#also FUCK mayor jones

[spoupysoupyy]

continuing to indulge in scooby doo mystery inc fanart because i have no self control

shirt alts

since this post constantly gets traction, thought id edit it to mention i dont use this blog or handle anymore! if you’re interested in my art and would like to support me, go over to @cavity-collector!

[whimsicalcotton]

mystery inc continues to be the wildest fucking series

[scoobydoozies]

you mentioned liking fred SR and he def is very interesting i reallywish he had been freds real father butohwell.. plus him/the sherrif are the true gay represtation..

anyway it reminds me of how everyone in the velma show is well mean/minus norville/ yet i love FRED the guy who was suppose to be someone to root against and i found myself drawn towards Fred.. its inteessting how the characters made to be unlikable on purpose turn out to be more fun to watch in the long run.

yeah, i haven't seen velma so idk if this applies to hbo fred, but i feel like it's bc characters who are written to be bad on purpose are typically held accountable for their actions in some way, or at least condemned for them, and so you know the writers aren't trying to present those things as being okay. we can all just be like "haha, what a tool". whereas on the flipside, when characters you're supposed to like and root for do terrible things, and then don't face consequences, or admit they were wrong, or get called out by another character, ANYTHING, it's just uncomfortable lol

[da-rulah]

The Mayor's Daughter - Mary Goore x f!Reader [Part 3]

Summary: With the whole town coming out to celebrate the Bicentennial, you're back to playing Daddy's good little girl. Still, the lingering hurt from your last encounter with Mary simmers away inside you. But the festivities carry on, and you have to act the part.

All eyes are on you; including Mary's...

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol and drug usage, unwanted advances, jealousy, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill as mentioned in part 2), quickie

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

A/N: Another big thank you to the wonderful @angellayercake and @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading and workshopping parts of these chapters with me. I adore you endlessly, and cannot thank you enough.

"Mare, c’mon man, that girl is practically undressing you with her eyes!” One of Mary’s friends, Davey – only named as such since his surname was Jones and he did indeed look like a pirate with a kraken for a best friend – slung an arm around Mary’s shoulders where he sat at their usual spot by the bar. Mary almost choked on the sip of beer he was taking, shoving his friend from him with an eye roll and leaning back on the bar.  

“Told ya, I’m not into her,” he warned, taking another sip from the bottle neck.  

“Why the fuck not? She’s hot as hell...” Davey screwed his nose up in disgust at Mary, shamelessly looking towards the beautiful girl in motorcycle leathers at the end of the bar who only seemed to have eyes for Mary.  

“Leave him alone, Davey... You know that ain’t his type!” Forrest – also a nickname, given to him to take the piss out of his talent in track in high school – elbowed Davey in the ribs in jest.  

“Nah, Mare only likes that ‘princess pussy’,” laughed Jed – no nickname, that actually was his name. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jed,” Mary spat, not bothering to turn his head back to his friends.  

To those around him, it was obvious he was sulking. But what wasn’t obvious, was why.  

His friends weren’t aware of his second night with you, nor did they know why he had been in such a foul mood the last few days. But Mary’s mind was constantly occupied with re-enactments of the heated exchange on your rooftop.  

He flitted between feeling hard done by, like he had done nothing wrong, and digging his heels in, telling himself it was you being the brat and giving him a hard time over nothing. More often than not, he settled on the latter – he was just too damn stubborn to admit any sort of wrongdoing, too quick to be defensive of his actions and opinions as he had to be all of the damn time.  

“What, did she ghost you, Mare?” Jed taunted with an exaggerated pout and a puppy dog voice, “the Queen of Shiba didn’t call?” 

Mary span on his bar stool, glaring at Jed. “Nah, I told you guys; not interested. Good lay, bit of excitement, but I don’t go back for sloppy seconds.”  

And there it was; the male bravado, the toxic masculinity he’d learned as a product of his environment. Frankly, he hated it. He knew what he sounded like to his own ears, and that wasn’t him. But surrounded by the only people in this town to share his interests, he had to fit in. He was so desperate to fit in somewhere.  

This Mary wasn’t a reality; this was the stereotype that he was forced to live under to get by. And that was just the problem; Mary, just like you, lived according to how people believed he should live. But even Jed didn’t believe him, his tone monotonous and his face unwavering from the stormy little look that had been perpetually carved into it since that last night with you. 

“Listen man, if she stood you up or whatever, she ain’t worth your time anyway. Girls like that are nothin’ but trouble...” Jed leaned against the bar next to Mary, who looked down at him with disgust. 

“She didn’t stand me up, you fucking ape. I’m just not a repeat offender,” he shrugged.  

“Only ‘cause no girl in their right mind would fuck you twice, Goore,” Forrest teased. He meant nothing true by it, only intending to have a laugh, some banter with his friend over a beer. But it struck a nerve with Mary. 

“Fuck you, man,” he growled, slamming his beer on the bar behind him and standing up, grabbing his leather jacket from the back of the bar stool. 

“Oh come on, I was joking!” he tried to back-pedal, but Mary had heard enough.  

“Whatever, I’m out.” Mary slunk his arms into his jacket as he pushed through his friends crowding around him, past the girl at the end of the bar who, with a sparkle in her eyes, had thought he was finally coming to talk to her – only to be disappointed when he didn’t even look at her – and out into the street where the slight chill of a late-night breeze bit at his skin.  

Mary sighed to himself, fishing in his pockets for his pack of smokes and lighter, inhaling a long drag to calm his simmering rage in his chest. As he began to walk, his mind raced ahead, down tangents he hadn’t ventured in quite some time. He’d pushed them down, ignored them and continued the facade for too long, but they were bound to come back eventually – and Forrest may just have triggered that.  

Because sure, he hadn’t ever had a long-term relationship of any kind. Flings that lasted a month tops, yes, but nothing substantial, nothing with anything real. Mary was everybody’s dirty little secret, the guy they could never take home to mother and so no one ever did. His reputation preceded him; the angry little metal head punk who got into trouble, started fights, dicked about all the time. Who on earth would want to be with a delinquent?  

But that wasn’t him. That was just what people saw when they looked at him. 

Perhaps that’s why your dismissal of him cut as deep as it had. When you looked at him, that was all you saw too. He knew he’d never given you any reason to believe he was anything otherwise – he’d screwed you in a bathroom stall and snuck into your bedroom when your parents were downstairs, for fuck’s sake – but part of him always hoped someone might see through that, read between the lines, maybe get to know him a little.  

He’d certainly been intrigued by you... 

Daddy’s little girl, the apple of his eye, the town sweetheart... How dumb had he been to think a girl like you would ever see him as anything different than the rest of the world. Mary was nothing but a token fuck, a notch on your bedpost. You were experimenting, looking for a thrill in your drab little life; that’s what he told himself. He’d never be more than a dirty little secret to you.  

The more he thought about you, the more stupid he felt. It bordered on angry, realising now that while you spewed that bullshit about being put in a box, stereotyped and forced to live what essentially was a lie, you were doing exactly the same thing to him. Oh, you wanted the chance to prove you were more than your reputation? 

Well, so did Mary. But you wouldn’t give that to him, so why should he give that to you? 

Mary shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked through town, practically deserted at the late hour. He smoked and thought, mind whirring over you. He shouldn’t be stuck on this, but it bothered him. You bothered him.  

He thought there was some kind of connection there, if that last encounter was anything to go by. The way you’d held him close to you as he drove his hips into you, the way you gave in to him, trusted him... He thought you might give him a chance to show you there was more to him than just a good lay and a residual bad-boy image from his teenage years. But you gave him no such chance. 

Mary scoffed into the night, taking a long drag of his cigarette as he walked himself home. If he was going to wallow in self-pity and loathing, he wanted to do it in the comfort of his tiny little apartment with a cold beer and perhaps a joint.  

But most importantly, he wanted to do it alone.  

You were dreading tonight, as you dreaded every major event in this town that your perfect little family had to attend or host.  

The town’s bicentennial celebrations had been prepared for weeks ahead of today, and now today was the ‘big day’, as your father had been reminding you.  

“This town will remember who their mayor was on occasions such as this. It’s important, darling. You must look your best on the ‘big day’!” he had told you. You’d just nodded and smiled along, resorting to default ever since the night Mary had left.  

That reputation was so important to him. His political career was his first born, you were simply the second, less significant baby in his life. But, as the good little girl he saw you as, you dressed in the pretty red sundress you’d bought to match the red, white and blue of the occasion, did your simplistic, pretty make up and put on that dazzlingly sweet smile for the biggest event of the celebrations; the Bicentennial Fair.  

A couple of the farmers on the outskirts of town had graciously given up some of their land to host the fair, setting up a bandstand stage, fairground rides and games, some food stalls... There was to be a firework display, live music, and of course, a big speech by the reigning Mayor; a speech you would have to be on stage for, paraded as part of Daddy’s little trophy family.  

The thought of the town’s eyes on you made you feel sick. You wish no one knew you, that you were invisible. Well, not totally invisible... There was only one set of eyes you wished would see you; truly see you. 

“Darling, the car is here. Are you ready?” your father called up the stairs to you, impatience in his tone. You glanced in your mirror, one final fluff of your hair and smack of your glossed lips before you called back.  

“Coming, daddy!” 

“Ladies and gentlemen! Two centuries ago, a small settlement nestled on this land, and over the years, it has flourished into the vibrant, diverse, and thriving community we proudly call home...” 

You had to fight the scoff that threatened to rise in your throat, instead standing beside your mother with your well-practised smile in front of the crowds that flocked to the stage for your father’s opening speech. There was nothing ‘diverse’ about this community that shunned and bullied anything it deemed different. 

“As we commemorate this momentous occasion, let us take a moment to acknowledge the resilience and dedication of every individual who has played a role in shaping our town's story. From the pioneers who first set foot on this soil to the generations that have followed, each has left an indelible mark on the tapestry of our shared history!”  

While your father droned on about the achievements of the town throughout his lifetime and time in office, your eyes drifted over the crowd gathered at the stage. Near the front, you could see your friends, flirting with some of the college lacrosse boys they’d invited to hang out with you all. If you weren’t here by the demand of your father, you would slither on home the second his speech ended; no part of you wanted to hang out with the fake friends you’d never felt so disconnected from, nor the group of jock boys they were drooling over.  

If it were up to you, you’d no longer be friends with these people at all. Throughout school, they had been the ‘right’ people to hang out with, the ones that held up your image and you hung out with based on forced proximity alone, but you’d grown up since high school and college and these people were not your people. They were fickle, shallow and had no depth to them. You wanted interesting people in your life, people with substance, stimulating conversation, even something weird about them.  

Like him.  

Upon scanning the crowd past your friends, you caught sight of him near the back. He was ignoring the speech, as you’d expect, instead chatting and laughing with his friends, can of beer in hand.  

Your practised smile faltered slightly, chest tightening as you replayed how you’d left things with him the last time you’d met.  

“Don’t think we’re exactly compatible...” you’d told him. “Now you have no reason to come back.” 

You had put a hard stop on whatever was going on that night, and boy, did you regret that. Although only hooking up with him twice, you couldn’t deny the weird feeling of safety he gave you. He didn’t seem as shallow as the abundance of people in your life; he had substance, stories to tell. The first night at the bar, you’d heard a few of them... He had been trying to impress you with stories of band shenanigans or stories of pranks and borderline criminal activity but it was more interesting than hearing your ‘best friend’ Amelie droning on about how she’d let a guy spank her once – the height of excitement in her vanilla little life. 

The point was, Mary was interesting. Despite the tales he’d told you and the excitement he brought to your sexual exploits, there was more to him to unpack. You so desperately wanted to know him, even the dark parts of him. 

But you'd ruined any chance of that. 

You plastered the winning smile back onto your face, squeezing your mother’s hand as you shared a bright smile.  

“And so, tonight we celebrate the wonderful town we call our home. Please, enjoy the music, the good food, good company,” you father turned back to you and your mother with a loving smile before turning back, the crowd letting out a resounding ‘awwww’ at the ‘family man’ act, “and the fair! Please join us at 8:00pm for the fireworks!” 

The crowd clapped and cheered for him as they were programmed to do; for a moment it reminded you of that stupid movie with the minions screaming for their evil genius who wanted to steal the moon. Their loyalty to him certainly echoed that... But soon they dispersed, taking advantage of the fair, grabbing drinks and food and readying themselves for the fireworks due to start in just 20 minutes. 

“Mare, pass your lighter! Mine’s outta juice,” Jed outstretched his hand, and Mary – who had been lighting a cigarette – rolled his eyes, slapping it into his palm.  

“You brought sparklers? What are we, fucking 8 years old?” Mary laughed, expelling his first lungful of smoke.  

“Since when did we become miserable bastards? Go on...” Jed waved an unlit sparkler in Mary’s face, “you know you wanna...”  

Mary snatched it with a smirk, his cigarette flopping between his lips. He held the sparkler up, aligning the end of his cigarette and lighting the sparkler far too close to his face and yet somehow managing to do so smoothly without a burn.  

“Pretty...” he said, waving it about.  

“En-garde!” Jed shouted, pulling a ridiculous fencing pose and holding his own lit sparkler in Mary’s direction.  

“You fuckin’ idiot...” Mary laughed, joining Jed in a battle of sparklers as the first of the fireworks shot into the sky, lighting up the faces of the crowd gathered to watch.  

You stood and watched them, loud and beautiful as they coloured the dark sky. Beside you, one of the lacrosse guys was getting a little too close for comfort. He’d slunk an arm around your shoulders, your body language remaining closed off with arms folded over your chest. You think his name was Devon, and he’d been flirting with you since you stepped off the stage.  

“Pretty aren’t they, princess? Like you...” he mused, smirking down at you. You just smiled, unwilling to deny him the thought that he stood a chance with you in case it caused a scene. You’d rather all eyes were not on you tonight – at least as much as you could control.  

Your gaze wandered though, away from the firework display and over to the other side of the field, where you spotted Mary and his friends, goofing around with sparklers like unsupervised children. The smile on his face infected your own, seeing him enjoying a carefree moment of stupidity. You watched as the group battled each other like kids pretending to be pirates.  

“So fucking immature...” Devon scoffed beside you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. “Trust that punk and his creepy friends to spoil a classy evening.” 

You looked at him with a scowl, already pissed off with his presence but now also by his attitude. “Oh, I don’t know. Looks like they’re having fun, at least,” you defended as you turned back to look at the group of them. 

Mary dodged a swipe from Davey, fake-stabbing Jed who stumbled over his feet and dropped to the grass feigning death. He laughed at his friends, taking another drag of his cigarette before he looked up, and his eyes fell on yours...  

Time froze. You couldn’t hear the bangs of the fireworks anymore, nor the gasps from the watching crowd. Your stomach dropped along with the smile you’d caught from Mary, your arms tightening to hug yourself and make yourself smaller, cowering from his gaze. 

Mary had been worried he’d come across you here tonight... He almost hadn’t come, but he’d been met with resistance when he tried to back out. Now he’d seen you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you... Stood there in a red dress that mocked his memories of that red lingerie you’d worn for him, another guy’s arm around your shoulder. A jock, no less.  

It stung him more than he would like to admit. Not just with another guy barely two weeks after he’d last had you, but a guy like that; one clearly better suited to your lifestyle than himself, one you weren’t ashamed to be seen with. The anger he’d been working to diminish stoked into a flame of jealousy, as if you’d committed some kind of betrayal. He wanted so desperately to look away, but while your eyes were on his, he just couldn’t do it... 

The fireworks ended, the crowd clapping but the two of you stayed locked onto each other, until Devon squeezed your shoulder, snapping you from your trance.  

“We’re gonna go on the waltzers, babe,” he grinned, the premature use of a pet name infuriating you. You’d met the guy a few hours ago, and already he believed he had some moronic claim to call you that? It didn’t feel right, didn’t sound right. You much preferred ‘doll’ anyway... 

“O-oh, okay. Yeah, I’ll go...” you stuttered weakly, turning your gaze back to Mary who still stood there, watching as Devon guided you away with a look of disgust on his face, sparkler long since extinguished in his hand.  

Mary turned back to his friends, rejoining his group and ignoring you as best he could with so much unsaid between you. Defeated, you allowed yourself to be dragged into an evening you most certainly would not enjoy. 

