JUST FUCKING DIED! WHAT THE FUCK (continues screaming for the rest of the sequence)

<i>The Carnival of the Animals</i>

They’re so in sync.

Ha, I love the weird one.

Omg, the anger on his face. Same.

I love that he’s just fucking with them like this.

Where did the other yo-yo’s come from? Where did he get the first one in the first place?

<i>The Sorcerer’s Apprentice</i>

Did they remaster this? [Yes.] Thought so. It looks cleaner. [It sure does. Colors aren’t as grainy.] Yeah.

I mean, he doesn’t wanna do chores. I don’t blame him.

Bad idea.

He falls asleep pretty quickly. Like, damn.

Ok, but is Mickey Mouse God? Because he can control the stars/skies, weather, the ocean, and create life. I think Mickey Mouse is God. [I reminded them that that sequence was a dream, but I couldn’t argue with the “creating life” point].

I still can’t believe he’s an axe murderer.

Will you stop singing along? Seriously.

Ok so Yen Sid is God.

<i>Pomp and Circumstance</i>

That scream though.

Ah, yes. The presence of eyelashes will convey to everyone that this is a heterosexual hippo couple.

I’m sorry, did those birds JUST COME OUT OF THOSE RHINO’S EARS?!

Why did Donald panic when Noah showed up? He never even wears pants! Also, he was sunbathing NUDE!

Ha, ha, show the mythical animals laughing before they die to please the Chris/tians.

Oh, this is sad. Damn.

ARE THOSE PENGUINS WEARING SUNGLASSES IN BIBLICAL TIMES?!

DID ALL OF THE WATER JUST—WHERE DID IT GO?! AND HOW ARE THERE PLANTS LIVING UNDERNEATH?

WHERE DID THOSE CRABS COME FROM? They weren’t on the boat! Make up your mind!

Also, that was NOT 40 days and 40 nights. This was like 12 hours.

Aww, they reunited. That was sweet.

THAT RAINBOW IS GAY! TAKE THAT, CHRIS/TIANS!

<i>The Firebird Suite</i>

We get it, you vape.

Why was that flower not good enough for her?

Why does she suddenly have legs? Is this The Little Mermaid?

Bad idea. Hoe don’t do it—

HOOOOOOOOOO(E). THAT SCARED ME.

This is like Bambi. Also, I see the Te Fiti/Te Kā parallel.

Oh, shit.

Oh she dead.

We get it, you vape, but now is really not the time.

She looks like polyp Ariel.

I thought she was green? Why is she blue? [Because she has to rain to bring life back!] Oh.

Is she... dead? Why is she leaving him? Also, his antlers are HUGE. He looks like he should be falling over.

They say they give the movie an 8/10, and liked the original better. Either way, it was still super fun to watch it with them!

[brianjaeger]

2019 Academy Award Best Picture Nominees Guide For Those Who Haven’t Actually Watched Them

It’s the 91st time Hollywood comes together to pat themselves on the back and this year marks the 5th time I’m bringing you the rundown of every Best Picture nominee so that you aren’t the “goddamn idiot” someone at your Oscars party is referring to when they ask, “Who invited this goddamn idiot?” Only, as in 2018, 2017, 2016, 2015 and 2014  (check out the hyperlinks for previous years’ rundowns - and likely some jokes that don’t age very well) - this is all based on the name of the film, the poster for the movie, or things I’ve heard while flipping past Extra or E! So take it all in and enjoy my tips on things to say to other guests so that your party has an ending that is more like Ally’s and less like Jackson’s!

Black Panther

After Creed loses in embarrassing fashion to Ivan Drago’s son, he tats up, grows that hair out, and heads to outer space. After landing on a planet right between the planet from Avatar and Naboo, pissy Creed picks a fight with a space prince who was bit by a radioactive space panther in the movie that had audiences saying, “I bet Forest Whitaker is in this movie. How is Forest Whitaker not in this movie? I’m honestly shocked that Forest Whitaker is not...oh, yup, there he is.”

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

A little insider Easter egg here - Wakanda backwards spells Adnakaw, which happens to be the name of Thor and Loki’s OTHER brother who is going to save everyone in Avengers: Endgame. He’ll be played by...Forest Whitaker.

In a deleted scene, Black Panther’s brother, The Pink Panther, visits to check out the Wakandan castle’s attic and then installs fiberglass insulation.

