#PLEASE SEND ME STUFF BEING ON BREAK IS SO FUCKING BORING I HAD TO RESORT TO SPORT CHANNELS

[th3j4germe1ster]

Might come off break..still going through some shit or whatever the word for that is.

if I don’t come back it’s bc I’m staring therapy again and wanna focus on myself some more :^

But in all seriousness if you want send ask or whatever for when I feel like coming online and actually functioning 💪🏼🗣️‼️

[whyralltheusernamestaken]

hey! i love ur blog and i couldn’t resist requesting something. so i was thinking that if the reader was from medieval times where they have magic, wizards, knights, mages, and stuff like that. so 1 A was hit by a quirk that brought them to that dimension. and the reader is like god level with the amount of power they have even though their the same age as class 1 A. and they help the class survive or sum like that after like knights attach them cause sum of them look weird. can u use they/them.

It's just the main three boys if that's alright :( I can do hcs with the entire class if that's more of what u had in mind! Just leave another ask,,, sorry about that 😅 

Warnings : swear words 

Words : 1.2k 

You were bored. 

Perhaps that was the understatement of the century, but an otherwordly being like you had ceased to find interest in the small confines that was your world. The never ending weeks of wasting your life on your temple throne, perched upon a royal gold seat and listening to prayer’s wishes were certainly tiring you out. The ordinary wished for happiness, for their crops to yield well or for them to find true love, the king would wish for power, luxuries. And through your judgement, you would grant some of these wishes, crafting an empire like soft clay in your hands, a game to a child. Yet even with your godly powers, you could not seem to satisfy your boredom. 

Today you watched idly as a mage stepped into the light of the temple's wishing grounds. You sat high above the clouds, listening to their talk of discovering a new spell, hidden from the mere mortal's eyes. Sure many of mankind had laid eyes on you before, however sometimes you preferred to keep away from the prying eyes. After all, you were far far superior than them - one of their creators, in a sense. Your messenger would speak to your creations when you chose to observe from afar, teaching them of your presence with fables and songs. It had only been seventeen years since you were first introduced into the world, born from ashes through their beliefs, and yet you were already one of the most respected gods.

~~~ 

The villain's quirk was truely terrifying. One would only be a fool to engage in battle with someone who's quirk they did not understand. The first year class of UA learnt this the hard way when the warp gate villain's quirk had transported them to an entirely different location. Different time period perhaps. Todoroki had picked up on this as he gazed over what was once the medival Japan. 

"Um guys." Midoriya called out. 

"Where are we?" 

"Do we look like we fucking know Deku?" the blonde shouted, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he marched around the alley, coming to an abrupt halt when his eyes met a busy marketplace. 

The streets were lined with broken stone, small tent like structure of straw and wood littered the area as people bustled in and out of them, each carrying a basket. The air was a brown hue from the sand that had been kicked up, the shouts of stall owners filling the air as exchanges of good and money illustrated the market place. 

"This isn't modern Japan." Todoroki stated, looking out at the same scene. He stepped out into the street, sticking to the shadows and the other two followed, survaying their surroundings in case of an villains. His ears perked up as he realised the people spoke in a different language altogether. "This might not even be Japan." 

"U-uh what?" Midoriya stuttered, close to tears as he frantically looked around. "What do we do? Where are the others? How do we get back? Is all might okay?" 

"For god's sake, shut up." Bakugou scowled. His dismissal was perhaps due to an inkling of fear that had burrowed it's way into his heart. He had utterly no idea where they were and no one could help him. Alas, his pride would never allow him to voice out his concerns and so he followed in silence, a dull glare permenantly etched onto his face. 

~~~ 

"Shit." 

"Yeah we are in some pretty deep shit." 

"Why the fuck are they treating us like the villains here?" Bakugou shouted, running down the cobbled street as men on horse back clothed in sheets of metal chased after them, swords and spears in hands. 

"Over here." Todoroki called out, pulling the two behind a row of neatly trimmed bushes and running further into the garden. 

"Hurry up and find them!" they heard one of the men shout in the background. 

"Ah!" Midoriya screamed, tripping over and landing directly into a small pond. He desperately scrambled to his feet, eyes glancing over the fish that he may have crushed in his fall. 

A small laugh rang out from the distance, the boys all swiftly turning their heads towards an approaching figure emerging from behind the trees. "That was rather humorous if I am permitted to say so." you chuckled, running a hand through your locks and your eyes darted over the three strangers. "And you are...?" 

“There they are!" the voice bellowed, the sounds of hooves drawing closer as the boys turns to run. 

"Gentlemen!" you proclaimed, your voice ringing sharp through the air, ceasing all movement. The horses had stopped right in their tracks and even the teen's feet were frozen to the ground. 

"Y-your highness!" one of them stuttered, jumping off his horse to bow down on one leg, the other guards following suit. 

"May I ask if you know these men?" You tapped your chin slightly, cocking your head to the side as you studied them. 

"They are my guests." 

"H-huh?" 

"I see your highness, please forgive us for chasing them however they were spotted-" 

You waved your hand to stop the guard from speaking. "No worries." you beamed. "Please excuse their unsightly behaviour." 

"Unsightly? You bitch-"

"Bakugou please stop." Todoroki sighed. "They're helping us."

"I am a fucking god and I just got sworn at." you muttered softly, turning your head to the side as you brought up your hand to your mouth, faking a sob. Your pity party was cut short when you heard your messenger, Hermes calling for you.

"Y/N!" they flew over, sighing as they landed on the grass. "You cannot just leave your duties like that." they scolded you, recieving a pout in return.

"But it's so boring there." you whined, scrunching your face up at the thought of another day wasted. "I'm growing old Hermes and I don't want to be cooped up in that damn seat for hours on end."

"Old my ass." the blonde snorted, rolling his eyes as he crossed his arms, sending you a glare. "You look the same age as us."

"How are we able to understand you?" Todoroki suddenly asked, registering that the language you spoke was not Japanese, and yet he was here having a conversation with you.

"Hmm I wonder. Maybe I’ll tell you later." you replied, feigning curiosity before turning back to the guards.

"These gentlemen will be staying with me."

"Y/N you can't-" 

“Your highness-" Hermes and the head guard began.

"Silence." you demanded, the air once again growing cold and still. "How dare you speak back to me."

You watched as the colour drained from their faces, the guard's lip trembling with fear before breaking out into laughter. "Just kidding!" you said, sticking you tongue out before turning on your heels. "What possible harm could dear ol' me do?" 

“A remarkable amount." Hermes sighed. "Your highness do you remember that one time you flooded the halls of the gods-"

"Hermes shh!" you gasped, running over and throwing a hand over his mouth. "Not in front of the guests."

"Those guests are leaving."

"B-but." you pleaded, sticking your lip out in a pout. "Look how good looking they are."

"Y/N."

"No." you huffed, skipping over to the dual haired boy and throwing your arm around his. "Well would you like to come with me?"

"Why would we go with a brat?" A sudden object flew past, you reaching out your arm to form a barricade of air, the spear stopping just centimeters from the blonde's neck.

"What the fuck? Why are you trying to kill me you dipshit."

"You know what." you sighed.

"I'm leaving him behind. You can have him Hermes." 

"Your highness, I do not want him."