Mary made up every possible excuse in the book to follow you from a distance throughout the evening. At first it had been out of jealousy, yes. He wanted to know what the fuck you saw in a guy like the one constantly finding ways to keep his hands on you. As he watched your interactions from afar, he saw this guy kept inserting himself into your conversations with your friends, finding new ways to come between you and them. His hands had moved from your shoulders, to your upper arm, to your waist and down to your hips, and Mary was practically vibrating with fury. 

His friends were none the wiser, still dicking about, going on the rides and playing the fairground games. With every can of beer they consumed, they became less and less aware of Mary’s intentions, to the point where they didn’t notice when he slipped away from the group to follow yours. 

The final straw had come when you were playing one of those rigged shooting games. Rows of ducks would pass by with targets on their backs, and you had to shoot them with little pellets in order to win a prize. Your aim wasn’t very good, not that you were really trying. You could give less of a fuck about any of this, only partaking at the miserably whiny complaints from your friends about being ‘no fun’ anymore. Out of five shots, you had missed the first two. 

“I got you, babe,” Devon stepped up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and enveloping your hands around the gun, lifting them as he lowered his chin to your shoulder to take aim for you. 

“I can do it, thanks,” you tried to tell him, but he just laughed, invading your space as he whispered into your ear. 

“C’mon, I’ve never seen a worse shot. Let me help...” 

You could feel him pressing against your back, his hips into your ass with the subtlety of a clown with air horns for shoes. Internally, you panicked... Telling him no and being adamant would cause a scene... a scene in a public place around everyone from your town. But you wanted nothing more than you shove him away from you, tell him to go fuck himself with a slap.  

Instead, you focussed on the game; the quicker you played, the quicker it was over.  

But from Mary’s perspective, his advances looked more than welcome; and it boiled his blood. 

Now alone and watching from beside a hot dog cart, Mary’s gaze had followed every tiny little move Devon had made, and seen the smug little smirk on his face when you hadn’t pulled away from him. Oh, how he wanted to smack it from him... But from where he stood, you didn’t exactly look like the ‘damsel in distress’ either. And he was no knight in shining armour... 

He felt more like a twat in tin foil, taken in by your wiles and flirtations, hoodwinked into believing for a second a girl like you would be attracted to a guy like him. Maybe that’s why you got so defensive when he asked what you saw in him? Because he’d rumbled your little game. Barbie had just been bored, and he was a new little troll doll to fool around with. 

You won, unsurprisingly. You made the last three shots with the unsolicited help of Devon, enough to earn you a small prize of a stuffed plushie resembling a lilac unicorn. You pretended you were excited, jumping about to get Devon off you and squealing with your girlfriends to divert the attention back to the group and not on you anymore. It worked, Devon folding his arms over his abnormally large chest and watching with a smug smile as you celebrated your win. 

“Uh, babe, think you forgot to thank the person who helped...” he interrupted, bending at the waist and presenting his cheek, tapping it with a finger. He expected a kiss... Your friends stopped cheering with you, now whispering excitedly at the clear flirtation they saw as a win. You, on the other hand, could barely keep the smile on your face, a sense of dread hanging over you.  

Once again, you were forced into a situation that backing out of would have more consequences than not.  

And so, hesitantly, you stepped back towards him, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek and mumbling a quick “thank you, Devon...” 

Mary’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles turning whiter than his face paints and threatening to crack like old leather from the force.  

“C’mon, I’ve got another idea...” Devon smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder again. “Let’s see which of you girls is the biggest scaredy-cat...”  

He was met with snickers from his friends, and some giggles from yours but ultimately, he got his way, and you were being dragged towards the walk-through House of Horrors to the edge of the fairground, lit up with flashing lights and pumping out organ music and evil laughter sound effects.  

Inside was filled with poorly made-up actors, cheap scares, tricks of the eye and dead-ends; exactly what you had expected. Devon let go of you to run ahead, in the hope he might find a hiding spot to jump out and yell ‘boo’ from, as was customary of primates of his low intelligence.  

You wandered through the mazes and puzzles slowly, losing the majority of your friends and hearing their screams as animatronics or actors jumped out at them ahead of you. You rolled your eyes, sick to the back teeth of their pathetic overreactions to get the boys to fawn over them.  

So, you purposefully headed in a ‘wrong’ direction, through a dizzying array of draped plastic sheets covered in dirt and fake blood, getting lost in them. The strobe lights flickered quickly, making any movement around you appear like stop-motion animation. You struggled to see much of anything at all, brief flashes illuminating the sheets around you. You thought you saw figures passing you, actors trying to scare and disorient you; frankly, it was working. As you pushed sheets out of your face, you span in every direction, losing your way and feeling more and more trapped the deeper into the sheet maze you stumbled.  

You were just starting to panic, when a hand wrapped its way around your throat from behind you, long fingers and cold metal circling your neck. 

You knew the actors in this place could touch you, but not like this...  

The rising panic in you exploded, limbs thrashing against the body behind you and squealing until a second hand slapped itself over your mouth and dragged you back through a flurry of plastic sheets until you were pushed up against a wall, your captor spinning to stand in front of you. You dropped your little unicorn plushie, gripping their wrists tightly like a knee-jerk reaction to being manhandled. 

Through the strobing lights, you couldn’t make them out in your panic, but you saw the fake blood first, as the actor leaned into your space and hovered by your ear to whisper into it. 

“Enjoying your date, Barbie?” 

Your eyes widened, your hands letting go of the wrists the held you and slapping against his arms and chest until he removed the grip on your mouth to allow you to speak. But he still had a hold of you... your neck, just like the last time... 

“Mary?!” you whisper shouted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The panic that had risen inside you subsided, but only slightly. You were still pinned to a wall in a house of horrors by your neck at the hands of someone you believed to be pretty fucking pissed at you after the last time you spoke. Still, an anger rose in you, triggered by the humiliation of allowing him to overpower and scare you like that. 

“Ken seems to be enjoying it,” he smirked, biting his lip, eyes watching you with mischief in his irises. 

“Not your fucking business, Goore,” you spat, “Get off me!” 

Mary backed off immediately, never one to hold you against your will. If you told him not to touch you, he wouldn’t touch you; a rule he lived by. So, his hands dropped to his pockets, and he took half a step back – still enough to keep you backed against the wall, but enough distance you could leave if you really wanted to. So far, though, he noted you made no such move. 

“Just find it funny, is all...” he scoffed, kicking his feet against the floor, lights still flickering around you both. You couldn’t get a clear look at him for longer than a split second under these strobes. 

“What?” you were getting more aggravated with every word that left his mouth. 

“You...” he looked back up at you, his face contorting into one of indignation, an anger that had been simmering away all evening. “Thought you weren’t ‘that kind of girl’. You look real comfortable in that box they’ve put you in, Barbie.” 

You wanted to be angry, but instead, hurt flashed through you like a white-hot branding iron had been shoved down your throat.  

“You don’t get to judge me on appearances, Mary...” 

“Oh, but you do? That seems fair, doll. Sitting up in your ivory fucking tower, looking down at me...” he hissed, slapping a palm to the wall beside your head and leaning over you. In the flashing lights, he looked more menacing than you’d ever seen him... His body was so close to yours, the heat of his anger emanating from him and working its way across you. You could smell cigarettes, leather and beer as his face hovered above you, that cologne from last time missing from his skin.  

“I didn’t ask for this, my frie-” Mary didn’t let you finish. 

“You looked pretty cosy to me, Barbie.” 

“Fuck you...” you spat, defiant and trying to appear as if his words weren’t affecting you, but how could they not? He was doing exactly what you had accused him of, judging you like everybody else. And with him looming over you, so close, so furious, it was hard to think straight at all... Caught between the instinct to slap him and run, or to pull him closer until you could feel all of him again. 

Mary threw his head back in almost maniacal laughter, slapping the wall from the hilarity of a joke you seemed to have missed.  

“Yep, fuck me. That’s all I'm good for...” he howled, making your brow furrow. What the hell did he mean by that? “I bet you still think about it, huh?” His eyes fell back onto you, running down your features, your neck, your body and back up again. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...” you denied. And it was denial, because yes, you did. Of course you did... Mary was the first and only guy to pay any attention to the fact you had any needs at all besides his own, the first to make you feel that strange, unwavering safety... 

“Sure you do. Those thoughts that linger in that pretty little head of yours... Daddy’s little girl, rebelling against him to fuck the town screw up,” he taunted, leaning down to exaggerate every syllable. “You still think about me, darlin’. I can tell.” 

You wanted to protest, to smack him and tell him he was being vile, no better than any other man who laid any kind of claim to you. The only issue was, a part of you had let him claim you. Part of you was his the very first time you let him in. Even now, the blush on your cheeks and the fluttering in your groin were indisputable. You thought of Mary every time you had a moment alone, every time you wanted to talk to someone with a personality, every time you touched yourself since...  

You’d driven yourself wild with the desire to have him again, let alone the desire to talk to him, to scream at him or apologise to him or something, anything. But no matter out of hatred, lust, longing or loneliness, he’d been there; a constant figure in your mind.  

You squirmed under him, thighs pressing together and body sinking against the wall as you dared to look him in the eye. His gaze felt like that of a predator stalking its prey, made all the more foreboding by the intermittency of light. 

“Tell me you don’t want that fucking cocksucker...” he growled. You hesitated, chest rising and falling in anxiety. 

“I-I... don’t want... that cocksucker,” you stuttered. You’d forgotten how to breathe, how to blink. Mary. Mary. Mary. That’s all your mind knew.  

“Tell me you want me, doll...” Your heart raced in your chest as Mary’s lips hovered above your exposed neck, warm breath fanning over the skin and raising goosebumps that he most certainly noticed.  

If you refused to say it, he’d back off. If you truly didn’t want him, he would walk away and never approach you again. And you knew that.  

The thought terrified you. 

“I... Mary,” you whined, laying your head back against the wall. How badly you wanted to say it, to tell him you wanted him. You did, so much. But that anger lingered in you, that hurt... He only saw you as the Mayor’s Daughter, the princess in her ivory tower – he'd said it himself.  

“Say you want me, doll...” His lips had moved to linger above your collarbone. “Please...” 

Above the sound effects of the house of horrors – the creaking of doors, the screams and rips of chainsaws, the ghostly cackles and ghoulish taunts – you barely heard him, hardly above a whisper. But the way he begged... If you dared to look down at him, to see the visible pain on his face, it might have broken you. You didn’t know why he sounded so strained, so full of despair, but you were sure you were not meant to have heard that. 

“Mary... look at me...” you told him, your hands cupping his cheeks as he took a deep breath in, raising his head. There was a strange vulnerability to him, one that you’d only seen brief flickers of in the past. “I-I want... I want you.” 

Mary’s face hardened, a rumble travelling up from his chest, his throat, and ripping from his lips with a snarl; the predator catching its prey.  

His body pinned yours to the wall behind you, his lips crushing yours in a frenzied kiss. No longer in the safety of your bedroom, you were forced to resort to desperate measures, unable to take your time with each other tonight. If you wanted each other, here and now, it had to be quick. It had to be quiet.  

But neither one of you could deny you needed each other, your bodies both so reactive. Mary’s free hand instinctively found your thigh, lifting it to his hip to press his heavy erection to your core so you could feel how much he needed you. Your muscles tensed at the feeling, your core clenching as if beckoning for him. Your fingernails dug into his hair, pulling him so tightly against your lips that they could bruise.  

The hand that kept him balanced against the wall behind your head dropped to push between you both, flattening against your mound beneath the skirt of the sundress you’d chosen tonight. Mary felt the damp stain against his skin and growled into your mouth, his tongue swiping against yours in time with the way his palm ground down into your clit.  

With no time to waste, he shoved the fabric to one side, sliding his fingers through your arousal and circling your clit as he bucked his bulge into the back of his hand. He parted his lips from yours, pressing his forehead against your own and groaning quietly as his jaw went slack from the friction in his jeans. You hooked your leg around his hip tighter, pulling him against you to encourage him to push those damn fingers inside you already.  

He obliged eagerly, slipping two inside – his rings only adding to the sensation – and curling instantly, meeting minimum resistance. You curled in on yourself, biting your lip to hush the moan that so desperately wanted to slip past. Despite the horror track on repeat around you, you really, really didn’t want to be caught like this... mostly because you didn’t want this to end yet. 

Mary worked you open expertly, having learned your body and what made you tick, committing you to memory. With every thrust of his hand and curl of his fingers, your chest barrelled forwards into him, forehead pressing into his as your lips chased his – except neither of you were coherent enough to kiss the other, jaws slack with heavy breaths taking over as your minds clouded with lust. 

“M-Mary... oh fuck, please...” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. Mary just nodded dumbly, retracting his fingers and sucking them into his mouth without hesitation, needing to clean them off quickly. He fumbled with his belt and zipper, pushing them down just barely enough to release his weeping cock, so painfully hard his tip glistened a deep red shade. 

“I’ve got you, doll...” he muttered, quickly lining himself up with your core and pushing himself inside until his hips lay flat against yours. So much thicker than two of his fingers, the stretch burned a little, both of you moving too fast to take your time with foreplay but you could care less; you needed him now, and you weren’t willing to compromise.  

You gripped the lapels of his leather jacket – the very same you’d stolen and given back to him – and held on tight as his hips began rocking against you. Both of his hands fell to your thighs, gripping you so tight you figured he would leave bruises in the shape of his fingerprints. Fuck, you hoped he would.  

With his hips he pinned you to the wall, lifting both thighs to wrap your legs around his waist and drive home over and over again while you held on tight. He buried his head in your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, biting at the skin as he lost himself in you. You felt like you were being mauled by a starving animal, the heat of your bodies and the swell of pleasure in your core only adding to the rabid way in which you let Mary take you. The way you grabbed at each other, held each other as close as possible proved how utterly entranced you were, and it frightened you. 

It scared you how much you seemed to need him, like he was the most addictive drug on the face of the earth. It scared you how much you had missed him, like a gaping wound had been left when you’d pushed him away and now that he was here, and he still wanted you, it was finally healing. It scared you to think that it could all disappear again, that if you let your death grip on him go, he would walk away for good.  

You couldn’t focus on that right now; you couldn’t focus on much of anything, in fact. All you could do was thread your fingers in Mary’s hair, gritting your teeth to stop the moans and screams that threatened to permeate the sound effects repeating from the speakers around you. Through the flashes of the strobe lights, you could just make out Mary’s expression of pained bliss. His eyes were screwed shut, features etched into a permanent growling expression. He pounded into you mercilessly, finding an angle that had the both of you losing your minds.  

“Fucking hell, I can’t... I won’t last, doll...” he warned, out of breath but unwilling to slow his hips. He was too far gone, needing release just as badly as you. 

“Don’t care, just... don’t stop!” you whined, pulling him by his hair to kiss him violently again. You just needed him.  

Mary wasn’t having it though; he would not be responsible for just his own orgasm tonight. He didn’t follow you in here to take what he wanted from you. Truthfully, he had no idea what had fuelled him to follow you in here except a burning desire to confront you, a force propelling him to get some sort of answers out of you. But the only question he needed answering was ‘do you want me?’ And now he certainly knew that you did. 

Securing your legs around his waist, his snuck one of his hands between you and pressed his fingertips to your clit as he fucked into you. In the position you both were, it was awkward and difficult, his fingers pressing to your sensitive clit hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain, but it was what you needed, and soon enough, you felt yourself hurtling towards a powerful and uncontrollable orgasm...  

“M-Mary!” you cried, trying so damn hard to keep your voice down, “d-don’t go...” 

“No, no no no I’m right here. Goin’ nowhere, doll. I’m here,” he assured you. “Come on, finish for me. I got you.” 

You let go, crashing your lips back to his if only to muffle your cries, too much pressure to allow your lips to move together at all. Your orgasm hit you violently, limbs spasming and muscles contracting as your mind sparked and short circuited. If Mary hadn’t been holding you up, you’d have slid down the wall to the hardwood floor beneath you, gasping for air.  

But Mary wouldn’t let you go, especially not when he was seconds away from climax himself. Your body contracting around him and the clenching of your walls on his cock had him losing any composure he’d mustered. Before he knew what he was doing, he was cumming inside you, filling you so full of his essence.  

He pushed his body to lean against yours, propping you both up on the wall as you came down together from the powerful high. The speakers muffled your heavy breaths as you both learned to control them, the flashing lights offering some kind of privacy amongst the plastic sheets that concealed you against the dead end to the maze. 