Spike Lee really turned the super hero movie genre on its head with this didn’t he? (Pause.) Oh. That was...um...oh, well um... (Slowly walk backward out of the room and do not return.)

BlacKkKlansman

The Chapelle’s Show’s first skit-to-feature length film gives the big screen treatment to the story of Clayton Bigsby. Based on the success of this film, 2019 also saw the big screen adaptation of The Chapelle’s Show’s “What Men Want” skit to a movie starring Taraji P. Henson. In 2020, anticipate a feature length Rick James biopic, a Playa Hater’s Ball film, and “Game, Blouses: The Movie”.

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

This film marks Ricky Jerret’s first acting role after he was cut from the Miami Dolphins by Charles Greane - who he thought was his friend - for his use of PEDs.

This film holds the distinction of having the highest number of different spellings on social media - just barely edging out Bohemian Rhapsody and The Favourite (well, in America).

Reggie Miller purchased a seat in the front row of the Oscars and is planning to wear a The Favourite jersey and baseball cap, then spend the entire show heckling Spike Lee and screaming, “See?! How does it feel the other way around?!”

Bohemian Rhapsody

Bohemian Rhapsody is a French film with a title that can be loosely translated into English as “The Sassy Singing Lad With The Donkey Snout”. 

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

A bit of trivia for you. Did you know that Freddie Mercury wasn’t his first choice for a stage name? It was actually Fred Mercury.

A bit of trivia for you. Did you know that Brian May wasn’t his first choice for a stage name? It was actually Brian February.

A bit of trivia for you. Did you know that Queen’s first band name was actually Princess and they didn’t become Queen until they married Prince...and enjoyed a Purple Reign? Yup - I will show myself out now.

The Favourite

Rain droups on rouses! This perioud piece stars Oulivia Coulman, Emma Stoune, Joue Alwyn and Nichoulas Holt! It’s abot a grop of people in the contry of England that’s two hors long and y will find fabulos! 

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

This is the movie about a Queen that doesn’t end with an AIDS diagnosis...I think.

Wigs and bodices accounted for 48% of the film’s budget.

The film’s title has nothing to do with the plot or characters and is instead a sly attempt to influence the outcome of the Academy of Motion Pictures and Sciences members’ voting.

Green Book

In this sexual thriller, we see the raw, animal side of Kermit the Frog as he provides details from his Little Green Book of every single Muppet he’s fucked. With an original working title of Fifty Shades of Green, we’ll see how Miss Piggy was at first a mousy and demure fill-in interviewer whose sexual spirit was awakened by Kermit’s dominant yet mesmerizing magnetism. Kermit also does some butt stuff with Bunsen Honeydew and gets down group style with all of The Electric Mayhem.

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

There’s an odd cameo halfway through the movie where Mahershala Ali enters a gas station on the road and encounters a man in his late 20′s/early 30′s who says in a southern drawl, “I’m Stephen Dorff and I’m your partner,” then another Stephen Dorff, this one in his 40′s limps up and says, “And I’m Stephen Dorff. I’m also your partner,” then finally an old drunk one in his 70′s hobbles up and says, “I’m Stephen Dorff and I too am your partner!”

Mahershala Ali generally tried to avoid Viggo Mortensen, who continually would run up saying, “Dude, Mahersh! We have to get matching tattoos of the number two - for the two of us to commemorate this journey that we’re on together. It’s what you do with your cast mates!” When Mahershala would decline but say it was nice what Viggo and the cast of the Lord of the Rings trilogy did together, Viggo would walk off grumbling, “Hidalgo got a tattoo with me...”

*Before the next comment - be sure to do a thorough research on Google and on social media to determine the prevailing public opinion of if Green Book is a remarkable cinematic achievement faithful to the story of Don Shirley and Tony Vallelonga’s relationship and an examination of the complicated issue of race and its impact on friendship and business OR if it’s just another white savior movie before you speak, so that you can make sure that you’re aligned with whatever is currently the popular thing to say at that moment in time about this movie. Then say...

Ahem. This is the same director who wrote and directed a scene in Movie 43 where Hugh Jackman is on a blind date with Kate Winslet and has prosthetic testicles hanging under his neck which go into her mouth - and that’s, like, it.

Roma

Set in a world with no color, this movie is about a bunch of people (mostly children) hugging on a beach who may or may not be related to each other, may or may not be involved in some kind of national tragedy in either Italy or Mexico, and may or may not be sick, dying, sad or overcome with joy. I honestly have no clue on this one. But it IS on Netflix.