"Tough." you snickered, dragging the other two back to your temple.

~~~

"Todoroki Shouto." you echoed, looking at the boy seated opposite you upon one of your grand pearl quilted couches. "That's cute."

"Thank you your highness." he replied with a small smile.

"Oh my god." you waved, your face tinted a slight red. "There's no need for such formalities! Just think of me as an average civilain."

"But-" "Shh." you hushed before turning to the blonde. "Midoriya?"

"Y-yes?" he jumped, a small squeak to his voice. "There's no need to be on edge." you reassured.

"You're perfectly safe here. Well apart from that thing." You nodded your head towards the boy chained up to one of the grand marbel pillars, a muzzle clasped against his face, his angry shouts filling the hall now that attention was back on him. Honestly, it was hilarious that Hermes had resorted to this.

Midoriya picked up another grape, before adding, "Yeah, that's Kacchan, he's like that most of the time."

"Well, it's about time I get back to work." you sighed as you heard the clocks chyme the fifth hour of the evening, stretching your arms above your head.

"May we observe?" Todoroki perked up, turning his attention away from the fuming Bakugou.

"I mean sure, I don't know why you'd want to though since it's really boring."

"I'm sure it's amazing!" Midoriya rebutted, a large smile on his face now.

You clutched your chest at his adorablness. Maybe they could stay for a while.

[hockeyandstuff91]

Fate And The Saint - Part 1

Word count: 2,735

Players: Brock Boeser, Bo Horvat, (mentioned canucks teammates)

Other people: Holly

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of cheating, I think thats it lol

Authors Note: OHHHHHHHHH BOY! Look who is back! hahaha <3 Sorry for it being such a long time since I have posted a story or series guys, the last couple months.. have been a lot lol. I’ve been trying to find the motivation to write, and it comes in randomly so I try to take advantage when I can, which was tonight lol. This series (yes I’m doing another fucking series shocker right? But hey guess what! It’s with new players!!! So I’m super excited for this) actually was inspired by a dream I had a couple weeks ago. It didn’t exactly happen like this, it was a little more dark in the dream, but I came up with this idea, and I love Brock so much he seems like such a sweet guy, so I wanted to write something with him, soooo here we are! lol I hope you guys enjoy this! Please leave me some feedback, it honestly is one of the biggest things that keep me motivated to write more <3 Love you all!!!!

Part 2

(Brock's POV)

I relaxed back in my chair, soaking up the sun, the sound of the ocean was soothing. I was glad for bye week, we all really needed this break and time to rest. I sighed as I heard my phone ring, leaning over to pick it up off the towel that was laying on the sand next to me.

I read the name on the screen, seeing that Bo was calling. That was weird, he was suppose to be meeting me down here any minute. I hit the answer button and held it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Dude you gotta come back."

"What? I thought you guys were going to meet me at the beach?" I asked. I could hear a noise in the background that almost sounded like crying, but I figured maybe the TV was on.

"Brooke needs you right now dude. seriously please, I don't know what to do. Holly is trying to calm her but she only wants you dude."

"Is she okay?"

"Physically yes, other than that no," Bo sighed.

"I'll be right up," I said quickly, hanging up my phone and quickly packing everything back up.

I almost ran the whole way back up the beach and towards the resort we were staying at. Brooke and I had picked this place out months ago, sending a group text to all the guys to see what their thoughts were since we were all going to be there together. Brooke was my best friend, and had been for a few years now, so of course I invited her to go on the trip with us. Unfortunately her boyfriend wasn't exactly excited about that idea and said the only way she was going was if he was here too. I reluctantly invited him, hoping he wouldn't be a dick on the trip like he usually was back at home.

I rushed into the elevator, pressing the 5th floor button repeatedly. I had no idea what was going on, but I needed to get up there as fast as I could. Thankfully Bo told me that she wasn't physically hurt so that was good, but I was scared that her boyfriend had done something and she just wouldn't tell the guys. He had hit her one time when he was really drunk, but apparently that was the only time, and he had felt really guilty about it. At least that's what she claimed.

Finally the elevator doors opened and I made my way down the hall, using my key card to get into my room. I tossed everything onto the bed and walked into the living room area that was in between my room and Bo's.

Brooke was sitting on a chair on the balcony, Holly was out there with her, rubbing her back and trying to get her to drink some water.

"What happened?"

"I have no idea dude," Bo answered. "She knocked on our door looking for you and then she just burst into tears and shes been out there ever since."

"Brooke," I called out, letting her know that I was here.

She turned her head and got up from her chair, walking back inside. "Brock," she forced out, her voice rough from crying.

"Come here," I said, sitting on the couch.

(Brooke's POV)

I sniffled as I made my way over to Brock, wiping my eyes. I crawled into Brock's lap, facing him, and hid my face against his shoulder. I felt his arms wrap around me and I finally took my first even breath all morning.

"What happened?" He asked softly, his hand rubbing up and down my back trying to sooth me.

I shook my head, not wanting to talk just yet or I was going to start crying all over again.

Brock nodded, understanding without me having to say anything. "You two go enjoy the beach, we might join you a little later," Brock said to Bo and Holly.

I just held onto Brock tightly, burying my head deeper between his shoulder and neck. There was the sound of things moving around the room for a few minutes before the hotel door opened and closed, signalling that Bo and Holly had left. I felt bad for ruining everyone's morning and not being able to handle this on my own.

Brock's hand came to rest on the back of my head as I felt him kiss the side of my head. "You want to talk yet? It's just me here," he said softly.

I sighed and pulled back, looking down at him. His face was full of worry, which was understandable since he had no idea what was going on.

"Brad.. uh I saw him.. he-" I took a shaky breath trying to get out what had happened. "At the club last night, when he left to get a drink and I went to go find him-"

"Yeah I remember that," Brock nodded, reaching up to wiped a stray tear off my cheek.

"I saw him.. um.." I sighed and closed my eyes. "He was cheating on me," I finally forced it out, trying really hard not to start crying again.

"He what?!" Brock almost growled. "I'm going to kill him."

"Brock no," I sighed, opening my eyes and looking at him. "Please just. I don't want to think about him today," I sniffled.

Brock relaxed back against the couch, his face softening. "Okay. Do you want to go down to the beach with Bo and Holly?"

I nodded "Yeah maybe being in the sun would be good," I answered as I got off his lap.

"Just let me know if you want to come back okay?"

"Thanks Brock," I smiled a little.

"Anything for my best friend," he smiled back, making his way back into his room to grab his things.

We walked down the hall to where my room was and I opened the door, hoping that Brad wasn't in here. The lights were off, meaning he had left after I stormed out this morning to find Brock.

"Why don't we move your stuff to my room?" Brock said as he followed me in.

I looked over my shoulder as I was unzipping my suit case to grab my bathing suit. "Brock no-"

"Brooke yes. I am not going to let you stay in this room with that ass hole," he said crossing his arms.

I sighed, knowing that he was right. I couldn't be in this room with Brad, I would be upset for the rest of the trip if I was. I felt bad though, I didn't want to crowd around Brock and make him feel like he couldn't enjoy his trip because he had to watch out for me.

"You'll have to deal with sharing a bed though," Brock chuckled, now standing right next to me as he reached down, zipping my suitcase back up and grabbing it by the handle, walking back towards the door.

I rolled my eyes as I stood back up. "Yeah because we haven't ever shared a bed before, or gone camping in that tiny ass tent of yours," I laughed as I checked around the room to make sure I had everything, and then grabbing my backpack and following him back out of the room, stopping to toss down my key card on the TV stand.

"That was one time, and I swear it was a mix up. My dad told me the tent could fit 5 people in it and I grabbed the wrong one by accident."

"Uh huh.. keep telling yourself that Brock," I smiled and followed him back down the hallway towards his room.

Brock just smiled, usually one to argue back with me because that was just what we did, it was always in a teasing way. I could tell however that he was just happy to see me smiling and not crying, so he would deal with losing this fight.

We dropped my stuff off at his room, I quickly changed in the bathroom before we then headed down to the lobby to make our way out to the beach. It was a beautiful day out at least, nothing like back home. It had to be in the 80s here while back home it was in the 30s.

"Wow this is what the sun feels like?" I laughed.

Brock laughed "Yeah this is what the sun feels like," he said wrapping his arm around my shoulder as we walked down the path from the resort to the beach.

"I forgot, its so cold back home."

Brock nodded "I checked the weather back home and it said it was suppose to snow a bit."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Whatever I'm about to lay on the beach for the first time in like 6 months. I'm a happy girl at the moment," I smiled as I saw the ocean come into view.

"Good," Brock said, pulling me closer to him as we step onto the sand.

I kicked off my flip flops, picking them up, before hearing Bo and Holly call our names from down the beach a little ways.

"Even the sand is warm," I hummed softly as I wiggled my toes before we continued to make our way over to them.

"Hey," Holly smiled, grabbing the other end of my towel to set it on the sand. "Feel any better?" she asked softly.

I nodded "Yeah I just want to enjoy the sun today," I smiled, sitting down on my towel.

"Bo was just going to go get some drinks, you guys want any?"

"Its 10 in the morning!" Brock laughed.

"Yeah?" Bo asked, a serious look on his face.

I laughed and shook my head. "Just a water for me please?"

"Of course," Bo smiled.

"Same for me dude," Brock answered, setting his towel next to mine.

"Boring," Bo mumbled as he started to head up to the little hut on the edge of the beach.

Brock rolled his eyes and laid back, putting his arms behind his head. I leaned back on my elbows, talking to Holly who was to the right of me. An hour had gone by, and the guys had ended up going down to the ocean to jump in for a quick swim when I noticed something.

"Fuck," I groaned.

"Whats up?" Holly asked, sitting up and putting her sunglasses on the top of her head.

"He's here.. and with a fucking girl too," I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Are you fucking serious? Jesus Christ what a-" Holly stopped herself and sighed.

I looked up as Brock and Bo made their way back to us, Brock shaking water out of his hair and onto me.

I normally would of laughed and probably whined at him for getting water on me, but my mood was completely ruined by Brad, yet again.