When the fog began to clear, you allowed yourself to look at Mary in front of you, dripping sweat from that spike of hair he called a fringe, his make-up patchy and shining with each flash of light. Unsure of what to do or say now, you opted for awkwardly tracing your fingers over his make-up, avoiding his eyes that watched you intently.  

“Are you, um... You okay?” he asked, gently setting your feet on the floor and moving his hands to your waist as he pulled his hips away from yours, leaving you feeling empty. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear that had stuck to your forehead from the humidity of the both of you, before adjusting your panties back to where they should sit, and tucking his softening length back into his jeans.  

“Yeah... I’m okay,” you half smiled, awkwardly readjusting your dress and feeling the uncomfortable feeling of Mary leaking from you... “You?” 

“Y-yeah, I mean...” He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “Guess I got carried away.” You reached up to take his wrist from behind his head, entwining your fingers with his instead. He watched you closely, unsure what to say. 

“I don't mind,” you smirked, “I’m glad, even. I think... maybe we both needed that.” Mary smiled, avoiding your gaze again and nodding while he fiddled with your fingers between his.  

“We should, um... probably get out of here. Before your friends come looking for you, I mean.” He was right, eventually they’d come back for you, thinking you’d got lost in one of the mazes in the house of horrors. You’d rather they didn’t catch you holding hands with Mary Goore; you weren’t willing to try and explain that to them. “You hungry? There’s like, a hot dog cart out there and some taco trucks, maybe if you-” 

“I can’t...” you interrupted him, your smile faltering. You couldn’t walk out of here with him. You couldn’t be spotted at the damn bicentennial fair with Mary. Your father was here somewhere, his goons, people from the town... If they saw, it would be bad. It would be so bad. “We can’t, Mary.” 

 An uncomfortable silence settled over you, Mary’s expression turning to one of hurt, his face paling. He chuckled darkly, letting go of your hand only to run it over his face as he shook his head. 

“Wow. Yeah, okay.” 

“I’m sorry, it’s just-” 

“No, no, I get it,” he held his hands up, taking a step back from you. “I wouldn’t wanna be seen with me either.” 

“Mary, please-” you stepped towards him, but he took another step back.  

“No, y’know what? You’re... you’re unbelievable,” he sneered. “You wanna claim you’re stereotyped, you’re so fuckin’ hard done by? Maybe if you don’t wanna be judged on appearances, you should learn not to do it to other people.”  

His face was one of thunder, quickly defensive again. But you saw why now... It took Mary spelling it out for you to see; you were doing to him the very thing you’d accused him of. Your own medicine certainly tasted bitter... 

“Mary, I’m sorry, but my father is here!” you tried to protest, only managing to rub salt into the wound. Tears stung at your eyes, the panic that Mary was slipping away again setting in. You didn’t feel lonely with Mary. You could be in a crowd of people who all knew your name, and still feel alone. But not with Mary. Yet he was slipping away again.  

“This ain’t fair. You can’t just... pick and choose when it’s acceptable to be around me!” he raised his voice, and you stepped toward him again to shush him, worried someone might hear and find you... Mary saw this as further confirmation you were ashamed to be seen with him, lifting his arms out of your grasp and stepping back another step. “No! I’m tired of being everyone’s dirty little secret.” 

Before you could make another move or think of anything to say in your defence, Mary turned and walked through the plastic sheets, swatting them harshly out of the way until he disappeared from your view, leaving you stood alone in the flashing lights and special effects, tears staining your cheeks and a sob caught in your throat. 

You were alone again.  

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7 | PART 8

Masterlist | Tip Jar

Tagging those who asked, and some of my mutuals who may or may not enjoy this!

If you want to be added/removed from my tag list, please let me know!

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[distinguisheddwarffriend]

Today on Hobbit-Headcanons:

What would the company of Thorin Oakenshield enjoy about the Modern World?

One of my WIP transports the company to our world shortly before they're supposed to reach Rivendell, and into the apartment of my OFC.

So here is a list of things I think each character would enjoy about the Modern World:

Thorin: Google Maps, Siri (will totally argue with her like she's real), Shows like The Crown, Game of Thrones, but also Bridgerton, Democracy (yes you read that correctly), Rock music

Fili: Birth Control (can finally fuck around without risking the royal lineage), Superhero Movies (has an huuuhe crush on Black Widow), Tinder, Martial Arts, Feminism, Henley shirts to show of his muscles, bars & clubs

Kili : TikTok (LOVES cat videos, Top Content Creator about Archery, 'deep thoughts'/rambling, 'prank my uncle/brother with me', does EVERY challenge, accidental thirsttraps & flustered by the comments), Parkour, Man Buns & (Hipster-) Fashion, LGBTQ+ - Community , karaoke bars, team sports, the zoo

Bofur: modern music (especially pop songs with dirty lyrics), Tumblr (is no. 1 shit-poster), music festivals, arts&crafts blogs, Christopher's Streets Day

Bifur: Google Translate, Modern Medicine, Pain Medication, ASL, RomComs (trust me), helps out in an animal shelter, country music

Bombur: Cooking Shows (has his own Online Show), Kindergarten (he had so many children, the reprieve would be SO appreciated), international foodstuff to try

Dwalin: Guns, MMF, store-bought cookies, sport shows (AGRESSIVE fan for whatever team he randomly picks), Barbecues

Balin: Twitter (the political possibilities!!!), mental healthcare (he's sending the whole line of Durin he had no time for their shit), Spa Days, public schools, classical music

Oin: Modern Medicine (Duh), hearing aids, physiotherapy

Gloin: bitcoins, the stock market, Facebook (posts daily about Gimli)

Dori: hair tutorials, fashion shows, tracking devices (has totally microchipped a drunk Nori at some point)

Nori: hacking, movies with the lovable rogue as the MC (Pirates of the Carribbean, Deadpool etc.), spy movies (duh), the mafia (yes, he becomes a boss within weeks)

Ori: Wikipedia, public libraries, tutorials for EVERYTHING (knitting, cutting your own hair, how to talk to royalty, fancy war cries, you name it), fantasy novels, public schools

Bilbo: Food blogs, the "ignore call"-button, Instagram, university (will mayor in at least three subjects), museums

Gandalf: the Internet as a whole, email/ instant messaging, yard sales, modern weed, museums (has a knack for finding cursed items), adventure movies (after watching Indiana Jones he seriously debated obtaining a whip)

[leclerc-s]

a nonsense christmas

series masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, nataliaruiz, arthur_leclerc and others

maejones 'i caught that holiday glee, my true love gave it to me.' i present to you a nonsense christmas.

view all comments

danielricciardo i thought you couldn't get anymore unhinged after nonsense, i was so wrong.

daphnejones mae, what the hell is this song.

↳ maejones it's a christmas song daph! do you not like it?

isabellaperez brb gonna go play it for christian and my uncle!

↳ maxverstappen1 ISABELLA DON'T YOU DARE!

↳ isabellaperez OH IT LOOKS LIKE JOS IS IN THE GARAGE!

↳ maxverstappen1 ISABELLA!

↳ user89 oh to be apart of this friend group

penelopetrevino sometimes i wonder how people think i'm the horny one when mae writes shit like this.

↳ dulceperez you wrote mayores. daphne wrote dress. mae wrote nonsense. i think all three of you are equally horny

user41 well i made the mistake of playing this infront of my parents i will never recover.

↳ user09 NO! OH I PRAY FOR YOU

esteban ocon i'm supposed to be able to look max in the eyes now?

lewishamilton i renounce our friendship. good luck to fernando and seb, but i'm done. find someone to replace me. maybe kimi or valtteri. hell kevin or hulkenberg might like these guys.

↳ georgerussell63 good luck being able to get away from us

user32 i fear jos is questioning who his son is dating and who his friends are

↳ landonorris oh, he did that way before this song or nonsense came out

isabellaperez JOS VERSTAPPEN IS NOT A FAN OF A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS! I REPEAT HE IS NOT A FAN! MAX TELL HIM TO PUT THE FUCKING FORK DOWN!

↳ user13 there's no way she actually did it

↳ maxverstappen1 I WARNED YOU NOT TO DO THAT! HE WASN'T GOING TO LIKE IT!

↳ user13 i stand corrected

↳ danielricciardo THIS IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER FUCKING SEEN! NETFLIX BETTER BE RECORDING THIS BECAUSE IT'S COMEDY GOLD!

↳ alex_albon SHE JUST RAN PAST THE WILLIAMS GARAGE!! I THINK I'M ABOUT TO PEE FROM ALL THIS LAUGHING!!

↳ nataliaruiz PEOPLE! IT'S NOT JOS CHASING HER WITH A FORK! IT'S MAX WITH A WATER GUN! JOS LEFT THE GARAGE AFTER ISABELLA PULLED HER LITTLE TRICK!! HE HAD A FORK BECAUSE HE WAS HAVING LUNCH WITH MAE!!

↳ maejones YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED UNTIL HE WAS ALONE? I CAN NEVER FACE HIM AGAIN! OH MY GOD, DIGGING MY GRAVE AS WE SPEAK!!

↳ dulceperez she looks like a wet and angry kitten

isabella perez MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN I WILL BE GETTING MY REVENGE!

max verstappen I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!!

isabella perez DULCE MARIA PEREZ! YOU'RE FUCKING NEXT!

esteban ocon she's in the alpine garage and she does look like a wet cat

oscar piastri i think it's kinda cute

logan sargeant AY-YO? ARE WE JUST GONNA SLIDE PAST THAT?

alex albon i think the songs kinda catchy.

daniel jones-ricciardo i did not need to know max had big snowballs.

mae jones you've literally seen him naked before pierre gasly UM WHAT? daniel jones-ricciardo IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! HOW I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE WAS NAKED? max verstappen THERE'S THIS NEW THING. IT'S CALLED KNOCKING daniel ricciardo DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE QUOTE ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS AT ME MAX!

fernando alonso i worry for all of you. also what does 'you got a new toy for me' mean? aren't all of you too old to be playing with toys?

esteban ocon i know you're not that fucking naive fernando. stop fucking with them. fernando alonso but it's so much fun

lewis hamilton OH MY GOD! SOME THINGS ARE BETTER KEPT A SECRET MAE!

mae jones so my sister can write dress and scratches down daniel's back but i can't write about max's dick?

carlos sainz i am permanently scarred. some things i can't ever unhear.

george russell i am in shock

esteban ocon i need 3 to 5 business WEEKS to recover from this.

sebastian vettel i'm speechless and not in a good way

mick schumacher ignoring who the song is about and that i know the singer, it's good.

freya vettel a certified christmas bop

natalia ruiz I NEED THAT CHARLES DICKENS. YOU'LL BE SANTA CLAUS AND I'LL BE MRS. I'LL TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE, I'LL BE YOUR VIXEN. I DON'T EVEN KNOW I'M TALKING CHRISTMAS!!

daphne jones-ricciardo i know someday you two idiots will have children and i pray they never find this song. just like i pray they never find mine.

rowan todd digital footprint is real guys, just look at timothee chalamet, the superior french guy.

esteban ocon uh oh, i think they're fighting again. dulce perez alright, what'd you do this time gasly? pierre gasly why is it always my fault? dulce perez it's always your fault bitch, so what'd you do? pierre gasly i didn't do shit, this time, she's just mad because i ate the last croissant. natalia ruiz uh oh, i know those symptoms. charles leclerc the world is not ready for little pierres rowan todd i'm not pregnant (i think) pierre gasly what the fuck??? isabella perez ARE WE GETTING ANOTHER BABY?? SO CLOSE TO BABY LECLERC?? AWWW!! YES!!

max verstappen god i hope not. one mini charles we can handle but a mini pierre no please no.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie

¡leclerc-s speaks! shout out to @bb-swift who replied to nonsense and reminded me that a nonsense christmas existed. let's not talk about today's gp and use humor to cope. as a charles girlie i am struggling today as i have the entire season. i've also created a google form for people to fill out if you wish to be added to the taglist to any of my series.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[wasabijean]

Why do people treat Thrax and Osmosis like That? A Discussion About Fandom and Antiblackness

Happy black history month!

I’ve been considering making this post for a long time, and I wasn’t sure when, but I think now is a good opportunity.

NOTE: Let me preface this by saying that with a movie with a predominantly black main cast, the fanspace has been predominantly white/non-black, and I feel that has effected the conversations surrounding this movie for a long time.

Fandom, in general, continues to have white voices and perspectives highlighted, while black and poc voices are drowned out. Compare 2014 to 2024, and it’s obvious that there’s been a shift in diversity among all fanspaces, and I’m so very glad.

I want to continue this shift, by giving my own perspective as a black person who loves this movie, and I’d like to highlight the way the OJ fandom has treated these black characters (and spoiler, it hasn’t been great.)

Firstly, too many people are comfortable with portraying Thrax as this sexual r*pey monster, and I need it to stop. ESPECIALLY when he’s explicitly a black coded character.

From what I’ve seen observing and participating in this fandom over the past few years, is that Thrax and Ozzy is a very popular pairing, and honestly, I’m not a fan. It’s onesided, there’s not that much chemistry on screen except the dynamic of Jones being afraid and Thrax trying to kill him. I can’t control what people ship, but I absolutely can condemn the way people have paired these two up. Because… As a black person, I don’t like seeing these black characters in (oftentimes if not always) inherently racist dynamics.

Let me explain:

CW // mentions of racism, rape, grooming

Both Jones and Thrax are black coded characters. They use AAVE, have black VA’s, and Thrax literally has locs While Mayor phlemming is very much racist towards Jones in the movie (ie refering to him as “incapable”, treating Ozzy badly why Drix is praised, there’s obviously racial coding there). So, I can say with certainty that these characters are black, because of how theyre treated and also the cultural motifs in their story and character.

With that said, in the pairing of Ozzy and Thrax, so many people depict Thrax as this sexy controlling or possessive boyfriend that’s monsterous and the “top”, while Jones is the submissive scared stupid and sensitive “bottom”. I’ve seen this in fanfic, fanart, etc. It’s a shame that these characters have been boiled down into something like this, especially when I love Thrax as a villain, and I think Jones does a great job standing his ground as a hero even when he’s scared.

Thrax has high kill count and he wants to keep the killing going, and it’s refreshing to see a unrelentless villain like that in kids Animation; That’s one of the reasons why he’s so popular. But, everytime I bring up this character to people, its either “he’s so hot i need him” or “he should fuck osmosis”. Pushing aside the good writing of black characters in order to satisfy sexual fantasies via a ship is Certainly a Odd Choice. But, it happens anyway in a lot of fanspaces, and Osmosis Jones is no exception.

This type of dynamic of Thrax in particular just continues to perpetuate stereotypes of black men that are inherently racist. (ex: black men are rapists, are hyper sexual monsters, etc). Like, Historically, this stereotype has been used to dehumanize and incarcerate black men, And the stereotype in its self began with American slavery and the practice of “breeding” the enslaved. So, why do so many people continue to project this type of behavior on Thrax (particularly with Jones)?

Is it because he’s hot? Or that he’s just sexual in nature? Or was it that “big daddy thrax” line in the movie? Regardless of how Thrax was written compared to how he has been protrayed in fandom spaces, at the end of the day, thats fanon. Thrax isn’t a sex monster, he’s a egotistical virus with the intent to kill and win!

Themes of R*pe come up a lot with Thrax fancontent, for some reason. Maybe it was the choking scene, because it has sexual themes, but is not consesual in the slightest. Majority ozzy and thrax fanfics on AO3 have tags for Non-c0n and explicit. Sometimes, instead of fanfic it’s digital art, and it isn’t always tagged.

I vividly remember scrolling on tumblr when I was 14, looking for Osmosis Jones art, only to be flashed by r*pe and explicit content of Thrax, Jones, Leah. I remember Leah, a black woman character, often being pushed to the side and demonized. Little black kid me got so, so scared of the fandom, because of the racism and graphic content.

So, I kept lurking, holding my breath as I scrolled, and never interacting or posting my art, sharing my ideas, nothing. I felt alienated from the fanspace of a animated movie meant for kids, a movie that I loved. Online fanspaces are a great way for people to find other’s who have the same interest, but that wasn’t the case for me. I was deprived of something I should’ve had fun with, especially as an autistic kid who had no one else to talk to about the things I liked. I hated it; being uncomfortable and scared, because of something I loved, but feared the things that could come with it.

I tried overcoming that fear and branching out but it ultimately got me groomed by people who liked the movie on different occasions, and now that I’m 18, older, and wiser, I don’t want repeats to happen to anyone else.

There is no reason a animated movie, that’s meant for children mind you, has had such a racist and explicit fanspace.