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert: 

They say that Alfonso Cuarón painted a realistic picture of his childhood in Roma which is the exact same tactic he employed in making Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

Netflix forced Cuarón to cross promote other Netflix titles throughout the film, so there is an odd scene in which Cleo’s son meets his Big Mouth Hormone Monster to talk about masturbation and then later on the family enters The Upside Down (or Al Revés de Abajo). Also, every single cast member gets a stand-up comedy special.

Yalitza Martínez plays a housekeeper here and after this star-making turn, she’s got it MAID!

A Star Is Born

Jackson Maine wants to create a star. But after consulting a high school astronomy textbook, he learns that the only way that a star is truly born is to squeeze atoms of light elements under enough pressure for their nuclei to undergo fusion. He closes the book and says, “To hell with that science shit,” then gets drunk and just hires Lady Gaga to write a song that sounds like she’s a child screaming at her mom to watch her do a dive at the community pool.

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

As a first-time singer, Bradley Cooper devoted countless hours over several months in order to unlock the instrument of his voice to become a mostly-inoffensive singer. As a first-time director, Bradley Cooper bought one of those chairs with “Director” on it.

Bradley Cooper refused to urinate for the duration of filming until the big Grammy’s scene so it played better on film. He did poop a lot during filming though.

The young actress from Eighth Grade is already planning her Oscar bait remake of A Star Is Born to come out in 2043 where SHE plays the aging star and enters a romance with a young male singer played by Boy from Bird Box.

Vice

As the DC Comics universe continues to expand, we finally get the origin story of Batman arch nemesis and super villain, The Penguin.

3 Things To Casually Inject Into Conversation To Prove You Saw The Movie And Sound Like An Expert:

Unable to shake his Saturday Night Live roots, Adam McKay decided to insert a scene late in the movie where - unannounced - the real Dick Cheney walks in to surprised applause from the audience and Christian Bale acts flustered before stammering out that it is an honor to meet him. Cheney pauses for the awkward “oh my god, can you believe this” murmur to die down in the audience and then stiffly delivers, “You know, Christian, you could have just worn a fat suit for this role.” The audience erases all memory of the terrible atrocities that the man has committed during his lifetime and erupts into wild clapping and bark-laughing like seals while Christian and the rest of the cast just have to hand it to the guy for being such a good sport about it all.

Dick Cheney is just happy that A Star Is Born is in the field this year so that in defiance of Vice he also doesn’t have to root for any movies about gay guys, black people, immigrants, or foreigners.

While watching the film, Laura Bush continually had to remind a startled and frightened George W. that no, he was not trapped up in the big movie screen.

[drcraneandmrcrow-blog]

👻 - Someone They Don’t See Often !

Meet the People in My Muse’s Life

👻  - Someone They Don’t See Often

“Yeah - there’s a reason I don’t see Dent often,” Jonathan said bitterly, frowning down at his page as he scribbled a quick note, “’s cause I hate ‘im.” He put his pencil down and leaned back in his chair to give his full attention, elbows resting on the chair’s arms and fingers intertwined. “Some fellas in Arkham seem ta believe we folks with split personalities get along, and I suppose I can say I do get along with Arnold and Scarface. Arnold sympathised with me durin’ a tough time and has never given me reason ta dislike ‘im. Didn’t even take offence when I tried ta stab him with a fork that one time, so that was nice of ‘im. And Scarface and I are civil...despite his repetitive use of the word ‘Beanpole’ in my presence (or ‘Geanpole’, given his speech impediment). Dent, on the other hand? Why, Dent’s given me plenty o’ reasons ta dislike ‘im.

“He’s double-crossed me, used me, stolen from me, threatened ta shoot me off a roof fer interrupting a coin toss, beaten the shit outta me a few times, insulted Scarecrow and I ta hell an’ back and his attempt at offendin’ and/or embarrassin’ me by inferring that Edward is my lover - just cause we happen ta hang around each other in Arkham an’ have worked together a handful o’ times - got old the first time ‘e said it.” He scoffed. “Please. I got better taste ‘an that.