"Whats the matter?" Brock asked as he sat next to me.

"He's here with some bitch," Holly said before I could even answer.

Brock looked around and then saw him. I saw his hand clench into a fist but I grabbed his hand, turning his attention back to me as he relaxed again.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I just-"

"I know Brock. Can we.. can we just go back to the room? I don't want him to see me here."

"Sure," Brock said, squeezing my hand gently before getting up and gathering our stuff. "We'll see you later for dinner," he said to Bo and Holly who gave me a sympathetic smile as we left.

Neither Brock or I said anything as we made our way back to the hotel, walking into the lobby. I started walking over to the elevators when I noticed that Brock wasn't beside me anymore. I stopped and turned around, seeing that Brock had started to make his way over to the front desk. I walked quickly to catch up with him, grabbing his hand to stop him.

"What are you doing?" I asked softly.

"I'm canceling his room."

"Brock no, you can't do that."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because that's not nice."

"So what?!" Brock said a little louder than he meant to. "What he did to you was way worse than 'not nice.'"

"So what does that mean?"

"Me canceling his room?" Brock asked and I nodded in response. "It means his shit will be cleaned out and left behind the desk for him to pick up when he finds out his key card no longer works."

"So where is he going to stay then?"

"That's his problem not mine, and especially not yours. The only reason he is here is because that was the only way you were allowed to be here, Brooke. By me allowing him to keep his room I feel like I'm enabling his behavior. And when we get back to the room, his plane ticket will also be canceled. Good luck getting home Brad," Brock said as he turned and made his way to the desk this time.

I sighed, not wanting to cause any more drama then there already was, but Brock was right. He had agreed to let Brad come, only so that I was able to be here. He wanted me to finally be able to relax and have a fun vacation, and Brad had ruined that. I knew Brock long enough to know there was no stopping him from doing this, but honestly Brad deserved it. Not to mention Brock had every right to do this anyways, since it was his money that allowed Brad to come here in the first place, being that he had paid for everything.

"There," Brock smiled once he was done, walking with me back towards the elevators. "They are going to send someone to collect all of his things and hold them at the desk for him to pick up by tomorrow morning."

I nodded as I listened to him, but didn't say anything. We made our way to the room and I tossed my stuff onto the chair that was in the corner of the room. I sat on the edge of the bed and played with a stray string on the bottom of my bathing suit.

I heard Brock typing away on his phone for a moment before I heard him talking to what I imagined was someone with the airline we had our tickets through. He told them that he only wanted one of the tickets canceled and thanked them after a few minutes of waiting. Once he was done with that he jumped onto the bed behind me and poked my side.

"Hey," he said softly.

I didn't say anything I just continued to play with the string.

I heard him sigh as I felt the bed move, seeing him out of the corner of my eye as he made his way to sit on the edge of the bed next to me.

"Brookie I'm sorry. I know you don't want me to leave him stranded or anything but-"

"No Brock I understand. Honestly this is what he deserves. I just... I can imagine what kind of hell I'm going to be walking into when I get back home is all."

Brock shook his head, reaching out to grab my hand. "You won't have to deal with that I promise. You know that I have plenty of room at my place, we get home a couple days before the first game. I'll get Bo, and Jake, and Marky, and Troy, and Ben, and all the other guys to help you pack up your stuff and guard the house while you are there so we can move before he even gets back home. We wont let him anywhere near you okay? I promise I'm going to make everything okay again," Brock said as he pulled me into a hug.

I just nodded and clung onto him as I felt tears start to slide down my face again. They were a mixture of happy and sad tears. Sad because I had finally realized that everything with Brad had been wasted time and it was over, but happy because I knew that I had Brock, and a whole hockey team behind me in support for this. Everything would be okay, I just hoped that the rest of the trip we wouldn't have to deal with Brad again..

[shireness-says]

The Prickly Witch’s Guide to Magic

Summary: Emma Swan tries to keep the witch thing on the down-low. But when a handsome stranger discovers her secret and begs her to teach him magic, Emma finds herself using her powers for good to try and save his brother. ~9.6K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

A/N: It’s finally here - my @cssns piece! I’m really pleased how this one turned out, and I hope you love it too.

The fantastic fic art up top was put together by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713, and will also be posted on her page. Go give her some love - she deserves it! Thanks for the edit, darling, I love it!

Special thanks also go out to my beta, @snidgetsafan; @distant-rose and @winterbythesea, who helped me come up with titles at the last minute; and the great mods for this event, @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, and @katie-dub. Thanks for making this such a great event, I’ve loved getting to know folks in the fandom!

Tagging the folks I think might be interested: @branlovesouat, @awkwardnessandbaseball, @searchingwardrobes, @courtorderedcake. If you ever want to be tagged in my stuff, sent me a message.

And a quick disclaimer: my knowledge of anything medical is completely non-existant.

Without further ado: Enjoy!

Emma tries to keep the whole witch thing on the down-low.

It’s not that she’s ashamed – she’s really not. It’s just that if someone’s going to put the whole witchcraft thing into the public eye, it should probably be one of the people who view it as a way of life or whatever, instead of Emma, who tends to treat it as a hobby at best.

The thing is, she wasn’t raised as a witch, and she didn’t really actively seek it out either. She just went into the second-hand bookstore looking for a birthday present for Mary Margaret, and the old, leather-bound tome had just seemed like it was calling to her – like it was there for her and her alone. Like it wanted her more than anyone (with the exception of her best friend) ever had. So she had bought it for nearly obscenely cheap and brought it home.

(She learns later it’s technically called a grimoire, but when she first found it on the shelf, it was just a weird looking old book with a lot of funny illustrations.)

It was just messing around at first. It was pretty obvious the book was about some sort of magic, filled with discussions about the pros and cons of using wands and short biographies of famous wizards (hello, Merlin and da Vinci) and the importance of using as fresh of snake scales as possible for maximum potion efficacity. Emma didn’t take it too seriously right away, but she was finally bored enough to look through it one day, and shocked to find most of the instructions actually worked. At first, it was just little things – seeing if she could turn on the lights (she could), make a grilled cheese appear (she couldn’t, but that’s apparently less about ability and more about obscure laws of witchcraft), clean her dishes (and oh fuck yes she could, this was the best book ever; her apartment would finally be clean and Mary Margaret would get off her back). So spells go pretty well.

And then she got into potions because her cramps were fucking awful one month and she never wanted to go through that again. So she looked through the book and found a potion for curing muscle aches and made up a batch to keep on hand. And the next month, when her uterus tried to kill her again, she tried it as practically a last resort, and it worked. It worked even better the next month when combined with the potion for “intestinal distress” that she found and thought might be good for the bloating (and hot damn, it was).

So Emma Swan, who can barely feed herself, is suddenly using her stove to cook up all kinds of potions – mostly the frivolous ones for, like, shiny hair or ‘an aura of confidence’ or whatever, but still. It counts. The massive soup pot Mary Margaret got her years ago has never seen so much use in its short, somewhat sad life.

And she kind of thought that’d be it – Emma Swan gains a weird hobby, keeps Mary Margaret stocked with all the aphrodisiacs she and David could ever hope to go through. But she’s out and about at a little café one day, and that same sixth sense that led her to the book starts going off again, and that’s how she meets Belle – librarian by day, witch and magical researcher by night.

And then Mary Margaret gets her a fish and calls it her familiar as a joke, and she and Belle keep meeting to try new spells, and it sneaks up on her, just like that, that oh my God she’s totally a witch. Even if Harold the goldfish doesn’t do much more than placidly putter about his bowl instead of helping Emma channel her magic, like she thinks a familiar is supposed to (that is the idea, right? The book wasn’t particularly helpful on that subject).

Things kind of spiral from there. It’s just her and Belle for a while, until Emma has to swing by the library to print stuff one day and finds a woman in there about to hyperventilate because she accidentally froze someone’s water bottle. And even if they haven’t noticed, the woman is still standing there shaking and muttering about this being why she can’t leave the house, and Emma can’t just let that go. So Emma manages to calm the woman down enough to get her into the Bug and back to her tiny apartment, and goes about plying her with hot chocolate made with magically operating equipment (à la Mrs. Weasley, if Emma’s being very honest about how this all looks) in an effort to show her that magic can be controlled and is actually a good thing. And that person is Elsa. Emma and Belle do a lot of research and invite Elsa to all their meetings, and are generally able to help Elsa get her powers under control – especially since so much of the problem was that Elsa thought she was the only person in the world who could do magic and everyone would hate her if they learned of her abilities. In time, Elsa becomes a regular member of their little social/research group.

(It’s especially nice when, after Elsa pulls her life together, she offers to let Emma live in one of the rooms of her old Tudor-style home and just pitch in on the utilities and groceries.)

(Anna still likes to periodically send Emma fruit baskets as a thank you for coaxing her older sister out of her shell, and Emma has never been one to turn down free food, even if the whole thing makes her somewhat uncomfortable. Emma Swan is not great at thanks, ok?)

Belle is the one who meets Regina at an old bookshop, when she actually has to fight her over an old spellbook (a fight that Regina wins because Belle is a total pushover, but what are you going to do). Regina is looking for a new circle after a whole debacle with her previous group – “My batshit crazy sister turned it into some sort of power-hungry coven, and I was not there for that” – and Belle is, again, too kind to say no.

(Never mind the fact that they’re practically becoming their own little coven after Belle moves in to one of the other rooms at Elsa’s, and shit, they really are becoming witches, aren’t they? Clichés and all.)