There is no reason to not properly tag your content, not just for organization purposes, but for safety.

There is no reason why the most popular ship in this fandom is the one that has so much underlying themes of racism and SA, canonically and in fanon.

This is just my opinion, because I think black voices are important in fandom especially when so often overlooked, and I’m willing to discuss this further or answer any questions. It’s just tiring as a black person to keep seeing this happen with black characters.

[boanddonatetoblacktranspeople]

Rough Outline List of People(ish) inside the Paranatural ‘Masquerade’:

Richard Spender’s father, mayor of Mayview, snack for Davy Jones

Richard Spender, Mayview middle school teacher, Consortium member

Penny Spender, Spender’s sister, apprentice to Mr. Garcia, secret swiper of Dr. Zarei’s lantern

Maxwell Puckett, protag, spectral, son of June Puckett, has a spirit that may be the lost piece of an ancient powerful fractured spirit in Mr. Spender, also possessed

June Puckett, Max’s mother, former Consortium Agent

Dr. Zarei, old friend of Spender, previous member of Consortium

Mr. Garcia, partner to Spender, werewolf, apprentice of Cody’s mom

Mrs. Jones, former Cousinhood member, Cody’s mom, Davy Jones’ wife, werewolf

Davy Jones, vampire overlord, father to Cody, resident business mogul, owner of Mayview Academy, President of Razor Rex’s cult, PTA (Phantom Threat Authority), doctor of local hospital, and police chief

PJ (P__ Jones?)- Ghost, friend of Max, theorized old son of Davy

‘Lefty’, ghost hand, theorized left hand of Davy Jones, severed by his own sword???

Cody Jones, half-vampire, son of Davy Jones

Isabel Guerra, spectral, Paranatural Activity Club member, daughter of Angel Guerra, granddaughter to Master Guerra

Master Guerra, ghost, mentor spectral-teacher of own ‘faction���

Angel Guerra, father of Isabel, mentor to Penny Spender, has own spirit ‘faction’

Valeria Day, Consortium agent, former apprentice of June Puckett

Agent Walker, Consortium Agent

Boss Leader, actually a still-intelligent Wight

Ms. Rose Baxter, Phantom Threat Authority member

Ed Burger, spectral, child of the Burger parents who disappeared into a dream realm (??), Paranatural Activity Club member

The Doctors Burgers

Isaac, spectral, Paranatural Activity Club member

Coach Oop, Phantom Threat Authority member

Dimitri, former Paranatural Activity Club member, possessed

Fauxbia , the Fear Witch, Vice Principal of Mayview Middle School

Gage, local vampire thralled under Davy Jones

Paige, local vampire thralled under Davy Jones

Youth Culture, local vampire thralled under Davy Jones

Police department members under Davy Jones’ thrall (chief of police as well)

Ritz Price-Lee, local rich academy student, vampire-thralled by Gage and crew

Sophie Sibyl, local mystic shop owner, double agent in Phantom Threat Authority

Isabel’s grandfather’s dojo

Agent Savage, Consortium double-crosser for allyship with the Phantom Threat Authority (for money), member of band Max and R.J. saw

Agent Scabs

Agent Popova

Agent Pasha

Agent Stix

Agent Stucks

Other Consortium members

Lisa(???), friend of Isabel, secret school ‘bar’ owner and information barterer - Definitely has powers and inside knowledge but we dont know WHO she’s connected to here

Amy Chen, Isabel’s mother, daughter of Master Guerra

Captain Hattie Henchman, mother of Stephen, part of Davy's police force, and acts as security at the Phantom Threat Authority meetings

People on Edge of the Masquerade:

Alex, about to be possessed by an alien-looking spirit OR actual alien(???)

Johnny Jhonny, possessed by Forge, see below

Ollie Oop, resident bully and friend of Johnny, son of cult member Coach Oop, saw the Paranatural Activity Club members flying in Ghost Train

Stephen Henchman, Johnny's bully friend, son of police officer Captain Henchman, part of Davy's police force, also saw the Activity Club float

People Outside the Masquerade (???):

Mr. & Mrs. Starchman (??)

Violet, friend of Lisa and Cody

Peter Puckett (??), Max’s dad

Zoey Puckett, Max’s sister

Isaac’s anime-looking parents????

R.J., resident bully and friend of Johnny

Suzy, Journalism Club lead, friend of Dimitri, has confused crush on Isabel

Collin, Suzy’s friend

Jeff, despite being piloted by artificial spirit Hijack, friend of Cody

Shred Eagle (???)

Damian & Sam, younger siblings of Agent Day

Principal Pleezedoo

Student Council (?)

DJ Mothman

Professor Bigfoot (?)

Lavish Price-Lee, ex-wife of DJ Mothman

Nicole Spender (??)

yes, rick. indeed. fucking. why?

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[cws: drugging, SA and SA apologia, fantasy racism/ableism, forced institutionalization.]

-

i know i never shut up about it but god i am still just. So Salty about how the show handles the dynamic between mayor jones and pericles for many reasons, and one of the biggest is that there are really strong overtones here of sexual assault.

a character who already brings to mind the Slimy, Shady Cis White Guy with Buried Allegations archetype:

takes advantage of the trust of someone who's doing something with him in secret--

(which will get that person in a disproportionate amount of trouble compared to him, if they're discovered)

--to catch him off guard so he can grab him, drug him, and do violent things to his body while he's unconscious; scars him for life in a way that is disabling and should cause a lot of ongoing suffering, which, like many other things that should have a strong negative impact on him physically or psychologically, the writers ignore; and dumps him there alone to discover what's been done to him when he wakes up.

specifically, he does this to someone from a marginalized group that's highly unlikely to be believed if they tell anyone what he did--and going by the fact that mayor jones never got in any trouble until present day, he wasn't.

goes out of the way to ruin the life of the victim and discredit him as thoroughly as possible, because he's a loose end and he needs to shut him up.

flees the scene and gets away scot free with this for twenty years, has a successful privileged career and is considered a pillar of the community in the meantime.

when his dirty secret, which he's been paranoid about finally facing consequences for after the victim has recently become a risk again, is discovered, it's a huge career-ending scandal.

is redeemed by the end, while his victim goes on to be the Monstrous Irredeemable Pure Evil Main Villain and also sexually abuse someone himself, which is played as horrific and traumatizing (as it should be).

more specifically, is portrayed as showing redeeming, heroic anti-villain qualities by backhanding the victim into a wall as hard as he can in present day.

me: hm. yeah fuck this

[overlordofthelollipopguild]

Broken Souls Mend Hearts: Chapter 98: The Captain's Swan -- a Captain Swan, OUAT fanfic

CS REUNION!!!!

Read on FFN or AO3.

Note: I figured out Killian's travel plans. Killian was traveling from somewhere in Maine with no money except his gold, so I'm thinking he walked/hitchhiked to the nearest city, found a cash for gold/pawn shop, and got money for a bus ticket. So he walked/hitchhiked to Portland, Maine (let's say that's two hours south of Storybrooke by car, so with hitchhiking that could take anywhere from 5 to 7 hours), so he gets to Portland by 1 p.m., gets money, gets a bus to New York City because he’s got his compass (check out Chapter 20: Little Talks). Bus ride is 7hrs and 49mins. He gets on the bus at 4 p.m. (after at least getting a little bit of food), arrives in New York at nearly 12 a.m. so he checks into a motel and sleeps until 8 a.m. Voila!

Also, keep in mind that as far as Killian knows, Zelena is evil and the villain, so that will be mentioned a few times in this chapter. They’ll find out the truth in Storybrooke.

Also, this chapter is rated M, possibly explicit, for depictions of sex. Fair warning. Like they’ve been separated 8 months, so I can’t blame them for wanting to get reacquainted.

Likely this will be the only smut I write for this fic. Sorry Krystal!

If you do not like smut and want to skip, you can start from when Killian says “So we’re alone?” And control+F to  “Her head rested on his shoulder as she threw her arm over his chest”.

Then skip again from “As she kissed him, her fingers danced down his skin to the towel around his waist, loosening it so that it fell to the floor.” And control+F to “When her soul returned to her body, Emma’s stomach growled.”

There isn’t just smut in the chapter, there’s also some emotional moments and Walsh does show up at one point to tie up that loose end.

Chapter 98: The Captain’s Swan

Emma never woke up early on Saturdays, especially Saturdays when Henry was staying over at a friends, but her anticipation from yesterday hadn't worn off. All day yesterday, she looked over her shoulder constantly wondering if someone, if he, would pop out at her. She couldn't focus on work and even got home before remembering she needed groceries. Instead, she ordered Chinese take-out, glad that Henry was staying over at Avery's house for the weekend.

Last night, she tried to focus on whatever she could find on television, and when that didn't work she cleaned. She actually deep cleaned until she was bone tired. Sleep only came due to physical exhaustion. When she woke up an hour ago, the feeling that something big was happening remained with her. Emma couldn’t even enjoy her coffee due to the emotional jitters she experienced. 

Needless to say, Emma wasn’t in a good mood this morning. 

Her eyes watched the time on her phone like she was expecting someone, which she wasn’t no matter what her heart told her. No one was coming. Certainly not a pirate straight out of her dreams. 

There was a knock on her door. 

Her heart skipped a beat, even as her head wondered who it was, hoping it wasn’t Walsh. Her feet carried to the door before her mind caught up, her hand turned the lock with an audible click, why wasn’t she looking through the peephole? It didn’t matter. The door was already cracking open. Her heart went to her throat.

Blue eyes and a wide, infectious smile greeted her. “Swan, at last.” He breathed her name like a prayer. 

It was him. Her dream pirate. No fucking way. Emma couldn’t breathe as her eyes drank in the sight of him. “Killian.”

His expression grew surprised, before Emma unthinkingly, instinctively, reached up, gripping him by the collar of his jacket and pulling him to her lips. The moment their lips met, a breeze of magic rushed between them and everything flashed in her mind. 

They met at night outside of Regina’s house. She was bringing Henry home. 

“Killian Jones. Deputy of Storybrooke. Mind if I ask what you are doing with the Mayor’s son, Miss Swan?”

She remembered his protectiveness over Henry. How much of a father he was long before Henry called him “Dad.” 

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying that Henry needs to believe that someone believes in him. Just because the curse isn't real to us, it doesn't mean that it isn't real to him. He needs you to believe him, Emma. Go prove him right.”

His smirks any time she got one over on Regina. His affirmations of support no matter the hurt it caused him, so long as she felt better and was comforted. 

Coffee and notes. He made it a habit, a routine for them. One she looked forward to every morning. 

He could read her so well. Knew all of her thoughts and emotions just by a look. 

"You're something of an open book.”

"Am I?" 

"More than you know.”

Killian worked hard to open her heart up to him, to love. 

"I know that you aren't one to let go and take a leap of faith. Your walls are a tower where you hide away, but you're not waiting for your prince to come rescue you. You're protecting yourself because you believe that anyone who comes near your tower is an ogre out to do you harm. But know this, love, I'm not an ogre. I want nothing more than your happiness and I know that it's too much for me to ask you to allow me to climb that tower, or you to let yourself out of it. So I won't. I'm ready and willing to wait for you, because you are more than worth any wait. Even if I have to wait twenty or fifty years or even an eternity for you, my Swan, I will."

Her first and only Christmas with him and Henry. The happiest Christmas she’d ever experienced. Their first kiss in the hospital after his accident. Their first date on the beach getting to know each other. Their first time together in the lighthouse.

Giving him True Love’s Kiss and breaking the Curse over the town. 

"What do I have to do?”

"Only True Love's Kiss can break this curse. You have to believe in his love for you, and your love for him.”

"I don't know if I can.”

"Stop thinking, and just feel. Listen to your heart.”

"I love you, Killian."

Learning that the man she loved was Captain Hook, a character straight out of a children’s story she grew up with, but nothing like she ever imagined. 

"Who are you?”

"Killian Jones. But most people have taken to calling me my more colorful moniker…Hook."

“Hook? As in Captain Hook?”

"I'd say at your service, milady, but pirates tend to not have good relations with royals.”

Ending up in the Enchanted Forest and having to find a way home. Climbing the beanstalk together and re-committing to each other. Telling him about Neal and the pain he caused, opening herself up to him completely, giving him her Swan pendant. 

"I wore it, to remind myself never to trust anyone again. I held onto it, as a reminder of what Neal did to me, but I don't want to live in the past anymore. What you told Anton, on the beanstalk, about how you realized you didn't have to be alone anymore...it made me realize that I don't have to hold onto the past anymore. Yeah, I'll never forget what Neal did, and I doubt that I'll ever forgive him for it, but I've let his actions, the memory of him, hold me back from love and trust for ten years. I don't want to be held back anymore. I want you to have it. You don't have to wear it, or even keep it really, because, well Neal gave it to me, and you probably hate that, but...I want you to have it anyway, because I want it to remind you that you are the reason that I'm letting go of Neal. That you're the first person who I've been able to open up to in a long time. I want it to remind you that...that I trust you.”

"I'd be honored to wear it. I love you, Emma."

Henry helped her find her happy ending. Sweet, amazing, smart Henry, her wonderful son, ever the optimist whenever she was in doubt. The only who truly believed Killian would make it home from the Enchanted Forest when no one else did.

“Grandpa always says that we have to have hope. That we have to have faith that everything will work out. I know that dad may be hurt, and it may be really, really bad, but I believe that he'll make it. He'll pull through, and then he'll find his way back home.”

 "Optimism must've skipped a generation.”

"Maybe, but you can't give up. Grandma once told us in class, when we were making birdhouses, that if someone loves you they will always find you. And Dad loves you, doesn't he?”

“Yes. And I love him.”

"Then he'll find you.”

"Thank you, Henry. Come here, kid. I love you.”

"I love you, too.”

Tears came to her, remembering that that was the first time she ever told Henry she loved him.

Finding out she was pregnant again. Terrified she’d have to go through it alone, because Killian hadn’t made it home yet. Telling Killian the news.

Her and Killian proposing to each other. He kept his mother’s ring for centuries and deemed her to be worthy enough to possess it. It was the ring she still wore on her finger to ward off Walsh. 

"Marry me?”

"Swan, what are you doing? You're depriving me of my romantic proposal.”

"You were going to propose?”

“Someday.”

“Well, I guess I saved you some trouble then?”

"You're proposing now?”

"I'll say yes, on one condition."

“What?"

"Well, I proposed first. So, don't you think you should say yes first?”

"If the lady insists. Yes, I will marry you, Emma Swan.”

"Yes, I'll marry you, Killian Jones.”

They were so happy for so long, and everything was going perfectly. Neverland and all the baggage that nasty adventure came with rushed back. 

Liam’s birth on the Jolly Roger. 

“I never got to hold Henry like this. Things will be different this time. I’m not missing another day in Henry’s life, and I’m not going to miss a day of Liam’s.”

“Nor will I.” 

“We love you, Liam Jones. You have no idea how happy we are that you’re here.”

Liam. Her baby. She left him, choosing Henry because Henry would be alone. 

“How do we know what’s best?”

“We…we’ll have to…we have to give them both their best chance.”

“Henry can’t be alone. But Liam needs me too.”

“I know. But, I…I think you and I both know what we need to do.” 

“This isn’t fair. Why couldn’t Regina’s price be her magic? Or her title, or something that didn’t involve us making the hardest decision of our lives?”

“I don’t know. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“I know that you won’t remember me, but I want you to know that I love you so much. In my heart, I will remember you everyday. I promise. So, you be good for your dad. He’s going to have a hard time, and he loves you so much, but he’s not going to be in a good place. He will be so overprotective of you, so let him, even though it’ll probably drive you crazy. But he loves you, and he will put so much energy into giving you everything you deserve. You will be so so so loved, and I am so sorry that I’m going to miss all of it. I’m so sorry that I won’t be there. I wish more than anything that your brother and I could go with all of you. That we could be there for you. But life isn’t fair, and it sucks. But you are so lucky to have your dad, and your grandparents, and so many people who will be there for you. I hope that you miss me, but I really hope that you don’t either.”

Her parents. David and Mary Margaret. Prince Charming and Snow White. 

"Well, he thinks that you're Snow White, right? He thinks David is Prince Charming. You guys are True Love, so that makes you my parents.”

“Huh? Well, I have a kid. You'd think that I'd remember something like that.”

“Yeah. You'd think.”

"You do kind of have my chin. And my eyes. Hell, I think you have David's nose too.”