“In any case, Dent and I jus’ plain don’t get along. We never have. He’s too annoying fer me ta get along with, both his personality and his gimmick. Oh, sure, we’ll work together, should there be somethin’ in it fer the both of us. Usually the result of the Penguin callin’ us both in or the Joker rounding a bunch o’ Rogues up. We’ve both taken part in break-outs in Arkham, one of which he ruined cause he had ta stop an’ flip his goddamn coin. Compulsions, huh? They can be real cruel sons o’ bitches.” He sniffed. “But that’s a him problem, not a me problem. Speakin’ of Arkham, he’s also got a very annoyin’ habit of talkin’ to himself at night.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why Arkham likes ta house us near each other - probably due to the whole ‘we both got another fella or two livin’ in our heads and thus we must get along’ crap - but Dent’s late-night yammerin’ has cost me a few hours of Z’s.” He frowned. “Sure, I talk ta Scarecrow at night (granted, I haven’t been forced on my meds), but we keep it to our-damn-selves. 

“I digress; it’s very rare fer Harvey and I ta get along. More often than not, we’ll have a common enemy - usually the Bat - an’ we’ll team up ta take ‘em down, or maybe we both heard a good joke and our sense of humours prove ta be closer in common than we think. Sometimes, he’ll deliver a good insult ta someone an’ I’ll be there ta back it up or I’ll drive someone ta suicide an’ he’ll be there ta say, ‘For fuck’s sake, Crane, he owed us money’. It’s a good system we got goin’ on.”

He shrugged. “Scarecrow hates Harv, Harv hates Scarecrow. I hate Harvey, Harvey hates me. Scarecrow hates Harvey, Harvey hates Scarecrow. I hate Harv, Harv hates me. There’s no two personalities that get along in this equation, and we’re quite content ta keep it that way. I see no benefit ta having Harvey as an ally, much less a chum. That would mean seein’ him more often and - woo. I am not willin’ ta do that. But I think I’ve made that clear.” Jonathan stretched out his limbs, popping joints back into place. “Dent can - by all meanings of the phrase - go fuck himself. An’ if he keeps me awake at night again, I swear ta God, I will be marchin’ over ta his cell and shoving that coin up his ass.” He shrugged. “Whichever one - I ain’t picky.”

[underabr0kensky]