And they’re good, the four of them. Regina may want them to stretch their wings a bit, get out there and use their magic to effect small changes in the world, but Emma is more than happy with the way things are right now, searching out new texts and comparing notes with other local witches, and finding the perfect spell to extend their rooms to include an ensuite bathroom because that is a priority if Emma’s ever seen one.

But they’re not a coven. They’re just a group of mutual friends - or acquaintances, as the case may be with Regina - who all practice magic, and sometimes get together to do some research. That’s it. It’s like… a weird book club or something. And so what if they sometimes test out some of the more intriguing spells in the house or back yard? It’s not that unusual. And honestly, some of these spell names are so smudged they have to test them somewhere just to figure out what the hell they do.

(Oh fuck, they’re totally a coven.)

Honestly, Emma tries to keep her magic inside the house. That’s not everyone’s strategy; Elsa in particular uses hers out in the world, now that she’s opened an ice cream parlor, which makes sense given where her magical strengths lie. Belle sometimes uses her magic as a research tool at the library, Emma knows, especially when she needs that one specific book that has been reshelved in the wrong place (she’s actually fashioned this impressive computer application that will give her a map showing exactly where it is, which is hella impressive and something Emma thinks they could totally capitalize upon if the magic thing becomes common knowledge). Emma really doesn’t want to know if lawyer Regina is using magic in her profession because that seems pretty unethical. And Emma doesn’t want to be in the middle of it if it’s happening. Better for her to just… not know.

So she tries to keep the magic inside the house, but sometimes, exceptions have to be made. Like when she breaks a heel while chasing one of her skips and it just seems more efficient to create something magical for him to trip over than to keep chasing. Or when the horrible ancient computer in the bail bonds office freezes up again, and she sends a little spark into its ancient guts just to encourage any kind of action. Or any of the multiple things that go wrong with her Bug.

Like now. Standing on the street, staring at a dead battery.

And yes, eventually she will have to get that new battery, but it has been a Long Day, and Emma is tired, and she just wants to get home, dammit, without calling Belle or Elsa to come pick her up. And hey, she does have a way to fix this, doesn’t she?

So Emma metaphorically winds up and lets loose a little burst of magic, just enough to get the old girl running.

Unfortunately, when she steps back, satisfied with the now rumbling engine, she notices she has an audience.

Fuck.

She should have paid more attention, checked the area, but she was so damn tired, and now some dark-haired dude is staring at her with his mouth wide open. Which, granted, is warranted, since Emma just started her car with magic.

As Emma makes eye contact, his jaw snaps shut, and she throws him a look she hopes conveys “Don’t you dare tell anyone, idiot.” It must work, because he nods frantically with wide eyes. She’ll have to take his word for it; lord knows she’s not marching over there to demand a promise and even debating a memory spell feels far too Regina for Emma’s liking.

So with a final look, Emma gets into her car and drives away, trying to forget the whole debacle.

------

The problem is, she can’t just forget it, though not for lack of trying. After taking down her latest skip, Emma gets a few days off of work, finally getting the chance to replace her damn battery and even have a little downtime. But the afternoon of her first day back, when she’s just ready to get into her car and go back home to the creaky Tudor and maybe talk her roommates into takeout, he’s there, waiting for her to show up. The guy from the other day - the guy who saw her do magic, the guy who could probably expose her secret to the world if he felt like it - standing, just leaning against a streetlight right next to her car. And it’s fucking creepy, but Emma can handle herself. She’s got her gun at her hip and a switchblade in her boot and a whole encyclopedia in her head of ways to hit a man and make it hurt.

She’s just paging through her mental catalog for precisely which move she should use to get him to hit the road when he opens his mouth and shocks her.

“Can you teach me magic?” he demands, leaving Emma somewhat startled.

“Excuse me?”

“Magic,” the man repeats. “You have magic, right? Can you teach me?”

He may not actively be a threat, but he has now been reclassified as an annoyance in Emma’s book, which is almost worse. Threats? Emma can deal with threats: shoot them, punch them, kick them in the balls. An annoyance? Well, she still wants to do all that, but can’t find any justification to act on those impulses.

So again, Emma just rolls her eyes, climbs in her car, and drives away.

------

This continues for a week.

Emma will walk out of her building to find the dark-haired nuisance waiting and ready to beg. He always keeps his distance, never makes her feel unsafe, but is a near-constant irritation that she just can’t shake, dammit.

Her week goes something like this:

Monday: Tall, dark, and irritating flashes a grin he must think is flirtatious or disarming or something, starts to say “Excuse me, Miss, if I could just ask you a few questions…” and earns a car door slammed in his face for his trouble.

Tuesday: The annoying bastard comes with bribery this time in the form of a cup of coffee and that same charming smile. Emma gives him another look and drives away without words.

Wednesday: The persistent son of a bitch tries to get personal. “Hi there,” he starts, “my name is Killian Jones, and I was hoping we could talk -”

“Still nope!” Emma tosses over her shoulder before driving away.

Thursday: Emma doesn’t go in because she has an overnight stakeout that evening. It’s a nice break from Killian(noying) Jones.

Friday: He starts to seem a little desperate. He shows up with an honest-to-god hot chocolate and one of those packaged chocolate chip muffins she loves and tries to convince her (“The lady at the cafe said this is your order, and I was hoping to have a word with you…”).

Emma is not convinced, but she does take the muffin and tries to ignore the way his face falls in disappointment that her reaction hasn’t changed. (Even if she is starting to feel a bit bad, there’s no way in hell she’s taking an open beverage from a stranger. She’s not interested in becoming the next installment of Dateline, thank you very much.)

By the time the next Tuesday rolls around, he’s resorted to outright pleading.

“Please, Miss, I am begging you, teach me something about magic.”

Even Emma and her prickly heart are a little moved and intrigued by his desperation and persistence. A little. But the thing is, even if Emma wanted to teach him magic, she can’t. It’s not something he’d be able to just… pick up. You’re either born with the ability or you’re not, and Emma’s been able to tell which, ever since she first picked up the grimoire. It’s like a magic sixth sense or something, an itch under her skin that says all is not as it seems. It’s an itch she’s probably always had - come to think of it, that might have something to do with her lie detector and uncanny talent for tracking down people who don’t want to be found - but ever since she had found the book and delved into the study of magic, she’s suddenly and acutely been aware of that instinct. It’s how she met Belle, it’s how she met Elsa, it’s how she knows that her favorite waitress at the local diner isn’t just what she appears (and why Emma tries to tip extra well at the full moon, because if working with PMS is a bitch, working before you turn into a freaking wolf has to be equally awful). But this guy? This Killian Jones? Emma’s not getting any of her little mental alerts. There’s not a magic bone in his body. And Tuesday is the day she finally snaps and tells him as such.

“I can’t, alright?” she snaps. “Sorry to disappoint.”

But of course, a man as inexplicably desperate as he just has to push, to prod, to refuse to accept her damn answer.

“Well why not?” he demands. “Too busy? Just give me an hour, I’m sure we can figure something out - ”

“Because I can’t teach people who don’t already have magic, you idiot!”

His entire body practically collapses in on itself as he registers her words, and Emma almost feels bad. Almost. Except for the part where he’s been pestering her for a week now.

“You’re a muggle, Jones,” she chuckles humorlessly, before a thought catches her. “Why the hell is it so important that you learn magic, anyways?”

------

She feels like a total ass when he tells her.

Killian Jones, she learns, has an older brother, who is his entire world.

“He’s all I have left,” he chokes out through the tears. Because Liam Jones, beloved older brother of one Killian Jones, has been in the hospital ever since a drunk driver plowed into his car a month ago. There’d been a convenient bus stop nearby with a bench on which they could sit and talk, but Emma finds that he’s having trouble meeting her eye, as if fully facing the woman he’s begging for help means facing the reality of his brother’s situation. “The doctors were able to set the broken bones and fix the internal bleeding, but he won’t wake up. They’re saying things about brain damage…” the sad, dark-haired man in front of her trails off, running a hand through his hair. Emma can’t decide whether the gesture is more absent-minded or distressed. “He’s everything to me. And they’re saying it will take a miracle for him to ever be alright again.” His back straightens, as if with new resolve, and finally fully turns to face her. “Well, I don’t have a miracle. But you have magic, and I thought if you could teach me, that might be enough.” As the memory of her earlier words catches up, he slumps again. “But if you can’t teach me…”

“I can’t,” she interrupts, hating herself for the abruptness as new tears spring to his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I won’t help.”

For the first time, she sees a flicker of hope cross his face. “Yeah?”

Emma nods, once, definitively. “Yeah. Hop in.”

------

“Dinner will be ready soon!” Belle chirps as Killian and Emma walk through the front door of the old Tudor. “I found this mac and cheese recipe in one of the new cookbooks. It’ll probably be our cause of death, but hey, what a way to go - ”

“We’ve got company,” Emma finally cuts in, trying not to chuckle as Killian looks around the entryway with eyes comically wide, like he’s expecting a stack of broomsticks in a corner or something.

(To be fair, there is currently a broom in the corner where the stairs meet the wall, but it’s one of the plastic ones and there because Emma’s a bit of a slacker when it comes to cleaning.)

Belle rushes into the living room a moment later as Emma is still trying to motion to Killian to take off his shoes (technically, she could do it for him, but using magic on unsuspecting people who don’t deserve it is rude). She looks like some picture out of a misogynistic 1950’s Betty Crocker advertisement, with her heels and carefully coiffed hair and a damn apron, for fuck’s sake.

“Company?” she asks a little breathlessly - probably what running around in platform heels will do to you - “You didn’t mention company this morning.” And then, not nearly far enough under her breath to disguise the words, “You never have company.” It earns her a glare from Emma and an even more bewildered look from Killian.

“Yeah, well this wasn’t exactly planned.” Gesturing to the man in question, Emma continues into the introductions.  “Killian Jones, my roommate Belle. Belle French, Killian Jones. We’re helping him.”