“Please, you just want Emma around so you can go into mother hen mode and molly coddle her during the pregnancy.”

"That's not true."

"I always knew you'd be a daddy's girl."

They hadn’t abandoned her. They loved her so much, but she was the Savior. She needed to break the Curse. 

"We're together, finally, and I can't help but think you're not happy about it.”

"Oh, I am. But see, here's the thing. No matter what the circumstances, for twenty-eight years I only knew one thing. That my parents sent me away.”

"We did that to give you your best chance.”

"You did it for everyone, because that's who you are. Leaders, heroes, princes, and princesses, and that's great, a-and amazing, and wonderful. But it doesn't change the fact that, for my entire life, I've been alone.”

"But, if we hadn't sent you away, you would've been cursed, too.”

"But we would've been together. Which curse is worse?"

“But Henry and Killian changed that?”

"Coming to Storybrooke changed that. Henry, Killian, you, and David. All of it. I have a family now. It's all I ever wanted. I'm...I'm really happy I finally found you guys.”

"We are so so happy that you found us too.”

Henry. God, she did give Henry away but he found her.

“I gave him up because I couldn't be a mother. At the time, Neal had proved to me that I couldn't be loved. That I didn't deserve it. I knew that if I kept Henry, he would've loved me unconditionally, but I didn't think that I deserved his love. The doctor tried to get me to change my mind, he even told me the baby was a boy after I had told him that I didn't want to know what it was. But...But I couldn't...I told the doctor that I couldn't be a mother. I wasn't fit to be a mother. I didn't even look at Henry, because I knew that if I had seen him, I would've begged them to let me keep him. The first time I saw Henry was when he found me.”

Graham. His shoelace which she still kept in her jewelry box. She stopped wearing it because she didn’t remember why she even had it, but Emma knew it wasn’t something that could be discarded. Oh god, he was her first true friend to die, the first funeral she went to…she and Killian named their son for him. 

August. He came with her, he left her, the wardrobe could’ve taken two, but it didn’t and she grew up alone. He was family now, a brother to her and Killian, uncle to their sons. 

Facing Neal and all the past pain he caused. 

Being the Savior. Bringing back the happy endings. Finding and building her family. 

Her friends. Her family. 

Separating again because of another fucking Curse. 

“I know this isn’t fair, but I need you to promise me something else.”

“Anything.”

“It’s impossible.”

“I don’t care.”

“Promise me that you’ll find us. Promise me that you will find a way back to me and Henry. Find us.”

“As you wish.” 

It was all back. Emma Swan knew exactly who she was now and every part of her was back in it’s rightful place. Slowly, she pulled away, her hands gripping his coat collar, unwilling to let him go again. “You found us.”

“Aye,” Killian rested his forehead against hers. “That was True Love’s Kiss. It doesn’t work with memory loss, so I take it that you remembered me?” His sweet, dimpled smile sent her heart soaring. 

“Not entirely.” Emma said, just breathing him in. God, he was back, he found her, he kept his promise. “Bits and pieces. I don’t think Regina’s spell was foolproof.” She pulled him fully into the apartment, not wanting any nosy neighbors to question why some guy in strange clothes was kissing her. 

The apartment door shut with a click and they stood in the entryway, holding each other, drinking  in the sight of each other. “How did you find us?” Emma asked, hand going around his neck to play with the curling ends of his hair. He needed a haircut and a beard trim, but damn if he didn’t look fine. His Enchanted Forest clothes certainly screamed menacing pirate, and Emma loved the look. She didn’t know why he never offered to dress up for her before, but Emma was going to make him from now on. 

Something pained flickered in Killian’s eyes, before a strained smile appeared. “The compass you gave me on my birthday. When I came through the portal, I meant to use it to navigate to the nearest city. It wasn’t pointing north. I followed it, ended up in Portland, Maine. Then I just took a bus in the direction it pointed and ended up here.” His hand reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a blue vial. “This is a memory potion, but looks like you won’t need it.” He set it on the kitchen counter.

“Henry might.” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand and hook in hers. She missed him so much. “He doesn’t remember like I do, but he’s been having dreams of Storybrooke.” 

That only made Killian more curious. He supposed when they returned, Regina might have some answers. 

Emma asked the one question that nagged most at her. “Where’s Liam?” Her baby was alive. The baby she thought lost forever was alive and happy and healthy as she knew he would be with Killian. Her entire being ached to see him and hold him again.

“He’s safe.” Killian reassured, cupping her face. “He’s with my brother.” 

“You’re trusting August with an eight month old?” Emma teased.

That odd smile was back. There was a story there. “Where’s Henry?”

“At a friend’s house.” Emma said, leaning in. “I’m picking him up in the morning.” 

A smirk formed on his handsome face. “So we’re alone?”

Emma grinned into his lips. “Yes.” Pressing her lips to his could never convey just how much she truly missed him and how happy she was to see him, but she sure as hell was going to try.

Killian pulled her close, deepening the kiss. It had been too, too long since they’d been together. Every fiber of his being missed her; his heart ached without her; his soul cried out for her. Overjoyed at their reunion, Killian could only express it all in this kiss where relief, love, passion, and joy united together, saying everything that words could not. 

Ignoring their burning lungs, the couple leaned further into each other. 

His coat fell from his shoulders, so Emma gripped him desperately by neck, attempting to meld them into one being. 

“Too many clothes.” She mumbled, hardly taking her lips from his. Her hands slid down his waistcoat, unbuttoning the red brocade swiftly. 

Killian grinned into her kiss as the vest met the same fate as the coat. “I missed you.” He pushed into her, her back hitting the island behind them. “Gods, Emma I thought about you every moment of every day.” His fingers nimbly undid the buttons of her pajama shirt. 

Emma eagerly let her shirt fall from her, pressing her bare chest to him. 

He groaned into her. 

Her hands pulled down his suspenders. Why the fuck was he even wearing suspenders? Too many layers. She practically clawed at his shirt to get it off. 

They broke their kiss briefly to discard his shirt. 

Emma gripped his forearms as she lead him further into the apartment. “Bedroom, now.”

He followed her command letting her haul him to her bedroom. He kicked the door closed behind him before hauling her in for another kiss. Killian spun her around, pressing her into the bedroom door, lifting her legs around his waist. 

Emma moaned as his hardening cock rubbed against her through their remaining layers off clothes. “Fuck.” Her hips ground into him, creating friction they desperately needed. “Killian, I missed you so much.” 

His lips danced down her collar bone, pausing to suck at a sensitive spot along her pulse. He breathed in the scent of her, content to kiss her here for eternity, sucking hard enough to leave bruising. 

Her hips undulated against him as her need grew. She hadn’t orgasmed properly since before Neverland, having frustratingly little success in her solo efforts for the past eight months. Emma pushed him away a bit, letting her legs fall, quickly shimmying out of her pants and underwear. 

Killian swallowed seeing her naked form for the first time in so long. Gods, she was radiant. He pulled her back to him, fingers dancing along her stretch mark scars. “I haven’t had a lot of privacy these past months, so I’m not sure how long I’ll last.”

“Me either.” Emma admitted. Her hands unbuttoned his pants and pushed them downwards.

Killian stumbled back as he kicked off boots and pants, falling ass first onto her bed.

She laughed at the sight he made before helping pull everything off. Then he was naked before her except for his hook and brace. Emma climbed onto his lap, bringing their bodies together, her wet folds sliding over his erection. A happy sigh escaped her. “Foreplay later?”

“Count on it, love.” He smirked shamelessly. “Condoms?”

“IUD.” Not that she planned on having sex with anyone, but after believing she miscarried, Emma didn’t want to risk another pregnancy and had one implanted as soon as she could. Though now that she had her memories and the love of her life back, she’d certainly reconsider it if they wanted another baby. Pushing those thoughts away for the time being, Emma reached between them, her hand grasping his cock, aligning them together. She sunk down fully on him, both of them moaning loudly as their bodies joined together for the first time in too many months. 

Emma whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate to his size after so long. 

Their foreheads pressed together as they took time to revel in their union. 

Emma cupped his face. “I love you so much, Killian.” 

He brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. His blue eyes seared into her very soul. “I love you, Emma.” His voice thickened with desire. “Ride me, love.”

Her body shivered pleasurable at the huskiness of his voice. Gripping his shoulders, Emma set a slow, torturous pace as they relearned each other. She rose and fell in time with their harsh pants. How could she ever forget how wonderful it felt to be filled by him? 

Killian secured his right arm around her waist to support her as his hook traveled down her body until it fell between them, the cold metal rubbing against her hot, swollen clit. 

A guttural moaned left her lips as her head fell back. God that hook just fucking did things to her. “Fuck, Killian.”

“Yes, that is what we’re doing.” He teased, leaning down to kiss along her neck again.

She choked on a laugh, lightly smacking him on the shoulder. “Ass.”

“Later if you have the right toys,” He mumbled against her skin, biting along her collar.

She quietly lamented that she in fact didn’t have the right toys for that at the moment, but they’d fix that when they returned home. 

His lips trailed down to her breasts, his beard roughly scraping against her pale, creamy skin.

Emma cried out as his mouth mercilessly sucked in a pert, tight nipple. She bucked against him, her pace increasing as she chased the building tightening in her gut. 

Sensing she was close, knowing her body as well as his own, Killian withdrew from her before leaning back and rolling them over. 

She keened as Killian increased their pace, rocking the bed with the force of it. Their whimpers and moans filled the air as they lost themselves in the sensation of chasing their release. Emma choked on his name as white exploded behind her eyes, her orgasm washing harshly over her. 

Killian moaned out her name as her tight, pulsing cunt squeezed him dry as he came inside of her. As his senses came back to him, lightheaded from such a forceful orgasm, Killian looked down at his sweaty, glowing bride-to-be. 

Emma smiled widely, reaching up to run a hand through his damp, dark hair. “I hope you’ve got another round in you, sailor.”

Killian chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “My love when have I ever left it to just one?” Slowly, Killian pulled out of her, dragging his lips against her dewy skin as he made his way southward. Now that their initial desperation for each other was satiated, he was going to take time lavishing attention on her body until she screamed his name. 

Her body quivered in anticipation as Killian left a trail of kisses down her stomach. As his mouth sucked on her throbbing clit and a scream of unadulterated pleasure leaving her, Emma felt as though her soul left her body, her body overwhelmed by the sensation. 

Her noises only spurred Killian on as his tongue slipped between her folds, eagerly tasting the remnants of their coupling. Knowing what his hook did to her, he brought the sharp instrument back into play, very lightly brushing the tip against her clit. 

“Fuck!” A hoarse moan ripped from her as she came quickly on the heels of her last climax. 

Killian took time relishing the taste of her as her body relaxed into the mattress. Blood rushed back down to his cock, his delight at bringing her pleasure shooting through him. Gods how he loved the noises she made, her completely unguarded, primal expression as she came. 

Feeling boneless, unable to properly move or speak, Emma lightly whined to get Killian’s attention. 

He chuckled against her before leisurely, agonizingly taking his time kissing his way up her body. He paused at her breasts, teeth raking along her skin before sinking in to mark. 

“Damn,” Emma gasped. “I forgot you’re all bark and bite.” Her teasing tone drew a small laugh from him as he continued kiss her chest. Wrapping her legs around him, Emma’s hands combed through his now wet hair, tugging at the strands, speaking with her actions.

Knowing his Swan was growing impatient, Killian moved upwards, kissing her soundly as his erection nestled between her legs, heat radiating from her. “You’re welcome to bite back any time.” 

Emma grinned, locking her legs around him. “You’re incorrigible.” 

“That’s not news to you.” He chuckled, kissing her again. A content sigh left him. “It’s been too long, my love.” 

“I know.” Emma’s hands clasped behind his neck. “If there’s ever another Curse, I’m going nuclear with my magic. Our family isn’t being separated ever again.” 

The seriousness of her tone and the tears in her eyes was enough to undo him. Killian swallowed back his own pain, focusing on them, in the here and now. “Never again.” He entered her deliberately tender after putting her body through the ringer. Keeping his pace gentle, he reached out, taking her hand in his and lacing their fingers together before pinning their joined hands above her head.

Their eyes locked reflecting everything they felt for the past eight months. Pain, suffering, loss, desire, joy, love all rolled into one look. 

“Killian.” Emma choked on tears as they slipped from the corners of her eyes. 

“I know.” His own voice hoarse. So much happened. There was still so much to talk about. Unable to stand it, Killian kissed her ardently, willing away everything these past months inflicted on them. “I love you.” 

Her voice tight with emotions, Emma whispered back words of love and adoration as his slow, reverent movements sparked the sedate beginnings of another climax. Together they moved as one, heavy breathing in sync, hearts beating in harmony. 

They came undone together, stars behind their eyes, as they lost themselves in each other’s embrace. 

How long they stayed that way, wrapped up together, drained from their vigorous lovemaking, they couldn’t say. After a time, when their breathing normalized, Killian rolled off of her, laying next to her on top of the sheets. 

Emma snuggled into his side despite the fact that they were both hot and covered in a layer of sweat. Her head rested on his shoulder as she threw her arm over his chest. 

Killian’s own arm came around her, holding her close. They remained silent for awhile, neither wanting to break their bubble, both knowing there was a lot to say, to catch up on. He sighed, knowing that they couldn’t keep putting it off. “How about a shower before we talk?” 

“That sounds like a good idea.” Emma whispered. “I can order us some lunch too.”

In no hurry, they took their time getting up and heading to the bathroom, kissing and touching along the way, neither willing to let the other go for very long, both fearing that this was all a dream and they’d wake up alone again. 

After a nice long shower and heavy petting, they dressed, Killian only in his pants and Emma in his shirt and her underwear, and sat in her living room. 

Emma ordered pizza, not wanting to leave to pick something up. She settled herself in Killian’s arms and asked about the Enchanted Forest. 

“We appeared near Aurora’s castle.” He started. “They took us in for the first night, but we were eager to get to Regina’s castle. It was still intact and had more room. Liam’s worst night was that first one, but it got better.” He spoke of their journey to Regina’s castle, of how he researched magic and exhausted all of Regina’s resources, how he dreamed of her. “Emma, I…” He looked around the apartment, eyes flicking everywhere before speaking. “I saw this apartment in my dreams of you. I dreamed of you doing things here, living your life, and I knew that you felt something was missing. That’s when I decided I needed to leave the castle and search elsewhere. You and Henry weren’t happy.” 

“Wait, you dreamed of me too?” Emma asked. Though it was odd that he was dreaming of her life here. She dreamed of her memories of course, but there were other things too. Liam crying, Killian on his ship, Killian with Liam. 

“Aye.” His brow furrowed. “What were your dreams of, love?” 

“Mostly Storybrooke.” Emma said. “But there were some of you and Liam in the Enchanted Forest.”

Killian contemplated her words. So they both dreamt about each other’s lives while they were separated…was that because they were True Love? 

Emma’s own thoughts wondered along the same lines. “I guess we’ll have to ask Regina and my parents when we get back to Storybrooke. They’d know if our dreams were because we’re True Love.” 

“Perhaps.” Something nagged at Killian though he ignored it for now. He continued telling her about his time at Regina’s castle, glossing over his fight with Snow a bit, explaining how he, Will, Alice, Tink, and Blackbeard left on their journey, taking Liam with them. “As we were traveling, well, I found out a truth about Blackbeard.” 

“Great.” Emma huffed. She didn’t like the bastard at all since it was his fault they ever ended up in Neverland and Pan fucking cursed them all. “Please, tell me more about that asshole.” 

Killian winced. That's right, Emma and Blackbeard weren’t exactly friends before the Curse so she wouldn't have any warm, fuzzy feelings towards his brother. Well, it was best to rip the bandaid off. “He’s my brother.” 

Emma blinked, taking a moment to process his words. “I’m going to need a very detailed explanation.” 

“Uh, well, he’s Liam.” Killian started. “My brother Liam, who I thought died, but apparently Pan resurrected him and owned his soul. Pan also didn’t let us know about each other being alive and he found out when he kidnapped you and Henry. I found out around Christmas. He didn’t want to tell me the truth because of our Liam and some stupid idea about tainting my memory of him, but yeah. Blackbeard is my brother and Will’s father.” 

“Wow.” Stunned didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling. There was anger there too, though now it made sense how quickly Blackbeard flipped on Pan. He knew they were family and that Henry and Liam were his nephews. Still, she was definitely punching Blackbeard in the face when she saw him just on principle. “Wait, is he still called Blackbeard or do we have two Liams now?” 