Fuck you I’m not picking numbers I’m doing all of them

1. selfie: I’ll take one later, I look kinda bad right now. 2. what would you name your future kids? I don’t particularly want kids, but if I had a daughter I’d want to name her Rachel. 3. do you miss anyone? Yes. Holy fucking shit goddamn yes. 4. what are you looking forward to? Getting drunk, getting a fucking new phone, and seeing her. 5. is there anyone who can always make you smile? Yes, she makes me smile more than I have in a while. 6. is it hard for you to get over someone? Yeah, extremely. 7. what was your life like last year? It was the worst year of my life. I hit rock bottom. It was shit and I don’t want to go back. 8. have you ever cried because you were so annoyed? Yeah, when I was younger over certain video games. Dragon Ball Z: Legendary Super Warriors made me break a Gameboy. 9. who did you last see in person? Uhh. My step-sis. 10. are you good at hiding your feelings? Nah, not usually. Especially if they’re extreme. 11. are you listening to music right now? Just the background noise while my PS4 eternally updates. 12. what is something you want right now? Her. Fucking badly. 13. how do you feel right now? Hungry, slightly annoyed, and extremely frisky. 14. when was the last time someone of the opposite sex hugged you? I’m not sure. It’s been a bit. 15. personality description: I’m open-minded, opinionated, I joke around a lot, and I try to help everyone. 16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t? Yeah, many times. 17. opinion on insecurities: They are nothing to be ashamed of, just don’t let them fuck up your relationships. 18. do you miss how things were a year ago? Hell fucking no I don’t. 19. have you ever been to New York? Yeah, I miss Manhattan. They had a Reese’s Cup there the size of my head. 20. what is your favourite song at the moment? I can’t pick a favorite song. I don’t think I have one. 21. age and birthday? 24, and October 16th. Read my about me you lazy fuck 22. description of crush: Ozge. 23. fear(s): Spiders, needles, heartbreak/being alone, getting old. 24. height: 6′ 25. role model: Honestly, I don’t really have any. I just try to live the way I know I’d like to see other people live. 26. idol(s): James Hetfield comes to mind. But I don’t really have “idols”. 27. things i hate: Being so fucking far away from her, my fucking phone, Windows fucking 10, and my job. 28. i’ll love you if…your name starts with “O”, ends with “E,” and isn’t pronounced the way it looks. 29. favourite film(s): Goodfellas, 300, Casino, Hesher, LotR, The Hobbit films, Legend, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, School of Rock, Wind Chill, The Monster, Titanic, Her, Good Will Hunting, I could go on for a while. I love films. 30. favourite tv show(s): House M.D., Criminal Minds, Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, Luther, Dr. Who, Firefly. 31. 3 random facts: I can curl my tongue and it helps me play harmonica, I hate wearing long-sleeved shirts, and I don’t really use any condiments on my food. 32. are your friends mainly girls or guys? Girls, usually. Most guys I meet are the alpha macho “FUCK YEAH LET’S GET WASTED AND PICK UP CHICKS” type that I hate. 33. something you want to learn: There are several things. I want to learn to play the violin, sitar, drums, shamisen, and dobro to name a few things. I also want to learn Italian, Spanish, German, and French. 34. most embarrassing moment: When I tried to dance with my crush in like the 4th grade. Holy fuck, the horror. 35. favourite subject: Science. Specifically biology. 36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill? I want to move out of the country, I want to make a career with music, and I want to have a happy relationship. 37. favourite actor/actress: RDJ, Johnny Depp, Emma Watson, Leo DiCaprio. 38. favourite comedian(s): Katt Williams and Dane Cook. 39. favourite sport(s): Boxing and football. 40. favourite memory: My trip to South Dakota. 41. relationship status: Single-ish, but definitely talking to someone and definitely not interested in anyone else. 42. favourite book(s): WoT, Bag of Bones, pretty much anything by Stephen King, John Saul, John Grisham, or Michael Crichton, the Harry Potter books, The Great Gatsby, Dracula, Moby Dick. 43. favourite song ever: I told you I don’t have one, you dick. 44. age you get mistaken for: Like 19 or 20. I look a lot younger than I am. 45. how you found out about your idol: I said I don’t really have idols, you twat. Read. 46. what my last text message says: I have no idea because MY PHONE IS A FUCKING BRICK GODDAMN IT 47. turn ons: Someone who is passionate and romantic. Physically: Slapping, choking, biting, feet, hair-pulling, scratching, moaning, slow tongue kissing, someone wrapping their legs around me, mutual masturbation, etc. 48. turn offs: Immaturity, disloyalty, fake people. 49. where i want to be right now: In Germany, in her room, on her bed, in her arms. 50. favourite picture of your idol: Holy fucking shit, just Google James Hetfield and stop asking me about my idol you motherfucker. 51. starsign: Libra. 52. something i’m talented at: Guitar. 53. 5 things that make me happy: Music, food, stormy weather, not having to go to work, and Ozge. 54. something thats worrying me at the moment: My phone being fucked all night. I don’t like not being able to contact people/be contacted, sometimes my friends need me and not everyone uses Facebook. 55. tumblr friends: Like I’m gonna tell you their names, but I have made five close ones. Well okay one of them is Ozge. I wouldn’t just say she’s a tumblr friend. Or even just a friend. 56. favourite food(s): Anything Italian, chicken nachos, chicken and dumplings, chicken fried steak, pancakes and bacon, oatmeal and raisins and bacon, ham, green beans, green beans with ham/bacon, corn, chocolate. 57. favourite animal(s): Cat, snake, fox, red panda, bear, penguin, turtle, lizard, any reptiles or amphibians really. 58. description of my best friend: He is a drummer. With short hair. And glasses. 59. why i joined tumblr: My friend told me I should. I’m so glad I did. 60. ask me anything you want: You are a survey. I can’t. Fool.

[numberonemagnusstan]

Ep5-

- juice you will never get through an intro without being interrupted

- Egdjdjdjns Justin

- “Ask his parents to adopt you”

- Mbmbam is so old part 5

- “Shirt garters!”

- Wow justin with actual advice

- Jude law is that you

- I want nunchucks so bad actually

- NO OH MY GKDBDJDN

- bruh she’s married

- MBMBAM IS SO OLD PT 6 29 YEAR OLD JUSTIN MCELROY

- This is gotta be copyrighted

- MEGA JESOP

- “Sober from the m e t h”

- NO JUSTIN NO

- I can’t picture griffin drunk

- “Jeff? Jeff? Jeeeeeeefffff?”