Belle furrows her brow. “We? I’d love to help, Emma, but I’m not sure how much I can do to help find your skips -”

“No, not that. Magic. We’re helping him with magic.”

That catches Belle off guard, sending them into several moments of shocked silence, only broken when Killian quietly offers, “If that’s okay with you…”

Belle finally snaps back to attention. “Oh! Yes, of course! Oh Emma, this will be such a good opportunity to finally use these powers to make a difference…”

And they’re off.

------

Elsa reacts similarly to Emma’s sudden pronouncement, and Regina is practically giddy over the phone at the opportunity to finally fucking do something (and someone really needs to talk to her about interacting with people, because this is not the way to go about it). By the time Belle has the goopy macaroni spooned into bowls, they’ve brought down every spell book they own and spread them across the kitchen table.

Belle full-out cries when Killian tells the story again, and Emma knows she’ll do anything to help, what with her tender Disney Princess heart. Elsa’s already pulled out a legal pad to write down all their ideas, and Emma’s actually feeling really confident about this. Regina’s proved particularly good at locating sleeping curses and antidotes (which is, frankly, a little alarming), so that’s what they decide to try first. They all agree to meet at the hospital two days later to test their first batch of potential solutions.

“I can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Killian tells Emma quietly before he leaves, standing by the door and trying clumsily to put his shoes back on while juggling the Tupperware containers of chocolate chip cookies and macaroni that Belle insisted on sending home with him.

It’s the wrong thing to say, at least if he wants a real answer, because Emma Swan has spent her life looking out for herself and never really learned how to react to others’ thanks. She thinks she manages to mutter out something along the lines of, “Yeah, whatever, no problem,” but honestly there’s no telling - she’s too busy shuffling her feet and not making eye contact to really pay attention. He must sense it, because his words change from sentimental to almost business-like.

“I’ll see you Thursday, then? The main lobby at City Hospital, 6pm?”

Emma nods, grateful for the change in subject. “We’ll be there.”

He almost manages a smile. “Wonderful.” And then he’s gone.

(It’s not quite relief that Emma feels at his departure, but Killian Jones just makes her feel off balance, so it’s not sorrow either.)

------

Liam Jones looks rough.

Emma isn’t quite sure what she expected—she is coming to see a comatose hospital patient, after all - but it’s shocking all the same. She can see such a strong resemblance between the two brothers, but his frame looks diminished from a month hooked up to wires and fed through tubes, cheeks hollow and frame slim with an unhealthy, sallow tint to his skin. She can see the hint of a curl in his sandy brown hair, but it’s lank and slicked back. Overall he has the look of a man barely clinging to life, a barely breathing corpse, and it brings what two days ago in the kitchen was a theoretical problem into horrifying reality.

Maybe it’s just the harsh fluorescent lighting inside the hospital, but Emma Swan can suddenly see how awful Killian looks too. There are faint shadows under his eyes, and his cheekbones stand out in stark relief, more gaunt than they ought to be (though Emma does suspect that he always has those handsome, defined cheekbones, but this seems excessive and unnatural). Clearly, the worry over his brother is taking its toll on him.

Killian still tries to stay cheerful, plumping the pillows of a man who can’t tell one way or another and chattering away about “all these lovely ladies come to see you, you lucky bastard!”, but Emma can tell his confidence is wavering.

It’s only now, here at the hospital, that Emma realizes exactly how out of their depth they all are, how out of place to boot. They’re all here at the behest of a man they barely know, trying to help a man they’ve never met. No matter how Emma looks at it, she feels like an imposter, and even worse, a bearer of false hope for a man they may already be too late to help. Killian is trying as hard as he can to bring normalcy to this situation by making one-sided introductions, but there’s an awkward and heavy cloud that hangs over the whole situation.

It’s Elsa who’s the ice breaker, surprisingly, walking up and taking Liam’s hand like he’s anyone else she’d greet  in a meeting or on the street. Emma may have helped Elsa out into the world, but she’s still a retiring sort, shy and nervous about meeting new people. But she’s the one able to take the human, compassionate approach where the rest of them have fallen into the mistake of looking at Liam as a problem to be solved.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Liam,” she says in her soft, matter-of-fact voice. “We’re going to do everything we can to help you.”

And that’s enough to focus their attention and get everyone started.

Emma’s the first up, which is nerve wracking, but she’s the best at healing spells (way too much practice on herself), and they collectively decided that would be the first theory to try. Maybe, if they’re very lucky, this can be an easy fix, and Emma can sort out whatever is wrong with Liam’s brain the same way she would deal with a sprained ankle or broken ribs. Emma isn’t particularly hopeful, but looking over and seeing the trusting look in Killian’s eyes helps.

So she holds her hand over Liam’s forehead, gathers every ounce of concentration she possesses to collect the necessary magic from that well deep inside her, and releases it all at once. And yeah, it creates a nice little glow, but Emma can tell right away that it’s not going to work. She can already feel with her magic that there’s nothing to fix. She’s sure there’s better medical terms the doctors would use, but the closest she can describe it as is a feeling that his brain is stalled, or hibernating. She can help with some of the swelling, but Emma just knows, in a way that she can’t describe, that she can’t make him wake up.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to tell Killian with words about how she’s just failed; one look at her face, and what must be an incredibly guilty look, and he nods resignedly. “Thank you for trying,” he tells her, and that hurts almost as bad as her failure itself - the way he isn’t blaming her.

“We’ve got other things to try,” she adds, whether to remind him or herself still unclear.

And they do. Regina is already stepping forward with a list of spells to reverse sleeping curses, and Emma willingly passes the proverbial baton to allow the other woman a chance to try her solutions. A concentrated blast like she had just attempted is a pure burst of energy, and Emma welcomes the chance to slump into the nearby chair, no matter how uncomfortable, and take a moment to recuperate.

Emma has to admit - Regina is good at these complex spells, where each and every word has to be pronounced just so or it all goes awry. She’s also surprisingly gentle with their patient, brushing his hair back where a gust of magic must have tousled it, and Emma is surprised and gratified to realize that Regina must actually have a heart underneath that terrifying shell.

But even her skilled spellwork doesn’t do it. Liam Jones is still resolutely unconscious.

Back to the drawing board.

------

“I know technically it’s not a sleeping curse, but it’s not like magic is the most exact thing in the world,” Regina says, pacing the front room and blatantly contradicting her many soapbox speeches about how exact you have to be in magic and spellwork. “I was so sure it would work.”

She’s disappointed. They’re all disappointed. It had been heartbreaking to leave Killian with what was still only a shell of his brother, but they’d filed out one by one, Emma the last to leave.

“We’ll find something else that will work,” she says as confidently as she can muster.

“I believe in you,” he says. It’s funny how just those four words warm her heart. “But even if you can’t, I just want to thank you for everything you’ve tried. It’s a lot more than most would have done.”

(And damn if that doesn’t make her all the more determined to find a way to fix this.)

So they’re paging through the books again.

“There’s one here for ‘opening the mind’…” Belle uncertainly offers.

Emma shrugs in return. “Worth a shot. Can’t be any worse than that thing Elsa found about reversing a soul being trapped in the wrong body.”

They’ve made it through the obvious options - healing magic, sleeping curses - so the evening has been taken up by more outlandish suggestions. Light magic used in the wrong context doesn’t backfire, thankfully, so even their more absurd ideas won’t negatively impact Liam.

Emma has just shut one book and is about to open another when there’s a knock on the door. It’s late, nearly 9:30, and as far as Emma’s aware, they’re not expecting anyone (she’d been counting on it, actually, when she’d pulled on her fleece Mario pajama pants and an old t-shirt). But none of them are in the habit of just ignoring the door, so she hauls herself up off the old couch to find out what the hell this mystery person wants.

And (of fucking course) it’s Killian, standing there on the front porch holding a collection of Granny’s takeout bags like some sort of fried food fairy. And of course he looks bashful and adorable, while Emma’s in sloppy clothes and the glasses she never lets anyone see if she can help it. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“I, uh…” She can see his hand moving like he wants to scratch behind his ear, but he’s got too many bags and a tray of drinks to actually manage the maneuver. “I thought I’d buy you all some dinner as thanks for what you’re doing.”

Oh. That’s unexpected. Very sweet, but unexpected. “That’s, uh.... thanks. That’s nice of you.” She moves to take some of his load, and he gratefully hands her one of the stuffed bags. Emma can already smell the fried goodness, and she is so ready to eat (she may have forgotten to do so in the middle of all this research, a fact Killian undoubtedly knows somehow). Holding half the haul, she stands there, confused and with raised eyebrow, as the man on her porch makes no move to hand over the other half, and then some, of her dinner.

Seeing her questioning look, he smiles sheepishly. “I was hoping to maybe come in? Eat with you? I picked up something for myself as well.”

And suddenly, it clicks. He’s lonely, just like Emma used to be before witchcraft brought so many people into her life. He’d already said it; Liam is his entire world. And without Liam, he’s probably wondering what to do with himself. So she steps aside and lets him in the door.

“I hope it’s alright,” he says, “but I just went to the place down the street. They seemed to know everyone’s orders, so there wasn’t any guesswork.”

It’s more than alright. In fact, Emma’s switched her opinion and he’s clearly some sort of food bearing angel. The other ladies are in similar states of surprise and gratefulness - Regina earns a particularly baleful look for saying “Why are you here?” instead of a proper greeting - but dinner is a welcome distraction from their hours of research, and Emma is even convinced to give up part of her sprawl on the couch so the bearer of diner food can actually sit down. And then Granny is the saint, because the bags contain everyone’s favorites - some sort of salad and an iced tea for grease-phobic Regina; lasagna and a Reese’s milkshake for Elsa; a burger, loaded fries, and strawberry milkshake for Belle; and Emma’s classic grilled cheese, onion rings, and butterscotch shake. It’s just what they need to refresh their depleted energy, and offers a chance to step away for a few minutes and come back looking at things from a new perspective.