“Blackbeard.” Killian said. “He said he’s too used to it now and it keeps it from being confusing.” 

There was a knock at the door, startling both of them. Emma hurriedly went to the door, seeing the pizza guy though the peephole. “Pizza.” Emma said. She quickly grabbed her wallet and paid, practically throwing the money at the guy as she grabbed the pizza. “Keep the change.” 

After shutting the door, Emma brought the pizza over, setting it on the coffee table. She opened the box and asked. “Any other bombs to drop?” 

“A few, yes.” Killian sighed. “Emma, we spent months traveling and came up empty handed. I wanted to return to the Enchanted Forest and try to find new leads, but then Regina came and got us. The only way to get back here was to cast the Dark Curse.” 

“No.” Emma shook her head. “There had to be another way.” Surely someone didn’t die just to get her and Henry home?

Killian swallowed. “Regina and Rumplestiltskin both agreed that it was the only way.” 

“Rumplestiltskin is alive?” Emma asked, floored. “How?” Jesus, what the fuck all happened in the Enchanted Forest? God, she couldn’t leave her family alone for five minutes. New brothers, curses, resurrections, what else could possibly happened? 

“Regina didn’t elaborate.” Killian said. “Emma, the Wicked Witch is controlling him and he seems to think you’re the only one who can stop her.” 

Emma leaned back against the couch, dread creeping in. “You mean the Savior is the only one who can stop her?” Is that all she was to people? 

Killian put his arm around her, hugging her to him. “You know that everyone went along with the Curse for you and Henry. Not because they need the Savior, right? We all wanted you both home.” 

“I know.” Emma sighed. “I just wish the Savior thing died with breaking the Curse.”

“I know, love.” Killian kissed her forehead. 

“So the Wicked Witch has the Dark One?” Emma grimaced. “Did this new Curse bring magic back with it?”

“Regina said that because Rumplestiltskin brought it back after the first Curse, that Storybrooke would always carry magic with it.” Killian still wasn’t entirely sure how that worked. Principles of magic were beyond his expertise. “It’s fully a magical town now.” 

Emma only nodded against him. It was a vain hope that magic hadn’t been brought back and they could all live normal lives. Bracing herself, she finally asked the question she dreaded the answer to, “Who…who volunteered?”

He moved away from her, avoiding looking at her. He wanted to be there when it happened, but Regina needed to stay with the Curse and hadn’t wanted to risk Killian getting caught up in grief and the Curse. His throat tightened. “Pop.” 

He spoke the word so quietly, Emma wasn’t sure she heard correctly at first. “Marco volunteered?” 

Killian could only nod in response, his eyes glossing over with unshed tears.

“Oh Killian.” Emma reached for him, pulling hi into a tight hug. “I’m so sorry.” Her own eyes watered. Despite his part in her growing up alone and in foster care, Emma grew to love Marco, and not just as he was Killian’s father figure, but also because he was a kind soul, who loved Killian and their boys fiercely, and who helped people as much as he could when he could. 

It was her hug that finally broke him and grief slammed into him, his body shaking as he began to sob, finally allowing himself to mourn his father. Burying his face into her shoulder, Killian let it all out. 

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered against his neck, holding him as they both cried, feeling Marco’s loss. Emma wished she could take away Killian’s pain. Marco was gone; he chose to die so that she and Henry could come home. He died for their family. Emma squeezed her eyes shut as guilt assaulted her. Why couldn’t there have been another way? Why was there always a stupid freaking Curse? 

It could’ve been minutes, hours maybe, but it felt like forever as Killian cried in her arms. 

Emma ran a comforting hand through his hair as he slowly calmed. 

His breathing evened out. “The pizza’s cold.” He mumbled. 

“I have a microwave.” Emma whispered. 

He pulled back, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t be with him when it happened. I couldn’t risk being caught up in the Curse.” 

Emma brushed away the tear tacks on his cheeks. “He knew. He loved you, Killian.” 

“At least, I got to say goodbye.” Killian said. “I got to see him a final time.” He collapsed against the couch.

Neither of them were keen on eating anymore, so Emma put the pizza in the fridge then returned to the couch to cuddle with Killian, wishing there was more she could do to comfort him.

Killian rested his cheek against her hair, closing his eyes as the emotions of the day washed over him. 

When his breathing evened out, Emma carefully extricated herself from his arms. She maneuvered him so he was lying on the couch. She pulled the throw blanket over him and sat next to him, gently caressing his cheek. Her heart ached for him. He’d lost so much in his life. Would they ever get a break? 

She stood up and wanting to let him sleep, Emma decided to get dressed. Killian needed clothes for the trip home, and possibly extra outfits. Who knows if the Curse brought back all of their belongings? God, would their house still be there? Marco had nearly finished the renovations when they left for Neverland. Emma’s throat tightened. She hoped the house survived, so they’d have their home. Marco renovated it for them as a gift for their family and making it the place they raised their children seemed the best way to honor his memory. 

Once dressed, Emma made sure to leave Killian a note on the coffee table in case he woke up before she got back. She was glad that he fell asleep, if only so she could take time to process everything he told her. There was a Target not too far from her apartment, so she decided to grab what she could find there. Killian lost some weight from what she could tell. Had he taken care of himself? Didn’t anyone make sure he was eating? Knowing him as she did, he probably prioritized Liam and his search for a portal over everything else, but especially more than himself. 

She entered the store, not entirely focused on her mission as she thought over what all she learned from Killian. His brother was alive. Her kids already had a bunch of aunts and uncles, and now there was one more. She still wasn’t sure how she felt about a man she greatly disliked being the man Killian worshipped for his whole life. 

Grabbing Killian a few pairs of dark blue jeans, Emma’s mind turned over to the fact that the Dark One was alive. All magic came with a price, so how steep was the price for resurrection? Who the hell paid it? 

As for the Wicked Witch, Emma didn’t even know what to think about that. She was a product of True Love, which meant the most powerful magic of all lived inside of her, manifesting in her magic. So how powerful and bad was the Wicked Witch if Regina couldn’t fight her? Why did Emma have to be the one? What was the story with the Wicked Witch anyway? Killian hadn’t told her more before telling her about Marco. She’d need to get as much information as possible before returning to Storybrooke. 

She grabbed Killian some crew neck t-shirts, a few long-sleeved button downs, a pack of socks, and a belt before going to look for shoes. 

Why did she have to be the Savior? Her thoughts grew bitter. Why didn’t her job as the Savior end with the Curse breaking? Why was she responsible for villains? There were other heroes out there.

There was a nice pair of dockers that Killian would like. Grabbing the boots, she shook herself mentally. 

God, she sounded so fucking selfish. People needed her help; they were in danger. Emma wondered if she’d ever accept that she was indeed the Savior and likely always would be. She made her way to check out, lost in her own world, freezing as she found herself in the baby aisle. 

Sorrow filled her being at the thought of her baby, her little Liam. She missed out on the first eight months of his life after she swore she’d never miss out on a thing. How big was he? Was he crawling yet? Did he still use magic? Had his powers grown? What was he like? 

Keeping her tears at bay, Emma hurried to check out before a full on breakdown happened. When she arrived at the bug, throwing the bag of clothes into the passenger seat, Emma covered her mouth with her hands as sobs escaped her. 

How could she be the Savior? People were dying for her. She couldn’t stop a Curse from taking her family away from her. She couldn’t protect her sons. If she couldn’t do any of that, if she couldn’t keep everyone together and safe, how was she ever going to defeat the Wicked Witch? She wasn’t a Savior; she was a failure. She broke a Curse, but Regina defeated Cora and saved Henry, Neverland beat Greg and Tamara, Rumplestiltskin defeated Pan. What good was she? Storybrooke didn’t need her. They needed someone who could actually defeat a villain. Someone who wouldn’t fail them. 

Angrily wiping away her tears, Emma started up her car. 

She wasn’t a Savior. Storybrooke was screwed. 

Returning to her apartment building, Emma parked and grabbed her purchases. Hopefully Killian was still asleep so she didn’t have to explain her tears to him. Then she stepped out of the elevator, she froze seeing Walsh standing in front of her apartment talking to Killian, who stood shirtless in the doorway looking irritated. 

Emma glared at Walsh’s profile as she approached.

Killian saw her first, clocking her annoyance and wariness. His brow furrowed seeing that she’d been crying. “Hello, love.” He smiled gently, giving her a kiss on the cheek as he reached out to take the Target bag from her, before placing it inside the apartment on the floor next to the door. 

“Hey.” Emma relaxed, grinning back. She turned to Walsh. “Can I help you?” Okay, so she didn’t really hide the annoyance in her tone. 

“I was just…” Walsh started, but Killian cut him off.

“Walsh here was concerned for your wellbeing.” Killian said, smirking though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “He heard our rather enthusiastic reunion and thought you might be in need of saving.”

Emma rolled her eyes. The only one in need of saving was Walsh from the punch she wanted to throw. “Clearly I don’t. Did Walsh also mention he’s been stalking me and Henry?”

The dangerous glint in Killian’s eyes turned murderous. “No, he left that part out. He was much rather keen to introduce himself as your boyfriend.” Killian, of course, hadn’t believed him, and he definitely wanted to sink his hook into the man’s throat for stalking his wife-to-be and son. 

“In his dreams.” Emma growled. “Walsh is well aware of the fact that your my fiancé and that your were deployed, but he thought I conveniently made you up.” She moved to Killian’s side in the doorway, arm going around his waist. “As you can see, Killian’s a real person. Now, he’s been away for eight months and I really want to keep showing him how much I missed him.” Emma turned to head into the apartment, not seeing Walsh’s eyes flash red before he transformed into a flying monkey. 

Killian reacted quickly, pulling Emma out of the way of the monkey’s trajectory. 

Pressed up against the wall of her entryway with Killian’s body against hers, it took Emma a second to process the fact that her weird, creepy, psycho neighbor just turned into a flying fucking monkey. “What the fuck?” 

Killian kicked the door closed and maneuvered Emma behind him. “Well, looks like the Wicked Witch sends her regards.” 

The monkey perched on the kitchen counter glaring at the pair. It shrieked loud and angry before launching towards them, knocking the memory potion off of the counter, the blue vial hitting the tile floors, shattering everywhere. 

Emma and Killian ducked, scrambling away as the monkey slammed into the door. 

Killian pushed Emma ahead of him to keep his body between her and the monkey. 

The monkey shrieked as it knocked into Killian from behind, sending the pirate to the ground. It jumped on top of him and Killian quickly grabbed the monkey’s wrists with his hand and hook to keep it from clawing at him. 

“No!” Emma’s fear for Killian consumed her and without thinking about it, her magic reached out and blasted the monkey to ash. 

Killian closed his eyes as monkey dust covered him. He sat up brushing himself off. “I’m going to need another shower after that.” 

Emma stared at her hands. “I used magic.” 

“Aye.” Killian walked over to her and helped her stand up. “Are you all right, love?” 

“How did I use magic?” Emma asked. “There’s no magic here.” 

“Actually, there’s a little magic here.” Killian said. “You’re just the only one powerful enough to tap into it.” His hand gently grasped her chin, making her look at him. “Are you hurt, my love?” 

“No, I’m fine.” Emma said. “Are you okay?” 

“Not a scratch.” He smiled. “Thanks for saving me, Savior.” His lips landed on her before Emma could respond. A possessive need overcame him as he enthusiastically deepened the kiss.

Emma groaned into him pressing her body against his before remembering he was covered in Walsh. Pulling back, Emma grimaced. “Hold on there, Tiger. I’m not getting naked with you until your clean again.” Just the thought of anything of Walsh touching her grossed her out.

Killian chuckled. “As my lady commands.” He cupped her face gently. “Are you sure you’re all right? You were crying before you came home.”

Emma sighed, leaning into him. “I’m fine. We’ll talk about it after your shower.” She promised. “Now go. The sooner your clean the sooner we can have some fun.” 

When Killian left her alone, Emma took out the broom and began cleaning up the rest of Walsh and the shattered pieces of the memory potion. Without the potion, what were they going to do about Henry? He needed his memories too. She wasn’t going to lie to him; after everything that happened, with Henry already experiencing dreams, he deserved to know everything. More than that, Emma wanted Henry to know about Killian, about their bond, how much he loved his father. She wanted Henry to remember his brother and how excited he was to be a big brother. They could tell him everything tomorrow when she brought him home, of course, but it wasn’t the same as having his memories back. If they were going to face magic and witched, Henry needed his memories to prepare and to protect himself. Maybe Regina could make another potion and they wouldn’t have to worry about it for too long. 

She finished her cleaning and her stomach roared at her. They hadn’t eaten their pizza and it was nearing dinner time, so Emma pulled it out of the fridge and tossed it in the oven to warm it up. Her mind went back to Killian’s words earlier. 

Thanks for saving me, Savior.

He was sincere when he said it, but of course Killian always believed in her. When no one else was in her corner, Killian defended her and lifted her up constantly. Of course, he’d have faith that she could be the Savior. But defeating one flying monkey didn’t make her a Savior. It was luck that her magic came to her aid. What if it hadn’t? Would Killian be hurt or worse? She could’ve lost him. 

The pizza tasted like cardboard as her stomach churned with anxiety. How could she save everyone? 

Strong arms came around her, pulling her back into his chest. “You’re thinking loud enough to wake the dead.” 

Emma sighed, a small smile coming to her face. She turned in his arms, realizing he only wore a towel, her arms locking around his neck. “I’m just brooding.”

“I thought that was my trademark?” Killian teased.

“Ah, but see, you’re over three hundred years old, so brooding is in the public domain now.” Emma smirked. 

“Ha, ha.” Killian rolled his eyes good-naturedly, before turning serious. “What were you thinking about, Emma?”

Her hands drifted down his neck muscles, fingers caressing his skin. It was easier to stare at his chest and play with his chest hair than look at him as she admitted to her shortcomings. “I just…I’m not a Savior. Not really.” 

“What do you mean?” His hand and stump went to her hips, pulling her close. 

“I just broke a curse.” Emma shrugged. “Regina never payed for it. Then Cora comes along and almost kills our son, and Regina stops her. I couldn’t even stop a sociopathic teenager. Rumplestiltskin killed him. A Savior is supposed to be able to save people, and I didn’t do that. How can I save them from the Wicked Witch?”

“Oh, Emma.” Killian knew the burden of being Savior ate away at her and he hated how she doubted herself. “You did save people. You brought back their happy endings. You saved Henry in Neverland. You saved me from myself. Hell, love, you save me every day you allow me to be worthy of your love.” 

She couldn’t help a small smile from forming. He always was her biggest cheerleader. “You have so much faith in me, Killian, but I just don’t feel like a Savior.”

“Who says you have to?” He cupped her chin, making her look at him. “You never asked to be the Savior. It’s not like you trained your whole life to be this beacon of good. You are naturally an amazing, kindhearted person who wants to help people. Don’t let putting a title on it psych you out, and please never think you have to bear this burden alone.” 

Emma carded her fingers through his thick, wiry chest hair. “How do you do that?” She smiled. “You always know just what to say.”

“I only speak the truth.” Killian said. “Most of it just comes from my heart.” 

She leaned up to soundly kiss him. How did she get so lucky to have this wonderful man as her True Love? As she kissed him, her fingers danced down his skin to the towel around his waist, loosening it so that it fell to the floor. 

“Swan.” Killian grinned against her lips. “What are you doing?” 

“I told you we’d have fun after your shower.” Her voice was coy. She kissed along his neck, pushing him back towards the counter for support. 

Killian leaned against the counter as Emma kissed down his chest, sinking to her knees in front of him. His cock twitched as she looked up at him with hooded eyes and a coquettish smirk. 

Her hand curled around him, pumping along his length to help him along. 

He groaned, closing his eyes, desire shooting through him, his blood swimming southward. Opening his eyes, Killian watched intensely as she worked him up. 

“What would you like me to do, Captain?” Emma purred as she continued her ministrations.

He shivered pleasurably at his rank falling from her lips. Her full, pink, wet lips. “I want your mouth on me.” His voice was husky and deep as he gave the order. 

“Do you promise to fuck my mouth if I do?” She teased, a hunger for him gleaming in her eyes. “I’m so very hungry after all.”

Her words went straight to his already straining cock. “Yes. I won’t hold back.”

“Good.” Emma’s mouth quickly went to work taking him all in. 

His head pitched back as she deep throated him. “Fuck.” 