- Oh boys oh no

- I zoned out but the Parkeet one got me fbdnfn

Ep-6

- where is the regular mbmbam song

- Dhdjdksjxbdsn SEXIEST OCTOPUS

- Ribs hurt ouch

- Mbmbam is so old pt 7

- Me too the fuck

- Ooooooof

- Fake dating au

- Oh no honey no

- Aw actually that’s cute

- Firbolg is that you

- ROMAN SANDERS IS THAT YOU

- Mbmba and me

- No griffin no

- PLEASE DONT

- Trav the dog expert

- ....mbmbam is so old pt 8?

- THIS IS ALREADY BAD

- N o y u c k y

- Bdejdnmsdkchjdnsnsj

- Oh my god griffin

- NO TRAVIS THAT IS BAD THAT IS SO BAD BAD BAD BAD

- listen if he cheated the night before the wedding he’s not gonna go through with it

- I hate everyone in this podcast oh my gjdbdbdksbsmskdk

- Provocative hats

- Nope solving mysteries

- Oh that was smooth

- Griffy that was so straight

- Huh nice

- Again so straight

- Unless....

- Fhdjdjmsndsn

- Mbmbam is so old pt 9?

- “Time traveling president”

- F in the chat for that guy

- Dhdndndndnsmxnskdbsjsj

- “Buck ASS wild”

- Travis saying that makes me feel like he did some druges

- Travis no

- I’m fbdjdnsjbdkdbkefhksbdmsbdksns

- Mbmbam is so old pt 10

- Ma bam bam

- MBMBAM IS SO OLD PT 11

- do I need to go on the drugs

- The boys give actual advice

- Dhdjdjdj penguin club

- Travis Works At Pets Smart

- Dhdhdhdbxnxkxnskdjs

Ep-7

- THEY DID IT

- Fuck they didn’t they were so close

- Googles and google of music

- Oh my god

- Yup

- Oh travis oh no

- NO TRAVIS NO

- Justin no

- Oh me too sis the fuck

- Dudjxjsjzksn

- Raq

- Wish I knew what this movie is oh my god fjdkdndk

- Huh it really be like that sometimes

- ....flo from the insurance commercials is so old pt 1?

- Baby!!!!!’

- Squishing out the baby

- Oh no they actually communicated this time

- Hddbjdnddkdhdndmnddndmsknx

- Wait is travis married at this point

- No he is not

- Oh god this is so b a d

- NOTHING like twilight

- Jadince

- No Connection

- Travis that was Weird

- E w

- You’re welcome

- Oh n o oooooo

- The Young People

- Social Engagement

- They don’t recommend their our advice fhdnfndnd

- NOOOO

- Good advice? Bad advice? Idk

- Danger wow

- Oh mood mood mood

- Oh my god

- Actual advice!

- Hey sweet baby

- Oh my gornejdnsns

- That’s tough buddy

- Pound sign mbmbam

- Mbmbam is so old part 11

Ep 8-

- They fucked up

- “Mostly just sorrow”

- ....ok griff

- C o m m u n i c a t i o n

- I am a feral wolf

- NO GUYS NO

- It really be like that sometimes

- Guys don’t be dumb

- Thank you travis god

- Signed that blood pact

- “ I’m Justin’s Justin’s yours you’re mine” wow that was quick trav

- Thank you for being cool guys oh lord

- Ms Sydnee McElroy I love you

- “Forget about THAT”

- A a ron

- Aaron, man

- Trans rights tho? It be like that

- “Telemarketrinas “

- Djsjdndndndlsnd

- “Funky butt loving”

- Fhdjdndjddndndkdjsd

- Oh they’re Babies

- I’m Justin fhdnfndn

- Dhdbfndndnsksowiewiznfbedn GRIFFIN NO

- yes please don’t

- Xndmssmdkekdnsns

- TRAVIS NOOOOOOOOOOOO

- Oh that’s unfortunate for sure

- No guys oh my god djdkdndmdn

- Okay that’s a mood

- N o guys no

- F

- Travis????

- T r a v i s

- Dhdjdjdj djdjf mood

- Just Chill

- The boys give actual advice

- I can’t comment here bc I know nothing about alcohol

- G O D

- ............oh my god

- Boys no

- BOYS NO

- Griffin jeez

- Oh my gkdbfjdnfmdmdssax

- Feminine wiles

- Justin n o goddamn it

- A cute lady friend :D

- Chdjdmxndndndn griffin no

- Wait okay mood

- I wonder if mbmbam still does this

- NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-