“Can I help?” he asks, halfway through his own bacon cheeseburger, and Emma can’t find any reason to say no. Especially not after he adds, “I’m surprisingly good at research.” This is an all hands on deck type of situation; another pair of eyes would be more than welcome for wading through stacks of dense text and Regina’s weird internet research.

He actually is pretty good at it, they find out. Killian Jones may not have a lick of magic in his entire body, but he’s got a knack for recognizing when some of the weirder wording might be applicable to their goal, like the “cleansing of the mind spell” that’s probably meant as a forgetting tactic or the “jolt of wakefulness” potion they could probably feed into his IV (and that Emma definitely wants to try on some of her stakeouts).

“Thank you for letting me be a part of something,” he tells her at the end of the night, his eyes hinting at meanings she’s not yet ready to understand. So she shrugs it off.

“We’re the ones who should be thanking you. You’re the one who brought us dinner, after all, and then stayed to keep looking at spellbooks. That’s not everyone’s idea of a good time.”

He smiles, a sad little thing. “Maybe not, but it’s an awful lot better than sitting at home, worrying about Liam and unable to do a damn thing.”

And she hates the confirmation that her suspicions were correct, that he’s lonely. But the good thing is, they can do something about the loneliness, because if Emma never had to be alone again after meeting her collection of witches, Killian won’t have to be either. Still, she tries to keep her words as nonchalant as possible. “Well, you’re welcome any time. Belle’s always looking for someone else to fuss over.”

He still smiles, like he can see right through her and knows Emma likes his presence too. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then, in a final maneuver she thinks must be unplanned, if the way his ears turn bright red is anything to go by, he grabs her hand to press a kiss to its back. “Goodnight, Emma.”

And then he’s gone into the night, leaving Emma wondering what the hell just happened.

------

They’re back in the hospital again on Saturday, this time at a more decent hour. Liam Jones doesn’t look any better in the full light of day, and it’s with some alarm that Emma thinks he might be looking worse. She hopes it’s all in her head, that her eye has been prejudiced by the sight of all the hospital equipment, but she can’t help but remember what Killian had said - that the doctors decreed Liam would need a miracle. It’s absolutely crucial, imperative, that one of their attempts work.

Killian is still trying to keep the positive attitude on in front of Liam, but Emma can almost physically see the frayed edges of his optimism. “The lovely ladies are going to try a few more things, Liam,” he says, adjusting blankets. “So hold still, would you?”

There is some progress. The wakefulness potion is a dud, but the spell for opening the mind does increase brain activity, so Emma’s counting it as a slight victory. Even if Liam is still firmly unconscious, Killian is thrilled to see any change in his status. But unfortunately, they still end up having to leave again without finding a real solution.

It’s a pattern that continues over the next two and a half weeks. Emma, Elsa, Belle, and Regina spend every spare moment researching, and Killian will bring them food from various local restaurants or, on a few memorable nights, cook a meal (and Emma doesn’t even really like fish but damn if that baked whatever with the lemon sauce wasn’t the best thing she’s had all year). Schedule permitting, they visit Liam in the hospital every two or three days to test out new potential cures, some with more success than others - the potion for “opening one’s eyes” turned out to do literally that, which resulted in a still unconscious Liam staring at them with unseeing eyes until Killian carefully lowered his lids again.

Killian tries so hard to hold on to hope, but Emma can see the toll this has taken on him. He’s gotten progressively quieter, his shoulders more slumped, the determined fire in his eyes becoming dimmer and dimmer. The more she sees his optimism fade, the more her own determination grows, until she finds herself pushing to try some of the more risky solutions that the other women are hesitant about, because anything has got to be better than making Killian just watch his brother slip away.

“I don’t understand why you won’t try these things!” she argues one night.

“Well, we’re trying to cure Liam, not cause his demise,” Regina drawls, and somehow that only makes Emma’s anger burn hotter.

“And this is better?” she demands. “Sitting around, just hoping the right solution will fall into our laps? When it hasn’t in the past three weeks?”

Belle, as always, is a voice of reason. “I think if we end up moving into the riskier options, that’s a decision Killian should make, not you, Emma. If that’s what he wants, I’ll be more than happy to try.”

All eyes turn to Killian. He’s been especially quiet and downcast today, only picking at his sandwich and fries. That’s part of the reason Emma’s pushing especially hard for a change in tactics today - it hurts in a way she can’t explain to see Killian like this. But even with so many eyes on him, he just sits there quietly, rolling a French fry back and forth between his fingers and not responding.

“Well?” Emma prods. “What do you think?” If she can just sway him to give it a try, maybe they can make this better, and maybe she can put that smile back on his face, the one he gave her when they first started this endeavor and he was still excited and hopeful…

But something within Killian must break, as he stands up and mumbles something about needing fresh air before he stalks out of the room, the front door banging shut in the distance.

Regina offers her a disapproving look that is, honestly, probably deserved for her actions. “Great job, Emma. I’m sure it was absolutely helpful to piss off Jones when he’s the one whose favor you needed to win.”

Emma glares right back before exiting the room herself, following Killian out to the front stoop and sitting down at his side. He looks a mess, honestly; his hair is all mussed from running his hands through it, and she now finds him clutching his head like he’s trying to block out everything else that’s going on. They sit there for a few moments in silence - Emma gathering her thoughts, Killian seemingly suppressing them - before she finally finds her words.

“I’m sorry for pushing,” she says quietly into the night. “I know this is all your decision, and you shouldn’t do anything that you think isn’t what’s best for Liam -”

“It’s not that,” he says, flapping a hand to wave off her concerns. “I appreciate all you’re doing, really. It’s just…” He trails off, head dropping again before he finally turns back to her and completes his sentence, so quiet she has to strain to hear. “The doctors told me today that if Liam doesn’t show marked improvement by the two month mark, the middle of next week, that he probably won’t ever. And then, I’ll have to seriously consider letting him go.”

Killian’s quiet explanation leaves Emma feeling like there’s suddenly ice running through her veins instead of blood. It’s been obvious from day one how important this is, but now they will have to contend with the fact that they’re running out of time. There’s no words she can say to fix the situation; she can’t even begin to imagine what Killian is going through. All Emma can offer is to take his hand and squeeze it gently, simply offering the comfort of not being alone.

“I don’t know what to do, Swan,” he murmurs. “I don’t want to lose him, but if we don’t do anything, it’ll still happen.” There’s a heavy pause, as he once again stares off into the darkness, lost in his thoughts, before he finds the words to continue. “I trust you, Emma, and I trust your magic. Do you think the best chance to save Liam is in some of these riskier options?”

She’d suggested it out of desperation, but the truth is, she does. They’ve gone through all the obvious and safe answers, so if they’re going to save Killian’s brother, they’re going to have to step outside their comfort zone, try other options.

So she takes a deep breath, gathers all her courage, and replies in as confident a voice as she can muster:

“I do.”

------

Regina and the others take the new direction somewhat better when the marching orders are coming from the man any issues would most affect. There’s still quite a few mentions of “If you’re sure…” but that’s more or less expected, and they continue on all the same.

They’ve really had to get creative now. It’s not entirely unexpected that they start looking for spell combinations that might work in tandem where they’d be ineffective alone, but Belle also starts dabbling in writing new ones herself, taking the useful parts of several different incantations and somehow mashing them together. It takes a skill with languages that Emma frankly doesn’t possess, but she thinks the results ought to be effective, and Belle gets excited talking about the potential for publication if any of them work.

Each of their next several tries is still woefully ineffective. Liam is stubbornly unresponsive, and all the attempts just result in utter exhaustion on everyone’s part. Killian tells Emma over and over how much he appreciates their efforts, her efforts, that he’ll remember that regardless, but they’re all tired and desperate and it’s not working.

Until it does.

It works. It finally all works. Emma is so relieved, she doesn’t have the words to properly describe it. Killian’s belief in her may never have wavered, but Emma’s faith in herself certainly had, and the last days had been plagued with the panic that maybe she wouldn’t be able to save Liam Jones after all, that she’d be forced to disappoint Killian and his beautiful hope. But they succeed.

She’s right, too; solution that ultimately works is so far outside the box that it’s a miracle in itself that they were able to devise its steps. The easiest way Emma can think of it is as the human equivalent of turning the computer off and then back on again: Elsa freezes his brain in stasis for protection, Belle enacts a complicated spell for removing the soul from the body in a shining ball of light before reaffixing it as Regina shocks his heart with a burst of magic like defibrillator paddles. Then Emma’s left to send another glow of healing magic as Elsa removes the freeze, the whole thing topped by a kiss from Killian to his brother’s sleeping forehead - a True Love’s Kiss. It’s a cheesy measure, one that makes Regina roll her eyes, but Belle had argued that it couldn’t hurt.

And it hadn’t. There’s not some ridiculous blast of rainbow light or anything, but the moment Killian’s lips touch Liam’s brow, Emma feels the world settle in a way she can’t quite explain but attributes to magic, to things setting to rights again, to a sleeping soul breathing a sigh of relief.

It’s not like the movies. Liam doesn’t gasp and sit up in bed, eyes flying open in a cinematically dramatic moment. But he squeezes Killian’s hand where it clasps his, and that’s enough to signify drastic improvement.

“Liam?” he asks, so hopefully, and while the elder Jones may still be unconscious, they all watch as his hand tightens around Killian’s. It’s conscious movement at last, and with that realization, the room becomes jubilant, exploding in a chorus of cheers.

There’s hugging and smiling and they may all be tired but Elsa lets out a little joyful screech, and it’s probably a miracle they’re not all kicked out. Somehow, Emma finds herself in Killian’s arms, and he’s smiling that smile again and there are tears in both their eyes and his face is just so close—