Emma pressed her tongue to the underside of his cock as she pulled back slowly. She suckled the tip, earning a throaty whine for her efforts, before she took him all in again. Emma hummed around him, causing his hips to buck into her. 

Remembering his promise, Killian moved his hips, setting a leisurely pace as she sucked him off. His fingers tangled in her hair, holding her head to him. 

Her thighs rubbed together as she grew wet with desire. Emma took him all the way in again, humming around him before hollowing out her cheeks, slowly dragging her teeth the length of him, breathing through her nose as she focused on her task. 

His grip on her hair tightened as Emma scraped her teeth against his sensitive, throbbing cock. “Emma.” He choked out her name. His gut tightened with need as he picked up the pace, fucking into her hot mouth. 

Emma glanced up to see her fiancé wreaked by her touch, pleased with herself, she swirled her tongue around him, digging her nails into his thighs.

He groaned as her nails marked his skin, a silent tell to increase his pace. 

As he let go, undulating into her at a rapid pace, Emma clutched at his thighs with one hand, securing her position, while her other hand moved to his balls, twisting them ever so slightly. 

A hoarse shout left him as he fucked unrelentingly into her mouth, his release coming upon him faster than he could warn her.  

Once she swallowed all he had to give, her mouth freed him with an obscene pop.

Killian dragged her up by her hair, kissing her fiercely as he backed her into the island. He pulled her shirt up, braking the kiss, tossing it wherever before diving back in for more. His hand impatiently unbuttoned her jeans and he shoved them and her panties down just as quickly before lifting her onto the counter. 

Her bra joined her shirt somewhere, but Emma was preoccupied with pulling Killian closer. “Was my Captain pleased with my services?” She giggled. 

“You’ll be the death of me.” He grumbled amused. His mouth moved along her neck. His hand tweak a nipple hard eliciting a moan from Emma’s lips. 

“More.” Emma wrapped her legs around him, her hot cunt pressing against his abdomen. 

“Now, now.” Killian tisked. “You had your fun, so now it’s my turn.” He pulled her nipple again.

Emma whimpered. 

Killian nipped at her ear. “Be a good girl and let me take care of you.” He kneaded her breast as his stump traveled down her body to her nub. 

Her head tilted back as Killian pressed on her little bundle of nerves. “Killian.” 

His stump moved lower between her slick folds before entering her. 

Emma groaned rapturously at the intrusion. Her toes curled and she keened as he thrusted sedately in and out of her. 

Killian ducked his head down, capturing one of her breasts in his mouth, gratified to see purpling areas on her skin from where he marked her earlier. 

Between his hand, mouth, and stump, Emma lost her self in the pleasurable sensations inflicted on her trembling body. Her climax uncoiled gradually, her body arching towards him, his name nothing more than a pant from her lips. 

When her soul returned to her body, Emma’s stomach growled. 

Killian laughed into her shoulder. “Me thinks we need to eat the damn pizza already.”

“Too tired for another go round, old man?” Emma breathlessly taunted. 

“After we eat, I’ll show you why the old man jokes fall flat.” He huffed with a smile. 

Emma shakily slid off the counter, Killian’s arms around her to steady her footing. 

The couple cleaned themselves up in the bathroom, though neither bothered to dress since they were alone in the apartment, before returning to the kitchen and finally eating the pizza. Still starved, they also finished off Emma’s leftover Chinese from the night before. 

Emma stretched and yawned once they were done. It certainly had been a day with Killian’s arrival and the emotions and physical activities they both endured. God, had he only appeared at her door this morning? 

“Tired, Swan?” Killian asked, hugging her to him. 

“More than I thought I would be.” Emma stifled another yawn, resting her head against his chest as he held her. They really should move to the bedroom before she fell asleep against him. 

Killian chewed the inside of his lip. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” 

“It can’t wait until the morning?” Emma mumbled against him, her eyes closed. 

He hesitated, knowing that she needed to know about her younger sibling, who’d be born soon. It wasn’t news she’d take well and she’d need time to process it. However, she was tired and if he told her now, she’d likely not sleep very well. “Aye, it can. Come on, love, let’s get you to bed.”

They stumbled into her bedroom, Emma plopping face first into her pillow. 

Killian chuckled. “You’ll need to get under the sheets, princess.” 

Emma groaned, rolling back off of the bed to pull the sheets back. 

As Killian stepped next to the bed, he noticed a book on the nightstand. It was orange-brown with red and yellow flowers painted on it. “Is that the journal Belle gave you?” 

She froze, eyes darting to the book. Everything she felt and thought in the last eight months was written in those pages. Sitting on the bed, Emma nodded. “It is.” She whispered, not trusting her voice. So much pain fell into the words she wrote. Swallowing, Emma reached a hand out, indicating for Killian to hand it to her.

He did so, sitting next to her, concerned about her reaction. 

Her fingers brushed the cover. “I…I was struggling when we came to New York.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I know Regina tried to give us happy memories and I’m not sure what happened, but there were some things we remembered that weren’t happy.” She turned to Killian. “I remembered giving birth, but Liam was stillborn in my memories.”

“Emma.” Killian put his arm around her. He couldn’t imagine going through that. Leaving Emma and Henry was one of the most painful and difficult experiences in his life, but at least he knew they were alive. It seemed Emma couldn’t let go of Liam entirely and her mind must’ve excused Liam’s absence in the worst possible way. “I’m so sorry, love.”

“It’s okay now.” Emma gave a watery smile. “I know he’s alive and I’ll see him soon.” She looked back at the journal, making a decision. “There’s some things I don’t think I could relive, but I want you to know everything.” Emma passed the journal to him. “I want you to read it.”

“Are you sure?” Killian reverently took the journal from her. 

“You already know everything about my life.” Emma leaned her head on his shoulder. “This is just one more chapter.” 

Killian kissed the top of her head. “Okay. Thank you, love.” He gently set the journal aside for now, and laid down with Emma in his arms. “What are we telling Henry tomorrow?”

“The truth.” Emma said. “We don’t have the memory potion, but I’m not lying to him. He’s already having dreams of Storybrooke, so he’d figure it out as soon as we returned to town.” Her arms wound tightly around him. “We did promise him not to lie to him after the ordeal with Neal. Besides, he may not remember you, but I want him to know your his dad and that he has a brother.”

Killian held her firmly to him. “We did. Do you think he’ll like me?” 

Emma scoffed. “Killian, Henry’s always loved you. His head may not remember you, but his heart will. I promise.” She closed her eyes as she snuggled further into him. “He loves you, and when we get to Storybrooke, we’ll make sure he remembers everything.” 

“Too right.” Killian said softly. He brushed his hand through Emma’s hair, comforting himself as much as her. Before long, her breathing evened out, letting him know she fell asleep. Killian stared at the ceiling, his thoughts abuzz with what tomorrow would bring. Sleep struggled to find him, but he tried to remain still as to not wake Emma. Unfortunately, he grew restless after a couple of hours attempting to sleep. 

Carefully, he delicately rolled Emma off of him, ensuring she was comfortable and tucked in before he snuck out of bed, getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, taking her journal with him to the living room. 

He settled onto the couch and began reading. His heart broke reading over her painful memories, the confusion of her memories infecting her dreams, the loss of her baby, knowing she was missing something, grief overcoming her. 

Killian read for hours, lost in her words, knowing now where Henry received his writing talent, invested in knowing all his beautiful, incredible Swan went through to better understand her. His love for her continued to grow, seeing the strength in her words, the determination to rebuild her life, the depth of her love for Henry and how she wanted to protect him from grief and their strange dreams. 

He wasn’t quite finished when the sun came up and Emma padded into the room wearing his pirate shirt. 

“Have you been up all night?” She yawned, joining him on the couch. 

“I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to do some reading.” Killian made note of where he was in the journal before closing it and setting it onto the table. He turned to Emma, pulling her into his arms and kissing her soundly. 

The intensity of his kiss surprised her, but Emma eagerly returned his fervor. Gasping for air minutes later, Emma reluctantly broke their embrace. “What was that for?” She breathed. 

“I love you.” Killian said, pressing his forehead to hers. “You are the strongest, bravest, most incredible woman I’ve ever met.” He brushed her wild, untamed curls out of her eyes. “Even though the memories of your loss weren’t real, that didn’t make them less real to you. You survived so much and continued to suffer, and I’m so proud of your ability to keep going on with life without any bitterness tainting your heart.”

A lump formed in her throat as his love for her overwhelmed her. After such a shitty childhood and a lackluster young adulthood, fate bringing this man into her life more than made up for the hand she was dealt. “I don’t know about that.” She deflected, looking down at her hands. “I just pushed through everything for Henry.”

“You never give yourself enough credit, Emma.” Killian said, gently taking her hand in his. “You are so much more than you believe yourself to be. I wish you could see what I see.” 

“I don’t need to.” Emma smiled. “I have you. You’re my biggest cheerleader next to Henry. Between the pair of you, I sometimes get the idea.” She leaned back, wiping away a few stray tears. “Speaking of Henry, I better get dressed. I told him I’d pick him up for breakfast. There’s an artisanal donut shop we’ve been eyeing for a special occasion, so I’ll pick up a box.”

Killian let Emma retreat for now, but he’d never stop reminding her how amazing she was, especially in her darkest moments. He winced as he remembered he still needed to tell her about Snow’s pregnancy. He needed to do so before she left, to give her time to process it, before they talked to Henry so she’d be prepared. 

Emma returned about fifteen minutes later in jeans, a pink plaid shirt, and her boots. “Okay, I’m off.” She grabbed her purse and keys from the front table. 

Killian hurried over to her. “Emma, wait, there’s something you need to know.”

She paused, a curious look in her eyes. “Is this the thing that you wanted to tell me last night?”

“Aye.” Killian grimaced. “I didn’t finish dropping bombs yesterday.” 

“Well, it can’t be bigger than your brother being back and Marco’s passing.” Emma sighed. She took a breath and braced herself. “Okay, lay it on me.”

“Snow’s pregnant.” There. Bandaid, ripped off. “About seven months along.”

Her stomach dropped to the floor. Swallowing, Emma whispered. “My parents are having a baby?” Suddenly Emma found herself back in the Echo Caves, her mother’s words ringing in her ears. I resent Emma. I need a fresh start. I want another child that I can raise. Emma shook herself. “I should go get Henry.”

Emma ran before he could stop her. 

Her feet hurriedly carried her to her car. She slammed the door once she was inside, her breathing ragged and panicked. 

Her parents were having another kid. Pressing her hands to her eyes, Emma tried to calm herself. Don’t be selfish. You knew this was going to happen. 

In the hospital after Liam was born, Snow made amends with her. They buried the hatchet on the issue. Or, well, Emma thought she buried it. Hell, she told Snow that she had every right to try for another kid. 

“Come on, Emma.” She whispered to herself. “You’re not an orphan anymore. They won’t replace you just because of the new baby.” But the Swans did that. She didn’t often think about her first set of parents, first set she remembered anyway, despite carrying their surname with her. Killian once asked her why she never changed it after learning what the Swans did to her and Emma said it was because she wanted to prove her worth in spite of them. She kept the name and made it her own. 

Even so, in this moment, she felt like she was three years old again, watching their green, wood paneled Ford Pinto driving away, leaving her and a small suitcase with a stranger, her case worker she later learned. 

“Emma, sweetie, we’re going on a trip.” Mommy smiled at her when she picked her up in her arms. Daycare was over and Emma wanted to share her picture. 

“Look, Mommy.” Emma waved a drawing of a house with two adults, a little girl, and a kitty cat. “I drew you and Daddy and Nugget.”

Mommy’s stopped smiling as she took the picture away. “That’s nice, Emma. Come on, Daddy is waiting in the car.”

“I don’t want to feel like this.” She berated herself through tears she couldn’t stop, hitting the steering wheel angrily. “Mom and Dad aren’t the Swans.” They aren’t, they aren’t, they aren’t. “They aren’t replacing me.” She sniffled. “I’m good enough.” Not good enough. They don’t love you. They want their baby, not someone who’s broken. 

Emma leaned back, taking a deep breath. “Stop it. Stop it. You are not an orphan.” She reaffirmed. “Mom and Dad love you. This baby is not a replacement.” Her words felt hollow and her chest constricted. 

Her cell phone rang. It was Henry. Clearing her throat, Emma answered. “Hey, kid, I’m on my way.” Though she’d definitely need to make a stop somewhere to wash her face so Henry wouldn’t see that she was upset. “I’m fine, yeah, everything’s okay. No, I promise. I’m driving, so let me let you go. I’ll see you soon.” She wasn’t lying to lie, but Henry didn’t need to be burdened with her baggage, especially over the phone. No, she’d talk to Killian about how she was feeling later. 

She just needed some time to deal with the news first. 

Starting her car, Emma first drove to Starbucks for their bathroom, buying herself a bottle of water, planning to get coffee at the donut shop after seeing Henry. She gulped her water down on the way to Avery’s, hoping it would ease her throat and she’d sound happier when she picked him up. 

Henry came running out as soon as she parked in front of the apartment building, obviously waiting for her with Avery’s mom. Emma waved and smiled at Hannah as Henry jumped into the car. 

“Okay, what’s wrong?” Henry asked, concern all over his face. 

“Nothing’s wrong.” Emma said. “Something did happen yesterday, but a good something. I promise.”

“What happened?” Henry asked, now confused. He knew his mother was upset earlier when he called. She sounded like she’d been crying.

“Donuts and hot chocolate first.” Emma said. “I think it’s time for us to try Bean There, Donut That.” 

Henry tilted his head. “Is this a special occasion?” 

Emma chuckled. “You could say that.” 

They arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes later. Henry excitedly chose one of eight wild flavors, excited to try different things, and Emma was glad to limit it to a box of six, because the donuts were huge and more than enough for the three of them. Plus, she really wasn’t sure how Henry would feel about some of the flavors. She added a hot chocolate with cinnamon for Henry, a white chocolate mocha for herself, and a caramel latte for Killian. 

Henry eyed the third drink suspiciously. 

They grabbed their purchases and headed back to the car.

“So who’s the third drink for?” Henry wasted no time in interrogating her. 

He definitely inherited my tact. Emma sighed. “Okay, so um, you know those strange dreams we’ve been having?” She pulled out of the parking spot into the busy road. 

“Yeah.” Henry said. “Are we going to Maine to find answers?” 

“We are.” Emma said. “There’s more though. So, um,” She breathed deep. This was the hard part. “Henry, you asked if it was magic that did this to us. Well, turns out it was. We lost our memories because of a curse.”

“I knew it!” Henry exclaimed triumphantly. “There was a curse in my dreams, and magic. You had magic!”

“I have magic.” Emma corrected. “Henry, when we get home, I’ll go into more details, but there is someone waiting for us. He’s my fiancé, your step-dad, though you call him Dad and everyone we know treats you as his son and vice versa.”

“I have a dad?” Henry asked. “Wait, I have a brother too, don’t I? The baby you lost? He was alive in my dreams.” 

“Yes, Henry.” Emma smiled, happy tears building in her eyes. “Liam is waiting for us in Maine.”

“Why didn’t he come with Dad?” Henry asked. “What’s Dad like? Is he cool?”

“He was safer with your uncle.” Emma said, though now knowing it was Blackbeard and not August, she wasn’t too sure about that. She knew Killian trusted Blackbeard and would trust Killian’s judgement, but she’d still get to know the man herself when they returned home. “You think your dad is the coolest person. He taught you how to sail his pirate ship and his sail boat. He taught you how to fish and use a sword. You love him so much.” 

“Dad’s a pirate!” Henry shouted with enthusiasm. “Are you serious? That’s so freaking cool!”

“Your dad’s going to be relieved you think so.” Emma laughed. 

They finally made it to their apartment building and Henry practically sprinted out of the car with the box of donuts. Emma hoped he didn’t drop the box. They carried their breakfast to the elevator and rode up in what must’ve been the longest ride of Henry’s life since the kid couldn’t stop jumping up and down with excitement. 

The elevator doors barely opened wide enough before Henry slipped through, darting down the hallway. Emma hurried after him. 

Henry paused before the door to their apartment, suddenly anxious. “Does he like me?” 

“Henry, Killian loves you so, so much.” Emma said. “He practically raised you in Storybrooke. You are his son, okay?”

Henry swallowed, but nodded and put on a brave face. 

Emma opened the door and they entered to find Killian nervously pacing the kitchen. 