—and she kisses him.

It’s not planned, not at all, but her lips meet his and he’s kissing her right back, and God, she could get lost in this if not for the fact—

—if not for the fact that he’s only doing this because she saved his brother.

It’s like a bucket of cold water, that realization, and Emma steps back with wide, horrified eyes to find Killian looking at her with an unfocused gaze.

“Swan—” he begins, but Emma’s not willing to hear where that sentence ends - hear the excuses and the apologies and the buts. Almost before she knows it, she’s backing away until she’s out the door and into the hallway.

And then, Emma Swan runs.

------

She knows she’s really fucked up when even Elsa comments about her desperate exit.

“I know I’m not one to comment on others’ love lives,” she says, “but that was quite harsh, Emma. We might know about all your… let’s say struggles with dating, but the poor boy was just left there in a daze without any idea why you had booked it out of there.”

Emma really hates the picture that puts in her head, of a sad Killian just standing there with that stunned look on his face melting into confusion and disappointment. There’s a shock of guilt that accompanies that vision, but she does her best to push it aside. It was a moment of weakness on both their parts; it didn’t actually mean anything. Killian was undoubtedly just so happy that something had finally worked, which led him to reciprocate… whatever Emma’s excuse is. She’s still not entirely sure. Anyways, it was surely just a one-time thing. Her usefulness to him is effectively over, now that Liam is firmly on the road to recovery; they likely won’t ever cross paths again, now that there’s not any real reason for them to.

Of course, that’s not strictly true. Emma may not be having anything to do with the Jones brothers, and Regina is not enough of a people person to willingly pursue any further friendship without measurable advantage to herself, but Elsa and Belle are much better people who still stop by the hospital with dinner and check up on how both men are doing. It’s how Emma gets updates on Liam’s condition - how he finally opened his eyes and properly woke up two days after their breakthrough, how he’s still tired and healing and a bit out of it, but how the doctors expect him to make a full recovery, against all odds. By all accounts, he’s starting to get antsy, and Emma hopes he’ll be allowed home soon for both men’s sake.

“He asks about you, you know,” Belle contributes, and Emma can’t even pretend to not know who she’s talking about. “Whenever we walk in the room, he perks up for a moment until he realizes you haven’t come with us. Really, Emma, you’re being ridiculous.”

And she probably is. She definitely is. But she can’t get over the fear that Killian isn’t really interested in her, just in what she can do.

The weeks pass by. Elsa and Belle keep inviting her to the hospital, insisting Liam wants to meet her and Killian would just love to see her, but Emma dodges and avoids and works more hours, just to have an excuse not to go.

(She’d tried Mary Margaret at first, who had relished spending more time with Emma until she realized it was an emotional avoidance ploy. And then she’d flatly refused to be a part of it.)

At the end of the month, Liam gets to go home to the apartment he and Killian apparently share, and Emma gets to hear all about it. Elsa and Liam have apparently taken a liking to one another, which has resulted in even more visits and even more updates on all things Jones Brothers and the promise of an actual date once Liam’s well enough to drive them both to a nice restaurant. Emma’s happy for her friend, she truly is - Elsa deserves the world, after everything she’s been through - but it really throws a wrench in Emma’s plans to just never see Killian Jones again. If his brother and her roommate start dating, it’s a little inevitable that their paths will cross eventually, for better or worse.

Their latest ploy - ok, it’s not a ploy, but each invite Emma has to dodge feels like an individual attack on her resolve in some larger evil plan, so she’s sticking with ploy - is a welcome home party for Liam. Emma declines, almost out of habit now - she’ll find work or something to occupy herself, give herself a plausible excuse. The thing is, if she was to show up, it probably wouldn’t be that big a deal. They’d all talk and laugh and have a good time. Elsa’s trying to figure out what flavors of ice cream she’ll bring, and there’s sure to be cake. But Emma’s a wuss, and she might have feelings for Jones, hesitant as she is to admit it. She’s not sure she could take it if she spends an entire night in his company where he treats her as nothing more than a friend or, even worse, some sort of business associate. So she’ll stay home instead, thank you very much.

And she does have plans. They just involve executing a honeytrap on the latest jumper instead of socializing at some party. The problem is, those plans don’t last nearly as long as she anticipates, and Emma finds herself back home at the Tudor much sooner than she planned, sporting a number of scrapes from where she had to tackle her man to the ground outside the coffee shop. She’s barely limped inside and taken off her shoes, flipping through the mail in the kitchen, before she hears the awful dramatic doorbell that some relative of Elsa’s had installed God-only-knows when. Groaning audibly, she hauls herself downstairs again and throws the door open much more forcibly than she really needs to. “Look, I’m really not in the mood for whatever pitch this is,” she begins, fully ready to give whatever door-to-door salesman is bothering her a piece of her mind—

—only to find one Killian Jones standing on her doorstep.

The guilt hits her immediately as his face shifts through sheepishness to shock and then on to anger.

“You are avoiding me!” he accuses, and it takes every bit of willpower Emma possesses not to physically flinch at the words. Even if they are true. “I thought I’d come check on you tonight when you didn’t show, and thought I’d find you sick or working, or any reasonable excuse, but you’re flat-out avoiding me!”

His anger hurts, somewhat, and makes her feel guilty, but at the same time, those are fighting words. And Emma Swan has never been one to back down from a fight. Defenses raised, she shoots back with all the vitriol she can muster, “So what if I am? Most people would get the hint, or figure there’s a reason.”

“Well, as the one being avoided, I think I have a right to know the reason!” he demands, before softening once again, seemingly suddenly aware of his tone. “Look, Emma, it’s just… we kissed. And I thought it was a pretty good kiss,” he adds bashfully, scratching behind his ear in that way Emma has always secretly found adorable. “But then you just… ran off. And have conveniently not shown hide nor hair ever since. Did I do something wrong?” By the end, he’s almost painfully earnest, and Emma feels that knife of guilt dig just that little bit deeper. She still needs to stand strong, to protect herself from heartbreak, but there’s no reason for her to hurt him in the process, so she finally shakes her head, all the while avoiding his eyes.

“What then?” he asks, as gently as the situation allows. “Because I’m observant, Swan, and this? This is avoiding me.”

There’s a pause. A great, big, heavy pause. How do you tell a person the fears of your heart, when the greatest fear in your heart is letting anyone in?

He plows on, nonetheless, in the face of her silence. “I like you, you know?” he says softly, scratching behind his ear again, a tell-tale nervous tic. “I don’t know if that kiss meant something to you, but it did to me. Because I think you’re brilliant and fierce and… I like you.”

“You just like the magic,” Emma mutters. She can tell the moment her words process in his mind because he suddenly stares at her like she’s grown a second head.

“You think I just like you because you can wield magic?” he asks incredulously. He almost looks insulted, oddly enough, and it takes Emma somewhat aback. “Emma, that’s… that’s ridiculous, really. You really thought I only valued your company for what you can do, and not who you are? I mean, maybe at first…” he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and she’d almost think it was cute, if she wasn’t anxiously waiting for his next words. “But then I got to know you, Swan, and you were much more than that. So brave, and determined, and… honestly, anyone who’s only interested in you for your magic is an idiot, love. You’re so much more than that. Well, and you treat it like some kind of bloody ridiculous hobby instead of the power it probably could be.” Killian laughs at his own joke, and Emma cracks into a slight smile too, unable to resist the sound. “But no, Swan, I find you fascinating for many, many reasons, and your magic is the very least of them.”

Tentatively, Emma meets his eyes, seeking confirmation. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t disappoint, smiling and nodding back at her with a chuckle. “Aye. You’re a marvel, Emma Swan.” His smile is so wide, so full of hope and truth, that try as she might, Emma can’t find a reason to doubt him.

She’s never been good at this part of relationships - making the first move when things are still so tentative and unsure. But she can sense that Killian’s nervous too, can practically feel it rolling off him in waves, and that gives her an unexpected boost of confidence. This doesn’t have to be like magic, be precise and exact or the whole thing will fall apart and your nose probably will turn green. It doesn’t matter how either one of them approaches this, just that they do.

So Emma gathers all the courage she can muster, and steps forward to catch his lips with hers, creating a different kind of magic altogether.

It’s a little bit fanciful (okay, a lot a bit fanciful), but Emma can’t help but feel like there’s an energy that flows between her body and his, between her soul and his, as their lips move together - at first softly and gently, but then deeper, stronger, more passionate as lips open and tongues caress and they both lose themselves in the special magic of a first kiss. Some might call it fate, or soulmates; Emma’s not quite ready to call it anything yet.

(But she very well might be some day, perhaps sooner than she thinks.)

They’re both breathing heavily when they finally separate, foreheads still touching as if connected by invisible threads.

“That was…” he begins, a smile creeping over his face.

Emma quickly interrupts. “If you say magical, I swear to God, I’ll smack you, don’t think I won’t.” She tries to look stern, but honestly, her kiss-swollen lips and mussed hair from where Killian had slipped his hand into her curls probably ruin that illusion.

“Of course not, darling,” he good-naturedly replies with a smile and what she suspects is a suppressed laugh. “Who am I to challenge a witch?”

------

Killian Jones has no magic to speak of.

But he’s a great cook and patient with all the chaos only a house full of witches can conjure up - not to mention, a damn good kisser - so Emma’s more than willing to overlook that fact.

Magic and Killian don’t always mix - he’s particularly not a fan of how Emma sets off the magical equivalent of firecrackers under their bed for April Fool’s Day - but overall, he’s so casual about the whole topic that Emma wants to laugh at herself for believing even for a second that he’d have a problem with any of it.

Things change, of course. Their relationship strengthens and solidifies and eventually relocates to their own place when Elsa decides they could all use a bit more privacy (especially since things have gotten serious between the elder Jones and herself), but their relationship is the constant. That little corner within Emma that hosts her magic simultaneously boils and settles every time she and Killian are together.