Killian stopped suddenly, taking in the sight of Henry, now all of twelve, and about three inches taller since Killian last saw him.

Nervously, Henry approached, setting the box of donuts on the counter, never taking his eyes off of Killian. “Hi, I’m Henry.”

“I know.” Killian said softly, his eyes shining. “I’m…”

“My dad.” Henry said. “I know. I mean, not my biological dad, but a better dad.” He stumbled over his words not sure how to act around this stranger, though he knew the man from his dreams and his heart felt nothing but affection and love for the man in front of him. 

“You seem to think so.” Killian chuckled, his voice thick with emotion.

An overwhelming urge to hug Killian overcame him, so Henry went with it, throwing his arms around the man’s middle. 

Killian returned the hug instinctively, cupping the back of Henry’s head. “I missed you so much, Henry.” 

“I think I missed you too.” Henry mumbled. The two stayed like that for a moment before Henry pulled away. “We brought donuts.” He said shyly. “I didn’t know we were getting them for three, so I don’t know if you’ll like them.”

“That’s okay.” Killian reassured. He turned to Emma. “Does he know everything?”

“Not yet.” Emma told him. She handed Killian his coffee. “Let’s sit down, eat and talk.” 

They gathered around the table with the donuts and their drinks. Emma took a breath and started from the beginning with her twenty-eighth birthday, a wish, and a knock on her door. 

It took a few hours to explain their history, especially as Henry had questions, but eventually they reached Pan’s curse and Killian briefly touched on some of the happenings in the Enchanted Forest. 

Henry took it all in, pushing away the last bites of his creme brûlée donut. “So, the Wicked Witch is real too, and you have to stop her?”

“Seems that way, kid.” Emma said. “But the good thing is that we get to go home. We’ll get your memories back, you’ll see your brother, grandparents, and aunts and uncles again. You’ll have your friends back too.” 

That brought a small smile to Henry’s face, though it was clear he was still processing everything. It was a lot for anyone to digest let alone a twelve year old. “Are we leaving then?”

“Go pack a bag.” Emma said. “As much as you can anyway. We’ll have to leave the big stuff for later.” 

Henry nodded and left his parents alone, lost in his own thoughts. 

Emma watched him with worry. “Do you think he’s all right?” 

“He’s always taken things in stride.” Killian said. “Even so, he’s learned that what he thought was his life was a lie, that magic is real, and that his mother’s about to head into very real danger.”

“Aren’t we all?” Emma sighed. “I hope I can live up to everyone's idea of me.”

Killian grasped her hand in his. “You already have, love.” 

“Cheerleader.” She teased. 

“Always.” Killian said. “Are you okay?” They’d yet to discuss her future sibling. 

Knowing what he meant, Emma nodded. “I will be. I still have old wounds to work through.”

“I’m always a willing ear.” He reminded her, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Lean on me when you need, yeah?”

“I will.” Emma said. “Now, I need to go pack. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get to be home.” 

As she headed to her room, Emma squared her shoulders. 

It was time to don her armor and take up her mantle. 

The Savior was going home. 

[randomraytrash]

Okay, but listen me out

Au where ex-Mayor Jones is out on parole (bc he is a politician of course, he can and will escape from consequences) doing community service. Enough morally grey to be still torn between the treasure and is damn "son".

Than Judy and Brad come back and Fred Jones sr in all his morally corrupted glory realized that he royally fucked up, because the two thieves are even worse than him and he tries to help the kids (like really bad, like giving them of how break the law advice).

Also, sorry, but after a while I think he ends up crashing on the Sheriff's couch because Judy and Brad take his (Fred jr's house now) house. Do what you do with this information, but I bet Janet Nettles hates his ass (she's right and she should say that louder) because she is one of the rare politicians with good morals, also she knows Jones is pathetically not straight and the sheriff is absolutely oblivious. She doesn't know Jones has no intention to make a move on the sheriff because he likes them dumb, but that man is really too much dumb. Also fucking Sheriff is straight as a pole and too oblivious to be alive.

I know the sheriff lives with his mother, but I think she needs a break from his son, she deserve to be free from this absolutely moron of a man. She saw Janet Nettles and said: "Now, he's your problem". She persuaded him to take an apartment in town, so he could start his lovely love nest with the woman and then fucking ex-mayor crashed in .

[lesbian-duck-art]

Sorry if this is annoying!

Do you have any specific headcanons about sdmi?

Oh my god you’re not annoying at all!!😭 I love talking to you you’re so good! I have a few here and there so let me put them down here. so sorry a lot of this is E or Angel related!

- E has so many issues in regards to relationships whether it be romantic or otherwise. Pericles’ betrayal and being forced to leave everything and one he’d ever known at 17 did a lot of damage and I don’t think he’s ever fully recovered. It’s the reason he pushes people, including Cassidy, away. Because of his childhood best friend who he cared immensely for could betray him, why couldn’t everyone else? He’s definitely got PTSD and I feel like if he didn’t already, now has a severe anxiety disorder

- We don’t see a whole lot of Ed Machine in the series nor do we know a lot about him but I think he was closer to E and Angel than people tend to assume. Whether that means they were friends or polycule, I take either one lol

- I think Nibiru’s curse has a waaaay harder time affecting people who have someone they love. Whether that be familial, romantic, or even friendship. There is no love within the original Mystery Incorporated and they fall to shreds. MI II on the other hand comes back together through their love for one another. Marcie is able to break free of the curse because of Velma, Mayor Jones temporarily breaks free because despite the lie he does love and care about Fred, E loses both Ed and Angel one after the other and he becomes worse until he realizes Angel is gone.

- That in mind: I do think Jones cared about Fred. I think sans curse, he would’ve been a better dad and I see parts of Post-Nibiru Timeline/Sitting Room Jones peak through in both seasons. There’s a one shot fic on AO3 about him in the episode with that art monster? Highly recommend it and it’s exactly how I view him as a character

- While on the topic of Fred Jones Sr., I feel like his time in jail and away from the Planispheric disk weakened the curse’s hold. Not by a lot certainly, but by a tiny bit. I think the closer you get to the pieces the more corrupt you become

- I truly think that if things were different and E had let his walls down and interacted with the kids the way Angel did, I think the mystery inc gang would’ve gotten along with him the same way they do Angel! (This is part of why I enjoy Purposefully Silent so much lol it gives me exactly what I wish the show had) I still think everything would have gone to shit one way or another but

- We been knew that Fred is autistic but I also raise that like. All of Mystery Inc is somewhere between autistic, ADHD, and AuDHD(I say this as someone who is autistic and possibly AuDHD). With this I also think Ricky is neurodivergent

- Angel is pan, E is Bi, Daphne and Fred are also bi, I think Shaggy is pan and maybe even aro, Marcie and Velma are both lesbians. I also honestly think there’s n o t h i n g about E that screams “cisgender” but I can never decide if my answer is trans man or “he/him/they/them” non-binary

- Jones and Sheriff Stone *abso-fucking-lutely* had something going on there was nothing heterosexual present. Jones is giving gay man who’s over compensating via toxic masculinity and Sheriff Stone just seems to be into Crystal Cove Mayors

- Birds were Ricky’s hyperfixation after he met Professor Pericles. He knew all the different facts and terminology and everything. He still remembers most of it(mostly unwillingly), but it’s never relevant anymore

- I’ve said it once I’ll say it again I just think E gives off dad vibes in a way I can’t explain and this is why the Velma is Ricky and Cassidy’s daughter AU is one of my favorites and one I wanna do a fic for

I don’t want to make this too long so I’ll stop here but you’re not annoying and I’m actually so glad you asked!😭 I am always down to talk about this show and you already know I enjoy talking to you lol I feel I’m very bad at expressing my head canons so I hope this is okay!

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

Eddie: how dare you turn MY familiar!!! This is an indignity that simply cannot stand!!!

Nancy: sucks to suck loser boi, if u liked it than you should have stuck ur fangs in it

(Sidenote something that has been haunting me since my binge was that nandor wanted to take Guillermo to his homeland and turn him there, wanted to share the soil that allows him to rest with Guillermo. I feel so normal about this actually *lying through my teeth*)

Also Mr Clarke as the guide is so fucking funny, what about mayor kline as the baron? Or alternatively Henry but he's less menacing and insane

yes omg i think it would be sooooo funny if eddie is massively offended but nancy and robin CLEARLY don’t give af, but every single other vampire they encounter is like “oh… ur familiar got turned? :/ by someone else? :/ clearly impotent :/“ & constantly just give him so much shit abt it WHILE ALSO HITTING ON STEVE and all eddie can do is sit there and absolutely seethe lol

omg i have to rewatch that episode… is that season 3?

ooohhhh i kinda like henry as the baron! they all fuck him so i feel like any of the “adults” would be super weird lol and imagine henry w his little blond curls as that silly goofy guy (thank god they let doug jones be doug jones and not a crispy half creature these past two seasons lol)—i think this is the role jamie campbell bower was BORN TO PLAY!!!!!

ok it’s official: mr. clarke as the guide and henry as the baron

[transwolvie]

The new Knowledge Fight has Alex Jones's dumb ass discussing the FSK bridge collapse, saying that the mayor said not to spread the clip (for reasons related to trauma!!) and then being like "ofc we have it haha" what an asshole

But it's got me thinking again abt how ppl were characterizing the ship as having "bonked" the bridge and were questioning the collapse and its like

Goddamn... y'all know fucking NOTHING about how big and heavy cargo ships are huh....

Also I feel REALLY bad for the cargo ship captain because he really did everything he could to try and prevent this terrible tragedy..... they sent out a proper mayday to stop traffic, they dropped anchor, they tried to change the rudder direction, ANYTHING to try to slow down or stop the ship....but even with their backup generator kicking into gear, the steering didn't come back on. It sounds truly and genuinely horrifying to have to deal with as a captain and he did literally everything he could have and still basically had to stand there as this monstrous ship that was meant to be under HIS control took out a whole bridge. Fuck, man.

[wehaveagathering]

[delicately setting down my cup of coffee] i need to talk about the philadelphia flyers

idk, maybe they left someone's lucky rabbit's foot in vancouver. maybe someone's girlfriend kissed another guy on new year's. maybe scratching frost and atkinson was just really, really bad for morale. maybe gary bettman came down from his tower of gold and ivory and hockey hork and told the flyers that they really need to suck now because they were fucking up his carefully-crafted storylines. maybe that heaven-sent streak of Being Good Maybe? in 2023 really couldn't last forever. but that game was ugly, annoying, boring, and crunchy to boot. we whiffed on so. many. fucking. pucks. we had a 5-on-3 for TWO MINUTES - and then a 5-on-2 when a stick broke - and that fucking upstart blue jacket Roslovic decided that he had the TIME TO GO TO THE BENCH and GET A NEW STICK because our pp is so bad. AND HE WAS RIGHT. how fucking humiliating is that!! if our power play is at the bottom of the league right now – well I don't understand why it wouldn't be, and it fucking deserves it. that was unbelievable.

jasmine jones, you speak for the entire city of philadelphia and all of our sports. rerun the elections, she's the new mayor now

[change to regular capitalization incoming]

LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT 5-ON-2, because that shit will live in my soul and piss me off for a million years. First, a breakdown of my gif of the game.

2:15 left in the first period. Flyers up by one with credit to Travis Konecny. The Blue Jackets take TWO penalties in the course of zero seconds of game time: one on #24, Mathieu Olivier, for interference, and one on #17, Justin Danforth for a face-off violation (tried to glove the puck). This gave the Flyers an entire 2:00 of a two man advantage.

:50 left in the first; :36 left on the PP. #96 on the CBJ, Roslovic's stick breaks and he drops it. Two and a half men.

:41.5. Tarasov blocks a one-timer from Tippett and the puck spins to the boards. Roslovic sees the loose puck and makes a break for the CBJ bench for a new stick. Two men.

:39.5. Tippett to Farabee back to Tippett. Decent set up for a powerful one-timer. Don't give the goalie or the D-men time to read you and you snipe it.

:38-:37. Tippett handles, shoots, Tarasov glove save, play stops. So much for the 5-on-2.

I think these thirteen seconds EXEMPLIFY what went wrong in our game, namely: WHY DO WE HOLD ON TO THE PUCK FOR SO FUCKING LONG? Every time we had a power play, someone would pass, and then the receiver holds onto the puck and looks around. And then they would pass, and then the next guy would hold on and look around. These split seconds where they hold on to the puck A.) waste valuable time in a power play and B.) give the opposition's defense and the goaltender time to position themselves in our new shooting lanes.

Watch this done well by Matthews and Marner on January 3rd.

Rielly -> Marner, who holds and waits for the goalie and Ducks to shift to defending against him, leaving Matthews wide open with a scoring lane that neither the goalie or the D are looking at. After 12 SOG from Matthews all game, (and 55 total saves on the Leafs) he knows Dostal has his number, so the Leafs are looking to get one in while he's off-guard. If Matthews waits here with the puck, Dostal has time to get ready for a snipe. But if the second the puck gets on his stick and he just fires the one-timer, he might be able to catch Dostal while he's still trying to adjust – and he does.

But the Flyers wait, nearly every time. When Tippett holds on to that puck for those extra milliseconds, he gives Tarasov and his two whole entire Blue Jackets time to adjust. The fact also remains that the Flyers stay very, very still during the power play. Maybe this is because their passes aren't connecting (they aren't) or it's because they don't know where each other are on the ice (the ice awareness last night was, in fact abysmal) but it doesn't help with keeping the opposing team's penalty kill.

But wait, you say, didn't Tippett shoot a one-timer earlier? Why shouldn't he reasonably hold on to the puck here, if he thinks he had a better scoring chance? Yes, he did, but here Tarasov was ready for him with the glove save, which ended play and allowed CBJ to readjust after Roslovic got his new stick. Even if Tarasov blocked a one timer with a rebound, that still keeps the play alive and gives us a chance to score on the rebound. THERE WERE TWO OF THEM. That's a huge, HUGE missed scoring opportunity. Keep them on their heels, reacting instead of proacting, and then maybe you get a third goal in, which allowed us yet another leg up. We blew a fucking two-goal lead. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING indeed.

Lastly, I want to talk about the shootout tonight. Tortorella loves picking the same couple of guys for shootouts, doesn't he? WHY? Coots, Tyfo and Brink all have previous luck re:shootouts but that just means that goalies have their fucking numbers now, doesn't it? Against Detroit 12.22 he sent out Couturier and Brink; against Washington 12.14 Couturier, Foerster, Brink; against Pittsburgh 12.2 Foerster, Couturier, TK. There's a pattern here. And those three can't rely on the same move every time (kuznetsov is an outlier adn should not be counted) because when they do, the goalie is expecting it.

Whatever. Experience flyers hockey. Pray they win against Calgary.

[abigtimeboxofficedraw]

Ok, hear me out, Hatchetfield DirectDoggo AU, do you agree?

TGWDLM

Paul: Jack

Emma: Harry

Bill: Peter

Ted: Steven

Charlotte: Rebecca/Scottie

Henry Hidgens: Dave

Sam/McNamara/Jeff's infected characters: Henry

Alice: Blackjack

Harmony Jones: Health Inspector

Hatchetfield Bee: Dee (hehe hatchetfield dee)

Pokotho: Pokotho (I don't feel like changing the lords)

Black Friday

Tom: Peter (I'm double casting fuck you)

Becky: Caroline

Lex: Jake

Ethan: Roger

Hannah: Dee

Wiggly: Wiggly

Linda: Rebecca

Uncle Wiley/Wilbur Cross: Steven

Nerdy Prudes Must Die

Pete: Oliver (I'm also doing Dialtown fuck you)

Steph: Karen Dunn (no romance though grr she is aroace and I will die on this hill)

Grace: Phonegingi (it would be funny)

Ruth: Randy

Richie: Richie (I'm keeping Richie cuz I love him and it would be funny (ALSO HE IS NOT DIALED-UP HE IS THE ONLY ONE WITHOUT A PHONE HEAD))

Max: Little Billy (they're both terrifying)

The LiB: The LiB but they're all dialed-up

The Hatchetfield Police Force (Bailey, Shapiro etc): Norm

Solomon: Mingus (they're both the mayor's of their towns it's obvious)

Paul and Emma: Jack and Harry dialed-up

this was copy and pasted straight from the notes app which was typed from the enigma known as my autistic brain at 2am with a mild migraine and wearing a Scott the woz T-shirt

Edit: I'm not gonna do nightmare time or workin boys I'm way too tired and migrainey for this