Killian Jones couldn’t perform a spell if he tried. But sometimes, curled into his side in bed and feeling her heart glow with happiness as he pulls her just that little bit closer, Emma Swan thinks he possesses his own magic all the same, one born of the feelings they share for one another.

And that’s a witchcraft more powerful than any spellbook.

[pwesident]

dO ALL OF THEM

u make me suffer (I’m kidding thank u I love doing these)

SEND ME NUMBERS

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

@omgitsthatgingergirl !!!

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

yes

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

@omgitsthatgingergirl !!!!!

4. Are you easy to get along with?

i wanna say yes??

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

i don’t drink but i hope so?? yeah

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

this has always been a weird question for me like.. simply put & getting rid of details it could be anyone we just have to click you get me? but i want us to be similar enough so we have things to enjoy together and talk abt but not so different for it to be boring, which is why I’m beyond happy rn!!!

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

hell the fuck yeah

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

@omgitsthatgingergirl

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

nope not at all lmao

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

my friend Melanie!! or my friend Jake. One Of The Two

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Here we goooo”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

OH GOD 

Dragula by Rob Zombie

Redbone by Childish Gambino

Everyday Robots by David Albarn

Lonely Press Play by David Albarn

From The Sun by Unknown Mortal Orchestra

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

g o d y e s

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

YEA

15. What good thing happened this summer?

nothing this past summer sucked for the most part it was just one big Depression Session

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

im dating her so yes

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

would be lame if there wasnt 

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

yea!! she’s one of my best friends now

19. Do you like bubble baths?

i don’t take baths i love me a good shower tho

20. Do you like your neighbors?

half of them

21. What are your bad habits?

i procrastinate like a motherfucker & i sleep in too much & i never go out unless i either really really want to or am forced to & i forget to eat

22. Where would you like to travel?

anywhere the water is clear

23. Do you have trust issues?

YEAH THE WORST LMFAO

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

sleeping

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

yes

26. What do you do when you wake up?

keep my eyes closed and hope i fall back asleep or i take a drink of whatever drink I have on my nightstand

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

im like a ghost so i wouldn’t mind a tan or smth but otherwise I’m happy

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

friend & family & my amazing gf

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

no

30. Do you ever want to get married?

yes but in this economy it isn’t presently feasible (the second half is a joke yes i do one day want to)

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

not right now!

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

none gross

33. Spell your name with your chin.

 hicj (nick)

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

None but i like hockey!

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

tv goodbye

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

mmmmyes

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

nothing or “"someone please talk” if it’s bad enough

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

@omgitsthatgingergirl

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

i can’t shop im an impulse buyer

40. What do you want to do after high school?

be a psychologist!! i wanna help people a lot

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

depends on what you did.

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

probably either pissed right the fuck off or im zoned waaaaay out

43. Do you smile at strangers?

yeah!! spread that positivity

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

space

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

liquids, a need to use the bathroom, food, i have things to do, and i wanna text @omgitsthatgingergirl

46. What are you paranoid about?

all of my relationships and friendships are fake it’s all one big elaborate prank

47. Have you ever been high?

ish?? some concerts I go to have weed in high volume n the smell kinda gets to me and i get sleepy as fuck

48. Have you ever been drunk?

nope!!!!!! miss me with that fuck shit

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

no wtf

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

black

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

…yeah… BUT NOT RECENTLY LEGGOO

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

yes

53. Favourite makeup brand?

i don’t use it but i prob could/should

54. Favourite store?

…five below

55. Favourite blog?

SO MANY

56. Favourite colour?

SO MANY!!!

57. Favourite food?

SO MSANY OH GOD

58. Last thing you ate?

Chinese food

59. First thing you ate this morning?

…Gatorade 

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

no im lame as fuck

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

nope im a Good Child

62. Been arrested? For what?

IM A GOOD CHILD

63. Ever been in love?

yeah i am right now what’s up ask me anything

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

junior homecoming. 

65. Are you hungry right now?

…i just ate but I could eat more

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

yeAH

67. Facebook or Twitter?

twitter tbh

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr?? i guess

69. Are you watching tv right now?

no

70. Names of your bestfriends?

Angela ( @omgitsthatgingergirl follow my gf she’s amazing), SHOUT OUT TO LETITTY ( @tattami ), Melanie, Dennis, Abigail, Tiphanny ( @t-kristen go follow them!!), Nick, Victor/Vogner, Megan ( @lapisslazupee a quality meme), and a whole lot of others!!!

71. Craving something? What?

yes my gf to be near me so i can hug her and we can chill and sleep

72. What colour are your towels?

they change colors a lot there’s white and purple and blue and more

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

…four or five-

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

one rn his name is O’Shaugnessey 

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

S o m a n y

75. Favourite animal?

so many but wolves have a special place in my heart

76. What colour is your underwear?

currently it’s grey

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

yes

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

probably phish food

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

dark blue!

80. What colour pants?

they’re plaid i think?? w red and black they’re sleep pants and im comfortable as FUCK

81. Favourite tv show?

SCRUBS

82. Favourite movie?

… Moana? rn yeah 

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

first one

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

either

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

yes

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

im nemo 

87. First person you talked to today?

my friend jake 

88. Last person you talked to today?

couldn’t say still tkkkng to people

89. Name a person you hate?

a lot…

90. Name a person you love?

ANGELA!!!!!

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

YEA LMAO

92. In a fight with someone?

ish?? they’re just being… rude rn

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

i dunno like maybe two

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

at least 5

95. Last movie you watched?

Jurassic World

96. Favourite actress?

so many

97. Favourite actor?

EZRA MILLER !!!! LOVE THAT BOY

98. Do you tan a lot?

sometimes?

99. Have any pets?

three fat cats!

100. How are you feeling?

bueno 

101. Do you type fast?

fairly fast compared to my friends

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

the entirety 

103. Can you spell well?

as a writer (a shitty one), yes

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

a few

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

yeah? kinda

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

dunno tbqh

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

no!

108. What should you be doing?

sleeping, probably

109. Is something irritating you right now?

yeah lmfao

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

YEAH

111. Do you have trust issues?

you asked this (yes big ones)

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Angela

113. What was your childhood nickname?

nicky… if you call me that you’re dead to be tbqh like you’ve gotta be Real Close to call me that

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

mhm!

115. Do you play the Wii?

not for years but catch me at the resort

116. Are you listening to music right now?

not rn but i usually am

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

mhm!

118. Do you like Chinese food?

yeah but not much

119. Favourite book?

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (fucking read it it’s amazing)

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

yeah sometimes!

121. Are you mean?

i motherfuckin can be

122. Is cheating ever okay?

HELL THE FUCK NO WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THIS

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

who buys white shoes these days i don't 

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

yeah!

125. Do you believe in true love?

mhm

126. Are you currently bored?

a bit?

127. What makes you happy?

a lot of stuff

128. Would you change your name?

I’ve always liked the name Alex ngl but i probs change my last name i don’t want to be linked to my father more than I have to be

129. What your zodiac sign?

Cancer!

130. Do you like subway?

never been (not big on sandwiches)

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

knowing me, prob like them back

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

you asked this it’s my friend Melanie

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

check my blog title tbqh i change it to what I like most at the time

134. Can you count to one million?

 never tried but I probably could?

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

i don’t know but i know it was the dumbest shit

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

closed 

137. How tall are you?

6′1″

138. Curly or Straight hair?

yes

139. Brunette or Blonde?

yes

140. Summer or Winter?

a cool summer or winter so the answer is yes

141. Night or Day?

NIGHT

142. Favourite month?

i love december honestly 

143. Are you a vegetarian?

nope

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

yes?

145. Tea or Coffee?

hot chocolate 

146. Was today a good day?

yeah!!!!!

147. Mars or Snickers?

neither thanks

148. What’s your favourite quote?

there’s a lot 

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

yes

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“Trembling, I pulled myself from the shaft and tried to dust off.” - Virals, by Kathy Reichs. Great series, which I do recommend!